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imonanotherlebel · 4 months ago

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Passion - Jacaerys Velaryon

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem Reader

Not proof - read.

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Genre : Romance, Smut

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, kissing, penetrative sex

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The sky was painted with hues of amber and rose as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over Dragonstone. The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and brine, mingling with the distant roars of dragons as they flew overhead. You stood at the edge of the castle's courtyard, your gaze fixed on the horizon, where Vermax's silhouette was visible against the fading light.

Vermax had grown considerably over the years, his once-sleek form now imposing and powerful. His scales shimmered like molten bronze in the fading light, and his wingspan cast a wide shadow over the courtyard. Once only able to carry a single rider, he was now more than large enough to comfortably saddle two, a testament to the bond he shared with his rider and the strength he had gained over time.

"Are you ready, my love?" Jacaerys's voice broke the tranquility, and you turned to see him approaching, a soft smile playing on his lips. He was already dressed in his riding leathers, the Targaryen crest emblazoned on his chest. His dark curls framed his handsome face, and the sight of him made your heart swell with affection.

"Always," you replied, smiling as you took his outstretched hand. He helped you up onto Vermax's saddle, settling you in front of him so that you were nestled against his chest. The dragon's scales were warm beneath you, and you could feel the rumble of Vermax's breathing as Jacaerys climbed up behind you.

"Soves, Vermax!" with Jace's command, Vermax spread his massive wings, lifting off from the ground with a powerful beat that sent a rush of exhilaration through you. You leaned back against Jacaerys, feeling the solid strength of his body as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as Vermax soared into the sky.

The wind whipped through your hair, the thrill of flight filling your veins as you looked out over the vast expanse of the sea. The world seemed to stretch out infinitely below you, and for a moment, it felt as though you and Jacaerys were the only two people in existence, free and untethered.

Jacaerys's breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in, his voice soft and intimate. "I've always loved seeing the world from up here, but it's even more beautiful with you snuggled close to my chest."

You smiled, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. "I feel the same way, Jace. There's nowhere I'd rather be than here, with you."

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin as Vermax banked gently to the left, beginning the descent back to Dragonstone. The island's familiar silhouette came into view, and soon enough, Vermax landed gracefully in the courtyard, the thrill of the ride still buzzing in your veins.

As you dismounted, your two young children of five and three came running out from the castle, their excited giggles filling the air. "Mama! Papa!" they called, their small feet pattering against the stone as they rushed to greet you.

Jacaerys scooped them both up into his arms, laughing as they clung to him with wide grins. "Did you enjoy watching us ride, my little dragons?" he asked, his tone teasing.

"Yes! Did Vermax fly really high?" Your son, who was the oldest, asked, his eyes wide with wonder.

"He did," you replied, ruffling his dark curls. "One day, you'll be riding him with us."

Your daughter of three clung to your leg, looking up at you with wide eyes. "Can I fly with Vermax too, Mama?"

"Of course, sweetling," you said, crouching down to press a kiss to her forehead. "But not until you're a little older. Then you can ride your own dragon, too."

"Mine own dragon is small. I want to ride Vermax!", the little boy exclaimed, his eyes twinkling. Your daughter giggled, copying her brother's enthusiasm towards your husband's dragon.

Jacaerys set the children down, watching as they scampered off to play, their laughter echoing through the courtyard. He turned to you, his expression softening as he took your hand in his. "Looks like they've got a lot to do. Shall we retire for the evening as well, my princess?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive.

Your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes, and you nodded, your own desire mirroring his. "Lead the way, my prince."

He took your hand, leading you through the castle's corridors to your chambers. The moment the door closed behind you, the air between you shifted, crackling with a familiar intensity that had only grown stronger over the years. Jacaerys wasted no time, pulling you into a searing kiss that left you breathless, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive urgency.

You moaned into his mouth, your fingers threading through his hair as you tugged him closer, the heat between you building with every touch, every kiss. His hands found the ties of your riding leathers, and with practiced ease, he began to undress you, his movements quick but deliberate, as though he couldn't bear to be apart from you for a moment longer.

Once your clothes were discarded, Jacaerys guided you to the bed, laying you down gently before stripping off his own leathers. His eyes raked over your naked form, a dark hunger burning in their depths as he crawled over you, his body pressing down against yours with a delicious weight.

His lips found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone, his hands mapping out every curve of your body as though he were committing you to memory all over again. The familiarity of his touch, the way he knew exactly how to make you gasp and moan, only heightened your arousal, and you arched into him, your body begging for more.

"Jace," you breathed, your voice trembling with need as you felt him pressing against your thigh, hot and hard. "Please..."

His response was a low growl against your skin as he positioned himself between your thighs, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss as he slowly pushed into you. The sensation of him filling you was both familiar and exhilarating, the perfect blend of pleasure and connection that came from years of loving each other so intimately.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts deep and slow, each one drawing out a wave of pleasure that left you trembling beneath him. The way he filled you, the way your bodies fit together so perfectly, was nothing short of bliss, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core with every thrust.

Jacaerys's pace quickened, his breathing growing more ragged as he drove into you with increasing intensity, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he took you higher and higher. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the slapping of skin against skin, the breathless moans and gasps that escaped your lips as you chased the peak of ecstasy.

It wasn't long before you felt yourself on the edge, your body trembling with the force of your impending release. Jacaerys could feel it too, his thrusts growing more erratic as he neared his own climax, his lips pressing wet kisses to your neck, your collarbone, anywhere he could reach.

With one final, deep thrust, you were both sent over the edge, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your release washing over you in a flood of sensation. Jacaerys followed you over the edge, his body tensing as he spilled his seed into you, his hands clutching at your hips as he rode out the last shudders of his release.

For a moment, the world seemed to still, the only sound in the room the ragged breaths of Jacaerys and yours. Jacaerys slowly lowered himself down beside you, pulling you into his arms as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his hands stroking gently over your hair as you both caught your breath.

......................

The light started to dim through the windows as you lay entwined in Jacaerys's arms, the warmth of his body a comforting presence beside you. The evening had been one of passion and love, a reminder of the deep bond you shared as husband and wife.

Jacaerys pulled your face closer once more, fingers entangled in your hair. He started to kiss you softly, his neediness growing once more.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your passionate moment, and Jacaerys groaned, burying his face in your neck as if to shield himself from the inevitable intrusion.

"Go away, Luke," Jacaerys called out, his voice muffled against your skin.

The door creaked open, and Lucerys peeked in, a mischievous grin on his face. "Mother says dinner is ready, and she sent me to fetch you. Or should I tell her you're otherwise occupied?"

You laughed, swatting at Jacaerys's shoulder playfully as he groaned again. "We'll be down in a moment, Luke," you said, trying to suppress your own amusement.

"Take your time," Lucerys replied with a wink before closing the door behind him, leaving you and Jacaerys alone once more.

Just as you were about to settle back into Jacaerys's embrace, the door flew open again, this time with Rhaena and Joffrey barging in, both grinning like fools. "Are you two planning to stay in bed?" Rhaena teased, crossing her arms with an exaggerated sigh.

"Seems like it," Joffrey added with a wink, making you and Jacaerys exchange amused glances.

Jacaerys sighed, rolling onto his back as he gazed up at the ceiling, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I suppose we should join the others before they send the whole castle to drag us out."

You chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to his chest before reluctantly sliding out of bed. As you began to dress, you couldn't help but steal glances at your husband, admiring the way his muscles flexed as he stretched, the marks of your passion still visible on his skin. The sight sent a thrill through you, a reminder of the love and desire you shared.

Jacaerys finally rose from the bed, pulling on his own clothes with a lazy ease that only made him more irresistible. He caught your eye and smirked, clearly aware of the effect he had on you. "Don't look at me like that, or we might never leave this room," he teased, his tone light and playful.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile as you finished dressing. "As tempting as that sounds, we do have responsibilities, my love."

He sighed dramatically, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. "Very well, let's face them together."

Hand in hand, you made your way to the dining hall, where the rest of the family was already gathered. The children were seated at the table, eagerly digging into their dinner, while Rhaenyra and Daemon conversed quietly at the head of the table. Lucerys, Rhaena, Baela, and Joffrey were seated nearby, their faces lighting up as they spotted you and Jacaerys entering the room.

"There they are!" Lucerys exclaimed, a teasing grin on his face. "We were starting to think you'd decided to skip dinner altogether."

Jacaerys chuckled, squeezing your hand as you both took your seats. "Not today, Luke. We wouldn't want to miss out on Mother's famous lemon cakes."

Rhaenyra glanced over at you both, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "I trust you two had a good restful evening?"

The slight arch of her brow made you blush, but you managed to maintain your composure. "Very restful, Your Grace," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

Daemon smirked, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Good to see the young ones are still keeping the fire alive."

Rhaenyra shot him a look, but there was amusement in her eyes as well. "Let them be, Daemon. They're allowed their moments of happiness."

As dinner continued, the atmosphere remained light and filled with laughter, the warmth of family, and the bonds that had been forged through love and loyalty. Your children chattered excitedly about their plans for the next day, while Jacaerys stole occasional glances at you, his eyes filled with an affection that made your heart swell.

After dinner, the family began to disperse, each member heading off to their chambers. As you stood to leave, Joffrey approached with a sly grin on his face. "If you two ever need a babysitter for the little ones, I'm sure Lucerys and I could be persuaded," he offered, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You laughed, swatting his arm playfully. "I'll keep that in mind, Joffrey. But don't think I didn't notice how you conveniently avoided the last time we asked."

Lucerys joined in on the teasing. "I'm sure Vermax could help keep them entertained. He's always up for a game of 'Chase the Dragon, isn't he?"

Jacaerys rolled his eyes, but the fond smile on his lips betrayed his amusement. "Just remember, you're the one who has to explain it to Mother if anything goes wrong."

The banter continued as you made your way out of the dining hall. The day had been beautiful. Your heart swelled with happiness and appreciation for your family.

But as you and Jacaerys walked hand in hand through the corridors of Dragonstone, the warmth of his touch and the memory of the evening lingered between you, a silent promise of the passion and love that would continue to burn bright, no matter what the future held. You just knew the passion was not over for the night. The chambers tonight will be....... eventful.

.....................

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preg-canis-limus · 5 months ago

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Naga king and his new human

You are the newest concubine in a Naga King's collection. In an agreement between his kingdom and yours, you were sent as a representative of your people to join the king's haram. You were at a sort of loss; you were but a small human in this swarm of nagas dressed in jewels and fine silks. They didn't have anything that fit you, so you had to make your own clothes from their silks and fix your own jewelry with whatever small pieces you could find. You felt out of place amidst their shiny scales. The great equalizer was, however, how you were expected to bear the king's children.

Again, you were a bit out of your element. Nagas were oviparous, and there was worry throughout the court if your body would be able to handle it. So until the day came, they decided it was best to get you comfortable with your expected duties with some "Exposure therapy."

You sat in on EVERYTHING, from lessons for the concubines to their cooking to cultural events to even bathing, which left you a little flustered. But not as much as the nightly duties; you sat in as the other naga tended to the king and learned a lot about naga anatomy in the process. Naga sex is so ROUGH. The first time you saw the king's two, not one but two, giant cock's emerge from his slit, you almost choked on your own spit. Long, thick, and TWO OF THEM, yeah, you now understood the apprehension, but you watched anyway. You watched as they kissed, long tongues slithering down throats, clawed hands grabbing at areas of exceptionally soft skin. It was a whole nother world compared to human sex. You watched as their tails curled around each other, and the king finally lined up one of this cock's with the concubine's slit; almost on command, the slit opened and gaped for the king, and he entered without a second thought. You sat there, watching their coiling bodies, and imagined yourself in the concubine's place, wondering if the king would do the same to you. You didn't have a naga tail, and you're almost certain your slit can't just open on command. Would he be rough with you like that? Would you like it? Would he coil around your body, bending your arms and legs so you couldn't move while he takes you without abandon? You hate to admit, or maybe you don't, that the thought of it riles you up and has you shuffling in your seat, hoping for some friction to relieve the minor but encroaching ache.

The birthing process was also a hurdle you had to overcome, so like with everything, you sat in on the other concubines laying their clutches. It was stressful in that room; surrounded by attendents, the room was hot and busting with energy. You watched as the concubines were tended to, almost pampered, as naga birth was less... active than human birth but even more lengthy with the large number of eggs they had to lay. You watched as each egg slowly slipped out of their holes, one by one, a wet plop accompanying their descent. You watched intently, the slight bump under skin as the eggs traveled down to their holes before falling out into the rest of the pile.

It didn't look pleasant, but it looked... stimulating. Your senses would be overwhelmed as your body pushes out egg after apple-sized egg. You watched, intrigued, facinated at how they could perform such a feat. You lay in bed at night, imagining how it felt. Did hormones numb the feeling, or could you feel every inch of each egg as they traveled through you? Did it feel good? The occasional wave of pleasure amidst a sea of discomfort. Each day, you watched, and each night, you lay staring at the ceiling as you fantasized about the shape and feel of every egg eventually passing through your body. After a while, you couldn't help but look forward to it. To the day you would finally be taken and made for sire a brood. While you're sure the experience may be glamorized in your sexually pent-up eyes, you can't help but fanaticize, obsess, or desire the experience. The passionate sex, the feeling of being filled with eggs, and the intimacy of laying them make your head spin in ways it never has before, and you don't know if you'll ever be the same.

Now, being all riled up at everything you've witnessed, the king was surprised at how eagerly you wiggled your soaked cunt against his cocks.

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stellarbit · 9 months ago

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Shadows of the Order

the sad batch x reader

5.5k words themes hurt and comfort

You were separated from the Batch when Order 66 was executed on Kaller. Even as a Jedi dropout you weren't safe. Left behind, you have to recover and restart in the world after the Republic. You'd hoped to never run into Clone Force 99 again, but that hope ran out one day. featuring: a b1 battle droid

You know who deserved better? The clones. You know who else? The B1 battle droids. So I stuck a clanker in here for funsies. Had a ton of fun writing this. Hope y'all enjoy a little anguish. I'll be doin a spicy one next.

You fought alongside Clone Force 99 for a long time before the Battle of Kaller. Before Order 66. After meeting the padawan, Caleb, at the rendezvous point, you’d split off from the group to assist a team of troopers on the mountain while the boys joined General Bilaba.

The troopers you encountered recognized you from your days with the 501st. Despite your repeated efforts to clarify that you were no longer a Jedi, they seemed unconvinced. Fortunately, after dispatching a group of droids, the remaining Separatist forces were routed towards the main front, allowing your group to do the same.

As you neared the midway point down you noticed the troopers falling back. Sliding to a stop in the snow, you turned back. There were about 10 of them, all standing around one holding a holocomm of a hooded figure. Half of them looked at you in sync, fixing the grip on their guns, the rest followed a heartbeat later.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Somewhere far down the mountain you heard screaming and blaster fire at the same moment the troopers turned their guns on you. You took off away from the troopers before the first shot rang out.

“Get the Jedi!” A lone trooper pierced through the chaos.

Quick thinking led you to drop a stun grenade, followed by another, as you sprinted onward. The explosions managed to incapacitate some of the troopers, but not enough. Switching your blaster to stun mode, you sought cover behind a nearby tree, emerging only to neutralize the nearest clones before a shot hit your right shoulder, propelling you into a desperate sprint away from them.

With escape and evasion as your only viable options, the Marauder seemed too distant to reach in time. Instead you aimed for a waterfall you spotted while landing. It was a slim chance, but your best hope for losing the troopers.

As you fled, you deliberately dug your fingers into the wound on your shoulder, leaving a trail of blood in your wake. It was a risky move, but if you had any hope of evading capture, they needed to track you. When you saw the water through the trees you wasted no time in ripping away your chest plate. As soon as you got to the crest of the waterfall you launched your chest plate over the edge.

With one glance over the cliff, you gritted your teeth, pressing into your injured shoulder, crouched, and lowered yourself over the ledge. You grabbed high over the ledge and drug your bloody hand back down over. One more look below to ensure a safe landing spot and let go. Relying on the Force to guide your descent into an alcove leading behind the cascading water.

Once there, you swiftly shed the remaining pieces of armor, discarding them into the rushing stream as you shifted farther into the veil of the waterfall.

When you finally heard the troopers at the cliff edge, all you could do was listen, wait, and hope they fell for it.

��Looks like she tried to scale down,” one of them remarked, his voice carrying over the sound of rushing water.

“There! In the water, I see her armor!” Another trooper's voice rang out, sending a jolt of panic through you as you desperately sought cover. Their voices dropped too low to hear before you caught the tail end of the conversation.

“Confirmed, Commander Grey. The Jedi has been neutralized. Visual confirmation obtained,” a trooper reported, the cold finality of his words chilling you.

The clone trooper paused, most likely receiving transmission. “Yes sir. Alright boys, we are to rejoin Commander Grey and head out. His forces eliminated Bilaba and Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan. Gather the stunned troops and let’s move out.” That was the last thing you heard before the troopers left.

Your heart stopped. The blood in your veins froze. You lurched for something - anything - to steady yourself on. One moment everything was normal and the next you were being gunned down by clones you risked everything for. Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan.

There wasn’t enough air in the tiny alcove to think, the waterfall was too loud, the water hitting your face too cold. Desperately, you gripped the slippery rocks as your legs gave out.

Nothing made sense. Questions raced through you, each more unsettling than the last. Had all of the clones turned on the Republic? Why were they targeting Jedi specifically? Clones that served with General Bilaba for years suddenly gunned her down.

Nothing added up. If the orders affected all clones, there was a good possibility that the Bad Batch was also following them. Despite their independent streak, they were still clones, some orders had to be followed. It was a sobering realization - one that left you feeling vulnerable and nauseous. You weren’t going to be safe until they left. If they left.

The thought of aiming a weapon on the members of Clone Force 99 cracked something inside you. Besides, it was foolish to think you had a chance against all of them. With an entire army of reinforcements, attempting to take them on would be nothing short of suicidal.

Survival became your sole focus. There was no time to dwell on what went wrong or how to escape the planet's unforgiving terrain. For now, all you could do was stay hidden, biding your time until the coast was clear.

One by one, you discarded your armor and any identifiable markers into the water. It wasn’t about shedding your identity; it was a practical decision, one you could handle. Not long after, the sound of footsteps echoed from above. You pressed yourself against the rock again, your senses on high alert.

An eternity seemed to passed before the person moved. “The Jedi target was neutralized. If she’s not already dead, she’s as good as it.” It was Crosshair’s voice, cold and detached.

There was another moment of silence before you heard Tech’s voice, “Affirmative. Blood stains indicate she attempted to scale down the cliff and subsequently fell.” His tone was as clinical as ever but you almost fooled yourself into thinking there was something else to it. “Pieces of her armor are wedged in the rocks below. Crosshair is correct, if she did not perish on impact the likelihood of her survival is negligible. We need to leave.”

They weren't out there to rescue you; they were there to confirm you were dead.

It was all too much to process. Every muscle, every bone, every nerve in your body seemed to fail, leaving you a trembling mess. When the two men finally left, you didn’t know.

“We don’t leave our own behind.” You heard Hunter’s voice and heard his lie.

They left you. You fought for them, yet they hunted you down and abandoned you.

Long after night had fallen, you mustered the strength to climb out of the alcove, your injured shoulder protesting every movement. Descending into the battlefield, you searched for a salvageable ship and supplies. Amidst the wreckage, you stumbled upon the one thing you weren’t looking for.

General Bilaba’s lightsaber. She must’ve lost it in the struggle. Such a valuable thing lost to the snow and wreckage, not even retrieved. Disposable. You held the cold metal in your hand before tucking it away.

You found one ship that might manage to get off the ground. Nearby, you spotted a partially disabled battle droid, still in remarkably good condition despite its current state. It appeared to have been incapacitated by a stun grenade. As you examined it, Tech's lessons on droid maintenance flooded your mind, particularly the techniques for reprogramming them for combat purposes.

Kneeling beside the droid you flipped it onto its back to access programming. You’d pulled it off before, reprogramming battle droids to counter attack. You just never thought you’d need the skills like this.

The process was far from seamless. You electrocuted yourself on the power supply, nearly damaged a circuit board while removing the restraining bolt, and the rewiring process dragged on longer than expected, especially under the cover of darkness.

Eventually, the battle droid sprung to life, clutching its head as it sat up. You lowered yourself onto one knee as the droid adjusted itself. "Where am I?" its questioning began, its metallic voice filled with confusion. "Is the battle over? Did we win?"

Hearing the droid address you instead of immediately engaging in combat felt oddly surreal, but given the day's events, it was perhaps the least strange thing. "What is your primary directive?" you asked, trying to gauge its functionality.

It clunked a hand against its head. "Huh, that's odd. I don't seem to have one."

That was a start.

You rose to your feet and offered your hand. "In that case, how about we team up and find a way off this rock?"

Its head swiveled from side to side as it processed the proposal. "You mean, I get to choose?"

You let out a small scoff and maintained your outstretched hand. "Your options are coming with me or staying here to rust."

"Fair point," the droid responded, almost cheerfully, as it reached for your hand. "So, what's the plan for getting off this dump?"

You gestured toward the ship you hoped to salvage. "Can you handle starship repairs?"

“Sure thing, boss. Want me to clean it up?”

You threw it a puzzled look, “Why would I-” You shook your head, “No, we need to repair it enough to get it off this planet.

“Well, that doesn’t make sense.” The B1 unit pointed at the ship. “That ship doesn’t need repairs, we just crashed it.”

Maybe picking a battle droid for an assistant wasn’t the best choice. “Was it your group that crashed it?”

“Yep!” It said too proudly. “Happens all the time. But I told you, this one doesn’t need repairs to fly.” The droid paused for a second, tapping a metal digit to the tip of its face, then added. “Yet.”

That didn’t bode well for survival. You waved for it to follow you, “Let’s see if you’re right.” Over your shoulder you asked. “What can I call you?”

“My identifier is OOM-672.”

Walking amongst dozens of disabled B1 units you mused, “Looks like you’re about to be one of the last OOM models in the galaxy. So why don’t we cut that down to O2?”

“Wow!” The way it vocalized almost added syllables to the word. “Yeah, O2 sounds much better! What do I call you? Master?”

You cringed at the sound of that. “I’m not your master, O2. We’re going to have to settle with being friends or buddies.”

“You got it, Buddy!”

Thankfully, O2 was right. The ship could fly and it had enough fuel to get you far from Kaller. Enough to get you all the way to the Outer Rim if you wanted. It was risky, but following the pattern of the day, it was your only chance at survival. You just didn’t let O2 pilot.

After the rise of the Galactic Empire, you and O2 settled on a planet in the Mid Rim. You scavenged and sold enough equipment from Kaller for a comfortable amount of credits to start off with. You pieced together a new identity, often concealing your face beneath a helmet and relying on a voice modulator. Being dead in the eyes of the Empire had its advantages.

The best way to stay hidden, you figured, was to stay in plain sight.

You wormed your way into ownership of a small inn. Although, your background as a Jedi and a soldier left you ill-prepared for running a business, and you struggled to turn a profit.

“O2!” You shouted from the lobby.

The battle droid sauntered in from the dining area. “Yes, Buddy?” The droid’s nickname for you always worked a smile out of you.

You tossed them a rusted-out metal part, which they scrambled to catch, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. After a few failed attempts, they finally managed to grasp it securely. “The circulator for our boiler is busted. Can you head to the market and fetch a replacement? The parts dealer should have one available.”

“Roger, roger!” O2 chimed enthusiastically, ready to depart.

You yanked them by the shoulder. “O2,” You warned. “Do you remember how to pay?”

They rolled their head in an exaggerated display of weariness. “I know, I know - ‘charge it to the tab.’”

Raising an eyebrow, you waited for more. “And?”

O2 tapped a compartment on their chest, revealing a few credits inside. A result of some previous tinkering done by you. “And I have the extra credits.”

“And what’re they for?” You pressed.

“For ‘just in case.’” They replied

Stepping forward, you pushed the compartment closed. “In case of trouble, O2,” you reminded them firmly. Giving them a light knock with the back of your knuckles, you added, “Give me a call if you find yourself staring down the barrel of a blaster.”

As far as O2 was concerned, they had it easy. You rescued them from decommissioning and in return, all you asked for were simple tasks and the opportunity to tinker with their hardware. The tinkering, more often than not, turned out for the better - at least most of the time.

When you and O2 first arrived, the presence of a battle droid initially unnerved the townsfolk. However, they grew accustomed to O2's quirky demeanor. O2 was more goofy than intimidating almost by design. Plus, after a few instances of O2 causing trouble with the neighbors, they quickly learned to keep their hands off the droid. Often with a not so subtle reminder of a vibroblade at their throats.

O2 ambled through the town, exchanging waves with the occasional vendor. Stalls and shops lined the narrow, winding streets, colorful canopies providing shelter from the sun for the patrons below. Amidst the hustle and bustle, droids weaved through the crowds, delivering goods and providing services to customers.

As O2 approached the parts dealer, raised voices caught their attention. Nearby, at a fruit stand, a vendor held a pear just out of reach of a young girl. "That's not fair!" the girl protested, reaching for the fruit. "I already paid you!"

Deviating from their path, O2 made their way toward the girl. She appeared to be a young human with light hair, a visitor to the town.

"Hey, stop that!" O2 called out in their attempt at an authoritative tone. They reached the girl and bent slightly to address her. "Are you in trouble, young human?"

The girl turned to O2, visibly puzzled. After a moment of assessing the situation, she nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah," she replied, more confidently this time. "Yes. He's taking my money but insisting I still owe him more." She pointed a finger accusingly at the vendor.

O2 looked between the vendor and the little girl several times. When they finally grasped the situation, they exclaimed, “Ohh! You’re in trouble and need more credits. That’s perfect!” They poked open the compartment on their chest, revealing the credits.

The girl shook her head in disbelief. "N-no, I've already paid," she insisted, casting a disdainful glance at the vendor. "He's just trying to cheat me."

Raising a finger in a gesture of understanding, O2 interjected, "You're in trouble and these credits are for 'in case of trouble.'" They plucked out a few credits and pivoted at the hip to offer them to the vendor.

From behind the booth, the vendor's expression shifted to one of quiet annoyance, yet he begrudgingly began packing a bag with pears. "There's no trouble, O2," he retorted curtly, dropping the bag into the girl's arms. "Now, move along, kid."

The girl frowned at the man but did turn away. She looked up at O2 with a smile. “Thanks,” She pulled a curious face and stepped back from the droid for a better look. “You’re a B1 battle droid. What are you doing here?”

“I’m purchasing a new part.” O2 held up the broken circulator as proof.

She held back a smile. “No, no. I meant, weren’t all battle droids supposed to be decommissioned.” She gestured around her, “So what are you doing out here alone?”

O2 didn’t have time to respond when a man yelled, “Omega! Get away from that thing!” A male with a face tattoo shoved through the crowd and slammed the battle droid in the chest with the hilt of a blade.

“Whoa!” O2 yelled, stumbling backward into the fruit stand.

The little girl squeezed between O2 and the man. “Don’t hurt them, Hunter!” She threw her arms out to shield O2. “They were just helping !” Three other men arrived behind Hunter while O2 righted themself.

One of the men, with a socket for a hand, pushed to the front of the group and pointed his prosthetic at the droid. “Omega, you don’t know what that clanker is capable of.”

“Hey!” O2 whined in protest and shook a fist at him. “You can’t call me that!”

“Says who?” Growled the largest man of the group.

“Says my buddy!” O2 started reaching for its head to send out a comm when the fruit vendor grabbed his hand.

“O2!” He laughed nervously and patted the droid harshly, “There’s no trouble.” The vendor pointed a finger at the men. “I’m not dealing with their friend today, so move out.”

“Friend?” The big guy repeated incredulously.

The cyborg hovered his hand over the blaster at his hip. “Where’s your master, droid?”

O2 thrusted their head in a sassy manner, “I don’t have a master.”

Hunter moved Omega to the side and put his knife just below O2’s head. “Why don’t you take us to this friend of yours?”

“That depends.” O2 said skeptically. “Are you looking for an inn?”

Hunter passed a look to the men behind him. “An inn?”

“Only customers can come to the inn. So - are you looking for an inn?”

Hunter lowered the knife and jerked his head to say ‘get going’, “Sure thing. Now, let’s go.”

“Roger, roger.” The droid said with a little salute and then tapped his fingers to the tip of his face. “Say, do I know you guys?

“Move it, clanker.” The cyborg ordered again.

Back at the inn, you waited in the lobby reading through bank statements. The front door was open to the street, allowing you to hear O2’s distinctive footsteps approaching. You pushed away from and around the desk to greet them. “That may have been your fastest run yet. How much - oh!” You stopped mid sentence when a young girl trailed in behind the droid. Behind your headgear you smiled, “Did you make a friend?”

The little blonde waved up at you, “Hello.”

A dent in O2’s chest plate caught your eye. You motioned for the droid. “O2, what did you do to your chest plate?”

“Well, I didn’t do it.” The droid sassed, but moved forward and leaned down for you to inspect. You reached up, held their head, and moved it side to side for inspection. Other than the dent they were fine. You patted their face in relief when, from the corner of your eye four figures filed in.

You went stock-still at the sound of a familiar voice, Hunter’s voice. “You own this clanker?”

This was it. This was the day you died.

Giving O2 one last pat, you turned to face the Bad Batch standing in your doorway, as formidable as ever. Hunter led the group, with Echo on his left, Tech on his right, and Wrecker flanking Echo. Crosshair was conspicuously absent. Their mismatched armor was newly painted in vibrant colors.

Silently assessing them, you took a moment to compose yourself, shoving your fear and anger as deep as you could. Their demeanor said they didn't recognize you and you needed them gone before they did.

"Sure," you replied vaguely, your voice muffled by the voice modulator. Keeping your gaze fixed on the clones, you instructed O2, "O2, grab my satchels from the back." Without hesitation, the droid complied.

"What are you doing with a separatist battle droid?" Echo's voice bristled as he stepped forward. "Do you realize how dangerous that thing is?"

Images of Echo tending to your wounds flooded in, abruptly interrupted by the recollection of red blaster shots narrowly missing your head.

"OOM-672 has been reprogrammed," you replied, waving your hand dismissively. "They no longer pose a threat and wartime objectives have been nullified."

"Incorrect," Tech said as he tapped the side of his helmet to move his visor. "If the droid's reprogramming is faulty, it could revert to its original directives at any moment. Depending on the data stored in its memory, that could prove dangerous should it fall into the wrong hands." He advanced toward O2, pointing a finger. "Allow me to examine it—"

“Their programming is fine.” You instinctively took a step back, bumping into O2 with the bags you requested. One had spare credits for bribing them out of your parlor and, in case that didn’t work, the other contained a blaster and Bilaba’s lightsaber.

As you sorted through the first bag for credits, you spat, “No one lays a hand on the droid except me. Especially not a bunch of clones." With a flick of your wrist, you tossed a handful of credits at Hunter. "Now get out of my lobby.” You made the mistake of addressing them as clones and hoped the odd comment passed over them. They obviously didn’t look like other clones to the untrained eye.

"Oh!" O2's voice chimed in recognition, but you swiftly raised a hand to silence the droid.

“Do we look like we work for the Empire?” Wrecker asked, almost growled, with hands on Omega’s shoulders.

Hunter glanced at the credits before tossing them back. “Just let us look at the droid,” he urged.

Without missing a beat you caught the credits, brandished the blaster, and aimed it at the leader. Immediately, the other brothers aimed their blasters at you. "Got a malfunction in those helmets?" You gestured toward the exit with your weapon. "I said leave. No stranger gets their hands on my droid."

“Strangers?” O2 stepped to your side and pointed at the group of clones. “They’re not strangers. We know them.”

Your blaster dipped for a moment, frustration nipping at you before you firmed up your grip. “O2, knowing someone for five minutes doesn’t mean you know them.”

“Just calm down.” Hunter said slowly.

“Five minutes?” The battle droid shook their head in confusion. “We go waaay back.” They hummed a thoughtful sound. “Although they did stun me on Kaller.” A chill gripped your spine at the mention of Kaller.

"Kaller?" Omega's gaze flitted between the men around her. "Where's that?" The rustle of shifting armor filled the lobby as the four men exchanged glances, their blasters trained still on you.

“Who are you and how did you get that droid?” Echo's voice carried a forceful edge as he pushed you.

“Get out.” You repeated with more venom. “Clones follow orders. That’s an order.”

Hunter slowly raised his hands, removing his helmet and revealing his tattooed face. The sight of him made it hard to breathe through.

"We're not with the Empire," Hunter declared. "And we're not big on following orders, either."

"Liar!" Your scream reverberated through the room, the voice modulator straining against your volume. Something flickered in Hunter's expression.

For someone with no skin in the war, you were proving to be awfully reactive.

"Hunter," Tech intervened firmly, prompting you to swing your blaster in his direction. "Look at that blaster." You glanced down at your weapon, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

“What about it, Tech?” Hunter asked.

“That blaster has nonstandard modifications. Only five like it exist.” Tech explained, his tone serious.

“Not the time to be admiring blasters.” Echo snapped.

“The issue is,” Tech shot an annoyed look at his brother. “They are my modifications.” His grip relaxed slightly. “We have four of them and the other was - ”

You fired a shot at Tech before he could finish and attempted to fire another when Hunter lunged at you. He knocked the blaster from your hand and swung for your head. Wrecker shoved the kid behind him while you and Hunter exchanged blows, his hitting much harder than you remembered.

You saw Tech activating a stun grenade as O2 reached for your blaster. Yanking a vibroblade from your hip, you rammed the hilt of it into the side of Hunter’s head, causing him to stumble back. Swiftly, you lurched in the way of the stun grenade, intercepted it, and threw as far as you could behind you.

Echo took no time in disarming and disabling O2 while Hunter regained his senses and grabbed for you. His touch was a breath away when you thrust out your hands and blew him back with the Force. Before Hunter could register what happened, Wrecker grabbed you by the neck, and yanked you from the ground.

You clawed at his hand but couldn’t stop the giant crushing your windpipe and ripping off your headgear.

Seeing your bare face, livid and unable to breathe, shook Wrecker and gave you the chance to slam your feet into his stomach. He dropped you to the ground where you writhed and gasped for air. Your dropped blaster was nowhere in sight, but the other satchel was.

Still retching for air, you threw a hand out and the lightsaber flew to you. Green light blasted out of the hilt, parallel to the ground and putting a thrumming barrier between you and the clones.

“A Jedi?” Omega said in wonder, poking her head around Wrecker. Wrecker, notably, didn’t push her back behind him.

They all lowered their weapons and Tech, Echo, and Wrecker removed their helmets. Different shades of shock on all of them. “Sarad?” Tech spoke softly.

“Stay away from me.” You growled from the ground. Slowly, you repositioned yourself, strengthening your stance to pounce or run.

“We thought you were-”

“Dead?” You cut Wrecker off and cut a look at Tech. “Guess you aren’t as thorough as you think.” At that, Tech’s eyebrows hit his hairline.

“We didn’t follow that order.” Hunter interjected.

“Liar!” You lashed out. “I heard the troopers. ‘Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan.’”

Hunter started lowering himself to your eye level. “We let him escape.”

Echo stepped forward, his eyes avoiding yours. “We thought you were dead,” he admitted. He closed his eyes for a moment before finally meeting your gaze. “We thought the other troopers got to you, but we came looking for you as soon as we could.”

You didn’t dignify him with a response, in your eyes the only thing they deserved were holes through their chests.

Out of all of them, Tech stood the straightest, his demeanor showing no sign of shame in their handling of the situation. Still, he thought carefully on how to say what he needed, his hands clenching and unclenching as he processed it.

When he locked eyes with you, it was clear he’d considered his words meticulously, repeating the process in his mind multiple times before coming to the same conclusion

“With your blood and broken armor, there were two plausible outcomes,” he began, counting them out with his fingers. “First, that you perished either by the troopers or the falls. The second, that you…” His gaze momentarily shifted away, seeing your armor in the rocks. “... that you escaped.” Returning his gaze to yours, he continued, “In both scenarios, our intervention would have only made things worse. And Crosshair-”

You jumped to your feet in a challenge, Hunter quickly positioning himself between you and the others. “I don’t believe you,” you hissed, swinging the saber to the side before snapping it back in front of you. “So finish what you started.”

Hunter maintained his steady gaze as his brothers holstered their blasters. “We won’t fight you,” he assured, his tone resolute. Your eyes darted between them, searching for any sign of aggression. Seconds stretched on but the men held their ground.

“He’s telling the truth,” Omega whispered, joining Hunter at his side. "All clones were programmed to follow that order." She cast a meaningful glance at the men surrounding her. "But their altered states made them immune to the order."

For months, anger had been your constant companion, fueling you through each passing rotation. Anger at the Jedi Purge, at the failures of the Republic, and most of all, the seething rage at the Bad Batch for leaving you behind to bear the weight of it all alone. Months of grief and pain don’t just disappear.

The room seemed to warp and blur around you, your grip on the saber beginning to falter. Clinging to it tightly, you gritted your teeth, fighting to maintain your composure. The world snapped back into focus when tears finally breached your resolve, slipping down your cheeks unchecked.

“Then….” your arm dipped before falling limply at your side. “You left me for dead.” Your voice cracked and the words came out in a sob. “You left me behind.”

You thought the pain of them hunting you was the worst thing you could experience. The realization of abandonment was worse. A tight knot formed in your stomach, threatening to make you sick.

Driven by months of simmering anger, you shook your head through your tears. , “I survived without you, and I’ll keep surviving without you.” You let the green light of the saber fade. “So just leave.” The last words came out less like the command you wanted it to be and more like plea.

Wrecker ‘s eyes went wide, “You think after all this time,” he gestured toward you, “when we just got you back, we’d just leave?” A defiant look passed over him. “Sorry, not happening.”

“Sarad,” Tech spoke like it was just the two of you. YoYou closed your eyes briefly, savoring the familiarity of his tone. For a moment, you thought they might all disappear, as if they were never there. “Leaving you was a choice we never wanted to make. But it was the choice that led us here and ensured your survival. Keeping you alive was more important than keeping you by our sides.” He nodded, standing firm in his choices. “Your survival was the only acceptable outcome.”

The lightsaber grew heavy in your hand.

Wrecker reached out with a pleading gesture. "The regs would've— we couldn't..." He faltered, searching for the right words, but Omega touched his forearm and urged him forward.

Wrecker stepped through his brothers and although you flinched like you might run he reached out and touched your face. First with one hand and then a second when you tried to turn away. Holding you like that, seeing you safe in his hands, made it hard for Wrecker to ever imagine letting go.

Tears continued to flow down your cheeks, falling over his hands. Wrecker swept them away with his thumbs before pulling you into his arms. "Sorry, Sarad. We're sorry."

Your hands hovered on either side of you, it was the first time you’d truly touched another organic lifeform since Kaller. The lightsaber hit the ground and you fell into Wrecker.

You’d let yourself feel angry at them all those months alone, but, in an instant, it was overshadowed by the grief of having been without them.

Pulling just out of Wrecker’s embrace you rubbed away the remaining tears. “I’ve missed you.”

“We missed you too.” Echo answered for the group.

Looking between them all, you felt like the world was a little safer. There were a few things standing out to you though. First being the little girl with them and Crosshair’s absence.

Immediately reading you, Hunter touched Omega’s shoulder. “A lot has changed.”

"I can see that," the girl smiled warmly at you, her expression oddly familiar despite never having met before.

Tech breezed past you, heading straight for O2. He knelt beside the droid, adjusting his goggles before turning to you. "So, you really salvaged this droid from Kaller?" You affirmed with a nod, prompting a look of mild disturbance from Tech. "And it's proven to be useful?" Another nod from you. "Well, that's just as surprising as your survival," he remarked, his tone tinged with genuine curiosity.

"Be kind to O2," you interjected, joining Tech by O2's side to rouse the droid. "They're my friend."

Echo scratched the back of his head, a sheepish expression crossing his features. "That's... going to take some getting used to."

Omega joined you and Tech, her eyes wide with fascination as Tech began to point out various features of the battle droid. A smile tugged at your lips as you watched the interaction unfold. The inn you had purchased never truly felt like home, much like Coruscant and the Jedi Order before it.

But here, amidst the Bad Batch, you finally felt a sense of belonging. You were home.

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deepspacenova · 13 days ago

Text

𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄

2000 words | missing scene. dragon sylus. light-hearted. sort of fluff.

Beyond Cloudfall [Deleted Scene]: In which we experience the trials and tribulations of a frustrated dragon and a snobby mountain cat and how, exactly, that cat came to find the Sorceress of Ivory City.

Note: Dragon!Sylus lives to keep his chokehold on me another day! Haven’t been able to get this out of my head since (like MC) I realized Sylus went on a whole ass adventure to make her feel better with a cat. Full of self-indulgence and an out-of-his-depth Sylus. Hope you enjoy xx

The Dragon stood at the mouth of his cavernous home, gazing out at the rain-soaked city below with a stoic frown. The glowing embers of its citizens’ hearths twinkled in the distance, mocking him with their warmth. The scenery was almost peaceful—a true testament to how unbothered Tarus City was by the Legion’s mindless warpath. He didn’t know whether it was admirable or just another example of mortal stupidity.

Behind him, a disturbing silence clung to the rocky walls of the cave. The scent of the sorceress — which seemed to have nestled itself inconveniently into every crevice of his supernatural senses — marked her location atop a stone platform.

Though she toggled between the top of the cave she’d almost hurled herself over the other day — the sharp feeling in his gut from the incident, most likely irritation, had only just dissipated — and the platform, her silhouette remained the same. Knees drawn to her chest, blankly staring into space. He shifted uncomfortably, obsidian horns lightly scraping against the cave’s jagged overhang.

She wasn’t crying, he knew. She never cried, though he almost wished she would. That would’ve made it easier for him to write her behavior off as nothing more than some human hysterics.

Instead, she exuded a quiet, crushing sorrow that weighed more heavily on his conscience than he cared to admit. She’d been like this for days.

Despite the world’s insistence of his monstrosity, of his evil nature, the dragon didn’t innately enjoy her despair. In fact, she was weighing down the elation he should’ve been feeling over his long-awaited freedom. Shackle-less, far from the abyss, pillaging nearby towns. This should be a happy occasion for him, by the gods, and she was ruining it.

He’d already tried tributes. In his experience, mortals liked trinkets. The greed in their eyes when they gazed upon gold and jewels almost always overtook any other emotion. He grimaced as he recalled yet another way she defied those expectations the past few days, picturing those empty eyes glazing over further at the sight of his offerings.

The dragon sighed. He loathed how her sadness clawed at him, a grating reminder of the humanity he’d long since tried to bury. But she treated him... differently. This fragile, stubborn human.

Not as a man. Not even as a monster or a dragon. When she spit her version of fire at him, she looked at him as though he were something else entirely. Harmless, unremarkable, and, well, a nuisance.

It infuriated him, and yet he’d never been regarded with such… normalcy.

He rubbed the back of his neck, claws clicking softly against his scales. He needed to do something. Her melancholy was suffocating.

He unfurled his wings, the membrane stretching taut against the sharp gusts of wind that coiled around the mountain peak. With a powerful leap, he launched himself from the ledge, the force kicking up loose pebbles that scattered down the mountainside. The air whipped past him as he angled his descent toward the copse of trees clinging to the slope below.

The treetops swayed gently beneath his shadow as he descended and folded his wings tightly against his back. He strolled the area as his irritation bled into a sense of purpose.

“What does a human even want?” he muttered to himself.

As if in answer, a faint yowl drifted up from the distance. The dragon froze, senses on alert. Peering down the incline of the small forest, he spotted a small, shadowy figure weaving through the underbrush. A scruffy little thing, it had lowered onto its haunches, tail flicking as it hunted for something amidst the tall bushes.

A mountain cat.

He snorted at the absurdity of the creature’s arrogance. The cat was lean and scrappy, its fur sticking out in untamed tufts. It was prowling around with single-minded determination, oblivious to the real predator watching it from above.

“A creature as insufferably small and contrary as she is,” he scoffed. Then again…

The corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but close. Perhaps this... thing would do.

The thought of those despondent eyes brightening even slightly steeled his resolve.

Without another word, the dragon unfurled his wings and took flight, gliding effortlessly through the trees, just high enough to keep his approach silent. The soft crunch of underbrush and a flicker of the cat’s ears were the only signs of his arrival.

He stood motionless as the creature turned its curious yellow eyes toward him, fighting offense when it flicked its attention back to its prey, completely unbothered.

“Right,” the dragon said, crossing his arms. “You’ll come with me willingly, or I’ll drag you by your tail. Either way, your new destiny is to be a gift.”

Abandoning its prey, the cat sat up at the sound of his voice. Finally, some self-preservation in the face of his intimidating presence.

”So? What’ll it be, little beast?”

The cat blinked at him and then licked its paw, clearly unimpressed. The dragon narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t mistake this for a negotiation, now.” He crouched low, his tail coiling behind him. “I am Stayrus the Fiend. My name alone strikes fear into the hearts of—”

The cat darted away before he could finish, slipping into the underbrush with a small chirp. Growling in indignation, the dragon lurched forward, His wings folded against his back as he pursued, claws tearing through leaves and brambles in his path as the chase began.

It became quite apparent, however, that his dragon-like physique was more well-suited for widespread destruction rather than stealth. His horns snagged on low-hanging branches, his claws caught on roots, and his tail kept dragging in the soft earth, leaving deep gouges in his wake.

The infernal creature, meanwhile, moved like smoke, slipping effortlessly through gaps and crevices too small for him to navigate. Without his reptilian vision, the dragon was sure he’d have lost it by now.

“Cursed vermin,” he hissed, pausing to disentangle his tail from a thorny bush. “Do you even know who I am? I could scorch this entire hillside with a single breath.”

Though the mountain cat didn’t answer, it did take refuge atop a precariously balanced boulder near the cliffside, its gold eyes glowing mockingly in the moonlight. The dragon glared at it, debating the merits of simply incinerating the creature and presenting her with a pile of ash instead. But no, that wouldn’t do.

She wouldn’t smile at ash.

The ground beneath him was nowhere near strong enough to hold him for long so he shifted his weight and stepped forward carefully, determined to capture his prey. Just as he was close enough to extend his grasp, the cat sensed him and leapt to the next perch, then the next, its movements fluid and maddeningly graceful until it reached the edge of the cliff, paces away from plummeting toward its sad little death.

The dragon growled low in his throat.

“You test my patience, creature,” he snarled, lunging for it. His claws grazed its tail, but the cat slipped free, landing neatly on a patch of grass in the opposite direction.

It meowed at him — a taunt, he was certain of it — before darting off again.

The moon continued to rise over Tarus City as the hours passed and midnight arrived. The once-pristine hillside now bore visible scars of an angry dragon’s pursuit of a wily mountain cat: gouged soil, uprooted foliage, cracked branches, and a few unfortunate scorch marks where the dragon’s temper had flared. The cat, however, remained unscathed, not one patch of fur out of place.

He was reclined against a tree trunk to catch his breath, glaring at the smug feline — who was currently lying on its side, tail swishing calmly every few seconds — as he tried his hardest to hold together what remained of his composure.

And his dignity.

“Alright, enough games,” he rumbled, getting to his feet.

The dragon closed the distance between them in a few swift strides, his footfalls as unrestrained as his frayed patience. To his astonishment, the cat did not flee. Instead, it sat up, blinked lazily at him, and began grooming itself, utterly unperturbed by the massive dragon towering above it.

“You’re mine,” he declared authoritatively as he reached for it, his moonlit shadow engulfing the small animal.

When his claws were inches from its fur, he hesitated, frowning as the cat glanced up and met the dragon’s gaze with an expression that could only be described as disdainful.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he said flatly. “Have you been… playing?”

The feline exposed its teeth with a yawn.

The dragon huffed, a stream of smoke trailing from his exhale. “Fine,” he snapped. “But if you bite me, I swear—”

In one swift motion, he scooped the cat up, lifted it into the air, and nestled it into his arms. It only tensed for a moment before it settled, its tiny body warm against his chest. The dragon blinked, uncertain what to make of the sudden compliance and the contented rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate its body.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, cradling it awkwardly as he spread his wings. “Do not get used to this.”

The flight back to the cave was uneventful, though Sylus was acutely aware of the cat’s claws kneading his scales. It was a strange sensation, almost pleasant — though he’d be taking that confession to his grave.

When he landed, he paused at the cave entrance, staring into the dimly lit yet lavish interior where she still sat, her silhouette framed by the distant city. He frowned, his grip on the cat tightening slightly.

He couldn’t let her know it was from him. That would ruin everything.

Carefully, he placed the cat on the ground and gave it a gentle nudge toward the cave.

The cat hesitated, glancing back at him as if to say, you coming?

“Go, you vexing creature,” the dragon said, his voice low. “She’ll like you better than I do, that I can promise.”

The cat seemed to consider this, then accept it, padding cautiously into the cave. Every few seconds it would stop to sniff a treasure or rub the side of its face on a damned goblet, like it was purposefully pulling at the last strand of patience left in the dragon’s body.

Careful to stay hidden, he watched from the shadows as it approached her at last, its tail flicking curiously.

She didn’t notice until it brushed against her leg with a trilling chirp, causing her to blink down at her unexpected visitor.

“Where did you come from?” she murmured, her voice soft but warm. Hesitantly, she reached out, her fingers brushing its fur. The cat made that contented rumbling noise again, leaning into her touch.

And then — finally — a faint smile graced her lips. It was a small thing, fragile, and gone almost as fast as it appeared. But it was enough to melt a block of tension from his body he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

As she started to sigh and coo over the smug bastard — who was acting as if it had scaled the mountainside to reach her on its own four paws — the dragon backed away, retreating to his usual perch deeper in the cave.

He couldn’t say he’d be willing to go through the hours he had spent chasing that infuriating creature again. The frustration and humiliation. The near-incineration of half this mountain.

But seeing that ray of joy banish the stormy dimness from her gaze for a fleeting moment? Well, suddenly the grave indignities he’d suffered that night didn’t smart so badly.

Let her think it was fate, or luck, or some divine gift. Let her smile. That was all that mattered.

He settled in to watch her from afar.

“You’re welcome, my nemesis.”

#I just want to see this man humbled by his love for MC #and a small sassy kitty #is that so much to ask #sylus #dragon Sylus #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #lads mc #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #Drabble #sylus fanfic #qin che #sylus love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #my writing #nova writing

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