#goose's greatest hits

[dumbbitchawards]

I cant understand people who are like "why is everyone in aziraphale's neighbourhood gay" like my brother in christ he lives in soho

[olsenmyolsen]

ok hear me out there is a severe lack of CarolKate fics, maybe Carol trying to prepare/teach Kate how to be a leader of the young avengers but they just end up incessantly teasing each other verbally until Carol gets fed up and puts a very bratty Kate in her place and shows her who’s boss

“oh yeah? make me” and “prove it” and “i bet *you* cant even do that” vibes

Thank you for reaching out! <3. I enjoyed writing this dynamic a lot! Also all of my requests so far have been smut... don't know what that says about you all or me.

Prove It (18+)

master list . maroon master list . dark master list

MCU AU (Kate Bishop X Carol Danvers)

Summary: Carol is training Kate to lead the Young Avengers, but the 23-year-old can't keep her mouth shut.

Word Count: 2K

Content: Sex, Fingering, Petnames Kink, Praise, Oral, Feelings, Pinning, etc

Carol watched as Kate rose up from the black mats in the training room yet again.

Kate was in dire need of some training, specifically hand-to-hand combat if she was going to be one of the leaders of the Young Avengers or whatever the hell Kamala was putting together.

Kamala Khan had talked to Carol about her own band of heroes for the last couple of months, but honestly, Carol put on a smile and tuned the hero from Jersey out most of the time.

"Okay, you got me that time, but that's because I was going easy," Carol smirked at Kate's words. "Oh really? What about the other twenty-nine times?" Kate put on a confident smile. "You wish it was twenty-nine times."

"No, it has been twenty-nine times. I've been keeping count." Kate's face fell. "Oh." Carol put her hands up ready to go again. "Really?" Kate asked, making Carol smile. "Yes. Now, come on, hit me."

"Oh, usually that comes after dinner. And with consent." Carol rolled her eyes as Kate laughed and put her hands up before her, pacing around Carol. The two of them had been going at it for at least an hour and a half, but Kate and her mouth had yet to stop.

Clint told Carol all about how great the archer was. But he warned her that she never stops talking. Like ever.

Carol was beginning to miss Goose and their quiet purrs.

Kate moved closer to Carol but made the mistake of moving her eyes to the point where she would strike—making it easy for Carol to lift her leg and collide with Kate's stomach. The younger woman stumbling back. "Jeez, I thought Clint said you took Karate or something?"

"He talked about me?" Kate ignored the rest of Carol's words. Carol sighed. "Yes, one of the world's greatest archers, but you still can't land a punch without someone hitting you first."

"Okay, ouch." Kate put her hands over her heart and faked being stabbed. Carol stopped moving and waited for Kate and her theatrics to be done.

It took another thirty seconds.

"Okay, kid, let's see if you can't resist telegraphing your moves." Kate made a face at the K word. "Ew, don't call me that." Carol and Kate began to circle one another. Carol looked slightly confused. "What kid? Doesn't Clint call you that?"

Kate lightly shrugged. "Yeah, but he's like a father figure, plus it sounds wrong coming from someone's mouth that isn't as old as him." Carol shook her head and laughed. "You know I'm technically over sixty."

Kate couldn't stop the words flying out of her mouth.

"Not with a body like that."

Carol stopped moving. Kate stopped moving. "Oh god. She's going to kill me." The Bishop girl whispered under her breath.

After a beat of silence, a glowing smirk grew on Carol's face. She had a new angle. "I see," Carol said, dragging her feet along the mat, slowly moving again. Kate stumbled before she also started moving. Afraid of what Carol would say and do.

"You're attracted to me."

Kate's mouth dropped. "No- I mean, yes, you're attractive, but no, I'm not- to you."

A blind man would be attracted to Carol Danvers.

Carol squinted. "You sure about that, honey?" Kate's eyes went wide as she gulped. Carol was having fun now. "Go back to calling me kid," Kate demanded, but Carol laughed. "Why are you afraid I'm bringing up some mommy issues?"

Kate exhaled. She needed to try and get the upper hand again. "And what if you are?" She replied. Carol shrugged after a second. "Then quit being a brat about it."

Kate's body grew warmer.

She licked her lips and opened her mouth. A little squeak came out before her words. "Well, maybe I just need to be put in my place." Carol raised an eyebrow and bit her bottom lip. "You got that right, sweetie." Kate's brain almost died, but luckily for her, she had the threat of Carol charging at her to worry about.

So she put her one leg back and planted her foot before lifting her other one to hit Carol, but the blonde was fast. She grabbed onto Kate's leg and dragged it down as she slid underneath Kate and her blue eyes.

Kate's face and then body hit the mat. Yes, in that order.

"Oh, Mommy's sorry," Carol said in a fake voice with a pout. Tingles surround Kate but she turned over onto her back and meet Carol's eyes. "You can't do that!"

"Do what?" Carol tilted her head with a smile. Kate huffed. She didn't know what she was yelling about. Either Carol grabbing her and pulling her to the floor or the nicknames.

"Like I said, Momm-" "Stop that!" Kate yelled from the floor. Carol took steps towards Kate until her body was over the younger woman's. Carol crouched over Kate. "Oh, you want me to stop?" Carol's voice switched from her fake, almost pornographic tone to her real one. "Let me guess, it's turning you on?"

A little frustrated, Kate lifted up and pushed Carol, making the blonde quickly shoot up and use her powers to catch herself from falling.

"Oh, okay." Carol took the hit and news well. Kate was red in the cheeks because of embarrassment, fear, and because Carol was right. The blonde crossed her arms over her white tank top. "You want me to stop treating you like the brat you are?"

Kate rose to her feet. Hands in front of her. "I'm twenty-three, not a fucking brat."

"Not with that attitude." Carol barked back. The training slowly works its way to the front of her mind again. On the battlefield, you couldn't waste a second having an attitude like this.

Kate was silent. "Okay. You want me to stop, baby?" Kate nodded. "Yes." Carol nodded and removed her arms from in front of her chest. "Oh yeah? Make me. Take me to the mat."

Kate let out a quiet sigh. Her body and mind were fighting for control, but she raised her hands and knew she needed to beat Carol.

"Atta girl." Carol winked in a sultry voice that made Kate clench her jaw and move towards Carol with a greater quickness than Carol had seen all day. Except Kate was still Kate and stumbled as she took a comprehensive step to the right, forcing her to launch forward into Carol.

But Carol was observing and moved her body to take the impact softer. Catching Kate.

Who then stepped on Carol's foot.

So technically, Kate did take Carol to the mat.

Kate landed on top of Carol as Carol wrapped her arms around the younger woman. The impact made a grunt slip from Carol's lips to Kate's ears. Quickly, Kate lifted her upper half off of Carol, and Carol's hands fell from Kate's back to her hips.

They stayed there as Kate looked over Carol's face. "Well, technically, you did what I asked," Carol smirked. "Y-yeah, I did." Kate stumbled as she felt Carol's rough hands squeeze her hips. "The problem is... I don't think this little slip-up means you're ready to lead a team."

Kate refrained from rolling her eyes—something Carol noticed.

"Oh yeah?" Kate whispered as she spread her legs wider on either side of Carol's. Carol nodded. "Yeah. Your attitude is still there, too." Kate moved her hands to Carol's and pulled them away from her body. She placed them onto the mat as her hands slid to Carol's wrist. Her body hanging over the blonde's. "I think you like it."

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you."

Kate couldn't win. "A leader takes control, Kate." Carol gently said into the space between the two. Carol was giving Kate an opportunity. Kate slowly leaned forward until her lips hung inches away from Carol's. She looked through her eyes to see Carol's blue ones telling her she wanted it.

Kate wrapped her hand around Carol's wrist and placed her lips onto Carol's. The older woman became intoxicated from one taste of Kate Bishop. Her soft pink tasted like lavender against Carol's.

The blonde could smell the body lotion Kate used in the morning. Kate could smell and taste the chapstick Carol loved.

As the two were becoming lost in one another, Kate began to grind her hips into Carol's—the friction causing a much-needed release of pleasure as Kate moaned into Carol's mouth.

Carol nodded and moaned as Kate's lips moved to her neck. Quickly, Carol lifted her arms up and wrapped them around her. Touching and feeling her skin.

Carol's hands burned with desire against Kate.

"Oh fuck, baby!" Carol moaned when Kate began sucking on Carol's chest.

Carol moved her hands down to Kate's sides again. She squeezed and slipped her hands underneath the seam of Kate's shorts. Kate moaned as Carol lifted her head to kiss Kate's chest. At the same time, Carol's left hand moved through Kate's untrimmed hairs. "You feel so good!" Carol groaned as Kate nodded with squeaks. "Oh fuck, Carol!" Kate cried out as Carol's middle finger ran over the wet spot Kate had.

Carol lifted her body with her powers and took Kate into her arm as she placed Kate gently onto her back. Her lips still attacking the you get woman's chest. Her middle finger was still pressing against Kate's covered wet pussy. "Oh, Mom-"

Kate stopped herself, but Carol heard it. She pulled her hand out of Kate's shorts and brought it to Kate's mouth. "Open." Kate hesitated. "I'm giving you orders, Kate." Carol reaffirmed with a commanding voice. "That's it. Be good for Mommy." Carol watched as Kate's mouth dropped, and slowly, Carol's finger disappeared as Kate's mouth wrapped around it.

"Keep sucking. Do you taste yourself?" Kate nodded with a muffled moan.

Carol was making her feel a way no one else had.

Carol, with a smirk, pulled down the sides of Kate's shorts as Kate helped kick them off.

"You're doing so well, aren't you, baby? Being good for your Captain! Your leader!" Carol husked as she spread apart Kate's legs. Her lips dragging up the other woman's soft thighs. "Oh, Kate." Carol leaned down and kissed the wet spot of Kate's black cotton underwear. With Kate's hand around Carol's wrist, she kept sucking and licking Carol's fingers until Carol pulled them out. Drool coating the younger woman's chest as Carol brought those same fingers to Kate's clothed pussy.

"You're so pretty," Carol said before pulling the black panties to the side. "Fuck Carol, you're so hot!" Kate whined. Carol loved hearing Kate come unglued.

"Oh, just touch me. Please!" Kate cried out. Her fingers ran through the blonde's short hair until she reached the back of Carol's head and pushed it closer to her wet clit. Carol gave in with a smile. "There you go, Kate. Command me!"

Carol was still making this a teaching lesson, and it drove Kate crazy.

"Just shut up!" Kate responded, turned into a loud moan as Carol's tongue hit the bottom of her spread pussy and worked its way to the top of Kate's clit. Flicking the hood before she slipped her middle finger up and worked it in a circular motion.

Even through the workout leading to this moment, Carol couldn't get enough of Kate.

And Kate was in pure ecstasy as Carol ate her out and finger fucked her better than she had ever had at college.

"Oh fuck! Oh, Carol! I'm about to cum!" Kate lifted her head from the black mat and arched her back. "That's not my name, sweetheart!" Carol replied as she spit on her hand and slipped it through Kate's wet pussy lips before returning to her clit.

And Kate knew what Carol wanted to be called, but it was too late as her legs began to shake and she started cumming.

Carol kissed up Kate's body as she came down from her high. Carol knew she would be too exhausted to do anything to her, but she was okay with it.

"I have to say..." Kate started as her breathing slowed. "That might've been the best training I've ever done." Carol laughed as her body hung above Kate's. "Is that right?" Carol asked.

Kate nodded. "Although I'm not sure if anything will stick."

"Oh?" Carol raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. I mean, if I want to be a leader, I have to learn from the best."

Carol went to open her mouth. Kate interrupted her thought. "From the best who's still around." Carol closed her mouth and smiled. "I'll make something out of you yet, Bishop," Carol whispered before she leaned down and softly kissed Kate. "You still need to prove it to me."

"Oh, I will." Kate kissed her again. "I will."

dividers by @/benkeibear

[trying-something-n3w]

Dracule Mihawk X Archer!Fem!Reader

Summary: After almost bleeding to death going up against an admiral you find yourself on a dark and gloomy island where your injuries get the best of you. Making your way through the ominous land and standing off with a baboon on steroids you stumble upon a seemingly empty castle. Little did you know that not only was the castle occupied but occupied by a warlord, the world's greatest swordsman in training, and... A ghost girl?

word count: +5k

Warnings: blood, fighting, Zoro being Zoro, ooc Akainu, reader gets a bounty eventually, stealing from the marines, intrigued Mihawk, unsuspecting Kobe, feels for Mihawk, slow burn

Author's Notes: I'm SO happy people seem to like Chapter 1 of Learning Curve (Katakuri x Valkyrie!Fem!Reader) Updates will be slow but I promise it'll be worth the wait! If you ask to be tagged in the series I will def tag you! Anyway! Here is my first Mihawk writing, not sure if it will continue but let me know if you want more!

The waves were aggressive in these parts of the sea and you knew it, you just didn't want to admit you didn't know how to sail on your own, especially in the grad line. The blood running down your abdomen wasn't helping either. You hiss trying to tether the sails so you don't drift off course in your little boat. With the rain pelting your face you genuinely didn't know which direction you were going you just knew you had to get far away from here. In the distance behind you, there sits a smoking marine ship up in flames with the distinct shouts of everyone trying to give hurried orders. Your bow lay thrown on the deck with your arrows scattered at your feet. Escaping was particularly hard not knowing a fleet admiral was on board.

 What was meant to be a small robbery turned into a wild goose chase the second you crawled over the port side where said admiral was enjoying his tea. You both stare at each other for a solid minute before you laugh, smile, and book it. 

Running through the ship grabbing anything that looked of value, your dodging skills came in handy when the bullets started whizzing by your head. You didn’t mean to catch the ship on fire, honestly, that was the admiral's fault.

All the halls look the same to you as you dip in and out of doors. Some meeting rooms, some with bunk beds, and some supply closets.

 As you make your way through a kitchen you snag a tasty-looking roll then come face-to-face with Akainu blocking the only other exit in the room. You turn to go back the way you came when three more lieutenants block your way. They bring up their guns as you raise your hands and slowly turn back to the admiral.  

“If you give up now we won't have to do this the hard way.” Akainu tried to intimidate you, tried to give you an out but to no avail, you only smirk in response. 

“Now where’s the fun in that admiral?” In seconds you draw your bow and an arrow of your creation to send it straight through Akainu. He turns part of his abdomen to lava to avoid the arrow, exactly what you hoped for. A thick wire was attached to the arrow you shot connecting it to your wrist brace. Hitting a switch on your bow the wire starts to coil around the arrow pulling your light frame through the air. Due to Akainu melting half his abdomen to avoid the arrow, you fly through him. You hit the wall hard outside the kitchen with a grunt. That'll bruise for sure. You cut the wire with a blade attached to your thigh and bolt to your left hoping to be heading toward an exit. Unbeknownst to you back in the kitchen the three lieutenants are panicking watching the lava eat through the floor, the hole getting bigger by the minute. 

“Well, what are you waiting for go after her!” Akainu’s voice booms. The three lieutenants scatter out the door they were blocking, one dropping his rifle and going after you. 

Continuing through the halls you bound past two smaller marines, one with pinkish hair and glasses, the other one with yellow hair and a weird bullcut. With the roll in your mouth,  you make eye contact with the pink-haired marine and wink. His face flushes but does nothing to stop you. Rounding through the corridors you come in contact with a few more trainees but you take them out easily. One you knocked in the head with your bow and another you choke tell he passes out. The last one was a little harder engaging in combat with you. His moves were slow, not aiming for any of your vitals so you swiped his legs and carried on.

 The alarms start to blare in your ears when you notice the smell of paint burning. You make it to the front deck of the ship, slamming through a door, when you turn to see smoke billowing out from one side of the ship. While fighting off a handful of men one tries to pull your hair. You grimace while giving him a crazed smile as you cut your hair severing his hold on you. To be fair he didn't have a good hold so thankfully there was more length left than you thought. You kick his stomach with your heavy boot and run to a dingy attached to the side of the ship. 

Before you can safely lower the small boat you hear a deafening voice calling for more backup on the side you were trying to escape from. You look up and see Akainu standing on the tallest deck, face contorted in anger. You panic and start cutting the rope with the dagger to get as far away as possible. Right before you cut the last line Akainu sends some of his lava in your direction shaped as, who would have guessed, the arrow you shot earlier. You lift your arm swinging hard trying to get through the rope before it hits you. As the line severs and the boat drops you get hit directly in the abdomen, straight to where you aimed at Akainu. The impact of the water was bruising, and the added sting from the wound made you groan in agony while trying to set sail. Thankfully it was not a direct hit, most of Akainu’s shot hit the railing of the ship as you fell. 

You drifted from the smoky ship, shooting your head up when you started to hear guns fire. Once the small sail was finally set you paddle to add the extra distance. 

This is where you find yourself now, struggling against a storm that came out of nowhere. The Marine ship is now a small dot in the distance as you struggle to tie a piece of ripped cloth around your burned stomach. After, you try to make-shift some shelter from the emergency kit on board to protect yourself from the storm. You tie one last knot in the rope holding the sail then take cover as much as you can. You take a moment to assess your wound before hissing and pulling your shirt back down. Becoming exhausted from your little adventure (disaster) the sound of the thunder becomes a thought in the back of your mind as you drift farther into a warm darkness. 

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

Waking up who knows how long after your extravagant exit you find your undersized rig beached on a gloomy island. You try to sit up but hiss at the pain shooting through your torso. You quickly squeeze the wound trying to stop not only the bleeding but the pain. Slowly as you hold your breath you use the side of the boat to lift yourself to your feet. In the distance can be herded wild screams from an animal you hope not to run into. You sway as you take in your surroundings looking from left to right. At the top of a mountain sits an old-looking gray brick castle. Occupied or not you knew you needed to get to some safe cover. Trying and failing to pull the dingy more onshore you give up and hurry to grab your bow and arrows from the makeshift tent on board. Turning to the line of the forest you hesitate only for a second listening to the monstrous noises. The burning in your abdomen makes you take the first step.

Pushing past the first couple of bushes and trees the light becomes scarce with how dense the woods are. You pick up a stick and start taking out spider webs before you run into them venturing forward. With your other hand holding your wound you hurry in the direction of the castle.

The ominous sounds become closer the deeper you go. Noticing a branch snapping and the rustling of leaves you believe something is following you. You pause for a brief moment and hear it again but this time from above you. You turn to look behind you, the shore a small picture in the distance. As you turn to take a step to move on your head gets dizzy and your vision tunnels. For a split second, you thought you were gonna pass out from blood loss but something else kept you awake. A blood-curdling screech sounds from above you confirming that someone or something was tailing you. 

You lurch forward and roll on the ground with a deep painful grunt before taking your bow off your back, pointing an arrow at the beast that made contact with the ground behind you. The earth shakes with its landing and your balance almost wavers. The beast stands tall on two feet with a sword in hand. It resembles other monkey species you've run into before but you still don't know exactly what you were up against. 

Before it leaps for you, you let an arrow fly at its face. You turn quickly and flee before you can see the arrow burst into a powder on the creature. You glance behind your shoulder not stopping while clutching your side seeing the pinkish hase dissipate and the beast falls forward looking very sleepy. You let out a breath you don't realize you are holding. You haven’t tested the sleeping powder before now so you are very satisfied it seems to work! Before you can fully celebrate you start to hear even more loud beastly calls from the trees above you. They swung from tree to tree after you causing your stomach to drop, they were gaining on you. You pick up your pace hoping it's not too long before you reach the castle. Pushing past some thick shrubbery you almost fall forward as you come across a wide opening. You realize it's a stone path leading to the front doors of the castle. 

Still clutching your bleeding abdomen you rush forward not realizing the sounds of the beasts fade the closer you get to said castle. This time when your vision tunnels and your limbs get heavy you fall against tall double doors. You reach your bloodied hand up and start to pound, it may look abandoned and you may be dying but you still have decent common sense no matter how fast you are fading. Knocking was polite. Your blood was a stark contrast to the clean wood of the double door. Just when you think the castle is indeed abandoned you hear a female voice call from within. It didn't sound like it was directed to you but to others inside. You take a stumble back hearing a lock click before the door creaks open. Before you see anyone you hear the female voice speak again. 

“This better be good enough to interrupt my baking sesh otherwise I swear-” Cutting in you feel warmth fill your mouth. 

“Help ple-” Instead of finishing the sentence blood pools your mouth and spills over. You lift your hand trying to stop it from leaking out but there is too much. 

The younger girl with pink hair and frilly apron gasps, eyes widening as she yanks the door wider. 

“ZORO!” She shouts and before you can comprehend it there is a male presence next to you. Your eyes water with the realization that you might not make this one out alive. 

The green-haired male lifts your figure and halls you inside. Passing the threshold you become limp in his arms.

“Perona get Mihawk now.” Zoro says sternly yet he stays calm overall. The pinkette disappears down some hall as Zoro walks you down some corridors. The lights overhead are fading with every blink. You clutch onto Zoro’s shirt trying to stay conscious. He eventually kicks a door open and walks into a well-lit room. 

Zoro is talking to you, asking you questions trying to keep you conscious. You don't understand the words he says but you can still see his lips moving. Zoro lightly sets you on what you assume to be a bed before he rushes over to a table with some drawers on it. 

Turning your head you try to speak but nothing but blood splatters the white sheets. 

“Don't do that you'll make it worse.” You hear in the distance. Zoro is back with rags, gauze, and other things you didn't quite recognize in your hazy state. You hear more than feel Zoro rip your shirt open before pressing a rag to your wound. You don't hiss or react only close your eyes and let the tears flow. In the distance you hear the sound of clicking heals and heavy footsteps. A minute or so later the door to what you assume to be a medical ward opens swiftly. The pink-haired girl stands in the doorway with a tall and intimidating figure behind her. 

The first thing you notice are his striking golden eyes. If you weren't dying you'd be blushing because of his intense stare. The second thing you notice as your eyes drift is the pinched look on the girl's face. Did you look that bad? 

“What is going on here?” The taller figure asks with a clipped tone. Perona, as Zoro called her, glances at the greenette and then back up at the man beside her. 

“We aren't 100% sure, she was banging on the front door and this is how we found her.” Zoro removes the bloodied cloth from your wound to examine it. 

“Mihawk this looks bad, it's a major burn wound and it won't stop bleeding from the main laceration.” Zoro turns on his heels to face the two. “If we don't do something she is going to die.”

Perona looks up to who you now know as Mihawk, his face is blank. You don't recognize the name at first in your state but you feel like you should be more scared of the man in the doorway. His eyes shift down from Zoro’s face to yours. You hope your eyes were expressive enough to get across your plea for help. Perona shifts uneasily as Mihawk stays still, unmoving. With a deep sigh, he uncrosses his arms and steps in. Rolling up his sleeves he proclaims, 

“Fine but you are in charge of her when she wakes Perona.” Some type of relief falls over your body and you sag with exhaustion. 

“Me!? Why me?!” Perona shouts at Mihawk for assigning her to nurse duty. Zoro gets out of Mihawk's way as he sits down to examine your wound. He feels your forehead, eyes slightly scowling knowing you are likely running a fever as well. Mihawk starts listing off things for Zoro and Perona to get for him to work on you but your consciousness is fading fast. Mihawk notices with a side glance and tilts his head to you. 

“Sleep. You won't want to feel this.” These are the last words you remember before the darkness takes hold of your body.

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

Two days pass unbeknownst to you. Your sleeping figure fighting against the wound and the fever. Zoro goes about his business training though stopping by whenever he seems to stumble upon the medical ward. His straight face was easily readable to Perona, knowing he was worried about the stranger lying unconscious in the bed. Perona was bouncing around the infirmary rinsing cool rags and setting them on your head, she also changed your wound dressings when she noticed them getting a little too red. Most of the bleeding stopped by the first night but every once in a while you would jolt in your sleep and a new gush of blood would slowly seep through the dressings. 

If Perona wasn't taking care of you she was sitting next to you reading and sipping on some tea. Mihawk hovers only to see when you would wake up. On the second night, everyone retires for the evening when you wake up with a start. You gasp with wide eyes as you try to remember where you were. The room is dark with only the moonlight and a single candle illuminating the wide space. Your hand makes its way to the throbbing of your side to find newly wrapped gauze and padding. You slowly move the blankets and shirt to look down at yourself. Admiring a job well done you try to sit up. The pain that shoots through you makes you hesitate but you push yourself. You swing your feet over to have them land on cool tiling. You notice you weren't in your original clothing, now sporting loose joggers and a loose-fitting top. You take a deep breath almost gagging at how sterile the room is, you could almost taste it. 

Taking small light steps you make your way to the door opening it slowly. You lean heavily on the door frame when entering the hall. You look both ways before you notice a very faint light coming from the end of the hall around the corner. Relying on the stability of the wall you make your way past paintings and doors. Once you reach the end of the hall you turn to find an archway about a quarter way down the corridor. Hissing at the sharp pain when you try to stand straight you step forward anyway. Reaching the warm light you now see a cozy yet large library with a fireplace burning on one side of the room. Your eyes widen at the vast collection of books. You take one step inside before you feel a hand grab your left arm. 

“You are supposed to be resting little one.” You gasp at the light hold and deep voice. Whipping your head to the side you meet the same piercing gold eyes with the same intense stare. You have to crane your neck to fully meet his gaze. You stutter trying to respond but before you can Mihawk is leading you to a sofa in front of the fireplace. A book lay abandoned on the arm of the couch which you assume he was occupying before you interrupted. He sat you down gingerly before taking a seat in the chair diagonal from you. You clear your throat when you finally find your voice.

“Thank you… For everything. I wasn’t aware this castle was occupied when I landed here but I am very grateful it was. All of you saved my life.” You stare into the fire mesmerized by the dancing flames. You glance at Mihawk nervous now conscious of who he was. First an admiral and now a warlord. What next? The king of the pirates? 

Mihawk sat frozen with his legs crossed and his hands conjoined above his mouth just observing you. You shift under his gaze and look back to the fire. Before you find the words to continue Mihawk breaks his silence. 

“The other two showed up in similar states. At this point, it's like I’m running a hospital.” You turn away and grimace. You knew you were being a burden but he didn't need to say it so coldly. As if reading your thoughts Mihawk continues seemingly unbothered. 

“Perona will be taking care of you as you burn heals. From the looks of your abdomen, you probably won't be able to sail for at least two weeks.” Your eyes widen at his words, just how bad did Akainu get you? Your eyes drift down to your wound where your hand already sat. You were in a good amount of pain right now all things considered. Probably not the best idea to wonder for too long. 

“Either way, thank you for your hospitality and I’ll work hard to get out of your hair soon enough Sir.” You don't meet his eyes but you can feel his gaze on you, his eyes raking over your body. To you, he’s analyzing if you were to become a threat. In reality, he was wondering how much longer you would stay conscious. You have some pretty heavy pain meds in your system now so for you to be holding a conversation was impressive. Not that he would admit that. 

“Mihawk is fine.” This is when you finally meet his eyes. Expecting his intense and methodical stare you were surprised to see curiosity and interest. You turn your head back to the fireplace in hopes the glow of the flames could mask your slight blush. His eyes were gorgeous when not giving someone the death glare. 

“Since you seem fine enough to hold a basic conversation, I am intrigued to know how you stumbled upon my land and home. Do tell little one.” Mihawk uncrosses his legs and stands. He walks over to a wine rack and picks a bottle easily. “Wine?” He questions without turning around. You take a chance to admire his back muscles while you can. 

“Please. That sounds fantastic. And the names (Y/n) for your information.” You wear a hint of a smile enjoying your banter with the warlord. Mihawk walks back to his seat across from you and sets down two wine glasses. He fills them equally and leans back taking a long sip. You grab yours and smell, you’ve always enjoyed a nice aroma to your wine. Taking a sip you lean back as well, relaxing on the sofa. 

“Well, where do I even begin? First and foremost, I am a traveling merchant. I get hired to do odd jobs as I travel around from island to island. My skills are a wide variety from handling a bow and arrow to basic construction to hunting people down. I like to keep people on their toes. Currently, I am between jobs, I was sailing to Water 7 when I came in contact with a Marine vessel. It was smaller, maybe a cargo ship. I thought since I am low on funds, what's a little scavenger hunt gonna do?” You take another sip of your wine before setting down the glass on the low table in front of you. Resting your elbows on your knees you warm your hands up and rest them against your face. 

“I didn't know there was a fleet admiral on board at the time. Let alone know it was Akainu.” You side glance at Mihawk and see the barest twitch of his eyebrows. You take that as a queue to continue. 

“I climbed aboard not thinking much of it at the time but I should have scoped it out more beforehand. I should have absorbed my surroundings and should have followed the ship for a while before boarding. There was plenty I could have done at the moment to prevent what happened but… I slipped up. I was starving, being out at sea for so long without food and water will do that to ya I guess.” Your shoulders slump as you sag backward. “At first when I got past him I thought I was in the clear. I should have known from the moment I set foot on the deck that I wasn't getting away unscathed. After running around for a while and tumbling through marine after marine he finally spotted my getaway. Before I knew it I was dropping a dinghy into the water and my abdomen was bleeding. My goal was Water 7 but a storm swept in. My old rig being left behind I set sail and hoped for the best.” 

You were leaving out key details like the amount you got off the ship or how you got jumped by a baboon on steroids on your way to his castle but he didn't need to know that. You open your eyes to look at the man beside you and notice he is looking into the fireplace. You couldn’t recognize the emotions you saw in his eyes but you assumed it was nothing bad considering you were still sitting next to the warlord. For a brief moment, you didn’t think he would say anything but he surprised you by setting down his now-empty wine glass and standing. You follow his movements out of your peripheral and take the last swig of your wine. Before a second thought crosses your mind Mihawk then extends his hand in invitation. You glance at his hand and then up to meet his eyes but he still looks towards the fire. You set your wine glass down next to his and proceed to stand. Or, attempt to stand, that is. As you flex your abdomine to gain balance a sharp pain runs through your stomach. You hiss as you drop back on the sofa. You look up to Mihawk again now understanding his gesture. You take his hand without looking at his face and he helps you stand on your own two feet. 

“You must be hungry. I always say a good wine requires a good snack.” Mihawk lets you lean some weight onto his arm as he leads you out of the library. 

“A snack sounds fantastic right about now.” As if in queue your stomach lets out an atrocious growl that reddens your face. Mihawk peeks at you while you look at a very interesting painting as if your stomach didn't drop an atomic bomb in the hallway. 

“With the looks of it, I’m surprised you lasted this long without collapsing. Undernourished and injured do not mix well.” It’s as if the briefest hint of a smile crosses Mihawk’s face. You barely catch a glimpse as your eyes dart to his. 

“As small as I seem I am one tough cookie thank you very much.” You retort as you raise your head high. “My skills with my bow did not come easily.” You say almost to yourself. Mihawk does not miss this. The rest of the walk to what you assumed to be the kitchen was silent. A comfortable silence as you admire the decor and photos. Most are of landscapes and waterfalls but one in particular caught your attention before you walked past a threshold. 

Sitting upon the bleak wall was a massive photo of Yoru, Mihawk’s beloved sword. You pause admiring the beautiful craftwork and detail in the painting. Mihawk glances at the painting before down at you. His gaze sweeps your face admiring the awe in your eyes. He’d never admit it but the look on your face now was almost as beautiful as the painting you admire. With your mouth slightly open and eyes wide you take your time to absorb the scene. Yoru stands tall in the center, leaning up against gold and jewels. The gold cross-guard somehow shone brighter than any piece of jewelry in the painting. The black blade is a contrast to the vibrant colors of the gems surrounding it. Your breath catches in your throat as your memory is thrown to your beloved bow and arrows. 

“My stuff. Where is it?” Your voice was slightly colder in tone when you spoke. Mihawk lets you lean against the wall next to the painting of Yoru and takes a step away. He turns and crosses the threshold to the kitchen before responding calmly.

“Your things are in a guest bedroom you will be moving to after you eat.” You visibly calm, the tension leaving your body. You take one last glance at Yoru before proceeding. Your bow and arrows were your most valuable possessions, a gift that could never be replaced. You support more of your weight on your feet as you follow Mihawk. You venture to the island in the middle of the room and sit on a bar stool. Mihawk opens a pantry pulls out a loaf of bread and makes his way to a refrigerator. He proceeds to pull out some ingredients and begins to make you a sandwich. To your amazement, you find a delicious meal presented to you on a porcelain plate within a minute or so. 

“Again, thank you…” You glance up at Mihawk before you continue. “You know, for a terrifying warlord you’re very sweet.” 

You look from the food to him again. He stands across from you leaning up against the opposite counter. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you can't help but notice the veins running down his forearms and into his hands. A shiver runs down your spine and you take a big bite of the sandwich averting your eyes. Before you can question if Mihawk saw you staring he takes a couple of steps forward resting his hands on the island you sit at. He acts as if your last comment was never said.

“For the next few days, I don't expect you to be up and walking as much. Once you are however we can discuss payment options for my… Services.” Mihawk says with an earnest gaze. Swallowing hard you set the sandwich back onto its place in front of you. Trying to sit up as straight as possible you meet his eyes head-on, trying not to seem intimidated or nervous even when your stomach was in knots. However, you couldn't tell if it was from hunger or anxiety.

“Of course, I understand. Whatever it is I’ll do my best to pay you back. You did save my life after all.” Mihawk just hums in reply and stands. 

“Finish your food and I’ll assist you to your room.” With that, he steps out of the kitchen for a moment. 

Taking this opportunity you shove your face with the delicious sandwich. Nothing has ever tasted so good after weeks of no food at sea. You slow down reaching the last few bites of the sandwich wanting to savor the flavors like it's your last meal. With your life, you never knew when your last meal was going to be. Licking your fingers and patting your stomach you sigh. With the food now in your full stomach you take a moment to look around the Kitchen. It's a decent size even with the island in the middle of the room. Plenty of cabinets lined the tall walls and a pantry sits in one corner. You wonder if Mihawk likes to cook. With the look of how clean it was he either loved to cook or never did. You stand gingerly trying to walk without the support of a wall or counter. You felt confident the first few steps to the sink but right when you thought you were in the clear a stabbing pain flew through your abdomen making you cringe and fall forward. You were able to lightly toss the plate onto the countertop before hitting the ground on your knees. Before your face falls flat on the hardwood an arm comes across your chest. Even with your hair now blocking your face you knew it was Mihawk from the solid frame and sweet red wine breath. One hand clutches his arm as the other goes to your wound. You inhale sharply feeling yourself start to sweat from the pain. 

“Let's get you to your room shall we?” Mihawk’s warm breath fans the top of your head, you squeeze your eyes shut trying to will away the pain.

“Give me a second to catch my breath and I-” 

Without warning you are lifted into the air and pressed against a warm chest.

“Please, if you walk now you'll reopen my stitching.” Mihawk begins to walk gently out of the kitchen to a tall set of stairs by the front double doors. You can’t say anything with the warmth that spreads across your face. Hawkeye freaking Mihawk is carrying you up to a guest bedroom and you think your heart is about to jump out of your throat. Whether it is from butterflies or anxiety you couldn't tell. 

Mihawk observes you for a brief moment noticing you hiding your face with your hair but chooses not to say anything. He knows his presence is intimidating and even though that is not his goal he can't help it. The persona he has built over the years as an intimidating warlord has protected him and haunted him. Yes, he may not be actively trying to participate with a group of pirates but no one ever said he never got lonely. With Zoro and Perona around, their presence has helped him realize he wouldn’t mind having someone around permanently possibly. Someone he knows is always going to be at home when he returns. What circumstances of the relationship with that person were still unknown to him but having another body around would be nice, to say the least. 

Reaching the top of the stairs Mihawk turns to the right and passes a couple doors before stopping in front of one that was slightly ajar. Using his elbow to open it all the way Mihawk turns to not hit you on the door. He walks over to the king-sized bed that was situated at the far wall of the room and lies you gently on the covers. You take in the room, your head on a swivel when you notice all of your belongings on the desk up against a wall. You visibly relax as you turn your attention to Mihawk who is now at the end of the bed. He gestures to a small tray lying on the trunk stationed at the end of the bed.

“If the pain gets any worse take these and they will help you sleep. In the morning I’ll let Perona know you woke up late in the night and she will meet you for breakfast.” Before Mihawk could turn away and exit he gets caught frozen in place. You sat situated in the middle of the bed now, hair frazzled from days of not being washed yet the look you give him makes his heart skip a beat. Your appreciative gaze is crinkled by the wide smile you show him. You look younger, not injured. Your cheeks are rosy from the cool night air and your nose scrunches with your now Cheshire cat smile. 

“Thank you Mihawk, truly. I look forward to speaking with you again.” You open your eyes once more and you could have sworn you saw the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink. Before you can see, Mihawk is turning towards the door and making his exit.

“Likewise little one.” 

[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

[ellie-24]

USS Randall Ramblers Part 6

This is a birthday present for one of the coolest people I know @whositmcwhatsit . She had a wonderful birthday present for me earlier this month and then cleverly reminded me that her birthday is coming up as well. Wink wink nudge nudge say no more.

I ain't much but it's honest work and I hope you enjoy it.

Also thanks to @thatbanditqueen for beta-ing and helping me transform this into proper English!!

And thanks to the wonderful writing support group @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love @lookingforrainbows @missmaywemeetagain @powerofelvis @shakerattlescroll @peskybedtime

Word count: ~7.4 k

Warnings: smut so 18+. MDNI

Previous Part

Bad Nauheim, December 24th 1958

It all just felt like a dream. A surreal dream.

Mary was only supposed to come over and visit him in Bad Nauheim for his 'Welcome back' party after his maneuvers in Grafenwöhr.

She was supposed to be back in Frankfurt to celebrate Christmas with her family.

She was supposed to sleep in her own bed in her own room at Hotel Grunewald.

Now, after a very long, nerve-racking phone call involving her, her father, her mother, Vernon Presley and of course Elvis himself the previous day, she found herself staying until Boxing Day.

And even though she wanted to obey the rules her parents had laid down before she went, she somehow found herself sneaking into his bed after dark every night.

There was no denying that being the centre of his attention had to be one of the greatest feelings in the world. Who was she to say no to him when he'd give her those puppy eyes, which he knew made her knees weak every time, and ask her to spend Christmas with him? Or to spend the night in his room, in his bed?

But for now, she wouldn't want it any other way. And although it was wrong, something about the way he'd pull her close to him in his sleep just felt right. Consequences didn't matter when she could feel his pillowy lips press against her forehead while she was drifting off to sleep.

She could just live this dream forever.

With an irritated sigh Mary raised her arms to shield her eyes from the horribly bright light suddenly shining right into her face, disrupting her peaceful slumber.

When this didn't have the desired effect she began to blindly wave around, in an attempt to slap away the flashing sensation. Her hand promptly hit something cool and hard with a dull thud and she let out a small gasp at the stinging pain in her wrist.

"Careful, Cherry, you're gonna break it."

"Huh? Elvis, I was asleep." She mumbled with a frown while rubbing her aching wrist.

"You're awake now honey, that's perfect." He held out a flashlight to her. The very one he'd held right into her face before. "Do me the honor, please."

"What?" She muttered, pressing her hand against her forehead, trying to make sense of his words. Her eyes fluttered closed again.

He shuffled closer, making the mattress bounce up and down for a second. "I wanna show you something, come on." He insisted and started tugging at her wrist before handing her the flashlight.

"What?" Mary repeated while squinting her eyes at him, still feeling disoriented.

He snorted. "You're asking an awful lotta questions honey, just trust me."

Mary reached out and grasped his arm, slightly pulling him towards her again, wanting nothing more than to just cuddle up against his chest again.

"It can't wait till morning?" She asked with a hopeful tone and tried to stifle another yawn. Unsuccessfully. The thought of leaving his cozy and most importantly, warm bed already made her shiver.

As if on cue, damn his psychic abilities, he pulled the blanket off of her. "Come on, Cherry, don't be no party pooper." He insisted with a small grin.

"I don't see a party." Mary grumbled, goose bumps all over her body as she got up, the flashlight still in her hand. "Okay, you won." She offered, playfully swatting at his chest.

Swiftly dodging her attack he wrapped his arms around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. "Thanks baby, now come, won't regret it."

It was one of those situations where she was asking herself how she ended up here. Sneaking through the dark corridors of the hotel at four in the morning for who knows what reason.

Well, actually she knew exactly how she ended up here. Being with Elvis always involved some kind of nocturnal activities. He didn't sleep much, that much she'd gathered in the time she's spent with him already. And he didn't like being alone.

He still had his arms around her as he guided her down the first flight of stairs. Suddenly, he let out a snort and stopped at a random guest's door. "Watch this." He raised his hand to knock, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Elvis, don't you dare!" Mary hissed and glared at him, once again remembering the talk she had with with had with Otto, the hotelier, regarding Elvis and his friends’ behaviour. Especially Red and Lamar who, in their free time while Elvis was at the base, had nothing better to do than test his patience with one childish prank after another. More than once Otto had considered kicking out the entire entourage. And to be honest she didn't blame him.

"What exactly did you want to show me?" She asked quickly to keep him from really knocking at that damn door.

He lowered his hand and nudged her forward with a smirk, down the next flight of stairs. "Otto has told me all about the ghosts haunting this place, honey, it's some scary stuff, I'll tell ya. There's the one about that young woman falling off the balcony a hundred years or so ago. Apparently her name was Mary and she also happened to be the prettiest girl in town, just like you, honey."

"Not funny!" She didn't want to sound scared, but those creaky old stairs and the flashlight in her hand, though very bright, being the only source of light made her feel like she was in a Hitchcock movie.

"Not to mention the Christmas spirits." He continued.

Mary stopped and raised an eyebrow, facing him. "You really think I'm gonna believe you? Sorry Elvis, I don't believe in ghost stories."

"Careful honey, starting to sound like ol' Scrooge."

"And you're sounding silly. Why are you ruining the holiday with ghosts? I've always loved Christmas. Look-" She gestured outside the large window next to the stair landing, looking at the snow covered street at the old light pole adorned with milky white Christmas lights. "It's so pretty."

It was peaceful, silent for a while as she simply watched the snow fall, it was hypnotising. Silent Night.

"Boo!" Elvis' hands wrapped around her waist from behind, scaring her.

Mary let out a soft shriek and felt the flashlight slipping from her grasp. Knowing what was about to happen but unable to do anything about it with her bad reflexes, a small curse just left her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, awaiting the inevitable bang. When the flashlight collided with the carpeted floor, a dull thud echoed through the hallway. It gave out, shrouding them in complete darkness.

For a few seconds neither one dared to move, both frozen and awaiting someone coming down the stairs and scolding them like they were two kids sneaking out of bed to steal some candy. After a few seconds of undisturbed silence they agreed with a mutual sigh of relief that the noise apparently didn't rouse anyone from sleep.

"Great, E!" She finally whispered with a small breathless laugh, a hand over her rapidly rising and falling chest, her eyes only slowly adjusting to the darkness. She stretched out her arms, not wanting to run into the wall on accident as he bent down next to her.

"Cherry, did ya have to throw the damn thing away?" He chuckled, though there was a hint of frustration in his voice while he was looking for the now broken flashlight.

"Did you have to scare me?" She shot back with a snort. "Can you find it?" She asked after a while of him crouching on the floor.

The only answer she got was a low hum.

"What is it?" She inquired when she suddenly felt his feather light touch on her exposed calfs, making her gasp. "Elvis?" She asked, an edge to her voice.

Elvis didn't respond - instead he slowly lifted the soft, white fabric of her knee-length nightdress and threw it over his head in a swift motion.

"Elvis!" She nearly squealed, scandalised, before looking around frantically and pressing herself against the wall behind her, kind of hoping to just melt into it.

"Hmm?" He hummed, his nose brushing almost carefully against her thigh.

"Oh god, what are you-" A quiet moan escaped her when his hands ran over the back of her thighs, inching higher and higher until they rested right beneath her butt.

"Someone's wearing no panties. Naughty."

"Well I didn't expect-" Mary let out a little cry when he pressed a small kiss to her inner thigh, her toes curling against the carpeted floor.

"Gotta be quiet, otherwise everyone will hear ya." He mumbled, his hot breath fanning over her bare skin.

"E, that tickles!" She whispered, trying her best to sound stern.

"Just want a little taste of my sweet Cherrypie." There was this pleading tone in his voice that would just transform her into a puddle. Mary actually thought her legs would give out as he lightly nibbled at her soft skin, his big hands now fully sprawled over her butt, pressing her closer to his face.

"But, you can't-" She breathed as her back arched against him. Treacherous body.

"Can't show my favourite girl how much I'm smitten with her? And her legs? And her-" Mary's hand shot up to muffle the shriek escaping her when his lips brushed over her mound.

"Oh god! Not here!" She argued weakly, her voice as shaky as her legs.

Mary's eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and she saw his head appeared from under her nightgown. He grinned up at her. "I won't tell if you won't, honey." He drawled nonchalantly.

A huff escaped her - frustrated and excited at the same time. She was at such a disadvantage with him and they both knew it. But she couldn't say she didn't enjoy the power he had over her. A word, a touch and she was at his mercy, but she trusted him. So she decided to just let herself fall into his touch.

He sensed her silent agreement and tightly gripped the back of her knee before lifting it over his shoulder, supporting her weight - and giving him easier access. Then he used both hands to slowly, agonisingly slow, push the soft cotton up her legs, only to pause and consider, his full lips pursed. She made her impatience known by pressing her calf against his strong back, urging him closer.

He clicked his tongue with another smile and shook his head before swiftly gathering the fabric and bunching it up at the center of her stomach. He looked up at her, his eyes twinkling. "Mind holding that for me, Cherry?"

She nodded mutely, then shook her head, not sure about the correct way to answer his question. Everything seemed a bit hazy as she closed her fist around the fabric.

He tapped the side of her thigh and winked at her. "Just have to look at ya, honey." His voice was just above a murmur as he took in her body for a moment, illuminated just the tiniest bit by the dim streetlight and the reflecting white snow. That concentrated look was back on his face as he rested his cheek against the side of her thigh. He did that quite often when they were close like this, like he was trying to take a mental picture.

The thought did nothing to diminish her arousal and she couldn't resist running her hand through his soft hair until it rested on the back of his head. With a wanton sigh she tried to push his head towards her, needing to feel his touch, his lips.

He obliged and leaned forward. Eyes closed in anticipation, she shuddered when his nose bumped against the soft flesh right beneath her belly button. He placed a few kisses right where the waistband of her panties would be had she worn any till his eyes found hers again. "I'm real glad you're here, Cherry. Don't know what I'd do without ya."

She nodded, his words only increasing the building pressure in her lower belly, her hips rolling in an effort to get some friction. He chuckled as he got her message. "Gotcha, no more heartfelt talk. I'm a man of action after all.” He started teasingly running his tongue over her slick folds.

"Don't stop, god, please don't stop, E." She chanted, holding onto the wall behind her, fingers dragging over some weathered paint that had begun to peel off.

"You're so wet for me." He groaned, his lips closing over her little nub. His hand roamed over her hips, over her stomach as his searing touch making her body convulse. Nerves and excitement mixed together, each little sensation and fluttery touch intensified by the notion that someone could walk in on them any second. Somewhere deep inside she was still rather scandalised, both by his sudden advances and her own lack of ability to care about it.

But all coherent thoughts were abandoned when he cupped her breast, squeezing lightly. A flick over her nipple with his thumb made her buck against him once more, her mouth hanging open in a silent cry. He suckled on her, increasing his speed, churned on by the way she was letting herself fall more and more; Literally - judging by the pressure on his shoulder where her thigh rested he had to use his hand to hold onto her hips or she'd collapse under his touch. It just took a few more strokes from his hot tongue and his strong hands squeezing her soft flesh until she came undone, stifling a loud moan that would surely give them away.

She finally sank down on the floor next to him, her chest heaving. "Elvis, please I want you." She breathed, not really recognising her own voice.

He caught her by her waist as she attempted to straddle him and carefully set her down again before shaking his head and kissing her forehead. "No, Cherrypie, not like this, not now."

"When?" She urged, her hand on his cheek, making him look at her.

He turned his head and kissed her palm. "Soon. For now I just want you to stay as you are." Upon seeing her frown he grinned and tapped her nose. "Now, don't give me that look."

She shook her head and leaned in to press her lips against his. With a dreamy sigh she opened her mouth when she felt his tongue urgently gliding over her bottom lip. Again, he didn't allow her to take control as he explored her mouth. She could taste herself on him and couldn't help herself but smile into the kiss. Eventually he pulled away from her. "Easy, not trying to win a race here."

Mary wrapped her arms around him. "So, was that what you wanted to show me?" She whispered, still breathless, cradling his head to keep him as close as possible.

"When I was down there, I just couldn't help myself honey."

A bashful laugh escaped her at this admittedly charming way of dodging her question.

"And look what I found." He proudly held up the broken flashlight.

She threw her head back. Silly man. "So much for your supposed 'ghosts'."

He licked his lips with a grin. "Don't know 'bout you, but I sure as hell heard some moaning."

"You're impossible!" She gasped, then let out a small laugh. "But I do love you, E."

"Love you too, Cherrypie. Come on now." He got up and held out his hand. Instead of leading her back to his room he made his way down another flight of stairs until they arrived in the hotel lobby.

The large christmas tree in the corner and it's decorations cast a warm glow over the room. She tapped one of the wooden nutcrackers hanging off the tree, reminding her of her favourite ballet, while Elvis made a beeline towards the connected dining room and peered out of the window. He craned his head as if looking for something specific, his hand perched up against the glass.

It slowly dawned her that whatever he was doing right now was probably the actual reason for their little nightly excursion.

"I knew it. Of course that tramp is still here." He muttered after a while.

Mary came up to him and tried to follow his gaze. "Who?"

"It's her damn car." He gestured outside.

Oh. Dee Dee.

"Daddy's probably gonna make her leave before everyone's getting up, thinking he's real smart about it." He started pacing around while Mary just helplessly stood in the corner watching, not knowing what to do or say to him.

Elvis continued, his face contorted in anger. "First he invites her to my party the other day, now they're doing, hell, I don't wanna know what they're doing." He threw up his hands and plopped himself down on the couch with a sigh. "Next thing you know, he's gonna move her in here and I gotta pretend to be all happy about it. As if I got no other fucking problems to deal with."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could help you somehow."

"Man, I just don't have the time for this kinda bullshit." He ran a hand over his face. "Colonel's been going on and on about damn publicity photos in uniform, that Christmas in Berlin picture he's already planning with Hal Wallis, trying to save what's left of my career-" His breath hitched for a moment in a humorless chuckle. "-Then I gotta worry about us getting kicked outta here-" He slaps the sofa at that. "And I somehow gotta serve my country at the same time."

She sat down next to him and exhaled heavily through her mouth. Again and again she was confronted with problems that seemed way too big for her. She could understand that he felt overwhelmed and alone. But she didn't have the slightest clue what to say to him to make him feel better. Maybe it was time to make peace with the fact that the best she could probably do was just listen to him and be there for him as best as she could.

"I'm here for you, anytime you wanna talk, I'm here to listen." She reassured him and placed a hand on his chest.

"I know honey. I appreciate it." He grabbed her calves and promptly placed her feet in his lap. "Damn, like little icicles." He let out a little laugh and started rubbing them absentmindedly.

She smiled at him and wiggled her toes. "Well, I was rushed out of bed as if the world was ending."

"Sweet Cherrypie, always makin' a big fuss outta nothing." He playfully pulled on her big toe and she had to resist the reflex to kick him.

"You're-" She huffed out a laugh but remained silent with a shake of her head. It was quiet for a while until she decided to open her mouth again, her face apologetic. "Sorry about your flashlight though."

"Honey, don't worry, already made up for it." He winked and ran his hand from her ankle up her leg. "It's nice just being here with you. I wish you could be here with me all the time."

"I know." She agreed.

"You should move here."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Think about it, I hate you being so far away from me."

"Frankfurt's only an hour away, E."

"Pretty much the other side of the damn planet, honey. You're not here when I need you."

"Elvis. You know I'd love to be with you. All the time. But it's not that easy."

"Of course it is."

"I got a job, my family. My life is... in Frankfurt right now. I can't even afford my own place on a secretary's salary. A learning secretary. And who says I could find a job here?"

"You'll work for my father. He'll take you under his wing, he needs a secretary. And you can move in here, live with us."

She blinked, not entirely sure how she felt about the idea of working for him.

"Elvis, I don't know-"

"You'll move in here. And then we can always be together." He repeated, reinforced his point as if that'll just change her mind. To her own confusion she actually found herself considering it. "It'll work out, honey, you'll see." Upon seeing her hesitation he comfortingly brushed over her hair. "I just want ya close to me. I wanna take care of ya."

Mary leaned into his touch and sighed, overwhelmed at his proposal. It was madness. And working for him might effect their relationship. The one they hadn't even officially defined yet. Her understanding was that they were still dating and now he wants her to move in. Under the premise of working for his father.

Now it was her turn to run a hand over her face - in confusion. She knew she wanted to say yes. At least that's what her heart wanted. It didn't take much to convince her to leave everything behind and stay with him. Still, she tried to be rational about it. "Elvis, I'm really not sure-"

He placed his finger against her lips and shook his head while shushing her. Her eyes drifted down towards his beautifully puckered lips. "Nah, stop it, baby. At least think about it. Don't say no right away, that ain't fair."

She opened her mouth only to close it again, not sure how to put her thoughts into words. It might mess up everything now if she asked questions, but she willed herself to go through with it. "What would this mean for us?"

He leaned in closer and she nearly had trouble holding eye contact with him. "What are you talking about, honey?"

Mary raised her eyebrows and gathered her courage before trying once again. "I mean for our relationship."

He smiled, albeit looking a bit bewildered. Either he really didn't understand or he just straight up refused to. "We'd be together way more often honey, don't know what you're getting at." He shrugged with a frown. As if she started talking Chinese all of the sudden.

Mary inclined her head. "It wouldn't be weird?" A pause. "We haven't been dating for too long." She added, her voice small, almost not wanting him to hear it.

He sat up straight, setting her feet onto the ground. "Honey, I just don't understand where this talk is coming from now."

She guiltily eyed his fingers, how he was fiddling with the ring on his pinky finger. He seemed tense and agitated, his posture reminding her of a soldier standing at attention. That's the last thing she wanted right now. In an attempt to appease him she carefully explained. "I'm only saying we should think and properly talk about it before rushing to a decision that we might regret."

Suddenly he shot up from the couch and turned away from her. So much for defusing the situation. "Damn, I can't talk to you right now. Not making any goddamn sense, woman! No one's making any goddamn sense."

Mary panicked at his sudden outburst, not wanting to upset him. "Elvis, I'm sorry-"

"Nuh-uh!" He pointed his finger at her and she froze. "Need to clear my damn head." He muttered and turned, making his way back upstairs.

She slowly got up as well, successfully blinking away the tears that were burning behind her eyelids. The silence as she followed him was nearly unbearable, but she didn't dare saying another word. As he opened the door to his room, she turned the opposite direction, towards her own room.

"Now where do you think you're going?"

Mary released the door handle as if she had burnt herself and faced him, feeling caught for whatever reason. She thought it was obvious that she wasn't gonna join him now. "Uh, I thought-"

He sighed. "Cherry, just come over here damnit."

"...Okay." She whispered, utterly perplexed and at a loss for words.

However, his behaviour made sense to her when she awkwardly laid down on her back, careful to keep a safe distance and he scooted closer to her - not so close as to fully press his body against hers, but so that he could rest his hand on her stomach. As much as he apparently didn't want to deal with the confusion and worry he felt, there was something else that he undeniably hated more. Being alone with those thoughts.

Mary spent the next morning like every morning; helping Mrs. Presley in the kitchen, who insisted on cooking and cleaning despite the hotel having staff for that. She was a tough one and Mary looked up to her, talking to Minnie Mae was a source of comfort to her, their talks often trivial and relaxed. Maybe that's what she liked most about their time spent together.

This morning however there was a certain edge, a tension in the air. At first she thought she imagined it, still a bit shaken by Elvis' and her last interaction. That was until she realised it was Christmas Eve and everyone was, indeed, rushing around and being busy preparing tonight's dinner party.

The presence of Red and Lamar didn't necessarily help the uneasiness she felt. Most of the time she tried to avoid them as best as she could, trying not to let on that the two men always kind of intimidated her and she'd just rather stay off their radar. They were currently lounging at the kitchen table, the topic of discussion was, unsurprisingly, Elvis, she didn't really hear them talk about anything else. She'd listen but hardly contribute. Right now they were wondering about his dismissive attitude during breakfast this morning.

Mary dried her hands on her apron and paused for a second. She didn't even hear Elvis getting up and leaving for the base that morning. He couldn't have gotten any sleep, after all it was nearly morning when they went back to bed. Why did she feel bad? He was the one that woke her at four in the morning, god knows if he's gotten any sleep before that.

Loud shrieking and laughter on the street outside suddenly caught her attention. Thankful for the distraction from her spiraling thoughts she turned her head towards the noise.

"He's back." Red announced without even looking up, pulling a thread from the tablecloth in front of him.

Indeed, he was. Outfitted in his full army uniform, Elvis got out of his white BMW and raised his hand to greet his devoted fans who were waiting - in the cold- in front of the hotel. Mary watched the scene, taking in the wonder and adoration on everyone's face as they gathered around him. The unbridled love they had for him and the enjoyment he got out of did warm her heart momentarily. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

He was like a magnet, putting everyone under a spell he didn't quite understand himself. It seemed like all the people in his life wanted him, claimed him for themselves. And she saw that he did his best to accommodate everyone, striving to fulfill everyone's needs without really considering his own. There were so many people expecting something from him, wanting something from him and she wasn't sure how he navigated all that pressure.

His outburst earlier made a lot more sense now that she saw him trying to please as many people as possible at the same time. He was taking his time, trying go give everyone his attention, shaking hands, giving hugs, signing whatever they asked him to.

When he linked arms with two pretty girls and walked them up to the front porch she told herself that she wouldn't let it bother her. He must doing something like this all the time. It was just part of who he was. She had to get used to it, whether she liked it or not.

"Oh he never takes the girls inside." Mrs. Presley exclaimed, putting down the silver spoon she was busy polishing.

"Must be feeling that Christmas spirit." Red offered.

"He's a giver ain't he." Lamar added, turning the page of his newspaper that he was pretending to read for nearly an hour now.

Mary felt her face grow hot and pursed her lips. He led the giggling girls inside, settling right in between them on the couch, where they'd sat last night. She refused to get upset about the fact that he hadn't even come over to greet her. He'd definitely seen her as he walked past her.

From the corner of her eye she saw him leaning towards the girl on his right, his fingers buried in her hair, playing with her fancy updo, while she was exitedly saying something to her friend in German.

Mary dried another plate and put it away before fully glancing at him. He shot her a pointed look before leaning in and kissing that brunette's cheek, who was now giggling uncontrollably.

She felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. And again, her thoughts went back to last night's argument. Or whatever it was. She herself wasn't a hundred percent sure what it was. All she knew now is that suddenly, in that very moment, she felt more far away from him than ever. Did he do that on purpose?

It felt similar to that day where her friend Helga showed her an article in the Bravo magazine about his supposed girlfriend, Anita Wood, he left behind in the States. Her initial reaction was shock before she told herself to get it together. He would've told her something like this, she was sure of it. She wouldn't put the tabloid's drama over his word. On the other hand he didn't tell her that Elisabeth was supposed to be at his 'Welcome back' party. But she was just a friend, right?

Again and again she was reminded that he could never truly only belong to her. He was a superstar after all. When she was alone with him she tended to forget that very important detail. She knew she had to be tolerant in that regard if she didn't want to lose him.

After a deep breath she turned back to Mrs. Presley, asking if she could help her with polishing the cutlery for tonight. It was hours later after the two girls left with signed photographs and him retreating back to his room without even looking her way that she couldn't take it anymore.

Making her way upstairs and knocking at his door strangely felt like admitting a mistake, but his silent treatment felt decidedly worse. "Elvis?"

He had changed into a white knitted cardigan and black dress pants and she stood up a bit straighter when he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking down on her with an unreadable expression on his face.

Mary eyed him carefully before clearing her throat putting on the most nonchalant tone. "How was your day?"

"Spent the day at the base decorating the company Christmas tree and singing Silent Night until eventually the last poor fella in that building got tired of it"

Apparently he had no interest discussing last night's incident, preferring to just act like it never happened.

For now she'd accept it. For now she'd come to the conclusion that she's overwhelmed him as much as he'd overwhelmed her. She figured giving it all some time would be the best course of action.

"I could never get tired of hearing you sing." She answered truthfully, looking at him through her lashes.

He gave her a quick once over before breaking into a smile. "Aw, little one, always knows what to say. Come here, missed you." He opened his arms, inviting her into his room. After giving her a quick peck on the lips he held her close to his chest.

Both relief and confusion flooded her at his unexpected response.

"You missed me?" She asked in a muffled voice, her face still buried in his sweater.

He hummed, the vibrations of his chest against her cheek. "Very much."

"You were in good company from what I saw." She stated, taking a step back.

He followed her and put his hands on her cheeks. "Aw, honey, those girls, they mean nothing. You're my bestest, favourite little girl, you know that."

Mary shrugged with a frown. "They're your fans, I guess I understand."

"You don't have to be jealous, Cherry."

"I know." She quickly answered, her tone firm.

He grinned. "The look on your sweet face says otherwise, you know that?"

"I'm not pulling a face!"

"You are! Right here-" He pecked her forehead. "And here!" Another peck to her lips.

"Okay, okay-" She chuckled, playfully pushing him away. "I got it! Jesus."

He cupped her chin, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. "Keep that happy face for tonight, wanna show you off."

"You do?"

"And I want you to look extra pretty tonight." For some reason his tone made the question feel like an assignment.

Mary blinked and looked at herself in the mirror before mindlessly playing with a few strands of hair, twisting it between her fingers before gathering it at the back of her head, feeling reminded of the times she had to present something at school with hardly anything prepared. "Oh, you know, I thought I could try this updo-"

He pressed a quick kiss to her exposed neck, making her giggle. "Honey, I'm sure you got that all figured out. What are you gonna do with your face?" His fingers softly grazed over her cheekbone.

She blinked at his statement before frowning the slightest bit and dropping her hair back down. "What's wrong with my face?"

"Aw, absolutely nothing, honey, it's perfect. My little baby's pretty as a picture, yes she is." He assured her while squeezing her cheeks and making kissing sounds as his face inched closer to hers.

"Silly." She giggled before quickly glancing back at the mirror, a questioning look on her face.

"No need to pout, Cherry. We left that behind us, remember? It's just, uh, your eyes are so expressive, I just want everyone to notice them. And I happen to know how to make em' look real good." He explained with a shrug.

Mary pondered his words for a second, still feeling a bit uneasy from his sudden mood shift.

"Come on, let me do this. Gonna look so pretty."

Upon seeing his pleading face she broke into a small smile and with a nod she leaned in to plant a quick kiss on his full lips. "Alright... but please don't make me look like a clown, okay?" She joked.

He pretended to consider it for a moment, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, before breaking into a grin. "Tempting, gotta admit that, Cherry."

As he gathered all the supplies from a small leather bag he'd retrieved from his drawer, Mary sat down on the chair, fiddling with her hands in her lap.

"Okay just look ahead baby, look at me." He instructed. Before he started he lowered his head and gave her a stern look, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, hold still now, would ya?"

Mary shakily exhaled, feeling nervous all of the sudden and nodded when he cupped her chin, his thumb softly caressing her skin. He leaned in closer, his scent completely surrounding her, making her heartbeat picked up in a second. She had to look down, feeling bashful under his intense gaze.

"Eyes on me, honey, look at me."

"Sorry." She quickly cleared her throat before focusing back on his eyes. However it didn't take very long until her gaze drifted to his full lips and she was utterly cativated by the way they hung open the slightest bit in concentration. It didn't take long for him to let out an impatient sigh. He lowered the brush and tapped her nose to get her attention. "Cherry, I need ya to look ahead for this to work."

"Okay, okay, alright, I'll do my best now." She mumbled, failing miserably at sounding determined. The fact that her face felt like it was on fire didn't really help. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the snow covered park across the hotel, yet she was convinced there were beads of sweat running down her back.

He cooed and lowered the brush. "Aw, I love it when you're all shy like this, honey. But ya got no reason to. It's just me, you know that."

"I know." Just you. Just Elvis Presley, she thought.

"Now close your eyes." He whispered softly.

Her eyes fluttered shut at his words and she nearly jumped when he carefully started applying the eyeliner on her upper lid.

"Cherryyyy, stop moving around." He gently chided her.

"I'm trying." She answered, suppressing a laugh. "It tickles."

Even though she couldn't see it, she could almost feel him smirking at her statement. Those were the same words she'd uttered the night before in a very different context, a shaking mess under his touch.

"You want me to help you keep still again?" He put a hand on her thigh and gave her a squeeze, making her gasp.

"I think I'll manage." She nearly squeaked in response.

After a few minutes that felt like hours he leaned back, finally finished, his eyes roaming over her face. "Oh, look at you, looking all pretty." He cooed and brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen over her eyes.

Mary blushed and inspected herself in the mirror, touching her face and blinking a few times. She raised her eyebrows and saw the finely drawn black wing. Her eyelashes fluttered, the mascara making them look impossibly long. "You're really good at this."

"Lips, honey."

She laughed when he retrieved a red lipstick from the bag. "I understand the mascara and eyeshadow but why on earth do you have this lipstick?"

"Might have sent Lamar to get it, should've seen his face."

"Oh god."

He cupped her chin again, his eyes narrowed, assessing his own work before moving closer again, making his chair creak slightly. She blushed as he reached out to apply the lipstick and had to fight yet another smile.

"Don't ya move now. I mean it, Cherry." He warned as he noticed the corners of her mouth twitching. A muffled sound escaped the back of her throat in a weak attempt to defend herself, but he quickly shushed her. "No talking either, I know that's hard for you, but I'm not done here."

Mary narrowed her eyes at his comment, but took a deep steadying breath, willing herself to do as he said while fighting a grin. It never ceased to amaze her how he could say something like this, yet remain utterly charming. It was almost scary how much he'd wrapped her around his finger.

Her expression became blank however as he actually started working on her bottom lip. It suddenly hit her how intimate the whole situation was and the tension was nearly too much for her to handle.

Mary's sudden compliance pleased him, she could tell by the way his gaze suddenly drifted from her lips towards her eyes with an almost unnoticeable quirk of his brow.

"There, cherry red lips for my sweet Cherrypie." He gently patted her cheek as he finished.

She let out a deep sigh of relief at finally being able to relax her face and breathe normally again and leaned closer to the mirror. With a tilt of her head from one side to the other she examined his work, still in disbelief that the woman in the mirror was actually her. A small smile spread across her face. "Oh wow"

He looked down at her with a satisfied smirk and promptly licked his lips when their eyes met. "Quit looking at me like that honey, or I'll make a mess of your lipstick."

With a blush she looked back at her reflection once again, appreciating how her blue eyes did look more expressive and how the bold red colour on her lips made her feel like a famous singer or actress. Someone with confidence.

"Aw, you look so beautiful. I could just eat you up." Elvis leaned in to playfully nibble at her neck.

"Thank you." She breathed, feeling her cheeks and neck get hot, as she squeezed his arm that was sprawled over her chest. They looked nice together, she thought, before he carefully tapped against her hips, urging her to get up.

"Now, baby, get changed, yeah? Put on your prettiest little dress, okay?"

When she returned to his room, still grateful that she had shamelessly over-packed her suitcase, she saw him sitting in front of the mirror, busy fixing his own hair.

Mary stepped closer and sat down on the edge of the bed, right behind him. For a while she just looked at him, admiring the way his nimble fingers gently held onto the comb in a practised grip. The way he just ran it through his shorter-than-usual hair with ease looked almost graceful and Mary couldn't resist scooting a bit closer to him until she could wrap her arms around his middle. She hoped she didn't bother him too much when she laid her chin on his shoulder. It seemed like their argument never happened.

"Anything you want, honey?" He asked eventually, a small gleam in his eyes.

"Why are your eyelashes longer than mine? It's not fair." She sighed, her fingers lightly dancing over his arms.

"They come in real handy, I'll tell ya. Making aaaall the pretty girls swoon." He drawled before reaching behind to lightly pinch her waist with a wink.

Mary giggled and leaned forward to press her her burning cheek against his cooler one. "They are swoonworthy." She agreed and continued studying his face in silent awe, once again marvelling at how utterly perfect he was. It was infuriating.

He smirked at her through the mirror when he felt her breasts pressing into his back. She felt him shift slightly. "Trying to start something, little one?"

His sultry voice sent delicious tingles through her entire body and she smiled briefly before shaking her head. "I love you." Her tone was gentle as she rubbed her hands over his dress shirt, slowly caressing his belly.

Her whisper made him coo and he slightly turned his body to face her. "I love you too, sweetheart. So much. See? We're made for each other, Cherry." He softly nuzzled her nose with his. "That's why ya should stay here. With me. It's easy like that."

Her mind involuntarily drifted to Elisabeth. And Anita. "It's not as easy as that." She answered, withdrawing just the tiniest bit, trying not to look remorseful.

He quickly shook his head. "No, no, no, just a second ago ya were being so sweet and now this again. Don't ruin it now."

"I'm just being honest." She shrugged.

"Me too." He insisted, pulling her close to him again.

A mean 'Are you?' nearly escaped her but she quickly swallowed before actually saying it out loud.

"I love you. That ain't enough for you?" He asked and furrowed his brows, his hand softly caressing her.

Mary bit her lip and lowered her head. After clearing her throat she looked up into his eyes again. "Of course... And it means so much to me that you want me here with you. Believe me, there’s nothing I’d rather do than just move here and spend every minute with you.” She smiled carefully and leaned in to hug him tightly. “You just surprised me, and leaving my family is a big deal. I’m sorry.” She mumbled into his shoulder.

“Aw, Cherry, it’s alright, don’t worry.” He held her close to him, gently rocking her back and forth with him. “And I-I know it’s a lot. Just want the best for you, gotta get that in your stubborn little head.”

She opened her mouth but he shushed her. “Just trust me on this. Let’s not talk about now, though, Cherrypie. It’s Christmas Eve.”

Mary nodded in agreement, but she knew they’d have to come to a decision soon. After all, as much as it felt like one; it wasn’t just a dream.

.................................................................................

Taglist: @karel-in-wonderland @kingdomforapony @richardslady121 @18lkpeters @godlypresley @everythingelvispresley

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my love, take care of yourself

welcome to my garden! i'm niko/bee (22). owner of goose coven. lover of cats. aroace, lesbian, autistic, jewish and brazilian.

main interests: sabrina carpenter, maisie peters, conan gray, spiderverse, taylor swift, reneé rapp and fletcher.

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byf: i rarely ever tag things, so be careful with triggering content and spoilers of any kind.

dnf: 15 years old or younger. h*rry p*tter fans. gaylors.

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the absolute love of my life: @katesprydes

my beloved wives: @katesprydes @its-tortle @arobarbie @faintedlcve @imperpetuallylost @loserdiaz @whatacharmingsaturday

my favorite sewer rats: @theladyinwhite13 @alltheliars @octoberconstellation @loveyouanyway

my lovely mutuals: @weeping-in-the-willows @florencewellch @all-l-wanna-do @dearreader @eyesopentv @melodramuh @waolom @allamericansbitch @queerbuckleys @fresasconsal

some of my tags:

my greatest hits: bee dot txt

moodboards n artsy stuff: *mine

eras tour weekend tag: bee goes to eras!

[vega1001]

thoughts on coach ukai (jr) and nekomata and ukai (sr)

Jr ukai is honestly the greatest coach karasuno asked for. I would even go so far as to say that he's better than og ukai for that karasuno. They were still budding chicklings. Ukai's advice was so golden. It teared me up when he records all of their best moments and compiles it with banging music before the 'shit'orizawa match. His advice to kageyama when they fine tune their quick. And there are many moments. Oh and Ooooh. The hinata moment. When the coach tells him so subtly about how he could take care of his body during the painful camp. So beautiful. Haikyuu and it's characters. Love you Ukai Sensei. Arigato ✨

Nekomata sensei. God. The Senior Cat. The Goose of Nekoma. ( @blues-hair-clips hello hehe). Coach of the Best Defensive Team in the prefecture. There's this moment that I faintly remember. Not in detail but you can correct me please. But when kuro and kenma are babiiees, they go to a volleyball court. And nekomata is present here. He says something along the lines of Experience the joy of hitting the spike or something and then chase after that feeling. Maybe the second half of the sentence was not there but nekomata being nekomata quietly said that in his head. Love you Nekomata Sensei. Arigato ✨

(hehe young nekomata and ukai senseisss. Why are they so coool !!!!!!!!)

And Finally. Ukai Sensei. I wish I was one of his grandkids. So I can keep going on and on about how cool my granddad is. I love the rivalry between him and nekomata. I love it when words come out of his mouth and you're just like yachi. You sit up straight and listen lol. The wise crow who stayed until the time when Karasuno were called the flightless crows. I love that he got to experience the peak of Karasuno twice. The later being his blood. Coach Ukai. I'd love to be coached by you. Honestly it'd take a lot of discipline and hard work. But yes. I'd be a damn crow any day. Love you Ukai Sensei. Arigato ✨

(atleast this made it to the movie 😭. They robbed us but thank you haikyu ily )

[justforbooks]

Haruki Murakami

The acclaimed Japanese author’s deceptively simple writing combines fantasy and reality in stories of everything from missing cats to dystopian histories via fantasy thrillers and meditations on love.

Japan’s bestselling living novelist Haruki Murakami started writing aged 30 and became a literary sensation in 1987 when his fifth novel Norwegian Wood was published. His mixture of realistic and dreamlike narratives has earned him a dedicated fanbase, and his name is often floated as a contender for the Nobel prize in literature. If you’re new to him, or want to re-read his greatest hits, here are some places to start.

The entry point

Murakami’s novels can be crudely separated into two categories: the fantastic and the realist – although many fall somewhere in between. Published in 1987, Norwegian Wood lacks the otherworldly strangeness that has come to characterise much of Murakami’s most popular work. Instead the novel is a deceptively simple reminiscence of young love. Landing on a German runway, narrator Toru Watanabe hears the titular Beatles song and is transported back to his college days and turbulent love affairs with two different women. Nostalgic and sweet, Norwegian Wood is Murakami’s most accessible novel, and the book that transformed the author into a literary superstar in Japan.

If you only read one

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is peak Murakami, and features many of the things the author is known for (Mysterious women! Vanished cats! Phone sex! Spaghetti!). Unemployed thirtysomething Toru Okada is looking for his missing cat and missing wife when he sleepwalks into a wild goose-chase of increasingly bizarre events. “The best way to think about reality,” he declares, is “to get as far away from it as possible.” Part detective story, part nightmarish Alice in Wonderland, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle becomes a story about Japanese history, bizarre mysteries and red herrings. Abstract, infuriating and very funny, it is Murakami at his most beguiling.

If you’re in a rush

If you want to make a critically acclaimed film, adapt a Murakami short story. The South Korean thriller Burning took Murakami’s story Barn Burning as its foundations, while, more recently, Ryūsuke Hamaguchi won an Academy Award for his adaptation of Drive My Car. Some of Murakami’s finest storytelling can be found in his microcosmic worlds. Sleep, published in the New Yorker in 1992 and included in the short story collection The Elephant Vanishes, was the first time Murakami wrote from the perspective of a woman and the result is stunning. The story offers a character study of a devoted wife who is suffering from a sleeplessness that is not quite insomnia. Murakami frequently – and justifiably – receives criticism for how he writes female characters, but Sleep is a brilliant story that uses the liminality of the night to evoke the unease of being a woman in a patriarchal society.

The memoir

Murakami’s biography could be the backstory for one of his protagonists. The author was running a jazz club, turned 30, and quit to become a novelist. The rest is bestseller history. Murakami’s slim memoir, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, offers an insight into his diligent creative practice. “Most of what I know about writing I’ve learned through running every day,” he explains. Only seriously taking to running in his 30s, Murakami reflects on the comparisons between marathon-running and writing , and demystifies the author’s practice as regimented routine, endurance training and occasionally injury inducing.

It’s worth persevering with

Across three volumes and over a thousand pages, 1Q84 is Murakami’s most ambitious novel to date, encompassing cults, assassins, parallel realities, two moons and creatures that emerge from the mouth of a dead goat. Following twin story threads of fated lovers, Murakami’s epic is set in a version of 1984 that slips between the familiar and unfamiliar. While 1Q84 is certainly sprawling, it’s structured like a maze with the occasional trick mirror and trap door. It was bemoaned by some critics as a disappointment when first published in 2011 and its length may be intimidating to the casual Murakami reader, but descend into 1Q84’s world and you’ll be treated to a page-turning thriller, a tender love story, a pulpy mystery and a meditation on the metaphysical mysteries of a world not dissimilar to our own.

The one that deserves more attention

After its publication in English in 2001, Sputnik Sweetheart left the orbit of Murakami’s more popular works. It’s a shame because the novel offers a refreshing variation of the author’s most predictable trope: women vanishing. Narrated through the eyes of a typical Murakami narrator (male, pining, passive), at the heart of Sputnik Sweetheart is a lesbian romance between Sumire, a wannabe Jack Kerouac, and Miu, an older, refined wine importer. Lusting after Miu, Sumire begins to shed her bohemian exterior, transforming herself to become Miu’s chic personal assistant. The unequal romance soon develops into self-obliteration as Sumire seems fated to be forever Miu’s sputnik – orbiting her from the isolation of space – before she disappears. Sputnik Sweetheart’s yearning romanticism is as tender as it is uncomfortable.

The masterpiece

Departing from his typical thirtysomething, whisky-drinking, jazz-listening protagonists, Kafka on the Shore is narrated by 15-year-old runaway Kafka Tamura. Fleeing his violent, dead father after receiving an Oedipal prophecy, Kafka finds refuge working in a small coastal town’s library. Alternating with Kafka’s tale is Satoru Nakata’s, an older man who lost his childhood memories at the end of the second world war, but instead gained the ability to converse with cats. Nakata is forced on the run after he crosses paths with a sinister cat-catcher who goes by the name Johnnie Walker. Both characters embark on vision quests, with one foot in everyday Japan and the other in a magical undercurrent that delivers the characters to each other. Murakami has said that the urgency behind his stories is “missing and searching and finding”. Kafka on the Shore eludes genre pigeonholing, and instead exemplifies its author’s ability to map a dreamscape labyrinth, one with its own strange poetic justice.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[myovergrowngarden]

Chickens (a prose poem by Stephanie Rose Hold, first published in Beyond Words Literary Magazine's "My Greatest Fear" Anthology)

I am embarrassed to admit that a part of me is afraid of chickens. I’m afraid of plenty of other things, but chickens are without a doubt one of the strangest things I find myself petrified by. Spiders, rats, bats, and snakes are at least common fears, even if they aren’t all equally rational. These creatures can carry disease or deadly venom. Most people wouldn’t question my fear of them, even those who keep them as pets. I have met people who have nearly been killed by snakes or been bitten by spiders and feared for their lives. None of these things can be said of chickens. To some they’re pets, to others they’re food, and to those who have never seen one in person they’re funny little creatures from cartoons. They are some of the smallest and weakest of the birds who can’t really fly. They don’t hold the might of the emu, who defeated Australia in war. Nor do they hold the aggressive reputation of the goose. 

When I think of the goose, I start to understand why chickens scare me. Geese are reviled as villainous beasts. Creatures of pure malice with the power to back it up. There are video games and comics written on the subject of their wrath. I've heard more jokes about evil geese than I have about chickens crossing the road. Despite all of this bravado offered to the goose, I know exactly how I would defend myself from one. I’ve done enough research to recite it by memory. If they begin to charge you, you’re supposed to keep calm as you move out of its range. If it flies at you, you’re simply supposed to duck or evade without breaking eye contact. One should not break eye contact with a goose, or let it believe that you’re afraid of it, otherwise its attack will have validity and it will not back down. The main reason you shouldn’t hit a goose if it attacks you is that it will inspire other birds to join the goose in its assault. It’s not because the goose is an almighty god that cannot be stuck down, but instead because it would force you to answer the question of exactly how many birds you can fight at once. 

The best defense is a cool head, and a slow retreat. Humans are naturally superior to geese in physicality, intimidation is their only meaningful weapon. I don’t really fear geese because there are so many clean and easy ways to keep them away from me. I cannot say the same for the chicken. The best advice I’ve gotten to deal with a chicken attack is to wear sturdy shoes and thick pants so that their attacks won’t be effective. I find it deeply troubling that the only way to deal with a hypothetical chicken encounter is to hope that your leg coverings will endure until it grows tired of violence. It doesn’t have the same social rituals as a goose, nor the elongated neck that makes for a weak point in the worst case scenario, you simply have to wait it out and pray that the clucking horror takes mercy on your poor limbs. 

Unsatisfied, I did some research on the subject, but what I discovered was far more upsetting. The number one tip for dealing with a chicken is to “cuddle” it into submission. One is supposed to hold the chicken gently, but firmly, until it is no longer consumed by wrath. I found this to be a truly horrifying notion. Everyone else is so unafraid of chickens, and sees them as such a minimal threat, that the solution to an attack is a comforting embrace? If I’m afraid of something I’m not going to hug it, especially if it’s attacking me. Even if I did, it would be a weak hug, and that would ultimately cause me more suffering than simply letting it attack. 

This is why the chicken, the most covertly monstrous of all creatures, lingers so heavily in my mind. I may fear nearly everything nature has to offer, but the chicken is a problem with no rational solution, with no means to reasonably defeat it. This terror has no origin. If there was a childhood experience with a vicious fowl it didn’t linger in my memory. It isn’t one particular trait they hold that other birds don’t, it’s the lack of a clear answer to the question of how to evade the monsters. The grand majority of people would see it as a silly question: chickens are friendly, they aren’t quick to anger, every chicken I’ll see in my lifetime is domesticated. But this round, soft, backyard bird is a thing of nightmares to me because I have no way to fight it. I simply have to hope that my fear is as irrational as everyone says it is, and that I can keep a wide berth of chickens for as long as I live.

[jessybarnes]

Shake My Nerves, Rattle My Brain

Chapter Three: Below The Hard Deck

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Chapter Characters: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Ron "Slider" Kerner, Dick "Jester" Hetherly, Rick "Hollywood" Neven, Henry "Wolfman" Ruth, Mike "Viper" Metcalf 

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI

Tags: Angst, explicit language, sexual tension, pining, suggestive sexual thoughts, military talk, and I think that's it. 

Word Count: 1,5k

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

Title Card: Yours Truly

Maverick makes it just in time to begin his preflight checklist with Goose, who keeps questioning him about Iceman despite trying to focus. 

"I told you, Nick. Nothing happened. He's just trying to intimidate me, probably because he feels threatened, and I honestly don't care that much." 

Way to lie through your fucking teeth, Mav.

He busies himself with switching on the ground power, external air, and O2 switches, and even though he can't see his RIO, he knows he's giving him a 'this conversation isn't over' look. 

Whatever. At least he has time to think of a more convincing lie because there's no way in hell he's telling anyone about his feelings for Tom. Not even Goose because he knows as soon as he does there's only a matter of time before he tells his wife and then it'll spread around Miramar faster than he can hit Mach-2. He loves them, but honestly, they're not the greatest at keeping secrets. 

Once they're in the air he feels a weight being lifted off his chest. This is where he feels most at home and what better way to prove himself than to be the first one to get a missile lock on Jester? Maybe he'd get lucky and be the only one. 

"I got him! I got him! He's on our tail, coming hard!" 

Goose swivels his head left and right to try and gauge Jester's position and Maverick feels himself finally able to focus. He clears his mind of everything else and increases his speed, banking hard right. 

He sets his eyes on the mountain range ahead of him and begins to foil a plan.

"All right, talk to me, Goose." 

"He's still back there! He's closing in on us. He's closing fast!" 

Maverick turns the nose of his plane towards the rock face. He feels the adrenaline course through him as he anticipates the upcoming tone from his instructor's craft. 

"C'mon Jester. Let's see if I can give you a run for your money here." 

He lowers his altitude slightly and Goose's eyes widen as he points to a nearby peak. 

"Watch the mountains!" 

Maverick regains the height he previously had and veers left. 

"I still got him. He's still back there. C'mon, Mav. Do some of that pilot shit!" 

"Yeah, I got him." 

As soon as those words leave his mouth he hears the telltale sound of the target lock beeping in his comms. 

"Goose, I've had about enough of this shit. I'm gonna hit the brakes and he'll fly right by."

Maverick activates the air break while simultaneously pulling back on the stick hard enough to pull the nose of his plane nearly vertical. Once he's above Jester he disengages the brakes and steadies his F-14 so it's positioned directly behind his instructor. 

"Let's see what you've got now, Jester!"

Almost immediately, Jester begins a steady climb to try and use the sun as a shield, but Maverick anticipates this. It's what he would have done after all. 

"He's going vertical, so am I." 

"We're going ballistic, Mav. Go get him!"

Jester banks hard left and decreases his altitude and Maverick's hot on his tail. There's no way he's losing this opportunity while he has it in his sights. 

"He's going for the hard deck," Goose states. "Let's get down there first and nail him, Mav."

"No way, Jester. You're mine."

Maverick tilts his plane in a nose dive, chasing his instructor with laser focus. He flicks on his target lock and moves it until he hears the solid beep he's been waiting for since he took off. 

"I got you now. Whoo! Jester's dead!" 

Mav takes his time reorganizing his locker because Ice's is directly behind his and under no circumstances is he going to get caught staring at him whenever he comes in. There's too many witnesses, not to mention he's barely able to control himself as it is. 

Goose is still celebrating their win, bragging about it to the others as they dry off from their showers. 

"Yee-haw! Jester's dead!"

Wolfman shakes Goose's hand and lays back on the bench, "You won?! That's bullshit." 

"Didn't everybody?" Goose retorts.

"Hell no, man. We got our butts kicked!" 

Slider rounds the corner with Ice stating that they also managed to get a missile lock on Jester and it makes Maverick roll his eyes. Of course, they did. 

Someone mentions he and Goose's victory again, probably Hollywood, but Mav has his back turned to them so he can't be one hundred percent sure. 

"That's not what I heard," Ice mocks. And Pete feels his skin tingle. Tom better fucking watch it. He's on edge as it is, and he doesn't need Lieutenant Pretty Boy's smart mouth to make it worse. 

God, his fucking mouth… 

Jesus Christ calm down Maverick.

"No. No. Below the hard deck doesn't count," Slider reiterates the rule they were given and even though he's absolutely correct, Mav decides he'd rather be stubborn. 

"Hard deck, my ass. We nailed that son of a bitch." 

Ice pops a piece of gum in his mouth and laughs, "You guys really are cowboys." 

Okay, now he's had it.

"What's your problem, Kazansky?" 

Tom slams his locker and whips around to face him, stepping closer until they're toe to toe.

"You're everyone's problem. That's because every time you go up in the air you're unsafe. I don't like you because you're dangerous." 

Maverick's heart sinks to his stomach. Ice doesn't like him? Honestly, he shouldn't care. He doesn't want to, but the thought of being on the receiving end of his disapproval doesn't sit well with him. 

His sadness and self-doubt are replaced with anger almost instantaneously as he gets in Tom's face. To hell with all of his internal warning signals telling him that they still have an audience. 

"That's right, Ice…man," he snarls. And against his better judgment, he allows his fingertips to touch the leather fabric of the patch with his name sewn in it. 

Maverick's so close to his face that he can smell the mix of shower gel, and mint and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his knees wobble. 

He's aware that he still hasn't finished his sentence, and that the number of eyes on him isn't going to decrease any time soon. But, of course, he can't resist the opportunity to touch him again, so he grabs his arms briefly for good measure. 

"I am dangerous." 

Iceman leans even closer, a primal look of dominance in his eyes as he gnashes his teeth together violently.

Mav feels his cock twitch at the thought of his skin being littered with marks from that mouth. 

Listen, at this point, he's a fucking goner. 

"Maverick!" Jester's voice makes him jump as he snaps his head to where his instructor is standing. 

"You and Goose get your butts out of that flight gear and up to Viper's office now!" 

Pete sighs as he scratches at a stain on his flight suit. He can't make sense of the way Tom acted earlier and it's wearing him out. He's always been a no-bullshit kind of guy. The kind that does what he wants, lives in the moment and doesn't let anyone get under his skin. Except, that's exactly what's happening here. 

In one moment, Ice is being an annoying asshole, and in the next, it's like he's into him. Almost like he feels the same way Mav does, only he's a bit more reserved about it. 

His door opens suddenly and Nick peeks around the corner, "You still awake?" 

"Yeah. What's up?" 

He takes a seat in the chair across from him and crosses his arms

"Listen, can we talk? I know you told me to drop it, but I'm worried about you. You're not acting like yourself and you're being more reckless than usual. I mean, that flyby you did on the tower earlier? We coulda been kicked out, Mav… just… just tell me what's going on."

Maverick scoffs, "Reckless? That was not reckless, Nick. I've done some sketchy shit in my life, but that? That was nothing."

Goose is patient with him. He knows his best friend struggles with his past and he can only hope that he opens up to him sooner or later. 

"Look, Mav…I'm not here to criticize you. I call it like I see it, and what I'm seeing is a Maverick I don't recognize. If there's something going on you know I'm always here if you feel like talking." 

He stands and pats him on the shoulder, "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" 

Maverick can feel the lump in his throat get bigger and he squeezes his eyes shut. No. He won't allow himself to cry over this, over something so stupid. He's Pete Mitchell for God's sake The one percent of the one percent. A fucking Naval fighter pilot. 

The door to his room clicks shut and he leans back into the cushions. Whatever this is, whatever is going on between him and Ice is only holding him back. He's going to finish what he came here to do. No distractions, no more wasting time. He's going to win that plaque. 

After all, there are no points for second place.

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Hello it is currently five in the morning and I am a wild goose. I have finished chapters 2 and 3 of ring the bells and oh boy was it a lot to unpack. I absolutely love where the story is going and how the reader interacts with the people of the town. One of the most heartwarming moments is when Y/N goes into detail about their adoptive shark uncles. That hits home for me because I have a little makeshift family outside of my household, you know friends and all.

Second, now I just adore Eclipse, Sun, and Moon! But boy does Eclipse need to be humbled a bit and I think a little life changing moment will teach him how be more grateful for y/N ;). Sun continues to be the greatest support and chef one could ask for and I love when he compliments the reader. Moon is just as lovely and calming as ever, I adore the fact that you made him a kind of dream/grave watcher.

AWWWWW THANK YOUUU!!!! I am so happy you love all of these little details, it really brings a smile to my face and joy in my heart!!!! I am currently on a trip to the sea side and your kind words really make the travel brighter!!!

[dumbbitchawards]

I have never met a single cishet who knows the term lipstick lesbian. Dr House do you mind answering a few questions

[msclaritea]

"Biopics of massively famous musicians are rarely very good, often because they stumble at the question of whom exactly they’re being made for. Are you making a movie for the already initiated die-hard fans yearning to see the life and times of their hero reflected back at them in exacting detail? Or is your movie a welcome mat for novices, a breezy jukebox of greatest hits aimed at cultivating new generations of fans, goosing streaming tallies and catalog sales in the process? Most musician biopics never manage to resolve this tension, in part because they’re usually also serving a third master, namely the musician’s estate, which tends to hold its own, very specific ideas about on-screen depiction.

Bob Marley: One Love, the new movie about the late reggae superstar that’s produced by Marley’s widow, Rita, along with some of his children, is a biopic that does seem to know whom it’s for, which isn’t a point in its favor. The film is directed by Reinaldo Marcus Green (King Richard) and stars Kingsley Ben-Adir as Marley, who does his best with the role despite not really looking or sounding much like the real Marley. (Within the past four years Ben-Adir has played Malcolm X, Barack Obama, and Bob Marley, quite the triptych of historical figures.) Lashana Lynch plays Rita and steals the film in every scene she’s in, even if the movie’s script fails to elevate her character past the archetypical suffering-yet-supportive wife of a genius.

Rather than taking a cradle-to-grave approach to Marley’s life, One Love instead focuses on a single period of Marley’s career, his self-imposed exile to England in the aftermath of the 1976 attempt on his life at his home in Kingston, during which time he recorded Exodus, the 1977 LP that marked his full breakthrough into global superstardom. The film opens with the assassination attempt, after which we’re quickly whisked to London, where the film depicts Marley writing most of Exodus’ songs in a cloying series of “eureka!” moments that tend to populate movies of this kind. Snippets of Marley’s classic “Redemption Song” surface as a recurring musical motif in the film, and in one of the last scenes, we see Marley performing the song for his awestruck family in a sappy flourish that’s also anachronistic. (By most accounts, Marley didn’t write “Redemption Song” until 1979.) Periodically we’re treated to a series of flashbacks of the singer’s earlier life, a clichéd device that this movie could have used more of: Brief forays into Marley’s conversion to Rastafarianism are surprisingly well done, and a scene of a teenage Marley and the Wailing Wailers performing “Simmer Down” at Coxsone Dodd’s Studio One is the best moment in the film.

One Love is an inspirational tale about a Great Man who used music to unite the world, one that reduces one of the most consequential and complicated artists of the 20th century to a walking fount of genial aphorisms, the guy who suggested we all get together and feel all right. As such, the film indulges a decadeslong public appetite for a particular imagining of Marley that his estate now seems depressingly eager to feed. It’s been 42 years since Marley died of a rare form of melanoma at age 36, and I’m not sure there’s a musician who’s more literally iconic: Go to any commercial district in any part of the world and within minutes you’ll find an opportunity to buy something bearing Marley’s likeness. In the United States, Marley has been a staple of dorm-room walls for generations: The casual and underinformed co-optation of Marley by American bro culture has even inspired a recurring meme in which Marley’s name is erroneously affixed to an image of Jimi Hendrix.

To a certain brand of musical cynic, Marley has become the embodiment of a musician whom people own posters and T-shirts of but don’t actually listen to, which isn’t totally fair to most of the owners of those posters and T-shirts. Some of Marley’s music is still enormously popular: His 1984 greatest hits compilation Legend is currently enjoying its 820th week on the Billboard 200, a position it will likely maintain for the foreseeable future given One Love’s early, strikingly robust box-office projections. The only album that’s spent longer on the chart is Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon.

But in the pop-cultural imagination, Legend has completely eclipsed everything else Marley ever released. The album has sold more than 15 million copies in the United States alone, while no other Marley LP has sold even 1 million stateside. From a purely mathematical standpoint, this would indicate that for many fans, Legend is the first and only Marley album they’ll ever listen to. I’m not sure there’s another greatest hits compilation that has played such an outsize role in the public definition of an artist.

Legend is a fine little collection, but the idea that it’s some sort of one-stop synopsis of Marley’s career is absurd. For starters, 10 of its 14 tracks date from the period of 1977–80, a four-year time frame that represents the height of Marley’s global popularity but is a relatively minuscule cross section of a staggeringly prolific, nearly two-decade-long recording career. (Five of Exodus’ 10 tracks are included on Legend, which I suspect is one reason that One Love is so invested in the album’s significance.)

This period also coincides with a time when Marley’s music seemed to take a step back from revolutionary politics, a tack that may have been driven at least in part by the aforementioned assassination attempt. The Marley canonized on Legend is not the Marley who sang “I feel like bombin’ a church/ Now that you know that the preacher is lyin’ ” or who called for “burnin’ and a-lootin’ tonight … burnin’ all illusion tonight” or declared that “Rasta don’t work for no CIA.” The dominance of Legend in the U.S. is particularly striking when one considers that Marley’s highest-selling album in this country during his lifetime was 1976’s Rastaman Vibration, which peaked at No. 8 on the Billboard 200 and includes such overtly political tracks as “Crazy Baldhead,” “Rat Race,” and “War.” Legend doesn’t include a single track from Rastaman Vibration, instead opting for romantic fare like “Is This Love” and “Waiting in Vain” and feel-good anthems like “One Love/People Get Ready” and “Jamming.” (For an excellent deep dive into the history and legacy of Legend, I recommend this article from the Ringer earlier this week.)

One Day’s Director Has No Regrets About the Movie’s Controversial Ending

Legend’s preeminence has helped turn Marley into the musical equivalent of a tourist destination, at which One Love is just one more cozy attraction. This is worse than a shame, because the real Bob Marley was one of the most remarkable musical talents of the 20th century. As a songwriter, he was so prolific that music seemed to pour out of him, a quality that has sometimes led to a naturalization of his gifts that veers into exoticizing primitivism. (One Love certainly partakes in this.) But rather than being some carefree savant, Marley was a fiercely disciplined and ambitious artist from the very beginning. He wrote and recorded his first single, “Judge Not,” in 1962 at the age of 16, and it remains an astonishing debut, an effortlessly catchy melody sung by a voice that sounds both nervous and supremely confident in a way that only a teenager can manage.

By the time he signed to Island Records in 1972 and began his ascent to international superstardom, Marley had already written a lifetime’s worth of great songs. He had a preternatural ear for hooks and crafted songs that were ready-made hit records, three-minute gems of perfectly crystalized musical ideas. As a singer, his indelible tenor rasp and thrillingly improvisational style were the byproducts of an extraordinarily well-honed sense of intonation and time. And during the 1970s, he fronted what might have been the best band on the face of the earth, grounded in the peerless rhythm section of drummer Carlton Barrett and bassist Aston “Family Man” Barrett, the latter of whom died earlier this month at age 77. (Aston’s son and namesake, an accomplished musician in his own right, plays his father in the film.)

One Love doesn’t know how to begin exploring this artist and his art in any way that even begins to be interesting. Instead it just feeds back the same sanitized and saccharine idea of Bob Marley to the same audience who has been eating that up for generations. It’s a movie about a poster. Over the end credits of One Love, archival performance clips of Marley flash onto the screen, and for a few moments we’re treated to sounds and images that are infinitely more magnetic and thrillingly alive than anything we’ve seen over the preceding 100-ish minutes. That Bob Marley, and the extraordinary body of music he left behind, is still out there for those who go listening for it, but this movie isn’t where you’ll find him."

[mx-mongoose]

Goose. For the kiss thing. Glados. And Chell. Any prompt. Let Chell smooch that robot

I don't really know what prompt this is supposed to be T-T I guess this would be goodbye or because time ran out. But here it is!

Chell blinked open her eyes slowly as her vision started to piece together. She awoke on a circle-shaped elevated platform with handrails surrounding her from all sides. The sight she was greeted with however was two robots staring at her. There was an orange opticed robot in the shape of a Turret, except it having long legs, arms and it's body was slightly bigger then the original she was used to. The other right beside them was spherical, shorter and had a blue optic instead but still adorned the same limbs. That one specifiically reminded Chell of a certain blue core who she just sent to the moon and if this was Glados's way of a practical joke then it was way too soon.

Chell started to pick herself up, her muscles aching but nothing too bad. She grasped her sides where the burns were from the Stalemate Trap but noticed something wrapped around her waist tightly, she ran her fingers over the fabric of her tanktop and felt soft ridges underneath it. Bandages.

"Oh thank god, you're alright!" Glados cooed (Now that's something Chell never thought she would hear).

Glados was back to being a ginormous machine wired to the ceiling and thus back in power of The Facility once more. Chell expected herself to be quaking in fear and itching her trigger finger on her Portal Gun but somehow she felt safe, at ease even.

"Y'know... Being Caroline tought me a valuable lesson. I thought you were my greatest enemy, when all along you were my best friend,"

The wall-plates hummed and swayed calmy, a similar rythm to a heart beat.

"The surge of emotion when I saved your life tought me an even more valuable lesson,"

Her tone was so sweet and warm, too sweet if you asked Chell. Even after all they went through, Glados has never sounded like this. It gave Chell the feeling something was being set-up, like glancing down at a rug she was standing on only to see Glados gripping it between her hypothetical fingers. She was saying all the things Glados presumed Chell wanted to hear like them being best friends and changing for the better. This had 'Dangling a turkey leg on a rope hanging from the ceiling' written all over it.

But the real question why... Oh, who was Chell kidding? This platform was gonna give out and dunk her in a relaxation vault any second so she could continue testing.

"Where Caroline lives in my brain!" You could practically hear the forced smile through her words.

Then suddenly through the intercoms, there was long beep and everything froze.

"Caroline deleted," the intercom voice announced.

There it was.

"Goodbye, Caroline..." Glados shifted away from Chell and churned her downwards in solemn.

"You know, deleting Caroline just now tought me a valuable lesson. The best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one and I'll be honest, killing you is hard," Her voice returned to it's cold and monotone demeanor, for some reason it made Chell more at ease then the previous because at least everyone now is being honest.

"You know what my days used to be like? I just tested. Nobody murdered me, or put me in a potato, or fed me to birds. I had a pretty good life and then you showed up. You dangerous, mute, lunatic,"

The words sounded like Glados shoudl want her dead but for some reason it lacked that icey venom from when she really did mean it. It made Chell's eyebrows knit together and her gaze fixated on her intensely, trying to pick this situation apart the best she could. Nothing was adding up.

"So you know what? You win! Just go,"

Chell eyes widened as the platform rumbled beneath her boots and it started to raise upwords.

"It's been fun, don't-"

Chell hopped over a safety rail and plummeted off the platform towards the ground. Her Long Fall boots clicked once she hit the smooth surface, landing elegantly.

Glados jolted back in shock and then leaned down towards Chell, narrowing her shutters. "What did you do that for? It wasn't a trap, I promise. You need to work on your paranoia if you want to survive up there, that much anxiety will kill you instantly,"

Chell walked closer to her, a determined smirk growing on her face.

"I want nothing else to do with you!" Glados retorts defensively. "Now please go-

Chell caressed her hand on the smooth yet aged metal of Glados's head like you would the face of a person, rubbing her thumb softly. She pressed her lips near the right corner of Glados's optic, you could hear a small gasp escape Glados's thoughts and then jerked away from Chell's touch.

But Chell didn't mind, she only mouthed a silent "Thank you," and she didn't even try to hide the smile still present.

There was a silence between them except the faint intelligible chatter of the droids behind them.

"Ahem.." Glados choked out, even though she had no reason to. "Atlas, Pbody, please bring back down the elevator,"

Atlas and Pbody scurried off out of the chamber and to wherever control deck they needed to be to access.

"You could have left earlier if you didn't pull that little stunt, you even smudged my Core shell with your gross human mouth and now I might have contracted a disease despite that being impossible. That is how badly you screwed it up. I hope you're happy with yourself, what you did was very stupid,"

[vivianwantstosleep]

You could never see her

And yet you want to be her

With how she sings on that stage

It's like she's putting put up a charade

Her mystic visage

Is it just a mirage

Her beautiful age

Is it all for stage

Do you think all that pain

Is worth the rage

Or are you as blind

As her and I

To the tears that fall from her eyes

Is it worth those 15 minutes

Or is just another gold ticket

I implore you to stick around

And find out how this canary

Got caged and got out

All we know of this story

And the marionette of this quarry

Listen well and listen wide

As I tell you the story of

Starlight Hyde

People running in different directions.

Instructions being shouted in all directions.

And in the middle was a gaggle of girls and their manager, standing in one location.

Even with all the hustle and bustle you could still hear what he said clearly,

As if he wanted the whole world to know.

"Look at you girls, you’ve grown so much. Starlight's new single hit number one on the charts. CANDYS ‘album has hit the top 100. And not to mention being the guest appearance on that popular afternoon Tv show. Aren’t we glad that the host was a fan of Starlight’s. You guys have another concert tomorrow to celebrate your 2nd year anniversary and it the dress rehearsal looked great today. Good job Starlight… and girls. A toast is in order, you all did great."

He walked them to their changing room.

Then as the man exited the scene, all but one huddled together.

They had locked her out, like always.

She was excluded.

She sat outside their circle, as they gossiped and grimaced in front of her face.

As if they didn’t care.

As if she didn’t exist.

"Honestly it sounded like he just wanted to congratulate Starlight. He doesn't care about the rest of us."

"Hmm."

"True."

“Her new single did get number one. Maybe that’s why.”

“But he always talks about her. What’s so special about her?”

“I know right? She’s not even that cute.”

“And she’s so dull. Why doesn’t he pay attention to me?”

“Or at least anyone but her.”

“She’s just a hog.”

"She’s so mean."

"What's the point?"

There was a long silence in the room. The sound of ice clicking together in the cup was heard by all.

"Maybe we should just graduate already."

There was a shift in the table as someone jumped up. Knocking into the table.

"No! You can't. I need you guys. The company needs you guys."

"No, you don't. In fact, nobody needs us. Our manager does not care. I don’t think the fans even care.”

A pensive face appeared on her. She just couldn't understand. Why would they say that. That's not true! Even if she knew deep down that it was true, she couldn't accept that. They can't leave.

"That's not true, he does! He mentioned the album and it raising in the ranks. He wouldn't have if he didn't care. And the fans would riot if you guys suddenly disappeared.”

"Oh come on Starlight. The fans don’t care. And he obviously did it to not sound bias. We all heard him raving about your up-and-coming single. And it's no wonder he did, you know how much money the company makes off you. You are all he cares about, we're just collateral."

"That's not true! He's proud of you, of us. We did great in that album and poured our hearts and souls into it. He knows it. This is a huge accomplishment for the group, for us. We'll be world-renowned in no time. And he knows that. It's not just me, it's all of u-"

"SHUT UP. He doesn't give a fuck about the rest of us. The only thing he liked from the album was your solos. I heard him say it to the other managers. 'Starlight was so good. The rest suck though, but at least they make Starlight look better blah blah blah.' He couldn't care less. After all, you the company's golden goose, this group was made around you. All the interns practically worship the ground you walk on. Managers, fight for you. Executives, “whatever you want”. PR team, it doesn't matter. News reporters, you can do no wrong. Gossip mags, she's the greatest. Fans, we'd DIE for you. Hell, even other celebrities LOVE you. He doesn't care about us, they don't care about us. It wouldn't matter if we all quit, as long as you're here nobody would bat an eye. They would just hire our replacements or something off the bat. I bet the only reason we still have our jobs is because of you. Well, am I right?"

"..."

You couldn't lie. It was true. They had almost been terminated a couple of times. But you fought for them every time. You wonder if the cared or were insulted. After all it's not like they liked you.

"I fucking knew it. He doesn't care because he has you. What's the point in being a part of this group if I'm always going to play second fiddle to the same pompous, immature brat."

*BANG*

Your manager had returned awhile ago. Listening the whole time. Biting his tongue or more of peacefully observing, watching what you'd say. It's only when he felt like they had gone far enough, did he say something. His calm demeanor turned cold in seconds, slamming both hands on the table rattling the drinks on it.

"CAMI! Be nicer to Starlight! Or else I'll have you terminated."

"See, I told you. Let's go girls."

And with that they left.

Alone.

Without her.

She was alone, so alone.

Even as her manager slowly wrapped his arms around her in comfort, she felt so alone.

More alone than ever before.

They hate me

Maybe... I should just go

Maybe... I should just leave

Escape to where no one can find me...

Because I'm tired...

I'm tired of this.

The saddest tune is sung by thee

Will no one answer her plee

I don’t own and of the dividers

[welleducatedinfant]

in honor of my beloved brother’s birthday here’s some of their greatest hits

happy birthday silly goose I love you so much everyone say happy birthday to my lil brother RIGHT NOW!!!!

@cicadaboybat