#and the patches of fog were moving so quickly through the trees

[theemeraldforestafterdark]

Solstice Mist

[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

[popjunkie42]

The Thief and the Rake

Summary:

“Elain, none of us have a dowry. And the Archeron name, if anyone even remembers it, isn’t about to inspire anyone. You either have to find someone so rich they wouldn’t even concern themselves with a dowry, or someone with money who needs a gentleman’s name to get into society.”   Elain was quiet for a moment. “Or we could marry for love. Someone wouldn’t need a dowry for that.”   The fire crackled in the silence.   “Yes.” Nesta said, clipped. “Or for love.”   Forgotten by all good society, the Archerons receive a surprise invitation from a distant relative that gives the sisters a chance for one single season in London. One single season to lie, preen and attract a rich enough suitor to marry Miss Elain and pull them out of poverty for good. It's a lucky thing Feyre Archeron has perfected the skills of lifting the burden of extra wealth from those too laden to notice a few coins skimmed off the top. Unfortunately for her, the Viscount Rhysand Sterling catches her in the act...and then insists on hiring her for her services. Can the Archeron sisters make it through a London season alive and with their reputations intact?

The Thief and the Rake - Chapter One on AO3

Rated E

Thank you to @witch-and-her-witcher and @wilde-knight for beta-ing and supporting me always!!!

A snippet under the cut!

The winter wood was still and quiet. Mist and fog parted in the wake of Feyre Archeron’s footsteps as she stepped with sly feet around roots and rocks, flexing her fingers to stay warm.

The sun had just started to rise, watery and pale. Feyre knew it wouldn’t be enough to cut into the chill that had already seeped into her bones. And that nothing but a small fire in the kitchen would be waiting for her on her return. 

This winter had been especially wet. The deer were bedding down in secret corners, their scents and steps muffled by the wet leaves carpeting the forest floor. Hiding from her arrows and her empty table.

Feyre had already paid a visit to two local manors that were left empty by the wintering gentry families, scraping what she could from larders and unlocked rooms that wouldn’t be easily noticed. 

But last of the deer jerky had run out yesterday, and she had black tea and a hard tack biscuit for breakfast that hadn’t even satiated her long enough to get out the door without hunger pangs. 

If she didn’t find something today - well. No use thinking on it now, miles deep into a sparse winter forest. Feyre knew better than to let her desperate thoughts wander when she was all alone, and needed to focus. 

A whisper. Mist swirled out of the corner of her eye.

Feyre inhaled as she twisted, an arrow quickly in her hand and nocked to the string of her bow. Quick enough to see a fluffy brown-red tail disappear through the trees and over a small hill. 

The fox trotted away from her and she followed, hiding behind trees as she went, careful to step onto the soft wet leaves littering the forest floor. 

He was a handsome creature, his coat dark sable flecked with the old warm red of summer. 

It was a shame to take him, she thought as he rose above the fog line onto a moss-covered rock, surveying the land in front of him with his nose tilted up to the wind. There wasn’t ever much meat on them, not that she could be picky. But his pelt would fetch something small at market. Enough to risk an arrow. 

At least she and her family would have one more meal, enough to buy a few hours, a day to keep her going to the next fox, or rabbit, or God willing a deer…

Feyre nocked her arrow and pulled back the bowstring across her hollow cheek.

The crack of a twig to her left had the fox curling into fog and mist, and Feyre whirled around, heart racing, bow still nocked to fire.

”Lu!”

Lucien Vanserra’s eye went wide and his hands shot up as he stared down the length of her arrow. His familiar face, one russet eye, one scarred and covered in a small woven patch. Feyre didn’t move an inch. 

Slowly, a mischievous grin spread over his face.

She huffed and put down her bow.

”You just cost me lunch and ten shillings for a fox hide. I hope you’re ready to pay up.”

Unlike Feyre, her friend was dressed for the weather, a well-cut wool coat in hunter green hugging his form and skimming down to his knees, with heavy weather-stained boots coming to meet them. He had a low brown felt top hat that complimented his glistening auburn hair. 

Lucien looked made for the forest, and if she didn’t know him she’d think he was a sprite come to lead her to some sort of mystical adventure. With his vibrant red hair pulled back into a low plait, and his golden skin radiating warmth in between the barren branches, he seemed a creature from her old maid’s tales.

He pulled a basket from behind him, offering it to her with a flourish. “Aunt Susan and the cousins left for a few weeks to visit Uncle Tomas in Bath. I think I can do you all better than ten shillings and invite you to dinner.”

As if on queue, her stomach rumbled. Feyre tried and failed to keep the small smile from her face.

“Got anything for breakfast first?”

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • 

Read the rest on AO3

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[deviljayman]

Darksider - Vampire Fantasy Novel (WIP) Chapter 7 - Magic (Draft 1)

If you want to read the full story, send me a message and I'll link you the document!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arlin felt like a rock, his whole body felt like it was weighing him down. Usually he would wake up right at the start of Fight Night, when the stars were at their brightest. But when that time came, he couldn’t get up, he just didn’t have the energy to fight off his exhaustion. So he just laid there, in that state in between sleep and waking that he spent so much time in. 

But eventually he did wake up, sluggishly opening his eyes to get a look at where they had ended up. The first thing he saw was the sky, the stars beginning to dim as Second Night was beginning. It wasn’t exactly the time that Arlin was used to waking to. They were in a small grove, a clearing in the forest obscured by the surrounding fog. The first thing he heard when he woke was voices, those voices being Leon and Erica seemingly arguing.

“As I said before, I can heal my wounds on my own.” Leon said.

“You can, but you’d also exhaust yourself from overusing magic. With these bandages at least it will heal a bit on its own, then you can do the rest with magic.” Erica said.

Leon seemed to not have much reason to argue back, as Erica was bandaging up the wounds on his back. Just before she wrapped up the wounds, she took out a green ointment that she lightly dabbed on the wound. Leon winced slightly but didn’t make a noise as she continued to patch him up.

“Leon!” Arlin said, getting up and running over to the pair. “Are you okay?”

“I am alright, I just need to heal from our encounter with the Coven Guard.” he said. “There is no need to worry.”

“You got hurt?”

“Yes. Do you not remember?”

“I remember falling when we were running away from them; everything after that is a blur.” 

“You must have blacked out right when you hit the ground.” Erica explained. “When you fell, Leon ran over to shield you and got nailed in the back by two spears. So now he’s gotta heal up.” 

When the knowledge hit Arlin, his face fell into a frown. It was clear just by looking at him that he was upset, not just at what happened but by much more than that. Erica clocked it almost immediately; she quickly finished up Leon’s bandages and gave him a pat on the back.

“Alright big guy, I’m all done.” she said. “You’ve got to rest for a while, so no more overexerting yourself. You got that?”

“Yes, I understand.” Leon said with an unexpected twinge of annoyance. 

“Arlin, how bout we go grab some food while Leon rests? I saw some plum trees further down that way.” she pointed past the treeline. 

“Oh, sure I can help.” Arlin replied.

“Alrighty.” she grabbed an empty bag and flung it over her shoulder. “Let’s go, and don’t try to do anything too straining while we’re gone Leon.”

“You have made yourself clear.” he said. “I will not overexert myself.” 

She waved before heading in the direction she pointed out. Arlin followed behind, looking back to Leon one more time before catching up with her. The fog began to clear out as the two of them walked through it, the path behind them obscuring as they went further in. 

“Is this one of those safe places you know about?” Arlin asked.

“Something like that, it’s a small grove surrounded by a river so the Coven Guard aren’t likely to follow us here.” she explained. 

“River? Does that mean…” he put his hands on his head, making sure he was still in one piece.

“Don’t worry, we found a break in the river to take you through.”  

He exhaled, relieved by the news. “Thank goodness, that would have been bad.”

“I know vampires can’t cross moving water, but why exactly is that?” she asked.

“Well from what I know the currents and flows disrupt the equilibrium of our bodies, or at least that’s how my caretakers described it. The way they made it sound, I thought my arm might fall off if I crossed one.” 

“I’ve only seen it happen once.” she started. “A Coven Guard was chasing me and some people I was transporting. We hopped over a river in the area to lose them, but the guard tried to leap after us. When he tried to jump across something stopped him, and he fell to the ground in a lot of pain. I didn’t stick around to see what happened next.” 

Arlin’s body shivered. “I really don’t want to find out. I’m not sure why it happens in the first place.”

“Well I don’t know a ton about vampires, but I do know a good bit about magic. If I could take a guess, your body has its own flow that keeps you together, maybe the flow of the water interrupts the flow in your body.” 

“I guess that makes sense, I don’t really know a lot about magic honestly.”

“You don’t?” Erica asked.

“No, I never really got it when my caretakers taught me.” he explained. “I actually wanted to ask you about it.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t really know a lot about magic, I keep messing up. If I could learn how to use my magic better then maybe I could be more useful. So I want to ask, could you teach me?” he asked. “You said you were really good with magic, so if you taught me maybe I could at least be okay at it.” 

Erica looked at him, a soft smile coming over her face. “Is this about yesterday?” 

“Yeah. I can’t keep failing like that. Because I couldn’t use my magic properly I ended up passing out and getting Leon hurt. He does so much for me; I don’t want him putting himself in danger because I messed up.” 

“You two care a lot about each other, when you were asleep Leon was talking about the same thing.”

“He was?” Arlin asked. 

“Yep, he thinks he’s been putting you in danger and not doing a good job of protecting you. But you didn’t hear that from me okay?”

Arlin nodded but the thought perplexed him; how could Leon not think he was doing a good job at protecting him? He was doing everything he could and even more than that, there wasn’t much else Arlin could ask for.

“You must have known each other for a while if you care this much.” Erica said.

“Well, actually we haven’t known each other for very long. I’ve only been with him for a few days.” he explained.

“Really? Why are you two so close then?”

“I can’t really speak for Leon but, for me it’s cause he’s the only person who’s actually cared about my wellbeing. No one’s gone out of their way for me before so, I guess I just want to pay him back.”

“And you want to do that by learning how to use your magic better?”

Arlin nodded. “I’m not good at a lot, but I’ve got this power at least. I want to put it to good use.”

“Alright, if that’s the case then I’ll teach you. I think it’s time I take a pupil under my wing.”

Arlin put his hands together. “Thank you so much, Erica!” 

“No problem. Oh, we’re here.”

The two of them came upon a pair of trees bearing fruit. They were small, shorter than the other trees in the forest. Unless you were taking a walk through the forest, you wouldn’t be able to spot them. Their leaves were a deep purple color and around them bloomed white flowers. A sweet scent carried through the air; the plums were ready to be picked. Arlin had just learned he likes sweet flavors so he was excited to try these. 

Erica handed Arlin the bag and began to pick some plums from the trees, placing the fully ripe fruit in the bag. After picking enough for the three of them to eat, she tied the bag shut and took it back from Arlin.

“So.” she started. “How much do you know about magic?”

“Not as much as I should.” Arlin admitted. 

“Well tell me what you do know.” 

“My caretakers described it as ‘the ability to impose your will on the world’ but that doesn’t sound right now. Leon told me it’s a force and what makes up our bodies. Honestly I’m still unsure on what magic even is.”

“Leon was on the right track. Magic is indeed a force, but there’s a bit more to it than that.”

She waved her hand and the fog of the forest parted slightly, revealing more of the landscape around them. Arlin’s senses picked up more of this place– the sound of the river flowing over smooth stones, the wind carrying the pollen and scent of the flowers, the worms carving through the dirt below. He was always aware of the world around him, of all of the life that was there. 

“You want to know what magic is? You’re looking at it.” she gestured to the area around them.

“I don’t understand.” Arlin said. 

“Magic is everywhere, it’s all around us. It’s under our feet, it’s in the air, it’s in everything. Magic is not the earth but it is with the earth.”

She held her hand out, snapping her fingers before a flame sparked in her hand. 

“When we use magic we’re calling it to shape the world, to change and create something new. When your caretakers said that you could use it to impose your will, this is what they meant, just with a bit of aggression on their part.” 

“So magic is a force that you can call on to affect the world?”

“Exactly.” she confirmed.

“Then how do you do that?”

“It depends on person to person. Since you’re a vampire you can use shadow magic, basically using magic to manipulate shadows and give them form. Most vampires I’ve seen call magic with dominance and force, they use their authority to bend magic to their will.”

“I really don’t want to do that…” he said, a bit of apprehension in his voice. 

“And you don’t have to.”

“Really?” 

“Really.” she nodded. “Like I said, the way people use magic differs from person to person, you don’t need to do it like them, you can do it like you.”

Arlin was relieved; all his life his caretakers had told him to demand shadows to bend to him but he just couldn’t do it. It was unlike him to force anything to his will, it was cruel to him. 

“Besides, your magic’s a bit different than any shadow magic I’ve seen.”

“Wait, is it?” 

“Most vampires I’ve seen have only been able to create inanimate objects, like weapons or tools. But you’re able to make living things out of your shadows; I haven’t seen anything like it before. It’s honestly pretty amazing.”

“I don’t think it’s all that great, I can’t make weapons or tools like other vampires.”

“Yeah but most vampires can’t make animals like you can, that’s something to be proud of.”

“I guess it is…” he said, trailing off. “So how can I call on magic? I know it’s unique to each person but what’s the process like?” 

“Well when I use magic I’m usually in a bind; I ask the earth to lend me a hand and help out.” 

“Do you have to ask out loud?”

“Not all the time, but when you want to cast something big, you usually do. It’s called an incantation; big magic like that needs a strong call for it to work.”

“Alright, I think I’m starting to get it.” Arlin said. 

“Another thing to keep in mind is from where you’re calling your magic, cause for you it could come from two places.” Erica said. “It could come from the magic in your body or the magic around you.” 

“What’s the difference?” 

“If you’re drawing from the magic in you you’re drawing from your own reserves of magic, your own energy. If things go wrong you’ll be feeling the brunt of it, like when you fell unconscious yesterday. If you’re calling from magic around you then you won’t have this issue, but it’s much more difficult to get the magic around you to listen if you’re inexperienced.”

“I see.” he said, trying his best to retain all of this new information.

“The reason that you were having trouble before is cause you were trying to call from the magic around you while also trying to force out the magic in your body. That’s not to say you can’t do both; you could call some of the magic inside of you to amp up the magic you’ve already called. It’s an advantage you have as a vampire; since I’m a human I don’t have the option to call from internal magic.” 

“Wait, human? I thought you were a–”

“Nevermind that, let’s stay on topic.”

Arlin relented, but he made sure to save that question for a later time. 

“Give it a try.” Erica said. “Try to call magic to you, in your own way.” 

He nodded, taking a breath to steady himself. Arlin had no idea what he was going to do; whenever he used shadow magic it usually exhausted him. But that wasn’t always the case, sometimes he did it without even thinking. They would just appear, when he felt lonely or needed help, the shadows would shift and move to assist him. It was different from what Erica described, it felt like they answered a call that he never made. 

At that moment, he had an idea. It wasn’t fully formed, but he knew the less he thought about it the better it would turn out. He put his hand out, pointed right at the ground in front of him. First he looked to the shadows inside him, but he couldn’t see much. It was blinding, a viscous muck that he was unable to part. But then he turned to the shadows around him, the ones he knew well. The shadows cast by the trees as the light of the stars passed through their leaves, the shadows cast by the flowers as the wind caused them to wobble in place, and the shadows cast by him and Erica as they were wrapped up in the lesson. 

These shadows had always been with Arlin, following him around the mountaintop and even into the tiny room he used to sleep in. No matter what, they were always there, laying there cast by the light of the world. 

So this time he called, but this time not with words. He was taught another way to speak, a language shared with him by the animals of the mountain. Deep in his body he called out, a howl rippling out of him and into the space around him. He closed his eyes, trying his best to focus on the call, not wanting to lose it. Slowly, the shadows around him began to move, flowing to the spot Arlin pointed to with his hand. They went from flat on the ground to gaining depth, evolving in complexity the longer Arlin focused on the call. 

Erica watched, giving Arlin the space to focus and figure things out on his own. She told him not to strain and he was trying not to, although the effort not to strain took some slight straining. In a flash, the shadows stopped, their movement ceasing entirely. Arlin didn’t want to open his eyes, he didn’t want to see that he had failed in creating anything once again. If he didn’t open his eyes, his fears wouldn’t be real. 

But he felt something– a sensation on his palm, a familiar one. He felt a wet nose press up against his hand, and soon after that something was licking him. Arlin slowly opened up his eyes, still scared that he might just be imagining all of this. But he was not faced with an illusion, but something real and tangible. It was a wolf, a wolf completely made out of shadow. 

“Ah!” Arlin gasped, in shock that this was actually happening.

The wolf brushed up against Arlin’s hand, clearly wanting to be pet. Arlin laughed and of course gave the wolf all the pets and scritiches it could ever want. It was just like a real wolf, one made of wispy shadows but a wolf nonetheless. 

“I did it.” Arlin said in disbelief. “I actually did it.” 

“See? I knew you could do it.” Erica chimed in. 

“Thank you so much Erica, I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“It’s no big deal; besides, we’re not done with the lessons just yet. You still need to practice more to use your magic properly; up for the challenge?” 

Arlin promptly nodded. “I am! Please keep teaching me!” 

Erica smiled and did just that. The two of them trained for a bit longer, Arlin getting used to using his magic faster and more naturally. He managed to conjure a few other animals, a few birds, some snakes, and a couple of rabbits. A wolf seemed to be the biggest thing he could create at the moment. In excitement for this new progress he tried to create a bear but it ended up disbursing before it took any shape. At the failure, Arlin was a bit disappointed. 

“Don’t worry.” Erica reassured. “The bigger effect you want to make with your magic, the more difficult it becomes. You’ll figure it out eventually.” 

With that reassurance, they continued the lesson. After a few minutes, Arlin was getting a bit tired. Thankfully he wasn’t on the verge of collapse for a change, instead just being a little winded after using so much magic.

“How about we stop for now? We don’t want you to get too worn out, we’ve got a big journey ahead of us.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not pass out again.” he said, blankly.

Erica threw the bag of plums over her back and the two of them started to head back over to camp. Once again they walked back through the fog as it parted for them, eventually coming back to see Leon. He hadn’t moved at all since they had left, he was just staring at the path they took to go into the forest. His gaze was focused on it, but when he saw the two of them, his look softened. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting big guy, Arlin wanted me to teach him something.” Erica said.

“And what did he ask for you to teach him?” 

“Here, I’ll show you.” Arlin said.

He put his hands together and he called to the shadows. A whistle went through his mind as a small crow formed in his hands. 

“Ta-da! Magic!” he said smiling. 

Leon looked surprised but he returned the smile. “That is wonderful, Arlin.” 

Arlin’s smile turned somber as his tone shifted. “I wanted to say sorry again Leon; it feels like I keep messing up and causing trouble for us. So I wanted to learn how to control my magic. I'm not that good at it yet but if I keep trying then maybe I can use it to help out.”

“Young one, I have said it once and I will say it again; it is not a sin for you to make mistakes. You are learning from them, which is what you should be doing and I am proud of that.”

“I am trying, I just don’t want to make another mistake. I don’t want to be a burden.” 

“You are not a burden, Arlin. A burden is something that is unwanted, and that is not what you are. It is my job to care for you and I do it gladly, please do not think of yourself as a burden.”

“I’m sorry, I just want to carry my own weight around here. I just–” he trailed off for a moment. “I don’t want you to keep getting hurt.” 

“You do much for us, do not discount yourself. If you were not there we would not have made it out of the city.” Leon explained. “But, perhaps I have been rash with how I put myself in danger. I will do my best to avoid taking unnecessary damage from now on. Would that put you at ease?” 

Arlin nodded. “Yeah, it would.” 

“Then consider it done.”

“Jeez. When he tells you to take care of yourself you listen but, when I say it you get pouty.” Erica yapped, her voice lined with annoyance. 

“I did listen.” Leon corrected. “I have not moved from this spot since you left.” 

She sighed. “Not the point, but forget it; how bout we eat?”

She held out the bag to Arlin and Leon who each took a plum for themselves. Arlin opened his mouth very wide before sinking first his fangs and then the rest of his teeth into the plum as he took a big bite. The flavor was a good bit different from the fig; it was sweet but there was another element to it that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

“Is it to your liking?” Leon asked. 

“It is!” Arlin replied, mouth full of plum. “It’s not as sweet as the fig but there’s something else to it, it tastes, sharp?”

“I think you mean tart.” Erica chimed in. 

“Yes that! I like it.” he took another bite out of the fruit. 

They ate until they felt full, then Arlin ate a bit more and was finished. At this point the stars had dimmed greatly, the sign that they were well into Second Night. Usually this was the time Arlin would be sleeping, but he was still full of energy. The plums and magic training had tried him out a bit but he had just woken up an hour ago, it didn’t feel right to sleep now. 

“I do not believe we’ll be traveling this night, correct?” Leon asked Erica.

“Nope, you still need to rest more so your wounds can heal. Besides, I think it’s a good idea to lay low; the Coven Guard might still be out looking for us.” 

“So what are you going to do?” Arlin asked.

“For now, stay put and rest; like I said this grove is safe so we won’t run into any trouble.”

“Aw man, but I just woke up.” 

“We have a long journey ahead of us young one, you should get as much rest as you can.” Leon advised.

“Yeah you’re probably right.” 

“You don’t need to fully sleep but you should take it easy, so no pushing it with magic alright?”

“Okay okay, I won’t.” 

“What do we have in store for us on this journey?” Leon asked.

“We’ll be heading west, the Silent Sanctuary is right near the border of the Kingdom of Man.”

“That close? Are you not afraid of Latro or Holy Knights finding the place?”

“We’ve taken precautions so that they don’t find us; my teacher set up a few barriers and spells that keep humans out. Unless they’re given a pass like me of course.”

The question that Arlin wanted to ask her again came to his mind, he looked to Leon to see if he had any reaction to it. But when he looked Leon was stoic as ever, it seemed that the knowledge wasn’t surprising to him. Arlin felt like he was missing something.

“Besides.” Erica started. “Latro and Holy Knights aren’t likely to search near their lands for monsters, they wouldn’t expect us to be there. We’re basically hiding right under their noses, it’s the last place they are likely to look.” 

“I understand the logic but it still feels like a risk, but if you have been successful for this long, perhaps there is something I am missing.” 

“Trust me, it works. But regardless, because it’s so close to the Kingdom of Man that means the sun will be a factor. Which means we’ll have to be careful.” she said, glancing over to Arlin. 

“Can I ask a question?” he said.

“Sure you can.”

“What’s the sun like? All my caretakers said was that a vampire dies if they are caught in direct sunlight.”

Erica thought for a moment. “Hm, how do I describe it. Well of course it’s very bright, looking at it for too long can make your eyes hurt. I’d say it’s brighter than even the brightest stars in the sky.”

“That sounds, painful. Even aside from the whole, dying part.”

“Well it’s not all bad, it’s very warm. It’s actually very nice to stand in and take it all in.”

There was a feeling in Arlin’s chest that was new to him, it was like a haze that trickled across him. It was jealousy, jealousy at the fact that Erica could experience this and he couldn’t. He didn’t like the feeling, he didn’t like how it almost made him mad at Erica. 

“I’ll take your word for it.” Arlin said. “I’m sure it’s not all bad.” 

“Regardless, we'll be avoiding it, we’ll be traveling during Second Night. Well, just night for them I guess.” 

“Do humans not have First and Second Night?” 

“Nope, they just have one night. Our First Night for them is what they call day; it’s the time when the sun is out.” 

“So they go to sleep when the sun goes down?”

“Yes, they do.” 

“That makes sense, I wouldn’t be able to sleep with all that light either.” 

“Speaking of rest.” Leon interjected. “I believe it is time we all got some rest.” 

“Good idea.” Erica said. “I think I’m gonna take a really long nap; I’ll see you two in the morning. I mean, First Night.”

She quickly took out a bedroll and got inside, just about immediately falling asleep.

“Will you be getting some rest, Arlin?” Leon asked.

“In a bit, I just want to stay up a little longer.” 

“I understand, but do make sure you get some rest.”

“I will.”

“Good, I will be going to sleep. Good night, young one.”

“Good night, Leon.” 

He as well took out his bedroll and got to sleep, lightly snoring as he got some well-deserved rest. Arlin meanwhile snuggled closer to the fire, the flames flickering and dancing across the wood below them. He thought about the sun, a light brighter than any star. This campfire in comparison was like an ember compared to the bonfire that the sun must be. 

Because of what Arlin was, he wouldn’t be able to see it. If he saw it, he would be dead. That fact didn’t sit well with him; he didn’t like that he wasn’t able to do something through no fault of his own, just because of how he was born. Was that fair? To be denied something that he could maybe have loved? 

He sat with his thoughts, nothing but the sounds of snores and crackling fire to accompany him. He inched up to the fire, putting his hands out to feel the heat on his skin. He focused on it, warmth, the feeling that the sun gave. Arlin thought that he would like to be warm.

[cedarboughs]

Hiking Journal: The West Coast Trail

Day V: Crabshack Blues

September 1

Cribs Creek to Tsusiat Falls

The new month, not that such things had any meaning on the Trail, dawned in a thick fog. We couldn’t even see the Cribs rising at the shore as we packed up the tents. The trees were painted in a gentle newly faded palette, though the myriad flotsam bouys still coloured every branch around the campsite.

When we clambered up onto the rock to trek along the Cribs, leaping sea lions appeared like sleek silver ghosts arcing through the waves.

Please appreciate this video because it took like twenty minutes to upload. And, you know, four days of hiking to shoot, but that’s further in the past right now. The buffering is present.

The first starfish!

The morning trail passed through many small pockets of Ditidaht land. Past the cute cabins of Clo-ose village, along a hard climb, an old sewing machine rusts beside the trail.

Boardwalks and bridges are wonderfully maintained and easy to walk here, or should be, but I guess the sum of kilometres was beginning to wear on me. I faded quickly here, needing what seemed like an embarrassing volume of snacks and rest to maintain the energy to walk. It was a relief to at last see the waters of Nitinaht Narrows.

This tidal connection of lake to sea is more or less the halfway point of the West Coast Trail. A ferry bridges the gap as well as taking people in and out of the village of Nitinaht an hour’s putter inland up the lake if they only wanted to trek half of the route. I would have been tempted, but that was a decision to make after I was full of crabmeat.

The ferry dock also serves the freshest, best, least freeze-dried meals on the whole Trail. A freshwater giant Dungeness crab, the only ones in the world, fished out of the lake within the hour of service, will set a trekker back eighty-five dollars, but when else will you have a meal like this? Money isn’t a real concept on the Trail anyway. We got salmon, too.

While we waited on our order, “Hippie Doug,” who’s been the ferryman for almost fifty years, showed us his photos.

Our table at the crabshack was like a reunion of our northbound group. F—— and S——- were there, along with C—— and another of her fellow Regina nurses whose name I can’t remember and it doesn’t matter since I’m censoring them like a nineteenth-century novel anyway. The “Sema Four” had come up from Portland. Apparently one of the couples who as trying to teach the semaphore alphabet to the other. The Sema Four were staying at the crabshack tonight along with the nurses. It sounded like it would be a good party. Sure, it was forty dollars per tent and the tents would be crammed in side by side on the porch; on the other hand, it was another hard, muddy, inland seven kilometres to the next campsite at Tsusiat Falls.

And that's how the drama began.

Mom didn't want to carry on, but wouldn't insist on it. Dad didn't want to spend eighty bucks on a likely sleepless night. A few scattered words went back and forth, but to no avail. Even tually, newly full of crab energy (at least I was,) we shouldered packs and moved on.

The ferry ride across the channel was nice. Hippie Doug pointed out the fleeing hind legs and tail of a river otter disappearing up the north bank into the bush.

But north of the bank the vibes quickly turned rancid. Mom marched ahead without waiting, checking, or stopping, a passive agressive (though not especially passive) sort of expression of an easily parsable sentiment: you wanted to go, so we’re going, and that means going ceaselessly forward without help or advice or patience, not even where bridges are entirely collapsed down treacherous slopes. No waiting to stick together even to put gaiters on before plowing forth past shin-deep mud patches. When we caught up, it was to disparaging remarks about our speed, and we trudged on in terse bitter silence. I desperately wanted to make peace, but it was hard to find neutral ground. We needed time, but time the way we were going was just making everyone more exhausted.

I managed a few good words of accord before the return to the beach, four gruelling inland kilometres past the crabshack. It was still a long misty beach trek to Tsusiat. Somewhere there, though, we passed the flip of the two sided map. Whatever happened now, and however impossible the first few days had seemed, it was beyond any doubt or question now that we were in the latter half in the trek, going out. From here on or likely earlier, every step no longer took us deeper into the wild, but took us closer to the comforts of the grid.

Some writing says that the “Hole in the Rock” is the most iconic view on the Trail. I don’t know how it ranks personally — it’s not visible from very far away, compared to the wide arc of Carmanah or the slope of the Cribs — but it’s a cool spot for sure. The tide was too high to pass through the south-side surge channel and climb or circle around to the hole, but we could double back from the north and stand beneath the natural arch, nearly lapped by water on either side.

It was a joy to see the coloured tents of Tsusiat down the beach. This is a beautiful campsite tucked below towering sandstone cliffs. Water is collected for dinner boiling beneath a grand waterfall.

[hiccupbutpurple]

Posting it here cause AO3 is having trouble!

Nature Reclaims Us All

Summary: Hiccup believes Viggo is dead and wants to find something to mourn him with (set after shellshocked). Written for Vigcup Week (2023) Day 3: Nature

Warnings Hiccup putting himself in danger, mild implied dissociation (not graphic though), perceived character death, grief/mourning, very minor nsfw ref, angst

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48500101

Hiccup left Toothless behind when he walked into the forest, muttering a half-assed excuse that he was sure no one believed. None of the riders knew what Hiccup was doing when he ventured to the forest. What they did know, was that he needed space, even if The Edge was unstable and molten lava spewed at random intervals.

The forests at Dragon’s Edge were in various states of wellbeing. Some were burnt away or smoking, while the lucky ones kept their lush appearance. Normally, Hiccup loved walking through the trees at sunset, watching the last rays of the day shine off the leaves. This time he chose to walk amongst the blackened shrubs and ash of former foliage. No dragons for him to play with hung around these areas either. He wouldn’t have wanted to play anyway.

His mind and body moved with one purpose and filtered out all the unnecessary details. He stumbled when his prosthetic caught on a rock and flinched later when a brittle twig snapped and crumbled under his foot, but no amount of near trip experiences removed the fog clouding his brain. Hiccup didn’t register the tears that had started to fall either, smearing the smog that had settled on his freckles. His mind was focused solely on flickering his eyes back and forth to search, to catch a glimpse of black hair, spiked pauldrons, belt, or even red accessorising scales. Anything that belonged to Viggo; his body or belongings, anything really. Just something. Realistically, nothing of him would’ve survived if he had fallen into the magma but, like many other things, Hiccup ignored that fact.

The earth trembled underneath him and he felt heat radiating through the air as the ground mere meters away cracked. None of it mattered at all. As long as he found something of Viggo’s, nothing else mattered. So, he continued blocking out anything that stood in his way.

Time flew by as Hiccup walked until eventually, he came out of the decrepit burnt areas and into a patch of forest. That was where his treasure hunt ended. The treasure, was just a small red scale, laying on the ground by bush, innocently oblivious to the carnage around it. Hiccup’s eyes latched onto it. For a second he froze before running and falling to his knees, uncaring of the pain that falling onto rocks brought him. He held the scale up, so it caught the dying light of the setting sun and stared in awe for a moment.

It was far from the volcano. Far enough that it wouldn’t make logical sense for it to be there, even if Viggo hadn’t being completely burnt away. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he reasoned it was more likely to be a random dragon scale. Somewhere even deeper argued that it could signal Viggo being alive. Both of those were pushed away quickly.

He also knew it wasn’t fair to Astrid. He was supposed to love her. He did love her, but for whatever reason Viggo had also caught his interest. He didn’t think it was love, it couldn’t possibly be when Viggo was so cruel, but he’d still fantasied about his adversary when he should’ve been thinking of her. Not to mention Viggo was more than willing to harm her.

‘Fuck. Look what you’ve done to me.’ Hiccup growled at the stupid scale, but the growl cut off, making way for Hiccup’s sobs.

He cried harder than he had the other nights. Toothless had been watching him then, he knew the others had heard him. Now the only ones to judge him, not that Toothless would ever judge him, were the trees, rocks and shrubs. He painted in the ground in tears, dismissing the sting in his throat and lungs as whimpers and small screams stole his air.

He felt pathetic after his tears stopped and he lay panting on the hard ground, covered in ash and snot and tears. The scale was clutched tightly to his chest and once again, numbness took over his being.

The sun had long since set by the time the young man was able to stand but the moonlight led Hiccup to one of the cliffs. His original plan had been to keep the scale but as he walked back to his hut, the static in his brain had lessened and another idea crossed his mind. He knew he needed to let this go. For himself, for Astrid, for the team. He needed to be a strong leader even if the war was over.

He made it to the same cliff Viggo had approached him on. The one where Viggo had traded the dragon eye for Hiccup’s help. It was as peaceful as it had been last time, and he felt as lost as he had that time too. The ocean was to calm for the storm happening within Hiccup at that moment. Much like how Viggo had often held an air of smug, calm confidence while Hiccup was often irritated or panicking.

Hiccup sighed heavily, looking out and wishing he’d let Toothless be here with him. The dragon had supported him through everything. He’d never doubt Toothless would have his back, no matter what problems Hiccup caused. But this was something he needed to do alone now.

He gazed at the scale that really could’ve belonged to any random dragon on the edge and remembered every moment he could. Viggo wasn’t a good person. He hurt dragons, he hurt people, he betrayed Hiccup. Even moments that could’ve been nicer were tainted by tension and belligerence. It was fine to feel guilt, he was no saint though he stayed as pacifistic as he could be, but he knew it wasn’t only guilt that he was feeling. Hiccup shouldn’t want him back. But he did.

Still, he could do nothing to change it. His chest heaved once again, and he almost turned around. Instead, he forced his arm to the air and flung what could’ve been the last remnants of Viggo into the sea. He was just as helpless watching the scale fall into the water as he had been watching Viggo fall. Once again, it was by his own hand, that nature claimed Viggo Grimborn.

- Even though it's not meant to be funny, I cracked myself up at the last line. This was probably the one I had the most fun writing even though I usually avoid thinking about character death. It okay though cause Viggo is alive and well (not really well, but shhh).

Day 4 is gonna be connected to this one, a bit of a look at the gang too!

[scarred-but-still-smiling]

A Sacrifice

But what if... what if it was done for love?

A slightly different take on this.

Pixlriffs was very fond of the hermits; studying them like bugs with Zloy for six years does that to a man, so now they were here on one of his servers, under his watch, he felt a certain level of protectiveness.

So seeing Cub, one of those very people he'd grown fond of, Like That... it ate away at him.

At first, he'd chalked it up to a funny costume, playing fancy dress for an episode or two, but after watching Cub's episode for the recap, that gnawing of fear entered his gut.

The sculk spread quickly, very soon large patches of rot ate away at the overworld in the spaces between empires, at spawn, in the empires themselves, a horrid infection that consumed everything natural in its path.

Every time Pix saw Cub, the sculk had more and more of a hold on him; less and less human skin was visible, less and less of who Cub was was left.

He had to do something.

By the time the sculk had began to spread across The Ancient Capital, Pix was already in the planning stages; when he'd been excavating The Machine, he had found a tome that detailed sculk infection, the risks of operating it that the people of The Capital faced when doing so.

He had scoured every scroll and book that he had found while reinforcing the museum, hoping for any mention of the Evermoore Fog and the spirits that resided within, and he found nothing.

After that, he snuck his way into the Evermoore one night, a talisman of the goddess of the crypt hung around his neck as protection and a clock he had bribed Bdubs into blessing in his pocket in hopes that maybe that would help too.

He found a hollow in a tree a mile or so away from Shelby's home; one with a ladder into a small grotto. The air was thick with fog, unnaturally so for somewhere underground, and Pix held the talisman tight in his hand, muttering a silent prayer, and searched.

He found a scroll, partially damaged, in an urn at the foot of a mural, and while Pix was unfamiliar with the language once spoken in this area of the world, the illustrations were crystal clear in their meaning:

The Evermoore Fog was a collection of the souls of a people that came before, the mural didn't say when, and that they were the people of the ancient cities. The mural depicted an ancient city buried in rubble by giants, the people crying out to the heavens for a help that never came.

Pix looked at the scroll in his hand, the other hand still tightly gripping his talisman; unrolling it would require both hands, and he didn't feel safe letting his grip on the talisman go while still here, and even with it, he could feel tendrils of fog licking at his exposed flesh.

He had to leave, but to transport the scroll safely he had to put it in a scroll case. Which also required two hands.

Pix dropped the talisman on its string, and immediately he felt the fog advance. He could feel it coiled around his throat, could feel it begin to tighten.

With shaking hands, he uncapped the scroll case and slid the scroll in, feeling his pulse race against the constriction as he began to move towards the ladder. The case was capped and in his bag by the time he reached the foot of the ladder, and, with another prayer, he began to climb.

Every step was a labour, like climbing through tar, as the fog fought to impede him, and he could feel it trying to sneak its way into his lungs with every hard-won breath.

Clawing at the dirt, Pix dragged himself out of the hollow, fighting to stay conscious. Rolling onto his back in the mud, whispers of the fog almost screaming in his ears, he grasped for his talisman and prayed, no, more like begged, for the goddess to save him with no result. Perhaps, with how much of a grip the fog had on him, she was too weakened from time to help him now.

In a last desperate bid, Pix pulled out the clock, clasping it in both hands to his chest. "BdoubleO, God of the sun... please... please....."

Suddenly, the sun blazed; a blinding light emitting from the clock in his hands and burned away the fog. Pix gasped, lungs finally able to expand, his head spinning from the lack of oxygen.

Through the thundering sound of his heartbeat in his ears, Pix heard rockets, and someone yelling his name, before he felt an impact next to him. He felt hands under his back and then something soft being wrapped around him before he felt himself rising, someone carrying him.

Breathing heavily, he looked up at his saviour and saw the determined face of Bdubs, eyes focused on the trees ahead, glowstone cloak a beacon and protective aura under the oppressively dark canopy of the mangrove swamp.

It wasn't long before he could smell the familiar scents of Shelby's settlement.

"SHELBY!!" Bdubs' voice boomed, "GET OUT HERE, I NEED SOME HEALING POTIONS, STAT!"

Pix chuckled, "I'm... I'm fine! It's okay! You don't need to-"

"You're pale as a ghost, Pix, you're not fine!" Bdubs said sternly, looking down at him with eyes that betrayed how worried he was. "I saw how bad of a state you were in, you almost died."

Before Pix could respond, he heard Shelby's voice in the distance and her hurried footfalls approaching.

"Bdubs? What's-" She gasped, "Pix!! Oh my god, what happened to you?! Come with me, Bdubs, you can put him in my old bed in the starter hut."

Pix's breathing was much easier now, and the headache had subsided, so once he felt the mattress under him he immediately made to leave.

"Oh no you don't mister." Bdubs chided, pushing him back down. "You need time to recover."

"What happened?" Shelby asked, busying herself with the brewing stand on the crafting bench.

"He was being attacked by the fog." Bdubs said, not letting Pix deflect. "I found him a couple miles out, barely conscious. I'm not sure how, but I had a sudden vision of him in danger, so I flew right over."

"A vision?" Shelby turned around and handed Pix a fresh healing potion, which he reluctantly accepted and drank, "do you have a history of those?"

"Not since coming here."

Pix glanced down at his hand not holding the bottle and unfurled his tightly clenched fingers, revealing the clock still in his grasp. "It was The Lore, Bdubs." He smiled, "you declared youself a god, and the server made it so. It seems you heard my prayer." He handed the empty bottle back to Shelby and swiftly slid from the bed. "Anyway, as much as I appreciate this, I'm on a timer right now. If I want to have any chance of saving Cub from whatever the fog did to him, I have to get back to the capital to try and decode the scroll I found."

Shelby tilted her head, " A scroll? Found in The Evermoore? Saving Cub?" She straightened up, "Show me. Maybe I can help."

Pix nodded, reaching into his satchel and pulling out the scroll case. He uncapped it, sliding out the ancient parchment and delicately unfurling it.

On the parchment was a mix of text and diagrams; from just the images, Pix deduced it was related to a ritual of some kind, and there was one image in particular, near to the bottom right, that seemed to depict an exorcism of sorts.

"You're right," Shelby mused, "this is definitely a ritual to get the spirits out of someone." She indicated an early passage, "This part here says you need a binding circle of holy or otherwise blessed items, artifacts, symbols or substances to bind the possessed person and the one performing the ritual in place." She indicated another, "And this bit here says that the possessed person needs to be either willing or unconscious."

Pix gave her a look, "You know this language?"

"Of course, I've been living here for months now; I've found a lot of old texts lying around, and I also know a spell that lets me understand unfamiliar script. It just took me remembering what the symbols stood for." She turned her attention back to the scroll. "This part though... I don't like this part." She pointed at a passage near to the exorcism image, "According to this, if the person performing the exorcism fails to fully banish the spirits, then they will become possessed instead. However, they can also willingly provide themselves as a vessel in place of the one currently possessed, in which case the spirits may accept their offer and leave their current host."

Pix sighed in relief. "Thank you, Shelby." He smiled softly at her, "I know what I need to do now." He rolled up the scroll and returned it to the case. He looked at Bdubs, "Thank you for saving me, Bdubs, truly," He put the case back in his satchel, "Could you meet me back at The Ancient Capital in a few hours? I'm gonna need a god's blessing for this after all. One last favour?"

Bdubs narrowed his eyes, and Pix felt the other man's gaze go right through him. "Sure thing, Pixlriffs." he said carefully, "see you in a few hours then."

Pix hurried out of the door before Shelby could ask any questions, stepping swiftly through into the nether and making his way to his portal. Stepping out, he jumped from the tower, gliding down to his chests and beginning the process of brewing an invisibility potion. Sneaking up on Cub wouldn't be easy, but the possessed needed to be either willing or unconscious, and Pix didn't reckon the former was an option.

As the potion brewed, Pix began to study the scroll, cross-referencing the translations that Shelby had shared with other parts that she hadn't translated. He learned that, if the exorcism failed, and the person performing it became possessed, not only would the person originally possessed not be freed, there was a high chance of what the scroll referred to as True Death; where the human soul would be consumed and destroyed, and the spirits would possess their corpse. He learned that if the transference was willing, that the newly possessed would be granted, at least temporary, lucidity. He learned that, regardless of how the possessed was freed, they would have only hazy memories of what occured while they were possessed. He learned that, while the exorcism had multiple ways it could fail, transference was always successful. He learned that there was only one way to ensure the freedom of Cub and the rest of the server.

With the potion brewed and his plan set, Pix began his preparations.

He flew over to the Froglight Orchard, detatching the dodos from their leashes, giving each of them a kiss on the beak as he did so, already missing them.

He returned to the museum and climbed to the attic where Joe had been holed up and he used the enderchest up there to take out his valuables shulker. Taking an errrant sign out of one of Joe's chests, he set his shulker down and attatched a message for his new security guard, thanking him for a job well done and informing him that his wages were inside.

He made his way over to Winchester; his darling Winchester. Of all the things of his empire, Winchester would be what he would miss the most.

Winchester nudged his cheek as Pix unleashed him, making his little dodo noise, as if the bird could tell what he was thinking.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, boy." he said kindly, sadness clear in his voice and tears beginning to well up in his eyes, "you'll be well looked after, I promise. You won't even notice I'm gone."

Finally, Pix went into the deepest part of the catacombs and dug a new tomb; a small room with just a bed, and a floor coated with wither roses.

He set his spawn, and he sealed the room off. He was ready.

His comms pinged; Bdubs was outside. Pix steeled his nerves and went up and out to meet him.

When he got there, he saw Bdubs petting Winchester, a small glowing pouch in one hand.

"Hey Bdubs!" He called out, as cheerfully as he could muster, "thanks for this. I assume that pouch is what I asked for?"

Bdubs looked at him, that same calculating glare from at Shelby's place. "Yeah, blessed glowstone to mark your circle with." He didn't hand it over. "Pix, are you planning what I think you're planning?"

Pix could see it in Bdubs' eyes that he'd been rumbled. He smiled brightly, "How would I know? I can't read minds my dude." he held out his hand for the pouch, "Anyway, like I said at Shelby's, I'm on the clock. Kinda gotta get a move on. Thanks again for the glowstone."

There was a tense silence between them.

"Well," Pix said, lowering his hand and walking along the main road to the Great Bridge, "If you don't wanna give me the bag, you can set up the circle above the tomb, at the feet of the goddess. I'll go get Cub."

Shovel strapped to his back, Pix made his way along the bridge, taking in the wonderful monuments to each empire his friends had built.

He reached the midpoint, Hermitopia just in view, and he climbed up onto the side of the bridge. This was gonna be the hard part.

He dove off the edge, trying his best to emulate the form of professional divers, and he hit the water. His momentum took him deep, all the way to the lakebed, and he pushed off, swimming to the surface in the direction of the shore.

As his head broke the surface of the water, he quickly pulled out the invisibility potion and drank it down, feeling his skin tingle as he became invisible as he pulled himself out of the water.

Slowly, so as not to make any noise, Pix made his way up the hill to the base of the hermits' tower, the sound of opening and closing barrels growing louder as he did so.

He pulled out his spyglass and look to see whose nametag he could see and, to his relief, it was Cub. Getting to the top of the hill, Pix pulled his shovel from his back and readied it, carefully approaching Cub.

He couldn't afford to hesitate.

As soon as he was within striking range, Pix swung, bringing his netherite shovel down on the back of Cub's head and sending him to the floor like a sack of bricks.

Slinging Cub's unconscious body over his shoulder, Pix quickly stepped through the hermits' portal and made his way to his own, coming out on the top of his watchtower and enderpearling to where Bdubs had set out the circle.

After laying Cub inside the circle, Pix took off the talisman and gave it to Bdubs. "Look after Winchester for me, okay?"

He knew Bdubs would be too taken aback at the limp body of his friend to protest, so Pix stepped into the circle and took out his bow; punch 2, power 5. If the arrow didn't kill Bdubs, the fall would.

"Thank you."

Bdubs disappeared with a shout of surprise off the edge of the tomb and Pix threw his bow aside, kneeling down and directiing his full attention to the sculk infested body of Cub.

"Okay," he said firmly, "The scroll said you could hear me, so listen when I say this: I, Pixlriffs, speaker for the dead and preserver of this empire, am offering myself to you in place of the man you currently possess."

Cub groaned, it was clear he was coming to.

"Listen." Pix's voice betrayed his desperation, "Cub won't be here forever. The other hermits are, right at this moment, trying to find a way back through the rift. If you want someone to reclaim this land in your name, you need one of us, and you've got me right here."

He could see the sculk spreading out from Cub's body, filling the circle in its entirety. He could feel it probing, climbing up the fabric of his cargo pants.

"PIX!!" Bdubs' voice echoed around The Ancient Captial, and Pix cursed.

"Everyone on this server trusts me, they won't suspect a thing, and they're all already suspicious about Cub. If you don't take this offer, they will destroy you. And if anyone knows what they're capable of, it's me."

Pix could feel the sculk on his skin now, could feel it spreading under his shirt and poking out from under his collar.

It was so cold, like liquid death. He had felt it on his hands many times before, but this was different. He felt it climb his neck, felt it slip into his ears and creep up his face.

As he stared down at Cub, he noticed the sculk on the unconscious man was beginning to recede, and as he did, he felt a cold spike of pain in his mind.

"Your offer has been accepted~"

The sculk surged, and Pix gasped in pain as he felt the the infestation get its roots under his skin, every inch of his body feeling like it was submerged in ice water and he doubled over, clutching himself reflexively. He felt the sculk spread across his face, felt it spread across his lips and into his mouth, down his windpipe, into his lungs. He felt it take his eyes and his world blurred.

The whispers, just like when he was in The Evermoore, filled his mind.

"Pix? A-are you okay?"

With a shuddering, struggling breath, Pix looked up in the direction of the voice.

Cub was awake, and was fully himself, completely free of the sculk.

He smiled, sculk-filled tears spilling from his eyes. "It worked..."

"What worked?" Cub's face and voice were filled with fear, with worry. "Pix what did you do?"

Pix unsheathed his sword. "What I had to in order to guarantee your safety and the safety of everyone on this server."

<Pixlriffs was slain by Pixlriffs>

Pix respawned with a gasp and immediately felt the thorns of dozens of wither roses dig into him.

The whispers in his mind screamed.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

He snarled, every fiber of his human soul filled with hate. "The hermits couldn't destroy you, if they could have, they would have already. I'm taking you out of the equation. By any means necessary."

<Pixlriffs withered away>

<Pixlriffs withered away>

<Pixlriffs withered away>

[summercourtship]

Hi, could you write a nsfw oneshot or something for the Cenobite with a shy and modest fem survivor reader? Possibly include some fingering and using his hands. Thanks if you do!

I'm sorry this took so long, I obviously got a bit carried away. I have such a bad habit of needing SO MUCH exposition even for tiny one shots (or at least what are supposed to be tiny) but I’m not going to stop. I’m also not sure how well I fulfilled the idea of a “shy, modest” reader, but I think I managed to have elements of it without it becoming a stereotypical mess of stuttering and blushing.

summons [nsfw, 18+]

Pinhead (The Cenobite) x Reader | warnings: NSFW, reader could be interpreted as being a virgin but it’s not explicitly stated, I somehow made the Lament Configuration solving erotic (it’s what Clive Barker would want) | 3121 words

It was always unnerving to realize that a killer remembered you. To notice that shift in their expression as they placed your face to a memory, to an action that had made you stick out in their mind. Some killers seemed to remember everyone while others only recognized a select few. Some didn’t seem cognizant of doing either.

Luckily, you had always managed to fly under their radar. Even the killers that had memorized every survivor regarded you with an air of disinterest, preferring to go after the overtly obnoxious survivors (which was probably part of those survivors’ plans- Nea really hated fixing gens). Some could say that it was because you were boring, at least in the way of prey. You didn’t necessarily agree, but if killers thinking you were boring kept you alive you wouldn’t argue about it.

However.

There was one killer who seemed… overly interested in you because of this. Somehow your reserved nature was more intriguing to him than that of the unafraid or blatantly uncaring survivors. You didn’t understand it, but you also didn’t want to.

You didn’t want anything to do with it.

The Cenobite was an oddity among oddities- barely even touching the survivors and treating your suffering with a cold grace. In the few moments you’d been able to observe him, he seemed unaffected by anything, continuing his hunt seemingly without a care in the world.

When you were one of his designated playthings for a trial, you avoided the Box, even if it meant your continued survival. You couldn’t handle the thought of possibly summoning him, bringing the being you knew was somehow fascinated with you directly to your location.

You just did your damnedest to finish repairing gens and move on to the next trial with the usual indifferent killers, taking extra care to stealth when you knew he was coming. Because if he caught sight of you, he wouldn’t stop pursuing you throughout the trial, preferring to torment you than spread the pressure amongst your teammates.

But, despite your efforts, not every trial with him could work out this way, as was the case for the trial you found yourself in now. You had been just barely surviving through your stealth tactics when it seemed that the survivors were rapidly downed, one quickly falling after the other.

You rushed to pull them off hooks or patch them up enough to stand, only briefly hesitating when you felt your own safety was in danger. You pushed it aside, putting your team’s survival over your own sense of sanity. They would eventually pay you back in kind, and the cycle would continue.

But it seemed that luck was not on your side.

One, two, three survivors were all hooked for the last time, their cut off screams piercing the night air.

And suddenly, you were the only one left.

Somewhere, both too close and impossibly far away, a bell tolls.

You’re frozen in place, too on edge to even contemplate searching for the Hatch. You’d been in similar situations before, but this time felt different- it was as if the air was electrified from your nervous anticipation.

And never before had you been left alone with him.

Before long, the consequence of your hesitation becomes clear- the chains that he summons from nothing have started seeking you out, the few that reach you embedding their hooks in your skin. You hiss, jerking back into life and unhooking yourself, trying to be as careful as possible to not rip your skin off.

It would not be the worst pain you have felt in this place.

You set off, struggling through the terrain of the Macmillan Estate until you reach one of the smattering of brick walls that litter the Entity’s realms. Here, at least you would have some protection from the chains, giving you time to figure out what you were going to do next.

Find Hatch or wait by the Exit Gate, hoping he closes the Hatch with enough time for you to slip out? You’re debating the two options in your head, knowing full well it’s not the best use of your time but feeling unable to make a decision and get your feet moving.

You’d just mentally circled back around to the option of booking it for Hatch that you realize you were being observed. And he wasn’t even hiding like some of the others would, no crouching behind the brick or staying by the tree line. He’s simply standing there, as if waiting for you to realize he was there.

You look up at him, wondering how you hadn’t noticed his presence before. He blocks the only other exit from your shelter that isn’t a window, something you note with a growing sense of dread. No prey likes feeling cornered.

But he hasn’t moved to attack, just standing and staring at you. You take a moment to observe him back, noting the impassive expression on his face. He doesn’t move, even once you’d been made aware of him. You narrow your eyes and glare at him, ignoring the thwacking of the chains hitting the ground and walls behind you, already tired of whatever game he is playing, not in the mood to be toyed with.

“What do you want?” You ask, willing your voice to stop wavering. For once, you wanted to seem like the brave, outgoing survivor, willing to stand up to the killer for nothing more than the satisfaction of having done so.

A beat of silence, and you almost think he won’t answer. But he does, and his response is more confusing than clarifying.

“You.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

More silence.

Then, a crackling draws your attention downwards, to the small, unassuming box that lay on the ground in the space between you. The very box you had done your best to avoid touching, even looking at. You wonder, briefly, if it had been there the entire time.

“Solve it.” His voice is commanding yet gentle, coaxing yet sinister. There’s power behind it, a power that isn’t being utilized at the moment.

“No.” It’s an easy answer for you. There are few things you are sure of in the Fog, but not touching anything that belongs to a killer is one of them.

“Aren’t you curious?”

That was not what you had been expecting him to say. Suddenly, you were no longer sure about the subject of your conversation. The Box still lay between you, ready for your willing hands to run along its smooth surface, finding the small grooves that would lead you to further unlocking its mystery. But while you had been focusing on the Box, his eyes had never left you.

Because he knew that ultimately, yes. You were curious, and always had been. About everything, but you’d always been too shy, too afraid of other’s thoughts about you to try anything even mildly risky. Better to stay on the safe side and hear about other’s exploits instead of experiencing your own.

“Yes.” It comes out as a whisper.

“Then…” With a long fingered hand, he gestures to the Box.

Your hands shook as you reached down to pick it up, finding its smooth surface both warm and cool at the same time, its weight heavier than you had anticipated.

You looked back up at the Cenobite, ignoring the faint tinkling of a music box’s tune that you could now hear coming from the Box.

“What do I do?”

You were sure it couldn’t be but so difficult- less intelligent survivors had completed its puzzle under significantly more stressing circumstances than you. But you couldn’t bring your mind to command your hands to begin, some invisible wire holding your muscles back from taking action.

Maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, watching you intently.

He moved closer and you barely resisted the urge to move backwards, your grip on the Box tightening as if afraid he would take it from you. He stopped just before you and reached out, not to take the Box but to guide your hands. But instead of placing his hands over yours as you had anticipated, they hovered barely a centimeter above your skin.

“There is a force in this realm that makes solving the Lament Configuration child’s play.”

You look up at him, wondering if he had just delivered a thinly veiled insult. If he, in saying that solving it should be easy, was implying that you were too unintelligent to figure it out. You open your mouth to begin defending yourself.

“I-“

“You’ve refused it,” He continues as if you’d never started speaking, “even when it is to your detriment. But the Configuration is meant for those who seek to heighten their senses, for sensations that the earthly world cannot provide. Opening it is not supposed to be easy.”

You look down at your hands, at his.

“For those who summon us must be sure that it is what they want, for once we are summoned we cannot leave without a charge. It cannot be helped.”

He places his hands over yours now, guiding them along the edges of the Box (the Configuration, you correct yourself). Your hands are seemingly electrified from where his skin meets yours, though a sizable portion of his hand is covered in leather.

“Here it seems that, although alone, I work under different rules. The Box was made simpler and perverted into a means to assist in feeding this Entity.”

With his guidance, you are able to find the minuscule lines in the surface of the box, pushing and shifting the pieces until they form a completely new shape. But before you are able to push the final piece into place, thus completing the puzzle, he releases his hands and steps back.

“There is no need to finish it.”

You blink, feeling like you’d just woken from a hazy waking dream.

“But why did I do it in the first place?”

“I won’t have to hunt you down the next time we find ourselves facing each other. It is very tiresome when you hide from me constantly.”

He turns around like he’s about to go, either to finally kill you or let you scamper off to find the Hatch, but you aren’t ready for him to leave yet.

“Is that it?” You blurt out and almost take it back when he turns his head, indicating that you have his attention once more. But you swallow your fear and continue on, holding your chin higher. “You just wanted me to solve this box? To what? Prove to myself that I can, so that you don’t have to do as much work the next time you’re going to kill me?”

He whirls around, but there is barely any change in his expression from before. He was near impossible to read, you were quickly learning.

“I don’t get it- if you’re summoned for those who want pleasure or pain or whatever, why are you so interested in me? I don’t want any of that.”

“You don’t want pleasure?”

Your face heats up, any bravery you had felt in delivering your speech gone. You look down at your hands, still holding the almost solved Lament Configuration.

“The rules of this place may be different, but I am still obliged to answer the summons.” His words, at first, make no sense.

And then you realize what he is implying, and your face must be on fire for how hot it feels. If he was summoned for those who want whatever version of pleasure or pain he provided, then you solving the Configuration meant that he could…

Ohhhkay.

You turn from him, fully intending to put the box down and sprint for the Hatch and think about this encounter later at the campfire, but the quiet, nagging voice in the back of your head stops you.

Aren’t you curious?

Before you can rationalize and deny the urge, you act on impulse for once and press the final piece into place on the Box, the tinkling music stopping abruptly.

While you’ve had your back turned, he must’ve crept up closer on you, because you suddenly feel his hand on your shoulder.

You gasp, both from surprise and the sensation of his touch once again on you. He slowly ran his hand down your body, from your shoulder down your arm, before making its way to your front. Your breathing was picking up, hitching in the back of your throat when his other hand snuck around and plucked the box from your grasp. It’s gone when you turn your head to look at it, and you’re too focused on his touch to really ponder what happened to it.

You reach out and press your own hand against the brick wall in front of you, using the rough texture to ground yourself in reality, as much as you could in the hellish purgatory that you were trapped in. But the reality of this moment was that he was touching you in such a simple way, barely vulgar at all, but you felt as if you were being lit on fire with the way his touch seared your skin, even over the layers of your clothes.

His fingers dance over the hem of your pants, toying with the button. You’d always liked that the Entity put you in pants most of the time, their practicality better for your environment than the potential fashion statements you could’ve been making in something else. But now you wish that the Entity had decided to put you in one of the nonsensical outfits the others occasionally donned, if just for the easy access a skirt provides.

Nonetheless, he deftly undid the button and continued his journey down your body, not bothering to even pull your pants down. He completely ignored your underwear, apparently not in the mood to tease you over the fabric. You weren’t complaining, wanting whatever he was going to give you as quickly as possible.

It was now that you fully realized how cold his hands were, which only made you more aware of every centimeter of your skin that he ran his fingers along. Down over your stomach, a feather light touch that was approaching where you needed it the most.

The Cenobite found his way in between your legs with little fanfare, finally exploring the part of your body that, unbeknownst to you, he had thought of whenever he saw you in a trial. He toyed briefly with just running his touch up and down your slit, causing you to shudder and drop your head. But before long, he ended up at that sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking it just to hear you moan. His finger circled around your clit, applying just enough pressure for it to register in your mind but not enough to really scratch the itch that had been building since he’d placed his hands over yours to solve the box.

He was silent behind you, but you didn’t think he wasn’t actively enjoying what he was doing to you, if the way his teasing touches would briefly speed up when you let the little sounds building up behind your lips escape was any indication. Or the way his breathing, though quiet and low, would hitch when you would whimper, groan, hiss.

He finally moved lower, teasing at your entrance. You whimper again, closing your eyes. But he didn’t do anything aside from dipping his fingers in, for barely a second, giving you just a taste of the pleasure you needed. He teased more than you would have expected, but you also wouldn’t have expected him to want to fuck you.

“Please,” your whisper is broken, your mind hazy and unable to compose a more elegant plea. You curse under your breath when he does it again, moving back up to your clit to circle it a couple more times.

“You can do better than that,” He says, and you, in your fuzzy mind, think you detect a hint of humor in his voice.

“Fuck- please.” You roll your hips, as if to entice him to finally get to it. But he holds fast, your (pathetic) attempt to seduce him into giving in to your whims failing. He pauses in his movements.

“Fine! Please, please, please, please fuck me, put your fingers in me, I don’t care just please make me cum!”

You wonder, briefly, in the back of your mind, if the Entity is watching.

Two of his fingers finally slip into you, and you barely hold back a curse, forgetting whatever inane thought you had before. All you could focus on was the fact that he was finally giving you what you wanted, that he was finally done teasing.

He thrusts his fingers in and out of your pussy, dragging them along your walls and hitting every sensitive spot that you didn’t even realize existed within you.

“For such a shy woman, you make delightful sounds,” He mutters, almost too quiet for you to hear over the heartbeat pounding in your ears. Whether it’s yours or his, you cannot tell.

Quickly, much too quickly, you feel your climax approaching, and any sense of the amount of time you’ve spent at his mercy is lost to you. All you know is that he is touching you in a way that makes you feel like no one has ever made you feel and that you want to reach your peak now.

As it builds, you release a litany of pleas, begging with broken words and fragmented sentences.

You finally finish with a sharp, drawn out and shuddering gasp, his fingers curling into the spot that makes your toes curl, sharply punctuating every ripple of pleasure that your body rides.

And then, just as quickly as it started, it is over.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you turn to face the Cenobite, who looks as unaffected as he had before. He examines his glistening fingers not even looking at you when he tells you to find the Hatch. If you’re stung by his sudden disinterest in you, you don’t show it, opting to add it to the growing mental list of things to think about later.

On shaky legs, you comply with his demand, stealing one last glance back at him as you leave him. You had no idea if this would be a one off occurrence, or if he would regularly find his own way to answer your summons, if he would make good on his statement that he is summoned for those who wish for pleasure and pain.

The only way to find out would be to summon him.

___

ao3 link

[katyasrussianaccent]

you're so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You're a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Author's Note: Don't hate me! This was gonna be a cute chapter but then I decided against that. Credit to @moontwinkles for the spilling scene idea. Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

The sound of your alarm wakes you from your slumber with a suddenness. Bleary-eyed, you roll over to turn it off, letting out a small sigh as your body and brain start to awaken. You’re going to meet Corpse. You’re going to meet Corpse. It bares repeating in your mind; the prospect still not quite registering.

You haven’t had the greatest sleep, your mind racing most of the night; skittish little thoughts that had you tapping your toes on the mattress in agitation as you struggled to turn them off. Sunlight streams through the cracks in your blinds, a warm glow painted in stripes on your wall. It was going to be a good day, tiredness be damned.

You get up, stretching your arms out as wide as possible and relishing in the relief as your muscles unclench themselves. There’s a little spring in your step as you walk to the bathroom, to wash your face and brush your teeth. You aren’t nervous as you pick out your favourite outfit, instead you feel excited. It’s funny how little scraps of fabric and thread can impact your mood so much, but you smile at your reflection, the feeling of confidence is nice, albeit rare.

The rumbling in your stomach signals that you need to eat something before you leave. Nothing too fancy, just some toast and a glass of juice. You can feel the nerves start to grow a little, the food sits heavy on your tongue, forcing you to swallow it. You grab your phone, scrolling as you chew. You go onto Corpse’s twitter, smiling at the picture he’s posted.

Out of curiosity, you go onto his likes. You always find his likes interesting; the random things he’s added gives you more of an insight to his thoughts and feelings. You chew the inside of your cheek as you scroll down past girls with perfect skin and bodies; your previous confidence now feels a little misplaced.

Deciding against letting it ruin your mood, you close the tab and go to grab your bag before locking your door and heading to your car. You text Rae to let her know you’re leaving and she replies almost immediately to wish you luck. Sitting in front of the steering wheel, you exhale as you start the engine and begin to drive. This was really happening. When Corpse had asked to meet, you were shocked. While you had discussed it, you had been under the assumption it would be a while before it happened. You just hope you don’t make an idiot of yourself; a tendency you had when you were nervous.

While you love the city, there’s something about driving on the open road. No noise, just the sound of tires on concrete. The scenery remains the same; nothing but trees and the occasional house far in the horizon. You’re meeting him in Santa Barbara; a place you’ve been to once in your life, so it might as well be brand new. It’s halfway between both of you, and while it’s still a few hours drive, you’ve got good music and some sunshine to keep you happy.

The drive flies in and before you know it, you’ve arrived. You’re meeting at a cafe that sells bubble tea; it was Corpse’s recommendation. It’s a charming little place, with white table and chairs on a cobbled patio area. The building itself is white brick, plant pots decorate the window sills and there’s a small crowd of people waiting in line. You turn off the engine, and grab the perfume out your bag, the smell of peaches invading your nostrils. With one last look at yourself, you exit your car and make your way to the cafe.

You’re not sure how you’ll find him, being faceless and all. A quick scan of the people around you, your eyes zero in on a figure dressed all in black, leaning against a wall that’s slightly in the shade. There’s butterflies in your stomach as you look at him from afar, your feet apparently unable to move on their own accord. He stands out amongst the brightly coloured outfits of everyone else, and you can see the sun glint against the chains on his jeans.

“Hi,” you greet, your hand going up to half-wave at him. He’s handsome; pale skin and cheekbones that disappear under the fabric of his mask. A mop of black curls are atop his head, falling out in different directions, and he brushes one off his forehead as he looks at you.

“Hey,” he replies and you smile a little. There’s a thick fog of awkwardness between you as you both take each other in, though trying not to look so obvious about it. You feel under scrutiny as his eyes move over you, and you meet his gaze before you both look down at the ground, a faint blush on your cheeks.

“How was the drive?,” you ask at the same time he does, causing you both to laugh. “Oh. Uh yeah it was good, thanks, how was yours?”

“Yeah it was good,” he replies, his eyes still on the ground.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

You scream internally as your eyes dart around, looking for something, anything to break this awkwardness. It shouldn’t be like this, you have such great chemistry on the phone and online, but there’s nothing right now. Is it you? There’s a niggling in your brain that says he was fine until now; until he saw you.

“We could go, uh, into the cafe? Get some food?” he suggests, breaking you from your self deprecating thoughts. You nod and you follow him to the door. He opens it and you dodge out the way as it narrowly escapes hitting you in the face. Corpse mutters an apology as he walks in, his eyes glued to the ground.

You order together; you get yourself a boba tea and a burger and Corpse does the same. He pays without saying anything to you, and while the day’s isn’t going quite as you pictured, the gesture makes your cheeks warm. You desperately hope it gets better. Maybe you’ve misread the situation and the chemistry you felt you had was just friendship on his part. Friends flirt all the time, and it doesn’t have to mean anything.

Your food arrives and you sit in relative silence as you eat. The times you do speak is stilted, full of one word answers and obvious observations. You go to reach for your boba as Corpse goes to grab salt, and the movement of his hand plus the crampedness of the table pushes your own hand back towards you, knocking the cup all over your neck and chest. Corpse shoots up in a speed that shouldn’t be human, his hand full of napkins as he comes towards you. The liquid is cold against your skin, and you look down to see your outfit now ruined, the fabric sticking to you in wet patches.

“I’m such a fucking idiot, I’m so sorry,” Corpse says, his tone panicky as he dabs at your neck. He continues to dab, his hands pressing at the neckline of your top and if this was another time, you’d feel all fluttery at his hands on your skin. But it’s not, you’re uncomfortable and the day has sucked so far and all you want to do is go home. He discards the napkin onto the table and grabs another, his fingers warm against your collarbone as he presses the tissue. He doesn’t realise that he’s travelling downwards to your chest before he presses once, twice, before retracting his hand back like he’s been burned, the napkin falling to the floor. “Uh fuck, sorry, I didn’t realise I - “

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. “I’ve always wanted apple scented boobs, guess I can check that off my bucket list.” It’s a failed joke but humour is a defence mechanism for you, even if it’s not very funny. Corpse widens his eyes a little, his gaze fixed on the napkin that’s on the floor.

He hands you some more napkins and you clean up a little more. Your skin feels sticky, and you smell of artificial apple; but the apple isn’t sweet, it’s bitter and slightly unpleasant.

“Uh, I should probably go home and get a shower, I feel like I fell into a vat of sugar,” you say, standing up and grabbing your bag.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so clumsy,” Corpse replies. You can tell he feels awful, and while you sympathise, he’s not the one that’s just had almost a full cup of boba spilled on him.

You shake your head, “It’s fine, really. I just feel really gross. Don’t worry about it.” You smile in what you hope comes across as reassurance.

“Let me walk you back to your car,” he says. You nod and walk out together in silence; something you had gotten used to throughout the day.

“Have a safe drive back,” you say as you get to your car.

“I will. Let me know when you get home?” he asks, and you nod.

“Shall do. Goodbye Corpse,” you say, opening the door and waving at him through the window. He waves back and you watch him through the rearview mirror as he disappears out of sight. You feel like an idiot for believing this was going to be good, like you ever had a chance with him. You’d been saying it since the start; that it wouldn’t work, you had nothing in common, nothing to talk about. And you were right. Sometimes you hated being right.

You turn the engine on and sit there for a second, your head pressing against the steering wheel. What a waste of time this was. Grabbing your phone, you tweet quickly.

“Oh well, let’s go wallow in self pity,” you whisper before driving off.

Taglist: @genshinglitter @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @oi-itsemily @letsloveimagines @softforqiankun @evilunicorns4minions @captain-willowwitch @afuckingunicornn @theroyalbrownbarbie @buttersnitzle @officiallyunofficialperson @aha-red @frostbitelokii @butterfly-skinnylegend @sofianunes10 @ghostfacefricker6969 @alienvarmint @helena-way07 @woah2pointo @jasmine2042003 @youhyakuya @adore-holland @hyunjinhugs @finahja @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @only-corpse-hands @remugoodgirl @gowhiteboygo-poggers @open-minded-chip-101 @daveedfanfics @justakpopstans @majasophieanna @mxjetlagcity @strawberrydonkey @meowtella @lizzylynch1 @chesca-791 @anescapefromtheworld @unded-bride @majasophieanna @adorkably @lost--in--the--moon @euphoricseokjin

[ejzah]

A/N: This a follow up to Rescue, per @anonkp’s request. I hope you enjoy the angst.

***

Rescue, Part 2

Kensi dragged them both from the ice, though the snow seemed little better. She’d called the local emergency and Nell, her hands trembling the whole time, from a combination of cold and fear. The ETA was 20 minutes, which was a terrifyingly long time.

Stumbling through the snow, she dug through their bag until she found an extra Northface jacket of Deeks and wrapped it around the boy after stripping off his coat. Both his and Deeks’ clothes were already half frozen. It wasn’t nearly enough but it was better than leaving him in just his soaking shirt.

“Kens?” She spun around, dropping to her knees next to Deeks. He lifted his head a few inches off the ground, entire body shaking uncontrollably and looked around desperately.

“Didn’t, did-didn’t,” he stuttered out, his voice so hoarse and quiet that Kensi had to lean closer. She cupped his hands between her, concern growing as he started to grow agitated.

“Baby, it’s ok. You both are ok and an ambulance is coming. You’ll be alright,” she assured him, gasping in between on the cold air. It felt her lungs were burning and simultaneously crystallizing at the same time. She could only imagine what it felt like to Deeks.

He nodded, letting out a relieved sigh that left a fog of white in the air, letting his fall back to the ground, snow sticking to his icy hair. Assured that he was conscious, Kensi moved back over to the boy.

There wasn’t any place that provided more shelter or at least warm from the air and snow, so she pulled him into her arms. Her coat was half-soaked, but it seemed better than leaving him on the frozen ground. She tucked his head against her side, beneath her coat, and hoped that it was enough. She brushed stiff strands of hair back from his cheek and looked back up.

Deeks had rolled on his stomach and was attempting to push himself up on shaking arms.

“Deeks, what are you—?”

“We need to at least try to head back to the resort,” he replied, dragging in a ragged breath as he staggered to his feet. “There’s no way an ambulance can get down here and who knows long air rescue will take.”

“Are you able to walk?” she asked, knowing that he was right and there wasn’t any point in trying to change his mind.

“I’ll manage.” Accepting that was the best she was going to get, Kensi wrapped the boy up as snuggly as she could. She found a few extra pairs of gloves and shoved them over his hands, the fingers far too long for him. Then she wrapped her scarf, which had somehow survived the water, twining it around his head and face.

“Here, put these on,” she told Deeks, tossing him the last pair of gloves. He caught them against his chest. Kensi pretended she didn’t see how long it took him to maneuver them, his fingers obviously clumsy with the cold.

Then she struggled to her feet, the boy held tight against her chest. He was lighter than she expected, but Kensi knew she would grow tired quickly, especially since he was completely limp in her arms.

Deeks lead the way back to the path, only moving a little faster than her. As they moved forward, Kensi finally registered the cold as the initial adrenaline began to where off. They’d been walking for a few minutes, when Deeks stumbled, narrowly catching himself on a tree stump.

“Deeks!” Kensi moved towards him, even though she couldn’t do any thing to help with her arms full.

“I’m good,” he insisted, resting on all fours for a moment while he dragged in ragged breaths. Kensi could see how much the effort cost him, but he found his footing again and pushed forward.

His movements continued to grow more uncoordinated, his feet shuffling, and catching on snow-covered roots and sticks. The third time it happened, he fell again, landing face first in a pile of leaves and snow. Kensi rushed towards him, heart racing when he didn’t move or make a sound.

She laid the boy down on a relatively clear patch of ground and rolled Deeks over.

“Deeks,” she whispered, cupping his cheeks and feeling for a pulse. It was sluggish and slightly uneven. “Hey, Sweetie, open your eyes.” His forehead wrinkled, but he didn’t show any other reaction. “C’mon, don’t give up yet. We’re almost there.” Licking her lips, she cast a desperate look between Deeks and the boy, judging how long it would take her to carry him to safety and then return for Deeks.

She knew he was her priority; as much as she wanted to care for Deeks first and the thought of leaving him behind killed her, she knew what he would want. Blinking back tears that froze in the corners of her eyes, she shrugged her coat off, covered as much of his body as she could, and cupped his cheeks.

“I’ll be right back, Baby, so don’t you even think of giving up,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his cold, mouth. Pulling back, Kensi pressed her lips together and quietly sobbed as she gathered the boy in her arms once more and started trudging her way through the snow.

There was no sun to warm her like when she’d walked down to the pond with Deeks earlier, carefree and laughing. Just the wind and cold, a constant reminder of how she’d left the most important person in her world behind.

***

A/N: And as usual, I need to write a third part.

[chadillacboseman]

Domestic

Pairing: Sub-Zero (Bi-Han) x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, unprotected sex. It's got some fluff, too, lads.

A/N: I have mental health issues. I know. This is super OOC but I do NOT give a shit.

--

You knew better than to expect any domesticity from Bi-Han.

He was a Lin Kuei assassin and had probably killed more people than you were comfortable considering. Some nights he would stumble in, armor covered in blood, and just collapse on the bed, barely able to shuck the heavy plating before succumbing to sleep.

Other times, in the dark of night, Bi-Han’s cold breath would fan across the back of your neck, and shivers would run the length of your spine. He would move behind you, pull up your nightgown, and gently fuck you in the quiet of the night, his cold body pressed against yours. When he finished, he would place a chilled kiss at the base of your neck before rolling over to sleep.

Even if he didn’t have a mission, he’d be up before sunrise, training his mind and body to be a more effective killer. Before leaving the room, however, he would always kiss you on the forehead and make sure you were covered by the duvet.

You had no idea why Bi-Han had chosen you to see this side of him.

He was a ruthless assassin and had the power to freeze men to the core with his touch. You knew that there were people out there who feared him like a wraith in the dark, and that there were forces in the world outside yours that were far beyond your comprehension.

And yet, here was the mighty assassin, curled into your arms with his armor cast aside.

Vulnerable. At your mercy.

Some nights, you patched his wounds while he sat on the edge of the bed or the bathtub. Although his body healed more quickly than a normal person’s, he could still get infections and even if he’d never admit it, he liked having someone dote on him from time to time.

When Bi-Han spoke of his childhood, it was bereft of any fondness. He had been trained from the time he could walk to be a flawless killer- there had been no loving parent or soft touches to soothe his wounds. He once spoke of a time he had fallen from a tree and broken his leg; his punishment had been to walk four miles before he was allowed to rest.

You wondered how anyone could do that to a child, but chose not to dwell on it. You could give him all of the love and care he had been deprived of in the Lin Kuei training and though he didn’t say it often, you knew he cared very deeply for you.

Of course there were nights when you worried, believing Bi-Han had finally been killed when the clock hit 2am and beyond. When the curling black smoke and cold air finally erupted in your living room, you would run to him, careful not to bump whatever part of his body he was favoring, and kiss his cold skin just above the mask.

--

Tonight was one of those nights for worrying. You watched as the hands on the clock ticked past 2am, then 3am.

You were exhausted.

This was the latest Bi-Han had ever been, and the writhing coil of anxiety was moving like a serpent in your chest.

4:00am.

Your eyelids drooped and you pulled the blanket up over your body on the couch. Sleep was within reach, even through the worry.

4:30am.

You were asleep in earnest when the room grew cold and tendrils of black fog snaked through the dead air. Bi-Han stepped out of the whirling darkness and spotted you, fast asleep, on the couch.

Guilt. He had forgotten what that felt like.

The assassin discarded his armor and scooped you into his arms, making a track for the bedroom with you held tight against his broad chest. It was the chill of his breath that woke you as he set you down in the bed.

“Bi-Han-” you breathed, throwing your arms around him, “I was so worried.”

Another pang of guilt. Foreign territory to the assassin.

“Sorry.”

A weak apology to soothe your wounds- like a bandaid on an open heart surgery. Your eyes were shining in the darkness, brimming with tears threatening to spill down your pretty face.

“It’s okay.” A lie, and a bad one at that, “I’m just glad you’re home.”

Home.

He never thought he’d call a place home- let alone a place he shared with someone else.

Someone he loved. Something he never thought he was capable of.

If Bi-Han’s father could see him now, he’d make him do six miles on a broken leg. He was still a ruthless killer, sure, he’d done things he’d never tell you of for fear of the way it would break your heart.

But he could be soft with you.

He wanted to be soft with you.

In the moonlight, the warrior’s eyes were striking- bright blue-white and laser-focused on you. He hoped you knew how he felt, or even a fraction of it. Just enough to know that he was sorry for the late nights and the bloodstains on your rug. For keeping you up with worry and depriving you of a normal life.

“I am sorry, xīn'ài.” a slip into his mother tongue in the moment, something unavoidable when emotions ran high.

You moved a hand to the cool skin of his face and he closed his eyes at the touch, so delicate and loving, something he knew he didn’t deserve.

“It’s alright, Bi-Han,” your voice was barely more than a whisper.

He moved his mouth to yours and caught your lips in a frigid kiss that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. He wrapped one large arm around you and pulled you into his lap, legs straddled over him, without breaking the kiss.

Bi-Han gripped your hips, sliding his hands up under your nightgown and kneading the tender flesh with his cold fingertips. He broke away from your mouth and trailed chilled kisses along your jawline and down your neck, pausing to suck gently at the skin and eliciting a breathy moan from you.

The assassin fumbled with the front of his under armor for a moment before freeing his cock, rock hard and dripping with precum. You lifted up slightly from his lap and sank down on him, letting out a whimper as he filled you.

“So good, so tight for me,” Bi-Han breathed as he guided you up and down on his length.

You gripped his broad shoulders and let out a low whine, his name like a prayer on your lips as he bottomed out over and over again, splitting you open and putting you back together with every thrust.

You buried your head in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by the sensation of the assassin driving into you. He snaked a hand between the two of you and his cold thumb went to work on your clit, bringing a cry of pleasure from your throat.

“Bi-Han-” you whimpered against him.

“Mmm?” his cold breath brushed against your ear.

You were so close it was unbearable, you felt like you were going to explode. The assassin’s lips practically touched your flesh when he spoke again-

“Come for me, xīn'ài,” he whispered.

And with that, you let out a choked sob and clenched around him, stars erupting in your vision. A few more deep strokes and Bi-Han was right behind you, spilling a burst of cold seed inside you with a grunt.

The assassin let you catch your breath before lifting you gently from his softening cock and lying you down in the bed. You looked so beautiful- skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat and lips swollen from his frost-bound kisses. He laid down beside you and placed his lips gently to your forehead, eliciting a contented hum from you.

Bi-Han trailed his cold fingertips over every bite and red mark he had left behind on your skin, soothing them with the chill of his flesh.

And the two of you fell asleep like that- you felt safe in his broad arms. Bi-Han would never admit it, but he felt safe in yours, too.

[samplingmoonsters]

What if Techno is like a walking heater cause he's from the Nether and Dream who's naturally cold??

Snow crunches under their feet, warm clouds of fog escaping frozen lips, evaporating quickly in the icy air like ghosts. Endless whiteness surrounds the pair, an empty canvas yearning for a splash of color. But there are no colors for miles, nothing but an abyss of white, except for the red cloak fluttering in the wind like the wings of a newborn bird. Not for the first time, olive green eyes find themself staring at the only interesting color since they started their never-ending journey through the north.

He stares at the broad back of the warrior, well aware of the muscles hidden behind the thick fabric. A hog-like snort escapes his companion as the tall warrior lets out a hot gust of wind. Dream’s tired, freezing body jerks at the loud noise. They haven’t spoken to each other for hours, only Dream’s exhausted breath and the snow crunching under their feet filling the silence around them.

Olive-green eyes widen and he stumbles back, almost falling into the snow, as Techno rams the end of his ax into the snow next to him. They stop in their tracks, finally giving the ex-prisoner’s body a precious second to rest after hours and hours of non-stop walking. Dream’s chest rises and falls in a mix of exhaustion and fear as he stares at Techno’s back. Even after spending weeks in a tiny cell together, building a relationship that doesn’t fit into any category but runs far deeper than simple friendship, Dream’s still gets nervous when he’s confronted with the view of a sharp object. A spike of anxiety settles into his chest, his fear rising the longer he has to look at the damn netherite ax sticking out of the snow.

He trusts Techno more than anyone else on the SMP but it is still hard to let go of old fears even after months of recovering in the Piglin's small cottage. Swallowing, Dream forces his body to relax and instead moves his eyes towards Techno’s face. Anything to distract himself from the weapon still glinting in the corner of his vision like a poisonous snake ready to strike.

At one point, Technoblade has turned towards him, ember eyes staring at the lanky blond, “We should search for a place to rest for tonight.” Techno murmurs before picking his ax back up, swinging it over his shoulder before walking straight towards the line of woods surrounding the snow-covered trail.

“Ah- wait for me!” Dream calls after the other man, small feet stamping through the snow like a newborn fawn who is just learning how to walk from their mother.

Away from the trail, the snow is even higher, reaching Dream’s knees and causing the blond to get stuck on multiple occasions. He has a hard time keeping up with the pink-haired man who doesn’t seem to have any problems navigating through the snowy landscape, his thick leather boots keeping him from sinking into the snow unlike Dream’s pathetic excuse of footwear which can’t even keep his feet decently warm. He can already feel his toes starting to freeze off. If this goes on he won’t have any feet to complain about coming tomorrow morning.

If it weren't for Techno's strong hands pulling him out every now and then Dream would be forever stuck in the middle of the woods.

"Be careful where you are stepping." Techno grunts after pulling Dream out of the snow for what must be the tenth time.

Dream grumbles a curse under his breath, patting the snow from the pants before throwing a dark glare at his companion, "I do! It's not my fault the snow is, like-- ten feet high!" He stomps his feet into the snow, his childish tantrum only resulting in him soaking his pants even more.

Dream could practically hear the other roll his eyes, "Don't be dramatic...it's not that deep." As if to prove his point Techno stomps one foot into the snow. The appendage barely sinks into the snow. But all too soon Techno’s attention is stolen away once more by the distant howls of wolves. The warrior grips his ax tightly, red eyes jumping around the trees, searching for any potential danger while he waits for Dream to stop sulking around so they could start moving forward again.

Dream lets out a huff, seemingly indifferent about the continuing howls. He knows that Techno will keep him safe, so he doesn’t even bother taking out the dagger hidden inside his dark-green coat. It’s not like he would be any good in a fight. Ever since they escaped the prison, Dream quickly realized that his hands would never be able to truly hold weapons of any kind anymore, not with how much they trembled and shook. He’s happy that he could hold a cup of tea without spilling hot liquid everywhere, and hey, he can even hold a spoon without too much of a hitch.

Small progress as Techno would say.

And maybe, with a lot of training and patience, he would even be able to hold an ax again one day.

Though, that dream is rather blurry for now. Let’s rather focus on re-learning how to use a knife and fork for the moment....or Techno would have to help him cut his steak forever and that’s just fucking embarrassing. He already feels like a helpless child 75% of the time when it comes to holding anything.

Which also includes not being able to walk on snow like his companion.

Fucking piglin hybrids and their natural ability to walk over loose ground.

"...that doesn't prove anything. You-you're used to walking through snow." Crossing his arms, Dream glares at a random patch of snow near Techno's left foot. Now that they have stopped moving, Dream can feel the unbearable coldness sinking into his already half-frozen skin. Dream hates to admit it, but he does have a low tolerance when it comes to low temperatures. All his life, he has lived in hotter regions, places where the sun never stops shining all year round, and where hurricanes and heavy storms are a monthly concurrence. But now, he's forced to live in a snowy biome, far away from the sun, where it never stops snowing and the nights are long.

Dream couldn't remember when he last felt truly warm. Even in the safety of Techno's beloved cottage, there's still something cold lingering in his chest, freezing his body from the inside...

Maybe that's just his trauma showing his ugly head... Nevertheless, Dream really missed lying among the flowers, grass tickling his cheeks while he let the sun heat up his body.

And while the prison had been warm, unbearable so, the warmth wasn't the same as the feeling of sun rays on his freckled skin.

Ender, when was the last time he had worn a crop top? Felt like a billion years ago. He couldn't even wear cute outfits in this shitty weather. Fucking Antarctica...

Yearning for an outlet for his building frustration, Dream angrily kicks a small pile of snow, accidentally spraying Techno's face with the powdery substance.

For a second the woods go deathly silent as if the trees themselves could feel the tension rising between the rivals. The two men stare at each other, a silent battle taking place. Techno's narrowed red eyes promise unbearable pain, causing Dream to fidget nervously.

If there is one thing Dream hates more than raw potatoes it's complete silence. He remembers a time when silence didn't bother him. A time when he could linger in his base far underground unbothered by the pure quietness surrounding him, even enjoying it. He was used to being alone, doing his own thing, a lone wolf some would call him, but after the whole prison thing...Dream began to hate the sound of his own voice, the silence that would linger after he screamed his lungs out either from hours of torture or talking nonstop to his own reflection in the lava.

Yeah, he would much rather listen to Techno's monotone voice for hours, all day long, if it means he wouldn't have to listen to his own scrambled thoughts.

"Uh...Tech--"

Before Dream could finish his sentence his feet suddenly left the ground as his tall, lanky body was raised from the snow. The blond squeezed his eyes tightly, expecting to be body slammed into the cold abyss for revenge but instead, he felt a pleasant warmth surrounding him from all sides.

Fluttering his eyes open he's met with the sight of Techno's broad chest. Jerking his head up he stares at the piglin but the other is ignoring him, red eyes stubbornly looking forward as they continue their way through the foggy woods. Green eyes focus on the warm puffs of air escaping Techno's pink lips, the way his sharp tusks glint in the faint light like hidden daggers, and how his red eyes seem to sparkle brighter than the ice crystals littering the ground. This close, Techno's beauty is almost otherworldly.

Truly the God of Bones and Blood.

And now the God is carrying him. Carrying him bridal style while curling his precious red cape around them both.

Dream's cheeks quickly catch on fire at the unexpected turn of events.

Forcing himself to relax, he leans his cheek against Techno's armored chest, almost jerking back in surprise at how warm the other feel even through the thick layer of metal.

Oh Gods, Techno is burning, a steady warmth spilling from him in waves like a dying star. With the cape curled around them, keeping the cold air away and trapping Techno's body heat, Dream feels like he's sitting in a furnace.

A very soft, grumpy furnace.

He almost forgot how warm Techno is. When they were still in prison Dream didn’t really notice Techno’s abnormal body heat. Back then everything, the air, the water, the obsidian blocks, was hot to the touch. Soon Techno’s body heat just turned into another source of heat in the already stuffy cell.

Now, Dream welcomed the warmth.

For what feels like the first time in months, Dream feels the coldness leaves his body.

Letting out a sound that comes close to a purr, Dream leans back against Techno's chest. With his cheek pressed against the other’s armored chest, he can clearly hear Techno's strong heartbeat. The steady sound pulls him into a placid state where each one of his problems and haunting memories leaves his mind for a little while until all he can feel is the vibration of Techno's heart and the strong hands holding him up.

Protecting him.

"Just so you know, if the wolves decide to attack us, I'm throwing you into the snow." Technoblade's monotone voice drifts through the blurry edges of his mind, almost throwing him out of his serene bubble.

Not wanting to leave the peaceful corner of his mind just yet, Dream cuddles deeper into Techno's chest, successfully ignoring the Piglin's warning.

Above him Techno let out a long, tired sigh, yet, the hands around his waist are pressing him closer, a silent promise to shield him from any upcoming danger.

With a small smile on his lips, Dream lets himself sink into the peaceful abyss, the sound of Techno's heartbeat guiding him. He falls asleep to the familiar lullaby of Techno’s heartbeat.

And so, far up in the north where the sun rarely shines and the snow never stops falling, the blond warrior found his own sun to warm up his broken soul.

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

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for weeks! Sorry that it took me so long, dear anon! I hope you like it!

[pedros-mustache]

loquacious

summary: you’re not normally this expressive.

word count: 2k

warnings: smut (18+ or i will fight you): protected sex (not specifically mentioned), kinda sorta cockwarming, dirty talk, .2 seconds of cumplay, breeding kink if you squint. also: language, x fem!reader.

a/n: there is no plot, but i very much enjoyed writing this prior to my three hour thesis presentation tomorrow. v much would enjoy smoft sex with ezra. also: sorry mom

it’s simple, unrushed this time. 

so often you find your lovemaking with ezra to be born out of frenzy, a need to expel pent up energy after a grueling scavenge. it is rough and dirty and, yes, thoroughly enjoyable, but decidedly unromantic. though there are moments in which he gazes at you with pure adoration amidst the throes of pleasure, that adoration is quickly replaced by a cavernous sort of lust that never seems to dissipate until you are both spent and sated.

this evening, though—this evening, tucked away in your rented room, you are away from danger, away from deadlines, away from everything but the warmth of one another.

and ezra is taking his time.

he sits on the edge of the bed (a bonafide mattress with a luxurious comforter and two pillows!), his feet planted firmly on the floor. you sit on his lap, his length firmly sheathed in your tight core, your arms around his neck, face bent in the crook of his neck as you move slowly against him. your own legs squeeze tight around his hips, drawing him ever closer.

it’s a reprieve, this moment. a reprieve from thirty cycles on an inhospitable moon with other prospectors on your tail and too few resources to go around. you’d gotten the job done, though, and the buyer paid handsomely for all your trouble. 

now, ezra fulfills his softly spoken promise of eighteen cycles ago. he’d promised you rest, a break from the hard work and a moment to catch you breath before moving on to the next job. noxxo seven isn’t the warm, sun-drenched planet you’d hoped for, but it’ll do the trick. so long as you’re with ezra, any place is just fine by you.

the room he’s bought for the next few nights is unique. it feels more like a replica of a pod than a traditional room. oval in shape, complete with white walls and thin carpet, the layout reminds you somewhat of an egg. soft blue lights emanating from the baseboards do little to counteract the gray permeating every corner of the room. noxxo seven’s atmosphere—a thick, heavy cloud of fog—is inescapable, and any sunlight attempting to shine through the veil merely bathes your room in a colorless soft of haze. trees smack against the singular window, pushed by the rushing wind. there’s a storm somewhere outside; you can hear rain pelt the roof of the building. 

everything—the fog, the rain, the dim lighting—pushes you closer to ezra.

neither of you rush to find release. tonight is about the journey. it’s about savoring the feel of ezra in his naked humanity and him exalting in your divine aura. (his words, not yours.)

ezra’s hips barely rut beneath yours. his arms are wrapped tight around your back, his mouth drawing wet paths from your lips to your neck to yours breasts and back again. he can’t be bothered to move faster, to truly thrust in and out, and you really don’t care. the stretch of him is enough for now. 

you sigh, tilting your head away from his neck when his mouth finds your nipple. raking your fingernails through his hair, you smile when he mumbles something against your sweat-slick skin.

“always talking,” you whisper. you swivel your hips lightly, and he grunts in approval, pulling away.

he catches your eye, and you still, trapped in the warmth of his gaze. “i would never be able to exhaust all the writing utensils in the universe were someone to task me with recounting all the ways i adore you, little bird.”

you lift a hand and cradle his chin between your thumb and forefinger, leaning in for a kiss. his lips are soft, his mustache ticklish. you linger in the feel of his mouth on yours: the way he lets you set the pace, humming against your touch.

then he adjusts his feet on the floor—perhaps to get more purchase, perhaps because he’s lost feeling in his toes. whatever the reason, the movement drives his cock a little deeper, a little closer to that one particular spot, and you gasp, clenching around him.

ezra chuckles. “you like that?”

you nod, and he moves again, this time with purpose. one hand comes to grip your hip, the other splayed along the small of your back. he thrusts once, twice, three times. each time you mewl in pleasure. you drop your forehead to his shoulder as he slows once more.

“kevva, erza,” you breathe. you dig your nails in the muscle of his bicep. 

he just snorts in amusement, thrusting upwards again. his pubic bone brushes your clit, and you keen, eyes rolling back in your head.

“shit. you’re so—” you press your lips together to stop yourself.

ezra’s fingers squeeze your hip. “what’s that, my love?” he bucks beneath you at an erratic pace, setting you on edge, uncertain of when or where the next pulse of his cock will strike. “do you have something you’d like to say with those precious lips of yours?”

before you can respond, he kisses you, his mouth a messy slant over yours. he pulls away, gasping for breath as he continuous the slow, torturous drag of his cock in and out, in and out.

your throat seizes, and you lift your head from his shoulder. your mouth falls open on a silent moan. “you just...” you gasp and shudder, shaking your head.

“what is it?” he prods, tone gentle. “tell me.”

he’s egging you on, you know. he can see the way the words sit on the tip of your tongue. he knows you well enough to sense the feelings mounting in the pit of your stomach that you shove down time after time. 

talking—that’s his thing. he’s good at it. no matter the subject, the time, or the place, he can wax poetic. you, on the other hand, aren’t as eloquent. you cannot paint pictures with your words the way he can. you cannot make him crumble with just one phrase the way he does you. so you keep quiet—especially during sex. you cannot compare to him, so you don’t try.

“tell me, bird,” he whispers. he presses his palm to the side of your face. “let me hear you.”

and with one emphatic thrust, he unlocks the floodgates. 

gripping his shoulders, you toss your head back with a wanton moan. “fuck, ezra. you’re so big.”

his hips stutter. he groans, his own forehead dropping to your clavicle. still, he continues pushing in and dragging out. you lift your own hips to help the movement. the evidence of your desire—your love for him—pools at the base of your joined bodies, and you whimper at the sight.

“you fit me like a fuckin’ glove.” you wind your arms tight around his back as you grind against him. “every time you fill me, i think i might burst.”

he growls, pushes a little harder, a little deeper.

“just like that, baby,” you whisper, unable to stop yourself from speaking it all, telling him every thought that floats through your lust-clouded mind. “you’re good with your fingers and even better with your tongue, but fucking fuck—i want you all the time. like this, any way, i don’t care. i just love the feel of you and—” you whimper again. “touch me, ezra. ‘m close.”

ezra remains silent as he removes the hand from your back to press his thumb against your clit. he rubs the nub in sweet, gentle circles, and tears spring to your eyes.

“oh shit, that feels so good.” 

if it is at all possible, you press yourself tighter against him as you clamor for your release. your hips move wildly against his, his fingers now rough against your clit. he huffs in your ear, and the sound drives you mad.

you can feel it rising like the tide in your stomach: the clench, the fluttering, the ultimate burst of pleasure.

in an instant, you clamp down, crying out against his shoulder as you come. ezra just keeps going, leading you through your high until you begin to settle.

then he moves.

in one fluid motion, he has you pinned to the mattress, one leg flung over his shoulder. sweat drips from his forehead as he drives into you, deeper still at this new angle. the sound of skin against skin brings a flush of heat to your cheeks, and you grip his arms for support.

you lift a hand to smooth back the little patch of blond hair clinging to his forehead. “fuck me so good, baby,” you mumble, the outline of another orgasm slurring your words.

he comes without warning, a guttural groan tearing through his throat as he releases inside of you. the feeling is enough to send you over the edge once more.

for a moment, as you both regain your breath, he lays his head against your chest. you hold him, your eyes fluttering shut as you swallow past your dry throat. 

“i can hear your heart beat like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings.”

you startle at the sound of his voice. it’s been—what?—quite some time since you last heard him speak. a new record.

you don’t say anything, and he pulls out, moving to sit on his knees. he grunts at the sight of your mingled juices spilling from your core. with two long fingers, he scoops what he can from the bed and slips it within you.

you laugh and wiggle against the feel of his fingers. “what do you think you’re doing?”

he looks up through his lashes. “merely putting my seed where it belongs.”

satisfied, he goes to the fresher and returns with a damp cloth, wiping you down. he smirks and lifts an eyebrow as he works, his touch languid and unhurried. “you are quite loquacious when you want to be.”

“you are quite tight-lipped when you want to be.”

“i must admit your words stunned me to silence, which is a rare occurrence, as you well know.” he pauses his ministrations, meets your eyes. “but i would go to the pits of hell and back to hear you speak like that again. i would let my tongue be cut from my mouth if it meant—”

rising, you shut him up with your mouth on his. you kiss him until your lungs scream for air. you pull back, your hand pressed to his knee. “i’d be upset if you lost your tongue. it’s one of your greatest assets.”

“so i’ve been told.” he squeezes the curve of your ass, and a line of concern appears between his brows. “you must use your words, dear one. i long to know every thought that crosses your mind, especially when i am sheathed inside of you.”

you run your hand along his chest. “even if i’m not as... pretty as you are?”

he shakes his head. “i have never seen someone so illustrious.” 

“i mean with my words.”

“your words are like honey, each one a magnificent drop in its own right, but electrifyingly sweet when swirled together.”

laughing, you fall to your back against the comforter, reveling in the silky fabric against your bare skin. “ezra, you should be a poet.”

he lowers himself to your side and runs his fingertips along your stomach. “only if you remain my muse.”

you circle your fingers around his. “always.”

outside, the storm rages, but inside, you bask in the moment of peace. in a few day’s time, you will be back in the field, working once more for rich men willing to pay for your skill and effort. but for now—for now you lie nestled against your love, desire sated, unyielding affection coursing through your veins.

you snuggle closer to ezra, and he slips his arms around your waist, drawing you to his chest. 

tomorrow’s worries can wait.

[ruinouss-archived]

     Mud clung to her boots as a thick fog rolled in from the recent storm. Thick clouds blanketed the night sky, patches opening to allow some star and moonlight to filtered through on occasion. It was easy to see why so many people avoided the old plantation and rumors of a phantom or maybe something else quickly began circling rapidly among the surrounding towns. New to the area, she was desperate to find work with the local hunter guild and had been tasked with hunting and destroying the phantom to bring some peace of mind to the people.

     What she didn’t know was the hunters were well aware it was no mere ghost haunting the old grounds. Not looking for any new members, especially someone as young as her, they were quick to send her to her doom. What was worse than pissing off a supernatural creature? Being extremely under prepared for one of the higher class ones. 

     As stealthily as she could, she moved deeper into the plantation land, shoes suctioning to the wet ground. It wasn’t long before she eventually spotted movement. Without any animals around it was safe to assume it had to be the ghost. Pressed against a tree, she peaked around and spotted the phantom. It appeared more solid than most but how the moonlight was cutting in and out it was difficult to be certain. And so she went against her better judgement and quickly opened fire, waiting for it to dissipate in thin air.

Plotted starter for @x-danse-macabre-x​     

[tomurasprincess]

Fairy Ring (Kurogiri x Reader)

Summary: You enter the realm of Faerie despite every instinct telling you not to, in order to save the life of your sick sister. But you make a mistake far greater than you can even imagine when you catch the attention of a truly powerful, dangerous Fae. Pairing: Fae Kurogiri x Reader Rating: Explicit+ Warnings: Fantasy AU. Noncon, dubcon, aphrodisiac, drugging, manipulation, coercion, stalking, yandere. Word Count: 5.5k Note: My entry for the BNHarem Discord collab! The theme this time around was fantasy AU, and I stepped out of my usual characters by trying Kurogiri. The full masterlist can be found here, so make sure you check out the fics from all of  Special Note: Thank you to @thewheezingwyvern for being my fae lore expert, I could not have done it without you. And also for talking me through 7AM induced sleep delirium.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

This is a mistake, you know this. This is, in fact, one of the biggest mistakes you may ever make in your lifetime, assuming that you live past what you’re about to do. But you know that you have no choice. Your sister’s life depends on it. And for her, you would do anything.

And so with a deep breath, you step into the fairy circle. You feel a tugging at the core of your being before white hot agony lances through your bones. You think you scream, but you can’t be sure as you briefly lose consciousness.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

It feels like hours before your eyes open again, but in all likelihood it was mere minutes. It doesn’t take long for you to realize that it worked.

You’re in the Realm of the Fae now.

There’s a sense of unreality, a haze that makes you feel like you’re dreaming. Everything seems too bright, colors that don’t seem like they should exist in the real world, and what looks to be a purple mist covering everything you can see.

You’re standing in an open clearing, right on the edge of a large forest. Behind you, there is a large lake that looks so inviting that you just know something is lurking below the surface, waiting to pull you under, never to be seen again.

The forest doesn’t look much better, trees so close together that it feels claustrophobic, making it very hard to see anything that would approach you. You have no idea what kinds of things might be lurking inside, but this might be your best bet to find the specific plant you need to cure your sister.

And then there is the swamp that you see in the distance. The mud looks thick and deep, as if it would suck you right down into it so that you can do nothing but wait to die. The fog is so dense that you doubt you’d be able to see much beyond the reach of your arm, and in the depths of it you see pretty, flashing lights.

Will-o'-the-wisps, spirits that deliberately lead travelers off the paths to their deaths. If you go into that swamp, you worry you’ll never leave, doomed to wander around without ever finding the path back out.

Before you can come to a decision of where to go, you hear a strange whooshing noise behind you. You turn around to see something totally unexpected. A purple opening rimmed with black around the edges appears in the air as someone steps out of it. A portal, you realize, and so this must be -

He’s a very tall, slender being wearing a well tailored and expensive looking suit. But where a human face and hands should be is a swirling purple mist instead, leaving you no idea of what he looks like underneath. He has piercing yellow eyes that seem to bore right into the very core of your being.

“Welcome, human. May I ask what brings you to Faerie? We have very few of your kind coming here, and even less who come willingly.” The Fae speaks in a perfectly polite tone, but you know that doesn’t mean you can let down your guard. Everything and everyone here needs to be treated as dangerous.

“Greetings,” you nod politely. “I am here for a certain plant that I need to find.”

“Hmm, I may be able to help you find such a plant. What’s your name, human?”

Ah, you think to yourself, the very first trap the Fae intend to set for you. You know what can happen when you give a Fae your true name, and you have no intention of falling for this one.

“You can call me the Seeker.”

The Fae’s eyes seem to glimmer with amusement.  “Cautious, are you? Very well then. I am called Kurogiri.”

He parrots your phrasing back at you, which means that it’s not his true name either, and nothing you can use against him.

“If you don’t wish to deal with me, then by all means, continue.” He takes a simple step away before motioning to the forest. “Were you intending to go into the forest? I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

The fact that he is deliberately leading you into a certain direction makes you reconsider where you intended to go. He notices your hesitance and gives a soft laugh. “I am not leading you astray, human. The forest is treacherous, and that you can be sure of.”

You ponder your options for a brief moment, before deciding to listen. At least with the swamp, you know one of the dangers you’ll face right off the bat. With the forest, there is no way to tell what you’ll stumble across. “I believe I will take the swamp, actually.” You give him a respectful nod as you take a few steps away from him.

“Please, be my guest.” He motions you in the direction of the swamp. You keep him in your sights as you walk past, worried that he’ll attempt something when your back is turned. But he makes no move to follow or stop you, and so you turn your back to him completely as you take your first steps into the swamp.

It’s very slow going, as the muck is so deep that you have to stop to pull your shoes out every few steps. The will o'wisps are hovering around everywhere, looking like delicate, beautiful lights showing you the way out. It’s a deception that you don’t let yourself be lulled into, deliberately choosing the paths where it is darker. Your world narrows down to simply taking a few steps, clawing your way out of the mud, looking for the plant you need, taking a few more steps, over and over. But nothing ever seems to change, and you seem to be getting no deeper into the swamp.

Finally, you can move no further, and so you stop to catch your breath. You’re exhausted, sweaty, and covered in mud and brackish water. You find a nearby tree to lean against and close your eyes for several seconds, trying to take deep breaths in and deep breaths out to calm your racing heart.

But when you open your eyes again, the wisps have surrounded you completely. There is no clear path anymore, the entire swamp cast with brilliant purple light as they fly around the area. You try to think back to the way things looked before you took a break, but everything is hazy in your mind.

You’re lost, with no idea which path to take to get out of this swamp, or even go back the way you came. Picking a random direction sounds like a horrible idea, but standing here and doing nothing sounds even worse. So with a deep breath, you pick a path and start to follow it.

Everything seems fine at first, passing through terrain not as difficult to traverse, but it quickly becomes apparent that this was not the correct way when you hit a patch of deep, thick mud and begin to sink in. You let out a startled shout, trying to claw for purchase, something to stop your head from being pulled under. But there is nothing, no way to get yourself out. Just as only your head and raised arms are visible, you feel something grab your wrist and begin to yank.

The strength behind it is unbelievable, and you’re out within seconds and looking at the face of your rescuer. The Fae Kurogiri is very hard to read, but you think he seems to be laughing at you.

“You seem to have lost your way, little Seeker,” he muses as he raises his arms up. You’re surprised when you feel a solid pressure against your cheek, running down along your jawline to cup your face. “Why not simply give in and make a deal with me? I could tell you where this plant is, easily.”

“And what would your price be?” You stare into those yellow eyes, a challenging tone in your voice.

“That would depend on exactly what you’re willing to give up, now wouldn’t it? Let us leave this swamp and we can discuss price and terms.”

Alarm bells ring in your head at his words. There is something very off about this Fae, something telling you that making a deal with him would be to your detriment. Maybe it’s his overly polite tone that seems to hide darkness underneath. Maybe it’s the fact that he is still gripping your face, pulling you tightly against him in a possessive hold that makes you feel like he never wants to let you go.

He must see your refusal in your expression, because his grip against you tightens imperceptibly before finally releasing you and stepping away. He makes a motion behind you, and you turn to see a portal opening up, with a view of the clearing that you came from on the other side.

You make a move to go through the portal before realizing something. Your backpack that you have been carrying with you this entire time is gone. You glance around quickly in all directions until you see the very top part of it sink completely within the muck that almost did the same to you. All of your supplies were in there, including the most important thing of all.

Your food and water.

Kurogiri lets out a deep chuckle at your panic. “Ahh, I see you lost your supplies. I could help you with that, as well.”

Your eyes meet his yellow ones as you narrow them. “You saw my backpack sinking, didn’t you?”

His silence is answer enough, and you shake your head and turn towards the still open portal. You go through it with him close behind and find yourself exactly where you expected to. Right at the beginning.

Remembering his words about the forest, you glance over at the massive lake and the faint sign of land on the other side. Your instincts scream at you that there is something horrific lurking within the forest, but you also really don’t want to swim.

“Before you go, you may want to hydrate yourself. The lake’s water is poisonous for humans such as yourself to drink.”

He holds a water bottle out towards you, and you simply cross your arms. “You must believe I’m incredibly stupid if you think I intend to drink that.”

“You will not believe me, but I am simply trying to help you. I don’t want to see you injured or wanting for a single thing.”

You glance back down at the bottle of water. It really does look good, you think to yourself. And you realize now how very thirsty you are. Would it be so bad if you took the water? You snap yourself back to reality before you can reach for the bottle, taking several steps back. “That is a kind gesture, but I must decline.”

You’re at the water’s edge now, glancing over to the land you see on the other side. You know of too many dangers that can lurk within bodies of water, and you have all but decided to skip the lake altogether when you see it. A beautiful looking flower on the other side, That could be it, you think to yourself, and it doesn’t look too far to attempt the long way around.

You begin to walk around the shore’s edge, not getting very far before your curiosity gets the better of you. You glance back at the clearing to see if Kurogiri is there or not. But he’s already gone, like he was never standing there at all

You turn back and continue to follow alongside the shoreline, setting a slow but steady pace so as not to wear yourself out. You’re not out of shape by any means, but you still don’t want to push yourself overmuch. As you walk, you try not to discourage yourself by staring at the land you’re heading for.

With the sun beating down on you and sweat pouring from your face, you truly begin to regret the choice of not taking the water Kurogiri offered. It could really be of use right now, with your tongue feeling like sandpaper in your mouth. Even worse, you’re starting to feel dizzy, occasionally stumbling forward before regaining your balance at the last second. Things are still fine, you try to reassure yourself, but you realize the extent of the trouble you’re in when you glance to the other side of the lake. You must have been walking for what feels like hours, and it’s not a single bit closer.

You turn back towards the direction you came from, only to have a moment of horror when you realize that you don’t see it. To that side is nothing but open shoreline as far as you can see. How could the land behind you have disappeared completely? You finally lose your calm, beginning to panic as you start to run, hoping that you’ll reach your destination soon. You only succeed in wearing yourself out even further, forced to stop as you pant for breath.

But that’s when you see the flower from earlier, looking even closer than you thought. That’s it, you think to yourself in elation, that has to be the plant you’re looking for. It isn’t so much farther, you could easily make it. But as you begin to walk again, your head swims even more, going completely hazy. You sway on your feet, barely keeping yourself up. When you open them again, there’s a horse standing by the side of the water.

It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? To ride the horse, get the plant, and then get back to the clearing where you started? It would be so quick, so easy. And then all of this would be over, your sister would be cursed, everything would be fine -

You come to your senses seconds too late to stop yourself from grabbing the horse. Well, not a horse anymore, at least not really.

It’s a Kelpie. Travelers have always been told to avoid Kelpie near the water, so as not to be pulled down into the depths. And you just grabbed onto the back of one.

You try and pull your hand off the creature, but it’s too late. Your hand won’t budge and you have a moment to curse your stupidity before you’re dragged into the water. Despite your best efforts not to panic, you still do, accidentally taking gulps of water into your burning lungs as you jerk and kick in an attempt to get away.

You’re going to drown, you think to yourself as you thrash about in the water, you’re going to drown and there is nothing that you can do about it, all because of your own stupidity -

Just when you think you’re going to drown, everything stops. You’re suddenly laying on solid ground, choking and sputtering as you take gasping breaths. You lay there for a few long minutes, simply gathering your bearings before you glance up at your rescuer. You know who it’s going to be, and you are proven correct as you see Kurogiri’s towering form lowering down beside you. He pets the back of your head, as if you were a dog that needs comforted, and coos soothing words at you.

“You’re okay, my little seeker.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “You truly should have known better than to try and ride a Kelpie. I can protect you, you know. Just talk to me for a bit, and I’m sure we can make a mutually beneficial agreement.”

You fly up from the ground, wrenching yourself a bit away from him. “No agreement,” you shake your head. “You want something from me, and I can’t figure out what.”

Kurogiri gives a long sigh. “I tire of this game. Things will go so much better for you if you let me help youl. But don’t misunderstand me. You will make the deal, one way or the other. So you may as well give in to me now, my little human.”

His demeanor has become different than before, more impatient and more annoyed. All of the alarm bells in your head are ringing, and you find yourself running towards the forest before he can say anything else. You are instantly surrounded by thick foliage, and as you glance back into the clearing to see if you’re being followed, the Fae and the portal are both gone.

You push through little by little, making your way deeper into the forest. Occasionally you have to make your way backwards to find another way forward, as the way is blocked by trees or thick vegetation that doesn’t quite look right.

You hope the instinct that you’re being led a particular way is wrong. But you have learned to trust your instincts, especially when it comes to the Fae. So when you emerge suddenly into another open clearing with Sluagh flying around, you’re not overly surprised.

You are, however, terrified.

The Sluagh are well known for their sadism, said to be feared by even Death itself. They are skeletal looking, so thin that there is barely any meat on their bones. What skin they have is dangling and loose, and their legs end in talons with razor sharp claws. Their mouths smile at you, filled with rows and rows of vicious, sharp teeth.

And right now, every single one of them is staring at you like you’re a delicious meal, waiting to be devoured. You know it’s useless to run, as they will find you even more enticing if they are able to chase you down. So you simply stay stock still, waiting to see what the creatures do and desperately hoping that they’ll get bored of you and fly away. But of course, that’s not in the cards for you.

In unison, they let out a shriek that sounds like nails down a chalkboard, causing you to cover your ears in agony. At least five of them rush you at once, and you brace yourself for the pain. But it doesn’t come, as the creatures lock their talons into your clothes instead and begin to lift you into the air.

Fuck, you hiss to yourself, you knew this may be suicidal to go into Faerie. You have faced so many of Faerie’s challenges and only survived by the help of one of them, and you knew it must only be a matter of time before your luck ran out. But you had no idea it would end this way, to be lifted up and dashed on the hard ground below. You squeeze your eyes closed when you feel them let you go, and you brace for an impact that never comes.  Instead, you hear the distinctive whooshing sound before and fall into the arms of Kurogiri.

“I did tell you not to go that way, didn’t I?” His voice has a dark amusement to it, and you realize instantly that he knew the Sluagh were there and didn’t think to warn you directly.

“Yes, you did. And your assistance is appreciated,” you say carefully, fully aware that this is yet another trap. You never tell one of the Fae thank you, as they can take that to mean any number of things you’re suddenly obligated to do for them.

“You are welcome, my little seeker,” he chuckles to himself, sounding every bit like he knows exactly what you’re doing. “Will you accept my deal now? I can help your sister if you would only allow me.”

You squirm a bit in his arms, fully hoping that he gets the hint and puts you down, but he squeezes down as if he never wants to let you go. The thought worries you, there is one thing that worries you even more.

He knows the plant is to cure your sister. And you never gave him that information.

“I - I will think about it, if you’ll kindly let me go - “

“Ah, of course.” He sets you down on your own feet, and you finally get a chance to look around. He teleported you back into the same clearing where you started from and keep managing to return to. “Now, about the deal -”

Before he can finish his sentence, you are running in the only direction that you have yet to try. It’s another smaller section of forest that you hadn’t considered because it looked impenetrable. But now you see a way to enter, and you flee there without glancing back. The trees there seem to suck you in, darkness enveloping you. You wonder if he’s still somehow watching you before shaking the idea from your head. That way lie madness, and right now you must run, must hide.

You don’t know how long you run, only that your legs almost like rubber, barely able to carry you anymore. Your breath comes out in gasping pants as your lungs struggle to take in more oxygen. And your head is spinning, most likely from your lack of food.

Just as you’re about to reach your limit, you spot a large, wrought iron gate and a large house beyond. You don’t have any time to consider the implications before you’re rushing through the gate, stopping only long enough to lock it before you reach for your last resort. You’re not sure why there’s an iron gate here, as iron is one of the things that the Fae are joined together in their hatred of. But right not, you don’t care as long as it can protect you.

Just as you suspected, Kurogiri portals to the location just outside of where you stand. But rather than be deterred by the iron, he lets out a loud chuckle as he continues to walk to the gate. Your eyes widen as he gets closer and closer, a sense of deep unease crawling up your spine.

The Fae hate iron, you tell yourself, he’s simply bluffing, he’s not going to be able to get past the gate. And then the lock simply drops away, as if it’s nothing. The gates slowly slide open as he walks through, and there seems to be a look of true admiration in his eyes.

“That was a very good try, my little human. But ultimately, you lose our game.”

It all clicks into place at once. “You - you’re a dullahan,” you whisper in fear. The dullahan are widely feared, and for good reason. They are harbingers of death, and it is said that when they stop, a mortal dies.

“Yes, I am. And now there is nowhere for you to run. Simply give in to me”

You realize you have one single card left to play, and if this doesn’t work, then you are done for. You reach into your back pocket where you stowed your ring before entering the swamp earlier. You hold it up to him to see, and smile when you see him recoil from the gold metal. You turn and begin running again while he’s distracted, only to run face first into a portal he opened back up.

When you fall out of this portal, you are no longer in Faerie. It looks like home, just as when you left it before. Nothing appears different, except for one big thing. Your sister is out of bed, looking like she’s never been sick a day in her life.

“Is that - sis, is that really you?” You whisper in shock at seeing your sister, healthy and happy before you.

Your sister gives you a warm smile as she holds her arms out for you, just like she always did when you were kids. You grin and run into them, giving her a tight hug that you don’t ever want to be let out of.

“I don’t understand, I didn’t actually make a deal.”

Your sister gives her characteristic shrug. “I don’t know either, I just know that I felt something really warm come over my body, and suddenly I felt better.”

It must be Kurogiri’s doing, you think to yourself. You have no idea what you did to earn this, or maybe it was just that he was impressed you beat him at his own game? Either way, you won’t take it for granted. “How long have I been gone?”

“Too long. I was so worried about you, I didn’t think you’d ever come back.” She pulls you into another hug, and you smile as you run your hand down the back of her head. The moment is ruined by the sound of your stomach growling, causing you both to laugh. “Bit hungry, there?” She teases you, and you simply grin.

“Yeah, I ran out of the supplies I took to Faerie and then I lost my whole backpack. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had anything, to be honest.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get you something!” Your sister runs off the kitchen to grab you some food. “Um, I’m sorry that we don’t have much, but -”

“I know, you haven’t been able to go to the store without me. It’s okay!” You take the simple sandwich she offers you, wasting no time at all before you’re devouring it. You didn’t realize how truly hungry you were until right this second. And this is easily the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted. You freeze, blood running cold as you hear an amused chuckle from beside you, where your sister was just standing. A decidedly male chuckle.

You look down at the mostly eaten sandwich as you begin to tremble, dawning horror hitting you like a freight train. Beside you, what you thought was your sister has turned into Kurogiri. What you thought was your home has turned into that same damnable clearing.

Despite your best efforts, you were tricked after all. You never truly left Faerie.

And you just ate fairy fruit.

He pulls your trembling body tightly into his as he runs a hand down the small of your back. “My little seeker, don’t feel too bad about this. You did a rather good job of avoiding my tricks. I had to resort to more extreme measures.”

A tear runs down your face as he strokes your body. Forcing you to eat fairy fruit means that you’re trapped here with him now, forever. Completely defeated, you numbly allow him to lead you through the newly open portal, taking you to the house with the large gates. The place where you believed you won this little game, only to realize that he was always one step ahead of you.

“But the gold -,” you whisper, “I had the gold, why didn’t that work?”

He laughs a bit as he kisses you. You’re surprised that he’s able to, but you assume he must have some form of human body underneath the mist. “Not all myths are true, little seeker.”

He takes you into the house, leading you down several corridors until you reach a bedroom. He leads you in, shutting the door behind him. You have only a second to worry before he’s on you. Lips run down your neck as hands come down to grip your ass. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, how long I’ve planned this.”

He rips your clothes off easily, piece by piece, until you’re shivering and naked before him. He lays you down on the bed, sliding his tongue skillfully into your mouth and massaging yours with his own. His hands aren’t idle either, tracing up and down your body in featherlight touches that has you writhing.

Everything seems almost dreamy, and you feel very warm. Overly warm, in fact, and it only increases the more he touches you. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your head spinning. You wonder briefly what he did to you, if it was the faerie fruit you ate.

“What did you do to me,” you whine as you continue to squirm on the bed, fire raging through your veins. “I feel - god I feel so hot, make it stop.”

But when his tongue licks up your heated, dripping pussy, you realize that it really doesn’t matter what the answer to that question is. You throw your head back and moan as you try to grind down on his tongue, and you feel rather than hear his laughter as it sends pleasurable vibrations against your throbbing clit.

“Don’t you want me to make you feel good?” He slips two fingers inside of you, curling them upwards and grazing against a spot inside you that has you throwing your head back onto the pillow.

“Yes,” you whimper, sounding more needy than you ever have in your life, “please make me feel good.”

“Your name then, little human. I can’t very well pleasure someone whose name I do not know, wouldn’t you say?”

“But what about yours?”

“You give me yours first,” he sounds so imminently reasonable that you give him a blissed out smile as you nod your head. You make a come hither motion with your index finger and he leans in closer as you whisper your name in his ear, and he gives a contented laugh as he works his fingers inside of you again.

“You didn’t tell me yours,” you whine a bit in protest.

“Mmm, I am Kurogiri, remember?”

You do remember him saying that, but you also remember not believing that to be his true name. But that part seems less important than him working his fingers inside again, and you let out a small gasp as you clench down, only to be left feeling empty when he completely withdraws. You’re about to complain when you hear him unbuckling his belt.

“I would much rather feel you cum around this cock,” he whispers as he sinks into your aching pussy, filling you up completely when he bottoms out inside. You let out a deep groan at the stretch, and the burning sensation you’ve been feeling since you ate the fruit abates just a bit.

And then he begins to move, and desire flares back up inside you. It doesn’t take long for your muscles to tense up, toes curling as you squeal when your orgasm overtakes you. “So sensitive,” he whispers as he simply fucks you through it, groaning when he feels you clamp down around him. “And so needy for me. It makes me want to keep you like this all the time, my pet. Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant as you feel another orgasm building up, “Kurogiri, please keep fucking me, it feels so good.”

”My good little pet,” he grabs your hand and guides it to your throbbing clit. “Stroke that clit for me.”

You instantly obey, moaning loudly as you begin to rub tight circles on the swollen bead. You clench down around him as you cum again, liquid gushing out to soak the bed beneath you. His movements slow as he reaches his own end, filling you up with hot ropes of cum before instantly getting hard as he begins to fucki you again.

You lose all sense of time, only aware of the burning desire, and the twitching and thrusting of Kurogiri’s cock as he fills you up again and again. You can’t seem to stop cumming either, pushed beyond your limits and blissed out until finally all you can do is lay there and take it as he continues to ravage you.

Finally it’s over, and he collapses beside you as he pulls your back into his chest. “My precious little pet,” he whispers into the back of your neck. “I worked so hard to get you where you are now, into the realm of Fae where I could claim you.”

“And now you’re mine. Forever.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Tags: @ichor-and-symbiosis, @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @ttamaki, @lildreamer93, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @chou-maitresse, @shoutogepi, @togasknifes, @kingtamakimurder, @shigaraki-is-my-master, @kittycatkrissa, @dabilove27​, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra​, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock​, @yumeneji​, @reinawritesbnha​m @sawamooora​, @yanderart​

[pcttrailsidereader]

A Hiker, Bikers, and the Brady Bunch: Kindness on the Trail

Year's ago . . . well, 1981 to be precise . . . while walking the Washington PCT, we came across the grave marker of a long-time ranger with the following epitaph inscribed: "There are no strangers in the mountains, only friends you have not met." Dave Baugher's story, not far from site of this old grave marker, epitomizes that epitaph.

By Dave Baugher

"Chief, it was you!" Carol exclaimed as the Brady Bunch moved in on me from all sides, grinning with broad smiles. At that point, lying was useless, especially after drinking beers with the biker gang outside. "Yes, it was me," I openly admitted to the bit of trail magic provided at the Kracker Barrel Store in White Pass, Washington. Don't understand this situation? Let's go back to the story's beginning, five days before…

Mosquitoes were everywhere, miserable, to say the least. A series of stagnant ponds in assorted sizes and colors provided a perfect nursery for the insects. We hoofed it past these areas as fast as possible, trying to avoid the annoying biters. However, the buggers descended upon us every second we rested in a droning fog. When we finally decided to stop for the night, our first job was to start a small, smoky fire to provide some relief from the buzzing bastards as we set up camp. The smoke helped abate the pests. Yet dinner was a poor affair, and we called it a night, quickly ducking into our tents. In the fading light, with clouds of the forest vampires buzzing our tents, I heard something. What was that? Laughter and merriment?" Impossible, I must be hallucinating," I quietly reflected as my eyes slide shut for the night.

The following morning, awakening to the faint steel, blue-grey light, I thought about the trip. I was hiking the 250-mile section from the Oregon/Washington border at Cascade Locks to Snoqualmie Pass, Washington. For the first one hundred miles, close friends Mike and Patrick had joined me for the adventure until White Pass, where they would say goodbye and head back home. It was our sixth day since leaving Cascade Locks. Those first six days had been burdensome; we were plagued by clouds of mosquitoes and feet troubles, and Mike had a poorly fitting pack traumatizing his back.

With the morning sun glinting through the trees, I felt optimistic about the day. We were heading towards the Goat Rocks Wilderness; hopefully, the hordes of winged vampires would finally be left behind. We stretched, broke camp, and merrily headed down the now bug-free trail. Ahead was fresh water and a spot to prepare for the remainder of the day's hike. Breaking from the forest, a meadow beckoned us with filtered sunshine, verdant green grass, lush shrubbery, and patches of flowers.

Near the water was another group sitting off to the side in the cool morning light near a bank of trees. We said a merry "hello!" as we stopped to fill our water bottles. The group greeted us quietly and then got up and left. We counted six hikers, five women, and a single young man. They disappeared up the trail, and I thought, "Was that the group I heard last night? Could they have fun together with laughter and merriment in this mosquito hell? It couldn't be this troop. A happy group of hikers not affected by the buzzing misery?"

We knew today the trail had a consistent upwards grade for the first several miles, and it would be a morning grind to get to the top of the distant, looming ridge. So, as we got ourselves ready, Patrick exclaimed, standing up, "This will take some Guns N' Roses to get to the top this morning!" He fist-pumped as he put on his earbuds and took off. Mike and I shrugged and returned to the trail, pondering onwards.

Mike limped and lagged; soon, I was hiking upwards alone in silence. An hour later, the constant grade had me sweating freely, and rounding a bend, I spied the group of six lounging and laughing in the shade alongside the trail. I greeted the group. The young man, who introduced himself as 'Zane,' told me Patrick ran by them about 20 minutes ago. Zane commented as Patrick passed, "Wow, he's moving fast!" Patrick overheard him; he turned around and said, "The secret is Appetite for Destruction!" Then he turned back and kept going without missing a step.   

Zane looked at me and asked, "What is Appetite for Destruction?" This brought chuckles from the group, and I introduced myself, "My name is Dave, but on the Pacific Crest Trail, I'm known as 'Chief' where are you guys heading?" The group's matriarch introduced herself as Carol. She said they would be camping at Walupt Lake tonight, and the family was on a five-night backpacking trip together. The other four girls were quiet as Carol and I chatted, with Zane sitting by his mother's side.

Finally, I bid the group farewell and happy trails as I prepared to continue. A quick glance down next to Carol's backpack, I noted an open bag with a cornucopia of medical vials inside. Heading onwards, I wondered what the story was with Carol and the family and whether I would ever hear their story or meet them again. 

Continuing towards the conifer-covered looming ridge, I found Patrick lounging along a beautiful creek a few miles later, "How long have you been waiting?" I asked. Patrick replied, "about half an hour." He had really burned through the miles in a short amount of time. Guns N' Roses really seemed to work. Now he had to wait for the old guys to catch up. We chatted about the morning and life and waited for Mike to arrive.

After a bit of time, we heard feet coming along the trail. Looking up, we expected Mike, but it was the two younger girls in the group. They dropped their packs and cooled off downstream. Soon, the other two-woman showed up and joined the first pair. Their laughter and chatter drifted over the humming of the flowing water. We said hello again and asked where they were all. One explained she was the older of four sisters; she lived in Portland, and the others lived in North Carolina. Their mother had arranged for the group to come out and hike this area together. "Mom has been dealing with issues, and she wanted to get the family together," the older girl said," so we all flew out. I set up this hike for some quality family time. It's important for Mom," she inferred importance without explanation.

"Well, that's a special adventure your group has going; best of luck! " I said, eying Mike coming down the trail. I moved back up the creek to Patrick, and as soon as Mike had cooled his feet, watered, and snacked, we headed northwards. Zane and his mother had not appeared on the trail, but we said goodbye to the four women and wished them the finest experiences on their adventure. Once we were out of earshot, Patrick said if hiker groups had trail names, that family would be called the 'Brady Bunch.' We all chuckled at the joke and continued onwards.

There were few hikers seen on the trail in this section. However, the night before, we were to climb to the infamous 'Knifes Edge,' we were camped below Cispus Pass near the river for the night. An older hiker walked by our camp; he had no backpack, just a couple of water bottles bouncing on his hips and an ivory-colored shirt covering his narrow frame.

We would find out later that we were wrong about that gent. Passing without saying a word, he walked by with an easy gate, and after an hour, he returned, going in the other direction. "He must be camped back up the trail," we mused as the sun went down and the gentlemen disappeared into the evening light.

It was one of those weirdly beautiful, subalpine nights with a fat crescent moon floating about our camp and snowy peaks. The wild flare of the Milky Way banner streamed across the blue-black sky. Laying in my tent, I thought about the Brady Bunch, the lone hiker we saw that evening, and how the hike had gone thus far. Hopefully, the mosquitoes were behind us, and nothing but adventure ahead. 

The next few days were magical. The mosquitoes abated like a prayer answered, and Goat Rocks welcomed us to a fantastic show of vistas, waterfalls, and green alpine fields covered with spring wildflowers' rainbows. It was colors, colors, colors. Greens, blues, and flaming yellow. The tinted ivory of bleach wood, the smoldering scarlet of mountain heather, and the sapphire glints of many small lakes dotted the bare vistas of grassy meadows. We spent hours taking pictures and marveling at the scenery. At one point. Mike said, "I was nearly moved to tears over the views and vistas." I quietly thought, 'That might have been the pain from your feet,' but I kept my mouth. And most of all, we were having a magical time. 

Our last day together was Friday, July 15th, and we saw this mysterious hiker again. We stopped to chat and introduced ourselves. "Icebox, that's my trail name," he said, "if you see my white Honda in a parking lot, you will find a cooler filled with drinks near the front bumper." Asking about his hike, he informed us that he was day hiking the PCT, parking his car, walking 10-15 miles one way, then returning. The following day, walking the other direction. Then, he would move on to another access point. "Got to get going," he said and left, those water bottles bouncing on his hip. 

"That's one crazy dude. Can you imagine day hiking the PCT out and back twenty to thirty miles every day while sleeping in your car?" I did have one more opportunity to speak with him again after Mike and Patrick returned home. 

Our final camp was near the top of the White Pass Ski Resort. Cell service was excellent; we made phone calls, looked up the latest news,  and made arrangements for tomorrow. Patrick spoke to his pregnant wife (my daughter Katherine), excited to get home as this was the last night of his trip. And Mike talked with Maureen, his friend who would be picking us up at the trailhead along Hwy 12 tomorrow morning.

With the sunrise, we packed and walked down the trail to the PCT trailhead next to Highway 12. Maureen was there in the parking lot waiting for us. I spied the dusty, white Honda, and yep, there tucked under the front fender was a styrafoam cooler filled with cool drinks. Cold beverages were shared, and pictures were taken. I got a piece of paper out of my pack and wrote a note to 'Icebox,' Thanking him for the trail magic and hoping to see him again, signed 'Chief.' Tucking the note under the windshield, I turned, and we packed into Maureen's car.

We drove one mile up the highway to the White Pass Condo complex, where a unit was reserved for our group for the next two nights. We make a quick stop at the Kracker Barrel store for recuperation supplies. Introducing ourselves to the clerk 'Barb,' she quickly explained the use of the washer and dryer for hikers.

The accommodations were perfect! Our boots came off, cold beers were shared, and stories were told to Maureen. It was a glorious afternoon. We sat on the deck and basked in the views.

Mike and Maureen were chatting away, and with Patrick in the shower, I decided to go and wash my dirty clothes. I was ready for another adventure by changing into my cleanest shirt and shorts. Walking from the condominium to the Kracker Barrel store, I thought about the past 7 days of hiking with Mike, Patrick, and all the folks we met along the trail. This had been a great first half of the trip for me. Still, from here onwards, I would be traveling alone for the remainder of the journey after everybody left. A zero-rest day would be fantastic, an entire day without hiking. But could I stay still that long? I mused within these thoughts as I entered the Kracker Barrel store.

Walking to the cooler, I grabbed a cold beer and walked up to the counter. The clerk, Barb, smiled and pointed me to the rear of the store, where the washing and drying machines were located. The laundry was tossed in, and a cleaning cycle started. "Hmm, what to do now?" I thought, "What a great time to enjoy a cold beer out in the sunshine!" I thought. "Can I give you my credit card and start a tab for me?" I asked, and Barb replied, "we do all the time," replying with a quick smile. So, I handed her my credit card and turned to head outside to enjoy some sunshine at the store picnic table.

Looking out at the highway, then further up the road, I spied them; it was The Brady Bunch walking down the highway in single file towards the Kracker Barrel. "Hey," I thought, "What a fantastic opportunity for some Trail Magic!" So, I ducked back inside the store and told Barb, "There is a family of 6, 5 women and one young man, coming down the road to the store. Whatever they purchase, I want you to put it on my tab, and please don't tell them it's me. " "No problem," said Barb with a wry smile and quick wink. 

I ducked outside and circled clockwise around the store as the family came in through the front. I kept out of their sight as they entered the store. This was turning out to be a heck of a fun day! Sitting at the long sun-weathered table around the corner was a couple dressed in motorcycle leathers. Their beautiful, chromed bike gleamed in the afternoon sunshine next to them. "May I join you?" I asked, "Absolutely!" they chorused, and I rested my tired, dirty body on the bench across the table.

I introduced myself as "Chief," a PCT hiker taking a day off the trail. Joan and Ed presenting themselves said they were ahead of a group of other bikers, enjoying their day. The couple noted they were participating in a poker-run ride with their motorcycle club, and soon other riders would be showing up. Ed, looking at me, exclaimed, "A PCT hiker? You are f*****g crazy; being out alone in the woods!" Just then, the other motorcyclists roared up to the store, circled, and parked on the picnic table side of the building. The helmets came off, greetings were called out, and the folks moved in our direction.

Bigfoot was a hot topic, and indeed shortly, most agreed that I should be carrying a .45 caliber Desert Eagle for protection. I chuckled, observing other bikers quietly listening in on our conversation. Many in the group had a bigfoot story about someone they knew, encountering a sasquatch, or someone who knew someone. Beer and interesting conversation freely flowed.

Conversations expanded with every person giving their opinions about UFOs, Bigfoot, and my insanity of hiking without a gun. The vibe within this group made me feel I was with a family of friends, laughing and pointing out the world's craziness as they saw it. The experience was like a scene in a movie.

The conversation and beer began to buzz in my head. I felt crowded by so many boisterous people after quiet days on the trail, but who knows. So finally, I excused myself from the picnic table, saying I had to get my clothing out of the washing machine inside. "That's OK!" they chorused; we need to get going ourselves. Waving goodbye, I walked around to the front of the store and stepped inside the Kracker Barrel.

"Chief, it was you!" called Carol of the Brady Bunch, sitting at a table on the deli side of the store.   Obviously, my stratagem had only succeeded exceptionally well. Blinking, I had forgotten entirely about the family while conversing with the bikers outside. "Shoot," I thought, "I'm caught." My attempt at anonymous trail magic has just been discovered.

In the background, the biker troop roared off down the highway. I was past trying to lie, so admitting my responsibility in paying for the snacks and sodas was acknowledged. To deny my act of kindness with the beer buzzing in my head was a useless measure. So, I just smiled and said, "yes."

Thanks, were profusely given, and they asked me questions about my journey and where were Patrick and Mike. Answering their questions was fun, but they kept asking for an explanation about why I had paid for the drinks and snacks. Explaining trail magic can sometimes be challenging, but I told them some stories about folks helping me on the Pacific Crest Trail. Some individuals give anonymously, and others with a generous smile only a trail angel can give somebody.

With the most enormous grin, they all smiled, and Carol said, "You are family now, and thank you for making the end of our trip something special. We will reminisce and talk about this adventure for the rest of our lives." 

I choked up a bit, said "Thanks," and explained my laundry situation and the poor state of personal sanitation. I needed to get back to Mike and Patrick. I bid them farewell and made my way to the back of the store for my laundry. Returning to the condominium, I told my group the story about the Bikers and Brady Bunch and then jumped right into the empty shower. Nothing has ever felt so good. When finished, we made plans for the evening and the following day.

Making the most of my day at White Pass, I showered, repacked, and mended body and soul. I mused over the past days, especially the hiker Icebox, bikers, and the Brady Bunch. "What were their stories?" I wondered to myself.

The Brady Bunch, all coming out for a hike with their Mom, who sported a bag full of medicines. "Was she OK, sick? Would this be their last trip together?" I speculated. 'What would be his story?' Icebox, hiking thirty miles a day, leaving drinks for the hikers but not talking about himself. And the bikers' infectious enthusiasm, their incredulity to my endeavor endearing – the amazing conversations about hiking from Mexico to sitting at a picnic table next to the Kracker Barrel at White Pass.

I returned to the trail early on Monday morning. Patrick, Mike, and Maureen were gone, the bikers and the Brady Bunch were never seen again. Walking down the highway away from the Kracker Barrel, I was alone, lost in my thoughts. Icebox? I came across him again on the trail just a day later near Chinook Pass. We greeted each other, and he told me where his car was in the parking lot five miles ahead, with that cooler near the front bumper. 

I gave him my trail card and invited him to give me a call when he got near my home near Ebbetts Pass, in CA. He gave me a sad smile and said he would never make it but thanked me anyway. I inquired about his family and friends; "What did they think about him hiking the trail this way?" Icebox looked off in the distance and replied quietly, "They probably don't even know I'm alive, and they did; they don't care," with a despondent smile. He said goodbye, turned, and walked away.

I watched him disappear down the dusty trail, those water bottles dancing off his hips, and myself rooted to the spot. I've learned that friends are like family, and friends can be just like family. However, looking at his ivory shirt disappearing around a bend on the trail, I've never been faced with the conception of no friends and no family. 

The past days filtered through my mind as I turned and hiked northwards. Friends like Patrick, Mike, and my family are back at home. New friends like Joan, Ed, Bob, and the bikers in a chance meeting at a picnic bench with their motorcycles. New family like the Brady Bunch, gathering to share some special time together. My life is remarkable; every day comes with new revelations and friends.

At Chinook Pass, I found the car and enjoyed a cool drink from the ice chest with my lunch. Looking at the tourists walking around the parking lot; families in RVs, friends in cars, couples looking at the vistas, and everybody having a wonderful time, judging by the smiles. Considering Icebox's dusty vehicle next to me, I pulled out a scrap of paper. I wrote a message and left it under the wiper blade. Then returned to the trail, marching northwards alone. The message? 

"No man is a failure who has friends, and I'm your friend. Please visit or call anytime – you have my card." Chief.