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dmitriene · 8 months

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— stolen glances.

᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌«she smiled and looked at me» ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ «i was surprised to see» ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌«that a woman like that was really into me»

summary: awkward glimpses at the bar and mutual interest in each other's person turned into a rather pleasant walk home. content: chris redfield x gn reader tags: pure fluff, comfort, mentions of alcohol, not much plot. author's note: wanted to write something new with chris but in the middle of the work i feeled a little bit insecure, so maybe i will even take this work down, but still, hope you'll enjoy! enjoy your reading) 🥃

The bar exuded a warm, inviting atmosphere that beckoned tired souls seeking solace, dimmed light illuminating the polished wood surfaces with soft light, creating an atmosphere of calm and seclusion from the outside world, the low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses and quiet music harmoniously combined to form a soothing backdrop for Chris's Redfield visits.

Chris entered through the worn wooden door, his heavy boots muting the plush carpet beneath him, his broad shoulders visibly relaxed as he entered the hideout, the burden of past missions and horrors he had witnessed slowly dissipating, the smell of aged wood and worn leather greeted his senses, recalling the familiar comfort he found in this place.

He took his usual seat at the far end of the bar from where he could watch the room without being the center of attention, the bartenders knew him well and served him his favorite drink without question, a simple glass of bourbon, he sipped it slowly, enjoying the copious warmth that seeped through him, offering respite from the chilling memories that often haunted his thoughts.

But one fateful day, as if the universe conspired to give him a short respite, he saw you, you were a flash of color and life in a dimly lit room, your hair fell like silk, framing your face that seemed to radiate a gentle radiance, lurking in your eyes a depth that is both mysterious and alluring, like uncharted territory that he yearned to explore.

The moment your gaze met his for a moment, time seemed to stop, your soft, bright smile was like a beacon cutting through the shadows and warming the corners of his heart, his cheeks flushed as he turned away, feeling as if went into a trance, for a man who has faced monsters and survived battles, the mere act of meeting your eyes made him feel vulnerable, like a schoolboy enchanted by his first love.

He glanced when he could, his attention was drawn to you like a moth to a flame, every time your eyes met his heart fluttered in his chest and he quickly looked away, feigning casualness, although his thoughts were consumed by you, the way you were chatting with the bartender, the laughter that graced your lips was like a symphony playing in tune with his own desires.

Your fleeting presence became his secret refuge within this haven, he found solace not only in the cozy atmosphere of the bar, but also in your glances, although he never got the courage to approach, he found a strange satisfaction, just sharing space with you, bathed in your unearthly glow in the distance.

True, despite the cozy familiarity of the bar, whenever Chris thought about approaching you, there was an atmosphere of unease around Chris, he sat in his usual place day after day, the smooth wooden surface of the counter was worn away under his fingertips, his unfinished drink stood before him, forgotten as he wrestled with his thoughts and insecurities.

His gaze inevitably darted to you, gracefully sitting at the far end of the room from him behind the bar, you were like a shining star in a dimly lit atmosphere, captivating not only his eyes but also his heart, trying to talk to you, bridge the gap between your two worlds constantly pulled him, nevertheless, he was held captive by nervousness and fear of going beyond his borders.

He squeezed his glass, feeling the cool condensation on its surface with his fingers, watching you talk to the bartender or share a laugh with other patrons, the thought swirled in his head to buy you a drink, a simple gesture that could potentially open the door to conversation, but as soon as an idea formed, doubts crept into him, causing him to hesitate.

Instead, he opted for subtlety, his gaze turning to you from time to time, furtively darting glances when he thought you weren't looking, hoping to remember every detail of your presence, the soft curve of your smile, the way your hair reflected light and how your eyes shined when you laughed — every moment crashed into his memory like a treasured photograph.

There were times when you turned your gaze in his direction and his heart skipped a beat, your eyes met, a fleeting connection from which a shiver ran down his spine, in those short seconds his thoughts raced, his mind desperately searched for something to say, but before he mustered up the courage act, you will turn away, once again immersed in your own world.

It was a dance of missed opportunities, Chris was a man of action on the battlefield, but in matters of the heart he was trapped by the inertia of uncertainty, he would watch you, his feelings build like a crescendo until the weight of his own hesitation made him retreat, there were nights when he finished his drink and, without saying a word, slipped out of the bar, leaving behind only the memories of his stolen looks.

The atmosphere of the bar was a quiet symphony of glances and unspoken desires, but he wasn't the only one to glance, your eyes were drawn to him with an almost magnetic attraction in return, every time he looked away you allowed yourself to cast fleeting glances in his direction, your heart fluttered with anticipation and shyness.

Talk and laughter filled the air, but your attention was often drawn to the corners where he sat, the ambient light seemed to create a halo around his body, bathing him in a soft and inviting light, and as you sipped your drink, you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to recognize him if not counting stolen glances is a mixture of excitement and vulnerability that has you biting your lip in awkward contemplation.

Your thoughts were a whirlwind of possibilities, dreams that danced like fireflies in the night, there was a longing in the atmosphere, a longing for connection beyond stolen moments, every time he looked away you let your eyes follow his movement, capturing him on your periphery, as if you were stealing a glimpse of a world you weren't sure you could enter.

But just as quickly as those thoughts came, you brushed them aside, the reality of the situation and its uncertainty clouding your vision was a reminder that sometimes dreams are best left as dreams, the taste of the drink and the laughter of friends provided an anchor in the present, plunging you into a world that was both familiar and safe.

Biting the lip became a reflex, a gesture reflecting the internal conflict you felt, the desire to know it, to break the barrier of stolen glances fought against the apprehension that often accompanies the unknown, the atmosphere was a dance between what could have been and what was, each stolen a look and a fleeting thought was a step in the choreography of emotions.

Little by little the atmosphere in the bar changed slightly — the days turned into weeks, and there was not even a hint of his presence around, the dim light that once glowed with a warm and inviting light now casts longer shadows, creating an atmosphere of uncertainty, conversations always continued around you and laughter, but a hidden unease began to be felt as your eyes searched involuntarily for his familiar figure.

There seemed to be an air of melancholy in the air, as if the very walls of the bar reflected the absence that engulfed your heart, each visit to the bar became a mixture of hopes and disappointments, your gaze lingered on the empty place where he usually sat, conversations that once attracted your attention seemed to fade into the background while your thoughts were consumed by the question of where he might have gone.

The bar, once a place of socializing and stealthy glances, now had an atmosphere of uncertainty, the bartenders smiling sympathetically, perhaps realizing that the silent search had become a routine, and the surroundings seemed to hold a quiet longing, as if the very air was waiting for his return to restore disturbed balance.

The introduction to the bar became a place where memories of stolen glances and shared moments flourished, but also a reminder of his absence, the emptiness of his usual place seeming to cast a shadow over all that had previously been able to brighten the space.

Time dragged on and there was a sense of protracted anticipation in the atmosphere, a desire to see him again intertwined with growing uncertainty.

Did he move on? Did he just take a break?

Questions went unanswered and the bar became a canvas for a story that was shelved.

And then on a day marked by an unexpected change in the daily routine, fate intervened, you left the bar through the side entrance, your thoughts were focused on something other than your usual routine, and at exactly the same time Chris was about to enter, his steps carried him to the harbor, which became both his refuge and his torment.

The collision was as unexpected as it was awkward — your worlds collided in a moment of unforeseen connection, his strong body met your smaller one and the impact pierced both of you, the smell of cigarettes and inviting perfume enveloping the space between you, creating an atmosphere both intoxicating and familiar.

For a brief moment he took over your thoughts and questions and uncertainties were replaced by a mixture of surprise and curiosity, for a moment time seemed to stop as his presence engulfed your thoughts, his deep eyes, usually directed down or across the room, now met yours in the most unexpected circumstances.

— «I'm sorry for that» he muttered in a deep voice tinged with amusement, his eyes both apologetic and curious, as if he was seeing you for the first time even though you had been in his thoughts for weeks.

— «No harm done)» you managed to mutter, and there was nervousness in your voice, a blush flooded your cheeks, your heart beat wildly, the closeness of this person who used to be a distant figure suddenly became tangible and real, and the conversation between you went on its own.

The conversation flowed suddenly, like a river bursting its banks, awkward cheers turned into stories and shared laughter, as if your unspoken bond had finally found a voice, the atmosphere between you changed from vague to comfortable, the background of the bar became secondary, and our words danced in the air.

His laughter, warm and sincere, was like music in harmony with the rhythm of your heart, and the initial awkwardness was replaced by a sense of familiarity that seemed both natural and inspiring, as we talked, the world around him seemed to disappear, leaving only his presence and common moments.

Minutes turned into moments, and the air was filled with tension, promising something more, with a spark in his eyes, he offered — «You know, i could walk you home, that's the least i can do after i almost hit you»

The invitation hung in the air, a question shrouded in vulnerability and hope, you felt a warmth rise inside you, a mixture of surprise and delight at the prospect of expanding your newfound bond of acquaintance, so with a smile reflecting the moonlit night, you nodded — «I wouldn't mind»

His coat thrown abruptly around your shoulders was a physical manifestation of his presence, a symbol of the closeness that grew between you as you walked side by side, your steps echoed in harmony, there was almost no gap between you, everything around you was filled with unspoken electricity, a palpable connection that seemed to draw you closer with every step.

Conversations flowed easily, interspersed with general laughter and instinctive touches, the coat around you became a common shield from the cold night air, creating a cocoon of intimacy, enveloping the two of you, with every moment the distance between your bodies seemed to shrink until it felt like you were walking side by side. side by side, not just in space, but in the sphere of common emotions.

And when you came to your doorstep, tenderness played in his eyes, which reflected the emotions that were seething inside you — «I had a great time tonight» you confessed, your voice was a low whisper.

— «Me too» he replied, his voice a gentle whisper that resonated deep inside, the bond between you was undeniable — built through stolen glances and shared conversations.

— «Will I be able to see you again?» he asked, and the question hung in the air like a promise.

With a smile that contained all the hope and possibility of a new beginning, you nodded — «I would like to)»

When he said goodnight to you his fingers touched yours, a touch containing the promise of what was to come, everything was captured by the magic of the moment, and when he left, leaving you on the doorstep, you couldn't help but feel that the walls of the bar, when — then silent witnesses of stolen glances, now they keep echoes of a connection that has finally found its voice.

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#chris redfeild x reader #chris redfield fluff #chris redfield x reader #resident evil chris #chris redfield #resident evil #chris redfield fanfic #chris redfield x you #chris resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fluff #resident evil fic #[ ✒️july writing ]

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thithesandofferings · 3 months

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Title: The Be-comings of Ardor

Summary: You win the Demon Kure Raian as a prize. Now its up to you to get you to acknowledge him.

Pairing: Raian x Reader

AN: To be very honest, I just wanted something to write. Based of the excerpt from here . I wanted to write a slow burn Raian x Reader but...i didnt know the plot so uhm...you get him as a demon... Also this fandom isnt as big so really 8 people could read it and id be fine.

Tags: Descriptions of violence. Slow...slow burn. Eventual smut. Multi-chaptered. Nothing too crazy. I havent decided if I wanted to get any crazier lol. Honestly this is just an excuse to learn how to write descriptively so please bare with me.

You are drenched when you are told about your prize . You don't have time to dwell on past lives sticking and caving into your skin. Becoming an uninvited home in your nails. Teeth aching from the minute grinding of bone. Gums stained sticky with blood that isn't yours. Acrid air pours through your lashes as you try to blink through the chaos staining the marrow of your skull. There is an in-depth ignorance when you stand on your enemies. Your hunger docile only by the swaths of meat you have taken. Pealing and rotting underneath your tongue. You can taste their rage and despair. It feels like condemnation.

The Kure family is filled with demons. Gifting you a malevolent spirit for your victorious slaughter is an inconsequential choice. An ancestor long since passed. Has been alive since the world had begun to form. You do not dwell much on it. Empty... Distant and unsure of who you are at the present. Wondering if the sands at your feet have packed your soul away too.

They tell you with unsteady hands and sympathetic looks that "no one has ever been able to handle him properly." Glee tugs at simpered lips when they whisper that you will surely die if you cannot handle it.

It. Primordial. Eldritch almost in nature. The demon has ruthlessly taken countless. Sharpening its tongue with hollowed bones for the sake of good weather. They produce photos of him. The clans black eyes shimmer with thoughts of humiliation and desire to ruin when they show you their past relative. He's a God in their roving eyes. To finally ascend is a gift to them. You are driven by an instinctual tug to move when you do see the creature. He was a beast even in his former life. Hulking mass with a propensity to maim and kill.

Contempt licks up the path of your skin at the thought of fearing him. You are greeted immediately with an unbecoming emotion that impales you. Greed. A snarling voice unlike your own, claws through your numbing brain. He is yours. Your honor cannot be tampered when you think about the battles you fought and won to earn him. A cruel heat scatters your skin and you think briefly that it may be possession. You shrug it off as an afterthought.

You have always known that gluttony and greed ring soundly in your blood. Now is not the time to dwell on ideas and dreams.

The grim faces of men circle you in the centerfold to perform the ritual, bringing the archaic demon. You have killed enough men to honor its terms. The air is stale with apprehension and slighted fear. You have to prove that you're worthy, even after all the lives strayed across the sand. If you are not, then your life- and the men around you, will end.

You've never been much afraid of death.

The whispers bring forth laden wind. Wet and dense, petrichor aching to dig its teeth into your skin. There is an unnatural silence once the mutters of ancient tongue cease. Crickets noises snuffed out with the unease of the earth as it waits.

Your body knows the moment he is there. The heat almost searing at the back of your neck when he stands behind you. His massive frame slicing through the permeable silence as you hear the shuffling of the men almost forgotten. Your eyes are closed and yet you can still almost taste the ephemeral life that is behind you. The age weighs heavy on your bones. Ancient. Like they said. Inhuman in a way that makes you think that your future is just to be leftovers for him. His frame claws at you. Shadows peeling across your skin, scalding and feverish, beckoning you to turn around.

You are not one to back down from a challenge.

He takes the form of a human. Flinty, barely holding his power into the meat suit he prostrates himself in. He's the biggest thing you have ever seen in your life. Muscles fight for space, veins bulge and quake proudly. His strength carries him as he strides towards you in slow, decadents steps. Hulking in mass. He is a monster. Teeth sharpened with sharpened glee. Lips spread too wide for it to be comfortable. Skin peeling on the corners, blood tunneling to the front. There is madness in the poisoned whites of his eyes. Black ink devouring you, crumbling your resolve when you look at him. They're like nothing you've ever seen before. Archaic, unnatural- predatory when he accesses you. An ancestral look you know all too well, the look of suddenly finding prey. Gravity finds a way into the black holes that suffocates his gaze. It makes your knees tremble. You are not ready to discuss why it is not fear that echoes and tracks the shivers in your hands.

He is so close that you smell him. Ashen and bloodied earth clog your senses and you have to quickly blink away the tears from the strength of it. It mellows your brain, cleaning the abject cobwebs littered across.

You're distracted enough that you cant run from the grip he has on your wrist. Pinching and crunching the already bruised flesh, you know he is assessing you. His stare burning and muted, you feel like an insect.

His manic gaze suddenly cools, air becoming increasingly stale and scarce. He lets go off your wrist, throws it more like, and begins to walk toward the people you had briefly forgotten existed.

"Raian, we are so glad that-" There is a choked and horrid crack as you hear the mans body falls listlessly to the ground.

"Shut up and find me something to eat before I decide its going to be you." There is a stalled millisecond of silence before the group shuffles away with their ancestor in front.

The one who never looks back at you again.

Your so called prize no longer even acknowledges you.

The ache of death and fear permeates your bones. Muted until now, it is time for you to go home. A small smile cracking the edge of your lips.

#raian x reader #kengan ashura #kengan omega #kure raian #raian kure #thithesandofferings

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bambirex · 5 months

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New Depths

Pairings: Geraskefer

Characters: Jaskier, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt of Rivia

Additional tags: sex magic, cursed sex, but it's the good kind, jaskier has a vagina, penis in vagina sex, oral sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, riding, dirty talk, anal fingering, pegging, strap-ons, sex toys, porn what plot/porn without plot, threesome- f/m/m

Word count: 3,375 words

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: explicit

Summary: Jaskier asks Yennefer to perform a strange spell on him. No one's ready for how much he actually enjoys the results.

Author's notes: More than 3k words of pure smut, all centered around Jaskier having a pussy? It's more likely than you think! He's a kinky bastard and he would absolutely get a kick out of this, as much as I do.

Feedback, as always, is super appreciated!!

Read on Ao3

Yennefer threw her head back with a moan as Jaskier’s tongue slid across her clit. She spread her legs wider, welcoming his fingers inside. She was a vision of ultimate, debauched pleasure, making the most beautiful sounds as Jaskier teased her with his tongue and drew out her bliss with his hand. She rocked her hips forward for more, one hand tangling in Jaskier’s hair to shove his face closer to her mound.

“That’s it,” she breathed, languidly moving against Jaskier’s face and fingers, “you’re so good for me.”

Jaskier moaned against her clit. He circled his tongue quicker, pressing it against the sensitive bundle of nerves. He hooked his fingers and rubbed that sweet spot inside her until she trembled, her wetness gushing out. She tightened around Jaskier’s fingers as she came, her pussy throbbing as the bard licked her through her orgasm.

Yennefer’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes hooded with bliss as she looked down at him. Jaskier licked his mouth with a happy purr before he nuzzled against Yennefer’s thigh. Yennefer smiled as she caressed his hair.

“How does it feel?” Jaskier asked. Yennefer cocked an eyebrow at him.

“What, you’re getting insecure about your skills, now? You know it feels incredible.”

“I mean, how does it feel,” Jaskier ran his hand over Yennefer’s mound, “to have this?”

Yennefer blinked at him. She waited for a clearer explanation to come, but Jaskier just stared up at her curiously, still caressing her skin.

“Not sure what you expect me to tell you, Jaskier. You know exactly what it feels like to be fucked.”

“I know,” Jaskier chuckled, “you know I love that. But being fucked in the ass must feel different than being touched here, no? It’s all… different.”

There was a strange longing in his eyes. It made Yennefer perk up.

“Sometimes,” Jaskier continued, almost forlornly, running his fingers over Yennefer’s inner thigh in circles, “I wish I had what you have. Just for a couple days. I’ve seen you and other people in the throes of passion when they were touched here, and fuck. I wanna know what it’s like.”

He licked his lips as he looked up at Yennefer. A smirk slowly spread on his face, and his eyes turned dark. Yennefer found a new fire burning up in her core.

“Maybe you can help me, beloved witch of mine,” Jaskier all but purred. He knelt up until they were face level. He rubbed his nose along Yennefer’s jaw. “Would you fulfill the wish of your longing lover?”

“You want me to magic you a pussy,” Yennefer stated with a chuckle. Jaskier bit his lip, but there was no shame in his expression. Of course. He didn’t know shame. He enjoyed pleasure in all its form: he was quite greedy when it came to sex, and he never wanted to stop experimenting. Honestly, it was a wonder he hasn’t requested something like this before.

“Just for a few days,” Jaskier drawled. He kissed Yennefer’s neck, making her shiver pleasantly. “Gift me with the pleasure you feel.”

Fuck, this should have been ridiculous. Instead, Yennefer felt heat coil in her lower belly at his words. She had never met a man who practically begged her to make his cock disappear and replace it with a cunt, but Jaskier was no ordinary man. And if he looked so sweet bent over and getting fucked in his ass, how incredible would he be if he got to experience what Yennefer felt? What kind of sounds he would make?

Yennefer didn’t need further convincing. It was enough for Jaskier to look up at her like that, and for her to imagine what was to come.

Jaskier probably knew he already won, because he gave her a smug smirk as he rose to his feet, just in time for Geralt to arrive. The witcher stopped in the doorway, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his naked, flushed lovers.

“You started without me,” he sounded almost hurt, if it wasn’t for the obvious lust in his eyes. Jaskier sauntered over to him and kissed him on the lips, shamelessly pressing his naked body against Geralt’s.

“Yennefer is going to give me something new,” he grinned. Geralt raised an eyebrow in question.

“Something new?”

“He wants me to make him a pussy,” Yennefer explained easily as she stood from her seat. She enjoyed Geralt’s hungry eyes on her body as she walked over to him. “He wants to know how that feels.”

Geralt hummed. He looked at Jaskier who kept grinning. Geralt reached out and grabbed his jaw, making Jaskier gasp in delight.

“I’d love to see that,” he drawled. Yennefer grinned. She better got to work quickly.

It took her about a week to come up with a spell that was reversible, harmless and actually enjoyable. She was still a little nervous that she would end up accidentally hurting Jaskier, but the bard didn’t seem to have those hung-ups. He lounged on the bed completely naked, legs spread apart. His cock was already erect, his cheeks flushed. His long lashes fluttered as Geralt kissed all over his neck, his calloused fingers toying with Jaskier’s nipples.

“Are you ready?” Yennefer asked as she sat on the bed with them. Jaskier nodded, spreading his thighs further apart. Yennefer gave his cock a teasing squeeze, making him gasp.

“Aren’t you gonna miss this?”

“A little,” Jaskier admitted. He licked his lips slowly. “But I’m craving something new.”

Yennefer shook her head with a fond smile. She exchanged a glance with Geralt, who looked just as excited as Jaskier. Of course, he was no blushing virgin either. Their sex life was never boring.

Yennefer placed her hand over Jaskier’s dick and murmured the spell under her breath. Jaskier squirmed a little and made a sound, but he didn’t seem to be in discomfort. Yennefer could feel her magic course through her fingertips, and she felt warmth spread beneath her hand. Geralt peered over her shoulder, a little concerned.

When Yennefer pulled her hand back, Geralt made a guttural, deep noise. Jaskier looked down and let out a delighted gasp. Yennefer grinned.

She ran her fingers over the thick dark hair over Jaskier’s newfound mound. He gasped as Yennefer tugged on the hair playfully, pulling it just enough to give him that thrilling, light ache that he loved. He looked beautiful. His mound was fleshy, and as he opened his legs, Yennefer saw that tantalizing pink valley. She ran a finger down on it, making Jaskier tremble.

“How does it feel?” Geralt asked, watching Yennefer’s hand explore. His hand was on Jaskier’s thigh, his fingers digging into his flesh. Jaskier whimpered as Yennefer experimentally spread his lips.

“Interesting,” Jaskier breathed. His chest heaved as he stared down between his legs. “Oh, it feels…wet.”

“Good,” Yennefer laughed. She continued teasing her fingers along Jaskier’s labia that swell under her touch. She could smell his arousal. Geralt probably smelt it, too, if his moan was any indication. Yennefer cupped his cheek with her other hand, smirking at him.

“Look,” she told him as she spread Jaskier. Geralt licked his lips hungrily as Yennefer pressed her thumb against Jaskier’s clit. Jaskier cried out.

“Again,” he demanded, pushing his hips forward. Yennefer took Geralt’s hand and led it there. Geralt immediately understood his job. He started gently rubbing Jaskier’s clit with his thumb while Yennefer teased his opening. Jaskier grabbed onto the sheets and swore.

“Sweet Melitele,” he all but wheezed, his body shivering as Geralt rubbed him. Geralt grinned and started kissing over Jaskier’s mound, burying his face in the generous hair there. Yennefer gently pushed her index finger inside. It slipped in easily, as Jaskier was already soaking wet. Jaskier made a beautiful sound and immediately clenched around her finger.

“More,” he whined, desperately fucking himself on the finger inside him. He threw a hand over his face, mewling when Geralt pressed on his clit a little harder. “Fuck, I’m going to die. Can you die from sex that’s too good…? Ah!”

His back arched off the bed as Yennefer carefully added another finger. Jaskier yielded so perfectly, beautifully opening up to them. His wetness trickled down Yennefer’s knuckles. He grabbed onto Geralt’s hair and pulled on it desperately. Poor thing didn’t know what to do with himself as he got overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Do you think you can handle three?” Yennefer asked him. She gently scissored her fingers inside, stretching him out. Jaskier made a breathless sound. It must have been so strange for him, to be filled in this new, unfamiliar place, but he took to the sensation like a duck to water. He took cock so well in his tight ass, being fucked in a much wetter, much more stretchy hole was a piece of cake for him.

“Yes!” Jaskier all but cried. He clamped down around Yennefer’s fingers, desperately sucking them deeper inside. Geralt gently pinched his clit between two fingers, rubbing the sensitive nub between them. Jaskier nearly sobbed with pleasure.

“You feel so good, Jask,” Geralt murmured. He continued pleasuring him as Yennefer pushed another finger inside him. He was so warm, so wet, velvety soft around her fingers. He was perfect like that. Yennefer hooked her fingers to find that spot inside him. She grinned as she felt it, and as Jaskier practically howled.

“Fu-uck, Yennefer, Geralt, fuck, ah!” Jaskier screamed incoherently as he trashed on the bed. Geralt murmured sweet nothings to him as he pressed down on his clit harder. Yennefer fucked him fast, attacking his sweet spot, determined to make him cum on the first try.

Jaskier made an almost inhuman sound as he came, tightening around Yennefer’s fingers like a vice and shoving his hips hard against Geralt’s hand. He seemed to be coming for ages before he collapsed on the bed, chest rising up and down quickly, his body twitching with the tremors of his orgasm.

“This was… fucking incredible,” Jaskier panted. “This was heaven.”

It must have been truly heaven for him, because he seemed to be insatiable. He insisted to keep his new appendage for a little longer.

Geralt woke up that night to a weight pressing down on him. He blearily blinked his eyes open. Jaskier sat on his lap, naked as they all slept that night. He rocked against Geralt’s crotch, whimpering softly.

“Hey,” Geralt greeted him croakily. “What are you doing?”

His cock quickly filled out and rose in interest as Jaskier kept rubbing against it. Geralt sat up and grabbed his hips. Jaskier whined.

“Fuck me,” Jaskier all but begged. Geralt could feel his wetness drench his lap as he grinded down against him. He swore as Jaskier’s swollen pussy lips caught his dick between them. Jaskier gasped and rocked against him harder.

“Are you sure?” Geralt asked, his own composure crumbling at the delicious friction. He ached to be inside Jaskier, but he didn’t want to hurt him.

“Please,” Jaskier nearly cried, “I need you in here. Right now. Please, Geralt. I need you.”

The fact Jaskier was so obsessed with his new magical body part lit a fire inside Geralt. He groaned as he kissed Jaskier hungrily, licking inside his mouth as he moved his own hips forward, letting them rub together. Jaskier never stopped whining against his mouth, desperately wriggling to get Geralt inside.

“Slow down,” Geralt warned him. He stilled Jaskier with an iron grip around his waist. He positioned his dick at his entrance carefully. Jaskier’s hole was already wet and twitching, needily trying to pull him in. Geralt carefully started pushing inside. He watched Jaskier’s face as he went in, inch by inch. Jaskier cried out and clawed at his shoulders for leverage.

“Does it hurt?” Geralt asked. He slipped a hand between them to gently rub Jaskier’s clit, trying to take his mind off the pain.

“Burns a little,” Jaskier admitted. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose. “But I want it.”

Geralt continued playing with his clit as the head of his dick slowly popped in. He let Jaskier sit on it for a while. Soon enough, Jaskier’s pain melted to give place to pleasure as he started rocking his hips. His eyes rolled back in his head.

“Oh, this feels so good,” he moaned as he moved his hips back and forth. Geralt didn’t move, letting him ride the way he wanted. Yennefer stirred awake next to them. Geralt saw the confusion on her face give place to thrill as she watched them.

“Someone’s pussy was hungry, huh?” She cooed. Jaskier moaned at her words. He gripped onto Geralt’s shoulders as he lifted himself. He was always very good at riding, but it felt much different this way. He was as wet as Yennefer was, easily sliding down on Geralt’s length. He moaned as Jaskier easily took him all the way, spearing himself on his cock.

Yennefer nuzzled into Geralt’s neck, peppering kisses all over his skin as she watched the show unfold. Jaskier tossed his head back, revealing the long line of his neck as he rode Geralt with abandon. He kept making those beautiful sounds, and he was so tight and wet around his dick, Geralt was sure he wouldn’t be able to last long. Yennefer’s hot breath against his neck, and her clever fingers teasing his chest didn’t help matters.

“Cum inside me,” Jaskier all but demanded as he bounced on his dick up and down. “I want you to fill me up here.”

Geralt swore. Yennefer grinned against his neck.

“You heard him,” she whispered hotly, “do it, now.”

Geralt’s grip on Jaskier’s hips tightened as he pulled him down. Jaskier moaned in bliss as Geralt pumped deep inside him. Geralt buried his face in Jaskier’s chest as he came in him. Jaskier followed him soon, shaking and whimpering as he clenched around Geralt’s oversensitive dick.

Yennefer watched them with a triumphant grin.

When Jaskier played with this idea for the first time, he was certain it would feel good. He knew other people who had pussies loved to be touched and fucked there, but his imagination was nothing compared to the real thing. It was a feeling so utterly perfect, that Jaskier just couldn’t get enough.

Poor Geralt and Yennefer soon started to run ragged with his needs. He has always been an insatiable man in bed, but this new experience took him to new heights. He always wanted something inside his soaking wet hole, or a tongue lapping up his pleasure, toying with his sensitive clit. He practically got addicted to the sensations his cunt could offer.

If his lovers weren’t around to take care of him, he was more than happy to pleasure himself. He would grab one of his toys and shove it deep inside him, fucking himself until he saw stars.

Yennefer and Geralt always enjoyed the show when they accidentally walked in on him, just like now, as he laid on the bed, back arching like a bowstring as he worked the dildo in and out of himself. Jaskier cried out as the thick head of the toy hit that incredible spot inside him. It felt similar to that spot inside his ass that always made him writhe with pleasure. Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut as he tirelessly fucked himself, his cunt hungrily clenching around the toy.

“You just can’t get enough, can you,” Geralt drawled. He palmed his dick through his pants as he watched him. Jaskier cracked one eye open, his body lighting up as he saw them staring at him from the doorway. He angled the toy to hit that spot again, crying out.

“Maybe we should keep you that way,” Yennefer grinned, licking her lips. “Keep that needy cunt.”

Jaskier panted as he fucked himself harder. His wrist ached, but he didn’t want to stop. He writhed on the bed, looking up at his lovers with lust-filled eyes.

“We should get you a plug,” Yennefer continued, her eyes fixated on the large dildo stretching Jaskier’s hole obscenely. “So you would never go empty.”

“Those plugs that can vibrate on their own,” Geralt added with a smirk. “Pleasuring you all the time. Otherwise you would never be satisfied.”

Jaskier felt tears of pleasure stream down his face as he pressed the toy deep inside, dragging it along his sensitive inner walls before filling himself up completely, desperately trying to quell this ever-lasting hunger in him.

He tasted so incredible. Different than Yennefer, a little less salty, but still intense and unique. Geralt licked into him hungrily, tasting his overflowing pleasure as he thrusted his tongue inside his hole. Jaskier trembled against his face, his thighs clamping around his head as he rode Geralt’s tongue.

He smelled delicious, too. Geralt buried his nose in his hairy mound, breathing in the intoxicating, heady scent of his arousal. He gripped Jaskier’s thighs tighter, helping him rock against his face.

Yennefer stood over his chest, gently tapping Jaskier’s hips. Jaskier lifted them weakly so Yennefer could finger his ass. He trembled and mewled as he was attacked with pleasure from both sides. Geralt thrust his tongue deep just as Yennefer scissored her own lubed fingers inside Jaskier’s asshole. Jaskier buckled, grabbing at the headboard to keep himself from collapsing over Geralt’s face.

“Relax,” Yennefer purred as she retracted her fingers and started pressing the toy that was attached to her groin with straps to Jaskier’s hole. Jaskier bit his lip hard, all the muscles in his body twitching and shuddering as Yennefer slowly breached him. Geralt flicked his tongue against his clit, enjoying the way Jaskier trembled above him.

“Good boy,” Yennefer cooed once she was inside. Jaskier mumbled something incoherent under his breath as Yennefer started fucking into him from behind, while Geralt slid his tongue across the entire length of his pussy.

Geralt moaned as he shoved his face in there, wanting to get as much of his taste and smell as he could. He pointed his tongue and thrusted it inside, fucking Jaskier in the same rhythm as Yennefer worked the strap-on in and out of him.

Jaskier gripped the headboard until his knuckles turned white. His thighs shook with the effort to keep himself up. He threw his head back and sobbed as Geralt moved his tongue inside him in a circular motion, lapping up his arousal. Yennefer gripped his hips as she rocked in and out of him, the head of the toy hitting his prostate on every thrust. Yennefer didn’t take that away, exactly so they could pleasure Jaskier in every way until he practically exploded.

The bed shook as Jaskier desperately undulated on Geralt’s face, unable to decide whether he wanted to fuck himself back on Yennefer’s toy or on Geralt’s tongue. He sobbed and howled as his pleasure rose and rose, his body pulled tight with the need to release.

He let out a long, loud scream as he finally snapped and squirted all over Geralt’s face. Geralt eagerly lapped up the wet heat that smeared over his lips and trickled down his chin. Yennefer gave Jaskier one more thrust before she pulled out of him.

Jaskier was barely conscious as they laid him between them. He drifted off while they cleaned him and each other off. He only opened his eyes again when he was in his lovers’ arms.

“So, was getting a pussy worth it?” Yennefer asked as she caressed his flushed, sweaty face. Jaskier chuckled weakly.

“Look at the state of me for the past few days and decide for yourself.”

Geralt grinned as he kissed his shoulder. “Do you want to keep it?”

Jaskier yawned softly as he burrowed into their warmth.

“I do miss my cock. Wonder where he went. He must be so scared all alone wherever he is. But on a more serious note, I do want it back. But… I can’t say when the mood for this will take me again.”

Yennefer and Geralt exchanged a grin over Jaskier’s head. Now they were both sure that if Jaskier asked Yennefer for this special spell again, they would be more than willing to play along once more.

#geraskefer #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt of rivia #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #my fic #geraskefer fanfiction #geraskefer fic

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aeor-is-for-reccing · 6 months

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Survey Results! Finally!

I’m finally getting to posting the survey results! It’s taken about a month longer than I expected – work got busy and my laptop screen is busted. Also, writing this out took was longer than I expected – ten pages in total. And that’d be a horrible tumblr post. So instead, here’s the main findings and the longform answers, and you can take a look at the google doc here for a more in depth analysis from each question.

Main Findings:

Respondents are about evenly divided as to whether or not they reblog.

People generally kudos and comment!

Nobody knows we have a fic randomizer. (We have a fic randomizer. It’s on the spreadsheet)

Sixty percent of respondents either do or would self rec

The biggest write in answer for why people don’t rec is shyness

The biggest reason for why people don’t read is they don’t remember to go back

Opening up the reclist is contentious, people are generally okay with a script and could use a reminder

What we're doing/did in response:

There’s now a @reclister role on AiFL, request it to get pinged when the rec list goes up or to get reminders as to when to rec

I’m posting what fics have been recced with the 24 hour reminder and the tag list.

I’ve added ‘Less Common Authors’ as a possible theme

I’m going to open up the reccing sheet to everyone – I just have to lock down some stuff first

I’ll update the value filters for the reccing sheet

I’m going to work on a script that updates the basic fields (title, author, word count, rating, ect) for the form. This one might take a bit.

And now , the long form responses, under the cut:

Thanks to everyone who was thankful that I was doing this! We’re just going to be a thanks ouroboros, happily!

The reason I don’t rec every week is that I find writing summaries hard, everything else is easy for me/The summaries aren’t very useful to me:

So, a short guide to writing summaries for recs:

If the author has something that works – you can always copy it. Part of the reason why this isn’t ‘just a copy and paste what they have’ option is that AO3 summaries can take up space, and we don’t want folks to get sad about having to scroll lots. But if the author has a sentence at the bottom of the summary that explains everything, there’s no reason to do more work.

If the author didn’t provide a one sentence summary, then include the basics of the plot. (Essek gets dicked down by Caleb, Essek and Caleb skip through the wildflowers together, aeorian magic turns Caleb into a capybara and Essek into a hot tub filled with oranges, ect). Then add an adjective or two that has something to do with tone. (A hilarious story about Essek being dicked down by Caleb, a tense account of Essek and Caleb skipping through the wildflowers together; Aerian magic turns Caleb into a capybara and Essek into a hot tub full of oranges. It’s surprisingly romantic.) Think about how it made you feel, what genre you would put it in, what tags you’d add on storygraph.

Don’t worry if it’s kind of dry! A) It’s probably less dry than you think, and b) you can do more gushing within the ‘what you liked about it’ section.

One last thing to remember – there’s no one right way to make a summary, people are looking for different things.

If the rec form was opened up to people who aren’t on AIFL don’t you think the name would need to be changed to reflect that it’s not an AIFL thing anymore?

Maybe! I wasn’t planning on not posting it on AiFL, and I’d suspect that the majority of reccers would still be AiFL members (just because getting notifications of something on tumblr is a lot harder). But to be honest, this would be a relatively small issue.

I'm not a huge shadowgast fan, but I think reclists are cool, and sometimes the fics are relevant to my interests

Thanks! Have you heard about the other reclists? There’s @critter-genfic-events for a genfic one that was started by @Professor-Rye and is now being run by @operafloozy, there’s @widomaukficrecs, and I also have the reccing blog tools (group version or single user) in case you want to start your own!

Less a suggestion and more a general thought. I believe the anonymity of the reccers is an important part of this process and I am in no way saying that should be removed, but at the same time, it does feel impersonal, like a lack of commitment to one's tastes. Word of mouth doesn't tend to sway me to read new fic when I don't know the mouths the words are coming from. That said, take this with a grain of salt because, for the time being, I'm not the target audience of the rec lists.

Hey thanks for the comment! I agree with you! There’s a definite trade off in not knowing whether a reccer’s tastes line up with your own. It means that there’s not a great way to add moderation into the rec list, and with anonymity being an ever- dwindling resource on the internet, people’s attitudes towards it have shifted further into suspicion of intent. Even when it’s something like a rec list, I think there can be an anxiety about people finding a way to use it to bully authors – moreso than even having a consistent pseudonym. When really, I think there’s a good reason why reccers might want anonymity. Admitting you like something can be a vulnerable act! Social anxiety was the number one write-in reason as to why people didn’t rec, as is. I want people to feel comfortable reccing fics that are weird or kinky or require a lot of different warnings, and I wanted people to feel comfortable reccing their own fics. And it’s one thing to leave a kudos on someone’s work while signed in – something nobody else is going to see unless they bother to look – and another to put your name saying you enjoy any sort of beastiality or noncon or whatever else where any purity culture lover can object to on tumblr for all to see. The last thing I want is for people to be hurt or harassed because they participated in something that’s supposed to be a net good.

Anyway, this is all saying that I don’t think your concern is unfounded – and while I’m not likely to change anything about this rec list’s anonymity, if anyone else wants to try their hand at running one, it’s something to think about.

Also, I know I tend to read fic the same way, but it does seem to be a ton of repeat authors week-to-week, so maybe if once in a while the list can be to branch out to a never recc’d person?

I really like this idea, but the logistics of it are a little complex. I crunched the numbers, and out of 558 recs, there’s been 175 authors recced. Which is admittedly is a lot of overlap, but also that’s a lot to expect reccers to keep track of. But a top ten list should be doable! I crunched the numbers a couple of different ways – top numbers of times an author was recced, top number of different fics recced by an author, and top number of themes recced, which got me a list of fourteen authors – that seems doable. It’s now a possible theme.

More Information I got from number crunching includes:

86 authors have only been recced once

418 fics have been recced, 324 have only been recced once.

Most recced fics are Hard Mouth at seven times.

Royalgreen has had the most recs at 24, the most fics recced at 18, and the most themes recced at 17, but they also have 51 Critical Role Fics, so.

Further info can be found in this details sheet. I've also added a randomizer for general use, just because.

knowing upcoming themes further in advance

This can be done – it’s how the genfic rec list is currently set up. (as a note, while I’m currently running the genfic rec list, @professor-rye was the one to create it).

The AiFL rec list is currently set up so you can rec fics after the tumblr post, with the idea that people would probably look at the list of recs at the google sheet – which I realize isn’t the way it’s currently used. So you can still rec later, it just doesn’t have the same visibility. (The two exceptions for this are the ‘older recs’ and the ‘hidden gems’ recurring themes, because we know they’re going to recur and they’re not likely to be ineligible when the theme rolls around again, the way works in progress might be).

Logistically, the selecting the upcoming themes in advance doesn’t work as well from the admin side. Instead of remembering that next week is the last Tuesday of the month, I’ve got to remember to count the Tuesdays and order the progress. Right now the way it goes is that we pick the theme from the randomizer right before we post the reclist, so the same theme gets pasted into the ‘next week’s theme’ section, the google form, and the tumblr post at the same time. If I’m choosing a theme a month out, I select next month’s theme, add it to the google form, then go back and check what I’d selected a month ago and post that into the tumblr post and next week’s theme.

There’s also the fact that if we give too much lead time, it means folk procrastinate and forget. Most of the recs currently come in soon after I post the tag list or the 24 reminders as is, and while some people on the gen fic reclist post for multiple weeks at a time, I find that most of the recs are for the week of, anyway.

Anyway, I’m not completely against this, but currently the drawbacks outweigh the perks. Figuring out a different way to sort the upcoming themes for the genfic list is on my to-do list, maybe afterwards I’ll come back and revisit.

#not a rec list

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acreaturecalledgreed · 10 months

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Could you please talk about sto?

I tried to search for him in the tags but maybe they're not working for me and I'd like to know more about the man (🪱 worm🪱)

What does he like to do.... His dreams.... If he has friends...

okay so i had to do some nonsense to type this out b/c its too much to type on the phone but also tumblr desktop is still super fucking borked for me in terms of asks and i dont know why

sto is a member of a sapient alien species of giant ice worms! they are extremely solitary and would be considered violent by most standards though they tend not to view themselves as such. their langue is almost entire compromised of "writing" in the form of how the tunnels they burrow through are made, arranged, textured, and their depth, as well as supplemented by various deep subsonic sounds

they exist in a very stream-of-conciousness sort of way, as they literally "write" as they move; in the strange way, they're sort of constantly narrating their own existence

their planet is largely comprised of ice and water but has large swathes of mineral deposites scatter through- some make islands, some are just deposits on the "seabed" (majority is frozen; water really only happens in certain parts during the hottest part of their planetary cycle)

most of the fauna and flora on the planet have to be extremely hardy, as nuritent sources are not the most prominent (they're there! but its not easy), and the planet only has one or two carnivorous species (of which the worms are one of them)

they are cannibalistic as well as feeding off of other species, but dont need to eat exceptionally often as their bodies have this sort of hyper efficiency thing going on

i also have uuhh plotted out a lot of how their ahem reproductive lives work but we can get into that another time

sto's species is considered EXTREMELY dangerous for any offworld travelors as their very sensitive to sound and movement on the surface of the planet and they do Not turn up a chance at easy prey; they also were not believed to be more than just large animals (sto is so far the first the only evidence that their species is not only sapient, but Extremely intelligent, but most dont know about him)

b/c of how their communication works they have a sort of culture that highly empasizes the individual as an aspect of religion (they sort of consider themselves their own gods?) and an emphasis on the endless pursuit of knowledge, as basically most of what they do is write and think

people still come to this planet, however, as its the only known source of an extremely bizarre, highly radioactive mineral that is highly sought after for ~~weaponry~~ RESEARCH purposes, as it's basically so potent it can rip you apart at the molecular level, while also being strangely easy to manipulate and channel

as a result the planet is sort of infamous as a massive death planet where you either get eaten or freeze to death, and mostly only hired hands go there for samples Or ppl who are weird and want to research that planet Specifically (put a pin in this)

so sto HAS seen humans (and other sapient species from off planet) before, and he's eaten his fair share, but mostly hes just extremely curious about them and spent a lot of time "watching" them (the worms have eyes but their sight is Not Great)

and he like. wow he thinks hands are so cool. hands and arms. its so easy to manipulate things!!! if he wants to do that he has to use his tongues. thats so cool he wants hands.

anyway (fake science babble) over the course of like a century this weird little piss has made a device utilizing aforementioned mineral to blast himself apart at a molecular level and reconstruct it as he has pre-programmed it to- resulting in him being able to be _shaped_ into a humanoid form (this is important- he does not know how humans Work inside. he had to guess a lot of things and he largely only managed to look kind of human on a surface level; his bone structure is almost entiely guesswork b/c he knows humans have SOMETHING inside them because they are crunchy, etc. he's mostly worm once you get past the skin. even the skin isnt quite right, because he had not Yet learned what human skin even feels like. he just defaulted to a sort of velvet-soft flesh not unlike what the worms have on spots where theyre not as heavily furred)

eventually he encounters a merc ship and the ppl on board are like "hey what the shitting fucking hell is that thats a guy but thats not a guy what the Fuck"

he can't talk, he doesnt emote, he seems to barely be able to walk, to them he's like a newborn, almost

this is where his "present" story begins to kick off- because on board this ship is a xenobiologist who has gotten free access onboard in exchange for functioning as a ship medic

this is delilah. she is a devout bapist from whatever deep south america there still is on future earth. she loves xenobiology. she ESPECIALLY loves "efficient" xeno-animals. shes here because she Fucking Loves These Worms. These Worms Are Her Favourite. shes also completely fucking insane. whatever you are picturing she looks like you are probably wrong.

shes like hey. that weird guy might die out there hes like. naked. even if hes a ken doll. and theyre like yeah youre right. its cold. theres worms. why is he even fucking here what is going on.

so they drag him on board and internally he's like ": }"

anyway with a lot of poking prodding and meet-cute delilah eventually comes to a Realization of what this dude is even if she doesnt get How this dude is and she promptly loses her whole fucking brain because this is the bestest and coolest thing that has ever happened to her

this is also the most terrifying thing that has ever happened to her shipmates, because theres a fucking death worm on the ship and they left planet side hours ago

so (hand waves a lot of deal making deliberation discussion) evnetually sto is just sort of adopted as a member of the crew, more or less, even if most of the crew is Very Uncomfortable

he and delilah get slowly better at communicating, because they are both very smart and both trying Extremely hard to meet eachother halfway

eventually they become and item and its cute and horrifying and bizarre and delilah gets to fuck her special interest its Amazing and sto has barely any understanding of a _partner_ but he _has_ had brief mates before and he understands that humans tend to stay with their mates and also not mutilate or attempt to eat their mates and he is a Very Good At Human Good Boy and he will Not hurt delilah he loves her very much in his little worm hearts (not that delilah would mind getting murdered by her worm boyfriend, she is, in fact, bonkers)

"sto" is called "sto" b/c thats what the crew started calling him. depending on who you ask its short for either "stoic" or "stowaway"

sto is a "man" because delilah roughly explained the cocnept of gender to him and he was like "oh okay That One" but he doesnt really give a shit about pronouns, he barely understnads what pronouns are

he is delilah's boyfriend/research assistant/research subject and totgethor Adventures happen idk

his humanoid appearance i have not yet made decent art of but you can get an idea by knowing that hes White (like, literally stark white. like snow. not like white as in how some humans are white) and aesthetically largely based on the anime mad scientist trope bc i love it

see also this post

#sto #sto the worm #oc talk

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jackiebrackettt · 1 year

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okay so a little lore dump thing for my bitb lab au ^_^ I want to mention that this Will include spoilers (and so i’m putting it under a cut) but please note that I have no current plans to write this fic out more than what you’ve already seen - certainly not to the level where it’s a coherent story at all

however! i am kinda encouraging ppl to write their own versions of it if they want. and if anyone Does do that -> how much they stick with this bit of lore/backstory is up to them

(Tagging @alkalineleak , @kasperconvergence and @transatos bc u guys seemed interested in hearing more :] also! rbs appreciated)

anyway onto the lore:

personally I didn’t want to go too in-depth with an unethical/morally ambiguous lab but there’s elements of that that can be built on. in this au I imagine they’re not all from Galloway bc I think it’s more interesting if Rand Kian and Rolan didn’t know each other beforehand - which feels impossible if they’re all in Galloway

Kian and Becky are exes and this was known by the lab - in fact, they were explicitly seeking out interns who knew either Becky or Rolan. kian’s music career was failing like with canon and someone approached him with the job offer and he took it. the timeline on this is a lil iffy but whateva. kian didn’t know becky was one of the bug monsters until he read the brief and signed the contracts etc etc

the idea here is that the scientists are trying to figure out if previous attachment to a person carries over to the bug-ified version

becky and rolan both turned themselves in to the lab and are there of their own volition. rolan is less there for studying/to help humans and more there bc he doesn’t trust himself and is freaking out. this is why kian says that rolan is safer than becky - as much as becky didn’t want to hurt kian, she wasn’t afraid that she would until it was too late

kian is there because the forms he signed essentially worked as a “i consent to being quarantined if something goes wrong” rand has also signed these. it was Very obvious and they weren’t trying to trick them. kian is mostly just pretending that he’s doing okay and that this is just a bit inconvenient/boring -> he’s pretty freaked out to understate it

relationship-wise: kian had a bit of a relationship with both becky and rolan. both of them very much knew about the other etc etc hashtag poly win! i say “a bit of” bc it was kinda cautious/early stages for both. rolan was starting to open himself up to the idea that he’s not inherently dangerous and then the thing with Becky happened so now he’s back to square 1

now! for the major spoilery bit:

i mentioned earlier that the scientists are specifically looking for interns with connections to the bugs and also that Rand doesn’t have any connection with them. this is bc there is actually a fourth bug monster that they are keeping in the lab and this is the Queen Aka Rachel

once rand gets settled into things they’d probably introduce him to Rachel and then I imagine all hell would break loose - I never really thought too much about plot which is why I’m kinda happy to move on from this idea (also I really don’t need another longfic on my plate o(-( man..) the queen is separated from the other bugs to try and minimise her control over them. i’m also kinda thinking that maybe becky came to the lab specifically to try and get close to the Queen to help her and then kian showed up and things got complicated

real quick: relationship endgame I imagine is nbr+becky dating kian

anyway yeah ^_^ that’s everything I have -> lmk if you have any questions or if ur thinking about taking over this concept from me :]

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nightmarecountry · 13 days

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GET TO KNOW THE MUN MEME.

NAME: currently we mostly go by Wilds on here, though I (the host) am uh... between names, ha. went through some shit this year that i'm pretty sure triggered a host change/a new host split SO.

PRONOUNS: they/them collectively. it/its too if we're friends i think. it's complicated. host also uses she/her and (rarely, these days) he/him but again... complicated...

MOST ACTIVE MUSES: i mean. the corinthian, obviously, but which Flavour of him i want to write really depends on the day... over on my multimuse it varies WILDLY and often just depends on if there's a particular plot point or theme i'm rotating in my head a bunch.

RP PET PEEVES: look if i get into that here someone's gonna snipe me from the rooftops or something for having an honest feeling in public. i don't like lack of communication (or the passive aggression that comes with it), people feeling entitled to my time/attention/replies, or anyone making me feel obligated to do anything ever tbh.

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS: i've been RPing for like uhhh... 17-18 years at this point. jesus.

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT: definitely angst. i like reading smut more than writing it (mostly because writing it gets stressful real fast), and i love fluff but it's gotta have substance to it. i feel like the secret fourth answer here is "depth".

PLOTS OR MEMES: hmm... it's sort of both. i honestly like ic asks most of all: not memes, but not threads either. i like having a sort of 'foundation' to work off of and going back and forth with it, but i can only really plot extensively with someone when i've gotten to know them well. i LOVE memes but i tend to need a lot of them because if you only send one there's a solid 80% chance i won't have an answer in mind KJNSDJKNSDF

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: medium i guess! i need to get comfortable doing short as hell replies again but i always worry people will take it as a lack of interest. i don't tend to do suuuper long replies because i have trouble remembering everything i've written lmfao

IDEAL TIME TO WRITE: somehow, 3-4am. i am rarely AWAKE during those hours right now but it's still just peak writing hours for me, probably due to lack of distractions.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: baby i'm not even like myself. but in all seriousness, i feel like as a writer you're always gonna be putting bits and pieces of yourself into your characters - particularly for RP which is a much more uh, 'close contact' form of writing, i feel? i can separate myself very well from my characters when writing fic or other stories, but RP i feel requires you to step into their shoes a lot more often and more consistently... so yknow. anyway man i have DID you'd better believe there are pieces of lots of us in all of our characters. good luck guessing where they are (it isn't hard).

tagged by: @peacereflected but i also stole it from @ohsunshine because i'm in love with them both. hope this helps.

tagging: you. but also @spacereflected and @talentforlying and [spins a wheel] @pohlepen

#( ooc. )

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usagiverse · 5 months

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USAGI-VERSE MASTERPOST

Will be updated over time. Feel free to support me on Ko-fi !

READ USAGI-VERSE HERE ! Episode 一 : Litter Of Rabbits [ 1... ] [ 2... ] [ 3... ] [ 4... ] ......TBD......

Do not use any of my artwork or comics without permission. This includes using my work for profiles, translations, reposting on other sites, coloring pages, selling for profit, or claiming my work as your own.

Q & A: 1. What do you use? I use Medibang Paint for drawing all of my pages and artwork on a Wacom Mobilestudio Pro. 2. When do you update? I don't have a schedule, and I don't intend to set one. I'm a freelance artist, this is a personal project, and I'm a full time student. I will update and post when I have time but do not expect any level of consistency. The more you ask, the less I'll want to. 3. What is this? This entire blog is a bunch of what-if's surrounding familiar characters from Usagi Yojimbo, Usagi Chronicles, and Rise of the TMNT. The main storyline from start to finish is about all Usagi characters, their backstory, and any other relevant plot points during the time of Rise, and after the movie. Basically, I took "What If Usagi In Rise?" to 4 more levels. (I'm Fine) 4. CW's | TW's ? I don't really know how to do this sort of thing, uh..... There may be blood, violence, swearing, romance, and death. As far as I know. I intend to keep this as SFW as possible, with some dark undertones. No abuse, gore, weird pairings, or nudity here!

NAVIGATION: #usagi-verse | Main tag for the comics #uv | Anything Usagi-Verse related outside the comics #uv asks | All questions asked & answered so far (feel free to send me more asks, just check the guide first!) #uv art | Art tag! (Will be mostly finished artwork, not including asks otherwise my entire blog including the comics would be listed here) #uv guides | Everything you need to help get around this blog or learn more about UV as a whole #references | Colored references of characters appearing on this blog #relationships | In depth mentions of character relationships that may not be covered in the story itself #yuichi usagi #shuji usagi #mizuki usagi #miyamoto usagi | All media containing the character you are looking for, including what's in the comics! #yuichi #shuji #mizuki #miyamoto | Media containing the character you are looking for EXCEPT for what's in the comics (to keep you spoiler-free, in case you needed it? or to have better reference of the character without having to read about them.. idk) #bunnon | All Bunnonymous Asks #bunnon usagi | Bunnon Is An Usagi (artwork of Bunnon) #ft turtlesona | This is my turtlesona, who shows up in posts sometimes! They are selectively mute and only choose to communicate in noises. #uv s/o | Shoutout tag for all the awesome creators out there ! If you're looking for more people to follow, check this tag #not uv #uv au | Any other art, post, or whatever that does not have any relation to UV in terms of being canon-- this may include other characters, alternate AUs, random doodles, or fanon / fan headcanon interactions! #fan arts | For all art done by others of UV, be sure to support them as well! #bunbuns | Usagis but in their true form.. cute little bunbuns #insert nerd emoji | I talk in depth about stuff sometimes... (Deeper explanations on the work, characters, comics etc. or in-depth asks)

Thanks for reading, and have fun in Usagi-Verse!

#uv guides #usagi chronicles #usagi yojimbo #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #uv

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pool-floatie · 2 months

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I feel the need to share my g/t experience with erryone since its been on my mind for a while and I find it interesting how early on It showed up.

Ever since I was a little kid, probably 5-7 years old, I had little daydreams occasionally about giants taking me to their houses or a park or wherever and they would tease me and have fun with me, I was always scared of course because apparently ive always liked this fearplay bullshit, but i still found it exhillirating and fun. Of course it wasnt romantic or anything until I got older, just,,, like a really tall roller coaster, scary but exciting.

When I started reading, i found one of the borrowers books, i think my mom actually got it for me (maybe i had mentioned the daydreams??) ! I think it was The littles and The Biggs families, but yeah. I loved it and i tried to find more but they werent at my school library 😭 so Iworked with what I had, a book and a dream. (lol cringe-)

While i was in 4th- 6th grade I had kind of repressed it, I still thought about it on occasion but i started to realise that nobody else had that interest and it was just a wierd thing with me... Until I watched the BFG (cliche right 🙄) it was when the movie came out and people were talking about it! For a while it held the title of my favorite movie just so I could talk about it when people asked that particular icebreaker.

One night in like... 7th grade I had a dream that i was at church (lol cringefail imagine being religious...) and I picked up a piece of paper inviting people to come test out an experiment... Then i saw a flash And somewhere from the depths of my memories, my brain pulled out one of my old daydream scenarios.

I was in a laboratory with several other humans and we were all in a big glass box. Surrounding us were giants who took us out of the container and gave us baths, undressing us and scrubbing us down with toothbrushes so we would be clean for the examination.

I was taken away to a desk and meticulously examined from head to toe, the giant tried to probe me with questions but I was too shocked to speak.

Thats all I can remember but I was so fascinated by the dream that I started telling my family about it, now of course nobody wanted to hear me talk about my dream for 20 minutes, so my mom encouraged me to write it down.

And oh hell did I write.

My first long form writing stemmed from a dream I had, i wrote for months, of course, I was 13 do it was flaming garbage but I was so happy about it and thought it was a masterpiece.

So naturally as anyone would, I emailed it to my english teacher.

She never responded.

I wonder why.

To this day I pray that she never opened it, her emails being too cluttered with important school things that it got lost and never crossed her eyes.

But still, it was through this little writing that I began to realise my potential (lol cringe origin story-)

I still have the draft of the story, its plot and characters were a good foundation, and perhaps one day i will look it over, change a few things, get cancer and die.

During quarantine I discovered Sanders Sides, which led me down a fanfiction rabbit hole, which led me to tumblr, which led me to a creator called delimeful , not sure if they want to be tagged in this so I wont... They wrote some marvelous G/t Sanders sides fanfic and i soon realised... This is a community, it wasnt just them.. There was, so /much/ so many artists and writers that shared this niche interest, a community of people who g e t i t .

It started slow, I continued interacting with the tumblr community ( hell, the husk of my old blog might still roam this site (|||O⌓O;) )

Only ever looking for safe, wholesome g/t.

But where was the stomach-dropping exhilliration I had felt before, that rollercoaster feeling? What was missing??

I needed the fearplay, and in looking for it i stumbled into vore and that dynamic, playing with pred/prey and even more teasing. I was hesitant at first.

But lo and behold that was the gawd damn ticket. I started to write again, finding new stories and creators and tropes galore! I learned about the community, the terms and the subgenres!

Finally I gained confidence in my writing ability through a class that helped me grow my skills and practice.

And I eventually decided i could share all my hard work. All this time I had spent worrying if i should just keep it to myself, but i reminded myself of all the non beta read and unfinished work i had seen, and looking back at my own I was less afraid, people still liked it even then... So what could they say about mine ?

There ya go, thats my,, I guess life story told through the g/t Timeline.

Hopefully I was vague enough to not give away any behind the scenes, yall will never know who I am 😈😈😈

Also im not trying to bash any creators, I appreciate everyone who contributes to the community with anything they have.

#g/t #giant/tiny #giant #tiny #g/t backstory #micro/macro

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lollytea · 2 years

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hi omg i just wanted to say i read sunshine in your smile the other night and thought it was amazing! your characterization takes such an in depth look at what drives each character and i just loved how much attention you paid to small details like those, especially with the big argument in chapter 5. your interpretation of hunter and willow has honestly been some of the best/my favorite from all the toh fics ive read, and it just has such a unique quality to it that im still thinking about days later. plus, how the huntlow was sort of evident and there the entire time, the story itself focused a bit more on them caring for and learning about each other as both friends and people without needing to lean on the romance to carry the plot? it was SO good and well handled UGHHH because your tags were right!!! two kids who see themselves in each other and form a strong emotional connection.. its such a good premise it was such a good study. sry this is long haha just wanted to say i read ur fic and loved it, youre a really good writer and i hope to see more from you in the future!! have a nice night :~)

AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! This means SO MUCH to me, you don't understand!!! Thank you thank you thank you!! Thank you for feeling like you should tell me this cuz it makes my day so much better!! I WILL cry, I will do it, I'll do it right now

And I'm so so SO happy that you enjoyed the emphasis on their relationship outside of the romantic element because that was really what the fic was all about. It was a direct response to all the people saying huntlow would "ruin" Hunter's character and it was just some hollow "painfully hetero" ship that existed for the sake of cliche shipping. I was trying to show the potential of just what it could actually be. Something that pays respect to both Hunter and Willow as people, as well as being a love letter to both of their characters. And how those personalities really catch fire when they have each other to bounce off of.

Like he had a crush on her from the first chapter but it wasn't supposed to make you think "oh yes he is in love with her. He is her soulmate. They are meant to be together." It was supposed to make you think "Aww this dummy got a crush on a girl after knowing her for a literal day for simple silly reasons because he is sixteen and sixteen year olds are just Like That sometimes." Their mutual crushes are supposed to demonstrate how despite Willow's wisdom and maturity and Hunter's militant personality they're both still kids and are fully capable of being childish and impulsive, without mocking either them for feeling that way. Like at this stage they really don't know each other well at all. But they would really like to.

The crushes clearly grow as the fic goes on as they become more familiar and now the infatuation actually has a stronger foundation. But in the end, it's still shown to be a sweet innocent juvenile thing, not like straight up burning true love or whatever. Willow doesn't give him a flower that means undying devotion or everlasting love or anything like that. It is simple as "I think happiness suits you. Your smile is very pretty." Meanwhile the bond they begin to develop as friends and mirror images of each other is the main character study at play here. It is not so easily slotted into a box of romantic or platonic, its just this indescribable kind of thing. The fic doesn't end with a kiss or a sudden realization of feelings, but rather with them having formed this connection, gaining some perspective of each other and themselves. And sometimes, depending on how the story as a whole is handled, an ending like that can be satisfying enough.

I had a post in my drafts about it but I never posted it cuz I felt I was getting annoying constantly talking about my own fic. But here's some tags on it where I ramble about the angle I was trying to take with it.

#huntlow #this is one of the best asks i have gotten in my entire life #thank you so much for GETTING IT #getting what i was going for

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romirola · 2 years

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Five Things You Never Get Tired of Writing

Tagged by @dominimoonbeam and @teasandcardigans. Thanks, friends!

Hurt/Comfort- This cannot possibly be a surprise to anyone who has read my fics. Hurt/Comfort abounds in many of them. It is one of my favorite things to write and to read. I like hurt/comfort because it’s a versatile genre (SO many ways to hurt characters! and SO many ways to comfort them!) that gets at the heart of the characters. It poses a variety of opportunities to raise the stakes and to push characters into needing to act on the parts of themselves that might otherwise stay hidden.

Reconciliation- No matter how I tear apart of group of characters or cause a character some deep, internal conflict, what I really enjoy is finding out how characters come to reconcile. Whether that means in whatever form best fits the story. Maybe characters who had a misunderstanding find a way to talk about what happened or have since realized how they misinterpreted each other. Maybe a couple has realized they share romantic feels for each other. Maybe a character learns to accept their past mistakes but try better in the future. Whatever it may be, I enjoy having the opportunity to depict positive growth for characters.

Characters Fallings Asleep With/On Each Other- Look, I’ve always felt there’s just something intensely intimate, vulnerable, and loving about characters falling asleep on/with each other and it shows. While sometimes this occurs in sexy scenes/or smutty stories, there’s no reason that says it MUST be charged with sexuality. I’m down to see character bond and let down their guards with each other in all the ways. I feel like the act of falling asleep with/on each other is a great way to measure that level of deep trust. Not to mention, it creates a wonderful occasion for the possibility of nightmare comfort, which is something else I very much enjoy...

(Self-)Discovery- The idea of characters learning unexpected or surprising about each other or themselves always makes for fun stories. Whether it’s a cool secret talent that just so happens to be important to the later plot development, something that totally seems to grate against a character’s whole being but is whimsically irrelevant, something shocking and tragic for others to learn about the friend/lover/enemy they thought they knew well, or a character realizing they’ve got something within themselves they never realized existed, it means that there is some cool drama in store.

Taking Care of the Canonical Caretakers- Finding the chance to let a character who never relaxes finally relax, or a character who always guards their emotions let those emotions show, or letting a character who always is the helper be helped with something never fails to move me profoundly. It’s a wonderful way to add complexity/depth/humanity to characters who seem like their only function is to be there for others. Bonus points if the character themselves has gotten into the mindset that their value is based solely on whatever they provide and needs to be reminded that their loved one(s) care about and value them as a person through this little, temporary, but necessary inversion of care-dynamics.

Tagging anyone who wants to do this (writing or art!), including @slushrottweiler, @angel-bubbles, @sealriously-sealrious, @delllonggone, @glassbearclock, @frenchiefitzhere, @starlitangels, and @weightedblanketjoyfriend!

#thank you!

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blenderfullasarcasm · 1 year

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TEN LINE TAG GAME

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

thanks for tagging me @marshmallowgoop !

in no particular order:

1. Conan knocked on the door of the Shumaker's house, staunchly ignoring the way that Hakuba-slash-KID’s gaze was boring into him like Conan was a top-of-the-line safe door and there was a 1412-karat jewel KID was trying to steal on the other side. [newest unposted chapter of too many questions in my head, in which Conan wakes up in 221B Baker Street with no idea how he got there.]

2. It’s really weird, seeing someone else wearing your face. [imposter syndrome, a timkon-slash-tim&kon bodyswap oneshot]

3. Jack Callahan doesn't know what he's expecting when he stumbles down the stairs of the rickety old townhouse the realtor has called "historic and charmingly rustic" and his husband had called "pretty run down and definitely a fixer-upper, but if you like it, Jack..." to answer the knocking at his door at two o'clock in the morning, but it certainly isn't Martha Kent, the veterinarian who lives on the outskirts of town and mostly keeps to herself, clutching a small bundle of cloth to her chest. [hematyke, a oneshot about Kryptonian biology featuring baby Clark and his dietary needs]

4. "This isn't going to work," Ran says plainly, setting a file filled with neatly stapled sheafs of paper on the table between them. [funny how the tables turn, a shinran oneshot I wrote for divorceweek. can i call it shinran if it's established relationship but they’re getting divorced?]

5. It was, in fact, an idea; Kaito would give him that much. [newest unpublished chapter of i see murder victims, in which Kaito can see ghosts now, unfortunately.]

6. Tim glanced from the now locked door to the cereal bar in front of him and then back again. [newest unpublished chapter of stuck on rewind, in which post titans tower Tim gets shrunk/deaged and now looks like hes five]

7. As much as Bruce hates to admit it, it's impossible to be prepared for everything. [superbat wip that may never see the light of day (pwp except now there's way more plot than i was expecting)]

8. You can't stop thinking about Superboy and how sad he'd looked. [newest unpublished chapter of can't help but to hear, in which a goon pranking the batmobile is the a-plot, robin going missing is the b-plot, and the c-plot will be revealed next chapter]

9. There is a boy in the Batcave, and Batman does not know how he got in. [untitled sequel to ‘til the end of the night (i’m holding out for a hero), the lonely place of dying rewrite where Tim is a ghost]

10. One thing that people don’t seem to understand about Jon is that he spent most of his formative years trapped in a volcano. [untitled oneshot trying to give some depth to Jon's characterization in Superman: Son of Kal-El]

tagging @summerbummin @yin1se4 @animikachu @beedok @kuroko99 @cherry-j4m @joisbishmyoga and anyone else who wants to do it!

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lazalmas · 10 months

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For we have made an end of all things

- Title from Siegfried Sassoon’s poem “To my Brother”

Tags: Angst , Angst no Comfort , Gen , Explosions , Blood Loss , Concussions , Confession , Character Death

Character Tags: John “Soap” MacTavish , Simon “Ghost” Riley , John “Soap” MacTavish & Simon “Ghost” Riley

Plot Summary: A mission goes wrong, and Soap finds himself paying the price.

Word Count: 2360

Author notes: I haven’t written angst before, nor have I posted fic to tumblr. i’ll post this to ao3 once it’s running again. in the meantime, hope you enjoy feeling sad.

(“To my brother”, by Siegfried Sassoon, was originally titled “Brothers”. His younger brother had been buried at sea, after being mortally wounded. He was twenty-eight.)

Ghost was shaking him.

“Solid, sergeant?” He asked, and Soap twitched. John MacTavish had seen a lot of things in his career, but nothing could prepare a man for this.

“Solid.” The voice that came out was furled in his mouth, soft at the edges. Quieter.

The team they'd been sent to extract had perished.

“Look at me in the eyes, Soap. Are you equipped for this?” There was a sense of untethered frenzy to Ghost’s voice. It urged him to obey, mouth beginning to form a repeated affirm when Ghost interrupted him, grappling his head to stare at him deep. “Johnny.”

One of Ghost’s pupils bled into the dark brown of his iris. A past head trauma, barely noticeable in the dark. Both eyes searched him, impossibly black, flicking over his face and twitching arms. He must have found an answer somewhere in Soap’s frame, because he waited.

“Yes, L.T.” He said, because what else was there to say? He’d follow Ghost anywhere.

Ghost was off him immediately, stance square and low and moving. Speaking lowly to Price over comms, informing him of what they could see as he kept scanning the area. Soap’s body caught up, now, and he was at his six, gun slung over him back in practised hands.

They cleared the rest of the room, no longer needing to take refuge behind the large cart near the threshold.

“I’ll check those back rooms, Makarov may have left a surprise for us.” Ghost finally turned back, tense but limber. Soap nodded. “Do not go near those bodies until I get back.” Melting into the darkness, he left as his callsign would suggest. No surprise they still had to be on edge. The number of tripwire bombs they’d had to disarm just to get down here was concerning. Then there was the complex bit of wires Soap had been tasked to defuse just to get through the main door. The enemy may have left in a hurry, but they had known others were hot on their tail. Intel was sparse, they’d only connected this base to Makarov by luck (and misfortune, for the team who were closest to respond. Immediately out of their depth, the 141 had been issued, but these things took time. Precious time. Even the smallest number of hours, minutes, seconds. Even now, with Price and Gaz caught up with securing the sister-compound that had been discovered.)

There was a sound.

Soap wasn’t afraid of the dark. His senses meshed well enough together from time in active service that it meant little if he couldn’t see what foe lurked within darkened spaces. No, but sounds.

Sounds meant something was waiting for him. Not someone, rarely did that evenly paced, familiar sort of susurration belie anything breathing. A remote bomb, however?

The ticking was speeding up.

“Brace yourself, L.T..” He whispered into his mic. Crossing the room, searching for where the sound grew louder, he grimaced. “Or don’t. If I don’t find out where this sound is coming from, it won’t be our problem anymore, anyway.” Speaking helped his movement, emboldened him with its familiarity. The ease in which he shone his hand torch was welcome. Just another day at the office.

“Must’ve missed one of those wires,” Ghost replied easily. The place must truly be empty. “Getting worse in your old age?”

“I’m only twenty-eight.” He complained goodnaturedly. “Though I wish someone would tell my hairline that. Dread to think how much grey is in your hair, sir.”

“No mirror wants to show me.” Soap huffed a laugh, at that. “Area’s clear, returning point.”

“Any more task members?”

“…One.” Ghost’s voice told him the answer to his next question. He still had to ask.

“Alive?”

“Negative.”

It was part of the job.

Ghost detached himself from the shadows, footfall wet. Soap saw the blood on his hands, kept looking for that pesky sound. Must’ve been a right mess, finding that last soldier. Being kept alone when your allies had all been captured is never a good sign. Soap knew not to ask. He only regretted lost time.

“Ah! There you are, gallus bastard-“ Soap said, finally catching a glint of wire with his torch. Following it along, it led under one of the deceased’s foot through a table.

“Good time to search those bodies, then, sir?” Just another day at the office. Ghost nodded at him, barely, and Soap was glad he’d foregone eating on the plane.

“Must’ve been triggered by fading rigour mortis. Either they knew we’d come, or there’s evidence here we need. On me.” Ghost was a hulking beast of a man. Soap was always still a little impressed that he moved so swiftly, without a trace. Some part of him he hadn’t quite smothered yet, gushed.

“Aye.” He said neutrally, and they got to work checking each body for traps before descending on the one that was attached to the wire. The soldier’s limb had been extended unnaturally, tied so tight the skin at her ankle had gone purple. When it had sagged, well. It had all been put into action. “Jesus.” She was the only one unmasked. Soap closed her eyes to the world, the state of her broken body, her teammates.

Ghost was doing a strange sort of thing with his breathing. “L.T.? You, erm…” Soap trailed off. There were more wires and c4 packaged near the wall behind a facade, clunky and pre-made. Put there and plugged together, not built from scratch, which made it intimidating to the untrained but easy work for Soap. Some mental calculation was needed but it was very light work.

“I’ll let you focus.” His voice was gruff. More distant than before, edging away.

“Now that we’ve found it, it’ll be fine. You okay?” It was hard to talk over his shoulder while balancing the soldier’s leg, and it was twisted work trying not to jostle her body until he knew he could cut the twine keeping her there.

“Affirmative.” Was the blank reply.

“Sir-“

“Less talking, sergeant. Defuse that shit and let’s regroup. No signs of what we need here, just a sick assortment of human traps.” Orders were orders.

He hesitates, just once. He’d started to cut through the wires, slowly, noting any change to the power source or oxidiser. Soap was so sure he had identified all five parts of the pentagram, knew it like the back of his hand, and had paused very, very carefully.

That’s all he did, and yet…

There’s a large boom. Not that he’d know. There’s a blink between him noticing the flashing red light go static, and being woken up cast out from the table and half pressed into the floor. When he opens his eyes fully, the room is mangled. Half cast in concrete. If it were dimly lit before, it’s fucking witching hour, now. The ceiling is scattered around him and ash floats in the air.

Soap’s hand is busted. That’s the next thing he sees. He’d been going to check his gun, and came short. There’s a chunk missing from his arm, and the finger joints are uncooperative but connected, thank fuck.

Never an easy time of it.

“Ghost,” he coughs. There’s something in his neck. He doesn’t need to look down to know there’s glass shards stuck in it. He can feel it moving when he shouts, “Come in, Ghost.” Nothing. Soap swaps to the shared line without preamble. “Trap explosion, I’m alive. Just waiting on Ghost.” Every word stings him.

The line is silent. Not even a crackle. Must be broken, shit, shit, fuck-

“Soap.” Distant, weak but unmistakably cheery as a morgue. Ghost’s voice.

Oh no.

“That you under this concrete, L.T.?” Soap could kiss him. That’d have to wait, clearly, but he was so glad to not be completely isolated under this mess.

“No.” He replied flatly. “Yes, it’s me. What happened?”

“I- I dinnae ken what happened, must’ve been more complex than I realised, or-“ Ghost started talking, and Soap shut up.

“It’s not like you to make mistakes. I don’t think you’ve made any today, Johnny. This was intentional, the enemy is too smart for this to just be blamed on sloppy work.” His calm voice was soothing in the best way, letting Soap step back into himself. “They knew we’d try defusing it. It must’ve been a failsafe.” Beat. “It’s okay, Soap. You couldn’t have known.”

“Your comms still work?” Soap tried to keep his tone even.

“…Price?” Deathly silence followed.

“That’d be a no, then.”

“This isn’t going to be easy. Anything weighing you down?”

“I can move, the c4 I could see this side of the wall was cut away. How’s it looking for you?” Please be on the other side of this giant mass of stone and not actually under it, please, fuck.

“Not good. There’s concrete on my leg. Hurts like a bitch, it’s crushed. If it’s still there.”

The panic was threatening to start cloying his senses, and Soap could hear the pain in Ghost’s voice. Helplessly, he cleared his throat.

“You’re on the erm, large side, so-“

“Get to the point, sergeant.” People don’t appreciate subtleties anymore.

“I can see a gap. It didn’t crush you completely.” He finished.

“So-“

“I bet we can lift it.”

“How bad did it hit you, Soap? Can you stand? You were right in front of it.” Ghost sounded contemplative, and Soap tried to shrug. The glass made him regret it immediately, but he could do it! Nerve damage eludes him yet again!

“Few shrapnel wounds and burns, but the blast was clearly targeting the internal infrastructure. I wouldn’t be here otherwise, obviously.” Thank the stars for that. “I can't stand with nothing to stand on, though. The floor’s decimated. I can crawl if it comes to it, but I’m right next to you.” He’s not sure how well this will work, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

“Okay. Let’s hope there’s enough air down here until Price and Gaz realise we haven’t checked in. In the meantime, let’s get this off me.” Soap hadn’t thought of that. They were underground anyway, fuck, getting excavated wasn’t on his expected plans for today.

He’s glad they’d agreed on short, frequent updates between them. It wouldn’t take long, but the time between that and getting manpower over to them was anyone’s guess. Their poor predecessors in pieces around the site didn’t fill him with high hopes. But Price was a stubborn little shit when he wanted to be, and Laswell wasn’t much better. It was terrible to say, but they were simply better connected, and valued higher for it.

Clambering around one of those predecessors to get firmly planted knees at the concrete made him sick, but it was all he could do. Focus on the living, John. Ghost needed him.

“On three?” He called to his CO.

“Two.” Came the response.

It must’ve been agony for his leg. It was agony on Soap’s arms to lift, but slowly, inch by inch, they got it up and Soap heard the hissing breath as well as dull dragging of Ghost’s tactical gear before he exhausted himself and the beam came crashing back down. “I’m out.” Ghost told him. “Knee’s fucked, but I’ll live.”

“Signs of concussion?”

“Negative. Apart from perhaps the worst headache I’ve ever had. Didn’t black out when the shit hit the fan, but barely.”

“Great. My vision’s double, had a bit of kip when it happened but nothing else as of yet.”

“Keep an eye on that, Soap. Stay awake.”

“Yes, sir.” His voice didn’t sound very good. Hazy.

“Don’t fall asleep on me until we get seen to, that’s an order.”

Shaking his head made everything spin. He vowed not to do that again. “Anything to say, best do it now and keep going.”

“There’s glass in my neck.” He muttered.

“What?”

“Might not make it to exfil, Ghost.” Soap said, loud as he could. Moving that much weight really took it out of him. There was so much blood.

There’s a certain point, he’s realised, where the human body notices just how wrong it is to see the internal, external. It ignites a dumb sort of fascination in him. His blood was so red, dark and coppery, and most importantly, not stopping. There’d been the most pitiful attempt at scabbing over, earlier, but exertion had burst the wound back open.

“Johnny.” There was that warning tone. Usually Ghost used it when he was too busy for Soap’s nonsense, or his dialect had made him unintelligible. Soap had spoken clearly this time, but he repeated himself anyway.

“Tore a few things. Losing blood fast.”

“Tourniquet not helping?”

“Rather not hang myself, L.T.”

“Shit.” Shit indeed. Soap wanted to laugh.

“Didnae think this’d be how I went. Thought it’d be explosion related, sure, but someone else’s? And so poor a make-up, too. This was manufactured, Ghost, only altered to fit the job on site. If only I’d had time to see.” He sounded insulted. He was. This should’ve been a simple job. But life was like that.

“Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that.” Ghost was angry. It didn’t seem to matter.

“That’s unlike you, eh Ghost? Thought you’d been immovable as always. Listen. I ken I’m sounding defeated, but that’s just how it is, y’know? I’m glad I got you out.” He’s sagging against the stone, now. Spitting blood between words, he hopes he isn’t too hoarse to be heard.

“Johnny-“

“You were like a brother to me.” He cut him off. “I know we don’t talk about it,” A large glob of red catches in his throat, and he’s not strong enough to get it out. His ribs are screaming at him, lungs despairing at the liquid forced to share its airspace. “I’m sorry.” This, he knows, isn’t loud enough to carry through. Ghost is saying something, barking it loud, but he’d never been the best listener. It might be swearing. It might be pleading.

At least there’ll be more oxygen to keep Ghost until he’s found. That’s a nice thought.

#cod mwii #fanfiction #angst #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #character death #angst no comfort #explosions #confession #blood loss #author has played call of duty #canon divergence

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moonstrider9904 · 2 years

Text

Chapter 5 - Cave of Pools and Diamonds, Part 2

Chapter Summary: Sarah and Crosshair tread through the cave system with more confidence, and Sarah even picks up valuable items on the way. But another close brush with death will make feelings be manifested, perhaps by more people than just the couple.

Word count: 7.4k (it's long but so worth it i promise)

Warnings/tags: descriptions of mild injury (no gore) and poisoning, language, bit of angst, pining, hints of soft!Crosshair cuz I love him, medical procedures (injection w/ syringe), giant insect.

A/N: While writing this, I listened to City of Tears from the Hollow Knight soundtrack on repeat. It fit the mood :3 Hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading!! Also, enjoy the smiles in this chapter, because after this chapter we'll be hopping into TBB season 1's plot ;)

Series Masterlist | Previous chapter | Next chapter | AO3 link | Wattpad link

Another a/n: I'm so sorry if someone asked to be tagged, it's been a long week and I forgot who it was so please reply or dm me if you want to be tagged for this series :3

The events of the night before they continued their voyage through the caves seemed to solidify their bond. There was silence, but it no longer felt tense. Words could have been spoken to express how they both felt, but it wasn’t strictly necessary for them to be heart. Both of them more confident in what they were doing, Sarah And Crosshair managed to find a few more clusters of iron ore they could mine out of the cave, each time getting closer to reaching the amount that they needed to fix the ship.

Carefully, they walked down the ravine. They could tell how much deeper they were getting gradually; the air was cooler, more humid, and it felt enclosed. It was darker too, and getting more difficult to see the way ahead even with the aid of the lanterns. With their vision compromised, it wasn’t long before Sarah mildly tripped over a rock, and upon regaining her balance she felt compelled to point her lantern down at it.

She let out an audible gasp. The white light of the lantern seemed to reflect yellow on the rock. Crosshair feared the worst when he’d heard her gasp, but when he checked on her, all he saw was her crouching on the ground to pick something up as well as the way her gaze lingered on it, her lips forming the word “wow” as she held it delicately.

“What is it?” Crosshair walked up to her and got a look of the little pebble she held, a tiny nugget of a yellow reflective mineral.

“It’s actually gold,” Sarah said as if she still couldn’t believe what it was. Entering the system of caves brought with it many concerns, so many that she didn’t bother to think much about the rare minerals that could be found in those depths. Using a part of the fabric of her blouse, Sarah wiped lingering dirt off the golden nugget and pocketed it inside one of the pouches of her belt where it would be safe, and she thought of Tech as she did. She had a feeling he’d like it.

They moved on. Quickly, they realized being so far underground would bring them the fair reward of encountering many more clusters of iron, perhaps more than would be necessary. They didn’t have to walk as much between clusters, and with Tech’s tools, mining wasn’t time consuming. The hover cart began filling up, lifting Sarah’s mood, and she could swear she sensed Crosshair feeling lighter as well.

He had his face covered by his helmet, but it made Sarah’s heart warm to think of his gaze softening; she’d had a taste of that rare sight of softness in him when he slept on the Marauder, and just the thought of him looking like that while awake and conscious, genuinely happy about something, made her quiver.

“Focus,” Crosshair broke the silence.

Despite her usual confidence, Sarah averted her gaze from his as she felt her cheeks heat up. “What do you mean focused? I’m perfectly focused.”

“No you’re not, Ace,” he chuckled beneath his helmet. “You’ve been all jumpy since we left the lagoons. You’re smiling more, I can tell.”

“I have not,” she denied, and she would have continued doing so were the words not echoing within her mind as Crosshair turned his back on her and began walking forward, lighting his trail.

Sarah watched him firmly, her heart racing as she thought of the possibilities. “Crosshair? How could you tell?”

Lightly, Crosshair scoffed. He turned around and walked back towards Sarah whilst removing his helmet, allowing her to see his eyes once more, illuminated by the dim white light of their trail. Crosshair moved closer to her than he usually did, his body inches from hers, leaning his face down until his lips were so near hers it was a sin not to let them touch. Sarah felt her marks burn, her eyes staring into his, not daring to move but an inch.

Then, Crosshair smirked. “I could tell because your face is obvious as fuck and you can’t hide shit.”

Sarah felt her heart drop, blushing out of sheer embarrassment. “Right.”

Crosshair had that smug look on his face, but his expression softened into something more sincere. “And I… I felt it.”

He’d spoken it so quietly it was as if he was afraid anyone would hear him admit it. Sarah jerked her gaze to him again.

“You felt it?”

“Forget it,” Crosshair turned his back on her again and walked in silence until he seemed to force himself to a stop. He reached his hand out to the wall and grabbed something out too only to scoff slightly at it before tossing it over at Sarah. “Here.”

Sarah caught it, another tiny stone, a rich, deep blue color with a few specs of earth. It was a lapis lazuli, gleaming even though it hadn’t yet been polished in a color not unlike the distinctive hue of the 501st.

“You’re most likely not going to want to leave until you have a little souvenir for everybody,” Crosshair said monotonously, “you may as well take that one for Echo.”

Sarah smiled as Crosshair put his helmet back on, concealing his expression yet again. “He’ll be touched to know you care enough about him.”

“You’re never going to tell him I picked that out,” Crosshair pointed at her firmly. “Now move.”

Before she kept moving forward, she smiled once more at the lapis lazuli and secured it in her pouch along with Tech’s gold pebble.

Their trail continued; there wasn’t much more room in the cart for remaining ore and its data dashboards displayed that the minimum mass of ore that they needed had already been reached, but they decided to look for more iron to spare in case it was necessary. Sarah made sure to thoroughly light the trail as they advanced, which became all the more necessary when the path they were on grew narrow, too narrow for them to fit the cart.

The time wore on and more iron was found, but Sarah felt she wasn’t ready to go back up yet. She got a hunch that had her looking into one of the narrower caves that led even further down, and before she went down through it, Crosshair grabbed her wrist.

“Where are you going?” He asked, partly worried, partly rough.

“Down that cave,” Sarah said normally.

“Why?”

“I…” she realized she didn’t have the best alibi. “I just have the feeling we could find some more things down here.”

“I was kidding about the souvenirs,” Crosshair slurred. “Get back here.”

“Excuse you, prince,” Sarah raised her brow at him and shook her hand off his grip. “This is my intuition, alright? I know better than to ignore it, so wait here for me.”

“Sarah–”

“I won’t be long.”

Crosshair groaned, clearly rolling his eyes at her under the helmet. “I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t have to,” she said.

“Between letting you go down there by yourself and staying near you, I’d rather not let you go alone,” he admitted.

Sarah clasped her hands together and faked a dreamy sigh. “My hero.”

Crosshair chuckled. “You pretend to fake it, doll. Now make this quick, I want to get back topside.”

She playfully rolled her eyes at him and enjoyed the witty banter. On the way, they stumbled upon specs of redstone, handy for conduction and weaponry, a quality Sarah felt Wrecker would appreciate.

Lights continued to be set down along their trail, and Sarah led the way according to what her intuition told her. Crosshair followed her several meters back, wordless, and just when she was beginning to miss his snarky remarks, Sarah felt the dusty ground beneath her begin to crumble–it was gravel. The slightest disturbance on it was enough to tumble it off its balance, and Sarah was sent falling alongside it.

Sarah hit the ground hard, but was lucky to not have any gravel falling on top of her. Her body ached, but she wasn’t hurt, and she stood up and dusted herself off as Crosshair ran up to the edge of the hole and aimed his lantern at her.

“Sarah!”

It was odd–so odd of her to think this that she thought she’d hit her head–how lovely Sarah thought Crosshair’s voice sounded when he yelled. He was always quiet, monotonous, his voice was that of a coiled snake contemplating when to strike, but she found his yelling of her name endearing.

Yeah, I hit my head.

“Sarah!” He yelled at her again as he began to prepare the hook attachment onto his rifle.

“I’m fine!” She called back at him.

“I’m coming to get you,” he said.

“No,” she held her hands out. “No, it’s okay. All the gravel that had to fall already did, the rest of the walls are solid. I can just climb my way out…”

She trailed off when she felt her hunch getting stronger, but above her, Crosshair wasn’t anymore patient.

“Then get back up here already,” he commanded.

“Hang on…” Sarah looked down one of the caves before her. “Let me look around more.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Sarah–”

“Crosshair,” she spoke his name firmly, the sound reaching him like an arrow through his body, straight through his heart.

He’d seldom heard someone talk to him like that; it was clear authority but dammit, he respected her for it.

“Trust me,” she said unwaveringly.

Crosshair sighed. “You have to stop playing that card.”

Sarah giggled and the sound filled the whole cave. “As soon as I’m back, you’re in charge, I promise.”

She began to turn around, resolved to enter that cave.

“Sarah.”

His voice was now at its usual tone, but it was nonetheless endearing. Sarah stopped and looked back up at Crosshair, who’d removed his helmet, and gazed at her with worry despite his decision to trust her.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

Sarah winked at him and nodded, hoping it was enough to give him the little boost of confidence he needed. Finally, she walked into the cave making sure to light the way well, and as she walked, Sarah heard the sound of bubbling magma that got only slightly louder the more she walked, and not far away, Sarah could hear a stream of water as well. Another round of intuition came to her and she felt like picking down the right side of the tunnel, opening herself a pathway to a whole other maze of caves.

She signaled its entrance and went past it, knowing she couldn’t have found it by coincidence. She didn’t have to walk long to notice a faint light at the end of one of the new tunnels that had to be a magma channel–probably best not to go down that direction–but she went down anyway. The mysterious red glow of the magma reflected on some specs on the roof of the cave, and her eye got caught on one that was peculiar, since she could almost swear it had a green hue. Sarah walked carefully closer to it until the little spec was directly above her.

There, resting safely on the roof of the cave, was a single emerald, one that was very small, and timelessly rare.

She extracted it despite how long it took her to do so, long enough to make Crosshair worry. Still, she felt it was worth it when she held the little emerald in her hand and secured it in the same pouch where she had the other stones.

Sarah only had one more thing to do before leaving, to look down the stream and see what she could find. It didn’t seem menacing, so she got inside and let the water carry her, but it appeared she’d underestimated its strength, and in a matter of meters, the stream had become too strong for her to swim against it. The water shoved her to the end of the cave, leaving her cornered with only the lantern to give her some view.

When she tried to move up the stream and couldn’t, she began to panic. In her stress, Sarah looked around at several directions, but she forced herself to a stop when another sight caught her eye. Not far from her, two more specs gleamed, reflecting the light of her lantern. Sarah then realized she was probably the only person in the galaxy who was stupid enough to try and go toward the specs rather than trying to find a way out, but she didn’t care, because she had just stumbled upon diamonds.

“Sarah!”

His voice added a touch of magic to the sight of both diamonds reflecting the light of her lantern; Sarah had to use all her strength and aid herself through the Force to keep herself still and hold onto the cave walls. They were cold and humid, slippery on her fingertips, but her eyes remained trailed on the prize. Why she was so keen on going through that risk baffled her, but it became clearer as Crosshair’s voice traveled down the cave.

“Sarah!” Crosshair called again.

“I’m down here!” She yelled in response.

She looked over her shoulder and made out his tall silhouette in the dim cave lighting, smirking to herself when she realized he was knocking his palm to his forehead. It was warming to think he did care about her after all, beyond all banter and heat. Sarah paid little attention to him and continued down the stream until she finally reached the glimmering specs. Using the ray Tech gave her, she extracted them: two diamonds, one bigger than the other, but both equally beautiful, equally rare.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?!” Crosshair called.

“To you I am!” Sarah replied, smiling brightly as she secured both diamonds in the pouch where the other stones were, hoping to the gods they’d be safe from the stream. “Help me out of here?”

“Sith hells, you’re a pain,” Crosshair muttered and detached the barrel of his rifle to replace it with the hook and cable. He launched the hook in her direction and it landed square inside the stone wall, giving Sarah the chance to pull herself through it. But as soon as she held onto it, the force of the stream threatened to overpower her and Crosshair.

Sarah knew that the only way he wouldn’t be dragged down with her was if something countered the strength of the stream. She held out her hand and concentrated on the Force around him, pushing against Crosshair and pinning him to the wall behind him. Now that the stream wasn’t overpowering him, it would make it more difficult for Sarah to pull herself up and maintain that grip, but she resolved to manage. She had something to give him, after all.

She struggled towards him, fighting both the water of the stream and her own push of Force, hanging onto the wire with one hand, though eventually making it to the other end of the stream. She noticed Crosshair fighting her push and holding out one of his arms, offering his hand to her. Without a second thought, Sarah took his hand and let go of everything, and out of the stream, the two were sent tumbling to the ground with her body above his.

The two quickly shuffled into sitting, though still entwined. Sarah panted to catch her breath after such an effort, and Crosshair quickly scanned her for any injuries as well as a reason for why she could have done something so clearly stupid.

“Are you fucking insane?” His voice remained with his usual sneer, but he hid in it a note of concern.

Alarmed, Sarah frantically felt within her pouch and counted the items. Six small objects were safe and sound inside her pouch, and she gave a deep sigh of relief only to begin laughing afterwards. The soft sound of her laughter echoed within the cave walls, filling Crosshair with bewilderment.

“What?” He asked her.

Sarah then felt inside her pouch and took out the two diamonds, holding out the bigger one to him as she continued to grin. Her nebulae irises beamed at Crosshair, her smile equally as big, and the marksman then realized he was being presented with a gift.

Not only had he never been given a gift–the enhancements to his rifle and weaponry that Tech made were more a favor than a gift, and that was all he’d ever received–but it baffled him why he’d be worthy of a present from Sarah. His piercing gaze softened as he looked at the little diamond, less than half the size of a fingernail. He took it from her gentle touch and met eyes with her, rendered, for once, speechless.

He stuttered, and rather than questioning, Crosshair affirmed, “You’re insane.”

Sarah couldn’t help but laugh once more, and this time, the laughter passed onto Crosshair.

“You’re batshit insane, you know that?” Crosshair said through a smooth laughter, a sound Sarah cherished deeply, feeling its warmth in her marks.

She continued to giggle and rested her head softly on his shoulder as Crosshair put his diamond inside a small compartment within the handle of his rifle, after which he helped her stand up. Sarah’s laughter faded and she looked at him with a kind smile, one that made Crosshair feel more than he ever had.

“As promised, you’re in charge now,” she broke the silence.

Crosshair sighed, a smile taking over his features against his will, all but astonishing Sarah. He was truly beautiful when he smiled.

“Don’t you dare run off on me like that again, you hear me?” He told her.

Her smile widened. “I promise I won’t. But only if you don’t run off either.”

“You’re stuck with me,” his tone was a threat, but his smile held a gentle promise. Crosshair removed the hook and cable from the rifle and switched them for the usual barrel, and once again, he donned his helmet. “Come on.”

The way back was long and time consuming, and getting the hover cart up was quite the challenge, but they both prevailed. Eventually, they reached the bulb where Crosshair first got wounded, and after that, it wasn’t long before they exited the rift and returned to the initial maze of caves they’d been in. They were high enough below ground for the hover cart to regain its location signal; Crosshair stopped and digited commands onto the hover cart’s controls, and when he finished, the cart began to move on its own through the caves, leaving them behind quickly.

“I didn’t know it could do that,” Sarah said.

“Tech showed me how to not long before we found you and Echo,” Crosshair replied. “I couldn’t do that further down for obvious reasons. Any more obvious things to point out?”

“Um, I don’t know,” she played along. “Maybe the fact that you’re a bit of a pain.”

Before Crosshair could shoot back an even wittier response, they were both stopped by a rumble, one different from all the noises they’d heard up until then. It went on for longer than the others and it was much deeper, and after it, they could hear multiple taps on the walls like claws moving quickly.

“Any feelings about that?” Crosshair asked her.

“It can’t be anything good,” Sarah’s voice shook as her body went cold. She put her hand on the wall and tried to sense whatever it was, and the first thing she noticed was the fast movement, then the size, and finally, she gasped when she noticed the amount of legs that thing had. “We have to move!”

Without questioning, Crosshair prepared his rifle. Sarah got her blaster ready too, and the two ran in the same direction that the hover cart went in. Sarah could feel that thing getting closer, but without a warning, the walls behind them exploded open followed by a big centipede emerging from them. It was huge, almost as big as the tunnels themselves, with about eight eyes and its two frontal legs thick enough to make new tunnels, their tips being fine and sharp, most definitely stingers.

“Run!” Sarah yelled.

Crosshair shot out two of the centipede’s eyes before running after Sarah, but that didn’t seem to do much to the creature except for angering it more and making it run after them at top speed. Risking making an avalanche, Sarah forced the roof down on the centipede to create a wall between them. It stopped the centipede for a while, giving them a chance to run, but it had gone to a tunnel beneath them, making the ground crumble underneath their feet. Crosshair could run past the hole, but Sarah wasn’t as fortunate, and she ended up falling in.

She was left facing the centipede, who approached her slowly, hissing at her with its stingers clearly visible. Though Sarah fired her blaster on it endlessly, she was terrified, and her blasts didn’t seem to do anything to its seemingly rock-hard cortex. She was too scared to use the Force. She felt she’d reached her end.

Above her, Crosshair shot the centipede in the eyes, but the centipede was faster. It charged toward Sarah and she barely dodged it, but she was still cornered. She tried to angle its face towards Crosshair so that he could have a clear shot, but she wasn’t as successful as planned. The centipede charged at Sarah one more time, and this time, Sarah couldn’t dodge. A sharp pain invaded her lower waist, causing her to grunt.

When her vision started going blank, she heard Crosshair shouting out her name as the pain began to expand every corner of her body.

Crosshair

He watched as her body fell limply on the ground, though he could still hear her grunting, even above the hissing of the centipede. She was still alive, but she was in pain, and he knew he had to hurry. His blasts drew the centipede's attention from her and now it was coming for him, which was exactly what he wanted. He wanted it to face him directly. Sith hells, he’d dare that thing to look him in the eyes if it meant he’d get to kill it after the way it hurt Sarah.

Crosshair was confident in the distance between him and the centipede. It was anxious to kill him, so it didn't deviate from his path. Crosshair took advantage of its lust and shot directly in its eye. Instead of shooting its other eyes out, like he’d been doing up until then, he kept shooting the same eye repeatedly. The blasts had to go deep enough into its brain eventually. As he predicted–and he was never wrong–the fire of his rifle penetrated the exoskeleton and finally made it to the creature’s brain. At last, the centipede hissed loudly and then it too fell limply on the ground.

Crosshair went down the hole that thing created and ran up to Sarah. He threw his helmet and rifle aside; he only cared about getting to her. He reached Sarah and flipped her over, and he was chilled to his bones when he saw how pale she looked. He held her body in his arms and felt her shivering, for once making him terrified. "Cross?" She said weakly.

“Sarah–” he choked. Gently, his gloved hand ran over her cheek, and her skin felt like ice. “Sarah, stay with me. Please.” The sight was awful, her irises were filled with fear and sadness.

He knew he had to hurry. He picked her up and placed her over his shoulder, and with strength that he pulled from gods knew were, Crosshair managed to climb out of the hole.

"Hunter, Tech!" He yelled into the comm, his fearful voice sounding alien even to himself. He knew his brothers would be concerned as soon as they heard his tone. "Come in, dammit!"

"Crosshair!" Hunter replied with the worry Crosshair had anticipated. "What is it?"

"Sarah’'s down," Crosshair growled into his comm device. "I'll meet you at the ship, come fast."

"We're on it," Hunter said.

"What happened to her?" Tech's voice came in.

"She was stung by a large centipede," Crosshair replied. He didn't go into much detail as his priority was still getting her out of there.

"Oh, no," Tech replied.

"What the fuck do you mean 'oh no'?" Crosshair’s voice sounded angry, as was his usual defense mechanism.

"She was poisoned," Tech explained as Crosshair kept running. "The Mortis Centipede's venom is strong, and it causes the victim to go past several stages. The good news is that its substance keeps the victim alive, meaning Sarah won't die of it, not soon, at least–”

“Tech, I swear to the fucking gods–” Crosshair growled again.

“Calm down and listen to me, Crosshair,” Tech said. “I’m telling you she’ll live. The Wookies must have an antidote, and if they don’t, I’ll blend something for her."

Crosshair's thoughts ran too quickly in his mind as they usually did, but all of them focused on Sarah and the burning need he had to return her to safety. She was still just his teammate, that much he was convincing himself of, but he couldn't help the shudder that overtook him when Tech mentioned Sarah dying. The thought would bring him to his knees shattered if he let it dwell in his mind any longer.

"Just head to the ship," Crosshair snarled into the comm.

"Do you happen to know what stage she's in?” Tech continued. “How is she behaving?"

"She's unconscious right now."

"Okay, well, just to give you a heads up, she's going to start laughing and speaking nonsense very soon," Tech explained. "The venom eventually makes its victim feel blissfully at ease while maintaining it alive. The centipedes prefer to eat their prey this way."

"I don't care! I'll be ready, just meet me at the godforsaken ship," Crosshair said and cut the comm. He kept running up the tunnels as fast as he could. As Tech had predicted, Sarah soon began mumbling stuff Crosshair couldn't quite make out.

"Crosshair?!" She groaned out.

He stopped and carefully set Sarah on the ground. When he did, Sarah began to laugh, but the sound wasn't like it had been before when she'd given him the diamond, it wasn’t sweet or full of life like it should have been. No, this sounded almost hysterical. He picked her up again, this time cradling the girl in his arms, and he hurried even more, eventually reaching the surface and running back to where the Marauder had landed before.

He’d never admit it out loud, but Crosshair had never been more grateful to see his brothers waiting there for him. The other four were rushing over to him as he held Sarah in his arms, who still occasionally babbled nonsense, and Tech was in front of all of them with his holopad ready to inspect her.

"What's her state?" Tech asked.

"I think she entered the blissfully at ease state," Crosshair replied to him. "But she doesn’t sound well. She's mostly unconscious but wakes up now and then."

Crosshair was about to hand Sarah over to Tech when the girl began giggling again and she clinged harder onto Crosshair, her arms wrapping around Crosshair’s shoulders, her fingertips caressing the back of his neck, catching the sharp-shooter way off guard. She kept laughing and, as she quieted down, she looked him straight in the eyes, which glistened for a moment, making Crosshair believe she wasn't poisoned for just a second. Her exotic orbs lit up as they observed Crosshair, and Sarah's lips curved up into the most adoring smile Crosshair had ever seen.

"I love you, Crosshair."

Crosshair's eyes widened. He looked at the rest of his team, who were all as shocked as he was. What had shocked him the most was how normal she’d sounded, how healthy and sweet and natural her declaration had been. Sarah’s voice had been loving, like she'd meant it.

"She's delusional," Crosshair dismissed the thought as he handed a giggly Sarah to Tech, who cradled her in his arms similarly, making Crosshair feel a twitch of anger.

"Clearly," Tech said. "Alright, you guys load the ore into the ship. Echo and I will take Sarah into the village, I'll give her an antidote there."

“I’m not leaving her,” Crosshair snarled, catching his brothers off guard.

“Crosshair,” Tech snapped his brother out of it. “She is going to be fine with me and Echo. I have never failed you before. Now load the ore onto the ship. She’ll be fine.”

Crosshair hesitated, but Tech and Echo rushed Sarah away before he could react. As they got farther, Crosshair caught a glimpse of Sarah poking Tech's goggles while laughing.

"They're round!" She yelled, followed by more loud laughter.

Her drunk-like state gave Crosshair the slightest hope that what she had said about loving him hadn't been true. He’d been messing with her in the cave, for sure. There was teasing. And he didn’t deny feeling things, things he couldn’t explain. But how in the fucking hells of the galaxy could that be love?

Could it even be love?

Crosshair’s head began to ache. He turned around to begin loading the ore into the ship but was blocked by Wrecker, who was grinning indiscreetly.

"What?" Crosshair said.

"She meant it!" He laughed loudly, in pure Wrecker fashion. "SHE LOVES YOU!"

Crosshair scoffed and shoved Wrecker away with his hand. He put his helmet back on and completely neglected what had just happened with Sarah.

"Let's just load the ship," Crosshair said.

And as he made his way to the ore, he caught a glimpse of Hunter looking at him in a way he couldn't quite understand. No, he understood it alright. He knew his brother Hunter all too well, but Crosshair wouldn't do anything about it. There was no way he could, and that he repeated to himself as he loaded the raw iron onto the Marauder.

Soon enough, Hunter appeared behind him. “You doing alright?”

“Sarah’s the one we need to worry about,” Crosshair barked back.

“I know,” Hunter hid a certain tone in his voice.

Crosshair finally faced his oldest brother and removed his helmet to glare down at Hunter. “What do you want?”

Hunter hesitated until he sighed the tension away. “Crosshair… I’d never heard you that scared before.”

Crosshair felt his chest heat, and against his will, his features softened when the realization came. “I’d never been that scared before.”

He never had. The thought of losing Sarah, the thought of her being taken away from him, regardless of what he felt for her, he wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t handle it–couldn’t handle it.

He still didn’t dare to admit to himself that he loved her.

Instead, Crosshair’s attention was brought back to Hunter. Crosshair knew how to read all of his brothers very well; he knew them better than anyone else in the galaxy. Regardless, Crosshair had never seen Hunter like that. Crosshair was intelligent, and he knew Hunter had sparked some emotion for Sarah as well. He made it obvious too, and much like Sarah, Hunter wasn’t good at hiding what he felt.

Crosshair smirked. “Load the ore to the ship–”

“Since when do you think you can order me around?”

“I have to go see Sarah.”

Crosshair walked past Hunter, not bothering to look back at him even over his shoulder. He’d been the one down in that cave with Sarah. He was the one clouded with conflicted emotions over her, not Hunter. In a way, Crosshair was guilty. He was also relieved she’d be fine. He wanted to be there when she woke up, but he wanted to hide from her.

He knew how much he’d been rendered an embarrassing mess, and it was all because of those few words she’d managed to say before she was carried away from him.

As he walked, Crosshair felt Hunter’s gaze on him, but he didn’t intend to let that change anything.

Sarah

The bright lights blinded her for a moment and made her head sting. When she could finally open her eyes, Sarah looked around to register the room she was in. Her soft bed on the ground was surrounded by medicinal herbs and medical equipment, most likely Tech’s, but what caught her attention the most as she looked around was the sight of Crosshair cleaning his rifle as he sat on a chair at the edge of her bed.

“Why are you here?” Sarah asked him, her voice creaking and weak.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t die,” he responded as bluntly as ever.

“You wouldn’t happen to be worried about me, would you, now?” She teased.

“No.”

When Crosshair rested the rifle on his lap, Sarah got a look of the chain dangling from his neck, which wasn’t there before. At the bottom of the chain was a small, shiny stone, and it made Sarah grin like an idiot when she realized it was the diamond.

Crosshair noticed her reaction and looked at her questioningly. “What?”

“You have the diamond,” she squealed.

“Yes.”

Her eyes sparkled, and she let out a soft laughter, one that sounded much more like hers. “Is it possible that the big, mean, grumpy marksman actually does have a heart after all?”

“Shut up,” Crosshair said with a smile that betrayed him.

She sat up on the bed when the door opened and the rest of her team showed up. Hunter was the first one to walk up to her bed and crouch beside it, laying on Sarah a soft gaze.

“How do you feel?” He asked her.

“Tired. Woozy… but better,” Sarah replied. “And you guys? What’s happened?”

“We got matters taken care of,” Hunter said. “No Separatists will be coming back here anytime soon. Some things did get damaged in battles,” Hunter looked over at Wrecker, who grinned proudly, “but that’s almost fixed too.”

“Sounds like it was all worth it then,” she told him and then looked over at Tech. “We did get enough iron, right?”

“Oh, yes, more than enough,” Tech told her. “It’s being processed now.”

Sarah sighed in relief. “Good.”

“Um…” Wrecker began shyly. “I brought you something to make you feel better.” He approached the bed and held out his very own Lula, which Sarah took with a huge smile.

“Lula!” She hugged the plush toy and looked at Wrecker. “Thank you. You know, that reminds me, I brought presents for you guys too.”

Sarah looked around and found her belt and pouches beside her bed; she reached for it and carefully took out the stones, one by one, starting with the golden nugget.

“This is for you,” Sarah said as she handed it to Tech. “I thought you’d like it.” Then she took out the rest of the stones and gave them to each batcher. “Redstone for Wrecker, because it’s handy for weapons, it’s lively and hot, and it reminds me of him. And Lapis Lazuli for Echo, who no matter what, will always look damn good in blue armor.”

“Ah, old times,” Echo smiled serenely.

She then looked at Hunter and handed him the emerald. “And this one’s for you.”

Hunter smiled softly at her. “Thanks, Sarah.”

Sarah smiled back at him and felt her cheeks a bit hot.

“How did you find that?” Tech adjusted his goggles. “Finding emeralds is far more rare even than finding diamonds.”

“I know,” Sarah replied and looked at Crosshair. “We just stumbled upon it, like we did with everything in that cave.”

In the silence that loomed, Sarah could have sworn Crosshair had wanted to smile at her.

“Well…” Tech then spoke up, awkwardly showing a syringe to Sarah. “I, uh… I hate to break this up, but I do need to give you your second dose of antidote.”

She began to feel nervous at the sight of such a big needle. “That is a big dose. A-and what do you mean with second dose? How long have I been out?”

“Two and a half days,” Tech said.

“Two and a half?!” Sarah’s eyes widened. “Woah.”

“Do not worry,” Tech continued as he bumped the syringe to rid it of air bubbles. “That was mostly because of the sedatives I gave you. It was either that or having you wake up every hour and acting like a hopeless drunk. You should have heard the things you said.”

“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” said Sarah.

Without exception, every trooper in the room looked over at Crosshair, who glared defensively in return.

“Oh, no…” Sarah laughed. “What did I say?”

“Nothing,” Crosshair scoffed.

“I’m just hoping it was nothing too bad,” Sarah teased. “Whatever it was, I get the feeling I meant it.”

Once again, they all stared at Crosshair, but this time around, he smirked and shook his head without saying anything else, leaving Sarah puzzled.

Tech cleared his throat. “Anyways. Sarah, your antidote.”

She sighed, dreading the needle. “Fine.” She held out her arm and covered her eyes with her spare hand. “Do it.”

Nothing happened for a while; Sarah couldn’t even hear movement, causing her to suspect. She peeked at Tech and uncovered her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

Tech sighed. “Sarah, if I inject this into your arm, it will hurt multiple times more than it should and your body will poorly process the dose.”

“Well if not my arm, where are you going to put the needle?” Then, Sarah’s eyes widened and she went pale. “Oh, no. Absolutely not.”

Tech nodded. “I’m sorry. Though I have done it once already.”

Sarah winced out of dread and embarrassment and let out a tiny sob, but ultimately she began to turn around. “Fine, get it over with.”

Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker made their way to the door and left the room. Before Crosshair did the same, he went over to stand next to Sarah, looking down with a smug grin.

“What?” Sarah sneered at him.

“Would you like me to hold your hand?” Crosshair teased.

She scoffed. “I suppose you chose this angle strategically to get a good look at my butt.”

“I’m a sniper, Ace,” he winked at her. “I always get the best angles.”

Sarah frowned at him. “Get out now.”

Crosshair laughed smugly, but Sarah could still detect that lingering softness whenever he talked to her, causing her to grin lovingly at him even if he was being a bit of a cocky bastard.

“No, but seriously, get out,” Sarah said. “I only want Tech here.”

“Actually, you need me here,” Tech corrected.

Sarah glared playfully at Tech as Crosshair finally left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Well, Tech,” Sarah sighed. “I think it’s safe to say you and I hold no more secrets from one another.”

Tech raised an eyebrow as he wiped her skin with disinfectant. “That is debatable.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tech laughed softly. “Do you really not remember anything?”

“I remember poking at your goggles, but only because I’ve always wanted to do that,” Sarah said.

“And that’s it?”

“Yes. Why?”

Tech remained mute and raised both brows, nearly proceeding to injecting her.

“Tech,” Sarah stopped him. “What did I say?”

“That’s not for me to tell.”

“I’m asking you about something I said,” Sarah tried to persuade. “Now tell me, what was it, and what does it have to do with Crosshair?”

Tech looked at her, and for a moment it looked like he was about to tell her. Instead, Tech decisively poked the needle with the antidote into Sarah’s left glute as the words “Son of a bitch!” shamelessly left her mouth in agonizing pain.

From there on out, it took Sarah a couple more days to recover completely. In that time, the rest of Clone Force 99 helped the Wookies rebuild their huts until they were as good as new. Sarah couldn’t do much to help, with her being mostly landed on a wheelchair watching from afar as everyone carried things to and fro.

The iron had also been refined. As a sign of gratitude, the Wookies helped the clones with that process as well, meaning that, with Tech and Echo’s brain power combined, the ship’s engines would soon be up and running. With all of that done, the troop resolved to leave the village as soon as Sarah could stand.

Most of the Wookies went to see them off at their ship before they left, and the chief bowed down and spoke, leaving for Tech to translate.

"He gives us his most sincere thanks on behalf of the village, and says we are welcome here whenever we may need it. He and the villagers wish us a good voyage," Tech said.

"It's us who should be thanking you," Hunter replied. "You helped bring one of our own back to health."

Hunter’s gaze landed softly on Sarah, who smiled back in return, and she bowed down at the Wookies in gratitude.

The Wookies slightly bowed down again and the whole squad did the same in return. Then, most of them turned around to head back to the village, but Tech quickly grabbed the holopad and stopped one of the villagers, asking her for a favor.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked him.

"We don't have a picture of us yet," Tech sayid. "We haven't taken one with you and Echo."

"Aww!" Sarah yelled, trying hard not to hug Tech for showing his soft side. "I agree, we need a picture of all of us."

Tech handed the datapad to the Wookie girl and the squad huddled up. Wrecker, being the biggest one, towered at the very back. Slightly in front stood Crosshair, the second tallest, leaving Echo and Hunter to position themselves at Sarah’s sides in the next row, making her stand in the very center right in front of Wrecker. And finally, Tech crouched down in front of all of them, and the Wookie took their picture. Tech thanked her afterwards and she returned to the village.

They all took some time to look at the picture, laughing and commenting a bit on it, and after that it was time to get back on the Marauder and head to the next mission. Crosshair and Sarah were the last ones to get on, and before stepping up the Marauder’s platform, Sarah reached out to grab Crosshair’s wrist.

"Hey," Sarah said as he turned around. "I… I just wanted to say thanks."

"What for?"

"You saved my life."

Crosshair scoffed. "Tech did that with the help of the Wookies, not me."

"You carried me out of that cave," she told him. "And you killed that thing. So... really, thanks."

His lip very slightly curved upward. "You saved me too. We're even."

Sarah stopped him one more time before he got onto the ship, and Crosshair looked at her, once again, rendered puzzled by this girl’s behavior.

She was almost too nervous to speak, but she managed to get the words out. "When I was still poisoned, what did I say to you?"

Crosshair chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

Crosshair took a step closer to her. Sarah had to look up at him, and she began to feel nervous at how close he was, so close she could feel the very heat radiating from his body. At that proximity, it seemed easy to lean in, get it over with. She’d have to stand on her toes, but she could finally close the gap between them. Sarah’s eyes fell on his lips, partly hoping she wasn’t being too obvious, but mostly not caring. They looked soft, skilled. They looked delicious.

But before she could kiss him, Crosshair smirked and popped a toothpick into his mouth. With his finger, Crosshair lightly tapped on Sarah’s chin, looking smugly at her. “Come on, doll.”

He then walked into the ship. Sarah was left staring at him, longing for what could have been, if only for a few seconds, and then she followed him inside, unable to hide the grin he’d just gotten out of her.

#the moonwalker series #oc sarah adhara #moonstrider writes #tbb crosshair #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch #crosshair

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