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marymunchkiin · 2 days ago

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GIRLL ILYSM THIS IS LOVELY U R SO SWEET 🥺🩷 What a wonderful fic! Truly ur talented boo, amen to all TCW fanfic writers fr yall are godsend-

Tysm for sharing my art of the lovely Sarge! Im so happy to have inspired u xoxo ��☺️

Ch 30: Wedding, Part 1

Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 2.8k

Song: That Funny Feeling -- Bo Burnham (from "Inside")

The bell on the door of the butcher shop chimed, and Hunter was surprised to see Omega coming in. Wiping off his blade and hands, he ventured into the front to greet her.

“What’s up, kid?”

“Sorry for embarrassing you at dinner the other night,” she admitted, although the mirth on her face did not convincingly reflect a wealth of remorse.

“Yeah, well… I probably deserve it,” he chuckled. The few days between had replaced the utter humiliation with more of a begrudging acceptance of the whole ordeal.

“You’re just going through your rebellious phase, since you didn’t get to as an adolescent.” Her diagnosis came with twinkling eyes that earned a groan and an eye roll from him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted.

“And that’s alright,” she said sagely. “You’re doing the best you can with what you have. Besides… it’s kind of fun, eh?” She elbowed him in the side, and he squinted at her in suspicion.

“And what do you know about that?”

“Nothing, of course,” she smiled innocently. “Anyway… I have a favor to ask.”

“You’re not off to a good start.”

“Neither are you,” she returned evenly, surprising him into a chuckle. “Some of my friends are going to a beach bonfire, and it starts… like… now. But I was supposed to drop off all this stuff from the last few internships.” She held up a bundle of datacards. “For some reason, my transmitter isn’t working, so I’d have to go up to the school in person. But by the time I get there and back, I’ll have missed most of the bonfire. So…”

“You want me to close the shop and take them to the top of the island?” He lifted an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knew he was going to do it, he just liked to point out what a huge imposition it was.

“You’re closing in eight minutes anyway,” Omega pointed out with an equally knowing grin.

“Fine.”

“Thanks Hunter! You’re the best!” She gave him a hug, dropped her datacards on the counter, and bounced out of the shop with a spring in her step.

It was only then that he was hit with a sudden suspicion of her true motives.

* * *

The walk to the school ended up being just what he needed. It was a beautifully fresh afternoon on the island, with the perfect balance of sunshine and breeze. The sky was dotted with fluffy clouds that gave periodic respites of coolness when the sun would pass behind them, allowing Hunter to avoid getting overheated as he hiked up the winding path. The brick building came into view, bringing up a scourge of memories and emotions, but he attempted to fight them off with an insistent focus on his singular objective: drop the datacards off in the main office and be done.

“Well hello, sir,” the main secretary greeted him as he slipped through the door, quickly donning some lipstick when he turned to secure the knob behind him. She shoved it into a desk drawer as he approached the desk, holding up the datacards. A few ladies were packing up for the day in their cubicles behind her, and he noticed a few others finishing a conversation in the back of the room around a small water dispenser.

“Afternoon,” he said. “I know you’re about to head out. I just wanted to drop these off for Omega. They go to… the internship office.” A quick frown came and went..

“Vetana?” came an abrasive voice from a side office, and a greasy figure swaggered out. “I’ll run em back to her.” None other than Mullet Hanker was the one approaching the counter, a smug expression on his handsome face. The front desk lady’s heart rate increased as he approached, and a light flush painted her cheeks as she fawned at him. He gave her a wink as he reached for the cards, and Hunter felt a tightness in his core.

“Actually,” he said, pulling them back into his hands. “I forgot. Omega needed me to deliver a message too… I’ll just take them around.”

“Oh yeah?” Mullet seemed to recognize Hunter then, and a myriad of emotions danced across his face. “Well I’d be happy to deliver a message as well.”

Hunter stared back at him, keeping his face carefully neutral, but the intensity in his hawkish eyes spoke otherwise. “I appreciate it. But not necessary. Thank you all,” he said, addressing the secretary as well, whose eyes had widened somewhat as she felt the tension sparking between the men. It seemed as though Mullet were about to reply, but he closed his mouth, watching Hunter slip out the door with thinly pressed lips.

Once outside, Hunter took a deep breath, simultaneously apprehensive and indignant at himself for feeling that way. He toyed with the thought of going back and just leaving them after all, and he wondered why he’d felt so immediately insistent that he take them himself. He didn’t want to, if he were honest, but he’d somewhat sealed his fate, so he headed for the main hallway and began a slow walk down the dark, quiet halls. When he arrived at Lyra’s door, halfway open as usual, he paused, trying to calm the tidal wave of frustration and resentment rising within. Finally, he knocked on the door frame and stepped into view.

Lyra looked up quickly, eyes rounding as she recognized him. Panic and hurt flashed across her face, and she remained in her chair, hands spread flat on the desk as though it were the safeguard between them. Hunter held up the datacards, searching for the right words to say and second-guessing every single one.

“Omega asked me to bring these.” A sheepish admittance.

“Ah. Thank you.” She stood to take them from him.

“Yup.” He passed them to her carefully, avoiding any accidental touch of the hands.

Silence.

They looked everywhere but at each other.

“Well… thanks,” he said lamely, then moved back toward the door, slowly, as though held back by some unidentified force.

Lyra watched him, mouth opening and closing a few times. He couldn’t help but look back over his shoulder to offer a polite nod, and he was struck by her body language. She was perched on the edge of her chair like a bird about to take flight, hands fidgeting on the desk before her for a second before she clasped them together to stop the movement. She was emanating a disquiet anticipation and he could feel himself being drawn into her tumult like a boat on stormy seas.

He turned and left without another word.

* * *

“Babe!!” Luci exclaimed, beaming at him as he stood in her doorway. “You look a-maaaaazing!” He stepped in sheepishly, straightening the front of his tuxedo. It was an incredibly formal wedding, a stark contrast to the typically laid-back affairs of the island, and he’d been coerced into wearing a full suit, including a vest and white gloves. Again he had that sensation of being in someone else’s life, but the absolute adoration from Luci was distracting him from the spiky discomfort he was feeling.

She had indeed given him space over the last week, insisting that she would truly be okay with whatever he decided about the wedding. While part of him wanted to refuse out of spite, he had a begrudging compulsion to keep his word. It was a pathetically trivial topic, but the principle of the matter had nagged him into compliance, so here he was, trussed up like a Life Day dinner and being delightedly inspected by Luci.

“What’s this?” she asked, drawing her fingers over a small pin he had added on his left breast pocket.

“Omega made it for me in a job shadow for a welder,” he answered, glancing down at the small skull with two Aurebesh 9s beneath it.

“A bit morbid, don’t you think?” she observed, furrowing her perfectly-shaped brows.

“It’s… an old family crest,” he deflected, standing up a little straighter with an air of authority. Maker, how long had it been since he felt that? Luci read his vibe effortlessly, instead grasping his lapels and pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“Well you look freaking delicious. Maybe too much, actually. Gonna have to beat the ladies away,” she said playfully. “But maybe I’ll give you a run for your money.” She held her arms out, offering a little spin to show off her own outfit, which Hunter had been trying to formulate words to address. She was wearing a bright red, lacy dress that hugged her curves all the way down her body until it flared out gracefully below her thighs. The scalloped neckline danced across her cleavage in a treacherously perfect cut as she adjusted herself one last time.

“The curse of perfect tits,” she giggled, wagging her eyebrows at him. Her lips had never looked so voluptuous, and she’d applied her makeup expertly to give herself a boldly glamorous look, framed by luscious curls that scattered across her shoulders and down to where her dress scooped across her lower back.

“You look…” He was lost for words.

“I know. You’re speechless,” she laughed. She was a bombshell and she knew it, and yet it was somehow not a brag that hid a deeper insecurity but rather a seemingly effortless confidence that she carried into virtually every aspect of her life. Turning to look at her floor-length mirror, she tilted her head as she stood beside him. “We look damn good together.”

He nodded and waited by the door as she pulled on some black high heels followed by a dab of perfume from an ornate, gold-plated bottle. With one last scrutinizing glance, she joined him in the doorway, satisfied. Her sweet-yet-spicy scent filled his nostrils, and the heat radiating from her bare chest was palpable. She had skipped on jewelry, which surprised him as she was typically adorned with a luxurious array of gold necklaces and earrings, but her nails were long and bright red, a perfect match to the dress, and the hair and makeup was above and beyond. She’d turn heads, no doubt.

Luci was in the wedding, which, as Hunter quickly discovered, meant that she was needed for a whole lot of things that didn’t involve him. There were two brides, each uniquely decorated with the customary attire of their home worlds, and a large bridal party made up of friends that all seemed to know each other well.

So he was left to fend for himself as the final ceremony preparations were made, opting to slink around the perimeter of the patio before finding a nice, quiet corner to tuck himself into. The outdoor area was made entirely of stone, with mature trees draping their leaves over the roofs and railing of a balcony that curved across the side to reveal a stunning vista below. As the sun lowered, it painted the horizon with a beautiful, creamy light that gave an ethereal feel to the evening.

Hunter fidgeted with his gloves, noticing with a wry smile just how odd they now felt, despite the fact that he’d been wearing gloves almost his entire life. Different ones, granted, but it was further proof of the irrevocable shifts of the last few years. An elderly couple approached him, wandering away from the throngs of people that were quickly filling the seats and space, and he stood up straighter, offering a polite dip of the head as they neared.

“Well aren’t you a dashing young man,” the lady spoke, her quavery voice sweet as honey as she looked him up and down. “Look at him, Arro.” She elbowed the feeble-looking man next to her, who was hunched so much that Hunter was looking more at the top of his head than his face. The labored straightening of a stiffened spine brought the man’s eyes to Hunter, and a mischievous smirk curved his wrinkled cheeks.

“Quite a delightful specimen,” chuckled Arro, who slowly lowered his gaze back to his frail wife. “But he lacks a certain… jenessekwah…” He drifted off, wiggling his eyebrows and earning a burst of embarrassed laughter from the woman.

“Oh, pulling out the Twi’leki, I see!” she giggled, the wrinkles on her face settling into the smile lines that she had clearly spent years carving out. “What a night!”

Hunter could not have felt more distinctly “other”, and yet there was something about the deep love and familiarity between the two of them that created a dull ache in his chest. He forgot whatever Twi’leki phrase he’d conjured up to impress the two of them and instead excused himself with some genuine well-wishes and a bow. He found an empty seat in the back of the rows, with some space between it and the people further down, and he slipped into it, glancing at his chrono, then checking his comm.

Minutes ticked by. The crowd grew louder. The seats filled. The host of the evening took his place at the front, giving a five-minute warning that the ceremony would soon begin. Hunter was doing everything he could to avoid the merciless waves of thoughts that seemed to be intent on afflicting him. It was frustrating that, after a lifetime of having clear missions laid out for him, a squad to tackle them with, and a litany of distinct, purposeful plans at his disposal, he was spending the “free” portion of his life in what felt like a complete freefall. Memories flickered at the edges of his consciousness – joy and loss, victory and defeat, contentment and confusion – moving his forehead in tiny flinches as each took its turn.

“Well fancy seeing you here!” Two women appeared from behind, dressed to the nines and clearly delighted to be there. Hunter recognized one of them from the school office, though he’d never talked to her directly… Unless she was part of the herd that sometimes visited his shop. They stepped past his legs, one being far more careful than the other not to brush against him, and sat down neatly in the chairs right beside him. “Hunter, right?” the office lady said, offering a hand, which he gently shook. “I don’t think we’ve ever officially met. I’m Ketzya. This is my friend Araquella.” The friend leaned forward with a friendly wave and her textured dark hair fell over her shoulders, framing a brilliant smile. She was beautiful, and the mere noticing of such a thing somehow made Hunter feel angry.

“Nice to meet you both,” he replied automatically, forcing the hint of a smile onto his sharp features, but it was immediately frozen. Past the women, across the aisle, he saw a familiar form. Lyra was exchanging pleasantries with a few Xyloan elders, head tilted at their words as she listened intently. One of them clasped her hand, nodding vigorously, and she smiled demurely, lowering her head in humility before picking her way across a row to an empty seat.

“And how do you know the brides?” Ketzya asked, as Araquella settled back into her seat.

“What?” Hunter said it far too loud, startling himself and both ladies, and he jerked his eyes back to them. “Oh. Uhh. I…Um…” He paused, entirely unsure of the social nuances of a situation like this.

“Haha, oh I see!” Ketzya giggled, leaning in to gently elbow him in the side, which again irritated him more than it should have. “Wedding crasher, eh? Sweetheart, if you want a free dinner, you just have to say the word.” She batted her eyelashes at him, snickering at her own magnificent wit, while Hunter simply stared, dumbfounded.

“Subtle,” her friend observed, tipping her head back to catch his eye behind Ketzya’s head. He watched her eyes roll before they crinkled into a smile.

“What!” came the protest, and the school worker lifted both hands in surrender. “I’m just stating the obvious. You tellin me you wouldn’t do anything he told you?” Ketzya looked at Araquella now, and Hunter wondered if she’d been drinking or was simply always this unfiltered, but her friend huffed indignantly and stared right back.

“What if all he wants is for you to shut up and leave him alone?” she retorted, but her face was relaxed and Ketzya burst into laughter. They clearly had some kind of understanding. “Besides,” Araquella continued, “No one is bossing me around.” She leaned back again to address Hunter, “No offense.”

“None taken,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He glanced around the patio as surreptitiously as possible, wondering if he could slip out unnoticed and find Luci at the reception. Why did he need to be here anyway? He hadn’t thought to ask and was deeply regretting it now. But alas, the gentle background music gave way to a proclamation, and the ceremonial fanfare began.

I had to write in Hunter's outfit after seeing this DELICIOUS fanart of tuxedo Hunter by @marymunchkiin!! Click the link and show it some love.