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zaldritzosrose · 1 month

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Only Ever Yours (Aegon x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Aegon saw marriage as a duty, a weight to bear and nothing more. You were a good wife; he would never fault you that. But he refused to believe he felt nothing more for you. Unfortunately for him, his uncle knew better. Daemon was going to get him to admit it, one way or another.

TW: MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), fingering, Daemon thinking he's helping, flirting, innuendo, profanity.

Words: 4319

Thank you to @legitalicat for betaing this! 💚

Also, there is some vague references to this being within the Dance timeline but nothing concrete so imagine it as you will!

And please thank my dearest Nonnie for the request! Enjoy!

Name days were always a grand affair for the royal family and having Jacaerys turn six and ten – that was the grandest they had hosted in a while. You sat beside your husband, Aegon, between him and his uncle Daemon. Lords and ladies from all over the realm had come to celebrate the young prince’s coming of age and there was nothing short of revelry to be had.

Aegon was preoccupied with his wine, even large events like this where appearances were everything did not stem his dependency on his cups. Though you could not blame him, listening to lord after lord drivel on about something or another would likely drive you down the same path if you had a liking for wine.

What you did wish to do, however, was dance. The minstrels played nothing but upbeat songs to please the celebrated prince and the dance floor was already filling. You turned to Aegon; a hand placed on his arm to get his attention.

“Could we dance, husband?” you asked softly, the slightest sound of hope in your tone.

But what you got was a shake of his head, nothing more.

Aegon had never been unkind to you, but he had always seemed disenchanted with your marriage. Uninterested in anything more than his duty. He kept his eyes trained on his cup before him, not noticing the look of disappointment on your face. The flush of rejection on your cheeks as you turned away from him and picked at the food on your plate.

But Daemon noticed.

He noticed the glisten of tears in your eyes, the slight tremble of your lower lip as you tried to keep yourself calm. And he felt a pang of sympathy. You had been offered as a politically advantageous marriage for Aegon. Binding your house and the Targaryens solely for power. And it seemed his nephew had yet to look past his duty to the woman beneath it.

“My lady?” Daemon touched your arm gently, bringing your attention over to your uncle by marriage now.

“My prince,” you hurried to wipe your eyes, trying your best to hide your emotions.

Daemon only offered you a smile, glancing around you and seeing Aegon glancing over to the pair of you.

“A lady as pretty as you should have no need to cry, nor be left alone with no dance partner,” Daemon said softly, nudging your arm and coaxing a smile to your lips.

“It is alright, my prince, really. I am more than content to…”

Daemon interrupted you with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“No, my sweet lady, you need to be more than content.” Daemon stood, offering his hand to you with a smirk.

With a final glance to Aegon, who was doing nothing but glaring into the cup before him, you accepted.

“Quite the saviour you are, my prince,” you giggled, as Daemon led you down the steps and to the dance floor below.

The music had turned upbeat, and Daemon was quick to put you both into position. He led you with a smile, putting all his effort to spinning you about the dance floor and bringing smiles and laughter to your lips.

Aegon watched. At first, he told himself he did not care. You wanted to dance, and you were dancing. You were happy and he did not have to involve himself. But when the song ended and Daemon did not let you go, he began to watch more closely.

The next song was slower and when you did not pull away from his uncle, Aegon sat up a little straighter and followed your every move. The closeness between your and Daemon’s bodies, how you blushed a little when Daemon leaned down to whisper something in your ear.

Aegon’s jaw tightened, but he tried to will away the emotions stirring within. Jealousy. You were his wife; you should be at his side. But he knew, deep down, that was not what bothered him. It was the joy on your face. Joy that was not caused by him.

The second song ended, and Daemon leaned down a little, pressing a kiss to your hand.

“Thank you for the dance, my sweet lady,” he smirked, offering you a wink that brought out yet another giggle.

Aegon could not hear what he said, but he could see the smile, the movement of your shoulders that told him you were giggling, the flush on your cheeks from the dance and dare he say…from Daemon. He should not feel jealous, you were his duty, a marriage he had never asked for.

So why did he feel it? Why did his stomach feel twisted and his blood feel like it was boiling in his veins? The scrape of his chair could be heard over the music as Aegon descended the steps and stormed his way through the crowd to you and Daemon.

“Aegon?” you asked, but Aegon’s focus was solely on Daemon.

But his uncle only smiled, inclining his head and retreating into the crowd. His smile never left him, even after his back turned on the young couple.

What neither knew, was Daemon had watched them, since the day they had been betrothed. You had done everything to try and enamour yourself to Aegon, to try and present yourself as a good prospect. But Aegon had simply tolerated your presence. Acted politely from his mother’s instructions, courted you. Took you on walks around the gardens, introduced to his dragon even.

But he never seemed to enjoy it. It was as though marriage was simply a burden. Daemon watched you retreat into yourself, watched you stop vying quite so hard for Aegon’s attentions. He watched as your usual happy demeanour seemed to waver.

It only became more obvious when you were married. The kiss shared between the pair of you in the Sept was tense and since then, nothing had improved.

So, Daemon had took it upon himself to fix it. To see you, someone who had been dragged into this family through no choice of her own, to a husband who did not want her. He knew the one way to make Aegon see, was to force him to admit how he felt for you.

And tonight was only the beginning.

The name day feast gnawed at Aegon’s mind, only a week had passed. Jealousy meant nothing, surely. It could not possibly mean he felt anything deep for you. No, he told himself. It could not possibly be true.

Aegon was sat by the window, having just finished his breakfast when he heard you enter. It was rare for the two of you to spend the mornings together, Aegon preferring lazier mornings whereas you always took breakfast with his mother and sister.

“Good morning, husband,” you said softly, slipping into the seat across from him.

Aegon gave you a tight smile, watching as you poured yourself a cup from the tea from the pot he had yet to touch. He was curious, however, as to why you were here.

“There is a family dinner tonight.” You said gently, sipping from your tea.

Now it made sense, there were few reasons you would willingly seek him out, he knew that without a doubt. Though even thinking that, made Aegon feel a pang of guilt he did not expect.

“And I assume my attendance is expected?”

The look you gave him was enough. He nodded. A family dinner meant all of the family would be in attendance. And he was not prepared to receive a telling off from his mother if he avoided it.

The rest of the morning was spent in silence, until you were called away for a walk with Helaena.

Aegon met you outside your chambers in time to walk to dinner, his face already showing he wished to be anywhere else. You did feel a little bad for him, now he was married most talk seemed to focus on that. Whether it was questions directed at you on your expected motherhood, or at Aegon at the need to ‘perform his duty’. You would sometimes wish you could tell him you would avoid dinner with him.

But you were not even sure he would want to avoid it with you.

He held his arm out to you, barely glancing at you as you took it and began to walk in step with him. It was not until you reached the dining hall that he even spared you a look. The deep green and black of your dress was not what he expected. Aegon sometimes wore Targaryen blacks or Hightower green depending on his mood. To see you wearing both stirred something within him he did not expect.

He led you down the dining table and to your seats, passing Daemon as you went. The smile the elder prince gave you did not go unnoticed.

“My lady, you truly are a sight to behold,” Daemon purred out to you as you passed and Aegon did not miss the faint flush in your cheeks.

“You flatter me, my prince,” you replied, your voice soft and breathy. You did not immediately notice how Aegon tensed at your side.

Aegon hurried you on, his other arm reaching round and letting his hand grip your arm. His jaw was set tight, and his eyes now solely focused on making it down to his seat. He was now practically dragging you along behind him. The moment he sat, he pulled the jug of wine towards him, taking a long drink as you looked at him in confusion.

Daemon however, smirked into his cup. It would not be long before Aegon would have to admit he felt something for you. And dinner tonight was simply another stone on that path.

Dinner passed on with little consequence. Conversation flowed on all sides of the table, and when dessert was served Daemon saw your eyes light up. He was close enough to your seat to lean over to talk.

“Do you have a sweet tooth, my lady?” Daemon asked, that mischievous smile back on his lips.

You laughed a little before answering.

“It is a weakness; I am ashamed to admit. My mother would have the desserts and sweets put on the highest shelves of our kitchens…” you realised you were rambling and stopped.

Daemon realised then that Aegon may never have even asked you about yourself. Was his nephew so apathetic to this marriage that he did not bother to know his own wife?

His thoughts were interrupted by a tray of sweet and honeyed cakes being placed between you. He soon saw your eyes flick down and your tongue dart out ever so slightly in anticipation. You were about to reach out when Daemon lifted a cake and offered it to you.

“A sweet cake, almost as sweet as you, my lady.”

The giggle you let out had Aegon turning his head to look at you. He realised he could not remember one moment he had made you laugh anywhere close to that. And that feeling in the pit of his stomach returned.

A sickening mix of guilt, anger and jealousy.

You had not expected the feast thrown for your own name day to be quite as lavish as Prince Jacaerys, but your mother-in-law Alicent had near demanded you be celebrated the same way the royal children were. You knew there was animosity between the two families, but you had luckily avoided the brunt of it.

There was a sense of déjà vu as you sat at the top table, Aegon at your right as you looked down to the crowd of nobles, including your family, that had come to celebrate you. The only group you waited on now was Daemon, Rhaenyra and the Princes. And when the doors opened to reveal them, Aegon could not stop the swell of anger inside him as your face lit up to the sight of Daemon.

Had he been so neglectful of you that the attention his uncle gave you was that important? Or worse, did you feel something for Daemon?

Aegon school his face to a cool look of indifference as each of them approached and gave their good wishes. Daemon, however, beckoned you down to him with a grin.

“I know you said you wished for nothing when Rhaenyra asked, but you deserve to be well treated,” he whispered, pulling a small velvet covered box from behind his back.

Your eyes went wide at the sight, even wider when it was opened. An intricate necklace, weaving your house sigil with that of House Targaryen, and little green gemstones for House Hightower. The three Houses you now belonged to.

“It is beautiful,” you sighed, tracing your fingers over the designs of the necklace.

Daemon gestured for you to turn, and you even moved your hair so he could place the necklace around your throat. The metal was cool against your already flushed skin. If you had looked up, you would have seen Aegon’s reddened cheeks and tight smile as he glared down at the both of you. Though you would not have understood his anger in its entirety. Why he found the way Daemon’s hands brushed at your neck as he clasped the necklace around. Why he found the gift itself an insult.

It was not known to many, but before their family drifted apart, Aegon and Daemon would frequent the same brothels. There was a chance they had even fucked the same whores. But there was one difference. Aegon would pay those he fucked in gold, Daemon however, would pay them a different way. He would bring presents for those he favoured, trinkets essentially. Not that he thought Daemon believed you a whore, but the implication and memory made him sick.

He could have move past it, ignored the twisted feeling in his gut. But when you raced back to him, a wide smile on your face and your hands still clutching the necklace, Aegon was ready to snap.

“Husband! Your uncle Daemon is so generous, is he not?” You almost squealed in excitement.

You were at his side, giving him no choice but to see the jewels that now hung around your neck. And he did not even both to force a smile to his lips.

“Oh yes, he is quite generous.” Aegon snapped back at you, no longer hiding his disdain.

Your eyes narrowed, you had seen Aegon upset before, but never like this.

“Is there a problem, husband?” You asked, your eyes stinging with tears of anger now.

But Aegon said nothing, gripping your arm and dragging you away from your own name day feast. He wove you through the crowds, ignoring the questions from his family as you passed them.

“What are you doing! Let go!” you tried to tug your arm from his grasp, but he ignored you.

Aegon was silent as he dragged you back to his chambers, Slamming the door behind him and rounding on you. But you spoke first.

“Aegon, what is wrong with you?” you were close to shouting, Aegon realised he had never heard you raise your voice.

“Wrong! What is wrong?” Aegon slammed his hand to the small table beside him, the wine cups and jug shaking with the impact.

“Daemon is what is wrong! Do you think I enjoy watching him fawn over you and…and watch you enjoy it!?”

So that was what it was all about. Aegon refused to show you care and attention as his wife, but gods forbid someone else dared to?

“Are you serious, Aegon? This is all because you are jealous?”

You did not know when you had closed the distance between the two of you, or when your hand had slapped against his chest. But the warmth of Aegon’s hand around your wrist brought you back to reality.

“Are you jealous?” your voice had gone softer, changing your tack to see if you could get through to him.

Aegon shoved you back, not looking as you stumbled a little over the hem of your gown. You could see the heave of his shoulders as he tried to calm himself. He did not know if he wanted to cry or scream. He hated how he felt. He hated being married, he hated…just all of it.

“Jealous? I would have to love you to feel jealous, would I not?” The words left him before he could control them.

Any anger you felt almost dissipated. You had never pretended to think your husband loved you, political marriages rarely went that way. But to hear it come directly from him?

It broke your heart.

“You are a cruel man, husband…”

Aegon could hear the pain in your voice, the heartbreak. And the wave of guilt that washed over him made him want to reach out, apologise. But he was sure you would reject him.

“Do you think I enjoy Daemon’s attentions because I desire him, is that it?”

He could feel you behind him, the soft scent of your perfume wafting towards him as you moved. Your hands on his back making him want to pull away. Aegon could not bring himself to answer with words, his breath leaving him in frustrated huffs.

“Because you are wrong.”

Aegon could feel his frustration simmering. His mind spinning as he tried to understand what he felt. Hearing you say you held no desire for Daemon should not make his lips almost curl to a smile. He felt…relieved to hear you say it. But when he did not speak, you continued.

“Do you wish for the truth, husband?”

Your hands shoved at his back, trying in vain to get him to look at you. Your frustration, desperation and pain fighting inside you. But he still refused to speak.

“The truth is the attention I want is yours.”

It was all you wanted. To have your husband look at you with even a sliver of affection. For there to be more in his eyes than contempt or boredom whenever you spent time with him. For him to want you as you wanted him.

Daemon’s attentions had only reminded you of how you should feel. Of how being wanted felt. How your heart should beat a little faster in their presence, how your stomach should flutter and your cheeks flush when they showed you any attention.

Everything you wanted from Aegon but had yet to receive.

But Aegon was barely listening. His own mind reeled, processing everything he felt towards you. Jealousy meant he cared, and the thought felt foreign in his mind. Because if he cared, if seeing another pay you any mind bothered him as much as it was, then he must feel something for you.

And to hear you say you wanted his attention; it sent a surge of something he did not expect. Love? Desire? Either way, it was new.

“Will you not even look at me now?” you asked, your hands still on his back, gentle as if taming a wild animal.

Aegon turned slowly, his eyes downcast. He took a few calming breaths before looking up at you. His eyes falling to the necklace. And you did not miss how his jaw clenched at the sight of it.

“Do you really like it that much?” he asked quietly, his finger reaching out to trace the silver chain.

He tried to ignore how your breath hitched a little when his fingers touch your skin instead of the necklace. He tried to ignore how soft your skin felt beneath his hand.

“Tis a gift, it would be rude to not wear it,” you said, watching how his eyes followed his finger as it traced higher, reaching the curve of your neck.

“Maybe…my husband could replace it with something of his own choosing?”

Aegon concentrated on the feel of you. How his heart raced a little as he felt your own pulse beneath his hand. His hand continued up, curling around the back of your neck and letting his thumb circle of your skin.

He had never been this close to you without the intent of performing his marital duties. Aegon had never willingly pursued any kind of physical intimacy with you outside of that. But he could not ignore how it made him feel.

“Would you like that, wife?” Aegon whispered, feeling the soft hairs at the nape of your neck.

You nodded, Aegon’s proximity was a lot to process. The slight roughness of his palm, the heat of his breath as he spoke, the smell of the wine on him. It was almost too much for you to handle.

Aegon could feel the flush of heat in your skin. The quickening of your pulse. His mind clouded now with the smell of your perfume and the softness of your skin. He could feel the desire trickling down his spine, through his veins and into his thickening length. He barely remembered if he had ever felt such need from simply touching you.

Your own hands tightened in the fabric of his tunic, instinctually pulling him closer. The tension between the two of you was thick.

There was barely an inch between you now. Aegon’s hand gripped the back of your neck, his nose brushing yours.

“Kiss me, Aegon…please…”

He did not hesitate, finally giving into the feelings he had tried to ignore. His kiss bruising and desperate, his free hand wrapping around your waist and crushing you to his chest. You were just as filled with need as he was, your own hands gripping the fabric of his tunic tight while trying to push the fabric from his body.

Aegon walked you back to the bed, only stopping when your knees hit the footboard. You fell back with a soft bounce, leaning up on your elbows to watch your husband with lust clouded eyes. You could see the movement of his throat as he swallowed thick, your gaze travelling down to where he unbuttoned his tunic and the now prominent arousal sitting heavy in his breeches.

“I have been a fool, wife…a fool to think I felt nothing for you.” Aegon grunted out the words, his eyes trailing over your body as he spoke.

His skin felt hot, whatever blood was in his veins had run down and now pulsed through his cock. Only now did he really look at you. See you for just how beautiful you were.

The words Daemon had spoken way back at dinner rung in his head. But he realised just now how true they were.

“You truly are a sight to behold,”

He could see the flush reach your skin, your chest heaving now at his words. Aegon tugged his tunic from his body, pulling his undershirt over his head with little ceremony. Your own hands unlaced your gown, sighing out as the corset lessened its strain on your body. Your hands were soon replaced by Aegon’s, standing you up and making quick work of the rest of your gown. His hands more gentle than they had ever been, with only the thin silk of your shift between him and your bare form.

With a soft touch, he had you back on the bed. Surprising you as he knelt between your thighs. He had never, in all the time you had been married to him, pleasured you in such a way. His focus had always solely been on duty and nothing more.

But the hunger that darkened his eyes had your heart racing and your core pulsing. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing your shift higher until your cunt was bared to him. Aegon felt his mouth water, the realisation that his own stupidity had denied you both such pleasures momentarily passing through him.

“Please, husband…” You pleaded, your hips lifting slightly in a desperate need to feel his touch.

And he wasted no more time. He could deal with his deeper feelings after, right now he wished only to hear you moan for him. His lips planted heated kisses to your inner thighs, trailing a path up one side and down to the other. But never quite where you wanted him.

“Aegon…!”

You could feel his smirk as your frustrated sigh turned to a breathy moan. His hands tightening around your thighs as he buried his face as far as he could get. His tongue tasting every inch of you and groaning at the flavour that coated it.

His eyes flickered up to watch you, your skin hot and flushed. Your hips grinding down onto his face as your moans reached a fever pitch. Aegon wanted nothing more than to commit those sounds to memory. To never forget just how sweet you tasted. You had never felt a pleasure like it, had never felt your husband lust for you as desperately as he did now.

“Mhmm,” your eyes rolled as you felt his groan reverberate through you.

“Almost as sweet as a honey cake, my love…” Aegon whispered into you, adding a single finger along with his tongue.

He could feel your peak approaching, your moans higher and higher in pitch. His own grunts of pleasure vibrating your body as the tight band within finally snapped. Aegon refused to stop as your slick coated his lips and chin, pushing you almost to the brink of overstimulation.

But he had one more thing he needed to ask you. He needed to know you felt as he did. That you felt the same emotions he had forced himself to bury for so long.

“Are you mine? Please…let me hear you say it…”

Your hands tightened in his silver waves as you rolled your hips against him, his tongue lapping lazily now at your cunt. Your heart and body filled with a heady mix of love and desire. The same emotions you now saw in your husband’s eyes.

“Only ever yours…”

Aegon/HOTD Taglist:

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @khaleesihel @legitalicat

@thenameswinter99 @anjelicawrites @sihtricsafin @arcielee

@sylasthegrim @aemondsbabe @itbmojojoejo @multyfangirl

@kaelatargaryen

If I have missed anyone, please let me know. If you wanted to be added to Aegon specific or general HOTD, also let me know!

#anon request #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x you #aegon smut

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afterthatidontknow · 3 months

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₊˚⊹♡ 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . WandaNat x fem! virgin! reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . [based on this request.] Natasha and Wanda's relationship was going well... when talking generally. — they completed each other. but something was still missing. and there was no better person to reach out to, other than you, their closest friend. will you allow them to show you a whole new concept of.. love?

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — established relationship, soft doms WandaNat, subby reader, little bit of angst on the begining if you look very closely, swearing, reader's first time, threesome, making out, Wanda's enchanted strap, breast play (r receives), penetration (r receives), oral (N receives), multiple orgasms, cum eating, pet names, aftercare.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors! feedback is highly appreciated!! <3

never thought it was so hard to write a threesome 😭

divider credits: @anitalenia . ݁₊

small droplets of sweat started to build on Wanda's hairline, ready to roll down — soft pants and huffs leaving her mouth as she desperately tries to increase the pace, the pace that was already fast — she tries to accelerate even more. to get Natasha there, like she always did. but for some reason, it wasn't working. it wasn't being of any use. no matter how she tried to change positions, or angles.. Natasha just breathed heavily, with no result.

"stop, stop.." Natasha pants out and pats Wanda's shoulder, multiple times. "stop, baby. 'ts okay."

the woman reluctantly slows down her movements and groans, a mixture of tiredness and frustration.. and a little bit of sadness. right now, she was feeling so, so incapable, worthless. since when did that happen? since when a woman couldn't even bring her girlfriend an orgasm?

eventually, she pulls the strap out of her, making Natasha hiss quietly due sensitivity. she turns on her back and removes the strap off herself, waving her hand to disenchant it. her hand reaches out and puts the toy on the nightstand. the witch's eyes squeeze tight, clearing her throat as she does her best to catch her breath again.

Natasha of course, didn't need Wanda to tell her how she was feeling. as a spy, and like anybody else in this situation, she knew it. the russian weakly turns on her side and wraps her arm around Wanda's waist, placing her head on her shoulder and looking up into her eyes. deep down, both of them knew this wasn't physical.. it was phychological. lately, whenever it came to sex, both their minds couldn't completely focus on each other — and it wasn't fault of either of them. their toughts always wandered to her, that girl.. you.

"i'm sorry," Wanda whispers, wrapping her arms around Natasha and pulling her to herself. she sighs heavily and nuzzles into her soft red locks. "i'm sorry."

her heart was at war. battling to decide between giving into her desires, or holding back, in respect to Natasha. she just didn't know that the russian felt the same way. both of them did towards you. you're their closest friend, not an avenger, but an ordinary girl. thinking about that, it made sense — two people with a fucked up past, heavy emotional baggage, needed someone like you in their lives. someone soft, gentle, almost innocent, to say at least. the way you dressed, the way you smelled. always captivated the redheads. in the middle of all the chaos they called life, you were their beautiful, sweet escape of routine.

"don't apologize." Natasha replies, voice low and husky as she traces imaginary patterns on Wanda's chest. "i can't read minds like you do, so why don't you tell me what you're thinking about?"

Wanda chuckles at the remark, and turns her head to look at her girlfriend. she takes a slow, shaky breath again. she knows she can't hide anything from Natasha, and wouldn't try to. "look. can you listen to everything i got to say, before making any conclusions or saying anything else?"

Natasha nods, giving her a small, genuine smile, that showed patience. so Wanda started talking again.

"it's.. it's not easy to talk about this, i admit. it's like a taboo, and stuff.. we've been together for three years now, and i love you. i love you so much. i always tell you that and i always mean it. we help each other, we work together, you're the perfect fit for me, Nat. but.. lately, i've been thinking a lot about.."

"i know." Natasha interrupts anyway, and her smile doesn't vanish. "i know you have. i see it. and god, I think about her too."

surprise immediately shows in Wanda's wide eyes, and she exhales the air she was holding. relief washed over her being, even if Natasha hadn't elaborated yet.

"Wanda, darling." she chuckles, nuzzling closer and placing her hand on the woman's cheek. "we struggle sometimes. and it's not our fault. she's a ray of sunshine. it's everything we need, don't you think?"

"are you saying that we should consider.." Wanda says, in a softer tone.. her hand finds it's way to Natasha's back, nails tracing her spine. the mere thought already got her in a better mood. "inviting.. her.. in?"

"yeah." Natasha bits on her bottom lip. both of them had never tried a threesome before, but it seemed like a good idea. it felt like a good idea. if they both had thoughts and maybe even feelings for you, why don't act on them? "let's invite her tomorrow. tomorrow night."

"oh, Natasha." Wanda chuckles, understanding the implication. she leans down to peck Natasha's lips, and looks at her with a new sparkle in her eyes. "are you sure? completely sure about this? i never, ever want to hurt you, or make things weird between us—"

"we trust her. and basically, the only reason that we've been failing is because we want her and don't act on it." Natasha raises her eyebrows and pokes Wanda's nose, then wraps her arms around her neck. "and also. she's not a child. we'll talk about everything, and if it doesn't work out, we'll just seek another solution."

they both stay silent for a moment, and Wanda agrees. she giggles to herself, pulling the blankets over them and snuggling against Natasha, their legs tangling. they went to sleep happily, the tension from before eased because of you. they would just wait for the next day, and hope for the best.

₊˚⊹♡

the word to describe what you were feeling in that moment was: anticipation.

Natasha and Wanda had never invited you over to their place like this: at night, with no special occasion. they had told you they wanted to see you again, and to talk about a few things. you had absolutely no clue about what it was, so jumping to the most probable conclusion was what you did: a casual catch up.

yeah, for sure.

Wanda was the one to open the door after you knocked, and she shamelessly looked at you from head to toe, which got your eyes to snap open. you cleared your throat as she took in the sight of you, in a small, pink dress that covered just a little more than your ass — hair falling down your shoulders, a light makeup.

"Natasha," she calls out, tilting her head towards you. "you gotta see this,"

okay, you were so confused. first, one of your friends that was taken, clearly looks at you in a not so friendly way, and now, she's calling her girlfriend to do the same? you stand there, flustered, a little disoriented.

the other redhead comes. she opens the door wider so she could see you better, and stops in track when her eyes land on your figure. they exchange looks, and silently communicate — as if saying, why didn't we think of this before?

"come in, sweetheart." the russian says and allows you inside the house, closing the door right after.

you observe as the two of them talk between themselves, quickly finishing so they could return their attention to you. they notice how nervous the greeting had made you, and decide to get straight to the business. they sit on the couch, letting a little space between them and patting on it, so you could sit. you place your purse on the entrance counter and chuckle nervously, then walk towards them and sit where they wanted you to.

"so... hi!" you finally speak, still feeling a little awkward. "uhm.. is everything okay with you two?"

"absolutely." Wanda nods, shifting on her seat. her knee brushes against yours as she places her hand on your cheek, thumb caressing your jawline. "you just look so beautiful right now, we couldn't resist."

as she speaks, Natasha's hand lands on your thigh, and you were absolutely sure you looked redder than a tomato right now. but it still felt wrong. you gently placed your hand above both of theirs to still their touches.

"i don't get it."

"alright, dorogaya. that's the whole reason we invited you over." Natasha says and Wanda nods, allowing the russian to explain. "first, we want you to know that is absolutely alright if you don't feel comfortable with this. you can just say 'no' and leave, we're not forcing you into something you don't want to."

by this moment, just with those vague words, combined with their previous actions, you had a slight idea of what this was about, and it made you shiver. ever since you met them, you had a little crush on both, but they were avengers. superheroes, powerful, and older than you. they're gorgeous women that unfortunately were taken— well, you felt lucky just for having their friendship.

"we've been thinking about you. a lot." Natasha admits with a deep breath and purposefully scoots closer, making you almost a little sandwich with them. "the way you talk to us.. the way you look at us whenever we're together."

"like right now. the way your eyes are sparkling." Wanda breathes, her arms sneaking around your waist and her chin on your shoulder.

"you're so perfect.. so precious to us, detka." Natasha whispers and wraps her arms around you too, tilting her head and pressing a kiss on Wanda's forehead, then on yours. "so we want to know, if you're okay with trying out with us."

a deep sigh leaves you, and you melt like a puddle between the women. your weight leans on Wanda's body, and your eyes travel from one to the other. your defenses vanished, completely, and the thought of this being.. uncommon, was buried deep down in your mind.

"trying out?" your voice sounds more like a whimper, and your hand grabs Natasha's wrist, that still rested on your thigh.

"yeah.. trying out." Wanda whispers on your ear, her hand turning your hair into a makeshift ponytail, exposing your neck for them. "just for tonight.. then we'll give you time to think."

"but i never.." you stutter, feeling Natasha's warm breath on your neck, as her lips began trailing kisses there — right above your pulse. "i-i've never.."

"it's okay." Wanda breathes in your ear, watching as Natasha took her sweet time to taste you, feel the softness of your skin. "we're gonna take care of you."

"i never.. i never had.." you continue, voice becoming weaker and weaker. "i never went beyond kisses.."

that was new information. Natasha slowly pulled away from your neck and exchanged a look with Wanda. so you were still a virgin. that just turned them on even more. they'd be the first ones to play with you, make you their good girl.

"god, sweetheart." the witch purrs, her hands cupping your waist and giving it a little squeeze. "you have no idea what you're doing to us."

the action coaxes a soft, needy sound out your throat, head lolling backwards against her shoulder.

"please, baby. let us have you." Natasha begs. you don't gotta be asked twice.

₊˚⊹♡

the room was dark — burgundy walls, the yellow light of the dim lamp casting on the furniture and being the only source of illumination. you couldn't put in words the way you felt. Natasha, naked, the freckles on her pale skin on display for you. toned breasts, muscular arms. red hair naturally wavy, not straightened like she usually had it. she looked like a true goddess. her gaze, hungry yet tender, had you frozen in place.

Wanda's hands guided you towards the bed — her chest against your back, an amused chuckle leaving her. you looked so innocent. it was clear you never even thought of the possibility of that.

"look at her," Wanda coos. Natasha's eyes remain glued on you, but travel to your body as Wanda starts to slowly get that dress off you. her pointer and thumb pull the zipper down and the straps fall down your shoulders, revealing your bra. she kisses your shoulder and places her palms flat on your stomach, letting them roam downwards, to your hips, and pulling the pink fabric of the dress down, as it pools around your feet. the woman hum together in satisfaction, being allowed to see your half-naked body. "such a precious little thing. now go with Nat and watch me strip."

you couldn't help but blush a little bit under their gaze, and the way they were addressing to you. doing as you're told, you climb on the bed, and Nat spreads her legs. your heart hammers against your ribcage. she only did that so you could lay against her chest, but accidentally — or not — your eyes landed on her intimacy, and the slick arousal that was almost dripping down her thighs.

"oh my god, Natasha." you moan, allowing her to pull your back against her chest. she smirks, unclasping your bra and tossing it aside.

now, it's Wanda's turn to get the unnecessary clothes off her. she firstly discard her blouse, then her jeans, and lingerie — she uses her foot to kick the pile of clothes away, and walks to the nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out the.. toy. it does get you a little tense. but they had a way of showing you there was no reason to be. with a wave of her hand, the strap is enchanted, and she will be able to feel everything. everything she dreamed of with you.

"we will take good care of you, kotenok." Natasha whispers and grabs your chin, tilting your head up — and kissing you.

a kiss never felt so good. throughout your whole life, you never had a kiss like this one — warm, slow, needed. her tongue mingled with yours, slender fingers tangling in your hair to keep you in place. Wanda watches with a hungry, almost predatory gaze as she sees her two favourite women making out. she climbs on the bed with you and hooks her fingers on the waistband of your panties, pulling them down — your hips instinctively lifting to make her work easier. you were slowly letting yourself go.

Natasha releases your lips, panting. her hands pull you back even more against herself, pressing your body against hers and go to your breasts, kneading the skin, slowly, massaging them, knowing exactly how to pleasure you. you moan sweetly, throwing your head back against her shoulder as her fingers pinch your hard nipples.

"that's it, baby." Wanda hums, satisfied with the scene. she liked that you were comfortable with them, which meant she could do everything she wanted.

you don't even realize as they start to adjust your body, the positions — Natasha brings her knees up and spread them a little, Wanda bringing your legs around Natasha's, so you were completely spread and open.

"oh, fuck." she says, knees digging into the mattress as she takes a good look between your legs. "such a beautiful pussy. can't believe we're the only ones to have it."

her words make you gasp, and your back arches a little — but before you could do anything, her cock was already stretching you out, with little effort. the woman groans, placing her hands on your waist and hovering you. she leans up and kisses Natasha, a low chuckle leaving her as she whispers. "so warm and wet. she's a perfect girl."

"we're not gonna let you go," Natasha whispers in your ear. her arms wrap around your waist, securing you, and with that, Wanda starts moving.

her movements are gentle — not too slow, not too fast, showing you how it was to be deliciously filled up. the new, foreign sensations consume you, breath coming out in soft gasps. your eyes look at the redhead who was fucking you, half-lidded, in pure bliss, adoration. the strap drags up your sensitive walls, until the tip was the only thing inside of you, then pushes back in, discovering spots you had never found before with your own fingers.

"oh my god," you grip Wanda's shoulder with one hand, and intertwine your fingers of the free hand with one of Natasha's that held your waist. your hips buck upwards, matching the movements with Wanda's cock pounding inside you. "feel so good,"

"you're so tight, detka," Wanda mutters, feeling her climax starting to build up. she had to speed up, had to feel you more, clenching around her so perfectly.

"s-shit... ah.." you moan and arch your back, doing your best not to fall apart that quickly. but Natasha doesn't allow you to hold back.

her hand slides down your stomach, to where Wanda was connected with you, and starts to rub lazy circles on your clitoris, looking up at her girlfriend with a satisfied smirk. "you can come for us,"

"i'm close too," Wanda moans, head lolling back as she grips your hips tighter, chasing after her so needed release, which doesn't take long to come.

your vision starts to blur a little, not being able to focus on anything specific. your eyelids fall shut, and all the sounds around fade — the first real orgasm you ever had washing over you. an almost pornographic moan echoes on the room, coming from your throat, and your legs tremble around Natasha's — cum coating Wanda's strap, juices rolling down your legs and mixing with Natasha's who was under you. Wanda's climax comes right after and she quickly pulls out, painting your stomach white as you laid there, dumb and cute, drained.

Wanda rolls on her back and closes her eyes, the high still present. she hadn't felt that good in so, so long, she had missed it so much. now it's Natasha's turn to take control.

she carefully lays you down next to her and licks Wanda's release from your stomach, missing the taste of it. she takes some on her fingers and point them at your mouth. "open up,"

you blush softly, opening your mouth and welcoming Natasha's fingers in. your tongue swirls around her digits, swallowing obediently.

"good job, malyshka." she praises, cradling the side of your head and pressing a kiss on your forehead. you look at her up and down, then weakly sits up on the bed.

"wanna taste you too, Natty," you say, and it drives her crazy.

undoubtedly, Natasha was more than dripping, and yes, she wanted you to teach you how to eat a woman out. she leans back against the headboard of the bed and intertwines her fingers with her tired girlfriend, winking down at her. she spreads her legs. "come over here, princess."

your legs, still shakily, dig into the mattress and you settle yourself on your knees, hands holding Natasha's thighs apart as your face approaches her core. she was so sensitive and achy.. and you'd repay her, for everything she had done. it shocked her, you didn't show inexperience — your tongue licked a long strip, slipping between her folds and brushing inside her, stimulating her g-spot and making her mouth agape. her fingers gently tug on your hair, pulling you closer, pressing your face against her cunt. your nose brushes her clit, and it doesn't take long for Natasha to cum too.

"oh, malyshka.." she stutters out between moans and whimpers, hips bucking upwards as she released. "s-such a.. perfect.. mhm.. girl.."

you swallow her sweet juices, pressing a kiss on her inner thigh and pulling your face back. just by watching both of their expressions, a tired and proud expression showed on your face, knowing you did a great job.

₊˚⊹♡

now, the digital clock on the nightstand showed 2AM. the sheets were crumpled, blankets all over the floor, long forgotten. you laid there, naked and vulnerable on the bed, waiting for Wanda and Natasha to come back to the room.

when they did, they were both wearing silky robes — Natasha held aspirin and a bottle of water, and Wanda, a cloth, and an additional robe that they hoped would fit you.

they walk towards you and Natasha places the items on the nightstand, sitting on the edge of the bed. she carefully handles your body and pulls you onto her lap, holding you closely, your side against her chest. you felt warm again, fuzzy, happy.

"you were perfect, sweetheart." Wanda smiles, carefully spreading your legs and using the cloth to clean the sticky cum still there. you whimper, feeling a little stingy and sore.

"we got aspirin for tomorrow, in case you need it." Natasha grabs the water bottle and opens it, bringing it up to your lips, helping you sip on it. "there you go..."

"now, we'll sleep. and tomorrow we are gonna prepare you a nice warm bath." Wanda chuckles and puts away the cloth, closing your legs afterwards.

you all settle on the bed comfortably again, having to grab the blanket from the floor and cover you up. you sigh softly, lying between them and gathering courage to speak.

"was this just... a playtime?"

that question was expected, and they were ready for it. they sweetly smile and replied in sync.

"you are our missing piece."

para o anon que fez o pedido: mto mto obrigada!! eu sei que adicionei várias coisas, porém eu precisava de um contexto para encaixar o seu pedido. espero que tenha ficado bom! 🥹

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stellarbit · 3 months

Text

Two Faces pt 2

Word Count: 12.5k Pairing: fem!reader x Bad Batch, light Tech and Crosshair nods Warnings: SFW, bitch of a mother, crosshairs mood swings, Summary: You arrive back home with Clone Force 99 to prepare to be your senator sister's stand in at an upcoming event. Letting the Batch learn more about who you actually are. Part 1 note: hope y'all like it, thank you all who sent in requests for it and suggestions. I live laugh love for this shit man.

“Ensure our guest arrives safely on her homeworld. Report back once the Gala is at an end.” Lama Su instructed Clone Force 99, his inky gaze shifting to where you stood in line with them at the steps to the Marauder. “You are most welcome here on Kamino. You have an open invitation should you find a need for it.”

Since your sister’s appearance, Lama Su’s demeanor shifted from gritted tolerance to that of a generous host. Time spent at your mother’s side taught you a politician’s patience was rarely forthcoming.

You attempted a practiced smile, the kind drilled into you from birth. “That’s something I will truly keep in mind.” Lama Su bowed his head slightly and dismissed himself, retreating back into the hangar doors.

Left alone, neither you or any of Clone Force 99 budged and a heavy silence settled over the group. From the corner of your eye, you noticed a few heads turn your way. Looking anywhere but directly at them, you piped up, “Ready whenever you are, Sergeant.” Despite Tech’s reassurances that everything had worked out 'better than predicted,' falling back into rhythm with Clone Force 99 was proving more difficult than you had hoped.

Hunter was the first to move. “Alright then, let’s move out.” He turned and you all followed, with you trailing after Crosshair as the last of the group.

Midway up the stairs Crosshair turned and extended a hand to you - an offer of assistance and perhaps a peace offering. A gesture you walked right by. Crosshair retracted his hand and, mostly, kept his frustration in his throat.

They’d told you about their ship, a modified Omicron-class attack shuttle, but being on it was certainly a different experience. The smell alone disenchanted your anticipation. Touches of the different men were strewn throughout. A knocked over stack of history magazines, food wrappers, half used tins of gun oil, and what looked to be sliced up target practice sheets. It was fairly easy to see who left what, but oddly enough there was hardly a trace of Echo.

Tech caught your hesitant inspection and directed you to the passenger seats. “Sit here during take-off.” Tech pointed to a seat equipped with restraints. “Once we make the jump into hyperspace, it will be safe for you to navigate the ship.” You silently took a seat, pulling the over-the-shoulder restraints into place.

Tech left for the pilot’s seat, Echo already in position as the copilot. Hunter positioned himself in front of a navigational screen, between the cockpit and your seats, while Wrecker and Crosshair accompanied you in the restraint seats. The restraints barely accommodated Wrecker’s size, causing his arms to push into your space as he sat on your left. Across from you, Crosshair stared you down.

In the hours between the confrontation with your sister and packing onboard the Marauder you’d deliberately avoided Crosshair. He, on the other hand, tracked you with that hawkish watch of his and didn’t take his eyes off you.

His watching you, deciphering you, was a part of him processing the shifted dynamics. Much like you trying to piece together how Tech found out your identity, Crosshair ran through your weeks together, over and over, searching for all the clues he’d missed. He searched your face as if the specks on your face would tell him.

Mostly, he kept counting the scars on your face. One nicked across your nose, likely from his elbow cracking you across the face. Another cut through your eyebrow with a matching one sat on top of your cheekbone. Admitting to himself, it was difficult to discern which of his many blows might have caused these specific marks.

A large part of him actively ignored the thought of what bruises may be hidden beneath your clothes..

He grit his teeth as he watched you continue to pointedly ignore him. He thought bitterly, If you’d just told us from the beginning I wouldn’t have been so severe. Your eyes cut to him with a look as sharp as his. Crosshair narrowed his eyes, a silent challenge between you. Your only response was a twist of your mouth, looking away in disinterest.

“Care to share what’s on that pretty little mind of yours?” The sneer in Crosshair’s voice had you closing your eyes, summoning your remaining patience. “Or do you want to keep us all in the dark?”

You rolled out your jaw, nodding through a deep breath. Settling on the sorriest excuse for a smile, you responded, “It must be difficult to never know when to shove off.” Your words elicited a low growl from the sniper, adding genuine enjoyment to your expression.

Wrecker sat still, gripping his ill fit restraints and keeping his good eye on you with a sideways look. Unlike his brother, Wrecker had made no attempts to push you up to that point. While roughing up a reg during training was standard for him, realizing it had been you all along left him uneasy. The memory of how you had fought against his grip when he had you by the throat now churned his stomach.

The entire vessel shifted and blue light cascaded through the ship. “We’ve made the jump into hyperspace.” Echo announced from the cockpit.

Crosshair shoved himself free of the restraints and stalked off for the front of the ship. You attempted to follow suit, but your restraints didn’t release as smoothly.

Frustration got the better of you and you rammed your hands twice into the bars before Wrecker gently released the safety device. He crouched down to your eye level, anxiety pulling at him. “Listen, I didn’t know it was you under that armor.” He shook his head lightly. “And I’d do it again with any reg… But I-I’m sorry it was you.” Wrecker’s eyes searched the floor for something else to say.

His expression tugged at your heart just enough for you to cave. “Wrecker,” you leaned forward and touched his shoulder. “I’m not mad with you, you couldn’t have known and, honestly, would be weirder if you had.” Wrecker kept his gaze averted, guilt still eating him.

“I take offense to that.” Tech chimed as he walked over.

Ignoring him, you gently turned Wrecker’s face to you. “The only reason I’m upset is that you would ever think this was a game to me.”

His eyes went wide and his head snapped back. “No, no! I never said that!”

“Then why lie and play soldier?” Crosshair said simultaneously from his seat next to Hunter. Crosshair placed a toothpick in his mouth and reclined.

“Crosshair, stow it!” Wrecker snapped, pivoting on the balls of his feet. “You’re just making it worse.”

You truly believed that coming from anyone else, the question might not have stung so sharply. But coming from Crosshair, it made you want to scream.

“You know what?” You took a deep breath and stood, gently nudging Wrecker aside. As you exhaled, you clapped your hands together, your attempt to stay calm crumbling as your voice escalated to a yell. “I’m sorry. I am. I am sorry for going along with your mix-up!”

Crosshair grit his teeth and tensed in his chair, a snake ready to strike.

Puffing your chest out, you thrust a finger at him, “I wasn’t playing soldier. I want to join my sister’s guard, so my mother sent me to train. If no one knew I was here and I got the training, I was going to do just that.” You groaned at the thought. The edge in your voice ebbed as you lamented, “Letting you think I was my sister seemed like an easy alibi. I’m sorry I lied to you, but I’d do it again if I had to.”

The topic begged the question, what will happen now that they know?

Tech, not fully grasping the situation, interjected, “Requiring you to mask your presence suggests this wasn’t a decision she was happy with.”

That was not a road you wanted to go down with them. Waving the comment aside with a flippant hand you replied. “She had a different plan for my life. This was just her making sure I knew what I was getting into.” You were surprised at how convincing your tone sounded.

Hunter turned away from the navigational screen, leaning back with a foot propped up on his knee, clearly skeptical. “She had to have known you’d get the kriff kicked out of you with us—or worse. Why not just send you to train with your sister’s guard?

Your chest tightened at the question. “Mother only wants what’s best,” you lied smoothly. Gesturing towards them all, you added in a lighter tone, “Besides, why train with guards when I can learn from the elite?”

Leaning against the back of Hunter’s chair, Echo looked incredulous. “Have you ever even stepped foot in a training facility before?”

You hummed an affirmative, holding your breath, but with the eyes of unconvinced soldiers on you, you quickly exhaled and admitted, “No.”

“In that case,” Tech said, pointing a finger at you. “I’m impressed you managed to only get your nose broken once.”

“We broke your nose?” Hunter sat upright suddenly, surprise in his voice. You resisted the urge to touch your nose or glance at Crosshair.

“I chose this,” you stated firmly, pressing a hand to your chest. “I had chances to back out, and I came anyway. I’d rather you treat me like the clone you thought I was than look at me with pity.” You gestured towards Hunter, whose face was an odd mix of pity and concern. “Honestly, I’d prefer that,” you added, nodding towards Crosshair.

You had hoped the small gesture would serve as your own olive branch, but a glance at Crosshair told you it hadn’t worked. He maintained a tight-lipped frown, his expression stubbornly aggravated. The standoff between you two lingered until you took a step towards him, and he rose from his chair, meeting you halfway with a defiant stance.

“What more could you possibly want from me?” you demanded, hands flaring palms up. There was a raw satisfaction in shedding the veil of polite politics and expressing your true feelings. Voicing your frustration felt liberating, like stretching long-dormant muscles.

Crosshair tilted his head down to meet your gaze, the toothpick rolling to one corner of his mouth. His voice was low and steady, “You attacked me.”

Fury surged through you as you snatched the toothpick from his lips. “Attacked you?” you nearly shouted, incredulous.

Leaning in, Crosshair scrutinized your seething expression, face flushed and fists clenched. Then, unexpectedly, a barely there smile cracked his scowl. Now he was just having fun.

“Crosshair.” Hunter warned as he slowly started to rise.

“You heard me,” Crosshair retorted swiftly, emphasizing each word, “You. Attacked. Me.”

Echo was too slow to intervene as you grabbed the lip of Crosshair’s chestplate. He snorted dismissively, and you were consumed by a silent, burning rage. Something primal snapped within you, and without words, only a fierce growl escaped you as you lunged at Crosshair, hands driven by pent-up anger.

Crosshair began to laugh, a mocking, bitter sound that only fueled your rage as Hunter grabbed him and pulled him back. Echo swiftly moved between you two, his arms outstretched to create a barrier. Your fingers slipped from Crosshair’s armor as you reached desperately past Echo, trying to get at the sniper.

Hunter, his frustration evident, shoved Crosshair further away and then spun around, pointing a finger sharply at you He then turned to address both of you, his voice raised over the commotion. “How many times do we have to break you two up?” His tone was stern, a mix of reprimand and exasperation reflecting the strain of repeatedly managing your confrontations.

As Hunter pushed Crosshair further away, Crosshair shot back a snarky, taunting remark. "If she could keep her hands to herself, we wouldn't need breaking up."

With a low growl, you threw the toothpick still clutched in your hand, watching it strike Crosshair squarely in the face. It was a minor victory, but seeing his annoyance flare was satisfying. Stepping back slightly, no longer trying to shove past Echo, you fixed Crosshair with a taunting smirk. “Ah, so that’s what’s bothering you. This is the first time a woman’s touched you without a medkit.”

Hunter, witnessing the petty exchange, rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Enough!" he barked, hand chopping in front of him. "We’re on a mission, and I need you two to not kill each other. If I have to keep you separated until we reach our destination, I will."

Notching his hand at his hip, Hunter sighed. Looking at you he shook his head. “Well, you certainly don’t act like a Senator.” Amusement lifted the tattooed side of his mouth.

“Or a soldier,” Crosshair added sharply, slipping another toothpick into his mouth. He watched you a second longer before giving a light scoff, “But good to know our little kitten has grown claws.”

‘Little kitten’ heated your face but Echo guided you away before you could take the bait. “If you haven’t stepped foot in a training facility,” he said, ushering you towards the front of the ship. “What about the cockpit of an attack shuttle?”

And with that you were distracted, allowing for the rest of the journey to pass in relative peace. Aided largely by the fact that you and Crosshair now had a ship and four soldiers between you.

As the ship began its descent, Tech started detailing the time differences and adjusting for the local standard. Wrecker, seated beside you, yelled, “Yeah, yeah, we can tell it’s late.”

“Or really early,” you quipped, nudging him playfully. Truly, you hadn’t kept track. It turned out to be late into the evening.

Echo and Crosshair had swapped seats, positioning Crosshair in the copilot's seat and further from you. Sitting across from you, Echo leaned forward slightly, curiously asking, “Who do you think is receiving you?”

“Receiving me?” You parroted in confusion.

Wrecker nudged you playfully, flashing a grin. “Yeah! Who’s waiting for ya at the platform?”

Your eyebrows shot up as you glanced down, realizing you hadn't considered this. Normally, no one 'received' you unless your sister was visiting home. You managed a smile, easing into the conversation. “That’s not really a tradition of ours.”

“That’s odd,” Tech said, extending his neck out and raising his voice to ensure you heard him. “I read that the planet’s governor, that is your mother, is well known for her welcoming of distinguished guests.”

“Well, I’m not a guest,” you responded sharply, a hint of bitterness in your voice. With a forced laugh and a casual flip of your hand, you added to cover your misstep, “That is, I’m not just a guest, I’m family.”

As the ship landed and the restraints remained locked in place, Crosshair spoke for the first time in hours. “Looks like you’re wrong about that.” His tone made you strain against your restraining bars in attempts to see outside.

You were unable to see anything but the sky view of the hangar. But you were sure of it, if anyone was there it was your sister. The thought flipped your stomach.

As soon as the restraints unlocked—and Wrecker helped free you—you dashed for the exit. Crosshair was at the mouth of the exit when you pushed past him, hurrying down the stairs. Your chest heaved with anticipation as you spun around, searching for a familiar face, but your sister was nowhere to be seen.

As you were about to have words with Crosshair, your attention snagged on the sight of three clone troopers walking around the ship. Approaching you were two unmarked clones flanking a Clone Captain distinguished by teal blue markings.

CT-7569, the Captain assigned to your planet. The clone presence was meant to be a show of good faith by the Republic, but your mother treated them as ornamental. They ‘maintained peace’ by bolstering your mother’s security and accompanying important trade vessels. CT-7569 usually escorted your mother - you found it made her presence more tolerable. In the end, you and the Captain spent many mindless political gatherings in each other’s company.

As the Captain approached, you wracked your brain trying to recall the name he went by. Embarrassment set in as you realized you might never have known his name, despite having memorized his designation number long ago.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you stepped forward with a genuine smile. “Captain,” you greeted warmly.

“Good to see you back, Miss,” the Captain replied as he halted a few feet away, his men positioning themselves to his sides. His helmet shifted slightly, his gaze drifting past you. “I was wondering if you’d return. I hardly believed it when they said you went to Kamino.”

You edged closer, lowering your voice to a hiss. “How do you know about that?”

“You left with the Governor and Senator, but only they returned. Seeing as how that flight log only showed a trip to Kamino… well it wasn’t hard to figure out.” He chuckled, the sound echoing slightly inside his helmet as he reached up to remove it. The familiar features of the Captain started showing, all wrinkled by an amused smile. “So, how’d that conversation go?” he asked, referring to your discussion with your mother about your plans. His gaze then darted past you, doing a double-take. “Wait—is that the Bad Batch?”

You gave an empty blink. “The what now?” A smile wobbled your lips. They certainly never mentioned that.

CT-7569 nodded, letting out an impressed laugh. “Experimental Unit 99. They call themselves the Bad Batch.” His eyes held a touch of shock before he shifted to a questioning look at you. “This is definitely a story I want to hear.”

“Captain,” Hunter greeted, stepping up beside you with Echo on his other side, while Tech positioned himself next to you. Wrecker and Crosshair presumably took places behind you, maintaining their distance. They all kept their helmets on, reminding you of the edge ‘regs’ put them on.

CT-7569 straightened up, his accompanying clones mimicking his posture, and he replaced his helmet. “I’ve heard good things about your squad, Sergeant. Good to meet you, men.” He extended a hand to Hunter, and they clasped each other’s forearms in a soldierly greeting.

“Thank you, sir.” Hunter nodded

As the Captain and Hunter exchanged pleasantries, you desperately thought back for the Captain’s name. You had faint recollections of hearing it in passing or his men occasionally dropping formalities. Those snippets were vague but persistent, hinting you were just a syllable away from full recognition.

The Captain looked back to you and the name clicked in place. He began telling you something, but your thoughts were far from his voice. Instead you were lost in the thought of having treated the clone before you, a soldier who offered you kindness when that was beyond the scope of his mission, as just a nameless soldier. You were always polite and grateful for their support and the respect you had for clones inspired you to protect your sister, but you’d rarely thought of who they were beyond soldiers.

And with him, you were practically friends.

“Miss?” The Captain’s voice finally reeled you back in. When he saw your focus return he said, “The Governor gave no orders for your arrival, but we can take the men to our barracks wing to settle in.” Pivoting to his men, he began giving orders to escort Clone Force 99.

You quickly cut in.

“Howzer,” The name immediately silenced him. He seemed caught off by the sound of his name on your tongue. “There is plenty of room in my wing. I’ll show them up.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you pressed on, “The Governor didn’t issue orders because their mission requires discretion. An empty wing is more suitable than a barrack on full display.” You’d taken some liberties speaking for your mother, but he didn’t need to know that. Instead you added, “Which reminds me, why are you here if she gave no orders.”

Howzer chuckled warmly. "I spotted an inbound ship from Kamino on the flight manifest this afternoon. I figured it was you and couldn’t resist the chance to see you limping off of a ship.” The sentiment made you laugh. He added, nodding his head, “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“She held her own,” Hunter came up beside you with a hand on your shoulder. “Even got the better of one of us once.”

“Twice.” You quickly corrected, earning a disgruntled noise from the sniper behind you. The curious tilt in Howzer’s helmet, from behind you and back, made you smile.

“Well then,” Howzer relaxed, a smile in his voice. “We’ll leave you to it. I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned to depart, but you reached out and grasped his arm to stop him. He looked from your hand to your face.

“Thank you, Howzer,” you said earnestly, sliding your hand down to his and giving it a warm squeeze. “For being my friend.”

His helmet shifted back slightly, caught off guard once more. After a brief pause, he nodded and returned the squeeze gently. “No need to thank me,” he responded lightly. “Just a perk of the job,” he addressed you by name and you could have heard the wink in his voice. You realize he might have never said it before. Howzer turned away with his squad following. As they walked off, one of the troopers elbowed him lightly, only to receive an aggressive shove in return.

“I think I might be sick.” Crosshair murmured from behind you.

You snorted, looking over your shoulder at him. “Feeling queasy, huh? Maybe it’s just your batch going bad,” you teased, giving a playful nod to the nickname you had just learned. Crosshair groaned and Echo coughed to hide a laugh. Bad joke.

“Oh, c’mon.” You gestured for them to follow. “Let’s get to bed.”

Your family home was an architectural marvel built into the side of a mountain, its expansive windows offering a panoramic view of your planet’s capital city below. The residence had been in your family for generations, serving not just as a home but as a political hub, given your family's long history of public service. Though not every generation produced a Governor, there always seemed to be someone who utilized the sprawling estate as a political stage. Under your mother and sister’s tenure, it had practically transformed into an embassy.

Nestled on the quieter, mountain-facing side of the house were your private quarters. Your room, located at the end of a secluded corridor, offered a reprieve from the politics of the main halls. The other two rooms along your corridor remained mostly unoccupied, reserved for the occasional guest, a benefit of your mother's preference to keep you out of the public eye.

You paused at the door next to yours, explaining the solitude of your hall. Extending a hand towards the spare room, you said, “Either room can accommodate your squad, but feel free to use one or both.”

The group exchanged looks, weighing their options. Echo mumbled something about needing a break from the usual barracks scent, but ultimately, they decided to stick together. Their loyalty to one another reminded you of the times your sister would stealthily retreat to your room during her political campaigns. On especially tough days, she would stay the night, and in the early, dark hours of the morning, you would both slip away to the nearby hot springs.

The memory used to be a safe haven for you. Now it left you feeling oddly cold.

After bidding the boys goodnight, you retreated to your room. Setting aside a bag for the morning, you prepared for a much-needed early soak in the warm springs.

Waking well before dawn, you were eager for the comforting waters. From the back of your closet, you retrieved an old rope ladder with patches of fabric woven into it—evidence of years of repairs. Hardly necessary now, the ladder had been a crucial part of your escapades during your younger years, when you were more tightly bound by your mother’s expectations.

Your room opened onto a quaint veranda, bordered by sturdy stone balusters. This railing, carved from the mountain itself, served as your usual escape route.

As you’d done numerous times, you tied the rope off and unfurled it over the ledge of the terrace. Peering down, you were reassured to see the ladder hanging just a few feet above the ground. Despite the 100-foot drop, a few firm tugs on the knots confirmed it was secure. Bag slung over your shoulder, you straddled the railing, preparing to make your descent.

“That would not be advisable.”

The unexpected voice sent a jolt through you, your arms instinctively gripping the railing to prevent a startled fall. Pressing your face against the cold stone, you scanned for the source of the interruption.

The veranda wrapped around the building, with each room opening onto its own curved section. There, leaning casually against the railing of the adjacent balcony, were Tech and Hunter. Hunter rested his elbows on the railing, a cup of caf hanging between his hands, while Tech leaned his hip against the railing, also sipping his drink. Both were wearing a set of black casual clothes, a long sleeve shirt and pants. It was Tech who had called out to you.

Tech adjusted his goggles, scrutinizing the rope ladder with a critical eye. After a moment, he relaxed slightly and nodded to himself. “The multiple repairs, along with the current condition of the rope, significantly compromise its integrity. If you attempt to climb down, the likelihood of the rope failing is high. You would fall from approximately,” he paused, his gaze measuring the drop, “68 feet.”

“You don’t know that,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you climbed back onto the safety of the veranda.

“Care to test that theory?” Tech retorted, an amused challenge in his tone, though he already knew your answer.

Instead of responding, you walked over to the stone wall divider, where vines clung and crawled up its surface. Grabbing one, you used it for leverage to hoist yourself onto the railing and then climbed along the railing to their side of the veranda.

Hunter, witnessing the muscle memory in your movements, took a leisurely sip of his caf. "Does that come from having a sister too?" he commented dryly, watching as you landed beside them.

You snorted, “More from young rebellious years.” Glancing around, you noticed the absence of the other men

“Still asleep.” Hunter answered your search, gesturing a thumb over his shoulder. Hunter stood to face you, half sitting on the railing and looking you over with a raised brow. “What exactly were you doing?”

You nodded towards the treeline and the forest beyond. “There’s a hot spring not too far up the mountain.” Tech set his cup on the stone handrail and pulled out his datapad, tapping a few buttons as you continued, “My sister and I used to sneak out from time to time for a dip.”

Tech, always the analyst, chimed in, “I am picking up a heat signature a kilometer out.” He pivoted, scanning in other directions. “This mountain must have volcanic properties to create such a natural phenomenon.”

Impressed, you hummed in agreement. “You’re not wrong—”

“I seldom am,” Tech interjected, still focused on his device.

“—the mountain was once a volcano,” you finished, matching his flat tone.

Tech, now fully absorbed in geological data, murmured, “Fascinating how such places become sanctuaries over time.”

Hunter half-sat on the railing as he watched the sky beginning to lighten. Following his line of sight, you asked, “Are you two always the first ones up?”

“We’re terrible sleepers,” Hunter replied, throwing a knowing glance at Tech. “Tech’s brain doesn’t have an off switch.”

Tech rolled his eyes as he switched from his datapad to the device on his forearm. "And his heightened senses make him easy to disturb," he explained, tapping a few buttons before squinting at the screen. "So, yes, to answer your question—Hunter and I are usually awake before the others."

You heard Crosshair before you saw him. “Not for long with your prattling.” Crosshair appeared, pushing through a fabric curtain. Despite the dim morning light, he squinted as he joined you outside, his gaze shifting between you as if searching for an unsaid clue. Finally his eyes looked you over and he sucked on a tooth, asking, “Here with our orders so soon?” You didn’t miss the lighter tone in his voice. He was joking with you.

Well that’s a good step.

The early hour dampened your mood for bickering, so you forced a smile instead of biting back. “You are as lovely in the mornings as I’ve dreamt.” you quipped, immediately regretting your choice of words by the look he shot you, avoiding his smirk by pretending to brush dirt off of your sleeve. “On the note though, we can expect a droid with our instructions sometime-”

“Mistress?!” A panicked,metallic female voice echoed from your quarters.

“Now, apparently,” you huffed, impressed yet annoyed by the droid’s timing. “Just a second, 9-E!” you called back to the protocol droid now audibly clattering through your rooms. The three men barely had a moment to react before you turned back to the ivy-covered wall. “Another reason to be glad you stopped me,” you tossed over your shoulder as you climbed.

By the end of the next hour, your family’s silver protocol droid was leading you and the Batch to your mother’s salon. It was the room she formally received visitors in and her typical venue for confrontation. You were particularly worried about the latter category.

“9-E,” you said, holding the droid back by the shoulder just before reaching the salon's doors. The droid swiveled its head to face you, and you gave its shoulder a reassuring pat. “I need to speak with my mother alone. You can come by afterwards, okay?”

The droid seemed to fuss for a moment but ultimately nodded, its voice a mix of concern and programmed calm. “Try not to provoke her this time, Young Mistress. She is in good spirits this morning,” it advised before waddling away. 9-E had been a loyal fixture in your life, often acting as a stand-in nanny. You respected its reverence for your mother, which is why you spared it from witnessing the more challenging family moments.

“What exactly are we walking into?” Hunter mumbled to you.

“Nothing to worry about.” You reassured, but you had a feeling your face didn’t match your tone.

Pushing open the heavy salon doors, you stepped into a room bathed in morning light, offering a panoramic view of the capital. The salon was meticulously arranged with luxurious decor that spoke of your family’s political heritage. At the far end, your mother, the Governor, stood two steps up by a large window, her silhouette framed against the cityscape.

The tall woman stood in a deep purple dress with an overcoat of similar color, all with golden embroidery. Her eyes combed the lot of you as you approached, her expression undeniably cold. There were no witnesses present so there was no show to put on.

In fact, the lack of guards or attendants did not bode well for the conversation.

You paused at the base of the steps leading up to where she stood, the rest of Clone Force 99 arrayed slightly behind. They all stood firm with their helmets tucked under their arms.

“Good job on the prompt return,” she said, cold yet perfectly polite, as if she were addressing a droid rather than her daughter.

“I would never keep you waiting,” you responded, maintaining the formal veneer.

Her lips twitched in what might have been a smile on a more congenial face but came off as a grimace. “You’ve already done so,” she said crisply. “Come here.”

Not wanting to further prove her point, you immediately ascended the steps. She reached out abruptly, her fingers clamping around your chin with a firmness that bordered on painful. Slowly, she moved your face side to side examining the marks, some still pink, on your face. Her lip curled. “The only thing you had going for you,” she murmured disdainfully, releasing your face with a sharp flick of her wrist.

Turning her gaze on the men assembled a step below, she gestured towards you without looking back. “Surely, the Prime Minister instructed you not to coddle her.”

Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech exchanged uncertain glances. From where they stood, it did not look like they coddled you. Crosshair and Echo kept their eyes on your mother. One was coiled for her next move while the other knew better than to take his eyes off an unpredictable politician.

Hunter didn’t recall Lama Su giving that directive and he didn’t have the political finesse to know what answer your mother wanted to hear. His eyes slid to you once more, before answering with cautious formality. “We trained her as rigorously as any member of the Republic's forces, Governor.”

Your mother's attention drifted downward contemplatively before returning to you with a subtle nod. Waving a hand at you, she managed a disappointed smile as she addressed Clone Force 99. “And that is all an elite clone force is capable of?” She held up a finger, considering something for a moment. Without further comment, she moved gracefully around to your back.

Her hands felt cold and foreign, you barely resisted the urge to lean out of her probing touch. With pressure she slid her hands over your shoulders and down your back, probing for vulnerabilities. Occasionally her hand grazed a bruise, at which you tensed but didn’t react further. Then, her fingers found their mark—just behind your shoulder, a spot still tender from Crosshair drilling into you.

As the pain sharply cut through your muscle, you instinctively jerked forward. Your mother's firm grip on your shoulder kept you in place as she pressed harder into the tender spot. The discomfort escalated until a grunt of pain escaped you, at which point she finally eased up. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed movement among the clones.

"There we are," she crooned, her voice chillingly soft as she pushed you toward the troopers. "My apologies for questioning your efficacy."

You hardly stumbled, but cleared your throat against the still present ache in your shoulder. Straightening out, you kept your eyes averted. You’d withstood your mother’s treatment your entire life. You let yourself believe it served a purpose. Whether it was to raise you to her standards or simply to prove her point. This felt different. Humiliating you served no purpose at this moment. After a lifetime of this, you thought, perhaps it’s just what you deserved.

Finally, you looked at Clone Force 99 thinking you’d find them at attention, trained into stoicism. Instead, they no longer stood in line.

Crosshair was further out than the others, mid-step, nearly mid-bite and restrained only by Wrecker's firm grip on his shoulder. Wrecker himself stood uncharacteristically still, his usual demeanor replaced by seriousness. Wrecker was holding Crosshair back, but you’d be forgiven to think he was urging his brother on. Beside him, Hunter and Echo mirrored each other’s posture, frowning with fists clenched at their sides, looking like they were about to snap. At the end of the line, Tech maintained the most composed state, though a slight frown tugged at his features as he held a finger to the light on his goggles.

Theirs was more of a reaction than most who had witnessed a glimpse of your mother. These men barely knew you and they didn’t think you deserved this.

They didn’t deserve to see this.

You offered a smile to the men who barely knew you. None of them moved as you tucked your hands behind your back and faced your mother.

She didn’t bother meeting your gaze, rolling her eyes away as to not entertain whatever confidence struck you. “The Gala is tomorrow evening, you will be briefed later.” Later, her always had a vague way of leaving you waiting. “Make yourselves scarce until then.” She waved you off, turning to face the cityscape again as if you and the situation at hand were little more than a minor inconvenience in her day.

You gave a respectful bow and swiftly made for the door. Without hesitating, you passed directly between the members of Clone Force 99, not waiting to see if they offered any form of courtesy to your mother before following you.

You all stayed silent until you made it back into the corridor.

“Now you see the reason for the rope ladder.” You said lightly as you led them away.

Echo quickened his step to match yours, a look of concern - if not anger - on his face. “What happened there? That woman is your mother?” He gestured incredulously back towards the salon, shaking his head “She’s... she’s cruel.”

“Always has been.” you replied with a shrug, not bothering to hide your truth anymore. “I’m just sorry you saw it.”

“Someone like that shouldn’t be leading people.” Echo asserted.

You didn’t stop walking, but managed to side eye Echo. “She’s not like that with others.” That answer didn’t calm the cyborg.

Tech chimed in from behind, his datapad beeping softly. “It’s surprising she hasn’t been exposed on the Holonet with that kind of behavior.”

“You’ll understand once you see her tomorrow. There’s no surprise in it.” you scoffed, leading them further away from the scene.

The group murmured amongst themselves, clearly troubled by the encounter. Wanting to shift their focus from your mother, you planned to seize the opportunity presented by the early morning chill in the air.

As you approached your rooms, you spun around, effectively blocking their access to their quarters with a playful stance. They all looked so somber.

“Enough of that.” You said sternly, but there was a lightness in your chest that you hadn’t felt in ages. They remained in similar shades of uncertainty.

The absurdity of it all hit you —the idea that your mother, with just a small show of herself, could unsettle a group of battle-hardened soldiers. These men faced deadly threats without flinching, yet here they were, shaken by the woman who raised you. The stark contrast between their usual bravado and their current discomfort was ridiculous, really.

Laughter burst from you, resonant and unrestrained, filling the stone corridor. Echo muttered something to Hunter that you didn’t catch, but it only fueled your amusement further. Your sides began to ache, pulling at a tender bruise, yet you continued to chuckle through the discomfort. For a moment, you thought you’d never be able to stop.

Wrecker’s brows were the first to lift as he surveyed his brothers’ reactions. You covered your mouth with your hand, another laugh threatening to bubble out. Crosshair and Tech shared a look of confusion and evident disturbance. The sight of Tech’s furrowed brow and slightly open mouth pushed you over the edge again.

As the last waves of humor receded, you clutched your sides, threw your head back, and expelled one final, drawn-out sigh. A lazy smile spread across your face as you met their gazes once more. Shaking your head, you teased, “You face droid armies and risk your lives every day.” You gestured dismissively towards the direction of your mother’s salon. “And one measly Governor ruffles your feathers?”

A short pause passed and Tech said in a flat tone, “I think I am glad to not have had a mother.” Echo groaned, covering his eyes with his hand, but you found the sentiment funny.

To shake the residual tension, you sighed, “Listen, I really don’t want to dwell on her right now. Instead…” You slid back a few steps, nodding over your shoulder with an adventurous glint. “Come with me to the hot springs?”

Wrecker perked up first. "The hot springs?" His interest was evident as he shared a smile with his brothers, but Hunter remained reserved, arms crossed, his expression tight.

"They're worth the hike," you coaxed, waving them to follow. "It's not far, and it's the perfect way to unwind."

Hunter's brow furrowed as he considered the risks. "We don’t know when the Governor might call us back. It's best not to stray too far," he advised pragmatically. With a heavy sigh, he added, "I'll stay back, keep watch for any messages."

"Same here," Echo interjected, raising his scomp-link arm slightly. "Besides, long soaks really aren't my thing anymore."

You looked hopefully at the remaining three. Wrecker pumped his fist in the air, clearly eager. Surprisingly, Crosshair, despite his sour look, gave a shrug. "I’m in," he said, placing a toothpick bobbing between his lips.

Tech pulled his datapad out, but gave a quick wave. “I will join as well. I'm curious about the natural phenomenon." He paused, pointing a finger at you. "However, we're definitely not using your ladder."

That comment drew a wary look from Wrecker. "Ladder?" he asked.

Which made sense once the lot of you stood at your veranda’s railing. Tech and Crosshair were down to their blacks, the closest You’d just finished pulling up your ladder when Wrecker stepped back. “On second thought, you guys go ahead. I’ll stay here.” He said uneasily.

You spun on him. “What?!”

Hunter clapped him on the shoulder, chuckling. "Come on, Wrecker, it's not that high."

Tech stepped up beside you to peek over the railing. “That’s about 20 feet too high for his comfort,” he clarified, diagnosing Wrecker’s hesitation. “He's not great with heights.

Wrecker rubbed the back of his neck, his discomfort apparent. “Yeah, I’ll pass this time,” he admitted, resigning himself.

“Alright,” Echo interjected, heading back inside. "Let’s go find some food then," he suggested, inviting Wrecker to join him in a more comfortable pursuit.

Hunter pushed off from his spot leaning against the railing. “You three have fun, but don’t be too long.” He followed after Echo and Wrecker, pausing at the doorway to your quarters to sigh, “Just don’t kill each other.”

The annoyed sound Crosshair usually made at such comments didn’t come. Looking as bored as ever, Crosshair was busy scoping out the ground below. His lack of response felt underwhelming. He passed a cool look at you before silently grabbing for the bag he and Tech brought. From it he pulled a grappling hook and a descent device.

Tossing the device at Tech, Crosshair tossed the bag over his shoulder. “I’m going down first.” He pointed a finger at Tech. “You get to carry her down.”

The three of you ventured to the hot springs, Crosshair notably silent for the duration of the journey. Once there, Tech immediately scoped the surrounding area. The hot springs were a true miracle of the mountain. Nestled at the bottom of a hollow, a handful of pools steamed off into the branching hanging above. The pools were all interconnected, hot water bubbling between them and lapping against the smooth stones lining their boundaries.

This quiet nook, forgotten by all but you, was your sanctuary. The cloud forest and warm waters felt like a personal sacrament, and sharing them with someone, especially Tech with his eager fascination, filled you with a sense of happiness. A feeling that quickly vanished upon looking at Crosshair. The residual smile fell from your face. He wasn’t looking at you but his face was one of disinterest.

The spectrum of Crosshair you’d witnessed over the course of a few days made you realize how little you truly knew the men of Clone Force 99. You’d expected their reaction in various shades of Tech’s reaction. Annoyance and skepticism you’d prepared for, not this sudden coldness.

Only a few hours prior he’d seemed at least cordial for the first time since learning the truth. Now, he seemed unable to even look at you.

When it came time to shed your outerwear, Crosshair’s reaction was sharp. A sweeping look of you sent distaste across his features, and he turned away, leaving abruptly. Tech dismissed it as just another example of Crosshair’s stubborn nature, but to you, it felt deeply personal.

You checked yourself before entering the waters. Outside of a few bruises he would’ve known about, there was nothing scandalous about your bathing suit.

Moving from his perch at the edge of the pool, Tech dipped into the waters next to you. He shook his head, gesturing to where Crosshair had stood. “Problem?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, determined not to let Crosshair's attitude dampen the moment. Leaning back against the warm rocks, you turned towards Tech, who was now unguarded and bare in the water. “Perhaps one,” you said with a light tone, your eyes inadvertently scanning his exposed skin.

Your eyes roved Tech’s bare upper body, thankful for your already present flush from the springs. As Tech lifted his goggles to defog them, you peek beneath the water's surface and your face heated at the realization that he was completely nude. Once his goggles were back in place, he caught your gaze. “And what would that be?”

“You are naked,” you pointed out, an amused undertone in your voice.

Without missing a beat, Tech replied, “And your clothes are transparent.” His response made you snap your attention to your own attire. To your horror, Tech was right - the wet fabric had gone see-through.

Tech glanced down at himself, seemingly puzzled, then shrugged. “As I have never partaken in such recreation before, I merely followed your example” The bubbling waters filled the brief silence that followed. Tech’s gaze flicked from your chest back to your eyes, his expression marked by genuine confusion. “What is the issue?” he asked.

Not even a shadow of understanding graced his face, he was devoid of any of your engrained reservations. It occurred to you that perhaps the social nuances of nudity were lost on clones. What use would trivial embarrassment serve for soldiers?

Tech’s gaze dropped to your chest again, but you saw nothing lewd in his attention. In place of the lechery you’d expect, his expression only held curiosity - as if your skin could tell him what you weren’t. Here was Tech, a battle seasoned soldier, sharing a moment of innocence with you free of the judgmental social expectations you were trained to abide by. The realization took away the anxiety you felt.

Chuckling, you managed to speak through your amusement, “They’re not supposed to be transparent, you know.” Your humor softened into a warm smile as you observed Tech’s puzzled expression. “It’s generally good practice to wear something a bit more... substantial when you’re swimming.” You waved a hand over your transparent clothing. Winking at him you added, “Or at least when you're in mixed company.”

Tech absorbed this information, his head tilting slightly as if filing away a new data point. “Ah, social norms?” he queried, more intrigued by the learning opportunity than embarrassed by his faux pas.

“Yes, exactly,” you agreed, your smile lingering. “But honestly, don’t worry about it. It’s just us here, and it’s actually quite refreshing to just relax about it.” You appreciated his unguarded state, a rare departure from his usual precision.

Nodding in understanding, Tech’s slight smile suggested he was becoming more comfortable with the situation. Adjusting his goggles he cleared his voice. “I will take note,” he responded, his voice carrying a hint of amusement now joining yours. A hue of pink came to his complexion - whether it was due to the warm waters or the new information you weren’t sure.

You watched him for a moment, the scientist in him always observing, always analyzing. It was endearing and made him all the more fascinating.

“Speaking of relaxing,” you said cautiously, curious about his thoughts beyond his duties. “Have you ever thought about what you’d like to do when the war is over?”

Tech paused, his gaze drifting off across the steamy water. “I haven’t given it much thought,” he admitted slowly. “There always seems to be another mission, another objective. But, I suppose...” his voice trailed off as he considered the question more seriously.

“An adventurer, maybe?” you suggested playfully, watching his reaction.

Tech looked at you, surprise registering on his face before it softened into contemplative curiosity. “An adventurer,” he repeated, rolling the idea around in his mind. His smile reappeared. “Exploring new planets, studying uncharted ecosystems without a firefight waiting around the corner—that does sound appealing.”

Your conversation drifted into a comfortable silence you both relaxed into. Eventually Tech announced it was time and you got to work heading back. You gave yourself plenty of credit for keeping your eyes above Tech’s waist as you gathered yourselves. Enough credit to indulge yourself in fully devouring the sight of him in his blacks as he led the way back to the grappling line.

Tech tugged his damp blacks into more comfortable angles before crouching in front of you, offering to carry you as he had on the way down. The first time you’d protested, this time you gladly climbed on board.

Securing your arms around his neck you chuckled, “And this really isn’t heavy for you?”

Tech scoffed, bouncing you into position as he stood. “You should not be surprised. After Wrecker, I am the strongest of my brothers.” Your brows raised at his use of ‘brothers’ as well as the fact of his strength. “Any concern is unwarranted, I am more than capable of carrying you.”

Your reply came in securing your still damp hold on him and that was enough for Tech to launch you both towards your veranda above.

Showcasing his tactical skills, Tech expertly got you up and over the railing without so much breaking a sweat.

"You were right," you exhaled, releasing a breath you hadn't realized you were holding as Tech helped you down from his back. Laughing lightly, you admitted, "You were right to carry me." Referring to your initial push to rappel on your own.

Tech straightened to roll out his shoulders. "I would get used to it if I were you," he remarked, a playful edge to his voice.

Dropping the bag from your shoulder, you squinted at Tech. “Get used to what?”

With a confident tilt of his head, Tech smiled. "The fact that I am typically correct." His tone, imbued with humor and self-assurance, sent another flutter through your stomach.

A familiar voice came from the open doors of your quarters. “I am glad to see you are taking your duties seriously.” Your sister’s voice spun you around. Her eyes were focused on the forest beyond, leaving it to guess whether she was addressing your or Tech.

Stepping out from among the drapes, she wore a floor-length light purple dress, cinched at the waist with a golden chain and her hair pulled back by an opal comb. The sight tightened something in your chest. Given that you were summoned to be her stand-in, her presence at home was unexpected. “I didn’t think you’d be here,” you admitted.

She glanced over Tech as she stepped towards you, with her attention lingering before she finally looked at you. “The hot springs?” She asked with a raised brow.

“We had the time,” you replied simply.

Humming thoughtfully, your sister pretended to smooth her dress, keeping her focus on you as she dismissed Tech. “You may leave us, trooper.” Her newfound, cool demeanor you’d first witnessed on Kamino was jarring to say the least.

Tech didn’t immediately leave, but looked at you first. His eyes darted between yours with something like concern and a silent question in his attention. Acutely aware of your sister’s scrutiny, you offered Tech a smile of assurance. He returned the gesture with a nod and promptly excused himself.

He was most likely still in earshot when your sister asked in a cool tone edged with criticism, “What are you doing, sister?”

“Waiting on Mother’s instructions.” You hadn’t expected to sound as snippy as you did.

By the way her eyebrows settled, neither did your sister. Maintaining eye contact, she waved a hand at the doorway behind her. “I meant with the clones.” She shook her head, frustration furrowing her brow. “This stunt of yours is going too far.”

“This stunt of mine?” You recoiled slightly, genuinely confused. “What do you think I’m doing?”

Your sister began pacing the veranda, rubbing her forehead and shaking her head in frustration.. “I thought you were getting some-” Her hand whipped around flippantly, “-Latent rebellious phase out of your system,” she scoffed, looking skyward before fixing her gaze back on you. “But now I’m beginning to think you…” Her voice trailed off as she stopped, pinning you with a stern look.

She approached with hands outstretched to capture your face. Her warm palms gently pressed on your face, a cherishing touch. “Negating your duties to this family is one thing. Fraternizing with lab experiments is another.”

Lab experiments.

The connection wasn’t instantaneous, after all, it was unthinkable that your sister, who had always been the epitome of compassion, could utter such a callous phrase. When her meaning sank in, you took a step, perhaps the first one ever, away from your sister. The morning sun caught on golden threads sewn through your sister's dress, giving her an off putting halo that chilled you.

Throughout your life, where your mother’s efforts were indifferent, your sister exemplified compassion for others. To hear her now, casually dehumanizing an entire race, was like seeing a stranger in her guise. Hearing your mother through your sister, wearing such a familiar face, gave you pause.

Something fractured inside you, and it sharpened your voice to a jagged edge. “How could you say something like that?”

Suddenly, her face softened into the warm grin you adored. With a sound of concession her hands waved around her head in submission before falling to her sides. “I’m just saying you were born for more than this.” Pulling you close again, she planted a kiss on your forehead, like you were a wayward child.

A vein of anger pulsed through you as you shoved her off. “And what exactly was I born for?” You challenged, barely restraining the bite behind your tone.

Your aggression didn’t dim her smile; she brushed off your rising ire with one calm word, “More.”

“Now,” she announced, clapping her hands together as if to dispel the tension. “I’m here to ensure everything is in order for the Gala.” Without checking to see if you followed, she began walking back inside, detailing the timeline for the next day. She never looked back, so accustomed was she to your lifelong habit of trailing behind her.

Anchored in place, you watched her disappear into your quarters. ‘Lab experiments’ kept turning over in your thoughts.

Beyond the sisterly love that always bound you, it was her opinions, thoughts, and motivations that you so sought to protect. She aimed to improve people’s lives and be the voice of your planet’s needs. Without her selfless, kind drive—or even the calculating leadership of your mother—you knew you could still support your people and protect your sister by becoming her shield.

But this new facet of her, the glimpses of a harsher woman unknown to you, troubled you. Supporting your sister and raising her voice above your mother’s was one thing. Supporting a voice that echoed your mother’s was another entirely.

Compared to participating in whatever pageantry your mother and sister had planned, scaling the ivy-covered wall beside you looked was the more appealing option.

Your sister called your name, finally prompting you forward. You could dwell on your family after the event.

The Gala was to be held in a hall open to the public, whereas the rehearsal took place in the privacy of a separate, more secure hall. Typically the venues were one in the same but with your standing in, necessary precautions were taken.

While you managed the rehearsal, Howzer briefed Clone Force 99 on the layout and security protocols of the structure.

Having finished surveying the building’s perimeter, Howzer led the squad up a switchback staircase carved into the mountain. “This is the last access point to the building and, coincidentally,” he noted as they reached the top stair, “a backdoor for tomorrow.”

The stairs led to a rocky outcrop that overlooked the hall where the event would be held. The hall was dimly lit, with staff attending to last-minute preparations.

“It’s an impressive structure,” Hunter remarked, walking to the edge of the outcrop. He knelt down, scanning the windows and balconies below through his binoculars.

Based on Tech’s research, neither the Governor nor the Senator had heat on them. The entire estate was designed to be impenetrable, and as far as Hunter was concerned, everything was in order and controlled. Hunter stood to face Howzer, rolling a shoulder towards the estate behind him. “This seems pretty straight forward, why the extra security?”

Howzer thought, nodding through a long inhale, “The Governor doesn’t do anything without necessity.” He paused, but could only shrug, “But I can’t say. She hasn’t indicated any specific threat.”

Having been on a similar line of thought as Hunter, Echo was the next to question with a question. “Why are clone troopers stationed here anyways?” Clone troopers went where there was unrest and instability; conditions that did not describe your planet. Yours had been stable, if not outright prosperous, in the war so far.

“This planet exports more raw energy than most planets in the Mid Rim combined.” Howzer explained. “From what I’ve been told, when the war started and sides were being chosen, the Republic wouldn’t risk losing this planet’s energy supply so they’ve done everything possible to placate the politicians here.”

He continued, “Plus, having Clone troopers escort the major energy shipments? It’s a smart move for keeping away Separatists and pirates.”

For most of the afternoon, Crosshair had kept his attitude subdued. Whether it was due to a lack of commentary or abundance of restraint was anyone’s guess. Eventually, his patience waned, and he couldn’t help but interject, his voice dripping with disdain. “And where does being a glorified bodyguard come into play?” There was no curiosity in his question, only pure condescension.

Howzer shifted his weight, a muscle feathering over his jawline. Looking Crosshair over he mused, “Seeing as how we’re in the same boat for the next two days,” Scoffing, Howzer turned his attention back to venue below and continued, “Why don’t you let me know when you figure it out?”

That earned a laugh from Wrecker. Almost knocking Crosshair off balance, Wrecker knocked him with an elbow and chuckled, “He gotcha there, Cross.”

A snarl rippled over Crosshair’s lips, twisting into a mean smile. “So you enjoy playing lapdog for a few prissy politicians?”

“Prissy is one way to put it.” Tech added under his breath as he lifted his scanner in the air.

A smile softened Howzer’s features as he noticed a familiar figure stepping out onto a balcony. "Like I said - it has its perks," he said, his gaze fixed on the scene below. The two of you were discussing something with your sister holding a datapad between you while 9-E trailed you.

Crosshair followed Howzer's gaze, his annoyance cooling slightly as he spotted you on the balcony. The sniper clicked his tongue and stepped back from the ledge.

Tech, still fiddling with his scanner, noticed the change in Crosshair and found you. He watched you for a beat, glancing between Howzer and you, before tucking his device away. “It looks like they are nearing the end of their preparations. This would be a good opportunity to head back.” It was all the prompting his squad needed to start moving towards the stairs.

Howzer didn’t immediately move, his eyes dropping away before locking back on you. “Tell me something,” He said, voice dropping low. “How’d she take it?”

The question sent a pulse of silence through the men as they exchanged looks. Howzer faced the group, tapping the scar that marred his left cheek. “I saw her face.”

“Running to her defense?” Crosshair's voice was sharp, tinged with scorn.

Echo passed Crosshair a disapproving shake of his head. Sounding impressed, Echo was the one to answer, “She handled herself like a soldier.”

That was the answer Howzer expected, but still his shoulders fell. Howzer's expression softened slightly, though a hint of sadness lingered. "Prissy doesn't even begin to cover her on a good day," he muttered, more to himself than to the others.

In the limited time the Captain was stationed on your planet, he’d caught on quickly enough to your family dynamics.

Initially, the Senator had seemed the most approachable. She was amiable, respectful, and appreciative of the clones' efforts, contrasting sharply with the Governor’s dismissive air. Whereas, you were distant, something Howzer took as alignment with the Governor’s sentiments. Rumors even made their way through the barracks that it was the Governor that kept you away, that she deemed clones unworthy of her daughter’s company. Howzer shut the insubordination down, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought the same thing.

It wasn’t until the first conference Howzer attended with your family that his perspective changed. The conference kept the Governor distracted and gave you the first real chance to approach him. Your humor surprised him, your unabashed admiration for the clones even moreso. After an evening with you, he found himself in your company at every opportunity. While your leash was tight, more so than you probably even realized, you definitely knew your way around your restrictions.

Once Howzer heard how the Governor spoke of you and your ‘lack of ambition’ Howzer understood he only saw a small part of the whole. After a time she grabbed your arm so hard you winced, he worried about what she did when there weren’t witnesses. In the end, Howzer decided it wasn’t his place to comment. Even as a Captain in the Grand Army of the Republic, he was only a clone trooper.

So, he kept things professional, maintaining a safe boundary with you. Yet, he indulged your questions about training and duties, even encouraged you to get training if that’s what you felt your path was. When you didn’t return from Kamino, that safe boundary quickly felt like a noose on your neck.

Your safe return felt like a second chance. Howzer wouldn’t be a silent bystander again.

“You know,” Howzer addressed the group but looked directly at Crosshair. “We were made to take hits. Clones are trained all our lives to take this well.” He walked past the men, bumping into Crosshair on his way, adding, “Makes you wonder, doesn't it? What taught her to handle it so well?”

This was the first time a reg left Crosshair silent and the first time he resented his ability to see so far off. He didn’t want to look at you.

That evening, you returned well after dark. Exhausted, your feet ached, your back was sore, and your mind thoroughly numbed from your sister’s constant instructions. You didn’t even bother with the lights as you made your way through your quarters.

Slumping down on to the edge of the bed, you began pulling at the tight shoes your sister chose for you. As you bent, a twitch ran through you that flared pain in your shoulder. It reminded you of all the reasons your shoulder was sore and why you were staring at a pair of ugly, golden slippers.

A burst of rage sent the slipper soaring into the wall ahead of you. Unsatisfied, you ripped the other off and chucked it toward the open veranda doors, where it landed just short of the outside.

Annoyed with yourself, you retrieved the shoe, and as you neared the door, you caught the drift of voices outside. With soft steps, you continued onto the veranda for a better listen.

Hunter’s stern voice made it through the wall first. “Crosshair, calm down.”

“No,” Crosshair snapped, his voice as furious as when you had headbutted him. “He knew who she was and didn’t say anything. He got us into this situation.”

Great, you inwardly groaned. They’re talking about me. Discomfort bloomed in your chest, sending prickling anxiety up your spine. They were fighting because of you.

Echo interjected, his tone just as firm. “The Prime Minister got us into this, not her. And you’re only making it worse with your attitude. Keep it to yourself. We have a mission to do and she certainly doesn’t need it,” he snapped, footsteps receding as he presumably walked back indoors.

As you strained to hear who was left, Tech’s reasoned voice floated over. “I hardly see how my knowledge of her identity caused any problems.”

“Oh, don’t act so innocent.” Crosshair fumed. “You knew, and because of your silence, I—We could’ve handled things differently.

Tech sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation in his voice. “I merely respected her decision to train without interference.”

“And look where that got her,” Crosshair retorted sharply, his voice dripping with bitter sarcasm.

At that you sucked in a small breath.

Tech started to push back when Hunter finally stepped in, “We’re done here. Tech, Wrecker, inside. Crosshair, stay out here and cool off.”

From the sounds of it, the others retreated inside and the solitary grumbling confirmed it for you. As softly as possible, you walked to the railing. You swallowed what you could of your anxiety and leaned over the balcony to peer around the ivy wall.

Sure enough, there Crosshair was, head in hands, leaning on the handrail. Catching him in this small moment of silence felt like seeing something you shouldn’t have. The moonlight illuminated him, bouncing off his hair enough to give him a glow. He was beautiful.

“What could you possibly want?” You jumped when Crosshair’s sharp tone cut through the silence. He dropped his hands and met you with an irritated look.

The first thing that came to mind spilled out, your nerves getting the better of you. “I want a lot of things.”

Crosshair shifted his weight onto one elbow, twisting in place to see you better. “What?” The tone in that one word sounded like a larger, more insulting question.

Swaying from the balls of your feet to your tiptoes and back, you considered tossing yourself from the balcony rather than saying another word. Staring out over the forest beyond you were slow to think of anything. Hesitantly, you started, “I want… this Gala to be over.” You turned a smile on Crosshair, hoping the humor would crack his scowl.

It didn’t.

“And I want to apologize.”

That caught his attention. His sour expression pinched with confusion. He straightened, resting his hand on the railing. “For what?” he asked skeptically.

Taking a sidestep in his direction, you took another jab as lightening the mood, crooning, “Don’t get your hopes up, it’s not for headbutting you.” His face didn’t change and the grip he had on the railing went white, spiking that prickling anxiety again. Crosshair said nothing, pushing away from the railing to leave.

“Crosshair, wait!” You scooted to where the veranda met the dividing wall.

“Save it.” He growled without looking back.

His walking away, dismissing you, not giving you the time of day - all of it broiled a rage deep seated within you. A rage that had been festering inside you since childhood. The very same flood of rage that sent your shoes flying earlier. One of which you still held in hand.

Chucking the slipper as hard as you could, it found its mark on the back of Crosshair’s head. At an abrupt halt, he stood frozen, then slowly faced you. Where the moonlight once brought out a beauty in the man, now darkened an already angry glower.

“What was that for?” His voice was dangerously low.

Refusing intimidation, you curled your fingers into the air in front of you. Through gritted frustration, you said, “Because I’m tired of you being an ass! You’re angry with me so just-” Your hands fumbled in front of you, making angry shapes as you worked out the last words, “Just say it!”

Crosshair said nothing, going silent as he took two long strides, gripped the railing with one hand, and vaulted himself around the wall with fluidity. You managed to get out of his way as he danding on your side without a sound. He didn’t move any closer, but even feet away he stood over you.

Not backing down, you were the one to close the distance, doubling down by saying, “Say it to my face.” He dodged the finger you thrust in his face.

The two of you stood like that, on the cusp of something angry, for almost a moment too long. As if neither of you had fully thought this through. Thought through what to say or how to say it. Especially seeing as your typical mode of conflict wasn’t on the table.

His jaw clenched a few times before he spoke and, much calmer than you expected, Crosshair said, “You should have told us who you were.”

Your frustration bled into desperation. “Crosshair, please, this isn’t a game to me. If I wanted to train, I had to-” On instinct you reached for his arm but he stepped out of reach before you made contact.

You both froze with your hand still hanging between you. Simultaneously, the two of you broke eye contact to look at your hand and when he didn’t swat your hand, you reached for him again. And again, he evaded you.

“Crosshair.” You said slowly. “What is going on?” His avoidance seemed like anger, but his sidestepping made you think again. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I...” Crosshair’s voice trailed off as he fell back a step, something flickering in his eyes. He tried to look elsewhere, but you stepped into his line of sight. A little jolt ran up his neck, almost taken aback by your persistence. What little control he had over himself seemed to be slipping.

Careful of the boundary you toed, you held his gaze while extending a hand to him again. His eyes didn’t falter, but the breath he held told you he knew what you were doing. With the caution of handling a wild animal, you gently touched his forearm. The muscles in his jaw went tight at your touch.

In a voice reserved for your sister, gentle and patient, you pushed softly, “It’s more than not telling you, isn’t it?”

The moonlight softened Crosshair’s brown eyes to a pale hazel and revealed a flicker of whatever fight he had with himself. “If I had known who you were-”

“You wouldn’t have trained me?” You cut him off, too eager to know his inner workings.

His mouth opened just enough for him to say, “That’s not it.” For only a second, had you blinked you’d have missed it, his eyes scanned your face.

You didn’t need to ask to know it was marks on your face he sought.

“No.” A dawning realization tilted your head. You weren’t sure if you were flattered or offended. “You wouldn’t have used me like a punching bag.”

Like a child caught in trouble, those pale hazel eyes widened. This was, perhaps, a shared realization.

“Are you avoiding me because you’re ashamed?” Crosshair didn’t respond, his silence a confirmation as he looked away, unable to meet your gaze.

“I… I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not more than I already have.”

His confession pushed your hand from his forearm to his hand, balled into a tight fist.

“Look at me,” You urged gently, wedging your fingers into his. “Crosshair.” For a long moment, he remained still, then slowly, he found your eyes again.

You shook your head with a weak smile, the weight of his guilt adding to your own. Squeezing his hand you made your own confession. “I am sorry-”

“Don’t-”

“No.” You said firmly, squeezing again. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you all into this. I just…” A crack in your voice made you pause. Coughing through it, you continued, “I just wanted to be more than I am.”

Red hot shame burned tears into the corners of your eyes. The hold you had on his fingers, sat loose in yours, suddenly felt like an imposition. For weeks he was forced to be in your company. Now you forced him away from his duties to be another unwilling participant.

You slipped your hand from his at the thought of doing anymore damage. Your retreat made it no farther as an armored arm slung around you.

Crosshair pulled you close, trapping you under his chin. The sound of crickets was dampened by his breathing and drowned out entirely when Crosshair spoke.

“Don’t apologize to me or anyone else for that matter.”

The moment was fleeting. Before you could fully register or react to his words, Crosshair let you go, stepping back to give you space, his expression perfect neutrality. The feel of his arm lingered around you and kept you speechless as he lightly swiped a thumb over your eye.

When all you managed were a few blinks, his lips pulled slightly to one side. “That’s not a good look for you.”

Warmth spread through your chest when he made a swipe over your other eye. You chuffed at the soft gesture, but gently pushed his hand away. While your touch still lingered, you playfully tugged his hand to the side, as if inviting him to dance.

Angling a smile up at him, you asked, “And… who can’t keep their hands off of who?”

Crosshair’s smile vanished as he rolled his eyes and groaned, pulling his hand back. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

You palmed away any remaining tears, chuckling as you stepped back. “Oh, get over yourself.”

There was a beat of silence before you both laughed. It was the first time you heard him laugh softly. The lingering warmth from your brief, shared laughter made the cool night air more bearable.

“As fun as this is,” Crosshair drawled, taking another step away. He flashed you one last disarming smile before turning on a heel to leave. “I think someone needs her beauty sleep.”

Your stomach fluttered as you watched him walk away. Seeing him so relaxed and even playful made his tease feel unexpectedly charming.

With a light laugh and a wave, you called out, “Go away, Crosshair.”

Alone on the veranda, you wrapped your arms around yourself, absorbing the night’s calm. The day had been the longest you’d had in a long time. And at the end of it all - you somehow felt good. Making amends with Crosshair made you feel hopeful that whatever tomorrow brought, you were ready for it.

Whether the men of Clone Force 99 knew it or not, they were changing your life forever.

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chatonarya · 3 months

Text

Let’s talk about Degenbrecher’s module.

It’s called ‘Footnotes of The Past.’ The title itself is worth mentioning due to her battle line, “Still soaking yourself in the past?” The past is also referenced in her EP, “Blade Catcher”: “There’s a shadow I can’t keep at bay in my past but I don’t let it shake me; cut the cord with the edge of my sword but I’ll never find escape. That’s the key to the fortress you see, when it all knocks me down I’m still upright.”

Degenbrecher doesn’t hold onto the past: although this “shadow” of hers (her hard childhood and status as an outcast) has made her who she is today, she doesn’t let it drag her down, but rather, her refusal to shy away from it is the source of her strength. So these stories that she’s sharing can indeed be said to be footnotes: anecdotes of a chequered past which remain fond memories of an ongoing tale.

The text itself is about her most-frequently worn medals, for which she has a case exclusively for storing them, and her sharing their significance with Rhodes HR. For easier reference, I’ve included a high resolution image of her medals alongside, so that we might get a closer look at them compared to her sprite.

Knight-Champion of Kazimierz Medal

Black medal of crossed swordbreakers, lying unassumingly in center of case. Design makes it immediately clear that Kazimierz tailored this champion's medal to her. She reigned for three straight years and so was given three, but only the first was personally awarded to her by the Grand Knight after usurping the defender. Which is why she didn't throw it away, and why it's the one artifact of Kazimierz she still carries with her. 'Commemorative enough, barely.'

The one artifact of Kazimierz Degenbrecher yet retains: her first medal of her first championship, specifically made for her. This is the only one that matters to her. Per her own words, her first victory was to prove herself, and perhaps only her first still holds any importance or significance to her, not in the least because of the Grand Knight giving her the medal. Naturally, Degenbrecher’s first victory would be the most significant, as she basically came from nowhere as the challenger and defeated the previous champion. This victory probably feels the most like a genuine achievement for her, before Kazimierz became “boring,” in her own words, and the other knights gave up on even attempting to defeat her.

Secondly, it would appear, and I hypothesize, that it wasn’t merely the fact that the Grand Knight—Ioleta Russell—personally gave Degenbrecher this medal, but rather, something occurred during this event that left a mark on Degenbrecher. Degenbrecher does not care for status, but she respects strength and she is fascinated by the aspirations of the strong. I believe it’s possible that she felt some recognition in being presented with this medal by Ioleta (who would appear to be very strong to Degenbrecher), but in addition, that perhaps they shared some enlightening conversation that left a mark on her and perhaps began to steer her thoughts elsewhere in her quest to find a suitable aspiration and see how the lives of people who have them end, even before Degenbrecher herself grew disenchanted and disappointed with Kazimierz.

'Thanks'

Inverted triangle inscribed with Kjerag's holy Mount Karlan. Not issued by any official organization, rather forged for her by clan head Ratatos at the request of a household under Browntail rule. Degenbrecher had rescued said household's members from an avalanche. 'This first one was almost ten years ago now. I know they meant it nicely, and I don't mind how it looks. But the news spread, and now I get one of these medals from the Tri-Clans any time I do something similar. The cupboard at home is full of them.'

A simple medal of gratitude, almost ten years old, thereby dating it to not long after Degenbrecher arrived in Kjerag. It’s likely either her first or second medal after the Silverashes’, and the fact that it was the very first one is probably why she wears it, particularly given that it sparked a trend of the three clans gifting her medals on the regular—something which is quite adorable, I must say. Degenbrecher performs an act of heroism, and she receives a medal. Does she receive them even for minor things, I wonder? Do the clans squabble over who gets to give her medals, who’s given her more? She apparently has a whole collection now!

But this one—this one retains sentimental value for her. I speculate that perhaps it’s because this was the first token of genuine gratitude from complete strangers that she received, and perhaps the fact that the people rescued desperately wanted to do something to thank her touched her in some way.

‘The Silverashes’ Sword and Shield.’

Second medal from the left, sword and shield motif. All of Karlan Trade knows that those wearing this medal are free to act unimpeded wherever Karlan Trade is concerned. Initially a pass designed expressly for her by Enciodes, but as soon became apparent, nobody simply overlooks the presence of Degenbrecher. Its worth these days is instead in gently reminding others that she is affiliated with Karlan Trade. 'One day, I forgot to wear this one. Enciodes went that entire day quieter than usual, then in the end asked if I had any complaints with the company.'

It’s incredibly adorable how Enciodes apparently personally and “expressly” designed this medal for Degenbrecher as a token of their friendship to allow her to come and go freely through Karlan Trade, and basically anywhere Silverash-affiliated: it’s basically a friendship bracelet—I mean, badge, despite its name. Also, look at just how cute it is—it has a little pawprint in the center! Suddenly, the reason he named his secret squadron Tschäggättä is clear—he’s still twelve years inside.

Even more hilarious, the one day she forgot to wear it, he immediately had an internal meltdown and overreaction assuming that surely it was because she didn’t like him anymore, and he spent the whole day effectively moping and panicking about it until he mustered up the courage to ask her if she had any problems with him. “Oh no, she's not wearing my friendship medal, she must hate me now!” Never mind that Degenbrecher of all people would never hesitate to tell him if she had any problems with him. I wonder how that conversation went down at the end of the day.

But actually, let’s think about it a little further. Degenbrecher has apparently faithfully worn this medal day in and day out for years and years, yet one day, she goes without it. Would it not be natural for Enciodes’s thoughts to stray towards the idea that she is holding some sort grudge towards him or is upset about something? And while it’s almost certainly his own dramatic nature flaring up here, I can’t help but feel this is also a marker of how much he values Degenbrecher’s friendship that he so worries over her potential offense in regards to something so small.

Finally, note the mention that now, instead of the medal giving her pass through Karlan Trade, it serves to remind others of her affiliation: she’s become so integrated in Kjerag that perhaps people forget that she actually has allegiance to the company (which we can see in RS). (It also explains more about Enciodes’s internal unease, though it’s not really clear when specifically that anecdote happened.)

'Kjeragandr's Soldier'

Third medal, honorary decoration issued by the Vine-Bear Court, was worn by Enya herself when she formally became the Saintess. 'This was the biggest protest the Saintess could make back then. I don't think much in particular about Kjeragandr—at most, I think I'd like to take Her on.'

We see Degenbrecher here echoing her comments from RS: if given a chance, she would like to fight Kjeragandr, but other than that, she doesn’t have any strong feelings about her. Nevertheless, Degenbrecher accepted this medal, and wears it for what I speculate is either a feeling of empathy or solidarity: Sharp calls Degenbrecher a “symbol of rebellion” in Break The Ice, and we know how much she hates being controlled. Perhaps she saw Enya’s rebellion against the stifling Court by giving away her medal to a non-Kjerag, and accepted it because she could understand or because she felt it would be ungracious not to. Wearing it now, perhaps she feels at this time that she is a soldier of Kjeragandr, or at least, of Kjerag, which after the events of RS doesn’t seem that far-fetched either, and now the medal has at last achieved its meaning in the most literal way.

Finally, I’d like to note that this medal shares its emblem with the one on Enciodes’s belt buckle in his newest skin Never-Melting Ice, where I’m guessing he’s taken on the role of commander of the Walnut battleship. As I speculated before, that he has it is a symbol of recognition from a party which has historically opposed him—the Vine-Bear Court—though it’s unknown at the moment specifically why he has it.

‘Ten Years.’

To mark ten years of acquaintance, Enciodes rustled up a little gift for her, effectively commemorating her Karlan Trade decennial at the same time. It may not have been founded when they first met, but the blueprints were already laid out in his heart. 'I didn't even recall what it was commemorating when he gave me this. A token of thanks, I suppose, but I'm sure he just wanted to let me know that he still remembered the big words he said back when it all began.'

Her fourth most valued medal, and perhaps unsurprisingly, it’s from Enciodes again. A gesture of commemorating their friendship, her ten years with Karlan Trade, and effectively Karlan Trade’s ten years as well as the company got off the ground with her aid. It’s only too bad that I can’t quite make out the design of it despite best efforts.

It’s interesting and in fact quite sweet that Degenbrecher can easily infer the meaning behind Enciodes’s gesture, though he does not say so. She understands him very well, to the point where her first thought was not regarding the Karlan Trade decennial, but rather, even beyond her guessing it was a gesture of gratitude like her numerous other medals, she immediately grasps with certainty that he meant something more: he’s reminding her that he still remembers how everything began, and he feels it necessary and appropriate to remind her of this, and likely, he also knows that she will understand its meaning. Effectively, through this gift, Enciodes is telling her, “It’s been ten years, but I still hold the same convictions, aspirations, and motivations I still held when we first met. I want you to know that I haven’t forgotten any of those things despite the time. I may have changed since then, but this part of me has not.”

In addition, Enciodes making this gesture of gratitude almost seems to echo Enya’s comments to Kjera at the end of RS about how taking things for granted means one loses respect for them, and also alludes to Enciodes’s comments about his debt to Degenbrecher growing and growing. He knows he has no way to repay her, but he’s trying to at least express his gratitude although she doesn’t care about debt, and to show he doesn’t take her continued presence for granted either. It’s yet another instance of Enciodes treating Degenbrecher as his friend rather than the “sword” she claims she is to him; he genuinely wishes to remind her that despite it all, at heart he’s still the person she met back then.

And Degenbrecher acknowledges and appreciates this sentiment and this gesture, and so she also has placed this medal upon her breast as among her most valued. One medal from him when Karlan Trade first began, and another for the decennial. Fitting, isn’t it? Much like the way her first one shows her affiliation with Karlan Trade, this one is proof of her continued allegiance—an allegiance which will continue further on in the future.

Finally, let’s round this out by looking at the other items in the artwork, as they were surely included because they’re of some importance to her. Although it’s unfortunately difficult to make out what else is in the case other than her Kazimierz badge (likely it’s more medals), we can see a few other things on the side just beneath the case. What are they?

Just beneath the case’s handle, we can see a dagger, likely the one she wears on her thigh. One of Gnosis’s, perhaps? It’s almost assured he gave her one, given their close relationship, and that would be reason alone for it to be considered special to her. Remember, Degenbrecher uses her swordbreakers because they are instruments of blunt damage and it’s easier for her to control her strength when she needs to avoid killing someone. Yet here is an item that would likely be small and fiddly for her, not to mention fragile and largely unneeded—why would Degenbrecher of all people need a self-defense dagger, even in the worst case scenario? Nevertheless, it’s there on her leg, and there amongst her most prized items, effectively all of which were gifts as well. Clearly, it must be of some sentimental value, and ergo I postulate it’s from Gnosis.

Next up, under the dagger is her Kjerag armband. We don’t know who gave her this, but we do know it’s an emblem of allegiance that many Kjerag-affiliated characters and NPCs wear. The fact that she chooses to wear it is yet another marker of her belonging to Kjerag.

Beneath her armband is a coiled chain; it’s difficult to tell what it is, precisely, if it’s a necklace or if it’s the chain that functions as the strap of her broadsword. I’m inclined to think that’s what it is, as Degenbrecher doesn’t strike me as someone who cares very much for jewelry, and her sword would naturally be packed for travel.

And of course, front and center, her trademark swordbreakers. Interestingly, her promotion file states that she had no weapon but the hilt of her greatsword when she left Kazimierz, broken by a Darksteel arrow, and upon arrival to Kjerag her swordbreakers were “crafted by the Karlan Trade artisans.” Given that Karlan Trade at the time didn’t really comprise of much or many people, and given that their initial product was bottled spring water, I can’t help but wonder who those artisans were—or if it was, in fact, Gnosis once again. After all, if he knows how to make daggers, surely he would know how to make swords (or swordbreakers) as well?

And there we have it—a few more interesting little tidbits about Kjerag’s big sister that add some more to her character. :)

#arknights #degenbrecher #arknights essays #my essays

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enweasley · 6 months

Text

Restricted Section ; Finn Weasley x Sallow!Reader

AN: HII! So I haven't seen this being done much (or even at all but I barely looked) where people would write fanfics of their own characters in Hogwarts Legacy, so I decided to do so! Quick introduction to the character:

This is Finn Weasley; He's in Gryffindor and has a very loyal but mischievous personality. He's also pansexual! He LOVES herbology but he loves solving mysteries and exploring secrets even more - even if it's super dangerous. However, he will go to any extent to keep others out of danger (ironically). Finn can be really harsh to people if someone hurts him or the people he cares about. He's not perfect, though, he has some flaws. He does have a short temper and can say pretty horrible things without meaning to. He can also be quite reckless and finds it hard to accept other people's love and care, leading him to forget to keep himself from getting hurt.

That's all for now, but I'll probably add more to his story as time goes by!

(Please excuse any grammar mistakes, I'm trilingual and grammar from 3 languages can mix me up a lot C:)

Summary: The new student needs your help sneaking into the restricted section for something 'very important'. However, he doesn't expect you to cover for him when you get caught.

Warnings: Swearing, small panic attack, gets a little heated at the end. Kinda cheesy but we love that :)

Reader's gender is never specified!

"Excuse me! Y/n Sallow, right?" Interrupted from your game of wizard's chess alone, you turn around to be met with a pretty tall red-head. You couldn't help but think about how gorgeous he is, but you swallow your excitement.

"Yeah, that's me. You're the new kid aren't you?" You disenchant your chess game and give him your full attention. "I watched your duel with Sebastian in the Clock Tower, you're really good!"

Finn seems to flush at your compliment. During his short time starting in 5th year here in Hogwarts he's gotten plenty compliments on how he's been able to learn and execute spells so quickly, but for some reason your compliment had a special affect on him.

He chuckles lightly. "Thank you, I'm just trying to catch up quickly." He couldn't seem to keep his eyes from wandering over your features. "It's Finn, by the way. Finn Weasley."

"Oh, another Weasley! Well it's lovely to meet you! Did you need anything?" You ask politely.

Finn almost forgot why he was talking to you in the first place, but managed to remember before already humiliating himself in front of you. "Right, yes. This may sound quite forward, but Sebastian told me you're really good at sneaking around. Is there a chance you can help me sneak into the restricted section of the library tonight? I can't say why, but it's very important."

You were a bit surprised at his request, but kind of prideful that you were the first person he was led to for it. You smiled widely. "Of course! I'm surprised my brother didn't take you himself. Meet me at the grand staircase at 9. Don't be late!"

"Wait- Don't you wanna know more about why I need to sneak in?" He asked perplexed.

"Nope. I'll take any opportunity for sneaking around. Either way, you don't seem the type to burn down the castle or anything. Plus, you said you can't say why you need to sneak in."

He mentally facepalmed himself. How could he forget he just said that? Maybe he just wanted to talk to you longer. "I'll see you at 9!" You smile at him and walk away.

You take a long breath after turning away from him. Holy shit he's cute.

You're both crouched at the railing of the stairs looking down onto the central hall at exactly 9pm, analysing the prefects walking around and guarding the doors of the library.

"Okay," you whisper. "First of all, we need to go invisible. Have you learnt the disillusionment spell?"

Finn looks at you like a lost puppy, his head slightly titled. You almost had to tell him how cute he looked, but held back.

You pull your wand out and whisp it over your head and body. The wand leaves a blue trail of light before all there was left was your aura.

You continue whispering to the lost boy in front of you. "This is the disillusionment spell. It doesn't turn you completely invisible but it's better than being completely exposed."

You point to his hand holding his wand. "May I?" He nods hesitantly.

You slowly hold his fist clenching onto his wand and do the same movement you did on yourself over him. Finn could barely focus, the feeling of your soft hand on his summoning an army of butterflies in his stomach. You couldn't help but feel the same tingle in your stomach too.

Clearing your throat, you speak. "That's the movement for the spell. Just think of it and do the movement."

He did as you said, and suddenly you were both just two ghosts staring at each other's remains.

Finn chuckles enthusiastically. "This is awesome!" He whisper yells.

You laugh at his excitement, wishing you could see his freckled face through the spell.

"Okay, let's go. Stick close to me." You begin to sneak down the stairs, through the hall, and quickly side past the prefect turned away from the library door. You can feel Finn following closely behind.

After you both get into a safer corner of the library away from Madam Agnes's sights, you remove the spell off you.

"Here's the plan," you start. "You go get the key from Madam Agnes's desk draw over there, I'll distract her."

Finn nods. As you start to turn away, Finn grabs your arm gently and looks at you with his adorable puppy eyes.

"What if you get caught?" He sounds worried. You can't tell why he'd be worried about you, though.

You give him a cheeky smile. "Me? Get caught? You should worry about yourself, Weasley." He chuckles, shooing away the blush creeping into his cheeks after hearing you call him by his surname. "C'mon, let's go."

As you throw a book across the room, Finn conceals himself and scurries to grab the key. You quickly do the same and meet him at the entrance of the restricted section.

Exposing yourselves from the spell, you watch him unlock the gate before you walk in.

"YES!" Finn cheers, surprising you both with a tight hug. There's a pause before he realises what he's doing and slowly pulls away, taking his warmth away with him. "Sorry... Got excited."

You laugh sweetly at him. "I don't mind." He continues walking down the stairs of the forbidden room, but not before shooting you a relieved smirk.

"Lumos." You cast, making the eery room brighter and less intimidating.

As you squeeze between abandoned bookshelves and over piles of junk, you reach a collapsed set of armour. "Repai-" Finn begins to cast before a loud screech interrupts him.

Almost out of thin air, Peeves flies through the wall in front of you. He almost knocks you down, but Finn's quick reflexes catch you before you hit the ground. You find yourself wrapped in his arms, yours tightly around his neck.

"Shit, are you okay?" Finn asks you breathlessly, his worried eyes glaring into yours.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine-" But once again you were interrupted by the same squeaky, loud voice of the poltergeist.

"I'M TELLING, I'M TELLING," Peeves squeals mockingly before flying straight upwards towards the main floor of the library.

Your heart squeezes into itself. You've never been caught before, why now? Your uncle is going to kill you if he finds out you were sneaking around the castle, and in the restricted section of all places.

You didn't realise your breath was quickening until you felt arms lowering you onto the floor and rough but warm hands palming each side of your neck.

"Hey, hey. You're alright, sweetheart. Take a breath." You hear Finn's soft voice whisper in your ear. A little voice was in your head screaming How do you expect me to breathe when you're making my heart beat even faster??

You breathe deeply before letting out a small chuckle. "I'm okay. I'm fine. Just go get whatever you need to get. I need to deal with Peeves before he gets us both in trouble."

Finn looks at you as if asking you if you're sure. You just nod and sprint after Peeves, the last thing you hear is a distant "Repairo" before making it back to the library.

"PEEVES YOU STUPID POLTERGEIST." You try catching him, forgetting he's a literal ghost as your arms flail right through him.

"Y/n Sallow." You jump at the voice of Madam Agnes behind you. You slowly turn around while Peeves chuckles menacingly at your head hung low in shame. "And to think I'd get a break from the Sallow siblings, you come running along. Wait until your uncle hears about this."

"No. No no no-" You get interrupted by her. "That's enough. You're a bright student, you should know better than to go sneaking around the restricted section especially after curfew."

"But Madam Agnes-"

"And Peeves here tells me you were with someone else." Peeves twirls and rolls around mid-air, celebrating your punishment. "Please tell me you were forced to come here by someone's hand instead of it being your own choice."

There's a pause. You could never snitch on Finn like that. You only just met him but you know better than to put his record at risk on his first week of school here. This was your own choice anyway, you weren't forced. Finn helped you down there, so you're gonna help him.

"No. I came here all alone." You said in a low but stern voice.

Madam Agnes sighs at your lie, but she knew how stubborn you and your brother were, so she let it slide.

"Detention after classes tomorrow. You're going to sort the books to their respective places until they're all done. It doesn't matter if it takes you all night." Your shoulders slump. "Peeves, escort her to her common room, please."

With a sigh from you and an evil chuckle from the poltergeist, you begin your walk to your common room. At least Finn's in the clear now.

Little did you know, Finn saw the whole thing from behind one of the shelves. He couldn't help but let a grateful smile reach his lips.

The next day, Finn runs to the library to find you after his classes. It's already dark out by the time he finishes his extra tasks and from talking to Professor Fig. He doesn't know why he's in such a hurry, but he won't let his confidence escape him just yet.

Once he's in, he find the library to be completely empty, not even Madam Agnes in sight. He hears distant curses and shuffling coming from the second floor and he can only assume the source being your complaining.

As he follows the sounds of frustrated mumbles, he finally finds you at the end of the second floor in a dark corner holding a bunch of books to shelf up. He smiles at the sight of you awkwardly balancing everything in your one hand and walks over to you, taking a pile of books from you.

"Need help there?" He looks at you with a teasing smirk.

You look at him with a grumpy face. "Oh haha, Weasley. I can handle this on my own, thank you very much." You snatch back the books he took from you, instant regret flooding your features as you immediately struggle to balance them.

Finn immediately takes them back from you and effortlessly holds them over his head, extending his arm upwards far from your reach.

"Hey- Hand those back, Weasley." You try hopping to reach the books he so graciously stole from you.

He chuckles at your efforts while you claw up his chest and shoulders, trying to tug down his arm. After a harsh tug, Finn loses balance of the books he's holding and he tries catching them but ends up stumbling forwards.

The books fall to the side as Finn catches himself on the bookshelf, trapping you between it and himself.

You lock eyes with him, your hands clutched tightly onto the thin material of his shirt over his chest. You're both breathing heavily, chests almost touching with every breath.

You can feel Finn hesitate as his hands slowly reach to cup the back of your neck, his thumb over your cheek. No matter how much you willed yourself to, your simply could not take your eyes off him.

"Thank you." He whispers. Your eyebrows furrow.

"For what?"

"For covering for me." His stare snapping between your eyes and lips. "I heard you in the library after we got caught."

"You mean after I caught got?" You tease.

Finn smirks at your remark, his hold on your neck squeezing for a second. "Whatever you say, sweetheart." The nickname melts into your ears and into the rushed beats of your heart.

"Hey, Finn?" The use of his first name makes the blood rush to his cheeks, his breath hitches.

"Yeah?"

"You dropped my books."

"Shut up." Finn lets out in a desperate breath before pulling you into him, his lips roughly but passionately meeting yours.

His other hand shifts from the side of your head to tangle into your hair, tugging it lightly. You let out a little whimper, but that's all it took for Finn to deepen the kiss even more, his tongue slightly grazing yours. Breaths were escaping through your noses, desperate for air but never desperate enough to separate from each other.

Your fingers weave through his long, soft ginger locks. Your other hand clutches desperately onto the collar of his shirt.

You both finally pull away from each other, your hands gliding down to rest on his chest.

"Fuck." Finn leans his forehead on yours, leaning in for another quick peck. His hazel eyes are glazed over, looking into yours like they hold the world. He slowly brushes a strand of your hair behind your hair, memorising your face as you memorise his.

"I was hoping you'd do that." You chuckle breathlessly. Finn laughs with you, his eyes holding nothing but love as they stare into yours. "Oh yeah?" You nod, your nose lightly touching his.

"Now help me with these books, Weasley. You're still responsible for my detention." You playfully push him away and start picking up the books he previously dropped.

"And I'd do it again as long as it ends like this every time." He smiles at you cheekily.

"Do it again and I'm telling Sebastian you used a love potion on me."

And with that he got to work helping you sort the books out.

#harry potter #weasley #weasley x reader #finn weasley x reader #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy reader insert #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts legacy fic #ominis gaunt x reader #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy fan fiction #sebastian sallow imagine #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #ron weasley x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader

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ebonystarfall · 3 months

Note

Can I request a oneshot of Kui Mulang x Jade Maiden rencarnate except they're a demon with koi fish attributes (like the same color scheme as the Jade Maiden but with pretty scales and a flowy tail)

Wolf Fangs and Koi Scales

Kui Mulang x Jade Maiden Reincarnate (Koi Fish Demon)

Created by: Starlight, Owner 2.

Type of content: Oneshot

Point of view: Second

Word Count: 1,089

TW: Mentions of murder, small angst (I wasn’t aware that I had added that in), possible ooc (it could be in character, we just haven’t seen how he is around the Jade Maiden. After all, he was basically featured in one episode.)

A/N: Starlight here. Starbeam (Owner 1) put me in charge of this ask. If you notice a different style of writing for both of us, then you’re right. I get most of my writing styles from reading too many classic books. (Please save me) However, I don’t mind getting to be a little silly on my main account. You can definitely see the clear difference between us 😊

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

Silence. Irritating, lonely silence. It reverberated in the ears of Kui Mulang. In any other moment, the air would have been filled with screams—agonized, desperate cries of those whose souls he devoured, savoring their terror with a cruel smile. Yet now, only the oppressive quiet of the throne room surrounded him. A weary, disenchanted sigh escaped his lips. Perhaps he had grown weary of this existence. Was it truly so difficult to find his lost love once more? Had the relentless march of Time claimed her irrevocably? Was he merely clinging to a mirage of hope? No, he could not succumb to doubt. He had ventured too far down this dark path to consider redemption. He must press on.

Thus far, his guards had failed to present any new captives. No souls? Kui Mulang assumed that the denizens of the region had received the warning and chosen to keep their distance. Resolving to take matters into his own hands, he decided upon a solitary stroll beyond the palace walls. None would object, he reasoned. Moreover, it had been some time since he last ventured forth, and the diversion would serve to occupy his restless spirit.

A thought unfurled within his mind. What if he were to find the reincarnation of his beloved wandering about? A solemn sigh escaped him as he made his way toward the palace exit. It was a wild notion, indeed, but not one beyond the realm of possibility. Though it was a chance in a thousand, he would grasp it. Kui Mulang surveyed the palace’s exterior surroundings and commenced his walk along the dirt road, his gaze fixed solemnly ahead.

Memories of the Jade Maiden surfaced: her radiant smile in response to his words, her voice as melodious as a harp, and her laughter—that he missed most. It was her laughter that could banish the oppressive silence of his palace. In truth, he had never regarded that cold and dark palace as a home. Nowhere could he deem a home without her presence.

—

He had been walking for quite some time now. The moon had ascended higher in the sky since he last glimpsed it. Lost in contemplation during his quiet stroll, he unexpectedly encountered a river. How peculiar—it seemed unfamiliar to him. Could his memory of the outside world be fading? No, he must simply have overlooked it before. The demon approached the riverbank, determining it was an decent place to pause and rest briefly. Yet, from the corner of his lavender eyes, he detected a movement…or was it a figure?

He tensed, squinting at the disturbance in the water. It might have been a mere fish, but few fish boasted scales so elongated. Kui Mulang called out, his voice tinged with both curiosity and a chilling edge.

“Who lurks there? Reveal yourself, or face... consequences.”

He was greeted by the sound of splashing—yes, unmistakably splashing, farther downstream. Stealthily and with great caution, he traced the source of the sound, and his eyes widened at the sight before him. There you were, a demon resembling a koi fish. Your fins and scales cascaded elegantly, reminiscent of flowing robes in hues of white and sunset orange. He was struck with astonishment. What manner of power did you possess? Who were you, truly?

"You appear troubled. But fear not. I'm y/n, and you must be the owner of the palace not far from here," you said, your smile warm and kind.

He was taken aback. His guards had never mentioned finding you, and if they had, they certainly hadn't brought you to the palace. Your smile seemed innocent, brimming with joy. He felt an urge to shatter your soul and consume it on the spot, yet found himself unable to proceed. Why? Not even a cruel demon like him could answer that question.

“Are you aware of the fact that I could kill you right now?”

“Of course.”

“But you won’t run- or, well, swim away?”

“If you were going to harm me, you would’ve done so already.”

The wolf demon had paused, contemplating your words. You were correct, he realized. He could have struck the moment he spotted movement in the water. Even if you were merely another demon, he couldn't fathom why he had refrained from devouring your soul. Was it because you reminded him of... her? No, that couldn't be. You could never be the Jade Maiden, despite the unsettling resemblance in your smile and the way your fins and tail resembled her elegant attire. The parallels were uncanny.

“Are you aware of who I am? Truly, do you know my name, or what I have done besides being the cause of demise for the creatures in the area?”

“…I was planning on asking you the same. You feel like a stranger I’ve crossed paths with before. Many times, in fact.”

Kui Mulang took a surprised step forward, disguising it with a throat-clearing cough. It all seemed too good to be true. You didn't appear to remember him entirely, but there were hints of familiarity in your manner. Even one memory would be enough. If you truly didn't recall... he would gladly bring you back to the palace and assist you in any way he could. Hope surged within him, albeit tinged with desperation. Part of him wished you would deny knowing him at all, so he could get rid of this false hope and consume your soul. Yet, it felt like you were being sincere. And that genuinely frightened him. Fear gripped him—the fear of losing the Jade Maiden, of losing what he had just found.

With utmost gentleness, he took your hands in his and gazed into your eyes. He detected a hint of surprise in your expression as your hands rested in his grasp, along with a touch of fluster. He whispered softly in your ear, his voice slightly hesitant yet filled with hope, “Who was I to you in those memories?”

“…you were someone that I felt like I cared about, it felt like I loved you. Isn’t that strange?”

A small, hesitant smile crept onto his face as he suddenly enveloped you in his arms, drawing you close in a tight embrace, indifferent to his robes becoming damp from the river. He almost felt as though he were hallucinating from the sheer joy of the moment. Closing his eyes, he buried his head against your shoulder.

“Dearest, I could never think it was strange…”

“It still seems surprising, of course.”

“Ah, still as humorous as ever, I see.”

#kui mulang x reader #lmk x reader #lmk kui mulang #jade maiden reincarnate x kui mulang #lego monkiekid x reader #lego monkie kid x y/n #writers on tumblr

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flowerandblood · 1 year

Text

Song from the Sea (5) (End)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Greyjoy! • fem! oc!reader]

[warnings: mention of sex, fluff]

[description: Aemond and Aegon arrive in the Iron Islands, to confirm the arrangements made years ago and the marriage of Lord Greyjoy's daughter to Aemond. (Anon Request) During a break on a long journey, at one of the taverns Aegon drags him to, Aemond meets a woman, who will change his life forever. (Anon Request) Smut, angst, sexual tension, domination.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond tossed and turned throughout the night, waking and falling into a deep, restless sleep alternately. He wasn't used to having someone lying so close to him, pressed against his body, her intense scent arousing him, and not letting him fall asleep in peace.

Once in a while, he would open his eye, to see her relaxed face, dreaming peacefully, her partially exposed breasts rising and falling steadily.

There was something reassuring about the sight, the sense, that this could be their life. He did not expect, that his future wife would be able to arouse his desire. That he'll like, what he sees in front of him. Looking at her now, he no longer felt anger or frustration. He closed his eye, trying to fall asleep again.

Deep sleep came only in the morning, when the sun was slowly rising. He heard the sailors already running around the ship above them. He muttered, trying not to focus on their loud screams, burying his face in her hair, hugging her back slightly.

He heard her slowly start to rise. His hand tightened on her nightgown, when he made a long growl from his chest, clearly dissatisfied. He heard her smile at the sound.

"I have to go up. The captain needs me." She said softly, he could feel her looking at him.

"Tell him, that you'll spend the morning with your husband." He hummed low, half asleep.

It took him a moment to open his eye, swallowing hard, feeling a cold sweat on his back, realizing, what he had just said. He heard her shift uneasily in her seat, surprised.

"I can't. Husband." She whispered the last words in such a way, that heat ran through his body. Embarrassed by his appearance, he didn't respond to her words and released her, turning his back on her.

"I'll be up soon." He spoke low, impassive. He shivered as her hand gently stroked his back.

"All right." She said softly and stood up, quietly opening the door and closing it behind her.

Only then did he turn onto his back and rub his hand across his face. After what they'd done, what they'd said to each other, he had to remind himself, that they were only engaged. He shouldn't talk to her like that, much less fuck her. He sighed heavily, knowing, that he wouldn't fall asleep again.

He came out on deck after a few minutes. He saw with surprise, that the sky was cloudless, the sun shining on the horizon, rising slowly, the sea calm around them. He saw Lady Greyjoy, talking quickly about something with the other man, who had accompanied her to the inn at the time, bald and all tattooed, an earring in his ear.

When they saw him, they stopped talking, and he felt uneasy at the thought. He wondered, if they were talking about him and turned away, pressing his lips together. It made him sick to think, that she might have told someone, about what they were doing.

She approached him slowly, her hair partly pinned back, blowing in the light breeze. Her expression, unlike his, was gentle and calm. She even smiled at him, keeping some distance from him, remembering good manners.

"We will have breakfast together with the captain, if you will allow it, my prince." She said contentedly.

My prince. Not my husband.

He thought of her, moaning the words again and again, as he fucked her. As if she wanted to get used to the sound of these words on her tongue, to disenchant them, so that they would not associate her with coercion and betrayal of her father, but with pleasure.

He nodded at her words and they both went to the captain's cabin.

Captain Seray's room was much larger than his. There was a table in the middle, on which were spread out maps, goblets, rum bottles and books. Everything in the room seemed to be arranged chaotically and without order. He saw, that there were also metal plates and tankards, in bowls pickled cucumbers, herrings, cabbage and other dishes, that had no right to spoil at sea.

Captain Seray stood up, reaching out to them, kissing Lady Greyjoy on the cheek. He didn't dare touch Aemond, only nodded at him, inviting him to the table with his hand, his expression good-natured and coarse. He sat down heavily, on the other side of the table, placing his hands on his rather large stomach, reaching for a large jug of wine.

"We're not going to drink rum for breakfast!" He laughed low, pouring himself a cup full. Aemond stared at it blankly, trying not to show his embarrassment.

Lady Greyjoy rose, taking the pitcher from the captain, pouring herself some wine, but much less than him. She handed it to him, and he looked at her, surprised. The captain laughed at his expression.

"No one will serve you here, my prince." He said gently.

Aemond gritted his teeth, as he took the jug from her and poured himself more wine, than usual. He figured, that if he was going to get through this breakfast without offending anyone, he needed more alcohol. He set the pitcher down on the table with a loud noise, and Lady Greyjoy and the captain exchanged a knowing glance across the table.

The captain helped himself to a few herrings and easily tore a large loaf of bread, immediately stuffing a piece into his mouth. He had enough tact to swallow what he ate first, and then speak. He washed down his mouthful with a great bow of wine and set his goblet down on the table, sighing contentedly.

"How did you sleep, my prince? I hope you didn't suffer any inconvenience." He said, wiping his white mustache and beard from the last drops of wine. Aemond stared at him impassively. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Lady Greyjoy had put a few things on her plate and decided he would take the same as hers.

"Very well, thank you." He said matter-of-factly, taking a piece of dried ham into his mouth. It was terribly salty, but upon further reflection, he found it surprisingly tasty.

“Your wife-to-be has never given up her cabin to anyone else. It's been hers since she was eight." Said Captain Seray, amused, Lady Greyjoy laughed lightly at his words as she continued eating. “She snuck onto my ship under the cover of night. By the time we discovered she was on board, we were too far from the Iron Islands to turn back."

He thought, glancing at her thoughtfully, that he had been little older than her, when he had snuck out of the palace after Laena Velaryon's death, to tame Vhagar. The first time he mounted her great back, he felt the wind in his hair and the blood rushing through his veins, as she flew high in the air. He lowered his gaze at the thought, that he was taking everything she loved from her.

"Tomorrow we will reach the port, where we are to pick up the goods, after which we will return to the Iron Islands." He continued, and Lady Greyjoy pursed her lips, looking down, swallowing silently the bite, that she had just taken into her mouth.

When they left the captain's cabin, they hardly spoke to each other. His wife commanded part of the crew and kept the course on track, and he wasn't going to disturb her, recognizing, that since it was her last voyage, he will let her use it, as she wished. He went below deck and delved into the book, that he had started reading the day before. Once in a while, though, he would break away from her, to glance out the small window.

He wondered, how she would find herself in King's Landing. It worried him more and more, that her role and what was expected of her, might overwhelm her. She was a traveler, a free spirit, not a lark in a gilded cage like most of the ladies, that he knew. He was afraid, that in confinement, she would slowly wither and die. He thought that, in fact, she would have no one there, but him.

She spent the next nights in his cabin, in his bed. Even though they didn't talk all day, it was only when she lay naked beneath him, that she moaned sweetly words, that made him hot, all he wanted to hear. She called him her husband, her dragon, her king, driving him crazy, making his fingers clench tighter around her sticky, hot body.

Each time he came deep inside her. He thought, that he wouldn't be surprised, if she found out, that she was already bearing his child. The thought of his offspring in her womb filled him with pride. He wondered, what kind of mother she would be and what kind of father he would be. He pursed his lips at the thought, that she might die in childbirth, the first wife of his father.

She let him fall asleep, with his face pressed against her chest. She wrapped her arms around his head, enclosing him in the warm, secure embrace of her body. She would stroke his hair then, humming a calm, nautical tune, and he, to his own surprise, fell asleep almost immediately, waking up only in the morning.

He saw a change in her demeanor on the last day of their journey. She left his cabin before he woke up. At breakfast she was pale and didn't speak much, locked up in her own world. He thought, that he felt sorry for her, but he couldn't find any words of comfort for her. When she saw the Iron Islands on the horizon, she turned her head and went below without a word.

As they moored to shore, he saw out of the corner of his eye, that Captain Seray walk over to her, taking her hands in his. He gave her his compass, speaking quickly, and she burst into soft sobs. Several other men came up to her, embracing her, apparently saying goodbye. Aemond looked down, knowing, that he was the cause of it all, but he couldn't help it.

He invited her to come with him to King's Landing on Vhagar, but she refused. She preferred to go on a ship, to look at the sea. He was disappointed by her answer, but he understood and respected her decision. He bid her a courteous farewell, knowing, that he wouldn't see her for weeks.

When Aemond returned to the Red Keep, he couldn't find himself. A few days on the ship had completely changed him, making local gossip, fawning lying lords and chattering ladies more irritating, than usual. He felt like an actor in a theater, feeling, that nothing around him was real. He thought, surprised, that he wished she had come sooner, than planned.

Even though he didn't have to, he had been waiting for her at the dock with Ser Criston on the day she arrived. Ser Criston had tried to question him about his future wife, as had his mother, but they had gotten no response from him. He didn't want to talk to them about it.

He felt his heart beat faster, when he saw her. She wore an ornate, black coat and long, black pants, her hair braided back in a fancier hairstyle than usual. She walked slowly down the plank to the shore, looking at her husband uncertainly. He saw, that she was pale. That she's afraid. His chest tightened at the thought.

"My Lady." He spoke low and bowed his head slightly, as did Criston.

"My prince." She said softly, lowering her eyes, as she bowed to him. He thought, that he didn't recognize her. That her fire was slowly fading before his eyes.

The three rode on horseback towards the Red Keep, crowds of curious onlookers flocked to see her. She heard their whispers and cries, some praising her father, others calling him a traitor and a self-proclaimed king.

She looked down at the insults, Aemond looking at her out of the corner of his eye. When they reached the keep, Lady Greyjoy dismounted with an easy, light movement, not even waiting for someone to come to her aid. Aemond smiled at the sight.

"This way, my lady." He said calmly, motioning with his head for her to follow him.

They passed the corridors and cloisters of the Red Keep, filled with lords and ladies waiting to see her. To see if the legends of the bearded, huge, muscular Iron Women are true.

He saw the disappointed looks of the daughters of the great lords, as they saw, that she looked completely normal, and moreover, her face, body and hair looked pleasant, to say the least.

In accordance with the wishes of his parents, he brought her to them first. The king could barely get up, so he just sat, but the queen got up as soon, as she saw them, spreading her arms in front of the terrified girl, embracing her tightly.

"My sweet girl. It's wonderful, that you managed to arrive. I hope, that your journey went smoothly." She said, letting go of her. Lady Greyjoy nodded, trying to smile.

"Thank you, my queen. Yes, the trip was very pleasant.” She said softly, her hands clasped in front of her, her face pale. The queen motioned for two girls, who were standing by the wall, to come over to her.

“These are Lena and Anya, your servants. They will be at your call and will show you your chamber. All your belongings is waiting for you there. I also gave you some new gowns, that I hope, you will like.”

Lady Greyjoy nodded quickly, swallowing hard, as she glanced uneasily at the two young girls in front of her. Aemond knew, that she understood immediately, that they would be reporting her every move to the queen, but neither he nor she could do anything about it.

She had been put in a cage, his mother had just turned the key in it and had it in her pocket. Whether she wanted it or not, his future wife was no longer a free.

She didn't even glance at him, as she left with her servants. His mother came over to him, clearly pleased, smiling warmly.

"She's a good, humble girl. I heard the Iron Women don't wear any gold or silver jewelry. I think it's wonderful, that you're going to marry a girl, who doesn't care about worldly things or wealth." She said, clearly pleased, stroking his shoulder, as if to comfort him. Aemond only grunted, lost in his own thoughts, and left their chamber with slow, lazy steps.

He didn't know, what to do with himself. He wanted to go and talk to her, but he didn't know about what. There was nothing to add.

He knew, that she was distraught, that her golden cage was breaking her strong spirit more, than any of his biting words. He thought, that the sooner he came to terms with the new situation, the better for her.

He returned to his chamber, sitting in an armchair in front of his fireplace, tired and discouraged. The thought of marrying her didn't scare him that much anymore. What terrified him more, was the thought of her becoming a living spirit, a dragon, locked for eternity in a dragon pit.

He flinched, as he heard a soft knock on his room. He lowered his hand, that had been stroking his chin, resting it loosely on his armrest.

"Come in." He spoke dryly and loudly, without emotion.

He felt his heart beat harder in his chest, as Lady Greyjoy stepped inside, closing the door quickly behind her. He stared at her, shocked. They both knew, she shouldn't have come to him, that the Red Keep wasn't the Iron Islands, and that any intimacy between them was only allowed, after they were married in the sept.

He couldn't get the words out.

She was dressed in a King's Landing gown, a flowing, yellow dress, that went perfectly with her dark hair and golden eyes, accentuating the soft, pale undertone of her skin. Her hair was partly combed back in a bun. He thought, that she looked surprisingly delicate and beautiful.

He swallowed hard, as she covered her mouth and burst into sobs. He stared at her in pain, breathing heavily, knowing, what had broken her.

It wasn't her.

They dressed her up like a doll.

He got up slowly, with a loud creaking of the wooden armchair and walked over to her, looking at her with an effort of indifference. He nonchalantly wiped a tear from her cheek, looking at her with a stony face.

"You are Iron Woman. Pull yourself together. Give them what they want. Play and pretend." He said calmly, low.

She inhaled sharply, her chest heaving uneasily. She swallowed hard, looking at him with eyes, that made him hot.

"Do you want me to pretend in front of you too, husband?" She asked, hearing the word sent shivers down his spine. His thumb pressed against her lower lip and parted it slightly, revealing her fleshy, wet surface.

“Never.”

_____

I decided to end here because from the beginning I wanted it to be a mini-series. I think it leaves a pleasantly open ending with the knowledge, that both of them will support each other in these difficult times for her. 😌

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol

Others: @fantasias-creativebubble @dc-marvel-girl96

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