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echoedcrosshairs · 1 year

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Dark Redemption: Stranger’s Together - Part II

Summary: After Crosshair joined the empire you went looking for him and eventually found him but he wasn’t the man you remember, temporarily free from the empire Crosshair has to figure out whether he’s staying to make amends or rejoin the empire 🖤Smut with an Angsty Plot🖤

Warning: Cannon typical violence, Order 66, Pinning, former established relationship, emotional turmoil, eventually smut, Crosshair’s depression, Crosshair’s head wound, Happy Flashback. || This is a darker series ||

Word Count: 9k ~ Song Ships in the Night / Mat Kearney

Masterlist ~ Part I

Imaginary red speckled your hands as you searched them, Am I no better then him? I've see what he's capable of, the only one who truly knows and I'm willingly proposing to send him back. A short burst of maniacal laughter spilled out as your heart rate vibrated through your chest. You covered your free willed lips with your trembling hand but Hunter had already walked back in and sat on the beds edge next to you his tenderness squeezing your leg which helped settle your trembling form.

Hunter ignored Crosshairs shallow breathing in the door way when he spoke, "Are you sure you want to go down too why not just let him find his own way?"

"Penance," you whispered the black scar on your heart threatening to rip itself open again, "My Crosshair is gone..." your voice trialed off to finally met Hunter's concerned gaze, "but I have to know without a shred of doubt that monster isn't him."

"He's Crosshair," Hunter whispered answering the question.

"Are you sure Hunter?" You looked away, "I loved him, so much..."

"I know," Hunter replied letting go, "and he loved you," Hunter unfolded a tiny piece of paper and handed it to you, "as much as he tried to hide it."

Weakly you took the paper opening it to find another photo of the two of you together, a tender moment on a Naboo balcony his arm around your waist with his usual expression but their was no mistaking the look in his eyes. You could see the photo had been reopened several times with the deep crinkle marks, "Why did you never show me?" you asked still staring at it.

"Incase there was ever a day you doubted it. Keep it," Hunter stood up staring down at the photo, "Tech says preparing to land." You followed Hunter out taking the available seat.

"Any particular area?" Tech asked as all of you entered the atmosphere.

"There's a small town near the port I'm fond of."

"When where you here long enough to be fond of one?" Crosshair said looking at you.

"Wouldn't you like to know, snarky," the teasing endearment fell out, your upper lip twitched into a sneer before typing in the coordinates for Tech. You felt Crosshair's eyes searing into you as you slide back into your seat. You brought your leg up setting your cheek on it as you unfolded the picture. A small genuine smile gracing your face as you looked at it, not just because of the intimacy captured in the photo but how it had become a playful game between the brothers to catch these moments. How simple life had been. You folded the photo back up and tucked it your pocket finding Omega standing over you who had also been looking at the photo.

"You both look happy."

"Prying is rude, Omega" you replied flatly, "but yes."

"This place is a dump," you heard Echo grumble, looking up you smiled finding the city the same before the Empire, "Are you sure? There has to be better areas."

"No one would think twice of looking for us here. I'll take a com and my go pack," you looked at Echo's grumpy expression as Tech landed. Echo had always been your closes confidant and best friend especially in Crosshair's absences. He was the first out of his seat hugging you ignoring Crosshair's glare that it went on a couple moments to long. "See you later, Corporal," you said cheerfully, goodbye was to final but you both knew the odds. He didn't say anything when he let go giving you a solider's nod which he only reserved for Captain Rex. You would have sworn Wrecker broke a rib picking you up.

"Last chance," Hunter whispered hugging you once the three of you got to the ramp.

"If I die, bury the photos in my place. Don't hate him for it," you swallowed feeling him go ridged, you pulled back giving him a kiss on the cheek, "Take care of Omega, she can have my cookie stash."

"What didn't you tell us," Hunter said deadlocking his grip around your arm knowing their was more to the story as it seemed to lead in a more finale direction.

"I just told you," Hunter's eyes fell to Crosshair who was rigidly postured like a solider waiting for the next set of orders, "I wouldn't have it any other way," Hunter's hands fell to fist at his side, "You were a squad long before I joined and will be afterwards," you stated resisting the urge to embrace the sergeant again.

Descending the ramp was different this time, it was just a mode of transportation to the reality below but this time is a stairway to hell deciding your punishment. They weren't steps, they were echoes of the souls secrets waiting to be judged. You wondered if any sane person would rationally walk towards their possible death before you looked to him, the former soldier of the Republic had done many suicide mission and came back, maybe that was what this was a suicide mission. Consequently whatever this was didn't matter, depending on the outcome. The bags under his eyes were heavy, the small lines in his face more define but how he carried himself showed a broken man steeling himself to the world. You caught him eyeing you in return, shifting your gaze back to the city you silently lead both of you to a hotel. The building was far from fancy but it had a secret reputation.

"A black room if possible, two beds, three nights," you said slipping him a tiny pouch, the man unphased opened it and handed you a key to the suite, "Yes I know the way," you smiled before he could ask.

Both of you went to the fair side of the building ascending the hidden staircase behind a portrait. Crosshair remained silent studying the surroundings as both of you found the black door with the number matching the key. Everywhere else had the generic slide open door however these were old and manual. He took the key from your semi trembling hand and opened it without a word letting you enter first. He took the bed closes to the window, he sat there watching the industrial city move about as small ships flew about and speeders glide.

"I'll find you something less suspicious to wear, are your measurements still the same?" Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he gave you a small nod as he flicked a tooth pick into his mouth, "I'll be back in thirty."

He wanted to follow after you but this soldiery time would give him time to think how much had happened today and wonder what was in the pouch. Undoing his armor, he left it in small stacks on the poor excuse for a coffee table as it wobbled lightly at the weight. Just in his blacks he felt naked, overly overexposed to the unknown world around him. He placed himself in the sofa staring at the ceiling, little bits of memory of his life prior to the empire resurfacing. A kiss, a passionate night, fighting, droids, then came the abandonment, loneliness and finally the rage at his brothers but Hunter told him you weren't them. Crosshair replayed your conversation with Hunter what seemed to be a hundred times before it fell into place, if he was ordered too could he? With the chip he could do it as easy as breathing but now without it, he wondered if he still had the resolve. It was to late when he noticed he had curled in on himself when the door opened. When you spend so much time with a person you recognize their tells just from bodily language alone after all this time Crosshair scolded himself for his still being the exact same. He grumbled a noise uncurling himself noticing your eyes peeled themselves from his finely shaped figure and snatched the bag from your hand, "You wish I was that ugly," he snarked. Neatly laying out the new apparel it was reminiscent of time he chose to forget, moments that use to haunt his waking hours in the night. The plan black pants and dark maroon turtle neck fit him best in the moment, he grabbed them and took himself to the refresher to change.

"Only if I could tell if your heart is," you whispered once you heard the door shut. Out of muscle memory you refolded the clothes setting them out in a stack before grabbing your simple entire from the other bag.

"What are those," Crosshair said flatly noticing the still healing blemishes speckled across your shoulders.

"Ask Admiral Rampart," you snapped pulling the shirt quickly on, "Surprised you didn't see us when you walked pass," you knew you shouldn't have said it but the provocation was already out hanging in the air.

"What!" he seethed before backing you into the wall glaring down at you caging you with his arms and his eyes narrowed to slits.

Glaring back at him, "You heard me just fine."

Crosshair's mind flicked to a report he'd accidentally seen on Ramparts desk that he tried to hide, an escaped insurgent and remembered the chipper attitude of the Admiral prior, "What do you know."

"Everything."

His arms dropped, backing away he stuck a fresh tooth in his mouth. Burying his emotions he let his face go blank, "Everything?" he asked flatly not looking at you. Everything to range from absolutely nothing to everything.

"For a man with impeccable eyesight, you didn't see the probe droids."

Crosshair gave a curt nod looking at you looking for any semblance of a lie or sign of rejection but it was like looking in the mirror, nothing. Everything. He looked down at the perfectly stacked clothing, somethings never change even after knowing everything. He took the stack of clothing and put them in the dresser on his side of the bed. Three nights? "What's the plan?" He droned.

"Well I plan to go on a stroll, maybe hit a cantina and a decent dinner. You're free to tag along, or head home, or find company to keep yourself occupied, I hear imps often enjoy the... riveting company" the jab obvious, "However I plan to soak this place in one more time," you shrugged slipping the key into your pocket.

"Have you?" He asked quietly.

"No," you opened the door noting the hesitation before he accompanied you. Electing to ignore the silence, "Ever been here?"

He contemplated the answer and lack of the return question on the matter, "Once."

Pondering if there was a double meaning you looked at him, Crosshair always had the best Sabacc face. Sneaking out the hotel your feet guided you towards an old Cantina on the other side of town. Taking in the bustling little city, it seemed so raw untouched by the empire unlike the other major cities around this one hadn't been collected into the fold yet because there was no strategic value or assets here. One could describe it as beautiful while Echo described it as a dump, to most it was still beautiful no flags hung, no soldiers stationed and no clogged roads for Imperial transports. It was difficult to tell the difference between the natural wind and speeders but after being on a ship so long then only having the freedom to smell the smoke of Kamino it was a lavishly sensation. Noticing an approaching speeder over head, you raised your arms your finger tips catching in the strong wind gusting past and your heart rate picked up at the sensation. Sighing you brought your arms down tucking them at your sides, ignoring Crosshair's questioning expression and impeccable soldier posture, "You need to relax, you stick out like gundark in a room of banthas."

"Don't tell me what to do," he scowled but attempted to relax his posture anyway.

"Says the one listening," you pointed out noticing the tension in his shoulders fading.

"Why three nights?" he got the nerve to ask.

"I'm figuring either you sneak off tonight and contact the empire or we have time to... get to know one another."

"You know me," he said squinting.

"In another life perhaps," you asked looking at him, "know you however? I do not."

Crosshair studied you, "What makes you say that?" he asked watching you stop and stare at him.

You touched the scarred webbing across the side of his head before bringing your hand back to your side, "You're not the same after all of that, you can't be," was all you managed to get out, "I saw everything you did for the sake of that wretched Empire. My Crosshair never would have never slaughtered innocents, wouldn't have followed so blindly... he would never be you."

His hand vice gripped your hand tugging you towards him, "Do you think I had a choice in the beginning," he snarled flashing the scaring, "They knew it activated and never came for me, abandoned me to become a monster for the empire because they prioritized her, the child they didn't even know over me. My brothers," he spat, "betrayed everything we stood for. I had no where else to go," venom laced his words while rage contorted his face, "At least with the Empire I know where I truly stand. Then there's you," he growled, "Treating me as if I'm gone, discarded just like they did to me. You're no better."

"You're right, I am no better. I'm giving you, a monster, an opportunity to survive knowing the devastation you've left in your wake," you hissed back, "I know you didn't have a choice in the beginning, but you do now" you studied him watching the calculation of answers reeling across his face, the rage softening, "You don't have to go back to your brothers and you don't go back to the empire."

"We're both monsters then," Crosshair choose his words carefully, "Neither of us are the same." Do you want to forsake what we had because of what I've had to become to survive? The question died on his tongue, "Why?"

"I'm not ready to give up on Crosshair, I may mourn him but that doesn't mean I'm ready to forget what we had," he didn't even need to ask the question both of you had always had similar trains of thought, "Even knowing everything I know, he is the only thing that kept me going during Rampart's sessions trying to break me." Without thinking about it Crosshair lured you to his barely breathing chest ignoring the public setting as letting his lips brush against yours for a split moment before resting his chin on your forehead.

The speech center of your brain check out for the day at his outburst even through the new clothes aroma he still managed to smell the same. As quick as the outburst had started it ended, he took his arms off of you and backed away as if nothing had happened and started walking. Dazed, you followed after him not sure at this point who was leading who to where. The solidness of him shook you, he was here, alive, not just ghost haunting your memories or a shadow lurking just out of reach. You stumbled over to the nearest ally way, hunched against whatever building trying to get a hold of your spinning head while your stomach grew a swarm of butterflies. How could just a smell do this, but it wasn't just the smell but the eruption of emotions caused by the lips and arms of a ghost. What is happening. You saw him lean against the side of the building looking down at you, "What, thinks it's funny?" You breathed.

"No, let's go back to the hotel," Crosshair kept a collected expression as he recognized the signs.

"If I move I think I'm going to be sick."

"Wouldn't be the first time I've seen you sick," he

mumbled pulling you away from the wall and waiting but a warning never came. Keeping an awkward grip on you, Crosshair maneuvered both of you up in the discreet hotel room above. He placed you next to the refresher feeling your weak grasp clinging to his pants ankle, "Cross," he heard you say weakly noticing how paled your skin looked. He got down sitting next to you, "Yes?" he observed you laying down, setting your head in his lap. Both of you remained silent, but he saw some of your color return. Interesting, he thought. Cross, she said my name. His eyes went wide as he observed your clammy skin and he brought his fingers to your rapid pulse, "What do you need?"

"Nothing," you pulled up disgusting by the show of weakness, awkwardly crawling your way into your bed.

"What do you need." He repeated.

"I need Crosshair," you said tucking your arm under the pillow holding onto it not bothering to peel your clothes as you crawled under the covers. Finger tips finding the photo tucked away in your pocket, you pulled it out and stared at it.

Before you could put it away he snatched it out of your grasp sitting back on his own bed looking down at it, "I'm right here," he muttered staring at it before setting it on the nightstand, "move," he growled peeling his shirt and pulling back the covers climbing in. The sensation of having someone so close made his skin feel as if beetles were trying to burrow out as he pulled your stiff form to him, "relax," he realized how ironic it was due to his rigid nature. Pulling your face to his bare chest, he tangled his legs around yours as he held your waist. Crosshair let out a deep breath as he felt the palm of your hands warm against his chest, finger tips just barely burrowing into him and face pressing into him. He didn't need Hunter's hearing to hear the well practiced silent sobbing, "Cyar'ika," he whispered letting his hand attempt to make soothing circles.

Your hands had a mind of there own as they pushed against him as you stared up meeting the no longer familiar eyes but you saw it just the faintest silver of light in the darkness, "CT-"

"Crosshair," he growled trying to keep the anger from reaching his facial muscles with little result, but it wasn't anger pointed towards you it was towards what Rampart did to both of you. He let you push him stiffening not knowing what you were going to do, "You'll never see me, accept me," forgive me he said flatly detangling himself from you moving to his own bed staring at the ceiling. His fingers traced the familiar tattoo on his face, one you had touch countless times wondering if it was time to also get it removed. He wanted to curse the maker but couldn't find the words to do so that didn't make him curse himself in the process. Slowly everything he was getting ripped away piece by piece and there was nothing he could do about it. He pinched the bridge of his nose squeezing his eyes shut, your whispered confession pulling him out of his thoughts abruptly, "In the darkness hours of the night, I thought of you," he wouldn't repeat what you had said, "the chip didn't take you from me," it was as close to a confession as he could get. He looked over at you, "Were you and Hunter or Echo...?" His stomach dropped at the question that had been gnawing at him at how close you seemed to either of them. It felt like there was more to the story other then just being a squad because there was something there that he couldn't put his finger on.

"No, when you left... Echo is the one who tried to console me so I could keep going, he's my best friend, he was the first person who saw me when they rescued me. Hunter is just Hunter, he's worried about me being with you" you admitted.

"Would you have if I never..." came back?

"No," the answer was quick and precise, "my heart and loyalty was to Crosshair."

"If it wouldn't have been the chip, would you have come with me?" he asked returning his attention to the ceiling.

This time you looked at him, perfect skin, the narrow arch of his nose, a jaw line so sharp it could be use to cut plastoid but there were also unmistakable bags under his eyes, from regretful nights to long missions you couldn't tell. "They asked me that too," you said returning your attention to the ceiling, "My Crosshair would have never joined, at least deep down that's what I hope."

"He's a soldier, what else is there besides war?"

"A family? Kids? Normalcy?" You rattled off several more things knowing it fell on deaf ears.

"Didn't answer the question."

"Don't think I would have lasted long seeing how they treat civilians and clones."

"So you would have betrayed me?"

"I would be betraying the Empire, Crosshair. Everything isn't as black and white as your narrow mind thinks it is."

"Narrow mind?" he sat up glaring, "Betraying the Empire would be betraying me."

"Except Crosshair isn't the Empire, he's just a wheel in a cog propelling it. He's just a man not a concept sweeping the galaxy in eternal dictatorship," you watch his eyes squint but he laid back down.

"I don't think we should talk politics."

"We should before you execute me, make me understand your reasoning."

"I wouldn't."

"Then you would be betraying the empire by going against an order," you stated seeing the contemplation reeling across his face, "when it's given, that is."

He heard his knuckles pop from how hard his fist were clenched, "You claim not to know me, yet you risk your life for mine?" he growled, "What's the point in remembering, if I don't exist?" he got up facing the wall laying his hands flat against it resting his forehead against, "The universe is erasing me, just another meaningless clone in the masses" he whispered. It was the whisper of a man on the verge of snapping. His palm hit the wall leaving an noticeable crack.

You sat up staring at his muscular back, the tension knots visible, "Says the man who will barely look at me and wants nothing to do but pick fights," you watched him spin on his heel standing to full height, very step calculated as he moved as he stared down his jaw set as he leaned down getting face level with you.

"I've never been one for words," grabbing a tooth pick from his pocket he stuck it between his lips waiting to gauge your reaction to the proximity. You're eyes were trapped on him, a memory of a smiled pulled at his lips. The first real one he'd had in a long time, "This is what you wanted," he said noticing the tiny hint of fear in your features. He leaned in, "Omega is right, I don't recognize you either but at least I'm trying."

You bit the end of the tooth pick sliding it between your own tooth, "You don't think I am either."

"No."

You let out the breath, "You're right, all I see is who you've become because I can't see who you were. The man in that photo had love in his eyes for me but you don't seem too," the dagger in his heart twisted, "Crosshair loved me but I don't think you do. I think your chasing a memory to hope to feel something again," the dagger ripping out his still beating heart.

He plunked the toothpick out of your mouth snapping it with his fingers before casting it to the ground, "Are you actually going to force me to say it back?" Crosshair whispered letting fingers found your chin forcing his facial features soften. His face barely felt like his own anymore, the vulnerably and raw emotion he let show across it were so foreign compared to his usual demeanor. Weakness was everything he tried to cull in himself serving the Empire because it wasn't a luxury he couldn't afford anyone to know. Attachment, love, remorse and the unyielding presence of guilt that kept him up in the dead of night regardless of how much he tried to shove it aside it forever lingered on the edge of his consciousness. He waited letting you take in the love, pain and the ache of desperate longing he felt deep with in the dark confines of his broken soul.

His hand was cold against your face but you didn't pull away. You stared at him while the darkness in his eyes was a remainder there was still a beast inside part of who he use to be was fronting. The grip softened, dropping to his knees forcing himself to look up at you. Confessions of his bared soul laid before you to judge. Silently begging you to deem him as sinner so he could find his penance before begging for the salvation of only thing that could stitch together the remnants of his shattered soul, love. There were no secrets, every transgression you were already privy to. You didn't recognize this side to him, grabbing his hand you pulled you him back up towards you onto the bed. Fingers dug into him pulling him close except this time he was the one who silently wept as he downturned his face into the pillow.

"Cross," you breathed pressing your face into the center of his chest. You felt his legs wrap around yours and his arms cage you, he didn't want you to see him like this and you weren't going to force him to let you.

Finally pain stopped shedding from his once barren tear ducks, his eyes found the wet spot in the pillow and flipped over the pillow to hide the annoyance of the outburst. His thin fingers found the collar of your shirt, he paused for a moment with your tense at the touch before he proceeded to open the collar staring at the injection marks. They will vanish with time. His jaw clamped at the frustration you had been right there next to him for who knows how long and how far everyone went to hide it. He wasn't stupid enough to look you up in the system and when he did ask they had side stepped the question. I am a soldier, stop being so soft. She's capable of handling herself, she knew what could happen. Crosshair let out a deep everlasting breath composing himself. He let himself indulge on the feeling on your warm breath against his pectoral muscles as your fingers clung to him almost in fear that he would disappear if you let go. Two strangers with a lifetime of memories, which once transcended what Crosshair ever thought possible for himself, who both now clung to the specter of the other trying to find any semblance of that lifetime in this one. He wasn't a fool, his story would never have a happy ending but for now he could at least have a tiny slice of what was.

"Do you want to try going out again?" he asked releasing the possible double meaning of his uncarefully spoken words, "I could use a drink," he added.

"Yeah," you pulled away not able to look at him. You fluffed out his shirt and handed it to him. Feeling his slender form blocking your path to door, you finally looked up at him. His face at regained his regular snarky yet stern appearance but you could see the traces of red in his sclera. You watched him put his shirt one, his eyes only for a brief moment breaking contact as he stood there silently observing. "Yes?" you finally asked after he continued not to move.

"We'll never be who we were before," he said this time attempting to choose his words carefully, "If the war has taught me anything, it is anything can be rebuilt with time," he turned leaving you there for moment to ponder his words as he headed for the exit.

You followed after him wondering if he meant the two of you or the Empire. He had always been allusive with his wording, leaving it open ended and up to interpretation when it came to anything that wasn't on the battle field. Noticing his rigid posture return you caught up to his side flicking his shoulder. Hearing a small grunt you saw them relax. Instead of walking this time, you hailed a cab to the cantina. Scowling when you saw the disapproving eyebrow arch of his when the both of you exited the cab at the dingy place. He let you guide him inside, the place was reminiscent of 79's. You walked up to the counter to order drinks surprised when he followed you up.

"Corellian Whiskey," he said before you got the chance to speak.

You arched an eyebrow, "Make that two," you said putting the credits down. The bar tender took them and handed both of you the shots, downing them you both did another around. Crosshair tapped for two more before both of you wandered off to a nearby table.

"Why this place?"

"Just call me sentimental."

"This is boring," Crosshair murmured feeling out of place without a talkative group.

"Dance?" you asked nonchalantly remembering how at peace he seemed on the dance floor.

"Don't have to ask me twice," he said getting out of the seat.

"Actually if you remember, I did."

"You have two left feet and no rhyme."

"You were slow dancing to techno."

"And?"

You rolled your eyes, a pit forming in your stomach at how easy the banter was after all this time realizing how deeply you missed it. Staying on the outskirts of the floor both of you had fallen into step, thankful that your feet remembered even if your mind had almost forgotten saving you the embarrassment of stepping on him. The touch of his hands where cool in contrast with the fire in his gaze. You removed one of your hands from his placing it on his waist and he responded in kind doing the same. His fingers slide up your shirt just barely to where his thumb and index finger rested on your skin, solidifying you were really there. You moved your hand up to his neck letting your fingers dip under the turtle neck barely.

Cautiously Crosshair took one step closer hovering above your face, "Cyar'ika," he whispered ignoring the harshness of the alcohol on his tongue leaning in letting his mouth hover over yours.

"I think you drank a little to much," you whispered but didn't pull back.

"No," he whispered letting his whole hand trail up to your curve while his mouth bridged the tantalizing gap. His mouth was desperately locking with yours, almost a year apart had almost made him forget the sensation of you.

You pulled away panting, "You can't be kissing me like that in public," the words came out slurred not due to the alcohol but the mind numbing sensation of him.

"I can and will," he said pulling your mouth back to his.

You felt the gentle pressure of his tongue press against your lips, your heart was already going light speed but you opened your mouth for him. You let his tongue explore as much as he needed it too, gently time to time nipping down on his tongue playfully. By the time he pulled away your hand was trembling on his neck. Both of you were panting as you looked at each other. Without realizing it you had started crying, "Crosshair." His arms were around you in a moment guiding you away from the crowded dance floor towards an empty both. You watched him flag down the service droid for some napkins. Your fingers bunched the shoulder of his shirt, you wanted to hate yourself for needing him after everything you've witnessed but there was nothing else in this galaxy that could fill the void in your chest except his presence.

Gently his hand covered yours, "What do you need?" He had never been a comforting person, less so now but he always tried.

Your fingers unbunched his shirt just enough to barely pound his shoulder with the side of your hand before you talon cling to the fabric again, "Are you really... Crosshair...?" you choked out.

"Unless you know someone else with that name," he verbalized pressing his teeth together.

"Are you... my Crosshair," you clarified.

"Since day one."

~ Days of the Republic; Reassignment ~

The Corellian Well Cantina, you scoffed at the name as you pushed open the unfamiliar door. Spirits burnt the hairs of your nostrils with the spiced scent of whiskey and poorly mopped up over indulgences. The lighting was less then ideal for this priority meeting nor the atmosphere but discretion had been of the utmost importance for whatever reason. Taking in the clientele you didn't see any familiar facial features of the man you were looking for. Playing on your data pad trying to pass time until you heard the familiar clone voice standing at the end of the table. Shocked you blinked rapid finding him in civilian clothing, one's that definitely were borrowed, and a poor fitted hat but the face, the voice and the scar killed the doubt of who was standing before you.

"Com- Cody," you whispered motioning for him to sit.

"Sorry for all the secrecy," he said scooting in besides you, "but this unfortunately requires it for the time being," he passed you a data pad, "You're being reassigned to a Kaminoan black ops squad, Experimental Unit 99, effective immediately as their handler."

"Sir?! My other-."

"Everything has already been taken care of. We head to Kamino when your finished reading."

"Do you vouch for this?" you stared into the eyes of best man and friend you've known since joining GAR.

"I have taken them personally on black list missions. Their not like my men and I, their wild and unorthodoxed but unquestionable resolve, determination and they get results we need. I vouch for them and you taking this assignment."

You nodded turning on the pad, eyes going wide reading about their individual enhancements, "I didn't even know that was possible," you were aware that commando's were made differently and enhanced but nothing like this. Barely done reading Cody was already tugging on your sleeve to leave. You followed him with your face still in the pad reading their personality profiles scowling once you read Crosshair's, "He's going to be fun," you grumbled.

"Crosshair?" Cody smirked seeing the small nod.

"Trust me, you've worked with Neyo. Crosshair pale's in comparison."

"Is this my apology for you assigning me that asshole?" You deadpanned.

"More or less, these boys could change the tide in this war. However their.. lack of people skills and lack of following direct orders posses a problem."

"Which is why I'm going to be the diplomatic buffer," you sighed, "You're lucky you're my favorite."

The jump to Kamino was silent, by then the Commander had stripped himself of the civvies back into his white and orange armor, "They'll be making their debut soon, with you officially now on this assignment I wouldn't be surprised if they moved it up but it'll give you time to meet them."

You've been on Kamino before but the path you were taking was foreign. It was the service passages, 99... you bowed your head for a moment of silence for the man who once roamed these halls. Catching back up to the Commander you saw he was thinking about him too, the stern expression but the distance in his eyes. He was just letting his body just guide him through his halls. "I'm glad you trusted me for this assignment," the interruption was enough to pull him out of his head as you recalled that he was here at the bold attack of Kamino.

"They won't be here much longer as their getting our own barrack room with everyone else," Commander Cody knocked on the ancient door before letting the both of you in. They were already standing at attention when the both of you entered, "Woman in company," he said your name then repeated each of there's as a formality even though you had already read their files, "At ease," quickly they relaxed sitting back at the large table in the center, "All of your stuff is in the room next door."

You rolled your eyes, "Of course it is."

"I'm the sarcastic one," you looked up to see the grey haired man rolling a toothpick to the other side of his mouth smirking eying you over the dismantled weapon he was cleaning.

"Technically she wasn't being sarcastic but-"

"Shut up," Crosshair grumbled.

"Tech's head is full of knowledge he likes to dump at every opportune moment, you'll get use to it," Hunter said studying you trying to get accustom to your scent and sound, "or use to drowning it out."

"That knowledge has saved our lives on multiple occasions-."

"We get it four eyes," Crosshair said flicking his tooth at his brother who batted it away without looking. He returned his attention for the most part back to the weapon keeping you in his peripheral vision amused that Wrecker ran over picking you up squeezing you before dropping you back down.

"Huh, you're small."

"Astute as always, Wrecker," Crosshair grumbled.

"Everyone is small compared to you," you pointed out smiling.

"That's true," Wrecker admitted going back to his seat.

"There all yours," Cody laughed, "Boy's, this your personally assigned liaison. Since you don't have a chain of command to report to, she'll be the middle man."

"I am quiet capable of handling and reporting our assignments," Tech said defensively.

"What does this civvie know about the war?" Crosshair said pointedly.

"This civvie," you said curtly, "has been apart of GAR probably longer then your creation, so really what do you know about this war?" you tossed back.

"She's served with the 91st Mobile Reconnaissance Corps during the Battle of Geonosis and as aid of the 212th since. I expect you to treat her respect," Cody eyed him.

"Crosshair didn't mean any disrespect ma'am," Hunter tossed a glare at his brother.

"I've had read his file, I am aware of his quips but thank you."

"Good luck," Commander laughed, "I have to get back, I'll send Neyo your regards."

"You can send him to hell instead," rapidly batting your lashes at him.

"He's already going there," Cody coughed under his breath waving as he left.

Hunter at pulled out another chair offering you a place to sit. He hadn't taken his eyes off of you since you entered the room. None of them had been around female nat borns as all of their instructors had been males and even when they had gone off world on assignment they mostly ran into separatist forces. On the occasional they had ran into the native inhabitants Commander Cody had dealt with them and Tech for his helmet translator. Hearing Tech whisper that staring was impolite, he finally turned his attention back to the vibro blade he had been sharpening.

"This is weird," Wrecker nervously chuckled.

"There is nothing we can do, we must accept her assimilation into this squad and continue," Tech replied trying the chess board, singly playing it by himself as that was the only way it was stimulating, "Perhaps some training simulations to test her aptitude in combat?" Tech purposed.

"Let's show her how a real squad handles themselves," Crosshair smiled reassembling his fire puncher.

"Practice or live rounds?" you folded your arms over your chest.

"Li-," Crosshair started before Hunter interjected, "Practice."

"Boring," you scoffed, "I'll grab my gear, sim room 2b good enough?"

"Yes that shall suffice," Tech nodded standing up from him game grabbing his helmet off his buck.

You saw Hunter cock an eyebrow when you said boring but before he got a chance to question it you turned dipping into the room next store, smirking when your armor attachments had already been laid out. Cody had probably assumed this was going to happen sooner or later. You flicked on the familiar armor sliding the various weapons into place. Each of them were already armored up by the time you were done and waiting outside the room, "I would have caught up."

"Sure," Crosshair said sarcastically.

"I'm not the old man," you shrugged pointing at the silver peppered with night and salted with light hair much to his offense.

"Haha she called you old," Wrecker said clapping his brothers back.

You noticed the glaring squint in his eye as you entered the training room, "I'll take west, you take east end?" you smiled at the sniper, who only rolled his eyes, "Your loss."

All of you waited in the center of the room waiting for the droids to activate. The boys were saying something but the adrenaline had already awoken shooting through your blood stream. The moment the droids activated all of you were off. Much to the annoyance of Crosshair you beat him to and up the west tower.

"Knife!" Crosshair called staring at the droid in Tech's blind spot watching you instinctively throw it at the droids head, he shot the knife watching it drop perfectly into the droids skull.

From the perch above the two of you worked in unison picking off droids, Hunter was impressed by the advanced skill. Recon officer? Hardly. He saw Crosshair eyeing you from across the battlefield, one eye on the battle field, one eye on you the whole time. There was an very noticeable shift in the group with the new addition, especially with Crosshair. Hunter felt the shot before his eyes had captured what had transpired, a droid actually climbing up to Crosshair's advantage point then you taking a shot at the droid wizzing passed Crosshair's ear. He turned for a moment watching the droid fall to the ground before returning his attention to the battle. Always watching his brothers back, he often forgot to watch his own not that he would never admit it.

Wreckers jaw slacked witnessing it, "Did you see that?" hollered to Tech.

"That's never happened before, both the droids climbing nor Crosshair missing such an obvious-."

"Shut up," Crosshair seethed through the com, thankful the simulation ended. He jumped down bouncing between the wall and the tower and sliding down to the center platform. Slinging his fire puncher across his back he watched you poorly climb down the tower and head there way. At least she doesn't have all of my tricks, Crosshair thought.

"I am impressed," Tech admitted once you had caught up.

"Marshal Commander Neyo is unrelenting in training."

"So I've read," Tech said staring at the clone's profile, "I think that simulation has provided me with enough data that I can make an accurate assessment of your combat skills without needing another trial run."

"She got lucky," Crosshair sneered removing his helmet.

"I think you got lucky."

"Oh I haven't gotten that lucky yet" he leered in your ear walking pass sticking a toothpick between his lips.

"I wouldn't blame you for suddenly being reassigned," Hunter grimaced staring after his brother.

"I'm use to it," you shrugged staring after the enigmatic man. There was something dark stalking his uncommonly dark irises compared to his brothers, a lone predator always circling but never pouncing. While his brothers eyes echoed burning bark, Crosshair's were the color of the forest floor riddled with hidden dangers. While Neyo's eyes terrified you to even look at, Crosshair's made you want to study them whether it was face to face or under a microscope was still up for debate.

"Something in your mind?" Hunter smiled staring at your lost in thought expression.

"Huh? Oh nothing, just wondering how the boys are reacting to my reassignment."

"Your scent says different," he chuckled, "His too."

"I already hate this."

"Between Hunter's senses and our close proximity to one another, there is never any secrets between us. There is never such thing as privacy with us just so you are aware," Tech pointed out.

"You're slow," Crosshair mumbled from his bunk.

"So is your charm Cross," you said sliding back into the chair digging out your pad finding a short 'Congrats on the promotion,' from Neyo. Anything is a promotion away from you, you were tempted to type back but instead going the safe route saying thank you.

Hours later the boys were ready to turn in for the night so you excused yourself from their quarters disappearing into your own, it was cramped having an apartments worth of stuff cramped into the small space. Even though Cody or whoever had tried to perfectly replicate the set up it just hadn't felt relaxing enough to sleep. You took yourself up the ship docking bay watching the waves crash against the wall.

"Where do you think you're sneaking off too?" Crosshair mused joining you at the railing after he had discreetly slipped from the bunk room after hearing the faint opening on your door curious if you were leaving after his comment.

"Somewhere far away from you," you said sarcastically.

"You didn't go far enough," he poked back failing to hide the amusement at your witty tone relaxing that you weren't upset with him.

"Excuse me, let me just go grab my bathing suit," you rolled your eyes finding his for a moment looking into yours.

"Is it black?" he said mischievously.

"Like I'd tell you."

"I rather you show me."

"Step on a duresteal bolt," momentarily the soldier was standing in front of you glaring. The darkness consumed his eyes but sparkled his frosted hair. Long thin fingers gripped your chin, you watched as he turned shooting his toothpick into the ocean below before his attention returned to you.

"I'm the sarcastic one in this squad."

"We'll see," the comment turned his blood to a consuming flame. Crosshair wasn't use to anyone challenging him let alone anyone competent enough to keep up with them or enough to watch his back. He waited but you didn't pull back, a predatory smile tugged at his lips, "Go to bed, Cyar'ika," he pulled away, the pounding of his heart barely keeping his breathing even. His eyes caught your confusion at the sudden lack of physical contact and the pet name, "Did you think I was going to kiss you?" he let out one laugh trying to conceal the nerves threatening to spill over, "Not on the first date," he added before you had a chance to speak before weak limbed walking himself back to his bunk.

"Calling dibs?" He heard Hunter chuckle.

"Shut up," he menaced.

"Not pairing I forecasted," Tech muttered taking out his pad, "statistically you two had the lowest probability, I shall need collect further data about her."

"Shut up," Crosshair repeated.

"You would be teasing one of us, Crosshair if the roles were reversed."

"No I would be shooting one of you," he snarked, his lip twitching up into a sneer already uncomfortably with the thoughts of them being around you knowing if his mind was this clouded their's had to be the same way, "Go to bed," he growled turning towards the wall. His mind was foggy with anticipation he saw across your face regardless of his poor attitude and how perfect you looked on the tower as much as his failure to notice the droid enraged him. He was astonished at how quick you responded to the threat and didn't seem to hold the failure over his head nor hesitated coming to his defense even after his generally rude behavior. Out of all them, he was the last one who deserved a chance but he may have been cocky enough to believe he was the handsomest out of the bad batch. At some point during his self scolding he had passed out not before realizing how far he had fallen.

Crosshair pulled you out of the resurfacing memory, brushing your hair back with his hand. While he was still upset at the idea you didn't want to see him, he wasn't going to deny himself the small luxury of being touched. Once he would pulled away at the public display not wanting anyone to see the man under the suit of armor but he wasn't that young and naive anymore. Older now, he learned you could lose everything on a moments notice. While losing Kamino hadn't necessarily upset him as it had been hell for every CC not to mention dealing with the regs, his brothers betrayal had scarred him greatly.

"I don't know how you're still in there," you whispered taking in the familiar structure of his face. You let your fingers trace the tattoo around his eye which you had done thousands of times before.

Crosshair squeezed your wrist, "please stop implying I was gone," there was an edge to his voice anger or desperation he couldn't tell.

You swallowed staring at him then your wrist finding finger imprints from his grasp. Rubbing the tender spot, he placed the cold glass of water the droid had brought over with the napkins to dull the ache. He pulled the glass back after a couple minutes of silence rubbing it with his thumb before you looked back at the returned stern expression, “I’m okay Cross…”

“I’m going for a walk, alone,” he said sliding out, “Stay here.” Crosshair ran his hand against the hideous scar which set his teeth on edge. Nothing but a disfigured monster, he thought, I’m a soldier bred for war and for a purpose of bringing peace, kark the empire for the chips but this is what we were all made for in the end. Crosshair carefully walked down the street eyeing every land mark so he could back track. Thoughts darted through his mind like a native mon calamari bouncing between water currents. Every thought making his skull rattle from one bouncing thought to another. He had prayed that the solitude would help but it had the opposite effect leaving him more confused and angry.

You sat alone for eternity before letting the batch know that for now you were safe and fine. Smiled when Echo replied instantly that they all missed you and to keep them appraised when you could. Peering out the black out blinds you noticed the light was rapidly suddenly setting like the feeling in your gut about how long he had been gone and that you had no way to get ahold of him. Peering around the now crowded space, you noticed a couple wandering gazing on you further making you anxious wondering if it was because you were beautiful or because they had seen your photo on a most wanted holo. You couldn’t risk finding out, carefully you ducked out of the building before awkwardly waiting out front for a little while longer to no avail. In the past, you had etched the layout of this city into your cortex of Cross was loss you would find him. Just that one day sitting in that cantina had change your life, sure the structure and discipline of your previous assignments had been nice but there had been something so liberating about the change and meeting the batch. Meeting Crosshair. Knowing his eyes you walked opposite of the sun. Your eyes scanned each side alley way with no sign until you looked down finding a single tooth pick.

“Toothprick,” you muttered, continuing your path making sure to periodically look down every handful of paces. You found him slumped up in one of the only trees near the hotel staring towards the sunset, “Get lost, Loth-cat?” you asked.

“I told you to stay there,” he replied flatly staring at the array of colors in the sky.

“And how long ago was that?”

“Lost track of time,” he admitted rubbing his scalp. One leg tucked to his chest with his elbow resting on it touching his head, one leg outstretched and his other hand laid across his lap, he realize he probably looked like a mess. Forcibly straightening out he looked down finding the concern in your eyes, he sighed hoping down landing gracefully on his feet tucking his hands in his pocket. “What are you looking at,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow, “You, Loth-cat,” you teased at his sniper’s fondness of being off the ground, “You look good up there.”

“I bet I look even better above you,” he quipped reflexively but his tone didn’t match the words.

You hovered close to him not trying to interrupt his mind, “Back to the hotel?”

Crosshair’s gaze lingered on the setting story of the day, his mind, stomach and heart twisted at his decision wondering if at the end of the day if it was the what was best for the both of you or the galaxy. He offered a single stiff nod matching your pace with his calculated steps so every step fell into sync. Using the corners of his eyes, he watched your pondering expression, “What?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t want me to climb up there with you,” you fibbed.

“Liar.”

“I don’t remember you being this moody, well unless it was in a fun way.”

“Why do you keep trying to force me to be who I was?” he snapped, “Can’t you just accept me for who I am now?” his head feeling like it was going to split at that ugly seam, “This is who I am,” he added flattening his tone. The rest of the walk to the hotel in pain filled silence.

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goshdangronpa · 11 months

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The case is closed. The victim is avenged. The killer is executed. Further plots twists have been revealed. We’ve reached the end of Chapter 1 in “I DISAGREE: An Ibuki Mioda SDR2 Protag Swap AU,” but it’s not over just yet. Danganronpa games always close out each chapter with a little something extra, and this project will be no different. I think that after all that death and destruction, something light and sweet is needed. (This is a long one.)

We’ll Make It Another Night: Ending Chapter 1 with a Sleepover

Focusing on the positives can be tough, even for someone as positive as Ibuki Mioda. It’s not like that positivity’s done her much good on this island. She tried her best to bring some good vibes into a bad situation, but it stopped being so effective as things got worse. She did what she could to make a difference with the disease patients, but lives were still lost. Even when she saved the day by making so many key contributions to the trial, the reward for her efforts was a decidedly hopeless death for poor Kazuichi.

What hurts most might be what happened with Mikan. Her free time events with Hajime in SDR2 show that she strives to break down people’s defenses and bring out the beautiful soul within. She tried doing that for arguably the person hiding behind the most defense mechanisms in the group. She made some real breakthroughs. More than that, she made the kind of friend she was hoping for when she accepted the invite to Hope’s Peak. All that now seems to be for nothing.

She starts to spiral … but, alone on a bench in Jabberwock Park, she finds someone else feeling even lousier than her.

When Byakuya Togami proclaimed himself leader of the class, he promised to protect everyone. He tried to make good on it by joining the medical staff in quarantine and watching over the island’s most vulnerable people. It ended so calamitously that his classmates accused him of committing murder for his own gain at the cost of everyone else’s lives. His stock as leader could not be any lower.

“Only a fool would still accept me as leader,” he laments, a far cry from his haughtiness.

Ibuki cheers, “Then I’m a fool for you!” She’s not just saying it to be nice.

Mikan’s not the only one she bonded with in quarantine. (Please excuse my one-ship mind.) Ibuki and Byakuya would ramble about life on the road, pester the pretentious Teruteru with requests for greasy fast food, and try to discern each other’s inner selves in long conversations. The investigation and trial saw them work as a team to root out inconsistencies, piece details together, fight false accusations, and catch the killer. Byakuya’s not used to trusting people, but he’s also never met anyone as genuine as this weird girl with no filter and baffling taste in everything. Her cheeky response is that her taste in friends includes him.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” he says, uncharacteristically self-effacing.

“Forget all that!” Ibuki shouts. “Let’s have another room party!”

Byakuya reminds her that she doesn’t have to stay in her hotel room anymore. She knows: with quarantine over, she wants to host the hangout at her cottage, make it a pajama party, and invite everyone! After all, they were planning a shindig before Monokuma threw a monkey wrench. Doing it now will give them, as well as the other volunteers and the surviving patients, a chance to finally hang out with the people who stayed at the cottages.

They send invites to every cottage. Ibuki even slides one under Mikan’s door, though she’s almost certainly staying somewhere less obvious. They go back to Ibuki’s cottage, then wait.

There’s a strong possibility that no one will come. It’s been a long and difficult day for everyone. Maybe no one’s in the mood to party.

Then, when the clock strikes 8, Sonia Nevermind comes a-knocking. The Ultimate Princess has never been to such an intimate party before, especially not as just “one of the girls.” She also likes the idea of the shindig as a way to reunite the two halves of the class, especially because she wants to cast off her role as leader of one group. Right behind her are Gundham Tanaka, who bonded with her over the past few days, and Teruteru Hanamura, who won her favor after apparently showing a more nurturing side during the crisis. That’s enough for a party, especially because the latter brought snacks!

Others come as well, and this time Ibuki’s the one getting help in seeing the bright side. Mahiru Koizumi comes with her camera, eager to finally spend time with and get candids of her quarantined peers. Despite initially dismissing the idea as silly, Hiyoko Saionji is right behind her. Akane Owari and Nekomaru Nidai believe that surviving the disease and trial is worth celebrating. Peko Pekoyama wasn’t sure about going either, but relents when Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu tells her how fun their hangouts were. She’s glad that he’s making friends ("Just a few days ago, he might've dismissed such a gathering as a waste of time ..."). Meanwhile, he’s grateful for Peko’s survival and enthusiastic to publicly celebrate their connection instead of hiding it from everyone.

That’s a lot of people in one small cottage, but Ibuki says the more, the merrier! The party goes late into the night with pizza, make-up, hairstyling, gossip, games, and waiting with permanent marker in hand to draw on the first to fall asleep (Gundham). Gradually, everyone leaves for their own cottages. Sonia wants to stay for her first sleepover experience, but Ibuki promises to do it another night.

Byakuya helps clean up. Proclaiming the party a success, he bids Ibuki good night. “Hey, you’re not escaping that easy!” she says as he touches the doorknob. “You’re staying with Ibuki tonight!” This was her plan all along, she explains. She felt bad that he was the only one who slept by himself at the Hotel Mirai. So despite what she told Sonia, a sleepover’s happening tonight after all.

“That’s a great deal of trust to place in someone during a killing game,” Byakuya says. Ibuki brushes off the notion that he would ever kill her and pinky-swears that she won’t kill him. “People will jump to conclusions when we walk out of here in the morning,” he says. She replies that people can think what they want and she wouldn’t care. “The bed’s too small for both of us to fit,” he says. Ibuki teases him for such a brazen suggestion, then affirms she was going to take the sofa anyway.

“Please stay,” she finally says. That’s when Byakuya realizes that this sleepover idea isn’t just for him. He steps away from the door. They get comfy, Byakuya in her bed, Ibuki on the sofa, and hit the lights. He’ll be sure to wake up early and return to his own cottage before the others can notice. For now, the two friends rest together.

Meanwhile, in another cottage …

Nagito broods. Ibuki and Byakuya’s invite is in his hands, but he barely notices. The boy has too much on his mind. Despite being alone, he talks aloud just to straighten out his thoughts.

“I was going to start the killing game myself. I was planning to help the Ultimates achieve a greater hope to beat back despair, even if it meant sacrificing everyone else to elevate one. But Chiaki’s murder was such a waste. There was no hope behind Kazuichi killing her. And now, Mikan … that an Ultimate could descend into despair like that is maddening! Are they all so weak? Can someone like me really count on them? Maybe … maybe …”

He lifts his left hand and finds the letter crumpled beyond recognition. He’s still ruminating as Chapter 1 of “I DISAGREE: An Ibuki Mioda SDR2 Protag Swap AU” comes to a close.

Next time: ... I'm not sure! I might add a few random notes to round out Chapter 1. I'd love to respond to questions or suggestions if anyone has any (send an ask!). I'm also strongly considering a short hiatus. I know, many a long-term fanwork has died from the creator taking pauses, but I've got other fic-related ideas simmering and I'd like to develop Ch. 2 rather than coming up with it on the fly.

This has been a ton of fun, and I'm just proud that I was able to keep up with a serialized project. Watch this tumblog and we'll see what the future brings!

PREV: Mikan Tsumiki, Ultimate Despair

NEXT: A Few Last Notes on Chapter 1

#I DISAGREE: An Ibuki Mioda SDR2 Protag Swap AU #danganronpa #super danganronpa 2 #sdr2 #goodbye despair #ibuki mioda #ultimate imposter #sonia nevermind #gundham tanaka #not really tagging the rest because they're more walk-ins than anything #watching two friends die in the morning and having a party at night is totally in line with how DR treats grief #just see this as people trying to stay positive #on that note it was important for me to show that Ibuki needs people to bring her a little positivity as well #people who give cheer need to receive it as well #between this and a fic I wrote for the upcoming Everybody Loves Hajime zine I'm really enjoying the Ultimate Imposter #looking forward to developing that character's personality #I've gotta do Chapter 2 specifically so I can bust out my ideas for Nagito Komaeda #thanks for reading this. and any of these. and anything I write.

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redheadspark · 1 year

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Hi, it's me. Can you do #1 with Jack Russell, please?

A/N - This is great! Thanks for requesting this, dear friend :)

Vow

Summary - Jack's vows move you to tears

Warnings - Just some cute fluff for Jack!

"Have you two written vows to one another?"

"Oh, oh yes!"

You watched Jack stumble a bit to grab the paper he had in his jacket pocket. Looking over at the priest, you gave him a genuine smile as he winked at you. Finally. Jack got the paper out and unfolded it rather hastily, showing his nervousness as he tried to smooth out the paper to read it. He passed and looked at you, and you smiled at him in return as you squeezed his hand on yours. Your other hand was holding the batch of flowers he bought for you, for this moment, the very moment you two wanted for some time.

"Go ahead, Jack," You urged him, seeing him grin as he cleared his throat and looked at the paper in front of him for a moment. He stood still for a moment, maybe rethinking how he was going to recite what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. You were confused, and a bit concerned and you were going to ask if he was okay. He wasn't getting cold feet, he swore head to toe he was ready for this.

Jack then crumpled the paper and let it drop to the floor. You were shocked as he took your joined hands, and cradled the one hand that was holding your flowers.

"I'm going to go from the heart," He said to you, and you felt a wave of emotions come over you as he spoke, "From the moment I met you, I knew you were it for me. I've lost so much in my life, including most of my family and other loved ones. My life is not for the faint-hearted, but you are far from that. You have brought me so much joy that I thought I lost, and you have filled it up and had it overflow. I am not the same person, and I thank you for me as my best friend and the true love of my life. Thank you for loving me, all of me, and I promise to love you with all that I am and with all that I can give,"

You were crying, not too much since you were trying to hide it. Yet Jack caught it, reaching up to catch some of the tears and he smiled sweetly at you. It was your cue to clear your own throat, channel your concentration, and take your turn at your own vow.

"Jack, I have felt lost for some time being on my own. I felt as though even the breeze could knock me over. And now as I stand here with you in front of me, holding my hands and giving me the same smile that you showed when we went on our first date, I know I have found my home. Through all of my trials and setbacks, you were there with me. You've held me in my high times and my low times, you have nourished my heart whole again after it's been broken so many times, and I hope that in every life, you are with me,"

It was Jack's turn to cry, he moved to get his own tear before you could even do it yourself. Yet you squeezed his hand tightly and felt him squeeze your hand back. This new step that you two were about to take felt so easy, so natural. Even though this was not the way you pictured your wedding, it was still just as perfect. Just you and Jack, a Priest, and a chapel that was open late in the night with some of the candles lit to set the mood.

You two sealed your love with a kiss, no thunderous applause was there but you felt it deep within yourself.

The End.

Spring Prompt Session

#jack russell x y/n #jack russell x you #jack russell x fem!reader #jack russell x reader #jack russell #werewolf by night fanfiction #werewolf by night #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel cinematic fanfiction #mcu phase 4 #mcu writing #mcu fanfiction #mcu

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foxlin-fantasia · 1 year

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🎭　What is Hanaka's role in the Tragic Play?

i was tagged by @miqomonkly ; ty! this was fun :3

i tag: @lark-mage, @followmyv0ice, @ahlis-xiv, & YOU ( if you wanna!! )

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quiz result : the desperate narrator.

this story is a cycle, and you're spinning around it like a hamster in a ball being tormented by a cat. you know how this story ends. after all, you've told it a thousand times. but you try to change it every time. you love the people in this story more than anything. so watching them fall victim to the narrative breaks you in a way you can't begin to describe. but all you can do is tell the story ─ their story ─ with tears in your eyes. you're prone to anxiety and feelings of helplessness. you have so much love in your heart, and for once you wish it would change something. it didn't. it doesn't. it won't. but you refuse to stop telling the story. and you refuse to stop loving the people in it. in this way, no one is stronger than you. you just wish being strong hurt less.

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( ngl, the thoughts i had from this made me feel like: )

( keep reading more for my nonsense lol )

🌸　aaa, this reads heavily as the lingering traits / feelings of her Azem and how her WoL journey has effected her. pls enjoy! ( i have just recently rly gotten comfortable working on Hanaka's Azem! i felt like i had to know a bit more about the world & Hana herself before giving it a real effort lol )

🌸　The ‘desperate narrator’ vibe is very accurate; i can see it in a particular scene I’ve been working on for writing stuffs!

🌸　Hanaka and her Azem are linked, sharing memories between one another in my lore; they both experience various memories from the lives of one another when they sleep. It happens sporadically, and like most dreams, details become hazy once awake.

🌸　Despite experiencing the more pleasant or mundane parts Azem’s life sporadically in her dreams, Hanaka has a reoccurring nightmare that started in her youth: the night of fiery skies, where she would watch a familiar city burn down from a distance. Hanaka would fight everything to move from her stationary spot, to run, to help, to hide, but she could never change the dream… After all that happens in EW, she learns it was just a memory. ( glimpse of the final days from Azem’s perspective )

🌸　Experiencing her own tragedies on her journey has made Hanaka more emotional and she cries easily, an honest trait she has had since childhood. Now, it’s more like a nervous habit to cry. Her anxiety went off the charts during ShB and didn’t really stop until post-EW.

🌸　As the chosen of Hydaelyn, it only makes sense that her champion tie herself up in knots over the fate of the star. She has endless respect and love for her allies, and high hopes for all of the people of Etheirys, even after experiencing the trials of her journey and witnessing the mess that is humanity. Hanaka does wither at times. When beaten down and at her lowest, even she can fracture and break, yet she will always return to her role as hero with the knowing her loved ones are waiting for her and their adventures are still being written.

🌸　Like the quiz result says: “so watching them fall victim to the narrative breaks you in a way you can't begin to describe… but you refuse to stop telling the story. and you refuse to stop loving the people in it.”

🌸　( who hurt you *gently touches photo of Hanaka* )

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thesummerstorms · 2 years

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Rev’s Favorite MXTX Fics (1/2)

Heaven Official’s Blessing

’Til our compass stands still by edenwolfie

After getting lost in Ghost City, Xie Lian bargains away years of servitude to the Gambler’s Den to help a man in need. He dons the robes of a worker and hides his face and life behind an enchanted mask, protecting himself from the city's denizens. Xie Lian finds an unexpected home in Ghost City before he ever sees the lord of it, the infamous Hua Cheng. When he finally does, something about himself seems to catch the attention of the Ghost King, slowly striking up an unusual friendship. Xie Lian must figure out how to navigate his burgeoning feelings, how to keep his identity to himself, and how to get over a ghost so clearly in love with someone else.

the ghost king's bride by arahir

Ghosts won't stop giving Xie Lian flowers, Hua Cheng won't stop teasing, and Xie Lian is out here doing his best, man.

Aren't Alright by Boomchick

It’s been over a week since Xie Lian checked in which, for Mu Qing, is about the longest silence since the one that lasted 800 years. He should probably be glad for the quiet, but instead…

Instead he calls in Feng Xin’s help, and goes to see what’s wrong.

He should have expected this, honestly.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing arrive at the house on Mt. Taicang to find Xie Lian 8 years old both in body and mind. The main problem? Xie Lian isn’t the only one who’s 8 years old. What are two gods to do with a Hong Hong-er?

Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System:

I Wish You Were My Husband by Feynite

AU based on The Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir (familiarity with that story's not required).

Wherein Shen Yuan transmigrates into a harem intrigues romance novel (gay edition), Yue Qingyuan really fucks up, Liu Qingge is not suitable for his job, and no one even remotely sees Luo Binghe coming.

Metagaming by esama

[Self-Saving System Activated! You will be now returned to your original starting position.]

Shen Qingqiu dies and gets a second chance and decides to try a different approach.

Character Optimisation by esama

[Bonus mission, "Me, Myself and I" is now available. Would you like to activate the mission?]

Shen Qingqiu tries to sort himself out. Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge try to help.

pure white and snow-bright by AMereDream

The first time you are used by old hands but a new soul, it is out of pure curiosity. One hand on your scabbard, one hand on your hilt, and a soft gasp of delight at the sight of your beauty. You preen. You are a beautiful thing, and you know it.

The second time you are used by old hands but a new soul, you kill a man.

(Or, you are Xiu Ya. Perhaps that is not what you were in the past, but it is what you are now.)

Sit With Your Soul by Tossawary

The original Shen Qingqiu suffers a severe deviation that unsettles his daemon, transforming them into a childish and inconstant creature, too curious and without any memories of the life that has made him so bitter. His soul is now unrecognizable to him and everyone can see his humiliation.

Shen Yuan isn't exactly happy to have transmigrated into Proud Immortal Demon Way at all, much less as this doomed scum villain's daemon.

A His Dark Materials Fusion AU.

when at first i learned to speak (i used all my words to fight) by xfrinz

Xiao Jiu doesn't know where he is, but he doesn't need to know where he is to not trust it. The only person that Xiao Jiu trusts is Qi-ge.

AKA: Another Shen Qingqiu De-Aging Fic

You came to me through the green of a forest by namio

...I woke, and the low moon’s glimmer on a rafter Seemed to be your face, still floating in the air.

A gentle laugh, inky reeds upon a white fan. This is a figure he will never see again, Liu Qingge realizes.

The Many Trials and Tribulations of Ming Fan by The Feels Whale

Ming Fan just wants to get through ONE supervised night hunt without this happening.

Or: the one where Shen Qingqiu continues to be attractive to people who aren’t Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge. It's a problem.

---

“Da-shixiong.” Ning-shimei’s groan was barely audible to anyone who didn’t have a cultivator’s enhanced senses. To him and the rest of their assembled siblings, though, it rang out like a bell. The only one who didn’t notice was Shizun. He was up ahead and deep in conversation with the Lord who’d summoned them to investigate a series of local disappearances.

“I saw,” Ming Fan sighed. “Eyes front. Everyone knows their roles.”

Frankly, he’d been braced for this moment since he’d asked around about the family hosting them for the duration of this investigation. He’d discovered that they had two marriage-aged daughters in the household, neither of whom were engaged.

Help! My Boss is a Bitch. by x_los

Shen Yuan was born to be Reviewer 2. Decades after his marriage, Empress Shen Qingqiu is living his best life at the entire demonic civil service's expense.

Grasping a Kite with Broken String by yamabuki_kana (cygnisor)

Despite how hard Shen Qingqiu tries to hide it, everyone knows how he mourns for Luo Binghe's loss in the Immortal Alliance Conference.

Liu Qingge tries to help him.

Tongfang by The Feels Whale

Shen Yuan is reincarnated as a cannon fodder character and eventual murder victim in one of the whodunnit arcs in Proud Immortal Demon Way. Things escalate quickly.

Or: that one where young Luo Binghe’s career goal is ‘Bride’.

#SVSSS #TGCF #Fic Recs #I only have like... five fics bookmarked for TGCF #so not many recs there #It's just not a story I feel the need to read much fic for

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forgedroyalseal · 1 year

Text

My Reputation’s Never Been Worse

Chapter 10

A/N: I just reread this entire work and I think I forgot just how much I love this story. Your support of it means the world and I am determined to not let other projects with large fan bases (and therefore gain more traffic) get in the way of this one. This is one of my favorite chapters and I hope you enjoyed. I literally wrote it in a matter of hours today.

Halt was waiting for Will outside of the suite. “You should have told me she was sick.” Will said cooly.

“And when did you give me the opportunity to do so?” Halt replied evenly.

“You should have told me.” He repeated.

“I don’t think you understand how much of a shook it was to see you this morning Will. My mind hasn’t strung two thoughts together since I saw you.”

Will frowned, he didn’t know how to respond to that. Pauline had told him to make peace with Halt, and he would, he had to now. He knew he’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t honor her wishes. But every time he saw Halt, all he could picture was his face at the trial. The brutal hate and angry directed at him. That face had haunted more of his dreams than he’d like to admit. How did he just let that go? How did he forgive and move on?

Instead of dwelling any longer on his internal debate, he switched the topic. “I should find Nyah and Miles. We need to figure out where we are going to sleep.”

Halt undoubtedly recognized Will’s sudden change of subject, but he went along with it. “There are more than enough rooms for you all here.”

“The last time I spent the night here I woke up to my execution. I won’t sleep within these wall’s tonight.”

“Fine, then stay at the inn.”

Will swallowed awkwardly. “I’m not sure that’s an option for the three of us at the moment. It’s fine, we can camp outside, it should be a clear night.”

“Why don’t you just stay at the inn? I’m sure they have at least two rooms available, it’s not as if there is a special occasion drawing people to the town.”

“It’s not a question of if the room are open, we just, well, Miles and I worked for room and board in Eisel. And Nyah hasn’t had spare coin for as long as I’ve known her.” Will admitted, trying his best to not feel ashamed. He was a hard worker and responsible with money, but any money he had managed to save in the past few years had been stolen when he first came to Eisel. After that, he had to make do with what he was given.

“I see. Well I’d be more than happy to-“

“I won’t take your money Halt.” Will interrupted.

“Why not? What am I going to do with it?”

“Save it for your golden years, they aren’t far off.”

_________________________________

That night, Will, Miles, and Nyah set up camp just outside of the palace’s walls. Miles crashed the moment he hit the ground, the stress of being in such a wildly different environment than what he was used to catching up with him. Nyah stayed awake for a while. She wordlessly studied Will’s face in the flickering light of the campfire. Finally she softly said, “They all love you so much. They, they are your family. There are a lot of people who would kill for what you have here. Don’t let your anger throw it all away.” Before Will could respond, she rolled over, facing away from him, and fell asleep.

Left in silence with his thoughts, Will looked up to the stars. Over the past five years, he had spent countless nights gazing at the heavens. The constellations had become his faithful companions, keeping him company whether he was hiding deep in the forest sick with fever, or being lulled to sleep on the deck of a ship. When he was a child Baron Arald had spent many nights pointing constellations out to the ward children. Horace and the girls had little interest in the evening walks, always complaining that they wanted to go to bed and while George appreciated the time to study the sky, he couldn’t care less about the stories that the Baron attached to each patter of stars. But Will treasured those nights. He’d give Arald his undivided attention, eagerly listening to the tales of heroes and monsters. His favorite was the story of Perseus. Will wanted desperately to grow up to be just like the legend. To protect his loved ones, slay the monster, and save the princess. Staring up at the twinkling constellation, Will felt a tear roll down his face. He had fallen so far from the heroes of his childhood. Now all he saw in the mirror was a wicked monster with black eyes and a blacker soul staring back at him. Seeing Pauline had dug up shame and guilt that he thought he had buried years ago. But her gentle, undying love had melted the ice that had hardened his conscious. She loved him, even when he didn’t love himself. Horace and Cassandra had seen him in Elisel, had seen the darkness that surrounded him like a cloak, and yet they were still holding him close. And Halt seemed desperate to mend the broken bond between them. Nyah’s words echoed in his head all night. Maybe it was possible to come back for good. Maybe their love would be enough. Or maybe, once the novelty of his presence wore off, they’d all realize he had fallen too far from grace for them to drag back to the pedestal they had once placed him on.

Will spent the night tossing and turning, dreaming of running through an endless black forest, skeletal hands reaching out for him. When dawn finally broke, he woke with a searing pain in his hip. His gasp woke Nyah, who hurried over to his side. He was taut with pain and his palms were dug into his eyes.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Hip.” He said through gritted teeth. “Malcolm’s salve. Satchel.” Nyah rummaged through his bag until she found the jar of pain reliving cream Malcom had gifted Will after learning of how severe his pain could be from the old injury. “Hurry up.” He groaned.

Nyah rolled her eyes, “Always so bossy.” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes gave her worry away. She knew that he wasn’t in any danger, just pain, but it still stressed her to see him suffer.

_______________________________

Alyss, Cassandra, and Horace all met at the castle gate just as the sun was beginning to rise.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Cassandra asked them.

Alyss shook her head and Horace said, “I spent the entire night wondering if he’d still be here in the morning. I’m on my way to check.”

The three friends made their way to Will’s campsite. As they approached, they heard a low groan. Hurrying closer they saw Will laying on the ground, arms pressed over his head. His pants were unbuckled and pulled down to his hipbones. Nyah leaned over him, hand disappearing somewhere below his pants.

“I guess they are a little more than friends.” Horace remarked, unsure how to proceed. He glanced over to Alyss, who’s face was bright red and her eyes were cast down to the ground. Cassandra on the other hand had zero hesitation as she marched right up to the pair.

“Good morning to you both.“ She announced loudly.

Nyah’s head whipped up. “Your Highness! We were just, um…” She looked down the Will for support, but he just threw his arm over his eyes.

“It looks like he’s having a great morning already Cassie.” Horace smirked as he walked up besides Cassandra, Alyss staying slightly behind.

“Get your head out of the gutter Horace, it’s not what you think.” Will grumbled. He stood slowly and Nyah pulled her hand back, but kept it hovering by his side as she rose with him. Now that he was standing, Horace, Cassandra, and Alyss could clearly see the angry, knotted scar tissue on his hip, just above where his pants were resting dangerously low on his hips.

“I woke up in some really bad pain, must have slept on my hip.” He gestured to the injury. “Nyah was putting some ointment on it. Nothing so salacious as what you had in mind.” Will’s eyes fell on Alyss, noticing her presence for the first time that morning. A faint blush cast itself on his checks and he cleared his throat. “Anyway, what are you three doing here? Making sure I didn’t make a run for it in the middle of the night?”

“Exactly.” Cassandra affirmed without a trace of guilt.

Will scratched at his brow, “Well I guess I can’t blame you. But I promise, until I know that everything is settled in Eisel, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Except to the breakfast table, I’m starving.” Horace said.

Will pulled a shirt on and readjusted his pants, securing them over his scar with his discarded belt. “We just need to pack up. Nyah, you mind waking Miles up?” Will started to roll up his blanket and Nyah gently kicked Miles’ in the ribs.

“Let’s go find out what royalty eats for breakfast sleepyhead.” She says as Miles rubs sleep out of his eyes.

“Huh?” He blinked up to see Horace, Alyss, and Cassandra hovering around the campsite. His eyes fly open and he scrambles to his feet.

“Oh um, your royalnesses. I mean, majesties, or, something…”

“Horace and Cassandra is fine, that goes for the both of you.” Horace smiles.

Nyah grins at him. “Wow, I’m on a first name basis with royalty? Who would’ve thought?”

“Yeah it’s a pretty big deal.” Horace teased.

Cassandra looks between them. She knew that Horace would never imagine being unfaithful, but they had just walked in on Nyah having her hand shoved down his best friend’s pants, which apparently got Horace’s mind thinking things it, in Cassandra’s opinion, has no right thinking. She laced her arm with Horace’s, an action she saw Nyah clock and take note of the intention. Smiling Nyah took a step back and threw her pack over her shoulder. She offered Cassandra a slight, but meaningful nod of acknowledgement. The interaction surprised Cassandra. She frankly hadn’t expected the girl to be so aware and respectful of Cassandra’s feelings. It made her feel guilty for how she’s been thinking about Nyah, and she determined that she would be better at not reading into Nyah’s intentions.

#rangers apprentice #ranger's apprentice #will treaty #ranger’s apprentice fanfiction #rangers apprentice fanfiction #guilty until proven innocent #my reputations never been worse #reputation

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cavalierious-whim · 9 months

Text

Green-Eyed Boy (Neuvithesley)

Part of 'Tea and Paperwork'.

Wriothesley is tired of seeing others hang off of Neuvillette so he proposes a late-night fuck on one of the hallway couches.

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Neuvillette doesn’t even notice.

The woman leans a little too close under the guise showing him something on a report. She feigns tripping, apologizing as her ample bosom brushes against his forearm. Her shirt is low-cut, the line of her cleavage in full display, contradicting the more conservative style most women adopt in Fontaine.

Neuvillette is too kind, reaching out to steady her by the elbow. “Miss, watch it,” he says, resulting in the woman cooing and fawning as she thanks him for his supposed heroism.

Wriothesley is not a jealous man, and yet—

“You know, for all the teasing about Melusines being naive,” says Sedene from his left, shooting him a wry grin. “It’s insufferable, isn’t it?”

“Is this a common occurrence?”

Sedene blinks placidly. “Would you feel better if I said no?”

No, he would not. “You’re terrible at lying,” says Wriothesley.

“Then I suppose I should tell you there’s a whole gaggle of women—”

“On second thought, don’t.”

It is a little condescending when Sedene reaches out to rub Wriothesley's shoulder, even if she means to comfort him genuinely. “For the record, he’s never noticed anyone’s attempts at flirting. Not even yours.”

Well, that’s true. Wriothesley hides a laugh by clearing his throat. “Right. Oh, look, this report. Was this a good trial?”

Sedene rolls her eyes but Wriothesley finds himself eased. And, it’s not as if Neuvillette will run off with another. There is, at least, that.

So, now that Sedene has said it, Wriothesley sees it everywhere.

Women and men, older and younger folk, and even a Melusine, of all things. And Neuvillette is just… too fucking polite, all genteel propriety as he unknowingly gives into their whims. Fingers ghosting arms as he steadies someone after an errant step. Leaning in as they point to something he must look at. Mutters of fuzzies in his hair as a person reaches out to touch.

Wriothesley may or may not have snapped a pen in half. He may have casually crafted a knife out of Cryo, running his finger down the edge, and definitely didn't think about slitting a throat or two.

It is late now. The Opera Epiclese is quiet, running on one step below a skeleton crew. Wriothesley finally catches sight of Neuvillette strolling through the halls with a folder in his hand.

“Wriothesley—Oh.”

Wriothesely tugs him into a dark hallway that’s been empty since lunchtime. He boxes Neuvillette against the wall, pressing close and yanking his face down for a biting kiss. Neuvillette stiffens, but then gives in, tilting his face back to nip at Wriothesley's mouth.

“Not to complain,” he drawls when he pulls back, “but should I remind you that we’re in the middle of the Opera Epiclese?”

Wriothesley tries to kiss him again but Neuvillette holds his face firmly. “Let them watch,” he finally says, turning to bite at Neuvillette’s fingers. “Maybe they should. All day I’ve—”

“All day you’ve what?” Then, Neuvillette’s nose twitches, having caught a scent. He leans close, inhaling near the juncture of Wriothesley's neck. “Beloved,” he murmurs, “there is nothing to be jealous about.”

“I know.” Wriothesley doesn’t mean to sound so aggravated. He grunts as Neuvillette kisses his neck, trying to soothe him, but Wriothesley is too on edge. “I—it’s just the way that they look at you even though they know.”

It is no secret who warms Neuvillette’s bed. They may not parade each other around but everyone knows. They’ve seen the gifts and shared lunches; the too-long tea breaks and how Wriothesley makes personal visits more frequently now than in the past. It should be obvious and that’s what irritates Wriothesley so much.

Neuvillette sighs and kisses him again, slower, sweeter, his tongue tracing the seam of Wriothesley's mouth to coax it open. Too soft. Wriothesley loves it, loves him, yes, but it’s too little, too gentle. He wants more, fingers curling into Neuvillette’s hair, yanking at it. He kisses back with his teeth, sinking them into Neuvillette’s bottom lip.

A grunt. Neuvillette pulls back and gives him a searing gaze, his eyes glowing pale in the dark corridor. “You healed it,” says Wriothesely, dragging his thumb across Neuvillette’s lip, wishing he’d left it behind so that everyone else could see. A claim. He wants, he needs a claim.

“You worry over the silliest things.”

“What if I smelled like you?”

“Wriothesley, I don’t care—”

“What if you smelled like me?”

“Wriothesley.”

“Can you fuck me here?”

Neuvillette sucks in a breath. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“How is this any different than your office?”

“It’s public,” hisses Neuvillette.

“You still haven’t said no.”

Neuvillette sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. But when Wriothesley guides him to the abandoned couch he puts up no fight, dropping against the cushions with a soft trill in his throat. “Beloved,” he murmurs when Wriothesley settles across his lap, knees digging into the seat on either side of his thighs.

“Come on—”

“I—”

“Still not a no.” Wriothesley gives him a sly grin before tugging Neuvillette’s hand to settle against his ass.

Which Neuvillette doesn’t remove, squeezing at the muscle instead. “You are—”

“You love me.”

“Yes.”

“So fuck me,” says Wriothesley, cupping Neuvillette’s cheeks. “No one else is here.”

At least, no one should be; this late at night there are a few guards outside, a secretary downstairs, and then usually Neuvillette in his office. These upper floors are abandoned outside of trials and the hustle and bustle of regular days, so… they should be able to get away with it.

Neuvillette is weak; his other hand rests against Wriothesley's waist, thumb dipping into the waistband of his trousers. “An absurd request,” he says. And despite the comment, he pulls Wriothesley's shirt from his trousers. Neuvillette’s hand is hot against the small of Wriothesley's back as it rests there. “Needy boy.”

“Yeah. For you.” Wriothesley tips forward to kiss him again.

This time, Neuvillete indulges, slipping him tongue. That hand wanders, fingers sinking into Wriothesley's waistband, tracing the scars there.

Wriothesley grinds down moaning as their cocks brush together. Neuvillette is hard to—how can he be not? Wriothesley grins against his mouth as if he’s won a fight. “Go on,” he says, “touch me.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” replies Neuvillette, his hand slipping in entirely. A finger dips between Wriothesley's asscheeks, pressing against his hole. Already slick around the tip. Blessed be Hydro, thinks Wriothesley as he just smirks back.

“Who knew you could be kinky?”

Neuvillette huffs. “Would you have taken no for an answer?”

“No.”

“Case in point.” Neuvillette’s finger sinks in to the second knuckle, stealing Wroithesely’s breath away.

The sting is delicious. Wriothesley drags his hips down, riding it, forcing it deeper. Neuvillette gives in so sweetly, fucking him open on one, and then two fingers. It’s too quiet in the hall; the wet squelch of his hand is loud. Neuvillette glances to the side, watching the end of the corridor. A line splits his brow in worry.

“Hey, look at me,” demands Wriothesley, pulling Neuvillette’s face back to him. “Don’t worry.”

“I—”

“Am I tight? Do I feel good?”

“Wriothesley.”

“Your cock would be better. Wouldn’t that be fun? To fuck here? Think about it—only we would know. We’d think about it every time we pass by this couch during the day. You’d smell it too—”

“Wriothesley.”

Oh, Wriothesley knows that look. Neuvillette’s pupils are narrowly slit and draconian. He’s two fingers deep and squeezes at an asscheek with his other hand. He considers it. Weighs his options. Oh, he likes that thought.

“Sweetheart,” says Wriothesley, knowing it’ll annoy him. And then his voice quiets as he dips closer, nipping at Neuvillette’s mouth. A hand drops between them and squeezes at Neuvillette’s cock, hard and aching. He fumbles with the fastenings of those trousers, and Neuvillette doesn’t stop him; he just flares his nostrils and lets Wriothesley do as he wishes, pulling out his stiff cock. Wriothesley thumbs across the tip, collects the precome, and brings it to his mouth for a taste. “Baby.”

Neuvillette whines when Wriotheslely pulls away, only to turn around on his lap. He raises his hips, shucking off his trousers just enough to free his ass and cock.

“Wriothesley—”

“Please,” cuts in Wriothesley, already reaching for Neuvillette’s cock with a spit-slick hand. He gives it a rough, quick stroke that has Neuvillette hissing.

“Yes, okay, okay—”

Wriothesley leans back and sinks onto his cock. Thick. Long. He leans back when he bottoms out, bracing his weight against Neuvillette underneath him. And Neuvillette—Oh. His hands curl around Wriothesley's waist, yanking him down, grinding his cock deep.

A groan. Neuvillette tilts his face and presses a kiss against the shell of Wriothesley’s ear, his forked tongue sneaking out to trace the edge of it. “Beloved,” he whispers, nipping at it next before guiding Wriothesley's hips to rock against his thighs.

Wriothesley bites at his lip. “Fuck,” he hisses, rising and falling against him. Neuvillette’s cock carves its way through his insides. So full, his rim spread wide, bullied open. Perfect. Neuvillette helps Wriothesley move, angling him back to lean against his chest to change the angle. On the next thrust, the tip of his length nails Wriothesley's prostate. He yelps, then moans, fingers curling around Neuvillette’s wrist, nails digging into the flesh.

It isn’t aggressive but, rather, heated and passionate. They rock against each other, Neuvillette pressing against every roll of Wriothesley's hips. Smells like sex and them—and Neuvillette loves it, unable to stop the way that he sucks in his breaths, nose pressed against Wriothesley's neck.

“Like that,” he murmurs, biting at it. “Mhmn, just like that.”

Too good. Heat sparks in Wriothesley's groin, zinging up his spine, leaving his cock hard and leaking at the tip. “I thought you’d—oh, that’s—” He palms it, stroking from base to tip. Anything to take the edge off the thick length lodged in his ass. Anything to distract from the searing heat that bubbles in his gut as Neuvillette grinds against him.

“This couch will be the bane of my existence.” Neuvillette’s chin rests on his shoulder, face tilted to keep his mouth latched against Wriothesley's sweaty skin. “You are right; I will smell it, our coming together here. And I will think of it every time.”

“Hot. Sexy.”

Neuvillette huffs in that way of his that makes Wriothesley's heart skip a beat. “Ruinous.” He presses his hand against Wriothesley's stomach and presses there. “You are an utterly ruinous thing, aren’t you?”

“Neuvillette—”

“Jealousy suits you.” Neuvillette ruts into him to drive home that point. He drags Wriothesley against to lean back against him, his weight heavy against his chest. His mouth finds his ear again for a kiss that makes Wriothesley melt.

“They were—Archons—”

“None of that,” chides Neuvillette. “I too, am a covetous thing. The ire of a dragon should never be provoked. You, however—” He hums, pressing close against Wriothesley's nape. “Anyone else is a being unworthy of my attention. I may be polite, but you are the one that consumes my thoughts. My beloved. My mate.”

Their movements change as they crash together, uncoordinated, lacking rhythm. Neuvillette has an arm curled around Wriothesely, holding him close. The other holds his hip and guides him up and down on his cock. They both moan, the sounds lingering in the air for far too long. The slick slap of their skin is so loud that even Wriothesley is a tad embarrassed, heat pinking his cheeks.

But gods, he loves this, how they move together so well. Neuvillette is just as needy, nothing but draconic bravado with a fancy cravat tied at his throat. In the end, he’s desperate too, drunk on Wriothesley’s scent and the feel of him. He fucks him earnestly, rocking Wriothesley against his cock.

“Tight,” he mutters near his ear. “What a perfect boy.”

“I’m—gods, I’m going to—”

Neuvillette chuckles, leaning over his shoulder. “Show me.” His hand sweeps down Wriothesley's front, claws dragging through the coarse hair at his pubic bone.

Wriothesley moans as he jerks himself off. He lifts his hips and slams them back down, choking off a too-loud sound. “You feel so good.” He tenses and shudders, the pleasure in his gut flaring. “Fuck, Neuvillette.”

He drowns in the heat. Neuvillette whispers praise into his ear and Wriothesley rises and falls at his direction. A hand sweeps between his legs, teasing the soft skin of Wriothesley's inner thighs. And then up, cupping his balls, squeezing them gently as he bucks into his tight heat.

Another stroke has Wriothesley coming, spilling across his stomach. He jerks, tensing as that wave crashes into him, dragging him under. Neuvillette inhales sharply, fangs sinking into the juncture of his neck. His next thrust is hard, searing as it strikes deep. And then the next, and the next—

Neuvillette grunts as he comes then, lapping at the mark that now bruises Wriothesley's neck. Hot and wet—Wriothesley clenches around his twitching cock, annoyed that they’ll have to separate and clean up. This is what he loves the best; the aftermath, pressed together, Neuvillette breathing against his neck. The soft touches, the lingering kisses, that slow come-down as they melt into the sheets.

Neuvillette thumbs down the seam of his balls, giving them another light squeeze before letting them go. His fingers trail the length of Wriothesley's spent cock, then through the spend that pools on his stomach. Neuvillette drenches his fingers in it. Makes a show of bringing them to his mouth for a taste, that damnable forked tongue suckling at his fingers.

Wriothesley stares and Neuvillette’s mouth curls into a smile. He leans forward, kisses him, then says against his lips, “It’s a shame that here, I can’t take you apart again and again. You know how I love to dote when you’ve had a long and trying day.”

“Stop teasing me.”

“A tease? Never.”

It is. It absolutely is. Neuvillette is getting better at honing that sharp tongue, which he knows. His teases are promises that carry a heavy weight, which is proven only a moment later. He slips his cock out gingerly. Wriothesley stands and rights his trousers, sighing when Neuvillette reaches out to refasten them.

“You’re bad at this,” Wriothesely says when Neuvillette spends more time squeezing his cock back to half-hardness than dressing.

“Nonsense. You asked for this.”

Wriothesley cannot argue with that. “And what about doting on me? My day was terrible.” Preferably sooner than later because Wriothesley hates the way come leaks down his thighs. He’d rather be naked in the sheets.

Neuvillette’s gaze is sharp. He still sits before him on that couch, leaning forward to kiss the sharp jut of his hip bone. “I do enjoy it when you choose to stay over. But, first—a bath, please?”

That, he can do. Wriothesley tugs Neuvillette to his feet, tucking his dick away. “Thank you,” he says, thumbing over the buttons of Neuvillette’s trousers as he returns the favor of fastening them. “I know this isn’t… the sort of thing that you do.”

“There are always exceptions. And, you painted a pretty picture.”

Wriothesley raises an eyebrow. “Of soiling that couch?”

“Of drenching you in my scent.” A pause as his gaze tips past Wriothesley. “And the couch.”

Wriothesley tugs his face close for another kiss. “Sweetheart—”

“Wriothesley.”

“I was just going to say that I love you.”

Neuvillette grunts, and though he dislikes public displays of affection, he does hold his hand all the way back to the Palais Mermonia.

#Cavalierious Fanfic #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin #genshin smut #neuvithesley #neuvillette/wriothesley #tea & paperwork

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bclletragedie · 7 months

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@lospartisanos

LOCATION: early morning, a street by nora's home. FOR: nora barnes.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 form of protection. he's heard the declaration more times than he can count on both hands -- and then some. and yet, he sees no reason to hide behind the walls he's built over his life when it comes to nora. something in him may have always known that it was game over from the very first moment he met her, the way his heart induced a protective lurch in his chest, an ache for both her and himself. he had made it his lifelong duty to keep his eyes transfixed on the pariah's mission ever since relocating to the belly of the beast -- el anhelo was supposed to have simply been a means to an end, a way to get by. pay the bills. and while it had never been meant to become anything more than that ( something he had desperately fought to keep that way ), it had become so much more. it was his tether to her -- giving him a reason to look forward to clocking in every day.

and while some my believe that the oath of protection he had sworn to yamato did not extend past their working hours, they couldn't have been more wrong. at least, in arturo's eyes it didn't. however, with nora it holds a certain weight that he thought had been long since dead -- which is why he takes off running the very moment he sees her contact grace his screen. usual subway route be damned.

i think someone is following me. she's in danger. he needs no other convincing -- he'll go to her side. he doesn't know how long it's been since he last felt this, such overwhelming adoration for another human being. but how could anyone not fall head over heels for her just as he has, entranced by everything she is and everything she does. while he knows all to well that no one is perfect, born to carry the shattered fragments of their upbringing and the singed edges that come with such a task -- he knows he'd take it all for her. anything that comes her way, every trial, every tribulation. but what he also knows to be true is the ending of an age-old story -- she very well could not feel the same. and while the reality paws at his throat, the silent killer of heartbreak, it is a reality he knows he will live with just to be near her.

he has never been the white knight before the pariah's relocation, circling their prey like sharks beneath the depths of the ocean. and yet he finds himself in the position night after night -- something that feels more right than he has ever cared to admit. maybe, just maybe, the protector he has become has always been within him. it certainly is now as his feet connect with the pavement below his feet, only able to hear his ragged breathing as his eyes scan his surroundings. he's been able to see her location thanks to his request for her to share it with him -- and he's getting closer the quicker he moves.

his relief when he finally lays eyes on her is palpable, but it quickly fades away the moment his eyes fall on the other figure. if he has followed her this far away from the club -- this can certainly not be coincidental. it is safest not to instigate, but to make his presence known. but -- at the first sign of danger, he is prepared. while this is a common occurance, his preparedness to do what has been asked of him, he can't ignore the lurch in his chest. it's her. everything is different when it comes to her.

" i'm here. " he speaks gently, linking his arm with hers. " i've got you, i'm not going anywhere. okay? we're just going to keep walking, i'm going to get you some pizza, and we're going to wait him out. there's a place a block from where we are. " he intends to make it appear like they are together, that the follower has no place here -- but he is preparing himself for the worst. " just keep walking. "

#stalking tw #𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙾 | conversations.#conversations / nora and arturo.#// i once again have done way too damn much #// i love u

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amongthesharks · 11 months

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I'll stay here through the darkest night <-AO3 Link.

I got the writing bug, here you go:

Summary:

They're on their first full day of exploring the area around Moonrise towers when the arcane hunger finally digs too deeply into Gale, causing him to slip from the protection of torch light. Can he fight off darkness and hunger and come back to Tav?

Notes:

I haven't written in a while, I wrote this today. I have no beta-reader, I just hope I have good proof reading. I've got a small list of songs that If I were any good with video editing I'd make into little videos, but instead I'm gonna make song fics. This is based of Rider's Lullaby. I've put them into a spotify playlist for those curious: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2bx33NULJdAzisQ1PSabkM?si=d7988b8c48344621

He probably should have asked sooner. He disliked asking though, he had grown accustomed to dealing with this issue on his own, albeit with Tara’s help. But those were lonelier times, a time he once in a while wished for, to not be a burden to the group of people he had the new found pleasure of calling friends. If he remembered correctly, his social circle before was no larger the a pin head. They were on the first full day of getting the lay of the land this darkened land. Gale hung at the back of the group as they walked through ruined paths, close enough to look as though he was keeping up and within the protective circle of the torch light, but just at the edge enough to hide the pain eeking into his body.

It always started the same, a tingling numbness in his fingers, something that in these cold lands he could overlook, and so could the others. Then an ache in the shoulders that slid down his back like a network of barbed wire, prickling pain, there in one moment, gone the next. More and more symptoms of Mystra's present would layer in until the the warnings became too much to bare. The moment he felt his heart was trying to beat through sludge and grit, he knew he had gone too long. The trials of getting to moonrise were also sapping some of his energy, his purple robes accentuating the growing bruises under his eyes.

How long did he have to continue like this? Each time he found himself at his limit, he found that his remedy was becoming less and less effective. The wizard couldn't keep asking for item after item, his thoughts began to slow him down. At what point did he just give in, at what point does Mystra win. His heels slipped out of the warm circle of light first. Maybe I should just let her win, what use am I to this team… Gale felt a chill mist over him, weighing him down, making him slower. As the light pulled away from him, his voice seem to become lost too. The scope of his vision began to darken, his feet slowed to a stand still. Should I not just let the darkness take me, I could rid the world of myself and the shadowed lands… They'd be safe then... The world began to blur. Safe from me.

He felt his body grow heavy as he dropped to his knees, and sounds became nothing but muffled wind and a steady piercing sound that began to block out all others. A ghostly wail that filled his mind and senses. His body swayed forward as his world went black.

—-----------------------------------------------

Tav noticed moments too late that one of her party had strayed out of the torch's reach. “Hells below.” She said as she looked behind her, Gale was on his knees, shadow beings looming over him like angels of death come to collect. In which Gale looked the part, he looked like death gripped him. She shoved the her torch into Shadowhart’s hands and rushed back. "Damn it, Damn it!" Her hands were already conjuring up dancing lights, casting it around Gale in a weak attempt of a barrier. She slid towards him on her knees as he pitched forward, catching him with all of her being. He felt so small in her arms right now. She looked up at the beings who dared to try to take him. The shadows roiled around her and she clung to his unconscious form.

It didn’t take long for the group to follow suit, the stronger light pushing back the dark beings into the forest’s edge. The light also revealed the pale and cold sweat covered face of the wizard, as his breaths came in hard shudders. Tav's mind reeled as she tried to figure out the best plan, pressing his limp form into her body. Tav looked back the way they came.

“He can’t continue-” Shadowhart started as she kept eye out on their protective circle.

“Obviously!” Tav snapped and winced, not meaning to lash out. “Sorry. I just..... How far are we from Little Light?”

“Fifteen minutes, But I could make it in less if you can keep up, Soldier.” Karlach said as she eased down beside Tav. The druid stared forward a little longer before Karlach nudged her. “Let me carry him.” There was a small bit of hesitation, not for doubt in Karlach’s strength, but the reminder that it was only a day prior that no one could touch her. Tav relented and helped with shifting Gale into Karlach’s warm embrace.

Not a moment later they were off, not their normal trot but a sprint, keeping inside the circle of light while making sure to avoid areas they haven’t scouted yet. They could have made camp, but it was better to have more people on watch, wasn't it? And Halsin was there if she needed an extra hand. No one risked a look back, if the shadows kept their distance and the girls kept their pace. The Harpers met them at the gate with questions that Shadowhart stopped to updated them with, they had been on high alert since the attack from Moonrise. Jaheria had a space was made for them up stairs, in an area that was left mostly whole after the attack. For Tav, the whole trip from fallen Gale to a bed was a blur. Her mind a whirlwind of running scenarios on how she missed what was happening, could she have caught this sooner, and why wouldn’t he just keep the magical items she offered him even when he didn’t need it. Fury kept her running, before the fallout made her collapse into a chair beside him, there was talking in her vicinity, updates made to camp and crew before she finally got her mental footing again. Now was when her druid training came to light.

“Bring up some water, a bowl and some clean cloth scraps please. And a spare sleeping set from anyone’s pack. He’s already soaked his clothing through with sweat.” Tav gave the orders.

“On it!” Karlach hopped to it, going down the stairs, and it wasn't long before she was back with the requested items. The rest of the crew was sent away to give the druid space. Karlach worked with her to clinically remove Gale from his damp clothing, and into something dry, before moving him under the covers partially. With that done she asked to be alone.

The muffled sounds from the bar below, the rustling of movement from outside the inn, and the wheezing of Gale’s pained breaths were all that filled the room now. Tav closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the door a moment before locking it. No interruptions. She turned to look at the pinched face of the wizard in the bed. The man that she’s spent nights talking magic with and listening to him drone on about his ex. Tav gave a soft laugh to herself. This dumb, kind, smart soul who didn’t know when to ask for help, or recognize help when it was being offered… almost put their whole party at risk. Get the sass out now, Tav. She told herself, the last thing he’d need upon waking is for her to berate him about the choice to come out with them in such a state. It only took a few steps to close the gap and sit on the side of the bed. Her hand pressed to his forehead, he was clammy and cool under her touch, his brows dipped in discomfort, a keening soft sound escaping his lips. Her warm fingers smoothed over his creased brow, a pained sigh was offered up in response, his head tried to lean toward that source of comfort. Her fingers trailed down the lightning shaped markings below his left eye and moved over his cheek, along his neck, a shudder in response, before she placed her hand over the bruised circle in his chest.

“You silly boy.” She murmured as she closed her own eyes and began to cast a rejuvenation spell, something to help settle and dispel some of the non-physical ailments. Her other hand found his and began to gently rub at his fingers. She hummed softly, letting the spell flow through her and into him, trying to imagine it chasing away the chill of the shadows, lighting the darkened corners of his mind and soul. There was a chance that the magical black hole in his chest was eating up some of her efforts, but it wouldn’t stop her from trying.

Her gaze moved to the ring on her hand, resting over his chest. It was something she kept, from their travels. Something he had commented on as looking pretty. Her thoughts turned again, she wished Tara was here. Maybe the tressym would know how to feed magic to an unconscious idiot, could she even do it. There had to be times when Gale, in his tower of solitude, let himself go for too long. Tav hadn’t even second guessed that this was the issue at hand today, though in her panic, she didn’t think about the repercussions of bringing a human bomb to a largely inhabited safe house. She slid off the ring and awkwardly placed it in the circle.

“Please work.” She whispered to the air more than anyone, or maybe in hopes that the goddess would let her help him in this way. Tav covered the ring with her hand and gave it a light press and closed her eyes. She scrunched her face as she tried to form that connection, a way to open the circle.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

The world was dark.

Had he died? Had he taken everyone with him?

The world was cold.

He had to be alone. Why would anyone be here?

The world was small.

Even in the vastness of nothing, he felt trapped in the smallest of spaces.

Then there was the barest of pressures, of warmth. It moved through his hands, then creeped his arms, till it brushed at his core. He wasn’t as cold as he was before. Gale could feel some ease in the tension of his body. The darkness was now more gray, as if light was trying to break through a dense fog. Then the weight of the fog tried to bring him down once more. He would have let it too, if it was for an electric spark that made the place he was in light up in the brightest of lilacs.

Images flashed around him; Gale alone in his tower with Tara on his chest, Tav out in the open plains running along side fellow Elves and a unicorn, long nights and mountains of books, Tav placing protective wards around a forest, the Nautiloid, Tav slapping his hand as it stuck out from the portal, Tav and Gale sharing moments over the difference between druidic magic and the weave, Gale showing her the stars… Moments between him and this woman who had her suspicions at first but has grown to be a guiding star in his sky. Lastly is the image of Tav, sitting at a bedside, with him unconscious in it, pressing a ring to his chest. The room then flashes purple again. Pain cords through him, his arches up with a cry and a sob as the magic fills the need and settles into his bones.

—------------------

Tav couldn’t believe it worked, she was in pain, but when wasn’t she, and it had worked . Draw back was the mental connection that meant sharing the intense pain but some memories she hadn't thought of in a while, but she’d do it again. His breathing was settled down, but he seemed more lively, though still not awake. She shook out her hands and combed them through her hair as she processed what to do next. The soft glow of her healing magic came back as she did a healing word or two to ease the pain she knew for sure he was feeling. Then, all she could do was make him comfortable. Then after so false starts she made a decision. It took some odd maneuvering, but she was able to sit against the headboard and lay his head in her lap. She took the rags, dipping them in water and began to gently wipe down his face. A song bubbled up in her, from a distant memory, probably dredged up from the seeing the memories flashing earlier. She began to hum the tune, a lullaby of sorts as she laid a cool damp cloth over his eyes. Her fingers gently rubbed at his temples then up to comb through his hair as words quietly slipped out in tune:

“You're okay

You're alright

I'll never, ever leave your side”

She felt him stirring slowly and she placed a hand on his chest to settle him, continuing the song.

“I will stay and I will fight

With you”

Tav hummed a small spot in the song as she heard him try to move. He sucked in a pained breath. “Hush hush, I’ve got you…” She said, feeling him trembling lightly, she leaned forward to pull the quilt there higher up, stretching one of her legs down his side as support and warmth.

“You're okay

You're alright

I'll stay here through the darkest night

All the way, I will fight

With you”

“Tav..” His voice croaked out, he raised an arm to pull the cloth from his eyes, it was slow but she let him do it himself. Gale stared up at her, he still looked rough, but a lot less like death. His eyes still seemed distant, uncertain. Her hands moved to cup his cheeks, brushing along his beard.

“I’m here, you idiot.” She felt him shift his head into one of her palms, his eyes squeezed tight for a moment.

“I….I thought that I possibly….” He trailed off, his eyes opening again taking in the room of the Little Light tavern. “I’m….”

“Alive? Sorry? Thankful?” Tav proffered as she moved her hands back to combing through his hair, she chided herself, she didn’t want to bully him tonight by any means. His face crumpled a little and he moved to sit. Tav wasn’t having that, the moment he was even half way up, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him back to lean on her. She buried her face into his neck and held him firmly. He froze for a moment before relaxing into her.

“I am sorry.” He finally said as he rested his hands on hers. He soaked in her warmth. “I don’t… I don’t fully remember what happened.”

“You fell behind… Then the shadows were coming for you. You.... you looked dead.” She said into his skin before lifting her head and resting it on his shoulder. “If I was a betting person, I’d say you didn’t speak up before the hunger got bad.” Her fingers laced with his. “I fed you that ring you like, I didn’t know if it would work…” She could see him frown out of the corner of her eye.

“The sapphire one?” He said, slightly saddened at the thought.

“I’d rather have you here than the ring. It was a no-brainer.” She sighed and was quiet for a moment before asking. “Was it enough?”

He was silent for a while before nodding his head. Whether it was true or not was another thing. Tav knew that each item was becoming less effective, but what else could they do. She felt him lean his cheek against hers and she smiled, she’d give him all she could, if it extended his time here with them.

“You could try… not waiting until the point of exhaustion to eat again, you know.” Gale said nothing, his thumb rubbed over hers in small circles, then she heard him begin to hum. It was her tune from earlier.

“What’s that song from…” He asked quietly. “I’ve read many a book, but I don’t recall those lyrics before.” Deflection, but she'd take it, for a moment of calm and normality.

“Old clan song…. We’d sing them to animals and children and the like in the south of Alaron.” Tav didn’t mention her past often, it lay in the far off parts of peoples maps. “I can take you there one day, have you meet a unicorn when all this is said and done, if I can still find one.”

“Alaron…” He hummed and swayed slightly in her arms as he thought for a moment, her arms kept him steady. “Isn’t that Moonshae? That’s a bit of a hike from here.”

“Bit of a boat ride, yes… or Nautiloid ride in my case.”

“I.. read about in a book about the history of the isles…. Kamerynn lives there?” He asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer as he closed his eyes and began to recant what he knew. She could correct his details later, right now, she just wanted both of them to rest, and him to focus on the living and the now. What waited for them in the future didn't seem bright, but one could only hold onto the happiness of the current moments. She'd hold onto this one, and keep looking into a way to save this idiot man from himself.

Later, someone had to lockpick the door to check on them, just to find them curled into each other, sleeping. It... didn't look comfortable, but they certainly looked happy enough.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 fanfiction #gale/tav #fanfiction

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