#But with all my education I can't seem to command it And the words are all escaping

[sleestakkkk]

pleaseeeee i am being very normal

[baronessvonglitter]

All Through the Night

Agent Whiskey x f! junior agent!reader

Word count: 4.4K

Summary: after it's made clear that you're not welcome as a Junior Agent for the Statesman organization, Whiskey takes you under his protection for an unforgettable night

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, mentor/mentee relationship, forbidden relationship, vandalism, nightmares, 'only one bed', first time, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, no use of y/n

JACK DANIELS MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

When you're first introduced to your mentor Agent Whiskey, you're not sure if you'll get along with him. With others he seems friendly, casual, laid-back, flirtatious even. But with you he takes on a sterner tone, as if he's closed off, and from the moment you're paired up as mentor and mentee, he treats you with nothing more than solemnity. Throughout your training he doesn't praise you as you honestly wish he would, just gives a curt nod, arms crossed, mouth set in a firm line, eyes giving nothing away.

It doesn't really help that you come from a rival agency, igniting all kinds of rumors. None of the other trainees get close to you. You find it pointless to try to change their minds. You've been alone most of your life, so why try to make friends now? Especially when you're in competition with each other.

You rise through the ranks quickly, an apt pupil and adroit agent. With each test you pass with flying colors, you expect something more from Jack Daniels himself to show he's proud of your progress, even just a smile, a pat on the shoulder, but he remains as unmoved as ever.

The day comes when you're given your official agent name, and in a flurry of excitement you rush to claim yours, only for your expression to turn quizzical when you hear what your new alias is. "What the hell is a Gimlet?" you finally ask as you burst into your mentor's office.

Jack glances up at you quickly, obviously in the middle of an important call, and tells the other line he'll call them back. You pick up on the ghost of a smile that passes his lips before he catches himself and turns serious again.

"Sorry," you tell him. "Is everything okay?"

He nods. "Classified information," is all he says. But you see the look of worry in his eyes, the way he casts his gaze upon you, you can't tell if he wants you to stay or needs you to leave.

"Was Gimlet your idea?" you accuse him, trying to lighten the mood.

"Nope. Wasn't my idea." As usual your heart does a triple beat at the sound of his deep voice, the Southern twang. Lately you've realized you've developed a little crush on him, but your education and your training are paramount at this point in your life. You can't be thinking about him this way, even though it's a hard feeling to suppress.

Uninvited, you sit on the edge of his desk, waiting for him to command you to get off. He doesn't. "Sounds like a Lord of the Rings character.. Gimlet.." you do a raspy little monster voice, and Jack crooks his eyebrow, looking like he wants to explode in laughter. "Sorry we can't all be as cool as Whiskey," you grin. "Oh, see that frown? Now that's what I call a Whiskey Sour."

He glares at you with mock severity and you take this moment to try to mess with him a little, to get him to open up.

"No-go on the Whiskey Sour, got it. How about 'Ten Gallon'? 'Billy the Kid'? 'Butch Cassidy?'" Teasing him is so much fun simply because you know he's an easy target, and it's as close as you've come to flirting with him.

He sighs in defeat. "You're thinking of 'Gimli.' From Lord of the Rings."

You shake your head, a smile bursting onto your lips. "Nerd."

"You really want me to lose this fight, don't you?"

"You've already lost, Roy Rogers." You playfully flick the brim of his hat.

A noticeable blush shows on his face as he straightens his hat, and as he clears his throat he adjusts himself in his chair. "So. You're using all the western ones, huh?"

"It's on theme, wouldn't you agree?"

He holds back a smirk. "Don't you have a codebreaking class to be in soon?" He stands up from his chair, adjusting his the waistband of his jeans, inadvertently drawing your attention to that area. Maybe you're imagining it, but it looks as though he's trying to hide the bulge evidencing his excitement.

Reluctantly you take the hint, getting off his desk. "So you're not going to tell me what that call was about? Shouldn't I be in the loop?"

Jack looks like he wants to spill the beans, his lips part as if to speak, and you can't help but imagine how soft those lips would feel against yours, what the slide of his tongue into your mouth would taste like. "All I can tell you is we're bumping up security on you. It's one of those 'the less you know, the better' type of deals, sweetheart."

It's the first time he's ever used a pet name for you and it sends the butterflies in your stomach in a frenzy. "Are you sure?" you ask, taking one more step towards him.

You hear him exhale, his dark brown eyes flickering with doubt. The moment between you feels like it could change everything. "I'm sure," he says at last.

You nod and start to leave, glad that at least a little progress had been made in that you got him to crack a smile.

"It's a cocktail," he says, and you turn back to look at him. "A gimlet.. it's made with gin, lime juice, and sugar."

A smile grows on your lips. "Sounds delicious.. but I really would prefer something cooler like 'French 75' or 'Absinthe.'"

"Adios, Junior Agent Gimlet.." Arms crossed, he signals it's time for you to skedaddle.

As you leave he can't help looking at your ass, the gentle sway of your hips. He's imagined all kinds of things since the day you were partnered with him, and he's managed to sequester those feelings from the way he's supposed to treat you. Times when you sought him out for his esteem, his recognition, he only fractioned it, hoping to keep the boundaries between you, make it easier on him to deny what he feels, but it's only made it worse.

Truth is, he's not only proud of you, but you've managed to get to him like no one has before. It's not just a protectiveness he feels towards you, but something deeper has grown. He hates to admit this to himself. And now, just before you made your animated entrance into his office, he was informed about a problem the agency was facing, one he couldn't share with you, at least not yet. Hell, even telling you to be careful would just set you on alarm, so he has to pretend everything is fine while you're unaware. While he's well aware you can handle your own, he just wants to keep you out of harm's way.

The rest of the day you can't help noticing that he's there, nearby. He's there when you're at lunch in the dining area, when you're studying in the library, when you're at weapons training. Not that you mind at all. You approach him towards the end of the day as you're headed back towards your dorm. "You're my security detail, aren't you?"

"You figured that out pretty quick."

"You're not exactly stealthy," you smirk.

"That stings, darlin'. But I'm not supposed to be stealthy. Just need to keep you safe."

"You're still not going to tell me why?"

He just shakes his head as he walks you to your room.

You sigh. "Are you going to stay out here all night? Like a guard or something?"

"If that's what I have to do."

It should bother you that you don't have much privacy, that your every move is going to be monitored. You assume it has something to do with your previous agency, but there's a small part of you that lacks the courage to address it. Looking at Jack, you wonder if he suspects you of wrongdoing, or if he's simply following orders.

"Good night then," you shrug. "Just remember: you'd be bored without me." Playfully sticking your tongue at him you slip inside your room.

"I'd go insane without you," he whispers just as your door clicks shut.

Not a few seconds later, he hears you calling his name, and he rushes inside to find you frozen, staring at your ransacked room. Upended furniture, your personal belongings thrown and scattered around. Drawers emptied and tossed aside. Your bed torn apart, your mirrors broken.

Questions form in your mouth but die on your lips. You have no idea who and even less idea of why. Jack immediately jumps into action, calling for a full sweep of the room for any evidence the intruder or intruders may have left behind. Meanwhile, feeling helpless, you stand out in the hallway, arms folded over your chest as the security team hurries in to investigate. You're asked to come in to check if anything was stolen, but seeing the few precious items you have still intact in your hiding place, you come to the conclusion that whoever did this was just out to scare you.

"Do they usually do things like this?" you mumble as Jack waits with you in the hallway. Some of the other junior agents are peeking out to see what's going on, and upon seeing your death glare they go back inside their dorms. "Seems petty to initiate someone by doing something so cruel."

"Sweetheart, I don't think it was no initiation," he says. "I'm pretty sure you don't think that either."

It finally catches up to you, the loneliness you've suppressed, the emotions you've had to swallow because you wanted your work to be your life. The friends you didn't make have now all turned to possible enemies. It's the loneliest feeling you've ever had.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," Jack tells you, and to your surprise he kisses your forehead. "I'm here. And I'm not letting you out of my sight."

You nod, grateful for his assuring words. "I thought I didn't care, but I just hate feeling so unwanted here," you swallow the tears that threaten to fall, having kept strong for so long.

Watching you like this is a dagger to his heart. You're usually so upbeat, so full of sass, and this incident bringing you this low really breaks him. He wipes your tears away. Your fear is normal, and even though he can't promise to remove it completely, he wants to at least make you feel a little better. "This is why I don't want.. just the thought of you being in danger.."

Your eyes grow wide as you stamp down the hope that he's speaking from anything more than a mentor standpoint. "Danger is what you're training me for.. why don't you want me near it?"

Jack clenches his jaw. He doesn't want to admit what goes against all rational thought, against all logic. He's protective because of how he feels about you. When did he become such a weak fool? He inhales and exhales slowly, hardening his features to hide his emotions. "I just don't like the thought of you getting hurt."

All you can do is absorb this information and store it away to think about another day. "I don't want to stay in there. The whole room feels.. violated." You cross your arms, shivering.

His mouth is dry as he asks, "Do you want to come spend the night in my room? It's safe, no one's getting in there. I'll keep watch the entire night."

Blinking, you grasp what he's offering. "Only if it's really okay with you."

"Your room is so you," you compliment, looking at the decor as Jack brings you inside his room. "Very masculine. Very John Wayne." The walls are decorated with buffalo prints and mounted longhorn steer antlers, and above you there are wooden ceiling beams, which draw your attention to the adobe fireplace in the corner of the room. Both woven and cowhide rugs lay at various places on the floor. You take from him the bundle of clothing and hygienic necessities you brought from your room and go into his restroom to quickly change and wash up for the night.

"So, where should I sleep?" you ask, emerging from the restroom.

"You take the bed," he says gruffly. "I'll take the sofa," he says, already making himself comfortable.

"You're sure?" You start to feel bad for disrupting his peace.

"Of course I'm sure. Where else you gonna sleep? The closet?"

You laugh a little, starting to feel more at ease. "In that case.." you tentatively climb into his bed, done in western prints, the headboard made of brown leather.

He watches you get into his bed. There's a certain gracefulness to the everyday action. Damn if everything about you doesn't arouse him. He has to take a deep breath to keep himself grounded. But it's his bed you're getting into, your skin touching his sheets, your head resting on his pillow. He clenches his jaw.

"Aren't you going to sleep?" you ask.

"I can stay awake all night if I have to. Make sure you're safe."

"Whiskey, you don't have to do that.."

A little smile crosses his lips. "Then I'll sleep once you're asleep."

"Once I'm asleep just get in with me. This is your room and I'm not going to kick you out of your own bed."

His heart beats double-time at your suggestion. There's no way she can possibly mean that he tells himself. "I'm fine here," he says, nearly choking on his words.

You nod against his pillow, which has his scent. "Well if you change your mind.. this mattress is heavenly." You close your eyes and shift your hips so you can lay on your side.

Damn it. That isn't something he needs to hear. He doesn't need your voice to sound so damn alluring like that. The way your hips roll as you shift position is sending his mind to places he doesn't need to go right now. He takes his eyes off you just to alleviate the flow of blood to his dick, which is already pretty hard.

It's late when he realizes you're finally deeply asleep. From where he rests on the sofa he watches you sleep, admires your beauty in the dim light of the room. He doesn't realize he's also fallen asleep until he hears you cry out in your sleep, your body tossing about. He jolts awake and goes to you, wraps his arms around you as if to shield you from your nightmares. "Sweetheart, wake up," he says gently. "I've got you."

You wake, shivering, your nightmare still looming large in your mind's eye until Jack's soothing embrace eases you back to reality. "It was so real," you mutter, taking a gulp of water from a glass that he offers you. "Would you.. would you get in with me? I just need to be held right now."

He hesitates only a moment before getting in on the other side of the bed. You slide over to make room, then scoot back towards him, allowing him to pull you close with his arm around you.

And damn it if he doesn't love the way you feel against him.

Not asleep yet, you let your body get into a comfortable place, basking in the warmth of his body, your hands resting on his, settled just below your chest. Without thinking about it, you trace the outlines of his fingers, his hands much larger than yours. His other hand is just above your hip, warm, pleasant.

Actually, 'pleasant' is too gentle a word to describe it. It's an intimate touch without being too forward. So many intrusive thoughts come to your mind. And in this rare moment of closeness, you let them win.

Closing your eyes you take a deep, silent breath as you take his hand from your hip and lead it lower, beneath the hem of your pajama shorts. Jack gives a little growl, indulging in the feel of your soft, smooth skin against his fingertips. "We shouldn't be doin' this," he whispers as his hand stills. You can feel the thumping of his heartbeat against your back. "We're breaking a lot of rules right now, just bein' here like this."

You can't help feeling a little guilty. You got yourself into this mess and all he did was try to pull you out. And now you were just a huge inconvenience, apart from also being a huge temptation. "No one would know but us," you tell him, turning on your side to face him. "I know you're my mentor, but I'm not a child. I want this."

He's quiet a moment, looking into your eyes, and for a moment you fear he will reprimand you, turn you down. It would be the worst embarrassment you can imagine. But then he leans in and kisses you, softly at first then with more pressure, and your lips part for his tongue as yours presses against his.

His hands make their way down your body, trailing across your skin as if you're the most delicate thing he's ever seen. Your hips rise up, inviting his touch, and damn it if he isn't ready to just rip your clothes off. Your body buzzes with exhilaration as Jack presses kisses down your neck, your chest, all the way down to give a kiss on your hip. "Is this okay?" he asks, breath shallow as his eyes search yours.

"Yes," comes your whimpering reply, and your breath hitches in your throat when he traces the border where your pajama shorts meet your thigh, and he slowly pulls them down. You arch your back, lifting your hips to help him, and your panties and shorts come off in one go as he slides them down your thighs until he removes them completely.

"I want to see all of you," he whispers, and you nod, pulling up your top, completely exposed to him. You watch him with wide eyes, awaiting his reaction.

Jack licks his lips, looking as though he could devour you. But he takes his time, his fingers slowly tracing up your torso, gently cupping your breasts and grazing his thumb across your nipples. Your sweet little gasp sends sparks firing in his eyes. "You're so sensitive to my touch," he whispers, as if witnessing a miracle. He laps his tongue over each bud, pursing his lips around it and groaning in need as you moan, lifting your hips to his. Even through his night clothes he can feel your heat, your moisture. "I need to taste you," he growls.

"Wait," you whisper. "I need to tell you.. I've never done this before."

This is something he doesn't expect. You always seem so sure of yourself, so direct in what you want, that he never would have thought you'd be inexperienced. "You really want me to be your first?" he asks, growing excited at the prospect of being with you.

"I want this.. with you," you assure him. "There's no one I trust more."

That's all he needs to hear from you. You're giving yourself to him, trusting him. "That means the world to me," he tells you. And with that, he doesn't hesitate. His hands move down your waist, across your hips and between your thighs. Spurred on by your shuddering sigh, he traces your slick folds with his fingertips until you beg him to finally touch you deeper. He eases two fingers in and out, his thumb tracing circular motions over you clit, barely restraining a growl as you eagerly clamp down on his digits. He watches, rapt, as you bite your lip to keep from moaning. He wants to give you more, to make you see stars while he's showing you what it can be like between lovers.

You feel like a god damn queen the moment he slips further down between your legs, gently raising them and getting himself settled. Heart hammering wildly, you gasp as you feel his tongue on your clit, gently sweeping over the sensitive flesh as he continues to work his fingers in and out. On a gasp your fingers grab his hair, causing him to growl and cup your butt with both hands as he resumes his attention on you, tongue flicking over your clit, along your folds, dipping into your crease, lapping up your sweet honey as if he's never going to have another meal ever again. Your blood grows hot and you're unable to even think of anything else but the burgeoning pleasure, and just when you think you might explode from need, the sweet, pulsing feeling takes over. You cry out loud, quivering as Jack makes you come.

He pulls away slowly once you're done, pressing gentle kisses on the insides of your thighs, working his way back up your body with his lips. "You okay there, darlin'? Need a minute to collect yourself?"

You nod, laughing a little, on the verge of giggles because your body has just experienced something so wonderful. "I'm good.. I'm perfect.." you manage to say, and there's a light in your eyes that affirms this.

"You are perfect, we are in agreement on that," he smiles, tucking a stray strand of hair away from your face, still flushed from your orgasm.

"Jack," you whisper, using his given name for the first time. "I'm ready.. I want you."

There's a delicious urgency as you help him remove his night clothes. His masculine build exceeds anything you have fantasized about him. His chest is broad with a sprinkling of light brown hair on his chest, and more of that curly hair leads from his navel down to his cock, which he encourages you to touch. It's thick, warm, heavy in your hand, growing more firm with each little stroke you give him.

You both have a need required to be met, but Jack wants to do this slowly, to build it up and make it the best possible experience for you. He has a strong desire to tear into you but he restrains himself, opting instead to kiss you softly, pressing himself to your warmth. He wants you to be a complete puddle for him to take care of once he's finished with you.

As he explores your body you explore his, running your hands over his muscled arms and back, savoring every part. You whimper as he pulls you closer, and your heart gallops. Before he loses himself in the moment, Jack reaches into his bedside drawer for a condom and carefully puts it on, then goes back to kissing you, gently nudging your thighs apart to make room for him. "If you want to stop, tell me," he says to you, and you reply with a kiss, eagerly bringing your body to his and he has no other thought in his head than to make you his once and for all.

Your eyes lock with his as he presses forward, easing himself in just a little at a time. Jesus, the pressure is so sweet, he's only an inch or so in and already he's stretching you. "I'm gonna take it easy with ya, cowgirl," he whispers, pulling out then easing back in, wanting you to be as wet as possible so you can take all of him. Your sweet, sharp little intakes of breath let him know you're feeling good, that you need more, and with each stroke he goes in deeper, until you're completely filled with him, as if you've needed him this way forever, as if you'd been born just to be his.

"You feel so good," you tell him, placing a kiss upon his neck, the skin of his throat rosy with the labor of holding back.

He sighs. eyes closed then open again because he wants to see you laid out beneath him this way. "God, you feel so right.." He moves his hips against you in slow, fluid movements, and in turn you take more of him into you, giving him a home within you. Jack's lips move over yours, then nuzzle your neck, tracing circular patterns over your breasts and back again, while your hands explore his broad shoulders, his brawny arms and the steady pacing of the pistoning of his hips driving against yours as the euphoria within your heart swells. "There's my good girl.. ah, such a tight fit.. but you're so nice and wet for me.."

"More," you gasp, nails lightly scratching on his back, and he gives you just that, taking your breath away as your bodies move together, quickly, towards your common goal. The electricity grows between you, the sweet, sweet friction doubles in your efforts, eliciting desperate moans and sweet gasps. Jack can feel the tension growing within you, the excitement building up to its greatest height. Jack whispers, "That's it, my sweet darlin', come for me.. oh I can feel you squeezin' all around me.." You whisper his name in a frenzy of desire, whisper it like a prayer as you feel the pleasure climb higher and higher. Without warning you shatter beneath him, crying out as you come.

Your sounds are the most divine music ever played. He can no longer hold back, gaining momentum as he brings himself to the tipping point, burying his face in your neck when he comes, releasing with a satiated exhale. You hold onto him, both of you trying to catch your breath, and you press a kiss to his shoulder. He looks up and smiles at you. "You doin' okay, darlin'?" he asks. His body is still but he remains inside of you, wanting to keep the feeling a little longer.

"I think I can die happy having experienced that with you," you sigh, tracing the outline of his jaw.

"You're too sweet," he shakes his head, grinning like a fool as he kisses your lips. "And I'd be more than happy to do that again and again.."

"Oh?" Your heart jumps for joy. "I suppose I could find time for that to happen," you tease him.

Jack smiles and nibbles on your neck. "Good, because I can think up a few other things to try."

You blush, despite still being naked and entangled with him. "What kinds of things?"

"Things like new positions, new places.. maybe once you're comfortable you'll let me tie you down and give you a little tease.." he smirks. "You know, just a few thoughts," he says casually with a gleam in his eye before kissing you gently.

"Holy hell," you whisper, utterly turned on again as you return his kiss. "I can't wait.."

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

[allthecastlesonclouds]

ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO BY FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE I'VE HAD IT ON LOOP

do you want a song that's been giving me jy kristen / krissandra vibes??

OBVIOUSLY!!!! (literally pls always send me songs pls pls pls pls)

[star-xxx1]

I read it is is a dark blog and I am in love with dark stuff. If it is okay, I would love to request Dark! Agatha and reader based in this concept ‘For Agatha, you are the love of her life. For you, she was the person who kidnapped you’

Can I be 🦖 anon?

Lucid Dreams

Dark! Agatha harkness x fem! reader

Warnings: Manipulation, magic use, being held against will? fingering, clit simulation, nicknames, abit of praise kink.

A/n: She's abit dark? I switched round the concept, abit i hope you don't mind, sorry this took so long for me to reply <3 and yeah ofc you can be 🦖 anon!

You lie next to your wife, tossing and turning, unable to shake the feeling that something is not quite right. The silence of the night weighs heavily on you, and your thoughts race through your mind, searching for answers to the uneasiness that is gnawing at you. You turn and shift, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing seems to help. Every little noise or rustle sends your heart thumping, and you feel yourself growing more and more anxious with each passing moment. You try to convince yourself that everything is alright, that you're just being overly sensitive, but the feeling of unease persists. Finally, you give up, and get up, making your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water, hoping that the change in scenery might help calm your nerves. You sip the water, trying to focus your thoughts, but still, the nagging feeling remains. Finally, you decide to go back to bed, hoping that sleep will help you shake off the feeling, but as you walk back to the bedroom, a thought occurs to you: what if this feeling is an omen, a warning of some sort, something that you cannot ignore? You pause for a moment, considering the possibility, before eventually dismissing the thought, telling yourself that you're just being overly dramatic and that there's nothing to worry about. Despite your efforts to reassure yourself, however, the sense of unease persists, haunting you even as you drift into a fitful sleep, your dreams overshadowed by the feeling that something is amiss.

You dream that you are lying asleep, completely paralyzed, and unable to move. Suddenly, you find yourself standing in a vast expanse of darkness, the only light coming from a glowing beacon above you. As you stare at the beacon, a godly figure begins to emerge, a shadowy silhouette slowly taking form. As the figure draws closer, you recognize it as yourself, only older, and wiser, and more powerful.

"Greetings, my friend," the older you said, her voice strong and commanding but calming, smooth like silk. "You have been chosen to receive guidance from one of the many versions of yourself in the multiverse. Listen well, my friend, as what I have to tell you is of the utmost importance."

With a snap of her fingers, the darkness dissipates, and you find yourself in a spacious library, filled with books and scrolls and all manner of knowledge, however you can't move. The older you educated you about the knowledge and history of the multiverse, the words spilling from her plump lips like a waterfall.

"What you seek is on the very fringes of the multiverse, beyond what you can comprehend," says the older you. "Agatha, the woman you love, has evil intentions. For Agatha you are the love of her life, but also her captive, For you she is also the love of your life but also your kidnaper. You have been blined by a powerful spell."

"She seeks to harness the power of the multiverse for her own ends, to take control and Manipulate everything to her liking, wherever you go you won't find the hex walls because you're constantly in it. She will stop at nothing to achieve her goal. You must stop her, my friend, before she brings about the end of all freedom."

And with that, the elder you disappear, leaving you standing alone in the library, the weight of her words weighing heavily on your shoulders.

You wake up, your heart pounding, your mind racing. The dream feels so real, so vivid, that you wonder if it could have been more than just a dream. And then you remember Agatha, your wife, lying peaceful and beautiful next to you, and you wonder if this is just another manifestation of your endless anxiety, or if there is something deeper and more sinister at play.

Your breath escape your mouth shallow and panicked, Aggie starts to stir eventually she turns to look at you, a swish of the hand turning on the bedside lamp. Her face is filled with concern, and you try to speak, to tell her about the visions you've just experienced, but the words catch in your throat, and you find yourself gasping for air. "What's wrong, my love?" Agatha asks, her voice filled with worry. You struggle to form the words, the dream still fresh in your mind, and finally, you manage to choke out, "Agatha, I had the strangest dream. It was like I was in a different universe, and a version of myself was telling me that you had evil intentions and you kidnapped me and you were manipulating me. And I couldn't move, Agatha, I was frozen." You rush out. Agatha's face falls, her expression becoming grim as she listens to your words. Finally, she speaks, her voice full of seriousness.

"That's just a stupid dream." She says abruptly and coldly. You stare at her, not knowing how to respond. Her face softens, and she pulls your distressed form into her, holding you tight. "Sorry baby, I just - you know my past with magic." She looked down at you with loving eyes. She placed a warm kiss on your forehead. Agatha can still tell that you're unsettled.

You felt Agatha's soft fingertips rest on your forehead, and immediately, a strange sensation washed over you. You felt tired and heavy, and before you knew it, your vision was filled with a swirling tunnel of purple light. The light got brighter and brighter until your eyes shut tightly, and you fell into a deep sleep. When you woke up, you felt disoriented and confused. You glanced at the clock and saw that it was now 2:00am. "Aggie, why am I up so late?" you asked, rubbing your eyes.

Agatha eyes were fixed on you. She looked concerned, but she also had a strange aura about her, as if she was hiding something from you. You looked at her, confused and conflicted. You trusted Agatha implicitly, and you knew that she would never do anything to hurt you.

You lay back down, still feeling dazed and confused. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing, hoping that sleep would come soon. But you couldn't.

"Aggie, I can't sleep." You whispered out.

"Let me help you, baby." She whispered into your ear, nibbling away at it.

The witches hand trailed down your stomach and into your panties. She kissed lovingly away at your neck as you squirmed at the electric touch. Her fingers find your sensitive clit slowly teasing the tender peral, her fingers gentle but insistent. You arch your back and cry out in pleasure.

"Shit." You gasped. She chuckled against your neck, her mouth working on the tender flesh, leaving deep red marks in the wake.

"Come on, doll, make those pretty like noise for me." Agatha's fingers rub harder against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as she feels you getting closer. "That's it, baby." Your moans now tumbled from your lips. Her fingers danced over the sensitive nub, teasing and taunting you. She leans in closer, her body flush against yours as she continues to torment your needy flesh, moving faster, driving you closer to the edge. Her free hand finds its way between your legs, sliding two fingers deep inside you, stretching you further as she teases your clit. Your body tenses and shudders under Agatha's ministrations as she brings you to climax. she can't help but revel in the power she holds over you.

Cumming hard, your pussy pulsing around Agatha's fingers as your juices coat her hand in a warm, sticky mess. Your body shook aggressively with pleasure, calling out her name as she helped you ride out your high. Her hands remereged from your panties. Licking them clean, moaning at the delightful tase of your essence. Gently stroking your hair, her eyes looked at you filled with affection and desire. She moved your limp body against her, your face pushed into her breasts, your favourite place, and wrapped her arms tightly around you.

"You did so well." She praised, kissing your lips in the most sweet, gentle manner and you smiled to yourself, eyelids falling heavy. You soon fell asleep in the arms of your lover, secure and happy. And as you do, Agatha's mind races with thoughts of betrayal. She feels no guilt or remorse for what she has done

Stripping you of your agency and replacing your memories with a false reality. She doesn't care about the ethics or morality of her actions, only the result: to keep you safe and by her side, no matter what. In the darkness of the night, Agatha's face is filled not with joy but with a twisted sense of determination. She is willing to cross any line, to do whatever it takes, to keep you by her side. You are hers, now and always, and she will do anything to keep you from leaving. Whatever was in that 'dream' was a threat to this false world, and she was going to find it and destroy it. What can she say? Wanda did teach her well about the mutliverse.

[mamawasatesttube]

lois <3

"all this and heaven too" by florence and the machine <3 do you think about lois struggling to understand herself and her own feelings because she just never actually expected herself to fall in love but superman, but clark, inspires her to be a better person in ways she never thought possible. and she can't even put it into words. yeah.

And the heart is hard to translate It has a language of its own It talks in tongues and quiet sighs In prayers and proclamations In the grand deeds of great men and the smallest of gestures In short shallow gasps But with all my education I can't seem to command it And the words are all escaping, and coming back all damaged And I would put them back in poetry if I only knew how I can't seem to understand it

[swirlingyouintomypoems]

AND THE HEART IS HARD TO TRANSLATE IT HAS A LANGUAGE OF IT'S OWN IT TALKS IN TONGUES AND QUIET SIGHS AND PRAYERS AND PROCLAMATIONS IN THE GRAND DAYS OF GREAT MEN AND THE SMALLEST OF GESTURES IN SHORT SHALLOW GASPS BUT WITH ALL MY EDUCATION I CAN'T SEEM TO COMMAND IT AND THE WORDS ARE ALL ESCAPING AND COMING BACK ALL DAMAGED AND I WOULD PUT THEM BACK IN POETRY IF I ONLY KNEW HOW I CANT SEEM TO UNDERSTAND IT AND I WOULD GIVE ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO I WOULD GIVE IT ALL IF ONLY FOR A MOMENT THAT I COULD JUST UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF THE WORD YOU SEE CAUSE IVE BEEN SCRAWLING IT FOREVER BUT IT NEVER MAKES SENSE TO ME AT ALL AND IT TALKS TO ME ON TIP TOES AND IT SINGS TO ME INSIDE IT CRIES OUT IN THE DARKEST NIGHT AND BREAKS IN THE MORNING LIGHT BUT WITH ALL MY EDUCATION I CANT SEEM TO COMMAND IT AND THE WORDS ARE ALL ESCAPING AND COMING BACK ALL DAMAGED AND I WOULD PUT THEM BACK IN POETRY IF I ONLY KNEW HOW I CANT SEEM TO UNDERSTAND IT AND I WOULD GIVE ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO I WOULD GIVE IT ALL IF ONLY FOR A MOMENT THAT I COULD JUST UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF THE WORD YOU SEE CAUSE IVE BEEN SCRAWLING IT FOREVER BUT IT NEVER MAKES SENSE TO ME AT ALL AND I WOULD GIVE ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO I WOULD GIVE IT ALL IF ONLY FOR A MOMENT THAT I COULD JUST UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF THE WORD YOU SEE CAUSE IVE BEEN SCRAWLING IT FOREVER BUT IT NEVER MAKES SENSE TO ME AT ALL NO WORDS AND POOR LANGUAGE IT DOESNT DESERVE SUCH TREATMENT AND ALL MY STUMBLING PHRASES NEVER AMOUNTED TO ANYTHING WORTH THIS FEELING ALL THIS HEAVEN NEVER COULD DESCRIBE SUCH A FEELING AS IM HEARING WORDS WERE NEVER SO USEFUL SO I WAS SCREAMING OUT A LANGUAGE THAT I NEVER KNEW EXISTED BEFORE

[valle-de-sombra-de-muerte]

Homestuck Reread: Act 2, Part 1/3 (p. 249-439)

Read the previous post here.

From this point on, these successive Act breakdowns will be spread across multiple posts. Act 1 is easily the shortest Act at 248 pages, so I was able to fit everything in one post. I think I just barely made it under the image limit. Anyway, let's move right along to Act 2.

I didn't discuss Rose's character in the last post, so I think this is a good time to talk about her. She strikes me as a bit of a "gifted kid" that was always ahead of her peers in terms of academics. She's bookish and more educated than her friends, a fact that she flaunts by utilizing her robust vocabulary and making allusions that go over other peoples' heads.

She must love having a dullard like John as a friend. He's too dumb to cotton onto her pretentious, ridiculous metaphors. She can act like a pseud all she wants and he'd never question it. He just sees big words, assumes she's talking about something far beyond his understanding, and laughs it off. To him, she just comes across as very smart, which is precisely the image of herself she wants to cultivate for others. Having someone like that in her close friend group must give her immense validation.

This GameFAQs guide is a great showcase of her big ego. She uses multiple paragraphs full of unnecessary verbiage to deliver a simple introduction. "My introduction will be sparse" my ass! Imagine trying to scour through this while meteors are crashing down all around you. Even though nobody who reads this is going to survive, she still insists on making a big spectacle of things and flexing her skills as a writer.

And yet, she's so secretive of her private writings, refusing to let the reader even look at them. Her persona of being a highbrow intellectual obsessed with psychoanalysis is all a facade, something she uses to conceal her genuine interests (wizards and fantasy).

I guess what I'm trying to say with all this is that even though Rose comes across as garrulous and self-important, she's still a more fleshed out character than John.

I severely dislike these little walk-around segments. Normally I'm a fan of point-and-click adventure games, but this feels so clunky and not fun to move around in. You explore them the first time and have no inclination to do so ever again. I can't even find any worthwhile dialogue clicking on any of the objects. It's a waste of time. I'm glad there's only one other page like this later on before Hussie switches to the "Alterniabound" design.

Rose exposits this fantastical scenario John has found himself in, as well as the impending danger threatening the rest of the world. All he has to say about it is "wow, ok." I can't deal with this kid, man. He must've been lobotomized shortly after birth or something.

He has more of a reaction to Rose seemingly forgetting his birthday than to any of the other crazy shit currently happening. He doesn't even thank her for helping to save his life. This reread is really making me hate John.

John seems to draw the line at following potentially life-threatening commands. Though I somehow think this has more to do with WV having gained control of the command console at this point in the story. Unlike Rose or the reader, WV has a very rude and authoritative way of typing commands that upsets John. I wonder if he'd have less reservations crossing the catwalk if Rose told him to do it.

Here's the beginning of the "Fedorafreak Saga" where this man is shown to survive the cataclysm brought on by Sburb. It's kind of a fun little diversion, but there's no real payoff to it.

"especially ethnic wedding" is another crazy Rose quote. Also this GameFAQs guide continues to be incredibly word-dense and not at all conducive to helping players succeed in this literal life-or-death scenario. Especially when they're on a time limit.

For narrative purposes, it's just info-dumping all the technicalities of the various Sburb mechanics. It really isn't worth reading, in my opinion. The game mechanics might be one of the least interesting parts of Homestuck to me. I don't want to get bogged down reading about how an alchemiter works.

Besides, we saw all these mechanics in action during Act 1; it's unnecessary to read about all of it again. This sort of thing should be reserved for supplemental material, not as a part of the work itself.

Dave be spittin' bars here. I don't think enough acknowledgement is given to Dave's rhymes. I think they're pretty funny. I'd like to hear someone actually rap them over a beat.

Dave continues to make reference to his and Rose's flirting. John is tired of hearing about it.

needleKind might be a contender for the dumbest kind abstratus since knitting needles aren't even sharp. I wonder if Hussie was even aware of that. Probably not or else he wouldn't have included that "filet a sword fish" line.

All the creature entries in the Grimoire are funny, but this one takes the cake. Every sentence here is gold.

This is a nice passage that I like a lot. It seems to relate to Rose's quest to "play the rain" later on in the story. I'll talk more about it when I reach that part, but it was always a part of the story that I wanted to see come to fruition and it burned me that it never did.

However, reading this passage and noting how it actually does foreshadow Rose's reluctance and ultimate failure to play the rain does help ease the sting a little bit. It is thematically relevant to Rose's character for her to put on this grandiose display of competence only to fumble when put on the spot. She's a kid who's way in over her head, something that applies to many of Homestuck's characters.

Unfortunately, it's capped off with the fourth instance of this dumb misattributed quote gag. The Charles Barkley detail is part of another running gag where all the kids are associated with a black celebrity, Charles Barkley in Rose's case. It's weird and I don't get it.

Dave swoops in from nowhere and interrupts Rose's scene to do his intro. Like Rose, he also disobeys the reader's commands, going so far as to slice apart the text box when the joke name is typed in. (Insufferable Prick... now where have I heard that before?)

(Rose's joke name "Flighty Broad" was also based on a line Dave called her before).

Dave's interest in photography and dead things don't manifest nearly as often as his love of rapping and music. He specifically likes obscure bands because he's a hipster doofus. Funnily enough, I don't see as many people call him a hipster as often as they do to other characters like say, Eridan.

Dave never does bleat like a goat by the comic's end, does he?

Dave, despite outwardly acting like an aloof jackass most of the time, really does care about his friends. I think that's part of the reason he's always been my favorite out of the kids.

I love that Clubs Deuce just flails about uselessly when the Midnight Crew are all beating the shit out of each other.

In Dave and Rose's first pesterlog, Rose immediately suggests Dave might be gay because he's been ignoring her. Unlike John, Dave is able to keep up with Rose's repartee and the results are some of the better written pesterlogs in the whole comic.

I love the chemistry between these two so much. Dave is less cerebral than Rose, but he's just as intelligent. He's able to see past her shit and challenge her instead of being awed by her intellect. She in turn also sees right through his own mask of "irony" and tries to poke holes in it.

Their friendship seems the strongest out of the whole group; Dave even mentions that he knows who's messaging him before he checks the Pesterchum window. In previous conversations with John, he acts as though Rose is a nuisance and that she's always bugging him, but here we see them get along very well.

For Rose's part, Dave isn't some sycophant or a dupe who's swayed by her way with words. He's someone she can respect, someone who can match her mentally, and someone who loves typing out over the top metaphors just as much as she does. It's likely refreshing for her to be around someone like that, which is why she's always pursuing him for conversation.

Ah, I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to further gush about these two as I progress through the story. For now, let's keep moving.

Oh don't worry, she'll hold you to that promise.

Rose responds to Dave's earlier interruption with one of her own and we're back to her perspective again. Even meta-textually, they go back and forth with each other.

For an aspiring psychoanalyst, Rose is quick to dismiss the idea that her mother's behavior is motivated by anything except spite. Rose's mom knows her daughter loves wizards, so she buys all this wizard memorabilia in the hopes it'll make her happy. Rose, refusing to believe her mom feels genuine love toward her, twists these gestures into ones of malice and mockery. Teenagers, am I right?

This is similar to how John's dad displays all that harlequin junk in the house to please his son, even though John can't stand any of it. Parents not understanding their children is a classic theme in Homestuck.

Rose acting utterly deranged in response to her mom's sincere, albeit excessive, displays of affection.

Dave's conversation with Jade is void of all the wit and chemistry present in his talk with Rose. Here he strips himself of his sardonic, crude side because he is a dumb teenage boy fawning over the "nice girl" to get in her good graces.

Jade is just... I don't think I can put off talking about her for much longer. Perhaps in the next post I'll explain my gripes with her character.

I'm not sure what to make of Mom Lalonde's "ironic negligence" where she offers Rose her martini. Is she playing into Rose's idea of her as an incompetent mother, or is she just that drunk right now?

I don't think that Mom is the perfect parent, mind you. She does come across as emotionally distant and constantly intoxicated. To compensate for that, she showers Rose with gifts, which isn't exactly a good substitute for proper parenting, well-intentioned as it may be.

Mom isn't perfect, but she's trying. Rose's insistence that she's some kind of spiteful, passive-aggressive mastermind is pure delusion on her part.

Dave trusts Rose enough to tell her that he doesn't like his brother's puppets as much as he lets on. Very interesting for someone who is so hesitant to drop his mask around others.

Also, Rose reveals that she likes his brother's puppet porn websites.

Oh no! Yeah, really selling that distress, John.

He has a bigger negative reaction to being told to eat some cookies than he does to finding out his father had been kidnapped. If I was in Rose's place, I'd be losing my mind.

In this first third of Act 2, it still suffers from the same PS-esque jokes and video game references. John is still aggravatingly dull and his conflict with WV is unfunny and interrupts the pace.

But the stakes are also getting higher, the plot is progressing, and the cast is expanding with two much stronger characters. Overall, I think this is a step up so far.

Read the next post here.

[bardic-perdita]

4, 20, 29 for the angst asks! for all the fellas

Thank you for the asks! These were some of my favourite to answer >:3c

Ask list from here:

Answers below the cut:

Does your OC have nightmares? What do they contain?

Breoch does have nightmares. The ones that truly terrify him are recollections of his death at Varna's hands. As a drow, his dreams would be vivid as he trances just deep enough to remain lucid, but not enough to wake. He would be subjected to the same powerlessness, the same pain, the same vision of his empty ribcage again and again and again. It would haunt him in his waking hours until he eventually accepts the truth of what happened and believes himself capable of genuine affection again.

Shrike's nightmares are amorphous and strange. They're presumably memories, but they're grotesque apparitions without substance. They can't seem to grasp at their meaning and are soon forgotten once they wake up. But the uncertainty always remains and they fear that their dreams hold more truth than they can admit.

Zeke rarely dreams at all. Given his history, his sleep should be overrun by a million and one horrific scenes of suffering, but he doesn't. His patron shields him from all that. It's why he finds the dream guardian so fascinating; Zeke hadn't had a dream in decades before 'the guardian' came along.

How does your OC sleep at night?

Answered here

Why does your OC have the flaws that they have?

Ooh, I do like this question.

Breoch's flaws are all the result of his pride. Whilst his family don't really care about status, Breoch's paternal grandmother (whose son married into the family) sowed the seeds of ambition in Breoch's mind whilst he was very young. Breoch was convinced that he needed to improve the House's rank to protect his family. Unlike other drow noblemen, Breoch was a powerful sorcerer, innately charming, highly educated, and carried himself with a confidence usually only reserved for Lolth's daughters. At first, his pride protected his dignity and made him cautious. Although it didn't take long for hubris to blind him to his initially selfless motivations, and the very love he sought to protect became his greatest tool for manipulation.

Most of Shrike's flaws derive from their being a bhaalspawn. However, the greatest of these are all the result of their unwavering love for their mother. She raised them, accepted them, and loved them unconditionally. The blind loyalty Shrike should have held for their divine father was directed to the mortal woman that raised them instead. It was her tenderness that taught Shrike how to be kind. It was her humility that drove Shrike to become strong enough to protect her.

Shrike's love for their mother was the reason they became a paladin to hunt down those that were blackmailing her. The fear of making her cry was the reason they resisted becoming the mindless slayer Bhaal wanted. And it was the realisation that 'The Absolute' would kill their mother too that ultimately made them defy Gortash's grand plan, and resulted in their fall from Bhaal's grace at Orin's hand (most likely at Gortash's command).

Zeke's flaw is that he is naïve. He's not naïve as a result of ignorance, rather he is so intimately familiar with the depth of cruelty mortals are capable of that anything less than pure malice seems acceptable by comparison. His biological parents denied him any human compassion, so a friendly devil actually taking the time to talk to him is really nice! His moral compass is so thoroughly skewed after a lifetime in Maladomini, that even the most basic human decency is enough to secure his unfaltering loyalty. No matter how awful something is, chances are he's experienced or witnessed something worse.

[fallout4-reacts]

Anonymous asked:

Ok so this is less of a request and more of a thought to consider. It bothers me that Danse doesn’t really comment on vertibirds going down/crashing/finding dead brotherhood in the commonwealth. It also bothers me that Hancock doesn’t really say much during the synth quest in Diamond City. Idk I feel like there’s a lot of potential dialogue that’s missing. Like Preston commenting on a settlement that’s been “improved” (hit all requirements for water, food and defense) should also be a thing.

do you have any ideas for potential dialogue that’s missing from the game? Again, not a request so don’t feel like you need to write anything, but just a good for thought.

Titan quest part 3! (Part 1 - 2 )

So, I'll end this post quickly in order to get back to taking care of others ask who are waiting

I hope you are not disappointed; sadly, I had very few ideas…

Perhaps playing Fallout again will bring some to me I'll take note of it and possibly write another post on it later.

So, for the time being, The Conclusion

Cait - Curie - Deacon - Piper - Preston - Strong - X6-88

Cait : "Hey Cait, let’s take a nice walk to Nuka-World, where I’ll be the Overboss and I’ll beat strangers in an arena, enslave people..." You know?

"Stop immediately!"

“Cait?”

“Ya filthy traitor!”

“Cait?!”

“How dare ya?”

"Could you please calm down and explain why you are so angry?"

“Raiders! You've risen to the position of raider Overboss!"

"Let me relate you that funny story—

“No! I'm not interested! What are you thinking? You enslaved them!"

"They were evil people..."

"So you're now deciding who gets to live freely or not?"

"It wasn't that; it was strictly for business..."

"I told you everything, everything, everything. The fact that I was sold as a slave and that my life was a living horror. You seemed like a kind person to me. And now I see you putting those awful necklaces around other people necks like they're cattle! Would you have put the necklace around my neck in the past, in those days, claiming that I'm a wicked person, that I don't have the right to my freedom?"

"...It isn't the same."

"Would you really know the difference between a lost and violent drug addict fighting in a ring for raiders?"

Sole finds nothing to reply this time, frozen on the spot and unable to add a word.

"You couldn't have done it. Right now, you can't see someone you're putting a necklace on. I'm not going to kill you in the name of what we shared, because you helped me. But I'm leaving now, and I hope to never cross your way again. Because if I see your filthy, hypocrite face again, I'm going to blow it open, catcha?"

Sole looks, a weight of lead in the heart, as the one they had learned to consider a friend walk away. They realize how wrong they were, but they feel it's too late.

Curie (romanced): Okay, seriously, here I am, doing what many others have had to do, in some ways. It’s a one-in-a-hundred chance, but still, after going all the way around the bazaar, Curie is offered a place in a hospital (clinic?). Okay, some people must have decided to retain her as a companion, but she's not the most interesting element. Probably more appealing than very practical. It’s a command; Curie is assigned to a medical counter, and that’s it! But I'd like to picture a tiny scenario based on my fanfiction, even if I didn't touch on Curie's entrance in "her" hospital at this moment (precisely).

"Here, Curie, I'm not sure if I can help you much further in your quest to discover and study the world, but I think we could kill two birds with one stone if you stayed as chief physician at this new hospital in Sanctuary; your medical knowledge will be useful to both locals and transients. It's a settlement that is quickly gaining traction in the Commonwealth. You should encounter enough individuals and situations to further your education and insights."

The synth stands with her hands clasped against her chest, her gaze gleaming, turning her head from one side to the other, detailing the thick glass structure that was erected at the settlement's gates.

"Sole! That’s! That is incredible! That is stunning! That's incredible!"

"We made an effort to make the place look pleasant. I tried to make it as bright as possible so that you don't feel imprisoned up again like in this vault, as I had considered for some time to attribute it to you."

Curie's voice chokes in her throat as she barely holds back a sob.

"I'm not sure what's going on with me. It’s… It's like when you began slipping into my thoughts repeatedly, but I vibrate; it's as if tickles were flowing through my entire body. Everything seems to be pulsating. What is going on with me?"

"I believe it's excitement. A high amount of elation. You are overjoyed."

Curie's expression darkens, and she shakes her head and frowns.

"I see. Happiness. I thought I'd found it with you."

"You've found happiness in your relationship, but you're more than that. You have your own set of objectives and desires. A complete human cannot exist exclusively on the happiness and aspirations of another. He requires his own accomplishments."

"My... achievement is becoming a doctor for the new Sanctuary Hospital."

"It appears, based on how lit up you are."

Curie's brows raise in surprise, and her mouth makes an o.

"Did I light up? Is that a human ability? I was completely unaware!"

"It's a way of speaking" that Sole enjoys. "I mean, it seems obvious that you're happy."

"Oh, I see. Yes, I'm overjoyed right now."

Deacon : There are several. So many opportunities were squandered. As much in his interacts with other companions as everywhere else in the game. But I'd like to use a glitch because it's really noticeable (and funny).

"Deacon!"

"What?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"What?"

"You're... you're NUDE!"

The spy glances down at his attire and sees he has no one.

"Oh, you mean that? How do you feel about the suit? It's for me to dress up like Adam!"

"It isn't a disguise! It's nakedness!"

"You don't read the Bible. It's a disguise, truer than life; it's the most obnoxious disguise I could find to wear that day when I was dealing with a swarm of hot Amazons on a deserted island east of Boston."

"There have never been any Amazons on a desert island east of Boston."

"They were stunning! But here they were, killing all the people who dared to wear garments in front of their eyes, a religious thing, I reckon."

"You talk away from being naked."

"So they had this tall woman leading them. She was so huge that she was able to peer at the super-mutant from above. I've personally saw her spanking a super mutant on her lap.

"This is getting out of hand."

"Super-mutants were tolerated in this woman's society because they often just wore loincloths. Outfits truly irritated them."

"You.are.still.nude."

"I don't remember why; I think it has something to do with the fact that we come into the world without clothing, so we don't have to wear clothes so as not to offend the life that created us like this."

"Get yourself dressed!"

"It will be your fault if we get harassed by the Amazons of the desert island of East Boston."

Piper : The scoop of the century! The second. Sole infiltrated the Institute and came back. Piper CANNOT ignore that Sole is in contact with the DIRECTOR of the INSTITUTE.

"Sole, can we talk?"

"My personal favorite reporter!"

Sole comes to a halt in the alley leading to Home Plate, their gaze settled on Piper.

"What exactly do you want to talk about?"

"The Institute."

At the very least, she's not going in circles. Sole becomes uneasy as they anticipate what will follow.

"Okay, so what's going on?"

"You have to get me an interview with the director—

"Shaun, my son..."

"The director of the most heinous and secretive organisation ever to be born in the Commonwealth! Blue! I must have this interview!"

Sole looks around for a loophole but can't find one.

"Piper, I wish I could give you what you're asking for; you've been so nice and helpful to me. But I'm afraid I can't. Only I have access to the Institute. I'm not sure what they'd do if I helped you infiltrate them. And since you want to interview the director, it won't go ignored."

"Please ask him to give me this interview! According to what you said, he claims to be acting for the sake of humanity and its future. He'll want to spread the word about his vision, won't he?"

With her looks, the reporter backs Sole up, daring them to contradict her. Sole lets out a long sigh.

"All right, I'll ask him the next time I see him. But I can't promise you anythi—

Piper, overcome with excitement, jumps around her friend's neck.

"MANY THANKS! This is going to be the interview of the century! Of the millennium! Exclusive: The Great Boogeyman justifies himself!"

Sole would like to object and tell Piper that it is not done, but they would rather walk away while Piper is lost in her own vision of the future, gazing bright and bursting with excitement.

Preston : This situation can only arise if Sole is General of the Minutemen AND Brotherhoods of Steel.

"Sole! We need to talk! Now!"

"Preston? "You appear... upset."

The man is normally as composed as an Olympian. He recognises his state of mind and takes a deep breath to recover control of his nerves.

"I'm sorry, General. I... I lost it for a moment. But we need to discuss; it's critical."

Sole tries not to think about the lengthy journey they've taken or the bed that awaits them in a remote area of their home. They keep their anguish hidden and devote their entire attention to the man who truly gave birth to them when they landed in the Commonwealth.

"What exactly is it?"

"The Brotherhoods..."

Sole can't stop rolling their eyes. That was something they was expecting. Everyone around them is hesitant to pledge allegiance to the military organisation on many reasons.

"What, the Brotherhoods?" they inquire a little too bluntly.

"You have allied with the Brotherhoods of Steel!"

Sole closes their eyes and blows hard. They didn't have much patience today, and this kind of debate may sap what little they had left.

"Come on, Preston. Get to the point. I just busted a Super-Mutant camp, I'm filthy, exhausted, and I don't know if there's a muscle in my body that doesn't ache."

"The Brotherhoods appeared in the Commonwealth as if they owned everything; they drove the roads—

"And protect the civilians..."

"And grab any and all technologies they can find!"

The vault dweller cannot help but be astonished this time. They had no idea that, of all the things that could be put against the BoS, Preston would bring this up.

"Uh, what are you getting at?"

"Look, I haven't done much travelling outside of the Commonwealth, but I've met a lot of people who have. In comparison to other societies on the continent, the Commonwealth has effectively remained in the Stone Age. When major cities have risen from the ashes on the west coast, we are still attempting to establish viable settlements. While huge corporations have established themselves elsewhere, our caravan system is primary and inadequate. We have almost no high-profile clinics, let alone hospitals, yet huge health centers may be found in other places. We erect pumps with duct tape and rusted pipes while in the Capital they have cleaned water reservoirs! But, slowly and steadily, we are constructing something. Thanks especially to you, Sole. Every day, every week, we the opportunity to build new communities that are safer and more equipped than ever before. But, in the long term, the Brotherhoods will have crushed our best opportunity of making a real change if they continue to seize all of the technology that rightfully belong to Bostonians! They deploy their advances to take ours as we struggle to shake ourselves up and stand up! They are mortgaging future breakthroughs for future generations even before we are aware of the possibility! This is intolerable!"

Sole doesn't know what to say about it. To claim they hadn't considered it is a far cry from describing where they are. While they had always considered the Brotherhoods' efforts as a helpful means to safeguard the people from anything that could jeopardize their future, they now realize that their fixation with collecting the technologies of the past had the opposite effect on the future. And they are acutely aware that there is little to prevent this looting in its purest form.

Strong : We've been with Strong for a long time; he's a powerful and unique companion, but his personal mission never progresses. Okay, we know the Milk of Human Kindness doesn't exist, but it has been misleading this unfortunate Super-Mutant who blindly follows us from the start. At some time, far beyond all occurrences, after a few months of following all of Sole's whims and following them everywhere, Strong may probably come to realize that things are not moving forward. As a result, he should confront Sole.

"Human! Stop!"

"What's going on, my great friend?"

"Puny human thinks Strong stupid. Strong follow human, respect human, help human. But Human lies to Strong."

Soole wide-eyed in surprise. They finally comes to a halt and turns to face their merry green giant companion.

"I believe we have a major problem. You must explain, because I have no idea when I lied to you."

"Human Kindness Milk. Humans do not seek. Human not wanting to help Strong."

Oh shit, Sole thinks. Indeed, they had never ventured to explain to Strong the struggle this pursuit was, hoping that it would die out on its own.

X6-88 : A Courser’s mission is to bring the escaped synths back to the Institute

"Nick," Sole greats the detective as they return to Diamond City.

"Sole," he reply to his great pal.

X6 examines the Synthetic before turning to Sole.

"Ma'am/Sir, we need to stop and extract this element."

Nick and Sole exchange glances. Nick wishes to object, but Sole raises their hand.

"X6, you can't...stop Nick and...extract him out."

"It is imperative to adhere to the Institute's course of action and report on any stray elements. This element is obviously a fugitive, and we have an obligation to return it to the Institute immediately."

"No, you can't do that."

"This version may be outdated and deficient—

"You know what the outdated and deficient version says!" 

—but we owe it to the institute to report it as soon as possible."

Sole sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of their nose, feeling a migraine surge to their brain.

"Look, X6, we're not at the Institute, and we haven't gotten any specific orders about this element. Furthermore, as you indicated, it's out of date—

"You know what he tells you about the past date!"

—and won't be relevant to the Institute's needs."

"Orders are orders."

"You must also follow my commands. It is not possible to bring this old version back to the Institute!"

Nick adds, growling in his beard, "You know what the old version tells you."

X6 pauses, clearly caught up in a conflict of interest. He must obey Sole, but he must also obey the Institute's directions. He has no idea how to react to the circumstance. He is unsure of what he should do. His brain strives to process all the data, facts, directions, and laws behind his marble face and fixed gaze covered by his sunglasses.

Nick and Sole, realizing the Courser has been frozen in place, decide to let him consider what has just been said. Meanwhile, they're on the hunt for holotapes.

[doggonebookshop]

Author Spotlight: L.S. Kilroy

It goes without saying that if we {meaning Finni and I, the Proprietress} at the bookshop like a book, we will probably like the author as well. We clearly want to know how they got involved in writing and what inspired them to create their story. Well, we really liked the Vitruvian Heir, and it seems very apropos to our current political climate despite having been written years ago. Therefore, here is our author spotlight on L.S. Kilroy.

How does she describe herself? L.S. Kilroy is an irreverent sort of person who likes to write about things. Growing up an asthmatic only child in a neighborhood of geriatrics, she made friends with books at a young age because she had to – luckily, she also really liked them. Early exposure to the classics fueled her own writing. At fifteen, a man in a bookstore asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up and she replied, “Writer,” without hesitation.

What's your educational background? [I] hold a Bachelor’s degree in English from Merrimack College and a Master’s degree in Writing, Literature & Publishing from Emerson College. 

What is the best thing about being a writer? The best thing about being a writer is the freedom to create whatever I feel like creating. And I think the potential to tell stories that shed some light on the human condition, that reflect social issues, that make people think and inspire a dialogue is, for me, what literature has always been about. People may think it's all just words and that writing is a secondhand experience and reading is an even more removed experience, but I really believe in the transformative effect of books...I mean, if books had no power, ignorant people wouldn't burn them, right?

How do you deal with writer's block? I embrace it. If I can't write, then I stop worrying about it and live my life. Inspiration always comes back.

Where did you get the idea for [The Vitruvian Heir]? When I was a sophomore, my history teacher was telling us about the time when Catherine de’ Medici ruled the French court. She had a group of beautiful female spies called the Flying Squadron (L’escadron Volant), whom she recruited to seduce important men in court and then report back to her. My fifteen-year-old self took this fascinating lesson and formed an idea for a new story. What if a future version of the United States had somehow come under the control of an emperor who commanded that everything be returned to the Victorian and Edwardian periods – women were stripped of rights, had to wear corsets, etc.? And what if, there was a woman who was running this underground circle of female spies trained to extract information from powerful men? What if she was planning a coup? What if she sent her best girl in to charm the emperor himself? But then the girl falls in love with him…That was my teenage sensibility. That story was eventually discarded along with its bedfellows somewhere between high school and college. Then, a couple of years ago, when women’s rights issues were heavy in the media, the germ of this idea resurfaced and became [the book].

The Vitruvian Heir is the first book in the trilogy. I encourage you to start there and continue on to its final conclusion. Make sure to place L.S. Kilroy on your favorite author list.

This interview was reproduced from member questions and answers by the author on Goodreads. Some responses have been edited for clarity and length only.

[shiawasekai]

1, 2, and 7 for the mechanics asks?

Thank you for the asks! Let's answer these for Nela before i fall asleep.

What led the future Knight-Commander to take their base class?

Now, for this there is the meta reason and the in-character reason.

At a meta level, Nela is designed around playing an Arcanist. It was the whole entire point and everything else was chosen around the idea of making one. There is no Nela without this class, if I had chosen any other of the options I had considered the character would have been someone else altogether. Arcanist isn't something you can take from her.

As far as IC reasons go: Nela's drive to learn and her fascination with magic go deep and from a very early age. She was, however, not educated as an Arcanist and instead the people around her insisted in training her as a sorcerer. It wasn't until she joined Nethys' congregation in a rebellious teen outburst that she found her mentor, an arcanist who took her under her wing and finally gave her the knowledge and the tools she has sought all along.

Being an arcanist is a key part of her identity and her pride. A path she chose for herself.

2. What led to the Knight-Commander picking their archetype, or staying the standard class?

Nela is a Brown-Fur Transmutter, which at a meta level is because I was trying very desperately to keep myself from my comfort class (druid) and try new things... and at the start BFT seemed like a decent compromise (I'm quite sure i was also considering some Witch archetype but i can't remember which one).

At a character level, Nela learnt how to be an arcanist from her mentor and nobody else. In other words, I don't really think the archetype was a choice for her: it's simply how she was taught. Nela deeply respected her mentor, it's hard to put into words what a good influence she was to her. That woman was one of the few adults in her life who accepted Nela as who she was... and the only one who had an idea about how to guide her away from ruining her own life.

I really don't talk enough about her mentor, who actually deserves a name.

Keeping her particular brand of the craft alive makes the pain of loss that tiny bit lighter.

7. Is there an alternative class or archetype that is in-game that may fit them better, and if so why did they not take that path?

I do really enjoy the focus on transmutation magic and bending its rules that BFT has, but it's definitely not the only archetype that would suit Nela. I've been eyeing Magic Deceiver, as with Nela's focus on knowing and understanding magic (after growing fascinated precisely because she was born with it) it feels really fitting. Maybe even more so! I'm not comfortable with giving up BFT for it, however.

As for why she didn't take that particular part, it's ultimately fairly self-explanatory given the previous question! Nela wasn't really given much of a choice regarding her magic studies for the longest time. She wasn't going to ruin her one chance to learn in terms she liked over a possible alternative being marginally preferable.

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

Hi! This is kind of random but I've been googling around and haven't been able to figure it out.... Do you know what level of education Ringo had? I know John had some college, and I *believe* George and Paul would have had something below or equal to a high school equivalency, but I can't find any solid info on Ringo. Thanks!

Hi anon!

So, I consulted my copy of Tune In for this and here's a basic rundown. For more details I'd recommend you check the book itself – it's very well indexed and there are epubs knocking about + a version on the archive.

Ringo was sick for more than an entire year around the age of 7-8 due to a terrible case of appendicitis, which resulted in life-threatening infections that put him into a coma for weeks and kept him bed-ridden for months. This meant he fell extremely behind in school, missing out on learning how to read and write. He ended up picking up those skills because a family friend helped tutor him but he couldn't fully catch up. He ended up in a secondary school class, which basically deemed him and his classmates hopeless for anything but manual labor and ended up quitting school at 15, the moment he was no longer required to. He'd also missed two years of school again due to tuberculosis.

After this, he began collecting unemployment benefits in between doing several smaller jobs like working on ships and in the railways, before beginning an apprenticeship at a factory to become an equipment manufacturer.

Also, I didn't recheck this, but IIRC George didn't directly have a high school equivalent* because I think he dropped out before finishing classes at the Institute (I actually can't recall if George sat his O-Levels, but I'm relatively confident he didn't do any A-Levels like Paul did. In any case I think he started doing an apprenticeship as an electrician when he was about 15.)

*Based on your wording I'm guessing you're American, but my understanding (and Brits with more knowledge than me are welcome to interject) is O-Levels/GCEs are akin to mandatory final exams for all British students, whereas A-Levels are the continued secondary education you do to get into universities. In general, I think the US public education system does not make the distinction between "finished mandatory school" and "university-eligible". Although, one might note that John did not in fact pass his O-Levels (or do A-Levels for that matter) but was recommended for the Liverpool College of Art, which I imagine had its own admission system, by his teachers who wanted to make sure he had prospects (off-topic always fascinated by how much faith in his person John seemed to command). I also think Paul did take university/college classes, but did not end up doing any of his first year exams.

EDIT: sorry I think I mixed stuff up. It seems like Paul would have gotten into teaching college but ended up going to Hamburg instead.

[robbiefischer]

💭 📚 🩹 🎶 for Viola and Jamila?

Ooooh, these are such great questions anon, thank you!! And tysm for asking about my girls! Since I've never talked about them here, here are the absolute basics. Jamila (35 years old) and Viola (37 years old) are another set of my doctor wives - Jamila's a plastic surgeon and Viola's a trauma surgeon, and they both work at the same hospital in New Islington. I apologize in advance for any missing words/spelling issues - my dog's kept me up most of the night the last couple of nights because of storms (plus my partner, who she adores, has been on a business trip) and my brain feels mushy af not getting much sleep.

💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — what is your oc's MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)?

So, I don't usually do MBTI or enneagram stuff for my OCs but I decided to take a test for each of them answering as I think they would based off of what I know about them and it was a really interesting experiment, ty!

Viola is an ENTJ-A (assertive subtype, apparently) which... makes perfect sense, really. She is 100% a natural born leader, is extremely charismatic, loves nothing more than a challenge and is very goal and achievement-oriented. She has a very big personality and sort of commands attention and respect, if that makes sense. She's not obnoxious about it at all, it's just who she is and how people respond to her energy. She's also an enneagram type 8, wing 7 which seems to correspond well to her MBTI type.

Jamila is an ENFJ-A, although quite a bit less extroverted than her wife. She's closer to the border between I and E and definitely has moments where she needs time to herself to recharge her energy. She very much has the "wants to do the right thing always" trait, and loves nothing more than an opportunity to help her friends and family grow into the people that they're supposed to be. Jamila is an enneagram type 3, wing 2.

📚 BOOKS — what level of education has your oc most recently completed/is currently in (GED, undergraduate, grad school, phd, etc)?

Jamila and Viola both finished medical school, then went on to do fellowships in their respective specialities - Viola in trauma surgery, Jamila in plastic surgery.

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

Sorry, I know this is probably boring but I don't think either of them have any physical or mental disabilities.

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

Viola absolutely loves music and listens to it whenever it's practical (the only time it's not blasting in her OR is when she's got another surgeon in there with her who can't concentrate with music on). She tends to be drawn to rock, especially harder rock and alt rock, punk and post-punk, heavy metal, some industrial and EDM (especially dubstep). When she was younger (as a teenager and young adult) she was a constant presence in the local scene, and spent so much of her time going to shows and being in the pit. Now, she still loves going to shows but is a lot more careful and less willing to take dumb risks especially if she could hurt herself or her hands - her job's too important to her.

Jamila's not actually a huge music person. She doesn't dislike it or anything, and has artists she really enjoys but she just doesn't tend to think of putting it on most of the time. She's another of my OCs who tends to really prefer music without lyrics - she loves minimalist, modern piano music and film scores more than anything else. If she's going to listen to music she'll probably put on a little Joep Beving, Arvo Part, Megan Wofford, Gavin Luke, Franz Gordon, Reeder, Arden Forest, Ludovico Einaudi, Max Richter or someone like that. It's soothing and helps her center herself, and she has a playlist that she always listens to before bed to help her brain wind down (it's one of the few times she DOES think to listen to music).

[anghraine]

for the meme, I'm hoping nobody has asked for fitzwilliam darcy yet ^_^

Someone has, but I'm happy to choose a new one, haha. I've been avoiding repeating artists too much—but one of my favorites for Darcy, as I see him, is this:

All This and Heaven Too | Florence + The Machine

But with all my education I can't seem to command it And the words are all escaping And coming back all damaged

[galacticwildfire]

Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

Two

Poe Dameron x Solo Original Character

Hope Solo’s haunted by the night the temple burned. Having gone rogue she hunts the First Order in search of answers until a fateful encounter with Poe Dameron brings her back to the Resistance and Leia puts her daughter under his command to find Luke Skywalker.

Word count: 10k

Tags/warnings: simp poe, exhausted leia, snap lowkey living for the dramatic irony, resistance command having a panic attack, lando being the favourite uncle/minor hypocrite, mentions of war crimes/systematic kidnapping and indoctrination of children, grandpa vader, alcohol consumption and swearing, threatening with a blaster, angst. Leia Pov, flashbacks to before the awakening.

A/N: They don't interact this chapter but from next one onwards the story kicks off. I have a prequel published that I'll be updating as I go on ao3. All my stories are written for adults with adult themes, I use appropriate tags but read at your discretion.

~

~

~

Leia

Poe leaves, more than a little deflated he doesn't get to go and try to find her. He's a brilliant asset and usually pretty sharp, so while the fact my own daughter's left him void of common sense is unexpected, I can't blame that alone for him not putting two and two together.

I'd only recruited him a few months ago, half a year after I'd begun telling people Hope had returned to university to finish her education in order to take up politics full time. I'd encouraged her at several points to return to school considering she'd gotten herself expelled when she was sixteen, believing it would be useful to redirect her away from the path she was spiralling down but her commitment to the cause may just be greater than my own, or rather her obsession with hunting down Snoke.

I had always admired her keen sense of justice and the passion that came with it, that was until seeing it in action and learning just how brutally efficient she can be. Certainly the product of two generations of generals and senators, unfortunately with Han's impatience for both war and politics. She's always given as good as she's gotten, certainly a stark reminder of how I was at the same age. Except she's always taken things too far, never truly letting go of a slight and always evening the score, and that was before she began seeing herself as the sole harbinger of divine justice upon the First Order.

It should have been a simple mission, reconnaissance, but it was my error in believing she could physically walk away from an injustice, it's not in her nature, especially not the kidnapping of children by the First Order when Lando's own daughter had been victim of it.

Cutting down the storm troopers to free them and help them escape was one thing, I wouldn't have expected her to do any different even if the sight had jarred me deeply, but it was when she got her hands on their captain it all went wrong. I'd seen her use the force to inflict pain on different occasions, always on impulse and without thought, out of desperation to protect, but this was torture.

She didn't ask where the children were to be taken, didn't ask anything that could have mitigated what she'd done or gather the intel we needed but continued on her own vendetta. Somewhere in her demanding to know Snoke's location, something a mid-rank officer certainly didn't have, the captain made the mistake of mentioning the name Kylo Ren and in her own words, she snapped.

And I had to once again cover up my children's crimes.

It only seemed fitting that she should re-educate herself on the fragile state of galactic politics and what the repurcussions of such an act could be through returning to university and serving the galaxy rather than blindly attacking it. I had to pull every favour I still had to keep it from reaching the ears of the senate. Her return to Naboo seemed to satisfy the rest of command and my few contacts in the navy such as Ematt who were aware of the incident.

Even if it was utter bullshit.

I've known very well she's been flying about the outer rims working for pirates and the like, assumably to try to get a rise out of her father.

Han and I's separation was mutual, amicable as it could be considering the circumstances, but it was never that way in Hope's eyes. I understood Han physically couldn't stay in the home we'd shared with our children, and I struggled to look at him without seeing Ben, but he never wanted to leave Hope. He'd asked her to go with him in the Falcon but she wouldn't leave me. She was too focused on fighting a war that hadn't even begun to see that her father was all but pleading with her to go with him away from the cold war that was forming.

Except in her eyes war was declared the moment a suspected First Order agent exposed the truth about Darth Vader to the galaxy, Ben finally turning was the final blow.

For the Resistance this is a cold war but for Hope she's been fighting ever since she was seventeen. Han didn't understand it, he couldn't understand the visions that plagued her or the nightmares that haunted her. He couldn't stay, and she couldn't leave. We both saw her slowly slipping further into the darkness despite how desperately we'd fought to keep her from it, but he was the one who swore he couldn't watch another child lose themselves to it. That was our final fight, over him leaving his daughter.

She wasn't even eighteen.

Now she's out there looking for him and he's nowhere to be found, too ashamed to face either of us since falling back into old habits. Not even his daughter making a reputation for herself as a scoundrel has been able to draw him out of whatever hole he's been hiding in from the Guavian Death Gang to face her, and now she's digging herself into that same hole. Even if Lando insists from what he's heard that she's made herself into quite the successful scoundrel, no doubt exploiting Jedi mind tricks in a way that would certainly drag Luke out of hiding just to lecture her for it.

As for this Naboo starfighter, she didn't have one in her possession when she left this base but it's only natural she'd acquire one since she spent her teenage years pushing them to their limits to the point she got herself suspended from the Naboo Starfighter Corps for pulling some mad stunt that made Han proud. It breaks my heart knowing how far she's gone to try to find him, or as it now seems to spite him when she always worshipped him.

Before she could even read she'd spend hours in the cockpit of the Falcon asking question after question as Han showed her each and every control and he'd would spend hours answering every single one, beyond thrilled he had a little version of himself. She was always his little co-pilot as Han put it and Chewie was happy enough to let her take the reins, more often than not having her on his knee until she grew old enough to reach everything herself.

She was a happy child, with big bright eyes and a soft face framed with my dark hair, knowing with a mixture of pain and acceptance that she has the same blue eyes that my father had. While Hope took after my side physically, and in many factors emotionally for better and for worse, the way she'd speak, the awestruck look in her eyes whenever she'd gaze upon the stars.. it was all Han's. He adored her right from the moment he delivered her onboard the Falcon after an unfortunate hyperlane blockade complicated matters, sitting her on his lap in the pilots seat, just a few hours old, and declaring her the youngest pilot in the galaxy. She would certainly grow to have his heart and need to be amongst the stars.

He never recovered from finding her the morning after the temple burned. I could feel she was alive but he couldn't. He thought she was dead when we saw her body on the ground from the cockpit, he still thought she was dead when we landed and saw the blood and ash caking her face and the burns across her body, he believed she was dead right until he had her in his arms and found she was somehow half conscious despite the searing pain she was in.

It broke Han. He blamed himself for not protecting her from the one person who we believed would never harm her. Ben might have come to hate us by that point, but never Hope. He'd been jealous of her when she was a baby with six years in age between them, something certainly neither Han or I planned, she was a surprise but certainly a very welcome one.

But Ben... he hated her until she grew to idolise him almost as much as Han, he was a lonely child and suddenly he had a little sister who looked at him like he was a hero and he would have done anything to keep her safe. He was her brother, her teacher, and she was the one person in the galaxy he still loved after believing everyone else had abandoned and betrayed him.

Yet there she was, half dead with lightsaber burns across her body and neither Luke or Ben anywhere to be found.

Hope insists she doesn't remember what happened after lightning hit the temple, whether Luke somehow erased those memories or she's suppressed them I don't know, but it took her months to admit it was Ben who had left the scar on her arm, months before she could even speak about what happened that night. She says she doesn't remember receiving the lightsaber burn to her leg but insists Ben never meant to kill her or anyone else that night, that he'd maimed her in an attempt to subdue her from fighting back before lightning hit the temple. Insisting that however she received the burn to her leg that put her in hospital for a week came afterwards.

I have my own dark theories regarding that.

I look up as Poe comes in again, except with Snap this time. "Yes Captain Wexley?"

"I'll leave for the recon mission now in case the First Order decides to clean up any proof they were in the sector." He slowly looks to Poe who stands there no doubt believing he's come up with some foolproof plan judging by his self assured smile. "Poe's concerned I might need a wingman with the amount of tie's in the system and wants to come with me."

I just sigh as I look between them, Poe's nervous excitement clear for anyone to see. I've become fond of Poe because of how much he reminds me of Hope. From the very first time I met him and lectured him for nearly getting himself killed and he answered with some bullshit excuse it felt like I was speaking to my daughter for the first time in months, so this is a sweet irony.

"That was exceptionally foolish of you," I'd told him, looking right at Poe sitting there drenched in sweat after having Ematt bring him to me after he'd just narrowly escaped the First Order. "You barely got out of there with your life."

"In my defense, General," he began and I leaned back in my seat, anticipating his response. "There's no way I could've known I'd find a First Order staging point."

"But you hoped you would," I said, having been through this routine easily a dozen times before with Hope so I knew how it went, and felt an ache at how long it had been since I'd had to have such a conversation. "Or something like it."

"Yes," he admitted sheepishly but he clearly didn't regret it. I couldn't help but smile to myself as much as I'd tried not to.

"The need to do what's right," I continued, able to read him accurately by that point. "And maybe find a little adventure along the way."

He'd shifted in his seat, a nervous admittance that I was right, and I felt a strange comfort knowing Hope was doing just that, living a life of adventure no matter how misguided she might be.

"You remind me of my daughter," I'd said and he seemed surprised. "Fly like her too apparently."

He blinked, not sure of whether to be flattered or not by my tone. "Is that a compliment?"

"I'm hoping we'll see."

I'd recruited him that day and I've never regretted that decision, although I couldn't have anticipated I'd become equally fond and frustrated with him in a way I've only ever been with my own daughter, so this truly is a sweet irony. Although something tells me Poe wouldn't be able to look me in the eye for at least a month if he knew it was my daughter he was gushing to me about, Snap however from the equally exasperated and amused look on his face has certainly pieced together who Poe encountered.

"It seems this rogue pilot destroyed all of them so I'm not overly concerned," I say and tell them. "Poe you can do that mission report, Snap see what data you can get and if you come across this pilot I trust you'll know what to say."

Snap's known Hope since the first Resistance meeting and along with L'ulo helped get her used to flying the old x-wing's we acquired and solidify the training she received on Naboo. She respects him enough she'd at least hear him out before jumping to lightspeed. If anything she sees Snap as a brotherly figure so I have some confidence he could convince her to come back if they ran into each other.

"And this pilot," Snap says, snapping his fingers in thought before asking Poe. "How old did you say she seemed?"

"Um, early twenties?" he answers, Snap too obviously trying to cover for his wingman in assuring me Poe thinks she's of a more suitable age for him to be fawning over even if he is technically correct that she's in her early twenties. Considering I was younger than Hope and Han was older than Poe when we met I can't exactly say much and she'd no doubt remind me of that fact if she was here, meanwhile Poe takes the opportunity to keep pressing the matter. "Look even if she doesn't have any proper navy training I'd be happy to sort that out and take her under my command. I'm not sure what history's there but again I just want to say how great of an asset I believe-"

"I'll remember that," I assure him, ending the conversation there and dismissing them both. "Thank you Captain Wexley, Commander Dameron."

Poe looks confused but nonetheless follows Snap out of my office. I'm wise enough by now to know some things are not just mere chance, he's been able to confirm for me this pilot is Hope, the physical description was enough for me but the ego certainly sealed it. She's twenty now, so Poe isn't exactly mistaken in his assessment, she reached that milestone towards the end of the last year not that she was here for me to see it. If anything Poe's blatant interest in her only makes the realisation she's grown up hit harder. Her youth had been robbed from her before she'd even turned seventeen, she at her own insistence became a child soldier and threw herself into the field, I couldn't have stopped her even if I wanted to, but it's knowing my daughter's turned from a renegade teenager to an equally renegade woman without me there to see it that hurts.

Counting the birthdays of one missing child is hell enough let alone two.

I could send Poe to find her and try to convince her to come back, both of them certainly believe themselves to be the best starpilots in the galaxy and I dare say they are from what I've seen them do. Even with the natural talent Hope's inherited I've never known a pilot to put as much dedication into their training as she has from such a young age, twelve years old and petitioning the Queen of Naboo herself to allow her to fly in their starfighter corps along with enrolling to undertake their gruelling handmaiden training so she could get her hands on a blaster. Luke always had concerns over her lack of seriousness when it came to her Jedi training, but the attention and devotion she lacked elsewhere she put into flying and unfortunately fighting.

Flying is her lifeblood and I know the same can be said for Poe, which is why I know if I had to send a pilot to chase her down it would be him. He'd be the only pilot in the galaxy who'd have a chance, although I dare say she's taken on her father's talents in rigging hyperdrives and thrusters to speeds that should be by all counts impossible, and certainly illegal, which would complicate things.

Regardless, she doesn't know him and she certainly wouldn't listen to him, and there could be very serious consequences if it were to be discovered she's the one piloting the starfighter that's fallen on both the First Order's and the Navy's radars from the intelligence I've received. Until I know for certain just how much trouble she's found herself in it's best to keep this information classified and from the rest of command until I can cover up the extent of her antics, I've certainly become quite skilled at that by now.

But the thought does give me an idea. Operation Saber Strike, a heist to hijack a ship and steal intelligence from a senator with links to the First Order. It'll be the most dangerous mission the Resistance will have conducted to date. Poe's been the most obvious candidate but I've been hesitant since the Resistance cannot be linked to it and if anything were to go wrong we would not be able to send a team to recover him.

But if Hope were there that would change the odds considerably, and from her reported exploits with Hondo Ohnaka she should have no problems with it. At least she hasn't reached her father's level of stupidity in swindling Hutts, yet.

And so I contact Lando, he might be the last person in the galaxy who could talk sense into her aside from Han and if she's still on Tatooine then we might just have a chance.

When his image appears he immediately asks "Have you heard from Hope?"

He lost his daughter when she was still so young, we almost lost Hope that day as well to the Empire's kidnappers, remnants that would become the First Order. I know Hope is the closest thing he still has to a daughter, and as it stands he is the closest she has to a father. The only man in our family who hasn't disappointed her, he may not be blood but he's her uncle, the only one she has left.

"I found her."

The relief in his voice is unmistakable. "Where?"

"Tatooine, one of my pilots had a run in with her on patrol just an hour ago, came just in time to find her ambushing a squadron of tie fighters," I inform him, wishing it was Han I was telling this to. He'd be trying to hide proud laughter and asking how many she shot down, the same proud laughter he had whenever she'd do something I'd disapprove of. But he isn't here. "Bring her home."

"Leia," Lando says heavily. "You know she came to me when she ran away from base and hasn't stepped foot here since I tried to talk sense into her, that was almost a year ago and she still hasn't shown her face. I can try to track her down and get her to come home but she's Han's daughter, we both know that's easier said than done."

"She's gone rogue," I say, knowing if she's left Poe this impressed she must have been truly stupidly reckless, not to mention the utterly suicidal amount of tie's she's been targeting. "Which is why I'm sending you, to let her uncle have a word with her before I send in x-wings to ground her and forcibly drag her back."

I let Ben slip through my fingers, I'm not making the same mistake twice.

"Alright," he promises me. "I'll find her but I can't promise I'll be able to convince her to do anything. You know how stubborn she is."

"Tell her I have a mission for her," I say, knowing the reason she left and didn't return was because we grounded her. "And that it's time to get back in the x-wing."

He nods and as the transmission ends I'm praying I'm making the right decision.

Grounding her was the hardest decision I've made since starting the Resistance, when she took off I knew she'd go to Lando to try to cool down, but it was when she turned on him as well I truly began to worry. For months I was terrified, I was used to her taking a couple weeks away from base without contact to compose herself but this time it was different. But it seems now my worst fears were just that, she hasn't turned to the darkside or gone after Ben, not successfully at least, she's more Solo than Skywalker and I need to hold onto that.

I have to.

Still, I need to know what to expect and so I access the the flight recordings from Poe's mission since I don't want to wait for the report to know what happened and I just need to hear her voice to convince myself this is real.

When it begins it's Poe talking about nothing to BB-8 as usual before noticing the tie-fighters.

"Crap, they're going after a civilian ship, you know what that means buddy?" BB-8 beeps in reply. "Yep, it means this patrol just got interesting, ready for some action?"

I shake my head at how excited he sounds, Hope might have left but when it comes to giving command headaches Poe fills her place perfectly. Ematt's said more than once that he's glad he's not the one having to oversee his missions anymore despite how much he praises him, all while Ackbar once remarked he may as well be a Solo with how he flies. I know Hope would have been considerably proud to know she was the Solo in mind Ackbar was referring to. There may be two Captain Solo's, but one's significantly more notorious on this base than the other.

Poe's just as brilliant as she is, an invaluable asset, a pilot that would make his mother proud, but at this point I've come to accept brilliant pilots seem to think they're an exception to the rules.

Although he does try significantly harder to follow them to his credit.

"You see that BB!" I hear Poe yell at whatever stupidly reckless manoeuvre she's pulling, able to hear the explosions through the recording and there are many of them. "Come on, let's go follow them through the asteroid belt. Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't get bumped."

Poe's love for his droid is something I've certainly only ever seen in Hope, and that's saying something considering my family. From when Hope was a baby she was obsessed with R2 and so when we decided to send Hope off to university Luke told me it was time R2 had a younger companion who could give him the love and adventure he deserves and he's certainly gotten that.

Hope's always liked droids more than people, but I've thought on more than one occasion that Hope and Poe would actually get along quite well if they met and put their egos aside, that she could even come to see him as an older brother, but it seems I'm sorely mistaken in that assessment.

I listen carefully as he makes contact.

"Naboo starfighter identify yourself."

I don't expect to tear up at the sound of her voice after so long, but I do. "No, I don't think I will."

"Before you get cocky are you aware you were just ambushed by a squadron of tie-fighters belonging to the First Order and that I came to assist?"

"I was the one ambushing them," she says and I can hear the smile in her voice. For so long I've been worried sick she's been in some cantina drinking herself to death or out of her mind but here she is, my Hope. "I'd thank you for your assistance but you were a little late."

"It's a shame, I thought this patrol was about to get interesting."

I can't help but roll my eyes at Poe's remark, it's past time I gave him another lecture regarding engagement seeing as he's getting too comfortable in the field.

"I didn't think New Republic pilots were allowed to engage," I hear her say, she's not an idiot as much as she acts like one, she'd know damn well it's a Resistance pilot by the model of the x-wing. "Am I under arrest officer?"

"Oh for the love of the force," I cringe at the flirtatious tone of her voice, suddenly wishing I just waited for the damn transcripts and begin to realise I'm going to have an absolute handful between her and Poe if Lando manages to convince her to come back. They might just get along better than I'd anticipated judging by Poe's infautation.

Maker help me.

I continue listening to their back and forth, waiting for something that could give me any additional information or hint that something is wrong, but she sounds happier than she ever did in the months before she left base and somehow that only hurts, proving to me a failure on my part.

"A moonjockey in a beaten up x-wing?" I hear her tease despite the state of her own that still sits in the hanger.

"Beaten up?" He repeats and can't help but chuckle to myself despite the tears in my eyes. "Not everyone's got the credits to be flying state of the art N-1's so why don't you tell me what organisation you're with? Bounty hunters guild or something like that, hired security?"

Now I become curious, Threepio's network has a significant amount of intelligence on her but I've been reluctant to hear any of it aside from trying to pinpoint her location, telling Threepio that as long as she's alive and not actively trying to get herself or others killed I don't want to know the details of her criminal adventures, the same can be said for Han. If I allowed myself to hear everything Threepio has to say about them I would have been dead from a heart attack months ago.

"Something like that," she says and I purse my lips knowing there is only one man on Tatooine who would be hiring her for that kind of work. Surely she can't be stupid enough to work for Boba Fett? No, not stupid enough, but she is spiteful enough. "Maybe I'm just a pilot like you who's sick of those bastards and decided to take matters into my own hands."

Well, at least she hasn't changed one bit in that regard in the time she's been gone.

"You know," I hear Poe begin. "The Resistance is looking for pilots."

I hear the amusement in her voice and even I can appreciate the irony. "Is that so?"

"I was tracking the tie's that got behind you before you went into the asteroid field, counted fourteen you took out with those canons, make's you a double ace, triple if you count the one's you herded into the asteroids."

"I'm a quadrouple," she corrects and I can't help but smile as frustrated as I am she's put herself in a position to become one. "And that was easy work."

"You're a hell of a pilot, I've only ever known two pilots to pull off that manoeuvre you did and I'm one of them, definitely the only other one to be able to pull it off in space. If you're as good as you seem I can put you in touch with General Leia Organa herself."

Poe's starting to get a little big for his boots but in this situation he's right, and considering the intelligence he brought to me without even knowing it I can't fault him, and despite his ego I know he's deserving of the trust I've put in him, just as I know Hope is.

"I know I'm a hell of a pilot, best one there is."

Han's daughter alright.

"I don't know about that," Poe tells her and I sigh, already I know where it's going. At least I was correct in assuming their ego's would quickly come into play. "But I'd be willing to see what you've got."

"Is that so?"

"That's right."

"Alright hotshot," she says and I cringe again, regretting not waiting for the transcript, but there's an ache in my chest as well. I'd almost forgotten how difficult it could be to listen to my daughter and remember her father so vividly, something I know put distance between us. Except now I find myself also mourning the girl I was at her age, knowing how greatly I've always underestimated how much she takes after me as well as Han. "You know, I never got your name."

"Commander Poe Dameron," he answers and ironically adds "Of the Resistance if you haven't put that part together yet."

"Commander huh?" she says, and know she's no doubt trying to profile him considering she was only a captain and hear the bitter undertone to her voice. Turns out the trouble they could give me may very well go either way. "You must be a flyboy then."

"The best," he says and I sigh knowing this base might not be big enough for both their ego's, which they certainly live up to. "And you still haven't identified yourself."

"And I'm not going to," she says, no doubt thinking he's an idiot for not putting it together but he certainly wasn't doing much thinking and she didn't seem as disinterested as I'd expect. Considering the closest she's ever come to a relationship was with a blue skinned Twi'lek girl from the temple I hadn't exactly accounted for flyboys being her type, but then again I thought the same about myself once. "But I'm sure you'll figure it out Commander, give General Organa my regards."

I purse my lips at that, sitting in contemplation as the recording continues to play out before I can be bothered to switch it off.

"Ah shit, she's taken off," he says and sighs before saying "She's something huh BB, is that what love at first sight feels like? Because wow."

It ends there and I don't know if I should be thankful or not that's the extent of the flirting but that's an issue that can be dealt with later. In the meantime Poe can be as lovestruck as he likes but that'll soon fade when he realises she'll unfortunately detest him for outranking her, at least until they get to know one another, and I'll deal with whatever comes of that when the time comes. She could certainly do far worse than Poe. 

Perhaps this encounter could just motivate her to come back, for Hope there's no greater motivator than spite and the need to prove herself, and if I give her a mission that should seal the deal for her. I just want her back, my idiot daughter who I love more than anything in the galaxy. I want her back as much as she drives me even crazier than Han does. I need her back.

I pray Lando can get through to her, but I still need to know exactly what work she's been doing in the Outer Rims in order to ensure there won't be any legal complications that could come with her returning to the Resistance.

"Threepio," I call out and he comes in. "I need to know everything you got on what Hope's been doing for the last year."

"Oh dear," Threepio says. "General, you may want to sit down for this."

"I am sitting."

"Oh yes my mistake, then you should hold onto the arms of the chair," he says but I know he's been dying to get it out. "You will not like it."

"Which is all the more reason to know."

"Well where to start, yes, let us start with our old friend Boba Fett, and that was sarcasm if you could not tell..."

~

Hope

After cleaning up the outpost the tie's came from I return to Mos Espa to collect my payment, the encounter certainly playing on my mind with a mix of bitter jealousy and satisfaction. Despite the pure anxiousness I feel knowing Mom will no doubt put two and two together I can't help but smile to myself at the thought of this commander. Am I slightly pissed that someone's who's been there less than a year is a commander while I was stripped of being a captain? Absolutely, but he's left an impression. There's just something about him.

Although that excitement quickly fades when I step inside the palace and remember the conversation that had me walking out of here just hours ago.

"There were twenty four ties all up," I tell Boba, having encountered some more while targeting the outpost. Just one short of being able to claim to be a mega ace. "Three separate squadrons of varying sizes. I found where they were stationed on the moon of Chenini, small outpost but I destroyed it. Their activities drew enough attention I had a run in with a Resistance commander but I'd taken them out before he could get a shot in."

While I'm quite proud of that he's displeased, but not with me. "Twenty four stationed on one of the moons, that is worse than I'd anticipated." He has Fennec Shand bring forward my payment, an elderly lady but I'd never cross her. She looks seventy and fifty at the same time and is still attractive enough to make me question myself morally. "You've earned every credit but I have a bonus for you." I raise an intrigued eyebrow. "You've been searching for the Millennium Falcon yes?"

"Yes," I say, my heart skipping a beat at the mention. "Maz Kanata told me it was stolen by Gannis Ducain."

"Who is currently in Mos Eisley," he says and I feel my lips curl into a dangerous smile. "I recommend you get there before he learns you roam these parts and takes off."

"Thank you for the bonus," I grin as I take my payment and make my way out with a hand on my blaster, eager to put it to use. "Come on R2, let's go get my ship."

~

Not even ten minutes later I've landed in Mos Eisley but there's no sign of the Falcon, even so enough people must know why I'm here because the moment they see me with a blaster in hand they point the way to the cantina.

The moment I step inside it falls quiet and immediately I set my eyes on Gannis Ducain, having gotten a description of him from Maz Kanata a few months back.

"Solo!" a voice yells out. "Tell your daddy he owes me-" without looking away from Ducain I fire a blaster bolt at the man harassing me, shooting the drink out of his hand before turning my blaster on Ducain.

He slowly raises his hands, Maz had told me Dad hired him to fill in for Chewie as crew and that he stole the ship out from under him as thanks, so I'm not swayed to sympathy.

"My ship," I say, keeping my blaster on him as he slowly starts moving out from behind the booth.

"It's-" he begins before deciding to make a run for it and I wonder just how stupid he is as I chase him out onto the street, I could use the force to stop him but bodyslamming him against the wall of the cantina is much more satisfying.

"My ship," I repeat as he struggles only to find himself frozen and his eyes widen in alarm. "You know who I am?"

His voice shakes as he answers me "Yes, yes -princess."

I give a satisfied nod. "You have one chance to tell me where my ship is."

I don't give threats, I don't need to, having the reputation as the heir of Vader's more than enough without the other accusations that follow. On base I'm just Han and Leia's little girl, but out here people recognise me as more than that.

R2 for once doesn't beep in alarm but stands there backing me up, knowing full well what Ducain did. He might try to prevent me from committing violence with a lightsaber due to some specific traumas but he never stands between me and someone who's betrayed our family.

"The Irving boys," he rasps out and insists "They stole it from me."

I'm almost disappointed he gave up so quickly and pull my blaster away from his head, knowing if the Irving Boys have it this is going to be more difficult than I'd hoped.

"The Irving Boys?"

"Yes, please don't kill me," he pleads and I'm mildly alarmed that's the first thing he thinks I'd do, it's not far off but still. "I made a mistake, I'm sorry-"

I'm tempted to push for more answers but freeze when I hear Lando's voice. "That's enough, he gave you an answer, put the blaster away."

The shock of his voice has me frozen, but only for a moment. "He stole my ship."

"If I remember right that was my ship first and you heard me, blaster away."

I curse under my breath, reluctantly shoving my blaster back in its holster and letting Ducain go before turning to look at Lando, finding myself gagged for words as he looks at me with a mixture of pain and disappointment, Ducain's boots kicking up the gravel as he makes a run for it.

"I tried to track you down for your twentieth but you're a hard person to find these days," he remarks and I know he's going to let me have it. He's always been the fun uncle but he knows when to draw a line. "I still remember when you were two and kept trying to steal my blaster to play with. I remember telling Han you'd be trouble, daughter of a princess and a scoundrel, that your defiance would shake the stars and by the maker have you certainly lived up to that."

"What can I say?" I try to smile. "If I'm gonna be trouble I might as well be good at it."

He looks momentarily humoured by that, proud almost, but still tries to put on a stern face. "Is this what you're doing? Running around the Outer Rims and making a name for yourself to piss off Han?"

"If I recall you made a name for yourself once," I remind him. "It's you and Dad I learned this from after all."

He shakes his head, not quite judging my choice of career but my other choices. "If you'd learned anything from us you wouldn't be working with Hondo Ohnaka and Boba Fett."

At least he doesn't know about robbing a Hutt blind.

"You're right," I acknowledge before pointing out. "It's why I'm rolling in credits while Dad's in debt to half the Outer Rim."

He raises an eyebrow and whistles "Well look who's still a little smartass, tell me how much are they paying you to do whatever it is you've been doing out here."

"Anywhere from five to fifty thousand credits for a smuggling job without commission and I just got twenty four thousand for taking out twenty four tie-fighters, a thousand for each one's the deal I struck with Boba Fett," I tell him proudly. "When you're the last Jedi in the galaxy who isn't hiding and the best pilot in it you can afford to be selective with your pricing."

He's impressed but tries to hide it. "Alright you're definitely doing better than Han but that's beside the point, tell me, are you actually happy doing this?"

"I'm not happy no matter what I'm doing so does it matter?" I answer with my arms crossed over my chest. "If I'm going to be miserable I might as well be rich."

He's trying hard to say I'm wrong but we both know I'm right. Even so he still tries. "You're a princess, you don't need to smuggle maker knows what to be rich."

"I smuggle artifacts, contraband, weapons and supplies, not spice or people," I assure him, I may have smuggled spice that one time but he doesn't need to know that. "Unlike you and Dad."

Lando's eyebrows shoot up at the audacity. "Spice yes, people no."

"You sold Hera Syndulla," I remind him, remembering Hera telling that story during a reunion when I was still a kid.

"One time, and I'd planned to swindle that guy and get her out," he tries to argue. "And besides it's not my criminal career we're here to discuss. You're working with Boba Fett so any moral argument you have is irrelevant, you're a princess you should be with your Mom instead of doing whatever this is."

"I have a code, I don't deal with that kind of thing and I only take work from people who were Jedi or Rebel sympathisers," I still try to explain. "And as for being a princess Mom only gave me that title when she was ruined in the senate and needed someone to take her place. I never grew up as one, there's no Alderaan, it's a political position that means I get to curse people out in the senate and petition them for money we don't have."

"Speaking of your Mom," Lando begins and I look away. "She wants you to come home. She's worried sick about you Hope."

I immediately shake my head, as if in reflex. "Her and I have nothing to talk about, and the only real home I ever had was the Falcon considering I was shipped from Hosnian Prime to Naboo to Ossus on repeat for years, and you made me let Ducain go before I could get more information."

"There isn't any more information to get out of him, and if I recall interrogations with a lightsaber were how you got into this mess in the first place," he says and I can't meet his eye as he references the incident. "Hope despite what you believe, you were justified in what you did to get those kids out and save from from being indoctrinated into becoming stormtroopers. You know damn well your Mom and I would never condemn you for that, especially not me."

"But she did," I argue gently and he shakes his head.

"She condemned you for trying to torture a First order officer for answers," he corrects. "You saved lives that day even if it went against the rules and she was proud of that, but not what came afterwards." I can't say anything, keeping my eyes trailed on the ground as he continues. "You know ever since you were a teenager I've helped you get out of whatever mess you've found yourself in because I'm your uncle and it's what I'm here for. You know I've always told you that if you ever need help and don't want to go to your parents to come find me and we'll sort it out."

Whatever attitude I have quickly disappears with Lando, him being the one person in my family I can't find a reason to be angry with. Not when he's been the only one other than Mom to stick around.

"I know," I say quietly, regretting being so angry when he told me to go home after I'd come to him when I first ran away.

That day I'd cut down a squadron of stormtroopers, until then I'd never used my saber on another person. I'd felt first hand the absolute agony of being on the receiving end of an attack and knew the people behind those helmets weren't wholly evil, that they were once children like Lando's own daughter who were taken and brainwashed. As much as I hate to admit it, it was shame along with Mom's own horror that led me to run.

I know Ben would have called me weak for even feeling shame about harming someone who wouldn't think twice about taking a shot at me, but I killed them and realised for the first time that despite my anger I might not have what it takes to destroy an entire order when the death's of a few stormtroopers haunted me. Maybe it's the fact that I didn't feel any hesitation or guilt until after the act that disturbed me the most. Torn between pure apathy and blinding anger and who I was raised to be.

Lando walks over and puts his hands on my shoulders. "Let me buy you a drink and we can sit and talk before you try to run away again, okay?"

I give a stiff nod and feel tears prick in my eyes as he hugs me tight, unable to remember the last time I'd even hugged anyone. It would have been Mom, how long ago I can't say. At least a year, probably longer than that considering all we did was fight. It's all I can do not to burst into tears as he lets me go and we head into the cantina.

~

We sit there in a booth at the back with drinks in hand, the silence heavy until he breaks it "So you've been rolling in credits and you don't even have a cape?"

I can't help but smile "I have several I'm just not wearing one."

"Ah, so I did teach you something then," he says and winks like he always would when I was younger, it brings me comfort. "Tell me has Hondo tried to swindle you yet?"

"Yes but it didn't quite work in his favour so I swindled him back," I say, laughing to myself. "You know Hondo, profit above all else but as it would turn out the old pirate has a soft spot for Jedi."

"Really?" he repeats in surprise. "I thought the only thing he'd have a soft spot for's credits."

"Turns out him and grandpa Vader had a duel once and he can't stop boasting about it," I sigh and he laughs. "I thought I'd only have to listen to his stories about working with you and Dad and not the time he drugged Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi and tried to ransom them along with a sith lord."

"That sounds about right," he says and tells me "You know I do miss the days of adventure, as much trouble as it would get me in."

"So why am I not allowed to have my own?" I pose to him and know he finds it difficult trying to play the responsible parental figure when he's always been the uncle enabling my whims and helping me get away with it. "I'm quite good at it too, even got an offer of membership to the bounty hunters guild."

"Do you know what you're even better at?"

I humour him. "What?"

"Being a rebel." I lower my eyes at those words. "Trust me I know, but unlike me you were a rebel long before you ever went into this line of work."

"High command wanted to expel me from the Resistance Lando, even Admiral Ackbar and all the others who were actual rebels," I remind him and finally admit "I know what I did to that captain was wrong, it was wrong as a Jedi, as a member of the Resistance and as a somewhat moral person. I know it horrified Mom and the rest of command, but the moment their captain mentioned the name Kylo Ren I- I snapped."

He nods in understanding and says "Kylo, I remember your brother came up with that name as a kid since he hated his actual name. A mix of Skywalker and Solo wasn't it?"

I don't know if I want to laugh or cry at that memory, likely both. "That's how I knew Kylo Ren was him, I mean- we knew who Snoke's apprentice had to be but I don't know, I think I was in denial for a long time until then and realised he wasn't just an apprentice, but the First Order's enforcer and that-"

"It's alright," Lando says and his hand covers mine. "So tell me what you've really been doing out here, because ever since you were seventeen you've had your mind on one thing only which is finding Snoke and bringing your brother back. I know you haven't abandoned that."

"I've been training," I tell him, knowing acquiring Jedi scriptures and artifacts has been half the work. "Mom is somehow convinced Luke returning will miraculously bring own the First Order but I'm not that naive. Obi-Wan Kenobi couldn't bring down the Empire, Ahsoka Tano couldn't stop Vader. It's not going to be one man against an Empire."

He nods in agreement but points out the hypocrisy of my statement. "So what makes you think you can single handedly defeat the First Order by hunting down tie fighters?"

"The work I've been doing is so I can use my connections and credits to track down Jedi artifacts," I tell him and he's listening. "The Jedi are gone but holocrons still exist."

He leans back and says "I dealt with Jedi artifacts during the time of the Empire, even back then they were nearly impossible to come by."

"But not completely impossible," I say and test the waters. "Three months back Hondo and I pulled off a heist on Cato Nemoidia."

"On what now?" he repeats. "Hope if you get caught robbing them they execute you."

"Well I didn't get caught and he got whatever he was after and I got a holocron," I tell him, deciding not to tell him about raiding Grakkus the Hutt's vault, Vader might have gotten to it decades ago but some artifacts managed to remain hidden, until me. "Luke's disappeared, Ben's lost his mind and I need knowledge that I don't have in order to defeat an enemy who does and that's what I've been doing out here Lando, preparing for the war to come instead of sitting on base knowing everything is futile if we can't strike hard and fast."

He nods slowly, appreciating what I'm saying has it's merit. He knows objectively speaking he should be lecturing me, but he knows I'm right. Still he tries to play both sides. "I understand you need training, that you want to have some adventure along the way instead of spending your younger years as a political servant or stuck on a lonely base with no one your own age there. You're young and you deserve to live the life we fought for your generation to have, but you don't need to cut Leia out to do that. Regardless of what you did or the fact she's a general now, she's still your Mom and she just wants you to come home. She's been worried sick you've been out of your mind, whether that's just on the run or or worse."

We both know what worse means.

"You didn't see how horrified she was Lando," I try to get him to understand. "She'd never looked at me like that before, like I really could become what Vader was, not until then when she knew how I'd gotten the information out of their captain."

"Let me tell you something," he says trying to change the subject. "Do you think your Mom never lost it from time to time during the war? She strangled a Hutt to death with her own chains. Hell she even had Chewie choke me once, for good reason, but still. She isn't perfect, and whether you believe it or not she doesn't expect you to be either, especially not when it comes to dealing with an enemy captain trying to kidnap children, she still trusts you."

I just scoff. "Really, because she made it quite clear she didn't."

He leans forward. "What if I told you Leia has a mission for you?"

I actually laugh in disbelief. "She told me I'd be lucky if she ever let me in an x-wing again."

"Well, she said to tell you it's time to get back in the x-wing," he says and I sit there stunned. "I know you and your Mom have had your differences but I'm gonna tell you what I've told you I don't know how many times in the last three years. Instead of searching for the family who ran away, hold onto the family you've still got."

"Lando-"

"I know how stubborn you are, so you've gotta get this idea out of your head that going home means you've given up on whatever crusade you're on. It isn't giving up, it's going home to your Mom to see her and make things right before you lose her too." The thought of that has tears again coming to my eyes. "You're so focused on what you've lost that you don't see what you still have."

"I disappointed her," I swallow. "Worse than that I compromised the Resistance because I couldn't keep myself in check."

"She's forgiven you if she's asking you to come back," he says and my throat's tight as I realise just how badly I want that to be true. "Because she's your Mom and you're all she has left and she loves you."

"I-" I'm at a loss for words. "I can't."

"And Leia can't lose you either," he reminds me. "Han might have left, he might have blamed himself for your brother turning and what happened to you, but you aren't the only one he left. You and Leia need to stand together instead of whatever this is."

"You know something Lando?" I ask him, laughing sadly. "Mom wanted all these big things for me, had all these expectations, but Dad... he never did. I was never a screw up in his eyes, I was just his little girl no matter what I did and now I can't go anywhere without people thinking I'm either a spoiled princess or a danger to society."

And so he asks me "Then what do you want to be?"

It's a question I don't know how to answer, once maybe I had an idea, but it's less simple now.

"The girl I was before it all fell apart," is all I can come up with. "The girl who had a family. Why else would I be out here? I- you've spent your life looking for your daughter Lando, for your family, and I just want mine back too."

His face is grave and there's pain in his eyes. "Leave finding Han to me, in the meantime go home to Leia." It's then his voice turns heavy. "I know you love him but don't be your father's daughter, don't run away because things get hard. Don't abandon your Mom just because he did."

It hurts, but it's true and I nod.

"Alright," I agree, and reluctantly decide. "I should see what this mission is since there's only one of me."

He nods proudly. "You're making the right decision."

"And if I'm not it's gonna be your doorstep I end up on," I promise him, knowing it always ends that way eventually but he's right, I can't abandon Mom.

I need to make things right. 

~

After a stop by Naboo to ditch my starfighter in favour of my transport I make the short flight to D'Qar. In case there is any slight chance Mom hasn't pieced together I'm the one that's been flying that ship I'd like to keep it that way, and besides my x-wing will be thankful to have the N-1's modifications transferred over.

The journey's short enough I don't have time to change my mind, still I'm anxiously twisting the ring on my finger the whole way there, a rebel alliance signet that Mom gave to me for my nineteenth. Little did either of us know soon after I'd leave, and now a year later here I am.

When I come into the atmosphere I'm contacted by command, a new voice I don't recognise but it seems there's enough of those to go around.

"Identify yourself."

"Solo," is all I need to say before there's some surprised chatter in the background and I'm given clearance to land. I'm half tempted to turn the ship around as it suddenly becomes real but considering she isn't standing in the open hanger waiting to berate me it gives me a little faith.

In fact when I land she's nowhere to be found and I hold out the smallest hope she's off base so I have some time to prepare myself, or rather to stay happily in a state of avoidance. 

Eyes are on me as I walk through the hanger dressed very much like a smuggler and not the daughter of a princess, the expected whispers following. Some faces I recognise, like L'ulo Lampar's, who gives me a nod of welcome acknowledgement which I return, but most are unfamiliar and I realise just how much has changed while I've been gone, numbers have at least doubled in that time.

The officers who know me give me a nod of respect being the general's daughter, but the strict formality is a stark reminder of the loneliness I felt while I was here, having failed to find myself at home with the veterans with nobody my own age anywhere to be found. 

"Oh no," I hear Major Brance say as he spots me, quickly turning on his heel and walking in the other direction while speaking into his comm. "She's finally back, maker help us."

I blink at that and even R2 is slightly offended on my behalf but as the person in charge of intelligence and imparting bad news he's quite familiar with my exploits. His hesitation is merited, but for others it's based more off the conspiracies about the temple than anything else, coming from a Sith lord and being a known lightsaber wielder doesn't exactly help my case. 

Mom's a respected general, very few know of her training so she was able to escape the accusations that were thrown towards me when the truth about Vader came to light. She was the princess of the Rebellion, just as they now call me the princess of the Resistance and I remind myself I have every right to be back here after so long even if command doesn't like it. 

I've done my training, hell I've trained since I was twelve years old, but it's a Cold War with no action and no way to truly prove myself without being deemed a political disaster waiting to happen, and I proved them right. All I've ever wanted is to prove myself, but not like that, and when the whispers become to match I walk until I find someone I'm willing to talk to to find out where Mom is.

"Snap," I smile in relief, a familiar face since he was one of the first to join the Resistance, someone I'd met before everything went to hell, who was in that hanger on Hosnian Prime when they brought me back from the temple.

Snap looks at me, pleasantly surprised. "Well look who's back. How long's it been this time? Nearly a year?"

"Yeah, something like that," I answer with an anxious laugh. "Have you seen the General?"

"Off base on some political mission," he answers and informs me with little sugarcoating "Just a warning, she knows it's you that's been flying the N-1."

"Shit," I whisper and he just nods in agreement. "I'm screwed."

"Yep," he says and to divert myself from thinking of the consequences of that I go down a different strain of thought.

"So...that commander gave her my regards then?"

He looks like he's struggling to keep a straight face. "You could say that."

It's awful timing but I'd rather ask about this new flyboy than imagine what's going to happen when Mom comes back. "You know him?"

"I'm his wingman," he answers. "And no, I didn't let slip that the person blowing up ties is the general's daughter, your anonymity is intact."

Snap's one of the few people on base I genuinely like and for that reason, he has your back without needing to ask for it.

"Thank you," I say and inquire. "Is he stationed here?"

"He's been on the Echo of Hope but he's been moved to here since taking command of red and blue squadron," he says and remarks "Haven't seen a pilot like that since you left."

I struggle to reign in my bitterness. "Really?"

"Oh yep, and he sure seemed to like you." I make a sound of genuine surprise and he pats me on the shoulder as he walks past. "Welcome back Solo."

With Mom gone it gives me some time to prepare to see her, to get out of my head for long enough things might just feel alright. For a while we were closer than we'd ever been, but after Dad left whatever close relationship we'd forged broke down with every argument and disagreement over how to deal with the First Order until that last mission.

"How do you feel R2?" I ask him, knowing it's not just me I've got to think about. "Are you happy to be back? I know Threepio will be happy to see you."

He gives an affirmative beep and that at least reinforces my decision to come back. He'll be missing Mom, I know I've been even if the thought of seeing her leaves me physically sick with worry. She knows I've been hunting the First Order, but there's still a chance she doesn't know about the rest of the work I've been doing to fund my pursuit, even if it's unlikely.

Regardless, I'll be lucky if I don't get the dressing down of my life, but if she has a mission for me I have to be here. I have to prove myself.

And maybe I'm a little curious to find out more about this commander.

[lazinesswrites]

I know some people have Opinions about this, so I just wanna say from the beginning: I'm not tryna start anything, you can have your opinions and I can have mine, and they're all fictional people anyway, so lets just keep the discourse to a minimum, yeah? Great, love you all <3

But I've been thinking about Clones and sex, and. Hmm. So, I'm ace myself, which means I'm obviously gonna have a slightly different view on sex than most allo people, but I just think... I think sex will mean something vastly different to Clones than it does to most people who've grown up with the nuclear family model and a more or less Western-Christian culture (such as myself).

Because the Clones are Clones. They aren't born; they're created. They don't have parents; they have a donor and tubes and trainers and commanding officers. And they don't have children; they have cadets and shinies and men. And yes, they call each other 'brother', but the more I think about it, the more I think that's less so 'person born to the same parents' and more so 'brother-in-arms'.

We all like to give the Clones a bastardized version of Mandalorian culture, because Jango Fett was Mandalorian, so that's the closest the Clones get to a race beyond just being Clones. In Mandalorian, brother is 'vod', but 'vod' is also sister, and comrade, and mate - so not necessarily a blood relation, or even really a relation at all; it seems to range from 'actual sibling' to 'random person I just bumped into'. From the same link as before: "Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?" translates roughly to "Are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?". 'Jatne vod' is the Mandalorian version of Sir (polite, not military), and 'ori'vod' is translated to 'big brother, older brother, or special friend'.

And beyond all the language-stuff (Hi, in a week I'll have a masters degree in communication, can you tell?), again: Clones were created. Their situation is unique, as far as we know - an entire race who're technically all the same person, except they're all individuals too. Specially engineered to learn and think for themselves. The words we have, the understanding we have of what 'family' and 'brother' means - even the understanding the Mandalorians have - it doesn't fit the Clones' experience 1:1, because their experience is fundamentally different. Just as my experience and culture, as a Scandinavian growing up in a culturally-christian society, is fundamentally different from the experience and culture of, let's say, an Indigenous person who grew up somewhere in America. And while we might have some overlapping experiences, as humans, our lives and cultures are again fundamentally different from that of, I don't know, penguins, or something. Aliens, if they exist.

So, even though the Clones are using words we know, to describe experiences and relationships that we think make sense, we can't assume those experiences and relationships are actually in any way identical to our own.

On top of all that, I doubt sex ed was a priority for the Kaminoans when they put together the curriculum for the Clones. I feel like it probably didn't really fit in there, between Battle Strategy and How To Always Follow Orders (Even When The People Giving Them Are Stupid Or Evil Or Both). And Clones probably have very limited access to things like books and movies and music and art, in any shape or form, beyond what the Kaminoans might have around for themselves, or find useful for the Clones' training and education. So, you know. Pretty much anything.

Which means, anything the Clones know about sex, they figure out themselves, or they learn once they're off Kamino (if they manage to find some downtime between battles - the existence of 79's suggests at least some of them do).

What I'm getting at is: If Clones have sex at all, it's gotta be more or less pure instinct and figuring things out as they go - and considering they pretty much only know each other, the Kaminoans, and a few other instructors, and also have little to no privacy, from what we've seen of the barracks on Kamino... that means figuring things out together.