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when-worlds-end-archive · 3 years ago

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His Empress

A/N - This is the first time I’ve gotten a Star Wars prompt and I’m so excited for this Kylo Ren story! Please know that this somewhat of an alternate timeline, with Kylo Ren and Rey’s force-bond existing while Poe is captured and Poe’s capture lasting a few weeks rather than a few days.

Day 12 of Writer’s Block Challenge

Pairing(s) : Kylo Ren x Female!Reader, slight Poe x Platonic!Reader

Summary : You, feeling angry that your boyfriend is ignoring you for his force-bond partner, befriend a captured resistance pilot. When he finds out what you’ve been doing without telling him, he’s just a tab bit mad.

Warning(s) : “God” is said once. Mainly floof.

Word Count : 1,546

You’d never admit it to anyone but you were jealous.

You were jealous of her, of the girl who had attracted the attention of you boyfriend, of the girl who shared a “connection” with him through means you could never understand, of the girl who kept him up at night.

At first you had been okay with it, your daily routine stayed the same. You still woke up to soft morning kisses from your beloved, you still ate breakfast together while discussing his plans for the day, you still joked around while watching him practice new tricks with his lightsaber, you still talked about your days over dinner, and you still fell asleep in his arms.

But now, you weren’t so okay with it. All your moments, the ones that were sacred between you two, were now part of the past because of her. Gone where the private kisses and lingering touches. Gone were the silly conversations between his meetings that neither of you wanted to end. Gone were the moments spent alone in your bed when you were cuddled up together.

You’d tried your best to enforce those moments, you really had. You’d asked him to join you for meals, asked him to walk with you around the ship, asked him to set aside time for you, but even still, he always ended up brushing you off with something about how she was “important to the success of the First Order.”

What about what’s important for the success of our relationship? You think bitterly as you stride through the ship, no particular destination in mind.

Left, left, right, left, right, each turn takes you farther and farther away from your empty room. Just what you need. You don’t feel like being reminded of that fact that he had left you alone, that he had chosen her over you once again.

It’s not for a bit that you finally look up and find yourself in a place you do not know. You current status turning from bitter to completely and utterly lost.

“Where the hell am I?” You ask the air around you, not expecting any answer due to the fact that you were alone.

“You’re in the prisoner’s quarters,” a voice pipes up from your left.

You jump in fright, whipping around to see that a doorway had opened up when you passed. It revealed a man strapped to a contraption that looked rather uncomfortable. A handsome man, in a rugged way, black curls, tan skin, not exactly your type but close enough.

“And you are?” You ask softly, entering the room cautiously.

“Why should I tell you?” He had a fair point, being the one tied up when you weren’t.

“Nevermind then,” you sit down in front of him, “I’ll just call you Joe.”

“My name’s no Joe,” he states indignantly.

“Then how about Matt?”

“That’s not my name either.”

“Liam?”

“No.”

“John?”

“No.”

“Thomas?”

“What’s with all these stereotypical names?”

“My creativity can only stretch so far,” you shrug, “you won’t give me your name so I’m trying to settle on something else to call you.”

“It’s Poe,” he finally states after a few seconds of consideration, “and you are?”

“Y/N,” you smile, trying to convey that you meant him no harm, “and I know it’s a stupid question but humor me. How had your day been so far?”

“Pretty good,” he plays along, “went to the gym, practiced with my blaster, had a pleasant conversation with a beautiful gal. All in all, it’s been a pretty decent day. What about you?”

“More or less the same. Got up, had some breakfast, took a stroll to nowhere in particular, had a nice conversation with some handsome guy,” you respond accordingly, both of you choosing to ignore the situation he was in.

“What did you have for breakfast?” He questions, continuing the flow of conversation.

“Had some blueberries with a slice of bread,” you respond, thinking back to your meal.

“I haven’t had blueberries since I was a kid,” he comments softly, "can’t remember what they taste like, just that they were good.”

“What if I brought you some later? If I can find my way back here?” Your offer, not for purely selfless reasons.

“I’d like that,” he grins, something that implies his stay just got a little bit better. Good.

“Then I’ll be back later with those blueberries.”

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And that was how it went for the next few weeks. Every meal you had, you would share with Poe, bringing him different types of food each time. It had become habit, a ritual, your new form of normal, and you liked it.

“How are you today kind sir?” You ask as you enter the room, two plates of strawberries, jam, and toast in your hands.

“Not too bad, my fair lady,” he responded playfully as you unlocked and unhooked the leather straps restricting his arms.

That was another thing that had changed, the level of trust you had in one another. At first you had fed him yourself, but somewhere along the line you began to release his bindings so he could eat on his own. He'd never once tried to get the key from you, not that you gave him much of a chance.

“Did anything interesting happen while I was away?” It was your typical way of starting a conversation.

“Not much besides getting grilled for information,” he answers plainly, taking a bite out of his toast.

“God, this is so good,” he mumbles through his mouthful, “can I have this tomorrow too?”

You let out a laugh, taking a bite out of your own toast and nodding, “that can be arranged.”

He pumps his fist in the arm, being careful to not jostle his other arm, a sight that makes you laugh out loud. It's a laugh that gets cut short when the door opens and Kylo Ren steps in, General Hux following short behind.

“Kylo Ren, General Hux,” you stand up, your plate forgotten on the ground, “what are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that question,” Kylo’s voice sounds through the helmet, slightly garbled from the voice modulation box.

“I was keeping the prisoner company,” you tell him, standing your ground.

“Seems like a little more than that,” Hux comments, to which you respond with a deathly stare.

If looks could kill, that man would be well past six feet under.

“That is enough,” Kylo boomed, “General Hux, re-strap the prisoner. And you, you will be coming with me.”

You looked over your shoulder at Poe as Kylo drags you out of the room, mouthing a quick “I’m sorry” before he disappears from view. You were worried for him and the pain Hux would instill upon him, but as Kylo strides down the corridor, you begin to worry more for yourself.

You count each turn as you take them, left, right, left, right, right, every single one nurturing the seed of fear rooted deep in your stomach. Whatever Kylo had in store for you, it likely wouldn’t be pretty.

You finally come to a stop at your door, his hand going to open it before pushing you inside with a surprising amount of gentleness. The second it closes behind him, his helmet is peeled off, his arms are wrapped around your waist, and his nose is buried into your hair.

“Kylo?” You ask softly, scared to move even a millimeter.

“I couldn’t find you,” he whispers softly, “I looked everywhere and I couldn’t find you. I thought you’d left me.”

You’re about to comfort him, about to wrap your arms around him, about to kiss him, but then you remember the reason you were with Poe in the first place.

“I should have,” you pull away from him, turning around to jab your finger into his chest, “with the way you’ve been treating me these past few weeks, I really should have.”

“What are you talking about?” A confused look crosses his face.

“You really don’t know? The all powerful Kylo Ren really doesn’t know why I’m mad?” You used his full title, something you only did when you were truly angry.

“I wouldn’t have asked you the question if I knew the answer. I don’t dance around the point like you do.” His answer only served to infuriate you more.

“Her,” you state, “you’ve been ignoring me for weeks because of her.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d have assumed you’d rather be in a relationship with her than me.” That last part was a teeny bit uncalled for but you didn’t care, you were livid with him.

The second he registered what you had said, his hand was pressing against your lips to keep you quiet while his other arm brought you back against his chest.

“Never,” he growled, his eyes staring into yours, “she means nothing to me. She is just a means to the end, a way to end those rebels once and for all. You, you my dear, are my everything, you are to be my Empress.”

That’s all it takes from your boyfriend for you to connect your lips to his, sealing his vow with a kiss.

“Then may the emperor reign supreme,” you smiles against his lips.

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emmacifer · 3 years ago

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Art analysis: 'Poe and Ranpo' chapter-opening art

The upward eight of swords? The Black Cat? The Murders in the Rue Morgue?

*Spoilers ahead for the manga, ‘The Black Cat’ by Edgar Allan Poe, ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’ by Edgar Allan Poe

Chapter 32 is the chapter where Poe challenges Ranpo and Yosano, but mostly Ranpo, to solve a mystery he has spent 6 years meticulously constructing, thinking that he finally would have his revenge on Ranpo. And, for what’s worth, I think it’s interesting to point out the potential references that are embedded in this chapter opening art.

# All my analyses are personal opinions and I do not mean to override any takes the reader might have. That being said...

The first reference is the upward eight of swords.

In the art, we can see a hand, or possibly just the hand of a body, reaching out from a coffin, and eight swords in an upright position jutting out of it. I haven’t really learned anything about tarot cards before but after reading up on it, I feel like it might have something significant to the card of the upward eight of swords. Please do correct me if I am wrong on any accord.

The upward eight of swords represents a situation where you feel trapped in a situation but you have no way out. The more that you think about it, the more that you feel trapped. But in actuality you are not bound by the situation itself but the thoughts by which you chain yourself. You are able to escape the situation if you want to.

In the tarot card, the woman is fenced by the upright swords but isn’t necessarily imprisoned by them. She would know that she can escape if only she’d take the blindfold off.

So far in the manga, there has been two scenes where Ranpo admits that he does not have an ability and that his deduction skills are his own observative intelligence and methodology:

Chapter 32, which we are analysing right now

And, chapter 56, where he tells Mushitaro he will defeat him even though he does not have an ability, but since his comrades think he’s invincible (dazaiscans)

Ranpo kept telling Yosano all throughout the first part of the chapter that he needed his glasses so that they could solve the mystery of the novel they were trapped in and return to the real world. He's shown to have not wanted to question the guests or investigate his surroundings, but since Ranpo's "ability" has always been himself, he is subconsciously or unconsciously doing it anyways. He notices things when he's not even having to put in the effort to do so. He can point out his deduction process and justify the outcome as he always does.

But he still said that he wasn't doing fine. I don't mean to mischaracterize Ranpo in any way, he is a very brilliant character with a childish, occasionally teasing personality but serious when the time calls for it. But in this chapter, his initial statement that says he couldn't use his ability because he did not have his glasses, did put him in a tight place for a hot minute. Now this is what would relate to the upward eight of swords. The card symbolizes a situation where you feel trapped in a situation but it is not the situation itself binding you, but your thoughts. You are able to escape if you want to. The lady in the card is able to escape if only she took her blindfold off. I wouldn’t necessarily say Ranpo is in denial of the fact that he does not have an ability, because, evidently, he very much is aware of said fact and acknowledges it himself.

The second reference is the black cat behind the window.

While most ability users in BSD have their abilities named after a famous work of them or a reference to one of their works, Poe's ability name ‘Black Cat in the Rue Morgue’ has a combination of two of his works: 'The Black Cat' and ' The Murders in the Rue Morgue'. And the mystery novel that he introduced Ranpo to in Chapter 32 also seems to be a combination of the tales of irl Poe's two stories, 'The Black cat' and 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue', with, I'd say, only the exception of it being set in the future since the original novels of irl Poe did not have any futuristic elements in them. I’m not saying that the mystery novel is an exact replica and combination of the two irl novels, it’s just that the overall atmosphere of the novel seems to somewhat reflect certain elements of the irl novels.

The Black Cat is a story about a man who hanged his own cat from a tree and later killed his own wife in the heat of a moment. The protagonist of this novel enjoyed drinking to the extreme and it was in the moments when he was highly intoxicated that he committed acts such as gouging out the eye of his beloved cat, Pluto, and hitting his wife over the head with an axe, accidently killing her.

The Murders in the Rue Morgue is a story of how the intelligent mind of Auguste Dupin solved the muder mystery of two french ladies who were killed by an unknown murderer in their apartment at Rue Morgue street. Said unknown murderer later turned out to be an orangutan that a sailor captured from Borneo then brought to Paris, In the novel, several people known to have heard the murder were questioned individually about the unknown culprit, just like how the people in the mansion were questioned about the murderer in chapter 32, in the novel. It could be said that questioning witnesses is a common theme that can be found for any mystery story but it’s just an interesting similarity.

The thing about the mystery novel BSD Poe wrote was that-

a) There was a murderer whom the people did not know

b) The protagonist was trying to find out who the murderer is

c) The protagonist himself was the murderer

In the story of ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’,

a) There was a murderer whom the people did not know

b) The protagonist, or protagonists, since there were two of them, were trying to find out who the murderer is

Obviously BSD Poe’s mystery novel did not feature an orangutan that accidently happened to kill people but that is where the element of the story of ‘The Black Cat’ comes in, because the protagonist of ‘The Black Cat’ murdered both his cat and his wife in the name of intoxication, which leads us to

c) The protagonist himself is the murderer

Personally, I feel like ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue’ fits better than ‘The Black Cat’ for the references in BSD, since it features a protagonist, who was amazed by an individual who had a very observant mind. The protagonist of the novel had much admiration for Auguste Dupin’s thought process and how he could read something seemingly simple to deduce something deep out of it. Much like the admiration and respect that Poe has for Ranpo’s ability, the non-ability.

The third reference is the roses.

Everyone knows that roses are typically associated with love, romance and passion, but they could also have different meanings depending on their color and their symbolisms in different cultures. Yellow roses in Japanese culture are said to mean jealousy, at least according to source. It might symbolize the jealousy that Poe has of Ranpo and his aspiration to beat Ranpo. But he is equally jealous of it as he is fascinated by it, which orange roses can symbolize: fascination and desire. They could also mean enthusiasm and passion, both of which Poe has for Ranpo’s company and ability. He admires Ranpo and his ability, in the way that one would admire their opponent in a friendly rivalry sort of relationship. He is constantly awed by it, and draws a lot of inspiration from Ranpo.

In conclusion, I think the fascination that Poe has of Ranpo and the fact that Ranpo acknowledges his and Poe’s encounter six years ago as ‘the only time I got pushed to my limits by another detective’(easygoingscans) is very compatible of them and I do believe that their rivalry and friendship is something that helps both of them grow and benefits both individuals. It is something beautiful.

Some more sources below for the meaning of roses if anyone wants to find out more!! Also thank you so much nika @nikadoesanart for beta-ing this analysis >//<

https://www.pickupflowers.com/flower-guide/rose-flower-meanings.

https://www.thursd.com/articles/different-colors-of-roses-and-their-meaning/

https://blossomtown.com/bt-news/what-do-flowers-mean-find-flower-language/

#bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #ranpo edogawa #edgar allan poe #bsd ranpo #bsd poe #bungou sd #i've been putting this off for a long time about time I posted this #art analysis #bsd art analysis #yosano akiko #bsd yosano #bsd meta

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a-dorin · 5 years ago

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pissed off - poe dameron

word count: 1k

warnings: none! just a lot of fluff!

a/n: i got a request for a poe dameron x solo! reader so here we areeee :))

summary: as the daughter of han solo and general organa, you receive a lot of attention. one day at the base, you run into finn, a newbie to the resistance. the two of you hit if off, and your best friend, poe dameron, becomes extremely jealous.

it was late at night, the base silent as many of the soldiers were asleep in their quarters. on the other hand, you were wide awake, sneaking around in the area where all the ships, cruisers, and speeders were located. you knew your mother would be furious if she found out what you were doing, but you had your father’s curious spirit.

you snuck around, in attempts to find the millennium falcon. for some reason, you were especially drawn to that ship. your mother always told you that it was due to the fact that it was your father’s beloved ship.

your heart ached at the thought of your father. just a month ago, he was murdered. the individual behind the murder made your heart ache even more. the man responsible was your own brother, ben. you wanted nothing more to reach out to him, in attempts to bring him back home. however, whenever you tried to find him, something always went wrong.

in the darkness, your shoulder clipped a speeder. you covered your mouth in attempt to hide the pained screech, but it came out muffled. tears brimmed your eyes, and you ducked down once you realized that someone was on patrol.

“hey!” a voice yelled out, “who’s there?”

fuck. fuck. fuck. you repeated inside you head, hoping that the person wouldn’t find you.

“i can see your shadow,” the voice stated, his tone assertive, “come out, whoever you are.”

you sighed, realizing you had no choice but to show yourself. you stood, coming face to face with the stranger in front of you.

“(y/n) solo?” the man raised a brow, “what are you doing out here at this time of night?”

“i’m a fully grown adult,” you snorted, eyeing the man in front of you.

the man was medium height, and had a good build to him. you figured he was ex-soldier, just by the way he carried himself. he had beautiful brown skin, matched with curious brown eyes. he was handsome for sure, but young. a little too young for you, even though you were only twenty-four.

“but you’re the daughter of the general,” the man retorted, “you’re very important to the resistance. you shouldn’t be wandering around at night.”

you giggled, “i know how to manage myself, thank you. what’s your name?”

“finn,” the man responded, glancing at the ground, “i don’t have a last name.”

“where are you from?” you raised a brow.

you had been tied to the resistance as long as you could remember. you had seen quite a few faces in your day, but since you helped on the base, you knew almost everybody. this man was unfamiliar to you.

“i don’t remember,” finn replied, his face crestfallen, “i used to be a soldier for the first order.”

this bit of information was surprising to you, “you quit or something?”

“i quit a month or so ago,” finn answered, “i couldn’t handle it anymore. i acted on an instinct.”

“it must have been the force,” you remarked.

“what are you doing out here?” finn raised a brow, his tone curious.

“ummm,” you bit your lip, “routine patrol.”

“you’re not a good liar,” he remarked, chuckling, “well since you’re out here, i could use the company.”

“you want my company?” you were shocked by his statement. usually, you weren’t used to offers like this.

“i mean,” finn rubbed the back of his neck, “who wouldn’t such a beautiful woman’s company?”

“i think she’s heading back to her quarters, actually,” a new voice came from the shadows.

you recognized your best friend’s voice immediately. poe dameron emerged, a solemn look on his features. his jaw was clenched, and he appeared tense. you didn’t understand why. poe worked with finn on several important missions. he even let finn keep his favorite jacket.

suddenly, you made the connection. this was the finn poe talked about all the time. finn, the infamous first order soldier who went rogue. poe admired the kid immensely for his sacrifices and his loyalty to the resistance.

“oh,” finn sucked in a breath, “well, it was nice to finally meet you, (y/n) solo.”

“nice to meet you as well, finn,” you flashed him a wide smile as poe lead you away, his arm around your shoulders.

the two of you strolled away, waves of anger radiating off poe. you wondered what was wrong, and why he acted to tough in front of finn, although they were good friends. part of you wondered if you did something wrong.

“what else did he say to you?” poe inquired, leading you in the direction of the base.

“nothing?” your tone was sharp, full of sass, “you didn’t need to butt in like that, he was just being a kid.”

“yeah,” poe snorted, “an idiotic one.”

rolling your eyes, you stopped dead in your tracks, “poe, stop acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

“i can’t help it,” his voice was quiet, “i hate it when other men, creatures, and whatever else hit on you because you’re the daughter of a solo and princess. those people just want you because of your title. they don’t see the way your lips curve into that beautiful smile, or how you scrunch your nose when you laugh. they don’t realize how easy it is to fall in love with your vibrant personality.”

“poe dameron,” you swallowed, “are you in love with me?”

poe glanced up at you, his eyes full of nothing but love, “isn’t it obvious?”

your breath hitched in your throat, your cheeks burning bright red. ever since you met poe, you fell in love with him at first sight. it was the only reason you didn’t want to date anyone else. poe stole your heart from the moment you met him.

sure, he had a cocky personality. but you knew it was because he knew he was a good pilot. he was probably the best pilot the resistance had. but people didn’t see the other side of him. the way his eyes softened whenever you walked into the room. the way he grinned whenever he made you laugh. the way he made sure you were his first priority.

for the past few months, other soldiers on base teased you relentlessly about your relationship with him, saying that you guys made a good couple. you always just brushed it off, as the two of you were too close. besides, poe was several years older than you. your mother wouldn’t be thrilled, but you figured she would warm up to the idea of you two together. besides, you were a full grown adult. you had the capabilities to make your own decisions.

and you wanted nothing more to be with poe. that’s all you longed for, to be his.

“so,” poe sucked in a breath, “you haven’t said anything, so i assume you just-“

“i am completely and utterly in love with you, poe dameron,” the words tumbled of your mouth, “i have been since the moment i saw you.”

a large smile enveloped poe’s face. you hadn’t seen the man smile that big since the last victory of the resistance. he picked you up, hugging you tightly for a few seconds. he set you down, and you felt his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. his tongue raked your bottom lip, begging for entrance. you allowed it, letting his tongue explore your mouth.

you felt the world around you slow as poe kissed you, his hands cupping your cheeks. as the kisses got more intense, his hands made their way to their back of your neck, desperately trying to pull you in closer to him. you wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring every moment of the kiss.

poe pulled away, “you have no idea how long i have been waiting to do that.”

“can i have another?” you pleaded.

“of course babygirl,” he grinned, “you can have all the kisses you want from me.”

he kissed you again, this time more forcefully than the last. you closed your eyes, loving the way his lips felt against yours.

“can i stay with you, tonight?” you looked into his eyes, your lip slightly swollen.

“i don’t have any issue with that,” poe smirked, taking your hand. he intertwined your fingers together.

the two of you resumed your walk back to the quarters. in the moonlight, you looked radiant. poe smiled to himself, admiring your features. as long as he had you by his side, he knew he could do anything. loving you came easy to him, and he wanted you to know that he would love you for the rest of your lifetime.

for once in his life, the pilot felt like he was truly winning.

#poe dameron #star wars x reader #star wars #poe x reader #poe x y/n #poe dameron fluff #poe x solo! reader #solo!reader #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the force awakens #the last jedi

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anime-alyssa · 5 years ago

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princess alderaan - pt 1

one | two | three | four

You are the daughter of Leia Organa and Han Solo, younger sister to Ben Solo. You are second in command of the Resistance alongside your mother, and have attracted attention from a certain Commander.

also on ao3.

welcome to my prompt series of poe x reader! the establishing story is already done, four parts and then the rest will be requests based on what you send. requests will not be open until all 4 parts are posted. enjoy!

tag-list: @ihavefailedyouanakin, @bitch-imma-head-out, @ravngers, @xxsirensong

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“I’m the best damn pilot in the galaxy” “I think you missed putting the word ‘second’ in there somewhere”

-----

Poe Dameron drove your mother absolutely nuts. And she put up with your father for a good portion of her life and dealt with you and Ben nearly killing each other as kids, so if Poe was driving her more nuts than all of that, he was either really talented in a way or just really stupid. You still lived with your mother on base (What can you say? You two were nearly attached at the hip now) and often she would come in after you, cursing him out as she walked through the door. You didn’t have as many interactions with Poe as she did, but from what she said you were thankful sometimes. He was a completely different person with you, still pushy and determined to do the right thing but less… annoying. You couldn’t understand it, but you just assumed it was because he probably was more comfortable with Leia.

You weren’t always with the Resistance. After your brother went off to the Jedi temple to train with your Uncle Luke formally, you went off with your father and Uncle Chewie for a very long time while your mother got things started with the New Republic and also the Resistance, since the First Order was now rising.

“Believe it or not, you’re probably better off with your father and Chewbacca right now. We can holo every night if you want to, sweetheart.” she told you as you clung to her before boarding the Millennium Falcon with your father. You were a teenager at the time, maybe about 16 or 17. You stayed with him until you were 23, a few years after the destruction of Uncle Luke’s Jedi Temple and your brothers turn to the Dark Side. You could have gone back to your mother at any time you wanted, but you enjoyed being around your dad and Chewbacca, and it actually helped you learn a great deal about the galaxy and surviving. It also made you a pretty decent pilot.

Once you were back with your mother, you began to climb the ranks. You wanted to do it properly - not just get to the top because you are the daughter of General Organa. When you got back to the Resistance, Poe Dameron was already a Commander with his own squadron of pilots and you were just a measly Lieutenant who stuck to the General’s side like glue, earning her place among the ranks.

Now, 5 or so years later, you were General Solo of the Resistance alongside your mother. You were respected almost as much as she was, having learned everything from her. At first, you sensed Poe was maybe a bit jealous that he wasn’t picked. He did work equally hard after all and was around longer. He avoided your gaze for a long time after that, but when he caught you quietly sobbing in the corner of the quiet Command Center after the death of Han, he came to comfort you in an instant. After that he was nicer to you. It was that moment where you started to develop some feelings for the man, despite him being how he was. Something changed for you that day, and you weren’t sure what, but you didn’t dislike it.

As much as you just thought he was being nice to you, your mother Leia saw right through him. He had been giving you heart eyes since he first laid eyes on you when you were 23, tangled hair, scruffy smuggler-looking clothes with Wookie hair attached and all. His eyes followed you when you walked into a room and everywhere else you went within it. Poe Dameron was absolutely smitten with you, but he didn’t have enough balls to tell you.

Either that, or he was scared of Leia. She assumed it was a bit of both.

Leia was determined one way or another to get Poe to admit his feelings, or have you both just fall for each other naturally. She knew that Poe would be good for you, because although stupid he was good at heart (and she knew you’d be able to put up with stupid, having Ben as an older brother and Han as your father). Leia also knew that you would be good for him, giving him something to come back to and something to live for. She just needed to figure out how.

“Mom? You okay?” you asked her upon seeing her dozing off, mind elsewhere. You saw her snap back to reality, smiling up at you.

“I’m fine, thank you honey. Just thinking.” she said to you, standing up slowly and looking around the make-shift Command Center that’s been made on the jungle planet of Ajan Kloss. “Have you seen Commander Dameron?”

“Not recently. Last I saw he was working on his X-Wing with the rest of the Black Squadron. I was just about to go help Uncle Chewie with some repairs on the Falcon, I can go find him for you first though if you want.” you replied to her, as she was walking out of the room and into the jungle.

“I swear, he needs to get his head out of his cockpit. He’s always working on that damn X-Wing.” she mumbled as she made way to the X-Wings. You laughed at her as you walked. “You can go help Chewie on the Falcon, I’ll go find Dameron. I have to speak with him on something.” she said to you, leaving you behind as she walked off. Narrowing your eyes at your mother walking away, you backed up and made way to the Falcon.

Meanwhile, Poe Dameron was elbows-deep in some wiring on his X-Wing, BB-8 on the ground trying to assist him. He felt as though his beloved fighter wasn’t flying as quick as it was supposed to be, and went on in to investigate. He was just about to finish some wiring when BB-8 beeped from below him, signaling the arrival of the General. He turned, seeing Leia giving a smile to the little BB unit and then looking back up at Poe.

“What can I do for you, General?” he asked, hopping down from the top of the X-Wing and landing in front of her.

“I swear, you love this thing more than you love yourself.” she said to him.

“Well, I’ve put a lot of work into it. Where’s General Solo?” he asked her. Leia smiled at him when he asked about her daughter. Oh, he had it bad.

“Helping Chewbacca with repairs on the Falcon. You know that was her home for a while, right? She loves that ship. Flies it nearly as good as her father, if not better, actually. Walks away with a whole lot less damage with her than it did with Han.” Leia said to him. His ears perked up. You flew? He didn’t know that about you - he had never seen you outside of the Command Center for the most part. He’d love to see you fly one day, especially the Falcon. Poe didn’t doubt that you were a great pilot, you were great at almost anything to him. “Oh you have it bad…” Leia chuckled. BB-8 chirped beside her as Poe’s face turned red.

“Ex-excuse me, General?” he stammered, at a loss for words.

“Tell me, how long have you liked my daughter?” Leia asked, a little more forcefully. If he wasn’t going to see where this was going, she would have to be forward.

“I have no—”

“Dameron, cut the shit. I can tell just by the way you light up when she’s around or when she’s brought up.” Leia cut him off, tired of beating around the bush. He liked her and she knew it. Poe sighed, accepting defeat and finally meeting her gaze honestly.

“The moment I saw her for the first time. I almost pushed it all away, but when I found her on the floor after Han died… it all came back. I can’t get her out of my mind.” Poe said to her. Leia smiled, taking his hand in hers.

“Oh, I knew it.” she said with a laugh.

“Of course you did.” Poe mumbled. Leia gave his hand a squeeze before letting go.

“Go after her. She’s good for you, and you’re good for her. You need something else in this war besides your X-Wing, Dameron. But if you ever hurt her, I’ll demote you without second thought.” Leia said to him, beginning to walk away.

“Y-y-yes General.” he stammered, watching her walk away from the area. Poe sighed, kneeling on the ground next to his droid. “Well, what the hell do I do now, buddy?” he asked his droid. All he got was a few beeps in response that strung together to be ‘Ask her out, idiot��. Poe scoffed as he climbed back up on his X-Wing, continuing his work. From on top of his ship though, he could see you all the way across the base working on the Falcon with Chewie.

“Try that one, Uncle Chewie!” you said to him, throwing up a wire to the Wookie on top of the ship. He growled back in response, getting to work on fixing the hyperdrive. The inside workings were all fine and dandy, but somehow the outside workings were all screwed up. “Who in the world was the one flying this to get this damaged anyway?” you asked him. Chewbacca looked up, seeing Leia in the distance throw a wink at him, signaling it was ‘go time’ for her little plan. The Wookie growled back a name to you, which was honest, at least, but also divisive to Leia’s plan.

“Poe?! You let him fly this?! I thought we agreed either you, me, or Rey only!” you shouted back to him. Chewbacca growled a rushed few sentences back to you. “No, I do like Poe! I like him a lot, he’s a great pilot it’s just - the Falcon means a lot to me and I only want people Dad trusted flying it.” Once more, you were met with some more growls. “You’re just as bad as mom, you! Don’t read more into that!” you said, face red. Chewbacca laughed as he hopped down from the top of the Falcon, taking you in for a hug. He looked over your shoulder, or actually he just looked up technically, and saw Poe and BB-8 coming over towards you. The Wookie bid her a quick farewell and went off to join Leia. "You two are up to something and I am going to figure out what it - oh.... hello, Poe." you said, threatening the Wookie but cutting yourself off when Poe appeared behind you.

"Is everything alright, General?" he asked you. You quickly glanced over at your mother and Chewbacca in the Command Center staring at the two of you and immediately had a feeling as to what they were up to.

Oh, those sneaky little nerfherders.

You were no kind-of-Jedi-whatever-he-was like your brother, or even just a half-way-there Jedi like your mother, and definitely not a full fledged Jedi like your Uncle Luke (you weren't actually Force sensitive at all, you were fully your father's daughter), but you knew exactly what your mother was up to. She was doing the same thing to you and Poe that she did to Kaydel Ko Connix and Jessika a year and a half ago.

She was setting you up.

Realizing that you hadn't answered him yet, you turned your attention back to the pilot.

"Oh, yeah... everything's good. How's your X-Wing?" you asked him, cleaning off your greasy hands with a towel before throwing it back on the ground.

"Gonna need to take it out later and make sure it doesn't blow up on me. How's the Falcon?" he asked you back, leaning against the leg of the ship. Maker, he was good looking.

"I need to get a droid in to run some diagnostics and we'll see. I heard that you were to blame for the malfunctioning hyperdrive." you said back to him pointedly. BB-8 chirped with laughter next to his master as he sped away, avoiding the confrontation.

"I - yeah... I have no excuse for this. I can help you with the repairs, if you want?" he said to you sweetly, clearly sorry for this. Poe was cursing himself out in his head, clearly trying not to blow any chances he had with you but feeling like he was. You sighed softly and shook your head.

"No, it's fine. I pretty much got her all fixed, anyway. I'm a little particular with who gets to fly her, you know? I'd prefer if it was just Chewie and I, and maybe Rey. But things happen." you said sadly across from him. Poe knew that list was short for "only people who my father actually trusted to fly her could touch" - and Han certainly didn't trust Poe, even though he hardly knew him.

"Hey, I get it. Won't touch her again without your permission. But I will have you know, I am the best damn pilot in the galaxy." He said, trying to lighten the mood. You gave a laugh at him.

"You forgot to put the word 'second' in there, Commander." you said shyly, walking up closer to him.

"Are you calling yourself the best pilot? I'll have to witness it myself, General." he said, his confidence boosting as he took one step closer to you. Your heart started beating faster in your chest as he was now nearly chest-to-chest with you. Poe wrapped an arm around your back and brought his lips to yours quickly, catching you off guard. You kissed him back, sinking into his embrace as your lips moved with each other. Sparks flew and you heard a muffled Wookie cry in the background, parting your lips from each other as you let out a giggle.

"That woman is unbearable, sometimes." you said to him, knowing that he would immediately know who you were talking about. Poe let out a laugh too, keeping you in his embrace to brush your hair out of your face gently.

"That she is, but we wouldn't survive without her." Poe commented. You smirked as he turned you two to face your smiling mother and an accomplished Wookie, along with an overly happy droid at her feet. "Still gonna need to see you fly though. Just to make sure you really are the best." he said. You laughed as you looked up to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Consider it a date, hotshot."

#poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #princess alderaan #myshit

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 5 years ago

Text

The Royal Family of Winnipeg - aka the Royal Family of Disaster Lesbians

Duchess Rachel Scieszka

“Give me those earrings, Rachel.”

The famous “R” from the book series.

Recruited into VFD when she was quite young and became fast friends with Lemony Snicket and Beatrice Baudelaire. She also had a friendly relationship with Olaf, where they pretended to hate each other as their way of expressing affection.

Incredibly into Astronomy, especially Meteorology. It’s her special interest, and her star charts are actually quite easy to hide codes in for the wary eye.

Figured out she was a lesbian when she was quite young- 13 or 14. Was really stressed about it because while VFD is surprisingly accepting (don’t care who you like so long as you get the job done), her parents were quite old-fashioned.

She became the duchess very young, too- quite soon after graduation, as her mother was killed in a car accident. Her father had died earlier of lung cancer.

Rachel is actually quite good at running Winnipeg, as she’s very good at strategy and politics- she’s also quite good at slipping in favors for her beloved VFD, such as hiding a spy, distracting an enemy, or slipping a note from one guest to another. She also was very close with her daughters, and with the friends who managed to keep in contact, and invites everyone to masked balls quite often.

Her mansion caught fire around the time of The Austere Academy, though she escaped.

Between The Ersatz Elevator and The Slippery Slope, the home she was currently staying in was found burnt to the ground, and she was presumed dead. However, it’s uncertain if this is truly the case...

Lady Duchess Jacquelyn Scieszka

Was adopted when Rachel was quite young, actually, but R couldn’t stand to leave her in the orphanage any longer than necessary.

Jacquelyn lived with her birth parents until she was three, and she only has very foggy memories- a cramped house, angry shouts, bad smells. R eventually told her that she’d been taken away to the orphanage because her parents were abusive.

Jacquelyn was recruited when she was nine, but due to being the child of the Duchess of Winnipeg, she had some perks that other recruits did not, such as visits home.

When Jacquelyn was 15, she asked Rachel why she’d adopted her, expecting her to say that the young Jacquelyn had been curious, or interested in reading, or showed potential for VFD. She was pleasantly surprised by the actual answer.

Rachel had visited the orphanage for a normal public service- going to the orphanage and spending a day with the kids, reading or doing crafts and encouraging them. When she’d entered the room for the smaller children, Jacquelyn was the only one unafraid of the stranger, and she immediately toddled over to her, throwing her arms up so she could be held and asking for bubbles.

For the rest of the day, Jacquelyn had been very attached to R, and when she sat down to read, Jacquelyn plopped in her lap and fell asleep. After that, R decided that she had to adopt this child now.

Was a Snow Scout for a year or two pre-recruitment. Nothing really notable happened while she was there but she enjoyed the camping aspect.

Most of her volunteer work was in Winnipeg until she became Poe’s secretary to keep an eye on the orphan management. She’s just as good at politics as the rest of her family, but she’s less interested in that than they are and more interesting in her VFD work.

She was devastated when she received news that her mother had perished in a terrible fire, and even more when she returned to Winnipeg and found out that her little sister was on a Snow Scout trip and had not received the news.

She was trying to figure out how to break it to Maya until she received news of the kidnapping, and then she was terrified. Whenever she wasn’t in political meetings or preparations, she was contacting VFD to try and get someone to rescue her sister.

Lady Maya Sciescka

“I heard that it’s a metaphor for death!”

Her birth parents, citizens of Winnipeg, mysteriously died in a fire when she was barely a few months old. Rachel was part of the volunteer group who put out the fire and managed to rescue her, and by the time they found out Maya had no biological family to go to, Rachel had gotten very attached.

Since Maya is so much younger than her older sister, at first Jacquelyn didn’t have much attachment to her; she only visited home occasionally, anyway, she was an adult with a life and a job. But one day Jacquelyn came home and Maya- who was three or four at the time- immediately saw her, dropped her toys, and raced over, grabbing onto her legs for a hug and screaming that her big sister is home! And from that moment on Jacquelyn was like “okay. Okay so she’s my sister now, I will die for her, got it.”

like Mother like Daughter, I guess.

Maya wasn’t recruited into VFD mainly because 1) they already had a member of the Winnipeg family (and the actual heir) and they didn’t need a spare because Jacquelyn was good at her job, 2) They honestly were running pretty low on resources and Maya was way too wild for them to try to handle. They told R to make sure her education was kept up and they’d recruit her when they could, and R was just fine with this decision because it meant she could spend more time with her daughter.

is Jacquelyn a little jealous of this? Maybe, but she actually loves being in VFD and doesn’t blame Rachel or Maya for this so it doesn’t affect much.

Incredibly into the political side of being a monarch- she and her Mother can talk politics all day, and she tries to keep up with foreign relations and, most importantly, current issues within the Kingdom so she can brainstorm ways to fix them. She really wants her country to be prosperous and happy, and she always tries to look out for what could help the citizens. R is super proud of her for this.

Actually has some serious social anxiety, though, and though she can talk really well when she’s with her family or close friends, when she’s around people she gets really nervous and can only get a few words out before she has to sit down. R was working on getting her medication and/or therapy before the Snow Scout Incident.

It was family tradition to join the Snow Scouts at some point so Maya was pretty excited to do so and talked about their False Spring trip for weeks on end. She was chosen to carry the springpole and was so honored.

She wasn’t super close with the Snow Scouts pre-kidnapping, though she got along great with Stephen and Chloe, but after the kidnapping they all became inseparable.

While Jacquelyn became duchess, Maya was in an underwater submarine overcoming her anxiety to lead a revolt and figure out how to pilot this damn thing.

#asoue #asoue netflix #asoue books #a series of unfortunate events #jacquelyn scieszka #duchess r #maya scieszka #mine #winnipeg royal family

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theotakulifechoseme · 6 years ago

Note

Marriage Alphabet for V?

Is... is there any way to change it so my mouse button doesn’t go back a page?!?! It’s an Xtreme gaming mouse that I got from Menards.

-Mama Nidiot

A-About, what about you made them want to marry you?

The affection that they showed V made him want to marry them. Just showing they cared by reminding him to take care of himself, to eat, get enough rest, and even the moments where their skin brushed against his own made his heart flutter. And he makes sure to return the favor.

B-Baby, would they want kids with you as soon as possible?

V wouldn’t mind having kids from the get-go, however, he does ask his partner what they wish. If they wish to have children later, he’ll understand and not press the issue. He knows children are a very big responsibility, and communication is key.

C-Celebration, how would they celebrate your anniversaries?

A picnic on the beach late at night with an extra blanket in case they get cold. For one, it speaks to V’s aesthetics, while for another he loves how the moon and stars reflect off the water and his partner’s eyes. The sounds of waves crashing against the shore also set the mood, along with a few candles. Also, he’s fond of engaging in a childish splashing war against his partner, as it makes the prize, a kiss, all that much sweeter.

D-Divorce, how would they handle if you wanted a divorce? What caused it?

A divorce would just shatter this poor man. V is the type to throw his whole being into marriage and would do whatever he could to try and make it work. However, if the marriage makes his partner unhappy regardless, he is willing to let them go as their happiness matters more to him than his own. As for what caused it? Probably his Devil Hunter lifestyle.

E-Earnest, are they serious about your marriage? Or can they be a little immature about it?

V is 100% serious.

F- Favorite, what was your favorite things before and after you got married to each other?

His favorite thing is just having the time to surprise his partner by showing up on their doorstep with a small trinket or something that caught his eye and reminded him of them. As they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder. After they’re married, his favorite thing is to come home and relax with them on the love seat and read aloud his favorite poems, or theirs, or even a novel or two depending on his mood. And if they have kids, he greatly likes hanging out with them, too, and asking about their day.

G-Giving, do they spoil you?

Not in an over extravagant way, no. V is all about giving his partner praise when it’s due, and maybe teasing them with light kisses that have them begging for more, along with light cresses. V also tends the spoil them by always having their favorite flower(s) on hand. No one, not even Griffon, knows where he gets them from.

H-Honeymoon, what did you two do for your honeymoon?

One thing for sure they did was visit The Musée de Cluny - Musée national du Moyen Âge, Cluny Museum - National Museum of the Middle Ages. V is a sucker for the Gothic and loves strolling through the place. He even geeks out a bit, which is so cute to watch. Also, the Louvre Museum is a must as well as the Notre Dame Cathedral and the Paris Underground Catacombs. Be ready for V to actually scare his beloved while in the catacombs, or even sneaking them away to a private alcove for a quick kiss or two.

I-Invest, how much do they contribute to your marriage?

V contributes a lot to the marriage and expects his partner to do the same.

J-Jealous, do they still get jealous even though you’re completely theirs?

It doesn’t happen as often as it did when they were just dating, however, the little green monster sometimes rears its ugly head when someone blatantly hits on them even though it is obvious they are married. V has threatened others more than once that has come to his partner with unwanted advances, which Griffon gleefully helps with.

K-Kiss, how often would you two kiss? Do you still have that spark?

V’s not gonna outright pull his partner into a deep kiss in the middle of the street or anything, though he may place butterfly kisses on their fingertips or kiss their knuckles, which always sends his partner into a flustered mess. So yeah, there’s always a spark, regardless of the kiss.

L-Live, where would you two settle down at?

V would prefer a home out in the countryside. Maybe a cottage or ranch style home... Though he isn’t opposed to converting a place into a home, mainly if it has an interesting history or something. Like an old church or maybe a classic schoolhouse.

M-Make, do they still make your heart flutter after years of marriage?

Oh yes, V will always make his partner’s heart flutter even after years of being married. He lives for it.

N-Never, what is something they would never do?

Cheat. V is very much a faithful man. He always would never harm his partner either.

O-Opportunity, do you two still get the opportunity to be intimate with one another?

For sure. V just has Kyrie and Nero babysit the kids when they wanna do the naughty.

P-Pet names, what pet names do you two give each other?

“Dear” “Sweetheart” “Love” “Darling” “Beloved” etc are all types of nicknames V calls his partner. His partner mainly calls him “Pretty Boy” “Poe” or, just to be funny, “Sweeny Todd” or “Ichabod” just because it seems to fit (and not that V could totally pull of either of those Johnny Depp characters, what are you talking about?).

Q-Quiet, do you two keep quiet about your marriage? Or do you always brag about one another?

V keeps it relatively quiet. He’s not one to really brag about it, however, if someone asks or needs clarification, he won’t hesitate to say “Yes, [Name] and I are happily married to each other.”

R-Romance, how do you two keep your romance alive?

Candle lit dinners and evening strolls help.

S-Selfie, would they take multiple pictures of you? Would they save them on their phone?

V has a few photos of both of them together on his phone and about 10 or so of just his partner. One of which is his partner reading under a maple tree during late fall when all the leaves have changed color. It was so beautiful that he made it his lock and home screen. In contrast, his partner has hundreds of V, and they have yet to figure out their favorite of just him, but they adore the one Nico took of them carving pumpkins together, with Griffon passing judgment at V’s pumpkin.

T-Teenagers, do you still act like teens when you’re older?

A bit. There are just some things that V cannot help but get giddy about, mainly Halloween. Around that time it is like everything froze from back when they were younger and getting to relive those moments over and over.

U-Unrelenting, what hasn’t stopped since you two got married?

V picking up little trinkets from the times he’s gone on his Devil Hunting missions. Without fail, he always brings something back that reminds him of his partner.

V-Valentine’s Day, what plans do you two make?

V always plans for them to either see a concert, be it classical or rock music, or a play/opera before going out to eat. One year it might be all dressing up and glam, while the next its more down to earth and homey.

W-Wedding, what was your wedding like?

You’d think it’d be this small classy affair... Nope, V is just as prone to the dramatics as the other DMC guys are. V wanted a small outdoor wedding that seemed like something out of a renaissance romance. Everyone would’ve expected fairies and elves being apart of it if they didn’t know any better.

X-X-Ray, can you two see through each other? Can you see when you’re lying or not?

Given that he’s pretty perceptive, V has an easy time reading his partner, though, on the other hand, his partner has a hard time reading V because he is so good at bottling up his real feelings. They just trust that with time he will come to them in his own time.

Y-Yearly Tradition, what do you two do every year for your wedding anniversary?

Normally travel to places that are rich in history and art and explore, similar to their honeymoon.

Z-Zesty, Give me your own zesty letters!

What do I even put for this, like really????

#HC #Headcanon #Devil May Cry #Devil May Cry V #Devil May Cry Vitale #Devil May Cry 5 #DMCV #DMC5 #DMC V #DMC 5 #V #Vitale #Reader Insert #V x Reader #Marriage Headcanons #Anonymously Dead #Answered from a coffin #itsanimagineblogthing #Mama Nidiot rambles

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coe-lilium · 5 years ago

Text

TroS reaction (1st view)

Necessary premise in bullet points:

- I liked TFA when it came out and still do but as I dug into the franchise/canon (Disney only by choice) my enjoyment of it became more lukewarm. Came out of it dreading a potential Reylo but liking the two charas on their own.

- went into TLJ worried I’d hate it, came out with it being my favorite saga movie and sold on the Rey-Ren connection, whatever road it would’ve taken. Loved the “Rey’s powerful on her own/bc the Force wants to set Kylo’s wrongs right”. It felt good after two years of being bombarded with “this fucking Mary Sue can have any power only if she’s connected to powerful men of the saga, she has otherwise no right in being powerful” in forums spaces.

- went into TroS non-spoiled, wary of Palpatine return but relatively hopeful if soured about the “JJ our lord and saviour pleease save us from evil evil Jonhson” (HA!). The rumors about lore from the tv series being featured into the movie had me excited.

That said, here goes: [SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE MOVIE, ENDING INCLUDED, RIGHT OFF THE BAT]

I didn’t like it. I really hope to warm up to it more in future views, there’s absolutely stuff I liked or even loved, but as it stands now it was overall a massive disappointment on many sides and -worst of all- threatens to retroactively ruin my enjoyment in other previous stories.

First, the positives:

- Parentage notwithstanding, Rey was good. Her rage, her fears, her good heart, her commitment to the fight and the training, her longing for guidance… truly, if the bloodline revelation hadn’t retroactively ruined my investment in the character and themes I’d have fully, 100% loved her even if every single other part of the movie had been the same.

Except for a brief war flashback to Starkiller game abilities (I lolled) I wasn’t even troubled by all the new abilities or their scope. Movies’ been inventing new powers since the beginning and the Force does what the Force wants. Again, fuck the genetics “twist”, garbage stuff.

- Kylo, next to… 95% that involved him? TLJ did a great job selling him to me and surprisingly this movie added to that instead of retconning it away. More competent but still stupid and petty from time to time. I’m glad he came back, glad he choose right and glad he was allowed more time on the right side than Anakin. I love redemptions and he was portrayed as wavering the entire trilogy, I don’t even really care that it could’ve done better. I’m happy for him and his family, that’s all. The kiss got a laugh out me but not a malicious one, I was kind of running out of reasonable reactions by then.

I’m just conflicted on how I feel about his death. Back when TFA was released I wanted him to survive to face what Anakin didn’t: justice (the kid-friendly setting prevented a death sentence anyway), atonement and growth from there, I still wish it happened and maintain that a different pacing would’ve allowed it. On the other hand, I’m also kinda okay with him dying. He righted at least a bit of his many wrongs, he saved a person he cared for, that his parents cared for and that could help the galaxy much more than he ever could and he was at peace. It was a good death.

- Kylo’s vision/illusion of Han. A surprise but a very pleasant, well acted one. Would’ve I maybe liked Anakin more, as Ben idolized him so much and for all the wrong reasons and because I love that disaster? Yes. Does Han work much better in the economy of the movie and trilogy story and do he and Ben have a much rawer relationship and history? Absolutely. I am a teeny tiny bit baffled as for why Luke didn’t also show up, but the actual scene was good enough I forgive it.

- Rey and Kylo bond and connection was one of the saving graces of this mess and I utterly loved it. Both actors worked their asses for for all their scenes and it payed off, oh if it payed off. Their DSII duel was perhaps a tad long but great nonetheless (Republic era Jedi jumps!), the hurt and the sense of absolute loss and grief they both conveyed -and shared!- after Leia’s passing was incredible, Rey regretting the near kill and softly going “I would have stayed, had you renounced the dark side”. She cared, yes, but not to the point of ignoring the horrors (something Anakin never quite understood). The “dyad” stuff was a bit overkill, just call it a force bond, we can see it’s freaking powerful, but the Force Skype and sharing of objects that came with the package, that I loved. Surprise lightsaber, Ren fuckers! :D Bet Anakin and Obi Wan were really jealous, that would’ve come in handy during the war.

- Finn was now fully invested in the cause, at ease, visibly happy to be with his friends, ready to bond and reach out, quick to plan, to act and to adapt to the situation, brave but cautious and calculating. I wish it was given a bit more focus, but I loved he found other young FO defectors. Also fuck yeah, he’s force sensitive and his ability is used, not just thrown in as a useless wink. Jedi Finn in future material, c’mon!

- Poe’s also grown. He was probably going to have more screen time with Leia had Carrie not died but there was nothing to be done for that. I’m not as happy as for previous 3 charas for the backstory retcon I’ll tackle in the negatives.

- Jannah was cool, the addiction of other FO defectors a welcomed one and the scene were she and Finn excitedly went over their “I broke free” moment was adorable. Good bean, I’d read more about her and her company.

- A bit lot annoyed at Bloodline being kinda tossed outta the window but getting Leia with lightsaber was nice. Give me some ancillary material to deal with the clash and I’ll fully forgive it.

- Jedi! MY GIRL AHSOKA MY MAN KANAN! I mean, I sure wish they were in a better movie, but hey, recognition for something more than the OT? No slandering of the Order but all of them collectively kicking Sidious ass once and for all? I’ll gladly take it. Anakin, my dude, I’m sorry your sacrifice was next to nullified but it was good to hear you again ;_; I didn’t hear Ezra’s voice anywhere so I can still hope he’s alive, well and with the Ascendancy teaching all their Navigators. “I am all the Jedi” remains a terrible line.

And now, oh boi. Here comes the long list of annoying - bad - stinking shit stuff:

- If I wanted to watch a 2 and half long videogame cutscenes I’d have done that in the comfort of my home without spending money for tickets. Go to level x to retrieve related macguffin, move to next level to get next macguffin and so on and so on. I liked close to everything in the DS II sequences, but what would’ve that dagger pointed at if the wreckage had fallen even a little bit differently?

In general, many plot points gave me the feeling they were stolen from the tv series and badly executed, like a mockery (or incompetence?). Case in point: Hux betraying the 1st Order out of personal, spiteful hate? Potentially good! The execution? A poor man’s Rebels Agent Kallus, already over in little more than 5minutes.

- Palpatine himself is a poorly, ridiculously poorly executed Maul resurrection storyline from tcw and rebels.

Because Maul was 1. explained and 2. got a good, long arc that made you forgive the undoubtably contrived ass-pull it took to bring him back while Sidious is just… there. You gotta accept it because the writer said so.

How did he survive? We don’t know and fuck you if you expect an explanation (they really had the absolute galls to have him say the iconic/meme line from Rots and apparently it was supposed to be enough?!) How could he “have all Sith reside inside me” when canon’s clear that Sith do-not-get-to-retain-their-individuality-in-the-Force, do not work well together (lmao) and he as an individual never gave a shit about the Sith except when they could serve his own personal desires? His entire approach to the rule of two and other Sith stuff is “fuck that noise, everything in the galaxy exist to serve me”. He’s fine dying as long as “the Sith rule”? Who IS this character, because he’s not Darth Sidious (as presented in Disney’s own canon, mind). Oh, you wanted explanations? FUCK YOU, screams the movie.

The mess gets somehow salvaged in the end as he comes to his senses and siphon the life out of Rey and Ben to de-rotten/revive himself to rule in person, now *that* was in character. Was he actually lying his ass off the entire time waiting for the moment he could siphon them? Hopefully but who the hell even knows.

In the end it just wasn’t worth bring him back. A holocron, a different Sith, even a hive-mind of old records/tainted wraiths of Sith (perhaps wearing Palps face to buy the old empire aficionados loyalty, idk) would’ve been better than “actually, Anakin suffered nearly his entire life and sacrificed himself for barely more than 25 years of peace and it still wasn’t enough to rid the galaxy of the monster who destroyed his and countless other lives”. But Johnson was the one shitting on beloved characters legacy and accomplishments, uh? Surely at least he’s got company.

Ian was clearly having a blast, so there was… that? And the initial sequence being legit creepy and the Sith storm or whatever the fuck was that. That can stay, it was cool.

- Poe, the latino character, got retconned from former Republic pilot (a backstory established before TFA came out and faithfully respected ever since) into a smuggler and gang member. Classy. What does Lucaslfilm have a story group for if not for stopping stuff like this from happening? Bonus Zorii being used for a “no homo! homo? no homo?” wink wink and for generally being a poor man Solo’s Qi’ra.

- The movie makes you worry for a character death three (3) times in a row only to immediately backpedal on it. The survivors are grieving, the scene is sober… and then suddenly! they’re alive! isn’t it wonderful? let’s insert a comical scene now that we’re at it! Sigh.

- The whole Threepio stuff was a contrived waste of time in a movie already full of more relevant plot treads that could’ve put that screen time to better use.

- Rey’s parents apparently aren’t assholes anymore bc they sold her into slavery to protect her from Sidious, which is… supposed to make it alright, a sacrifice in the name of love? If they had been shown trying to give her to a trusted person and then she was kidnapped that wouldn’t had been their fault, just unfortunate, but the movie shows them leaving their 5yo daughter with her in-all-but-name slaver so??

- Rey Palpatine… Rey. Palpatine. Gesù Cristo benedetto che minchia mi è toccato di vedere. That hurt. That was so hilariously over the top bad I just…I started laughing. On top of the entire thing, thank you so, soo much for validating all those fucking assholes who demanded Rey be connected to a powerful man in the saga to accept her powers and value, you hack. Jedi were never about power of blood and then you went and reinforced the very opposite. She ain’t powerful bc the Force recognized her as worthy to stop evil and chose to aid her anymore, she’s powerful bc grandfather was. Lovely stuff. Hilariously, now she has a lot more legit “Mary Sue” traits than before.

- Rose’s sidelining was a blatant bow to her and her actress haters whims. If in VIII she jumped at the chance of action, now she was fearful and “had to stay behind” studying maps. Fuck that noise.

- Even if she rejected it, underline is that the Skywalker line is wiped out and the Palpatine one thrives. I… just… wtf wtf wtf. A final “Just Rey” would’ve been more powerful -because now it would’ve been reclaimed- and less corny and in poor taste than a Palpatine taking on the Skywalker name. I’m not sure if Sidious is more offended or if he’s laughing his ass off in space!hell. Probably the 2nd. Bad.

- The final scene on Tatooine. It rang so empty because the planet brings warm memories only to the audience, not the characters. In-universe, that place brought nothing but misery to the Skywalkers: Anakin and Shmi were brought there as slaves and lived as such for years, Shmi was tortured to death and Anakin began his descent into the dark for crying out loud. Luke had to hide and saw his relatives murdered. Leia had no connection whatsoever to the place. The mera idea of burying Anakin Skywalker lightsaber into the sands of Tatooine and considering it a way of paying respect is… I don’t know, hilariously in bad taste? Rey, dear, what did you have personally against the guy? Put those sabers to rest on Naboo! Ah, but we can’t truly acknowledge the PT now, can we? Wack.

- It’s not TroS complete fault, that “honor” mostly sit at TFA’s feet but for all its omages, copies and almost slavish references, from a in-universe point of view it’s like the OT barely occurred.

The same evil man has been defeated (until next time?), the Republic must be rebuilt from scratch, a evil military is all over the place and must be dealt with, the Jedi Order has to be rebuilt… it’s depressing. A new evil taking advantage of the empire leftovers would’ve been one thing, but Sidious? He’s been effectively winning nonstop ever since he was elected Chancellor. He had all the power, all the influence, all the control and he maintained it all even as a rotten corpse in exile, the entire galaxy marching on his tune, controlled by his strings. And as the cherry on top of the cake he even managed to wipe out the family that could’ve, should have been his undoing! He effectively destroyed the Skywalkers. He outlived every Jedi, every survivor, every clone. I hate this. It’s sickening. I can’t even be happy Rex was on Endor anymore.

In general, the best word I can find for this movie is: coward.

So blatantly desperate to please, to be “forgiven”, to reference every single irrelevant thing -except the PT and the TV series in a intelligent way-, to throw fanservice after fanservice after fanservice no matter how nonsensical from all over that crossed the “corny” to wander into embarrassing territory many times over (Maz giving Chewie a medal outta nowhere? Come the fuck on now).

The cartoon series had twenty time the guts of this movie and I vehemently wish for Filoni to take the helm of the entire creative team in a very near future.

#tros spoilers #sw tros #star wars #star wars spoilers #tros negative #the more i think about sidious the more it sickens me #tros negativity

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starshollowgal · 6 years ago

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The Last Flower

This is a short story I had written. I hope you like it.

Maple Tree Glade, Territory of Connecticut ~ 1761

The hunting moon had arisen. But for Alice Munro, it was commonly known as the month of September, and September implied two things: it was time to harvest the crops, and Uncas would shortly be leaving for the next six weeks. The time of year had come once more when, Uncas, would depart with his father and brother to collect their furs and pelts, and take them to the nearest trading post to sell. From there, they would purchase the much-needed supplies for the approaching winter before returning home. Over the course of the journey, they would traverse nearly a hundred and fifty miles on foot, mostly through hostile territory, and would be sleeping out in the open the entire time. Alice disliked the thought of being separated from Uncas for such a lengthy period. She had been permitted to accompany them once on such a trip, saying she could help to skin and clean the animals they trapped. However, after realizing her presence not only slowed them down, because she couldn't keep up, but also because they had to halt several times for her to rest, which put all of them in great danger. Therefore ever since, Alice had henceforth vowed she would never undertake such a journey again.

Well, at least Cora would come to stay with her while Uncas was away.

Standing on the wooden steps outside the small log cabin Uncas had built for her, Alice leaned against the oak post and looked to the forest, which Uncas had moments ago disappeared through. She admired the transition from vibrant greens to hues of beautiful red and orange, just like the color of the sun. She loved the beauty the season of fall exhibited. Uncas had long ago told her Autumn represented life and death. The old year dying with the falling of the leaves, and the new year being born with the gathering of the harvest. Alice considered his explanation to be beautiful and poetic.

The year was 1761. The four years which had passed would find Alice Munro much changed since her arrival to this strange land in August of 1757. She had transformed from the timid English rose into a true woman of the frontier. She cooked, cleaned, helped plow the fields and tended to her beloved garden. Alice was confident, daring, bold, and strong-willed. Yes, Alice had changed much in those four short years. Even her proud, fine English friends wouldn't recognize her - but Alice didn't care, she had no intentions of ever setting foot on English soil ever again. The frontier was her home now, and she was happy here, happier then she had ever been before.

Since the battle between Uncas and Magua on Promontory cliff four years ago, a fight Uncas thankfully won, Alice never left his side. Even when Cora returned to England, to settle their father's estate and then promptly return, she refused the invite to go with her, stating she wanted to remain with Uncas; and stay she did. Over the course of the following months, Alice could often be found sitting, with Uncas, under the maple tree in the same clearing where they eventually built their cabin. They would spend hours talking, sometimes even into the late hours of the night, sharing stories of their families and childhood. Hearing him tell of his first hunt, excited Alice in such a way that she couldn't describe. His stories were like the adventures she had spent so much of her childhood reading. They were simply thrilling. As the couple grew in their knowledge of the other, so did their love: and when Cora returned three months later, the couple married the following December.

Alice smiled to herself as she fingered the simple gold ring on her left hand. The exchanging of wedding rings was a practice commonly observed only among white people; but Uncas insisted she should have one as well, despite her objections that she didn't need one. The argument was of no avail, for Uncas had his way in the end, and bought her a gold wedding band soon after. Later he would lament for not having bought her a jeweled ring, to which Alice would answer she wouldn't want any other ring, then the one he had given her. To say they were deeply in love with each other was an understatement in Alice's mind. She loved Uncas with every part of her body and every fiber of her soul, as he loved her in the same manner. Truly, she never remembered a happier time in her life.

As dusk began to fall, Alice turned and went back into the house where Cora sat playing with her son and daughter. The young girl of twenty-one years smiled at the sight of her sister playing with the little boy of two. Edmund Michael Poe looked exactly like his father, long brown hair, sharp refined features and piercing green eyes. Edmund's twin sister, Margaret Ann, looked more like her mother with each passing day. The only feature separating them was her hair. Where Cora had raven black tresses, Margaret's seemed to take on more of a golden hue. A memento from Cora and Alice's mother no doubt. A slight sentiment of envy rang through Alice. She knew it was wrong of her, but she couldn't help it. Alice had been married for four years, nearly a year longer than her sister, and she still hadn't been blessed with a child. Whereas Cora had two beautiful children, with another on the way. She knew that Uncas wanted children, and so did she. The two pregnancies Alice had, sadly both ended in miscarriages, one of which nearly claimed her life. It broke both of their hearts, knowing their unborn children had died, but Uncas held onto the hope that they would one day, be blessed with a child of their own. However, since then, she had been unable to conceive. Alice had lost all hope of becoming a mother, and she knew Uncas was beginning to lose faith as well.

"Are you all right?" Cora asked, noticing her sister was unusually quiet.

Awareness dawned on Alice's face as she went over and sat on her rocking chair in front of the fire. "I am fine, Cora. Just a little tired, that is all." She answered. Picking up the dark blue calico dress she was making for herself, she began to work on the hem.

Cora watched her sister closely while she worked diligently on the article of clothing. She was surprised at how easily Alice had taken to making her own clothes - especially since she was accustomed to having all her dresses made for her, and of the finest materials as well. Silk, brocade, satin and velvet, were the fabrics which once lined their wardrobes, was now replaced with simple cotton, linen and calico. The two sisters no longer donned the fine clothes and jewels as they were so used too. In fact, Alice found that she quite enjoyed the liberty from the restrictive corsets she was made to wear. She preferred the simple dresses she had learned to make for herself over the years.

"The dress looks very nice," Cora said.

"Thank you! I have enough fabric left to make a matching shirt for Uncas. I think he will simply look dashing in dark blue. Don't you?"

"Yes, he certainly will," she answered gayly. Alice continued on with her work in silence. But Cora's keen senses could tell there was something troubling her deeply, and she knew Alice wouldn't tell her what it was of her own volition.

"What's troubling you, Alice? You forget I can tell when something is wrong." She didn't answer. "Please tell me, my dear. Perhaps I may be able to help."

Alice paused her work and expelled a deep sigh. "Oh Cora, it is not as simple as that. I fear you shan't be able to help remedy what ails me."

Rising from her place on the floor, Cora came over and rested a hand on Alice's knees. "Oh, sweet girl, tell me what's bothering you."

She set her work down on the nearby table and thought for a long moment. 'Would Cora truly be able to help? Would she truly understand? I doubt it,' Alice said to herself. If only it was a simple matter and not one of jealousy.

"The truth is, Cora," she began, "that I envy you."

"Envy me? Why do you envy me?" Cora asked with wide eyes at her sister's sudden confession. 'Why would Alice be jealous of me?' she thought.

Alice looked at her sister and felt guilty for having ever said what she did. She felt the guilt the moment her lips parted to speak. But now Cora presented her with a question and it would only be right to answer. "Because you have been so blessed, where I have not."

Cora came closer and sat next to her sister. She placed a loving arm around her shoulders and thought for a very long moment before speaking. "Dear sweet Alice. You too have been blessed. Do you not see all there is to be thankful for? You have a beautiful home, health, and a man who adores you with every breath in his body. What is it I possess that you don't?"

She looked to her sister, tears beginning to whale in her eyes. "Children," she said. "You have children, and I have yet to be so graced." Tears fell freely down her cheeks, each leaving a trail in their wake. Cora pulled her closer and hugged her tightly.

"Oh, Cora!" she cried, "what am I to do? Uncas wanted children so badly, and I am unable to give him any. I know his father wants him to carry on the Mohican bloodline, and if I'm unable to conceive, then he may leave me. I don't want to lose him, Cora. I can't."

Cora held her sister close, consoling her as best she could. She now understood why Alice always became silent and withdrawn when the twins were present. It wasn't she didn't love them, she adored them. But Alice felt a sharp sting of pain when reminded of her two miscarriages. The deaths of her babies had taken a great toll on her spirit, even though she carried it in her stride. Cora sincerely understood Alice's pain. To lose a loved one, especially a child, is heartbreaking. The innocents' deaths affected everyone, but none more so than Uncas and Alice.

"My dear girl, it'll be alright. It'll be alright." She said.

"No, it won't."

Cora shifted away and locked her eyes on Alice's. "Listen to me, Alice, I know you're heartbroken, and I know Uncas is too. But listen, hope is not lost, not yet. It never truly is. One day, you and Uncas will sit out there on the steps of your cabin, watching your little ones play and climb the maple tree that both of you so love. I promise."

Alice wanted to believe her. She really did. She wanted the hope, faith, the reassurance, but all of that just seemed lost. Cora said she understood, but she didn't know all that had transpired in the previous months. Alice blamed herself for everything. All of it. The miscarriages. The inability to conceive a child. The growing distance between her and Uncas. Alice ladened all of it onto herself. She was plagued by their ghosts day and night. If only she had listened to Uncas, maybe then things would have been different. But her stubborn nature to help Uncas on that hot summer day in June got the better of her. She wanted to be of use. Wanted to work side by side with her husband. If only she had listened...

- June 1760 -

She had awoken that day with sharp pains shooting up her back and legs, and an unspeakable pressure in her abdomen. But the pains subsided just as quickly as it had appeared, so Alice thought little of it when she got dressed that morning. It was going to be a long hot day, Uncas had said so the night before, and she never remembered him being wrong when it came to the weather. Not once.

Alice looked over to where her husband still lay asleep on his side of the bed and smiled. He always looked so peaceful when he slept. Alice made it a habit to get up before he did, just so she could cook his breakfast.

On impulse she went over and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face, letting the back of her fingers glide across his cheek as she did. She smiled again, thinking about how lucky she counted herself to have such a man as Uncas for her partner in life. He had done so much for her. Given her everything. Alice now looked around their bedroom. It was modest and humble but she didn't mind.

Spread out across the hard wooden floor was an Elks hide, which Uncas had shot the Spring following Promontory. In the corner to the right of the East window that looked towards the lake, mountains, and fields, was a fireplace, a true luxury for most. Beside the window, sat two rocking chairs, which Chingachgook and Nathaniel had carved for them as a wedding gift. There were many evenings when the couple would sit there in the glow of the warm fire, and look out upon the lake. Other times too, they would spend their nights reading a novel Uncas had bought for Alice from the traveling pedlar, Thomas Wright, or just Old Tom for short. He would pass by their farm every few weeks or so to trade and bring them the latest news from the surrounding settlements. Situated between the West facing windows, looking out to the maple tree, sat their bed with its simple feather mattress and quilted coverlet. The quilt previously mentioned, had been made by Alice's mother during her long confinement in bed with tuberculosis. Cora had brought it back from her final expedition to England and gave it to Alice, knowing she would want it as a memento from their late mother. And Alice treasured it, as though it were made the finest silk and not from old cotton patches.

True, it was not Portman Square. It was better.

Outside a lark sang it's morning tune far off in the maple tree. Drawn back from her thoughts, Alice leaned down and placed a feather-light kiss on Uncas's cheek before rising to leave. She felt a hand take hold of her wrist and stop her. Looking down, she saw Uncas smiling back to her, his eyes now wide open. "What did I tell you about waking at the crack of dawn?" He asked in a groggy voice.

Alice sat down on the edge of the bed as he rolled over and kissed her. "I know. But I wanted to prepare your breakfast. We have a long day ahead in store for us." She said, referring to the plowing they were going to do to prepare for planting the following week.

"No, I have a long day ahead of me. You must stay inside and rest." Uncas informed his wife firmly. His hands traveled to her extended belly where their child grew inside her. "You must rest, Alice. Remember what the doctor said?"

She huffed and crossed her arms, plastering a vexed expression on her face. "O pish posh! what does that doctor know? He's not a woman. He's a greedy arrogant fool, who looks down on you and is reluctant to attend to me. I believe he would turn me away from his door if it weren't for one thing. Money. Doctor Ashford is nothing more than a pompous old windbag!"

Uncas let out a soft laugh. "But he is a doctor none the less." He pecked her on the cheek before rising and pulling on his shirt and buckskin leggings. Alice remained sitting with her arms crossed. "Please pet, don't exert yourself. I will handle the work today. Hawkeye and nooch are coming to help, and so is Cora and the children."

"Well, I may not be allowed to help you plow, but I can at least work in the garden," she said stubbornly. "There's weeding to be done if we are to plant vegetables and fruit before August."

"No, I will tend to the garden as well."

Alice shot him an irritated look but gave in. There was no point arguing about it. "Alright!" she agreed, releasing an exaggerated sigh.

Uncas flashed her a smile as he finished fastening the wampum belt about his waist and tucked his knife and sheath into it. He came over to where she still sat and leaned down, gently pressing his lips against hers. He then asked with a wide grin: "Now, how about that breakfast?"

The day wore on slowly. By noon Uncas, with the assistance of Nathaniel, had plowed most of the south field. Despite the adventurous life he once led, Uncas took to being a farm owner quickly. It was easy to see that he enjoyed it immensely. As for Nathaniel and Cora, they lived just a little ways down the path and shared in the work and care of the farm. Both brothers worked the land together and shared the spoils they reaped each year. Chingachgook, after much consideration, settled into a peaceful life with Cora and Nathaniel, while also making frequent visits to his son and daughter-in-law. All in all, life seemed perfect for everyone. Everyone but Alice that was.

Alice watched the hard laborers from her bedroom window. She felt so useless, sitting indoors knitting a blanket for her baby, which would not be born for another four months. She wanted to help, and that made her angry. Angry at Uncas, angry at herself. Nathaniel, who was carrying his daughter on his back, urged the horses onward further up the field. Even Cora was out there being of use. With her son secured in a papoose on her back, she sauntered about the field gathering rocks and weeds and tossing them out of the way. Why couldn't Alice help as well? It wasn't fair in the girl's mind. None of it was. She looked back down at her near finished knitting project and tossed it into the basket on her lap.

"I'll be damned if I have to sit here another moment!" she said to herself. "I'm going out there and at least do something that is of use. Even if it is picking wild berries for supper!"

With that, she tossed the basket on the floor, got up from her seat, and walked out into the open air and down the path into the woods. Well, at least she would get some exercise in, as well as peace and quiet away from her doting family. Ever since the announcement was made that she was expecting, Alice had been barely allowed to pour herself a glass of water. Ever since she had this never ending feeling of slothfulness, and she hated it. So the chance to take a walk alone without the disturbance of others was a welcome change. Alice reveled in the peacefulness of nature. Her hand began to softly rub her protruding belly. She hummed an old Scottish lullaby her mother used to sing to her, and one she planned to sing to her baby when he or she was born. Alice longed for a son; a strong little Mohican, just like his father. But Uncas wanted a daughter with golden hair like her mother. If only he possessed Alice's keen motherly intuition. They would have a son, of that she was certain.

She had barely traversed a half mile when her eyes spotted their prize. There, down by the creek, was the biggest huckleberry bush she had ever seen, covered in thousands of juicy berries just waiting to be picked. Alice came closer and took in the aroma of the wildflowers surrounding the shrub covered in little nuggets of black gold. Reaching out she picked one of the juicy berries from among the thorns and ate it, savoring its sweetness. She filled her basket, filled it to the brim. She thought about how happy Uncas would be when she baked him a pie from her newly acquired treasure.

As she neared the house, a sudden, stabbing pain rang through Alice's slender frame, exactly like the one she experienced that morning. It felt like a white hot knife was being pushed into her belly. A cry stifled in her throat, tangling with her breath and causing her to reach for the nearest tree for support. When the ache subsided, she continued walking back to the glade. 'Just a few more steps,' she told herself nearing the border of the forest. 'Just a few more.'

Tightly she clung to a tree as another excruciating pain radiated through her body. Her eyes traveled downwards and saw blood beginning to pool on the soft earth. Alice's heart nearly stopped beating at the thought of her child in danger.

"Uncas!" she screamed out, falling to her knees as another stabbing sensation rang through her. "Uncas! Someone help! Help! Uncas!"

Halting his work, the young Mohican's warrior senses seemed to hear the call of distress before it was even sounded. Darting in the direction where the sound of his wife's voice had come, Uncas, followed by his brother and father, found Alice lying on the ground, her skirts drenched in blood. Uncas mirrored the look of terror on her face as he scooped her into his arms and ran back to the house...

Present day

Alice lost the baby. Stress. That's what the doctor said it was. Stress which brought on her sudden travail. But Alice knew that it wasn't so. Once again, Dr. Ashford was wrong. He had also said it was miraculous that Alice survived, considering the great amount of blood she lost. The girl's entire body was racked with pain and weakness. Yet none of that could be compared to the pain of her soul.

As she had predicted, it was a boy. She was allowed to see him before they wrapped him up to be buried. He was beautiful. Although only five months developed, Alice could see that he would've indeed taken after his father in appearance. Wisps of dark hair were on his head and his skin already bore a dark complexion. Alice held him and kissed him and cried for him. Her little boy would never see the faces of the parents who were so anxious to meet him. Never hear his mothers voice when she sang him the Scottish lullabies she had learned from her mother. Her little boy.

Fresh tears streaked Alice's face at the remembrance of her little son buried in the field of wildflowers by the creek. He didn't even have a name. Only a little wooden cross, on which a single feather was tied, marked the grave. She looked back to her sister still seated next to her. Alice realized there was no point telling her about the struggles between her and Uncas. It wouldn't be right to burden her with her problems. Instead, she smiled and rested her hand atop her sisters.

"Thank you, Cora! I hope you're right." The corner of her sister's lips curved upwards into a soft, reassuring smile. "I'm very tired. I think I'll retire. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!" Cora said watching Alice's figure disappear down the hall and into her room.

Little did Alice know that her sister was indeed correct about her earlier prediction. Soon, she too would be sitting happily watching children play by the old maple tree.

The End

#last of the mohicans #uncas and alice #uncas #alice and uncas #alice munro #cora munro #hawkeye #Chingachgook #eric schweig #jodhi may #french and indian war #native american #indian #love #fanfiction #LOTM #Uncas and Alice AU #Uncas and Alice fanfiction

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lumifuer · 7 years ago

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Distrust

Pairings: T’Challa x Reader Words: 571 Warnings: Angst-ish Request: Hej 😘 może chciałabyś napisać coś z zazdrosnym Poe albo T'Challa? [Hey, 😘 maybe you would like to write something with jealous Poe or T'Challa?]

Summary: The king doesn’t like seeing you spending time with one of his generals.

"(y/n)," you heard your name and stopped in your tracks, waiting for the king to catch up with you and greeting him with a slight bow though he didn't approve of this little habit of yours. "I am most pleased to see you again."

"So am I, my king," you teased him before he briefly searched the corridor for unwelcomed guests and pulled you in for a tight embrace. His hand was on your cheek and his thumb was caressing your jawline with utter devotion but you had to pull away from his touch too soon.

"I'm sorry, T'Challa but my presence is required elsewhere," you explained seeing his disappointed look.

"I see. Is it about the newest facility?"

You were about to reply with a quick nod and head over to the other end of the corridor but something in his voice caught your attention and made you strain your ears in search for an unfamiliar key.

"Yes," you said. His furrowed brows and displeased pout were enough to connect all the dots. You wouldn't have believed in a thousand years if the picture wasn't right in front of your face. "I can't believe you."

Your smile and amusement seemed to confuse T'Challa even further. "What's so funny to you?"

"You're jealous!" you whispered, barely able to contain your laughter.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over the chest enhances the look of a stubborn child. "I'm not."

"Oh, sure," you mocked his tone and mirrored his stance. "I guess it's just my imagination."

"I don't take joy in seeing you with the general so often," he said. The thought of T'Challa, your greatest passion and beloved being insecure about your relationship wouldn't dare to cross your mind and yet he was standing in front of you and expressing his distrust.

"T'Challa, love," you whispered, allowing yourself a moment to caress the cheek of your king. "You know the importance of my mission. I have to discuss the matters with the general so our project doesn't get pushed back. You know these people dream about nothing else."

He scoffed in response and dropped his gaze to the floor, possibly remembering the last time you fought like a lioness for the facility to start working at last.

"You're right," he admitted, placing his hands on the small of your back. "Will you allow me to assist you during the talks then?"

It was your time to frown and it didn't fly under the king's radar.

"What is it?"

"I thought you had a little bit more trust in my skills," you admitted. "Or is it my faithfulness you're doubting?"

He looked you deep into the eyes and you found yourself drowning in the intensity of his stare. He was fighting a battle between wanting to ensure you of his infinite trust and faith and the darker part of himself, the insecure and betrayed one. Finally, he made up his mind.

"I would never doubt you, my love," he spoke subtly. "But I would love to spend some more time with you. Be it political or more intimate circumstances."

"Then I suggest you should wait for the latter," you spoke with a menacing grin and disappeared in the next turn before he had another chance to open his mouth.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated! ♥ ♥ ♥

tagging: @crazyfreckledginger

Want to be tagged?

#t'challa #chadwick boseman #t'challa x reader #t'challa x you #t'challa imagine #t'challa one shot #black panther #black panther x reader #black panther x you #black panther imagine #black panther one shot #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #mywriting

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maevejmct-blog · 7 years ago

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MODERN LOVE

It is a common misconception, that as human beings, we are one half of a whole - destined to traipse through life until we find The One. The final puzzle piece to your perfect life, your four-bedroom semi with a picket fence and labrador to match. A windfall, a rope ladder dropped from heaven - your soulmate. As Hugh Grant of the 1990’s constantly reminds us, it is an unbearable injustice to do anything but wait for ‘love at first sight’, for your babbling British bookshop owner who you coincidentally happen upon while touring your Oscar-winning film or for your Prime Minister who becomes jealous of your flirtations with the United States President.

I don’t believe I am particularly cynical in my suspicions of all-consuming love, I am renowned for the tears I manage to cry no matter how many times I watch ‘Love, Actually’. I am merely dubious that there will ever come a day when a boy will break through airport security for me following my rendition of ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’. But, despite my incredulity, I will always find myself, in a typically teenage fashion, pining for a boyfriend to drop out of the sky. Or, a more time-sensitive issue, a debs date.

But why is it that we, the social media age, the new generation of liberal and transformed teens still crave the feeling of being loved by all who encounter us? We preach self-love as we post our most recent selfie, indulging in hypocrisy as we refresh and reload, yearning for the likes which validate our insecurities and consolidate our egos. We are infatuated with fame and false realities, immersing ourselves in our latest love interest’s Instagram feed until we reach it’s inception. We know their friends, their sense of humour, their music taste - wait, does he have a girlfriend? And we reach our final destination of shallow and distant ‘love’ for someone who we only engage with through a like here, a retweet there, a ‘will you shift my friend?’ on a night out and couple of vague Snapchats where you almost strain a neck muscle to impress with your newly Kim-K-contoured cheekbones. Was there ever a time romance existed? The Jude-Law-in-’The-Holiday’ type of romance where on a spur of the moment vacation triggered by an untimely breakup, you meet The One?

Often, in our Internet orientated lives, I think we become too clouded by the ‘#RelationshipGoals’ we see on Facebook. We spend our whole lives groping for a love within which we can have spontaneous adventures and romantic first dates, but we search for it in all the wrong places. As you introduce your long-awaited boyfriend to your parents, will you be comfortable with answering ‘so, how did the two of you meet?’ with ‘oh… we matched on Tinder’ or ‘well, he shouted over the techno at a nightclub to ask for my Snapchat’? Or, is that just how things are done? In 1982, did people shout over ‘Come On Eileen’ at the local disco to retrieve each others home telephone numbers?

We, for some unbeknownst reason, seem to crave an emotion we have never felt. The encapsulating love of Durcan for his ‘Nessa’, the unfaltering adoration of Orpheus for Eurydice or even just to be likened to the muse of an Ed Sheeran song. We romanticise this mutual and personal paradise of love so much that it’s faults allot themselves in our blindspot. We fall victim to unrequited loves and disappointing relationships, ultimately wallowing in self-pity and licking our wounds to the soundtrack of ‘Someone Like You’ by Adele and pouring over poetry to recite the line from Allen-Poe that, ‘all I loved I loved alone’. Maybe it’s a feature inherent to the human condition, that we feel obliged to transpose our love and appreciation for people both physically and publically. Or, maybe we just get lonely sometimes.

To surmise the somewhat intrinsically interlinked feelings of loneliness and love, it seems only apt to do so with a love song. ‘Hunger’ by Florence + the Machine begins the first verse with ‘I thought that love was a kind of emptiness, and at least then I understood the hunger I felt, and didn’t have to call it loneliness’. In our ever-changing and ever-growing world, where the worldwide web intersects with our very self-identity and self-worth, we face an isolation that is gnawing and alienating. Everything, everyone is accessible at the click of a key but we are still met with this unequivocal and crushing loneliness that perhaps is only characteristic to this generation of Internet-users.

Despite outward appearances and shallow self-indulgence, we seem to subject ourselves to an identity crisis born out of our social media pages. We inadvertently assume a persona which is a hyper-version of ourselves, in doing so losing ourselves and becoming our own worst critics. Still, we expect to be swept off our feet via direct message and to automatically materialise as the person we have always pretended to be. Four bedroom semi with a labrador and a picket fence: pending. In our search for some form of love, we sacrifice the love we should first have for ourselves. RuPaul put it succintly, ‘If you don’t love yourself, then how in the hell are you going to love anybody else?’.

I am reluctant to lay blame for our idealism on my beloved rom-coms, but the reason for their existence is to capitalise on our lonely hearts club, party of one. In an alternate universe, absent from the lovelorn Julia Roberts in ‘My Best Friends Wedding’ and the surprisingly charming Jack Black in ‘The Holiday’, we would be comfortable in our naivety. Not waiting for ‘sparks’ or Mia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldi, Princess of Genovia’s ‘foot pop’. We would be content in our reasonably-founded love, rather than the currently coveted love-at-first-sight. Hugh Grant himself, the King of Rom-Coms, the Prime Minister of Love (Actually), has called the whole notion a farce. He stated, ‘I just don't believe in love at first sight anymore, even though I've based my whole career on the concept. In my experience, power, money and influence always attract the opposite sex. It's something that I've always exploited - with good results.’ Without Hugh at the helm of our hopeless romanticism, what hope do we have? Is our modern day love story just Kanye and Kim, the self-proclaimed contemporary ‘Mary and Joseph’ in Kanye’s song ‘Wolves’?

To love - and to place all your love in one person - accepting risk and reality that maybe the sparks don’t exist, that maybe you will never have a nocturne composed for you ‘using only the good notes’, that is love. Persevering, unfaltering and often difficult love. It is the platonic love you have for best friends and family members, the love it is impossible to live without. Maybe ‘romance is dead’ and maybe chivalry is trapped beneath DJ Khaled’s proselytism of polygamy and personal gain, and maybe I am cynical, but, maybe I am more Mark from ‘Love, Actually’, utilising feigned skepticism to love as ‘a self-preservation thing, you see’.

#writing #my writing #love #unrequited love #rom-com #hugh grant #actu #nottinghill #julia roberts #kanyeezy #modern love #young

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miss-pyrrha-nikos-isms · 7 years ago

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Tagged- Mun ABC’s

I’m afraid I was tagged by the ever wonderful @tyrian-pearl, the awesome @alphabeowolf-ism and the amazing @and-his-name-is-rouge-crimson, so please blame them for your suffering of this post.

Rules: Answer the below questions, then tag 10 blogs you would like to get to know better.

Age- 23 (I know. I’m old enough to know much, much better.)

Birthplace- Northern Ireland (Yes, it is a seperate country)

Current time: 1:19 am

Drink you had last- Chai Latte.

Easiest person to talk to: My partner. It’s rare that I find someone so completely on my wavelength. She’s beautiful, stunningly so, and entirely too good for me.

Favorite Song: Dearly Beloved- Yoko Shimomura. It doesn’t matter what’s happening, this song lulls me into quiet.

Grossest memory- Maggot ridden roadkill a friend drove over on their bike. I didn’t expect the crunch.

Horror yes or no? I’m in two minds. Jump scares, no. Deeply unsettling concepts that widen perceptions, definately. Well written suspense is catnip for my horror preferences. As such, Lovecraft and Allen Poe come very highly recommended.

In love? Hopelessly and utterly.

Jealous of people?: Occasionally. I try not to be, but there’s a lot of very skilled writers and artists on here.

Love at first sight or should I walk by again?: Walk by again. There are different types of love, and when I do fall, it is head over heels and completely. As such, I tend to play carefully.

Middle Name: I have two! Olive and Ruby.

Number of siblings: 1. She’s a handful, but I love her.

One Wish: More wishes?

Question you are always asked: Is that your natural hair? (Yes, yes it is)

Reason to smile: When things start feeling down, I tend to think a bit about the magic of writing, how words have the power to change everything, make us cry for those who don’t exist, how the covers of a book can contain a world, a home when our own is so far away. I tend to get carried away. Still, for me, words are the closest thing we have to true magic. That thought alone can get me through the day.

Song you last song: My Walden- Nightwish

Time you woke up- 8:30 am

Underwear color- Black

Vacation Destination- Finnish Lapland. The Northern Lights, silent snow filled forests, myth and lore of a completely different culture and best of all, HUSKIES!

Worst habit: I am so easily distracted...

X-rays: Fascinating.

Favorite Food: Pancakes breakfasts.

Zodiac Sign: Pieses

Tags: Please feel free to ignore this if you’ve already gone, or don’t feel like it.

@ourmissallison, @jaune-isms, @stark-ryker-isms, @terravolksisms, @vivalkonen, @churchboy42, @thelastvoidwalker, @alicante-and-stan-isms, @killua-lightning-zoldyck, @yes-raven-branwen

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frazzledsoul · 8 years ago

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So I recently had an unofficial binge watch of most of the third season of Gilmore Girls and

Why did I suddenly stop watching this show in late 2002 for no apparent reason? I mean, it was made for me. There is an episode with dueling Edgar Allen Poe impersonators and a magic cat! If that isn’t my type of show, I don’t know what is.

As much as I love season 5 and the better moments during season 6, there’s definitely value to watching this show before my ship set sail and everything got so complicated. The show was sweeter and more innocent then and it was easier to appreciate it as a whole. It was also a lot easier to like Rory when she was in high school.

Various thoughts on this mini binge:

The technology gap isn’t as obvious to me as it was a few years ago when I sat down with my DVD copies of the first two seasons, but I do have to chuckle at everyone running around with pagers when they already have cell phones. It’s so quaint.

Lorelai’s drama about which Ivy League school Rory is going to be manipulated into attending is so silly. There will come a time in the near future when she’s going to be grateful this is the biggest drama she has to deal with in her child’s life.

There are two major, major continuity gaps that popped up in the revival that are glaringly apparent in 3.18 (the episode with the inn fire, the dueling Edgar Allen Poes, and the magic cat). ASP wrote this episode, so she can’t blame it on any of the other writers. One of them involves Luke meeting Nicole’s parents and witnessing an extended conversation about yup, surrogacy contracts. Luke is distracted by his current parenting (via Jess) woes and it’s been twelve years so we’ll let that one pass, but it really makes no sense that he would remain totally clueless about how that kind of thing works years later.

The second one involves how long Michel has known Lorelai. He clearly states in this episode that it’s only been five years (which is two years before the series began, when Lorelai was 30). However, in the revival Lorelai clearly details that they first met when she began working at the front desk and he told her she shouldn’t wear a Thompson Twins T shirt to work. The scene Lorelai recalls had to take place when she was in her late teens/early 20s, as it makes no sense that it would take her 13 years to work up to the front desk and become manager 2 years later or that she would be able to buy her house 3 years before she made it to the front desk (and the Thompson Twins T shirt is obviously a tip off that this event happened long before then, as Lorelai would have been 30 in in 1998). I know I’m probably the only one who noticed this, but would it have killed ASP to hire any continuity experts to check for this stuff? The loss of Michel is pretty key to Lorelai’s plot in the revival and even if they stuck with the correct timeline, they still would have been working together for close to two decades.

When Lorelai was talking to Rory about having a few “three night stands” in the revival, she was totally referring to Alex, wasn’t she? The dude just disappears and no one seems to care.

That said, romantically Lorelai is all over the place this season. Christopher, Max, Alex, Luke. She’s got all of her bases covered and yet at this point her story’s mostly about Rory and Rory’s man drama and college choices. The show wasn’t at the point where it could really be about something else yet. So let’s take the guys one at a time, shall we:

Christopher. Lorelai spends the earlier part of the season distraught over Christopher and the fact that they missed their one big chance to have a relationship again. I’m only mentioning this because I think after this incident it was never really the same with him for Rory or Lorelai again. Rory could never really forgive him for showing up to be Gigi’s dad when he failed her in so many ways. Lorelai could never really be as starry-eyed about him after this: yes, she does give him another chance eventually, and commits to him when she shouldn’t have, but it was too late by then: he’d already failed her, and she’d been with Luke, and had known it could be a lot better than Christopher was ever capable of.

Max. I kind of wish we had gotten to see Max in the revival. They had a perfect opening with Rory and Paris returning to Chilton and it wouldn’t have opened up another love triangle situation, because Lorelai wouldn’t have been there. I would have loved to see him stable and with a wife that suited him and actually loved him (and maybe some kids). Max, like Dean, was a nice guy who just wasn’t right for Lorelai, and it would have been nice to see that he ended up with a nice life away from it all, like Dean did. It’s so sad that the last we see of him is being physically threatened by Lorelai’s presence while she pursues him solely because she’s bored with her current quasi-boyfriend (when she remembers he exists, that is).

Alex. It’s now occurred to me that Alex is basically Lorelai’s version of Rory’s Paul in the revival and I’m kinda creeped out. Well, at least Alex didn’t seem to take it any more seriously than Lorelai did.

Luke. Luke spends this season as lovesick and silently devoted to Lorelai as ever, but halfway through he seems to decide that it’s not going to happen and he’s just going to move on. I’m not really sure what Nicole was doing with him, though. He seems a lot more willing to go on excursions with Nicole (the skiing trip, the cruise) than he was with either Lorelai or Rachel (in both cases, they both stuck pretty close to life in town) but at the same time denies he wants to commit to her at all. He seems to always be looking for reasons to confirm that Lorelai might be a tad interested. When Lorelai tells him about the dream, it’s clear that he’s looking for what might else might be in there that she’s not telling him. And when he’s with her at Rory’s graduation and asks if she’s sure that it’s really a good idea for him to go on vacation with Nicole “despite everything”, he’s practically begging her to give him any little sign of hope.

All that time, he still was hanging onto that horoscope. Even after he married Nicole, he never let go of it. All she had to do was say the word and Nicole would be history.

Ugh, these two.

I kind of want to talk a little about the kids subject, since the season opens with Lorelai dreaming she’s pregnant with his babies and the one time they discuss the subject before they actually get together is in this season. I don’t think the dream was as much about Lorelai really subconsciously wanting the babies as it was about wanting someone who would actually support her and take care of her and her family (ie Rory), and that was never going to be Christopher. It was always Luke. I don’t think Lorelai knows it at this point: for her part, she is clearly jealous of Nicole, but she hasn’t thought it out any farther than that.

When Luke brings the subject of kids in the dance marathon episode to Lorelai it really comes out of left field. What does she care if Luke makes a few snarky comments about Sookie and Jackson’s suitability as parents? She’s not his girlfriend: she’s not remotely thinking about having kids with him in reality. Of course, that’s the exact reason he brings it up. He doesn’t want Lorelai to dismiss the notion of giving him a chance on something even as remote as him never wanting kids. But it doesn’t sound to me like it’s something either of them are longing for. I’ve heard lots of talk that their conversation about kids in the revival was empty and meaningless as opposed to this earlier conversation, and I think that’s silly. While it’s a cute moment that obviously implies that they are meant to be together eventually, it just doesn’t compare to a conversation where they discuss their life together and Luke flat out says that he considers Rory his daughter (and that he doesn’t need a son because he has Jess). He and Lorelai didn’t need a traditional family of their own because they already had one.

What I think some fans miss when they get wrapped up in the fact that Luke and Lorelai never had kids of their own is that even at the moment of this earlier conversation, Luke is already a parent. He really, really tries with Jess, albeit imperfectly, and he fails. Maybe it wasn’t possible to reach someone as angry and confused as Jess was. Maybe if Luke had been more proactive in making sure Jess actually finished high school on time, he would have succeeded. But it’s so sad to me to see Jess beg and beg that deadbeat father of his to let him stay with him because he can’t face life back home. But Luke was the only real father that Jess had, and his good influence ultimately paid off, even if not right away.

(And seriously? We were supposed to watch a spinoff series on Jess and his dad? I’m glad it never happened. I think it would kind of lessen all that Luke tried to do for Jess.)

I think too that we see that Luke really is Rory’s actual dad in this season, if only intermittently. Christopher makes a big deal about Rory forgiving him at the beginning of the season, but he’s got little to offer her. He can’t even show up for her graduation. But Luke is there, and he even cries: he’s jubilant at all of her college acceptance letters: he’s very overprotective when it comes to Jess. He was always there for her, no matter what.

(Luke must be a living nightmare for April’s boyfriends, though. Even his own relatives weren’t good enough for Rory, and we can see that overprotectiveness with April start to flare in season 7.).

Jess really does not come off well to me in this season. In fact, I remain confused as to why so many people remained in love with Jess Mariano for years after the way he ends things here. Jess polled as Rory’s favored boyfriend for years, and I believe the affection many people had for him is a major reason why Milo is so beloved on This Is Us (of course, the fact that Jack Pearson is a flawless human specimen has a lot to do with that, but I think that affection did transfer over). Jess lies to Luke, betrays the trust he has in him, and flunks out of school for no apparent reason. He tries to get Rory to have sex with him, avoids her, and then leaves town without a word for either her or Luke. And this is after beating up Dean, having Luke takes responsibility for his own mess, and ruining Rory’s chance to go to prom. I know he was a sullen, rebellious kid who never wanted to be there and had basically been abandoned by both of his parents, but he had a lot of good people in his corner pulling for him and wanting him to do better. I think the guy he turned into in the revival is a sweet, loyal, dependable guy who would make a great mate for Rory if she ever gets her shit together. We can kind of see him becoming that person in his later appearances in the series. But that is not who he was by the end of season 3.

Lane’s plotline kind of falls flat to me: it seems so twee and backward, even for a show like this. Dave is cute and patient and adorably awkward, but the kind of shenanigans Lane is pulling with him at this point are ridiculous, considering that she’s nearly an adult. I just couldn’t accept him as a real love interest, and I’m not sure he was any more suited to Lane than Zach eventually was. Dave started off perfect: Zach clearly never was, and he had to work to become the kind of person that would be good for Lane. I don’t really see Dave fitting into the kind of hipster mom/dad unit that Lane had settled into by the time of the revival. So I guess the guy is sweet, but I’m not getting it. At least she got a chance to go to prom, though.

The fact that Lorelai is willing to give up her dream of buying the inn solely so that Rory can fulfill her dream of going to an Ivy League school and not have to burden her parents again makes me love her so, so much. I mostly focus on the shipper stuff when it comes to this show but ultimately it is about one woman’s self-sacrifice for the sake of her daughter and I think we see this so much this season. Lorelai can be selfish and infuriating and we do see that a lot of the time, but she’s more than willing to dig her heels in and make the hard choices when it counts. In a world of Shonda Rhimes dramas and decadent superhero shows, we really need that sometimes.

And if you don’t cry at Rory’s tribute to her mom during her graduation speech, you soul is blacker than even mine and there is no hope for you.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls ayitl #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #lane kim #luke danes #jess mariano #luke x lorelai #rory x jess #long rambling thoughts #queue #my season 4 post will be much shorter

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king-krys · 7 years ago

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title:insanity author:lydias-mate rating:pg-13 fandom:harry potter characters:draco malfoy, lucius malfoy, ooc a/n:inspired by edgar allen poe. this is old lol. can be read as a stand alone or original fiction.

As I begin my tale, you, dear reader, will see that I am not at all, in the least, crazy. You will see that I did what I did for a very good reason, even if at first you might think it is not, but you will come to see that it indeed is. To prove to you that I am not crazy, I must take you back in time to really, where it all started, a time when I was quite young.

My tale begins on a dark and stormy night, so dark and eerie was the feeling inside the aged house that it was almost insufferable. You could see nothing but pitch black, like the whole house had been swallowed up into a shadowy hole of nothing. We had to use candles to even see a thing. When the lightning had struck the house, I flew from my bed and sprinted down the stairs as quick as my feet would carry me. As I could not see anything, I did not realize that I had run into something until it was too late. I tumbled down the staircase, landing on something soft that broke my fall, and also grunted from underneath me. I felt under me and was able to find that it was my beloved younger sister that I had fallen upon. I stood up off her and offered her my hand and helped her to stand. When she was up, she jerked her hand away from mine suddenly, and I supposed backed away, since I could still not see a thing, when suddenly the faintest bit of light seeped in through the darkness. The light was from a thin candlestick held by my Father. When he saw my sister and I standing there he asked if we were ok, and we both replied yes. Deciding to himself that we were indeed telling the truth, he told us to stay put while he went to see about fixing the lights. Before he left he handed my sister a small flashlight so we would be able to see. As I started to walk towards my sister she started to back away from me again. I could not understand why she did this so after taking another step towards her and having her back away again, I finally stopped and asked why she did this. Her reply was something I was definitely not expecting in the least. “Stay away you will kill me,” she said. And I really did not understand how she could stand there and say that I would kill her, when I loved my sister so very much. Days passed by and still those were the only words my sister would ever say to me. Some days she would say nothing at all, only looking at me with hallow eyes before quickly running off in the opposite direction. Now don’t get me wrong, I did love my sister very much, and I still do. But there were days when I knew why she was afraid of me, some days even to afraid to step from her room, scared that she might come upon me when I would be having one of my episodes. That of course started years after the first time she told me to stay away from her. I had become most jealous of her, as she was growing up in front of my eyes, into a beautiful young women, who was ever so loving and caring, and I could see why my Father favored her and adored her so very much. Every time I looked at my sister’s sweet face I became ever angrier, my heart becoming full with hatred for her. But I never once thought of killing her, oh no, I never thought of that, not yet anyway. At that moment I only thought to torture her, torture her like she had been torturing me over the years, always being so kind to everyone and making everyone love her, making everyone forget that I even existed. I tried everything I could think of, from calling her cruel names every time I saw her, to saying that I wished she were dead to her abnormally sweet face. But she would never listen to me; she would only turn her head and look in the other direction. I tried taunting her many times over a few weeks, but nothing ever seemed to work. Nothing, it seemed, could hurt her, and then I remembered a time when we were younger, it was when we were playing hide and seek, she had hidden in a secret compartment that was hidden in her closet. She had to have been in there for over three hours, for when I found her she was sitting up against the wall, shaking, with her eyes wide as if she was terrified that she would never leave that small room. I suppose that it also didn’t help much that she was clausterfobic. It took me months of staying enclosed in this morbid sanctuary I called my room before I had the perfect plan to get rid of her, forever, and I knew just what to do, oh did I know what to do. I would trick her into going into the foyer behind the closet and trap her in, never releasing her. As I set in my room and pondered over these thoughts I took a real look around my room. The drapery was a navy blue and spotless of any mold, my bed coverings matched the curtains, and the walls where painted a pearl white. A small desk set in my room, and to the side of it set a dishelmed bookcase. It was not much to look at, but it was, in the least, what I called home. One day as I was working on my plans, quite swiftly, to be rid of my beloved sister, my Father walked into my humble estate, usually he would knock before entering, but there were those few occasions when, as I had known for a long time, he would come home drunkenly, walk straight up the stairs, and quietly walk into my room. Those were the days I dreaded the most. Ever since my mother had died a few years back, my father had decided to take his sorrow and his anger out on me. He would only do this, of course, when he was drunk. Most days he was a rather good father, always showing new things to my sister, and explaining to me what he had done at work that day. But then there were the days, as I have mentioned, where he would come home late from work, as he stopped at a nearby bar somewhere, or perhaps even a small store, to buy himself the dreadful liquor. It was on these days that I feared, and some days even hoped, that day would be the last, the last day I would ever have to face my Father in his drunken state, ever again. When he walked into my room, the night of late, I pushed back my chair and silently walked from the room and down the hall into his room, where I opened up a small drawer that contained several belts and whips. I carefully stroked a small and hard leather black one before picking it up and wrapping it around my hand. After shutting the drawer, I walked steadily back to my own room, the hallway seeming much more longer than before, it seemed that it would go on forever as I walked down that long hallway, but I was very much too soon at my bedroom door. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and stepped into the now darkened room. My Father stood silently against the wall, his arms crossed, waiting for my return. I handed him the black belt and turned away from him while tore my t-shirt from my already bruised body. I stiffened my back, preparing myself for the pain that would soon race across my backside, and closed my eyes as I felt the first strike. I did not dare to cry, I dared not to even shed one single tear, for I knew that if I did, it would make my Father hit harder and faster, telling me the whole time that I was weak and needed to be taught discipline for my lack of wanting to follow the rules. I did follow the rules though, but I would never say that to my Father, for I knew that would only enhance his anger upon me. As I felt the strap leave my body, I braced myself for another strike, but when I felt nothing I opened one of my eyes slightly and peered back at my Father, who was not looking at me but the door that stood ajar. Apparently my younger sister had been awakened from the sounds of the belt scraping my back, as she stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with terror, and her mouth agape. I could tell that when she finally closed her mouth, that she was biting her tongue and trying to hold back her tears. When my Father came around from his frozen state, he whirled at my sister, grabbing her arm he lead her back into her room, where he slammed the door, but it did not shut all the way, and I could hear everything that was said. He told my sister to forget what she had seen and to never utter a word about it to anyone, and if she didn’t there would be hell to pay. After that, my Father must have forgotten about me, for when he stepped from her room he walked to his own room and shut the door. I closed my door and against the wall and slowly slid down it, leaning the side of my head against the wall. My breath suddenly caught in my throat as I heard a muffled weeping sound from the other side of the wall. My sister was crying for me, after all the pain and torture she put me through over the years, there she was crying for me. At first I was saddened by this though of hearing my sister weep, but then I started picturing her face, her sweet intoxicating face, and my hatred of her started all over again. At first I tried to completely block out the world around me. Yet as I did so, my emotions became stronger and my feelings deeper. I spoke to no one, and when, or if, I did only three words would come from my mouth, “Leave me be,” I would say. I hardly slept. For when I did my mind was taken over by even darker thoughts. Of pain and misery, of demons, plaguing his mind. I was bound and chained to my every emotion. Once the darkness had taken over me, there was no longer a light for me to run to. It had been taken away from me. Too long had it been taken away, too long. Every night I would cry out for help, for some kind of solitude. Sometimes I would even pray, pray to heavens for mercy. Have mercy on me for I knew I had done wrong. Oh had I done wrong. I had done so many terrible things that I could feel my heart turning black. A few days later was when I finally decided that it was time, once and for all, to get rid of my sweet baby sister, perhaps even my Father too. Yes, now that I thought about it, it was really my Father that was the one that should be killed and not my sister. But my sister had too much going for her, when, I myself, had absolutely nothing. She would pay for all the years that I had to live in her shadow. I suddenly remembered a time when I had awoken, deep in sweat. I had the dream again. No, it wasn’t a dream; it was a nightmare, a most vicious memory. I breathed deeply trying to calm myself. Rising from my bed, I walked to the bathroom shaking the whole way. When I entered the bathroom I padded across the cool tiled floor. As I reached the mirror I shut his eyes so that he couldn’t see the pale-white-flesh staring back at him. I reached out my trembling hand to open the medicine cabinet that was beside the mirror. My hand poked through all the bottles that set on the shelves, all for different purposes. I pulled out two bottles, one that would ease my nerves and the other for the writhing pain in my head. My hands shook as I opened the lids and took a pill from each. As I lifted the medicine to my lips, my fingers slipped and dropped one of the small pills into the sink. I jolted my hand into the sink and fished for the small item. Not being able to feel it I finally opened my eyes, searching. When I finally found the pill I popped it into my mouth and swallowed it dry. Not being able to advert my gaze anymore, I looked up to the mirror. What I saw looking back at him frightened him almost as much as my nightmare. My eyes were bloodshot and my skin almost looked transparent. I wore deep circles under my eyes and scratches ran along my face. I touched my cheek remembering the bruise that once lay there. My father had given it to me because of my unworthiness. I shook my head from my thoughts and opened my sister’s bedroom door ever so quietly and peered in. She was sleeping peacefully in her bed; her covers were up to her neck, and her pillow so large that it seemed to be smothering her. I looked around the crowded room, taking everything in. Beside her bed was a bookshelf, but unlike mine, it was not old and worn. She had a desk of her own, which had been painted pink, her favorite color, and on it set a small radio, and beside the radio set a stack of papers. On the far edge of the room lay many toys that she had collected over the years. After a few seconds, I walked softly over to her desk, checking every few moments behind me to see if she had awoken or not. As I reached the desk, after what seemed forever, I noticed that the stack of papers were actually drawings she had done. For a young girl that seemed to be made of everything sweet, her drawings were quite frightening. All the drawings were done in marker, they seemed to be pictures of herself, one where she was falling down the stairs, another where she was in the closet, and yet another where she seemed to be leaning up against a tomb of some kind, as I looked more closely, I could see drops of blood upon the page. Tearing my eyes away from the morbid drawings, I turned toward my sister, whom was still asleep in her bed, tucked in tightly underneath the bed sheets. I took one step at a time, moving very slowly and very quietly, to beside her. I was nervous and it seemed that sound of my won heart beat was getting ever louder that I was sure at any moment she would hear it and wake up. She did not though. I stood there for a few moments, just staring down at her, while trying to calm ragged breath. I leaned in to her ever so slightly and readied myself to take her. Just as I had snatched her up, she had awoken and started to writhe and scream beneath my arms. She soon was able to escape from my arms and as she did, she hit the side of the mattress; she and the mattress went tumbling to the floor, her underneath it. I could hear her screams and her begs under the large material, but I did nothing. After several minutes of insufferable welling, the commotion was silenced. I carefully pushed up the mattress and looked underneath to see that my sister was no longer breathing, I did not consider to check her pulse, for I knew that she was indeed dead. I carefully picked her up then and carried her to the closet, and opening the door, I walked in and turned on the small light overhead. I then turned the knob on the door to the secret room and laid her down inside. I came back out and shut the door, and then the closet door and locked it. I walked to her bed and put the mattress back in its proper place, then turned on my heel and strutted out the door, smirking the whole way. I had finally gotten rid of my sister. It was only a few hours later when my Father had arrived home; I could hear him stomping up the stairs and soon enter his room. I waited patently waited while he readied himself for, what he thought would be, a relaxing and peaceful sleep. I did not have to wait very long until the lights had gone off in his room, and when at last, I heard no noise what so ever, I made my move. I made my way ever so slowly into the hallway and towards where my Father rested, it only took me a few seconds to reach the door but it had felt like forever. I very slowly opened the door, just wide enough for one of my eyes to see into the room. My Father had his back turned toward the door and I could hear soft snores floating throughout the room. As I made my way, carefully and slowly, tiptoeing as quietly as I could toward him, I noticed the bed sheets slowly rising, up and down, up and down, as he breathed. I stood there transfixed by sound of his breathing for a few moments before I lost my nerve completely. I was just about to strike! When the faintest noise arose to my ears. At first I thought I was just hearing things, but the noise grew ever louder. It sounded like a thousand hearts beating and then a loud screeching noise hit my ears, the sound was so unbearable that clasped my hands to my ears, trying to block out the sound. I looked back over to my Father, convinced that he was awake now, but alas, he slept on. I did not, could not, understand how he could still be sleeping while I stood here trying to block out the most horrendous noise that must have been sent from the devil himself to rip me apart. I started to scratch at my ears to block out the pain, a bit too hard I think, for a drip of blood splattered on my Father’s sheets, that, I am very surprised to say, was the thing that had awoken him, not the sound of nails on a chalk board, but the softest whisper of spilt blood. My Father’s eyes opened suddenly and looked up at me with the most loathing look I had ever seen. He reached his hand out for me, but I quickly backed away and tore from the room as fast as I could. I made it back to my room and had shut the door before he could even step from his bed. I sighed to myself, wearily, and was about to retire to my own bed when I felt that something was different in my room. I felt my hand along the wall gently and pushed up on the switch. Light shone into the room and I saw what made me feel so strange. My walls were covered with the drawings from my sister’s room, the drapery was no longer clean and navy blue, but the deepest shade of blood red, and, if my eyes did not escape me, they seemed to be unraveling like they were being torn to shreds. The noise that I had heard only moments ago, which I had forgotten upon seeing my bedroom, was now growing even louder until it seemed that I was hearing it inside my head. Inside my very bones and soul. I could not understand where this noise was coming from, so I searched my room, looking for any trace of what it could be, ripping everything I owned to pieces, clattering to the floor. As suddenly as the noise had started, it stopped. Thinking that I had gotten rid of the monstrous sound, I started to pick up my things, but just as I was bending over to pick up a book, the noise started again, this time it was coming from the door that attached my room to my beloved little sister’s. I walked ever so slowly to the door and when I reached it, I braced myself, closed my eyes, and slowly turned the knob. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. What I saw left me standing, horrified. There was my little baby sister, standing in front of me; her eyes were bloodshot, like she had not slept for years, and as I looked down I could see that her fingernails looked to be gnawed off, as if she had been scratching at wall, she stood with a slight limp as if she had fallen down the stairs, and her breathing was ragged, like she had been suffocated to death. I stood appalled, not knowing what to do, my sister was supposed to be dead, not standing in front of me now, like nothing had happened to her. My throat went dry and my eyes watery before she spoke. “I told you that you would kill me,” she whispered softly before pushing me backwards and I tumbled down a long staircase.

#harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #my fic #insanity

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anime-alyssa · 5 years ago

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general dameron (poe x reader)

thank you for 100 follows!! as promised, here’s the thing thing i was working on.

look, i’ve got no real good summary for this other than you call poe “general dameron” and he becomes a sexual beast.

———

You were finally happy to have a break. The past few days had been brutal, to say the least. First the confirmed return of the Emperor. Then the massive fleet of Star Destroyers and the fight to the almost death to take them out. And most brutal of all, losing your beloved General Leia Organa. You held her hand as she passed and until she faded into the Force, calling out to her son Ben for the last time in an effort to bring him back to the side he truly belonged on. She never gave up on him and you were almost relieved to see him stepping off the Falcon with Lando and Chewie, stiff as a board and anxiety through the roof, but relieved nonetheless. Her death wasn’t for nothing.

But with all that came slight positives. Leia had made Poe acting General upon her passing, so you now were in a relationship with General Poe Dameron, leader of the Resistance. He immediately made you his highest ranking Commander alongside Rose, Finn his Co-General, and Rey and Ben Commanders. Rey was in charge of training ground fighters and, much to everyones surprise including his own, Poe made Ben the Commander of his legendary Black Squadron.

“Leia believed in you. I should too. Plus, your Han’s son. Gotta be a pretty good pilot.” Poe commented before walking away to attend to something else. It was an adjustment and people were not quick to trust him, but eventually as the core group (you, Poe, Rey, Rose and Finn) all started to more people did. While Poe and Finn were busy doing whatever it was Generals do, you and Rey took a lot of time to make sure that Ben was comfortable, and in an all right mental space. You knew that in his past he had done some bad things, but you just had a feeling that he was all around a nice, caring guy. You liked for everyone in the Resistance to be included and comfortable, and what was something that Poe always said he loved about you the most.

And now you were all sitting around a burning fire at nighttime, drinking some shit whiskey that Ben found buried in the Falcon (“I knew where he hid his stash. Mom despised it.” he had said with a laugh.”). You were all mostly quiet, just more thankful that there was some real peace and quiet after the events of the past few days. Poe had been acting a little strange lately but he still had his arm around you, pulling you close to him and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. The two of you hadn’t been this close in a while and it felt nice. You were content. You had your boyfriend and your band of friends around you all coming together for a moment of peace. It brought you joy to see this around you and finally, you were content.

Except you knew something was bothering Poe. You had no clue what it was, but you had a feeling that at the least Finn knew what it was. Finn was being shifty and Rose and Rey noticed, pointing it out. After he was called out he insisted he was fine and drank some more. You sighed, drinking a little more of what Ben had poured you, finishing it off. It burned as it went down your throat but the warmth that you felt after the fact made you feel good and was helping to take the edge off of your anxiety over what was going on with Poe. You weren’t drunk by any means, but you were feeling the effects of the whiskey, or at least starting too. You sat up straight, catching the attention of Poe.

“Hey Ben, can you give me a little more?” you asked him. He was just about to pick the bottle up when Poe intervened and he stopped, Poe standing and bringing you with him.

“Walk with me, please?” he asked you. You quickly glanced around your group and Rose shrugged her shoulders softly as you nodded back and followed his lead as he lead you away from the rest of the group. The heat of the fire was now wearing off and you were ever so slightly colder from the breeze. He walked quickly and ended up leading you back to what you had made your shared quarters. He opened the door for you and you walked past him and then inside, shutting the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him, slowly going over to him.

“You’re awfully close to Ben.” he said, taking a flask out of his pocket and taking a long sip from there, walking past you to close the curtains around your quarters.

“Well, a little I guess. Rey and I just wanna make sure he’s being treated alright and stuff. He’s a good person.” You said to him, moving to follow him and watch him.

“Seems like a little more than that. You spend more time with him and Rey than you do with me.” Poe said to you, putting his flask down on the table you used to eat on and turning back to face you.

“You aren’t around much either. You need to get us back up and running. I thought the least I could do was help him a little with this.” you said back to him, kicking off your shoes assuming that at this point you weren’t going to be rejoining the group.

“I know, I know.” he said, putting a hand in his hair frustratingly. He paced a bit and you went back to sit on the bed. Was this what was on his mind? That you were getting close to Ben? What was - oh. He was jealous.

“Are you… jealous?” you asked him softly. He snapped his head over to you and said nothing. “You are. Poe…” you said to him, getting up off the bed and walking over to him and putting your arms around him. He sighed as he embraced you back tightly, sitting you on his lap as he took a seat on the chair behind him. “You are the only one I want. I love you, idiot.” you said to him, earning a light chuckle out of him.

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot, sometimes.” he said simply, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I know. You’re my idiot though, General Dameron.” you said, looking up at him now with a smile. Something in him clicked when you called him by his title and suddenly he was bringing his mouth to yours quickly, smashing his lips to yours. His hands traveled down to your ass as he cupped both cheeks in his palms, dancing his tongue over yours as you held back a gasp. You moved your hands to cup both sides of his face as he brought you closer to him than before, if that were possible. As he placed you back down on him you could feel his erection through his pants.

“God I love the way that sounds coming out of your mouth.” he said deeply, bringing his lips to your neck and beginning to bite down and suck.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that, General.” you said back to him as you gasped and moaned as he did so, emitting a moan from his own lips.

“Fuck I have never needed you more.” he groaned against your skin.

“I can arrange that.” you breathed out, moving your hands down to work at his pants quickly. One of his hands left your ass to help him undo them quicker. He was desperate for some relief and you could tell by the way he was acting that he absolutely needed you as soon as he could get you. He was unbelievably hard as you freed him from his pants, pushing them down to his ankles. His cock sprung up and hit his stomach as it was released, earning a grunt from his mouth. He was so, so frustrated and you could tell by the way he was flustered, red in his face and moving quickly to now undo your own pants. He worked quickly, breath hitching and pausing as you took his length in your hand and gently rubbed the at the tip.

“God…” he groaned as you touched him, moving your hand gently up and down his cock to try to relieve some of his pressure. His hands shook as he finished moving your pants down your waist. You stepped off him briefly to step out of them, and he immediately put his hands back down on your hips to sit you back on his lap. “Please, baby, oh god.” he begged you. You smirked as you raised your hips up and stared down at him, smirking. He was so desperate for you he was actually begging, something he didn’t do often. He actually never let you lead because he never acted like this, so this was something you were not going to pass up.

“Look at you… General Dameron, begging me to ride you.” you purred in his ear. His hands squeezed at your hips as he held back a groan and as you resisted him trying to move you down on him.

“N-n-n-need you, now.” he moaned in your neck. You lined yourself up with his cock, taking the base in your hand as you lowered yourself onto him, letting out a moan yourself as you felt him fill you up, lowering all the way down fitting his whole length in you. It was a little more painful than you had liked, having not done anything before hand to make it easier, but as usual he felt perfect inside of you. Poe’s grip on your hips tightened as he let out a loud moan, feeling your tight cunt around his cock. He threw his head back as the feelings took over him. “God…” he moaned out, spreading his legs and sticking them out, giving you an easier time and way to position yourself.

Slowly you started to rock your hips against him. The chair creaked under you, but you didn’t care and neither did he. All he wanted was you, and he didn’t care what happened until it was over. The entire base could explode and it wouldn’t matter to either of you right now. The only thing that mattered right now was you riding him. You kept your pace slow and steady to start out with, watching Poe hang his head back in absolute bliss at the feeling. He was breathing your name out every chance he got, pleasure consuming his body. He sure was a sight to behold right now, which helped your heat start to flame up even more.

Poe’s hands that were on your hips started to rock you faster. He was growing impatient and it was finally starting to show. Instead of protesting you brought your lips down to meet his, opening your mouth so his tongue could enter and explore your mouth. As he did that you granted him his wish and started to move your hips faster against him, almost entirely letting him fall out of you before slamming yourself back on against him. One of his hands left its near death-grip on your hips and went to the back of your neck, deepening your kiss and tangling his hand in your hair. He had to be close - he was growing antsy. Poe needed a release and he needed it soon.

Meanwhile, your orgasm was building up inside of you. You were starting to sweat as the heat was starting to get to you. Sweat was starting to form on your forehead and was dripping onto his - but he didn’t care. As you slammed your hips down onto his you finally started to cry out as much as he was, the moans of you both echoing off the walls of the room. His muscles began to tense up around you and he lost all his patience and started bucking his hips up to meet yours, making your body tremble from the pleasure of your movements and then him trying to match them to get himself off. It was your turn to fall limp in his arms, moving your hips but the rest of your body dangling on him. The heat was almost painful building up inside of you, like an elastic getting ready to snap after stretching it out too long. You felt it creeping up on you. You started to move your hips faster, sloppily, nearly screaming when he brought his thumb down from your neck to gently start circling your clit.

“P-p-Poe oh my god - please, G-g-general Damero-oh!” you cried out as your hips both met one last time, the force of Poe’s nearly knocking the breath out of you, as your orgasm shook your body. You arched up was you felt your cunt tighten around his still moving cock, screaming his name into his neck as the elastic inside of you finally broke, pleasure sweeping of your body like fire after being ignited by gasoline.

“Fuck, shit, fuck!” Poe cursed as his cock spilled inside of you, burying himself deep in you. His arms went around your body as he tightened around you, bringing you close to him, sweat pouring off his forehead. You were still coming down from your high when you could feel his cock twitch inside of you. He moaned and grunted through the whole thing, finally panting as you laid your head on his shoulder.

He kept you close as he pulled out of you, picking you up with him as he stood up, collapsing the two of you onto the bed. He took the rest of your clothes off your body and you got into bed, in the arms of your general.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #myshit

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