#I never expected to get here when I started watching Star Wars

[jinx-xxed]

Officially going to get to see Adam Driver live and I am very excited and super normal about it

[bvidzsoo]

Underwater

The first star of Cosmically divine...

☆ Author: bvidzsoo

☆ Pairing: Choi San x female reader

☆ Warning: nudity, smut, blood, mentions of war and threats to kill someone

☆ Word count: 6.9k

☆ Rating: nsfw

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, San is Ares, forbidden love

☆ Summary: You knew that your love would never be fulfilled as the man you loved belonged to another woman. But can you help your poor Naiad heart when San, the God of war himself, seeks you out again and again when he is most vulnerable?

☆ A/N: Hi, lovelies!^^ I totally didn't write this piece in one sitting, naaah, yes I did. I hope it's good and enjoyable as I have my doubts with it I was so hyped up but anyways. I appreciate all your feedback, it is very welcomed, so let me know what you thought of it! If you'd like to join the taglist of the series let me know! I'll point out a few things before you start reading the story:

★ This is inspired by Greek mythology, but I took creative liberty and adapted it to my likes, so keep that in mind while reading, thank you! ★ Ares is the God of war ★ Artemis is the Goddess of hunt ★ A Naiad Nymph is a female spirit that preside in fresh water ★ Aphrodite is the Goddess of love ★ Hermes is the messenger of Gods ★ Iris is the goddess of rainbow but was also considered messenger of Gods ★ Atë is the goddess of mischief ★ Dion is a village and municipal unit in the municipality of Dion-Olympos in the Pieria regional unit, Greece; it's known for its sanctuary of Zeus and its ancient city (it's so beautiful over there guys, if you get the chance, you should definitely visit the village, and Mount Olympus too!!) ocean divider; greek divider

☆ Taglist: @patchofblue @sthwaaberry @constipatedcorgi @holytidalwavechees3cake @cheolliehugs

@slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @hoeforsungie

༄ ҉ Series m.list ༄ ҉ 　

            On the outskirts of the ancient city called Dion, just by the foot of Mount Olympus an enchanted forest vivid with Nymphs of all kinds encompassed the land, offering a much-needed sanctuary and protection to those who were in need of tranquility and a piece of quiet, away from all mortals, and even Gods that had their watchful eyes on everyone and everything at all times. The small Lake of Naia, springing from the top of Mount Olympus, rushing down rapidly the rocky side of the mountain only until it became merely a gentle stream was the place I referred to as my home. It wasn’t just my home, it was the home of many Naiad nymphs that have been birthed and then raised on the shores of Lake Naia by their elderly sisters, naiads that have been here for centuries, having witnessed atrocities, but so many beautiful life-changing events as well. We were fond of this place, and we protect it ardently. No foul soul was allowed in the vicinity of our sacred Lake, Artemis herself having blessed our sanctuary.

Men who were desperate for enlightenment, or were feeling lonely, would often find solace in our presence, grateful for an eternity to us, making promises, which, due to their fragile lives would never be completely fulfilled. But that was alright, my sisters and I never expected too much from them as long as they honored and cherished our land, our Lake, our home. After all, mere mortals wouldn’t be able to offer us what the Olympian Gods could. Warm bodies and warm souls that we could often lay upon our hardships, our fears, and our future ambitions. I have never stepped too far away from my home, walking barely a few feet away from the Lake would make me feel restless and unnerved, unsafe and exposed to the not so kind men that liked to haunt and torment us when the Gods weren’t on the look out for their dear naiads.

Besides Artemis, not many came often to Lake Naia, its location too close to Olympus and yet too far from Dion for the Gods that were rather lazy, like Apollo. Zeus always had his eyes on his children and kin, however, if they travelled far away enough from Olympus, he’d certainly turn a blind eye to whatever shenanigans they deemed fit on their travels on Earth, disguised as something they were not. Even Artemis liked to change her features when she came down to bless our Lake and show gratefulness for guiding and protecting the maidens through their hardships, however, there was one God that never bothered to hide his true self. All bloody and gory and authentic, brute yet hands gentle as if they were afraid to bruise those innocent, eyes sharp and menacing upon first glance, yet warm and intense on a second glance. The mortals liked calling him Ares, but I preferred his birth name, the one Zeus had given him, San.

San had always been a gruff and intimidating man, as the God of war, he was strong and vigilant, quick on his feet and cutting with his words. Very few naiads had the courage to approach him, scared he’d hurt them if they displeased him in any way, and so, the task of looking out for him whenever he visited Lake Naia fell on my hands. And despite the stories that I have heard about the fearless man, I couldn’t bring myself to find him terrifying or mal-intentioned, not when his lips quivered when he whispered the names of those fallen in battle, not when tears would escape his beautiful eyes before he’d submerge in the crystal-clear water of Lake Naia, desperate to rid himself of all the blood, suffering, and screams of those that have perished underneath the sharp blade of his sword. San was a man with a delicate and soft soul, yearning for a connection that was simple, a connection in which he didn’t have to explain himself nor feel guilty, a connection where one simply listened to his burdens and coaxed him further inside the warm and tranquil waters of Lake Naia.

Being immortals, it’s been too long and I wouldn’t be exactly able to pinpoint the time and date of when San decided that he’d choose Lake Naia as his piece of heaven and peace after a long and exhausting battle, but ever since then, his visits became more and more frequent. Perhaps it was due to the rising tension between the settlements as the mortals were never quite thankful with what they’ve got, so, they challenged each other to a war that only lead to disaster and suffering, dividing families and scarring individuals for a lifetime. And despite the real reason as to why San was here should have saddened me, as a protector of maidens that have fallen victim in these wars, I only found my heart gleeful and quickly beating the more often he showed up. There was something majestic, captivating and divine about San, and my poor Naiad heart stood no chance against a man whose walls crumbled the second his armor was off his body.

            Times were dire, nature had a way of silently absorbing everything the mortals felt. And as part of nature myself, I found myself quite volatile lately. Even the quietest snap of a twig sent us back deeper inside the lake, ready to submerge and watch from underneath whatever fool decided to approach our sacred place. My sisters grew restless and they refused to step out of Lake Naia, whispers of the forest surrounding us carrying word that a war not too far from our home was brewing as the military forces of two settlements failed to see eye to eye. Artemis visited more often than before, blessing our humble abode and promising a new location that would be even safer if the events would turn grimmer, but my sisters and I refused to flee. This is our one and only home, the only place that we’ve known since eternity, since the cosmos has birthed us, and if it came to it, we’d rather perish with this place than abandon it and leave those who love it as much as us behind. Artemis did not like our refusal, but her word couldn’t go against our eldest sister’s, and once we’ve put our hearts to something, we rarely changed our minds.

Due to the sun hiding behind the clouds, the Lake failed to stay as warm as usual, but our songs kept it idle for a quick dip. My sisters have disappeared somewhere deep-down underneath, their absence coating the surroundings in a serene silence, perhaps a little bit even eerie. I knew what this meant as I lurked just above the surface, eyes set on the steadily approaching figure. Its outline was harsh and looked to be almost vibrating as his heavy footsteps echoed in the silent forest, the animals just as reluctant as my sisters to be in the vicinity of the God. Pushing my head above water, I took a deep breath and slowly swum towards the shore, the soft water clinging to my skin like a second skin. The sword that was gripped in the God’s hand glinted in the light, despite the sun being hidden, and it left a red path in its wake as he came closer to the Lake. Something salty and nauseating hit my nose as my feet touched the fine soil of the Lake, the water up to my neck as the sword slipped from the God’s hand, clanking loudly against the grey stones that littered the path that led towards Lake Naia. Heath flooded my body, and it wasn’t from the Lake as I walked further out, water below my chest, it was from the God’s body heath as red veins swirled underneath his pristine and tan skin as his arms were left exposed. The miniscule cut on his right bicep was the first thing that caught my eyes as the water of the Lake finally reached my ankles, white dress heavily clinging to my body and failing to hide anything as my black hair looked almost molded to my back as it wetly stuck to it. A soft exhale and the deep furrow of his dark eyebrows was the first sign that my God felt exhausted as we came to stand face to face, his body tense and vibrating with the remnants of adrenaline, meanwhile mine felt lax and tingly as I bowed my head, curtsying.

“San, my possessor.” I didn’t need to speak loudly, there were no sounds around us, just San’s breaths coming out in short puffs, chest rising and falling rapidly underneath his black steel armor. The stench of death would make anyone run away, but as I raised my head up and laid my eyes upon my possessor’s face again, I could only feel pity seeing the regret and exhaustion whirling together in his sharp eyes, clouding his mind and I could almost hear his thoughts.

“Y/N, my nymph.” And the God’s voice that roars and shatters in a battle was now shaky and soft, warm to the point that it made my heart beat faster, “I have missed you dearly.”

I didn’t dare smile as I extended my right hand, eyes stuck to the swipe of dark blood underneath his right eye, trailing down to leave the impression of a bloody tear. I swiped at it with my thumb, and San’s eyes closed as he gulped, sighing loudly.

“Let me take away your burdens.” I whispered as I stepped closer, the heath almost devouring me as the red veins seemed even more alight underneath his tan and soft skin, heart beating out of the God’s chest as his eyes slowly opened, black eyelashes fluttering as they settled on my face.

“Please.” A God never pleaded, never fell to their knees in front of anyone. A God was strong and fearless, ready to devour anyone who dared disobey their command. I offered San a small smile as I leaned forward, lips parting just slightly before they made contact with the cut on San’s bicep, a whimper leaving the man’s lips upon the contact. And his eyes were glazed over as I pulled back, the taste of salt tangible on my tongue as I caressed his now healed bicep. San knew what to do, and with a deep breath he fell to his knees, hanging his head low as my hands caressed his cheeks before his jaw, settling around his neck. His skin was hot, flaming almost, gushing with life underneath all that heavy muscle and flesh, desperate for a gentle and understanding touch. I allowed my hands to travel lower, onto his shoulders, nimble fingers unclasping the harsh steel from around his defined shoulders. A pause, another sigh, and San stood tall once again, a calloused hand settling on my hip as he oh so gently pulled my body closer, my fingers itching the more blood they touched, which was now rusted onto his armor, the same armor that Hephaestus had designed for him upon the request of Zeus so that it would make San, his bellowed son, invincible. San’s sharp, but softening, eyes remained on my face as my hands first went around his middle, leaning my fragile body against his. It was sturdy, unmovable like a mountain, but it was also warm and gentle, a quiet promise that it would keep you safe from any evil. San’s fingers twitched before they dug into my hip, his armor sharp and cold against my own body, but I welcomed its closeness as San seemed to melt into the embrace, his tense muscles finally easing up at last. He could finally be vulnerable, bloody or not, in my eyes he was perfect and benevolent.

“Your battle must have been strenuous.” I spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence, as I gently peeled myself back from the embrace, fingers latching onto the clasps at the God’s middle, undoing them and letting the bloody armor fall to the ground, looking like it’s been broken in two. But it wasn’t, it was unbreakable just like its possessor.

“I have not had the opportunity to close my eyes for six days as of today.” His deep voice lost all the malice it usually carried, and my eyes remained focused on the dents and marks the armor has left on the poor God’s sun-kissed skin. My warm fingertips gently traced against them, the muscles flexing underneath them as the God hummed in content, both hands holding firmly onto my hips. I smiled as he leaned forward and gently rested his chin on top of my head, allowing me to trace the scars left by his ruthless armor, knowing that they’d disappear if I touched them. I closed my eyes as my fingertips reached them hem of his trousers, which weren’t made of steel but were magically enhanced so that there wouldn’t be a repeat of Achilles, and I leaned just a little bit forward to press kisses tracing his collarbones. The sighs the God let out were of pleasure and he hummed in appreciation as I untangled the knots of his trouser and gently pushed them down his hips, caressing his loins firmly as San groaned, nails digging through the thin fabric of my white translucent dress.

“Then we shall get inside the Lake.” I proposed and San hummed in agreement, grip not faltering as I stepped back to steer us inside the water. When our eyes found each other again, his were ablaze with want and need, but he knew he had to wait until we got inside the water. And so, he reluctantly released me and eagerly took my extended hand as I interlaced our fingers, a small and charming smile appearing on his face for the first time today. I chuckled and lead us back to the water, walking backwards as the smile only seemed to stretch on San’s lips, red veins ablaze and whole being glimmering in the light of the small clearing the Lake resided in, the clouds slowly uncovering the blazing sun as the weather reached my thighs, San’s body convulsing as it was overheated from the battle and the Lake would cool it down. I walked further inside, my body welcoming the familiar feel of the soft water brushing against myself, like a cocoon forming a protecting layer over it, my own armor.

San’s body shook when it was finally submerged, underwater, and I released his hand as I giggled and took a deep breath, to tease him, and dipped my head underwater. I opened my eyes and grinned as his legs kicked out to stay above water, never having been keen of having his head under the clear water of the Lake. His naked body looked almost translucent underwater and I swum around it, playfully nipping at the skin of his back, thighs, abdomen, calves, and chest, my teasing cut short when a strong hand seized me around the neck and yanked me above water, dark brown eyes coated with lust and cheeks flushed as our bodies pressed together, legs wrapping around his middle subconsciously.

“Rest now, my San.” I whispered, eyes fluttering shut as his hot breath fanned my face, heart thundering underneath the hand pressed against his chest.

“I’ll bring you a star on our next rendezvous.” His words were rushed, almost desperate before hot lips pressed against mine, devouring them with fervor, with desperation and a neediness that I fear will never be satiated.

            The forest was loud for once, animals buzzing around, a deer timidly coming down to our Lake to hydrate itself, and Yeri, our youngest naiad, lay giggling on the shore as she teased the deer by leading it around in circles with a string of water, until our eldest sister chastised her for tormenting the innocent creature. As our youngest sibling, she was rather mischievous and loved to play around whether it was with animals or humans. Younger men especially loved her, but she only enjoyed their company as long as they remained on land and her in water. She was the least trusting of anyone other than her naiad friends, thus why she had refused even Artemis’ offer of finding her a lover that would dearly cherish her.

I was laid back on a larger rock by the Lake, resting back on my elbows, my white dress almost completely dry as I swirled my toes around in the water, humming in contentment as my sisters voices meddled with mine as they were gathered towards the middle of the Lake, playing a tagging game. I smiled as I listened to their giggles and cheers, which were mixing with the beautiful songs the birds were singing, echoing our voices almost perfectly. The strong, divine, presence first gained our attention as everyone perked up, sensing it come closer as my body grew jittery. I curiously stood up, not expecting a visit from Artemis so soon, or another deity for the matter. But when my eyes fell on the approaching form in the distance, I instantly knew who it was. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart jumped in joy, but I couldn’t help feel concerned at the same time. San never visited unless he went to war, to a battle, and he had told me truce was laid upon the two settlements after they lost many men. He had no reason to visit, yet he was here. And my sisters shared my unease as they all grew warry, stopping their game as the eldest one called Yeri over, deeper into the water. I scrambled onto my feet and offered them a calm smile, not wanting them to panic and do something rash when it came to San. Understanding my request, they swum further away from the shore, only their eyes and the top of their heads visible as my feet touched the soft grass, San’s face now visible as he came closer.

Expecting complications and even a summoning to Olympus, instead, a bright smile decorated his lips, eyes crinkled and a skip to his confident steps as he hurried down the path having spotted me. Feeling confused but glad to see him nonetheless, I returned his smile and gasped when I was swept off my feet, his arms firm around my waist and twirling me around. I clung to his neck, lips brushing against his ear as I giggled, a similar sound leaving San’s lips. My heart skipped a few beats before it started beating faster altogether, every vertebrate in my being jittery as I realized this was the first time I have seen San so happy and relaxed, his sword nowhere in sight, and his armor polished and clean, glinting and carrying the scent of pine and musk instead of the salty stench of blood.

When he was done twirling me around, he placed me down on my feet, but kept his arms around my waist and leaned down hastily, warm and red lips pushing against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I allowed myself to melt into him, cupping his cheek as our lips moved together softly, making it feel like it was the first time I was kissed by him. I felt my head whirl around and fingertips grow warm as San smiled into the kiss, apparently refusing to pull back just yet as he kept pressing little pecks against my plush lips. There was something about his demeanor that brought tears to my eyes, a side of San that I was seeing for the first time despite us knowing each other for an eternity now. I had dreamed of what a happy and free San looked like, a San that wasn’t tormented by a battle where he had to slay mortals and swallow their screams, feed off of the pure madness, hatred, and rage. I have prayed to Artemis to see a San that was so happy his whole body glowed from it, and now that I had him in my arms, laughing and kissing me, I couldn’t contain my own emotions.

“Why are you crying, my little nymph?” His voice carried worry as he caressed my cheek and swiftly wiped a stray teardrop from underneath my eye, eyebrows furrowing, “Have I made you sad? Perhaps even mad by showing up so unexpectedly?”

“No!” My voice raised without me meaning to do so, and my arms tightened around him as I pushed up on my tiptoes, ours noses grazing together as I stared inside his dark and soft brown eyes, “No, my San, I am beyond delighted to see you in such light. I have only dared to dream of seeing you one day happy and carefree.”

“My little nymph,” San whispered, expression faltering for a second as pain clouded his eyes, but it was quickly gone as I traced his high cheekbone with my forefinger, eyes taking in his beautiful features only a God was gifted with, “I had not known you harbored such wishes; I should have known seeing me always all roughed up after a battle brings you pain.”

“No, San,” I shook my head, a small smile appearing on my lips, “It brings me peace of mind and solace that I am the one you seek out after such feat, that I am the one you come to, to chase away your pain and fears after a battle.”

“Sometimes I see the stars in your eyes, Y/N.” San’s voice was merely a whisper as his hand gently brushed a strand of hair off my face and behind my ear, “When you look at me so deeply like right now, they sparkle with life and I see the cosmos in them. You are majestic underwater, but it will never come close to how you look when your eyes land on me.”

I gulped, feeling speechless as my cheeks grew hotter and darker in color, fingers tangling into the small hair on San’s nape. It was the first time his black hair wasn’t pushed back to make his eyes look even more piercing, but was rather soft looking and fluffy, hanging into his eyes as a dimple formed in his cheek as a wide grin made it onto his face again, “If my heart stops beating one day, I wish you to be the last thing I see before I must go.”

San shook his head, eyebrows furrowing again as he held onto my face, leaning so close his lips brushed against mine when he spoke, “You shall never leave me first, I promise you’ll be here until my last worshipper perishes, and even then I do not wish to take you with myself into the Underworld.”

“We won’t go to the Underworld, San.” He gulped as our gazes bore into each other and then he nodded, wordlessly and looking a little defeated, releasing my face as he cleared his throat. Sensing that he had something important to say, I released him and stepped back a little bit, watching him curiously as he reached inside his armor, pursing his lips as if he couldn’t find what he was looking for. I took my time to pay close attention to him, to take in his all like this, so that I could replay it when I missed him most. The way the sunlight fell on him made his caramel skin glow even more, face relaxed and a smile almost always present on his red lips, eyebrows unfrowned for once and expression serene as his muscles remained lax, not even a bit tense. When he finally found what he was looking for, he made a sound of triumph and I smiled a little wider, looking at him with big eyes as he pulled a collar out of his armor. I couldn’t determine what it was for, or whether it was a necklace or a collar, but when he opened his palm and raised it up for me to see better, I gasped in shock. There, worked into the steel that looked a lot like the one his armor had, was a little glowing star shining almost blindingly up at me.

“I promised to bring you a star,” San said quietly and then turned me around gently, pulling my black hair from around my shoulders to one side only, “I wish you keep something of mine on yourself, for protection.”

My lips pulled into a small grin as the cold steel touched the base of my neck, “You wish for everyone to know who I belong to upon one glance, don’t you, my greedy little possessor?”

San chuckled behind me as I felt him secure the clasp, his voice just a little bit deeper when he spoke up again, “You know me too well, my little nymph.”

His lips brushed against my ear and I turned my head to look up in his eyes, heart beating out of my chest, “Thank you, San, like the star around my neck, I’ll continue gazing at you as if you were my own personal star.”

A beat of silence passed between us before I felt San’s body press up against mine from behind, hand coming up to cradle my jaw and hold it firm as he leaned down into a searing kiss as reward for my words, as reward for allowing him to claim me in front of all Gods and Goddesses.

            Not long after San’s visit, another deity seemed to be keen of visiting our humble Lake Naia. Albeit, this Goddess has never been too fond of our existence right at the feet of Mountain Olympus as she had claimed we’ve been charming her men away from her. She could have anyone, she had everyone, us mere Naiads could never live up to her beauty and charms, but she failed to see and understand that. My sisters and I had been gathered around the rocks, just by the shore, giggling about the latest gossip we have heard through Hermes’s secret lover, having been accomplice to the kidnapping that he had planned for Iris. We have sworn secrecy to her and Hermes, and swore to keep her safe and hidden from Zeus as long as she sometimes indulged to our gossipy nature and came down to the Lake for a bath where she’d share all her stories as she lived in the closest settlement, Dion. An outcast Goddess had been wreaking havoc lately there and Iris was trying to find ways to warn men without the other deity catching on, but Hermes is too scared Atë would tell Zeus of his once prized seer’s whereabouts and thus had forbidden Iris from meddling with the other Goddesses shenanigans.

The birds songs grew louder and the foxes ran out of the bushes as a light breeze entered the clearing the Lake resided in, and the strong scent of roses and pomegranate invaded our senses as my sisters and I became alert to the presence of a deity other than the two we would welcome here so often. The lower half of my dress was soaked as I had dangled it in the water prior, and due to Yeri, my long black hair was now tangled into intricate twists with flowers secured in it. The cold steel necklace sat snuggly against my neck, the star softly buzzing at all times and sometimes humming along to my songs. The giggles and laughter died down as the approaching presence took its time apparently, taking in everything our humble abode had to offer her. My eyes stayed on her, closely watching her every move, and I felt the strength leave my legs upon realizing who it was. I felt my cheeks heat up all of a sudden, the steel necklace too heavy around my neck as my lungs seized up, almost suffocating me. Yeri, always quick to catch the change in someone’s mood, intertwined her fingers with mine and squeezed them gently, offering comfort in the subtlest of ways.

“Ah, Lake Naia,” The Goddess’ voice was melodic and soft, yet it carried over the space between her and us, “I have heard so many stories about this place, but never truly had the itch to come and see it for myself. You have bewitched quite a few men, my little nymphs, both mortal and immortal, do you know?”

Her piercing eyes fell on me as she finally reaches us by the rocks, making me gulp as I averted my eyes, looking at our eldest naiad as she stood gracefully, a pleasant smile on her lips as she approached the Goddess.

“Aphrodite, my Goddess, what brings you to our humble home?” The naiad curtsied and Aphrodite chuckled, looking around. A dove flew overhead and I felt goosebumps erupt on my skin underneath the white dress as the star became a little bit too hot against my skin.

“I have come to bathe in the Lake that chases away all your fears and terrors.” The Goddess said, suddenly unlacing the top of her yellow tunic, leaving her bare to our eyes, “At least that is what everyone claims this place accomplishes.”

“My Goddess, we would love to have you bathe in our lake.” The eldest naiad smiled, stepping aside to let the Goddess walk towards the lake, “We’ll take away all your worries, just as you wish.”

“I want her to bathe me.” A perfect milky finger was pointed towards me and my lungs seized up again, a lump suddenly forming in my throat as I opened my mouth to speak up, but my vocal chords felt like they were being crushed. Yeri grew tense next to me, her grip on me tightening as she stood in front of me protectively, glaring at the Goddess. She was fearless, she looked the lions in the eyes and challenged them without any fear for the repercussions.

“Aphrodite, my Goddess, I am afraid she will not be able to bathe you.” The eldest naiad tried to save the situation, the air growing tense as my vocal chords started to burn and I gasped, grasping at my neck helplessly.  

“She has been claimed by Ares!” It was Yeri’s shrill voice that tore through the clearing, making our sisters gasp around us as finally the pressure from my vocal cords was gone and my lungs also eased up, forcing me to intake large gulps of air, “She cannot touch any other deity than San himself, my Goddess, but you knew that already, did you not?”

“A Naiad with a sharp tongue, how refreshing.” Aphrodite chuckled as I yanked on Yeri’s hand and gave her a harsh stare for being inconsiderate and rude to a Goddess that could turn her into foam within a blink of an eye.

“I apologize, my Goddess, for her rudeness, she is still young and has to learn much.” I bowed my head deeply as I went to stand next to our eldest naiad sister, “I promise to teach her some manners myself, do not punish her just yet, I beg of you—”

“Like you have begged my husband to bed you?” A malicious smile grazed her lips, “Well…bed you, figuratively speaking as you seem to lack of beds in this place, pity, he fucks hardest when he has a headboard to hold onto.”

My jaw clenched as her comment felt like a punch to my ego, tears threatening to prick my eyes as Yeri came to stand next to me, standing just slightly more forward, but when she opened her mouth to speak up, the Goddess beat her to it, “You thought you could fuck my husband and I wouldn’t know? I know everything that happens inside and outside of Olympus, you little minx.”

“Then why does it bother you just now?” I gulped down the fear that bubbled through my system, and looked the Goddess in the eyes as I continued with my question, “Why just now when you’ve known all along what your husband was up to?”

For a second, Aphrodite seemed to freeze, but then slowly, her eyes fell onto the necklace that sat securely around my neck. He’d claimed me, San he had claimed me, meanwhile Aphrodite never quite loved any of his secret lovers to the point that she’d claim them. It hurt her, because it showed San was devoted to me, that he had given me a piece of himself, that he promised of a little particle of his heart that didn’t belong to Aphrodite anymore. Her ego was bruised and she couldn’t deal with the thought of a nymph stealing something that was once hers. She didn’t need to answer the question, her silence spoke volumes like her answer could never.

“Stray clear of my path if you do not wish to turn into foam, little nymph, or perhaps pray to Artemis to keep you safe from Zeus.” My sisters gasped as my lips quivered, dread filling my body at the thought of getting touched by Zeus. Even if a God claims you, Zeus can still do whatever he wants to you. His word and power were grater than any other Gods. I did not wish to come across Zeus, ever, terrified that he’d break me.

And just as quickly as Aphrodite had appeared, the foxes ran through the bushes one more time, a white dove flying over Lake Naia, and then she was gone, her sweet scent carried away by the wind that seemed to bring rain clouds with itself.

            The days and nights passed by sluggishly, almost as if to taunt me, fear rooting deeply into my bones as I preferred to stay underwater most these days, not keen of coming across any deity. Artemis managed to coax me outside and blessed me, promised protection once again, having heard of Aphrodite’s visit, whispering that San has been at war for a month now. Nobody knew anything about him as he just disappeared one night, but they knew he was alive, he’d send scrolls to his father, Zeus, and updated him about the advancement of the war. When the evenings started feeling lonely, despite the presence of my sisters, I felt my little star humming just a little louder for me to hear and burning warmer, warming my chest from the inside out. I found it my only solace as I yearned for my God, but was scared of what would happen if I allowed him close again.

The stars had been long up on the night sky, high up and shining down brightly, almost as if calling out to its kin that now shimmered in the dark around my neck. I continued to gaze up at them, floating on the dark surface of the Lake, crickets creating a serene cacophony as my sisters’ hums have long subsided as they have gone to sleep. I have found myself grow more restless than usual tonight, the stars calling out and coaxing me to stay awake as if to look over our home, protect it from unwelcomed guests. And when the clearing grew eerily quiet and the stench of death invaded my senses, I gasped and submerged, watching as a dark figure approached the water with almost sluggish moves. My body yearned to feel his warm touch and my heart started racing in my chest, but I did not move. I watched, not too far from the shore, as he came to an abrupt stop just before the water could reach his feet, and he gently placed his sword onto the ground.

“My little nymph.” His voice was quiet, tired, and rough sounding. Tears pricked at my eyes but I forced myself to go just a little bit deeper underneath, the star around my neck pulsing ferociously. My body felt on fire from it, but I refused to act upon my desperate wishes, “Y/N, my little star, where are you?”

My lips quivered and I turned, clutching the star desperately as it started calling out faintly, whether for its kin or for the God that had gifted it to me, I couldn’t tell. The swift clinking of steel and its clasp being undone echoed loudly in the silent clearing and the water was suddenly disturbed as I whirled around, eyes growing wide as I watched my God rush inside the water. It colored the water red around himself, more so than usually, and my heart clenched upon noticing the countless bruises decorating his legs and the gash close to his groin. Who dared wound up my San like that?

I felt helpless as my body acted before I could consider my next actions, and I quickly swum closer, lips touching the large gash underwater, eager to heal his perfectly sculpted body. San’s gasp was loud above water, and before I could swim away, large and calloused hands gripped at my shoulders and yanked me above, making me gasp out loudly as water dripped from my hair onto my face. San’s eyes were wide and streaks of tears made his cheeks shine under the starlight, and I gulped, eyebrows furrowed as I helplessly traced his forehead, wiping the excess blood from there and from his temples.

“My little nymph, why would you hide from me?” San sounded breathless as his eyes desperately searched my face, grip growing stronger as it slipped to my arms, “Do you not love me anymore?”

My eyebrows furrowed and my heart squeezed as I pushed at his hard chest, fury licking at my insides all of a sudden, “How dare you doubt my love for you, San?!”

“You refused to show yourself to me,” His voice grew hard, but his dark eyes remained soft, “You weren’t waiting by the Lake for me, you didn’t undress me, you refused to bathe me. You must not love me anymore—”

“I allowed you to claim me!” I hissed, gripping his jaw tightly, his eyes finally hardening as I got closer to him, “I allowed you to claim me with something of yours, and you doubt my love for you after you disappeared without notice?!”

“I must hear your reasoning before I forgive you.” My eyebrows furrowed and I bit my lower lip, Aphrodite’s words echoing in my head. I’d be turned into foam, and then, all the love I harbor for my God will be lost, felt in vain, unfulfilled.

“She will turn me into foam, you have angered her, my possessor.” My voice was merely a whisper, but loud enough in the silent clearing, in the serene Lake. I didn’t have to name her; San knew who I was referring to.

“Once a God claims something as theirs, nobody is allowed to touch it, not even a Goddess out of spite, my little nymph,” San’s tone was strong and confident, carried no room for an argument, “And I, Y/N, I love you with my whole soul and promise to protect you until my last worshipper dies and I perish with them.”

“Then you shall never perish,” I cupped his cheeks, my legs securing around his hips as San’s hand slipped to my back, holding me flushed against himself, “Because I am immortal like yourself, I shall never die and you shall never perish with me.”

A strong emotion that could be only described as adoration crossed San’s features before his eyes closed and his lips pressed against mine, making me cling onto him as our lips moved in a dance that made my heart thunder in my chest, rhythm syncing up with his heartbeat, beating together and for one another. The stars shined perhaps brighter that night as San carried us out onto the rocks, laying me down gently and reassuring me that I would be alright, that as long as he was by my side nothing and no one would hurt me. And his lips sealed the promise as his warm body covered mine, sinking slowly inside me, our souls uniting as my back arched and the star around my neck hummed louder than ever before. San’s each and every single kiss carried a whispered promise as it traveled from my jaw to my neck, nibbling at my collarbones as his thrusts stayed sharp and deep, my fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders, marking him up for everyone to see, for Aphrodite to find tomorrow and rage in her pretty bedroom as she isn’t able to do anything about it.

San’s name left my lips almost in a mantra, almost as if I was praying to a God that answered all my prayers and fulfilled all of my wishes, head thrown back and tears trailing down by cheeks as I saw the stars behind my eyes. San feared no God and he had no fear of breaking me as his thrusts became ruthless, pelvis slamming against mine, making me cry out his name repeatedly, finding anchor in his black messy hair and on the rock I was laid onto, the sounds he made growing louder within seconds as he grew closer to his own release. His hands found purchase on my hips as he threw his head back, losing himself in the feeling of pure bliss and euphoria, glazing up at the stars that never shined brighter than my own eyes.

And with my name undyingly on his lips, I knew if I were cursed to become a star one day, I would do so gladly knowing that he saw stars in my eyes, loved me enough to bring down one for me, cherished me enough to promise a death where we’d flicker away at once.

❱❱ Next star

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[heartpascal]

i was born waiting

▹— joel miller x daughter!reader

▹— summary: you’ve been looking for your dad for as long as you can remember, is this really him?

▹— a/n: hi! i started writing this september ‘23, so it has. it’s been a WHILE. so if this seems jumpy / not consistent then that is why! sorry!!! i have done my best!!!

▹— warnings: canon-typical violence and themes, weapons, parental death, witnessing parental death, aka insane amounts of trauma, death in general, she/her pronouns, reader is biologically related to joel but no mentions of appearance, no mention of her bio mother’s appearance either, fantasising about being dead (sorry), all hurt zero comfort, attempted murder, unrealistic expectations of someone you never met — please let me know if ive missed anything!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything), @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915  @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being @hqkon

MASTERLIST

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

There are certain things from your childhood that you can remember vividly. Though, really, childhood is a bit of a stretch, isn’t it? It’s hard to find the right word to encompass the way you had grown up, because you didn’t have much of a chance to actually grow.

From the moment you had been born, your life was a battle of staying alive to see another day.

That’s not to say that your mother didn’t do her best for you, obviously. But it was hard to raise a child as a child in the midst of a global apocalypse. You were bound to end up the way you did — moulded and hardened by the world around you, by having to pick up a gun at seven years old and use it to protect your mother. By never putting that gun back down.

For the past few years, you had known your mother was suffering. The world had been anything but kind to her, and age was hitting her harder than she had expected. More than the physical aspect, you knew it had been destroying her, the fact that you were now the one protecting her and not the other way around.

But what choice did you have? Her aging body had left her fragile, prone to falling and breaking even more frail bones. You could see the strain on her muscles, as they slowly decayed and shrunk, until they were barely there at all. You couldn’t let her carry the burden for you anymore, because you knew her body couldn’t handle it.

You had been preparing yourself for that moment, though. Making sure that you were ready, that you were strong enough for the both of you, strong enough to shoulder the burden she had been carrying for years.

When you were growing up, your mother had told you tales of your father.

She had told you all about how strong he had been, how he had been the best man she had ever known. She told you how he had cared for his daughter before you, how he had been the best father to that girl. When you were old enough to comprehend these things, you’d asked what had happened to him. “Is dad dead?” You had asked her, watching the way her face fell.

“I don’t know, honey. I hope not.” She had responded, smiling sadly at you, and patting her hand against your cheek.

It was hard for you to let go of that.

The uncertainty had haunted you for the rest of your life since that very moment, leaving you wondering for hours at a time where he could possibly be, why he would ever leave your mother to carry this responsibility alone. And in your more selfish moments, you couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t here to care for you as he had his daughter before you.

For a long time, you had convinced yourself that he was dead, despite what your mother hoped. And sure, you felt that loss, something like mourning weighing you down, but it was the only way you felt you could accept his absence. He had to be dead, because otherwise, why wasn’t he here?

But as you grew up, getting taller, stronger, you felt like you could rationalise his absence even if he wasn’t dead. After all, the apocalypse wasn’t exactly family friendly. You figured that if your mother didn’t know whether or not your dad was alive, that the same could go for him. He might just think that you and your mom died, years ago. After all, how many pregnant women survived the end of the world?

You have a feeling that the answer would have to be not many.

So, really, you and your mother being alive by now was nothing short of a miracle. It was a testament to your mother’s strength, her ability. She had succeeded where so many others had failed, and she had managed to keep both herself and you alive.

It’s a bitter kind of irony that you can’t do the same.

The last dredges of autumn fall away, leading into the coldest and harshest part of the year. Winter is hard — it’s full to the brim with fresh Infected, the ones not yet frozen solid, and resources are more scarce than ever. And this winter feels like something tangible, something which sends unending waves of dread through you.

Your mother gets weaker by the day, spending more time resting than moving, and you spend as much time as you can keeping her warm, finding food and water and pain relief for her broken arm that didn’t heal right. She’s exhausted, you can see it in her face, in her every movement. And you’re pretty sure it’s not just from the lack of rest. She watches you with dulled eyes, something like heartbreak reflecting in them.

For a long time, you pretend not to notice.

You pretend that you don’t see the way she lags behind, just watching you move away from her with speed she can’t quite manage any longer. You pretend that you don’t see the way she hesitates before taking her painkillers, or her food, or the last sip of water.

This year, the winter brings something worse than the cold. A bug, spreading across the state in a way that was familiar to so many. Not quite the Infection, but still able to take out people with ease.

When your mother catches it, you physically felt your heart clench in your chest. You felt it squeezing all of the blood around your body so quickly that you became dizzy with it. There’s a panic so deep that you can’t climb your way out of it. For days, weeks, you’re certain that you’ve lost her. That after everything, everything you’ve done, everything the two of you have been through, a cold would be the end of it all.

But then, she gets better.

The little strength she had before the sickness returns to her, bringing some colour back to her skin, some ease back to her breathing.

Religion wasn’t a thing in the apocalypse. Not really. But if you had believed in God, you would’ve thanked every one that might’ve existed for giving you this. This miracle. This small mercy.

The two of you are in an abandoned barn when it happens.

You’re dozing away, not quite asleep, but not awake either, when you hear the sound of old hay crunching underneath boots. If you weren’t so familiar with the lightness of your mother’s footsteps, you might’ve passed it off as her wandering. But these boots are heavy. They’re purposeful.

The gun in your hand means nothing when you jerk upwards, eyes snapping open and squinting through the light let into the barn by the rising winter sun. It’s an image that has since been ingrained into the back of your skull, replaying each time you close your eyes.

There, right in front of you, is your mother.

Behind her, a man, a gun pressed to the back of her skull.

Your stomach lurched suddenly in that moment, the small rationed dinner you had before dozing off trying to rise to the back of your throat, trying to race the rapid beating of your heart to see which would kill you first.

“Put down the gun.” He said, voice cold, throat dry from the winter air. The sound of his voice is printed in the base of your brain, echoing every time things around you still, go quiet.

He could be bluffing, you thought in the moment. His gun could be unloaded. It didn’t take you long to notice that the safety was off, but in those few moments, he had pressed the end of it harder into your mother’s head. You dropped the gun to the floor without another moment of thought.

You were nauseous, waiting to wake up, to realise this was all some twisted nightmare.

But you could see a look in your mother’s eyes. Acceptance. Defeat. It was almost familiar to you, so closely related to the look she had been giving you for months.

All this time, she had just been waiting to die. Waiting for something to come along and kill her off, to free you from having to take care of her. She knew that if it was up to you, that you would look after her for the rest of your goddamn life. If she lived any longer, she might just live long enough to see you die.

“Slide it over.”

You barely registered the cold pinch of metal against your palm as you pushed the gun away from you, sending it skittering over the rough ground and into the side of an old hay bale.

“Now your pack.”

There was a numbness to you as you gripped the backpack you had been leaning against, and chucked it towards where he stood behind your mother. It hit the front of his boot, but his eyes didn’t stray from where he stared at you.

“Turn around.”

You stared at him, teeth gritted together.

“No.”

There was a beat where both him and your mother just watched you. And then the surprise flickered across his face, apparently not expecting any resistance from you.

“Turn. Around.” He told you, firmer this time.

“No.”

“Okay then,” He relented, after a moment of consideration. His eyes drifted down towards your mother, who stared forwards at you. “This your daughter?” He asked, jerking his head towards you despite knowing your mother couldn’t see the movement.

“Yes, she is,” Your mother said, voice shaking, her breath clouding in front of her face as it reached the cold air. “Please, just let her be.”

He hummed, dropping his free hand down to rest heavily on your mother’s shoulder, his fingers clamping around it and not helping the way she trembled.

“So, your momma, huh?” He asked you, a smirk drawing up his face, showing smile lines around his murky blue eyes. His hair rustled in the wind, a piece falling down across his forehead. He stared at you, and you stared at him, not daring to say a word, still hoping that this whole thing was a dream. Muscles in his cheek twitched, pulling his skin taut and showing a scar across his left cheekbone. “Good.”

There was a moment where the sound didn’t register. A moment where you didn’t even realise it was your mother when the body slumped forwards. A mere moment where you didn’t think about it being her blood that splattered across your face.

The moments after that though, become blurry, hazed over, and you’re not sure it actually ever hit you that the body before you was your mother.

You’ve always had a hard time remembering that bodies were once people, that they once had lives and loved ones and thoughts and feelings. That they weren’t just bodies. So seeing her like that, as a body, not her, was wrong on so many levels. It didn’t feel real. Nothing did.

You heard the second gunshot, just a moment later, followed by a snickering laugh that you would never forget, before the pain bloomed in you.

It was buried by the shock, the complete disbelief, and you only felt the pain for mere seconds.

His gun — the one that killed your mother — was whacked across the side of your head a moment after, and that was the end of that.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Three months passed by, judging by the way the seasons turned, and you were on your own.

It was a strange feeling, really. Throughout the entirety of your life, you had never actually been alone. At least, not really. Your mother was always a small ways away, a mere shout from running to you. There had never been any true distance between the two of you until that day.

A sort of ache claws your throat each day, when you realise that it’s easier like this.

The only back you have to watch is your own, the only life you have to worry about belongs to you, and you have nothing to lose in this world. There was no terrible outcome if you were caught. Nobody else would be hurt, or suffer because of it. And you’re less likely to be caught now, when you don’t have your mother slowing you down. You don’t have to stop for the frequent rest breaks she needed, you can try to outrun Infected without worrying about someone lagging behind, and you only have yourself to feed.

If your mother had known how much easier survival was when alone, you hope that she would’ve abandoned you at birth. Because perhaps, without the burden of you upon her shoulders, she wouldn’t have fallen apart so quickly.

Sometimes, you like to think of a world where she was spared all of this. Never pregnant with you, for a start. So when the infection broke out, she would’ve only had herself to worry about. You think that maybe, one day, she would’ve been able to reunite with your father. If she hadn’t been carrying a child, she would’ve been able to manage the journey to where she believed him to be. You look at the picture that had been in the pocket of her coat for your whole life, the papers folded and clipped to the back of it, one word underlined: Boston.

You had reached a store in the weeks after that day, and when you found a map, it wasn’t difficult to notice that the direction the two of you had been heading in was to that very city.

It’s a long shot. More than a long shot, really, but you find yourself continuing in that direction regardless. You don’t know what you hope to find in Boston, whether it was your dad, or the man who had killed your mother, or perhaps just somewhere to take shelter for a while. You try not to hope for anything. You try not to focus on the fact that you might not even make it that far.

It keeps you up for days.

The uncertainty of it. The unknown. The fact that you’re walking your way to a city you know nothing about, almost certain that your mother’s killer was already there, and more than that, consumed by a fever that might kill you regardless of the where the journey took you.

The only sleep you get results in fever dreams, rippling, warping images that make your perception falter, feeling all too real until you notice that it’s not. And when you do wake up from them, it’s as if you haven’t slept at all. An exhaustion weighs heavily upon you, and your shoulders hunch over with it. There’s almost nothing you wouldn’t do to get rid of that endless feeling.

You hope—or wish, maybe— that if you reach Boston, the journey there will have tired you out so much that your body will have no choice but to rest. It’s a distant thought in your mind, though. You’re almost certain you won’t make it that far, because if the fever doesn’t get you, surely the Infected will.

It’s not as though you’re trying to get killed. But there is a kind of peace that comes with the thought. There’s an idea of rest behind it, hiding within the shadowy depths that make you scared. Would not having to fight in order to survive really be so terrible? You have this image in mind, of a never ending blackness, a void, somewhere that your thoughts and worries can just fizzle away. The small part of your fever-fried brain that has retained its rationality reminds you of the unknown. It reminds you that death could be worse than this.

You don’t like the thought. Not after that day. It’s a shuddering feeling, wondering if your mother is in some kind of unreachable hell.

By the time you’re even close to Boston, a few hours out at most, you’re out of ammo in the gun you’d found along the way. Out of food rations. No knife, no resources. You’re barely standing on two legs, kept up by the adrenaline, the knowledge alone that you’re this close.

When the tall walls of the QZ finally come into view, you start to feel some amount of hope. Which is a dangerous thing, but especially in a situation as dire as your own. You couldn’t afford any adrenaline fading, couldn’t afford to lose your cautious nature. You couldn’t make a mistake. One wrong move, one slight misstep, and you’d be as dead as your mother. Or worse, infected. Though this close to a QZ, you had some amount of relief at the knowledge that they should’ve cleared out any nearby infected. Runners, and clickers alike.

Your steps don’t falter for a moment. Partly because of your worry about the fever taking you out, but mostly because you’re certain that the FEDRA guards on watch on top of the wall will have spotted you, and you don’t want them to think you’re Infected, just because of your sickly appearance, and shoot on sight. Though, with FEDRA’s track record, it wouldn’t surprise you if they just shot you down regardless.

For a while, you’re not sure if you’re even awake, or if perhaps you were stuck in yet another fever dream. Everything felt so real and so not real simultaneously, it felt impossible to believe that you had actually made it.

Soldiers met you on your approach, calling out for you to get on the ground with your hands up. You called back some sort of response as you did so, practically collapsing to your knees and squeezing your eyes shut at the pain that followed. But despite all of it, despite the pain and the rough hands that grabbed you and pulled you forwards, through the gates and straight into a building, you had made it to Boston.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was maybe three weeks into being a resident of the Boston QZ that you caught wind of him for the first time. Or, at the very least, somebody who might be him. You didn’t know how common the surname Miller was, being a child of the apocalypse, but you kind of hoped the answer was uncommon.

“Goddamn Miller, again.” A man had muttered as you walked through the trading market. You paused almost instantly, pretending to peruse the feeble amount of clothes a woman had to trade. “Said we gotta go through him and Tess if we want anything, as if we gotta listen to them.” He practically spat out, glaring around as he spoke to the woman beside him.

“They’re the most well established smugglers in the whole goddamn QZ. Don’t have to tell you how, do I?” She asked, sounding more annoyed with her companion than she was with whoever Miller and Tess were. “Joel is as nasty as they come, Darren. Don’t get on the wrong side of him.”

Your heart practically stuttered to a stop in your chest, and you had to remind yourself to keep breathing. Could it possibly be a coincidence? Could there be another Joel Miller? One who wasn’t your father? Sure, it was possible. Plausible, even, considering the fact that you had absolutely no idea if he was here. Not any concrete idea, anyway. Your mother had believed as much, but who was to say she was right?

Besides, whoever this Joel Miller was didn’t sound like the man your mother had told you about. As nasty as they come didn’t have any relation to the heroic and kind and amazing father and man your mother always spoke about. Though, you knew as well as anyone what the apocalypse could do to people.

Darren didn’t say anything else to his companion. So, after a few more moments, you continued on your way, making the journey to the tiny box apartment that FEDRA had elected to you.

But even as you got there, sitting down on the poor excuse of a mattress, you couldn’t shake the conversation out of your mind. After everything you had been through to get here, what was it all for? Could you really make this journey and just never try to find Joel Miller? Your father? You could still remember the anxiety that had come when you first arrived, when you were strapped into a chair and scanned for the fungus that had taken over so many. You didn’t know what you were more scared of: the idea that it would flash red, and you’d be killed, or the idea that it would be clear, and you’d be sent out into the QZ, where you may just find the other half of your DNA.

You don’t even know if you want to find out anything about him. Don’t know if you could face that, especially after losing your mother. That’s been the hardest thing since being here, since having your own place, the fact that you’ve gotten it all without her. It feels… empty. For your whole life, she had been there at your side, making every short stay at whatever accommodation you could find feel like home.

Plus, even if you did consider trying to find him, and if it was him those people were talking about, then who the hell was Tess? What if she got upset at your appearance, your claim as Joel Miller’s surviving child? You’re not sure you can lose another parent.

Sure — Joel Miller wasn’t exactly your dad, he couldn’t be classed as a parent in the way that your mother was, but if you never met him, that could’ve been for any number of reasons. He could be dead. He could’ve thought you and your mother were dead, all these years. You didn’t want to face a reality where you met him, and he wasn’t present for you and your mother because he didn’t want to be. You’d rather live your whole life thinking him six feet under, than know he was out there, and just didn’t care about you.

The more you think about it, the more certain you are that Boston was a mistake.

It would all be different if your mother was alive. If she had brought you here, if she had been the one to hear the chatter about Joel Miller, if she had been the one to seek him out. But she was dead, and the only living connection you had to Joel was, too. Hypothetically, if you did seek him out, you didn’t know enough about him to prove your claim as his child, and without your mother, how could you make him believe you?

They had been a family, once. They being Joel, your mother, and your deceased half sister. You’d heard the tale of how Joel and your mother had met, of how it took months for him to finally feel comfortable introducing her to his little girl. Hell, you had heard almost as much about Sarah as you had about Joel. Your mother had certainly adored his daughter, and you’re somewhat sure that they had planned to have you, despite Sarah already being a teenager.

You don’t want to have to mourn a family you had never actually had. Perhaps, Joel and Sarah were out there, living their lives certain that you and your mother were dead, just as you and your mother had done.

Not that any of this even mattered — you didn’t even know for sure if it was the same Joel Miller! And even if it was, it’s not like Boston QZ was small. There’s absolutely no chance you run into the man who might just be your dad. No way.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You find someone else, before you hear anything more about Joel Miller, and it immediately sends the thought of your biological dad to the very back of your mind.

After all, it’s not every day you see the man who murdered your mother.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise. You had guessed that this was the place he was heading, all those moons ago. But to actually see him, here, in the flesh, alive and well despite all of the pain and heartache and devastation he had caused you? It was surreal. You had to practically pinch your skin from your body to make yourself believe he was real.

And it only really hits you now, that this man killed your mother. You had been so focused on surviving, on living to see another day, on healing and moving and getting away from her body, buried in shallow dirt outside of some abandoned barn. You can vividly remember the strength it had taken to pry the frozen dirt from the ground.

Sure, you had felt the guilt over it, the guilt over the ease that came with surviving without her, guilt over your very existence, but you’re not sure you had ever actually grieved over her. Not sure if you had ever let yourself be sad, be angry, be anything about what had happened.

But now, seeing him, you feel… almost too much.

All of the rage and grief you had squashed in favour of surviving another day, all of the sadness and fear, all of it. It all comes rushing towards you at once, hitting you in the chest, winding you. You gasp for breath on the street, ducking away for a moment, gripping your chest like you could physically hold your heart steady.

When you look back out at the street, you see him as he nears the corner. Panic grips you at the thought of losing him, of never seeing him again, of failing to avenge your mother. You follow after him before you can think better of it.

It’s strangely easy. You fall back into the life of a hunter like it’s the most natural thing you’ve ever known — and maybe it is. You’re healed up, by now, or about as healed as anybody gets in this world, and your shoulder only bothers you when you move it too much. Even with that, you’re pretty sure that you could take the man on. Now that you’re not hazy with sleep, caught off guard, held back by any sort of earthly tether.

You’re strong. And despite FEDRA’s harsh reign, their dire consequences for rule-breaking, you have a switchblade stuffed into your shoe. You could do it. You could kill him.

There’s no question about it in your mind, especially as you follow him from a distance, and he remains none the wiser. He takes a left, and a moment later, so do you. He’s clueless. It’s almost painful that he was the one who managed to get the jump on you. How could you have let this man kill your mother?

He skids to a stop outside of a doorway, so you slide down the wall of the building opposite and listen. He pays you no mind as he knocks twice on the door.

“What d’you want, Colin?” The man who opened the door asked gruffly, seemingly inconvenienced by the man. He sounded tired, or out of it, maybe.

“I need the supply.” Colin answered, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down the back of your neck. It echoed in your ears, the words he said that day. Good. Everything in you itched, like thousands of critters had dug into you and made a home scuttling around your insides. You wanted to kill him. You wanted to end his life, and you wanted to make it slow. Brutal. Painful. Even if it meant you were hung by FEDRA tomorrow morning. It’d be worth it.

The man at the door sighed, as if deeply bothered by getting Colin what he needed, and disappeared inside. He emerged a moment later, empty handed. “I’m all out. You’ll have to go across town tomorrow.” The man said flatly, saying nothing as Colin swore, before stepping away.

You ducked your head down as Colin passed, all too aware of the man in the doorway watching you suspiciously. After a moment, he sighed again, and retreated inside, slamming the door after himself. It took almost no time at all for you to push yourself back to your feet, and take off after the man who had left.

Despite your pounding footsteps against cracked concrete, he didn’t pay you any mind as you caught up to him. He seemed focused on getting to wherever it was that he was unknowingly leading you to, glancing up at the darkening sky every other step. FEDRA’s curfew would be coming into play soon enough.

To your disappointment, he walked into an apartment building, about three blocks away from your own. It seemed that, unless you were willing to risk being caught and stopped, today wasn’t the day you would be avenging your mother. You vowed that tomorrow you would do it. You would kill Colin. No matter what got in your way.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

By the time curfew was lifted, you had been waiting by the exit of your building for an hour.

The switchblade in your shoe felt heavy with every step you took towards the home of your mother’s killer. It weighed almost as much as the picture in your pocket. All of it was heavy. But you acted as normally as you could manage, passing by patrolling FEDRA guards without them so much as glancing towards you.

You were waiting by his building when the door opened, when he stepped out, and headed determinedly in the opposite direction from which you had come. You followed without a moment of hesitation.

He made his way around town, trading with a few people on the side of the streets, handing them small wads of ration cards in favour of various items. Nothing dangerous, though. Not to you. He clearly was oblivious to your loitering figure, standing a few metres away, like some omen of death. Despite your shadow reaching for his shoes as the sun rose, he didn’t flinch.

It was irritating you, just how easy this was. You had been following the man for two days now, and he hadn’t even noticed. How had he gotten the drop on you? How had he managed to kill your mother? How had you allowed him the opportunity to do so?

There was nothing remotely special about him — no reason that he should have survived over your mother, no reason that he should have been granted mercy over the last twenty years. He didn’t deserve it. Not like your mother had. She had done the best she could, for years, for the only daughter in her care. And she had done it all alone. This man, Colin, he was alone, and he had no reason to hurt her. You were going to make sure he regretted it.

You loomed at the entrance of an alleyway as he walked down it, finally stopping at a dead end, leaning against the brick wall as if he was waiting for something. Or someone. You knew it wasn’t you he was waiting for, so you bided your time, cautious of someone happening upon the two of you. If they had business with him, they would care. If they didn’t, then nobody but FEDRA would care.

By the time you finally decided to move, almost an hour had passed, and Colin was facing away from you at the entrance of the alley, head pressed to the bricks.

It was strange, what the innate desire to hunt and kill could bring out in you, that it could make you move silently without thinking about it. It could make you reach for the blade in your shoe, without so much as a rustle of your clothes.

With a final glance back at the entrance of the alleyway, you grew impatient, and you attacked.

From an outside perspective, you probably looked like some kind of wild animal. You jumped at him, tackling him, pushing him sideways and landing on his back as his shoulder smacked the asphalt, and he howled in pain. It was like seeing a cheetah hunt an antelope, the way you bored down on him. If you could have widened your jaws, and ripped out his insides, you think you would have.

But without that ability, you could only press the cold metal blade to his throat, and feel him go still.

“Do you remember me?” You asked, voice flat and still, despite the way your heart felt as though it would beat out of your chest, and splatter down in front of his face. You were quieter than you had expected, too. You thought that the words would burst out of you, vicious and unending, but they were quiet. Calm.

Colin shook his head, as much as he could with the side of his face pressed to the ground, and a blade to the soft skin of his neck.

“Think about it.”

His eyes strained to try and get a look at you, and they widened as you leant sideways slightly, allowing him to gaze at your blank face. “Oh, shit,” He said, mouth fumbling around the words.

“Yeah, shit.” You repeated, waiting for satisfaction to seep into your chest cavity, waiting for the grief to fade away.

It didn’t.

Nothing changed, even as you pressed the blade closer to his throat, even as you watched his eyes dart back and forth, as you watched him try and formulate a plan to survive. “Listen, kid—” He started, throat bobbing against the knife, drawing the tiniest line of blood. You watched him bleed, and expected to feel more than numb.

He threw your weight backwards, sacrificing more skin on his throat to your knife. You went flying off of him, but you flung yourself forward faster than he could stagger up, and dug the knife into his calf as he tried to stand. His yell pierced the air, louder than any of the commotion yet, and likely drawing attention of people out on the street. You just hoped, distantly, that FEDRA wasn’t around.

His flesh and muscle moved as you pulled the blade free, and you didn’t flinch at the squelch of blood that left him alongside it.

Colin fell back to the floor, resulting in crawling along the asphalt without care for how the small stones cut into his palms, leaving streaks of blood. “You don’t gotta do this, man, chill out!” His voice had more emotion in it than it had back when he killed your mother, which was infuriating. “It wasn’t personal!” He insisted, crawling further as you got to your feet, prowling after him similarly to the wild animal you felt like.

You’d disagree with his statement, though.

He already had your pack, you had already relinquished your gun — the only thing you refused to do was turn so you could be executed. If you were going to be killed, you were going to look your murderer in the eye. Instead of that, though, Colin had decided to make it personal. He had decided to kill your mother, to spread her brains out on the ground in front of you, to cover you in her blood, rather than spare her. And then, worse, he had let you live.

That seemed pretty personal.

“You killed my mom.” You stated, getting closer as he turned so he was facing you, watching you get closer. “D’you remember what you said to me?”

He shook his head.

“You said good. You were glad that it was my mother. Admit it, Colin. Tell the world all about how not-personal it was.”

More than anything, you wanted to feel satisfaction for how badly he was trembling beneath you, for how scared you were making him. But you just didn’t. Fear wasn’t enough. Not for what this man had done to you.

“I’m—I’m sorry.” He said, shaking, still shying away from you,

“No, you’re not. You’re sorry that I’m here, that you’re going to die. And that isn’t something to be sorry for.”

“Pl—Please, I have a daughter—a son, you don’t need to do this.” He begged, tearing up as he watched your grip on the switchblade tighten, watched you continue to approach. He was pathetic. Everything about him was pathetic.

“She had a daughter, too.”

His eyes widened as you leaped at him once again, digging your knife as deep as you could get it into his shoulder, feeling it graze bone as you pushed the hilt firmly against his skin, until you could practically hear the blood vessels breaking. He howled, a wounded animal, prey. And he did nothing as your fist descended against his face, once, twice, a third time.

It was just as you were losing count that somebody grabbed you, hauling you up and away from the body sprawled out on the floor, the puddle of blood slowly expanding beneath him. His chest was stuttering, but he had stopped groaning minutes ago.

“Well, shit.” A woman’s voice said, not sounding particularly authoritarian, so you figured she wasn’t FEDRA.

The hands grasping onto your arms released them shortly after, and you dropped to the asphalt, watching Colin’s chest closely, waiting for his breathing to stop. It didn’t seem to be slowing much, and you could feel that unending wave of rage coming back to you, overruling the numbness, and enhancing your need to have him dead.

You moved the slightest bit, about to launch yourself at him, but as soon as your foot was pushing you from your spot on the ground, the hands wrapped around your arms again.

“Fuck! Get off of me!”

“We can’t let you kill the guy, for fuck’s sake. We got business with him!” The woman spoke again, sounding increasingly irate as she moved to get between you and your mother’s murderer.

“He deserves to die. He deserves to be killed. Get off!” You practically roared, resorting to a state not unlike a feral cat, spitting and hissing, spine curling, trying to claw at the hands holding onto you. They stayed steady, even when you managed to scratch one of them deep enough to break skin.

The woman swore again, “Everybody deserves to die, get a hold of yourself!”

“Tess, ‘s probably best if we get him out of here.” The man gripping you said, voice straining slightly as he focused on keeping you restrained. He couldn’t do anything but hold on to you and watch as Tess dragged the guy, by his ankle, down the alley slightly, banging on a side door that you hadn’t even noticed. It opened, and the man inside swore before helping Tess grab the guy and haul him inside.

As soon as the door was safely shut, the man released you.

You walked to the end of the alley, gripping at the back of your head, swearing the whole way. You were probably screaming, given the way your throat was grating on every word, but the sound didn’t register.

“Joel, you’d better get in here.” Tess called, poking her head out of the door. You could hear the irritation in her voice, but it was immediately sent to the back of your mind as you realised what she had actually just said. You whirled around.

He wasn’t exactly what you were expecting.

But he was… familiar.

You couldn’t help it — you laughed, almost hysterically.

“Are you kidding me?” You said, voice strained with laughter, “You are Joel? Miller?” You asked, wanting him to say no and be done with it all so badly, but you knew that he wouldn’t say that. It was ingrained in your blood, in your very DNA.

He stared uncomprehendingly at you, as if expecting a spark of recognition to go through him, but it didn’t happen. You saw Tess step cautiously out of the building, apparently prepared to have Joel’s back, no matter what your next move was.

“Who are you?” Joel asked, instead of answering your question, or even making a move towards where you had begun to cry. If only he fucking knew — he had just saved the man who had murdered your mother, who had murdered the woman who was, once upon a time, his wife.

You reached into your pocket, uncaring of the way they both reached for what you assumed were weapons, and pulled out the photo. The moment you unfolded it, revealing him stood next to your mother, it was certain. This man was your father. You held the photo out towards him.

“Joel—” Tess warned, as he stepped forward, but he dismissed her with a look, clearly communicating that he could handle himself. He wasn’t worried, despite the state Colin had been in when they had arrived.

He stared at the photo, brows creasing, face drawing blank, before he reached out and took it. His finger ran across the image of your mother, her bright smile, not a slither of grey to be seen in her hair. “How did you get this?” He asked, clearly in disbelief, denial, maybe.

You pointed to the woman in the picture. “That’s—was my mom.”

It could’ve been funny, months, maybe years ago, the way his eyes flickered between you and the image of her, as if trying to put together how much of the statement was true. You vaguely noticed Tess shift uneasily behind him, before approaching.

“Was?” Joel decided to ask, eventually, instead of whatever else was going through his head. He said nothing to Tess as she took in the photograph he was still holding onto.

“That man, he—he killed her. A few months ago.” You said, smiling, because you couldn’t do anything else. This was all too much. First, your mother is killed. And then when you finally find somewhere potentially safe, you hear about your father. And then before you could do anything about that, you see her killer! And then, before you could finish the job, your biological dad, Joel Miller, saved his life. It wasn’t funny, but you didn’t know how else to react.

You stepped back, sliding down the brick wall behind you until you were sat on the asphalt, and could hang your head between your knees.

“Oh fuck,” Tess said, connecting the dots as she looked between you and Joel rapidly, brows furrowed as she became increasingly concerned. “Don’t tell me that she’s—” She shook her head, turning away from the photo and Joel and you, running a hand through her greasy hair.

Joel was still processing, or at least that’s what it looked like to you. He was staring at the photo, strangely still, seeming blank of any and all emotions.

Tess paced for a moment more, before releasing a heavy breath. She walked past Joel, over to you. “Okay, c’mon.” She said, holding out a hand for you. When you hesitated, she waved her hand and barely refrained from putting it in your face. “C’mon, we’ve gotta get you out of here before Colin goes to FEDRA.” You take her hand, surprised by her strength as she hauls you to your feet in an instant, releasing you immediately. She shook her head again. “Joel, time to go.”

He looked at her, and then towards you, nodding once. You said nothing when he put the picture in his own pocket, instead of handing it back. You hesitantly followed after Tess, wondering what your next move should be, and Joel followed after the two of you, looking stricken.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

None of you had said anything, the entire time Tess had hurried you through borders and to what you assumed was their apartment. It felt like it was miles away from your own.

The wallpaper was yellowed with age, slowly drooping down the walls, peeling away at corners, but it wasn’t the worst state it could’ve been in. The floral pattern didn’t really lend itself to the vibes of the apocalypse, though. Nor did it match either Tess or Joel’s stoic and tough demeanours.

You had no idea what to expect from this.

For as long as you could remember, your mother had told you tales of your father, of the great man he was, the great father he was. But here, on the other side of a worldwide outbreak of infection, you couldn’t quite match the image in front of you to the man in those stories. You had spent so long thinking of him as being dead, unable to do anything to find you or your mother from a grave, that to learn he was alive, and with Tess, it was a shock to your system.

Where was Sarah? Where was the half-sister you had heard so much about from your mother?

Despite Joel matching the name, and the photo that your mother had kept, it just didn’t feel like he was the man you had been imagining as your father. He didn’t seem kind or caring, he didn’t look like he had any love left in him. And maybe, you could have accepted that, if he had other aspects to him, if he hadn’t let your mother’s killer live.

“What happened the day of the outbreak?” You asked, finally, despite the way you ached to run away and cry, for your mother, for yourself, for the father you would never have. Joel just looked at you, rarely blinking as if you were a figment of his imagination, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“No, we are asking you questions.” Tess responded, clearly taking the lead on the situation, despite having no connection to you. It really shouldn’t have been her business. You scoffed. “Where did you come from?” She asked you, unblinking in the face of your disbelief.

You shook your head, “How is that even relevant?”

“Because I said it is.”

“I don’t care what you say. He’s my dad. You’re not my mom.” You replied, roughly, angrily, and you’re only more irritated when Tess doesn’t even react. You become furious when Joel says nothing. “Are you going to say anything?”

Tess went to speak, but you spoke again before she could utter a word.

“Not even about how you let my mother’s killer go? You don’t have anything to say about that?” You questioned, stepping towards him where he had taken a seat on the couch in front of that god-forsaken wallpaper.

There was an awkward lull in the room, each of you waiting for Joel to speak. He seemed unsure if he was going to speak at all, his brows furrowing further, and he pulled the photo out of his pocket to look at once again.

“She died, years ago. My—my kids…” Joel swallowed, and shook his head. He placed the photo down beside him. The photo meant nothing. You could’ve been to his house, and brought it here with you, never having met the woman he hadn’t seen since the day the world fell apart.

“Did you even look for us?” You asked him, head tilting, eyes stinging, wanting desperately for him to say yes, to say he scoured the world but missed you somehow. But looking at him, covered with scars, you could see he was nothing like the man your mother remembered. He didn’t care, not like she thought he had. The man in front of you wasn’t your father — he was a disappointment. He was your father’s shell.

Joel didn’t speak, swallowing harshly, seemingly unable to form any words.

“You’re nothing like she said you were.” You told him quietly, shaking your head, reaching by his side and taking the picture. You wanted to rip his half off, throw it at him, denounce him, tell him he wasn’t your father, that he was never worthy of your mother, but you couldn’t. It was the only thing that you would ever have of the father you should’ve had. The man your mother had loved. She’d already had so much taken from her, you couldn’t, even after her death, take Joel away too. He could live on in the memory. In pictures.

They didn’t say anything when you turned your back on them, shoving the picture in your pocket, and walking out of their door. You slammed it behind you, felt the walls of their apartment tremble with the force, and kept walking.

Part of you, a big part, wished that Joel Miller would have stayed dead. At least that way, you could have kept pretending.

[tossawary]

A weirdly formative movie for me was "The Slipper and the Rose" (1976), which is a live-action movie adaptation of the Cinderella fairy tale set in some made-up European country. It is also a musical. I think it's fun and funny and sometimes quite sweet and I really like it as a comfort movie. It's kind of long and a little slow and old-fashioned and silly, and the ending is a little flat, but there are several songs that are just... about various logistical and humorous realities of being royalty... and I thought that was just fascinating as a young teenager who liked historical fantasy fiction.

(I excitedly tried to show it to a friend once and she was like, "WHAT am I watching?" She was bored during the dance sequences. It's quite different to the "(Rodgers and Hammerstein's) Cinderella" movie from 1997 starring Brandy. They're entirely different Cinderella musicals.)

The king and queen (and the dowager queen and the prince's cousin who will inherit if he doesn't marry) have a song sung to the prince called: "What Has Love Got To Do With Getting Married?"

The prince has a companion-at-arms (servant) named John and they have a really funny song together in the royal family's mausoleum, where the prince is like, "No matter what I do, I'm just going to end up buried next to these kings. Let me tell you all about how much they sucked as people." (It's called "What A Comforting Thing To Know" and it's probably my favorite song.)

The king and his ministers have a song all about the protocol for throwing a ball ("Protocoliogorically Correct"), because they don't want to offend anyone and accidentally start a war (again).

The prince's servant, John, is in love with Lady Caroline, who is the lady-in-waiting / companion to the dowager queen, but they can't get married because they're apparently too far apart in status. After the ball, when the prince is failing to find Cinderella, there's an entire song ("Position And Positioning") where John, the castle servants, and guards and civilians explain to the prince that there are ranks among servants and servants aren't as free to marry for love as the prince thinks they are. They even take the prince into the kitchens and are like, "Here are a bunch of other servants that you never see and barely knew existed, dude. They're going to do an extended dance number about this."

There are other musical numbers in this movie, including the romantic ("He/She Danced With Me") and heartbreaking ("Tell Him Anything") songs you would expect from a Cinderella story, but I mostly remember the humorous songs that actually engaged with the worldbuilding. I hadn't really seen a "fairy tale" movie do that before to that degree. (I'd seen books adapting fairy tales do it many times, but they don't have musical numbers.)

I think both "What A Comforting Thing To Know" and "Position And Positioning" are both worth watching by themselves, just for how unique they are among the many different Cinderella adaptations, and the movie clips are easy to find online. Go look them up if any of this sounds neat to you!

[lushrue]

cold beer on a friday night

heard "a little bit of chicken fried" in a white people anthems compilation the other day and i immediately started thinking of everyone’s favorite southern boy, phillip graves! so have some good ol’ cowboy smut for your weekend! (also did not expect this to be almost 4k words, but here we are)

afab!reader (she/her pronouns used), nsfw, minors dni!!

cw: drinking, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, creampie, heavy praise kink

the bar was pretty packed, but you expected that it would be.

living in a military town, you’d learned when the busy times were. weekends, most evenings after 8 PM, and holidays. this one was the biggest one of all in your community, fourth of july looming around the corner and bringing star-spangled festivity with it. the bar itself was adorned with an american flag banner that people would occasionally toast to before taking a shot. the string lights above the patio had been changed from their pale yellow to shine red, white, and blue. occasionally, as you sat there drinking your cheap beer, someone would break out in a drunken rendition of the star-spangled banner, causing everyone to either sing along or raise their glass in solidarity.

it was entertaining for you, if nothing else. watching men who’d made their country their whole lives celebrate it was its own brand of inspiring. the town felt the same around memorial day and veteran’s day too. you’d been pretty staunchly anti-military for most of your adult life, holding the belief in world peace that only someone who hadn’t experienced war could. but seeing these men who wouldn’t have known each other if not for their brotherhood of service expressing their love for their country, it almost made you want to believe in their cause. still, despite the atmosphere, patriotism wasn’t the foremost thing in your mind tonight.

you weren’t expecting to find the love of your life, not in a place like this. it was hardly the fairytale castle you’d envisioned as a little girl and the men here were certainly no prince charming. all you could ask for was someone to treat you right for a night. focus on you a little bit, take his time. if you got real lucky, maybe he’d even make you cum. the proverbial bar wasn’t in hell, but it was close enough to feel the flames. it’d been months since your deadbeat of an ex-boyfriend dumped you, and despite how bad of an idea your friends had told you it was, you were looking for a rebound. nothing serious or long-term, just a good fuck to set you right and then you could be on your way. it was hard to get anywhere in the dating scene with this insatiable ache between your legs.

you nursed your budweiser, the condensation leaking between your fingertips as you took a drink from the bottle. it tasted like piss, but like everyone always says, you don’t drink for the taste. weary eyes scan the bar and its patrons, looking for anyone who isn’t already fall-on-their-face drunk. it was slim pickins; almost everyone here had started their evening of debauchery hours ago with no signs of stopping. the sober ones were mostly grizzled veterans, watching the younger soldiers with a glint of something akin to nostalgia. you supposed that must have been them once, disregarding their livers for a night of fun with buddies that they could lose in an instant. they certainly wouldn’t be scratching your itch for you anytime soon, so your gaze moved on. 

finally, your eyes settled on a blond man sitting by himself at a high top. you’d seen him here before a couple of times. he was always alone, on the fringes of whatever drunken activity was going on. you’d never seen him so much as stumble while he was here, downing his couple of whiskeys in peace before closing out and heading home. he was handsome, you supposed. older than you, but not enough to make anyone clutch their pearls. muscular, scar on his cheek. still clearly military, but a bit more weathered than the twenty-somethings throwing back jaegerbombs.

little did you know, he’d seen you too. he’d seen how you came every weekend, like clockwork, looking like you were begging for company. it was sweet, he thought, how desperate you were for attention. you were like a puppy with those doe eyes of yours. just begging to be noticed, to be taken into someone’s arms and loved proper. he was sure you tasted as sweet as you looked. just as your eyes met his, you looked away with a blush. had he caught you staring? you couldn’t be sure. you cursed yourself for your bashfulness, clutching the neck of your beer bottle a little tighter. how were you ever going to get laid if you didn’t go for it?

luckily, your military man wasn’t one to wait around. he got up from his table, sauntering towards you with a confidence that was completely innate. this wasn’t born of liquid courage. no, he knew he had something you wanted. you clear your throat and look up as he lays his hand on the chair across from you. “this seat taken?” he asked, his voice slow and easy like he wasn’t in a hurry. nobody was around here, you supposed. you shake your head no and he takes it as an invitation. the chair pulled out with a squeaking noise drowned out by someone breaking out into “my country 'tis of thee.”

you take another swig of beer to loosen your tongue and give you some charisma that you wouldn’t have sober. the man held his hand out to you, his tumbler full of amber in the other. “i’m phillip. you can call me phil.” you take his hand without a second thought, shaking politely. god, how bad off were you if touching a man’s hand made you practically feral? you give your name in reply, withdrawing your hand before your mind runs off with unsavory images. the last thing you needed was to scare off the one eligible bachelor in the bar who’d seen fit to approach you. a cursory glance at his left hand revealed no wedding ring. you weren’t looking to add “homewrecker” to your long list of accomplishments.

“what’s a lovely lady like you doin’ all by herself?” he asked in a charming southern drawl that made your blood pump a little faster. it reminded you of those cheap cowboy romance novels that you sometimes indulged in. everyone had their guilty pleasures, after all. “enjoyin’ the atmosphere,” you quip back, sarcasm dripping from your words. you take another drink of beer. phil leans forward, his weight shifting to his muscular forearms. your eyes drop down, struggling not to salivate at the sight. it really had been too long. he tips a finger under your chin, guiding your gaze back up to him. “i think the atmosphere’d be better someplace else,” he said, his voice low so as not to be overheard. maybe it was just how pent up you were, but you could swear there was desire undercutting his words. “whaddya say, darlin’? how ‘bout you and me get on outta here?”

you have to stop yourself from replying too quickly. you didn’t want to show your hand and reveal your desperation just yet. he smirked when you nodded slowly, your muscles tense with the effort of holding back your excitement. didn’t you know he could smell it on you from across the bar? ever the gentleman, phil closed out both your tabs. there wasn’t much on yours anyways, just a couple of budweisers and one vodka cranberry that you’d stopped drinking halfway through. as you stood beside him at the bar, watching the bartender run his card, he wrapped his arm around your waist. his fingers dug into the plush of your hip with a subtle possessiveness meant to ward off any other interested parties. it sent a thrill through you, your panties getting more uncomfortable the longer you stood there.

thankfully, the cool night air outside the bar leveled your head a bit. not enough to make you think deeply about your decision to get into a strange man’s truck, but enough to keep you from jumping his bones the moment the door shut. you climbed up into the passenger seat, feeling for your pepper spray in your purse. just in case, you told yourself. handsome men could be creeps too. you barely noticed him getting into the driver’s seat, turning the engine over and pulling out of the gravel parking lot.

you two make it maybe five miles down the road before you have to stop. you keep throwing glances at phil, watching his concentration while he drives. you’ve never been able to explain it, but there’s something so sexy about a man with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. he keeps kneading into the fat, fingertips brushing the muscle underneath with how hard he’s squeezing. you’re soft, he thinks. plush, pliant, perfect. the air is charged, the silence comfortable but tinged with the anticipation of what’s to come. it’s when he feels your thighs clench together that he pulls off onto a little dirt road, the tires kicking up dust. on some level, you’re grateful for his lack of restraint. you weren’t sure you were going to last much longer either.

you clamber into his backseat, careful not to mar the leather with your stiletto heels. he climbs back there with you, settling into the seat and patting his thigh. “c’mere, pretty girl,” he says sweetly, and you maneuver yourself to straddle his lap. the heat of your cunt is right against him now and his hands clench around your hips. he can practically smell how needy you are. you bite your lip to stifle a whine, the firmness of him through his jeans providing delicious pressure on your clit. suddenly, you’re thanking god for little red dresses. phillip’s eyes flutter shut as he bucks his hips, pressing his erection against you a little harder. that elicits the sound he wanted and he chuckles, his laugh like rolling thunder.

“it’s been too long since that pretty pussy’s had any attention, huh, sweetheart?” he asks. you can hear a tone of condescension, but you don’t care. not when there is a warm body beneath you about to soothe the ache that’s been there since your ex moved out. you nod in response and he hums, tugging the straps of your dress down. “in a minute, darlin’. i’ll get to her later. there’s other parts of you i’d like to get acquainted with first.” you’re putty in his hands, mindlessly nodding along with everything he says. he could tell you he’s taking you out in the woods to kill you and you’d be fine with it as long as he fucked you first. the top half of your dress falls away as he tugs at the zipper, pulling it down just enough to reveal your chest. you’d made a good choice of bra that night at least: your favorite black push-up with lace all over and a pretty bow in the center. he sucks air in through his teeth as he stares at you. he likes it too.

“as pretty as this little number is, i don’t wanna ruin it,” he says, his fingers ghosting down your spine to the clasp of your bra. your back arches, pushing your breasts forward. he smiles and unhooks it with practiced ease, sliding the straps all the way down your arms and easing them over your hands. fire blazes a trail down your skin behind his touch, your face flushing a pretty shade of pink. the bra hits the leather seat to the left of you, but you don’t have time to see where it went. phillip’s hands are on your chest, kneading into your tits the same way he did your thigh. you moan, your head falling back as you lose yourself in the euphoria of being touched. “that’s it, baby. god, these tits are so perfect. fit in my hands so nicely.” he brushes his thumb over one of your nipples, making it stiffen. your nose scrunches, the thrill from the contact going straight between your legs.

before you can say anything in reply, the warmth of his mouth is latched around your breast, his tongue teasing at the hardened bud in the center. you swear you could cry as relief washes over you. you’d found what you were looking for, finally. god was real, and he came in the form of phillip graves. while he sucked at one nipple, he teased the other with his fingers, rolling it and giving it the occasional flick. already you could feel the pleasure tightening in your core, threatening to push you over the edge if you thought too hard about everything he was doing. your hips start to rock of their own accord, chasing friction against his lap. one of his large hands moves down to hold you in place, his mouth releasing your breast with a pop. “all in due time, sweetness. you’re not in a rush, now, are ya?” you shake your head, eyes wide as you stare back at him.

“good. ‘cause i intend to take my time and enjoy ya.” thankfully, he moves on from your breasts to other, more neglected areas of your body. he unzips your dress like he’s unwrapping god’s gift to earth, reverent as his eyes rake across every inch of exposed flesh. the glint in his eyes is primal, animalistic. he’d devour you if given the chance. despite the awkwardness, you shimmy your dress off, your heels falling off your feet with it. it all falls to the floor in a heap, leaving you in nothing but your panties. always one for fairness, phillip unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the side before catching your lips. his hand snakes up your back to hold your head in place, the other winding around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. your chest presses against his and he moans into your mouth at the feeling.

slowly, that hand around your waist starts to sneak down, edging closer to the waistband of your underwear. you don’t notice, too enraptured by the taste of whiskey on his tongue. you feel it when his hand slides against you, though. the kiss is broken by your gasp, the simple proximity of his fingers enough to make your hips roll down in search of pleasure. the thunder in his chest rumbles again, the hand on the back of your head tightening. “that’s what you really wanted tonight, isn’t it? someone to give this pretty cunt what it’s been achin’ for.” words don’t come. your mind is too preoccupied with the warmth of his skin to string together syntax. phillip’s fingers wind around your hair, tugging at it roughly. your head jerks back and you whine. that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. “gotta use your words, baby girl. gotta tell me what you want or i’m gonna stop.” no, you didn’t want that. “t-touch me,” you manage to stutter out, your neck bent at an awkward angle by the force of his hand. he lets go, rubbing his thumb over the scalp he’d irritated. “good girl. you follow orders well.”

his fingers run along your slit, gathering your wetness on his digits. he smiles, his voice dropping a register as he leans in closer to you. “so desperate, baby. i can feel how needy you are. just a bitch in heat, ain’tcha?” you keen, your head nodding of its own accord. deep in your subconscious, you knew he was right. some part of you wanted to be ashamed, but it wasn’t strong enough to fight to the forefront. all you felt was burning need coursing through your veins and leaking out between your legs. he pulled his hand away, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking your juices off of them. the sight of his face made you moan. he looked like a man enjoying his last meal, eyes shut and a content smile on his face. “delicious,” he said softly, bringing that same hand up to your face. he cups your cheek and runs his thumb over your bottom lip, feeling the softness of your skin under his calloused hand.

phillip guides your mouth towards his, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. it’s all tongues and teeth, desperate, messy. you can taste yourself on him, the salty remnants of you left behind on his tongue. while he has you distracted with his mouth, he lowers his hand between your legs, tugging your panties to the side. black and lacy, just like the bra. he liked a girl with a sense of style. without warning, two of his fingers thrust into you, making you see stars. you moan into his mouth as he scissors you open, preparing you for him. his mouth leaves yours, leaning to the side to whisper in your ear. “gonna take my cock so well, aren’t you, baby? gonna take it like the whore you are. so fuckin’ needy.”

his words made you blush, heat rushing to your core. he starts pumping his fingers in and out, holding you in place by the scruff of your neck. you writhe as much as you’re able, your body overwhelmed by all the sensations he was providing you. he chuckles lowly in your ear, the sound sending a chill down your spine. “i know you will, darlin’. i know you will. that pretty cunt is just swallowin’ my fingers. she’s a greedy little thing, ain’t she?” you couldn’t respond. it was hard enough for your brain to convert the sounds into meaningful words, let alone formulate a response. you were practically mute, save for the whimpers and mewls that flowed unbidden. he picks up the pace and your eyes screw shut, pressure building in your belly. “phil! ‘m gonna-” he cuts you off with another brutal kiss, his tongue bullying its way into your mouth.

all the while, you’re rocking your hips, letting the pleasure build. he pulls away, tilting your head down so that you’re looking into his eyes. “i’m gonna make you come on my fingers, then you’re gonna come on my cock like a good girl. understand?” his tone was forceful enough that you registered the command and you nodded along. you’d do anything he wanted if it meant he didn’t stop. he nodded back and focused in on you, his fingers curling right against that spongy spot deep inside you. “c’mon, baby. give it to me,” he said, his voice ragged as he watched your face. he knew you’d look so pretty falling apart on his lap. and you really did. the pressure released, setting your whole body trembling. you cried out, back arching. your mouth fell open, moaning as you rode out the wave of pleasure. as soon as you’d caught your breath, he yanked his fingers away, leaving you empty and dripping all over the seat. you whined at the loss, but you weren’t empty long. 

he freed himself from his jeans and underwear, giving himself a couple pumps before guiding his leaking cockhead to your warmth. you whine as he taps it against your clit, his ragged breathing the only reply. when you open your eyes and look at him, he looks just as debauched as you feel. feeling you clench around his fingers, watching your face, it had done something to him. without another word, he pushes himself inside. just a little bit at first, and you’re thankful for it. the tip of him is already stretching you wider than your biggest toy. he holds your chin in his thumb and forefinger, guiding your eyes down to his. “you’re doing so good, you pretty thing. need ya to give me one more. think you can do that for me?” you nod, letting gravity sink you a little further down on his cock. he hisses through clenched teeth, cheeks burning red.

phillip’s hands on your hips are steadying, easing you down until he’s bottomed out inside you. the moan you let out is a sound you’re wholly unfamiliar with. wanton, crass, loud to boot. he groans alongside you, his fingers digging into the plush of your ass. you give yourself a moment to adjust to the fullness. he’s not longer than you can handle, but he’s thick, stretching your walls as much as they can take. the burn fades into something warmer, something softer, and that’s when you know you can give him another. you start to bounce up and down, slowly at first before picking up the pace. his head leans back against the seat, reveling in the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him. “fuck, baby! you take me so well, knew you would. this pussy’s so good, so wet. all for me, all fuckin’ mine.”

his words are slurred, his tongue heavy in his mouth as he lets himself get drunk on the pleasure. you’re not far behind, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot every time you sink down onto his lap. he presses his hips into yours, thrusting into you to shove himself deeper. you moan into his ear, bracing yourself as your shaking thighs try desperately to keep up. that’s when he starts helping, lifting you up and spearing you on his cock over and over. your eyes roll back in your head and the pressure builds again before you even know what’s happening. all of a sudden, you’re hovering right over the edge, breath heavy and head fuzzy. you must have tightened around him because phil makes an absolutely unholy noise, his head falling back against the seat.

“god damn,” he breathes out, a hand leaving your hip to tug at your hair. it was so attractive, the way he lifted you on his lap like you weighed nothing. your head falls back as he yanks at the roots of your hair, the jolt of pain threatening to push you over the edge. he’s moaning right alongside you, watching the way your tits bounce and your body jiggles as you bounce on his cock. “need you to come again, sweetness,” he says, tilting your head so you’re looking at him. “look me in the eye, don’t you stop lookin’ at me.” you obey, letting the pleasure build in you as he pushes himself impossibly deeper. his gaze is intense, unwavering. the pressure, the fullness is all too much and you tip over, your walls gripping him in a vice as you come.

that turns him into an animal, rutting into you with abandon as you ride out your orgasm. just when it gets to be too much, when you’re about to tap out, the warmth of his spend floods into you. you whine at the sensation, too lost in your own head to relish in the sounds he made. some men liked to talk through it, mumble out some incoherent praise or compliments. not phil. no, he moaned. the sounds fell from his lips as his hips stuttered, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. the hand in your hair tightens as well, causing you to hiss in pain. he doesn’t even register the sound, too lost in his own pleasure.

when his eyes finally meet yours again, they look much like your own. blissed out blues meet your cumdrunk gaze. his chest heaves as he slides himself out of you, pulling you down to lay against him. his spend drips out of you and you begin to protest, but he shushes you. “‘s alright, darlin’. i’m gettin’ the truck detailed tomorrow.” you settle, catching your breath as your ear presses against his chest. you can hear his heart thundering in his chest, threatening to beat right out of his skin. “you did so good for me,” he says, raking his fingers through your hair. “such a good, obedient girl.”

you smile at the praise, his words warming something deep within you. “same time next week?” he asks, and you nod. finally, you’d found what you were looking for.

[demonioenelespacio]

I really love how s2 of Good Omens is written, because you have so many clues about what is going to happen at the end, the offer, the motivations behind the choices of all the characters… You have everything on the plate to cook an amazing recipe.

You start the season with them as angels and end it with an offer to be both angels again (just like s1 started and ended with a Garden). You get a brief glimpse of The angel who became Crowley, we get to see how they were so passionate about their work, you can see their joy. I mean, look at them

Can you really blame Aziraphale for thinking that the offer is amazing? When that could mean that Crowley is this happy again.

But… The spark that our demon is missing is innocence, and that’s something Crowley can’t get back, ever (unless they delete his memory??).

Crowley is bitter and angry and anxious, but we know he can experience that joy from Before, because we can see that when he is making it rain for Maggie and Nina. We saw a real smile.

Aziraphale didn’t.

But the offer is not because he wants to change Crowley, because he knows who Crowley is now and loves him as he is. And because he knows that Crowley is still the same caring and kind being he was Before.

“I know you”

“You do not know me”

“I know the angel you were”

“The angel you knew is not me”

Yeah, it’s true, but that scene is to show Azira that he is still kind, he didn't kill the sheep, he is not going to kill the children. So, yes, Crowley isn’t that Angel, but the core is the same in the end.

There is also the fact that… Do you think Aziraphale ever thinks about how he planted the seeds of Crowley's Fall?

This is the face of an angel who is going to end the career of another angel WITHOUT REALISING IT.

That Angel didn’t know about Earth, about humans, about the Great Plan, they were busy making stars. If Aziraphale had never told them that, would Crowley have thought of asking questions?

First offence and all of that… How unfair. How could Aziraphale make it right again?

The “Exactly” scene is so important. They are so stupid (affectionary).

They mean the same thing (We can be together) but saying different things; a phrase (Nothing lasts forever) meaning different things for each of them. They don’t talk, they don’t really speak each other's language.

Also, the final scene is more painful, but we have the same argument in ep1:

“Oh, right, this is how you wanna do it?”

“No, I would love you to help me! I’m asking you to help me take care of (Heaven). But if you won’t, you won’t”

*Crowley leaves*

How can they have broken up so many times without ever being together (screams).

In ep1 we also have the two little mini half-miracles. And I have read some people take that as how powerful Crowley is, but come on. This Big Miracle is clearly because they are working together, the two of them together are more powerful than anything else. And boy, that rang an alarm in my head when I first watched the season, because… Crowley said in s1 that they will be waiting for the next Big Thing, this war "Heaven and Hell vs. Humanity". You want the best in your team, right?

Because if they are not… they can be against you.

So, yeah, I saw Metatron and was like “ok, here we go”. And look, his offer is to Aziraphale, because he is an angel, but Metatron doesn’t blink an eye before mentioning Crowley too. He wants both. But whatever, if Crowley doesn’t want to go to Heaven, if Heaven only gets Azirphale, well, success either way! Because if you separate the two of them, they are no longer a threat .

Also the fly, flying around very very noisy. You have Beelzebub saying they want Gabriel surrendered to them and acting a bit weird. All the clues there (I must confess I didn't expect the ship to be canon, I just thought they might be talking more lol. A nice win).

All this just thinking about episode 1.

The last thing I want to touch is Maggie and Nina talking to Crowley before the confession. Because… They told us what was going to happen.

They can’t be together, because Nina has to get over her previous toxic relationship before she is ready, and then, only then, they can try, if Maggie waits (she will wait).

Aziraphale has to get over his toxic relationship with Heaven before he is ready, and then, only then, they can try, if Crowley waits (he will wait).

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (21)

21. The dangerous Road

MASTERLIST

Summary: War came at a heavy price

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, death of a character, war and all that comes with it, mentions of pedicide (killing of a baby), threats of non-con, technically adultery, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3 k

Notes: Like I said, the pace is picking hehe, and it will get dark for a couple of chapters. SO SORRY FOR THIS LOVES

“I bled once”, you whispered to the maester, “but the symptoms hadn't stopped, I thought to be with child”

“after the birth of a child it could be tricky”, he warned with a warm smile, “forgive me my lady but I must check you out” 

It was an uncomfortable afternoon with the maester, but afterwards, you left his tower to search for Sara

The test that he had made you do was going to take time to… “develop”, so you had a couple of days before receiving any news 

Sara, and you, had started a quick net of communication throughout the North, you had contact with White Harbor, with the Lady Mara, and the Lady Bolton from the Dreadfort, all the way up to the Bear Island, even down at Widow’s watch, you exchanged ravens regularly, you even created, with Cregan, the “Dragon watchers”, dragons were faster than ravens, but you had placed outposts with huge beacons of fire that were to be lit as soon as they see or hear them, so as soon as it is lit, the next one will light them also, creating a line of fire to be seen miles away in Winterfell

You were nervous, the people were nervous, you had yet to receive news of Cregan, but if you think about it more carefully, it could be dangerous for him to be writing where they are and where theta e going, letters can be easily intercepted, an the last months you realized people who believe a man should have priority to ascend the Iron Throne over a woman is bigger than you expected.

You could have Aegon royalists within Winterfell without even knowing 

When you found Sara, you gasped

She was a mess, clutching to her own chest, heaving and crying by the window in her room

“Sara!”. you called for her name, running to her, hugging her, “what happened?”

“I don’t know!”, she managed to whine, “I saw something”

“What did you see? What happened? are you alright?”, you were so confused, she was distraught

She weeped in your arms, and you hugged her to comfort her, you directed her to sit on the bed, and you cuddled her. She eventually calmed, but she still shook with the sobs

“I don’t know what happened”, she whispered, “one minute I was here, and another…I was somewhere else”

“What do you mean?”, you asked her softly

“That somehow, I was somewhere else, I was something else”, you believed in magic, you believed in people who could dream about things that were going to happen, everyone in your family knew the tale of Daenys the dreamer and how her visions saved the Targaryens from The Doom. Once you were hiding from the boys with Helaena, and she couldn’t stop whispering about stars in the middle of the day, you didn’t listen and when the boys found you you ran from them, failing to see the edge of a wooden furniture and banging your head against it, you passed for several minutes in which you could see silvery stars under your eyelids 

But this was something else

In the book Cregan had lent you, you had read about wildlings north of the wall that could take the body of animals and use them as their own… but it was only a tale, wasn’t it?

“I was in the skies”, she continued, “I was flying, I was big, I saw Dragonstone”

“Dragonstone?”, you asked

“I think it was, I- I had never seen it”, she explain, still catching her breath, “it was big and dark, seemed like it was built front he rock itself, and… had many dragons sculptures all over”, that was a fair description of the castle of your family

“What else did you see?”, you asked

“I took flight towards the west”, she said shakily, “over the seas until I could see a castle, surrounded by a powerful wall, and a small village, under the protection of another wall”, she said, she was with you, but her eyes were seeing something outside of the room, they were lost in her memories, “the castle was made of gray rock with reddened tiles in their towers”, you paled then, “a banner was hanging from the biggest one, two black wings over a white banner, in front of a checkered black and gray field”

“House Staunton”, you whispered, “a house front he crownlands, loyal to Rhaenyra”

“They were under siege, and I was going to help them, but then…”

“Sara…”, your heart was pounding in your chest

“Two huge beasts, Vhagar, and another golden dragon flew down upon me, jaws open, a breath of fire and I…”, her eyes filled with tears again and she wept in your arms, “I could smell the burnt flesh, and the reek of death!”, she weeped again, and you held her against you

“Shhh, it’s alright”, you whispered, “it is alright”

But it was not

You could feel it 

And you were made certain the very next day

“See that he is bathed gently”, you said to the main maid that took care of RIckon, “Even though he likes the heat, just like a little dragon”you giggled, playing with his feet, “I would bathe him myself but I have a meeting with the master at arms”

“Yes My lady”, she said gently, you liked her, she was sweet and cared for RIckon as he was her own, she took him gently and accommodate him in her arms

“Who is this handsome boy that needs a bath?”, she cooed, “let’s take a bath and let mommy focus on her meeting”, she said as she walked away

You smiled as you saw her leave the rooms, but were called by a pup, Rickon’s pup as he barked at you playfully, moving her triangular tail

“Don’t believe you are free of a bath!”, you chided playfully, and he barked again but ran to hide from you with a whimper. 

You giggled

They were really clever animals Direwolves 

But as you were preparing to leave your rooms to your meeting, there was a knock on the door

“Yes?”, you asked cheerfully, as you were the Lady of Winterfell, and you needed to show yourself strong, but the face the maester had, it immediately told you something was wrong

Very wrong

“I have letter for you, My Lady”, he said, he sounded apologetic

“What is it?”, you whispered

“One if from Dragonstone, but the other… is it from Harrenhal, from Aemond Targaryen”

You palet

you received the two small scrolls, your hand already trembling, you didn’t know which one to open first, you decided, that the one from Dragonstone

It surprised you to see it was from Rhaena, you had never had a personal relationship with her, but still you read the few lines she wrote

And as you did you whimpered, bitter tears falling from your eyes

Rhaenys was dead

Her and Melys had been burnt by Aemond and Aegon in both their dragons

Just like Sara described

Rhaena goes on saying  she wanted you to hear it from her, because she knew how dear you were to her grandmother and vice-versa

“No, no, no please”, you cried, clutching your chest, falling to your knees

“My Lady!”, the maester fell to the floor on his knees beside you, clutching you tightly, “Are alright?” he placed his hand on your forehead 

“No!”, you whined, you let out a scream of pain as you felt your heart was ripped from your chest. Sara showed up, taking the place of the maester by your side, grabbing you tightly 

“I will bring you a special tea, to calm your nerves”, he left the room

“She is gone, Aemond killed her”, you whined, grabbing into Sara, “my aunt is gone”

“I’m so sorry”, she whined, “I should have seen it sooner”

“It’s not your fault”, you whispered, your voice as broken as your spirit. You then looked at the other scroll that had fallen by your skirts, this had to mean something… something else…

You couldn’t resist, you couldn’t

You opened it

What you found there didn’t surprise you, there were threats, a warning, and a demand

You whined at the sight of his poisonous words 

But now… you jumped from the grief, straight to the anger

It was him!

The source of all your pains, all your traumas, it was him, for taking your baby nephew, and now your dear aunt

It was him

And you were the only one who could stop him

Sara looked at you, petrified and scared of what she found in your eyes

“No”, she whispered, when you looked straight ahead, tears were no longer falling from your eyes, all it was there was fire, and bloodthirst, “whatever you think you need to do…”

“I have to”, you answered barely, standing from the floor, your hands made fists

“No! you need to stay here!”, she cried, “please!”

“I am the only one who can stop him, stop this”, she took the scroll from your hand and read it, and she whimpered

“Its a trap!”, she said

But you were already on your feet, grabbing your riding gear, the thickest pants you could find and the upper part to go with it

“Please! think of Cregan! of Rickon!”, she insisted 

“Is for them I’m doing this”, you said, all emotion in your voice disappeared

“Please! they can fight him”, she insisted

“I can get close to him and kill him, I’m the only one who can”

“But at what price?”, she asked

“the debt is high already”, she whispered, “and it will only take me”

“please!”, you turned to look at Sara

“Tell Cregan I’m sorry”, you whined, tears falling down your cheeks again

“You tell him yourself!”, she insisted

“Take care of my son”, you cried, “please love him as your own”

“You will!”, she said, now desperate, “you will love him, and see him grow!”

“I did the best I could for the North, I’m sorry if it wasn't enough”, you cried

“It was! but is not over!”, she grabbed your arms, “please!”

“I’m the only one that can stop him”, you insisted, “I can kill him”, she knew there was no convincing you, she can see it in your eyes

“Please”

“No one else is going to die for me”, your voice again a flat line, “Cregan will be spared, and the crown will belong to Rhaenyra”

“But please let’s wait until we can reach Cregan”

“You know what his answer is going to be”, you said, but you realized Sara was not going to let you leave, so instead, you agreed to wait

Only to sneak out in the middle of the night, after telling the nannies to take RIckon for the night claiming you needed to be alone, they took him without question.

You couldn’t dare to see Rickon for one last time, if you did, you would second guess your decision and you couldn’t

This was more important than yourself

This was about the future of the seven Kingdoms and the future of your family and everyone you loved

This was bigger

Vhaelar was waiting for you outside the Winterfell gates, she roared into the night air but at this point you didn’t care if everyone listened, you will be in the air by the time they think they can do something to stop you

So you climbed on top of your dragon, Aemond’s words burning inside your brain

“I killed Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest, it wasn’t personal, but I know your husband is marching down with his army, you have three days to come to Harrenhal, if you do not, I will burn them alive, and then I will ride North and take you anyways. Spare the Starks, give yourself to me”

You had to answer his call

It was true, you can come to him willingly, you had a dragon, you could hide a blade in your undergarments, and after, you could slay him in his sleep or something, anything, but when he said it was the end of house Stark, it meant your baby as well, pedicide is not something you would put past Aemond. You knew he was capable and able to do it

For Rickon

For Cregan

And for Sara and the North

Yourself was a small price to pay

The night was long but you didn’t plan to stop as Vhaelar flew decisively under you

You believed you had until morning until Winterfell wakes up and sends a raven to Cregan, if you manage to fly over them it will be too late also

In the air, atop your dragon, nothing could stop you

Unless perhaps, another dragon

All night, all the way south, your mind was blank, there was only grief, pain, and rage.

You did not deemed yourself as vengeful person, and yet, you wanted it, desire it, you felt a fire growing within you, that wanted to burn everything in your path

You felt such heat within you you barely felt the still cold air that hit your face in the heights, and before you even knew it, the sun was shining in the horizon.

You felt no hunger, no tiredness, no nothing

Only the rage

It was Midday when you saw the unmistakable burnt towers of Harrenhal

Your dragon growled, like she was in pain, feeling your anger

You led her to descend upon the castle with a velocity that made your stomach drop, but you didn’t care about that, you cared about vengeance

But you were in a close distance, you felt the fire burning within you, one command and you could burn Harrenhal and the Green forces within them, Aemond probably was there, inside 

“Dra-!”

As you were going to give the order, you were interrupted by a low growl. Vhagar appeared from nowhere, pushing your dragon and you in the air

Vhaelar whined as she struggled to keep in the air and you knew then and there, that against the monstrous Vhagar, you could do nothing. Even if your dragons was one of the largest 

The Queen of dragons growled in greeting and you could feel Vhaelar’s nervousness as your own.

Or perhaps you were your own

Some people would say that you are more lamb than dragon, because of your mother’s house

But they were wrong

You were a dragon he awakened 

You landed heavily by the gates, you could see the restlessness of the soldiers in you and your dragon’s presence. You abandoned the want to burn everything, against Vhagar you couldn’t win. you had to be smart about this, she had the upper hand, the surprise factor was ruined 

“WHITE DRAGON!”, they chanted all over the walls, but you didn’t attacked them

Perhaps that is what you should do.

Burn them all

But the retaliation from King’s landing and the Greens could be worse

Aemond appeared by your side, he did not hide his smile, his happiness of seeing you there. 

Bold, you assumed, as you were near your dragon, you could burn him, here and now

The temptation was great

“You came”, he greeted, “good girl”

“I came to the call of your insanity”, you growled, he came to you, quick on his feet, you took a step backwards, still he grabbed you by the back of your neck

Vhaelar growled, dangerously, but VHagr was there, right by her side, she grabbed your dragon by the neck, furiously, dangerously

“NO!”, you screamed

Vhaelar whined in agony, and Vhagar released her, it was only a warning, but her black blood flowed profusely from the injury in her neck

“NO!”, you wanted to go to her, but Aemond held on to you tight

“If you don’t want me to finish her off, you will come with me”, he had to drag you towards the castle, as you could hear her whines of agony as her pain as if was your own

He dragged you through the halls, the stench of dead was clinging into you by every forceful step, and you whined under Aemond’s brutal hold

He threw you into a room. It held no windows, no nothing, but it was furnished with the very best he could find in his proximity, you realized. A luxurious big bed, with small tales on each side, many candles all over the room to light it up since it had no windows, and a table with chairs on one corners, tapestries on the floor and hanging from the walls to give it a more comfortable feel to it, but it didn’t hide what it was, it was a prison, only made for you

“A room for a princess”, he said mockingly, closing the door behind him, “you will stay here”

“I did as you asked”, you said, trying to regain control, “I came, I did as you said, promise me you will kill no one else”, you whined, “please”, he only smirked

“I promise I will no seek the death of anyone else”, he pleaded with a hand on his chest and another raised, but all seemed like a mockery, “I only wanted you, it is good that you finally saw this”

“I don’t understand”, you whined, “why me? after everything”

“That is not for you to know, now put on the dress I selected for you”, he said, taking your shoulders and directing you to look upon the bed, where a very revealing dark green dress was waiting for you. “You are to please me, since you are married, since you didn’t want to marry me, you will be nothing else, but my whore”

A single tear fell down your cheek as you contemplated what you willingly let your life turn into. 

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker 

@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @​​mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel 

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @zoleea-exultant @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @zoleea-exultant @llleon666 @dark-night-sky-99 @bitchigoteverythingissues @harrypotteranna23-blog

@esposadomd @ajanauia @phantomtea19 @let-love-bleeds-red @kishie8 @dreamingofyourmoons @esposadomd @sandronebabyy @kemillyfreitas @​​trifoliumviridi @dreamingofyourmoons @darling-jace @biblichorr @ivvypg @mendes-bae @borikenlove @tssf-imagines @praline357 @alitaar @prettykinkysoul @aelora-a @a-mexican-waffle @ateliefloresdaprimavera @alexa4040 @lrboyd @anditsmywholeheart  @weaselyssss  @scarlettqueen190 @deeeeexx @cloudroomblog @dreaming-of-the-reality

[blueishspace]

Looped Sun 5

Loop #177

Scott had decided to take one vacation loop and this happened? A null loop? In an empires world where Xonorth won? Without an arm? ... The world tree was very very mean.

Loop #179

Grian had decided to take a vacation loop, nothing too big of course but something relaxing... of course this plan did not predict for a null loop stuck in the end with the most sadistic version of the Watchers possible. Grian would never set fire to the world tree...but the tree is making it really hard not to want to.

Loop #182

Pearl wanted to just have a good loop, being trapped for twenty years in a tower was not part of that plan. It being a null loop even less. Being a damsel in distress is extremely boring without something to do.

Loop #184

This is war, after almost 200 loops Scar had yet to have a Star Wars loop and now he instead had a Star Trek one... To be fair it was a good one but it's the principle! The world tree did it on purpose.

Loop #187

Scott: Guess Grian Isn't going to be the only god now...

Pearl: I guess so... So whose place did we take?

Scott: I know a bunch about this place, I took Mianite's place as god of order and you took Dianite's as god of chaos.

Pearl: Where's Scar?

Scott: According to the loop's memories he's taking Ianite's place as balance god.

Pearl: Wait, wasn't Ianite imprisoned for like...centuries?

Scott: ...

Pearl: Let's go get him.

Loop #189

It was two in the morning when Scar crashed trough the window of Grian's apartment. Grian was not excited to see him.

Grian: Another hero loop?

Scar: What? No! This is a villain loop! Watch and fear, I am the wizard!

Grian: The wizard? Really?

Scar: What!? It's straight to the point.

Grian: ... I'll stop bullying if I can join the villany. I still got a mother spore outfit from last time we looped into season 7.

Scar: Welcome on board!!

Scott: No chaos magic this time?

Pearl: Nah, decided to go waterbending for this hero loop. Get better at healing. Maybe if I get a villain next time.

Loop #191

This was early, Grian had gotten used to sometimes waking up in Hermitcraft season 6 or 7. He wasn't too surprised when he woke up as a Watcher or in Evo. But this? He didn't even think he could loop back to high school. Fortunately this wasn't a null loop so he could actually do something but still...

Loop #193

Pearl didn't mind being an hyena, it was the why that annoyed her the most. At the same time, she should have expected this to happen considering Scar's name. She tried not to sigh as she recites her part.

Pearl: And where to we feature?

Scar: Just listen to teacher. I know it sound sordid but you'll be rewarded when at last, I'm given my dues. And injustice deliciously squared, be prepared!

Loop #193

It's been a while since Grian had gotten to start in the desert, as much as he hated waking up here at the beginning of the loops now it was a bit nostalgic. He knew this was going to be a relaxing loop.

Loop #195

Bdubs: She's losing her freaking mind-

*Boom*

Bdubs didn't get to finish that he became smoke while his items fell to the ground... The spectators weren't happy.

Grian: ...Who decided to give Pearl a gun?

Scar: I did!

Grian: ...why?

Loop #196

Rendog: Give us back that banner!

Grian: Nev'r! If thee need t then cometh h're and taketh t thee phony king.

Ren: Phony? How dare thee, thee damn hippie! I'll showeth thee the wrath of the r'd wint'r.

Grian: Nay, I wouldst winneth.

Skizz: What's going on dude?

Scott: They are talking in shakespearian english.

Skizz: I got that. Why?

Scott: I have no idea. Ren isn't even looping, he's just going along with it.

Skizz: Looping?

Scott: It's nothing.

Ren: Cometh h're and visage mine own wrath thee heathen!

Grian: Is yond a dare? Prepareth thyself f'r a vanquish.

Mumbo: Grian?

Grian: There is a way we can still be friends.

Mumbo: Ther-

Grian: þū meahte geunon mē!

Mumbo: ... What?

Grian: What? It's just some Old english.

Tango: Jimmy? Jimmy? What's wrong?

Jimmy: It's Scar and Grian! Make them stop!

Tango: What do you mean-

Grian: 𒁠 𒂠𒀭𒋠𒍦𒋀 𒆭𒋠𒂠𒄀𒊠𒊀𒋀𒀀𒋠𒂠 𒆤𒄠𒀀𒋀 𒋀𒄠𒄀𒁠𒊠 𒁭𒊠𒀭𒁀𒇠𒄀𒈀

Scar: 𒁠𒊀𒍤Y𒄀𒀀𒄠𒌋 𒈀𒄀 𒋠𒄀𒁠𒋀𒄠𒄀𒊠𒍤

Joel: Grian, mate, please stop this.

Jimmy: You'll get used to it eventually.

Grian: 𓃀𓄿𓂧 𓃀𓇌𓋴 𓃀𓄿𓂧 𓃀𓇌𓋴 𓅃𓉔𓄿𓏏 𓄿𓂋 𓇌𓅲 𓎼𓇋𓈖𓎼 𓏏 𓂧 𓅃𓉔𓈖 𓏏𓉔𓇌 𓎢𓅓 𓆑𓂋 𓇌𓅲

Joel: I really doubt it.

Grian: ⊑⟟ ⏁⊑⟒⍀⟒ ⋔⏃⍀⏁⊬⋏!

Martyn: You do know I speak ender right?

Grian: ... I forgot.

Loop #199

Listen, Grian didn't mean to start a religion really. That was more Joel's thing then his. It's not his fault he went god mode right as Gem started her Dawn church. At least he turned the god war between him, an unawake Pearl and Joel into a prank war. Which he was winning by the way. But that didn't stop it from being... Annoying at certain times. At least now he could teleport, that's a plus.

Loop #200

Grian: People! We got an expansion to our loop!

Scar: We did?

Grian: Check your loop memories!

Scar: Why- oh! We are after Secret Life!

Pearl: Finally, we get see season 10!

Scar: Look Joel and Skizz are Hermits.

Grian: Good for them, kinda hardcore that their first month of the season is demise 2.

Pearl: I mean, they are used to the Life Games so It's actually a good way to introduce them mate.

Pearl: Mate.

Grian: I know...

Pearl: I'm so sorry for you.

Grian: I'm going to have so many fishing loops now.

Pearl: It's ok...

Grian: Curse you unawake baseline me! Curse you!

Pearl: ... Snails?

Grian: Snails.

Scar: ... What are we talking about?

Grian: Snails.

Pearl: Snails snails.

Scar: ... Ok then, I'm out of here now.

Pearl: Snails!

Pearl: Is it me or is there something up with the season 10 water?

Grian: It's not you... it might like a moon big thing.

Pearl: Not another moon big, please.

Prev Next First

[formula-nyoom]

Stars Racing Past-3

Summary: Max teaches (Y/N) the first lesson every Jedi must learn, which turns into an exploratory trip around Coruscant.

A/N: Did I essentially make Logan my favorite Star Wars Jedi? Yes. Shoutout to anyone that has played Fallen Order and Survivor, you probably get what I'm putting down.

Series Masterlist

~~~

(Y/N) slept the best she had ever had that night in the Temple and she probably would have slept as long as she wanted to if Max hadn’t barged into her room and turned the lights on, interrupting her peaceful slumber.

“Wake up. It’s time to start training.” Max said as he somewhat gently shook her awake. (Y/N) tiredly rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she glanced at the window to try and gauge what time it was.

“The sun's not even out yet.” She whined, letting out a yawn. 

 “Perfect time to get a jumpstart on the day.” Max said, looking at her. “I expect you to be dressed and ready in 5 minutes.”

He then turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Now a bit angry at being woken up so early, (Y/N) was tempted to lie back down and go back to sleep. But she decided against it, reluctantly getting out of bed and getting dressed. 

(Y/N) put on a pair of tunic and pants, this time choosing to wear a robe as well to feel like a proper Jedi. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she smiled. Everything about her appearance made her look like a Jedi, except for one thing. (Y/N)’s mangled attempt of a braid stuck out on one side. She had learned that the braid that she saw Mick, Logan and Oscar wear were to show their status as padawans. Since (Y/N) was now a padawan, she had to have a braid in her hair as well. Except (Y/N) was never taught how to braid hair. She tried her best to weave a couple strands of hair into a bad mimic of a braid and hoped that it was passable.

 “You ready?” Max asked as he opened the door once again. 

“Yep!” (Y/N) said, following him out of the room.

The Temple was a lot quieter at this hour. Hardly anyone was roaming the halls as (Y/N) followed Max. And the people she did see only gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. (Y/N) expected Max would take her to one of the classrooms that Oscar and Logan had shown her yesterday, so she was a bit confused when they entered an elevator and Max pressed the highest button.

 “So, what exactly are you gonna teach me today?” (Y/N) asked as the elevator rose.

“Just some basic stuff. Master Vettel told me that you’ve used The Force to grab objects before. That’s impressive for someone who’s never been trained.”

 “Well it came in handy back at the repair shop.” (Y/N) mumbled. The elevator dinged and the doors parted. Stepping out, (Y/N) now saw that they had entered a somewhat rooftop garden at the top of the temple. The whole planet seemed to be laid out before her as (Y/N) looked out at the cityscape.  

A planet that seemed so vibrant and busy when she first arrived, now seemed calm and dim as the sun started to peak out over the horizon. 

“It’s nice and quiet up here.” (Y/N) said.

 “I come up here to meditate.” Max said as he took a seat underneath a decorated awning with vines hanging off it. He motioned for (Y/N) to take a seat next to him and she obliged.

 “Meditation is one of the main techniques Jedi use to connect with The Force. You’re allowing The Force to enter your body and make a connection.” Max explained. “Close your eyes and try to quiet your mind.”

(Y/N) watched as Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath, she then mirrored him as she tried to focus and start meditating. But after sitting there for what felt like 20 minutes, (Y/N) didn’t feel like she was in a meditative state. She tried to clear her mind as best as she could, but stray thoughts kept popping up. 

 “How long is this supposed to take?” (Y/N) asked, trying to keep her eyes closed.

“Could take minutes. Could take hours.” Max said. By this point (Y/N) had opened her eyes and saw that Max was in the same relaxed state when she had first closed her eyes. (Y/N) closed her eyes and tried to focus again on clearing her mind, but she became too focused on trying to stay focused that she just ended up getting frustrated with herself.

 “I can’t do it!” (Y/N) exclaimed, letting out a frustrating sigh. Max opened his eyes and looked at his frustrated padawan. Max had already doubted his teaching capabilities, and now he was doubting them even more at (Y/N)’s frustration. Meditation was the first thing a padawan learns and Max thought it was the first thing he was supposed to teach (Y/N). But his current approach obviously wasn’t working. 

“Let’s try something different.” He said. Max adjusted his placement to where he was now sitting five feet in front of (Y/N).

“Don’t focus on trying to clear your mind and letting the Force in. Instead, I want you to try to reach out through the Force and try to feel my presence in it.” Max explained “Do you think you can do that?” 

(Y/N) nodded her head. It didn’t seem like a big ask, considering she probably did the same thing when trying to find Seb back on Tattoonie. (Y/N) watched Max close his eyes again and resume his meditation. She then took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

(Y/N) tried to mentally reach out through The Force. She instantly felt a connection and tried to hone in on it, feeling a presence in front of her. It was familiar and almost comforting. It was Max. Even though (Y/N) knew there was distance between them, it felt like Max was sitting right in front of her.

 “I think…I think I did it.” (Y/N) quietly said. Max smiled, feeling the connection (Y/N) made. 

“You did. Now instead of focusing on my presence, try to focus on your own. Do you feel the Force around you?”

(Y/N) nodded her head, but remembered that both of them had their eyes closed.

 “Yes.” 

“Focus on it.”

(Y/N) shifted her focus from Max to herself. In an instance her whole body seemed more energized as she connected with The Force. She felt it flowing through her hands and fingers, running all the way down to her legs.

Max opened his eyes, just to check to see how (Y/N) was doing, and he saw that the small specks of dirt and pebbles around her were floating a few inches off the ground. A small smile formed on his face at his padawan’s quick progress.

The two of them meditated until the sun had risen high over Courescant. (Y/N) hadn’t felt the time pass at all once she had focused on making a connection with The Force. She had expected the energized feeling to leave once Max called an end to their meditation session. But she was surprised that it had stayed with her after she opened her eyes.

“So are we just going to sit up here the whole day and meditate or are you going to teach me other stuff? Oh! Maybe you can teach me how to use one of those laser swords that I saw Seb and Kimi use.” (Y/N) said as she dusted dirt off her robe.

 “You’re no way near prepared to learn how to use a lightsaber.” Max told her, offering a hand to help her stand. (Y/N) pouted but accepted his help up.

“Some stuff I will teach you will seem boring but it is essential.” Max said. “But we’re done with the boring stuff for today.”

 “What now?” 

Max looked out at the Courscant skyline. His eyes landed on a big building that could rival the Jedi Temple in terms of architecture.

“Well, I’ve been advised that I must keep your training to be inside The Temple. However not everything a Jedi learns or does is within these walls.” Max said, giving a mischievous grin to his padawan “And, what Seb doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” 

(Y/N)’s face mirrored the mischief on Max’s face.

~~~

“If anyone asks us why we’re here, tell them we’re looking for Master Vettel.” Max whispered to (Y/N) as they walked into a very elaborate building. After boarding a shuttle from The Temple, Max told her that he was going to show her some parts of Coruscant. And the first place he decided to show her was the Senate Building.

 “What are we doing here, exactly?” (Y/N) asked as the two of them walked past various people of different races and species. Most were dressed in well designed clothing.

“Sometimes the Jedi are asked to sit in on Senate meetings for either advice or input. Master Vettel is here all the time even though The Senate doesn’t always listen to his advice.” Max told her.

 “That still doesn’t answer my question. Why are the two of us here specifically? Is sitting in a Senate meeting going to teach me something about being a Jedi?” (Y/N) asked. Max let out a chuckle.

 “No, we won’t sit in on any meetings today. Though there may come a time where you may have to sit in on one or even give input. It depends on the matter. I think the meetings are boring from what little I’ve had to sit in on.” Max said. “I just thought it would be a good idea for you to see where all the big decisions that affect The Republic are made.”

(Y/N) looked around at the elaborate architecture and the fine clothes that people were wearing around her. (Y/N) couldn’t help but scowl a bit.

 “All this fancy stuff for a big group of people that don’t seem to do much for the people that actually need help.” (Y/N) mumbled. 

 “I’m sorry?” Max looked at his padawan confused. (Y/N) was about to respond to him when an older gentleman with brown hair and fine burgundy robes approached the two.

“If it isn’t the famed Jedi Knight, Max Verstappen.” The man said, patting Max’s shoulder like they were old friends.

 “Oh, hello Senator Horner. How are matters going?” Max asked, greeting the older man. The man, Senator Horner, smiled.

 “It’s been a very eventful morning. As of this moment, I am no longer a Senator but am now the Supreme Chancellor of The Senate.” He said.

 “Oh, congratulations! This seems so sudden though.”

“Well considering the previous Chancellor hadn’t been delivering what the people wanted ever since he was elected and issues with the Trade Federation have been mounting up to where there could be a full out war any day now, a vote of no confidence was called and I was elected Chancellor.” Chancellor Horner explained. He then noticed the younger padawan standing next to Max

 “And who might you be?” Chancellor Horner asked, kneeling in front of (Y/N) and offering his hand for her to shake.

“I’m (Y/N). Max’s new padawan.” (Y/N) shook his hand and a look of surprise displayed on Chancellor Horner’s face. (Y/N) looked at him a bit confused.

 “Forgive the surprise that’s on my face. Max has mentioned multiple times that he wouldn’t take on a padawan, but you seem to be an exception.” Chancellor Horner said. While his face did show a bit of shock, there was something else in his gaze that (Y/N) couldn’t quite name.

“With Max as your teacher, I’m sure you’ll soon make a fine Jedi. I shall watch your career with great interest. But for now I must attend to some matters as the new Supreme Chancellor. Farewell you two.” Chancellor Horner bade Max and (Y/N) goodbye before being swept up in conversation with another passing senator. (Y/N) watched him walk away but Max’s attention was drawn to a beautiful woman dressed in elegant white and purple robes. Her face was put in a nervous expression as she partially bit her lower lip. Max smiled.

“Senator Piquet!” Max called out, practically rushing over to the woman. “How are you?”

 “Oh, Max! I’m surprised to see you here.” Senator Piquet smiled and greeted Max as (Y/N) hurried over to him.

“I’m showing my new padawan around Coruscant and thought to show her the Senate building.” Max said, placing a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder and sort of ushering her forward.

 “Hello. I’m Senator Kelly Piquet of Naboo. What’s your name?” Senator Piquet asked, holding out a hand for the girl to shake the same way Chancellor Horner did.

“I’m (Y/N).” The girl shook her hand. “Forgive me but you looked a little troubled, Senator.”

“Is it that obvious? My apologies. Matters from the recent meeting have made me question my decisions.” Senator Piquet said.

 “What was the meeting about? We just heard from Senator Horner that he was just made Chancellor of the Senate.” Max said.

“That’s the matter that troubles me. I was convinced that calling a vote of no confidence was the right thing but now I feel like I may have doomed the senate. That I’ve failed the people of Naboo. I was only just elected and if my first action is one that causes harm, I don’t know how I could live with myself.” Senator Piquet explained.  

 “Well you won’t really know until time passes.” (Y/N) said. 

“I suppose you're right. Besides, I can’t focus my worries on that decision now when the Trade Federation is still blocking trade to Naboo.” 

 “Any updates on the negotiations?” Max asked.

“No. I unfortunately received word from the Jedi Council that their attempt at negotiation didn’t go well either. If mine and the Jedi Council’s attempt at negotiations didn’t work, I don’t know what will get the Trade Federation to stop.”

 “Why don’t both of you try to approach the Trade Federation to negotiate? If the Trade Federation is just one entity, then two should be better against one.” (Y/N) suggested.

 “That is something I haven’t actually thought about.” Senator Piquet said. “You actually have a really good suggestion, (Y/N). I’ll have to meet with the governing body of Naboo first, but I’d like to attempt your idea.”

 “If you do, I’d be happy to accompany you to the negotiations. For your protection” Max said. (Y/N) noticed blush start to slowly creep up on Max’s face. 

“While I appreciate the offer Max, I can assure you that I can take care of myself.” Senator Piquet said. “I have to inform my fellow delegates about the recent Senate meeting now. But it was nice to chat with you and it was lovely to meet you (Y/N).”

 “Have a lovely day, Senator Piquet.” Max said as he waved goodbye to the senator. He had an almost goofy grin on his face that (Y/N) noticed. She narrowed her eyes at him

“You seem to really like Senator Piquet.” She said. Max looked down at (Y/N) and shook his head to try and display disbelief. But it didn’t get rid of the blush on his cheeks.

 “I do not.” He said. (Y/N) wore a teasing look.

“The hearts in your eyes tell me otherwise.” (Y/N) said. “That’s why you brought us here. Not to show me anything but so you can talk to Senator Piquet.”

 “You’re being delusional.” Max said, ruffling his padawan’s hair  before looking back at Senator Piquet. “Besides, the code forbids Jedi from having any romantic attachments."

(Y/N) watched as an older gentleman approached Senator Piquet and greeted her with a kiss. Max’s smile fell and his face hardened. 

 “She’s also married.” Max said, almost somberly as he stared at the man that now had his arm around the Senator. He turned around, not wanting to look at the scene anymore. (Y/N) looked for a bit longer, at the glowing faces of Senator Piquet and her husband, before she too turned around and looked at Max.

 “Do you have a favorite place to go to in Coruscant?” She asked. Max nodded his head but didn’t say anything.

 “Why don’t you show it to me.”

Max’s favorite place on Coruscant turned out to be a noodle shop in the middle level of the planet that Max claimed “served the best noodle dishes”. (Y/N) could agree with that statement as the dishes did taste delicious. They also seemed to improve Max’s mood, as he seemed relaxed and somewhat happy when they got back to The Temple. 

 “Remember, don’t tell anyone I took you out of the Temple.” Max whispered to (Y/N) as they walked through the entrance.

“I won’t say a thing.” (Y/N) promised him, crossing her heart for emphasis.

 “Was today a good lesson?” Max asked.

“Yea. I think it was pretty good.” (Y/N) told him. Max smiled.

 “Good. Tomorrow I want to assess your ability with using The Force to move objects like Seb told me you could do. Then…maybe I’ll teach you how to use a training saber.”

 “Really?” Excitement spread across the girl’s face and she almost started bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

 “I said maybe. No guarantee.” Max said. “I’ll let you have the rest of the day to yourself. If you need me, I’ll be in the training room.”

“Ok, see you tomorrow Max!” (Y/N) waved and turned to leave, but something caught Max’s attention.

“Wait!” Max kneeled in front of (Y/N) and gently took her attempt of a braid in his hands. He undid it and braided the strands properly before tying it off with a hair band and a small yellow bead he had taken from his pocket.

 “Sorry, but it’s been bugging me the whole day.” Max said. “That bead on the end is the same one I wore when I was a padawan.”

(Y/N) held the newly done braid in front of her face to get a good look at it. She stared at the bead and smiled before looking at Max.

 “Thank you.” She said before heading back to her quarters.

~~~

KNOCK! KNOCK!

A knock at her door interrupted (Y/N)’s routine of getting ready for bed. She threw on her robe before opening her door to reveal Logan standing in front of her. Behind him, Oscar stood a few feet away.

 “Hi Logan. Hi Oscar.” (Y/N) said, greeting the two boys. Oscar waved from behind Logan.

“Hey (Y/N). Me and Oscar are going to sneak up to the roof and watch the ships and speeders fly by. Do you want to join us?” Logan asked. His voice was quiet, almost like he didn’t want anyone nearby to hear what he was proposing. 

 “You’re talking like that’s not something we’re supposed to do.” (Y/N) whispered, matching Logan’s tone. She smiled. “I’m in!”

Logan and Oscar lead (Y/N) through a different route than the one her and Max took to get to the roof earlier this morning. Going up a set of stairs, the three padawans emerged onto a different part of the temple roof that (Y/N) had not seen before. This part gave a perfect view of the skyway filled with bustling ships and speeders driving past. The various lights from the ships, speeders, and neon billboards lit up the night sky, almost to the point where it was hard to see the stars. At least from this part of the city.

 “Think there will be any new ones tonight?” Oscar asked as he leaned over the railing.

“I heard there was a big Senate meeting today so there might be some ships from other planets.” Logan said. He squinted at one of the many skyways before his face lit up.

 “Aha! That’s an RE60. You don’t see those types of ships often on Coruescant.” Logan had pointed to a yellow, black, and white speeder ship that seemed to not want to be stuck in the traffic that it was in.

 “Oh, there’s an A522. Those ships were always coming for repairs back on Tattoonie.” (Y/N) said as she pointed out a pink and blue freight ship. 

 “Do you know a bit about ships and speeders?” Oscar asked. (Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

 “I worked at a repair and spare parts shop before I came here. Of course I know a bit about ships and speeders.” (Y/N) told him.

 “What’s your favorite model then? I personally like the FW46 speeder.” Logan said.

“Mate that speeder hasn’t been performing well from what I’ve heard. Now the MCL60? That’s where it’s at in terms of good speeders.” Oscar said. 

 “I think you’re both wrong. The best speeder is the SF24.” (Y/N) said. The three padawans started to argue about the better models of ships and speeders. It almost got pretty heated until the three’s attention was drawn to someone speeding past the various skyways with sentry droids chasing it. 

 “That person’s driving like a maniac.” (Y/N) mumbled.

“That’s how it is on Coruscant.” Logan told her as he gestured with his hand to the skyways in front of them. (Y/N)’s eyes were drawn to Logan’s gloves. They seemed out of place to the regular garb she, Oscar and others were wearing around the temple.

“Can I ask, what’s with the gloves?” (Y/N) said. Logan looked down at his gloves with a bit of nervousness and (Y/N) thought that she may have crossed a line. “You don’t have to tell me, I’m just a bit curious.”

Logan shook his head and the nervousness went away.

“No, it’s ok. I’ve got a…unique ability where if I touch something, I can see it’s past.” Logan said.

 “No way! That’s so cool!” (Y/N) exclaimed. 

“Really?” Logan seemed a bit shocked at the girl’s amazement.

 “Yea! You can see the history of an object! You could see what it’s been through or how it was made!” (Y/N) said. “Do the gloves help with that?”

 “Well the gloves actually help dampen my psychometry. That’s what Master Albon calls it.” Logan said. He watched a speeder fly past before speaking again.

“When I first came to The Order, everything I touched I would get a vision from it, it was very overwhelming. Now, depending on the object, I could still get a vision from it even with the gloves on. But I’m working on trying to choose when I have these visions so that I’m not just hit with a vision on immediate touch.” Logan explained.  

 “That sounds really interesting.” (Y/N) said before turning to Oscar. “What about you Oscar? Do you have any unique abilities?”

“Nah. Not that I’m aware of anyway. But I’m still just a padawan and I’m still learning so who knows. Maybe I’ll discover something while I’m training under Master Norris.” Oscar said. Then he turned to (Y/N) “How bout you?”

 “I don’t think I have any special abilities. I mean…Sebastian, well I guess I need to call him Master Vettel now, he said that he thinks I could be an exceptional Jedi. But when he was talking with The Council, they mentioned that he thinks I’m “The Chosen". Whatever that means.” (Y/N) explained.

 “Seems like Master Vettel has high expectations for you. Who did they assign to be your teacher?” Logan asked.

 “Max. Uh, Master Vestappen is I guess how he’s known but he wants me to just call him Max because he felt weird being addressed by the title of “Master””(Y/N) said. Both boys looked at her with shock.

“What?!” 

 “Get out. They gave you Verstappen?”

“Is he a good teacher?” (Y/N) asked them. 

 “Beats me. He’s never been assigned a padawan but he’s also the youngest padawan to be promoted to a Jedi Knight.” Oscar told her.

 “When was he promoted?” (Y/N) asked.

“Two years ago, when he was 14.  The Council must have really big expectations for you if they gave you Verstappen.” Logan said. (Y/N)’s happy mood seemed to start to sour a bit. She already knew that Seb had high expectations of her and she already assumed Max was somewhat of a big deal in The Temple. But the fact that he was the youngest padawan to become a Jedi Knight, and he was assigned to be her teacher, what does that say for the expectations The Council had for (Y/N). She tried not to think about it, instead focusing back on trying to name ships with Logan and Oscar. For right now, they were just padawans enjoying the night skyline.

But they weren’t the only ones up late. Back in the temple, Seb was meeting with some of his fellow Jedi Masters. 

 “I do agree with you that your encounter with a Sith is cause for worry.” Master Webber said as they sat in the council room. Currently the council was discussing Seb and Kimi’s encounter with the Sith back on Tatoonie and how to go about handling the matter.

“I think we should be concerned about the growing dark side activity I’ve encountered on previous missions. None of it seemed to connect to one another, but the amount of it is questionable.” Kimi said. “I think the Sith we encountered was a part of it.”

 “If it does seem like the Sith are coming back, I think we should stop this matter for it even has a chance to see the light of day.” Master Hamilton said.

“How do we go about this then?” Master Button asked. “If the Sith have been hiding for this long, they’re not going to be easy to find.”

 “Well we know what caused the Sith to appear on Tatoonie.” Master Webber said, looking at Seb. Seb looked at Master Webber with a quizzical look.

“I hope you're not implying what I think you’re implying.” Seb said.

 “It seems like our only known option to lure the Sith out.” 

“You want to use (Y/N) as bait?” Seb asked, disbelief at the own words that had to come out of his mouth

 “If it means we can lure a potential Sith out of hiding and stop whatever they may be planning before it even starts, then yes.” Master Webber said. 

 “How exactly would you go about that? She just started her training with no real means to defend herself if something were to happen!” Seb exclaimed. “There has to be another way.”

“We wouldn’t have her be by herself, that’s ridiculous. She’d at least have Knight Verstappen with her.” Master Rosberg said. “If we wait any longer, it just gives the Sith and whoever they may be working with to properly plan something, if they haven’t already.”

“I think we may already have a possible plan that could work.” Kimi said. Everyone’s attention turned to him.

“Senator Piquet reached out to us. About the possibility of both the Jedi Order and Naboo jointly trying to negotiate with the Trade Federation. I think this could serve as a possibility for us to also lure out our Phantom.” Kimi proposed.

 “What do you mean?”

“I think that the Phantom was a part of the group of ships that chased us down the first time we tried to negotiate. Which means the phantom that was after (Y/N) is working with the Trade Federation.” Kimi said. 

 “That would put both Senator Piquet and (Y/N) in possible danger.” Seb said. 

“Not if we anticipate the danger. Senator Piquet will have her guards and Kimi and Seb, you can go in and be part of the negotiations. We’ll ask Verstappen to come along as extra protection for the Senator and that brings (Y/N) along with him.”

 “What you’re proposing is unbelievable.” Seb said, disgust lacing his voice.

“But it can assure peace for both us and the Republic.” Master Webber. “All those in favor of this plan?”

Seven hands with up, including Kimi’s.

 “All those opposed.”

Seb’s hand was the only one raised. 

 “It is decided then on how we will tackle this matter of The Sith.”

Seb left the meeting with disbelief and disgust at the Council’s decision. He knew this was a bad idea. No matter how much he will mediate on the matter later, Seb couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong.

~~~

TAGLIST: @fangirl-dot-com @chasing-liberosis @miarabanana @vicurious28 @mayo-0-o @nikfigueiredo @annabellelee

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

You know, I was just thinking about the UA entrance exam.

Specifically, how terribly designed it is, but not for the reason they seem to give in the story itself.

Like, here's how it is: Aizawa is shown criticising the UA Entrance Exam once, during the Sports Festival. And the ONE criticism he makes, is that the use of Robot enemies during the exam would disproportionately affect people whose Quirk work against biological opponents, essentially.

His one criticism, is that the exam is not designed to also cater to people like him, and that's it. The way therefore it's set up, it'd be logical to assume he'd ask for a restructuring to the exam to remove the Robots and substitute them with live enemies, possibly Ectoplasm clones.

This is never brought up again, aside from maybe a stealth bring up during the mid term exams when they switch the exam from fighting robots to fighting teachers.

The exam is, and I just got to it myself while watching this video about how Copaganda paints police training and the relative risk police officers face on the job, set up in a very specific environment:

An empty town, where what is essentially a murder spree is taking place. The ONLY entities in the place, outside of fellow examinee, are robots that have been literally designed to attack everyone on sight, and that need to be destroyed to pass. The points granted from saving people are hidden, so they can be more "genuine" of course, and are, ultimately, also part of the problem.

Because here's the fucking thing.

When the fuck is that ever going to happen.

When the fuck, is a superhero, after their 5 years of Hero training in high school, then entering the work force without a need for a decree in higher education, ever going to find themselves in an environment where they can use LETHAL FORCE on civilian targets? With no restraint or care for collateral damage?

And where they are ENCOURAGED to kill as many criminals as they can, and NOT collaborate with other heroes? Because that's another thing, you need to steal points from other people to pass, by culling the number of limited robots, much like heroes are paid by the arrest and by popularity.

You do understand how fucked up that starts to sound right? The other, the enemy, is reduced as a caricature Droid from star wars, there only to kill and destroy, and against whom your only TWO methods of defeat are outright destruction or sneak attacks on their off buttons.

And here's the cherry on the shit too, because, AGAIN, when is that EVER going to be the case?

Do you know how many heroes show up in the first villain attack in BNHA?

Five.

Two are engaging a purse snatcher, three are doing crowd control, the Slime Villain, who may I remind you was guilty of robbery at a convenience store before he got the hostage, gets THE NUMBER ONE HERO, as well as those same FIVE heroes involved, of which only BACKDRAFT is actually doing anything.

Now, imagine you are a hero school, and you produce 40 heroes a year, just like every other hero school out there. How many of those heroes will see active duty, if the rate of crimes demand FIVE heroes to react to ONE criminal?

And people will say "but EDS, this mentality is later rewarded when All Might retires and it all falls to shit," Except NOT REALLY, because that's an externally forced situation caused by, and I can't stress this enough, a hundreds of yeas old NEET boomer who read too many Doctor Doom comics as a kid and decided to become a supervillain, the riots, the open air warfare, is only caused by AFO forcing the hand and inciting popular unrest, which is an unrealistic thing to expect off any society.

In one of the movies, Class 1-A is sent to open an hero agency on a small island with barely a village on it. 20 Heroes. Until the movie truly picks up, the best they do is help kittens from trees, and Bakugou, the sort of person for whom the Entrance Exam was designed, is useless, left in his tent like Achilles, the perfect cowboy cop who peeked in highschool and didn't realize just how much paperwork and dead time his dream job actually entailed.

So that's the ACTUAL Issue with the entrance exam. It take no account for any other mean to beat the robots but brute force, it takes no account for collateral damage, or the sanctity of life of your opponents, and it tests nothing but how good at ending lives you are.

Which is a problem when you're picking future heroes.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

I Know the End | Vol. 4

Poe Dameron x Reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Summary: You were one of the Rebellion’s greatest weapons in the Galactic Civil War, a Princess from a distant planet, a Jedi with wings. Now, you’ve found yourself in a new world, a new war, your old friends long gone.

When Poe Dameron was sent on a wild goose chase of a reconnaissance mission four systems out, he never expected to find the key to his heart…

Note: At long last, here it is. Thank you for your patience. I love you all. I honestly wrote this as a long-winded attempt to make Poe Dameron’s dumbest line “Somehow, Palpatine returned” into a gut-wrenching and emotional moment and it got way out of hand. I am no Star Wars expert, but I did a lot of research for this and consider myself waaaaaaay more of a SW nerd now than I was a mere two months ago. Could probably write a dissertation on it at this point (I say as I literally churned out a novel). It is my first time writing for the fandom, though, so, here goes nothing. I did make up a fair bit of stuff and a good handful of OCs for this. Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, lightsaber and blaster wounds, alcohol consumption, war and the implications of it, gets a little steamy but no smut, reader has nightmares, misuse of the Force, Rewriting the Rise of Skywalker a lil bit…

Word Count: 82.7k total (Split into four approximately 20k chunks)

Reader Is: 24, a Jedi, a Princess, has butterfly wings

Vol 1. | Vol 2. | Vol 3. | Vol 4.

Somehow…

You walked up the hill to your favorite spot, chest heavy with emotion. You set your bag against a rock, Rey and Soren running the course out in the trees. You should have been there with them. Or, at the very least, out there with Poe. But there was nothing you could do about that now.

BB-8 rolled over, beeping up at you inquisitively.

“He leave you here to check on me?” You asked.

He nodded his little head adorably.

“Well that was sweet of him.” You said, kneeling down to pat the top of his head. “Thank you for checking in. I’m gonna meditate up here for a while, if you want to go shadow Soren or Rey.”

He beeped, nodding, telling you he’d go follow Rey for a bit. You watched as he rolled along, his orange and white little head ducking through a patch of brush.

You sat on the rock, legs crossed. You closed your eyes, the Force’s call loud this time. All-consuming. The sounds of Ajan Kloss swept quickly away, and silence swallowing you instead. Darkness.

You breathed, forcing your lungs to take in the air, to let it out. You listened. You waited.

First, you saw Kylo, searching for something. His energy was frazzled. Desperate. He was conflicted, that much was clear. Maybe Rey was right. Maybe he wasn’t completely gone. For Leia’s sake, you hoped that was true.

You let the breath out, taking another, pushing your mind elsewhere. Deeper. You carefully skirted around Maddox, but landed in the First Order, in the mind of one of the Generals, thinking about their new fleet. He was talking to some of the other officers, arranging things, moving this fleet, starting their operation. You got chills and pulled away, slipping out unnoticed before he could catch a whiff of you poking around.

Moving to something lighter, you watched Rey and Soren, running the training course, BB-8 rolling along behind her. Soren deflected hits with ease, jumping from tree to tree. Rey was…having some difficulty, though. She’d been in her head a lot lately, like you, but it was different for her. She and Kylo were still connected. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like, to be linked to someone like him, through the Force no less. No matter where she went, she took him with her, whether she liked it or not.

You exhaled, breath leaving your mouth in what felt like puffs of steam, fogging up like it had on Hoth. You heard a wicked laugh. A familiar one. Utter darkness. Dark enough to swallow you whole. The hairs on your arms stood straight, goosebumps pricking up. It pulled you. It called. Like a lullaby, but…wrong.

No. No, not that.

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the feeling, the ice water trickling down your spine. It was empty for a long time, flashes of things fleeting across your mind, but not staying long.

A battle. Lightsabers clashing. Blasters firing. Stormtroopers. A fleet of Star Destroyers against a storming sky. The Millenium Falcon. A desert. A knife. A kiss.

Your heart raced, mind guided forcibly by the hand until you emerged from the trees in your mind. Poe and Finn had landed, Poe walking quickly out of the Falcon, which was engulfed in flames.

“It’s on fire. Whole thing’s on fire! All of it–! Fire!” He waved a hand behind him, focusing on Rey. “Really could have…used your help out there!” 

“How’d it go?”

“Really bad, actually! Really bad!”

“Han’s ship!”

“What did you do to the droid?”

“What’d you do to the Falcon?”

“Falcon’s in a lot better shape than he is!”

“BB-8’s not on fire!”

“What’s left of him isn’t on fire!”

“You know what you are?”

Poe grinned, annoyed. “What?”

“You’re difficult. You’re a difficult man.”

“You…you are…” He grunted.

“They’re back, Aunt (Y/N).” Soren said, stirring you from your vision. It occurred to you then that it wasn’t a vision. You’d caught up to the present. How…how long had you been meditating.

The sun was definitely lower in the sky when you opened your eyes. It had been hours. It had only felt like minutes. Something about that place you’d been, that dark, cold void, had just sucked the time away.

“Oh. Shit. Alright.” You touched down, feet making contact with the ground once more. You walked with Soren through the trees, to where Poe and Rey were arguing, through the dialogue you’d just heard. You glanced down at BB-8. Sure enough, something had happened while you were near-unconscious, floating in the air. One of Bee’s panels had been knocked clean off.

Poe knelt down beside him, face in his hands. He looked unharmed. A wave of relief washed over you, the sight of him melting away your stress. He hadn’t noticed you standing there yet.

Chewie roared, arms in the air. Poe had lightspeed skipped the Falcon.

“You lightspeed skipped?!” Rey asked.

“Yeah, well, it got us back here, didn’t it?”

“Poe, the compressor’s down!”

“Oh, I know! I was there!”

“You can’t lightspeed skip the Falcon!”

“Actually, turns out, you can!” Poe shouted.

“Alright, guys, we just landed, okay?” Finn said, trying to to keep the peace.

They went back and forth for a little longer. Poe and Finn confirmed there had been a spy that they got information from, a First Order operative who was now feeding the Resistance information.

BB-8 told Poe what had happened. “You dropped a tree on him?”

“You blew both sub-alternators?!”

They bickered back and forth some more and Poe finally caught your eyes. “Yeah, but you’re not. You’re here training. For what?! You’re the best fighters we have. We need you. Out there, not here.”

“Poe…” Your heart raced, a lump in your throat. It was your fault. You should have gone with him when he asked.

“Baby…” He shook his head, waving his hands as though he could dispel his anger with a single flourish. He exhaled, looking tired. “Maybe you were right. We could have used a Jedi out there…” Poe bit his lip, thinking before he spoke, before he made that sad look in your eyes worse. “I’m gonna hit the fresher. We’ll talk after.”

“Alright.” You nodded, watching as he went, firing some orders on the way there, making sure the files got properly decoded in the meantime.

BB-8 looked up at you, beeping sadly.

“No, it’s okay. Poe and I are fine.” You reassured him. “Let’s get you fixed up, alright?”

He nodded his head, following you along to the workshop. You hauled him up onto one of the empty stations near the entrance, pulling out the necessary tools, a spare panel to replace the one that had fallen off, and you set to work, fixing him up with a screwdriver, using the Force to make sure everything was tight, fit in place. You had a pair of goggles on your face, to help with the smaller details, giving you the zoom you needed to see them.

You pulled out the paint next, the shade of orange that matched the rest of him, and gingerly began painting the panel until it matched.

“How do you know how to do that?” Poe’s voice was low, rolling at the back of his throat. You turned to find him standing in the workshop’s doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

“I had a droid. Did repairs on her when the mechs were too busy.” You replied, brush strokes gently filling in the color, careful not to deviate from the crisp lines.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Didn’t know that.”

“Mmhmm.” You shrugged, finishing up and tucking the tools back into their places. You used a small fan to dry the top coat faster. You knew BB-8, knew he’d be racing as soon as you set him down, smearing the fresh paint throughout base.

“What happened to her?”

“I’m…I don’t know. It’s been thirty years and I haven’t seen her roaming around. Artoo never mentioned her, and I haven’t brought it up. She…might have gotten scrapped or destroyed…”

BB-8 asked if it was dry yet, sounding impatient.

You laughed, reaching out a tentative finger to check, and sure enough, it was. “Looks like you’re good to go. Here, let’s get you back on the ground.” You picked up the heavy droid, Poe helping to lower him to the ground. “How do you feel? Everything fit right? Everything’s in the right spot?”

He gave a cursory roll around the workshop, whirring excitedly, complimenting your work.

You sat back on the workbench, looking up at Poe, his hair still damp from the fresher. He looked clean, but still tired. You could feel how he was frayed at the edges. You reached up to touch his cheek, dark and dusted with more stubble than usual. It made him look older.

“You’re giving me that look.”

“What look?” You asked, eyes sparkling innocently.

“That look you get when you’re thinking too much.”

“Yeah, well, excuse me for being worried about my boyfriend.” You chuckled as he took a step closer, slotting himself between your legs and pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “He is a pilot, after all, it’s a pretty dangerous gig.”

He wrapped his arms around your figure, exhaling deeply. You inhaled the scent of him. That soap that smelled like fresh rain. You could have drowned in it, you were sure. In him.

“You smell good.” You murmured, smiling when he chuckled against you.

“You like that, huh?”

“Mmhmm.” You pulled him closer, tears welling in your eyes, that lump returning to your throat “I should have been there, Poe. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine. We all are. I just…It’s hard for me to wrap my head around sometimes, this Jedi stuff. But it’s important, too.”

You pressed a long kiss to his cheek. He turned his head, catching your lips instead, arms holding you close. You stayed like that for a long moment until you heard someone clear their throat in the doorway.

“Hey, uh, they just about got those files decrypted. Leia’s calling a meeting in an hour. Wants to talk to both of you first.” Snap said.

“Thanks, buddy. We’ll head that way.” Poe said with a smile. He offered his hand and you took it gladly, fingers threaded together. He gave your hand a squeeze. You walked through base together, drawing a few pairs of eyes, but you didn’t care anymore. BB-8 rolled on ahead, greeting the other droids as everyone gathered.

Your heart raced, stomach sinking when you saw the look on Leia’s face. You couldn’t place it yet, what was wrong. But the feeling alone was enough to tell you it was bad. Nearly unspeakable. Like that deep, dark void you had seen, icewater chilling in your veins. 

You tensed, wings flaring, eyes widening as you realized.

“Hey.” Poe squeezed your hand, sensing the way you froze. “What’s…?”

She didn’t even have to say it. You already knew.

“Palpatine.”

***

“Artoo decrypted the files from the First Order spy and…it confirms the worst.” Poe began, the entire Resistance packed into the hangar, circled up to listen. 

You sat on a crate at the edge of the circle, shoulders hunched, wings drooping, pain etched deep into your eyes. It was like your soul had been crushed to a fine powder, sprinkled across the galaxy. Thirty years earlier, you’d given your life to stop Insidia from reviving Palpatine. And it was all for nothing. The attack on Mariposas, your decades in cryosleep. It was meaningless now. You’d given up your life, your friends, all of it to protect a future that hadn’t come to pass. He’d been there, pulling the strings the whole time, manipulating Kylo, creating the First Order…

Poe let out a broken sigh, eyes lingering on your hunched figure before delivering the news. “Somehow, Palpatine returned.”

The Resistance murmured, trying to figure out exactly how it had happened. Was it dark cloning? Sith magic? You wanted to pipe up, tell them exactly how. Cultists, led by Insidia, then your own brother, feeding him Force users until he’d reached his full strength again. Or, full enough. You doubted he was already at his full strength. If he was…it would be worse.

No wonder the Jedi were no more. They’d all been drained to nothing to revive the man who’d ruined your life and nearly destroyed the galaxy.

Poe continued to explain the situation, the fleet forming on Exegol, the Sith planet. The Final Order.

You wanted to collapse. Wanted to lay down, wanted to scream, wanted to let it all out in a blinding wave of Force energy, but you couldn’t. Couldn’t move. Paralyzed by the encroaching sense of doom. Dark and all-consuming.

“Princess, are you alright?” One of the guys in intel asked once the meeting was disbanded. Beaumont. He was nice, had kind eyes, a gentle smile. He’d been a teacher before he left for the Resistance.

You nodded, forcing yourself to perk up, straightening out your posture. Right. There were people watching. Always were. And if you didn’t have hope, how were they expected to? “Fine. I’m fine. Just…thinking. Trying to…wrap my head around all of this.”

Rey came walking back towards the group with one of Luke’s journals, one you hadn’t touched yet. She flipped through the pages, holding it up to show you. “Luke was trying to find Exegol. After the attack on Mariposas. Nearly found it, too, but his trail went cold on Pasaana tracking down a Sith Wayfinder. We could go. The two of us. Finish this.”

She meant it. You could see it in her eyes. That spark. Just you and her, leaving to finish what you and Luke had started. To put an end to the madness once and for all. Poe and Finn could stay behind, make a plan for the final fight, figure out how to destroy the fleet before they set out on their attack of the galaxy.

And no matter what happened, the fate of the Jedi would be safe in Soren’s hands. In Finn’s.

It seemed dangerous, but…it had to be done. The clock was already ticking, and you were running out of time.

You grabbed a bag, heading towards the Falcon with Rey.

“What, were you even going to say goodbye?” Poe asked, causing you to freeze in place, turning to face him. “Or were you just gonna pull outta here with the compressor still smoking?”

“I had a feeling you might not take it so well.”

“Yeah, well you were right. We’re coming with you.” Poe said, touching your arm on the way into the Falcon with Chewie. Finn was right behind him.

“It’s too dangerous. We’re meant to do this.” Rey said, trying to reason with them, but you could tell they were set on it.

“And we’re meant to go with you.” Finn said. “You’re not going without us. But I’ll let you argue with him about it if you want.” He motioned to Poe.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. That wasn’t an argument you would win.

“Repairs will be done tomorrow morning. We’re going with you.” Poe said, coming back out of the ship. He brushed the hair out of your face, eyes full of love and determination. “End of story.”

“What if they need you here?”

“What if you need me there?” He countered, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s been a while since we’ve been on a mission together. I can’t wait to see what you can do now, with all that training, your Highness.”

“Poe.”

“(Y/N).”

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes. “What if something happens to you?”

“What if something happens to you and I’m not there?” He asked. It had been weighing on him. He tilted his head, sincerity in his voice. “I’d rather die, with you, helping you, knowing I made a difference, then letting you face this alone. We’re finishing this. Together. Whether I make it to the end or not.”

“Poe–”

“You told me you didn’t expect to survive the Rebellion. You were willing to die for the cause. Isn’t this the same?”

You stared at him for a long moment, searching his eyes, his feelings, that warmth in his chest steadfast and strong. It wasn’t the same. Not anymore. Not for you. You were willing to die, sure, but…that little life you’d seen, his graying hair, his wizened face, his reading glasses…

The wedding ring…

In all your visions of it, you’d never seen yourself there. Just him. You didn’t want to risk that. His future, whether or not you were in it.

“Baby, you can fight with me all night about it, alright? I’m going. So’s Finn.” He said, tone still tense. Still…fighting. He was always a fighter, you’d known that from the start. You just never expected him to be fighting you.

***

The crew had a bonfire that night. Word had spread. Your top secret mission wasn’t so secret anymore. People were scrambling to figure out what they’d do with all of you gone. And with three of the four Jedi leaving, Soren made it his mission to stay. To help around the base. To be the resident Jedi in your stead.

Your legacy.

You and Laesynda had one last, final talk. She wished you all the luck in the galaxy, prayed you’d come back this time. That it wouldn’t be another thirty years before she got to see her sister again.

You stared into the flames, arms crossed, thinking about all of it. The gathering was devoid of its usual chatter, joking banter between the Resistance fighters. Things were bleak. If it didn’t go well, if Palpatine couldn’t be stopped…this night could very well be one of your last. All of you. The First Order would snuff out the Resistance like a birthday candle.

Poe sat beside you, quiet. He didn’t want to argue any more, but couldn’t stomach the look in your eye. The worry. He wondered what all you’d seen, the things you weren’t sharing with him. He ran a hand down his face, letting out a long sigh.

Why did dating a Jedi have to be so kriffin’ complicated…

Budding in his chest, he felt something, a somewhat familiar sensation. He’d felt it only once before. And when he looked up, sure enough, Luke Skywalker’s Force Ghost was standing at the edge of the woods, meeting his eyes this time.

Poe blinked, staring at him. He pointed at his chest, as if to ask “who, me?” The Jedi of legend shook his head, motioning to you. Ah, right. That made sense. Obviously he was there to see you.

Poe nudged you, pulling you from your thoughts, hand tight around yours as the light of the fire danced around your face. “Hey, uhhh…”

You looked over at him, anxious to hear what he had to say now that he was finally ready to talk. Instead, he tilted his head towards Luke, who stood there, a sullen look in his eyes.

You chuckled softly. “Oh. Okay. I’ll be back soon.” You squeezed his hand, pressing a long kiss to his cheek, as if to reassure him of something. You knew it had to be weird for him, the ghost of your dead ex-boyfriend coming around for a chat.

Poe nodded, watching as you walked off with him. He took a long sip of his beer.

“I was wondering if you’d show up to see me off.” You murmured, meeting him face to face once more. It felt right, seeing him before the end.

“Leia said I should give this to you myself. I heard you’d been looking for one, Jedi Master.” Luke held up a saber, his second. The green one. You’d wondered what had happened to it, but had never had the time to investigate that yourself. You didn’t even know where to start looking, to be honest.

You nodded. “For Finn. Thank you.”

“Three Padawans. They’re all doing well under your instruction. I…well, I’m really proud of you, you know. You’re really doing it. You’re fostering a new generation of Jedi.”

“Trying to. It would be…well, it would be easier with you here.” You said softly, daring to meet his eyes, to imagine the life where you got to stay. Where you and Luke started the Jedi again, together. Where Kylo never turned to the dark side and the First Order never rose to power.

It would have been nice. Growing old with him. Living that dream. But it was only ever that. A dream. Never had it ever been real to you, even when you begged the Force for it to be so.

“I know. I’m sorry, Princess. But, for what it’s worth, I think it’s gonna work out.”

“You do?”

“I do. You and that pilot of yours are good together. He’s…determined. A fighter. One hell of a pilot. And you can tell him I said that. He’s pretending not to look over here right now, looking out of the corner of his eye. Checking on you.”

“Sounds like Poe.” You chuckled. “Did you know about…him? Us?”

“It might have crossed my mind a few times.” Luke admitted, rubbing at his ghostly beard. “I knew you’d be okay, regardless. That you had someone like him to help you pick up the pieces.”

You nodded, reminiscing softly on your relationship. On both relationships.

Luke met your eyes. He closed them, and his form shifted, back to his younger self. The Luke Skywalker you had loved. The Luke you had fought alongside, who’d been your everything. Your partner, your fellow Jedi, your best friend. You didn’t fight him this time, let him keep the form. You knew you needed to hear these words from your Luke.

“We started this path. You and I. Together. You and Rey are going to finish it. I can’t see how it ends, no one can, but the Force will guide you. And I’ll be right there, by your side.” He reached for you and you stepped forward, hugging him, his form solidifying in your hold, arms tight around you.

You closed your eyes, letting out a long breath.

“I always loved you, you know.” Luke confessed.

“I know. I loved you, too.” You replied, pulling away to look at that youthful face one last time. Your former lover. Your friend. “Thank you. For everything, Luke.”

And then he was gone, fading right before your eyes until you were left there with the open air, a cold lightsaber hilt in your hand.

You turned back to the bonfire, making a beeline for Finn, who was leaned against a tree, trying to convince Rose to go with you guys the following day. She wasn’t having it.

“Finn, I, uh, got you a present.” You said.

“For me?” He asked, curiosity glimmering in his warm gaze. His smile dropped when he saw it, though, gripped in your hand. Luke Skywalker’s missing saber. His heart raced. “That’s not…”

“It is.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. You’re ready for it. If you’re coming with us tomorrow, you’re taking this saber.” You insisted, handing it to him and curling his fingers around it, forcing him to take it. “That’s my one condition.”

“What’s your condition for Poe?”

You grinned, rolling your eyes. “His rugged good looks are getting him on that mission, I’m afraid. I couldn’t say no to that face.”

Finn laughed at that. “So it’s really happening. We’re going.”

“We’re going. I…I’m kind of glad, actually. It’ll be nice to have you two along for the ride. One…last adventure. All of us together.”

Finn opened his arms, hugging you tightly. You rested your face against his strong chest, relishing the warmth, the moment between you. Teacher and student, but more importantly, friends. “Thank you. For this. For believing in me.”

“No, thank you. We’re gonna need all the Jedi we can get…”

You returned to Poe after, his eyes watching you for a long moment. You sat down on the log, side pressed to his. He wrapped an arm around you, resting his head against yours.

“Are we still not talking?” He dared to ask.

You chuckled a little. “I’m coming around on the idea.”

“Of what, talking to your boyfriend, or letting him come on your dangerous, galaxy-saving mission tomorrow?”

“Perhaps both.” You let out a breath. “Just had a conversation with my ex. He said he thinks we’re good together. He gave me his saber, to give to Finn.”

“The green one.”

“The green one.” You agreed.

“Mmm.” Poe nodded, turning his head to press a long kiss to your hairline, a hand ghosting over the crest of your wings. “Well, he and I will have to agree on that. I also think we’re pretty good together.”

You laughed. “Well, I’d hope so, at this point. He also said you’re one hell of a pilot. So there’s that.”

His eyes widened. “Luke Skywalker just told you he thinks I’m a good pilot.”

“He did, yeah.” You chuckled, kissing his cheek. “Anyone with eyes knows that, Poe. I happen to think you’re the best, but…I might be a little biased.”

You could feel it then, sitting right at the tip of his tongue. The L word. You knew he wanted to say it. Knew he’d practiced. Knew he was holding onto it for just the right moment. You could feel it there, lingering, hovering unsaid. Like all those times he’d dreamed of kissing you before you finally collided.

You turned your face, pulling him in for a long, sweet kiss, meeting his gaze, peering straight into his soul, he was sure. Sometimes, when you looked at him like that, it was like you were looking straight through him, at every thought floating around his mind.

You nodded, thumb grazing over the spot just beneath that little scar on his cheekbone. “I know.”

Your Dying Decree

In the morning, you woke in Poe’s arms. He was still sleeping, head tucked into the crook of your neck, curls tousled, tickling your skin. His breaths were long and slow, eyes closed, thick eyelashes resting against those pretty cheekbones.

He was so handsome, your pilot.

And yet, looking at him, you couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to slip out now, leave him where it was safe. Well, relatively safer. There was no safe place in the galaxy for members of the Resistance now.

His arms curled tighter around you and he hummed, those warm brown eyes opening.

He chuckled, searching your face. “I kinda thought you’d be gone by now.”

“I thought about it.” You admitted, voice no more than a whisper.

“I know you did.” He smirked, peppering kisses up your neck, trailing to your lips, where he hovered for a moment, eyes soft, like he was memorizing every detail, just like this. “Just can’t get enough of me, huh?”

You giggled, rolling your eyes before pulling him into a kiss. “That and I knew you’d never forgive me if I left without you.”

Poe nuzzled his nose to yours, kissing your lips one last time before sitting up out of the bed, getting dressed. Your fingers hovered over the options at your disposal before settling on a black tunic, black pants. You were pulling a page from Luke’s book.

You carefully slipped your wings through the opening, securing everything in place and then pulling on your belts, equipping your saber. You braided the front of your hair back, out of the way, and then turned to find Poe staring, eyes raking down your form. He smiled to himself, then met your gaze, stepping forward to collect you in his arms.

“Looking very regal today, Princess.”

“Looking very…piratey today, pilot.” You said, smoothing your hands over the fabric of that shirt of his. Your fingers trailed down the buttons, or lack thereof. “So did it come like this or did you take them off yourself?”

He laughed loudly, cheeks reddening. “What, you don’t like it?”

“No, I never said that.” You said, a hand raising to his cheek. “You’re avoiding the question, Dameron.”

“They might have fallen off at some point, yeah.”

“Was a pair of scissors involved?”

He chuckled. “Alright, I can throw on a scarf if you’re so worried about it.”

“You might need one anyway, we are headed to the desert.” You told him, tucking a curl behind his ear.

The two of you gathered your things and walked out of the room, meeting Rey and Finn in the hallway, all dressed as well. You gave the two of them a nervous smile. The four of you met with Chewie, Threepio, and BB-8 in the hangar. Leia was standing there, a wistful look on her face. She could tell it was coming, the end. You were sure it brought back memories, sending the four of you off like this.

You walked over her, hugging her one last time. Her arms wrapped around you tight, a hand cradling your head. Your best friend. Your sister. Your General.

“May the Force be with You, Princess.” She said, eyes twinkling.

“And with us all.” You replied, tears pricking in your eyes. 

You turned, joining the others in the Falcon. You walked into the cockpit. Chewie and Poe were hovering over the controls. Finn sitting behind Chewie. You settled into the seat behind Poe, putting a hand on his shoulder. He reached up to touch it, acknowledging your presence with warmth before getting back to the controls. Rey stood in the doorway, reaching for your hand. You gave it to her.

Chewie looked at you, roaring softly, melancholy on his voice.

“You’re right, Chewie. Just like old times.”

***

You landed on Pasaana hours later, Poe putting the Falcon down at the edge of a settlement. No, you realized. A festival. Threepio confirmed this as the six of you rounded the corner. 

“Isn’t this lucky?” Threepio asked.

“Incredibly lucky.” Poe replied, voice dry. “Keep your heads down. Chewie. First Order is always running random patrols. Let’s split up. See what the locals know.”

The group split, speaking with some of the locals who were gathered for the festival of ancestors, wearing bright, silken garments. Rey stopped to talk to a little girl, aided by Threepio to translate. After, you saw her go stiff, standing straight, eyes glazed over. You knew what that meant. Kylo was in her head.

“You find anything?” Poe asked, touching your arm.

You shook your head, motioning to Rey. “That’s not good.”

“Mmm, alright. Let’s–”

“I found the fugitives! They’re here!” A Stormtrooper announced, words warbled through a helmet.

Poe reached for his blaster. He looked to Chewie and Finn. “We gotta go.”

You grabbed Rey and the group moved quickly through the crowd, tailed by the Stormtrooper until a man in a large helmet shot him straight through the eye, ushering you into a small transport. You eyed him up, his energy familiar, but it didn’t quite click until you were all inside just who he was.

“How did you find us?” Finn asked, looking at him.

He took off his helmet and you grinned. You should have known. He always had a habit of popping up right when you needed him most. It was Lando. “Wookies stand out in a crowd.”

Chewie roared happily and hugged him.

“It’s good to see you too, pal.” He nodded at you. “Your Highness. Back in the field?”

“It’s like I never left. What are you doing here?”

“Thought you might need some help. I traveled here with Luke, trying to find Exegol. Trying to find other things, too…” Lando’s eyes wandered to the gleaming medallion around Poe’s neck.

Oh. Figured.

Lando told you about Ochi, how he and Luke had tailed his ship to Pasaana. On the horizon, you could hear that fateful sound. TIE fighters. A lot of them.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” Lando said, peeking through the blinds. “Ochi’s ship is out past Lurch Canyon. Go.”

“Thank you, General.” Poe said, Chewie bidding him goodbye after.

“Thank you, Lando.” You said, touching his arm, meeting his eyes.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

You all stepped out of the ship, running through the sand. Poe led the way to some speeders, looking a little worse for wear. You watched as he popped a panel off, reaching into the wires, twisting them with skill, precision. 

Hot-wiring, you realized. Your boyfriend was hot-wiring a speeder.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that.” You noted.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Princess.” He glanced up, a few scout troopers rounding the corner. “We gotta go!”

You flitted your wings, hopping up onto one of the speeders, settling in beside Poe and Finn, Rey and Chewie on the other. Poe steered with grace, guiding it across the desert planet as a pair of Trooper speeders trailed.

You used your saber to deflect their shots. Two of the troopers launched into the air, flying on jetpacks.

“They fly now?!” Finn asked.

Poe turned his attention ahead, determination on his brow. “They fly now!” Poe steered into a narrow valley, losing sight of them behind you. “We lose ‘em?!”

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head. Soon enough, one of them pulled ahead of you, cutting you off.

“Time to use that training, baby.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” You reached out, using the force to push hurl the Stormtrooper speeder straight into the rock in front of it, where it exploded in a burst of flame.

Finn and Poe cheered and you pulled out of the valley, meeting back up with Rey and hers. One of the troopers in the sky reemerged, shooting the engine of Rey’s speeder, causing it to explode, sending her and Chewie and BB-8 into the air. The speeder the rest of you were on went next, throwing all of you into the sand. You used the Force to cushion the landing as best as you could and you all shot at the trooper until you took out his jetpack, sending him crashing down into one of the jagged mountains.

It was only after that you seemed to notice you were slipping into a pool of pebbles. Perfectly round. A sinking field.

Poe had landed flat on his back, struggling in them, trying to swim out. “The hell is this?”

“Sinking fields! Grab onto something!”

You were up to your hips in it. You reached for Poe, watching in horror as he slipped lower and lower. “Poe? Poe!”

“(Y/N)! I love–!” His curls slipped beneath the pebbles, words swallowed up as he went under.

“Rey! Rey, I never told you–” Finn shouted, slipping under next.

You let out a cry, struggling for a few moments before surrendering to the pull, and descending down with the rest of them.

It was dark, the pebbles shifting around your body, encasing every bit of you until your legs found open air beneath you. You kicked, struggling as your body moved through, head still enveloped in total darkness. You could hear Poe’s voice beneath you, then felt his hand on your leg, arms wrapping around you as you fell into what seemed to be a cave.

He met your eyes, brushing dirt out of your face. “You alright?”

“Fine. Where are the others?”

Chewie fell beside you. Finn walked out from a cavern, and Rey walked from another, everyone accounted for, even the droids.

You shook out your wings, pebbles cascading onto the stone floors. You touched your saber, making sure it was still there, hadn’t been lost on the way down.

“Where are we?”

“In a cave of some kind.” Threepio explained.

“I thought we were goners.” Finn said, voice filled with relief.

“Me too,” Poe confessed, giving you a very loaded look, eyes searching yours, as if asking if you’d heard what he’d said before going under. 

You had. His last words to you would have been a confession of his love. Your heart broke even thinking about it. You reached for his hand, squeezing it. He squeezed back, letting out a long breath. You were okay. You both were.

“What is this place?” Rey asked. The group started poking around. Rey ignited her saber, you, yours. Poe lit his flashlight, which paled in comparison. Eventually, you found Ochi’s speeder, a bad sign. With it, Ochi’s remains.

He’d never gotten out of the cave. He’d died there, and Luke’s quest for Exegol with him.

On the ground, you spotted a knife. The energy from it was…horrible. Dark. 

You held your saber out to Poe. “Can you hold this?”

“Uhhhh, sure.” He replied, bathed in the pink light of its blade. He gingerly took the hilt of it, not daring to move it a single inch. He’d never touched a lightsaber before. Well, aside from helping you build it, of course. But holding it while it was activated was different. It felt…forbidden, almost.

You bent down and picked up the dagger, studying it. Sith Runes. Figured. It…felt like it was burning your hand. The longer you held it, the worse you felt. You tried to read it, tried to garner where it was from, what it would do, but it hurt. Badly.

You let out a pained yell and dropped it, clutching your hand like you’d been physically burned.

“Are you okay?” Rey asked with concern.

“That thing…” You pointed to the dagger. “Is made of evil. It…wow, holy fuck.”

Poe stared at you, watching as you recovered, still holding your lightsaber like it was a bomb. 

You chuckled a little, reaching for it. “Thank you. Give me that, flyboy.” You powered it down, clipping it to your belt.

He reached out and touched your arm, eyes searching your face for any signs of damage. You gave him a warm look, touching his hand.

“They are Sith Runes. I believe they are directions to the location of the Sith Wayfinder.” Threepio reported.

“Great. Where is it?” Poe asked.

“I am forbidden from translating it, I’m afraid. The Republic outlawed all Sith languages nearly a century ago. To do so would be against my programming.”

“So you know where it is, you just can’t tell us?” Finn repeated, sounding as annoyed as you all felt.

“Precisely. My apologies, Master Finn.”

“Well that’s just great.” Poe sighed, hands on his hips. “What now?”

“We need to take it with us. Find somewhere to have it translated. Maybe the answer is on Ochi’s ship.” Rey reasoned.

You nodded, but didn’t reach for the dagger. Instead, Chewie picked it up, putting it in his messenger bag. He put a hand on your shoulder, a wordless message. He would carry it for you. Your loyal Wookie. Sometimes, you weren’t sure what you would do without him.

The group continued moving, trying to find a way out of the cave. Eventually, you came across a pile of rocks, layered in front of what appeared to be an opening. Focusing, you and Rey moved the pile out of the way, sunlight streaming through the hole you created. Once you were out, you headed up onto the bluff to Ochi’s ship. Poe managed to crack it open and led the rest of you inside.

It was very clearly abandoned. There were cobwebs clinging to nearly every surface, a thick layer of dust on every shelf, panel, and surface. You each picked a corner and started looking around for anything that could be of use. BB-8 made a discovery of his own, a small droid with a large wheel and a cone-shaped face, who, once booted up, started rolling around curiously. Rey reached out for him, but he backed away, seemingly traumatized by whoever had owned him before. Probably Ochi.

“What were you going to say before?” Rey asked Finn finally. You could tell it had been eating at her.

“What?”

“In the sinking fields. You said you’d never told me something.” She pushed, looking through the shelf beside him. “What was it?”

“We can talk later.” Finn said, dropping his voice, eyes serious and vulnerable.

“When we’re not here?” Poe asked with a chuckle.

“What, you wanna finish your dying decree right here, Poe?” Finn fired back.

“Not particularly.” He muttered, deflated.

You walked over and touched his arm, slotting beside him, searching for…well, anything, really. Anything you could use. He looked at you, eyes searching once more, looking for…well, anything. A reaction to what you’d heard.

You wanted to say it. Wanted him to, but you’d known from your conversations with the other pilots, the other ladies on base, that Poe Dameron didn’t say that word. Ever. He’d never said it to someone. Not like that, at least.He’d had his share of conquests, sure, but what the two of you had was decidedly different. It would have been his last dying breath, and you respected that. You didn’t want to force him out of it just because you hadn’t all died in that sinking field. But the fact that it was on the tip of his tongue, always seemed to be, meant that what you had between the two of you was real.

But then again, the only confirmation you needed of that was the band of braided leather around your wrist, the healer’s pendant from your home planet hanging from his neck.

Instead, you wrapped an arm around his waist, thumb rubbing a circle on his hip. You gave him a loving squeeze before refocusing on the task at hand.

Rey peered out the window, her eyes widening as she spotted Kylo’s TIE fighter, speeding across the sand. “He’s here.”

“You want me with you?” You asked, reaching for the hilt of your saber.

Rey nodded and you followed her out of the ship without another hesitation. You readied your blade, watching as Rey launched herself into the air, flipping as she sliced off one wing of his TIE, sending him into a death spiral, straight into the jagged rocks.

He climbed out of the ship’s wreckage and launched himself into a duel. He slashed at Rey with hatred. With rage. With…longing. Confusion, even. He was still conflicted, that much was clear. 

You joined the fight, covering Rey’s back. Red, Blue, and Pink clashed, sabers whumming, singing as they swung through the air, colliding again and again. Kylo started his usual banter, trying to get in Rey’s head. But then he turned to you, venom on his tongue, fire in his eyes.

“And you, the so-called princess of a long-gone planet. You slept through the destruction of your home planet, gave your life for a lost cause. Who are you to come here, acting to be the authority on this war, the state of the galaxy?”

“I’m nobody. I’m just a girl. But I know right from wrong. I can feel it, like she can. You know it, too. You’re fighting it so hard. Why? To prove yourself? You’re just like my brother and it’s pathetic.” You said, saber sparking against the unstable red of his. “You have a family who loves you. A mother who would die for you. She shouldn’t still believe in you, but she does.”

Something faltered in his gaze. He opened his mouth to fire back, “Luke Skywalker–”

“Failed me, too. He left me to sleep in a fucking pod for thirty years. You don’t see me picking up with the First Order to get revenge on the galaxy for it.” You thrust your saber forward, throwing him to the ground. 

Rey used the Force to push him back, through the sand.

“REY! They got Chewie!” Finn called, motioning frantically to a transport, taking off into the air. Rey reached forward, trying to stop the transport. You reached up to help her, but the two of you still weren’t enough.

“Finn, we need you!” You called, encouraging him to help.

Nodding, Finn reached for the transport, too, his power combining with the two of yours and bringing the transport down onto the ground, its engines bursting into flames, the metal crunching with a deafening screech.

You took off at a run, wings carrying you across the desert winds, towards the transport. The ramp lowered and a cluster of Stormtroopers and Scouttroopers came out, blasters blazing. You handled them quickly, learning almost instantly that Chewie was not there. In fact, the transport was empty.

“He’s not here!” You called, flying back up to Ochi’s ship as Rey and Finn ran up into the ramp. “There must have been another transport. He’s not here.” You reported, catching your breath, wings flicking a few times before folding down again.

“Fuck. Well, what now?” Poe asked, a hand trailing down his face.

“He had the knife.” Finn added, hands on his hips, deep in thought.

“He had the knife…” Poe repeated. “And they have the Falcon.”

“Well then we’re just gonna have to go get all three.” You said, the plan unrolling itself in your mind. “Get onto that Star Destroyer and get them all back.”

Poe nodded, mulling it over himself. “Alright. I’ll plot a course. Hang onto something.”

The Legacy of Your Downfall

Poe pulled Ochi’s ship into the hangar of the Star Destroyer, parking it with precision and skill, lowering the ramp. The four of you raced out, blasters pulled, shooting at the handful of Stormtroopers that approached.

“Where do we start?” Poe asked.

“This way.” You and Rey pointed at the same time, tuning into the things you were looking for with what could only be the force.

Rey turned back to look at the droids. “You three stay here.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Threepio said, sounding relieved. You ran ahead with the others, blasting your way through halls, sneaking past droves of patrolling troopers until finally, you felt like you were being pulled in different directions. The knife was one way, Chewie was the other.

“What’s that look for?” Poe asked, searching your expression.

You pointed both ways. “The knife is down this hall. Chewie is back that way.”

“Divide and conquer?” Finn suggested. “We’ll go get Chewie, you two go get the knife and our gear.”

You nodded, giving Poe one last lingering look. His hand ran down the length of your arm, touching you until the very last second as you went your separate ways. You and Rey raced down the hall, turning a corner and finding a stockroom, where they were keeping the knife, as well as all the gear and weapons they’d found on Chewie and any other prisoners they had.

Rey slung Chewie’s bandolier across her shoulder, tucked the knife into her belt. You gave the room one final sweep before leaving, heading back towards where you’d sent the boys. Rey lingered in the hall, her eyes landing on one door in particular. You knew it couldn’t be good.

“What?”

“There’s…something else.” She said, voice soft. She took a step closer to it, then another. The door slid open and inside was a stark white room. Kylo’s you realized, when your eyes fell on something you hadn’t seen in thirty years. Vader’s helmet. Or, what was left of it, rather.

A chill ran down your spine.

“Go meet with the others. I’ll find you.”

“Rey…I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Trust me. I…I know what I’m doing.” She said, desperation at the edge of her words. “I’ll keep him distracted. Buy us time.”

You weighed the odds for a moment before nodding. “Alright. But hurry.”

She handed you Chewie’s bandolier, the knife. You hissed, tucking it away before you felt those feelings again. You ran down the hall, stopped by the scorching shock of an electrified melee weapon. At first everything hurt, and then, all at once, everything went black.

***

You came to, leaned back horizontal, arms held in the thick metal bounds of an Imperial Interrogation Chair. You groaned. It wasn’t your first time in one. But you’d been hoping the last time would be the last time you ever had the pleasure.

“Perfect timing, Your Highness.” Maddox’s voice dripped with venom as another prisoner, this one conscious. “I’ve brought another guest to join us.”

“You fuckin’ monster, I’ll kill ya!” Poe threatened, yelling out in pain when one of the Stormtroopers escorting him zapped him again. They threw him onto a second chair, both of you strung up side by side.

“Should have known it would be you. Couldn’t finish the job on Hoth, huh? Had to have a Stormtrooper fetch me for you?” You chuckled, voice deep and rolling in the back of your throat, eyes half-lidded as you stared up at your husk of an older brother.

The darkness inside Maddox had been eating at him, literally. He looked awful. Eyes yellow and ringed with dark purple bags, deep wrinkles in his sagging skin. The tips of his fingers were inky black, and behind him were the tatters of his wings, the ones you had cut off with your saber.

He slapped you. “Quiet!”

“Don’t you dare–” Poe started, quieted by another jolt of electricity.

“You thought you could hide your precious pilot from me, didn’t you, Princess? Thought you could keep him tucked away in the corners of your mind where I couldn’t see?” Maddox chided, shaking his head. “It figures that the most important person in your life would be someone so weak. So vulnerable. So…human. I will show you precisely what I felt. I will rip your wings from your back with my bare hands. But first…”

Maddox leaned forward, eyes set on Poe, concentration gleaming in those wicked eyes. Poe stirred, eyes widening as he realized what was happening. He’d been through this once before. Force Torture. And he hadn’t been a fan.

You steeled yourself against the chair, taking a deep breath and focusing. You built a shield around Poe’s mind, around yours, imagined them hovering right in front of your foreheads, blocking out the mind probe that Maddox was using, attempting to break you. To…to kill Poe.

Maddox chuckled, amusement brimming behind his frustration. “You can’t possibly shield the two of you forever. Your resolve will weaken.”

You strained, shaking your head, jaw set on edge. “Nope. I can.”

He kept pushing. You kept blocking, an invisible duel between the two of you. Literally a mind game. Why he didn’t shock you then and there and force your hand, you weren’t sure. You could tell he wanted to win. He wanted the pride that came with beating you. He wanted the reassurance that he was stronger than you. That was what it had always been about to him.

“You’re…stronger than I thought, I will give you that.” He admitted, pushing harder.

You rose to meet him. “Trained by the best, unlike you. Even with me strapped to a fucking chair, you’re still second-best.”

A bubble of rage surged and you flinched, head thrown back against the chair. You let out a pained groan, struggling to keep up your wall.

“Baby…baby, it’s okay. I’m…I’m okay. You can let me go.” Poe said, watching as Maddox dug deeper, trying to break you.

You couldn’t talk anymore, the focus it required too much to allow even the tiniest slip. You shook your head, holding up your wall despite the way it grew heavier and heavier, like pushing a snowball up a hill.

“Kill me. Let her go.” Poe begged. “Please, just…”

You shook your head, letting out a broken, “NO!”

Maddox grimaced at the force of your yell, some pain forcing its way from you to him. He recovered quickly, continuing to push until finally, the door burst open. A blaster fired directly into Maddox’s stomach, catching him off guard. He collapsed to the floor and then slid, Finn using the Force to push him back, away from the two of you.

The weight was lifted and you let out a breath, head leaning back against the chair. Poe reached for your hand, fingertips coming just short of yours.

Finn raced over, unlocking them. As soon as you were upright, you just about collapsed into Poe’s arms, tears running down your cheeks. “Don’t you ever offer your life for mine again! Ever.”

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, head tucked into your neck, voice breaking at the ends. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I thought he was gonna kill you, baby. I…I couldn’t…”

“No, he was going to kill you. Make me watch. Then he was going to kill me.” You told him, reaching up to touch his face. You pulled him in for a tearful kiss. “I…Poe…”

“I know.” He nodded, nose resting against yours. “Are you okay? We gotta get out of here.”

“I have to do something first.” You said, rising to your feet. Your wings rose up behind you, emerging from their folded form, spread to their full wingspan, proud. You used the Force to pull your saber from the pedestal on the wall, where it had been placed by the troopers that apprehended you. You ignited it, walking towards Maddox’s collapsed form.

Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and he stared up at you with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Come to finish the job?”

“Something like that.” You said, staring at him with disdain. With mourning. Mourning the brother he could have been. The bond you could have shared. The person he could have grown to be. Instead, it was a monster at your feet. Cruel, wicked, heartless and hollow.

“You killed me thirty years ago, (Y/N), when you killed the love of my life.”

“Insidia?!” You asked, incredulous. “I knew you were power-hungry, I didn’t know you were insane.”

He laughed. “You’re one to talk. You could have anyone in the galaxy. Any number of powerful Force users with which to start a powerful legacy and you settle for the likes of a human pilot. Pathetic.”

“You think power is everything. You always have. You’ve never understood love. Insidia didn’t love you. She didn’t love anyone. She wanted power, just like you. Maybe you two really were a match made in hell.” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head and spinning your saber menacingly. “You killed our parents. You killed our healers. You destroyed our home. You tried to kill me. So many times. It’s over, Maddox, Mothim, whatever name it is you want etched into the legacy of your downfall.”

“It will never be over. Not for you, not for the Resistance, not for–” You plunged your saber into his chest, watching the light leave his eyes.

You deactivated the blade, clipping it to your belt. Your wings fell once more, folded down and out of the way. You felt Poe’s hand on your shoulder, all the eyes in the room on you.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” You said.

They nodded, all of you headed towards the hangar.

“How’d you guys get out of there?” Poe asked Finn and Chewbacca.

Chewbacca roared, informing him that General Hux had been the First Order spy all along, that he’d let them go.

“What?!” Poe replied with a laugh of disbelief, shooting at a few Stormtroopers as you passed them. “I knew it!”

“No you did not!” Finn replied.

You rounded the corner into the hangar, where the Millenium Falcon was waiting in all her glory. The droids had switched ships and you all ran up the ramp and inside as Stormtroopers began to gather. Soon you knew why. Kylo Ren was standing in the hangar, saber drawn.

“Rey?”

“I need to do this. Him and me. Go with the others.” Rey said, eyes meeting yours. “Go with Poe.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“I’m not asking you to.” She assured.

You felt that tug of war again. Between what she said and what you felt was right. You could feel the light in him, however faint it was. Maybe this was finally the time she could pull the light through. Save Ben Solo.

Finally, you surrendered, following Poe and Finn into the ship, buckling into the cockpit as Poe and Chewie piloted the thing, using the exhaust to blow back Stormtroopers while Finn operated the blaster cannon.

Through the window, you used the Force to collapse a few pillars onto the gathering army of troopers, watching carefully as Rey and Kylo dueled. 

A duel of the fates.

Finally, Rey got the upper hand. Poe swung the Falcon around and you ran down the ramp, reaching a hand out to her. She latched on, swinging around the ramp’s support beam and following you onto the ship.

Poe pulled the ship out of the planet’s atmosphere and into space, jumping through hyperdrive to a safe place where you all could regroup.

“What now? We don’t know where to go.” Finn said.

Your eyes wandered to Chewie, who once again was carrying the knife in his bag. You reached for him, for it. “Let me see it.”

“(Y/N), are you sure…” Poe said, hesitant to let you touch it after the way you’d reacted the last time, the pain it had put you in. It had already been a long, traumatic day. He didn’t want to push it.

“I’m fine.” You replied, exhaustion eating at every piece of you. “I almost had it last time, I think I can get there this time. Some of my…problems just got resolved.”

He relented, watching with guarded brown eyes as you took the knife from Chewbacca. You sat on a box, wings shifting out of the way, hand wrapped around the hilt of the misshapen dagger. You closed your eyes, taking a breath, focusing on what it was, where it had come from, where it was leading you…

You were running through the trees on Endor, wings tucked under a green poncho. Leia on one side, Han and the pathfinders ahead. Kes motioned you forward and you followed, running down the route. Ewoks ran alongside. You took out Scouttroopers as you ran.

Finally, you came up on a hill, looking overhead. In the sky, the shadow of a large moon. Not a moon, no, the Death Star, silver in the daylit sky. You stared at it for a long moment.

You took a shuddering breath, finding yourself back in the cargo hold of the Falcon, surrounded by your friends. You handed Chewie the knife back.

“It’s near Endor. Deathstar wreckage.” You said. “Get in contact with the intel guys and see if they can get us a more concrete answer, but…that wayfinder is definitely there.”

“I’ll send a message.” Finn nodded, walking towards your communications console.

“You good?” Poe asked, eyes not leaving you. He sat on the box beside you and you reached for his hand as Chewie and Rey wandered off to tend to their tasks. He took your hand, fingers curling around yours and squeezing.

“Better now.”

Poe let go of your hand, pulling you into his arms instead. He held you tight, but so, so carefully, strong arms curling around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder, pressing kisses to your neck.

“I saw your dad.” You confessed, hands tracing patterns onto his back.

“My dad?”

“My vision. I was on Endor. It was brief, but…” You chuckled at the irony of it all. Of knowing his parents, of loving him. 

Poe was your anchor to this time, the one redeeming thing your thirty-year skip had given you, the only thing that began to outweigh all of the things you had lost. This love, that look in his eye, the warmth that swirled between you every time you looked at each other, every time he held you in his arms…

Poe was worth it. And he never would have been yours if you’d stayed.

“What was he doing?”

“Pathfinding,” you said through a smile.

He pulled away to meet your eyes, a hand brushing down the side of your face, carefully touching the braid there before settling on your cheek. He pulled you in for a kiss, long and tender, lips moving in rhythm with your own.

Poe rested his forehead against yours, letting out a breath before confessing. “I still forget sometimes, that you’re older than me.”

“I’ve been told I look pretty good for fifty-four.” You laughed softly.

“Very good.” He agreed, kissing you again, hands slipping lower, to your hips, pulling you a little closer. “Very, very good.”

Poe readjusted, deepening the kiss before Finn cleared his throat in the doorway, staring at the two of you, still somewhat in shock that you were together, had been for a while, that you were familiar with each other like this. The two of you hastily pulled apart to look at him.

“Beaumont got a hit. (Y/N) was right. Moon in the Endor system, big chunks of Death Star scattered on its surface.” Finn reported, the two of you listening intently, Poe’s arm still hovering around your waist. “Oh, and Chewbacca said the landing gear is kinda fucked up.”

Poe stood from the box, helping you up after him. “How fucked up?”

Hold Your Fire

The landing had been rough, to say the least. You and Rey broke the fall as best you could, but using the Force on a ship was…much more difficult when you were inside said ship, headed down, down, down onto the surface of a moon in the Endor system.

The Falcon came to a skidding crash, sliding through the grass until finally, it stopped.

“Everyone okay?” Poe called, looking around, making sure no one had gotten thrown around too much. BB-8 gave him a thumbs-up with his lighter attachment.

The group started moving around the cabin, checking things. Poe read meters, checked controls. You and Rey managed to get the ramp down and you all started the hike up the hill, cresting over the top of it, towards the raging sea.

There it was, the Death Star. Or what remained of it, at the very least. You stared for a long moment, a feeling of darkness washing over you. Your eyes traced over the shape of the wreck and goosebumps pricked up all down your arms, though you weren’t sure if it was from the sight or the cold winds.

“Wow…” Rey murmured, looking up at it. “Were you ever…?”

“On it, no. Not that one. The first one, yeah. I was boots on the ground on Endor, so Luke and I could communicate with each other through the Force. Him up there, me down here.” You said.

Rey stared at the shape of the wreck, taking the dagger from her belt and sliding it along the silhouette. It lined up perfectly, a sliding gold ruler pointing to the exact spot. That was it. The spot where the wayfinder was hidden.

Horses galloped in the distance behind you. You all turned, weapons drawn. Poe held out his blaster as a group of scavengers rode their steeds towards you, stopping a safe distance away.

“Rough landing.” The woman leading the pack said. She had a head of gorgeous curls, a pair of goggles tucked along the top of her face, dressed all in silken green. Almost…Mariposan. Almost.

“I’ve seen worse.” Poe countered, a hand extended in front of you, protective, weapon still drawn.

“I’ve seen better.” She said. “Are you Resistance?”

“That depends.” Poe answered, untrusting.

Her eyes fell on you, gaze sliding down the length of your wings, and something in her gaze softened. “Princess…”

“You…know me?”

“Know of you. We received a transmission from some Resistance Scouts, that you were looking for this place. That you’re the last hope.”

“We need to get out to that wreck. There’s something inside there we need.” Rey told her.

“I can take you there by water.”

“You seen the water?” Finn asked.

“Not now. Too dangerous. We can go first light tomorrow.” The woman said.

“We need to go now. We don’t have the time.” Rey insisted.

“Or the choice.” Poe said, turning towards her and the rest of her crew. “Let’s get that ship fixed. Do you have any parts?”

“Some. I’m Jannah.”

“I’m Poe.” He introduced, leading the rest of you back towards the Falcon’s resting place.

Rey stared back at the wreckage, lingering.

You put a hand on her arm. “They’re right. We’re gonna need a way off this rock.”

She nodded, following reluctantly.

Once you got back inside the ship, Poe and the others started repairs, pulling open panels and reaching inside. He had a screwdriver held in his mouth while he worked. You noticed then, finally, that there was a wrap around his bicep. He stopped, holding his arm and hissing in pain.

“When did this happen?” You asked, eyes wide, pulling him away from his work.

“Got shot on the Star Destroyer. It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

“I know you have. Let me see.”

“We don’t have time.”

“Poe.” You said sternly. “It’ll only take me a second.”

He exhaled a breath, letting you pull him from the panel, passing the screwdriver to Chewie. You stepped into a hallway, pushing him onto a box, forcing him to sit. With careful fingers, you untied the scrap of fabric.

He winced, eyes locked on you and your gentle movements. “You should save your strength, Princess. You’ll need it.”

You shook your head, meeting his eyes as you rolled up his sleeve, the blaster hole singed into the fabric. “I need you at your best too, flyboy. I can tell it hurts.”

“You can feel it?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, hand hovering over the injury. “We’re connected, you and I. When you hurt, I hurt.”

“Through the Force? But I’m not…”

“You don’t have to be for me to…tune in. I’m always tuned into you, more or less. Have been for…” You chuckled. “A lot longer than we’ve been seeing each other, even.”

He smiled softly at that, eyes glimmering in the dim light. A teasing smirk took up residence on his soft lips, eyebrow quirked up at your admission. “Youuuu~ had a crush on me.”

“I did. I do, actually. Is that alright with you, Commander Dameron?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll let it slide, Your Highness,” he said, watching as you zoned out, taking a deep breath before pushing life energy from yourself to the blaster wound on his arm. The pain ebbed instantly, the wound fading away, replaced with new skin. He sighed, reaching for your hand, playing with your fingers in his. “You are…somethin’ else, you know that?”

“So you’ve said.” You grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips, a quick one. He leaned in after you pulled away, lips chasing yours. You smirked at him. “Who has the crush now?”

“Oh, Princess, I’ve always had a crush on you…” He murmured. Poe touched his arm, squeezing the spot clinically, but there was no pain there, just smooth skin in place of the gaping wound that had been causing him so much pain for the last few hours.

“Back to work?”

“Yeah.” Poe nodded, walking back over to the panel he’d been working on, where Chewie had all but wrapped it up.

BB-8 rolled up the ramp and into the ship, beeping at Poe, telling him he couldn’t find Rey.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen her?”

You knew immediately what that meant. You raced down the ramp, out into the grass, using your wings to flit up the hill, watching as Rey took a skimmer onto the raging waters, struggling to get past each wave.

“REY!” You called out to her, but your words were swallowed up by the winds. “Fuck.”

“We have to go after her.” Finn said once he and Poe caught up, Jannah just behind them on her horse. “Can you fly across?”

“On wind like this, no way, pal.” Poe said, arms crossed, hand grabbing your hip like he was afraid you’d try. “Her wings aren’t made for a gap like this.”

“I’d be a fly on a windshield. Or…sharp rocks, in this case.” You said, looking down at the jagged shore beneath you.

“I need to get over there.” Finn said, determined.

You shook your head. “No, we can’t.” You watched as Kylo’s TIE Fighter landed on the wreckage, your stomach sinking. “Oh, that’s just great.”

“We have to go help her!” Finn said again.

“We can’t! Whatever she’s meant to do out there…” You reached, the Force calling to you. This was it. Her final stand against him. Whatever was going to happen out there, she needed to do it alone. “This is her fight. Her and Kylo.”

Finn let out a frustrated sigh, meeting your eyes. You knew he could feel it, too. You were right. They needed to get through this themselves. There was no way for you to get across the gap anyway.

And so, you waited.

You watched as red and blue clashed, watching, feeling, reaching through the Force, trying to feel exactly what was going on out there.

The TIE fighter took off. Then, the skimmer came back. You reached for your saber when you saw who it was coming out of it. It wasn’t Rey in the skimmer. It was Kylo.

Poe raised his blaster as soon as he saw him, Finn reaching for his saber as well. 

Kylo approached slowly. He…didn’t have his saber, you realized. You stared at him with wide eyes as he pulled himself up the cliff, looking at all of you with vulnerable eyes, a saber hole in his black tunic.

Rey had healed him, you realized, eyebrows furrowing.

You looked him over, eyes sweeping and critical, and put a hand on Poe’s blaster, lowering it.

“Hold your fire.” You said, voice quiet, eyes still locked on Kylo’s dark, looming figure.

“Hold my–Baby, that’s Kylo Ren!”

You looked back at Poe, daring to take your eyes off of the former Sith for a few moments. His expression softened once he saw yours. You weren’t worried at all. Not a hint of fear in those eyes. He trusted you, and if you thought it was okay, then maybe…

“Ben, right?” You asked, turning back to look at him.

He smiled, tentative and unsure, eyes searching each of you for malice, for distrust. There was none. At least, not in your eyes. Finn and Poe looked like they still needed to be convinced. “Ben. Ben…Solo.”

You searched him for the heavy darkness that had burdened his soul for so long, but came up empty. Whatever had happened out there, with Rey, had left him changed. Had healed him in more ways than one.

“Is Rey okay?” Finn asked, gaze hardened.

Ben nodded. “Took my TIE Fighter. Intends to go to Exegol alone. I can help you get in touch with her, breach its communications.”

You nodded. “Alright. You…you can come with us, but…don’t be surprised if some of the folks on base don’t take too kindly to the sight of you. We’ll have to warn them you’re coming so they don’t…shoot you on sight.”

He scoffed, nodding in agreement. “I don’t think I could blame them for that after everything. But…I owe you all. I want to help, before it’s too late.”

March of the Resistance

The trip back to Ajan Kloss was…tense. Ben sat at the sabacc table, staring at the checkered tiles. Poe and Chewbacca were in the cockpit, piloting you all back to safety. Finn stood with you against the wall, watching Ben, waiting for him to say something.

You’d already spoken to Leia, warned her. She’d felt it, though. She knew you were bringing her son back to her.

He searched you, you could felt him poking around your energy with the Force, bristling slightly.

“Sorry. Force of habit.” He retracted immediately, staring at his hands, shaking with worry.

“It’s…alright. You can ask if you have questions.”

“You knew my father.” He blurted, eyes meeting yours. “My mother. You’re…they took me to your grave when I was young. Your…pod.”

“My pod…” You agreed, nodding slowly. “I did know them. I was good friends with them. Your mother was my best friend. Basically a sister to me. In another life, I would have been your aunt.”

He nodded, listening. He swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes glossy. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You told him, voice gentle and sincere. You let out a sigh. “But I’m not the only one you’re going to need to apologize to.”

Ben nodded, solemn. He didn’t reply after that.

Finn watched the interaction with guarded eyes. You couldn’t imagine how he was feeling now, a former Stormtrooper standing in front of Kylo Ren. Redeemed or not, there had to be a lot going on in his head. You put a hand on Finn’s arm, heading towards the cockpit.

“How is he…?” Poe murmured, looking back to meet your eyes.

“Not hellbent on murderous destruction anymore. Any hits from Rey?”

“Yeah, she’s headed back, too. She’ll beat us there by a handful of minutes.” Poe said. 

He reached for your hand and you gave it to him, letting him squeeze it for comfort. You were both okay, for now. But the final fight was coming. Like a tidal wave headed straight for the beach.

***

You landed in pandemonium, people rushing every which way around the base. Rey had beat you there, and was waiting when the Falcon landed, a little worse for wear, but fine otherwise.

Finn walked out of the ship first, hugging Rey tightly, the two of them talking to each other about something. You and Poe walked out next. The gathered Resistance members waiting in bated breath until, finally, Ben walked out, dressed all in black, saber-less. They all murmured, watching his every move.

As odd as it was, it was kind of nice to have them whisper about someone else for a change.

Leia stepped forward, slow, tentative. She hadn’t seen him in person in…years. From a distance, sure, but not face to face like this. The tension was palpable, the Force hanging between them nearly enough to throw you from your feet.

Poe put a hand on your arm, watching as Kylo Ren himself fell to his knees in front of his mother, tears streaming from his eyes. She knelt beside him, the two of them murmuring to each other, reconciling. It felt wrong to watch, so you stepped away, helping the others round up equipment.

Not long after, a meeting was called in the hangar, the whole Resistance gathered around to listen to the intel from Ben. He had been on Exegol, talked to the Emperor. He knew what was waiting for you there, where you all had to go, what had to be done to stop Palpatine once and for all.

You felt that sinking feeling in your chest, the one you’d gotten before the fight with Insidia. You tried to shake it off, but you knew what it meant. You…might not make it out of this one.

Poe and Finn pitched their plan to the others, discussing the ground attack on the Star Destroyers, the plot to block their communications, prevent them from taking off.

“We have friends out there. They’ll come if they know there’s hope.” Poe insisted, fire in his eyes, a hand resting on his belt. “The First Order wins by making us think we’re alone.” He met your eyes. “But we’re not alone. Good people will fight if we lead them.”

You nodded, listening to the rest of their speech, Finn and Poe, calling the shots. It was nice. Your boys. Following in the footsteps of those before you. Poe caught your gaze, tilting his head as if to say ‘your turn.’

You took a breath, gathering your thoughts. You had many. You squeezed Rey’s hand, which had been in yours for the last several minutes, Soren standing on your other side, Laesynda beside him. Your family. Your growing pack of Jedi.

“I didn’t expect to survive the first war. A lot of us didn’t. Good people gave their lives for this cause. Thirty years ago, mere months ago…We have been fighting this battle for a generation. I only got a taste of that peace. Two years of it. I’ve seen it and…I know the end. I didn’t expect to disappear, to come back in the midst of another war. But…I am honored to stand among you, my brothers and sisters, my nephew…to call you my family and fight by your side. I am with you to the bitter end. We will end this war, bring peace to the galaxy, destroy Palpatine, permanently this time. I want each and every single one of you to live in that peace, to plant the seeds of your new lives, and watch them grow in a world free of the First Order’s tyranny. May the Force be with each of you today.”

“And with us all.” Laesynda finished, her hand on your shoulder, a proud look in her eye. The group dismissed, heading their separate directions, running and working in tandem to prepare for the fight ahead.

You turned to your Jedi. Your team. Rey, Finn, Soren…Ben.

“I’m going with ground support.” Finn said. “They need me.”

“I know they do. And they’re lucky to have you.” You said, nodding. “Soren?”

“Stay here?” He asked, expecting the same answer from his Jedi Master, but instead, you shook your head.

“Nope. You’re coming with us. You’re ready now. I know you are. You’ve got us with you. We need you now more than ever.” You smiled, gently. “My Padawan.”

He nodded, determined, eyes sparkling with that Rebel moxie. He was your blood after all.

“I’ll meet you all at the Falcon. We’re wheels-up in thirty.”

Rey and Ben nodded, looking at each other, at your nephew. You left them for a moment, looking for Laesynda, who was face to face with a man around her age, maybe a hair older. He had Soren’s nose. Ah, your brother-in-law. He’d finally come around, right when you all needed him most.

You’d meet up with her in a few minutes, then.

You watched as the pilots ran around, dusting off their ships, tossing helmets to each other, mechanics rushing to get everything set for takeoff. You watched as Aspen ran past, her black hair in a braid. Snap, Jessika, Karé, running past, towards the hangar where Black Squadron’s X-Wings were.

BB-8 bumped into your leg, bobbling slightly as he looked up at you, telling you Poe was in the hangar, getting ready for take-off.

“How soon?”

He replied that it would be about fifteen minutes. You nodded, thinking.

“Can you record something for me, Bee? Something important?”

He nodded, rolling off somewhere private with you. 

You knelt down to his level and sighed, preparing yet another speech. “Hey, flyboy. It’s uh, it’s me. If you’re seeing this…something bad happened to me on Exegol. And I’m…really sorry. For everything. For all of it. For leaving you. I know you don’t go throwing the L word around, and that’s okay, but…I love you, too, for the record. I heard what you said on Pasaana. I’ve felt it at the edges of your mind. I love you, too. I have for…a long time. You’re leaving soon, so I’m going to go say goodbye to you for real. But…I wanted you to have this, too, just in case. Every…every moment I’ve been by your side has been a moment well spent, and I wouldn’t trade a single one for all the credits in the galaxy. I hope you’re…safe and happy and well. I hope you live to be super, super old, all wrinkly and gray, and reminisce on the good old days, when you used to hang out with a princess. And if I don’t make it, I want you to fall in love again. To find someone else to give your heart to. I could never be mad at you for that.”

You paused, closing your eyes as you gazed into BB-8’s camera. “I love you, Poe Dameron. I hope you have a really great, peaceful life with this little droid by your side.”

BB-8 beeped at you, telling you that he was not, in fact, little, and you laughed a little, standing up and brusing yourself off.

“I know, I know. Now let’s go find him. I gotta say goodbye.”

You walked to the hangar beside BB-8 as he rolled along. Poe was looking around, somewhat frantic until he saw his little droid, you accompanying him, your strides long and graceful, wings drifting behind you magnificently.

“Mmmm, I do love that flight suit, flyboy.” You said, eyes roaming his figure in the orange fabric.

“There you are, Princess, I was getting ready for wheels-up in here and I couldn’t find my girl or my droid.” He put his hands on your arms, looking you over. “You okay? How you feeling?”

You nodded, meeting his eyes, bravery blossoming in your chest. “Good. I’m good. How are you, Commander?”

“Ready to get this shit over with.” He let out a tired breath, hands wandering from your arms to your hips, pulling you into his chest. “We’re gonna be okay, alright? You and I? I’ll see you after. Right here. Don’t be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You said, voice soft, so much hidden in your words. “You be careful out there. Come back to me in one piece.”

He pulled away to look at you, smirking as his lips flicked down to your lips. “Of course, your Highness.”

He surged forward and kissed you, a long, passionate, earth-shattering kiss, tongue rolling over yours, arms tight around your waist. And then he pulled away, meeting your eyes again.

You stood there for a long moment, his arms around you. Your fingers drifted down to the healer’s pendant, glimmering in the dim light. He grabbed your hand, eyes searching yours, eyebrows knitted together, the heat palpable. The tension. The fear.

You pressed one last, quick kiss to his lips and turned to leave, glancing back at him. “See you later, Poe.”

As you took a few steps towards the edge of the hangar, he called out for you. “Hey, wait! I…”

You met his eyes, heart racing. You could feel it again, at the edge of his mind, the tip of his tongue.

He licked his lips. Swallowed. Then said, “I love you.”

Your jaw dropped, hand rising to your face as you let out a gasp. He’d said it. He’d actually kriffin’ said it.

“P-Poe…”

“I love you, (Y/N). I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

You ran back into his arms with new fervor, kissing his lips like it was the last thing you’d ever do. He laughed into your mouth, tears welling in his eyes as he looked you over, searching your face, your eyes, almost wondering if he’d actually said it out loud this time.

You smiled, reaching up to readjust his curls. “I love you, too.”

He couldn’t keep the grin off of his face as he asked, “You’re not just sayin’ that?”

“No, I mean it. I…I love you, Poe Dameron. Don’t get yourself blown up out there.”

He chuckled, kissing you one last time. “I’ll try, sweetheart.”

Eyes on the Jedi

You stood in the Falcon, watching as Chewie and Lando piloted. Like old times. You shook with every movement, watching out the windshield, dread growing in your stomach. First, you all would go distract Palpatine. Then, the fleet would come, taking on the army of Star Destroyers.

You had an earpiece in your ear, listening as the pilots spoke to each other. Listening to Poe’s voice as much as you could stomach to.

“Black Leader to Falcon, how are we looking, General Calrissian?”

“Smooth and steady, Black Leader. The Jedi are ready.”

“How’s the Princess?”

Lando glanced back at you, chuckling softly. “Princess is good.”

“Good, good, glad to hear it. Let us know once you drop them off.” Poe said, voice walking that line between professional and concerned.

“Will do, Commander.”

You looked to the others, putting a hand on Soren’s arm, wings tensing. He looked nervous, sure, but…he also looked determined. Brave. Ready for the fight that lied ahead, no matter how terrifying.

Finally, Lando pulled the Falcon up to the mouth of the cave. A strange swirl of nostalgia fluttered around your heart as you looked at it, a sinking, bitter feeling in your core. Insidia’s laugh echoed across your mind one last time. Luke’s voice pushed it out.

I’m with you, Princess. Then and now. You’re not alone.

You nodded, eyes closing. You weren’t alone. You had Rey. Soren. Ben. Finn was out there, too. Poe. Lando and Chewie. Leia. You had friends and allies, new and old, standing with you as you stepped off of the Falcon and into immediate danger, saber igniting, lighting the dark with magenta.

Soren lit his saber as well, standing by your side, an extension of yourself in more ways than one. Your Padawan, your nephew, wielding your original saber, the one you had been wielding on your last day of your old life. The one he and mother had journeyed so far to find.

Rey and Ben led the way, Ben more familiar with this place since he had been there. You could feel the energy already, dark and all-consuming. A cacophonous choir of voices echoing off the walls, chanting. Cultists, you realized. Perhaps some of the same souls Insidia had rallied with the first time.

Among them, the Knights of Ren.

You shivered, finally getting a good look at them. You’d never seen them all face to face, or…face to mask, but they were here, looming like shadows, weapons giving off an eerie, unsettling red light.

You looked to Rey and Ben, telling them silently to move forward, that you and Soren would handle these guys. They nodded, running off while you and Soren launched into battle, swinging your sabers against the onslaught of weapons. There were six of them, two of you, but you’d trained him well, and had been training yourself. Your movements were graceful and precise, quick and fluid, using your wings in tandem with your body, using them to get leverage.

You rotated around Soren, working together, defending each other, attacking the knights as a unit. Nephew and Aunt. Pawadan and Jedi, like all those who had come before you.

You leaped over Soren, tucking your legs in for more momentum as you crashed down onto the last knight, slashing through his armor with one final blow.

Breathing heavy, you looked to Soren, searching him for any sign of injury. There was none. He was fine. He gave you a soft, reassuring smile and you nodded, leading him back to the chamber where Palpatine was, a cult of hooded figures around the edge of the large room.

He had Ben and Rey in a chokehold of Force energy, sapping them with his withered hands, draining the very life from them.

“NO!” You roared, hands thrown forward. A wave of invisible energy crashed into him, shocking him long enough to drop them onto the cold stone ground.

“Ah…I was wondering when you’d show up, Princess. How kind of you to join us…your original, let’s say…sacrifice, was enough to revive me in the first place. Insidia gave her life. You gave yours. Two lives to restore the one, true Emperor.”

“She tried, but she couldn’t kill me.” You said, helping Rey to her feet, Ben.

“Which is why it is a half-life I live. But not for long…”

He reached forward, trying to drain the life from you next, but you stood strong, blocking him. You heard the sounds of ships overhead, out above the cave’s opening. Explosions. The sound of X-Wings crashing, ships being destroyed. Star Destroyers blasting.

“Your love makes you weak.” Palpatine scolded, energy scathing the edges of yours, finally reaching. Taking. You dropped to your knees as the power flowed from you, a horrible numbness eating at the ends of your limbs, tingling in your fingers and toes.

“(Y/N)!” Rey called out as you sprawled to the floor.

Palpatine stopped, his withered flesh repairing itself from your energy. He let out a triumphant laugh, reaching up towards the sky, lightning flying from his fingertips, up at the Resistance ships.

At Poe.

Everything ached, chest burning. You had to get up. You knew you had to. But you just didn’t have the strength. Ben and Soren swung at Palpatine, but he threw them back as though they were weightless.

“(Y/N), please. I can’t…” Rey said, broken. “I can’t do this alone.”

“You’re not alone.” Luke’s voice said as his Force Ghost appeared beside the both of you.

“Help you, we will.” Yoda added, appearing beside Luke. Then Obi-Wan, who met your eyes with a wink. Anakin…All the great Jedi of old, gathered around you. The light rising to meet the dark.

“Get up, Princess. That’s not a request.” Luke goaded, lending you his strength. His face shifted to his younger form, the way he’d looked the last time you’d fought side by side.

“You sound like Han.” You grumbled, scraping yourself off of the cold, hard ground, warmth returning to your fingers. You ignited your saber, Soren and Ben returning to the fight alongside the army of spirits summoned by the Force. The light of the Jedi, the dark of the Sith, colliding one last time as Palpatine’s cultists flooded the arena.

It was all out war. Sabers slinging every which way, light bouncing off of the walls, Palpatine’s lightning coming to a stop as he was rushed by an onslaught of Jedi, his cultists dropping off one by one, dispatched quickly. It seemed he had sapped their strength, too, using their loyalty to make himself stronger. He hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Palpatine shot lightning at you, but Soren locked sabers with you, both of you pushing the lightning back onto him, weakening him just enough.

Rey and Ben united, using their combined power to drain the Emperor, dispersing the energy back into the Force, to restore balance.

“It’s…impossible…” He groaned, thrashing about as they took it back from him, every last ounce of stolen power.

“No. It’s not.” You said, standing with the two of them, helping them finish the job, draining and draining and draining until there was nothing left. Not even a body. Dissolved entirely into the Force.

There was a great rush of power after, an explosion of it, rushing out of the cave. You looked up to find Star Destroyers nose-diving out of the sky. The four of you shared a moment of relief, the rush of victory, as the Force Ghosts dissipated around you once more.

You met Luke’s eyes, a promise. You didn’t need him anymore. But someday, if you ever did, you knew he’d be there for you. Then, he vanished, too.

Rey called for Lando, hoping the Falcon was okay, but all you could think about was Poe. At some point, your earpiece had fallen out. You had no way to check on him, other than looking up, reaching with the Force. You were nearly too frazzled to find his energy up there, but…it was. You breathed in relief. He was okay.

The Falcon swept down to get you as the cave started to rumble, unstable from the blast of energy. You all climbed on board, the rest of the ground crew was there. Rey rushed to Finn, hugging him tightly. You met up with Jannah, nodding at her and acknowledging the rest of them before sliding into the cockpit, putting on a headset just in time to catch:

“Do we have any eyes on the Jedi? That cave is gonna blow.” Poe said, voice a little pitchy over the comms.

“Just Finn, Commander.” One of the other pilots said before you could interject. “He’s on board the Falcon.”

Poe swallowed, voice getting thicker. “This is Black Leader. I repeat, do we have any eyes on the Princess and the rest of the Jedi?”

You lowered the microphone, tapping into the comms. “Reading you loud and clear, Black Leader. The Princess and the rest of the Jedi are on board the Falcon, headed home.”

You heard the way his voice hitched, the relieved little sob that left his mouth. He cleared his throat, trying to sound professional as he replied, “G-Glad to hear it. We’ll see you at home, Princess.”

Lando smiled at you, steering the Falcon away from the cave and into hyperspace, into safety. “You two remind me a whole lot of people we know.”

“I know.” You chuckled. “A pilot and a princess, who would have thought?”

“You’re good together. When I saw you at the gala together that night, I thought you were definitely already together. That look in his eye…watching you use that Princess super-power of yours up close.” Lando confessed, eyes glimmering. “He’s good for you. Enjoy it.”

“Oh, I will. This time…I’m not going anywhere.”

The Pilot, the Prince

The Falcon came down smoothly at the edge of camp. Vehicles touched down left and right, Resistance members rushing out of them and into each other’s arms, celebrating a victory hard-won. You counted heads, looked for faces.

Aspen. Beaumont. Some of the rookies. No Black Squadron yet.

You kept searching faces, counting heads. Soren ran to Laesynda and the man you assumed was her husband. Beside him, your droid. Radia. She’d…been with him all along.

You looked for Poe’s X-Wing, but didn’t see it yet, so while the others on the Falcon dispersed, you ran to your sister, holding her in your arms, burying your face in her shoulder. She laughed, smiling brightly, pulling away to look at you and Soren. Both had returned to her. Both were fine. You could feel her settle as the weight of the galaxy eased off of her shoulders.

“(Y/N)...this is my husband. Marc. Marc, this is my sister.”

He offered his hand. He had dark brown hair, a dark beard, kind eyes. He was wearing a leather jacket and gloves, a blaster holstered to his belt. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Princess. Thank you for taking care of our son.”

“Of course. It’s nice to meet you, too. I…you…” You glanced down at Radia, who was beeping and whirring excitedly.

“I borrowed her. Hope you don’t mind. She’s a great companion.”

You knelt down, wrapping your arms around your old friend, resting your head against the cool metal of her panels. She had been painted a little, it seemed, but kept up well.

“Thank you. For taking care of her.” You told Laesynda, meeting her eyes, then Marc’s. “I thought I’d never see her again.”

“I’d never let anything happen to her.” Laesynda promised. “She carries all our memories with her. All of my memories of you. I could never part with those.”

“Well, now,” you smiled, “we get to make new ones.”

The X-Wings finally arrived, the people on the ground erupting into cheers. You locked eyes on Poe’s X-Wing, on BB-8 in his compartment in the back, wobbling as he looked around, took it all in. The top of the cockpit popped open and Poe began to climb out.

“I gotta go.”

“Go get him, Princess.” Laesynda encouraged, warmth in her eyes.

You took off, fluttering your wings before flying right over, past the celebrating Rebels, straight into Poe’s waiting arms, the force of it nearly enough to tackle him to the grass.

He laughed, spinning you around and around, peppering kisses all over your face before finally setting you in front of him, eyes softening as he took you in. His Jedi. His Princess. Alive and unharmed.

Your hand rose to his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin, the other adjusting his curls, mussed up from his helmet.

“Hey.” He murmured.

“Hey yourself.” You replied, leaning up to press a tender kiss to his lips. He reciprocated immediately, hands securing themselves around your waist, tugging you closer to him as he deepened the kiss, tongue rolling into your mouth. You melted against him, breath hitching at his touch.

“Thought I lost you there for a second…” He confessed, nose brushing yours as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “That lightning…I thought…I felt…”

“I know.” You nodded, kissing him again, featherlight. “But I’m okay. We all are.”

“I love you.” He said again, breaths ragged, holding you close, a hand cradling your head. “I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you, too.” You whispered, kissing his cheek, just in front of his ear. “My daring pilot.”

“Your trigger-happy flyboy.”

“Wouldn’t have him any other way.” You said, finally pulling away enough to let Rey and Finn into your circle. The four of you held each other, heads leaning together, arms around each other as you let the peace settle. The weight of the galaxy finally easing up off of your shoulders.

***

It only made sense that after a victory like that would come a party.

Poe mingled with just about every person on the base, congratulating people, shaking hands, flashing that prettyboy smile. He glanced back at you every handful of minutes, monitoring. You were sitting with Leia and Lando and Chewie, the last remaining members of your original group, enjoying the sounds of celebration.

“You were hungover for four days after the last war.” Leia recalled, laughing as she sipped from her glass.

“Oh I remember. Or…don’t remember. I guess that’s the whole point.” You chuckled. “Those little teddy bears knew how to party.”

Lando laughed at that. “So did you, Princess.”

“Alright, alright.” You chuckled. “I had a reputation for a reason.”

A few people came up to you, offering congratulations and well-wishes. You spoke with them, wishing them the best of luck, wherever they were headed.

Eventually, Poe wandered back to you, sitting on the log beside you. He took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. Gently, he pulled your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, the fire twinkling in his warm eyes.

“Can I talk to you about something? Alone?”

You smiled, following him away from the heat and noise of the party and out into the cool night air. Your clearing. Your meditating spot. It was…lit with strings of lights, glowing and warm. Someone had come out there and decorated it.

“What’s all this…?”

“Called in some favors.” Poe admitted, letting out a nervous chuckle. “I hope you don’t mind. I guess I should have asked first…”

“No, it’s…beautiful, Poe.” You reassured him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“I, uh…guess we’ve never really talked about what happens now. Between…us. What are your plans, now that it’s all over?”

“Plans?” You thought, eyes drifting over the lights. “Laesynda and I have discussed going back to Mariposas. Rebuilding. There are a lot of folks displaced from this war, I’d like to give them a place where they can be safe. Besides, I think Rey and I should probably start up a Jedi Temple. There are a few spots there that would be perfect for one. That’s…those are my plans. What are yours?”

“So, actually, about that…I was wondering if, uh…” He took a breath, those dark eyelashes fluttering shut, brows furrowing.

You waited, head tilting as he found his words. “If…?”

“It’s okay if you say no.” He prefaced, a hand out in warning, the other in his pocket.

“Can’t say no if you never ask, flyboy.”

Poe stared at you. He took a step closer, a hand settling on your hip, met your eyes… “I…was wondering if…you’d marry me, (Y/N).”

Your jaw dropped, heart pounding, searching his eyes for the edges of the joke, but…it wasn’t. It wasn’t a joke to him. He was serious.

His hand emerged from his pocket, his mother’s ring taken off the chain he’d worn it on for so long, pinched carefully between his fingers as he waited. After a long moment, he hesitated, eyes falling to the ground, doubt swirling. “It’s too soon, isn’t it? It’s okay, I just–”

“Poe.” You said, drawing his attention back to you, eyes watering. “You’d…you’d be a prince, you know. There’s a lot of responsibility that comes with that. Rebuilding a planet.”

“Yeah, well…my schedule just cleared up, so…” He said, still tense, but that humor of his starting to peek through again.

“You’re serious.”

“Never been more serious about anything in my life.”

You let out a shudder of a sigh, reaching forward and taking his face in your hands. Kissing him passionately, a hand buried in his curls, the other fondly caressing the scar on his cheekbone.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Poe Dameron. I…Yes.”

He took your hand in his, gingerly sliding the ring onto your finger, pretending to be surprised that it fit perfectly, like he hadn’t been putting it on you while you were sleeping. “Perfect fit.”

“Yeah, it is.” You nodded, pulling him by the collar of his shirt into another kiss, the ring gleaming on your finger under the warm lights. This time, he kissed back, hungrily, mouth devouring your own, hands firm on your tips, pulling you against him. You melted against his touch, letting a quiet moan into his mouth as his fingertips skimmed the smooth tissue of your wing.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, breaths ragged, eyes searching your face. “I, uh…Bee showed me your video. When it was bad out there. The lightning…”

“Oh. Poe. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He thought I was gonna die, so…I just…you meant it, huh? You thought you wouldn’t…”

“Yeah.” You admitted. “Being a Jedi isn’t exactly a stable gig. Neither is being a pilot. Just wanted to…cover my bases.”

He nodded, hands on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into your hipbones. “I do disagree with you on one thing.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Yeah. I…I’m never gonna fall in love again after you. You’re it for me. I’m gonna love you until the day I die. Ideally, with you by my side, but…”

You closed your eyes, smiling gently, a bittersweet kind of love settling over your soul. “I just want you to be happy.”

“And I will be. With you.” He tugged you closer, pressing a long kiss to your cheek. “I had him put a little something together for you, too. If you wanna watch it now, or…later?”

“Now works.”

BB-8 rolled out of the bushes, whirring in congratulations.

You laughed. “Thank you!”

He rolled back a little, leaning up to project a video above him. What unfolded was a series of memories.

Poe and the others arriving on Mariposas to get you, Poe turning the medallion over in his hand.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Finn wondered.

“It’ll work. She’s…waited long enough.” Poe knelt down, pressing the medallion into the compartment of the healing pod. “I didn’t expect her to be so…”

“Beautiful…” Rey murmured, nodding.

“And young…” Poe said, watching as the amulet began to glow, the glass of the pod retracting shakily. They all waited in bated breath for you to wake up.

Eventually, the projection of you opened her eyes and you watched how you’d met them all, tired and confused, mistaking them for your old friends. Little had you known then just how much they would all mean to you.

After, BB-8 played a medley of each of the moments he’d captured, borrowed from other droids. The two of you building your lightsaber, him touching your wings for the first time, the way you reunited after battles and missions, the way you flirted around eachother, dancing circles around each other until finally colliding that fateful night at the gala. The way you flew over the base to get to him when he was injured. All the loving touches and gazes that came after, playfully hiding your relationship from your colleagues. Your victory kiss.

A montage of your love, all laid out for you nicely.

Fireworks boomed in the distance, the rebels out by the base finally getting into supplies you wouldn’t need now that the war was over.

You curled against his chest, swaying in the night, beneath the glittering lights.

“I can’t wait to make a million more, baby.” He murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I love you so goddamn much. Feels like it’s killing me sometimes.”

“I think that’s how it’s supposed to feel.” You kissed his cheek, then his lips. “I would know. I’ve loved you for a good, long time, Poe Dameron and…I’m gonna love you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

Epilogue

Months had passed. You had been boots on the ground on Mariposas, helping rebuild the tatters of your broken home. You started with the palace, a nice centralized building so everyone could be housed close together, but as more refugees arrived, you were sure you’d have the help you’d need to build the nearest village back up.

Rey and Finn had taken a journey to round up more Force Sensitives, the return of the Jedi, as it were. When they found them, everything would be ready. The Force would finally find balance again.

“Hey, baby, Laesynda found this in your father’s room. Said to bring it to you.” Poe said, stepping over some rubble on his way over to you, a small wooden box in his calloused hands. You weren’t married yet, still engaged and taking it one day at a time. There was a lot of work to be done before you’d feel settled enough for a wedding.

“Let me see…” You held it, brushing thirty years of dust from the lid before opening it slowly. Inside was one of your father’s rings. A gold band, a strip of purple gemstones through the center. On the inside was engraved a butterfly, the symbol of your people. “Oh…”

“It’s beautiful.” Poe said softly.

“It was Dad’s.” You confirmed, plucking it from its velvet casing. “Told her I was looking for it.”

“For what, your Highness?” He asked, voice featherlight as you took his hand, spreading his fingers.

“This.” You slid it onto his ring finger, searching his eyes. “I know we still have a lot to do before the wedding but…when all of the people get here, I…want them to know you’re mine.”

“Possessive little Princess, aren’t you? Don’t want your new subjects to get too carried away?”

“Not with my pilot.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Besides, it’s a Mariposan thing. I was supposed to propose to you, not the other way around.”

“See, I did know that, I just…couldn’t help myself.” He grinned, hand resting on your waist as he kissed you, the ring gleaming against his finger. “I’m a little impulsive.”

“I know.”

You heard a ship landing outside and rushed out with him to find the Millennium Falcon landing. Chewie emerged with Finn, Rey, and…Jannah? One of the defected Stormtroopers who had helped you all on the moon in the Endor system.

“Jannah! Hey!” You waved excitedly, rushing over to meet them, Poe following close behind.

“Your Highness…” She said, looking at you with a sparkle of insecurity in her eyes. “I’d be honored to train with you, if you’d have me.”

“Welcome aboard.” You replied, putting a hand on her arm, warmth in your eyes. “It’s not much yet, we’re still rebuilding, but, we’re getting there.”

“Day by day.” Finn said, smiling proudly. He was still wielding Luke’s green saber, and wielding it well.

In the months that had passed, however, Rey and Soren had crafted their own sabers. Rey’s was a dual blade. It made sense for her, with her experience with a staff, a brilliant yellow color. One you had never seen in a saber. Soren’s had taken on a lighter color, cyan, somewhere between green and blue. It suited him. Fresh, just like your nephew.

This left your legacy saber wielderless. You kept it with you, in case danger arose. Two sabers readily at your disposal, but…you had a feeling Jannah wouldn’t look so bad holding it. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Time would tell.

The pieces hadn’t magically fallen into place the minute the war had ended. Nor had you expected them to. Healing took time, lots of it. But you had a growing family there. People you could count on. People looking for a home, for a leader. A leader you hoped they would find in Laesynda, in yourself. Your brother had shattered the kingdom at his feet, but together, you hoped, you would find a way to recover. A way to more forward. To heal the past as you marched towards the future.

“We’ll get there.” Poe said, confident. Sure of it. You loved that about him.

“We will. All of us. Together.”

In the distance, Soren and Ben trained, flitting from branch to branch of the healing Monarch Tree, the crowned jewel of your home planet.

And for the first time in thirty years, it was finally beginning to bloom.

THE END.

Tags: @cap-lu20

[luescris]

Everybody buckle up and to those of you who follow me: I am sorry.

But I have acquired the Images and I must yell about them.

Because there are two things that always gets to me when it comes to shows: Imagery, and symbolism. It is not often where both are done well or right. Sometimes neither even exist. So I would have never expected a "what if" funny haha Lego star wars show that has a million meme refs in it to put such thought and care into how both are EFFORTLESSLY presented. And then slap on a whole layer of emotions and meaning.

Let me show you what I mean.

This. This was like the second thing that had my jaw drop to the floor. Glass shattering imagery combined with sick as hell lighting and a hint of symbolism in it???? Are you kidding me??? Like look at these; they're gorgeous!! I could stare at the quality for HOURS.

And don't even get me started on Dev and Sig's whole relationship. Cuz I have a MILLION things to say about it. For example.

Yes. This image is similar to the glass shattering one. But it's also so very much different because of the lighting and position of the two brothers. Dev being high above and Sig looking up from down below. This could also be a clever way to reference the, “I have the high ground” scene, but with that crack on the wall behind them?? Literally separating them apart while the bridge is already physically doing so??? There's so much to look at, so much to inference. The creators of this show paid so much attention to placement and meaning it's actually insane. 

Dev's whole point was to be devastating. He's more than just a villain with a temper, he has been hurt and was alone and was angry. His intro scene had him going, “If I didn't have you..” With a look of despair. He shook, he yelled, he was on the verge of tears. Like.

This. This? Sig's face. Dev standing over him like that. The freaking. Placement of where the characters are I don't know what the word is but dude. This was on purpose.

He doesn't even have the yellow Sith eyes! Sig knows he's not going to hurt him and he's so right and Dev hates that he's right. 

How can you sit there and hate after being given a face like that. A face so trusting and open and it's proving what Sig already knows. There is still hope left for Dev. There's still hope for everyone. Sig is just that beacon.

All his life Dev was alone and out of nowhere here Sig comes to ruin everything all because he cared. And the voice acting just sells it. It SELLS it. Sig whining whenever he was scared, Dev's “shut up.”, Jedi Bob being a sarcastic Master. Actually Dev's va work entirely like who IS that guy god-

I loved the chaos and ridiculousness of this entire show, but it combines the elements of Lego humor with the serious and heartbreaking stories of Star Wars and it's been a long time since I've seen that for this franchise. And to top it off???

It's all about grief. About moving on. Jedi Bob lost his whole galaxy, Sig has to learn how to live in this new one, Dev is struggling with the idea of how unfair it all is that he never got to be happy. Like at this point I don't even care if I'm looking way too far into this there's still so much meaning. 

How does Lego nail it in the head so many times. They're plastic toys meant to sell toys and it is working. 

One last honorable mention image that I just find absolutely sick as fuck for the road:

Another purposeful shot. Absolutely amazing. I'm gonna fall over and die. They're just legos..,,..,..,,,

This all happens in the span of the last episode and it is only four eps long, 26 min each. But it is so worth it.

Tdlr: Go watch Rebuild the Galaxy so we can get More of this please and thank you.

[writersblog20]

I got you, baby girl

Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: After a traumatic event, Pedro came in to make sure you felt safe again. You’re his baby girl after all.

Warnings: rage from the reader, hints to a bad household but no clear mention. A horrible father and stepmother, intimidation, (life) threats, mention of no safety, mention of the system failing the reader, ptsd, trauma, dissociating, edibles, dad jokes with Pedro, Reader calls Pedro old man (no offense, it’s part of an ongoing joke war in the story), Pedro being some sort of father figure vibes, wholesome relationship with Pedro, age-gap.

Words: 3,9K

A/N: So eh…. Something traumatic happened yesterday and this is what it’s based on the only thing different is that Pedro is in this. But yeah, I just really want and need him to comfort me because I’m seriously going through hell right now and yes I’m using the line from joel from the last episode from TLOU

 I got you, baby girl

You went to school and had a pretty good day. You felt alright and had a little bit more energy. You texted Pedro, like you guys always do. He was your co-star and you could say you had a pretty wholesome relationship. Kind of like Bella and Pedro have. You were great friends with Bella as well when Pedro introduced the two of you. Anyway, Pedro lived near you so the two of you spent time with each other as much as you could. He really was your comfort space and you loved him so much.

You walked into your classroom and it was going to be a long day but that was fine. You had an assignment and that would be: make a after movie from the event which would take up the whole day and evening but like I said, you were ready and gladly took the job.

The day went by fast and you went outside after the lessons to get some fresh air but that was when you saw her. The wife of your father. The one who did horrible things to you as a child. She did that besides your father. She was just as guilty. You immediately got on edge and went to fight or flight mode and yours was fight. And boy, did you want to fight her. The rage you felt was out of this world and you would happily sent her ten feet underground. It wasn’t that she would ignore you… Oh no… she was way worse, just like your dad and test you. She would always smirk at you and watch you. That made it always ten times worse because you wanted to bash her head in. First do all this shit to you as a child, getting away with it because the system failed you and then would always smirk at you when she would see you. It was like the biggest slap in the face because it told you everything you needed to know. “Yeah I did that and yes I got away with it. what are you going to do about it?” kind off smirk.

You walked back inside, completely in shock and that was when you realized that the event you needed to film, was why she was here. “Fuck….” You thought in utter shock as your body started to tremble, your eyes getting watery and your breathing became rapid. You texted Pedro about the situation and he knew a couple of things about your father. Just some snipped, important snippets nonetheless.

You texted Pedro but you knew he was in a meeting and probably wouldn’t respond right now. One of your teammates who walked outside with you, advised you to go to one of your teachers, preferably mentor. So you did.

You knocked on the door and walked in, sitting in front of your mentor as you spilled what was going on. You wished to never tell anyone here but you had no choice right now. You told the most important things but still wanted to do the assignment. You told her that you were scared that she might contact your father and that he would wait outside for you. He was a dangerous man and unpredictable. You never expected this to happen. You closed this chapter a long time ago and thought you might never see them again because you haven’t seen them for at least 2 years so you thought they moved or something but apparently not and now he knew what school you went to…

Your mentor gave you advise for what you could do if you felt uncomfortable or something would happen, where you could go and to who. You were deadest on doing this assignment. You wanted to because you never want them to take something else from you away, even if it would be this dumb project. It was the principle for you. There were moments where you teared up a couple of times but pushed those emotions away as much as you could, only to notice that it was getting harder with the second.

When you were done with the conversation, you and your teammates gathered the gear and started to get ready, only to be interrupted by your mentor and one of your other teachers, asking you to come with them. So you did. You felt a heaviness in the air, how could it not but you tried to stay as professional as you could because that was how you kept your emotions under control. Like you wanted to say, you know what, it’s not that big of a deal, forget about it.

But you knew. You knew this was a big deal and not something to take lightly, even though you really wanted to take this lightly so you could dissociate from it. Yeah, not a good copings mechanism. You sat down and the air got thicker and thicker with the second, almost making it unbearable to breath. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

Maybe you took it so lightly because you were already dissociating. You weren’t thinking clearly anymore and was very much led by your emotions, which is understandable. You teacher started speaking up. “Y/N, I’m really sorry to tell you this but I think it’s better for you to go home… We can’t guarantee your safety here. We know you’re strong and you want to do this assignment but there will be more to come so you don’t have to worry about that. But I think it’s the best to go home. Not only for your physical safety but also for your mental safety and to avoid conflict. I’m very sorry…”

She spoke softly but you felt your heart break in to a million pieces. You understand where they are coming from but the point is, that it’s even necessary and how fucking unfair it is. They did things to YOU and now YOU HAD to go home. Why did the system fail you? Why do you have to leave and not them. Why do you have to fight for your mental health because of things THEY did to you. Why can they live without any consequence? IT’S THEIR FUCKING FAULT AND NOW YOU HAD TO LEAVE. That was it. You felt so much injustice and it broke you down. You started crying and couldn’t stop.

They looked with sympathy at you and you hated it. You hated this conversation, you hated the people who did this and you hated this look. It was always the look. That’s why you didn’t want to tell people. You know they mean well and of course you would feel like shit even if they wouldn’t give you that look. It was just the unfairness. They took something from you, once again. Your mentor softly rubbed your knee. You even had to go through the fucking backdoor. You felt your phone buzz and look who it was. Pedro. Or in your phone: Pedge. You picked up, needed to hear him. That was the only thing you wanted right now. You needed Pedro.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” Extreme worry laced in his voice. You started to tear up as you looked up at your teachers. “Could you maybe pick me up?” The cracks in your voice with the tremble was undeniable. “Are you still at school?” you hummed and let out a soft sob. “I’m on my way, stay there sweetheart.” You hang up and the teachers stayed with you until you got a text from Pedro, telling you where he was parked.

Your mentor walked with you with two security guards. The fact that this was necessary was heartbreaking. Pedro immediately got out of his car when he saw you. His face plagued by worry, anxiety and wanted to comfort you, keep you safe and protected. He picked up his pace, his eyes never leaving his face and you felt yourself crumble down with each step Pedro got closer to you.

Tears slipping on your cheeks when Pedro got to you and pulled you in the biggest and tightest hug. The people from school took a step back, giving you some space. You started to sob uncontrollably and your whole body was shaking. Pedro got out of the hug and placed his large hands on your cheeks. “Hey, look at me. it’s me. It’s okay, it’s okay baby girl.I got you. I got you baby girl.” He told you when he pulled you in a hug again. “I got you, you’re safe now. I got you.” You’ve never heard his voice this soft before. He was so gentle and you were so fragile at the moment.

“Let’s get you home baby girl.” He whispered, making you nod while you hid your face in his neck, smelling his cologne which made you feel a bit safer and calmed you down. Pedro took your backpack with your laptop and gear in it from you and hang it on his shoulder. His other arm over your shoulder, pulling you close to the side of his body. He said some things to your teacher, which you didn’t hear. You were very much dissociating right now. Pedro softly led you to his car, never taking his eyes off you.

He knew you were in for a ride now. Yeah you were safe now and stuff but the after effect, was what was going to be tough. You were extremely triggered in your ptsd. Pedro helped you in the car and slightly leaned over you to put the seatbelt on while you stared in front of you with, at the moment, no emotions behind your eyes. very much like a doll right now but that is dissociation huh.

Pedro was driving to his house, yet keeping a close eye on your while you silently cried. Just tears running down at this point. When you arrived at Pedro’s house, he helped you get out of the car and led you in the house, his arm still around you.

He placed your backpack on the table when you sat down on the couch, still having trouble processing this. Pedro sat down next to you and pulled you into side. One arm behind you and the other around you, caressing your head as he softly pulled your head towards his chest. You broke down at that point, just completely and franticly crying your eyes out while Pedro softly rocking you back and fort while he shushed you and whispered comforting words in your ear.

After 45 minutes, Pedro finally managed to calm you down. Your breathing started to slow down again and the crying started to get less and less. You felt exhausted. Mentally and physically. “There you go. There you go sweetheart. You’re doing so well princesa.” He cooed you. Your eyes were puffy and completely red at this point. “Let’s get you some tea. You need to hydrate.” He told you and only let go of you when you got out of the hug. Your back and sides started to hurt because it wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world so you got out of the hug. Pedro reluctantly let go of you, awaiting your next move.

Pedro cupped your cheeks and softly, gently wiped away the last remaining tears from your cheeks while giving you a soft, loving and gentle smile. You softly smiled back but you both knew it wasn’t a real one. He softly planted a kiss on your forehead and pulled you into another hug. His hand behind your neck, softly placing your head against his chest as he let out a soft sigh as he started to relax himself now, knowing that your safe. He was extremely worried and stressed about you but now that he had you in his arms, that fear became a little less.

Pedro got out of the hug and reached out his hand for you to take. You walked hand in hand towards the kitchen where he started to make some tea. “Let’s go upstairs and get you into something comfortable and wash your face right now baby girl.” Every time he called you baby girl, you felt more and more safer and calmer.

While the tea was waiting to boil, you both walked upstairs. You’ve been here many times when you would accidently fall asleep on his couch and he would bring you upstairs to lie you down in his bed while he slept on a couch in his room. When you would wake up in the middle of the night and find him there, you woke him up to just get in the bed with you. Nothing behind it, just sleep. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but he could never do that.

Anyways, you’ve been here many times by now. Pedro got some of his comforting clothes out of his closet and gave you a hoodie and joggings with some warm socks. You walked in the bathroom and looked in the mirror, only to see yourself completely broken in the mirror. It looked like you’ve been through hell. Well, you kind of did since all the flashbacks from years prior came back obviously.

You got changed and washed your face before walking back. Pedro was patiently waiting for you as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his hands. He quicky looked up at you when you exited the bathroom. He stood up, worry still visible on his face while he awaited your reaction. You walked towards him and placed your arms around him for a hug. You felt his arms around you and gently tighten around you as he lingered his lips on the top of your head.

“How about, we get some tea, get high, watch a stupid movie and order your favorite take- out, with the dessert obviously and you stay here for tonight and take a day off tomorrow hmh? You need your rest baby.” You nodded softly, only to tear up again. “That sounds really nice, I’d like that.” You could just cry about anything at this point. “Then we’ll do that. And don’t you worry about a thing okay? That’s my job.” You softly chuckled but you knew what he meant. He meant that he would take care of whatever would come your way.

You walked downstairs and looked outside, only to see a snowstorm going on right now. Pedro lit the fireplace as you sat silently on the couch. Pedro went to the kitchen to get some tea for you and to put your plushy heating pad in the microwave. You started to stare in front of you again until Pedro came back into his Livingroom. He placed the tea on the table and gave the plushy to you with a soft smile. He got a blanket from the corner of the couch and placed it around your shoulders and sat next to you.

You always had the corner of the couch at Pedro’s house and so now and then you shared it with him. Or well, he just sat next to you in the corner and you were perfectly fine with that. So this time was for obvious reasons no different. You were waiting for him to get comfortable before you did because you wanted to cuddle. Pedro held his arm out for you and you laid against his side, your head resting just above his heart with your arm around him. “You got the edibles by the way?” you asked when you remembered but already heard Pedro chuckle above you and gave you the candy.

You both took it and he got the tv remote searching for funny videos. You guys were easy since you both had the same humor so when you would find something, you shared it with him and the other way around. You both easily sent a lot of tiktoks to each other. It was your love language and Pedro figured that out pretty quick.

You rested against Pedro again and he softly cradled your head and chuckled softly at the videos being played on his tv, making you chuckle softly as well which Pedro noticed and dramatically gasped. “Are YOU laughing at this?” Sarcasm and a playful tone lingering on his words. “Are you??” you chuckled a bit more when he poked your side before chuckling himself as you squealed.

After a while the edibles started to kick in and you finally reached your relaxing point. You were at this point rolled up in the blanket. “Let’s order some food” Pedro remarked and laughed a little when he saw you. “My little sad burrito.”  He told you with sympathy yet playfully. You giggled slightly and Pedro held his phone in front of you so you could choose what to eat. You chose on sushi and Pedro ordered a whole bunch of stuff and obviously, desserts.

The two of you were more slouched down into the couch and Pedro more to your side at this point, cuddling up together. You both almost fell asleep until the doorbell rang. Pedro jumped up. “Fuck, I forgot.” He mumbled more to himself while he struggled to get up, making you chuckle slightly.

Pedro got back inside with three full bags full of food. The smell hit your nose and your tummy started growling, making Pedro chuckle softly. You got out of your cocoon and helped him placing the food on the small table in front of the couch. When everything was set, you both sat down on the carpet on the floor. “Thank you Pedge..  for everything.” You told him and Pedro stopped eating for a sec and looked at you. “Baby girl, it’s no problem at all, you know that right? I’m here for you, you don’t have to do it alone anymore.” He told you and softly placed his hand on the back of your head and softly pulled your head towards him so he could kiss the top of your head. You smiled softly and Pedro knew that this too, was a part of your love language.

After dinner and some desserts, you were completely content. You and Pedro cleaned the table and placed the left overs in the fridge before plopping back down on the couch. At this point the edibles reached a point where you both would laugh at everything. Or at least, you both had that effect on each other and it almost started a war from who can make the other laugh the most. So that happened on set and interviews, red carpets etc.

Pedro got your plushy again and placed it in his microwave and gave it back to you when it was warm enough. You started watching some compilation of tiktok videos on his tv and both couldn’t stop laughing. Laughing even harder at the next video so at a point you both were in tears from laughing so much. You wiped away your tears and looked at Pedro who laid stretched out on the couch, his head against your shoulder as he tried to stop laughing but failing miserably and making you laugh because of him.

It was dark outside, the whole street covered by the snow, only for more to come as the storm picked up. For some reason you always felt comforted and safe when it snowed. It made you feel like you were in a tiny snow globe where nothing could hurt you so imagine how safe, comforted and protected you felt now.

All of a sudden you just felt like giving Pedro a hug so you did. You wrapped your arms around Pedro and held him tightly. Pedro was taken back by surprise and was scared for a moment that you felt bad again. It took him a moment to respond but when he did, he quickly placed his arms around you and held you tightly while his lips rested on your head. “You okay baby girl?” he asked gentle, making you nod. “Yeah… because of you. Thank you. I know I said it before but I mean it. thank you.” He knew what you meant. You loved him and this was your way of saying so. “You’re more than welcome. You’re my baby girl, don’t forget that.” His voice still soft and kissed the top of your head multiple times.

When you got out of the hug, but still kept physical contact by laying on his chest again. At this point you both laid down completely. “Not to ruin this moment, but my back is killing me.” you chuckled at the way he said it. “Yeah, yeah you laugh about that. Come knocking at my door when you get my age, then we’ll talk” He said playfully. “Want to watch a movie in bed old man?” you chuckled, playfully teasing him as a dramatic gasp left his lips. “Did you just called me an old man? I’m offended!” You got up from the couch and reached out your hand to help him off the couch. “my fault. I meant middle aged man.” You chuckled. This was always a part of your joking routine.

Pedro took your hand and groaned dramatically when he got up from the couch, making you laugh. “You go freshen up first, I’ll warm up your plushy.” He told you. You quickly kissed him on his cheek as a thanks and made your way upstairs. When you were done, and got a pajama from Pedro’s closet, knowing he won’t mind and laid down in bed, scrolling a bit through your phone. You heard Pedro walking up the stairs and into the room. He handed you your plushy and you held it against your abdomen and thanked him before he disappeared into the bathroom which didn’t take him long.

He crawled in next to you and handed you the tv remote to look for a movie. You chose out your comfort movie and cuddled up in Pedro’s arms. Pedro knew you were exhausted and would fall asleep in no time, which he wasn’t wrong about. You were desperately fighting to stay awake, nodding off and then quickly opening your eyes again. Pedro saw you fight and he softly chuckled. “It’s okay baby girl. Get some sleep, you’re safe now. I’ll be right here and won’t go anywhere.” You mumbled a bit at the cooing before closing your eyes and feeling the safety in Pedro’s arms. You were glad you had Pedro who looked out for you and would cross the world for you if he had to. There was no doubt about that and he would make sure that you won’t forget that.  

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 2, Wave 3, Poll 2

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Chu Sangwoo-Semantic Error

Qualifications/Propaganda:

hey this is just a little more info on Chu Sangwoo (obvs you don't have to include him if you don't want to but I'd figure I'd send some more stuff in) (I also don't think I submitted him? but I know who he is) So there's a manhwa (Korean webcomic) and a tv series (I'm personally more familiar with the tv series). Basically, he's very strongly coded as autistic, though it's never explicitly stated (though in the manhwa I believe they mention that he has some unspecified disorder).So here's a list of some of the things he does in the series that are why people say he's autistic-coded:

meticulously organized and adheres to a strict schedule he set for himself

struggles when things happen that he didn't predict beforehand/throws a wrench into his plans

is very blunt, gets labeled as antisocial/being like a machine, and struggles with understanding other's social cues

practices saying things so that he won't come off as insincere

creates his own systems to accomplish tasks and struggles to work in unfamiliar environments/environments with lots of distractions

views life very logically and doesn't like it when things happen that break his rules of logic

wishes he could format his brain so he wouldn't have to deal with confusing and unnecessary feelings

There's others but that's a few of the main ones.Anyways here's a little clip from the series that hopefully helps add more context? https://youtu.be/Mai2WvTpIv8 And anyways if you still decide to not include him, that's fine, but I'd figure that I'd send y'all some more info just in case! Excited for th bracket regardless!!!

Chu Sangwoo is canonically gay, the series is a gay romance & he falls for Jaeyoung, who's the complete opposite of him personality wise. Hence the title- semantic 'error' since attraction wasn't expected. It's a really good series and Chu Sangwoo is realistic and well-written (speaking as a fellow queer autistic).

Elim Garak-Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Qualifications:

He has PTSD due to child abuse, as well as a painkiller addiction due to a brain implant. He is also extremely gay. Like literally everybody who watches DS9 immediately understands this about him. He was explicitly played by his actor, Andy Robinson, as attracted to Julian Bashir, and his only heterosexual romance is truly painful to witness. Andrew Robinson has also said that he has had a one-night stand with Dukat, one of the main villains of DS9 and noted lizard nazi. Do with that what you will. His closest relationship onscreen by far is with Julian.

Propaganda:

This man. There is a reason so many people are obsessed with him. Former spy, current tailor, forever an incurable bitch. Guilty of many war crimes, including onscreen attempted genocide. Once intentionally blew up his own tailor shop (with him in it) because he didn't want to ask for help with something. In his very first scene on the show, he wears an shirt that strongly resembles a watermelon, propositions Julian Bashir, and leaves while canonically high on painkillers. He has PTSD due to child abuse at the hands of the head of the space lizard KGB, who is also his dad, and a painkiller addiction due to a brain implant he has to help him withstand torture. He tortures a main character in one episode, and then a few episodes later they start having regular breakfasts together. Once got high on Space Weed and started systematically murdering people while making ominous announcements about chess over the PA system. The Most Character Ever.

Anything Else?:

He once told Julian to eat his rod. It was about a futuristic USB stick (datarod) but he still very much said it.

Submitted by @convenient-plot-device

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

Prof. Rose AU Concept

To be clear this isn't the only Au/ comic I'll put the model in but it is the one that comes to mind for me most often.

All of team RWBY are born into the previous generation.

Ruby would've never thought of herself as the teaching type of Huntress and yet here she was in Beacon showing students how to Huntress with the best of them.

So yeah she was a bit late to the classes she taught, and liked to dress... Um, a bit messily BUT THAT WAS HER METHOD GOSH DANGIT!

Besides she was a adult, and a awesome one at that. Heck Gynda barely ever scolded her... Anymore.

Today was no different either as she walked to the auditorium. Near the launch pad, watching as new students came flocking out looking around with stars in their eyes and hope in their hearts.

She remembered being like that back then... Okay, maybe not like that one blonde blowing chunks into the garbage can but still.

A bunch of Weiss's Dust packed, she was Enough reminiscing she had stuff to do like being a awesome partner, moving her friend's Dust to their room. Now she didn't need to pay extra for them to navigate Beacon and, and, ACHOO!!!

'Boom!'

What Was This Place Cursed!? Really? the same spot she blew up I on her first day her all those years ago!

At least she didn't have a fuming Weiss to deal with this time again... Right now.

She sat there sulking remembering back then to. That'd nearly broken her back in the day. But she knew better now, nobody would come to help he-

"You okay?" She blinked, looking up and meeting gazes with a boy.

"Aren't you the guy who blew chunks in the trash?" And like that she'd instantly insulted one of her students and a nice cute one too... Wait, cute?

"Hey I have motion sickness! It's a common problem that a lot of people have." They walked through the school, him quick to follow her lead. The boys name was Jaune, obviously he was a first year.

And he wielded a classic bastard sword with a mecha-shifting sheath/ shield. Nothing fancy but the metal was like freakishly durable and seemed immune to rust! She'd admit to drooling over the thought of what she could make with a alloy like that.

Oh And Jaune Was A Arc!

A Actual Arc! To most people that wouldn't mean much, heck to hear even just a few years ago it wouldn't mean much. But now that she and her team were Part of Ozpins super secret decret circle she knew better.

Jaune came from a long line of heroes, heroes who fought against Salem and in just about every war you could look up. Heck one of the two people exemplified on the statue were a Arc!

Yep Jaune was gonne do great, awesome things, she just had a gut feeling about these sorta things. He even got that she was older then him! And with her baby face that was saying something!

Though admittedly he did only think she was a senior, but still. Jaune was hitting every box to being her favorite student this year. She was so excited she was gushing about her new friend to Glynda and the rest of the staff that night.

Still if Jaune was gonna be her new favorite student she wanted to know everything about him she could. Some research was in order... And he cheated his way into Beacon...

Cool, and here she was expecting worse like him being a former terrorist or bandit like Blake or her uncle Qrow. He just never went to combat school.

That wasn't so bad, he probably had the basics down and could he taught the rest. Yep, everything would be A-Okay!

-0-0-0-

EVERYTHING WAS NOT A-OKAY!!! Heck It wasn't even C-Okay! It was F-Bad! Real Bad! Jaune Didn't Have Aura! Nope Nadda! HOW!?

What Kinda Parents Didn't Unlock Thier Kids Auras When They Wanted To Fight Grimm!

Thank God Pyrrha There... Touching his chest, unlocking his aura... One of the most intimate acts you could share with another person...

Huh? She, she didn't like that... At all. Though there were some hiccups Jaune and his team managed to pass, with Jaune leading it... Yeah she was getting flashbacks to her first year.

The party started and his team was the center of attention or to be more accurate Pyrrha and very very much not normal knees. Good thing Jaune seemed to catch on quick cuz he quickly took the lead and acted like a buffer between her adoring fans. And now Pyrrha was blushing as she looked to him.

Did she like him... No.

No no no no NO!

Okay, so maybe she had a few drinks, but she was a adult so it was fine... Besides the drinks just made Jaune look yummiest after all... Yummier?

She dragged him off for super secret team leaders advice that none of the other leaders needed. Why would they?

Nope Jaune was her friend and student, which meant she won, Pyrrha was just his partner.

So they talked, about how imitation went, about his family (And geez what a family) and what he wanted to be... Like her? Her?

"Yeah, I looked some videos up and figured out you were some kinda hero Craterfac-, I mean Ms. Rose.

Nope! She did not like that! And refused to let it stand. And when he dared to refuse her refusal she decided force was needed and tackled him down.

Pinning down her new friend/ student she threatened him to start calling her Ruby again like all her friends only to freeze up. Becaus something was pushing up against her. Something big and hard, and in Jaune's pants... Oh!

And like that he was off, rushing away with a absolutely tomato colored face. And she was left there, everything clicking in her head and tingling in her body... Oh, so she had a crush on Jaune...

And didn't that present a problem, Ruby Awesome Rose had butt tons of experience in a lot of stuff.

Fighting Grimm, Weapon Repair, Baking... But romance was very much not her field. And Weiss and Yang were nowhere in sight to ask for advice. Well, at least there was once source of study she had available on hand.

Thank Oum for Blake and her books, she was sure they'd make Great references material...

And great they did, especially with a drink or two... Yep Jaune could definitely be like these studs and... Heheh and do fun stuff to her.

Actually 'Hic' why did she never think about making babies? She was a grown woman, and Jaune she could chisel into a super hunky knight.

Yeah, the more she thought of it the better that idea got. And drinks made the plan all the sexier. utterly sloshed, she worked another orgasm off of watching a teacher student porno, and found herself quite annoyed.

Why was she using this? There was a cute dork who just passed Initiation AKA was totally and utterly legal.

Her mind made up she whipped out her Scroll and made her way down go JNPR's room. Knocking on it, waiting for someone to answer, for 'Him' to answer, the door opening her prize came half confused as and all flustered as he readied to speak. But she didn't let him, after all she wanted a taste really bad...

Lips smacking she pulled back and found him landing flat on him ass face red as a tomato and pitching a new tent.

Her drunk mind worked a lightbulb and she smiled. .

That was just the sorta reaction she wanted, she would pressed on, already getting ready to pull down her top but she could hear the familiar sound of Glynda's heels as she made her way there.

-0-0-0-

Jaune was flustered, not sure how he was gonna face Prof. Rose, yep, Professor, Ruby as it turned out wasn't just some quirky fourth year student. Nope, his dumb butt went and made buddies with his teacher... He could already hear the bullies cracking their knuckles. That team CRDL group had been bugging him ever since, but somehow that wasn’t even the worst of it. Nope, the worst was Ruby herself, well… What she did while drunk…

 His cheeks pinked, still vaguely recalling the taste of strawberries… He really needed to clear the air, he knew asses who tried to take advantage of his sisters when they were drunk and he had no intention of falling in with that lot.

All he could do was try to clear the air with miss Rose and hope she would be understanding, she might’ve kissed him but he did lean into it instead of rejecting it. So even if others would argue it he felt guilty… Still he was in his first class here and she was gonna teach it, fingers crossed she wouldn’t hate his… His. Sexy… Wha!? No he meant what was she wearing!?

-0-0-0-

One awesome thing about having a Drunkle Qrow was that Ruby Rose was a expert drinker, highly adapted and incredibly quick to bounce back. AKA no hang overs and a crystal clear memory… And oh did she make great memories last night!

Hehe, he tasted like honey, and his face got all red, she bit her lip thinking about it, okay so yep Ruby Rose had it bad. And usually she might hesitate, but Drunk Ruby had nailed the assist! And now Ruby knew Jaune was interested and that she wanted it!

Oh she panicked at first, but then looked up the rule book and yeppers it was all cool and legal! Heck her dating Jaune wasn’t nearly as bad as half the stuff her team got into back when they were students!

Maybe when she was a freshman she might’ve panicked, have second guessed herself… But that was then, she’d gone through to much, to many difficult experiences to be thwarted by romance… Mt. Glenn… Dr. Merlot and Salem’s sinister circle and the Hunters disappearing in Mistral. Ruby Rose had faced death and danger on scales most hunters would never know.

And from them she’d learned above all else the value in being decisive, and Ruby Decisive Rose had a new goal! And that goal was a blonde young knight husbando! Mark her words! Ruby Rose was Gonna get herself a man! And Jaune Arc didn’t stand a chance!

She would use all the knowledge and know how of Blake’s many smutty books, and years observing her big sis flirting to her full advantage! She was no longer a member of the itty bitty boobie club dangit, she had Ruboobies to match her Bubooty! And she was gonna use it to it’s full effect!

And Ozpin was all for her making some Silver Eyed Babies! Which meant Jaune Arc was as good as her’s! Ruby Rose had it going on and every student in the class had their eyes on her in her sexy dress including Jaune!

Operation Lancaster Start!

[zahmaddog]

Part 5: Family Matters

Warnings: Fluffy AF, Flirting, Slowest Burn, Blaster Fire, Explosions, Head Injuries, Light Romance (SFW), Crosshair opening up, Comfort, and some heavy Star Wars cameos. (Entire series NSFW.)

Crosshair x fem!reader | Word Count: 2885

Hi, fellow Crosshair lovers. I'm continuing to poke away at this narrative until it resolves. There will probably be about 7 parts. I took some liberties with this one and it's okay if nobody likes it. ;) Crosshair is soft in this, but also still harsh with quips and attitude. The reader is still a bounty hunting badass with dark humor.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Separated by two laser-shields and a hallway, you and Crosshair anxiously awaited the arrival of this “Lord Vader” character. The patrol guards really didn’t mind, or perhaps notice, the soft conversations between you and Crosshair. 

“You good?” you asked, your chin resting on your arms as you sat, curled in a ball against the wall. 

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled. You could hear him exhale, “Are you good?”

“Eh, I’m home,” you smirked a little in disbelief that you were back on an Imperial ship. 

Crosshair scoffed a little. He enjoyed your dark humor. You felt the pause in conversation as his emotions shifted.

“I understand the feeling,” he sighed. 

“You know, I still feel so hollow over it all,” you described.

“Hollow?” Crosshair prodded you to continue.

“I spent nearly every part of myself trying to keep my family together. But in the end, my differences with the Empire were enough to be forgotten. I’d take them all back in a second, but I’m never going to be enough for them,” you wearily confided. “It leaves me rather hollow.” 

“We can hope that one day they’ll wake up missing you,” Crosshair tried to comfort. “Being here, in these Imperial walls again, reminds me of how…” he trailed off. “Cross?” you looked across the hall to see him studying his mechanical hand.

“The Empire broke me too,” he confessed. 

“What happened?” you finally asked. You had been wanting to know the story of his hand for months now, but similar to yourself, Crosshair rarely divulged information that brought up painful emotions. You knew your compatibility had a trusting foundation because neither of you expected the other to leak all the secrets that made you, you. 

He continued to sit in silence. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” you assured him.

“I made a friend with a reg,” he started. “A reg?” you didn’t know the term. “A regular clone. Clone Force 99, we were never accepted as true clones by the regs, so we considered ourselves superior. Which genetically speaking, we are,” he continued, lightening up a little when mentioning his squad.

You nodded in following his explanation and watched his shoulders drop again as he continued his story.

“His name was Mayday,” he sighed. “There was an avalanche, and I risked everything to get him back to base. He saved me and I couldn’t save him in return.” He paused. “Then the Empire betrayed him; betrayed us.” He shrugged and breathed through the memory, “I killed an Imperial officer in response. If Mayday wasn’t important to the Empire, then I could never be,” he ended. 

You realized he wasn’t going to explain what happened to his hand, but that his heart had scars more painful to attend to.

“I haven’t told anyone about Mayday,” he said above a whisper.

“I’ll keep your secret,” you assured him.

—-

The Imperial prisoner meals were atrocious. The ground meat and organ stew they’d serve reminded you to never complain about a rations bar again. After about three rotations, your visitor arrived. 

The warbling of the interrogation droid and heavy footsteps of a dark entourage approached your cell. The only comfort you felt was when they passed Crosshair’s cell to enter yours first. 

The Imperial party was led by a tall individual, masked, caped, and audible breathing. Attached to his belt, you spied a hanging Jedi weapon. Your uncle stepped out from behind him and entered your cell first. 

“She was in possession of the holocron?” Vader pressed Tarkin. 

“Yes,” Tarkin respectfully replied. “We caught her and that clone trying to smuggle it off Coruscant.” 

“What clone?” Vader turned to Tarkin. Tarkin motioned behind them to Crosshair’s cell with a nod. Vader glanced at Crosshair standing at attention near the door of his cell, then turned his attention back to you. He stepped deeper into the cell and you were filled with a sense of doom. Vader lifted his hand to reveal the glowing holocron.

“Did the holocron reveal anything to you?” Vader interrogated. 

Confused by the question, you hesitated, “No.”

Vader raised his hand towards your face and you were flooded with a cold presence. You felt him in your mind, reading thoughts; asking questions; pulling memories. You shuddered, but couldn’t turn away. You realized this was the true power of what legends called the force. 

“Is she lying?” Tarkin prodded Vader. 

Releasing his gravitational-like hold, Vader turned to leave the cell. 

“Do not bother me with your family matters again,” Vader directed Tarkin. 

Vader exited your cell and paused at Crosshair’s for a short moment. Crosshair showed no fear as he stood tall, but was towered by Vader. Vader’s breathing echoed in the hallway and presence smothered any spark of a thought. This man was a walking contagion of fear.

Vader continued down the hallway and you were left again with Tarkin. He resealed your cell and began walking down the hallway with his personal guard. 

“Schedule these two traitors for execution,” Tarkin ordered. “Yes, sir,” the stormtrooper replied. 

Angry, you hit the wall of your cell with your fist. You knew there was only one more chance to escape, and that would be in transit from the cell to the execution room. 

Afraid to meet Crosshair’s line of sight, you forced yourself to look outside your cell into his. His eyes reflected his heartbreak and fear, until he caught your eye. His expression shifted to a brave and serious look, nodding in your direction. You swore to yourself you were going to save him, no matter the cost.

Your conviction kept you awake that night. Admiring Crosshair’s ability to drift into a careless slumber even on death row, you managed to relax a little. But, you knew the guard would return in the morning to escort you out of the detention cell, for what you planned or they planned would be the last time. That small moment would be your chance, but you knew they’d be well-guarded and prepared. 

In the morning, the guard arrived. One stormtrooper appeared at your door and another at Crosshair’s, disabling the laser array nearly simultaneously. You and Crosshair recognized this as their first mistake. Why would they free you at the same time? Rookie mistake.

Overwhelming them within a split second, you swept your stormtrooper’s leg with yours, taking him to the floor, then unleashed a powerful ax-kick across the soldier’s face, knocking him unconscious.

From across the hall, you heard Crosshair yell and literally throw the stormtrooper into the wall across from him, also knocking the trooper unconscious. You armed yourself with the blaster in your cell and lept free, sending blaster fire down the hallway to assist Crosshair as he stormed the remaining prison guard with his newly acquired blaster.

With a ricocheting shot, Crosshair took out the guards running the comms, but they had already sent an alert that you and he had escaped. 

“We made that look easy,” you yawned and stretched out. “And to think I stayed up all night worrying.”

“It’s about to get much busier down here,” Crosshair sighed as he reached for your shoulders and inspected your condition. He softly put his hand around your jaw and rested his lips on yours. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. 

“We’re not out of this yet,” he continued.

“What’s the plan?” you breathed. “They’ll be monitoring comms, cameras, elevators, escape pods, and ground all other ships,” he scanned the ceiling above the elevator door. You followed his gaze and understood what he was thinking. “So, we go up through the elevator shaft to not trigger the elevator?” you ask.

“Yes, but only go up a single floor. They’ll know we’re in there within seconds,” Crosshair sprinted to the lift and shot the corner of the panel above it. Tearing it from the wall, he created an entrance to the shaft. Crosshair boosted you up first, then you pulled him up. You shuffled through the few feet of paneling and dropped to the elevator shaft with Crosshair closely behind.

Hanging from metal paneling, you felt your fingers burn as your weight pinched them. You took your blaster, and shot the panel above. Climbing best you could, you reached the panel. Managing to get some footing between gaps and ledges, you and Crosshair pulled the panel from the wall.

Suddenly, the lift shuddered and began lowering.

“They’re coming!” Crosshair exclaimed. 

You swung your legs into the newly made gap and turned to pull Crosshair through. The lift passed your hiding space, missing Crosshair’s feet by a hair.

“Maker, that was too close,” you collapsed onto your back under your lack of breath with Crosshair mostly lying on top of you, also out of breath. The intimacy of the moment makes Crosshair blush a little. 

Pulling yourself through the gap, you and he remove the paneling on the opposite side, creating an escape. You dropped down to the floor above the detention level and immediately blasted the cameras spying from the corner.

You heard a pair of patrol guards around the corner. You and Crosshair hugged the wall with your backs like steadied predators. Once the patrol was in sight, you and Crosshair stunned them both.

“Want to play ‘dress up’ again?” you joked. “No,” Crosshair sighed. “But I will,” he mumbled as he took the helmet from the stormtrooper. “You’re far too small to fit in as a stormtrooper,” he said to you. “New plan. I wear this and you’re my prisoner.” “Kinky,” you replied, eyeing around the corner for stormtroopers.

“What?” he huffed back at you.

“We’ll do what we have to,” you nodded looking back at him.

Crosshair pulled on the white stormtrooper armor while you kept watch. You felt him at your back, taking your blaster. 

“I’ll need this if we’re going to pull this off,” he insisted. 

“Let’s go,” you began to walk with your hands behind your back. “We need to find a map. I’ve never been on a ship like this.”

“Agreed,” Crosshair nodded, digging the back of his blaster into your back and holding your hands close. 

The hallways were more desolate than anticipated. Hearing your footsteps echo down the Imperial chambers, you and Crosshair made your way through the ship, blindly. Heading up and down flights of stairs, in and out of hallways, you were beginning to tire. 

“Something isn’t right,” you acquiesced to address the building anxiety in your gut. “Where is everyone?”

Arriving at a closed door, Crosshair clicked the door’s button. It opened to reveal an in-ship spacewalk, the galaxy being the only source of illumination. You and he took a step inside and the door sealed behind you and Crosshair automatically.

The door parallel to your entrance opened. Your heart dropped as you saw Tarkin and his Lord Vader standing at the opposite end of the hallway. Crosshair pressed your blaster’s hilt into your hand in preparation for the standoff. 

“I didn’t think you’d have another escape in you,” Tarkin gloated.

“I was never what you expected,” you were losing your patience and felt your immature, reckless tendencies take over. Or perhaps it was out of the insomniatic stupor you developed over the last hour. Either way, you leaned into your hotheaded, daredevil attitude; embracing the power it gave you. Raising your blaster at your uncle, you pulled the trigger.

Vader ignited his lightsaber, blocking the blaster fire and sending it into the window, causing it to crack. The expected anticipation of getting sucked into space silenced all movement in the hallway between the four of you. 

“Leave them to me,” Vader shattered the silence and motioned Tarkin out of the room. Tarkin shot you a glare filled with hatred and exited the room, leaving you and Crosshair with a killer Jedi.

Vader raised his hand and you braced yourself for the cold feeling. Instead, you and Crosshair flew through the air, hitting the door with incredible impact. Crosshair, who was higher in the air due to his height, had hit the door jam with the back of his head. You slid down the door into a heap on the floor as Crosshair landed face down. 

“Crosshair!” you shook his shoulder, but he was out cold. 

Vader closed in, his red blade reflecting off every surface in the room. You pulled Crosshair’s head and shoulders onto your lap and tried to look as small as possible against the door out of fear. Vader unexpectedly opened the door behind you, causing you to fall through its threshold. 

“Save the clone, traitor” Vader raised his hand once more, forcing you and Crosshair through the doorway, then he sealed the door behind him. 

In shock of being spared, you were motionless for a moment that felt like eternity. You couldn’t breathe. The shattering of the glass in the hallway spurred your attention back to life. You looked through the small window just outside the sky bridge to see the glass scattered through local space. Vader was nowhere to be seen.

You stood up, shoved your blaster into your pants, and began to drag Crosshair down the hallway. Finding a comm station, you ignited the holomap and located the hangar. You heard troops headed your way again, so you dove under the desk and pulled Crosshair in close with you. You could hear him stirring in his helmet.

“Crosshair!” you whispered. “Are you okay?”

You helped him out of his helmet, where he tried to clear his throat with a covert cough. 

“How did we escape?” he looked at you in bewilderment. 

“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered.

“You don’t know?” Crosshair rubbed his forehead and ran his hand over where he had hit his head, he winced as he touched what would be an intense bruise.

“I can’t make any sense of it, but I — we should be dead,” you whispered as you peered out from under the desk and back to Crosshair. You looked into his eyes and checked for any odd pupil activity. “Follow my finger—,” you started as you raised your index finger in front of his face. Crosshair softly swatted your hand down. “I’m fine,” he mouthed.

“We need to move,” you motioned. 

Crosshair nodded and the both of you shuffled out from under the desk.  

“I located a hangar bay while dragging you to safety,” you tried to lighten the moment again with your darker humor. “It’s just through here and down a flight of stairs,” you pointed to an upcoming hallway. 

You and Crosshair begin to jog down the hallway to the flight of stairs. Clearing the corners, he and you make your way down the stairs and into the hangar. You rested behind some crates of Imperial junk, peering out to inspect the ships.

“I guess any ship will do,” Crosshair motioned with his head towards a shuttle. You nodded in agreement. Slipping around the hangar unseen, you made it to the shuttle undetected. The few stormtroopers on deck were distracted with comms and computers.

“I don’t like this,” you worried again. “This feels too easy, again.”

Deploying the ramp, you and Crosshair make your way into the shuttle. Crosshair slid into the pilot’s seat and fired up the engines. 

An alarm goes off in the hangar bay and troops begin to flood in opening fire on your shuttle.

“I knew this was too easy,” you sighed as you slid into the tail-gunner’s seat. You take aim at the fuel reserves in the back of the hangar and anticipated lift-off. Crosshair takes off and begins flying towards the space barrier exit. You pull the trigger, igniting the fuel in a fiery explosion. Stormtroopers fly and flail in every direction. 

Crosshair punches the throttle and the ship erupts from the hangar bay, just escaping the chain reaction of explosions you began.

—

Watching from above the bay, Tarkin nearly loses his balance as the floor rattles and shifts. He watches an Imperial shuttle escape the bay and blast into hyperspeed.

“Who was that?” Tarkin drawled to an officer standing nearby.

The officer, with his hand to his ear, relayed the incoming communication from the hangar. 

“Sir, it appears we had a visual on the two prisoners from Prison Block E escape on a stolen shuttle.”

“Escaped?” Tarkin echoed.

In a fury, he exited the command deck and entered the elevator alone.

—

Inviting himself into Darth Vader’s chambers, Tarkin openly interrogated the Sith.

“It appears my niece and the clone have escaped,” he emphasized. “I assumed that was impossible because I entrusted you to deal with them.” 

Vader remained silent in speech; his deep breathing echoing. 

Tarkin sighed and turned to leave, but not without a final remark. “Your affinity for the clones is an embarrassment to this establishment.” He paused, then continued, “Their loyalty is to a republic of the past.”

Vader reminisced silently in memories of the Clone Wars. He remembered Crosshair as the specialized clone who had defended his back from droid fire on Skako Minor years ago. Vader was not a merciful man, nor known to be fair, but he did reserve respect for those who earned it. In his mind, Crosshair and he were even. 

“The clones were loyal to me,” Vader mused. 

“And they are no longer,” Tarkin chided in disapproval as he turned and exited Vader’s chambers.

Part 6: Above Pabu (NSFW)

Part 7: if You Wanted To Be

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