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notgonnaedit · 30 days ago

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Given to Fly

One Shall Rise, Part 2

Summary: Martha "Marty" Thorne was a basic teenager, a little antisocial maybe. But her life changed the day she met the Autobots and joined them in their fight.

Pairing: Optimius x Teen!OFC (Platonic)

Chapter summary: Optimus makes a daring gamble.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Marty's worried, Mama June, I've been watching a lot of Warrior Poet Society, Dadimus (If I miss a tag LMK)

Updates are sporadic. If you want to be tagged LMK

@dreamsight73 @virtuouslux

Master list

"Optimus, have you uncovered any further sign of Unicron's emergence?" Ratchet inquired.

Through the comms, multiple voices spoke, yet they belonged to the same speaker. "Unicron is power incarnate, and you, the last of the Primes, shall perish."

"I take that as a ‘yes’," the medic said. "We are on our way."

"Negative," Optimus ordered. "Unicron cannot be defeated by sheer force. He wants me, Ratchet. This fight must be mine alone."

Marty rubbed her eyes underneath her glasses. "Freakin’ Prime..."

"I have always found Optimus' selflessness his most endearing and annoying quality," Ratchet concurred.

"So... we're going after him?" Bulkhead asked.

Ratchet answered by activating the ground bridge.

It wasn't long before Optimus was asking why everyone was there, which Arcee retorted by saying he was Unicron's target and should return to base.

"These manifestations of Unicron can locate me anywhere on Earth. Even our base's shielding would only cloak my position for so long. I will not put others at risk."

"Then fall back and let us take the lead," Bulkhead said. "Just this once."

"Don't be a fool, Optimus," Marty said. "You're our best shot at saving Earth."

"Very well," the Prime conceded.

Marty released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Why did she have to have the guardian that was selfless?!

About ten minutes later, Arcee's voice crackled through, her tone carrying trepidation. "Ratchet...?"

"What is it? What happened?" The medic asked.

"Megatron?!" Bulkhead exclaimed suddenly.

"King 'Con is there, too??" Miko asked.

"He has aligned himself with Unicron." Ratchet narrowed his eyes.

"Don't be so sure," Arcee corrected. "Megatron just saved Optimus' tailpipe."

Then a new voice spoke over the comms. A knife on stone that sent chills down Marty's spine.

"It is rather ironic, considering our last encounter. If memory serves, you were desperately attempting to extinguish my spark," said the warlord.

"That option remains very much in play." Marty could hear the glare in her guardian's voice.

"I would expect nothing less. However, I have a proposal. Join me in defeating our shared enemy – Unicron, the chaos-bringer."

"Ha!" Ratchet barked a laugh. "Absurd! Unicron is evil incarnate. If Megatron was to take any side, why would it be ours?"

"Because Megatron's pride would never allow anyone other than himself to rule this planet," Optimus said.

"You know me all too well, Optimus."

"You lead an army of 'Cons," Bulkhead pointed out. "Why come to us?"

"Because this particular endeavor requires something beyond the realm of my command – The power of a Prime."

Bulkhead chuckled. "Then I guess we don't need you."

"On the contrary," Megatron started, "Optimus may be the only one who can defeat Unicron, but I remain the only one who can guide you to him. Unicron's lifeblood runs through me. Only I can hear his thoughts, anticipate his movements. Optimus, our past alliances – Autobot, Decepticon – no longer matter, not while Unicron lives."

"The past always matters!" Ratchet slammed his fist down.

"A truce between Autobot and Decepticon," said Optimus. "How long do you expect us to believe that will last?"

"Only as long as it's mutually beneficial. And when our proposed shared mission is complete? I will conquer this Earth my way." "Aligning with the lesser of two evils is still siding with evil," Ratchet warned.

"Do you think you've witnessed the full power of Unicron?" Megatron countered. "Those foot soldiers were nothing more than a taste. Unicron has yet to fully awaken. With each passing moment, the ‘Bringer of chaos’ evolves, mutating Earth from the inside out. What we have witnessed until now is but a prelude of the utter devastation his rising will wreak upon your world." "Like your quest for power destroyed Cybertron?" Arcee hissed.

"Make no mistake," Megatron snapped. "This time, there will be a planet left for me to rule." "Even if we agree, Unicron's all the way down at the center of the Earth. How are we supposed to get there – drive?" Bulkhead asked.

"There is only one way," Optimus said.

"Absolutely not!" Ratchet declared. "Ground-bridging into space or onto moving trains is difficult enough. But plotting a blind jump inside of a sentient being?! Besides, direct exposure to that much Dark Energon will debilitate you. You haven't built up an immunity like Megatron has."

"Yet another strong argument for soliciting my guidance," the warlord stated.

"You can provide Unicron's exact coordinates?" Optimus questioned.

"If you transport us to this planet's core, I can lead you directly into Unicron's spark the very heart of his darkness," Megatron answered.

"Optimus, even if we survive the jump, how are we supposed to stop Unicron?" Arcee asked.

"With the Matrix of Leadership."

"What is that?" Fowler inquired.

"A vessel of pure energy, the collective wisdom of the Primes," Ratchet answered.

"Do we have time for a scavenger hunt?" Jack asked. "I mean, where's Optimus supposed to find this Matrix?"

"Optimus does not need to find it," Ratchet explained. "He carries it within him."

"It was the combined power of the Primes that defeated Unicron so long ago, the very reason he now seeks to destroy you," said Megatron.

"It would follow that unleashing the power of the Matrix directly into Unicron's spark would return him to stasis," Optimus mused. "Hold on," Miko said. "If ‘everything goes right,’ Unicron's gonna stay down there?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah. Can't we siphon him out somehow?"

"He's not in the Earth's core, Jack," Raf said.

"He is the Earth's core," Marty finished.

"Rafael and Martha are correct," said Ratchet. "Tampering with your core could affect the magnetic poles, trigger the very cataclysmic events we are attempting to remedy. Tragically, Unicron is your planet's very seed. Always has been and always must be."

)()()()()(

Optimus and the other had returned to base, claiming that Megatron was currently holding off Unicron for them. The Prime had relayed the warlord's offer.

"I know that desperate times call for desperate measures, but bringing Megatron here??" Ratchet asked.

"How can you even think about letting that monster near these children after what he did to Raf?" June asked as she placed her hands on the boy's shoulders.

"He will be closely monitored and only allowed to linger long enough to send us on our journey." Optimus set his jaw. "Not one moment more."

"What's gonna stop the 'Con from calling in an air strike if he knows where you live?" Fowler inquired.

"By ground-bridging Megatron here, he will be unable to get a fix on our coordinates," the Prime explained.

Marty furrowed her brow and took a step forward. "Optimus, what's gonna happen to you when all your Matrix energy is released?"

Optimus turned around, pacing slightly. "The power within the Matrix has not previously been utilized in this particular manner."

"But you have an idea, don't you?" The girl pressed.

Her guardian didn't answer. He stopped for a moment, his back facing them. "Autobots–" he turned around. "–if humankind is to be saved I have no choice but to proceed." He spoke to his team, but his gaze was on Marty. "But you do."

Bulkhead shifted. "Well, I don't know about humankind, but I'm willing to do it for Miko."

Arcee nodded. "For Jack."

Bee buzzed. No one needed a translation to know he was fighting for Raf.

Marty pursed her lips and shoved her hands in her pockets. She looked at her guardian. He didn't have to speak for her to know he was doing it for her.

"Megatron, we are sending transport," Optimus commed.

"You can always be relied upon to listen to reason, Optimus."

The ground bridge opened, and June ushered everyone down the stairs and into a tunnel, saying that it was for their safety.

"No fair!" Miko whined. "I've never seen him! Why do we have to hide?"

"Because I said so!" Ratchet huffed.

Right when they made it to there hiding spot, the warlord walked through the ground bridge. He was large with broad shoulders, even towering over Optimus. He radiated power, as if his very presence demanded respect. Every Autobot had their weapons ready.

Megatron glanced around the base. His eyes –now a deep violet instead of crimson – scanned the area. "So, this is where the magic happens. Quaint."

Raf curled his fists and ran out.

"Raf!" Jack hissed, chasing after the boy. The others followed, running after them.

Raf glared up at Megatron. "You!"

"Ah!" Megatron turned to them. Arcee was in front of them in an instant. "You're looking much better than the last time we met, little one. Humans. Resilient."

Marty stepped forward. "Come on, Raf. He isn't worth it."

"Ah, yes. The young gladiator."

Marty froze at the Decepticon's words. She kept her expression neutral despite her rage. He had hurt her friends countless times, and he had the audacity to speak to her? Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Optimus furrow his brow. She kept her gaze on the gunmetal grey Con in front of her.

The young girl glared up at Megatron, her hazel hues boring into his violet ones. They were still at war, no matter the circumstances.

"I never forget a face – even that of a human," Megatron finished. "Especially one who holds intelligence in her eyes."

Marty didn't dignify him with a response. But Miko did.

The pink haired girl lurched forward. "You double-cross anyone, mine is the face you'll never forget! Never!!!"

Fowler had to grab the girl and pull her back. Marty shoved her hands in her pockets and walked back with the others.

"You...okay?" She heard Jack ask.

"Sure."

Behind her, the brunette could hear her guardian tell Ratchet to get the coordinates from Megatron. Then she felt a familiar, heavy gait behind her.

"Martha," Optimus said.

The girl turned to face her guardian, worried he might ask her how Megatron knew her.

But instead, he glanced over his shoulder and knelt down as close as he could get to her level. "Will you keep something for me?"

Marty frowned as she looked up at him. He seemed so... nervous? It wasn't like him. "Yeah."

Optimus took a silver and blue piece of metal. It shifted and whirred until it shrunk to the size of her hand. It barely fit between his fingers.

"What is it?" Marty asked, gazing at the device.

Optimus wouldn't meet her eyes. "It is the key to the ground bridge power supply."

She pursed her lips as he finally looked at her. "Okay, but shouldn't Ratchet have this?"

"Perhaps," he said softly. "But I've been impressed by how strong you've become since we first met. As such, I feel you are worthy of safeguarding this important device until I return."

He paused, furrowing his brow. "While I do not know how Megatron learned of you, I believe he is correct."

Marty blinked in surprise. "I don't–"

"But your fighting spirit is not your only quality, for you have the mind of a warrior, and the heart of a poet," the Prime told her. "It is for these reasons I believe you to be righteous enough to hold the key to...the ground bridge power supply."

Marty felt a swell of pride rise within her. Her gripped the key between her fingers. "I won't let you down."

Optimus smiled softly and just a touch sadly. He took one of his fingers and patted her head gently. "I know you won't, Little One."

He stood and walked off to the ground bridge. Marty stood there, the key to the power supply in her hand, watching as her guardian went to go save Earth. Not just for humanity, but for her.

#tfp optimus #tfp optimus prime #tfp #tf prime #transformers prime

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srim01997 · 1 month ago

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Second Chance | Aemond T. x OFC

Paring: Aemond “One-Eye” Targaryen x Viseara Targaryen (OC), Aemond Targaryen x Viseara Targaryen (OC), Implied Aegon II Targaryen x Celtigar! OFC

Fandom: House of The Dragon (HBO)

Warning: Violence, Canon Divergence

Writer’s note: Let me remind you, dear reader, that this is a complete work in my language, translated into English. Therefore, there may be plot holes and grammatical mistakes in this work. English is my second language, not my mother tongue.

I recall the quote Mirena said to Vlad in the movie "Dracula Untold," and I decided to include it in this chapter.I also remember how old Viseara is in this story, which is why the ending unfolded as it did. She is in her late 40s and pregnant once again at this age. I promise that a special chapter will be released soon.

Please ilke, comment and reblog!!

Previous Chapter| Second Chance masterlist | Special Chapter

Chapter 17 The end of a story, but the beginning of a new one.

“Didn’t get my message, did you?” Her slender hand rested casually on the hilt of her sword. “I’m not dead, and...”

Before she could finish, another dragon swooped down, its massive wings kicking up a gust as it landed. Its rider descended gracefully, revealing a regal woman adorned with the crown of King Jaehaerys the Conciliator.

“Kneel,” Viseara’s voice rang out cold and commanding, “before the true queen.”

Otto Hightower and the Green Council were forcibly made to kneel by the Gold Cloak soldiers, who remained loyal to the rogue twins. The rogue princess stepped forward, her mismatched eyes gleaming as she approached the Hand of the King, who struggled to comprehend the sudden turn of events—especially the revelation that the person he believed dead was very much alive, contrary to Lord Baratheon’s claims.

“Oh, old leech...” she spoke with a sly smile. “I have an offer for you. Surrender and beg for Queen Rhaenyra’s mercy, and your children will be spared.”

“At worst, Ser Gwayne will be sent to the Wall, and Alicent will become septa—or face whatever mercy the Queen deems fit. But if you refuse?” Her tone darkened as she leaned closer to Otto. “Your son will be Vhagar’s next meal, followed by your precious daughter.”

Her voice softened into a venomous whisper. “Well? Don’t you love your children?”

Grinding his teeth, Otto finally uttered, “Please... please, Your Majesty. Have mercy on me and my children.”

The rogue princess stepped back, allowing the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms to take the reins. Rhaenyra’s gaze fell on Otto with a mix of contempt and satisfaction. This man was the architect of the chaos that had engulfed her and her loved ones—the manipulator who had dragged her former friend and half-siblings into the deadly game of power while they were still children. He had contributed to Queen Aemma’s tragic death and neglected to alter King Viserys’ treatments, ultimately causing her father’s slow, agonizing demise.

Rhaenyra resolved to sever these toxic ties with her own hands, liberating everyone from Otto’s machinations. The Black Queen had already decided Otto Hightower’s fate. His name could no longer linger as a thorn in her side.

She ordered his execution to serve as a grim reminder of his wickedness. Otto was dragged away to the dungeons to await his beheading the following day. Other members of the Green Council were offered exile to the Wall, though some chose death over freezing in the North. Among them was Ser Gwayne.

Alicent, however, was placed under house arrest, confined to her chambers, with only her children permitted to visit. Helaena married Aenys to mend the rift between the two families. Aegon chose to flee to the Free Cities with Elia and their children. It broke Viseara’s heart to let her youngest daughter go so far from her, but she trusted Aegon’s promise to care for her.

Meanwhile, Daeron returned to Oldtown, yearning for the freedom he had once enjoyed. His charm won over many women, as Ser Gwayne had once teased the Green Queen, but in the end, he married Floris Baratheon.

The Hightower family, after these events, lived humbly, avoiding any action that might bring ruin or a fate like Otto’s.

Jacaerys was named heir to the Iron Throne, while Lucerys traveled to Driftmark to prepare to inherit the title of Lord of the Tides from Corlys Velaryon. Lucerys reportedly grew close to his uncles there. Rhaenyra’s remaining sons returned safely from Pentos under the protection of the Velaryon fleet.

On the day of Otto’s execution, the city square was filled with the jeers and curses of the people he had wronged. Dragged to the center, Otto was beheaded amid a cacophony of cheers. His head and those of other Green Council members were mounted as a warning to others.

The Iron Throne accepted Rhaenyra as its queen, leaving her unscathed as she sat upon it—a testament to her rightful rule. The Seven Kingdoms acknowledged her as Westeros’ first queen. With her wisdom and the support of those around her, Rhaenyra resolved lingering issues and ushered in a new era of peace.

The civil war between the Blacks and the Greens had ended with minimal bloodshed.

As for Aemond and Viseara, they secluded themselves on Dragonstone after the war, to such an extent that Jacaerys joked they might as well have disappeared. Servants whispered about how the usually stoic, one-eyed prince was utterly devoted to his wife, rarely leaving her side—especially now that she was heavily pregnant.

On Dragonstone’s balcony, Aemond gently caressed Viseara’s swollen belly and pressed soft kisses to her shoulder. She turned to him with a wry smile. “If I’d been born later, we might have had as many children as King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne,” she teased.

Aemond chuckled and leaned closer to her ear. “Or if I’d been born earlier…” He paused, clasping her hand. “Viseara, I have a confession to make.”

Viseara swallowed hard, realizing she, too, had something to confess. She turned to him. “So do I. Let’s say it together.”

They locked eyes and spoke in unison, “I traveled back in time—”

Both froze in shock. “You time-traveled too?”

“And you as well?” Aemond blinked, astonished. “That explains how you always seemed to know what would happen, even at Storm’s End.”

“Yes... though what happened with Criston was unexpected,” Viseara admitted, scratching her head. “I only wanted to save Rhaenyra and everyone else. I never imagined I’d end up marrying my own nephew.”

“But I’ve loved you for a long time, so let’s call it even,” Aemond said with a mischievous grin. His words reminded Viseara of Alicent’s jest about how he too would have been obsessed with her.

Viseara smirked. “If you were infatuated, you should have said so sooner.”

“I admit, I was too rash and hot-headed back then. It cost me your trust.” Aemond held her hand tightly, resting his forehead against hers. “This time, I won’t lose you again.”

“Just don’t kill me again.”

“I swear.”

Months later… The cries of Viseara echoed throughout Dragonstone as her labor stretched on for hours. Aemond had been sent outside to wait, his worry growing with every passing moment. Finally, the sound of a newborn’s cry pierced the tense air. A maester emerged to deliver the news to the one-eyed prince.

“You have a son, my prince, and he is healthy.”

Aemond rushed into the chamber to see Viseara cradling their newborn child. The prince gazed at the baby in his wife’s arms, noticing the unmistakable Targaryen features.

“Have you chosen a name for him?” he asked.

“Baelon… Baelon Targaryen,” Viseara said with a soft smile, though her face was pale as snow. Her mismatched eyes met Aemond’s, and she spoke again.

“Aemond, could you take me for a ride on Vhagar? Just once. With our son. I want to do what my mother once did with me and my brothers.”

Though Aemond hesitated, knowing she had just endured childbirth, he relented to her wish. He helped her to her feet, carefully swaddling their newborn son before they climbed onto Vhagar’s back. Together, the three of them soared above Dragonstone, the baby laughing joyfully in his mother’s arms.

Aemond felt Viseara’s embrace tighten as her voice, weary yet full of love, broke the silence.

“Aemond… remember when I told you I wanted to have many children with you? If only I had more time…”

“One is enough,” Aemond replied firmly. “Baelon is enough. I don’t want to see you suffer again.”

“Such sweet words… but a man like you could always find another when I grow old,” Viseara teased weakly, resting her head against his shoulder. “You’re a handsome man, after all.”

“You sound like an old woman full of doubts,” Aemond teased back. “You’re the only wife I’ll ever have. I’m free now that my half-sister is queen—I have no need for ambition.”

“Then in my next life, I’ll be born later,” Viseara whispered. “So we’ll be the same age… and we can have many children together.”

“Death cannot separate us, for one life is born from the other,” Aemond said softly.

“Where did you read that?” she murmured, her voice fading.

Aemond felt her grip weaken, but he refused to acknowledge the dread creeping into his heart. He carefully helped her dismount when they landed, cradling their son in one arm. Her delicate hand reached up to touch his cheek.

“Aemond… I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice trembling.

Viseara closed her eyes with a faint smile, her body going limp in his arms. Aemond clutched her tightly, tears streaming down his face as he carried her lifeless body back to Dragonstone for her funeral rites.

The news of Viseara’s death reached King’s Landing swiftly, prompting the family to gather. Aegon arrived with his dragon, Sunfyre, carrying his baby daughter, Elaena. Daeron joined later. The somber atmosphere weighed heavily on all present.

Daemon, upon seeing the newborn in Aemond’s arms, asked, “What’s his name?”

“Baelon. Viseara named him Baelon,” Aemond replied.

Daemon smiled, a rare moment of warmth crossing his face. He gently touched the baby’s tiny nose and said, “Be a good boy for your father, little one.”

Though the ceremony was marked by grief, Baelon’s presence brought some solace. Viseara’s older children from her previous marriage were excited about their new baby brother. Aenys cradled Baelon, rocking him gently, while Elaena played with the infant, easing the sadness in the air.

Aegon consoled Aemond, who was overwhelmed by the loss of his wife. Knowing his brother had a newborn to care for, Aegon ensured Aemond would not succumb to despair. The four siblings spent nights together in the nursery, a rare moment of unity that even brought genuine laughter from Aemond.

Aemond dedicated himself to raising Baelon, refusing to remarry. He did not want to repeat the mistakes of Viserys, who had neglected his children. He even forgave Lucerys for taking his eye, understanding that he too had been at fault.

As Baelon grew, he bonded with a dragon named Nyx, earning admiration from all, including his father. Aemond proudly recounted tales of Viseara’s bravery, saving the more shocking details for when Baelon was older.

Years passed, and Aemond lived quietly, appearing in public only for significant events like his mother’s funeral. Eventually, Baelon grew into a warrior-prince, inheriting the best traits of both his parents. He became a close companion to King Aegon III, strengthening the bonds of House Targaryen.

Aemond passed away peacefully in his bed, the same one he had shared with Viseara. His final words were a whisper: “My dearest Viseara…”

His body was cremated by dragonfire, and his ashes were laid to rest beside Viseara’s. Baelon honored his father’s memory by living a life of courage and loyalty, becoming a legend in his own right.

The Dance of the Dragons was remembered not as a war of ruin but as a conflict resolved with minimal bloodshed. Yet the Targaryen dynasty would face greater challenges in the future, as the seeds of discord sown by King Aegon IV led to the devastating Blackfyre Rebellions.

The pale blonde-haired woman startled awake on a bed, only to collapse back down due to the pain coursing through her body from fighting Baratheon soldiers. She had tried to save Rhaegar but was injured so severely that she couldn’t reach her eldest brother in time. She had watched him fall, and then darkness claimed her.

But now, where was she?

“You’re awake…” a mysterious young man who had just entered the room spoke. He had dark hair and striking blue eyes, reminiscent of the sky. In his hands was a bowl of steaming food. “I dragged you here to hide, and… well, I took the liberty of changing your clothes. Don’t worry—no one will come after you. To them, you’re already dead.”

He handed her the bowl of soup. “You must be hungry.”

The slender woman accepted the bowl and began eating while scrutinizing the man before her. “Why did you save me?” she asked, her lilac eyes narrowing.

The man scratched the back of his neck, visibly flustered. “I… uh… don’t think I’m crazy, but…” He hesitated before blurting out, “I saw you in a dream. Though you seemed… fiercer there.”

“Never mind that… What’s your name?”

“Aemond Blackwood,” he replied, his voice steadying. “I’m named after my great-great-grandfather, Prince Aemond Targaryen.” His gaze lingered on her as he asked, “And you, Princess?”

“Viseara,” she replied, her voice filled with pride. “I’m named after my great-grandmother, the rider of Nyx and the so-called Rogue Princess. I need to leave now; I have to find my mother and my siblings—”

As she tried to stand, she nearly collapsed. The Blackwood man caught her and gently guided her back to the bed. His tone became firm. “You’re not well yet! You need to rest first, and I’ll help you find them. Please, trust me.”

Reluctantly, she nodded, though her sharp eyes noticed him muttering something under his breath. “What did you say?”

“Death cannot separate us, for one life is born from another,” he stammered, blushing slightly. “I read it in a book somewhere… don’t hold it against me.”

Aemond Blackwood’s gaze softened as he gently cupped her face, as though he knew her from another time, though he couldn’t place where or how.

“We could get to know each other better, Aemond,” Viseara said, her voice carrying a teasing undertone.

On the wooden table beside the bed rested a Valyrian steel dagger that had once belonged to Prince Aemond Targaryen, along with a ruby necklace that was Viseara's signature piece. However, neither of them seemed particularly concerned with these relics of the past; instead, they were focused on the growing connection between them in the present.

THE END

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fic

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sev-on-kamino · 2 years ago

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✨WIP Wednesday✨

pairing: Fox x OFC (Daria Trace, and you get soft!Daria today)

Fox flirts and flatters his way to a favor from his favorite matchmaker. (super rough first draft action)

Rating: G but minors aren’t supposed to be here 👀

“You know,” Fox began, “If I have to keep coming to your rescue like this, I’m going to start thinking you just want me around.”

Daria blinked several times, her ever glossy lips parting slightly before snapping shut. Her eyes were wide as they locked onto his visor. For the first time since he’d met her, the quick witted matchmaker was at a loss for words.

“I’m fucking with you, Trace,” he said with a smirk. He’d never seen her flustered before, and he found that he liked it. Knowing he was the one who could sneak past her armor of cool professionalism gave him a thrill he couldn’t resist.

“Of course you are,” She said, recovering quickly, mask back in place. She envied his helmet, hiding all of his reactions from her.

“Everyone knows you don’t date.”

“I do date. I just-“ She paused. “Who’s everyone?”

“The vode,” He said folding his arms.

“Oh,” Daria said, frowning slightly before realization dawned on her face. “I only told that ARC I don’t date because he was flirting with me during his interview.”

“It’s true though. If any of the boys saw you on a date, they’d be gossiping about it. They’re very concerned about you finding a nice person for yourself. Especially Thorn.”

“I didn’t realize my love life would be so interesting to them.”

“They feel like they owe you one. It’s why we show up so fast when you call,” Fox confessed.

“See? That’s why I do what I do. Guys that sweet deserve every chance at happiness,” She said with a bright smile. “Speaking of which, I’m still waiting for your match to come in. I made a promise to Thorn, and I’m going to keep it.”

“What promise?” Fox asked, tilting his head at her.

“To find someone to make you take your days off,” She replied. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes that time.

“He just wants me out of the office, so he and Hound can play fetch with Grizzer in the halls.”

“A promise is a promise, and I always keep those, so watch out,” She said with smirk.

“With the way you attract trouble, I’m always watching out for you, Trace,” he laughed softly, and Daria felt her face warming up. “If you’re feeling generous, do you think you could make a promise to me?”

“Within reason,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Give Neyo another shot?”

Daria quirked a brow at him. “I said within reason, Commander.”

“Look, you’re good at this. Scary good. I thought it sounded ridiculous at first, but Thorn, Hound, Cody, Wolffe,” he trailed off a moment before tugging off his helmet. “You worked magic with them. I’m just asking you to try one more time.”

“If you’re trying to play on my professional ego, it’s working,” she said, letting her eyes roam his face. “Fine, but only for you, and I swear if he gets sideways with me again…”

“He won’t. But if he does, I’m only one call away,” Fox assured her, his voice softer than velvet.

“Deal.”

tagging: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @sinfulsalutations @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @wolffegirlsunite and anyone else with a WIP to share 😌💙💙

#commander fox #tcw fox #tcw fox x oc #commander fox x oc #oc: daria trace #tcw matchmaking au #clone matchmaking au #wip wednesday #seven writes

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chicknstripz · 2 years ago

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∘₊✧ [[ Dust Motes ]] ✧₊∘

Pairing || Captain Fordo X OFC Word count || 2168 Warnings || Separation anxiety, Anger, Bitterness, One grumpy Alpha ARC, Thorn being a menace Overview || Fordo gets his first day on the beat, unfortunately it's anything but productive Chapters || [1][2]

Fordo watches yet another stylus disappear up Thorn’s vambrace, the secretive action drawing a sigh of agitation from the ARC.

“Why are we here again?”

Thorn tilts his head, the light of an off-yellow panel turning the red of his paint near orange.

“Surveillance of suspect citizens”

Suspect citizens? Has Thorn lost the entire plot? As far as he could see there was nothing suspect going on, unless you counted that amorous couple getting up to no good on the display bed. Kriff! Fordo is sure their shebs will be emblazoned in his mind until the end of time, the tick of his brow worsened by the woman’s laughter as a frazzled manager bans them for life.

“And that involves petty theft, how exactly?”

His companion appears unconcerned, his modulator catching the amused huff that escapes his lips. Of all the brothers he could have been paired with, it had to be Thorn! The commander’s complete lack of protocol rubbed him the wrong way, from the moment he’d met him this morning right up till now. Or maybe he was just in a bad mood? Whatever the case he wasn’t happy with this whole ‘wandering the department store’ looking for ‘suspect citizens’ thing, his thumb tucking into his belt as he watches his brother navigate yet another isle.

“Relax vod, they’re free to take.”

He bites back the sharp retort that’s sitting on his tongue, his eyes dropping to a couch that’s filled to the brim with cushions.

“How am I supposed to relax when I know the war’s heating up?”

Thorn, to his credit, doesn’t react to his unexpected outburst. He stares dead ahead as he walks, the set of his shoulders relaxed as he leads the way toward the back of the store. The space is fairly large, the cavernous ceiling bouncing both light and sound in a sickening way, and Fordo wonders what’s worse. Standing in the middle of this acoustic nightmare, or standing in no man’s land, the unease making him bristle as he brushes past a group of scowling teens.

“The front lines aren’t the only place where the war is heating up ....”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Thorn grips him by the shoulder before he can stride out of reach, and if Fordo hadn’t been so frustrated he’d have been impressed by the shorter soldier’s ability to keep him in place.

“I know what you meant!”

The grip loosens as Thorn realizes two things. One, that Fordo is much broader than he is around the torso, and two, his sturdy frame is packed with dense muscle. Which isn’t to say that Thorn would lose the fight if Fordo decided to start one, it’s just that he knows he’ll come out the worst for it if he does, his palms held outward in a soothing gesture.

“I’d be just as miserable as you if I was separated from the rest of my batch.”

They might have different genetics, might have been trained for different things, but if there was one thing they both understood it was the bond of brotherhood. Thorn keeps his body language loose and unthreatening, watching a group of civvies as they skirt past them. He doesn’t think any of them will cause problems, but you could never be too careful in this day and age.

“I can set up a frequency for you, make sure you and your brothers get a chance to talk --”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

The longer the range of the com, the higher the chance of it being intercepted by the CIS, and Fordo wasn’t about to risk the lives of his vode for the sake of idle chatter.

“But --”

Fordo stepped away before Thorn could press the issue further, the edge of his pauldron hitting a civilian as he did so. Kriff! He was built to be more aware than this, his special awareness honed to perfection by hours of training, and he’s not sure what’s worse. Being highly aware that he’s not performing to expected standards, or that he’s forgotten his manners - his voice tight as he crouches down to gather the items the civvie dropped.

“Kriff! Sorry! I --”

He trails off, caught completely unawares by the soft curves of the civilian. Fordo wasn’t an idiot, he knew what a woman looked like, but this was the first time he’d been this close to one. She was shorter than him, the crown of her head barely reaching his shoulder as he stood upright with an armful of plastoid mugs. The wave of her golden hair fascinated him, the shade both richer and warmer than the pale blonde of his brethren Rex. As did the way it framed her face, the soft bangs and wayward strands complimenting the line of her worried brows.

“I didn’t hurt you did I? For Kriff's sake, how can you possibly hurt him Sella. He’s wearing plastoid!”

Her rambling was, and he hated to admit it, kind of cute. The rise and fall of her inner-rim accent making his head spin as he blurted a correction to her statement.

“Duraplast ma’am”

She blinked in confusion, drawing attention to her bright green irises, and Fordo (once again) found himself fascinated by just how different she was to his vode.

“I didn’t know they issued that kind of rig to the guard?”

“My ori’vod is special, top of the range! Right vod?”

The familiarity in Thorn’s voice led Fordo to believe they knew one another, the sly slope of his brother’s brow all but confirming his suspicions as he shouldered his arm.

“Right.”

He tried to keep his tone neutral - he really did, but the sharp edge of discomfort creeped in despite his best efforts. It was one thing to know you were different from your vode, another to hear them proudly announce it to all and sundry. He shifts his weight as he examines Thorn’s armor out the corner of his eyes, noting the differences in weight and style as he did so. He wanted Thorn to be angry at him. Wanted him to be pissed that he’d been issued with better gear! But he wasn’t. He just gave him the same respect as anyone else, the tilt of his helmet as aggravating as it was assuring.

“So what are you up to? Beside the usual?”

“Can’t say ma’am, it’s classified!”

She gives Thorn a knowing look, her eyes briefly dropping to his vambrace.

“I see. Decorating Fox’s office again?”

Thorn makes a sound of mock hurt, one hand flying to the center of his cuirass/

“Who? Me?”

She shakes her head at his denial, her hair dancing about her shoulders as she retrieves her mugs from Fordo’s arms.

“Don’t let this idiot get into too much trouble, he only just got off ‘fresher duty.”

“How do you know him ma’am?”

Her laughter is like a bird song, the sound lifting his soul as she stacks the mugs along the curve of her arm.

“He’s one of our best slash worst customers”

“Am not!”

“Uh-huh, tell that to the senate. I run the café three floors down from the barracks, you should pop by some time.”

Fordo isn’t sure what to make of her wink, the motion causing a dimple to appear in her right cheek. Nor is he sure if he’ll take up her invitation. He’s got better things to do than hang out in a café doing -- well -- whatever civvies do in cafés.

“You too. It’s been awhile since we last saw you.”

“Sorry mesh’la. Things have been busy.”

Fordo isn’t sure why Thorn’s endearment rankles him. He’s heard plenty of his vode call a woman beautiful. Perhaps it’s just the setting? Yeah! That has to be it! He grits his teeth as she adds the final mug to her stack, the one handed grip impressing him as she takes a step back.

“Politicians giving you trouble again?”

“When don’t they?”

She laughs again, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she slips between them.

“I’ll make sure to add a token of my appreciation the next time they make an order.”

Fordo frowns as she takes her leave, the unsettled feeling morphing to a deep concern for her welfare.

“She’s going to get herself fired, or worse, arrested.”

Thorn appears less than concerned, the relaxed slope of his shoulders adding to Fordo’s list of things he hates about coruscant.

“Won’t be the first time.”

Fordo closed his eyes and counted to ten, the muscles in the back of his neck protesting as he replayed Thorn’s words.

“And let me guess, you bailed her out?”

“Of course we did! It’s better than dealing with Fox if he has to brew his own caff!”

He adds a further count of ten, but it does little to settle the churn in his gut. He’s used to troopers following the rules. Used to a certain sense of order, and this? This isn’t it. What's worse is that Thorn seems to think he’ll get used to it. The things he says? The way he looks at him. It all says ‘just give it time’, the sly smile that curls his lips making him feel adrift in a stormy sea. He tries to lean into it, tries to relax, but it feels all wrong and he suspects it always will - the chatter of the citizens adding to his disconnect.

“You’ll end up getting decommissioned if the long-necks find out.”

“As if they give a flying mynark what goes on in the inner core.”

He supposes that’s true, but he can’t help but feel like Thorn is punching a one-way ticket to whatever facility the Kaminoans sent defective clones to.

“You’ll be surprised what they can find out if they put their minds to it ...”

“What? You've been sent to spy on us vod?”

Fordo holds up his hands, offended by the very suggestion that he’d work for a Kaminoan.

“Kriff no! But I wouldn’t put it past them planting some mind washed souls amongst suspected dissidents.”

Fordo had met plenty of clones like that, and had despaired at how easy they found it to report their questioning vode to the kaminoans. He didn’t entirely blame them for it, especially when it earned praise and accolades from the Kaminoans, but he had kind of hoped there’d be more loyalty among brothers. He bit his lip as they slipped out the store and into the street, the neon lights giving the city a dystopian air that matched his mood. Something smells rotten, and it wasn’t just the Kaminoans adding to that particular stench - he could feel it!

“Wouldn’t put it past the chancellor either.”

“Now who’s asking for a decommissioning?”

“Just saying it how I see it, and I’ve certainly seen a lot in this year’s records. What? Don’t look at me like that. You might not be special ops but you’d still put the hours in if you found yourself transferred to a new post.”

Thorn’s face shifts, half knowing acceptance of Fordo’s observation, and half discomfort at his boss's reputation being questioned.

“He’s just doing the best he can ...”

“By shipping a Zillo beast to triple-zero? I know that politicians can be short sighted at times, but that? That takes the Uj.”

The two men drift into silence, each processing what the other had said as they walked along the street. Fordo can’t help but think of Sella, of how scared she must have been as the Zillo beast ran riot, of how she must have tried so hard to find shelter. Palpatine hadn’t cared about her, hadn’t given a single thought to what could happen if the beast escaped. Maker, what was he even doing with it in the first place? You didn’t just bring ‘invincible’ creatures to the most populous city in the galaxy without having a reason.

If he was paid for his opinion he’d say the chancellor and the Kaminoans were in cahoots, but he wasn’t being paid, and he hadn’t been asked - so he pushed the traitorous thought to the back of his mind.

“All I’m saying is that we should have eyes in the backs of our heads.”

“When they said you Alphas were paranoid they certainly meant it.”

Fordo took that as a compliment, but only because he’d taken being overly paranoid over being stone cold dead.

“Better to be paranoid then caught with your kute down. Talking of which, I might have a way to sniff out those pesky little terrorists.”

“Oh? Prey tell”

“Only once I’ve ironed out the specifics, my contacts are not always co-operative when it comes to sharing tech.”

He wasn’t looking forward to negotiating with Jaing, but he’d rather have the ability to map out the whole terrorist network in one go then do months of detective work. He closes his eyes, tilts back his head, and wonders if he should take Sella up on her offer because right now he could do with a mug of steaming hot caff.

#Captain Fordo x OC #captain fordo #an attempt at serious crack #making shit up about Fordo #clone headcanons #More stuff no one asked for!#fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars #fix it au

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demona-andariel · 2 years ago

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Tristan's Hawk - 2 / ??

Fandom: King Arthur (2004)

Pairing: Tristan x OFC

Summary: They were enemies, fated to kill each other. Yet a curse ends up binding her to him. Hawk by day, woman by night. She needs to find a way to break the curse and return home before he realizes just how much control he really has. Unfortunately, all too quickly, things become a lot more complicated when the heart is thrown into the mix.

Warnings: Nothing to bad. Possible eventual smut, undecided. I would say canon typical violence.

Word Count: 3,416

Chapter 2 - The Knight

It was drizzling. The pattering of the rain on the leaves seemed to be the only noise coming from the forest. The sudden shift in cool weather had sent most living things to seek shelter. For now at least. Meanwhile, on the road came the sounds of horses and people walking.

Tristan kept a sharp eye out, watching the forest. He was antsy. He had been since they started their journey in the morning. They were helping a small group of Roman soldiers escort some Woad prisoners to the Wall. It was a silly and an unnecessary task, in Tristan's opinion.

The Woads had always been a particular thorn in the Roman's side. Over the last couple of years they'd gotten bolder, their attacks more frequent. The Roman Empire's slow withdrawal from Britannia had not gone unnoticed. But Rome wasn't completely gone, and when her citizens called for help Arthur was obligated to assist them.

Tristan eyed the seven prisoners who walked in nearly straight line, their hands tied in front of them: Four men and three women. There was a time when all seven of them would have been made an example of to try and deter the Woads. Not that that had ever helped.

Most likely two if not three of the men would be killed. The seven had been part of a group that had attacked and stolen Roman supplies headed towards an important family further up north. Someone had to be punished.

Tristan scrutinized the group of prisoners. Woad attacks were not unusual. But it was unfortunate that their impatience of Rome's slow withdrawal from Britannia was causing them to lose more of their people. They were causing more damage to themselves than to the Romans. The Romans were starting to send their captives further south, further away from their home. Much to Arthur's frustration. He didn't like the idea of slaves. But, in some matters, his hands were tied.

Fortunately, that wasn't Tristan's problem. Britannia was soon going to be a footnote in his life. His day of freedom was drawing nearer and nearer. In fact, all the Sarmatian knights were about to be free. It was strange, actually thinking about freedom. It was an unspoken topic, a future that none of the Sarmatian knights expected to reach. Their numbers had slowly whittled away as the years passed. They mainly met their end in battle, although a few had died due to injury or sickness. It was death on the battlefield that Tristan expected to go. But now he and the remaining five knights commanded by Arthur were on the verge of being free.

He liked Arthur. He liked his fellow knights. He'd die for them if he had to. But, the moment he had his freedom papers in his hands he was going to leave them. Leave the island behind. Where he would go he was unsure. Home seemed like a nice idea, however, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to return.

Tristan's skin prickled and he focused his attention back to the forest. Distractions get you killed, he chastised himself. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. It had been a while since they were sent north of the Wall. Been a while since they'd done any real fighting. Just because they were a big group, didn't mean Woads would be smart enough to leave them alone.

He scanned the forest again. But there was no movement, no sign of life or that they were being watched. And yet, he felt it.

"Relax," Lancelot said as he pulled up alongside Tristan. "No one's about to attack us. We're too heavily armed."

Bors snorted. "Since when have the Woads been deterred by numbers?"

Tristan glanced at Lancelot, before returning his attention to their surroundings. He was the scout of their group. Always had been. But today, the Roman centurion who was in charge of the operation wanted the knights present and seen. He figured that the Woads wouldn't be so idiotic as to attack a large group of armed men, just to rescue seven prisoners. With twelve Roman soldiers and three Sarmatian knights, it would be a bloodbath to be sure. Tristan would have felt more comfortable if their whole group was present. But Arthur had to split them up, going with the other knights to a village further south that was having troubles of their own.

One of the Roman soldiers moved his horse closer to the prisoners, causing the two older women to press closer to the third. The Roman said something. Whatever it was only the women and his friend behind him seemed to hear as the women huddled closer and his friend behind him chuckled. The woman in the middle of the two glanced up at the Roman soldier. She didn't say anything.

Tristan frowned. He hadn't really examined the prisoners. There was no need. He wasn't going to get to know them. He was just there to help escort them to the Wall.

The woman in the middle looked away, focusing on the road in front of her. The Roman soldier said something else and laughed. Pulling the reins of his horse he bumped one of the women, nearly knocking her off balance.

"Felix! Enough."

"Yes, Centurion," Felix stated.

Curiosity got the better of him. Giving his horse a light kick, Tristan drew close enough to examine the prisoners. They didn't seem like warriors. The men were older and seemed a little too frail. In fact. Tristan schooled his face back to a more neutral look to not show his concern. Of the seven prisoners, six were roughly the same age, all far older than Tristan or any of the knights for that matter. It was the one woman who was different in age, far younger.

Tristan urged his horse closer to get a better look at her. One of the older females noticed him get closer and immediately moved to the youngest one as if to protect her from view. His insides started to burn with annoyance. She couldn't be more than eighteen years of age. Were the Woads so desperate they had started throwing their old and young at the Romans?

She slowly looked up at the sky, before shifting her gaze to him. She was angry. Not that he blamed her. She returned her focus to the road in front of her.

"Is everything alright?" Lancelot's voice was soft enough for only Tristan to hear.

Tristan nodded his head and pulled back on the reins of his horse. Arthur didn't need his help to state the obvious, but he'd still make sure to point her out. Something felt off.

Tristan flashed another glance at Lancelot, locking eyes with him before glancing at the Roman soldier named Felix who had his focus on the young woman. Lancelot didn't say a word or acknowledge what Tristan was trying to silently tell him.

The knight casually maneuvered his horse to the other side of the group and positioned himself by the two.

"Noticed it too," Bors grumbled softly. "Let's hope they don't try nothin' these next two days."

Tristan gave a slight nod. Two days was a long time. And their pace was slow. Although the Romans were all mounted, their prisoners were on foot. Unfortunately, for her, the knights could only do so much. They would do their best to make sure no harm came to her, but they were still bound to Rome. Which meant that if the Roman centurion told them to look the other way, they'd have to. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

A hawk cried out overhead. The young woman glanced up for a moment yet again, then back down. She turned her head slightly to one side and muttered something to the woman beside her.

The path narrowed as the forest closed in on them. Lancelot managed to position himself next to the young woman as the mounted Romans were forced into a closer, longer group. No longer able to ride two on each side.

Tristan's skin prickled again as his senses kicked into high alert. He didn't have time to shout out an alarm. An arrow flew out from the forest, hitting one of the Roman soldiers in the leg, making him scream. And then all hell broke loose.

A group of Woads came rushing out of the forest, screaming a battle cry as they ran towards the escort group. They had picked the perfect spot. The forest was closed in enough to make it difficult for the group to maneuver their horses into position. But it could prove to be deadly for the prisoners, stuck between heavy horses.

Tristan immediately started firing his arrows at their attackers. His mind went blank and his body cooled. No questions, no thinking, just attack and kill. His life and the lives of his friends were at stack. Bors let out a shout as he made his way towards Lancelot.

Two Romans screamed as they were dragged off their horses. Tristan turned his attention towards them. One was already dead before he hit the ground. The horses reared, causing more chaos.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the young woman as she made a mad dash towards the forest. Not his problem.

The Roman centurion's horse screamed as it reared up in surprise. A big black dog barked and lunged at the beast, successfully dodging its hooves as the centurion tried to get it under control. Two Woads took advantage of the man's distraction and brought him down.

Tristan shot one of them in the back. He cried out and the dog moved, locking eyes with him. Its hackles rose and lips curled revealing sharp canine teeth.

Sorry, pup, he thought as he nocked an arrow and let it loose. He rather liked animals. It wasn't their fault that they fought for their owners. The dog moved and his arrow missed. He nocked another, firing at the creature. It narrowly avoided the hooves of another horse as it dodged Tristan's arrow yet again.

Tristan nocked an arrow and waited for the right moment as the animal dodged through the melee, clearly aiming its sights on him. Tristan spotted an opening in the path the animal was taking to get to him. He drew back the string of his bow and took in a deep breath.

At the last second, the dog switched its direction and took off into the forest. Somehow, through the fighting, Tristan heard the faint screams of a woman. The female prisoner.

Not my problem.

Tristan spotted Bors and Lancelot. The two men were off their mounts and easily holding their own. Lancelot fought a young man while Bors was holding two other Woads off. Out of the corner of his eye, Tristan spotted two Woads flee back into the forest. As quickly as the fight started, it was drawing to a close. He quickly scanned the apparent dead. Felix fought next to the centurion, but his friend was nowhere in sight.

Not my problem.

Jumping off his horse, Tristan rushed into the forest. He was no savior. But he hated when the Romans were cruel to women and children. Besides, the forest was a dangerous place.

Tristan moved quickly but quietly in the direction he'd heard the scream. It didn't take him long to find her. She sat on her knees, part of her dress was ripped and on the ground, just a little bit in front of her was the Roman soldier. The black dog had its jaws on the man's neck as it growled and tugged at the body. The Roman's eyes were staring off into nothing.

Good pup, Tristan thought to himself. He started to take a step back then froze. His eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't a dog. It was a wolf.

The beast snarled, releasing the dead Roman's neck. It stared at the young woman and started to walk towards her. Its snout was covered in blood. It licked its lips, revealing bloody teeth. His thoughts that it was friendly towards her immediately evaporated. She was in trouble.

He nocked an arrow and drew the string back, taking a step forward. A twig snapped, causing the young woman to twirl.

"Rina!" she screamed.

A sharp pain hit his hand, forcing the arrow to fly but he completely missed his shot. The young woman had thrown a rock at him.

He gave her a surprised look, although he should have expected her to protect the beast. Didn't she see it was about to attack her? He realized his error a little too late. By taking his eyes off the wolf he barely had time to move as it lunged at him.

Its jaws managed to clamp onto his left arm and it swung its body, spinning him to the ground. He landed on his knees, inwardly crying out as pain shot up from his kneecaps.

The beast's jaws pressed harder onto his arm. The thick leather of his armor helped shield his skin from being punctured, but not from being bruised. It growled in frustration, shaking him furiously as he struggled to get free.

He landed a hard punch onto the beast's shoulder, making it cry out, but it let go of him. It recovered before he could, lunging at him yet again, dropping him onto his back. He barely managed to get his right hand under its neck. It clawed at him, its eyes and focus were on his neck to kill him. He was in a better position though. He grabbed the knife from his left boot and quickly stabbed the beast's right shoulder.

It let out an almost human-like cry but released him. He rolled onto his feet and reached to unsheathe his sword.

"Nola, run!" a woman commanded.

His fingers wrapped around the blade's handle and he started to pull. He froze. The cool steel of his knife pressed across his throat. This was it? He partially closed his eyes. It was his time apparently. He gave a silent prayer out to his gods, hoping they'd still accept him to whatever afterlife there was after all he'd done.

His attacker hesitated a second too long.

Tristan turned, grabbing their wrist at the same time, wincing slightly as the blade cut into his flesh. He clamped his hand on the woman's throat and slammed her onto the ground, twisting her arm, forcing her to drop the knife.

A woman? He clamped his hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming, partially straddling her. His knee pressed against her sternum.

"Silence," he commanded, while he prepared for another attack.

Where was it? He quickly searched around for the wolf, but it and the female prisoner were both gone. This new woman's hesitance to kill him would have cost her her life once.

She shouldn't have been able to. Where she got the strength from, he had no idea. But, she somehow managed to kick his legs out from under him, forcing him onto his back on the ground. Before he could react she quickly straddled him.

He froze. The tip of his knife pressed against his throat again as she leaned in. Any move and she'd kill him. Her right hand pushed against his chest. His right hand gripped onto his hidden knife. She'd die too though. And yet, she hesitated again.

"Don't," she growled as he prepared to make his next move. Blood covered her mouth. Most likely a statement. A means to make him fear her.

"Your hesitance will cost you your life," he stated. She had to know that, but still, she didn't kill him. He kept his eyes focused on her face. She wasn't wearing any clothes. It wasn't unusual to see naked Woads rushing at them in battle. But he hadn't seen a woman yet. She was young, maybe a couple of years older than the prisoner, but not by much.

Her face twitched into a frown as she examined him. Her eyes moved frantically. She wasn't going to do it. She wasn't going to kill him. He tensed his muscles, preparing to gain the upper hand again. She read him well, pressing his knife closer to his skin, nicking it.

"Don't," she whispered again. One wrong move and he'd cut his throat with his own knife. Lifting her right arm, she winced, but still reached out and brushed her fingers along his cheek.

Red caught his attention and he glanced at her arm for a moment. Blood trailed down it. She was wounded. But it wasn't a wound he'd given her. And he hadn't seen her with the attacking Woads. He would have definitely remembered.

"A life," she muttered. She quickly rolled off him.

He rolled onto his knees and away from her. He pulled out his sword, ready to fight.

"Next time, Roman," she snarled, keeping her body low, gripping his knife, prepared for an attack. Her long hair did its best to cover her up. "You will not be so lucky."

Did she not realize she was the lucky one? If she killed him, he would have killed her before his dying breath.

"Tristan!" Bors called out, distracting him.

He shouldn't have, normally he wouldn't have looked away from his enemy. But he did for a moment. That was all she needed. He looked back at where she'd been but she was gone. The rustling of leaves was all he heard. And then, not too far in the distance, he heard the wolf running away.

"Tristan? Tristan?!" Bors shouted as he drew closer. "Trist- Oy' didn't you hear me shouting your name back there?" he demanded the moment he spotted his fellow knight. "Ah. Umm… did ya?" He nodded toward the Roman soldier.

Tristan shook his head. "It was the dog," he stated. He looked away for a moment and frowned. A dog? A wolf. Why did he lie?

"Well, I don't see its body. Did ya kill it?"

"It ran off," Tristan said as he searched the ground for his knife. She'd apparently taken it with her. He let out a sigh. That was his favorite knife, too.

"I think you're getting soft on us," Bors teased. "Letting a dog go? Not quite like you."

Tristan didn't answer as the two walked back toward the group. Soft? He was getting soft. There was a time he would have easily killed the wolf and the woman. There was a time he didn't let his mind wander and distract him when his life was on the line.

He forced his thoughts and his mind to focus on the present. The Woads were gone for now, and most likely wouldn't return. However, he couldn't lower his guard. Not again. He would contemplate what had happened when he was safe back at the Wall.

His arm throbbed, causing him to pull up his sleeve to look at it. The wolf's teeth had left a shallow puncture wound. Nothing too bad. But his arm would be bruised for a few days. Not impossible to fight with though.

Walking out of the forest, Tristan surveyed the aftermath of the battle. He shook his head. Of the seven prisoners, only three had managed to escape. The young woman and two men. The other four had been killed as well as six of the attacking Woads. They lost more of their numbers than they gained. Foolish. But the Romans had lost as well. Six. He paused and glanced behind him. Seven. Seven of the twelve Roman soldiers were dead. Two seemed severe but not life-threatening injuries if they made it back to the Wall quickly. The rest of them were hurt but to a far lesser extent.

Two of the Roman soldiers were already picking up their dead comrades, moving them to one side while pushing the dead Woads out of the way.

"Tristan! Bors," Lancelot called out as he rode over to them. He had a cut on his cheek and blood dripped from his arm. "The centurion wants to see if we can find some of the horses that were scared off."

Tristan nodded as he mounted his horse. It would be easier to transport the bodies to a more secure location before cremating them. At least, with no more prisoners, their journey back to the Wall would be faster. Although, at the same time. Two soldiers were badly injured and that would slow down their progress.

Tristan glanced at the forest, bringing his guard back up. He felt like a fool. He had gotten sloppy, distracted. His attention was too focused on his upcoming freedom. A naked woman had gotten the upper hand and nearly ended his life.

He wasn't going to let that happen again

Yes, he thought to himself as he went off in search of the runaway horses. If we meet again, you will not be so lucky.

Chapter 3 - The Gifted

#king arthur 2004 #tristan x oc #king arthur 2004 fanfiction #fanfiction

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sleepingsun501 · 2 years ago

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Taglist and timezone reblog

@ariadnes-red-thread @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @wizardofrozz @moodymisty @ellichonkasaurusrex @ttzamara @nekotaetae @misogirl828 @wild-karrde @kaminocasey

Sweet True Lies: Chapter 3

Two Truths and a Lie

Paring(s): Fox x OC: Keeda Ionza (FINALLY!)

Characters: F!Reader/OC: Keeda Ionza, OC: June Makano, Commander Fox, Commander Thorn

Summary: Gala time!

Rating: This chapter is G (series is rated E)

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Romantic Fluff

Word Count: 7.2k

Ao3 link

A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 3! Sorry it took so long to write, but hopefully, it will all be worth it!

There is another new OC I'm bringing into this fic. Her name is June Makano. Check her out here!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

You gasped as you jerked yourself awake, looking around and briefly wondering where you were. You’re in your old room. Relax. You’re okay. you told yourself as you got your bearings.

An annoyed meow came from the black-striped lump of tan fur next to your feet as you reached over and grabbed the remote on your nightstand, reducing the dark opaque tint of your windows to let in the morning light. “Sorry, Chuffs,” you apologized to your mother’s lazy tooka cat.

You squeezed your eyes shut against the harsh light bouncing off Coruscant's surface, and nestled yourself back into your cloudy pillows, not quite ready to leave the warmth of your large bed. Chuffs stood up briefly and stretched languidly as the light reached her, giving you a curious look before settling back down in her warm spot with a purr.

Scrunching your fingers through your tangled hair as you took in the morning, your thoughts wandered back to the dream you had been having. It had not been unpleasant—quite the opposite: Someone’s strong arms had pulled you close with whispers of reassurance and safety, enveloping you with so much warmth you could have melted into them.

You mused over it for a moment, twisting a bit to look at your upper arm and wondering why you had such a comforting dream after such a tumultuous night. As you prodded the bruise-free skin to check for any residual soreness, you figured a nightmare would have been more fitting, but none had come.

“Good morning, Mistress Keeda,” N2’s soft, high-pitched, mechanical voice said as he entered your room. He was holding a breakfast tray laden with what looked like muffins, scrambled nuna eggs, sliced shuura fruit, and your favorite tea.

You stretched and yawned before sitting up, realizing absently that you had slept a lot further into the morning than you normally did. “Morning, N2. What’s all this?” you asked, untangling yourself from your blankets and trying not to disturb Chuffs a second time.

“Oh, Mistress Sareel was insistent that you have something to eat before you leave,” N2 replied.

You rubbed your eyes groggily as N2 set the meal down on the bed beside you. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you smelled the fresh, berry-laden muffins and fluffy eggs, remembering how little you had eaten the night before.

Sipping your steaming tea and nibbling a muffin, you pulled your datapad into your lap and skimmed the news as you did every morning. Articles of the army’s latest victories and defeats rerouting trade and travel hyperspace lanes littered your screen, but you found your mind wandering back to your dream. It was fading quickly as you fully woke, but the sense of security of those imaginary arms around you had greatly lessened your anxiety.

“Is there anything you require before I begin the household chores, Mistress Keeda?” N2 asked, carrying your hamper from your bathroom.

“No, thank you, N2. You have done plenty for me already,” you replied, giving the droid a smile. You knew N2 could not actually feel emotions—he was simply programmed to respond—but you had always been polite to him.

As you began eating your breakfast, you sent a quick text comm to June, telling her you would be stopping by to check on the flowers, and you also took the opportunity to recount the details of your previous evening to her. You knew she was working, and therefore could not call you, but you received several long replies full of enraged expletives and exclamations anyway. June had always been hotheaded, but she would have blown off a lot of that steam by the time you arrived if you did not rush.

You took your time in eating and dressing, savoring the morning for once, and sinking back into your thoughts. Nothing about the war had slowed down the charity foundation’s work, but it had physically condensed it to Core Worlds as new battle maps were drawn every day in the Mid and Outer Rims. The charity had also been forced to cut its ties with Separatist worlds, though you knew some of the outposts on those worlds had continued to function without proper funds, manned now only by the very people they had been constructed to help.

With the organization now officially partnering with the GAR, however, the work could continue on Loyalist worlds outside of the Core. You had already received the information about the battalion you would be attached to for the foreseeable future, and you sincerely hoped the clones would accept working with you. Deep down, you had been a little worried they would always see you as an outsider.

An hour later found you stepping out of a taxi and onto a wide, sunny pedestrian walkway. The air was still chilly, but the sun managed to take the bite of the wind away. A long, tall greenhouse stretched down the length of the block before you, made entirely of glass walls and windows—just one of ten identical buildings laid out parallel to each other. A much smaller, older structure sat at the end of the first building, with a glowing sign projected onto the ancient-looking brick that read ‘Makano Greenhouses,’ and you made your way to the door.

The air inside the main shop was warm and damp, and it was like stepping into an entirely different world. The fresh scents of thousands of varieties of flowers, vegetables, fruits, and shrubbery the Makano family had grown for nearly two centuries in their greenhouses all wafted to greet you, spiriting you away from the ecological barrenness of Coruscant. You suspected the shuura fruit you had eaten for breakfast had come from these greenhouses.

Inhaling the perfumy fragrances deeply, you pressed the service button on the front desk, taking the time to admire all the glittering vases, fruit baskets, and pre-arranged flower displays already up for sale.

“Be there in a second, Keeds,” a light feminine voice said, echoing through a speaker. True to her word, a few moments later, a curvy young woman with bright ginger hair and equally bright hazel eyes came jogging in through the shop’s back door. “Fucking hell, girl,” she greeted in typical June fashion, wiping her hands on a rag and pulling you into a tight hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack this morning with your message. How’re you holding up?”

“Hi, June,” you replied. You hugged her back, glad to see her initial, explosive temper had cooled already. “I’m coping, could’ve been worse,” you added dismissively. The residual anxiety must have still been shining through your expression because June cocked a disbelieving, fiery eyebrow at you.

June Makano was the latest generational owner of her family’s greenhouses and your best friend from your time at university. Although the greenhouses were an incredibly lucrative business over the centuries—being one of the last few remaining places on-world providing food and décor to Coruscant’s upper classes—the Makano family had used them as a cover for less legitimate business for just as long.

Despite your knowledge of this, June had become like a sister to you over the years. It still baffled you to no end how she was always able to know exactly how you felt, reading you like an open book. The way she pursed her lips at you was another classic indicator that she knew you were still not all right, so you huffed out a tired breath and rested against the counter, ignoring it.

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” June said quietly, “but you know I’m here if you need to.” She rubbed your arm affectionately, and the gesture warmed you. “You know I can still get Naiyo to deal with him, too, right?”

You chuckled dryly and rolled your eyes. “No, thanks. I don’t want your rum-running twin brother and his gangsters getting themselves into any trouble on my account.”

“The offer stands,” June said in a singsong voice, effectively dropping the subject. “Now, come on, let me show you the flowers for tomorrow.”

June led you through the back door and past the greenhouses to an enormous workshop. It looked equally as ancient as the main shop with all its exposed brick and dark steel rafters. Specialized droids hovered about, arranging several varieties of colorful flowers into garlands, bouquets, and centerpieces for the gala. You recognized some of the larger flower varieties, but there were also tiny, shining white blossoms on wiry vines mixed into the bouquets that were unfamiliar.

“Let your mum know the arrangements will be delivered this afternoon, and I’ll be there personally tonight to make sure they’re set up properly,” June said, taking a bundle of the blossoms and handing them to you. “These would look really pretty in your hair tomorrow.”

The little flowers gave off a delicate, but musky sweet scent, unlike anything you had smelled before. “What are these?” you asked curiously. They were surprisingly resilient, despite being so small.

“They’re a variety of peace blossoms from Naboo,” June explained, lifting the end of a garland into a transport crate. “Your mum asked for those particularly, so I had to use the hydroponic systems and pure light to get them to grow faster. She said it was to represent a quick end to the war with the help of all the relief volunteers.”

“Trust my mum to weave poetic symbolism into everything,” you mumbled, tilting the little flowers in your palm. Their sheen reflected a faint bluish-green hue beneath the milky petals. You heard June pause her work, and from her tone, you could tell she was worried. “You still don’t think I should have volunteered?”

June sighed and shook her shoulder-length orange hair out of its clip to readjust it. “I just don’t want you to get hurt or anything. Just because you’re only going on relief missions doesn’t mean it’s safe, Keeds. You could be attacked at any time.”

“You sound like my mum,” you muttered sardonically. You knew June meant well, but even she knew you had been screaming internally for months from being cooped up on Coruscant. “I’ll be with the troops the whole time. They’ll keep any droids out of my way, and I’m a decent shot myself,” you smirked.

June gave you a reproachful look, but she clipped her hair back up and shrugged. “Just… be careful. You’re my best friend.”

“I know, but you know exactly how badly I need to get off this kriffing planet. I need some fresh air, quite literally a different atmosphere. It’s beautiful here, in its own way, and it’ll always be home, but I need some change.” You stepped a bit closer and lowered your voice a notch, shaking your head, “And you were right before, June. I’m not entirely fine, especially after last night. Getting away right now is the best thing I can do.”

You could tell June was holding back her tears from the way she looked around rapidly and started chewing on her plump, pink bottom lip, so you pulled her into a more solid hug this time, aware that this may be the last chance you got before you shipped out after the gala. “I promise, I’ll be fine. When I get back, I’ll tell you all about it over caf at that greasy little diner you like so much.”

June chuckled, letting a tear escape as she embraced you tightly. “Hey, don’t shit on Dex’s. He’s got the best nerfburgers ever, just admit it.”

You parted afterward with a smile and a quick goodbye, leaving the greenhouses with the peace blossoms in hand. As you glanced down at them, you realized your nails could do with a manicure. Begrudgingly, you knew you needed to polish yourself up. Time to turn into a lady.

***

Tucking his towel around his hips, Fox wiped the steam from his mirror and pulled his razor out from his refresher cabinet. Two of the few benefits of being a Marshal Commander permanently stationed on Triple Zero were private quarters and access to hot water showers. It hardly made up for the multitudes of other issues he dealt with on a daily basis, but it was far better than the communal sonic showers his millions of brothers were forced to use in the field and on starships.

He wished he did not have to shave so soon, rather liking the way his slightly greying stubble always set him apart from his brothers, but he had no choice. He had to be as presentable as possible for the gala in a few hours, and he mentally cursed whichever senator had taken Thire from his post.

Fox resented the way many senators seemed to think the Corries were their personal bodyguards instead of elite clone shock troopers. The boys were constantly called upon, day and night, to escort senators and other public officials to wherever they wanted to go, regardless of the security details they were already provided. Even their underpaid aides were not called upon as often as the Corries were for menial tasks—the moment a senator needed to travel off-world or needed a kriffing lightbulb changed, they rang a Guardsman.

Pushing his dripping curls away from his face, Fox slathered his cheeks and jaw in shaving cream and began methodically scraping away his stubble, careful not to nick himself. He had finally managed to get a few hours of solid sleep after a brutally exhausting workout, and he had taken Thorn’s advice about dabbing some bacta under his eyes. He somehow looked a bit younger as his skin became smooth, and it reminded him of how young he technically was. Physically, he was only about twenty-five now, even if he felt like he was nearly a hundred most days.

Fox carefully eased a clean undershirt over his head, careful not to muss his freshly faded curls that he had slicked back into smooth waves. The ever-present greys in his once jet-black hair had ceased to bother him, especially because they seemed to be a date magnet on the incredibly rare occasions he took to venture out to 79s with his brothers.

He smiled to himself as he pulled on his dress greys, fondly remembering the night Cody and Wolffe had dragged him to the bar with every intention of getting him laid. They had no idea their youngest brother had spent the past year carefully observing the very politicians he loathed, watching their formal, charming interactions and quietly putting them into practice. He had a date within twenty minutes that night, and Cody and Wolffe’s jaws had been on the deck.

Part of his charm, he had learned, came with his expression of intention. Fox had never once led anyone on, making sure an unattached night was all a lady was to expect from him. It was not that he wanted to sleep around or that he did not have feelings, but he knew he had no time for a committed relationship—even if it never stopped him from wondering how nice one would be.

Fox rolled his muscular shoulders in the stiff, heavy fabric of his dress uniform and checked his appearance over one last time. Just another big fancy dinner. he thought to himself, tucking his cover under his arm and echoing Thorn’s words from a few days prior.

***

“You’re fidgeting,” your mother whispered concernedly as you exited the speeder after her.

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek as you looked around. The poshly dressed guests were arriving in droves, greeting each other with both genuine and faux smiles, la bise kisses, and graceful bows. As the gala’s unofficial host, you started to feel the pressure as eyes were beginning to turn toward you. The sickening clench of your stomach was hard to ignore as you slapped a practiced smile on your face. Silently, you resigned yourself to participating in high-class society, and you were sure the gooseflesh breaking out over your skin had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

“Just nerves,” you muttered, shivering slightly, and smoothing out your flowing dark green dress. You were glad you had chosen something with a loose skirt that you could both walk and breathe in as the latter felt rather difficult. Beneath your long hair, you felt your mother’s silk-gloved hand subtly adjust one of the X-crossed straps on your backless gown for you before looping your arm in hers.

“You’ve nothing to worry about tonight, darling. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself,” she said soothingly, ushering you inside and out of the chilly air.

As you made your way closer to the grand doors of the hall, you spied a few clones in their distinct red and white armor cleverly stationed in the shadows, and your nerves calmed a bit. Whereas many of Coruscant’s citizens had come to loathe the ever-present shock troopers, you found their presence to be a comfort, more so now than ever before. You wondered if the commander was among them, but before you could dwell on the thought, your mother was pulling you into the venue.

Her hand soothed along your bare forearm as you made your way into the dazzling hall, and the sight took your breath away. The hall was massive, and the cavernous, arching glass ceiling reflected thousands of fairy lights woven into the garlands and wreaths June had no doubt spent hours setting up.

The air was fragrant from the same little peace blossoms that were nestled in your fashionably twisted hair, and as the only source of light apart from delicate flickering candles on the dining tables, the tiny, softly twinkling lights created a calm ambiance that seemed to warm even the darkest corners of the hall. While you looked around, you noticed a familiar, friendly face illuminated by the glow.

“Oh, my dear, Keeda,” Henya greeted compassionately, coming around a large, ornately set dining table, and taking you into her arms.

You grinned happily for the first time that evening as the tall Twi’lek woman embraced you, and the soft fur of her shawl tickled your nose. “Hello, Auntie,” you replied.

“You look divine tonight. That dress does wonders for your eyes,” she complimented, but Henya’s striking yellow eyes held a trace of guilt as she pulled away. “May I steal her for a moment, Sareel?” she asked, turning to your mother.

“Of course, of course. I will find you later, Keeda,” your mother replied, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

As your mother began graciously receiving the other guests, Henya took your hands in both of hers, and you could practically feel the emotion rippling off her. Even her long violet lekku were twitching restlessly as she searched for her words.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Auntie,” you said before she could speak. “What happened the other night, that’s not your fault.”

Henya sighed heavily, “I am still terribly sorry, my dear. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.” She paused for a moment, looking around before her eyes settled on a rather severe-looking couple taking flutes of dark blue, bubbling wine from a passing server. “I’m even more sorry to say that they would like to speak with you before the evening’s festivities begin.”

The pit in your stomach immediately gave way to a dull numbness that flooded through your limbs. The governor and his wife had come after all, but you were thankful there seemed to be no sign of their son. You breathed deeply, unlocked your knees, and felt your head clear. Might as well get this unpleasantry out of the way.

Striding forward with purpose, your father’s voice whispered in the back of your mind; Opportunity lies in even the most unlikely places. When he had spoken those words to you so long ago, you had not fully understood their meaning. But now, as Henya led you across the room, your sharp mind understood that the governor was about to ask something of you.

“Governor and Missus Gargeli, may I present Miss Keeda Ionza,” Henya said diplomatically.

While Governor Gargeli might have looked unyielding on the outside, his blue eyes were benevolent. His son had clearly inherited his looks from his father, but you refused to let it unnerve you.

“Miss Ionza, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said authentically as he extended his hand to you.

“The pleasure is mine, Governor.” You shook his hand firmly, conveying your directness.

“It is an esteemed honor to be invited this evening,” he remarked, releasing you to allow you to shake hands with his wife. “Although, I do wish the circumstances of our meeting would have been less precarious,” Gargeli added softly and opened his arm to you. “May I?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you were passed to yet another arm. Did people think you were unable to walk on your own? Despite being on his arm, you steered the governor to a quieter corner of the hall. You waited until you were sure the sharp click of your heels on the tiles was no longer audible to the other guests before pausing beside one of the massive bouquets that matched your hair.

The governor, for all his formal appearance, looked ashamed. “I want you to know that my wife and I do not condone our son’s actions,” Gargeli whispered gravely. “Pettri was brought up to be better than that, and I sincerely apologize for any harm that has befallen you.”

Pettri Gargeli. you finally remembered. That was that fucker’s name.

The governor’s Coruscanti accent was much thicker than your own, and you had to strain a bit to hear him over the growing hum of the other guests and the gentle classical music that was beginning to play. He had your full attention as he continued, “I also wanted to inform you personally that Pettri is no longer living on Coruscant, and he will not be returning. I’ve sent him back to my family’s homeworld, and he will be dealt with in a manner befitting his actions.”

You hid your relief well, only shifting your weight from one hip to the other as you took in the revelation, still surveying the incoming guests nonchalantly. You had been silently dreading seeing Pettri again, even in passing, and the weight of that fear dissipated from your shoulders. “I am grateful for the measures you have taken in resolving the situation, Governor.”

Gargeli tapped a finger on his glass rather anxiously as he scanned the room blankly. “I’m afraid I do have another motive for speaking to you privately this evening, Miss Ionza,” he confessed. He swiftly acquired another flute of bubbling blue wine from a passing attendant and handed it to you as a gesture.

Here we go. you thought, accepting the drink to let him know you were listening, and bracing yourself for his request. You already had an inkling of what it was.

“As you may know, the local elections in my district are not far off.” He paused to clear his throat to emphasize the point he was about to make. “If… rumor was to spread, a scandal such as this involving a member of my immediate family would potentially—”

“—Potentially negatively impact your reelection,” you interrupted gracefully, finally meeting the governor’s eyes again. Although the smile you wore was practiced and demure, your green eyes conveyed your perceptivity. “And if I were to guarantee my silence on the matter, perhaps our agreement could be mutually beneficial.”

An intrigued look crossed Gargeli’s aristocratic face, his thick mustache twitching up in interest. “Name your terms, Miss Ionza.”

Taking a long sip from your glass, you glanced back out across the room trying to look as casual as possible. “The Terreg Ionza Medical Foundation could do more work in your district if you would consider opening more public spaces to our volunteers and providing security,” you said lowly, your throat tightening a fraction as your father’s name passed your lips. “In the past, our volunteers have encountered significant resistance in underprivileged areas, largely due to threats of local gang violence. Not only would it guarantee my silence, but it would also benefit your constituents.”

The governor nodded pensively. “I assure you my campaign already supports the increased street surveillance in my district. I see the Coruscant Guard are here tonight,” he added as he skimmed over the room. “They have been immensely helpful in training new security forces, so any volunteers would be well protected. Perhaps my wife and I will become more regular contributors to the Foundation as well, to ensure their success.”

A wave of triumph surged through your heart as you raised your wine flute in a small toast. Despite how much you hated playing politics, you were rather reluctantly good at it. “To the mutually beneficial work of our organizations.”

“Hear, hear,” Gargeli replied, a formal smile full of admiration and respect for you working its way onto his face.

With a clink of your glasses, the deal was sealed. Gargeli would open his district more fully to the charity’s work, thousands of citizens would benefit from increased medical aid, and the charity would receive yet another new source of funds. All paid for with your silence.

“Please, Governor, enjoy the evening,” you said with a gentle, sweeping motion, effectively excusing yourself.

Gargeli gave you a refined bow before returning to his wife’s side, and you began mingling your way through the crowd. Several people whom you had worked with in the past stopped to chat with you, each offering their views on the latest cooperations with the GAR. Some approved, some did not, and some expressed their admiration for your willingness to volunteer, but each conversation seemed to draw on your energy reserves.

Even after dinner had been served—you were eternally grateful your mother had not chosen that awful seafood dish to be an option—and the dancing had begun, you were finding the evening to be rather tedious. You did your best to conceal it; however, there was only so much you could take.

Over the sounds of clinking glasses and light laughter filling the air, blending with the lilting music now echoing across the hall, you huffed out a weary sigh. You wished you had someone other than politicians and socialites to converse with—just someone who did not want anything from you. From the moment you stepped out of the speeder, tonight had felt more like work than the enjoyable evening you hoped for.

***

Fox froze and his heart stuttered against his ribs.

He knew from the moment he saw her; it was her. His eyes followed her every move as she wove between people, conversing briefly before moving on. They all parted for her, as though she were a goddess among mortals—even more beautiful than he remembered.

“The hell are you looking at, vod?” Thorn asked, noting Fox’s sudden change. His older brother’s heavy brows were nearly knit together, and his scarred lips were parted in an awestruck expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Blinking out of his stupor, Fox nodded in the young woman’s direction. “She’s here,” he whispered, almost disbelieving his own words.

Thorn studied the crowd from their secluded spot by the doorway to a large, covered veranda, trying to follow Fox’s eye line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“From th-the other night. She’s… uh… Long, dark hair, with little flowers. Green dress. It’s her,” Fox stammered.

His golden-haired brother looked back out to the crowd a second time, spotting her easily. “Oh, wow,” Thorn breathed. He knew Fox had not lied about her appearance a few days prior, but seeing her for himself, Thorn finally understood why Fox had been so taken with her. He snickered to himself because the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard was currently staring like a love-struck shiny after their first night at 79s. “That’s really her?”

Fox just nodded. He could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her again for a moment so she could breathe.

“Well, go talk to her, di’kut!” Thorn laughed, nudging his ori’vod with a sharp elbow. “She looks like she could use better company than these nat-borns.” Fox opened his mouth to protest, but Thorn stopped him. “Go. You’d be shocked to know the boys and I can actually survive without your constant vigilance for a while.”

Seeing her step out another door on the opposite side of the hall and onto the wrap-around veranda, Fox nearly sprinted out the door beside him—no thanks to a playful swat on the ass from Thorn. It felt like his heart was about to jump through his nose as he quickly strode to where she had withdrawn.

Okay… okay… What am I gonna say to her? he rambled internally. Just ask her how she is, yeah? Ask her if she’s all right. No, why would she be all right? It’s only been a few days since… No, no, just tell her… tell her she looks nice. She’d like to hear that. Right? Fuck. Fuck, I did not think this through! Nevertheless, his feet propelled him forward.

Fox had never had any issues talking to women before, so why was he so unexpectedly flustered now? He paused and pressed his back against the cool alabaster wall just before turning the final corner of the building. He straightened his spotless uniform and blew out a long sigh, puffing his cheeks. Pull yourself together, Fox. You’re a kriffing Marshal Commander. You can do this.

***

The muffled silence was a welcome relief as you stepped out of the hall and rested your hands against the sleek railing. The crowds had begun gathering around to watch those waltzing about on the dance floor, and the stronger liquor had begun flowing as a medley of desserts was served, but you had come outside to let Coruscant’s skyline dazzle you for the thousandth time instead.

Letting your eyes drift shut, you tried to savor the quiet moment, and soaked up the soft warmth radiating from the outdoor heater beside you. You could still see the twinkling fairy lights all around you from behind your eyelids, and you watched as they played across your blinded vision. If you had a chaise and a blanket, you would have been content to stay right there until the sun rose.

Tomorrow, there would be no skyline. There would only be the swirling blue and silver streaks of hyperspace, whisking you off to a war-torn world to deliver medical relief supplies, and you were eager for it. Like you had told June, Coruscant would always be home, but you needed to get away for a while.

Your moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps that ceased a few yards behind you and to your left. You half expected to find yet another aristocrat asking you to dance when you opened your eyes, but you were shocked to your very core when you looked over your shoulder.

Him. It was him. The clone commander that had come to your aid.

You felt your eyes widen in surprise as he looked at you. He was clean-shaven now, and his tussled, greying curls had been elegantly styled back, but his honey-gold eyes still glimmered in the lights with the same care and warmth he had shown you just a few nights ago.

“You,” you breathed without thinking. Immediately, you cursed your impropriety and stumbled over your words. “I’m s-sorry. I-I meant—”

The commander cracked a roguish, bright smile, and his mouth pulled a touch more to the right because of the scar on his bottom lip. “It’s you,” he echoed softly, stepping closer. His voice was low and gravelly, and his eyes never left yours. “You look lovely tonight.”

He was trying to put you at ease, and you could not help the little grin that broke over your painted lips. “Thank you,” you replied, and you were powerless to stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “Truthfully, I’d rather be elsewhere, though.”

“Really?” he asked, tossing his gaze back into the hall for a moment. “Even with all these fine, upstanding people here?” There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice, and you instantly relaxed despite the sudden draft blowing across the veranda.

The commander came to stand beside you, blocking the breeze and looking out over the planet-wide city. Even while leaning down on the railing and without his signature armor, he was still so very tall and broad. His hard muscles filled out his uniform, pulling at the fabric and defining him perfectly. It made you wonder just how strong he was…

“Are you cold?” he asked thoughtfully.

You shook your head faintly as you were pulled out of your thoughts. You felt wholly safe beside him, as though he were an immovable wall protecting you from the chill in the air and from the prying eyes of anyone who dared to look at you the wrong way—just as he did before.

That inkling of guilt suddenly came crawling back. The last time you had seen this man, you had spoken so harshly to him, and you had feared you would never get the chance to apologize. “Commander, I… I never thanked you properly… for the other night,” you said rather sheepishly.

He gave you a slightly puzzled look and shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes immediately coming to rest on your face again. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Yes, there is,” you insisted, gripping the railing. “You and your men helped me. Something much worse might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there, and I shouldn’t have been so coarse.”

“You had every right to be,” he assured. “I’m glad I was there to help you.”

You toyed with a silver ring on your index finger as you carried on, “In any case, it’s no excuse for my behavior. I hope you’ll accept my apology, Commander.”

He turned to face you fully, leaning casually on one elbow and eyeing you charmingly. “I will, on one condition.”

How can he still look so powerful when he’s relaxed like that? you asked yourself, waiting for his request. He had somehow changed the very air around you so quickly that you found yourself letting go of the ache in your chest.

“Tell me your name?”

Whatever he was doing to make you feel so calm was mesmerizing, but you could also tell he was being playful, so you decided to entertain him. You pursed your lips and gave him a cheeky grin. “All right then. Let’s see if you can tell if I’m lying or telling the truth. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

“Two truths and a lie?” he asked inquisitively.

You nodded, fidgeting with your ring again. “I’ll tell you three things about myself. If you guess the lie, I have to tell you the truth about the lie. If you guess wrong, it’s your turn.”

The commander cocked a brow at you and smirked. “Very well, ladies first.”

You chewed your lip for a moment in thought, before settling on your lie. “My mother is the chairwoman of the foundation hosting this gala. I had a pet tooka when I was a child. My name… is Alana. Which is the lie?”

The weight of the commander’s gaze was encapsulating. You felt drawn into the depths of those stunning eyes as he analyzed you. He left no inch of your face untouched with his gaze. “Your name isn’t Alana,” he said finally.

“You’re right,” you conceded with a giggle. “My name is Keeda.”

The commander did not say anything for a moment, but his expression noticeably softened. You were not sure he was going to say anything until he muttered a single strange word, one you suspected was not Basic.

“Sorry?” you asked.

“Mesh’la,” he repeated, a little louder the second time. “It’s Mando’a. It means ‘beautiful’.”

You were certain you were bright red with how hard you were blushing. His lips barely moved whenever he spoke, unlike so many others tonight that had tried to woo your attention with overly enunciated accents and pretty words. The true sincerity in his tone rang clear. His voice was so rich, like a lovely bass-baritone note—deep and smooth, matching the darkened gold of his irises. You could practically feel the resonance of it in your ears despite how softly his words were uttered, and you suddenly craved to hear it again.

“Y-your turn, Commander.”

He must have had his answers ready because he spoke without hesitation. “My favorite color is red. My name is Fox. I’m a particularly good dancer.”

You mulled that over. Would he lie about his name, too? you wondered. It seemed logical, but he could also have been trying to throw you off. He had never looked you in the eye at all, though, choosing to focus on the little flowers woven through your hair—undoubtedly the better liar between you.

Laughing lightly as you gave up trying to guess, you settled on his name. “I don’t think your name is Fox.”

He flashed that brilliant white smile again. It contrasted so beautifully against his bronzed skin, and for the first time, you realized that you were more dazzled by the handsome commander in front of you than the skyline you had come out to observe. His smile and eyes were even brighter than any of the lights twinkling around you, and he exuded an affection that quieted any troubles in your mind.

“My name is Fox,” he said truthfully.

“Fox,” you repeated, bowing your head in mock defeat. “You’ve bested me. Where’d you learn to lie so well?”

“You pick up a thing or two when you’re around politicians all—”

As if on cue, he was interrupted as a group of guests came out onto the veranda, laughing boisterously and talking amongst themselves. They were clearly trying to ward off the buzz they had going with the cool night air. Luckily, they wandered away to the other side of the hall, but the door they had opened let a new melody waft outside.

It was a slower tune, but just as grand and orchestral as the others that had been playing all evening. You swayed your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the skirt of your dress flutter around your legs.

It had been so long since you danced. Your thoughts wandered back to the last time your father had helped you push all the furniture out of the way and taught you the steps of several common waltzes in the middle of your living room.

“Dance with me?” Fox asked suddenly, holding out his hand to you.

When did he take his gloves off? “Another truth?” you asked, resting your hand in his palm. His hand was calloused and strong, but his fingers were long and warm as they closed around yours ever so tenderly.

The crowd had thinned a bit for the evening, and you suspected this would be one of the last dances of the night, but you were glad to share it with Fox. You gasped a little when you felt his other hand settle around your lower back beneath your hair. His fingertips felt like fire brushing against your air-cooled bare skin, but you settled into his hold easily as he began guiding you down the length of the veranda. The steps he chose were uncomplicated, but you were impressed with the natural skill he seemed to possess as he swept you down the length of the open space.

“You were definitely telling the truth,” you laughed, enjoying how easily you moved together.

He arched his left arm and twirled you out beneath it before stepping in and sweeping you back into his hold. “I have my brother to thank for that,” Fox admitted, slowing a fraction with the timing of the music.

“Don’t you have a million brothers?” you asked lightheartedly. Fox looked so different from the stoic commander you had first met. A single stray curl had fallen loose on his forehead as he spun you around himself, and he practically beamed at you.

“This one is special. He inherited all the natural dancing talent somehow, so we just copied him. He’s the commander of the 104th battalion.”

You nearly stumbled in surprise, gripping Fox’s burly shoulder for support, but he was quicker and caught you. He gathered you into a spin to let you recover, bringing your body flush to his. The rush of adrenaline you felt as Fox effortlessly lifted you right off your feet made everything a little fuzzy, but he kept you securely in his strong arms. You felt like a star could have exploded between you with the heat of your bodies pressed together, and you would have happily melted into it.

After gently resting you back on your feet, Fox was the first to break the contact—although he seemed incredibly reluctant to do so. But the music still played in the background, so he continued to lead you through the dance.

“I’m assigned to the 104th as their official volunteer,” you said quickly, remembering why you had stumbled in the first place.

Fox chuckled. “You’ll like Wolffe. We grew up together as batchmates. He’s very stubborn and gruff, but he has a good heart.”

“I look forward to meeting him.”

As the music ended, the hall burst into applause. The other dancers and guests began to say their goodbyes, but you simply stood there under the twinkling lights. You panted together from the exertion of the dance as he continued to hold you, and you drank in the woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him mixed with the fragrance of the flowers in your hair.

He was gently brushing the back of your hand with his calloused thumb, and you were about to thank him for the dance, but the commlink on his wrist beeped. Still holding your hand, he released your waist and turned his right wrist over to silence the beeping.

“Ah, forgive me. Duty calls.”

As his fingers brushed over the device, you noticed the knuckles on his right hand were slightly blotched with old bruises, but you put it aside in your mind. “I… I hope I’ll see you again, Fox.”

He grinned down at you and gave your fingers a delicate squeeze. “Me too. Be safe, Keeda. Do whatever Wolffe tells you to do.”

You felt a pang of longing as he released you and turned to join the other Guardsmen waiting in the shadows at the other end of the veranda. How long have they been standing there?

Suddenly, you remembered and called out to him, “Wait, Fox!” He was immediately before you again with a questioning look on his face. “Please, before you go… what’s your favorite color?”

Although he virtually towered over you, Fox took your hand again and bowed slightly, capturing your gaze once more. His lips were warm as he pressed an impossibly soft kiss against the thin skin of your knuckles, and a mixture of shock and delight flooded through your body. Smiling brilliantly at you one last time, he replied, “Green.”

Taglist: @ariadnes-red-thread @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @wizardofrozz @moodymisty @ellichonkasaurusrex @ttzamara @nekotaetae @misogirl828 @wild-karrde @kaminocasey

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#wip sweet true lies #commander fox #marshal commander fox #commander caf #commander thorn #oc: keeda ionza #oc: june makano #commander fox x female reader #commander fox x ofc #commander fox x you

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ladykatakuri · 2 years ago

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Stardust Reblog Challenge December 2022

27th:

Dincember 17: Home - Din Djarin x Reader by: @dindjarindiaries SFW

25 Days of Life Day 15 Part 2 of Day 4 with Wolffe by: @kaminocasey NSFW

Captain Rex X Reader by: @wild-karrde NSFW

25 Days of Life Day 18 - Tree Shopping With Thorn by: @kaminocasey SFW

Gregor x F!Reader by: @wild-karrde NSFW

Dincember 18: Joy - Din Djarin & Grogu by: @dindjarindiaries SFW

25 Days of Life Day 19: Going Through a Life Day Market with Obi Wan - Obi Wan x Reader by: @kaminocasey SFW

Naughty or Nice - Gregor x F!Reader by: @kaminocasey NSFW

Hard Working Girl - TBB x F!Reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus SFW

Thank You for Loving Me: Pleasant and Unpleasant Surprises - Tech x F!Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW

Bonsoir 8: Cry - Gregor x OC Cassia Nu by: @kaminocasey SFW

Dincember 19: Star - Din Djarin x Reader by: @dindjarindiaries SFW

Riding Home - TBB x F!Reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus Slightly Suggestive

The Wheelchair Surprise - TBB x GN!Reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus SFW

More Like Home - Benny Miller x F!Reader by: @musings-of-a-rose SFW

Hug Attack - TBB/Rex X Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW

Wrecker and Omega by: @wild-karrde SFW

Dincember 20: Snowman - Din Djarin & Grogu by: @dindjarindiaries SFW

Unsolved Mystery - Tech x GN!Reader by: @rain-on-kamino SFW

Notes on Tutoring: Doubt,Love - Dave York x F!Reader by: @honestly-shite NSFW

Snow - TBB x GN!Reader by: @nahoney22 SFW

28th:

In Command Part 3 - Rex X OFC Senna Aven by: @wild-karrde SFW

Thank you for Loving Me: I`m Gonna Be a Sniper! - Tech x F!Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW

What`s Got You Blushing Like That? - Hunter x GN!Reader by: @nahoney22 SFW

Don`t Miss Me - A letter from Wolffe by: @arctrooper69 SFW

Dincember 21: Boots - Din Djarin x Reader by: @dindjarindiaries SFW

25 Days of Life Day 20: Volunteering with Kix - Kix X Reader by: @kaminocasey SFW

25 Days of Life Day 21: Taking a Warm Bath with Dogma - Dogma x Reader by: @kaminocasey Suggestive

25 Days of Life Day 22: Sucking on a Candy Cane and Teasing Tup - Tup x Reader by: @kaminocasey NSFW

You Are in Violation of Order 66 - Hunter x F!Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW

Dincember 22: Decorations - Din Djarin x Reader by: @dindjarindiaries SFW

The Sugar in the Cake - Wrecker x GN!Reader by: @rain-on-kamino SFW

The Trees with the Pretty Flowers - Hunter x F!Reader by: @arctrooper69 SFW

25 Days of Life Day 23: Making Snow Angels with Anakin - Anakin x Reader by: @kaminocasey SFW

A Returning Echo~After the Citadel Ch. 33 - Echo x F!Reader by: @monako-jinn-stories SFW

Dincember 23: Ribbon - Din Djarin x Reader by: @dindjarindiaries SFW

In Command Part 4 - Rex X OFC Senna Aven by: @wild-karrde SFW

Black Sheep - TBB x M!Reader or GN!Reader by: @eyecandyeoz SFW

A Touch of Peppermint - Din Djarin x Reader by: @princessxkenobi SFW

25 Days of Life Day 24: Life Day Eve with Jesse - Jesse x Reader by: @kaminocasey SFW

Commander Fox X F!Reader by: @wild-karrde SFW

Dincember 24: Love - Din Djarin & Grogu by: @dindjarindiaries SFW

Decorating the Marauder - TBB x Reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus SFW

25 Days of Life Day - Life Day with the Bad Batch - Echo x Reader by: @kaminocasey SFW

Dincember 25: Holiday - The Mandalorian x Reader by: @dindjarindiaries SFW

Sun & Rain: Age of the Empire, Shocks on Pantora - Hunter x OFC by: @photogirl894 SFW

Where the Lovelight Gleams - TBB +F!Reader by: @interstellarwraith SFW

Taglist: @imabeautifulbutterfly@chaoticvampirejedi@hellothere-generalangsty@cyroku@reluctant-mandalore@uponrightful@zinzinina@saradika@galacticgraffiti@ashotofspotchka@dindjarindiaries@dinbeskarbaby@djarrex@djarinsbeskar@rowansparrow@photogirl894@rigelmoonshine@rigel-the-moonstrider@nahoney22@loth-wolffe@neon-junkie@bobafetts-princess@cyarbika@charnelhouse@zoeykallus@kin-rokku@jgvfhl@honestly-shite@here-comes-the-moose@dindjarindiaries@firstofficerwiggles@fictional-men-ruin-lives @ladysongmaster @lozalot @moonstrider9904@lorjukka@m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @rain-on-kamino @monako-jinn-stories @middimidoris @wild-karrde @arctrooper69 @eyecandyeoz

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queen--kenobi · 4 months ago

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Kinktober 2024 Day #1: Dirty Talk

Commander Thorn x OFC (Iriya "Kau'ra" Nahi)

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Warnings: Dirty talk, phone foreplay?

“Hey.” Kau'ra's dulcet tone makes Thorn smile. He leans back some in the seat of his speeder.

“Hey yourself.”

“How's your patrol going?”

Thorn shrugs despite her not being able to see him. The night had been fairly uneventful on the floors he's patrolling.

“Same old, same old.”

“Has it been... you know?”

“Don't.” Thorn warns, his voice lowering. Kau'ra snickers. His heart skips at the noise, even though it's at his expense.

“I wasn't going to say the q word.” Kau'ra lets out a low hum. “Besides. I was asking for a reason.”

Thorn arches an eyebrow. Kau'ra's voice becomes a little more breathy, an indication of exactly where she was going with this. Thorn's eyes flit around for a second. His speeder sits in the shadows of one of the buildings.

“And what reason might that be?” His voice responds to hers, dropping an octave and becoming huskier. Kau'ra giggles.

“Oh, nothing urgent. I just wanted to say I missed you.”

“It sounds like you miss one thing in particular.” He can't help teasing. Kau'ra lets out an indignant squeak, but it's clear she isn't truly offended.

“I take it back. I don't miss you.”

Even though he can't see her, he knows she stuck his tongue out at him. Thorn shakes his head and lets out a low laugh.

“But seriously, what are you doing right now?”

Thorn raises an eyebrow. Despite himself, his heart beat picks up a bit. He sits up a little more straight.

“Why?” He elongates the word, giving it a teasing quality.

“Because. I don't want to distract you if what you're doing is important.”

“And what kind of distraction are you offering?”

“Only the best kind.”

Thorn laughs at that. He drums his fingers against the edge of his speeder, eyes scanning the area. Nothing seems to be happening.

“I suppose.” He hopes he comes off cool and collected. Thorn almost sighs when his voice doesn't come out a squeak. Kau'ra managed to get him to do that once, and he never lived it down.

“Good.” Kau'ra hums softly. “I have a confession to make.”

“Oh, are we pretending you're a nun?” He doesn't even think; the words fall easily from his lips. Kau'ra clearly tries to go for disappointment, but a snort of laughter betrays her.

“I'm sure you'd want to see me get on my knees for you.”

Thorn let's out a choked noise. Kau'ra hums. The sound is entirely too pleased. Thorn wants to deny it, but the image makes blood rush through his veins. Kau'ra clearly sees her opening.

“Come on, you can't tell me you haven't thought about the last time.” Fuck, how does she make every word from her lips drip with honey? A honey he wants to lick from her lips. “We're so lucky we didn't get caught.”

“Kau'ra...”

“I'd do it again. I like being on my knees for you.”

He can't help his sharp inhale. Kau'ra giggles. She giggles at him, yet he can't find it in himself to truly be mad.

“I wonder. Do you think next time I can take you all the way down? You can't tell me the idea of me deep throating you in public isn't hot.”

“Kau'ra, I'm on patrol.” He feels his control of the situation slipping with every passing second.

“Oh? And here I was thinking you were eager to play.” Her faux disappoint makes his stomach flip in a pleasant way. Thorn won't admit it, but when she gets this way, it makes every thought leave him. All he can think about is her, tasting her, touching her, pleasing her.

“I am but-”

“When does your shift end?” She tries to inject innocence into her tone. He hears the wicked smile on her soft lips.

Thorn checks his comments faster than he ever has in his life.

"Two hours.”

“I'll get myself nice and warmed up for you. Two hours should give me plenty of time.”

Thorn lets his head fall forward with a groan.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Only a little death.” Thorn rolls his eyes at her joke. He hears her all too pleased snicker on the other line. He wants to tell her off; no words come to mind.

“I'll see you in two hours?”

“Two hours.” He nods rapidly as he agrees.

The line goes dead. Thorn inhales deeply. He wonders if she knows what she does to him, to all of them. Maneater doesn't even begin to describe her. He doesn't mind; he likes it when he's on her menu.

This was going to be the longest two hours of his life.

#oc: Iriya “Kau'ra” Nahi #Commander Thorn x OFC #NSFT #kinktober 2024 #Persephone writes

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wild-karrde · 2 years ago

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Karrde's Fandom Friday Rec #2 (4/7/23)

My next rec this week has to go to the 18+ fic Covetousness by @lady--kenobi. I don’t know how I missed it on the first go around, but I’m so glad it floated back on my radar this week. I am absolutely enamored by Perse’s Starlit Murder series, and this one-shot just enriches the universe and characters even more. Her OCs Leena and Kau’ra/Iriya are so beautifully complex and their relationship is so imperfect and interesting. The yearning and angst in this absolutely twisted my heart in the best way. I loved it and it has just been hanging out in my head ever since I read it. HIGHLY recommend!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fanfiction #fan fic #Star Wars #the clone wars #OC kau’ra #OC leena #OC iriya nahi #nsft #lemon #lemony lemon #ofc x ofc #commander thorn #commander thorn x oc #commander thorn x ofc #angst #yearning

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teletraan-meets-jarvis · 4 years ago

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My AO3 Account

Tag List Signup

Multi-chapter:

Pieces - Commander Wolffe x OFC (Issa Straun) - Ongoing!

Oneshots/Shorts:

Little Moments - Commander Cody x Obi-Wan Kenobi

With You (18+) - Commander Wolffe x OFC (Issa Straun)

Hang on to Yourself - Commander Fox x fem!Reader

Breathe - Commander Wolffe post fighting Ventress in TCW 'To Catch a Jedi'

Date Night With The Captain (req) - Captain Rex x gn!Reader

Home - (gift) A "What If?" for a potential happy ending in @wild-karrde 's fic verse.

Monster | Part 1 | Part 2 - Commander Fox angst

Helping Hand - Wolffe fights to prove his worth after the loss of his eye

The (Not So Secret) Super Secret Surprise Party (req) - Disaster Lineage and friends plan Ahsoka a surprise party

A Girl Like You - Slight Commander Wolffe x fem!Jedi Reader

What Happens At 79's, Stays at 79's - Commander Wolffe x fem!Reader

Savior - Commander Thorn x OC (Mayakel Renspou)

What I Want (18+) | Part 1 | Part 2 - Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Darkest Part - Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Electric (req) - Tech/F!Reader

----------------

Requests: CLOSED

Leave a request here

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peonysink · 3 years ago

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Without You (Chapter X)

pairing: OFC x Original Clone Character / OFC x Rex

words: 3,9k

Warning: Explicit, 18+, PiV sex, mention of death, coping with grief and loss, pain, angst

“NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO….. “ - Ava kept repeating and shaking her head. Rex was holding her shoulders trying to make her listen to him as he shook her lightly.

“Ava, Ava, look at me” - his voice was authoritative. “The garrison has over 100 troopers and not everyone was on Scipio. We don’t know for sure who was there yet. We don’t know if Rio was there! Do you hear what I’m saying?”

Ava’s eyes caught Rex’s and she was suddenly quiet. For the first time, ever since he told her about commander Thorn some words actually got through to her.

“You mean you don’t know if he was there?” - she whispered.

“That’s exactly what I mean, but I’m going to check, I’m going to comm his barracks now and try to find out. I’ll need your help though.” - Rex said, his voice gentler now.

“What… what help?” - Ava stammered.

“I’m going to need his CT number, do you know it?”

“I do..” - Ava whispered but it sounded more like a question. Her mind was blank, completely blank from the shock of hearing the news. Even if Rio was okay, and he had to be, the news that he lost his commander and so many brothers, his closest friends was too much to bear.

“Ava!” - Rex’s voice brought her back to reality. He was still holding her shoulders, his face serious. “Ava, I need you to focus and try to think if you know his CT number.”

“I do, I do.. I know it.” - she looked at Rex. “It’s CT 3103”

“Alright, are you sure?”

“Yes, Yes I am.” Rex nodded. As he was about to get up, Ava put her hand on his and stopped him. He turned and looked at her.

“Thank you, Rex!” - she said, her eyes full of tears. “You don’t have to do any of this. It just, it… it means a lot to me….”

Rex attempted a smile as he put his hand over hers. Ava knew how shocking and hurtful it must have been for him to hear that an esteemed commander and a part of his garrison were gone, but Rex always knew how to hide and manage his emotions when it came to those things. The pale look on his face was mainly because of her. He knew how hurt she’d be if anything happened to Rio.

“I’m going to make a call now, cyar’ika. Try to relax, take deep breaths. They might not be able to tell me anything yet, I can imagine there’s quite a chaos over there right now, but I’ll try…”

“Thank you Rex… I really appreciate it!” Ava leaned and kissed him on the cheek, and Rex squeezed her hand.

He got up and went to the kitchen again and Ava could hear him entering a code and talking to someone.

Rio. She tried to calm her mind, because going there, allowing those thoughts to actually enter it was unbearable. She was weak as it was, and she didn’t have the capacity to actually process the possibility… let alone accept that it could even be a possibility. It couldn’t be Rio because it simply couldn’t be Rio. He had to be alive and well because there was no other way. There must have been some galactic justice left in that vast and often too brutal universe that wouldn’t allow that to happen to him. And yet again, it happened to commander Thorn and so many other good men.

She heard Rex’s steps from the kitchen as he entered the room but she was too afraid to turn around and face him. She knew she’d be able to see it in his eyes right away. Rex saw that she didn’t dare to face him so he hurried towards her. Approaching her he put his hand on her shoulder and turned her towards him:

“It’s okay cyar’ika, he’s okay. He’s at the barracks. I actually spoke briefly to him.” - Rex said calmly, his face visibly brightening.

Ava could feel the weight of a galaxy fall off of her shoulders as she raised her head and looked at Rex. They stayed in silence for a while, processing the emotional rollercoaster they had just gone through in the past few minutes. Rex was the first to move and just as he was about to say something Ava wanted to get up and hug him so she leapt to her feet, feeling dizzy momentarily and almost tripping over. Rex caught her swiftly and she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Rex hugged her back and buried his head on her shoulder.

“It’s okay, cyar’ika, everything will be okay!”

—-

The barracks weren’t the way she imagined them. She always thought there’d be rows and rows of boring, depressing squared buildings, but as they approached them she realized there was something quite welcoming about them. Homely almost. The buildings were big, each had three floors and stretched far, so far she thought she couldn’t see the end. There must have been thousands of troopers living in those buildings at any point, and Ava realized she was never aware of the sheer size of it. As they were making their way through the vast hallway the mood in the barracks was palatable. They have just lost one of their bravest and most beloved commanders, a rising star, commander Thorn and over 30 young guardsmen. Ava could sense the feeling of desperation as they were moving through the quarters. She could see it on every trooper's face as well. Desperation and sadness mixed with anger.

Rex was quiet the entire time on their ride there. Ava wondered if he knew commander Thorn and how well. She wondered if Cody had heard the news and where he was. She knew Rex was in contact with Cody all the time, but she didn’t ask him anything. There’d be time for that. Regardless of whether Rex knew him or not, it was his brother and he died defending the cause they all laid their lives for, day after day. Ava always wondered whether those beliefs that were indoctrinated in every trooper, their beliefs in the Republic cause, were shaken or strengthened when something like this happened. Something else she should ask Rex sometime later, she made a mental note.

But moving through the barracks now, she felt that her determination was strong, stronger than ever. She didn't know how she found the energy, the will and the strength, but there she was, holding Rex’s hand and marching through the Republic quarters. Probably the saddest place on the Coruscant at that moment.

She heard Rex say something to a trooper behind some kind of a reception area and the trooper buzzed them in. Behind those doors, there were three other doors they needed to get through, but each door was opened for Rex. Finally, as they arrived at the east wing of the building, Rex squeezed her hand and made her face him:

“You’re going to have to continue on your own from here, cyare.” - he said, his eyes soft. He looked tired and Ava could see that same sadness and desperation on his face, the same she saw everywhere around the barracks.

She nodded.

“Where will you be?”

“I’ll be right here. I’ll wait here” - Rex said and pulled her towards him and kissed her temple. Ava hugged him back.

Once again he was her rock. Always was and always will be. She could do anything as long as Rex was by her side.

As he let her go, Rex turned and walked towards another trooper and told him something. Ava saw the trooper comm someone on his holodevice, and then wait for a response. After a while he received an answer and then he contacted someone again till he finally nodded. Rex turned to Ava:

“Go on now, just through those doors, I’ll wait here.”

Ava nodded and walked towards the door. They opened in front of her, and as soon as she stepped in yet another vast hall, she saw a familiar face. One she would always recognize in the sea of identical faces. His eyes were tired and red and his hair messier than usual, but it was him, unmistakably.

“Rio” - she said as she approached him. She was worried if he’d want to see her, and how he’d react, but she couldn’t let go. She had to try. If he wanted to yell and scream at her, she’d let him. If he hated her, she’d accept it. But she felt she had to see him, had to try to talk to him, and had to try to be there for him.

As soon as he lifted his eyes and looked at her, and she attempted to half-smile, Rio came closer to her in three steps and threw his arms around her. Ava felt the weight of a galaxy fall off her shoulders as she held him tight, feeling his arms digging deep into her back and his whole body beginning to shake.

“Rio, I’m so sorry!” - she kept repeating as she heard him sob, burying his head between her shoulder and her neck. Ava could feel her tears rolling down her cheeks as well, as she held him close, feeling him falling apart under her touch. They stayed that way for a while, and Ava could feel the looks of other troopers on them, but everyone knew. Everyone understood. The entire GAR was in mourning.

Rio finally managed to compose himself, as he relaxed his hands that moments ago were digging deep into her, and discreetly wiped away his tears. Ava put her hand on his cheek. His eyes were red and she could see that he’s been crying for a while. His face was tired and slightly bloated. She caught his gaze for a moment and attempted to smile, but she half succeeded.

“I want to ask how are you doing, but I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to even ask that, when I know you can’t be doing well...” - Ava managed to say.

Rio was silent for a while, easing his head in her touch.

“I can’t seem to wrap my mind around all of this. I still expect someone to come and tell me that this was all a mistake and that they are all well and on their way back…” - he finally managed to speak. He moved slightly back, and Ava removed her hand from his cheek.

“I understand that” - she said. “You’re still in shock. How could you not be! This is so horrible!”

Rio looked at her and said nothing for a while.

“I am so sorry, Rio, I really am. I… I thought you were with them when I first heard and…” - Ava felt tears rolling down her cheek again and she couldn’t finish that sentence.

Rio hesitated for a while and then came closer to her. He wiped her tear away and moved his hand to her chin as he slightly lifted her head up to meet his gaze.

“You saved my life, you know that, right?” - he said, his eyes firmly on hers.

Ava wasn’t sure she heard him well.

“W-what?”

“They were all deployed to Scipio on the night of your birthday. But I took a night off to be with you. First time ever I took a night off… When I came back to the barracks they were all gone, and I was told that it was an emergency assignment. Had I been there that night, I too would…” - Rio stopped, raising his eyes to catch Ava’s.

Ava couldn’t believe what she was hearing. All she could do is throw her arms around Rio again and hug him tight.

“At first I was relieved when I heard…” - Rio continued, burying his head in her hair, right between her shoulder and her neck, “I thought, it could have been me. But then I felt guilty, and I still feel guilty, thinking it should have been me! I should have been there with them, with my brothers, my commander, I should have….”

“No!” - Ava interrupted him, as she took his head in her hands and tried to find his eyes again. “No, Rio, you cannot think like that. Had you been there you wouldn’t be able to change anything. You just would have been killed like the rest of them. As far as I understood they were ambushed and they didn’t stand a chance.”

Rio couldn’t look her in the eyes, and she could see how conflicted he was about all those thoughts that were raving in his head.

“Rio, I don’t want you to think that way. What you feel now is survivor’s guilt, and it’s normal, but it’ll pass. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. This is war and I hate it, I hate it so much. I hate that you all put your lives at risk every single day, I hate that there are so many casualties, so much loss, and we don’t seem to be anywhere near the end of this nightmare. But I’m glad you’re alive. I’m glad you were with me that night, and I’m glad that you weren’t deployed with them. And you should be too!”

Rio was still looking at his feet like he did that first evening she met him, shyly avoiding her eyes. He grew up so much in a span of just a few months. From an innocent wide-eyed young man he was when he first arrived at Coruscant, to now an experienced grown man who went through so much on a personal and professional level.

“Ava… I… I’m sorry I haven’t replied to you these past few days. I know you’ve been writing..” - Rio said, still not looking at her.

“No, it’s okay, Rio” - she stopped him, “You don’t have to explain anything. You had every right to be angry with me, and I should have given you space. I’m sorry for all the messages…”

He looked at her without saying anything. Ava could see that she hurt him, and there was nothing she could do about that. All she could do, all she wanted to do was to help him as much as possible now, be there for him through this incredible loss. However he needed her.

“I’ve made a mistake, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.” - she said. “I met you at a very vulnerable period of my life and you were the first good thing that had happened to me at that time. And I swear to you Rio, had I thought that there was an ounce of chance that Rex might return or that I’d ever get back with him, I swear I would never even talk to you. But I didn’t… I didn’t know… And I’m sorry!” - Ava felt tears overpowering her again, and she turned her head to hide it from him.

Rio was just standing, motionlessly listening. She looked at him again, and his face wasn’t telling what he was thinking.

“But you need to know” - she continued “that I loved every single moment with you. I still do! I never lied about that or how I felt about you, I swear, Rio! I care about you a lot. And when I…. when I thought that you were dead….” - her voice broke, and she couldn’t hold her tears back anymore.

Rio took one step towards her and hugged her. She hugged him back, still feeling incredibly grateful that she could do that, that he was there, alive.

“It’s okay, Ava,” - he finally said, while he was caressing her hair, “it’s fine. It just came all of a sudden, and I needed some time to understand what happened. But it’s okay. I know you didn’t do it to hurt me, I know that now.”

She hugged him tighter when she felt that he was about to unwrap his hands from her and move away. She could hear him smirk as he put his hands back on her, and they stayed that way for a while.

“Ava, you should know something…” - Rio was first to speak.

Ava lifted her head and looked at him. He hesitated for a moment.

“I’ve requested a transfer from Coruscant.” - he said. “I just… I can’t stay here, not after everything that has happened.”

Ava moved from him, confused.

“What do you mean, a transfer? Where will you go?”

“To the front. I’ll leave Coruscant Guard and join one of the other legions. I haven’t yet been told which one, but I was told that I’ll be deployed and leave quite soon.”

Ava was quiet.

“I can’t stay here. I feel… I feel I have to go out there and fight. I want to fight the separatists, Ava, I want to look at those droids and fire at them. I want to destroy them, all of them. For my brothers, for my squad!”

Ava understood. Of course she did. But she also understood the implications of that decision. Being a part of Coruscant guard was a matter of prestige, something one trained for all of one’s life. And only selected clone troopers got that position. It was a safer position at the centre of the Republic, the one that meant mostly peacekeeping and diplomatic missions. Not that that position didn’t have its risks - it was clear it did, especially after what had happened to commander Thorn. But it was nothing compared to those troopers who were out there, on the front, fighting, looking death in the eyes almost every day. She understood why he had to make that decision, and she knew that no one could ever say anything to make him change his mind. She understood why he had to do it and she knew she had to accept it and be there for him.

She looked at him and nodded, and then came closer to him and hugged him again. He hugged her back.

“I hope you know you’ll always have a friend on Coruscant. Whenever you’re back here, I want you to call me, is that understood?”

She could feel him smile as he hugged her tighter.

“Understood!” - Rio replied.

—--

Rex was waiting where he said he would when Ava appeared. He was talking to another trooper when he saw her.

“Everything alright?” - he asked, looking concerned as he approached her.

She nodded.

“Take me home, please, Rex” - she said, as she tangled her fingers in his, taking his arm.

She was silent the entire ride home and Rex didn’t want to pressure her into talking. Arriving back home she took her coat off and headed for the refresher where she took a long hot shower. When she came out from the refresher she found Rex sitting in her living room, on holocall, and she didn’t want to interrupt him.

She felt tired beyond her limits and headed for her bedroom. Soon after Rex came in, silently, worrying he’d wake her up.

“I’m awake” - she said.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you” - he said. “Just wanted to check up on you.”

“I’m okay. Just tired is all. I need to catch up on my sleep.” - Ava replied.

“That you should, mesh’la. Would it be…”- Rex hesitated for a while, “would you mind if I rest here for a while as well? I’ll take the couch in the living room”. - he asked.

Ava smiled, barely being able to hold her eyes open. She stretched her arm in his direction.

“Rex, come here.” - she whispered, and Rex smiled.

“Let me take the armour off, mesh’la. I don’t think you want to rest next to someone wearing a hard plastoid”.

Rex disappeared in the refreshers, and Ava couldn’t fight her tiredness anymore, falling asleep moments after. She woke up a few hours later to a complete darkness in her room, and she felt a warm body next to her, spooning her. She felt Rex’s even breathing as she touched his arm that was resting on her stomach.

“You’re awake.” - he whispered next to her.

She turned around to face him, even though she couldn’t see him in the darkness.

“So are you.” - she said.

“I’ve had a few hours of good sleep” - Rex whispered, “in a comfortable, warm bed. That’s more than I can say most nights.”

Ava moved her body closer to his till she was pressed completely to his chest. He leaned his forehead against hers.

“Do you know how long you’ll stay? I mean on Coruscant?” - she asked him.

“I’ll stay a few more days. There’s going to be a funeral in two days, and I’ll probably be deployed a day or two after that.”

Ava nodded.

“I’ll comm you every night” - he whispered.

“I know. Whenever you need me, I’m here for you. And I don’t want you to worry about me, Rex. I know now what we have. Whatever fate and war throw at us we’ll fight it. We’ll get through it. I just never want to lose you again”

“You won’t. I promise!” - Rex said as he caressed her back. Ava closed her eyes and touched his face. She ran her fingers over the dark stubble on his cheek, as Rex eased his head into her hand.

“Rex, I want to ask you something.” - she said hesitating.

“What is it, mesh’la?”

“Rio told me that he requested a transfer. He wants to go to the front and fight - do you think you can… I don’t know, somehow… maybe transfer him to the 501st? So that you can look after him?” - Ava asked. She wondered how Rex would feel about it and whether it was even appropriate to ask him, but she couldn’t get that thought out of her head.

Rex was quiet for a moment that seemed like eternity to Ava.

“I can, mesh’la, but do you think he’d want that?” - he finally said.

Ava didn’t say anything, but she knew what Rex meant. She didn’t consider that, but being under Rex’s command would probably be the last thing Rio needed right now. Regardless of the fact how well he’d be treated and looked after there.

“No, you’re right, he wouldn’t.” - Ava said quietly. “I’m just worried about him.”

“I know, mesh’la, I know.” - Rex replied. He was quiet for a while. “Perhaps I can ask Cody to transfer him to the 212? He’d be looked after there.”

Ava smiled.

“Yes, that would be good, I think.” - Ava nodded, moving her head back against Rex’s forehead. The idea of Cody looking after Rio was suddenly very comforting. “Thank you, Rex!” - she said, as she moved her hand down to his shoulder and his arm.

“One day all of this will be behind us, mesh’la. You’ll see. And things will get easier, I promise you” - Rex whispered, placing a gentle kiss on Ava’s cheek.

Ava moved her head as her lips found his. Rex seemed almost taken aback by the kiss for a moment, but then he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly as he kissed her back. He felt amazing. His lips, so gentle and his tongue slowly exploring her mouth, his teeth biting her lower lip. Ava never wanted to let go. All of their problems, all the loss and tragedy was outside those four walls, but at that moment, in Ava’s bedroom there was nothing else but two bodies intertwined, two souls deeply in love and nothing else mattered.

Ava pressed her body firmer against Rex’s, and she slowly started moving her hand down to touch his hardening member. She wanted him. Rex moved his lips from hers for a moment and caught her hand that almost reached underneath his waistband.

“Mesh’la…are you sure?” - he whispered.

“I’m sure, Rex, I need to feel you, baby, please…” - she whimpered, and she didn’t need to finish her sentence, Rex was already on her, deepening the kiss and his arms everywhere on her. She felt how much he wanted that as well, how much he missed her, but at the same time how he didn’t want to rush things, waiting till she felt ready. But the moment he heard her say those words Rex couldn’t hold back anymore. His lips were on hers, moving to her neck, sucking, biting the sensitive skin wherever he could reach, his arms reaching under her shirt, touching her warm body and finding her breasts, teasing the sensitive nipples. He rutted his hips instinctively against her and she could feel him grow and become harder and Ava couldn’t wait anymore. She wanted him, wanted his touch, wanted every part of his body as close to her as possible.

“Need to feel you, baby, make me feel like nothing else matters..” - she panted, and Rex was already taking her panties off, while she hooked her hands on the waistband of his blacks, trying to pull them down. Rex smirked against her lips and moved his hand to help her, releasing his hard cock. Ava moaned at the feeling of it against her stomach, becoming more aware of the dampness between her legs.

“Rex…” - she moaned, rolling her hips against his body, looking for some friction, looking to ease the pressure that had built up in her core.

“I know, baby girl, I know…” - Rex whispered as he lined his cock up at her entrance, gathering her wetness on his tip before tilting his hips and sliding slowly inside her. They both moaned at the same time, cherishing the feeling they’d been longing for such a long time.

Rex’s first thrusts were deliberately slow like he wanted to worship every part of her, every second of that moment. Ava could feel how hard he was, she could feel every ridge on his cock against her walls as he was filling her up. After a long time, she felt like she was safe and complete again. This was what she wanted, what she needed so badly, Emotions overpowered her as her loud moans began echoing through the room.

Rex’s lips were soon on hers swallowing her moans, fingers tangled in her hair as he started moving slightly faster, deeper, knowing how she liked it, reaching that magic spot just the way she liked it.

It didn’t take a long time and Ava felt the familiar warmness in her core threatening to spread to her entire body. Rex could tell that she was close, and he moved his hand between them, finding her clit and applying just a gentle pressure in slow circular moves, as he continued his deep thrusts. Ava whimpered, digging her nails deeper into Rex’s back, feeling like she was absorbed by a white light washing over her entire body.

One day all of this will be behind us, mesh’la, you’ll see .

His words were still ringing in her ears.

#captain rex #tcw rex #rex smut #original female character #rex #rex x oc #original clone characters #final chapter #grieving #commander thorn #loss cw #angst to comfort

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katherinewilliams221b · 4 years ago

Text

For A Greater Good 14/18

not my gif just the text. Some Things Are Meant To Stay Hidden

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13]

5 months ago,

“You must stop at once.”

“Where is it, Karkarov?” The former headmaster looked around before returning to the conversation.

“I don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into…”

“You dragged me into this ten years ago! Finish what you started.”

“I had the time to meditate about it, and now I implore you to do the same if you don’t want to end up dead.”

“He is looking for you, you know? And He’ll find you, eventually. You’re nothing but a coward. I bet the British Ministry of Magic would appreciate knowing where you are. It will take just one owl to inform my contact there.”

“Don’t try to pretend you haven’t sent someone to find me. You thought I would be so stupid to hide in the castle?”

“Tell me how to find Grindelwald’s room and you can slither back to your secret spot.”

“What do you expect to find there?”

“Something He might want.”

Karkarov scoffed.

“What did he promise you? The resurrection stone, it’s not real. You won’t find it there and He doesn’t have it.”

“They exist!” Agitated, the teacher approached Karkarov. “They exist and they are in that room.”

“You have no idea what you are doing.” Contemplating if he should give away his secret, he decided to put some fear in the teacher’s eyes. “Do you know how I left that abominable place they call Azkaban?”

“I know. You sang like a bird.”

“None of the names were useful to them… but perhaps the new ones will. If you behave, I won’t mention yours.”

The teacher grabbed Karkarov’s arm and exposed his mark.

“You don’t deserve this.”

“And you will never get it.”

Both of them drew out their wands as a warning.

“Who ‘s that?” Asked Karkarov.

The teacher turned and frowned at the image of Flavia Hodges leaving her classroom.

“You told me everyone was at the quidditch match.” Hodges turned and when she saw them, she was left frozen in place.

“Her sight is not her best ability but…”

“Take care of it.”

After helping Cassandra and Leron leave the classroom unseen, Kate wandered the corridors of the castle instead of going to prepare the activities for her class the following week.

Nor did she go to see Corentin, knowing that they had a project pending that they could not delay any longer.

She wanted to go home. She had had enough of the whole thing, and the possibility of not being able to return in a near future scared her. How much longer was the nightmare going to last?

A pair of eyes were on her, she sensed it, and tried to appear as unbothered as she could. The attempt at discovering who was watching her through legilimency failed, so she turned around to check her back. There was nothing out of the ordinary, just students coming and going.

As she turned to continue on her way, she came face to face with Kent Jorgensen, who only glanced at her before looking around.

“I’d like to talk to you. Not here. There are too many prying ears.”

Kate knew that Cassandra would tell Jorgensen that someone else knew the secret that they had managed to keep hidden, but she didn’t expect it to be so soon. She followed him to the front door, and they went outside. “A walk?”

“To the greenhouse.” The phrase came out as a command rather than the suggestion she had in mind.

“To the greenhouse, then.”

They walked silently the short way to Kate’s workplace and when she closed the door behind her, Jorgensen finally spoke.

“So you know.”

“Yes.” She put on some gloves to protect herself from the bite of the fanged geraniums and started placing the pots on the central table, side by side, unconsciously creating a barrier between the two. She grabbed a spray and casually started to take care of her plants.

“I think I owe you an apology.” Jorgensen commented, looking around. “You have made a very interesting place out of that old building. Where did you get the umbrella flowers?”

Kate stopped spraying the geraniums and looked him straight in the eye. “Why do you owe me an apology?” Jorgensen lowered his head.

“I misjudged you. I thought you were here for him. When... what are you doing?”

“Yesterday I gave them gumbumbles to eat. If I don’t clean their teeth, the treacle can wilt them.” While Jorgensen was talking Kate had opened a drawer and pulled out some forceps she put in the mouth of one of the geraniums so she could sprinkle a greyish substance inside.

“Leron is not conscious when he is under the influence of the Billywig. When I heard that Flavia had suffered these ‘accidents’ I thought... I was afraid for him.” Jorgensen frowned as he saw Kate put her hand into the geranium’s mouth.

“The tongue must also be cleaned,” she simply said. When she finished with that plant, she left her gadgets on the table. The time for evasion was over.

“I apologise to you too.” Jorgensen looked surprised. “I thought you were behind Flavia’s accidents.”

“And why would you think such a thing?”

“Well... you must admit that you didn’t look innocent when you talked about it.”

The professor put his hands behind his back, “So Rhode really didn’t bring you here to take him away?” Kate shook her head, hoping he would believe her.

“I’ve already told Steiner. Rhode doesn’t know anything, and if she finds out, it won’t be because of me.”

Kate continued her routine, taking care of each of the geraniums while Jorgensen eyed at her.

“He’s always been like that, you know? His wife’s death only made it worse.”

“Steiner told me you don’t want to send him to a hospital.”

“She doesn’t want to. I’ve been flirting with the idea since the day he hit Micael.” He paused, and Kate looked up as she sensed a deep sadness. “He’s my friend though, nobody knows him better than us.”

“I understand what you mean.”

“Losing the people you love is a heavy pain. As if a rock bigger than you were crushing your chest. It’s our responsibility to learn to get rid of the weight that keeps us from moving forward and go on our way with a little bit of dirt in our pockets, to remind us of what we have experienced.”

As Kate put the pots back and cleaned the soil off the table while taking glances at him. Jorgensen was left pensive for a moment and continued to speak, perhaps to himself, in a monologue he wished would help him clear his head.

“Leron took refuge in a familiar place, a dark place where he could neither see nor feel. A decision that is taking its toll on him.”

Kate sat down on one of the benches, the table still keeping the distance between them. Better that way, she thought, despite the situation with Jorgensen had taken quite a turn, she didn’t trust anyone in that school.

“Is there anything else you want to ask me?” He questioned.

“I know he’s meeting someone in the woods.” Jorgensen’s eyebrow shot to his hairline, “With whom?”

“With his supplier, of course. The Billywigs are not native to this area. That man is very elusive. Every day I fly over the forest to find him, but by the time I get down he’s gone. I have never managed to catch Leron with billywigs in his hand because he used to hide them here before entering the castle”.

Kate pondered this new information for a long time. She couldn’t imagine how she would feel if any of her friends were going through a similar situation, and she couldn’t find anything to tell Jorgensen that would help him in the least.

“It must be very difficult,” she finally said. The professor nodded and rolled up his sleeves, revealing some red scratches.

“Cassandra told me you saw one of his light episodes. But if he’s got over three billywigs in him... things get a little twisted.”

“Do you think he will get over it?”

“I’m hoping he will.”

“As we have already discussed, obtaining hybrids comprises two phases; we have already made enough crosses and we have a pure line of umbrella flowers. The next step will be to cross them again, this time with fanged geraniums”.

Kate tapped her fingers against her thigh, waiting impatiently for the class to finish. She placed a pot on the greenhouse table, with a seemingly calm geranium.

She gave several instructions on how to treat it, pointing to the teeth and thorns as points to watch for, and let them experiment on their own.

She put her hand to her chest, following the dragon-shaped silhouette of her necklace through the clothes. In a short time it would all be over.

The thought grieved her too. Over the months she had developed a special affection for these children and not only because she feared they would run around in the same hallways with a loose Death Eater, but because she genuinely liked them.

And Corentin. Oh, what would she have done without him these months? He was being of great help in her mission; both investigating and being the only thing that prevented her from collapsing completely.

“After transferring the pollen, don’t forget to cover the geranium pots.” She said almost shouting, so she could be heard among the voices of the children.

When they heard the castle bell, Kate practically pushed them out of the greenhouse, closed the door and shot out to the castle, throwing a “See you on Friday!” Over her shoulder.

It was the day. The day Corentin and Kate agreed to start the trip to Grindelwald‘s room. Kate was a walking ball of nerves; not only for the excitement of investigating secret parts of a magnificent castle, but she would also be alone and probably in the dark.

“Here you go.” Corentin whispered, handing her the complete map.

The week prior, Kate and Corentin had done their best to find a way through Nerida’s painting. They racked their brains thinking about it until the only solution left was to find another way.

It didn’t take long for them to follow the path that led to the room and discover, to their great surprise and a touch of concern, that the starting point was a well-known place.

The library.

Now all that was needed was to find the how.

Behind the wall guarded by the librarian’s desk, Kate and Corentin were hiding in the dark.

Corentin looked at the stairs that led to the first floor of the tower where section C of the library was located. “It’s impossible for you to go up. The path ends here.”

Kate inspected the opposite wall, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. “Do you think it will have a Muggle mechanism like the painting?”

Corentin hummed, but did not answer the question.

With steady hands, Kate began to probe the stone in search of something; she did not know what, but something.

She gasped when a strange sensation ran through her body. In one corner, the wall had stopped being material to the touch and her fingertips disappeared.

She quickly reached out and looked at Corentin. “I have seen this spell before. There is... there is a door in a tower that cannot be opened. I went through it to go to a teachers’ meeting.”

She tested the wall again, this time inserting her arm up to her elbow, and took it out again, confirming her theory.

“I felt air on the other side.”

“Good luck, then.”

Kate wielded her wand a little harder than usual and with a long sigh after nodding to Corentin, ventured deep into the building.

It was not completely dark. A light could be seen in the distance. She made her way with the light emanating from her wand to the first torch. The path had narrowed in her wake without her noticing, and the space she had to manoeuvre had become limited.

The map had not yet blurred, but she didn’t risk losing it completely, so she approached it delicately towards the fire.

There was at an intersection with two possible directions and she took the one on the right as indicated on the map. The one on the left led to some stairs that went up to the first floor.

The passage became even narrower, forcing her to turn sideways and walk facing the wall. As she moved forward, she heard voices near her. They were not obvious; the sound was lost in the stone, but she could tell that she was just behind the advanced duelling classroom.

A sound of an explosion startled her, and there, pressed against two walls, she held her breath, thinking, irrationally, that the entire structure would collapse, leaving her buried and forgotten forever.

Her rational part of her brain understood that it was just a spell that had bounced off the wall, confirming that Libor Marek was on the other side.

Without wasting any more time, she kept going, as she could, the long way until it widened.

She took a deep breath and stopped.

The map was almost gone, but the last lines indicated that she had to go down the stairs right in front of her. Kate began to descend with little enthusiasm and soon reached the last step. It was on the same level as the castle kitchens.

Her footsteps echoed around her, and she wondered if anyone could hear her.

Suddenly, something else reverberated on the walls of the passage. A metallic, dry and very short sound almost imperceptible were it not for the fact that she was walking very slowly.

She stood still and waited.

She waved her light back and forth, but there was no one with her. As she moved one foot to begin her expedition again, she heard it once more, this time recognising the sound as something she should have avoided.

Behind her, part of the wall began to fall out of place; a seemingly endless stone wall closed off her path, and when she thought she could only go forward, she realised that she had been hopelessly trapped; another wall closed off the passage.

She folded the now-empty map as best she could and kept it up her sleeve so she could approach the wall freely. She cursed when she heard the noise again.

The walls began to move towards her. Kate frantically searched for something to help her escape the fate that awaited her in a few minutes. With her wand between her teeth, she groped the wall that was pushing her back and with wide eyes watched as the second one was getting closer and closer to her back.

She tried to stop them with a repelling spell, but the space was getting smaller and smaller with every second. In desperation she continued to touch the stone that was oppressing her and for a second her hand sank.

As fast as she could, she went through the rock the same way she entered the tunnel system in the library, and appeared on the other side. Several torches lit up part of the way.

Behind her, the two walls met, raising a cloud of dust that made her cough. Now there was no turning back.

She lost track of time as she walked. The corridor was long as it crossed the castle from side to side. Luckily for her, she didn’t need to have her wand lit. With several torches at her disposal, she turned right, where a flight of steps would bring her closer to her goal. When she reached the top, she was left in the dark again.

The feeling was strange. She was not on the main floor, but neither was she in the depths from which she had come.

With a last glance at the paper, she turned left, venturing out on the last stretch of the journey.

The tunnels drawn on the map were disappearing, but Kate had already reached her destination. She stopped at the crossroads and lit up the area with her wand.

To her left was the long awaited gate and to her right, stairs to the first floor that reached a dead end. With the map erased and no torches nearby, she sensed that that was the space where Nerida’s painting was.

With a deep breath to calm herself down, she took the metal mop and pulled, discovering that the door was open. Thinking that the last stretch to her goal had been suspiciously easy, she ventured into the room.

She immediately covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve; decades of dampness and pestilence had accumulated in the room, and the fact that the only point of ventilation was the door she entered would not help the situation.

She felt around the nearest walls and found a candlestick. Waving her wand very delicately so as not to overdo the size of the flames, she pronounced, “Incendio”.

She was startled when all the candles in the room lit up in an electric blue, revealing several disturbing elements.

She took two steps back, closing the door with her back in the process.

Recovering her temper, she approached the first thing that caught her attention: a large glass cylinder that almost reached the ceiling, filled with a green liquid that was most likely stagnant water.

A skeleton of a creature which could perfectly well have been a snake or some type of sea serpent, rested on the bottom surrounded by smaller bones. She wrinkled her nose and looked away to the rest of the room.

Just to the right of the tube was a desk filled with sketches and writings. It was not the only place where there were scrolls, though; the walls were practically wallpapered with drawings and notes. The Deathly Hallows symbol was obsessively drawn all over the place.

At the door, Kate recognised the map of Nerida recreated with several pieces of paper.

She focused on the desk where there were more documents. She frowned at the particularly dark drawings of creatures that were not exactly human, but Kate could not recognise what they were.

On one sheet of paper the word ‘Inferi’ was written.

Above the desk and completely covered by scrolls was a world map, with some pins in certain places. A small piece of paper was written on it: ‘Peverell?’

She surrounded the chair that stood in her way and came to a shelf full of jars; some empty and others with ingredients for potions.

She touched something with her foot and almost jumped up to the ceiling.

A crystal ball rested on a complex system of tubes and wires that she could not identify. With the hit, the ball vibrated for a few moments and Kate held her breath.

Relieved when the ball was finally in place, she bent down to read the label attached to it: ‘Erik Aaberg.’

“No...” She sighed. She had found the place where he had captured the obscurus.

On the ground there were more drawings, this time of several children with detailed descriptions.

In the silence, she heard her own saliva coming down her throat as she imagined how Grindelwald chose his victim.

Beyond the system that once contained an obscurus, she glimpsed the feet of a black lectern she had never seen before.

She conjured up lumos again so she could see better and stood up to read the scroll that rested there.

Curious.

It looked new, and the layer of dust was not as evident as in the other objects. She unrolled it and began to read.

Alecto Carrow

Amycus Carrow

Walden Macnair

Lucius Malfoy

Narcisa Malfoy

Isidora Gonore

Thorfinn Rowle

Antonin Dolohov

Cyprus Raynott

Malina Hadwise

Corban Yaxley

Gaspar Avery

The list stopped there, but the trembling of her jaw did not. She recognised several names: Corban Yaxley had become friends with her grandfather many years ago, after he had dealt with a plague of acromantulas in the mansion where she lived as a child; Lucius Malfoy, a man from the Ministry who would not leave Mr Weasley alone, his son was studying with Charlie’s brother; Cyprus Raynott! Her father’s workmate, and the person who had come to Durmstrang to find Igor Karkarov.

She recognised Dolohov’s name from the newspapers; he was imprisoned in Azkaban for being... a Death Eater.

Would... would it be possible that... all of them...

But she couldn’t warn anyone. Not Mr. Weasley, not her father, not anyone from the Ministry. As safe as the Durmstrang post was, such a letter would be easily intercepted, and even more so if someone was waiting for it. Because that list was unequivocally what the school’s Death Eater wanted to find at all costs.

She could try to communicate via her patronus, but she had refused to learn that spell from Dumbledore, not only because she had only managed to cast her patronus once in her life but because she considered it a dangerous way to send messages.

She read the list again, but none of the teachers appeared on the paper.

An unknown sound left her frozen in place. It wasn’t footsteps or voices, but like a crackling sound around her. No, it was as if someone was writing beside her; it was a sound of a quill on paper.

She instinctively took the scroll to her ear, and the noise became more evident.

She waited for a few seconds and out of nowhere, just below Gaspar Avery, a new name appeared that made her blood run cold.

Severus Snape.

Her breath was laboured, and a heavy sensation pressed against her chest. She looked around frantically, wondering what her next step might be. She did not want to leave the room behind, but she could not stay there long either.

She rolled up the scroll again and tucked it up her sleeve in a hurry. With one last look at Grindelwald’s belongings, she headed for one of the candlesticks to extinguish the flames. As she blew, all the lights went out.

She closed the door behind her and cast some protective incantations to make it at least more difficult to enter. She checked the doorknob twice and slipped through the shadows into the dead-end corridor.

The wall was cold to the touch, there was only stone, but there had to be a way out that did not go through the hapless maze that she had come from. She murmured ‘lumos’ and bent down to look for the mechanism that had opened the painting, but this time she was on the other side of the wall, so she had little hope.

She felt a buzz as she ran her hand along the bottom of the wall which intensified as she reached the third from the right.

Practically lying on the floor, she looked for a way to operate some mechanism that would open the door. By applying a little pressure, she could feel the ‘click’.

She thought she saw the wall light up suddenly, with a blue glow that disappeared in the second, but when she got up the wand had come near her face so she didn’t give it much importance.

Nothing.

What had made that sound?

When she touched the wall again, she thought it had been a fatal mistake: she felt a pull in her stomach and a force that pushed her forward. Her hands went through the wall first and touched something solid again, the painting, which as she continued to be consumed by the castle, opened up as she pushed it.

In less than a couple of seconds Nerida Vulchanova had spat her out of the bowels of her fortress and from the ground, relieved that she had not hit her head, she saw the waves that had been created on the stone as she passed solidify again. The painting closed and Nerida watched her from the heights.

“Thanks... I guess.” She said to the painting.

She crawled a little until she was leaning against the wall and massaged her arm. The hidden object burned against her skin. She had to go to her room immediately and hide it; or take it with her at all times; or say ‘thank you very much’ to Rhode and leave in the first carriage to London.

To her left was an armchair which promised to be much nicer than the floor, and she mustered the courage to get up to it.

Just when she had caught her breath, someone came through the door. The shelves prevented her from seeing who had entered, but she did see the figure standing at a display case.

Effectively putting her own feelings aside, Kate sensed contradictory feelings in the stranger; a deep sadness, helplessness, confidence, arrogance.

She stood up, alerting the intruder. The teacher’s long earrings swayed as she bowed her head.

“Miss Williams, what brings you here?” Yankelevich commented casually. Kate approached the teacher, not to engage in conversation, but to find out what she was looking at so gloomily.

“I like to come here. It’s a quiet place.” She glanced at the display case and read the plaque of the largest trophy there was. Lena Yankelevich.

“My sister. Magnificent seeker.”

Libor Marek came through the door creating a great din, and both witches turned around. Kate took advantage of that to go to the door and say goodbye quickly, without stopping to wonder why there were so many people in that room and with the name of her former potions teacher hammering into her brain.

[Part 15]

A/N: you have no idea how hard it was to write this chapter lmao.

Tag List: @am-i-space @eldritchscreech @cazreadsstuff @meteora-fc @the-navistar-carol

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #dursmstrang #kate williams

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