done revamping! okay! see you all in another 3 years
...i’m joking but this really is the quietest ship in a dead fandom
feel free to submit any and all hasure content. i might post some of my own hasure stuff here
i let this blog die for five months and i have no idea what the aldnoah.zero fandom looks like on tumblr anymore. if you’re still around, hasure fans, feel free to make any kind of submissions! links, headcanons, whatever!
Omg haha right off the bat the first one is the precious AZ OTP
Send me a ship and I’ll tell you…
who’s the cuddler: Slaine. Mostly because Harklight doesn’t know what he can and can’t get away with and he distances himself a little until Slaine tells him to just stop being so cautious and come closer.
who makes the bed: Harklight, of course. Like the good little housewife he is.
who wakes up first: Also Harklight; he likes to oversee the making of Slaine’s breakfast. Sometimes he makes it himself c:
who has the weird taste in music: I dunno, probably Harklight?? Do they have music on Vers? I can’t imagine they wouldn’t, although it would probably be a very different kind of music.
who is more protective: Hahahahhahahahhhhh Harklight for sure.
who sings in the shower: Omg Slaine. I think there’d only be a couple of places he’d feel like he could really relax and I mean, who can’t relax in the shower? Harklight would keep guard and probably could hear him doing it it hehe
who cries during movies: Slaine. Then Harklight frets over him and asks if they should turn it off.
who spends the most while out shopping: Neither really would but probably Slaine; Harklight has grown up in poverty and knows the value of every dollar saved.
who kisses more roughly: Slaine. Like with cuddling, Harklight is hesitant to initiate but Slaine isn’t shy about showing him what he wants.
who is more dominate: I think in different situations, either of them. Like Slaine might initiate things more, and he definitely commands Harklight outside of, you know, the bedroom, but I think if it got down to it Harklight would be pretty wild and completely intent on showing Slaine how much he worships every part of him.
my rating of the ship from 1-10: Gimme a strong 10 I have such a weakness for master/manservant ships and I fell in love with Harklight before season 2 had even officially begun.
Hi just some random fangirl who loves your writting (●´□`)♡ If you please HarklightxSlaine and no. "Please don’t do this" Thank you so much!!
The last one from the prompt meme that I promised!
‘Harklight!’
Slaine’svoice is sharp and sudden through the communicator, his face flashingup on a panel right in front of Harklight’s. The Versian joltsguiltily and switches off the visual because he’s afraid that if hehas to look into the young man’s eyes right at that moment, hisresolve will waver.
‘Harklightstand down.That is an order!’The communicator crackles with static and Harklight knows it’s fromthe debris and explosions from the nearby battles causinginterference, but in that moment it really does sound like there is acrack of emotion in Slaine’s voice. He grits his teeth and activatesthe Herschel’s independent laser cannons, locking them onto incomingtargets to clear the way.
Hedoesn’t have a lot of time.
Heknows he should just shut out Slaine’s shouting altogether, switchoff the comm and focus on the mission he has set for himself but hecan’t bring himself to do it. He knows he’s disobeying orders. Heknows how this mission will end. He knows that the warship Deucalionis nearly upon them carrying weapons more than capable of wiping outthe moonbase and everyone on it. He had studied the ship’s specs inhis own time and had speculated what their plan might be, but he hadnever anticipated an attack would come so soon.
Theyaren’t ready.
Theyare in danger. Slaineis in danger.
Harklightwants nothing more than to see Slaine’s hopes and dreams carried tofruition, but if he were to leave the young Count’s side prematurelyhe could only hope that it would be in the line of duty, like this.The Deucalion is a fearsome armoured beast of a warship, withdefenses so powerful that not even the impact of a Landing Castlecould best it.
Butthe payload Harklight is carrying is more powerful than such a blastand he has discovered the ship’s weaknesses from the schematics. Theonly flaw in his plan—and definitely the most glaring one—is thatthere is absolutely no way that he will have the time to escape theblast radius of the explosive itself and of the ship shattering topieces.
‘Harklight,please…’ there isn’t a doubt about it this time, the tremor inSlaine’s voice is not static, not interference. ‘We can fend themoff, please don’t do this.’
Harklightdoesn’t have the luxury of time to answer him right away; enemy unitsdart out from behind floating debris and open fire on him and hisanger swells in his chest at the audacityof their approach. Herschel’s weaponry eviscerates them withoutmercy, and only then does he direct his focus to his young Lord.
‘Mylord, you’ve taught me a lot in the time I’ve known you.’ he saysgently. ‘I learned more from you than from any of my teachers at theacademy. I learned how to hold my head high, both in the face ofscorn and in battle…’
‘Stopit.’ Slaine snaps back at him, interrupting. ‘Don’t talk like that,and come back immediately.’
ButHarklight continues while he ignores the tears he can hear inSlaine’s voice. ‘I wanted to learn more, and carry on at your sideuntil the end. Please know that. But this must be done if that end isto be achieved.’ his heart aches with words he can’t bring himself tospeak, if words would even be enough to convey what he’s feeling. ‘Idon’t regret this or anything I’ve done with you and for you. Please,achieve your dreams. Make your princess happy. And thank you.’ hesucks in a short, sharp breath as he sees the hull of the Deucalionglide out above one of the hulking debris clusters. Ionly hope this works.
Heshuts of the comm just as Slaine is shouting his name againand—fuelled by the determination to help the only person he caresabout live through this war—he turns to face his fate.
Harklight/Slaine #22: "I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice."
Prompt meme
'I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.'
Harklightswears that for a few torturous seconds his heart stops beating, butno, that can’t be possible because simultaneously he feels all theblood rush into his face so quickly it leaves him light-headed. Hisresponse time is too long and he knows it but there’s nothing he cando about the way his words trip over themselves in their attempt toall be out at the same time.
‘Sir?’is all he manages after a heavy silence and he knows it’s not enoughbut it’s also too much because even he can hear the tremor in thatone neutral word.
Slaineis sitting at his desk and had been for some time, writing a roughoutline to a speech he intended to give the Orbital Knights.Harklight had stood by attentively with his hands clasped behind hisback and he had quietly admired how long Slaine’s hair was getting,the way the Terran occasionally had to brush it aside and tuck itbehind his ear, the way Slaine’s fingers which had been so rough withoverwork in the beginning now had neatly trimmed nails and softerskin. The uniform of a Versian Count seems to strengthen hisshoulders, stiffen his back, bring him a regal air that Harklight hadalways known had been beneath that quiet, calculated exterior.
Andthen Slaine had put down the pen mid-sentence and looked him dead inthe eye—had caught him staring—anduttered that dreaded accusation.
Hedoesn’t seem angry, Harklight is pleased to note although he’salready broken out into a sweat beneath the collar of his newlyappointed slate-grey uniform. He seems mostly curious although it’shard to tell these days; Slaine Troyard has long ago learned to reinin his emotions and make them mostly unreadable.
‘Doyou think that because you stand behind me that I don’t feel yourgaze burning a hole in the back of my neck?’
Harklighthonestly thinks that the back of Slaine’s neck—as nice as it is—isthe leastof his worries. ‘Sir, I’m not sure I—’ he takes a startled step backas the younger Terran stands up from his seat.
‘Doyou think that the rest of the staff hasn’t noticed?’ Slainecontinues in that cool tone. ‘As if it isn’t enough that you followat my heels without me having to do so much as click my fingers,really, Harklight, the staring? It has to be less obvious. I was justwriting at my desk for nearly half an hour and I know for a fact yourattention didn’t wander even for a second. Tell me I’m wrong.’
Harklightwonders if his face is as red as it feels. He’s utterly mortified.‘Sir I don’t… I didn’t mean any offence, I…’
Slainelaughs suddenly, interrupting him. ‘Offence?’ When he next speaks,his voice is gentle, softer. ‘You deserve better than me, Harklight.’he reaches up, and when he touches the Martian’s cheek it’s only thebriefest, lightest caress of his fingers. ‘I know I said this wouldbe our time to shine, but I’ve hardly thought of your feelings oncesince this madness began.’
‘Thisisn’t about me, my lord.’ Harklight replies quietly as he wills hisheart to slow down its frantic pace. ‘I am here to help you achieveyour end by any means.’
‘Myend?’ Slaine steps close, a smile playing at the corners of hismouth. ‘Are you sure you aren’t trying to achieve me?’
Hislips are warm and soft when he grasps Harklight’s collar and pullshim in for the kiss and at first the Martian is too startled torespond in any way. By the time Harklight’s mind wraps itself aroundthe concept of Slainekissing himthe young man has already pulled back. Harklight’s lips tingle whereSlaine’s had been and he stares wide-eyed down at the other.
‘There.’Slaine says simply. ‘Now instead of staring at me fantasising aboutwhat it would be like, you have an answer. Go out and cool off, Ineed you to head to the bridge and arrange a group meeting with theother Knights.’
‘Y-Yes,sir. Right away.’ Harklight claps his fist to his heart in a stiffsalute and hurries to the door, though he thinks perhaps Slaine mayhave only made his problem worse.
Description: Here's a new update on the HaSure fic I've been writing. I've also uploaded it to AO3 so you can follow it if you like. I only have time to write it when I'm on the subway so it'll probably be pretty slow going. I have the whole thing planned out, it's just finding the time to write. UGH.
"Welcome back, Slaine-sama. Well done, as usual."
The newly minted Count Saazbaum Troyard smiled at the figure kneeling before him.
"Harklight, I've told you that you don't need to meet me in the docking bay every single time I go out, you know. And for goodness sake, I've told you even more times that you don't need to kneel before me when there aren't visitors."
"My apologies, Slaine-sama, but I only wish to honor you in the way you deserve."
Slaine smiled inwardly. This man was older than him, and a native Versian. Yet here he was, bowing to a Terran, a member of the "inferior race."
Slaine wondered why he didn't feel more smug about this. After all, there was a dark part of him that had brightened with vindictive glee when the other Orbital Knights had, grudgingly, saluted him after his most recent military victory. But there was something about Harklight's earnestness, his almost simpleton stubbornness to pay Slaine obeisance at every turn, which was endearing, and, if Slaine was to be completely honest with himself, somewhat annoying.
Well, he himself knew that pride cost nothing. It hadn't been so long ago that Slaine was bowing before Count Cruhteo and then Count Saazbaum, both of whom commanded his obedience but to neither did he truly give his loyalty.
But was it the same with Harklight?
Slaine had to admit that he had trouble reading his older manservant. His expression seemed ever-frozen on his face, only betrayed by the slightest movements of his eyes or twitching of his lips.
Why was he spending so much time thinking about a servant? Wasn't he a Count now? He'd debased himself to reach these heights. He had lied. He had killed.
But he couldn't help but remember his time as a servant. How much he had longed that Count Cruhteo could have turned those green eyes in his direction. If only someone had tried to see into his own soul. Perhaps he wouldn't have become so dependent on a princess who could not give her heart to him.
So, perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing that his thoughts kept drifting back to Harklight.
Harklight must have noticed something in Slaine's expression as they had walked in silence through the halls of the base, because he asked in his usual gentle voice, "is there something troubling Slaine-sama?"
"Eh? Ah. No. No, it's nothing." But Slaine's hesitancy only encouraged Harklight to continue.
"I-" the dark-haired man began. "I may not be able to understand everything Slaine-sama could be thinking, but whatever you may be on your mind, I'll listen to it. Ah!"
Harklight started. He hadn't considered that Slaine had been thinking about confidential military secrets that he couldn't possibly divulge to his servant. Harklight stammered, "I mean. I- I beg your pardon. If it's something you cannot discuss with me, I merely hoped to be of some use..." He trailed off, a blush rising in his cheeks.
Slaine stopped and turned to see Harklight bring the back of a gloved hand up to his mouth, a bright blush coloring his face.
He couldn't help himself. He laughed.
"Slaine-sama!" Harklight gasped, even more embarrassed.
"No. I'm the one who's sorry, Harklight. I'm just not used to anyone caring about my feelings."
For a moment, Slaine saw a darkness cloud Harklight's usually clear eyes. But it disappeared so quickly, Slaine thought he might have imagined it.
The young Count turned and began walking again. "I was thinking about the past," he began.
"About...the princess?"
What was that moment of hesitation about? Slaine wondered.
"Not...not exactly." Slaine began. "I was wondering if I ever served Count Cruhteo as attentively as you..."
Slaine heard a slight intake of breath. Or at least, he thought he had. When he turned to face his dark-haired servant, however, Harklight's face was as placid as always.
Maybe he imagined it.
Harklight smiled softly and bowed his head, resting his right hand upon his heart. "I am touched that Slaine-sama would see me as someone worthy enough to compare to himself."
Now if that wasn't a canned line, then Slaine would have to check if he wasn't a long-lost Versian Prince. He narrowed his eyes in Harklight's direction.
There was the tiniest movement of Harklight's downcast eyes.
Lying? Slaine wondered. No, that wasn't quite right, but the older man wasn't telling the full truth either.
He's hiding something from me, Slaine concluded. What could it be?
An alert over the base's intercom interrupted Slaine's thoughts, and he set them aside to consider later.
"Ah. It seems that the Council is requesting a video-conference with Slaine-sama."
Slaine sighed inwardly. Well, there was no avoiding that flock of old geezers, even if the universe would be better off if he drop-kicked the lot of them out the nearest airlock.
"Let's begin, Harklight."
The clicking of their heels against the polished floor echoed as Slaine and his enigmatic servant marched towards the base's audience chamber.
"I can't believe those conniving, boot-licking assholes."
Slaine raged as the entered his private quarters, violently yanking off his maroon uniform coat and tossing it carelessly over the nearest chair.
"Indeed, Slaine-sama." Harklight agreed solemnly.
The servant walked over to the chair and lifted his master's coat, carefully smoothing potential wrinkles between gloved fingers.
He looked up at Slaine, his eyes even, awaiting his master's call, but Slaine had already moved on to examine a document on his tablet.
Perhaps his master was able to quell his frustration at the rudeness of the other Counts with that minute outburst, but Harklight's heart harbored a violent storm.
Even after Slaine had landed a decisive blow to the Terran army's supply chain, the Council of Orbital Knights continued to voice doubts about the newly elevated ex-Terran's leadership abilities.
Harklight cursed his own powerless, remembering the fire rising from within his gut when one of the Counts had begun to insult his master.
Slaine had schooled his expression into a mask of extreme boredom as the curly-haired Knight had insulted Slaine's authority, trustworthiness, intelligence, and even, bizarrely enough, his hygiene.
But what had truly set Harklight's wrath alight was when the cretin began to imply that his master had a sexual relationship with his adopted father, Count Saazbaum, and Count Creuhto before him.
He had felt something snap inside of him as if someone had poured gasoline on one of those ancient Terran stoves. He felt the heat rising from his throat to his temples and he new that powerless or not, he could no longer stand by in silence.
Harklight had just begun to take a step forward when he noticed Slaine's eyes on him, warning him. The young Count Troyard, perhaps sensing Harklight's growing anger, had shifted his weight and looked sideways, bringing his hand up as if to examine his fingernails. He was a portrait of boredom, acting as if Count Marylcian was listing the different types of rock that could be found on Mars' surface rather than slandering his name. The shift in position, however, allowed Slaine to see his servant out of the corner of his eye and silently signal to Harklight that he should forget whatever retaliation he might be planning.
Harklight had felt incredibly embarrassed at that moment, but his embarrassment had also been combined with a feeling of deep admiration. Not only had Slaine-sama prevented Harklight from possibly making a bad situation worse, he had done so without even a gesture.
Truly, Slaine-sama was a man of true worth.
His master shifted again back towards the video-conference screen, now satisfied that his servant would stay put. Harklight allowed his eyes to turn towards the young Count.
His heavy-lidded blue eyes sparkled with intelligence even now as he feigned boredom for the benefit of Count Curly who would, surely–hopefully–run out of oxygen and end his odious rant.
Harklight felt, not for the first time, as if Slaine's eyes were like the Terran sky, vast, beautiful, and distant. If only he could have thought of them as limpid pools of water. Then he could have some hope of submerging himself in that blue. But Slaine-sama's eyes were surely like the sky, far out of his reach.
Clearly the other Orbital Knights were getting tired of Count Marylcian’s rant, if not because of its content, but because it was going on for so damn long. Two of the other Counts had interjected simultaneously.
"If we could please..."/ "I think it's time we should..."
There was a moment's hesitation as the Counts attempted to decide who should speak first, and true to his excellence, Slaine had swooped in at the opportunity to take charge of the meeting.
"If I could turn your Excellencies' attentions to...."
Harklight's reminiscing was interrupted by a sharp cough and then a small choking noise.
His eyes snapped to his master immediately.
Slaine was standing slightly bent at the waist, a glass of water in his hand, and a rising blush coloring his cheeks.
Apparently Count Troyard had not noticed that he had needed to sneeze until he was mid-sip and his attempts to suppress his body's natural reaction had only amounted to him almost choking on his drink.
"Slaine-sama!"
Harklight dropped Slaine's coat back on the chair and rushed over, deftly taking out a handkerchief.
Slaine threw up a hand to stop his servant.
*Cough* *Cough* "Oh for goodness sake, Harklight, I can take care of myself. It was only a sneeze."
In the moment their eyes met, Harklight felt something stir within him.
A deep blush had blossomed on Slaine's cheeks, more as a result of appearing like a careless child in front of his servant than because of his drinking mishap. Small tears had appeared in the corners of Slaine's eyes, and his lips were wet with the water that he hadn't managed to nearly choke on.
Harklight watched, frozen in place, as a tiny remnant of Slaine's drink escaped his mouth, dribbling over his soft lips and down the side of his chin.
It was only a second before Slaine had whipped out his handkerchief and dried his mouth, but the image of Slaine-sama's wet lips had already managed to burn itself into Harklight's mind.
"What?"
Slaine must have noticed that Harklight was staring.
"Harklight, really. I'm fine."
Harklight internally heaved a sigh of relief. Apparently Slaine-sama had misinterpreted his overly attentive gaze for concern and not for what it really was: pure, raw desire.
"Ah," Harklight began, but cleared his throat, desperately trying to shove away whatever feelings were surfacing. "I'm glad Slaine-sama is fine."
He turned away from his master, "I'll just go hang up your coat, Slaine-sama. It won't do for it to get wrinkled."
Slaine was glad Harklight had his back to him as he had left to the large walk-in closet that housed the new Count's stupidity prolific wardrobe.
It's just a dumb coat. Slaine thought to himself. Who cares if it gets wrinkled.
He was still annoyed at the "talking-to" he had received at the Council. It wasn't because of the insults. He was used to those. It was because Count Hot Air had gone on for so long, he hadn't been able to secure the transfer of all the technicians he would need for the next round of improvements on Tharsis.
He frowned, eyebrows knit together. He so wanted to rub his fingers against his temples, for all the good that would do.
His eyes wandered to the chair across the room, and then to the door to his dressing room where Harklight had just exited.
He sighed. He really shouldn't have thrown his coat so carelessly.
He felt a wave of shame wash over him.
He'd acted just like his old masters, hadn't he? Unthinkingly causing troubles for others over a minor frustration. After all, he knew what Harklight was like....
What had he been thinking about, earlier?
Oh yes, Tharsis.
Slaine cursed inwardly. The damn council. They still didn't understand that the Terrans were an actual threat. Sure, they were mere insects compared to the Versian military, but even a tiny insect could kill a buffalo.
Worse, Kaizuka Inaho was still alive, and Slaine would be damned if he was going to risk a fight with that prodigy without a fully kitted-out Kataphrakt.
Well, if official channels weren't going to work, he supposed he'd just have to go through unofficial ones.
He typed a few names into his tablet. Yes, this would work. Soon he'd have a newly upgraded Tharsis, and Harklight could have more victories to congratulate him....
Harklight?
Why had the older man suddenly appear in his mind?
Oh gods. That's right. He had managed to thoroughly embarrass himself in front of his servant.
And thank the gods it was only my servant, Slaine thought.
Still, how could an 18 year old boy–no, man–possibly fail to drink a glass of water?
Slaine felt a new blush rising to his cheeks.
He'd seen Harklight's widened eyes of shock and worry, and it had made him feel five thousand times like a bigger idiot than he already was.
But then, there had been something....else there.
Had there been?
Thinking back on his servant's expression, he wasn't sure anymore if he had really seen it. It was almost as if Harklight's eyes had changed color for a moment.
Slaine shook his head vigorously. He really needed to put thoughts of his servant from his mind. There were so many things to do.
He flipped to a new page on his tablet. There was a list of a number of specialist mechanics, each of their names accompanied by the name of the Knight they served.
When Harklight returned, Slaine would have him investigate the lot.
Speaking of which, where was his dark-eyed servant?
Harklight was having a moment. To be more accurate, he was freaking out.
