#catch me writing whole novels up in here

[xoxochb]

— about anything ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

★ - “wanna listen to the sound of you blinking wanna listen to your hands soothe listen to your heart beating listen to the way you move”

warnings: this is really short pairing: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite a/n: this is entirely random but I wanted to write something simple today :)

for once, the hermes cabin was utterly silent. you had left your cabin early this morning because you’re siblings believed it was acceptable to spray loads of perfume at ten in the morning while you still slept. so, you had taken it upon yourself to leave cabin ten and spend the day in your boyfriends cabin. however, he was absent, you assume because he had counselor duties to attend to this morning unfortunately. so you waited. with your cup of coffee and your jane austen novel, you cozy yourself atop his bed, wrapping the blankets around your frame to shield your skin from the cold air-conditioning of the cabin. for two hours you had waited in silence, all the other hermes children had left for reasons you would guess were their own duties to attend to, so the cabin had been left to just you

bored, you close your book and let your head fall onto the pillow, and as you were ready to fall into slumber you hear the cabin door open. you allow your eyes to flutter open to see who had entered, and lucky you, your eye catches your favorite mop of dark curls progressively getting closer. you smile widely and sit up as luke takes a seat beside you on his bed

“hey. did I wake you?” he asks silently to preserve the quiet tone of the moment

you shake your head slowly, letting yourself fall back into the bed. “no, I just laid down”

luke murmurs a gentle ‘oh’ before laying down alongside you underneath the blankets. both, similarly, you wrap your arms around each other finding instant solace in the serene situation. you pull his head to your chest, his ear right over your beating heart

“what were you up to today?” you whisper. before responding, luke snakes a hand under your shirt, rubbing up and down your skin

“training… more training…”

you nod understandingly and stop yourself from continuing the conversation. you knew that his training was draining and had made the consecutive decision to let him rest. but— he whispers a silent plead for you to speak about your day until his eyes close shut

“I didn’t do much, I just kind of… read a lot. when I left my cabin this morning it smelt like perfume, I got a migraine so I came here hoping you hadn’t left but you were gone so… I took a small nap and I woke up feeling fine then I read emma for a bit and I had my coffee because you know me and my coffee addiction. then I was going to take a second nap while I waited for you but then you came in— so that was really my whole day”

luke hums in response, presumably on the verge of falling asleep from your honey-sweet voice

“that sounds nice. besides the migraine”

“definitely,” yoy laugh lightly, twirling your fingers through his hair to lull him to sleep at last “now rest. I’ll be here when you wake up”

you feel him smile upon your skin. “I won’t fight with you on that”

and he surely did not, moments later obeying your instructions

[sansaorgana]

Buck’s gal getting injured on base (twisted ankle or scrape - nothing major) and him just running off only hearing “she got hurt” to find her

hiii, it's me again 😌 with the second fic today because I'm trying to work on as many requests as I can since I don't have any plans this weekend and the amount of them in my inbox is lowkey stressing me out, not gonna lie 🤣 I love to write for Buck, though, so it's fine 💐

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

You would always wait for him when he was coming back from the missions. You were the only face Buck wanted to see first anyway and he kept searching for you through the crowd each time. Seeing you cheering for him would make him smile and his heart slow down its pounding in his chest.

But this time you were not there. His eyes were scanning through the crowd of men and women but you were not one of them. People approached him to congratulate him and pat his back but he did not pay much attention to it. He wanted to find his girl first. You would be the one to ground him after the mission and only after your sweet kiss he would be able to talk to these people or answer their questions.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” He kept asking but no one knew. Some didn’t even notice your unusual absence.

“You’re asking ‘bout (Y/N)?” Harry approached him. “She’s in the sickbay,” he explained and Buck’s heart skipped a beat at that. How could Harry be so casual about it…?

“What do you mean she’s there? What happened?!”

“I’ve no idea. Some accident. Buck, hey,” Harry tried to grab his friend’s sleeve, “you have to be interrogated first.”

“I don’t care,” Buck drawled out and hurried to the sickbay, not reacting to Harry and other men calling out for him. He was breaking a rule, he was aware. But there were more important things.

You were the most important thing.

Buck stormed inside the sickbay and looked around. One of the nurses sighed at the sight of him, already suspecting who he was looking for.

“She’s over there,” she pointed at the bed in the corner and Buck thanked her before rushing to your side.

You were reading a book and didn’t notice him at first, invested in the plot of some romance novel one of the nurses had lended to you. It was a nice distraction from the pain and from the stress. Buck was up in the air and you tried not to think about it too much.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” His deep voice brought you back to reality. You looked up and smiled widely at the sight of him.

“Oh! You’re back! You’re back!” You put the book away and extended your arms towards him.

“Yes, baby, I am,” he sat on the edge of your bed and took his cap off before leaning in to hug you. “What happened? Why are you here?!”

“You’re going to laugh at me,” you giggled.

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his brows, worried.

“I was in the archives, I tried to reach for the top shelf and I stood on the stool, right…” you started.

“Without taking off your heels first?” Buck sighed, knowing already what happened. He had been warning you about it each time he’d catch you doing it.

“Yes,” you looked down, ashamed. “And yeah, I fell down…” You paused and then you burst out laughing. “Oh, Buck, I’m glad you weren’t there.”

“I’d catch you if I were,” he lifted your chin up so you’d look at his face again.

“Yeah, no. Because…” you giggled, “...oh, baby, I fell down with the whole rack!” You laughed once again at how ridiculous you had to look when you had been found by the Colonel.

Buck chuckled finally, too.

“I’m so clumsy, it’s embarrassing,” you sighed.

“No, don’t say that,” he caressed your cheek. “Where does it hurt?” He asked.

You pushed your blanket aside and he hissed at the sight of your scratched knees and bruised hip.

“Yeah, not a very pleasant sight,” you admitted and covered yourself again. “The Colonel is more worried about that rack, though.”

“Of course he is,” Buck rolled his eyes.

“I’m scared that I’ll end up with scars on my knees,” you whispered. “I’m going to have ugly knees.”

“Well, that’s what you get for not listening to me, doll,” Buck bopped you on the nose.

“Will you still love me when I have ugly knees?” You asked shyly and he laughed.

“Oh, no, I can’t bear such a thought. I think I will be forced to look for a new girl with nicer knees. You see, knees are the most important part of a woman,” he teased but you didn’t find it funny and you pouted. “Oh, darling, I was joking,” he leaned in closer to place a kiss on your forehead. “I will always love you,” he promised and you smiled at him sweetly, “even with ugly knees.”

“Cleven,” Colonel’s voice made you both look up, “you should be in the interrogation.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m going now,” Buck put his cap back on and stood up.

“Both you and your girl are such menaces today,” Colonel Harding gave you an unpleasant look and you giggled.

“Oh, Colonel,” you rolled your eyes, “don’t you know trouble comes in pairs?”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[thehauntedetheral]

Hello! Since i saw ur bio that you take requests and i want to ask for a yandere boyfriend that wants to marry you immediately since you guys were at the right age, (hes 21 and the y/n is 20)

And I'm going to add something, like the boyfriend gets too jealous whenever there's other boys are looking at y/n or other people

(i don't know if you take baby fever? kind of thing, though just the boyfriend wanting a baby with you once you accept his marriage)

And just a headcannon of boyfriend getting so, sooo jealous whenever you get crushes on fictional men, you can add what you think of this! So and Is it okay if I give him a name? If yes, then Elliott, Thank You!

Keep up the good work! I really love it! And i also hope you'll do a part two of the Yandere Dom Kidnapper!

If you need ideas please do say!

(sorry for any grammar, english is not my first language! 😭)

Thank you for your idea. I hope you like this fic. And yes please keep sending me ideas. I love writing for you all.

Yandere Possesive (Dark)

Requests are open !

• You and Elliott dated throughout the high school. He was older than you but only by one year.

• You were happy with him. He is caring, charming, has a good humour with which he always tries to make you laugh. He is love of your life and you are his.

• You and Elliott were in same college as he doesn't want to be away from you no matter what. Recently you celebrated your 20th birthday with him. Everything went well only the plot twist was that Elliott proposed to you on your birthday night. You love him and you know he is the only one you want to marry but not now. You were just 20 and Elliott 21.

• But after much convincing or more like manipluating Elliott convinced you to say yes. Life didn't changed much only the difference now was that you were engaged. You thought to yourself that you were just being anxious about marrying too young but was not a issue atleast to you and Elliott as he was a really good patner.

• Elliott would bring flowers for you weekly, cook delicious meals for you, read a book to you while you snuggle in his arms, go out on dates with him, watch movies, bake together, talk with each other till late night and then falling asleep in each others arms.

• But as no one is perfect and everyone has their own flaws. Elliott had them too. He was extremely jealous and possesive about you that it many times led you two to an argument which always ended with Elliott fucking you against the wall or wherever you are making you beg for him while he would ask you

"Who do you belong to, darling?"

• You were talking to a man who was not him for some college project? This man becomes extremely jealous. That after your conversation he threatens the poor boy to stay away from you.

• You loved your stuffed teddy and would often cuddle with it. Well this man is even jealous of your teddy bear. What can I say whatever or whoever catches your attention he gets jealous of it and when you ask him one day "have you seen my bear?" "No. Darling but don't worry I am here cuddle me whenever you want until we find that stuffed bear". When in reality he has thrown that bear to a very distant place in jealousy. This man wants your attention 24/7 on him. Madly obsessed with you.

• You read many romance books and whenever you compliments some fictional character he gets jealous and says "Let's recreate those spicy smut scenes of your novel so I can show you how much better I am than him."

• A guy tried to flirt with you when you were hanging out with him at bar? Elliott beats that person until he is an bloody mess.

• When some random boy looks at you a bit long kisses you infront of them. To show how you belong to him just as he belongs to you.

• This man worships you like a goddess but is a freaking dominant in sheets fucking you until you are a dumb drooling mess.

• Elliott often thinks about you with a glowing round belly pregnant with his child. Having babies of you two. Showing it to the whole fucking world that you are only his and carrying his child. Hence leading to his baby fever.

• Would often show you cute videos of babies and saying "Our's will be more adorable with your pretty eyes, darling".

• Shops all the cute baby stuff he finds under the saying of "For future, darling". While you just ignored his baby fever thinking it's just a phase.

• You both got married on the fixed date in a beautiful church.

• Elliott cries like a baby while seeing you walk down the aisle in a beautiful white wedding dress looking like an angel which you definitely are according to him.

• After marriage you thought Elliott's jealousy would become less as you are husband and wife now but it doesn't lessens even a bit. Hence leading to many arguments again.

• This arguments scares him thinking you might leave him so he baby traps you with him knowing too well you would never leave him while having a child. He knows he is fucked up. But no matter what he is never losing you. And after all you both love each other and the unborn baby so anything else doesn't matter to him. Now only you and the baby matters to him.

• Elliott knows that he is crazy for you. But after all love makes us do crazy things, right?

Requests are open !

For more yandere Reading:

[leighsartworks216]

Happy Birthday, My Jasmine

Zayne x gn!Reader

Happy birthday to me!! I actually started writing this like a week ago, but the 2am inspiration hit and now here I am, staying up when I should be sleeping to write about Zayne being domestic (so so worth it)

Warnings: bathing, implied nudity, kissing, established relationship, very very vague reference to his myth, birthdays, domestic fluff

Word Count: 921

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You sigh softly, displacing the steam floating through the air. The hot water soaks deep into your muscles. It caresses out the tension and the stress, replacing it with pure relaxation.

Originally, you had planned on doing something while you bathed, indicated by the novel and fresh mug of tea sitting nearby, but the water drew you in too deep to even think about doing anything other than unwind. It’s not often you get a chance to take a bath; between the amount of time it takes to indulge to make the set up worthwhile and your work, you just never saw a reason to. But you didn’t have to worry about either of those things today, for one very simple reason:

Today is your birthday.

Now, you don’t make a big deal of it anymore. As a kid, of course, you’d want the whole nine yards of gifts, games and gâteau, surrounded by all your friends (or, at least, all your classmates). But as the years go on, the less weight they carry. You don’t need nine yards - just one will do. You hadn’t even asked for time off work! You’re pretty sure Tara told Jenna, or else Jenna paid close attention to the birthdays of her team. Either way, you have the whole day off.

Zayne wasn’t so lucky. He was so sweet about it, though. He got up early enough to make you breakfast and wished you a happy birthday with your good morning kiss. He asked what you wanted for dinner - whether it was takeout, a restaurant, or something cooked by him - and he called you during his lunch break. (You ended up video chatting while eating your respective meals. Yvonne and Greyson heard your voice and ran into his office to wish you a happy birthday, too.)

Your tea is lukewarm when you hear the front door open and close. Your spirits rise impossibly higher as you wait, watching the wall of the hallway through the open door for his appearance. Sure enough, he’s there in no time, smiling fondly as he crosses over the tile floor to kneel down beside the tub.

“Hello, my love,” he hums. You brush wet, pruny fingers along his cheek. He pulls away from your teasing, only to hold the back of your hand and press kisses to your palm. “How has your day been?”

You sigh contently. “It’s much better now.”

With a hand on the rim to support himself, he sits up and leans over to kiss you properly. His tie dips past the surface of the water, but he pays it no mind. His lips move slowly and purposefully with yours. It’s a languid dance, unhurried and painfully smitten.

You groan quietly against his mouth. “If you don’t stop soon, I’m going to pull you in with me.”

He chuckles, kisses you once more, and pulls away, sitting back on his knees. “Alright.” He kisses your hand again instead, before pulling it from his face to rest over his heart. “I brought dinner. Would you like to eat it now?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll go set it up.” He kisses your hand one last time before freeing it from his grasp to stand. He picks up your half-empty mug. “Do you want any more tea?”

You can’t wipe the stupid, lovestruck smile from your face. You’re not sure you ever want to. “Not gonna tell me how bad caffeine is at this hour?”

He huffs a soft laugh. “I think you deserve to be a little reckless on your birthday.”

“Can you make me hot chocolate?”

“Of course.” He moves your towel to be closer to you. “Take your time getting out.”

“Wait.” You just catch onto his sleeve before he can get too far from you.

He turns his hand over to hold onto yours again. “What is it?”

You can’t help admiring him for a second. He’s tired - you can tell even if he’s trying hard not to show it right now. You see it in the way he carries his shoulders and the slow way he blinks. Yet here he is, taking care of you, ensuring you have the best possible finish to your birthday despite his absence. He’s so beautiful in the white bathroom light. If you could, you’d marry him all over again.

“I love you.”

The tinge of worry along his brow disappears immediately. He sets the mug down beside the sink and bends at the waist to reach you, one hand cupping your cheek as the other holds onto the tub once more to support himself as he kisses you once more. And twice, and again for good measure. They’re not slow, lazy kisses like before, either. He breathes into your mouth with each kiss, slightly shaky, as if he can’t contain his love for you any longer. On the second kiss (second only because he needed to pull back briefly for air), he almost gathers his wits again. On the third, he nearly loses them when you open your mouth to him, wet fingers tangling into his hair to pull him closer and keep him there as he runs his tongue along the roof of your mouth. He has to pull away then for fear of crawling into the bath himself, but he doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours and taking in the bright, adoring look in your eyes.

“I love you, too,” he whispers, heart racing with so much adoration in his chest. “Happy birthday, my jasmine.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikacuzhc

[weirdsht]

What if i have an idea and it's orv's "incarnation kim dokja will be killed at the hands of the person he loves most" BUT it's reader and cale

May Our Fates Intertwine Once More - Cale/Reader

notes: 1. Anon I'm sorry for taking so long to write your req; and 2. I'm sorry to everyone who saw the small preview I posted before and thought it was fluff.

tags: fluff, no gender specified for reader, novel spoiler (sealed god's test), hurt no comfort, angst, death, canon divergence from 620

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

One moment you were next to Cale then the next second you’re standing in the middle of an unknown place with this weird half-transparent blue screen in front of you.

[Quest List:]

[1. Pass the tutorial

2. Launch a widescale attack on the safe zones during the eclipse 

3. Die after fighting a magnificent battle at the hands of the person who loves you the most]

“What the fuck…”

You cursed as you read what the screen says. You tried to see if you could touch it but something else popped up as soon as your finger made contact with it.

[WARNING!! WARNING!!]

[All injuries sustained in this body will be mirrored in your real body!]

“This isn’t my real body? But it looks the same.”

It really does. The only thing that has changed is your clothes. You’re wearing something that fits the image of a deity.

Still confused, you look around you. There’s nothing you recognized. But it does look like you’re somewhere abandoned.

[A message has arrived! Tap here to read!]

You tapped the new overlay that popped up and it instantly brought you to the message.

[Are you enjoying your lover’s original world?]

The anonymous message said. Immediately, you had an inkling as to who it could be.

“What the fuck? You must be that stupid god presence we felt back there.”

[Such brash words while talking to a god… Anyway, are you aware of where your lover is?]

“His around here too right? What the hell did you do to him?”

[Nothing much. His just under my test to overcome his despair. I’m waiting for him to be consumed by it so he can take my hand.]

“Knowing Cale, I'm sure he’ll overcome it. He’d rather die than work with you.”

[That’s where you come in dear.]

You feel like you can hear the god’s vile laughter even through the screen. But you wondered how you’d help meet Cale’s demise. Unless a demon possesses you to the point where you can’t control yourself, you won't do it.

Then it dawned on you.

The mission.

[3. Die after fighting a magnificent battle at the hands of the person who loves you the most]

“HAHAHAHAHAHA! You’re quite witty, aren’t you? On the bright side, I found out Cale loves me the most thanks to you.”

[It’s great, isn’t it? If you don’t do your missions you’ll be stuck here forever. If you do them you’ll die. Whatever you do you love must say goodbye. An instant recipe for despair.]

“We’ll see about that. You might be underestimating me too much.”

You pointed your middle finger towards the screen with messages before closing it.

Getting past the tutorial was easy. Turns out you have an inventory that contains countless supplies of food and other necessities. You also have the ability to summon monsters.

The same monsters your lover told you he fought in his previous life before becoming Cale Henituse.

“Ho? This is interesting. It feels like I’m playing a game of some sort.”

You said no one in particular as you read the descriptions of the monsters at your disposal. You spend the whole day navigating the screen that calls itself the “status window”. According to it, you have the whole day free today as the eclipse will happen tomorrow.

As you take yourself on a tour of your inventory one particular item catches your attention.

[Sword of Liubi Duplicate]

It was your sword. Well, a duplicate of it. It was given to you by Cale after you first met. Clicking on the sword, you read what properties would its copy have.

[A sword replicated from your world. It’s strong, probably one of the strongest swords on Earth 2 despite being nerfed. However, since it’s a duplicate it will only have half of its original prowess. It is still a remarkable weapon nonetheless.]

Some of the terms used like “nerfed” you don’t understand as they don’t exist in your world. But it still gave you a general idea as to what the status of your sword is.

Well, it’s better than nothing.

Plus you think the only time you’d have to use it is when you fight Cale so it’s better that it’s not as strong as before.

“Either way I die huh…”

You mumbled as you stared up at the ceiling of the abandoned house you found. Usually, a person would not be able to stay in such a place so leisurely. However, since the monsters won’t touch you it's a different story.

“What am I getting sad for? I was supposed to die way back! I’m just fulfilling it now…”

It’s the truth. If it wasn’t for your lover and his friends you would’ve died a long time ago. You guess someone bound to die early will die early.

You dismissed the thoughts of your death out of your head. Instead, you focused your energy on thinking about how you would get Cale to fight you so he could complete his mission.

With those thoughts in mind, you slowly fell asleep. 

“Okay, this is kind of fun… but I feel bad since Cale and the others are fighting the things I summoned.”

You’re on top of a building. A good distance away from Cale– no Kim Rok Soo’s safe zone but still near enough to be able to observe what’s happening.

“Is that Choi Han? At first I felt bad for them, but now I feel bad for myself. They’ll finish my babies in no time!”

Observing Choi Han and the others fighting, you kept summoning more monsters. The monsters you summon are regulated by the status window but you still find some joy in doing it.

It is getting tiring though.

You can’t believe you have to keep doing this for 24 hours straight. You’re not even getting paid…

[Alert!]

[One (1) of your “Grade 1 Taster Monsters” have broken from the pack]

[Alert!]

[Two (2) of your “Grade 1 Taster Monsters” have broken from the pack]

“What the hell? I swear my dearest must have an ancient power that allows him to gather powerful beings. His even stealing away my babies.”

You huffed in frustration as you watched two of your summons go over to Kim Rok Soo’s side.

“Isn’t this whole thing too good for me though? Everything I need to survive is free… And summoning monsters doesn’t cost anything.”

[It's the least I could do for someone bound to die either way]

That pesky god messaged you again.

“Well look at you being Mr. Nice. Are you flirting with me? Sorry, I’m taken.”

For emphasis, you brought up your ring finger that contained your engagement ring. As if flipping the god off.

[Blasphemous as ever. It tempts me to take you as one of my children. Too bad you won’t be able to take in the despair that comes as a price.]

“Yeah yeah. Just shut up. It’s not like I have any plans teaming up with a god.”

Sealed God shut up and you lived the next days in peace.

You have the monsters at your disposal that can do whatever you need them to do. And you have no quest assigned to you aside from that dying one. Your mind has also been at ease as you have a general plan as to how you’ll get your love to fight you one-on-one.

[New Mission Alert!]

[Summon one (1) Electric Eel in Gwangalli Beach]

Gwangalli Beach where is that? You have absolutely no idea. In fact, you’re tired of your status window acting as if you were from this world.

“I’m sure the monster will know where it is…”

Convincing yourself that your summons will know where it is you summoned a flying monster to take you to that place.

Luckily, your assumption was correct. In no time you were where you need to be.

“Status window summon one Electric Eel… Who named this thing? I mean it’s a snake that will be summoned from the sea, and has electricity as one of its powers. But Electric Eel? Seriously?”

After bashing the monster’s name a little, you summoned it.

“I’m sure you already know what to do…”

You mumbled to the monster before going away to hide before someone saw you.

All that’s left for you to do is watch and wait for your entrance.

3 days. That’s how many days it took for them to defeat the Electric Eel.

While everyone was doing that you were watching on top of the building. Your robed dress flows freely in the wind as you do so. There were a lot of instances you wanted to intervene. Wanted to go help the love of your life and the man you considered your brother.

But alas you couldn’t.

The status window with only one quest left reminded you of that every time.

[Are you ready for the final act?]

Sealed God messaged you again. As if laughing at your inevitable demise.

“Just watch my performance. It’ll be spectacular.”

For a moment you were tempted to curse him out as you usually would. However, you decided that if you’re gonna go out today, you’re going out with grace and elegance. It's only fitting as the fiance of a duke’s son.

[Player _____ will be killed at the hands of the person that loves them the most]

[The last arc of the game…]

[Starts Now]

Ignoring the status window, you ride the flying monster waiting for you. It’s the same monster that brought you to the beach before.

“I worked so hard just for you to defeat my baby.”

You gently spoke as you gracefully descended from the monster's back and onto the dead Electric Eel. 

“...That’s your baby?”

Kim Rok Soo mumbled quite mournfully. He was supposed to be your baby after all.

“Wait how are you even here?”

He asked. Looking at you curiously. 

“Oh, I’m the one summoning all the monsters you’ve been fighting. Was it fun? Ah, don’t ask me where they come from though. I have no idea where they came from. I can only summon them.”

You spoke as if there was nothing wrong. As if you guys aren't standing on the opposite sides of the battlefield.

“_____-nim…”

Choi Han, the man you have come to consider your brother, slowly called out to you.

“What are you doing?”

He asks, not minding the whispers from the people around you three.

“So that’s what happened to my Dark Tiger… Asking permission to borrow my things would have been appreciated, Your Highness.”

You addressed Alberu first before answering the swordmaster’s question.

“Don’t you still get it? Every play must end with the hero defeating the evil mastermind! And you Kim Rok Soo…”

The sword you summoned on the way here pointed towards your lover.

“You shall be the one who strikes the final blow.”

Kim Rok Soo’s brain connected the pieces. You smile while observing him. And that smile pissed him off.

Because you were smiling as if everything was okay.

As if you hadn’t just announced your death.

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll be stuck here and die. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

“So I just have to kill you here?”

‘And then you’ll return to my arms in our world?’

You knew the silent question that lingered in the commander’s reddish-brown eyes.

“Yes.”

Yet you ignored it. Letting him believe that everything will be fine. That you will only die in this world. That nothing will happen to you in your world and all shall be well.

It was for his own good.

The only way for him to not fall into despair once more.

Drawing your sword once again, you beckoned for your lover to fight you.

“Everyone else stay back. I’ll summon another unranked monster if you interfere.”

“Follow what they say and just watch.”

You and Kim Rok Soo said before your powers clashed with each other.

Lightning after lightning struck you. However, your sword blocked most of them. Dodging the ones you couldn’t block.

When it was your turn to attack, you struck your sword towards Cale. Each slash either landed on the Indestructible Shield or was blocked by the Fire of Destruction.

“Your sword is stronger than this. I did not give you such a flimsy thing.”

Cale spoke as you failed to cut through his shield once more.

“Don’t worry this isn’t the one you gave– Ugh!”

A lightning struck you. Cale used it as an opportunity to land more hits.

“I was talking you know? You’re as rude as ever. Anyway, this one is a duplicate.”

Your sword managed to land a cut on the commander’s arm. Everyone else watched the two of you. People who don’t know you were wondering how can the two of you fight while bantering as if your lives aren’t on the line.

But not everyone in the audience didn’t know you. Two people in there knew you very well. 

“I’m going back first. Something about this feels off.”

Alberu told Choi Han who was gripping his scabbard tightly.

“His Majesty is going first?”

“Seems like it.”

You can Cale continued talking as you fight. It reminded you of the small talks he would engage you in as you train.

It reminded you that this is probably the last time you will be able to talk to him like this.

“Ow! That hurts you know!”

A particular attack from the Sky Eating Water rendered you unable to pick up the sword. Cale took this as an opportunity to hold you down using the trees summoned earlier to fight the Electric Eel.

You watch as Cale turns off his Sound of the Wind. He walks towards you at a leisurely pace, picking up your sword on the way. 

“I’m sorry.”

He said and you noticed his hand tremble ever so slightly.

“Don’t be. I’m happy that it’s you. Do you want to know what’s the prerequisite of my death?”

Cale did not answer but you said it anyway.

“I shall die by the hands of the one that loves me the most. That’s what it said.”

The commander’s eyes shook along with his hand.

“That’s why I’m glad…”

Blood spilt from your mouth as your sword stabbed your heart. From the corner of your eye, you could see Choi Han running towards where you are.

“_____-nim!”

Your brother called out to you as Cale let go of his control on the trees in favour of holding you instead. 

There’s still blood spilling from your mouth but that didn’t stop you from smiling at him. Your smile was weak and tired, but it was the best you could do at the moment.

“I’m fine…”

You assured Cale squeezing your hand.

“I’ll be waiting for you in our world. So don’t be sad okay? Remember you have to overcome despair.”

“Promise?”

Cale asked you as he cradled your body in his chest.

“I promise.”

You left out the part that you’ll probably be dead or dying when he sees you. 

Weakly, but full of determination you raised your left hand to link your pinkies together. The diamond in your engagement ring shone as you did. Meanwhile, your right hand is being held by Choi Han.

They said that your life will flash in your eyes at your last moments. No such thing happened to you. But you did remember a conversation that you and your lover had prior to this whole thing.

“So you’re birthday is on November 8th? Why are you only telling me this now? There’s so little time to prepare a gift for you!”

“What are you talking about it’s still so far away?”

“No, it’s not! It’s not enough time for me to prepare the perfect gift for you.”

That’s right, today is November 8 in this world. It’s Cale’s birthday…

“In Raon’s castle… My gift is there. He should know about it…”

“You can just give it to me yourself when we get back.”

Cale answered and you almost laughed at his cluelessness.

“...Happy birthday my love. May you always find happiness.”

Those were your last words before you took your last breath. Before your body slowly turned into dust in Cale’s hold.

But Cale wasn’t in despair even as you die.

He may be sad, but he wasn’t in despair.

It was because he was holding onto your words that you’d meet him back home.

That’s how Cale was able to pass the Sealed God’s test.

But why…

“MOVE ASIDE, LET PENDRICK AND SAINT-NIM HANDLE IT!”

Why was the first thing he heard as soon as he came back Alberu’s shouting when he was supposed to be in his castle making preparations?

“CALL FOR MORE HEALERS WE’RE LOSING _____-NIM!”

“_____ wake up. Please wake up.”

Alberu and Raon’s voice rang on his head. 

At that moment. Rosalyn and Eruhaben noticed that he was back. They quickly greeted him before calling over Raon and Sherrit to remove the barrier that surrounded him.

“What’s happening?”

Cale asks as he enters the room where the shouts are coming from.

The sight made him stop in his tracks.

Laying on a grass bed that’s similar to where he was just a few minutes ago was his lover. His fiance.

They were lying there. Bleeding.

On the heart.

Exactly where Cale had stabbed them back on Earth.

A realisation dawned on him at the moment.

You just promised that you would meet him back home.

You did not promise that you would meet him alive.

Cale, the fool, had only assumed you would.

[grippingbeskar]

warmth

ೃ⁀➷ joel miller x fem!reader

❥ content warning; forced proximity, dub!consent, somnophelia, dry humping, swearing

❥ a/n; based on this request! i've had some time off, and am still going through a bit of a strange time in my life, but your guys requests always inspire me to write and create, even if its just a lil bit of joel smut. hehe.

masterlist <3

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

“So this is fun.” You say into the dwindling light of the run down shithole you and Joel are calling home for the night. “Nice and cosy.”

“Cosy?” He parrots, and looks over to what was once a gaping hole in the side of the cabin. You shrug, and sink yourself further into the bundles of blankets you managed to secure.

“S-sure.” Your teeth chatter from the icy surroundings, defeating your point. “Are you sure we can’t start a tiny little fire in here?”

“Whole place is made of wood, darlin’. You’d be toast by mornin’.” His heavy accent floods your body with much needed heat, and you find yourself scooting closer to him on the floor you’ve made your make shift beds on.

“Toast sounds p-pretty good right now.” He laughs slightly, eyes catching your own before dropping back to his lap.

He watches you shift around, bundling yourself closer to trap any body heat you’ve managed to build up, and then takes one of the blankets off the top of his sleeping bag and throws it over you.

“Joel.” You say wistfully, but immediately snatch at the new blanket and add it to your pile. “You’ll get c-cold too.”

“I’ll live.” He says simply, and lays down about a foot away from you. “We should get some sleep.”

“Right.” Your voice is breathless, but still makes a few puffs of cold air as you move yourself down onto the floor of the cabin.

You’re calling it a cabin, but it’s more like a barn the way it’s laid out. It’s smack bang in the middle of a dense forest, with hay everywhere, even in a pile that crunches underneath every time you or Joel shift. It also doesn’t help the fact you are covertly trying to get closer to him— both wanting to steal his body heat and just be close to him.

Joel is a hard man to read. At first you thought he hated you, with all his prolonged silences and gruff remarks. Then, you thought he saw you as a somewhat annoying distant cousin. One that you’d socialise with for a few hours, but then quickly get sick of and look for an excuse to leave them until the next gathering. Once the family bond idea was thoroughly stamped out in a few of his secret heated gazes, or the way his hands would linger on your hips when he unnecessarily lifted you up onto your horse, it was just confusing.

But, you were determined to figure the man out. It’s not like he wouldn’t have your undivided attention anyways. He was a freaking cowboy— straight out of a romance novel. Thick accent, gentlemanly charm and an ass to die for. You were only human.

Still, the hay crunched as you tested your boundaries little by little, as you have been over the past few weeks. Getting closer, lingering longer, smiling sweeter. And it had… well, it affected him in some way, you were sure. But you just don’t know what way. God forbid you go back to the distant cousin stage—

A blast of wind slips through a crack in the walls, and you shudder and ball yourself up.

If Joel hears you, he says nothing, so you just drag the blanket he gave you off the top of your pile and down into the middle so it pressed against you. It smelt just like him— pine and wood and… maybe a little dirt. You two had been travelling for days, and he refused to let you get your hands dirty, so it would make sense.

You buried your face in it, warming the cold tip of your nose and trying to muffle your chattering teeth. It’s a good thing you were covering you mouth, because you nearly squeal when Joel whips around, his chocolate eyes staring right into yours.

“You alright?” He asks, his voice heavy with sleep, and you’d feel bad if his voice didn’t sound so goddamn sexy like that. Right out of a romance novel, you swear.

“Mhmm.” You manage to squeak out, your face covered up to your eyes.

“You lyin’?” He asks, and you repeat yourself. “C’mere.”

At first you’re confused, scrunched eyebrows giving you away. Then Joel pulls back the covers a little, physically inviting you into his chest, and you take the hint embarrassingly fast.

All of a sudden, you’re tucked into Joel’s warmth, surrounded by the smell the blanket only gave you a hint of. You stay face to face, enjoying the ease at which his body warms your hands and nose, and one of his arms drape over your side, keeping itself respectfully in the middle of your body.

Respectfully, you wouldn’t mind if he wandered a little lower, but you tried to keep those feelings at bay.

“Warmer?” He asks tightly as you cling to him, nodding quickly. He mumbles something else, a rough sound only discernible by the way his chest rumbles with it, your cold hands slowly thawing out against it.

"T-thanks." His arm wraps around you tighter when you bury your face in the crook of his neck, the cord of your strange relationship tangling ever so slightly just like your legs do under the covers. "Nice and cosy."

You giggle at your own joke, and he scoffs. "Christ. Go to sleep."

Your laughter fades off as your breathing evens out, and pretty soon you're drifting off into sleep, Joel's arms keeping you warmer than ever.

*you can stop reading here if you aren't a whore. however, i am, so i will continue*

It must be a few hours before your eyes open again. Joel is fast asleep, soft puffs of hair warming the top of your head as your eyes flutter open to complete darkness. You've tangled even more in your sleep, unconsciously wanting to be closer, not just for warmth.

His strong leg nestled between your thighs has nothing to do with body warmth.

When you start to gain a little more of yourself from the cover of sleep, theres a mess between your legs you can't deny. Joel moves slightly as you stir, a choked little whimper escaping your throat as he pushes against you just right. Theres no part of you effected by the cold wind outside— your whole body floods white hot, two strong arms trapping you to feel nothing but the way he's against you.

It's wrong. You should pull away, or wake him up, or do something to drive a wedge between you and Joel. You hardly know for sure if he likes you, let alone wants you like...this.

Then he shifts again, a little roll of his body sending sparks up your stomach, and you make a small sound again.

"You enjoyin' yourself?" You freeze, eyes squeezing shut as you try to deny your body the sleepy pleasure it's taking from him.

"J-joel—" You squeak, a noise embarrassingly high pitched, but his hand tightens on your hip and alleviates some of the nerves.

"It's alright, darlin'. You take what you need." He murmurs, and dips his head, pressing a light kiss underneath your ear. Your hips roll experimentally, and he hums in approval. “That’s it. That’s it.”

"I... oh god, Joel." His hand guides you forward and back, setting a slow but intense fire in your tummy that licks higher and higher every shift.

"How's it feel? Good?" He kisses you again, this time on your cheek.

"S-so good."

"You got no idea how many times I wanted to wake up like this..." You think of all the times you've slept mere inches away from him, but never having the guts to make the move. "Can feel how wet you are f'me."

You shiver, getting more restless as he starts to grind you against his thigh a little faster than before, rocking into you as you slump against his chest again. His free hand grabs your jaw harsher than you expect, bringing your face to his to kiss you hungrily. It's messy and consuming, teeth bashing together as the two of you attempt to find a rhythm that doesn't stop the sweetness of your bodies colliding together.

It shouldn't feel as good as it does, the way your clit runs easily along his now slick thigh, your heart stuttering in your chest as you hear him groan into your mouth, clearly feeling as pent up as you are. The hand on your hip locks under your thigh then, hitching it up higher on his side, the new angle making it all the more intense and having you whine into the kiss.

Joel's tongue dominates your mouth, fills you with the taste of him you've imagined in countless nights alone but never quite perfected. He's overwhelming— pulling you up and on top of him all while keeping your mouth tightly sealed to his own. He swallows your little noises, covering them with his own groans and sighs of your name as you ride him, your mind racing with images of how he'd feel under all these layers.

"Fuck, darlin' I'm not gonna last if you keep..." He breathes out, hands travelling down your back to cup your ass. You lean down and kiss him messily, and move your hips at your own pace, chasing your high.

"It's okay— please, Joel." He grumbles something against your lips, and you just shake your head. "We can do whatever… whatever you want later. Just keep going."

He shudders, your hint of permission enough to send him over the edge. You manage to open you eyes and look at him when he cums, his eyelashes fluttering and his tight jaw going slack with pleasure. That paired with the feeling of his muscles going tight and the way he says your name, you cum with him, your hands gripping tight on his curls and you muffle yourself once again into the crook of his neck.

Neither of you have the energy to move, your overwrought nerves and exhausted body collapsing on top of him. He keeps kissing you lazily, the way your tongues tangle together indulgent of each others tastes. His arms move around you, tucking you in to the blankets so that no part is exposed to the cold, and when your body is covered he gives his hands free reign to roam your skin.

Rough pads of his fingers trail up your spine, pushing up under the layers of clothes to feel your skin against his. As you settle into his soothing touches, the reality that the two of you just came on each other like teenagers has you all hot in the face and shut your eyes tight. He pulls away, his nose nudging your face to look at him.

“You okay, baby?” He says softly, a little smirk on his face when you manage to sneak a look at him. You nod shyly, and his hands drop lower and settle on your ass again before trailing up. “That was… unexpected.”

You look down. “I’m really sorry if I just—“

“No, baby no. Not bad. Good… fucking perfect. Wish I could wake up to that every morning.” He grins, and it takes years off his usual scowling face. “Just thought I’d maybe… take you out first. I got no problem skippin’ straight to dessert though, if that’s what you want.”

“Dinners good.” You smile, and he seems a little relived at that, like maybe he might enjoy it just as much as what comes after. “Desserts good, too.”

He laughs, the sound bouncing off the wooden box of a cabin you’re stuck in, but with Joel holding you like this, the cabin is quickly becoming one of your favourite places in Jackson.

[sarascamander]

Reading the cursed child (scorbus, norvelize version in a03). I read the script years ago when I was 11 (funfact it was the first harry potter book I've ever bought). So I'm rereading it again because I have a scorbus brainrot suddenly (11 y/o me shipped Scorpius and Rose so hard but now I grew up let just say my taste had change lmao).

List of thought gonna go longer as I read:

- yo Albus surly personality is basically me when I was 15 it was like looking into a mirror. Hold on there baby I understand you 😭

- I want to write a whole essay on Albus and Harry's relationship. They both are so precious but they just have a hard time with each other.

- Scorpius is the sunshine most sunshine cinnamon role ever. I would kill for him. I would die for him.

- ALL THOSE BULLY BETTER STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY OUTCASTS BABIES.

- “And be my good friend.” what if I die.

- why do people love to torture the cinnamon roll??? I want to hug Scorpio so bad like baby you deserve the moon and the sky and the world. And the fact that he's still trying to be so cheerful and optimistic. THE WORLD DOESN'T DESERVE HIM.

- Albus and Harry's father and son angst is killing me but it is also so delicious I relish in it (it's just so complicated I love it).

- "you’re kind, Scorpius. From the depths of your belly, to the tips of your fingers." Is the sweetest thing I've ever heard anyone said. I love this quote so much I want it tattooed on my forehead.

- Again, Scorpius deserve the fucking world.

- Scorpius and Draco's relationship is SO GOOD, SO PURE, SO SOFT. They love each other so much 😭

- brb I'm going to cry at the fact that Dark AU Ron and Hermione die in such a terrible way a few minutes after they finally confess their feelings (they were scared). 😭😭😭😭😭😭

- Snape is so dramatic. Girl "you're giving up your kingdom for Albus... All it takes is one person." he made it sound like they're in a romance fantasy novel (they are).

- Head empty. Scorpius happiest memory with Albus is strong enough for him to produce a patronus.

- Scorpius is once, again, a cutie pie that deserves everything.

- Delphi is more manipulative than I realized when I first read this lmao.

- GIRL the way Albus said that he and Scorpius ran away to start a new life in the muggle world as an excuse — what do you mean you're eloping at 14??? (Out of chronological order but I just remembered this)

- Delphi when I catch you —

- Never thought I'd be rooting for Draco and Harry duo yet here we are (did I say I love Draco as a dad?? I don't think he's appreciated enough. He's a brilliant dad! THIS is his best redemption arc).

- "What did you say to our son, Harry?" GO OFF QUEEN (Albus is a confirmed mommy boy)

- RON WANT TO MARRY HERMIONE AGAIN. I don't quite ship them in the book/movie but they're just the sweetest in here 😩😩

- I just had the sudden realisation that Scorbus might be the only couple that I ship in hp that is so close to canon (and was canonised by some play if I heard correctly).

- that time where they were in godric hollow and Scorpius was surprised that Albus never knew the full story of his grandparents or visited the place just bc he was being a petty, moody uninterested teenager hit so hard (he is me and I am him). And the shame he felt was real too. I always regret those years in my life where I acted like that and I don't even have a daddy issue like Al did, what's my bloody excuse lmao (I blame fucking hormones) 😩😭

- okay so finished it!! When I was a kid I don't quite like the time travel thingy and find it very confusing but I think it's because it's a screenplay yk, and it was meant to be watched not read. But the novel version did help a lot (and I give the author my hundreds of gratitude, her writing is absolutely beautiful! And she captured the characters perfectly! If you're scared to read The Cursed Child, read her novel version in ao3!!!).

I'm surprised that I actually love the plot more than I thought I would. Yeah it can get a bit unrealistic at times but all in all it's very entertaining and Albus and Scorpius are very well written, very rounded and nuanced characters that carry the book. I'm glad their parents didn't overshadow their personality etc (like them being mini-copies of Harry and Draco). They're their own person and I love that about them!!

They're not Drarry or even Jegulus as I've seen people say, they're in their own league. There are no enemies or hatred or tension between them; Scorpius and Albus genuinely like each other so much from the first they laid their eyes on each other and I adore them for it.

I read a theory that Albus was sent in Slytherin because he subconsciously wanted to be in a house with this kind boy met on the train and it made me want to cry (they were made for each other). (Although I do think Albus have many Slytherin traits, Scorpius I was less sure he screamed Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw to me but admittedly he can be cunning to).

So yeah, I don't think it's that bad as everyone said (and my 11 y/o self). It's fun and I actually cried a lot at the end of it (I have to watch Jily die, do you have any idea what that did to me???) (I don't even ship them but i swear this book set me to default back to canon).

I really want to watch the play, would die for it but it's impossible and I can only dream.xoxo

[aziraphales-library]

Hello amazing people! I wonder if you have any recs for human aus where the boys are like teen or uni aged? Like cute young love story. Maybe spicy. Thank you! <3

Hi! Tags you'll want to take a look at are: #childhood friends, #high school au, #college au, and #university au. Here are some more to add...

Vignettes of a Life Together by Busy24_7 (E)

Crowley, botany student and professional worrier, is harboring a massive, secret crush on his new roommate. Aziraphale, on the other hand, is more clueless than he is given credit for. Will these two ever figure it out, or is Crowley doomed to a life of pining? A 5+1-style fic with a whole lot of fluff and intentionally minimal angst. Rated M for the first few chapters, but will be upgraded to E if Crowley ever gets his way…

The End is Where We Start From by Optimistic Starlight (E)

“Aziraphale, hello. It’s er, been a long time.” “Yes, dreadfully long. You look different.” He immediately coloured in evident embarrassment. “I mean, of course you look different, as do I of course, I didn’t mean bad different, that is to say…” Something inside of Crowley, something that had been in a deep freeze for several eons, was starting to thaw. It was letting little bits and pieces of familiarity break loose to float back into their rightful places in his soul. One of those pieces, those round, blue eyes, suddenly snapped into place, and he felt a corresponding wave of long-forgotten feeling wash through him. Aziraphale is anxious. Make Aziraphale happy. “Yeah,” he interrupted. “D’you wanna… get a coffee or something?” *** Crowley and Aziraphale meet by chance on the street. They've met before, in their youth, in a different life. Some difficult things have happened since then. Will they be able to find their way back to each other and to themselves?

Down to the River by CemeteryAngel725 (E)

Twenty-five years ago, Tony Crowley walked out of Azi’s life and broke both of their hearts. Since then, Azi has been living in suspended animation, working in the army/navy surplus booth he inherited from his dad and writing horror novels. Now Tony is back from the city, flush with success and wanting to catch up with Azi. Should Azi risk his heart and try to reclaim what they’ve lost? Or is it too late to start over? A Good Omens human AU inspired by Bruce Springsteen.

Against All Odds by GroovyNightStrawberry (E)

How can you just walk away from me? When all I can do is watch you leave 'Cos we've shared the laughter and the pain and even shared the tears You're the only one who really knew me at all Az is eleven, and his world is falling apart. His best friend is walking away from him, and Az can't find a way to make him stay. Thirty-five years later, there's a familiar face at Aziraphale's new job, and it threatens to break his heart all over again. Can they do it better this time?

Opposites Attract by Pal456 (M)

The Eastgate family hated the Crowley family. Hated them so much, that their children were not to spend any time together. That never stopped Aziraphale and Crowley being drawn to one another time and time again even though their families would pull them apart. As years go by, Aziraphale tries to do right by his parents in order to take over the family business one day, but it seems like the Almighty might have a different, ineffable, plan that brings the two together every chance they get.

One and the Same Fall by ElliottRook (E)

Aziraphale Fell is a UK student attending an American Catholic school on exchange, an escape from a strict, conservative family. Anthony Crowley is a juvenile delinquent on his last chance, sent to live with his uncle and attend a school that promises to shape him up. When they cross paths at St. Bernadette's, they nearly instantly become friends, and nobody likes it--not the teachers, not the old-money students, not Aziraphale's family--but it's the best thing that's ever happened to either of them. Hanging over their heads, though, is Crowley's plan to flee the moment he comes of age, and what will happen after they're no longer trapped in the same gilded cage.

- Mod D

[voxofthevoid]

*banging pots and pans together* Goyuu gremlins, come get y'all fucking juice.

I say this as if I'm not inundating you in goyuu every week, but Gojou has been conspicuously absent from my current WIP for...10 chapters and over 70k words. A major character and one half of the endgame ship, and he shows up halfway through the story—JJK has got me making more and more novel (in terms of my writing) narrative choices with each fic.

Gotta say, it feels great to get back into writing Gojou. Last time I tackled him was at the end of September, for the fem!Gojou no-powers oneshot. The necrofic from October beginning has a lot of Gojou, sure, but he's a...well, a corpse. Sinking back into goyuu banter and interactions felt like coming home.

Now, here's Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #9, featuring Gojou Sluttoru Satoru in the flesh.

There’s a man on the platform.

It’s the height that startles Yuuji first. He’s freakishly tall. The tallest person Yuuji’s seen—unless he counts Sukuna, which he won’t. Besides, this guy’s all legs, and it’s weirdly fascinating how they move, smooth and graceful under shiny pants reflecting the platform lights. They eat up the platform with long, languid strides, getting closer and closer and—

Yuuji blinks, dragging his eyes from the man’s legs to a face that’s a lot closer than he expects, even though he has to crane his neck to make eye contact—kind of. The man’s wearing sunglasses, those thick black ones that show nothing of what’s underneath, so Yuuji just ends up staring at his own distorted reflection.

His eyes are wide, his mouth a little open. Yuuji closes it, his teeth clicking together.

The height isn’t the only startling thing about the man. His hair is a shock of white, messy strands covering his forehead and even falling over the sunglasses. And Yuuji’s got no leg to stand on when it comes to people with eye-catching coloring, but there’s still something about this man that makes it hard to look away.

“Hi?” he offers warily.

“Hello,” comes the answer, immediate and cheerful. “You a local?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”

A tilt of the head. Those snowy strands shift with mesmerizing motions. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Why…am I reassuring you?”

The man claps, once. “Good point! You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

Yuuji’s so confused. “No?”

“Hmm, you don’t sound very sure about that either.” The man leans closer, which involves a lot of bending. Yuuji blinks at his reflection in the glasses, which blinks right back. “Nah, you’re too cute to be a serial killer.”

“Thanks, I think. Who are you?”

“Gojou Satoru!” The man declares, straightening up and sticking out an arm. “And who are you, my young, uncertain friend?”

Yuuji takes the proffered hand. It’s big, almost swallowing his whole hand when it closes around it. There’s warmth too, seeping boldly into his flesh.

“Itadori Yuuji,” he introduces himself. “I’m very confused.”

“I did get that impression.”

“No, I mean, you’re—” Yuuji shakes his head. “Never mind. Why are you asking weird questions?”

“Hey now,” the man says, his lips pressing into a pout. They’re very shiny. And pink. “Those were very sensible questions. There’s no point asking for directions from a non-local, is there? And it’d be very unwise of me to put myself in the maw of a murderer.”

“Well,” Yuuji says, slightly less confused, “I’m not a murderer. And I do live here. Moved here a few months back. Pretty sure I can give you directions. To where?”

“A recent transplant. I see,” Gojou murmurs, his head still tilted slightly down. Despite the opaque glasses, Yuuji has the distinct sense of being looked at. “Would you happen to know the way to the Fushiguro household, Itadori Yuuji-kun?”

“Fushiguro?” Yuuji repeats. “You know him? Or are you here for Tōji-san?”

“Both,” Gojou says, his smile widening. The glossy gleam of his lips doesn’t hide how sharp the expression is, and for the first time, Yuuji really takes in the rest of his face—the chiseled jaw, the straight nose, the prominent cheekbones. A sharp face, but pretty too. Like Fushiguro’s, except that while Fushiguro’s soft around the edges, this man looks like he’ll cut if touched. “—to me?”

Yuuji blinks back to himself, trying and failing to make sense of what Gojou just said. “Huh?”

That smile grows even bigger, flashing a hint of very white teeth. “I asked if you’re listening to me?”

“Oh. No,” Yuuji admits. “Sorry?”

Gojou hums, tilting his head like a curious cat. “I don’t think you are. But I’ll forgive it if you’re a good boy and take me to the Fushiguros.”

Yuuji swallows, his throat very dry. “I could, but…”

“But?”

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer, Gojou-san?”

Gojou snorts. It’s an ugly sound, rough and nasal. Something inside Yuuji unclenches, like that’s the proof he needed that this guy is human and not some abnormally pretty dream he conjured up. It’d be a kinder dream than usual, but Yuuji can’t trust his imagination anymore.

“I’m too handsome for that, don’t you think?” Gojou asks, his grin grown lopsided.

“Yeah, but—” Yuuji makes a sweeping gesture with his free arm, covering Gojou as well as the rest of the platform. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“So there is a brain under all that pink fluff,” Gojou says, his tone weirdly approving.

“I don’t think you get to talk about anyone’s hair,” Yuuji points out, eyeing Gojou’s snow-white strands again.

But Gojou just tosses his hair like he’s in a shampoo commercial. “It’s all natural.”

“So is mine,” Yuuji says drily. “Not the point.”

“Oh? What is your point then?”

“Serial killing. I think.” Yuuji shakes his head. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll take you to the Fushiguros’ place. Do anything weird and I’ll punch you.”

“Careful,” Gojou purrs. “I might be into that.”

Yuuji just looks at him for a moment, before taking in the rest of the platform with half a mind to foist this guy off on someone else. There’s no one, obviously. It’s not like this place is bustling even during what was the rush hour back at Sendai. Nanami and Yuuji were alone the entire time they waited, and he’s pretty sure no one but Gojou got off from the train.

Plus, he probably shouldn’t inflict this guy on anyone else. Yuuji doesn’t think he’s a bad person or anything, but he’s kinda weird. And Yuuji’s pretty immune to stranger danger.

Except when he walks into cursed churches.

“Come on then,” Yuuji says. “It’s getting late, and Tōji-san usually turns in early.”

Gojou’s lips and cheeks do something very weird. “Fushiguro Tōji has a bedtime.”

“Uh, not exactly—”

Yuuji’s cut off by demented laughter—full-on cackling, filling up the open air of the empty platform. All he can do is watch, nonplussed, until Gojou calms down, and even that’s startlingly abrupt, the noise stopping so suddenly that the resulting silence seems to boom.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gojou says, not sounding all that sincere. “That was just too funny. Guess the single dad life suits him.”

Yuuji thinks of what Fushiguro sounds like every time he has to talk about his dad. “I…wouldn’t say that. Anyway, you coming?”

“Sure,” Gojou says easily. “You going to let me go first, or are we holding hands the whole way?”

“What’re you—”

Yuuji realizes the answer before he even finishes the question, blinking down at his own hand—still clasped firmly around Gojou’s bigger one. He lets go quickly, snatching it back. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with it. Wiping it on his pants would be rude. And it’s not like Gojou’s palm was sweaty or anything. It was just warm, and Yuuji’s whole hand sparks like it’s stolen that heat for itself. He settles for folding his arms across his chest. 

Gojou looks entirely too amused. “Pity.”

“Don’t tease me,” Yuuji grumbles, hoping the heat on his face doesn’t actually show on the skin; he knows his odds though, and they’re not good. He’s about to march off, leaving Gojou to choose whether to follow, when something occurs to him. “Wait, are you…”

“Yes?” Gojou prods after a moment, that curling grin still in place.

Yuuji squints up at him, specifically the sunglasses. He doesn’t think Gojou’s blind. People wear sunglasses all the time, though he’s rarely seen ones so dark. And Gojou navigated the platform pretty easily earlier, no cane or anything. Still, the thought won’t leave his head, and Yuuji’s mind refuses to accept the vague sense of being watched as enough proof, so he asks, “Are you blind?”

“How blunt,” is Gojou’s response. “I like that in people.”

“That’s not—”

—an answer, Yuuji doesn’t say because Gojou proceeds to give him an answer, raising one long-fingered hand to pluck his sunglasses off.

A maelstrom of blue slams into Yuuji.

He’s seen blue eyes more than a few times. People he knew, people he passed in the street. Bright ones, dark ones. Then there’s Fushiguro, whose eyes act like some deep-sea trench, shifting from dark green to depthless blue based on the lighting and his mood.

But he’s never seen eyes like these.

It’s not just one shade of blue, but every blue, all at once. Thin threads of shuddering color, spreading out from pupils that swallow all light. It’s breathtakingly bright, like the colors are reaching out of the eyes to claw at the air. Or maybe they’re just swirling inside, chasing each other inside the confines of those irises.

A part of Yuuji knows that he’s imagining it, that Gojou’s eyes aren’t actually nuclear ghosts. But that logic doesn’t quite penetrate the blue haze in his head.

Gojou blinks, cutting off that stream of color, and Yuuji sucks in a breath like a drowning man.

[writing-for-life]

The Self-Love, Sex and Pursuit of the Helm Novels

Part 2: Bully for You—An Unhinged Interlude

Okay, I’ve spent the whole @sandman-rarepair-fest with tragic relationships, poetry and being serious.

And while this relationship is also… tragic, it’s neither poetic nor to be taken seriously, although a small group of us are fully committed to the cause: Behold, the crack ship! Morpheus x The Helm! For the Monsterfucker prompt.

(It’s highly advisable to read part one first, but they can sort of exist independently. Just not as well 🤣)

Bully For You: An Unhinged Interlude (2321 words) by Writing-for-Life Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, Desire of the Endless, The Helm (The Sandman) Additional Tags: I Blame Tumblr, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Or Is It?, Muhulhu, Drat! A HelmLord Story, Murphy and his Cool Hat, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Swearing, Masturbation, Anal Something, Because I have no clue what they are doing honestly, helm fucking, Monsterfucking of sorts, It's a Dream of a Thousand Cats Situation, At least a thousand fanfic writers were thinking of the same thing, but he actually enjoyed it, although he would never admit to it, Dream and the Helm finally get it on, About Time, tags what tags they make no sense, don't get your hopes up, this is not really smut, it has all the marks of being explicit, but somehow it's really not Series: Part 2 of The Self-Love, Sex and Pursuit of the Helm Novels: A Tragicomedy in Three Movements Summary:

Where we witness how the Lord of Dreams loses his bearings (no, not those ones), and even Desire needs a stiff drink…

If you always wanted to know what's so special about Dream's relationship with his Helm (capital H on occasion), this might provide some answers. Or raise more questions than you ever dared to ask...

Excerpt:

Desire had felt… things for a short while but shrugged the sensations off. Until they became impossible to ignore. Because he wanted something without their doing (although what comes first, or who, was sometimes hard to tell, but not to get lost in details at this point, dear reader). In lieu of ridiculous desires like “something beyond my function, blah blah”, it would usually be shaped like a woman. Since Desire had given him Killalla (and maybe, just maybe, taken her away again, which still made them chuckle), he had developed a bit of a kink for female-shaped mortals. Well, they hadn’t all been mortal, but the “female-shaped” still stood. And because of the mere fact that their brother was so painfully strait-laced (we suggest the spelling “straight-laced” here, dear reader), it came as a bit of a surprise to feel those decidedly different vibes. Dream wanted something. But it wasn’t a woman, or anything remotely female-shaped. It was…

What the heck was it?

Desire concentrated really hard.

It seemed to be something forged in the fever dream of a blacksmith who took his inspiration from a lobster and a nightmare. Something otherworldly, something with a spine like the tail of a crustacean. Truly, if a lobster decided to pursue a career in gothic architecture and at the same time became some sort of… headgear, it would probably look like this.

Desire first rolled their eyes but then felt their breath catching. “It’s his fucking helm,” they muttered. “Please give me a break. He wants to fuck his helm…”

Brother Dream, master of the subconscious, running his hand tenderly, with a slight shake, over the spine of that ludicrous thing. Desire laughed out loud, but the laugh was short-lived, because things began to unravel. Rapidly…

Read the rest here (otherwise I have to add a content label 🤣)

[drchucktingle]

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #2

hello buckaroos welcome back to deconstructing damascus where i will be talkin on THEMES and hidden secrets in my dang horror novel CAMP DAMASCUS. as with previous post, this talk will have HUGE SPOILERS so i recommend not reading until you have had a chance to read camp damascus. if you are curious about this way and are thinkin 'oh ill just take a buckaroo peek' then i will say again DO NOT. trust me bud, camp damascus has a lot of mystery to unfold and it is best to go in without knowing anything

THAT being said if you have already read the book and want to dive in then here we go. i will post previous edition of DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS below so you can catch up if you have not read the first post yet

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #1

(EDIT: PART 3 IS HERE)

(EDIT: PART 4 IS HERE)

okay now that is out of the way LETS TROT. big warning there are HUGE SPOILERS BELOW this line you have been warned buckaroo

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #2: CASTING SHADOWS

previously we talked about way peter pan folklore is sometimes used as allegory running through this story, and before we move on i would like to discuss ONE PARTICULAR aspect of this allegory. last time i gave many examples, but i left a big one off because it is SO IMPORTANT and i wanted to talk about it as its own separate post

in story of peter pan there is classic scene of peter wrestling his shadow. the shadow is both separate entity and the same person, and eventually peter reattaches the shadow to his feet and regains control

in CAMP DAMASCUS shadows are used throughout the whole book, but the metaphor is basically the same: control. more specifically, the trot of shadows is a representation of AGENCY

when we first see PACHID she has all of the control. she is standing in the living room BATHED IN SHADOW. this position of power is where she emerges from

halfway through camp damascus, when roses HEROIC TURN happens and she starts fighting back, there is a scene where SHE TOO wrestles with her own shadow and reattaches it to herself. this is point in the story where rose is reclaiming her agency

but honestly most important thing you need to know about shadows involves OTHER question about camp damascus. question i KNEW WOUlD BE COMING but decided to chart my own path for the sake of art.

when writing book, chuck knew that ending would seem abrupt to some and that it might bother some buckaroos, but artistically speaking this story HAS TO END WHERE IT DOES. because this is not just a story about rose so much as it is a story about ROSES AGENCY. THAT IS THE JOURNEY.

to unlock the secret of WHY camp damascus ends exactly where it does and WHAT it means, all you have to do is ONE SIMPLE TRICK. get up and trot over to get your copy of camp damascus, we can do this together. NO JOKE BUCKAROO go get your dang book.

got it? good job bud. here we go

read the last sentence of the book

now immediately go back and read the first sentence

[shoshiwrites]

Prompt requested by @kmk1701d, "a kiss while in close proximity." Thank you so much, Katt! A big bouquet to @junojelli for all things backyard garden, and to @basilone for talking me through at least seven different ?!?! moments ♡ Bucky Egan/War correspondent OC, also on Ao3! Warning here for emetophobia [brief, non-graphic].

september song

A package finds her in Norwich, under the September sun. It’s covered in stamps and ink, pressed haphazard over Evie’s careful hand. Jo carries it out to the back garden, a glass in one hand and the stuffed envelope in the crook of her arm, holding a notebook and novel and pencil besides. It’s optimistic, the amount of things she’s carrying, like she won’t just want to sit and laze under the trees, feel the sun on her face, sip her weak tea.

It’s become a place she goes when she needs something like rest, the oasis that’s hardly one if she thinks about it — the Anderson shelter and the squash blossoms and the cabbages. But there’s the sun on the red brick of the house, the little potting shed, the trees bearing russet apples and the ivy and the last lingering clematis, the scent of it like almonds.

In the summer, the June and July evenings, she’d sit out here with whichever correspondent was staying in the room next to hers, or play cards with the land girls down from Manchester and Hull. Kay had brought drinks out from the kitchen, little cocktails in haphazard glassware sweet-talked out of the housekeeper’s care, Kay’s spectator pumps clacking on the flagstone path.

She slides a fingernail under the lip of the envelope, wincing as the paper snags. Nothing inside seems to be damaged, though. There’s a letter, a packet of photos embossed with the name of a Philadelphia studio, a few more tied with a white ribbon. The ones Angelo took, Evie’s letter explains. Evie’s fiancé — husband, Jo mentally corrects now — is a hobbyist photographer, as much as finances and the war allow. There’s a smaller envelope too, with a few flower petals dried and pressed between. White roses, from Evie’s bouquet.

Guilt washes over her — Evie doesn’t know about William, about the whole awful mess. Nobody at home does. Kay knows, she’d had the front seat to the aftermath, the whiskey thrown up in the bathroom and the thumbnails Jo had bit down to the quick. Kay had brought her ginger ale and brushed back her hair and told her the war needed Jo Brandt, not Mrs. William Merrick. Jo had smiled and told her that was hogwash, but nice hogwash, and then promptly thrown up again.

She hadn’t been able to sour a letter home with it, what seemed like such petty personal news.

The photos, of course, are beautiful. The studio shots of Evie and Angelo, Evie in the suit Jo knows is dove-gray gabardine, light enough for summer, and Angelo with the tie pin Evie gave him the last Christmas Jo shared with them stateside. The family posed in front of the altar, and outside the church. Angelo’s shots are of the reception after, and Evie outside on the sidewalk. The sunlight catching her earrings, the beading on her Juliet cap, filtered through her birdcage veil. There are the hydrangeas in vases, and the table set with a small cake and hors d’oeuvres, the homemade wine, the cousins sat on Evie’s lap. Angela and John asked about you of course, Auntie Jo.

Evie steals the camera for a few, Angelo with his jacket off and shirtsleeves rolled up, looking every inch the man in love. Like he hasn’t always looked at her like that, every day of their lives. Jo feels still, all of the sudden, just now hearing the birdsong over the walls, too caught up in the photos and the love that pours from each word of Evie’s letter. I don’t know if it will still be in fashion, she writes, but you’re welcome to the cap and the earrings. They would look so nice with your hair, Jo. You’d be welcome to the suit too, but I know you have something white planned for the family. William’s family, she means.

She swallows.

They hadn’t gotten to the planning, actually. Nothing beyond what was expected — the church, the white dress, the flowers, the reception back at the house with a dinner. There wasn’t a dress hanging in the closet, only the ring that now lived in the back of a drawer in her desk inside the house. The only official stamp was the engagement announcement in a Philadelphia newspaper. The one that ran months ago. She wonders why no one had pressed them to marry before they had both left for England.

She gathers the photos back into the cardboard sleeve, back into the package. Lifts the envelope of rose petals to smell the faintest scent, and then replaces those too. Leans her head back, thinks of fishing her sunglasses from her trouser pocket. She’s got a haphazard outfit on, the loose trousers and sandals and a button-down with the sleeves pushed up, her watch, her hair hastily pulled back. An outfit for a rare day with no appointments, only the scurrying of a reporter trying to finish something to send off. She’d made her edits in the morning, and gone over some of Kay’s contact sheets after her second cup of coffee. Maybe she hadn’t earned the rest, but it’s too nice of a day to not at least sit out around the lunch hour. She’ll be back in London under rainclouds soon enough.

She’s too uneasy to keep her eyes closed for long, thinking of wedding gowns and absent rings, wondering how she became the type of girl who needed a diamond.

Her mother had a silver band that she wore every day that Jo had known her. Jo guesses there were some things even her father wouldn’t have pawned for drinking money.

After she’d gotten up off the bathroom floor, Kay had told her of a cousin who was married for the fourth time last spring. This time to a count, Kay had said. Something in her eyes told Jo she didn’t think it would last. A few of the correspondents they know in London are divorced, or functionally so. Several unmarried, to various degrees.

She wonders how you become the type of person who marries four times. Did it mean you’d given up on a certain kind of love? Maybe they know something we don’t, Jo thinks.

She doesn’t have too much time to ponder the question. At once she hears the noise of the door behind her, the one from the kitchen out to the garden, and footsteps, and poor Muriel the housekeeper’s voice leading someone back out to Jo in her chair.

“- should be right out here-”

“There she is.” It’s half-crowing, affectionate. “Thank you, Muriel.”

How does he even know- She turns, replaces her tea carefully on a stepping stone. “Major Egan.”

Affectionately annoyed, at the title. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me John?”

She’s not surprised he found her through the front of the house, not surprised Muriel’s smiling affectionately at his back as she closes the door, as he walks over to her.

“Force of habit,” she says. A useful one, one to ought to keep if she knows what’s good for her. For any of them. Like they’re not a hundred miles past that by now. “What brings you up here?” She scans around for another chair, wonders if he’s already refused a cup of tea.

“Oh, I need a reason?”

She stills, suddenly feels her cheeks pink with sun.

“Buck’ll let you write about him,” he says, almost like a non-sequiteur. “Finally agreed.” She’s amused, faintly, by what that agreement might have looked like. He can read it on her face, nods a little along with her. “Just tipped his chin up like this,” he says, on the verge of smiling. “You know.”

“Wonderful,” she says, and there’s not a hint of shadow in it.

He looks at her lap, and her letter, and her book, and her pencil. “I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?”

That almost makes her laugh. Like he’s ever cared about interruption.

“No, I won’t get to a proper reply sitting in this chair,” she says. “Can’t write too well on my legs.”

“Any good news?”

Oh. She can’t lie about it, can she? The photo sleeve still in her hands. “Two dear friends were just married, actually.”

“Fantastic,” he says, the shine out of his voice, but no less sincere. He sounds almost quiet.

Before she knows it, she’s profferring the photo of everyone out on the front steps of the church, Evie squinting beautifully into the sun, Angelo looking at her, his arm around her waist.

“They look happy,” he says.

“Mmm.” She could keep talking, she knows. Maybe she’s afraid of what she’ll say.

He hands the photo back to her, his thumb careful against the edge. “This is a nice place you’ve got here.”

There’s a physical relief she feels, turning to something like the vines and the trees to talk about. Other than the photos. Other than the fact that’s he’s quieter than usual, has been for weeks. When he’s sober, at least. “I just enjoy it,” she says. “Not much help in the garden besides wheeling dirt around.” She can barely keep a window box alive. Her roommates only leave her in the company of plants with their very precise instructions.

“Can the major get a tour?”

She looks up at him, quirks something of a smile, squints over his shoulder in the sun. Like she didn’t just tell him she’s useless in a garden apart from sitting in it. “If I can’t offer you a chair, I probably should.”

He holds out a hand, lets her press heavily down on it as she stands. More than she thought she’d have to. Her things go in the chair where she’s just been sitting, the curve of sun-faded, striped fabric. It’d make a nice picture, Jo thinks. Kay would move a couple of things, maybe take a stray flower and place it to the side for a shot. Her hand feels warm.

She waves a hand over the shelter in self-explanation, watches him nod in seriousness. There’s the little stone path that leads to the back wall, more ivy, the late-season potatoes and heads of cabbage. There’s a rickety little folding chair against the side of the potting shed, and she assesses that maybe she’s the one who belongs in that, and him in the other. He’d have more trouble getting off the ground than she did, though.

There’s a nice slant of shade, too, between the shed and the wall.

“Anything good in there?” He’s nodding towards the shed.

She’s trying not to narrow her eyes. Trying not to think of a hundred things. She’s only ever poked her head in.

Before she can say something — dirt, gardening tools, who the hell knows — he’s taken her hand and ducked under the doorway.

She’s careful not to trip over the step, close to him now inside the tiny shed. There’s a counter bare of seedlings, now that it’s sunny mid-September, a few implements to the side, the back shelf lined with dusty pots and some old glassware, the rich smell of soil.

“Not much to see,” she says, which is a lie too, if you know how to look.

His voice is almost imperceptibly hoarse, and serious. “‘M not really interested in the tour, Josephine. Not anymore, at least.”

Her voice is faint, as his hands find her hips. “Might’ve guessed.” She can’t think about it, the letter or the photos or his voice, the edge of despair, of anger, her own empty hands.

There’s a moment as those own hands find him, the wool of his uniform, as they look at each other in the dim, filtered light. The dirty window. The silent asking, the way she stills, and lets him press his mouth to hers.

She winds back her foot, tries to kick the door shut. The action falls short, just barely, and he huffs a soft laugh against her cheek. Kicks the door back, for real, with his boot. He’s warm, from the sun. She imagines she is, too.

“Did Major Cleven really say we could do a feature-” she starts, and the face he makes is something she’d bottle if she could.

“Start by calling it something else, Josephine,” he says. “You’ll scare him off-”

Now that’s a joke, and she’d smile if she weren’t busy kissing him again, tracing her thumb along his cheek, his jaw, his ear.

Little surface scar-dings against his neck, raised tissue tinged red, and she can’t think about what flak does, how a person can’t be so easily repaired.

He’s pulling her closer, uniform pressed against the thin rayon of her blouse, keeping, she notices belatedly, her hair from a spider’s web behind them.

She tastes the faintest hint of ale in his mouth, against his lip and his mustache, and something else — something sudden and deep and sweet. He’s smiling, and she can see a tiny dark scrap between his teeth. He looks almost sheepish, like a kid caught with chocolate on his face before dinner. “I saw some blackberries on my way over here,” he says. “By the roadside.”

“Bring me any?” She’s smiling.

“Thought you might like to go uh, gather some,” he says, like it’s something he’s trying on for size. Gather. Like this is a novel set in deep summer, and not a war. “Had to see if they were any good.”

Maybe she’s being ridiculous — it’s all for the war, anyway. The squash and the cabbages and the apples and the potting shed revived after a decade and change gathering dust in the back of an old house.

She and her roommates will help Muriel put up the apples soon. Hattie and Nancy, the land girls, had mentioned making pies. Blackberry and apple — it sounds like something her mother would have made.

“Kiss me again,” she says. His mouth is tarter now, the tip of his tongue pressed against her teeth. She half-swallows a yelp as he lifts her to the counter, lets his hands settle back on her hips, trailing his mouth across her jaw. “New calculations, Major?”

“Tactical reassessment.”

A laugh bubbles in her chest, surprisingly heavy. “What’s your objective?”

“Top secret.”

Her fingertips play at the epaulet of one shoulder. “Not too hard to guess.”

“I don’t hear you guessing.”

She pulls him, gently, back to her mouth.

“You needed this,” he says, firm and a question at once. Something in her ribcage sings. “Couldn’t risk you not getting it.”

“Getting what?”

“A good kiss.” She drags her thumbnail gently across the back of his neck, the short hairs there, watches his eyelashes flutter ever so slightly. “Someone else might have, couldn’t risk that, either.”

She leans back a little, still tight in his hold. “Wouldn’t let them,” she says. Breathes, like it’s a secret, like she didn’t just say it out into the quiet.

She wants to stain her fingers picking blackberries with him, his mouth, hers. Hear about the moments he stole as a kid. Share her own. Maybe they can have that here, on a September afternoon.

[bebe-writes-stuff]

Baji x Reader - Part 2 with smut

Go read part 1

You groan, slamming your head onto the wall in front of you, as you reminisced about what happened last night,

"Regarding your last letter. Yeah, I'd love to go out with you. <3"

And that's what brought you here, trying to pick an outfit, for your date with Baji. You were simply losing your mind, should you wear a cool outfit, or a cute preppy one. You pulled out your phone, quickly scrolling down in your contacts to find your best friend, Emma.

"Oh, hey Y/n! What's up?"

You heard her cute voice, which calmed you a little,

"Uhhhh, help me please, Em."

You whined in a childish tone

"Oh-no, what did you do this time?"

She already sounded disappointed

"NOTHING!...I have a date and I'm not sure what to wear...please help me."

"Pfft, are you serious? You always look good though, I never thought you'd have the I-don't-know-what-to-wear type problem. Hmm, just wear whatever makes you comfortable, where are you going?"

"The mall, I heard there's a haunted house there. I wanted to check it out."

"Yeah, so just wear something comfortable."

You both kept chatting, as you put on and took off clothes. But then, there it was at the back of your closet. It was a short, white, dress you had bought a couple weeks ago. It was one of those neat and classy dresses. That hugged your body and it curves beautifully. You ran a hand down your body as you stared in the mirror.

"Damnn, who is that babe."

You finished off the look with a few stylish accessories, a new pair of sneakers, and finally a cute small handbag with a few mandatory things: deodorant, perfume, lip-gloss, napkins, earbuds, and some snacks for you and Baji. It was perfect. You did a little twirl in the mirror, before you heard the small ringtone of a notification on your phone.

Baji : Hey? I'm here, are you ready yet, beautiful?"

You smiled, already knowing he was here, because of the sound of his bike's engine. Peeking out your window, you saw him, he was leaning on his bike staring at his phone, waiting for you to respond, you guessed. You quickly snatched your phone as you sprinted downstairs and right out the front door.

"Hey Keisuke! Sorry if I kept you waiting, I was getting ready."

You said as you stood in front of him, catching your breath. Baji's eyes widened. He never really stared at girls, he knew they were pretty, but you, you exemplified a novel vision of absolute beauty. He got flustered, what does he do, a hug, a kiss maybe. His brain was going all over the place, his hand shot out...a handshake.

"Oh, a handshake. I mean, that's good too, haha."

You laugh nervously as you grasp his hand and shake it. Wow, he was strong, you could tell. The way he seems so big, compared to you, he could probably just engulf you fully with his presence.

"S-should we get going?"

He wanted the ground to split open, and swallow him whole. First, the handshake, and now, he stuttered.

"Sure, Let's go!"

You said, enthusiastically, hopping into the bike after him, wrapping your arms around him. He swallowed hard, as he felt the way you gently wrapped your hands around his midsection. No one was ever soft with him the way you were. His heart was racing. The ride was nice and peaceful. You rested your head on his back, while running your hand up and down his chest.

"Keisuke, you're so warm. Hmm, I just wanna stay in your arms."

You dozed off but you were brought back when Baji parked his bike, He gave you a helping hand off the bike.

"I already paid for the tickets online, we just need to make it in line first."

He quickly added as you jumped off his bike

Cute.

He thought.

You were both shocked when you already saw how many people were in the line,

"Woah, and here I thought, we were going first."

You muttered, quickly taking a spot in the line, Baji next to you. No one said anything as you and Baji waited patiently for your turn. Baji glanced down at your hand, it looked so soft, you had a few rings around your fingers. He quickly wiped his hand on his pants before courage kicked in, and he grabbed your hand nonchalantly. You peered towards him, staring at him for a little before he noticed and looked at you.

"What's up-"

You cut him off when you stood on the tippy toes before landing a tender peck on his lips he wasn't expecting which made his face explode with red. you grinned at his adorable reaction, little did you know what Baji had in mind.

"Ohhhh, it's our turn! c'mon let's go Keisuke!"

You were jumping with excitement, you've never been to a haunted house before. You went through a door, that seemed like a door for a dungeon, it was super dark inside. You grabbed his arm,

"Baji, you here?"

"Yeah, where are you though?"

Your heart dropped,

"What do you mean, I'm literally holding your arm-"

The light suddenly turned on, making you flinch and rub your eyes. You turn and look to your side, and a scream of pure horror leaves your throat. The person you thought was Baji, was instead, a very tall man, his face was wrapped with bloody bandages and a black clock around his body. You instantly felt regret, you wanted to leave, you couldn't do this. You took a few steps back, stumbling over something. You looked down, only for your blood to go cold. It was a person's head. However, before you fully fell, a strong pair of hands caught you.

"PFFT-C'mon Y/n, I thought you were brave. It's all fake anyway."

He laughed as he kicked the fake human head away, tears threatened to fall from the corners of your eyes, as you gripped onto Baji, shaking.

"Hey, don't worry, you're safe. I wouldn't let any of those ugly, busted up fuckers touch you. Okay?"

You quickly nodded, sniffling, and holding onto his arm for dear life. Baji would be straight up lying if he said he didn't enjoy you like this. Holding onto him for dear, being all over him. He was in heaven, now he understood why most couples choose to see horror movies. But he'd also be lying if he didn't admit that all of the adrenaline from the haunted house and you being basically attached to him didn't affect his dick. He'd always thought he had good control over his urges but you continue to prove him wrong, your soft skin, your scent, they way your hands reach and grab anything on him so you don't fall, it all went to his dick, that was, oh so painfully hard. He was glad it was dark, or else how would you react.

"Keisuke, please, I wanna get out of here. This was actually a mistake."

You were out of breath as you tried to talk, Baji was smirking as he held you close to his chest, he felt how fast your heart was racing. It continued to feed his twisted pleasure, you were so small, like a prey.

"Shhh, it's okay. We're almost there, pretty."

He whispered. A chill ran down your spine, not expecting him to be so close to your ears but at the same time, you didn't realize how Baji was basically caging you in his arms. You felt your mind go mushy as you started to realize what's going around you with Baji. Suddenly, you felt a gust of fresh air that brought you out of your trance. You were breathing hard.

"Woah, you were seriously scared of that, it wasn't even that scary. Also, you didn't have to kick that poor lady, she was only doing her job."

He was holding back laughter, your reactions were super funny. You kicked and punched anyone that popped out at you and Baji, he totally recorded the whole thing.

"SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO POP OUT FROM UNDER THE SINK LIKE THAT, she had it coming."

You sighed before you cringed when you pulled out your phone and opened the camera app. You looked messy and sweaty.

"OH.MY.GOSH. I'll be right back, I need to go fix this mess!"

You were gonna run to the nearest bathroom before you felt Baji grab your wrist,

"Wait don't, you look...good."

"Wha-"

He cupped your face, moving his thumb against your bottom lip. There it came again, that sudden heat that only Baji sparked inside you. You got closer to him, reaching up to kiss him. He pulled you even closer. He was rough, it only made you melt even further into his touch. It was a deep kiss, that made you both forget how both of you were still in the middle of the mall.

"Here, let's go in here."

You whispered, pulling him into a photo booth and closing the curtains. You were both moving fast and risky, considering you both were still at the mall, but neither of you could resist the other, considering the constant tension building up between you two. He sat on the small bench and you straddled his waist, feeling his hard-on under you. You pulled him in by the collar, his breath fanning your lips as you sunk your lips into his, melting in his arms. Moaning when you felt his hips moving up and down, thrusting at your clothed pussy. You felt his hand hike up your dress, exposing your wet panties.

"Thought it was just me, but after seeing how wet that pussy is, you want me just as I want you."

You whimpered at his word of choice, he was blunt, so honest it turned you on even more, you were wet, wet for him, and the need of wanting to get full with cock only grew and grew until you were shamelessly humping his dick through his pants, just like a needy little slut, like a bitch in heat, waiting to be stuffed full of cock and cum.

"You're so fucking needy, I could tell you to do anything right now, and you wouldn't say no, right? You're my good little slut aren't you?"

tears formed in the corners of your eyes and your mouth slowly fell open as you felt his fingers pushing your panties to the side, the only thing keeping your dignity protected. Feeling his fingers pump in and out of your pussy, tightening every time you heard how wet and gushy your cunt became when he kept pumping, harder, and harder, and harder. You were holding back, and no way he was gonna let that happen. You threw your head back when you felt the fast and small circles directly on that throbbing little clit. You gasped at the wave of pleasure and euphoria that shot through you body, that had you shaking on Baji's lap,

"That's it, yeah, feel that orgasm baby."

After coming down from your high, and taking some deep breaths, you sunk down to your knees. You caught Baji off guard when you started pulling down his pants,

"I can't be the only one feeling good, that be selfish, right?"

You looked up at him with your pretty doe-eyes. Excitement ran through your veins when you saw the way his length shot up waiting for your dearest attention.

"Ngh, yeah, just like that. Oh fuck, yeah, just keep moving your hands like that, FUUUCK."

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pressed your cheek right up against his rock hard cock.

"You use your mouth, and don't get messy. Don't you dare drop a spec of cum out of the dirty little mouth."

You nodded obediently, as you parted your lips, taking his hard red tip tight into your mouth as your hands continued with their up and down motion. Twisting your head and taking more and more of him until he was reaching the back of your throat making you gag on his dick. Forcing your head down as he started thrusting deeper and deeper into your throat,

"Ahhh, fucking hell, your mouth feels so damn good. Fuck, this mouth is mine, you hear me? All of you is mine, you're mine. O-oh shit, I'm close. Don't you fucking dare drop anything, ugh, fuck, fuck!"

He tugged your hair harshly as you felt the spurts and ropes of cum that covered your throat as you swallowed every drop. Finally, you gasped for air once he let his iron grip of your hair, his hand patting your head and brushing your hair back,

"God, I love you so fucking much."

[katsu-curry835]

Why Bisexual Jon Snow Could Work /srs

Jon Snow is bisexual and here's why.

Aight, I'm aware the queer rep in asoiaf is pretty eh for the most part. Sweets is cool, and Loras and Renly have a nice implied relationship but Dany and Cersei having gay sex scenes felt way more fetishized than actually meaningful representation, especially since neither character considers a romance with a woman. Because of this, I'm gonna say that while I think this could be a valid direction to take the story, I'm like 50% sure that GRRM won't write it. Then again, it's been so long between books that times have literally changed and FnB seemed to have a ton of queer relationships so who knows.

Ok, ok, so I've laundered my argument; we all know why we're really here. Jon Snow could be bisexual and that could be really important for the story. Why?

First and most obvious is that it's another parallel with Dany. Jon and Dany have had storylines that directly mirror each other, especially in books 3 and 5. Dany is confirmed bisexual by the narrative, since she has regular sex with her handmaiden Irri, although because of her position of power over her, she tries to limit them. And, as already mentioned, she never gets to be romantically attracted to a woman. Maybe that's coming in future novels, who knows, but all that to say Dany and Jon mirroring each other on the bi front is not inconceivable, especially when you consider that there is already evidence for Jon being bi.

I'm sure most of you deep into this discourse(?) have probably predicted that I'm going to talk about Satin. And if this story does go in the 'Irri' direction, Satin is definitely the candidate for Jon's male love interest. He's a former prostitute from Oldtown, which mirrors another of Dany's handmaids (Doreah I think) and he's Jon's steward, like Irri is to Dany. Other characters also seem to think that Satin has kinda slept his way up the ranks to being Jon's steward, confirming at least that this idea is in GRRM's head. I wanna take a look at a few scenes and see how they could imply a future relationship between Jon and Satin. Take a look at this fight scene between Jaime and Brienne (I promise this is relevant.)

"'Give me the sword, Kingslayer.'

'Oh I will.' He sprang to his feet and drove at her, the longsword alive in his hands. Brienne jumped back, parrying, but he followed, pressing the attack. No sooner did she turn one cut than the next was upon her. The swords kissed and sprang apart and kissed again. Jaime's blood was singing...

...The dance went on. He pinned her against an oak, cursed as she slipped away, followed her through a shallow brook half choked with fallen leaves. Steel rang, steel sang, steel screamed and sparked and scraped, and the woman was grunting like a sow at every crash, yet somehow he could not reach her."

To me this scene has always read as implicitly foreshadowing Brienne and Jaime's future romance. Words like "kissed" or "grunted" or "pinned her against a tree" feel implicitly romantic/sexual, even the way the scene is described as a "dance." Jaime even says at a later point "Might I have this dance my lady" to mock her. Of course there is plenty more in the story as a whole that foreshadows Brienne and Jaime having a relationship, but I use this as an example because I want to point out how GRRM sometimes writes a fight scene as romantic and sexual foreshadowing, or at least that can be how some scenes are interpreted. Now I want to look at the scene where Jon trains Satin.

"It's too heavy," the Oldtown boy complained.

"It's as heavy as it needs to be to stop a sword," Jon said. "Now get it up." He stepped forward, slashing. Satin jerked the shield up in time to catch the sword on its rim, and swung his own blade at Jon's ribs. "Good," Jon said, when he felt the impact on his own shield. "That was good. But you need to put your body into it. Get your weight behind the steel and you'll do more damage than with arm strength alone. Come, try it again, drive at me, but keep the shield up or I'll ring your head like a bell . . ."

This scene reads similarly to me. Words like "jerked," "rim," "get it up," even the one word sentence "Come," can read as sexual foreshadowing in a similar way to Jaime and Brienne if you are given context that Jon and Satin do end up together. In particular, "ring your head like a bell" reminds me of a scene where Gendry gets approached by a girl but rejects her advances.

"I'm named Bella," the girl told Gendry. "For the battle. I bet I could ring your bell, too. You want to?"

I would be remised if I didn't mention that Jon calls Satin pretty three times in the chapter where he's supposed to be engaged in a battle with the wildlings. Like yeah, that's a bit weird, why are you thinking about that now Jon. Or I could mention the fact that he described Satin’s voice swearing his words as being like song and that he could smell the fresh sweet oils Satin rubbed into his beard. Jon… buddy you got something you wanna say? I’m joking of course: you don't have to be queer to recognize another man's beauty. What I think puts this into perspective is if you compare this to how he describes Val, someone who it's generally agreed upon that he takes an interest in.

Here's a quote where Jon describes Satin:

"The boy claimed to be eighteen, older than Jon, but he was green as summer grass for all that. Satin, they called him, even in the wool and mail and boiled leather of the Night's Watch; the name he'd gotten in the brothel where he'd been born and raised. He was pretty as a girl with his dark eyes, soft skin, and raven's ringlets. Half a year at Castle Black had toughened up his hands, however, and Noye said he was passable with a crossbow."

Now here's Val:

"Val stood on the tower roof, gazing up at the Wall. Stannis kept her closely penned in rooms above his own, but he did allow her to walk the battlements for exercise. She looks lonely, Jon thought. Lonely, and lovely. Ygritte had been pretty in her own way, with her red hair kissed by fire, but it was her smile that made her face come alive. Val did not need to smile; she would have turned men's heads in any court in the wide world."

I mean, the fact that "pretty" is a word used to describe both Ygritte and Satin is a connection that I shouldn't need to point out the significance of, but I digress. If you actually compare these quotes, both look like neutral descriptions of someone's appearance in isolation, however in context, you have to ask why the author shows you this stuff. Why does Jon comment on how good looking both of these characters are so often? It doesn't seem like there would be any other purpose to these, again, repeated descriptions of both Val and Satin other than to highlight that the fact that Jon finds both of them attractive is important.

Again, none of this proves anything outright. I mention this because this is the sort of thing where if you reread the books with this lens, suddenly more things start to jump out at you, and it can read like obvious foreshadowing you missed. Like when Catelyn sees her reflection in some armor and comments on how "drowned" she looks. It doesn't mean too much on a first read, but when you know what happens to her, it's some clever foreshadowing.

Another big reason I think Jon getting with Satin might be important is that you can see it as a pivotal part of Jon's character arc, specifically Jon's sexual awakening storyline. When Jon first has sex with Ygritte, she's the one who initiates the interaction. In fact she has been doing that the whole time he's had her hostage, teasing him with advances and mocking him for his inexperience. In the famous cave scene, Jon's thoughts are how he wants to bang her, but also about how it would be in conflict with his vows. That's the main reason he never has sex with her until she incites it on her own; it's not because he doesn't want to. It's because he thinks it would violate the words he swore at the weirwood.

So Ygritte begins this part of his arc, and Jon discovers that he likes having sex, how original. But he still feels reservations about it, during the act and afterwards. After all, his people resent him for being able to openly take a woman to bed with him, while they have to go to Mole's Town to dig if they want to get any action at all.

My view on this is that the story is heading in a sex-positive direction with respect to Jon. There’s plenty of theming about this “why is it a sin if it feels so good” etc etc. The books are full to the brim of people feeling needlessly guilty about having casual sex, Jon especially. Where I think this is headed, therefore, is probably something like a wildling understanding of sex; Jon has to view sex as Ygritte did, because that was always the healthiest way for him to go about it. Except this time, to complete his arc, he is going to need to take the initiative himself and embrace his desires like Ygritte did. Her teasing him for not doing this was trying to get him to come out of his shell. It would feel strange to me if this went nowhere. Jon needs a future romantic/sexual partner so that he can feel no qualms with taking the initiative with them. How he learns to do that is up to George but suffice it to say, however uncertain I maybe that this partner will be Satin, a future romance is in the cards for Lord Snow.

So Jon's in a bit of a bind here from a meta perspective. If we want him to complete his sexual awakening storyline, he's going to have to take the initiative himself with a partner without feeling any inhibitions. But he can't do that if he's still a brother of the Night's Watch because of the aforementioned conflict with his vows. But he's not going to stop being a crow, his vows are important to him. So how do we reconcile the fact that Jon's character arc about his sexuality needs to be resolved, but he also needs to keep to his words? Simple: make his next partner male so it doesn't violate anything.

I've actually thought this could work as a plot point for anyone either in the Night's Watch or the Kingsguard. One of these men surely has to consider at some point the obvious loophole of "so I can't bed a woman, but what about a man?" and how that affects their honor or whatever. It just slots kinda nicely into Jon's storyline here. Another reason it really works is that Jon is looking to socially progress the Night’s Watch: unity with the wildlings, defending Satin from homophobia etc. Him realising the obvious flaw of the vows for not considering that men can be romantically involved through his own experiences as a bi guy can help him begin to dismantle the outdated nature of the customs. He’s framed as this sort of reformer, and being a queer bastard (who is also probably the lost heir to the Targaryen dynasty) makes this thematically poignant. He’s an outcast, but also a king.

Of course, he’s always been an outcast, being queer would just help add to that. And this is just one way of writing this arc; I’m not married to this take on this basis alone.

I can so imagine a scene where Jon is having sex with Satin and the lit hearth is positioned behind Satin's head from Jon's POV and it looks like Satin's been 'kissed by fire.' Also, Jon considering how Ygritte would feel about him doing this and coming to that conclusion that she would be proud seems like a great way to end a chapter about the two hooking up because Jon's arc would be basically resolved.

This final part is something that I feel should not be left merely implied: Jon being canonically bisexual would be great representation. This is one of the most beloved and famous heroes in all of fantasy, hell, in all of modern fiction. Making him queer would be a really important step forward for queer rep that should not be underestimated. Verity Ritchie (VerilyBitchie on yt) did an excellent video essay on bisexuality in reality tv, a point from which I'm going to paraphrase: it's really hard to effectively depict bisexuals because any confirmed relationship with another character would look like they 'picked a side.' But in order to continually show someone's openness to sexual attraction to two or more genders, you risk going to far the other way, falling into the bisexual sex demon stereotype. This is a really difficult needle to thread, and is why we have characters like Nick Nelson constantly having to remind us that they're bi, rather than having us just assume they could be. Put simply, we need better bi representation, especially with men and Jon Snow is excellent casting for the role. His relationship to Ygritte is constantly referenced throughout the narration as something he treasures and misses, so there would be no doubt that he was not 'gay the whole time.' But, if the Satin story goes ahead, there can be no doubt he's not queer either. Literature is a great place to put bi characters, I think, since an internal monologue can remind you of past relationships with other characters of different genders and how they mean something to the character in question, but never undermining the integrity of the current relationship.

Me personally, I'd be buzzing for Jon Snow to be confirmed as bi. Really interested to see people's thoughts on this.

[vodika-vibes]

CONGRATS ON 500!!

Long time lurker, I am here every morning around work, and have reread most of your fics at least 3 times. Your writing is amazing!

Okay I'll stop gushing 🙈

For the follower event, I was thinking Kix, Emerald, and late night.

Thank you, and congrats again!! 😊

I'll Wait Forever

Summary: When an emergency makes Kix late to pick you up for your date he’s incredibly apologetic. What he doesn’t know, and what you need him to understand, is that you’d wait forever for him.

Pairing: Post-Stasis Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 830

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you for your nice comment! I'm so glad that you like my stories enough to come back to them! I hope this is close to what you wanted, you didn't specify, so I chose to go with Post-Stasis Kix rather than TCW era Kix. Both are swoon-worthy. My goal is to keep all of these under 1000 words. I wonder how I'll do, lol.

The fall of the Empire, and the rise of the New Republic, has made you a very wealthy person. Wealthy enough that you, and a group of your friends, were able to repurpose a Lucrehulk Class droid control ship into something a little more useful. 

As of now, and with the permission of the New Republic, the ship is home to over two million displaced individuals (many of Alderaanian descent), it’s also home to a massive shopping center, and is the home point for this sector's Bounty Hunters Guild.

It is a point of some pride, yes.

And, at this point, it basically runs itself. Which means that you only have to do a little bit of work to make sure it stays running smoothly. Which, for you, means that you have to play nice with the politicians in the New Republic.

But that only happens every so often.

Which means you’re able to focus on more important things.

Like writing your novel…and spending time with your boyfriend.

Both are very important to you, though you’re not ashamed to admit that Kix, your boyfriend, is far more important to you than anything else that you own. Including the ship that you currently call home.

He travels a lot, and you don’t mind, because in the end he always comes back to you. 

Speaking of said boyfriend, he said that he was going to take you on a date tonight.

You tilt your head back to catch a glimpse of the chrono on the wall, and you release a sigh, though there’s a smile on your face. It is well past closing time for all but the seediest of restaurants, which means no going out tonight.

Ah well. Such is life.

You flick your gaze back to the first draft of your novel, and you make sure to save your work before you set it to the side.

Time to make dinner, and if you’re lucky, Kix will join you for dinner. 

You meander into your kitchen and you put some water on the stove for the pasta, before you dig around your pantry. Might as well make a proper meal.

You’re about to put the pasta in the boiling water when the door to your suite slides open. Absently you pour the whole box into the water, before leaning back to look into the main part of your suite, and a bright smile crosses your face.

Kix is gorgeous. 

Tall and broad, with thick curly hair and an equally thick beard. The tattoo under his hair just barely peeks out at his temple.

You’d quite happily follow him into hell, if he asked.

Not that he ever would.

“Welcome home,” You chirp from the kitchen, “I started pasta for dinner, do you want cheesy bread or garlic. I have both because I have no self control when it comes to bread. It’s a problem.” You check the water and then leave your posting in the kitchen to walk over to him. 

He sets his helmet on the table next to the door, and then casts his gaze to you, something akin to guilt crosses his face when he takes you in, “I’m late.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You got all dressed up for me.” Kix says, his lips turning down.

“I got dressed up for myself. The fact that you also appreciate it is just a bonus.” You grin at him, and slide into his arms, your arms twining around his neck, “Now. Garlic bread or cheesy bread. This is a super important decision, Kix.”

His arms tightens around your hips, “I’m sorry, love.”

“It’s just bread, Kix. It’s not really that important. I can make both.”

He laughs softly, but there’s something almost broken in his voice, “I’m sorry for missing our date. Again.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s really, really not. You deserve better than…this.” He vaguely gestures to himself.

“I don’t want better. I want you.”

“Even though I neglect you?”

You slide your hands to his face, and you lightly brush your fingers under his eyes, “Hold on there, mister. You don’t neglect me. I have never once felt neglected.”

He tilts your head back, “How can you say that?”

“Kix,” You grin at him, “You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

You stand on your toes to brush your lips against his, “I’d wait forever for you. You’re worth it. I’d follow you into hell if you asked.”

He exhales sharply, his breath washing across your face, “I love you.”

You beam at him, “I know, I’m very lovable.”

Kix arches a single brow, and he moves his fingers to your sides, lightly tickling you, pulling a startled giggle from your lips, “Is that all you have to say?” He asks, a smile playing on his lips now.

You hop into his arms, his arms sliding securely around your waist to support you, as you kiss him deeply, “I love you too. Always. Forever.”

[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