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resurgentclass-stardestroyer · 2 months ago

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Okay I'm going to show myself for the obsessive little freak that I am and just highlight the juicy Hux moments in Chapter 6 of the TLJ novelization, because there's so much good stuff

First sentence:

As the turbolift doors shut, General Hux tugged at the cuffs of his uniform, even though he knew they were perfect.

Off the bat — I just love his nervous, fidgeting little hands. He's constantly rubbing his hands together when he's agitated in the movies. It's his Thing. And nervously tugging on his cuffs in the elevator is a perfect image.

He tried not to think how long it had been since Supreme Leader Snoke had summoned him to his throne room aboard the enormous warship known as the Supremacy.

Snoke apparently hasn't summoned Hux for a personal audience in some time, and that makes Hux nervous. Why? I think it could be either that Snoke's presence and the throne room itself makes Hux nervous, or that maybe Hux is reflecting on the fact that he hasn't been in Snoke's favor lately, or both.

Its designers had anointed [Supremacy] the first of the galaxy's Mega-class Star Destroyers, but such a classification struck Hux as essentially meaningless. True, the Supremacy could deliver the destructive power of a full fleet. But that was a decidedly narrow perspective from which to assess its capabilities. Within the armored hull were production lines churning out everything from stormtrooper armor to Star Destroyers [...] The Supremacy's industrial capacity outstripped that of entire star systems [...]

Hux seems to care much less about the offensive capabilities of Supremacy than its immense industrial and technological capabilities. Which is quite interesting, for The General of an aggressively militaristic regime.

But until that promise was fulfilled, the First Order's capital would be mobile. It would be the Supremacy. It was a strategy that Hux had helped formulate. The Supremacy couldn't be cut off from its supply lines, as it carried them with it.

Hux helped to formulate the concept of a mobile starship headquarters for the FO — a little glimpse into how central Hux was to the development of the FO, despite how Snoke dismisses him. Again, Hux was mostly focused on the industrial advantages.

And the name of Armitage Hux would be remembered, too— of that he was certain. It would be exalted as the builder of the First Order's armies, architect of its technological revolution, and the executioner of the New Republic. And, very soon, the destroyer of the Resistance. For which he would earn another reward, Hux mused. Commander of the Supremacy would be an excellent title... surpassed only by that of Supreme Leader Hux.

Big surprise, Hux is a bit obsessed being remembered forever [which I always think carries some interesting undertones, considering he gets the name from his father]. He also wants to be the commander of Supremacy, if not the Supreme Leader. [I am once again feeling skeptical about the actual weight of destroying the Resistance. It still seems to me that wiping multiple planets and billions of people from the galaxy, the FO's powerful political rival, is a more impressive accomplishment than destroying a relatively small fringe military rival. but alas.] [I believe the whole 'Hux wants to be Grand Marshal' thing was introduced in TLJ, which is something I really like, but they don't mention it here...]

The door opened and Hux stepped into that domain, one of the few beings ever accorded the privilege of seeing Snoke in the flesh.

Hux is one of the very few people to ever see Snoke in person.

Hux knew the Force was real -- his body still ached from being slammed to the deck of the Finalizer. But such sorcery was a last dying echo of ancient history, unreliable and unpredictable where technological prowess delivered certainty [...] There was just Snoke, and his loathsome creature Kylo Ren.

I just love Hux referring to the Force as sorcery so much. He acknowledges its existence and its power, but he thinks it ridiculous and primitive; Hux values the certainty, stability, efficiency, and order technology delivers, over the capriciousness of sorcery.

And Skywalker, whom Snoke and Ren had hunted so avidly, at the expense of much else that needed doing.

!!! I'm reading the novels out of order, so maybe this was harped on in TFA too, but — clear confirmation that Hux was miffed with Snoke's hunt for Skywalker, thought it a waste of FO time and resources, which I think is so important. Hux may have taken Snoke's orders without question, and even defended them when Kylo wanted his own way, but he was still critical of them. It's likely that this has been a point of contention between them since at least the Order became aware of the map, if not longer.

Hux's shoulders tensed at the icy anger in [Snoke's] voice. He forced himself to remain impassive. If Snoke had wanted to kill him, he would have done it aboard the Finalizer, where Hux's demise would have served as an object lesson to others. He would't have wasted time by summoning him here to do away with him in secret. "You say you can track the Resistance fleet even after its escape to hyperspace -- something no military force in galactic history has been able to do," Snoke said, and Hux relaxed. Now the Supreme Leader was in Hux's arena.

Hux is a bit afraid of Snoke [and check that automatic fear response], well aware that Snoke could strike him down at any moment of Snoke's choosing. But he's very calculating about others' intentions and motivations. I love how he quickly puts together that Snoke won't kill him here, that Snoke would've killed him earlier as a demonstration if he wanted him dead.

Love how he relaxes and becomes confident when the topic turns over to Hux's interests. He's at least secure in the superiority of his expertise in the this area over Snoke.

"So your solution to this ancient problem is no conceptual breakthrough," Snoke said. "Your invention is a product not of genius, but brute force." "Brute force is underrated, Supreme Leader," Hux said with a smile.

"Brute force is underrated" is such an interesting but lovely sentiment coming from Hux, and, I think, accurate. He may not be physically brutal and he's much more intellectually focused, but his methods absolutely brutal. The militarism of the Order, and Starkiller, are pictures of 'brute force.' Though, it reminds me of a certain 'loathsome creature'...

Also, 'with a smile'........ cute

As Hux got to his feet, the turbolift opened behind him and Ren stepped into the throne room, face hidden behind his black-and-silver mask. Hux couldn't resist grinning at him. "Hux's new toy appears to be working," Snoke told Ren.

Sorry it's just so funny and kills me that Hux is being such a cunt to Ren when Ren's at his lowest. He can't resist taunting him. Bastard. I love them.

Snoke calling Hux's inventions his 'toys' is pretty dismissive of Hux, and I think revealing of their relationship. But it doesn't seem to bother Hux much, because again this is his 'arena' and he's very confident in his abilities. For apparently being dismissive about them, Snoke puts an awful lot of faith into Hux's 'toys.' It almost comes off as insecure.

Snoke had shepherded the First Order through its years in the galactic wilds, transforming a band of Imperial refugees into a weapon forged to reclaim the galaxy. As such, he would always be remembered. But Hux knew the future would need a different kind of leader--one able to direct the galaxies industries and nurture their innovations, while commanding its citizens' respect. Snoke wasn't that leader. And neither was Ren.

Gah. This is so important. Overwhelmingly important. And-? To me this is like, a glimpse of TFA Hux and Hux as he was meant to be. This is less hysterical hotheaded TLJ Hux. This part mostly speaks for itself and I think plenty has been said by others, I don't have anything unique to add — just that 'while commanding its citizens' respect' is so integral to his character, AND it sounds like it came right out of Sloane's mouth.

One thing about this novel, they really push 'Hux is more interested in industry and technology than military aspects', and honestly I love it. It shows Hux thinking far beyond the war they're engaged in, and shows his intentions — his point isn't galactic militaristic domination for galactic militaristic domination's sake, despite how it appears on the surface. He isn't focused on being a military commander forever. Hux is focused on his future as a leader of a galactic industrial and technological revolution.

I wish they went further in what Hux's plans were in regards to Snoke here. Hux clearly senses his future as the FO's Supreme Leader -- but there's no mention of any plan whatsoever on how he's going to take over. Maybe that's why he failed miserably when Ren declared himself SL :/

#armitage hux #tlj #tlj novelization #meta #my meta #ish #SW book quotes #being normal about Mr. Hux as always #this is why it takes me so fckin long to read anything #text #my text #fave of mine

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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 5 months ago

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First Order Poe Dameron (+ some NSFW) headcanons

General Poe Dameron, the former ace of the Resistance, good guy turned bad guy, doesn't abuse his power like others in his position, he uses logic, patience and psychological warfare with his enemies.

Poe joined the First Order after slowly realizing the Resistance couldn't defeat them, even with all the heroes in it. He experienced the same with the New Republic before joining the Resistance. He knew, especially their lazieness, that's why he joined the Resistance. Now he joined the First Order in hoping to finally bring order.

Poe had spilled every information about the Resistance, and after he heard what he will receive for it, he got greedy and gladly shared the top secret stuff. In return he was promoted to a General and got his own fleet with his own Star Destroyer as Flagship.

Poe will mind probe the prisoners, then either getting them locked up or erasing their minds and dropping them off.

If Poe has you captured, and you were a close friend to him back in the day, he will keep you on his ship. Would offer you joining the First Order. If you refuse, don't think you're free, he will keep you with him, joining or not.

There's a 50/50 chance between having you imprisoned inside a cell and having you with him in his quarters. If it is the latter, there will be a Protocol droid keeping watch on you and Stormtroopers guarding the door.

Poe is mostly still the same as he was in the Resistance, only a bit more strict, demanding and showing little mercy to prisoners.

Poe is now 100% more possessive. Will not let you go, only letting you leave his Star Destroyer with either him or his most loyal Stormtroopers.

Poe will treat you more like a prize, being cocky and demanding with you.

First Order Poe is 100% dom in bed, he has fear kink, glove kink, blaster kink, and size-kink.

In sex, Poe likes teasing you with his fingers, edging you until you can't take it anymore and then overstimulating you with his cock. Though he mostly prefers a straight up fuck.

Now Poe likes your fear, so if you try to escape, and he captures you again, he will punish you with overstimulation and whisper threats into your ear until you're a begging mess.

If you tried escaping and end up surrounded by his Stormtroopers, your wrists cuffed behind your back and on your knees, Poe will get hard at the sight.

But Poe isn't pure evil, no. If you accept joining the First Order, he will actually use his power to protect you and give you everything he couldn't at the time in the Resistance.

Poe will most likely get rid of General Hux because of his incompetence and making the First Order look weak.

He would keep Captain Phasma. He likes the way she leads the troops.

If the Supreme Leader planned another superweapon-construction, Poe will gladly test it.

If you join him he will give you a position as a pilot in his fleet.

Don't worry, he can be sweet if he wants to, he actually prefers it before doing something with you.

Overall he is more demanding, he loves the power he has now.

Poe hates Kylo Ren, he thinks Ren is a whiny man with anger issues, not being worth of being in the First Order.

Poe is a very competent General, he knows the Resistance, making it easier for him to fight them.

Poe has the tendency of taking what he wants and if someone threatens him or won't give him what he wants, he threatens to show up with his fleet and orbital bombard the planet with his ships.

Won't hesistate putting you in your place. In fact he quite likes it when you act up or disobey so he can do it.

#oscar isaac #poe dameron #star wars #dark poe dameron #fo!poe dameron #first order poe dameron

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lilacprose · 3 months ago

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𝚖𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 // 𝚖𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 | 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚟𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary; Darth Vader arrives to a rainy planet in search of Jedi knights. The hunt does not go as swiftly as he hopes and instead becomes haunted by old ghosts and shadows. word count; 2,573 words a/n; Originally posted on ao3, but decided to post it on Tumblr as well. Hope the crowd likes it! content includes; Intense fight scenes, anxiety/panic attacks.

misc; read on ao3 • fic trailer • fic gifet • askbox

I am what remains

Darth Vader’s steps leave a trail of lifeless bodies. This place was a wasteland of a planet that seemed to have rain as its inner core. Mist fogs up his field of vision, and rain droplets tap his helmet. The crescent moon casts a marine shade over him as he treads through humid, foggy terrain. Just merely minutes before, he wiped out an entire village of Jedi hiding in tents and covering themselves from the rain. Jedi campfires flickered in the distance. They took no notice of the Imperial ships that deftly touched ground or when a sudden gust of wind snuffed out their only source of light. He had stood so close to them for a fleeting moment, listening to their breaths and their whispers. It was the wind; it was the rain; it was nothing. There was nothing to worry about—until he activated the breathing mechanism, and they all screamed in darkness. With his lightsaber ignited, he slaughtered every one of them as a sea of stormtroopers emerged from their hiding places and joined him. Fire strobed in the night, flashes of red going through body after body of man, woman, and child. They didn’t stop until the last severed limb fell to the ground. Stormtroopers split up to look for other scattered Jedi. He would usually let them do the rest. He had done what he was made to do. His mere presence on the planet was enough. Word will spread that the Empire is here. They will all try to run, but soon learn that it is useless. Years have gone by, star systems have been overruled until nothing but cataclysmic rubble remained. There is a mark in the universe in the shape of his silhouette, and the sound of his breath resonates in the black emptiness of the galaxy. The legend of the dark lord has come to be more terrifying than the man. He is the name that breathes in fear and exhales demise. Just as it does now. Always has and always will. Here, in the rain, on a planet left to be barren by his cybernetic hand.

His heart pounds in his chest still. It was something he noticed happening more regularly. Fatigue becoming a more frequent occurrence. A racing heart, a heavier head, and a blinding field of vision. He can feel the aging of the body now more than ever. But he can never allow himself to admit that. He raises his chin to gaze higher over the horizon before him so that those thoughts may never reach his head. He listens for the troopers in the distance, blasters firing off. His heart rate starts to slow down, following the steady rhythm of his breathing mechanism. It is the only constant he finds himself leaning on after all these years. The machine grounds him. It is a ticking metronome that keeps him in line with where he needs to go. Always looking forward, never back. A consistent march onwards, onwards, onwards—

Crack.

He halts. Scans the surroundings. Turns around slowly. Somebody is watching, and he knows it, but the data inside his helmet shows no form of life before him. A presence, a crack, in the force. He grazes the top of his lightsaber on his belt and looks behind him. Between trees, far into the horizon where illuminated clouds meet the soil.

A hooded cloak.

A man.

One of them.

He grunts and turns around. The black cloak floats in the air as Vader rushes toward him. His towering stature leaves no room for stealth. Not that stealth is of any priority now. He wants the person to see his helmet reflect the moonlight. He wants to be seen . He wants them to be afraid . They will all know that Darth Vader is coming once they see that sliver of red in the darkness. And he will come forth with no hesitation or mercy.

He’s not far now. The cloak is there, swaying in the distance.

Are you what remains?

His cloak is there, swaying in the distance.

The wind gushes and howls. Or perhaps it is the machine keeping him alive that he hears. He’s not sure and can’t be bothered to tell. The two sounds merge into a long, sustained pulse that rings in his ears. He sees the blue moon reflect in his helmet. He knows that wherever he goes, Vader’s black armored shadow will follow him. Sometimes he stops and doesn’t move – not a single muscle, without a twitch to be seen on his shadowed face – just to taunt him. He stands there, only a few heavy steps away, the hood of his dark robes pulled over his head. Waiting, listening, observing. He knows it will drive Vader to the precipice of madness, charge him to attack. The mechanical breathing grows louder as Vader marches towards him. He crosses his arms, closes his eyes, and reaches into the Force, but he doesn’t have to. Because it doesn’t take a cosmic force for him to know the excruciating pain Vader is in. Each heavy step digs the steel prosthetics deeper and deeper into the charred flesh. There is a dark field surrounding Vader as he moves. Thick and black, like the fuel for a Star Destroyer. He feels it all. The pain, the hurt, the ever-darkening rage. Reflected in his own bones. Remnants of Mustafar.

Obsidian riverbanks flash before his eyes, and for a brief second, his lungs fill with volcanic ash, only to be replaced by the earthy scent of rain just as fast. He tilts his head as he looks at Vader who has stopped yet again. He looks around him as if something were to appear at any given moment.

Not just yet.

There is something that echoes between the trees. Echoes interspersed with the high-pitched noise in his ears. Repeating over and over as Vader starts to walk away from him. The ringing starts to take shape and reverberates in his mind:

Anakin, Anakin, Anakin. Died with the birth of Vader. Left here is only Vader.

If he could he would let out a laugh that would startle the machine.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a quick turn behind a tree, hears how Vader halts, and frantically searches for him. He moves with the grace of a phantom and walks so lightly that no sound is made.

He’s behind him now. Vader’s gloved cybernetics tightly grasp the base of his lightsaber. Glowing red and aiming at air. Vader’s shoulders heave in frustration. He begins to see his own hooded reflection in the back of the helmet the closer he gets to Vader. The scar over his eye burns. A sensation deep in the pit of his stomach. For a second, he doesn’t realize what it is. It’s the wind; it’s the machine; it’s a voice. Something slithers up his leg as it whispers to him. He throws a glance at his leg, seeing nothing but hearing a voice he can’t tell from Vader’s or his own.

Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.

He glances back at his reflection in the helmet, and it dawns on him that it’s the shadow of the dragon that he hears. Crawling up Vader’s arm, digging its claws into his lungs, huffing old words back to his covered ears—

Suddenly, Vader turns around. The red blade points at his neck.

He chuckles.

I will destroy you!

The lightsaber is lifted to the Jedi’s neck, but he doesn’t move. Only a chuckle escapes him. The blade casts a light on his lower face. The man stands before death, yet he is unfazed. His lips don't tremble like the others. Vader moves the blade closer. He reaches deep into the Force to see who the man before him is, but feels only the complete absence of light within him. This isn’t the light energy of the Jedi. It is something far darker.

Still not flinching, the other senses what Vader is doing. He, too, reaches into the depths of the Force. Vader feels his parasitical presence inside his mind. A single image is placed in his central vision.

Padmé.

Vader yells and strikes a blow at him with his lightsaber. The other responds just as fast. His blade emits an eerily familiar shade of maroon. Vader's breath is heavy; the other’s lips are sealed tightly, and his breathing is controlled, almost like he isn't breathing at all. They stand still in mirrored positions. Lightsabers raised and touching, with red sparks falling like the mist around them.

At the same time, they slowly lower their weapons.

Vader keeps a close eye on the other’s hands; the still-ignited blade points towards the ground as his hands move to take down the hood. He drops his cloak on the ground. Rain droplets hitting dark leather sound between his own breaths. There is no other movement, not a flinch—only a mere coldness in his gaze and the traces of a scar across one eye. The longer Vader looks, the more he notices how his eyes slowly turn a deep red.

Still, the other made no movement, as if the rain had frozen him. A furrow grows behind the mask. Surely this is a trick. It must be the fatigue. Imagination. Vader has not seen those robes since...

Since they burned with him.

His hand does something it never does. He trembles, trembles, trembles as the other person slowly starts to walk, forcing him to step back.

And Vader sees it now.

Anakin before him.

You lack conviction

Anakin raises his lightsaber, and the sword clashes with Vader’s. Two maroon blades of equal speed light up the blue night.

Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.

With one hand, Vader strikes Anakin down. Whoever is doing this to him will not have the upper hand. Vader is much stronger than any man; a dead one is nothing to him. A few strikes, and he can already feel his opponent weaken before him. Vader will destroy him.

But with the push of the force, Vader is suddenly thrust several feet back. Wet soil drags between gloved metal fingers. He breathes in as he rises and shrugs his shoulders as he exhales. Runs towards Anakin with a yell and his saber held high in the air.

Anakin’s arm is still extended as he watches Vader get up from the ground. A subconscious flick of the wrist spins the lightsaber in his cybernetic hand. It spins behind his back and in front of him, before it violently crashes into Vader’s. Anakin hammers at Vader’s lightsaber with heavy blows enough to separate cybernetics from flesh. Again and again. Vader fights back–oh, how hard he is trying. He towers over Anakin like he’s already won, but his body is a statue crumbling before him. Every red blow weakens him, sends him closer and closer to the ground.

The base of his lightsaber is grasped tightly with both hands above his helmet.

Vader falls to his knees.

And two lightsabers lower.

Anakin raises his chin and looks down at Vader. Through gritted teeth, he tells him to get up. The grip on Vader’s lightsaber loosens in his hand. He asks him again, but not as quietly as before. He yells with a thunderous tone that shakes the trees around them.

Without hesitation, without mercy, the lightsaber swings and aims for the helmet.

Vader pulls the lightsaber in front of him before Anakin can hit him. It takes too much strength to hold Anakin back. Anakin is dead, Vader chants himself, so why has he now dropped to his knees? Why is he unable to move? Why has the lightsaber nearly fallen out of his hands when it has never done so before? Never in front of the thousands, millions of opponents that had faced him.

It takes a ghost, a shadow swinging his blood-red lightsaber for Vader to lose his balance. A black shadow with the voice of a dead man. Burned to coal by the fires of Mustafar.

But he is here.

He is here now with a body untouched by fire. He sees the faces of a man and a child with age lines and battle scars. A river’s reflection of who he used to be, of who he is, of who he isn’t. Of who he was supposed to be had fire not consumed him.

Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.

Anakin never tires. He keeps his eye on the helmet. Harder, harder. The field of vision becomes broken and black edges form. The suit starts to fail him, bit by bit things start cracking. The metals and the obsidian made to protect him are faulting. His heart races, and the armor adjusts to it in vain. Hot flashes throughout his body and a single horrifying thought takes over his mind.

The suit can’t keep him alive any longer.

With a kick in the stomach, Anakin sends Vader to the ground. Crackling sparks emit from his chest plate. The green and red lights flicker. The breathing mechanism fractured. He lies on his back, his helmet cracked. Body paralyzed. Vader struggles to breathe. His heart pounds in his chest. And there is nothing but quiet. No stormtroopers. No blasters. No wind or rain or rustling trees. The silence sends him spiralling as slow footsteps approach his side. Lightsaber humming; lifting, lifting, lifting above his head. Darkness fills his vision. Only the line of the lightsaber illuminates the void. He shakes his head and all that comes out of him is a panicked no. Over again. No, no, no. This isn’t happening to him. Not to him, not by him.

Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.

Here now, here to end him—

Remains

His eyes flash open. He regulates his breathing. Tries to. Still fractured. Still paralyzed and unable to rise. Where is he now? His field of vision is a haze, unable to make out anything in the room or place he is in. Is this a hallucination inside the Bacta tank, a trick of the water making him see things? Or is he lying there, on a stretcher surrounded by surgical instruments attaching metal to bare flesh. It must be. It hurts . He flinches in an attempt to move away from the needles that sew him together.

He wants out.

He wants away.

He wants to die.

Then – a sudden touch on his knee. A placed hand. He fails to make out a face in the darkness inside the helmet. But the hand, he recognizes. The hand that was once placed on his shoulder. After battle, in assurance.

“It’s all right, Anakin. Breathe. You’re safe now, my friend.”

The voice. It breaks him. The voice crashes over him, and he just... Can't . Can't stop the rapid flow of air through his lungs. Whatever remains of his vocal chords he had became shattered in screams that cut him up inside like crushed glass. And it’s the last thing he feels. Before the tears join the water that submerge him. Water that has him drowning in anaesthesia along with the memories of future and past. Nothing else matters but the present and where he's going.

There he’ll awake, with a clear mind and clear direction. Black cloak drifting over his empire. This is what he wants.

There he’ll stand, atop manmade planets surrounded by explosions of stardust. Breathing in power, exhaling out fear.

Mechanical mind, mechanical body.

#mechanical mind // mechanical body #star wars #hayden christensen #darth vader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker fanfiction #darth vader fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #writing community #writers on tumblr #character study #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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bits-and-babs · 2 years ago

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𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄-𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 — 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐍

↳ summary: A state dinner leaves the Grand Admiral wanting far more than was offered.

↳ pairing: Grand Admiral Thrawn/Mitth'raw'nuruodo x f!Reader

↳ [1.1k] content:18+ MDNI. Oral (f!receiving), masturbation (m), cumshot, general Thrawn power play bullshit, body worship(? In a roundabout way), power imbalance, eloquent Thrawn dialogue because this man knows his way around a thesaurus. - This is a @beskarbabs remaster -- original post date 2021.

thrawn masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

Thrawn’s affinity to art was not contained to that of paint and marble. The Grand Admiral had often lectured you in his admiration of other mediums. From music and holofilm to the violent beauty of war, Thrawn would often regard each ‘piece’ while revealing parts he admired and elements that he didn’t– all while appreciating it for exactly what it was.

You had also recently discovered that Thrawn considered cuisine a form of art. It had come to your attention at a state banquet for the Empire, where you noticed the Grand Admiral scrutinising each singular component of the dishes presented to him before trying it all together. While he never showed his appreciation outwardly, he had a tell- the very slight, barely there uptick in his brow.

Given that he claimed to be satiated, what you hadn’t expected was the food at the banquet leaving him wanting. Thrawn prevented you from returning to the barracks and had instead requested you, a stormtrooper from his elite force, join him in the journey to his study. You didn’t understand why- it’s Thrawn’s Imperial Star Destroyer, safe, on lockdown, and Thrawn is, himself, a master combatant. Only when the durasteel door slides behind you, and he orders with hungry eyes for you to remove your armour, do you realise he doesn’t need protecting at all.

He needs serving.

While you would love to know how Thrawn thinks you taste at this moment, the position and the technique of his tongue between your thighs render you incapable of lifting your head from where it was hanging off of the edge of his curved desk in his office. Instead, you whine softly, thighs pressing into either side of his sharp-edged cheekbones as he curls his tongue around your clit. The bones are so honed that they feel as though they could slit the soft, malleable flesh open, dripping crimson onto his azure cheeks.

Despite the heaviness of your eyelids resulting from the pleasure his tastebuds draw from you, you are sure of his tell– of the twitch of his midnight-blue brow. Thrawn teased your cunt ravenously, tasting every inch of you and relishing in the way you keen for him and spreading your thighs wider for his insatiable mouth. For what had been at least half an hour now, the highest rank of the 7th Imperial Fleet had been on his knees for you, velvety tongue gliding against your clit and devouring all you gave him.

The usually immaculate Grand Admiral did not mind getting his crystal white trousers dirty for a taste of your dripping cunt.

Wailing brokenly, you shift your hips up slightly, clit brushing the tip of the Grand Admiral’s nose as he dips his tongue into your entrance once more. The ends of his fingers grip harshly into the thighs on his shoulders, keeping you in place as you struggle desperately for more. No doubt there would be bruises in the morning, not all that different from his own sky-blue skin. Tears well in your eyes, frustrated beyond belief at his leisurely pace.

It’s only when Thrawn decides it’s time to pick up the pace that he begins to suck at your clit. Your back arches off the table, again unable to hold still as your superior tortures you. Head still tilted back, you’re panting heavily from the intense workout you’d suffered, cheeks hot and sweat clinging to your body. You find yourself wondering if he likes you like this; fucked out and exhausted.

Flicking the tip of his hot, deft tongue across your clit, Thrawn manages to set a pace that has your orgasm building so tight and fast.

“G-Grand Admiral-” You stammer urgently, losing yourself as you thread your fingers through his deep midnight hair, “Thra- Sir, I’m-”

His hands push your thighs wider apart, holding them steady as he rapidly traces your clit, and, oh, it hits you so fast. It surges, the muscles in your lower abdomen pulling up tight, and your back lifts once more as it just rushes through you. It cuts off your hearing- but you swear you are sobbing, cursing at the stars.

You’re exhausted when the afterglow hits, slumped against the desk with fatigue. Thrawn pulls away and sits up, drawing his thumb across his lips. His other palm splays wide across your abdomen, silently telling you to stay in this particular position, which you do gladly. You’re too exhausted to attempt sitting up.

The sound of the zipper of the Grand Admiral’s pants cuts through the singular sound of your heavy breathing, causing you to glance over at him. His hand works underneath the white waistband of his uniform trousers, taking his thick pulsing cock into his palm.

Again, only you pick up on the signs that he feels good. The slight hitch in his breath, the way his shoulders slump and relax. Always wound so tight, always carrying the weight of the 7th Fleet on his shoulders alone- wanting to please the Emperor.

He gives his cock a squeeze, brushing the pad of his thumb across the leaking tip as he lets out a shuddering breath. Those scarlet eyes flick up to take in your thoroughly fucked out state before he begins working his fist.

“I find myself drawn to you this way,” he muses, his steady voice refusing to betray him as he stroked his length from base to tip. You often wondered if he meant to portray himself this way, powerful and unmoving, or if he naturally exudes that aura. So much of your superior was yet still a mystery to you.

“Amongst even the finest pieces in the galaxy, You are by far the most striking creation in here,” he admitted, his voice a little strained despite his best efforts. You’ll take that compliment.

His fist was moving quicker, working just underneath the throbbing head of his cock. You watch him smear precum across his swollen tip as he did, strokes rough now.

Soon, his breath is hitching more, a somewhat violet tinge to his cheeks, which you assume is a form of flush. He’s close. You’d never seen him like this; most of your secret rendezvous quick while he took you from behind. This is a new form of vulnerability- one you felt lucky to witness.

With a few more rough strokes, Thrawn lets out a deep, quiet groan of bliss. His cum paints you, streaking across your chest and abdomen as he continues to pull at his cock. When he’s finished, the white ropes of cum paint the skin of your thighs too.

Unlike most times, Thrawn does not rush to dress. Instead, he holds your waist, thumb brushing the curve of your ribs as he admires you, taking in every inch.

“Yes. Most definitely the finest piece of artwork I have acquired.”

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reigningqueenofwords · 6 months ago

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Different Towns

Word count: 1,493 Request: @fictionalabyss original idea was cute little weechesters on halloween. Dean bringing Sam around trick or treating and trying to make it a good time for him. but for love, can maybe make it that it’s reader seeing him every few years, like maybe her parents move around a lot for other reasons, and every so often, she finds herself in the same town as them, and she has a crush on dean, then meets him as a grown man when shes working a bar or something and admits she’s seen him around since he was a kid and still likes him ?

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Skipping down the street, you were humming happily. At 5 years old, your biggest complaint was not enough sprinkles on your ice cream. You were wearing your favorite pink tutu skirt, white stockings, cowgirl boots, and a white glittery top. Your hair hung over your shoulders in braids.

Your parents weren’t far behind you, so there was no reason for you to be scared. Seeing a little boy that you didn’t recognize, you smiled and waved at him. Your attention was too focused on him that you failed to see the rock that caught your boot.

Down you went. Skinning your knee, dirtying your stockings, and scraping your hands. “Ow, ow, ow!” You sat there, tearing up.

Although your parents were rushing over, it was an older boy that got their first. “Are you okay, princess?” He asked with a small smile.

“It hurts.” You sniffed, showing him where a small pebble was stuck to your palm. Your Y/E/C eyes looked into his green ones.

He made a face. “Yeah, my little brother has that happen a lot.” He told you. Your parents slowed a bit when they saw that he was distracting you. “You’re pretty tough for a girl.” He teased you, earning the meanest glare that your small face could muster. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

Your mother smiled softly, seeing that he was getting anything he could that was stuck to your hands. “Y/N.” You told him.

“Well, Y/N, look at that.” Dean grinned, showing you where the pebble had been. “Be more careful, next time you might not have a brave knight around.” He stood up, helping you as well. “Take care, princess.” He waved, walking off, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Now and then the green eyed knight would cross your mind, but usually it was fleeting. It wasn’t like you’d ever see him again. You’d moved from that town just two weeks after you’d met him, and moved two more times since.

It was nearing Halloween just two years after that. You were dressed up as a princess knight. A costume that worked better in theory. You were determined, however. Holding your father’s hand, you were lead through the neighborhood, going door to door. “Daddy! It’s a stormtrooper!” You grinned up at him, pointing to the boys that were coming down the stairs from the house that you were going to. “And Han Solo!” You squealed.

Han Solo looked at you and grinned. “I love you.” He chuckled.

You gasped. “I know!” You were so excited that he’d spoken to you. “Wait, Dean!” You ran over and hugged him. “I’ve been careful. Don’t worry.”

His eyes went wide. “Holy crap, what are the odds.” He laughed. “Go get your candy, I gotta finish taking my brother around.” His head motioned to the stormtrooper who nodded. “Looks like you don’t need a knight anymore.”

It had been 6 years since you’d fallen on that sidewalk. You were walking home from school one day when you were stopped by a boy that you’d seen in school. He was a well known bully. Being forced to look up at him didn’t phase you. “Awe, little girl all alone?” He smirked, knowing how scared kids were of him.

You gave him a sweet smile. “No, you’re here!” You told him, shrugging.

He raised an eyebrow at you before reaching out to grab your backpack. “Let’s see what you have in here.”

Instantly, your smile fell. Your heel came down on his toes, making him bend over slightly. He was just low enough that you were able to pull your fist back and get him in the mouth. His hand went up, feeling the warm liquid on his hand. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” You snapped, glaring.

Hearing laughter, you turned and saw a couple of boys. “Good hit, princess.” The taller boy grinned. “I doubt he’ll be bothering you again.” He pointed to the bully, who, when you looked, was walking off.

You smiled back at the two boys. “Thanks, but I gotta get home. Bye!” Waving, you ran off down the street to your house.

It wasn’t until dinner that night that you realized that had been Dean earlier. Dean was the only one who’d ever called you princess outside of your family. A small smile formed as you thought about how proud he’d looked.

Standing against the wall near the food court, you were playing some game on your phone. Your friends were all getting drinks, but you’d be leaving soon and didn’t want to waste your money. “Well, hello.” You slowly looked up to see one of the school football players standing there, grinning. “I’ve seen you around school, you’re hot. How’s about you let me take you out?” He suggested, licking his lips.

“No.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Come on.” He pushed, leaning a bit closer. “I know how to show a girl a good time.”

You were about to let him have it when you felt the leather of a jacket on your shoulders. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.” The man smirked at you before looking at the jock. “I suggest you start takin’ no for an answer, buddy.” His smirk had fallen, his jaw was tight, and his voice was low. “Now beat it before I beat you.” He ground out.

Smiling, you bit your lip. “Thanks.” You chuckled, going to turn to him. “He was about to wind up with a sore crotch.” You laughed.

“Oh, he should be thanking me, then!” He laughed. Your eyes couldn’t believe who they were seeing. Once again- it was Dean. “You okay?” Dean asked, worried.

You shook it off, about to say something when your friend tugged your hand. “Your mom’s here!” She told you, making you groan. Without giving you a chance to say goodbye, you were pulled away, glancing over your shoulder at him.

Balancing a tray on your hand, lifted just slightly above your head, you moved through the restaurant that you worked at. Your shift ended in less than an hour, and you were looking forward to it.

After moving around so much as a kid, you were done. You’d been living in this town since you were 19, and when your parents left, you opted to stay. It meant busting your ass, but it was worth it. Making friends was less stressful when you weren’t worried about when you would leave.

Dean hadn’t entered your mind in awhile. You figured it was some childhood crush, although when you were younger you were convinced you loved him. The thought made you chuckle lightly to yourself as you went behind the bar to help the man sitting there.

Setting the tray down, your hands leaned on the edge. You were in a black tank top, jeans, and your black apron hung on your hips. Smiling, you did your usual. “Hey, hun. What can I get you?” You asked sweetly.

When he smiled, his dimples popped like there was no tomorrow. “Uh, two beers. Thanks.” He told you.

“Comin’ right up.” You nodded. Turning, you grabbed two Coronas and popped the lids on both. Turning, you froze. The dimpled hottie had been joined at this point. Dean fucking Winchester.

In a suit.

He smirked at you. “You okay there, princess?” You were standing there, with your mouth hanging open like an idiot.

Finally, you set their beers down and crossed your arms over your chest. A huge grin spread over your face, your head tilting slightly to the right. “Dean.” You chuckled.

“Do I know you?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

You leaned on your elbows on the bar, holding your palm up. “You once told me that I’m pretty tough for a girl. And to be careful, because next time I might not have a knight around.” You told him.

The other man groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve slept your way through here, too.”

Laughing, you went on. “Two years later, you told me you loved me. I said ‘I know’ moments before hugging you. And you told me I didn’t need a knight anymore.”

Sam’s eyebrows went up. “Dude. I was 7!” He looked at his brother. “Wait, I remember that night…” He looked back to you. “That was just in passing, though.”

“Another time, it was ‘good hit, princess’. Didn’t hit me until hours later it was you. You’re the only one outside of my family who ever called me that.” He looked like it sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. “You told me ‘sorry I’m late, princess’, and then told a football player off for me. I didn’t get to thank my knight that day. My mom showed up.”

Dean’s eyes were on the bar before they snapped to you. “Holy shit.” He grinned. “That was all you?!”

You nodded. “That was all me.”

#dean x reader #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester

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clonemedickix · 1 year ago

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Primer, my love, as he wonders what the hell his General is doing … now. (Cause she’s always into something)

OC CT-5609 Captain Primer, first in command of Dragon Company

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Rating: M

Word count: 4k

Pairing: Captain Rex, OC General Lara Lin, OC Primer, Volte and Boost, Clone Force 99, Darth Vader

Warnings: violence, fighting and mortal wounding, grief and angst

Excerpt Summary - Vader and his master released Lara’s greatest enemy from his prison in an attempt to get her killed. Confronted with no other way to stop him, she makes the choice of self sacrifice to save her beloved clones.

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Excerpt beneath the line:

Primer and Boost knew this was a trap, knew they were the bait. It had been too late to send a second transmission to wave them off, and they’d come to realize that the great black entity hiding within their cave was here for Lara. No one else would have been of consequence; the thing wanted her. The two clones heard the comms on the stormtroopers squawk, and the troopers inclined their ears to listen to the shoulder borne receivers. Aircraft approaching, everyone stand ready. Primer and Boost looked at each other and then glanced back at the other clones in the group; they all sensed something was up.

Shortly after, they saw the shapes of the Marauder and the drop ships from Nidhogg coming in, flying right past all of the Imperial ships as blatantly as day. There had been no point in trying to hide their landing; the fleet in orbit had allowed them to land, as these ships in atmosphere were doing. So the clones proceeded to land right in front of everyone, hoping it made a statement of just how much they didn’t care what the Empire thought of them. The doors to the ships opened, and the Dragon Company, the Bad Batch and Rex climbed down from their transports and stood on the beach, taking stock of all that was happening before them. Rex saw Primer and Boost stuck in the very low tech pen in the center of the stormtroopers, with Cut and Suu among them. Something caught Rex’s attention off to the right, and he looked over to see a very tall figure in all black standing in front of a Nu class shuttle, watching them as they disembarked from their crafts. The figure was arresting to the attention; wearing a large black mask full of life support machinery, a chest plate with more medical equipment, a thick padded suit and a black cape to match. He was an imposing figure, and Rex couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

“Rex! Y’all need to get out of here! LEAVE!” Primer shouted suddenly from in the pen. Watching the Man in Black, whom they had learned was called Darth Vader, Primer suddenly felt a wave of panic, knowing that if Rex and Echo were here, Lara was about to show up, and that was what Vader and that thing in the cave were waiting for. He saw Rex’s head snap around having heard him, and saw Rex more or less freeze, uncertain of what to do next, distracted by the figure of Vader, who was staring at Rex as if there were no other clones on the beach.

The ground started to shake, as if the first tremors of an earthquake were starting, and Rex saw the Floston clones all start to group up, nervously. Their wives were crying, almost in a panic, as if they knew something was coming that Rex and the Dragon Company couldn’t see. A dark, massive figure was emerging from the cave. It was cloaked in smoke, completely dark and seemingly made of flame and brimstone. It had smoldering red eyes which stared at the clones balefully as it advanced on their holding pen from the cave entrance. The monster carried a huge sword strapped to its back, and a large whip on its hip. Its steps were like peals of thunder as it approached, the ground shaking with each ponderous stride. Rex looked up at the monstrosity in awe and fear, then horror. The sword, this creature - he’d only heard of one such creature in his life, and that had been from stories Lara had told him of her early life, when she’d been created to defeat Morgoth the Deceiver and his evil lieutenant Sauron. She had always maintained that Sauron was completely destroyed in their final battle, and Morgoth imprisoned for eternity, but there was really only one entity this could be. And if he was here, then Lara was in grave danger.

A piercing cry split the air, a familiar roar, from far behind and over the sea. Primer and Rex both closed their eyes in defeat; Lara had come. The monster stopped and stood tall, searching the skies to find his arch enemy. Baiulus flew in, landing in a rush, his wings still flapping to help stop his forward motion. Lara leapt from his back and ran forward to Rex and the others, her eyes on Morgoth the whole time, a horrible resignation written on her face. Rex looked at her expression and asked “What is that thing, Lara?” Lara gave him only the briefest glance, more of a grimace than anything. She was focused entirely on the smoking, hulking black figure, who stared back at her with an eager look in his red flaming eyes. Light was growing around her, swirling like she was the center of her own storm, the star at the center of a planetary system. Rex saw all the stormtroopers start to retreat from their posts, headed back to their shuttles. They scrambled aboard as if trying to escape the smoky monster as fast as possible, and the ships started taking off quickly. Baiulus roared powerfully, standing tall in challenge to the creature before them. Lara watched the retreating troopers quietly, seeing the form of Vader standing on the loading ramp of one of the shuttles, watching her as they lifted off into the air.

Lara sighed, a sound of disgust and defeat, exhaustion and resignation; she knew only Vader and his puppet master Palpatine could have done this, unleashing this being before her. For it was none other than Morgoth the Deceiver, the veritable demon she was created to guard against, destroy if necessary. He was the most powerful force of evil in the universe ever to exist. Lara wondered for a brief moment if she was enough for this; could she defeat him and remain alive, herself? This battle could very well demand her life, and she felt sure Vader had gone along with this plan in an effort to remove the two most powerful, ancient beings that could stand against himself and his master. Their goal was to destroy her, to let Morgoth destroy her for them.

The beast suddenly spoke from within the dark flames, his voice as evil as his appearance. “The Guardian of the Balance and the Guide of Souls, come to offer me battle. I must thank the Sith who released me by means of their Old Magic. An opportunity to defeat my greatest enemy, and the spawn within you, is simply too good to pass up.” Morgoth laughed richly, as he watched Lara stand tall, seeing the curve of her belly where her child rested within her. “With your death, and the death of the Child of Promise, I will rule supreme over the Universe, and there will be nothing Eru Iluvatar can do to stop me, with his pet daughter defeated. I will end you, and end the line of your man. I will crush these menial beings you love so much and make you watch as I extinguish their light before you.” He laughed again, enjoying his taunting, watching the expressions of disgust and hate play across her face.

Lara sighed tiredly, her hand reaching up for her great sword. Her eyes passed over all the clones quickly, and then settled on Primer. “You need to leave, Primer. Get yourselves to the ships, now.” Lara looked over at Rex and simply gazed at him quietly, saying nothing for a long minute. “Rex, you need to leave as well. Get back on the Marauder, and all of you get out of here. You cannot help me in this fight. Having you here would only be a hindrance.” Her eyes were grave, and it made Rex feel abject panic.

“No, Lara, I’m not leaving you! Absolutely not!” Rex was shaking his head, starting to reach for her, when he saw her glance behind him, looking to Primer and Boost. Volte was standing with them as well, helping herd the rescued clones onto the freighters.

“Primer, you three get Rex off this planet now! Get him to safety, and all of you get out of here! That’s an order!” Lara’s command stopped the three men in their tracks and the force of it made Rex gasp. Lara’s loyal clones paused but a moment, then reached over and grabbed Rex bodily. Lara quickly stepped to Rex and kissed him, then focused on his eyes, wanting to capture their look and color one last time, if indeed this was to be her end. “I love you, Rex, but you have to go.” Her expression was one of pain, a grimace at the excruciating feel of severing one’s soul. She looked and nodded to Primer, and the three Dragons wrestled Rex back to the Marauder, where Echo was standing, also starting grasp the direness of the situation. Echo started to protest along with Rex, and moved to force himself past the Dragon Company clones, intending to fight his way down to Lara. A huge hand grabbed him by the arm and another reached past him to grab Rex. Wrecker had heard Lara’s command, and while he didn’t fully understand why she’d made the order, he knew it wouldn’t help the General for the two men she loved most to get in her way. Rex was screaming Lara’s name, fighting Wrecker’s grip as hard as he could, Wrecker pulling him all the while back to the Marauder’s ship ladder.

Having seen Wrecker secure Rex and Echo, she’d made eye contact with the big clone and nodded to him in thanks, feeling a real, deep love for him in that moment. Faithful Wrecker; her eyes were sad and his full of desperate concern for her, but he did as she had commanded. Primer, Volte and Boost stood beside the Marauder with the Batch and her Dragons backed up to take position on their ships, while Lara turned and strode over to Baiulus. She climbed on the dragon’s great back, and when she settled herself between his shoulders, they saw her drop her head for a moment, steadying her mind and taking a breath. When she let that breath out slowly, the clones all gasped in unison as light spilled from Lara, revealing her true form as the goddess she was. It was like seeing a star suddenly appear in their midst. She was so bright, they could barely see her outline within the pure, blue white light, and the stones of the Silmarils within her crown radiated light like beacons. Lara reached down and patted Baiulus on the neck and said “Okay my friend. It’s time. Show him what you’re made of.” Baiulus shook his head and roared powerfully, drawing himself up a bit like a snake preparing to strike. Bright golden flames suddenly shot from between his great scales, streaking down the line of his body and revealing him to be made of the very flames that burned within his mighty breast. Lara’s men all stared in wonder at both their General and the dragon, unaware that this was who they’d been serving alongside all along - while they’d accepted she was a goddess, here was the living proof of it.

Lara reached up and pulled her great sword over her shoulder, placing her helmet so seldom used on her head with her left hand. Baiulus stood to his full height, spreading his great leathery wings and hauling down with them to generate thrust, pulling himself skyward off the ground. He carried Lara forward, taking the battle to Morgoth. The skies above them filled with dark, threatening storm clouds, and wind started to swirl around them, picking up dust and debris. Lightning crashed, striking the ground with great peals of thunder. The monster stood, his flames and smoke swirling about him, pulling his darkness in as if wearing a heavy cloak. He reached down and pulled the coiled whip off his belt and drew his great sword to match Lara’s move. There would be battle. He was ready.

The dragon surged forward, tucked his wings and darted in towards Morgoth’s face. He spat fire at the monster’s eye, and Lara heard Morgoth roar in anger, as he reached up to swat at them like an annoying fly. Baiulus surged past the monster’s head and banked to come back around; Morgoth let fly with his whip, which broke out into flame. The tip of the angry flail made contact with Lara’s back as Baiulus flew past, and with a cry she fell from her mount’s back. The clones watched in horror as she streaked to the planet’s surface like a meteor.

Lara got back up; holding her great sword in her right hand, she drew her short sword. She would fight Morgoth from the ground. Baiulus could continue to harry him from the air. She could do this. The smoking monster swung his great sword and brought it crashing down on Lara with enough power to cut her in half, but she withstood the blow, crossing her swords above her head to block. She called the power of the Force to her and it seemed as if a glowing dome of light covered her - a small shield against his blows. Morgoth followed the sword strike with a lash of his whip, the lashing tip breaking through the Force’s energy. It struck her ankle and yanked her off her feet. She gave an angry grunt and scrambled back to her feet, working to defend herself with one of her swords. Morgoth spun and kicked her, sending her flying backwards to skid almost fifty feet in the dirt. Lara felt for the smallest moment that she’d had the wind knocked out of her, and she rolled to her side quickly and looked back at her troops. The clones all realized as one - Lara was heavily outmatched. With the cold grip of terror in their hearts, they wondered how she could possibly win this battle? The men suddenly knew paralyzing fear - they could very well be watching the death of their beloved leader, right before their eyes, and of the child within her.

Lara got back up, crouched low and watching the monster above her as it was momentarily distracted by Baiulus’ furious attack. The dragon bit and clawed at Morgoth, ripping large tears in the once beautiful god’s body. The blood that poured down his skin burned like molten fire, and he got in one good swipe at Baiulus, flinging the dragon away from him. Lara had taken that moment to rush Morgoth, trying to get in below his gaze, but he turned back and suddenly rammed his great sword into her gut, a gleaming smile of evil on his dark face. Their eyes met for a long moment, and he laughed into hers, speaking in the ancient language of the Aïnur, that she and her Father Iluvatar might hear: “See this, my Father. I have killed your daughter. I will have the Silmarils, the power of their light shall be darkened for eternity.” He laughed aloud now and suddenly turned his blade, widening the insertion site for maximal damage, then yanked it from her body as she collapsed to her knees, blood flowing from her freely.

It seemed time stood still for a moment. Rex saw Lara turn her eyes to meet his, then Lara looked to Echo, and moved finally to meet Primer’s gaze. She held Primer’s stare for a moment, and internally she screamed to him, “Primer GO! Get everyone off Floston. Baiulus will open the portal for you. I have to destroy this planet to destroy him. There will be nothing left. GO!” Rex watched her in dawning horror. The look on her face - she was about to do something awful. Something permanent and terrible.

Primer screamed an order for all the ships to take off; Rex only vaguely heard the words inside his head because he was staring at Lara so intently. The freighters and LAATs took off, and Primer, Volte and Boost ran to the Marauder, climbing aboard and hauling Rex into the ship’s interior. Primer turned towards the cockpit. “Tech, get this ship off the ground, NOW!” Tech did as told, quickly, hauling back on the collective and gunning the Marauder off the ground. Rex scrambled to the rear gunner’s mount to see Lara’s shrinking form as they pulled away; he saw the massive shape of Baiulus streak past them, heading for higher altitude. The dragon quickly passed the ships and opened a massive portal before them; the Empire’s blockade would not be able to stop them leaving. Rex, Echo, Primer, and Volte sandwiched themselves into the gunner’s mount in time to see Lara turn to look at them one last time.

I can’t win this, Lara thought wearily. But maybe, just maybe I can take him with me. Lara felt her life flash before her eyes with the decision made. She saw the beautiful face of her Elenna, laughing in the sunlight as they streaked along, galloping their horses across the green fields of Rohan, the wind lifting their hair. Battles she’d fought and won, screaming in triumph with her warriors. The moment she’d met Rex, the sight of his warm brown eyes gazing back at her. Laughing with Echo at her desk on Coruscant. Making love to Fives, the feel of his hands on her body. The look on Wrecker’s face in the hallway of Admiral Trench’s ship after she destroyed the droid sentry. Waking up on Nidhogg and seeing Primer’s face above hers. The feel of her child within her; her hand went to her belly for a moment when she realized - she was no longer alone in this life. She was giving up so much, to save the men she loved. Her motley family. It was worth it, all of it.

Lara looked back at the retreating form of the Marauder, tears shining in her eyes. She reversed her great sword in her right hand and brought it to her chest over her heart, bowing her head in farewell. In her heart, through her bond of blood, Lara spoke to her men. “I love you all. Take care of each other. I’ll always be with you, a part of you, and I’ll see you again on the shores of Valinor.”

Rex heard her message within his heart, and registered the shocked looks on Echo and Primer’s faces. They both looked horrified, stunned into a silence that felt like someone had grabbed their hearts and squeezed them into stillness. Rex started to yell back “NOOO! Lara NOOO!!” He started to beg, and plead, and claw at the glass of the ship canopy. He wanted off the ship, he wanted to get back to her. He didn’t care if that meant he fell 20,000 feet to get to her.

Lara watched as the ship continued to climb, seeing that the Imperial ships were also climbing back to space, evacuating the planet. With a weary sigh, Lara took her great sword, and called all of her power to her, all the power within the planet itself, all of the Force - even the power of Vader and Palpatine. She drew it within herself, as if settling a heavy cloak about her body, and Vader watched from a far distance out the windscreen of his ship, feeling his power draining away from within him, as the light surrounding Lara grew into the pure light of a white star, the winds surrounding her so strong that the very air grew alive with static electricity and lighting split the sky, striking around her nearly every second. For the briefest second, the small part of Anakin within Vader welcomed the feeling of his power draining away, hoping there was some chance for the goddess he’d once called a friend.

Lara looked up at Morgoth and took a deep breath to steady herself. She felt a sudden surge of rage and frustration, bitter loss rising up to choke her and she felt the need to scream at the beast before her. She had a flash back to her time spent with the Vikings, the memory of their berserkers and Valkyries giving strength to her fury. Still she pulled power to her, even as she started to speak.

“Lo, there do I see my Father.” She turned away from the retreating form of the Marauder to face the black horror of Morgoth. “Lo, there do I see my Mother and my Sisters and my Brothers!” Lara concentrated, drawing more and more power of the Force to herself. “Lo, there do I see the LINE OF MY PEOPLE, BACK TO THE BEGINNING!” She took two long strides toward the cursed form of her ancient enemy, the enemy of her people and of all creation. “Lo, they do call to me! They bid me take my place among them, in the halls of VALINOR, WHERE THE BRAVE MAY LIVE FOREVER!!!“ A briefly quirky idea crossed her mind like an inappropriately timed giggle - they won’t mind that I adapted the prayer a little, she thought. She raised her eyes to the nightmare of darkness standing before her, his cruel smile taunting her.

Lara swung her great sword in an arc over her head and then brought it down with her short sword, stabbing them with both hands into the earth before her and connecting suddenly to the power of the Force she had gathered as she let out a scream of fury, like a Valkyrie in battle. The light of that power expanded out from her like an exploding nebula, a nuclear blast strong enough to destroy all in its radius. Almost in slow motion the men on the Marauder could see the ground around her, the surface of the planet, and the body of Morgoth in front of her fracture into pieces, his flames and her light mingling then roiling forward in a great parabola of light as the pressure wave of power pulsed forward. Tech saw the shockwave of the blast coming behind them and out of the corner of his eye he registered the massive form of Baiulus swoop over them, opening a portal. He gunned the ship through to save them all, leaving the sight of Lara’s destruction behind in a growing asteroid field where once there was a beautiful planet of paradise. He heard Rex screaming behind him in the back of the ship, saw Omega’s face pale and streaked with tears, and Tech himself started to feel tears spill down his cheeks, his breath struggling to come out in something short of a sob.

“GO BACK!!!” Rex was beside himself screaming. “We have to go back, we have to get her!” He was so desperate he was about to tear the ship apart, and he suddenly moved to the door to open the hatch. He could pressurize his helmet; he could skydive back to her. He wasn’t leaving Lara there. Wrecker watched Rex’s frantic movements through blinding tears; he finally grabbed Rex to stop him from hitting the button to open the Marauder’s hatch. He held Rex in a great bear hug to restrain him, while Rex fought him like a mad man. Primer looked over at Volte with a heartbroken expression and nodded once. Volte pulled a syringe from a case in his pocket and quickly stabbed Rex in the deltoid to sedate him. Rex crumpled in a limp heap on the floor, a look of betrayal on his face aimed at the two Dragons. Volte reached down to check on him quickly, then stood and looked around the room at the faces of the clones. The men were all silent with despair, all crying, trying to grapple with the loss of their beloved General. Primer looked up at Echo, seeing the man’s face was wet with tears; Echo suddenly brought his hand to his face and turned to sit on the floor where he’d been standing, sobbing softly into his glove.

#worksbyclonemedickix #the clone wars fanart #the clone wars fanfiction #starwars fandom #captain rex #OC General Lara Lin #OC Captain Primer #OC CMO Volte #the bad batch #the clone wars #starwars the clone wars #the clone wars fan #starwars fanart #star wars #the clones #myloveforthesemenisnotnormal

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spacelizzbian · 1 year ago

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Ahsoka s1 ep6

Love how they reminded us of the fact that there are "former imperials working at every level in the new republic" ain't no way they're getting back to the normal galaxy this episode? like bro, dw I didn't forget the New Republic kinda sucks 😂

Deadass thought Ahsoka was gonna spill on her world between worlds experience 💀

Hm, Ahsoka seeing Sabine giving the enemy the map as a fault of her own shortcomings as a teacher when it shows that she really was Anakin's padawan.

Urging Sabine to do what's right and putting feelings aside, while being unable to do that herself and fearing what could happen because of it..... this coming after the episode where Anakin's legacy and Ahsoka's unease with it was explored is 😭😭

Though it is throwing me off that she's still saying the same stuff as before her epithany last episode?

I understand it would be too easy if those fears caused by Anakin's betrayal would be healed after one episode and they probably wanna save that moment for a more exciting scene than her and Huyang sitting in the mouth of a space whale. But it'd have been better if Ahsoka showed that she has progressed in this regard?

I cannot believe they did the cheesiest thing and actually had Huyang say the thing.

This show so corny I love it

Pour one out for the Wolfren people, there was a prison on board lmao

God I hope he keeps his promise, he's a more interesting dark sider if he does

Something about them being so far from civilisation is actually creeping me out....

They were in hyperspace for all of the events of last episode, probably longer, that distance between galaxies is incomprehensible.

If anyone gets stranded or hurt they'd be so far away from help, the typical "fleet arrives to the rescue" at the last second can't happen now.

I don't think it's ever sunk in for me how hopeless Ezra must've felt being stranded here

A signal?!? Really??? That was fast lol

You know, for a literal different galaxy, I'd have expected this planet to look funkier.

Even Dathomir looked more mythical than this

I guess I take back all that dreadful pondering about being stranded far from home in a deserted galaxy cause apparantly there are fucking people living here

ok sure

Poor Sabine, not Jedi enough for Huyang, too Jedi for them witches 😔

I swear to god if they show us another iteration of order 66

I don't think I've ever commented on Shin and Baylan's designs but I love how they almost have a game of thrones fantasy knight vibe about them. Makes sense as this convo suggests they seek glory from the past.

Props to Kevin Kiner, the music is stealing Thrawn's intro scene

Wild guess Im throwing out there, Enoch is Ezra but like ... brainwashed as Savage was

Either that or he is deep undercover as one of those stormtroopers, that def sounds like something he'd do

Bro why there so much familiar kind of typical star wars life on this DIFFERENT galaxy?? 💀

OH HE JUST A BIG LIL PUPPER 🥺🥺

Damn, last episode really felt like clone wars in style and this one really feels like rebels lmao

Shin self identifying as a trained Jedi? Interesting.

Her doubting what Baylan is saying?

Oh?

I cannot wait for Baylan "destroy the past" Skoll to face off against Ahsoka "recently started healing from the wounds of the past" Tano again. I can practically feel the emotional culmination of this show and Ahsoka's character concluding

Oh these creatures are gonna get fridged so bad aren't they?

Ah shucks my wild angsty guess disproven so quickly

Tho Ezra just chilling with a bunch of lil creatures is also very him

They can sense Ahsoka approaching in the whale?¿?¿? That sure is convenient for them

Lmaoooooo Morgan is so angry she's like "sOMEONE FUCKIN KILL THIS DAMN WOMAN ALREADY IVE HAD IT

👏 UP 👏 TO 👏 HERE 👏

WITH HER IMMORTAL BS"

Thrawn upon learning Ahsoka's master was Anakin: "oh, psssht, I know what buttons to push, easy"

#ahsoka #sabine wren #ezra bridger #thrawn #shin hati #baylan skoll #ahsoka series spoilers #ahsoka spoilers #ashowka #sw

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how-do-i-turn-this-thing-off · 1 year ago

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The Rebels Last Stand

Chapter LXXVII: Battle of the Third Moon

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To start from Chapter I, go here: https://how-do-i-turn-this-thing-off.tumblr.com/post/169184041771/oh-my-god-you-know-what-i-want-i-want-rey-to-be

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Rey walked into the belly of Ben's flagship trying not to act as overwhelmed as she was beginning to feel. Somehow it helped that everything around her was chaos, since it made her mental jumble feel far less important, especially when she turned around after disembarking to make sure Ammu and Ani got off okay and saw Ben already leaving them, headed toward an officer who stood to one side with several others, a datapad in hand. Finn noticed about the same time she did and turned that way immediately but Rey held back as Ammu stopped so close to her he almost brushed her arm, looking very unsure and very, very small.

“Excuse me,” Rey said, reaching out to one of the red stormtroopers who was passing her. He stopped and looked back, his mask unreadable. “Could you take this child and his... akk dog companion to medical? I'd like him to get checked out.”

“I have no orders concerning the child,” the stormtrooper replied, his voice made mechanical through his helmet's vocoder but still not sounding remotely sympathetic.

“Well can you find someone who can give orders, then?” Rey asked, not feeling particularly patient as she glanced between Ammu and the meeting that was happening just fifty feet away, Ben and Finn both bent over the datapad as the officer spoke rapidly, gesturing to different parts of the screen.

“Only the Supreme Leader can give orders concerning his... guests,” the stormtrooper said, and Rey wondered if he'd have said 'prisoners' in other company. Either way the soldier shrugged her off, going about his business whatever that might be and leaving Rey hesitating as everyone else seemed to also be rushing off to do very important things elsewhere. She shook her head and grabbed Ammu's hand, giving him a quick smile that she hoped was reassuring.

“Come on, Ammu, let's go see what's going on,” she said, tugging him towards Ben. Ani followed, oddly helping her clear a path before her even though he was behind; apparently even on a First Order flagship in the middle of battle, there weren't many who wanted to deliberately get in the way of an akk dog going wherever it wanted to go.

By the time she reached the little group that was her target every expression was grim, and the datapad the officer was holding, traced with red crosses and other insignia, didn't really seem to have that many red crosses at all in comparison to everything else around it.

“Hux is putting up a fight,” Ben said, looking up at Rey. “It's going to be a tight squeeze to get out before he cripples enough of our craft to make retreat impossible.”

“No, Poe won't want to,” Finn said, shaking his head. “I'm telling you if there's a chance--.”

“We won't be able to wipe out the rest of the First Order here, and we don't need to!” Ben exclaimed. “A third of his fleet didn't even show up, he's bleeding support and he knows it! An uncertain battle today isn't preferable to a certain battle tomorrow.”

“You could ask Poe what he thinks?” Rey suggested.

“He isn't responding to comms, the Indomitable has been badly damaged and half its systems aren't operating. The Resistance flagship,” he added in response to Rey's questioning expression. “The Rebels got back in much more quickly than we did, and now I almost wish they hadn't.”

“You can't make this decision on your own!” Finn insisted.

“I'm going to have to,” Ben said, taking the datapad from the officer and keying something in.

“Wait-- R2!” Rey said. “If they took Leia and R2 back with them to the ship, R2 will be with Leia and he has separate comms! Do you have his comms signature on file?”

“Potentially, as a spy frequency,” Ben said, sounding doubtful.

“Try hailing him.”

“If his system doesn't automatically reject a First Order hail, that is,” Ben pointed out, but his fingers were already moving on the datapad again. “We have it,” he said, and then a moment later he frowned. “It's transmitting, but there's a lot of interference from the battle.” A ping sounded, and Ben's eyebrows rose as Rey edged toward him, Ammu still in tow, trying to see the screen. “We have them, I think,” he said. “It's just showing an empty room. R2? Are you receiving?” There was an affirmative series of beeps and whistles, and he frowned. “I don't know why he's sending me this.”

“Here, give it to me,” Finn said with a sigh. “Hey, R2, it's Finn, you there?” Another affirmative whistle, followed by inquiring beeps, just as Rey finally squeezed in close enough to Finn to see the grainy blue-gray footage of what did seem to be just an empty room. “Yeah, Solo's not on screen anymore, he's... gone to get some more blasters or something, I don't know,” Finn lied, glancing at Ben. “Is there anyone in command there?”

“Finn?” someone said on the other end, and the feed went blurry then came back into focus with Poe nearly filling the screen, covered in black soot like someone had tried to blow him up, a cut across his hairline liberally bleeding down a good portion of his face. “Finn, is that you?”

“Poe! Poe, I'm on the Reservoir, we've been trying to hail you.”

“Yeah, comms aren't working,” Poe said, wiping at his eyes. “They hit our bridge while we were still on the way back. We're still firing, but all the rest of our power is diverted to just keeping us in one piece.”

“Solo thinks we should retreat,” Finn said, no longer looking certain about the issue.

“Well if he does he'll be hanging our asses out to dry. We try to go to lightspeed like this, we'll be ripped apart in the first parsec.”

“General Dameron,” Ren said, grabbing the screen and tilting it so his face was in shot again. “Where were you hit exactly?”

“Um, the bridge is wiped, there was a hit in the training quarters, and I think twice in consumables-- R2, what are you doing?!” he demanded as the camera jolted away and Poe went out of sight. A moment later Poe had yanked the camera back to him and R2 was beeping at Poe rapidly and accusingly. “He's not trying to contact Leia!” Poe protested. “Ren, tell R2-D2 you're not trying to contact Leia.”

“I only need to speak to someone in Command, it doesn't matter who,” Ben said impatiently. “General Dameron, if the Reservoir locks you into a holding tractor beam, do you think that will keep you in one piece if we go to lightspeed?”

“Go to lightspeed in a tractor beam?” Poe repeated, looking around for a moment as several alarms went off behind him, then looking back. “Depends, how strong is your tractor array?”

“Three Q-Series arrays, seven Cantwell class,” Ben replied immediately, reaching across the screen to tap something that would project the information he needed. A holo of the Reservoir appeared in the air in front of him, the relevant tech highlighted, and Rey could only stare; back on Jakku she'd been continuously overawed by how titanic and inscrutably complex the Empire's ships had been, but even this bare outline of the Reservoir made everything she'd been scavenging seem almost feeble by comparison. Ben, however, seemed to read it like a manual. “The largest Q-Series array is at the rear of the ship,” he narrated to Poe, enhancing and selecting that portion of the holo through the screen. “If you can maneuver the Scythe at least that far, we can redirect enough power to hold you stable even if we go to full lightspeed on our Class 2 hyperdrives.”

Poe considered, looking away from the screen for a moment; there was the sound of voices from behind him, and he seemed to watch something absentmindedly. “It's a risk,” he said, looking back. “If you're wrong, just the jump will drag us out of the beam and destroy us.”

“If I'm right, Hux can't follow,” Ben pointed out, his voice steady, calm. “Not with as many ships as he's brought. Not all of them will be able to make a Class 2 jump and he won't risk leaving dignitaries stranded if he wants to shore up his support.”

Poe sighed, hard, then nodded. “Alright, but if that's the case I'll tell my light craft to dock in the Reservoir. If the Scythe doesn't make it, at least they will.”

“Then you should put someone from Command on any light craft you still have to spare,” Ben replied evenly. “In case.”

“Yeah, as if she'd agree to that,” Poe seemed to mutter, then his gaze lit on Finn and unexpectedly, he smiled. “Well, if I go down Finn's in charge,” he said. “How's that? Field promotion.”

“To what rank?” Ben asked, looking surprised for the first time as Finn stared then shook his head for a moment, hard, as if trying to shake off a fever dream.

“Considering how few Rebels will be left if the Scythe goes down, Supreme Leader, he can call himself anything he wants,” Poe said, rummaging around with something on the other end of the screen then his own datapad coming into view. “He can call himself God-Finn the Magnificent, for all I care. I'll send out the orders now, through R2-D2's comms; if you can boost the signal, we'd appreciate.”

Ben nodded. “Force be with you, General.”

“Yeah, it better be,” Poe muttered, ending the transition. Ben started giving orders immediately to his nearest officers as Finn turned away, looking around like he was hoping for a place to sit down for a moment, but seeing Rey right there next to him instead.

“God-Finn the Magnificent?” Rey asked, pretending skepticism. “It's a little clunky.”

“Yeah, we'll workshop it, we'll workshop it,” Finn muttered, looking around. “Guess I should be here when the Rebels get in. Welcoming party, or something. Just so they don't land in a sea of stormtroopers. What do you say, kid?” he asked, looking down at Ammu, still holding Rey's hand. “You can be my first officer for now, if you play your cards right.”

“No, thank you,” Ammu said, looking tired.

“Well, maybe not right this moment,” Finn said, glancing between Ammu and Ani. “First in the akk dog cavalry might be more your style. Anyway, let's go find somewhere to sit that's out of the way, okay? I need the break.” Ammu shrugged and nodded to that, but Rey still had a little trouble sliding his hand out of hers, even as she was mouthing 'thank you' to Finn over his head. Finn raised his eyebrows, pointing between him and her and mouthing 'you owe me' as he put a hand around Ammu's shoulders and led him away.

“Rey,” Ben said just behind her, and she turned around to see him with a helmet in his hands. “Poe's going to have to bring the Scythe the long way round to line it up right. He needs the light craft to clear a path for him, and I could use someone fresh out there.”

“Oh-- I've never flown a TIE before,” Rey said hesitantly, taking the helmet from him and feeling a little foolish that at the sound of her name she'd hoped for rather more than a First Order pilot's helmet.

“If you can fly a bucket like the Millennium Falcon, you can fly a TIE,” Ben said firmly. “Same basic principles. But I can't go myself.”

“Right, of course,” Rey agreed, turning the helmet around in her head and starting to put it on. Ben put out a hand to stop her and she glanced up, about to ask if she was putting the helmet on wrong somehow, but by then his other hand had come up to touch her just under the chin and he'd bent down to kiss her on the lips. It was a momentary kiss- a fraction of a moment, really- but she melted into it, and into him. They broke apart a million years too soon, and Ben took both hands away.

“Buy us some time,” he said, then turned back to his officers and was immediately surrounded. By the time Rey had the helmet on and thought to look around for where the TIE fighters might actually be, he was gone.

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My Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/how_do_i_turn_this_thing_off

My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/how_do_i_turn_this_thing_off

#trls #the rebels last stand #star wars #reylo #rey #reyben #ben solo #kylo ren #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 author #ao3 writer

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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Cabur - Rogue, Chapter 6| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A few weeks have passed and after landing on a small planet to collect a bounty, you and Mando decide to take a little trip to the market to stock up on some things. Nothing will come up here.. right?

Warnings: Angsty angsty annnnngst, (Sorry, I don’t mean to be so horrible to dear reader), Swearing (mild), brief mentions of death, touching on the same things as chapter 4 but not as heavy but I’ll still add the trigger warnings ♥︎ These chapters will get lighter, I promise,

Not beta read, I wanted to get this one out because I love it so apologies for any mistakes, I’ll be going in to edit a little later

Trigger warnings: Anxiety, horrible thoughts/insults, triggering comments maybe, thoughts of not being able to cope.

Words: About 6210

AN: Okay, okay, so, I was listening to my Rogue playlist on Spotify (link coming soon) and a certain song came on that just fuelled this chapter. SO, I highly recommend listening to Leave A Light On by Tom Walker if you want the vibes for this chapter. Just… honestly, please do it (I may have had tears)

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss

Mando’a translation: Cabur - Protector or Guardian

A few weeks had passed since that night you saved the Mandalorian’s life, since he threw away the bounty puck to keep you safe.

You’d stayed that night grounded, and then when Mando was able to get up in the morning, he flew you off of that dump of a planet.

He didn’t ask anymore but how you had managed to save him. Whether he knew you were lying or not, he hadn’t pushed it, choosing instead to respect you. Kind of like how you respected him and his Creed.

You’d fallen into a sort of routine around the Razor Crest, without either of you realising it. Mando would fly the ship, and you could be found seeing to Grogu and Duru, or tidying things up. Sometimes you would clean the weapons in the cabinet, making sure they stayed in pristine condition.

Now and then, Mando would head out to get a bounty and when he got back, he would let you help patch him up. You never saw his bare skin, respected that. You would look away or close your eyes, pointing out the best things to use or how to administer them. The man was good at first aid, but his answer to everything was to shove the cauteriser on it. So, when you had been passing through some shops one day, you had stocked up on medical supplies, even found a shop selling the same herbs and plants that your mother had taught you about.

You’d even been on a few of the hunts with him.

Of course, you had argued first. When you’d asked him about it one day on the way out of Nevarro, Mando had simply said no.

Which had immediately riled you. You were not a girl who liked that word. You despised that word.

Which is how you’d spent the whole night and next two days bickering, over the question of your safety. When he lost that front, (“Seriously, Mando? I’m a fugitive. And after all, I’ve got a big, strong Mandalorian to protect me”) the Mandalorian had moved on to your lack of thinking before throwing yourself into the firefight.

He lost that one too.

(“Says the man who stole back a child surrounded by Stormtroopers.”

“You’re not coming. End of.”

“Did you want me to bring your pulse rifle over?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“You’re right. Pulse rifle and an extra blaster.”

“I hate you, you know that?”

“Sure you do, Lori. I’ll see you at the ramp.”)

That nickname had slipped out by accident, and he’d regarded you, for a long time. He’d gone still, and you almost swore you heard a hitch of breath through his helmet and then he just nodded and murmured softly, “See you down there.”

There had been a lot of little moments like that but they were so fleeting that you were almost convinced you’d imagined it. You were imagining a lot of things lately.

Sometimes, when you were walking through forests or towns, you thought you spotted something lingering at the edges of your vision.

A tall figure, cloaked in a hood that was embroidered in either silver or gold, depending on the light.

You’d even asked Mando about it a few times, but he hadn’t seen anything so you simply put it down to a trick of the light or sleeplessness, nightmares still plaguing you now and then.

Regardless of the nightmares and your vision playing tricks on you, you were doing… okay. You were warm, safe, had a comfy place to sleep. You had things to keep you busy, things that weren’t hunting for food or a good spot to hunker down in for the night.

Duru was happy too, having become fast friends with Grogu and the two of them ran rings around you and the Mandalorian. Well, mainly Mando, which you found hilarious because he was such an exasperated dad with them both.

It was a rare reprieve from your life, letting you slow down and… live. Rather than survive.

“I do not talk in my sleep.”

“Yes, you do!! Sometimes, I think you’re awake but you’re just having a fully-fledged conversation with your blanket.”

“Oh, shut up. I know I don’t talk in my sleep, tin can. You were probably just having dreams about me again.” You examined the fruit in front of you, then handed over a few credits to the kind vendor, slipping the fruit in your bag.

The sound of fabric hitting the floor sounded from behind you, and you turned to see that the Mandalorian had dropped the bag you’d made him carry. “I do NOT have dreams about you!” He stooped to pick up the bag, then rose to see you standing with your hands on your hips, eyebrow raised and that damn smirk on your lips.

“Mmhm, is that why you always have to pull something over your lap when I wake you up?”

He stared at you, and you had the very correct feeling that he was looking at you in mild shock, too caught out to come up with his usual cocky response. “I -you.. That’s completely..”

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes at him and then dropping him a wink, “Come get me when you’ve thought of a response, Lori.” You turned and carried on walking through the market.

The two of you had stopped off on a nearby trading planet, to gather supplies. Mando had recently secured a bounty with your help and it had paid well, giving you enough extra credits to stock up and treat yourselves. Grogu was already half-way through a packet of blue macarons, which would no doubt come back to bite you both later when he was pelting through the ship whilst you tried to catch him. And it would be your fault because you had taken one look at those big ears and eyes, determined not to break but when the little womp rat had cooed at you… Of course, he had gotten his own way.

It felt good, to wander a market and not be scrounging for things under the cover of a hooded cloak. You still had one on, you couldn’t bear to part with this item, the most beautiful piece of clothing you had ever had. You just didn’t have the hood up disguising you.

A gift, from Mando.

The first time you went out with him after the puck was destroyed, Mandalorian had insisted you wear yours. However, it had been covered in his blood from his injury, and you couldn’t get it out, no matter how hard you had tried. It hadn’t bothered you that much, though you were.. not sad as such, but it felt a little strange because it had been one of your few possessions for so long. But, maybe it was a symbol. That things had changed, and that was in the past.

A couple of days later, you had just walked into the cockpit when you noticed there was a package on your seat. When you picked it up, it was squishy, bound in a sort of thick papery material and tied with a length of string.

You’d glanced at the Mandalorian, who was watching you, the picture of calm but his hands had been fiddling with something on his belt, a shockingly nervous gesture you weren’t used to.

That simple, uncertain gesture had risen your pulse and you unwrapped the package, trying not to show how your hands were shaking at the first gift you’d received since being a child.

A gift from the Mandalorian.

Pulling away the paper had revealed a mass of fabric, a blue so deep it was almost the same colour as the night sky. You’d lifted it out and it had unfolded and revealed itself to be a new cloak. The material was soft, thick enough to keep out a biting chill. You’d made a noise of awe and surprise, but had immediately fallen in love with it, pulling it on. It fell to about the middle of your calves and secured at the base of your neck with a small silver clasp.

The inside was lined with a thin layer of heat-reflective material, and when you’d run a hand over it, Mando had finally broken his silence, “I noticed you were always cold, even if you had layers on so I.. wanted to make sure you weren’t cold anymore..”

You swore you could almost feel the heat creeping up his neck, and that softened you. He was nervous about giving you this cloak, like he didn’t know how you would take it.

You had smiled at him, a soft smile that made your eyes glitter like the surrounding stars and placed a hand on his knee lightly, “Thank you, Lori. I adore it, I truly do.” Then you’d spent the next minutes admiring it, putting the hood up and realising it shielded your face in shadow.

So, naturally, you had moved around the cockpit and upper level like a phantom, pretending to be a shadow in the night.

You’d even earned yourself a laugh from the great wall of beskar that was fast becoming your friend. It was only a soft chuckle, just picked up by the vocoder, but all the same, it had lit something within you.

It still echoed in your ears now.

A few moments later, the Mandalorian was back at your side, Grogu in his little bag and Duru walking next to him. “The point still stands. I thought I might finally get some silence at night, but you talk just as much.” His raspy voice had a softened edge, one of teasing and you might even have heard the hints of a smile playing at his lips.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, “You love it when I talk. I have to talk to you, otherwise I’d be worried you had turned to stone. You’re so quiet sometimes.” You stopped at a stall, admiring the fabrics here – not to buy, just to look at the different things in a place you had never seen before.

The Mandalorian made a soft noise, “No, sweetheart, that’s just called quiet time. You might want to try it sometime.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but something behind Mando caught your eye. Rising up on tiptoe, you peered over his shoulder… but there was nothing there. Weird. You could have sworn you saw someone wearing a hood just… watching you.

You shrugged, assuming you had imagined it like before and then looked back to the man before you, “I can be quiet. I just choose to fill your hours with my wonderful voice.” You flashed him a grin, eyes dancing.

A voice cut across before Mando could talk to you, “You.” It was a snarl, tinged with recognition that wasn’t exactly the most positive. It was bitter, aggressive and almost… pained.

Mando turned quickly, his hand flying toward the blaster on his hip, instinct overriding him. His movement allowed you to see who had just interrupted the conversation.

A lady stood there, with curly magenta hair twisted up into a braid. She had tattoos along her neck, and her eyes were a shocking green. She was breathing quickly, staring at you with such disdain that it made your neck prickle.

How did you know this woman? You’d never been to this planet before.

You blinked, holding up your hands as a surrender gesture, “Uh… I’m sorry but I don’t know you. I think you must have me confused with someone else…”

The lady shook her head fiercely, making the whisps of her hair that had escaped bounce wildly. “No. I do not have you confused. I would know you anywhere.” Her eyes were wild with fury, pinning you to the ground with just a stare.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t know who you are. Maybe you could tell me your name?” You extended a hand, trying to diffuse this situation and help the woman understand that you aren’t who she thinks.

She flinched back from your reach, even though she was still a good few feet away. “How dare you. You don’t even know who I am?” She made a noise of disgust, looking you up and down in such a way that you were surprised the skin didn’t flay from your bones, “Typical. I don’t know why I’m surprised. She was probably just another tool to you, wasn’t she? Another person to use and discard like trash.”

You blinked, your hands dropping to your sides. Your skin began to tighten, your blood turning a little frosty. You looked to the side, seeing a few people start to stop and watch this altercation happen.

The Mandalorian seemed to pick up on this at the same time as you. He turned more toward the lady, his hand still within reach of his blaster, “Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?”

The woman barely even looked at him, “Don’t get involved in this, Mandalorian. You’re just as bad as she is. At least to do what you do, you have to have respect and creed. You have morals, no matter how murky they are.” She jabbed a finger at you, “Unlike this savage monster.”

Your breathing immediately shallowed, getting a little unsteady as she spat out that word, that hateful word that followed you around and hounded at your feet. “I’m sorry? For whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry if it’s hurt you. I didn’t mean it, truly-”

She laughed, a cold and cruel laugh, but her eyes were slowly turning glassy with tears. She took a few steps closer, “You don’t even remember her name, do you? Shall I remind you? Help you distinguish her from your kill list?”

You didn’t fail to notice the way the Mandalorian’s stance shifted. His body tightened and he stood closer, shielding you slightly with one of those ridiculously broad shoulders. He was going on the defensive, feeling the situation start to spiral.

The woman barely spared him another glance, “3 years ago, you showed up on Trask. You stumbled around the market for a few days, bleeding from a wound in your leg and you passed out.”

Realisation was beginning to filter through you. It sparked in your mind and you remembered a dark street and rain, your leg heavy and cumbersome beneath you. It had burned like fire and when you went down, you couldn’t get back up again.

The woman was still talking, “Someone picked you up, took you to their home. My sister. She was there for work, and saw you lying in the street, like some kind of dumped animal. She nursed you back to health, gave you somewhere to stay.” She could see it as it began back to you, “You took her aid, her comfort and then, there was a warning put out in the village. There had been a high-risk fugitive spotted in the village. Anyone with information was to come forward immediately.”

Your hands curled into fists, your chest shuddering as guilt and darkness began to swirl within you, “Stop.”

She chose not to hear your quiet plea, “I was supposed to meet her. But she sent me a comms message. She would meet me, but she would have someone else with her. Someone who she couldn’t tell me over a comms message. Someone in trouble. People said this girl was dangerous, to be handed over with no hesitation but she didn’t see that. No, she said this girl was terrified, that she just wanted to live.” She tilted her head, walking closer again, “But the next day, this special little girl was gone. And then the Imperials came.” Her voice shook, her expression unreadable.

You shook your head mutely, not wanting to hear this, memories flooding your brain.

“Someone had tipped them off that my sister was harbouring a fugitive. They tore through her home, destroyed it and dragged her in for questioning. They demanded she tell them, beat her when she denied it. She never gave it up.”

The woman was right in front of the Mandalorian now, who extended his arm out, ‘That’s close enough.”

Nausea roiled your stomach, and you weren’t sure if you were going to pass out or throw up. There were too many eyes on you, too many people watching as this woman revealed you bit by bit.

The woman lowered her voice, deadly soft and it shook, but carried in the silent square, “My sister was murdered because of you. Because of what you are.”

Mando froze, his head tilting back to look at you slightly. You still hadn’t told him.

She wasn’t done. “They told me a few weeks ago that you’d been captured by a Mandalorian. I wept with relief that day, because I knew the Mandalorian wouldn’t fail. You’d be taken to whoever wanted you, and you would finally repent for every single sin you’ve ever committed. Your life is littered with them. My sister, my beloved sister is dead because of you. A killer. A beast. Your hands are stained red, girl, and they will always be stained red. I admit, I’m disappointed that you slithered into his head with your poison too but you will kill him too and then… You deserve everything that will ever come to you. And more.” The woman was breathing almost as quickly as you, her eyes glinting in sick delight at the pain she was causing you.

My sister is dead because of you.

A beast.

Her words mingled with that seductively dark voice in your mind and you gasped for a breath, knives feeling like they were digging into your lungs. Your eyes darted around, noted the strangers looking at you with horror and that shared disgust. A father pushed his daughter behind his legs as he caught your stare, hissing at you.

A flinch ran down your body and without a second thought, you turned tail and bolted. The sunlight was too bright, obscuring your vision harshly and making you stumble every now and then.

You were distantly aware of a male’s shout, then a harsh thumb and the Mandalorian’s voice snarling, “Stay down.” He stopped to check your pursuer was down and then he was running after you. “Hey, wait.”

You ignored him, boots pounding into the dust as you ran through the market, needing to get out of this place, get away from her and the memories. Where the hell was the ship? It was right here a minute ago. I haven’t gone the wrong way. This is the way we came.

You could still hear Mando behind you, knew he was hot on your heels. “Drop it, Mando.” You led him around people and stalls, knowing if wanted to be in front of you, he would be. He was letting you flee, stopping anyone coming after you.

Dodging around a crate of fruit, you almost sobbed. There it was, the Crest, gleaming in the sunlight. You slowed down as you reached it, stopping a little way away to let the ramp come down, let you inside to sanctuary.

Nothing happened.

Bastard.

You took a breath, trying to get past the tightness in your lungs, “Let me in.”

“No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” His voice was firm, arrogant, in a way like he knew best and you’d listen to him.

~“A killer. A beast. Your hands are stained red.”~

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, staring at the Crest, at where the ramp was tucked in tight. Your heart was pounding, not from the run, but from the realisation that no matter where you went, there would always be someone you had touched with that curse. “No. I’m not telling you anything. I don’t owe you anything.”

He laughed behind you, but it was a cool laugh, nothing humorous in it, “I’m not saying you owe me anything, princess. But some woman just cornered you in the street and spat abuse at you. I thought I would be prying you off of her, not chasing after you.”

A wolf. No. A beast.

You spun round, eyebrow raised, “Because I’m some wild animal that would rather fight than talk my way out of a situation?”

If he had no helmet, you would have seen him blink, “No, I’m not saying that. But, well. You have to admit it, don’t you?”

Something was beginning to prickle up the back of your neck, his words threatening to cut a little close, “Admit what?” Venom laced your tone and you tensed, as if bracing for a punch.

The Mandalorian walked closer, oozing confidence like he somehow knew you better than you knew yourself, “You don’t really think, do you? You never calculate the risks of a fight. You just jump straight in with no regard for your own safety. I mean, when I came for you on Sorgan, anyone smart would have seen a Mandalorian and run.” He wasn’t saying it in an arrogant way, he was saying it as fact. And he was right. A Mandalorian appeared on the street and you turned around and crossed to the other side. You didn’t engage him a fight and flirt with him.

A cold laugh rocked though you and you tilted your head, “Anyone smart? So you’re calling me stupid now? Is that it? Beast or stupid?” You took a few steps closer to him, ignoring the villagers milling around that had started to look, having heard the fight in the centre of the market. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t calculate risks. You think I’ve had time to calculate risks in my life? I don’t have time to sit with my little notepad in my ship and jot down the pro’s and con’s of engaging in battle. I didn’t have the luxury of being trained like you.”

Bitter astonishment filled the Mandalorian’s voice, his own body going rigid, “The luxury of training?! You think I chose to become a Mandalorian? That I woke up one morning and skipped along to Mandalorian school?” His voice rose, the rough rasp turning to stone with every word.

You observed him with a steely gaze, something in you needing to push him away, to protect yourself before he got too close. So, you aimed for what you knew would work, his Creed. Your eyebrows rose, looking him up and down as you leaned your weight on one leg, “You’re telling me you weren’t born with that thing already stuck on your head?” Spiteful sarcasm dripped from your voice and you pointed up at his helmet.

The Mandalorian let out a snarl that no doubt usually sent normal people running. He stalked toward you with predatory grace, a hunter toward his prey. “Don’t you dare.” Like he read in your eyes where you were going with this.

Ugly triumph filtered though you as you stood your ground, not afraid of him, “It’s all the same with you Mandalorians, isn’t it. You have all your training, don your shiny armour and suddenly you’re better than anyone. That helmet goes on, you don’t have to face the consequences of what you’ve done. No one knows who you are, so you don’t need to take the blame.” These words were spiteful, beyond cruel and you hated yourself more and more for each one, but he was starting to get into the cracks, starting to see you. You couldn’t see him die.

Mando was right in front of you now, towering above you with all his broad-shouldered posture, frustration roiling off of him in waves. “You think I don’t feel remorse for what I’ve done?” His voice was so low, barely leashed.

You nearly purred, tasting the promise of a fight, even if it did twist a knife into your heart. “I’ve never seen it.” You tilted your head back to look up at him, letting every ounce of spoilt, cruel brattiness melt into your expression.

A soft growl rumbled through the helmet, so muted you barely heard it in the noises of the market behind him.

Yes. Yes.

And then he relaxed, his shoulders eased and his hands uncurled.

What? No – Disappointment, maybe even shock registered on your expression. You’d been sure, so sure that aiming for his beloved Creed would get him to fight you. Why hadn’t it worked?

Mando shook his head, the sunlight bouncing off of the shiny metal, “No. I’m not doing this with you. You can’t push me away, no matter how hard you try. You don’t mean anything that you just said, I can see it in your eyes.” He pressed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp opened behind you.

He saw you.

That dark beast was starting to awaken, its ears pricking up. You needed to get out of here, away from him, away from this, now. You just shook your head, turning around and walking up the ramp, watching Duru as she ran ahead of you.

Footsteps sounded from behind you as the Mandalorian followed you. He took Grogu from his little pouch, popping him on a cargo crate and Duru immediately jumped up next to him. “Don’t walk away from me. I’m trying to help you, but you keep shutting me out. Why did that woman say those things about you?” His gloved hand enveloped your wrist, his grip not tight or authoritative, but it began to break something in you.

“Let me go, Mando. I mean it.” You let ice creep into your tone, trying to disguise the cracking inside you, the darkness that was beginning to stir and whisper.

And the damn tin can saw it all. Your back was to him, but he still fucking knew, “Please… You know I would never judge you for it, for whatever you did to make her say that.”

Excuse me?

Anger flared through you now, igniting into a blaze and you snarled, “Whatever I did?!” You didn’t give him time to respond, not before you swung around, using his grip on your wrist for leverage. You had spent enough time around him now to become familiar with the plates of his armour, so you knew you aimed correctly when your fist connected with the side of his ribs between the front and back plates.

He grunted, jolting a little but he still didn’t let go. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant-” His voice had softened and, in your rage and hurt, you mistook the pleading tone for a condescending one.

Before he could finish, you punched him again, harder, “Don’t. Don’t try to start spewing excuses at me. I knew perfectly well what you meant. You thought that she had been hurt by me. That I killed her sister with my own hands. Probably slit her throat and bathed in her blood.”

“No, no, I didn’t. If you would just listen to me and stop shouting, please-“

Your foot connected with his shin, making him stumble backwards. You followed after him, “You didn’t even stop to think that maybe, for once, I didn’t actually do anything. But no. Like always, you looked at me and saw the worst. You assumed that I was a monster.” You chopped down at his inner elbow this time, causing him to let go of you in reflex.

Mando tilted his head, his voice coming out sharper this time, “I assumed?” He laughed, the bastard laughed, “What else am I supposed to do, sweetheart? You’ve been on this ship for nearly a month now and I still don’t know anything about you. So yes, I was wrong for assuming, but can you blame me?”

Your eyes flashed and you were on him again, “So it’s my fault that you thought I was a monster? You’d met me for all of two seconds on Sorgan and started whispering in my ear like honey, that death followed me wherever I went. There was a bounty over my head and that’s all you saw.”

Mando went still, his shoulders tightened, and his voice came out lower, “You’re still bringing that up? I told you that you weren’t my bounty anymore.”

Before you could answer him, that velvety voice inside your head started to whisper in your ear, “Oh no, oh my sweet darling. He sees you. The real you. He knows you’re a monster.”

You shook your head sharply, lifted your eyes back to the Mandalorian’s stupid face. Helmet. Visor. Whatever. “I’m not your bounty but you believed that woman. So say it.”

His confusion was palpable, “Say what?”

You took a step forward and your chest butted up against his, “Say it! Say that I’m a monster. A murderer. I kill everything I come near.” You laughed, coldly, the words coming out with your voice but in your head, they were being repeated in that cruel, silken whisper. “You regret it, don’t you? Throwing away my puck. You wish you’d kept it, then you could get rid of me, be free of what I’ve done, why I’m being hunted.” Those steel bands were still wrapped round you, crushing you, swallowing you whole again.

Something broke in him, his composure as the anger rose again and he leaned down to you, “Stop.” The command was a growl and he lifted a finger, pointing at you, “You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

Yes. Yes, fight back, fight me. Tell me what I know I am.

You raised your eyebrows, smirking at his finger and then back up at him but your expression was bitter, “Am I? Why’s that, Mando?” You tilted your head and practically purred, “Tell me.”

The tension in the room was tight, the air almost crackling around you with this outburst of emotion, the threads of your entwined lives pulling taut.

The light bounced off of the plates on his shoulders, betraying his slightly ragged breathing, “You just screamed at me for assuming the worst about you, yet you did just that to me. How can I want to be free of you, when I don’t even know who you are.” He lifted his hands to your shoulders, to try and calm you down, to push you away maybe.

The smirk began to slip from your face, “Does it matter who I am?”

His grip tightened, “Of course it does. Because you’re not a bad person. Let me help you, please. Just tell me something. Anything.” His voice turned pleading, and he lifted a hand from your shoulder, like he was going to cup your cheek.

You’re not a bad person.

Fire blazed within you again, protective and destructive. This was too close. He was getting too close. You had to stop it, now. You had to get away.

You reached up, grabbing his wrist and using the element of surprise to slam him against the wall behind him, pinning his wrist there and then your blade was at his neck, dull light glinting off of it, “Back off. You can’t help me. I’m not some broken doll to add to your ragtag collection.” Your own breathing was ragged, coming in sharp pants as the room started to spin.

The Mandalorian flinched, like you’d hit a nerve and his free hand moved. Bingo.

Yes, you thought, almost begged, Punch me. Fight me, please.

But he didn’t. He just curled his fingers around your wrist and pushed you away, dislodging your knife and knocking you back a few steps. Like you were weak.

You couldn’t do this, he was starting to slip through the cracks that were forming in you. He was looking at you, seeing you. He always had, from the moment you were nothing but hunter and prey, he knew exactly how to get through your intricately woven net of silver-tongued quips and cocky arrogance.

No.

Your voice cracked, echoes of the dark beast’s laughter in your ears “No! Stop pushing me away, stop taking it. Fight me!!” You surged for him again, your hands curling into fists, slamming against the beskar plates again and again.

You didn’t care that it hurt, that it made pain explode across your knuckles.

You liked it, you liked the pain. Deserved that and so much more.

And the Mandalorian… just stood there. He shook his head, just slightly, “No.” He stood there as you hammered your fists against his chest, even when you started to kick him. Just watched as your eyes became glassier, your punches harder but less accurate.

Why wasn’t he fighting you?

Your hazy mind began to overwork, searching for something, anything to provoke him, “Why? You don’t want to fight a girl? Too proud are you?” You slammed your knee into his, pulled at the armour plates, honed your pain and fury into him but he just absorbed it. “You’re as weak as I am, you’re running too. You’re the hypocrite, Mandalorian, not me.” Your words were stilted, made no sense as you spat out words as cruel as you could, just needing to provoke him.

Nothing did. Nothing. There was no noise in the cargo hold but the sounds of the people outside, beeping, the dull thud of your fists, your spiteful words and your own ragged breathing.

And the whispering in your head that had turned into a full-on symphony of bitter taunts and sniping truths. It rose with memories, flashes of your dead parents, the battered bodies of those that had tried to help you, people who had been caught in the cross-hairs of your life. Innocent people that had turned into nothing more than collateral damage.

Blood had started to smear on the beskar, your knuckles splitting open with the repeated impact. You could hear Duru meowing, Grogu gurgling in worry but you didn’t care.

The beast and its army rose, tasting the scent of blood and bringing you visions of the future, of the Mandalorian, dead on the ground. The blood from your fists turned into his own, painting the ground red. Duru, fur soaked in scarlet and Grogu, his tiny little body broken on the floor in a pool.

And above them, you stood, soaked in the blood of these three. Relishing in the pain and torture that you had caused. You could taste their blood.

The room began to spin further, the whispering detonated into a roar and it unleashed a heavy roiling cloud within you. It choked you, squeezed fists around your lungs, clouded your eyes and snuck into your head. It whispered to you, such cruel taunts, sucking out the deepest, most vile thoughts you had about yourself and spat them back out, combined with these visions of the future. It leeched the energy out of you and with a choked sob, your knees gave way.

Duru let out a yowl of concern, springing off of the cargo box.

I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be confident, or strong. I can’t be brave and cocky, I can’t keep throwing myself into every fight, I can’t run anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t-

And then a pair arms caught you.

Mando caught you. He didn’t haul you up against him. He didn’t try and pull you up.

No, he sunk to the floor with you, supporting your weight in his own body, leaning against the wall and letting you collapse against him.

You froze, your body stiffened as he did. This… people didn’t touch you like this. They didn’t put their arms around you unless they were trying to drag you somewhere.

You hadn’t been hugged since you were a child, and yet here you were. The Mandalorian was holding you, but loosely.

Waiting, for your consent. For you to be okay with this.

And as his gloved hand brushed your back, such a tender warmth broke through you, caressed your pain and you couldn’t resist. You sunk into him, the last saps of energy leaving you as tears flooded your cheeks. The armour was hard, digging into you a little bit, but the feeling of just being held was more than enough.

He wrapped his arms around you, coaxing you against his chest. His legs were either side of you, one stretched out on the floor and the other resting up to support your back. Distantly, you were aware of four clawed feet padding over your lap, Duru settling into the space between you and Mando’s arm.

The armour disguised the frantic beating of his heart, your tears and shaking of your body held the trembling of his own hands, but he didn’t mention it. Didn’t mention the fact that this was the first time he had held someone like this that wasn’t the kid… since he was a child himself. He was just as starved of touch as you, even more so because he had no skin-to-skin contact either. He could feel your warmth through the fabric of his clothes that weren’t covered, could feel the weight of you leaning into him.

He didn’t speak, just held you in the dimness of the cargo hold, keeping you together as you fell apart, kept the promise of death away, just as you had done for him.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #reader insert #star wars #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #grogu

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winchesterxxi · 4 years ago

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My Favorite Ghost (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Rating: T (Teen and Up Audiences)

Type: Angst

Summary: What happens when a Resistance fighter gets trapped on Republican grounds and the man in charge of her torture is none other than her ex-husband Poe Dameron, former Leia Organa’s protegée turned First Order Admiral?

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Force-sensitive reader, torture, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, injuries, swearing, death.

A/N: Poe Dameron angst??? oof

MASTERPOST | REQUEST HERE | KO-FI

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The mission couldn’t’ve gone more astray.

It was a simple and easy task for a single person to carry out. Fly below the cruiser, get in, get their coordinates for their next targets and get out. Hand the coordinates over to Holdo, and prevent the StarDestroyer from blazing those planets.

Simple. Until it wasn’t.

It all went astray when a face scanner crossed your path. The blueprints didn’t mention any face scanner on that door. You panicked, trying to get your face to scan and let you in, resorting to fiddling with the wires on the side of the device looking left and right to make sure no one would catch you. Except they did.

4 stormtroopers rounded the corner and, hands full with a small screwdriver and needle-nose pliers, you couldn’t have moved fast enough to reach your blaster before they had pinned you against a wall, face against the cold metal.

Next thing you knew, a dark sac is being put over your head and right after your body is pulled away from the wall, a hard object hits the back of your head and you are knocked out cold.

You don’t know how long it had passed before you regained your senses, eyes struggling to open due to the immense brightness that was aimed at you from a light above.

You scanned around the room as much as your body allowed you to, for you soon enough came to find everything below your neck strapped to a metal platform that stood upright in the middle of the room you were in.

You could spot a few cameras pointed at you, and you could also hear steps and muffled voices outside as well as a distant and low rumble of the ship’s engines – you should be close to the cockpit. Most torture rooms tended to be. That way, the commanders and soldiers don’t need to walk far to deliver information obtained from those captured.

The thoughts in your head didn’t have much more time to run wild as the big double doors in front of you opened and gave way to a silhouette to step into the room before they closed again behind them.

For as much as you forced your eyes to read them, it was practically impossible because of the light pointed directly at your face, coming from above. All you could see was the bottom of their uniform – knee-high dark leather boots and black pants, either a general or an admiral, and the clenched fists in shiny leather gloves - as they stood in front of you, hidden from the light.

“Are we getting this over with anytime soon?” you question bitterly while resting your head back and closing your eyes. You’d be damned if you were going to show any fear to anyone within this ship.

“Although I won’t blame you for just standing there, I know I’m pretty pleasant to look at.” Confidence, fake it until you make it. Or until you piss someone off, which is a better description of what you were aiming at.

“Can’t argue with that.”

Your blood runs cold.

Head snapping back down, facing forward, your jaw tightens and your whole body tenses at the reverberation of those words against the metal walls. And that is when the person you dreaded the most to run into again, in your whole life, steps into your sight.

His eyes meet yours and for a moment you think your mind is deceiving you.

This isn’t him.

Those eyes do not belong to the face in front of you. They aren’t his eyes. His eyes had a constant sparkle in them with the life that bubbled inside of him; they were big, brown, kind and caring.

These are hard, dark and cold. Lifeless.

“Poe.”

Despite his name leaving your lips in something little above a whisper, you know that name no longer refers to him. Not in the way it was engraved in your mind. Poe was your husband, the lively and witty resistance pilot that Leia Organa had assured you were meant for you. And maybe he was. But this isn’t Poe. This is someone – something else.

“It’s Admiral Dameron.”

You grith your teeth together and have to muster all the strength in you to not let your bottom lip quiver at the coldness and lack of emotion in his voice, so distant from that you were used to in the sweet nothings that would reach your ears in the mornings you’d wake up in his arms.

“What do you want?” you ask him, voice tainted with both pain and disgust.

“I could ask you the same thing. You were the one caught in our ground, trying to break a facial recognition system. What exactly were you looking to get?”

“It was outside the navigation system room. Take a wild guess.” Your anger-powered wit met a halt, as a sharp pain ran through your whole body with great intensity.

A pained screamed was let out of your mouth, muscles tensing and thrusting your body forward against the metal boundaries that enveloped your ankles, thighs, wrists, middle and upper torso.

Once the sting stopped, you threw your body back, chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to catch your breath, as Poe circled where you stood.

“Being a smartass won’t get you anywhere.” He taunts from behind you.

“Because being honest and cooperative will get me a congratulatory snack after this, right?” you weren’t about to give in, and apparently neither was he as another violent ache ran across your body, this time for a few more seconds longer.

“You really don’t listen to people’s warnings, do you?” he snaps his intimidating eyes at you while coming back around to stand in front of you.

“I had a good teacher.” You manage to jeer through gritted teeth. That gets a reaction out of it. One that would be imperceptible to the common person, unless they had been married and in love with them, so much so that they picked up on every little quirk.

“You do realize you’re not getting out of here alive.” It wasn’t even a question, more so of a statement as his lowered head allowed his eyes to look up at you through his lashes, and your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach at the realization, and you have to blink away the tears that threatened to make an appearance.

“You would do that? Kill me?”

“It’s protocol. Resistance scum dies, either if they deliver a confession or not.”

“You won’t even say my name, but you’re okay with having your hands being the ones that put an end to my life?” he doesn’t answer, breaking the wall he had put up for a fraction of a second when his eyes wander around, away from yours. “And Resistance scum? Wow, your ego really is something.”

“Shut up.”

“The only scum I see here is the one standing in front of me, who betrayed friends and family to save his own ass”

“I SAID SHUT UP.” His left-hand slams against the metal behind you, just a few inches away from your face and you flinch, eyes closing at the sudden movement, the fleeting possibility that he could hit you crossing your mind.

When you open your eyes you see his face just inches away from yours, heavy breathing fanning against your face, his hand still rested next to you.

Your eyes are distant, looking somewhere above his other shoulder as you shift your right hand, as much as the restraints allowed, palm facing upward and fingers spread. Between your faces surges a ring, attached to a silver chain that surrounded your neck.

You bite the inside of your cheek and a single tear spills out of your right eye, his attention remaining on the object floating in front of him.

That is his mother’s wedding ring, or rather, it was, until the day he gently put it around your neck, the day that was now so far behind in time that, together with the present circumstances almost felt like a fever dream. He had insisted that you both didn’t need wedding rings as the simple act of you wearing his necklace, the one everyone knew was destined to rest against the sternum of whoever he’d end up deciding on spending the rest of his life with, was enough.

And you never took it off. Not after he started to seem more distanced. Not when he’d started to snap at you. Not when the fights started. Not when you started to sleep in separate rooms. Not when he turned on you mid-mission and started to shoot at your X-Wing. Not when, moments after that, he turned his X-Wing around, killing a few other Resistance pilots. And not when he flew away, following the First Order fleet.

You never took it off.

Closing your eyes, you relax your hand and let the ring fall back against your chest and Poe pushes his hand off the metal, taking a few steps back. He looked… ill at ease.

“What happened, Poe?” you whisper, voice begging for an answer, his name sounding on your lips for the second time today, the most it’s had in little over a year. And, surprisingly, he doesn’t correct the way you address him.

“There was never a chance of us winning. We were outnumbered, our technology wasn’t as advanced… It was either surrender or joining them.” Something tightens inside of you at the way he used us and them to reference the Resistance and the First Order. He was referring to himself as Resistance. Probably unconscious. You decide against pointing it out or correcting him.

“And you chose to join them.” You slowly nod “Was it all so meaningless to you that you could just turn your back on us?”

“The Resistance will forever be doomed.” He utters bitterly.

“You wanna talk about forever?” you question, eyes red and glazed with how wet they were, and he stares at you.

“THIS –“ you raise your voice and look down, motioning to the ring resting against your flight suit, before looking back up to meet his gaze “WAS FOREVER.”

Your words and the silence that followed hung between the two of you almost as making the air in the room thicker by the second.

“Do you ever even think about me anymore? Or does your every thought revolve around these people?” tears sting your eyes once more and you take a shaky breath in “Every morning when I wake up I still expect to have my cheek resting against your chest, but there’s only a pillow. When I go to Leia I expect you to be standing next to her, planning some sort of strategy. When I fly in my X-Wing I still expect the commlink to crackle with your voice. When I see BB rolling my way, I still look up in hopes of seeing you walk up behind him. I hate you. I hate you so much. I hate you with every fibre of my being. But I also love you in equal measure.”

Poe remains immobile, standing a few feet ahead of you, the device that controls the electric shocks tightly fisted in his left hand and he is looking at you, straight ahead. At this point, you are panting with the effort of mustering out all of those words and feelings through the tears and sobs that rattle your whole body.

“Somehow, after all the shit you’ve done, I still love-”

You don’t manage to finish those words, the second time you’d be uttering them in over a year as they die on your lips and are replaced by a glass-shattering scream of pain, as the sharp burst of electricity travels your body once more during a much more excruciatingly long time. All your muscles tense as much as they can and you forget what breathing feels like.

Once Poe’s thumb slides of the control button, your whole body jerks forward, panting, tears falling to the ground beneath your hovering feet, head down. Despite the rational choice being to shut up you need to say this. You know that he is still there, somewhere, below all that darkness that took hold of him. He is still there. And you need to get him out.

“I still lo-“

Poe’s thumb slides over the button once again, inflicting another piercing wave of torture to your already spent body. Something is, indeed, still in him as this time around he can’t bring himself to look at you and at the way the electricity is slowly but surely bringing you closer to a point of no return. And despite the tears blurring your vision, this fact doesn’t go unnoticed.

After he relieves the pressure on the button, your body no longer jolts forward but instead goes limp against the metal board, the back of your head resting against it, mouth starting to taste like blood, which peeks through the corner of your mouth.

“You won’t even look.” You struggle to get the words out, voice coming out raspy and hurting as it passes through your throat.

“If you’re going to kill me, at least be man enough to look at me when you do it.”

Your whole body is pulsing with aftershocks of pain and you are struggling to keep your eyes open, feeling your eyelids grow heavier. Just when you are about to close your eyes, just to rest them, you told yourself, you hear Poe’s voice for the first time since he told you the Resistance was doomed.

“After all this, do you still love me?” Your brain can’t quite comprehend if by this he means the torture or all the events that you crying about earlier, the ones that led him to join the First Order.

Either way, the answer would be the same.

“Yes.”

Jaw tensing, Poe pushes the button in his fist one more time, watching your body light up with the blue electric jolts that ran your full height up and down, side to side, travelling through each of your limbs eating away at the remaining life in your body. His lips were trembling just the slightest and his eyes, lit with the image in front of him, started to be glazed by tears.

He didn’t let the button go for much longer than he previously had, being completely lost inside his mind and out of it at the realisation that even after all the shit he put you through and the hurt he caused you, you still loved him.

It wasn’t until he stopped seeing you squirm that his finger release the button and your body fell completely limp against the metal, head falling down, the metal loops preventing you from falling forwards completely. He hesitated in stepping closer to you, scared of you moving or rather not, he wasn’t sure.

But his heart gave in to the breaking of itself when the latter possibility turned out to be the truth.

You weren’t moving.

You weren’t breathing.

There was blood dripping from your mouth onto the floor.

You were gone.

And he did it.

A trembling hand of his came up to push your head back against the platform holding you.

That’s when he took a good look at your lifeless face, and a shaky exhale left his lungs.

Oh, how he still loved you.

He wanted to cradle your face in his hands a lay a kiss against your forehead, run his knuckles against your cheek and wipe the blood away from your soft lips.

But they were watching him. The cameras were pointed at him and the microphones were on, preventing him from freely displaying any kind of affection towards you.

Blinking away the tears and trying to keep his body language as much stoic as possible, his gloved hand reaches up for the ring that hung from the chain draped around your neck and he pulled it down, breaking the silver link as it released the hold it had on you.

He slid the ring into the chest pocket of his uniform before walking away, towards the door, and out. Leaving the lifeless body of the only person who could ever allow him redemption behind, limp and broken.

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

TAGLISTS

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@blondekel77 @pedrobreakmyback

POE DAMERON TAGLIST

@niall2017

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

#My Favourite Ghost #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #star wars #angst #poe dameron angst #oscar isaac x reader #FirstOrder!Poe x reader #fo!poe dameron x reader

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lightsaberupmybutt · 4 years ago

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These Violent Delights - Darth Vader x FemReader

Yer idk why I wrote this either. I’m not ashamed though. And if you read this you’re just as bad as I am for writing it. No more said . Enjoy

Word Count: 1377

Warnings : explicit, brief mentions of smut but nothing too heavy, bit angsty, mentions of violence (but if you’re here then I’m sure that doesn’t put you off), kinda out of character (I've tried, but darth isn't a shagger, not canon anyway)

There was not a day that went by when you didn't consider yourself the stupidest bitch on the planet; scratch that the universe

You were aware that what you were doing was so dumb that even you couldn't reason it logically.

Its not like you didn't have options, theres plenty of suitors out there who would be more than happy to take you up on the offer of a night with you.

With this knowledge in mind, you still always fine yourself in the company of possibly the most dangerous man (if you can even call him that) to ever exist.

You wish you'd had the excuse of knowing him before he was vader, wish that you could say your attachment was purely based on your remnant memories from days gone by; but that just wasn't true. You only knew this being, Vader as him dark self - and that was enough for you to always come when he called.

To compare you attachment to a drug addiction felt cliche and incommodious; after all you didn't need his attention to survive, but you still craved it for your own enjoyment

it kept you up at night sometimes - you conscience weary with the fact that the rest of the body it was trapped in responded so positively to the touch of a murderer. These internal battles were common, besides, there wasn't anyone else you could exactly go to to ask advice from. The knowledge of your nightly escapades to Vader quarters was not exactly friendly gossip you could share with your friends, or even your family. It was a clear unspoken rule that secrets of this magnitude that involved the ex jedi were not something he encouraged to be passed around - not that you really wanted your family knowing. They would disown you, you would disown you. You understood just how vile your actions were

so why did they feel so fucking good?

You had been with men before, plenty of men. Maker, some of those men had the bodies of gods, so handsome that anyone would look upon them and believe they were too good for this world. But nothing compared, nothing even came close. It was one thing to enjoy someone, romantically or exclusively sexually , but it was another to be on the same level as someone. And you weren't quite sure why or how, but the only person you had ever felt that for was the destroyer of worlds.

You'd caught his eye while he and a small fleet of his stormtroopers were overseeing the work your village was putting into one of the many imperial excursions.

You'd love to say you hadn't been like everyone else and feared him instantly, that your backbone and feisty nature had meant you had always been able to feel no intimidation by his power - but that would be a big fat lie. The first time you saw him you genuinely thought you might poop your pants right there and then; all black cloak and metal. and then when you notice that he had noticed you too, when he asked your name, you personally accepted that maybe this day would be the day you died.

but it wasn't, and so it began

At first the imbalance of power was obvious, you feared him more than you had ever feared anything before. You'd heard the stories, you knew just how fast he could destroy you and how nobody would intervene even if they could if he decided this way your time to go.

He kept his distance in this time, while somehow also always letting you know he was around. you hear him, his breathing somewhere just beyond your viewpoint. A flash of black out the corner of your eye while you walked through the streets. Just teases of his existence. Just enough to peak your interest.

It worked, he never had to come to you. You came to him.

Because above all else, your curiosity outweighed everything else, even you survival instincts.

It was easy to be drawn in, you found. In everyones brain theres a soft spot for bad people who only act kind to you. That only show vulnerability to just you. You wanted to feel special, and he made you feel like the most protected person in the universe.

It was ironic really, that being that close to death is what made you feel most alive

It wasn't romantic, and you were completely comfortable with that. You had no doubt that you could never bring yourself to love someone who had the capability to do the things this man had done, and Vader, as far as you knew anyway, wasn't programmed with the capacity to love - a relic skill left when Anakin burned into the sand.

Sometimes though, there were flickers of those sorts of affections, like muscle memory. A gloved stroke of your cheek, a sweep across your lips to catch some of himself there, a hand in your hair with more gentle intent than usual. These incidents were at first incredibly fleeting, but the more comfortable you got together, or at least the more time passed since you had first met, he seemed to get more carefree with these displays.

Equally, although you had fully expected to feel the wrath of his power at that very first meeting; Vader had never used the force against you. Well, never without you asking him to anyway - choking with the force may be Vader favourite way to bring his enemies to their demise, but when you asked him to use it on you in the bedroom, he was relatively sure you had completely lost your mind. Be that as it may, it was hot as fuck. However he never took advantage; the power imbalance was certainly there, but Vader never used it against you without you asking him.

And thats how you knew just how comfortable you'd gotten; because you did ask. without even really completely letting yourself realise just what i meant, you asked him to show you just how powerful he was. You fucking liked it, liked that he could remove you from the face of the earth with a flick of his gloved wrist. You liked that he was the strongest being most people could imagine, liked that he was so notoriously bad.

Simply because he didn't; he kept you around. He even liked having you around, not that he would ever admit that to you, himself or anybody.

He never took his mask off, so it was easy for him to hide behind his outfit. He was changing though, maybe not dramatically, but enough for him to notice and be ashamed of.

He hadn't loved since Padme, with her it was obvious. She was beautiful, and smart, and everything Anakin Skywalker could have ever wanted. But he was no longer Anakin. There had never been another love, but you were something different entirely. You made him different . you made him weak. He lusted for you, craved you just as much if not more than you him. Anakin had always had a possessive streak, but Vader had a possessive nature. You were nothing to him, and then you were just fun to him, a body he could use, a rare someone who would let him inside of them with true interest in him, someone who could look past the suit and mask and burns. You belonged to him now, whether either of you wanted it or not, there was no one else for you.

“don't you ever let anyone touch you like this again” - he rarely spoke during sex, but when he did, his moderator was always stating claim to you. There really was no way to convince vader that you wouldn't stray, that you wouldn't suddenly wake up and realise that getting railed once very month on a dark space ship by someone who's face you had never seen wasn't enough for you. That you'd want to be with someone who you could kiss, or someone who didn't have such a dark smear on their title. But it didn't really matter, you knew you wouldn't leave, not when being bad felt so good with him.

#this is so self indulgent #i can only apologise #darth vader #anakin skywalker #darth vader x reader #darth vader x y/n #darth vader imagine #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #wtf is this #Star Wars

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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 10 months ago

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Yandere (dark!)First Order Poe Dameron HC's

Note: If anyone wants a story about this feel free to ask me and I can and happily will do one. <3

Poe had a crush on you at his time in the Resistance, so when he joined the First Order, and became a General, one of his goals was to capture you and keep you by his side.

Would keep you in his quarters, with a protocol droid keeping a watch on you should you try something stupid or try to escape.

Poe became a General and was gifted a Fleet and his own personal Resurgent Star Destroyer as a 'thank you' after he spilled every information about the Resistance he had.

Think you can escape? Well... first you have to get through the droid in his quarters and the Battalions of Stormtroopers roaming his Star Destroyer. Even if you manage to knock one out and steal his armor you still have to make your way out of his ship... Oh, and even if you can fly a certain shuttle or starfighter, if you speak into the comm and state whatever story you came up with to get permission to take off, if Poe hears your voice then you better pray an (un)lucky laser bolt will hit your starfighter. Because once Poe has you back in his quarters, he can and will punish you.

If Poe finds you wandering around in places of his ship where you shouldn't be, he would place a hand on your shoulder, making you freeze in place as you pray it would be just an officer or a Stormtrooper. Would lean down close to your ear and say: "Did my little thing got lost, hm?" his hot breath would cause ice cold shivers to run down your spine in response.

If you actually manage to escape his Star Destroyer unnoticed? If you're lucky and the bridge crew couldn't lock onto your ship fast enough to track you with the hyperspace tracker then you have some time to think what to do. But once Poe discovered you escaped he will be furious, he wants to get his priced little thing back and punish you for your disobedience. And once he has a trace of you? It's over for you.

The reason why Poe betrayed the Resistance was because he was sick of always being on the run, always following the ideology of bringing peace and defeating the First Order. He then realized the First Order would be the fraction to truly bring peace and order to the Galaxy.

Poe in the Resistance was hot-headed, cocky and sometimes even disobedient and stubborn, even ignoring orders from Leia herself. But now that he's loyal to the First Order? Well, now he is quite the opposite, shows a more sadistic side, he's calculating, cold, serious and ruthless.

He enjoys hunting down Rebels and other scum, making them think they have successfully jumped into hyperspace and into a safe space, only for Poe to track them via the First Order's hyperspace tracker and jump out behind them with his Star Destroyer to end their lifes.

You have some friends in the Resistance? Poe is nice enough to keep them alive as long as you keep being obedient and behave yourself. But once you try something funny or try to escape he will threaten to kill them. If you disobey again? He will give you a second chance by nearly killing them, but a third chance? Well, there won't be another chance for your friends...

Poe is still nice, don't get me wrong, he will give you alot of freetime, you can do nearly anything you want when he is on the ship. But when he is flying in his TIE then you will be kept inside his quarters.

If you behave yourself and be obedient then Poe will bring you valuable gifts and trophies after a battle. Those can range from simple jewelry to rare crystals, basically anything with a high value. <3

#poe dameron #star wars #yandere #yandere poe dameron #first order poe dameron #fo!poe dameron #dark!poe dameron #dark poe dameron #first order!poe

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dalekofchaos · 4 years ago

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Killing The New Republic and Luke’s New Jedi Order killed the Sequel Trilogy

Disney you’re a business, who’s all about money, but then you chose to destroy the New Jedi Order and New Republic, that is definitely killing your billions, even after refusing to put storytelling first and foremost, and then having the audacity to claim “we don’t have source material” never mind the countless series of video games, comics, novels, tv shows and films, merchandising etc. Not to mention all the fucking stuff you could’ve done with the NR in BATTLEFRONT! YOU COULD HAVE MADE WITH THE NEW REPUBLIC AND NEW JEDI ORDER!

But no. Instead you made Leia an incompetent general leading an even weaker and an on the budget Rebel Alliance. Han’s character arc was dropped, Han and Leia’s iconic romance was broken up and they were both turned into absent parents and Luke’s Jedi Order failed and 30 years of peace was undone pointlessly. But instead you just wanted Rebels vs Empire 2.0, but only this time around it’s dumber.

Do you know what we could’ve done with The New Republic? Leia as Chancellor. Han and Lando as her Ministers of Defense. Boba Fett, Din Djarin and Bo-Katan leading The Mandalorians together as allies to the New Republic. We could’ve had a House Of Cards/West Wing/Game Of Thrones styled writing for the overall politics of The New Republic. You could’ve made a goddamn fortune on New Republic troopers, armor, weapons, fighters and frigates. Hell, you could even have The New Republic wield their own Star Defenders as opposed to Star Destroyers. I am well aware that canon demilitarized The New Republic and already made a post on why disarming the New Republic in new canon was stupid.

What should have happened is that the NR commanders the Imperial Fleet and starts protecting systems who join the NR, all while chasing down and fighting any of the Remnants (Moffs, Warlords, Crime Lords, etc) who have grabbed power in the resulting vacuum. We could have seen an evolution of ships from Old Republic to Empire to NR ones. They could have renamed Star Destroyers into Star Defenders. Hell, they could have had a Republic of independent systems, each with their own sizable military, so that power isn't centralized.

Here is what the Sequel Trilogy could’ve been with the New Republic in power.

This could have been an interesting question for the ST. What happens after you win a war? How do you not make the same mistakes or become the thing you fought. What happens in a power vacuum? The NR should have been the dominant emerging power, and the Remnant should have been a small, secretive, unknown order, striking strategically from the UR where they hid, and causing fear and panic to spread in the NR. But no, instead of telling an interesting story, we are force fed the recycled poorly written rehashed Rebels vs Empire and the Rebels are made to be weaker than The First Order. The First Order are a terrorist movement, they should not be reigning after Hosnian Prime’s destruction, ESPECIALLY AFTER LOSING STARKILLER BASE! Concentrating your government and defenses around only one system is really stupid(AND BAD FUCKING WRITING) The New Republic’s forces should have been spread far across the galaxy. So after Hosnian Prime, The New Republic sees the bigger picture and mobilizes their fleet and unites their forces with The Resistance. Instead The New Republic is stupidly destroyed because Rian wanted the Rebels to be the Rebels again.(lol this movie is fucking dumb) God forbid we get The New Republic fighting the First Order and making the heroes looking strong in force instead of stupidly having all the Rebels fit inside the Falcon. For the love of fucking god I hate this fucking timeline.

As for The Imperial Remnant. Thrawn, and Rae Sloane would lead the fleets and Darth Plagueis and the Knights Of Ren would would be in command of the dark side.

Do you have any idea how fucking frustrated it was to play The Battlefront games with The Resistance who are just discount Rebels? They look fucking pathetic.

JUST LOOK AT THE NEW REPUBLIC IN THE MANDALORIAN!!!!!!!! SO MUCH POTENTIAL!

Oh and just look at the NR Troopers from Legends and fan concepts

SO. MUCH. POTENTIAL!

As for the New Jedi Order.

Ya’ll were sitting on a GOLDMINE with the New Jedi Order. You murdered the goose which laid thegolden egg. Imagine proper video games, novels, animations, films in that era. Think about all of the unique characters and designs we could’ve seen, all the unique toys they could have sold, plus they could’ve centered Galaxy’s Edge around becoming a Jedi, building your own lightsaber, and undergoing training at Luke’s academy. I know they have a lightsaber-building thing there currently, but it would’ve made a lot more sense if they could’ve tied it in to the new trilogy with the New Jedi Order. Plus, Mark Hamill was the only one of the major OT actors who was willing to continually reprise his role well into the future, and they reduced Luke’s role to a cameo in 2/3 sequel movies and ruined his character and killed him off in the other one. They could’ve kept Luke around for several more decades and thrown him in to as many TV series, video games, and movies as they wanted to, and people would’ve flocked to see or purchase whatever he’s in, because it’s freaking Luke Skywalker. Destroying the New Jedi Order offscreen and ruining and killing off Luke Skywalker were the two dumbest decisions made with the sequel trilogy. They could’ve made BILLIONS off of this stuff. The continued pre-trilogy and post-trilogy stories, the toys, the merchandising, the video games, the books and comics, everything. What makes matters worse is that as I said, Mark Hamill was the only one who wanted to continue with his role,( Also he is an accomplished voice actor so he would have done well in the animated stuff, which also gives him opportunities to do action scenes without being young) he honestly probably would’ve been willing to reprise Luke up until he was in his 80s or even into his 90s, hell, Billy Dee Williams was just over 80 when he reprised Lando in TROS, and Luke wouldn’t even need an action-heavy role as he got older, as the Grandmaster of the New Jedi Order, he’d be able to have a similar role to Yoda in the prequels and The Clone Wars, where he provides wisdom and guidance the majority of the time, but he every once in a while he steps into battle, while the new characters go on the vast majority of the adventures. They really shit the bed with these new movies, because using the New Jedi Order with Luke as Grandmaster would’ve made them BILLIONS. I truly don’t understand how such a money-hungry corporation could’ve missed out on this, because using the NJO would’ve been like printing money. It’s genuinely baffling.

We could’ve had it all

Source

For story purposes. It could’ve been like this.

Luke starts to rebuild the Jedi by training his sister Leia. Leia could not fully commit to the Jedi because she had to lead the Republic as Chancellor, but she is made an honorary member on his Jedi Council. Leia would agree to be trained as a Jedi Master. Leia has a Yellow Lightsaber she keeps hidden should the moment arises. Leia’s most powerful force ability is Battle Meditation. After training Leia, Luke eventually encountered The Emperor’s Hand Mara Jade. Their dynamic and romance would be the same as in Legends. Eventually after Ezra Bridger returns, Ahsoka Tano, Cal Kestis, and Ezra Bridger return and join Luke’s Jedi order. The Jedi council would be this. Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Mara Jade, Ahsoka Tano, Cal Kestis and Ezra Bridger. The new Jedi Order embrace both the Light and Dark Sides Of The Force instead of repeating the mistakes of the Jedi of old and so balance can be brought to the force. Balance would mean understanding both aspects of the force and you can indulge in your anger and more toxic emotions, but you can’t let them rule you and when you can come to peace with that, that’s when you have balance.

Also, Luke’s Jedi order would include multiple aliens species from Wookies, Twi'leks, Iridonians, Trandoshans, Mirialan and you get the picture.

Finn would be a mix of Kyle Katarn and Finn Galfridian.

For those not familiar with either character. Kyle Katarn, a self taught force sensitive who was a former Imperial Stormtrooper that later became a Jedi Master, Battlemaster and a Jedi Council member. Finn Galfridian, a Jedi who is from Royal background and is part of the New Jedi Order who was being taught by Luke Skywalker Finn could still be a Stormtrooper that chose empathy and to walk away, this results in Finn becoming Force Sensitive and brought to be trained by Grogu. We would later find out that Finn is a lost prince of Royalty stolen by The Imperial Remnant. Perhaps, in this scenario. Finn could be the lost Prince of Naboo. Finn would of course continue fighting in the war, but with Artorias on the New Republic’s side, they will gave more funding and at least another ally. It would also provide Finn the ability to have a home for the Stormtroopers after Finn liberates the Stormtroopers from the Remnant. Finn could allow the Stormtroopers that still want to fight to serve in the Naboo military. The Naboo having weak defenses could greatly benefit from having trained soldiers serve them and if the Stormtroopers would prefer a peaceful life, Finn can offer them a civilian lifestyle away from the judgment the rest of the galaxy would give them for their past, even offering them reparations.

Also, Finn would find love with best damn pilot in The New Republic, Poe Dameron!

Luke and Mara would have a daughter. Kira Jade Skywalker(who of course would be Rey) she would grow up loved, with her family and with the Jedi. They would all truly be With her.

Ben Solo, Breha Solo(Played by Billie Lourd) and Jaina Solo(played by Millie Bobby Brown) would be the Solo children. Ben, Breha, and Jaina would all grow up close and would thrive as Jedi while their parents would visit and shower them with the love they would naturally receive from Han and Leia as their parents and Han and Leia would stand strong together leading The New Republic

You could have Ben Solo being the most promising of Luke’s Jedi Knights. He can either stay as a Jedi or choose The Imperial Remnant and become Kylo Ren. The Jedi Order is split between the Jedi loyal to Luke and those loyal to Ben. I will say Ben’s fall would be similar to Jacen’s. Because he sensed something terrible coming. The Grysk. He feels that the Jedi and the NR would not be enough. So he gives in to Darth Plagueis and leads the Knights Of Ren. But when The Grysk attack, Ben shows us his true colors and returns to his family to fight The Grysk and unites both The New Republic and Remnant.

If Ben doesn’t turn to the dark side, Ben would stay true to the Jedi and his family. Ben would lead the Jedi to face the Knights Of Ren and destroy Plagueis.

Together Kira, Ben, Breha, Jaina and Finn would rise together and destroy Darth Plagueis and end the Sith once and for all.

But that’s not the end, because The Grysk would invade the galaxy.

Towards the end of the Trilogy, The NR and FO will join forces to fend off The Grysk invasion. Sloane will call for a cease fire and signing a treaty with Leia, where The NR and FO align their forces and build The Galactic Federation. Building a better galaxy together. Leia's vision for a Republic and Sloane's virtues for the Empire.

We get the legacy characters getting treated with respect, we get the new generation built upon and being prepared for the coming war and are all treated as important heroes, we have a FO treated like strong villains and a stronger threat to unite both forces and we have peace in the end. This is how I think the ST should have been handled.

The theme should’ve been family. It’s about how the Skywalkers and Solos lead and protect the galaxy. How well Han, Luke and Leia became after the fall of the Empire and the upbringing of their children. It should end with all is well with the Skywalker and Solo families. Not end in misery.

As Carrie Fisher said

“It’s about family. And that’s what makes it so powerful.”

We could’ve had it all.

#Luke Skywalker #Finnpoe #Anti Lucasfilm #Anti Kathleen Kennedy #Anti Disney #Anti JJ Abrams #Anti Rian Johnson

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softboywriting · 4 years ago

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Hate To Love You | Poe Dameron

Summary: You and Poe have been friends since you arrived at the Resistance base three years ago. Well, friends who often want to strangle each other as much as they want to take the other to bed. After a solo mission gone wrong you get teamed up with Poe for a follow up mission on Canto Bight. The two of you together under the right circumstances may lead to something neither of you can resist, and confessions that can’t be taken back. [Star wars universe] [nsfw themes no smut] [fluff] [fr-enemies to lovers [[sort of]]

Word Count: 6k

|Masterlist In Bio|

You find yourself in a bad area of Kajimi while on an intel mission for Leia. There is supposedly a man with information about the location of an abandoned First Order fleet ship that would be an excellent salvage opportunity. Stars above know the Resistance can use all the weapons and ship parts they can get their hands on. You went in alone, opting to leave behind your usual partner Daya, while she was laid up from a blaster burn. It was supposed to be an easy job. You go into Kajimi City, go to a cantina called Knicks and meet a man in an emerald green robe. He would give you a holopad and you would leave. Of course that does not happen.

You enter the cantina and immediately note that it is absolutely packed from wall to wall. It's loud, as most are, and you make your way around, looking for the man in the emerald robe. It's hard to see as it's barely lit. It's a divey place, sketchiness oozes from every inch of the establishment. Bad things, illegal things, happen here. You keep your head down, pull your hood up and keep moving.

"Oh look at her! Hey honey, gimme some of that body." Some guy hollers as you pass him.

You step forward and push past two big aliens that are conversing in grunts. You cannot stand being hit on. It's so irritating. You wore baggy jumpsuit pants and one of Poe's jackets to make yourself seem shapeless. Apparently that didn't work as well as you hoped. You wish the contact would show up or make himself seen because you're not keen on asking the barkeep about him. Last time you did that it ended badly, as the person you were after was not well liked.

There isn't much time to worry about all of that when a loud boom shakes the cantina, causing a hush to fall over the crowded room.

"First Order! Run!" Someone yells and then panic erupts.

You're jostled around as patrons begin to hurry for the exit. This sucks, there is no way you're going to get the intel now. Fuck it. You head for the exit, squeezing past a few droids to get out into the cold night air. Sure enough there are stormtroopers everywhere grabbing people left and right. You duck into an alley and head for anywhere that is not the middle of town.

The alley goes to a dead end that has an open sewer tunnel grate. It's better than nothing. You'll camp out in the tunnels and wait until things settle down topside. You slide past the bars and head into the dark passageway, pulling your flashlight out for a better visual. Unfortunately you don't make it too far before you come face to face with a blaster as you enter a dim lit tunnel.

"How'd you find this place?" The woman on the other end of the blaster says. "You're not part of the crew."

"I ran from the stormtroopers and slipped through an open sewer grate. I don't mean any harm."

"That jacket, where'd you get it?"

You look down and back up. "Uh, someone gave it to me?"

The woman walks forward, blaster still trained on you. "I know this jacket. Who are you?"

"I'm with the resistance. I can leave, I will find another place to stay until the stormtroopers clear out."

"What's your name?"

You swallow thickly. Why does your name matter? And why is she obsessed with this jacket? "Dameron. My name is Dameron."

"Dameron? Poe Dameron? Are you related?"

Oh fuck. She knows Poe. Shit. Fuck. He told you he once had bad luck on Kajimi, but he also said he had friends there. He never specified exactly what bad luck meant, but of course you'd run into someone who knew him. It's a fifty fifty chance, either this person is a friend or an enemy and you're gonna have to roll the dice. "He's my...husband?"

She scoffs. "He's alive? That son of a bitch. I should tea-"

"Zorii! They've taken Burnham!" Someone shouts from down the tunnel.

The woman makes a noise of annoyance. "Listen, you tell Poe if he ever steps foot on Kajimi again I will have his head on a platter and serve the rest of him to a sand worm. And if I see him outside if Kajimi it's on sight. Got it?"

"Yep. Got it." You turn and head back to the entrance of the tunnels. Sweat runs down your back and you walk faster, feeling the wall for guidance. You're too afraid to turn your light back on in case Zorii comes after you. You're done taking chances today, it's time to get back to your ship and get back to base. Fuck the intel.

_____________________

"Hey! You made it back!" Poe cheers, clapping you on the back as soon as you enter the command center. He's the only one in there, seemingly going over the latest attack plans on a First Order base. "How was Kajimi? Did you get the coordinates?"

"No, I didn't." You pull off your hat and gloves, slapping them on the table. "Do you know a woman named Zorii?"

Poe's face pales, eyes wide. "Perhaps, why?"

"I ran into her on accident. She recognized your jacket!" You pluck at the leather collar. "I'm fairly certain I'm lucky to be alive."

"Whoa hold on, did you say it was mine?"

"Sort of? I don't know, she asked my name and I said Dameron because I didn't want to give my real name because safety and whatever and I didn’t think any more of it. But of course she knew you! And she seemed to think you were dead. Wanna explain?"

"You gave my name?!" Poe grabs his hair and turns away, pacing the length of the star chart console. "Fuck! What did you tell her? I need to know. Did you say you were my sister? My cousin? My child?"

"First of all I'm too old to be your child you idiot. I said wife."

"Wife?! Oh for ewoks sake. You told her I was married?!"

You shrug the jacket off and throw it on a console. "I took a chance Poe! I had no idea if she was a friend or a foe!"

"Oh you took a chance alright. I'm so fucking dead now."

"Why? She was pissed but how bad can it be?"

Poe laughs debilitatingly. "Faking my own death to get out of the crew and join the resistance? Is that bad? Or hold how about this, I faked my death and we were seeing each other at the time I did."

Your jaw drops. "Poe Dameron! You did what?!"

"Yeah! Yeah, no I know! I'm a huge piece of shit but I did what I had to do to keep my ass alive."

You throw your hands up and turn away, walking toward the seating area. "You couldn't just break up with her like a normal person? No?"

"It wasn't about her, it was about leaving the crew."

"Then just leave!"

"Just leave? You have no idea how much shit that would put me in. I faked my death to sever all ties. Spice runners don't let people just leave when you know about their production and-"

"SPICE?!"

"Yeah that's what I said. We all have a past, don't start with me." He groans and sinks down into a chair. "I'm so fucking dead."

"You're only dead if you set foot on Kajimi. Just don't go there."

"Ah, yeah sure. Didn't plan on that regardless. The point isn't that I want to go back to Kajimi one day, it's a shit hole anyway, it's that Zorii knows I'm not dead and I lied to her. She's going to be furious and probably come after my ass."

"Well she can't miss it."

Poe gives you a death stare. "I'm aware my ass is big. Believe me, the seats in the falcon remind me every fucking time. I don't need this right now." He stands and heads for the exit as a few Captains enter. You watch as he leaves and turn your chair toward the console behind it, burying your face in your hands and sighing heavily.

______________________

"Poe?" You call out tentatively as you enter the area of the hangar where he's been working on his x-wing for the last several hours. It's been a day since you got into it in the command center and you feel horrible for making him angry. He's your commander, and you'd even say friend though you butt heads a bit, but at the end of the day you do care for him. A lot. More than you probably should, even if he is a real pain in your ass. He gets under your skin and makes you hotter than any man ever has. It's a fine balance of attraction and irritation.

Sure enough he's laying across the top of his x-wing, foot hooked into the opening of the cockpit, stretched out reaching something inside the engine. He's got on just his cargo pants and a black tank top and you cannot help but stare at his ass. Yes, you teased him about it earlier but in all honesty you love it. It's so...grabable and sexy. He has no idea. Or maybe he does. It seemed like a sore subject earlier but you had been teasing him so that's your fault.

"Poe?" You say a bit louder and he pushes up out of the engine, arms holding him up against the mainframe. His hair is curled beyond belief, the humidity and sweat most likely.

"What now?"

"I wanted to say sorry for yesterday morning."

He pushes himself up farther and repositions himself to slide off the edge of the x-wings body to stand in front of you. He wipes his hands on his tank and crosses his arms. "Why'd you say you were my wife?"

"Huh? I told you, because-"

"No. No, you could have said sister or cousin, anything. But you chose to say wife. Why?"

"I guess I thought it was the safest option." You shrug and dig your boot into the dusty concrete. You definitely haven't imagined what it would be like to be his wife. To be his girlfriend even. Definitely not.

"You thought- oh." Poe hums. "Well I got news for you, wife. We have an assignment together."

"What? Why?"

"Because our friend with the coordinates has taken refuge in Canto Bight."

"The casino resort city? Why the fuck would he go there?"

Poe shrugs. "It beats me. Maybe the guy has a gambling problem. Either way, you and I are going and we are getting those coordinates."

"Why do you need to go?"

"As your partner."

Your heart sinks. Leia knows you blew it on Kajimi. It wasn't supposed to be a solo mission but you said you could handle it. Not that it was your fault the first order decided to raid the city. But why Poe? Why not send someone else with you? Daya? Rose? Wexley?

"Why?"

Poe jumps and hits the release for the hood of the x-wing to fall closed. "Why, because Leia said so."

"Why you? Doesn't she need you here for stuff?"

He smiles and hooks his thumbs in the belt loops of his pants. "It's gonna be me because I asked for the mission."

"You're messing with me aren't you? This is some kind of retribution for outing your fake death."

"Maybe, maybe not." He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him. "Pack your bags, because it's honeymoon week on Canto Bight."

"What?!"

"Oh yeah. They're only letting couples in and seeing as you're my wife now..."

"POE DAMERON!"

"Mmm?"

You shove him and he cackles. "You asshole! You are so petty for this."

"Yeah well you signed my death warrant. The least I can do is get even just a little bit."

"I'm not going to sleep with you!" You shout back as you walk away. "I'm not your real wife!"

"We'll see about that!"

_____________________

Poe Dameron can clean up nice. Galaxies he looks like a model when he peels off the fighter suit and runs his hand over his curls. He's in a red silken dress shirt, the top three buttons undone and showing off his gold chain beneath that dips down low on his chest. Black slacks that are definitely tailored because they hug his butt and thighs like they're made for him. Fuck.

"Are you going to change?" Poe asks, gesturing to your flight suit. "I don't think they'll let us in if you're in that."

"Of course I'm going to change." You tug at the velcro of your suit and peel it open to reveal your dress beneath. It's not too fancy, just a simple black dress, knee length and short sleeved. You don't have a lot of nice clothes, they just aren't something you keep around. You do have a necklace from your mom, a nice silver chain with a blue gem pendant. You don't look nearly as nice as Poe does.

"So our cover is that we're a newly wed couple who can't keep their hands off each other. I'm more likely to get noticed here. I can hide my face in your neck and hair. People don't care much for PDA so they will hopefully just ignore us and-" Poe stops mid briefing and you look over at him. "Oh damn." He mutters softly. "My wife looks hot."

"What? Shut up." You toss the flight suit into the cockpit and attempt to fix your hair in the reflection on the windshield. "You're being an ass."

Poe lays his hand on your lower back. "I give you a compliment and I'm an ass? What kind of backwards planet are you from?"

"It was not a compliment. You said wife. Which is not a compliment, it's teasing, so you are an ass."

He leans in close and you press against the x-wing. You can see him in the windshield behind you. Your eyes meet in the reflection and you refuse to look away. His voice comes close to your ear, eyes still boring into yours as he says, "My partner looks stunning and beautiful and I cannot believe I get to do this mission with her. Is that better?"

Your stomach sinks and your heart stops. "You're not bad yourself."

He chuckles, still close to your ear. "I know."

"Confident much?" You press back against him to move away from the x-wing and he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tight against his warmth. Your body flushes, heat pooling in your stomach. Flashes of what you'd like him to do race through your brain. Galaxies what you wouldn't let him do to you. No. You have to get your mind out of the gutter. You have a job to do. "Let go, Poe."

"Better get used to it. We're going to do a lot of touching." He purrs before he releases you.

You roll your eyes and he smirks.

"Don't think I can't see that blush." He walks beside you as you head to the grand entry way of the Canto Bight resort. "I know you want me."

"In your dreams, Dameron."

He chuckles. "I do have lots of dreams." He matches your pace and slips his arm around your back. "Fun dreams. We should share them sometime."

You cut him a glare and he grins. "You're really playing into this cover."

"Who says I'm playing?"

______________________

As soon as you're checked in, the hunt is on. You can't help but wonder how many of these people would just leap at the chance to throttle you and Poe for simply being part of the Resistance. There's only one way to get this rich in the galaxy and that is weaponry and sympathizing with the First Order. After an hour or so you and Poe head for the elevators that go to the game rooms on the top floor. It's the roulette rooms to be exact. You got word from base that the contact is a roulette player, always betting black.

"I hope we find him." You say to yourself as the doors to the elevator close. It's only you and Poe inside, which is fine with you. At least you don't have to act when no one is around. The last hour has been an excruciating test of will power. You want this to be over, to never have to touch Poe again because it is killing you inside. You know this won't last.

"As do I."

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. I still feel like we're flying a little blind."

"We'll find him."

You look over and Poe has his arms crossed, staring straight ahead at the reflective doors. You look at the doors and take in the two of you together. He looks like he belongs here and you don't. People are going to know you're fakes. This isn't a mission for you, you're not a good actor and you're barely dressed for the part.

"You look great, stop worrying." Poe says softly.

"What? I didn't say anything?"

"You're staring at our reflection intently. I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. You look great."

You fold your arms over your chest and lean against the wall. "You're staring too."

Poe turns and steps directly in front of you. "I'm staring at you."

"Well stop."

"I can't." He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger and your hands start sweating, heart going wild. "I wanna take it all in while I have it."

"You think I'm not going to dress up ever again?"

"Maybe. I've known you for three years now and I've never seen you like this."

"Don't get used to it."

Poe releases your chin as the elevator dings, signaling your floor. "I won't. But I'm going to relish it while I can."

"Yeah, you do tha-ah!"

He grabs your hand and pulls you out onto the game floor, tugging you against his chest. He slides a hand into your hair and your knees go weak. "Remember our cover?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Newly weds." He drops his lips to your ear. "That can't get enough of each other. You can touch me again, it's okay."

You rest your hand against his chest and his heart is beating fast and hard. He's really into this. "How are we supposed to find the contact if we're all over each other?"

"We will. Just follow my lead."

Poe wraps his arm around your back and guides you to walk with him to a table. He crowds you against the table in front of him, lips going to your neck. "Ask what the buy in is?"

"What's the buy in?" You smile sweetly, looking at the dealer. You're trying not to tremble but Poe is really making you feel weak kneed. He's taken to sliding his hand across your stomach and massaging his thumb just over your ribcage.

"Twenty thousand Madame." The dealer says happily. "Shall I put you on the board next round?"

"Uh.."

"Yes." Poe says more lustfully than helpfully.

You shiver and nod. "Yes please."

The dealer gives a nod and begins to set out a marker for you while the roulette wheel spins away.

"How exactly are we doing this?" You hiss at Poe and he chuckles. "Seriously what money do you-"

"He's here."

"What? Where?" You look around the table and no one matches the contact's description. "Where?"

Poe bites at your neck and you let out an embarrassing little noise of pleasure. He's hitting all your sensitive spots and it's driving you mad. "Table at our two o'clock."

You look over and sure enough there is a man in a long emerald green robe. "Great let's go talk to him."

"Not so fast." Poe murmurs, fingers flexing on your stomach. "We have a game to play."

"No we don't. We have no money." You seethe and he hums against your back. "Seriously what are you-"

Poe lays a bundle of tokens on the table and your eyes go wide. "Don't lose." He presses a kiss to your cheek and pulls away.

"Don't- how the fuck am I supposed to-" You look back and he's crossing the game room to get to the table where the contact is. You look back at your own game and white knuckle the edge of the table. You don't even know how to play roulette.

"Madame? Your bet?" The dealer calls, looking at you.

"I- thirteen?"

"The color Madame?"

"Black."

"Very well."

You watch as the wheel spins and the little ball bounces around inside. It's insufferable. You can't watch. You know it's going to cause you to lose this stack of tokens Poe just slapped down out of nowhere. Why does he have so much money? You look up and find him standing near the contact. He doesn't appear to be talking, just observing.

"Winner!"

Your eyes snap back to the table and the dealer is pushing a large amount of tokens toward you. "What..."

"Thirteen black, straight bet. You've taken the majority of the pot Madame. Shall I put you down for another round or cash you out?"

"Cash out."

The dealer stacks your tokens into a carrier and pushes the small box toward you. "Best of times madame."

You gather the box and make a beeline for Poe. The moment you're in range you lay a hand on his back and he turns, scooping you against him and pressing his lips to your cheek. "I-...Okay?"

"The contact is a spy from the First Order," Poe whispers, kissing along your jaw and your mind goes fuzzy. "This is a trap. We need to stay low, contact Leia and find out more information."

"H-how do you know?" You stammer, brain split between wanting to focus on the mission and getting Poe alone in a bedroom.

"He's wearing a ring that only First Order commanders have. I've seen it before."

You slide your hand down his back and rest it on his ass. It takes everything in you not to squeeze. "We should talk elsewhere. Like you said, we need to get ahold of Leia."

"Did you lose my money at the table?"

"No, and on that subject, where the fuck did you get that much in tokens? Since when do you just have an extra twenty thousand laying around?"

"Don't worry about it. What did you win?"

"I don't know?" You move away and hold up the carrier full of tokens. "The dealer just gave me this."

Poe takes it and his eyes go wide. "Holy sh- this is way more than I laid down. Okay first things first we cash this out and get a room. Then we call Leia."

"Sounds good."

_____________________

The room is huge, a suite for a small family. Seriously you could house at least four people in there comfortably it is so large. You take a seat on the end of the giant gold and black bed in the center of the room and Poe starts rolling up his sleeves. It's way hotter than it should be and your brain wanders. It'd feel so good to have him pin you down, kiss you until you can't think straight anymore. His tongue is probably so skilled and-

"Hey, hello, you alive?" Poe says, touching your shoulder. "Did you bring the communicator?"

"Yeah, yeah it's in my purse."

Poe looks around and spots the small purse you had been carrying. "This could have been very bad."

"Do you think he would have tried to kill us?"

"No. I think he would have given us the coordinates and lead us into a death trap." Poe dials out the command center code. "I knew this abandoned ship was too good to be true."

You flop back and stare at the ceiling while Poe talks to Leia. It's painted gold with black stars imprinted throughout. It's interesting, ritzy and obnoxious, but still pretty. You smile to yourself. You've never been in a place this nice. Never in a million years did you think you would find yourself in Canto Bight. Heat rises in your stomach as you reflect on the last hour or so with Poe. He was so willing to touch you, to make you squirm under his attentions. Does he feel some type of way for real? Is he playing the part? You know one thing, you are never going to recover from this. You're going to have dreams for months.

"You know your dress is leaving little to the imagination."

You snap out of your thoughts and sit up, staring at Poe who's standing at the end of the bed looking down at you. Galaxies it's so sexy, his eyes are trained on you and you can't look away. Your dress is hiked up to your thighs, so laying down he could probably see your underwear. "Maybe you should look elsewhere."

"Maybe I don't wanna." He smirks and your blood pressure skyrockets. He reaches out and flips the bit of fabric laying on your leg and exposes a bit more skin.

"Poe!"

His big hand covers the top of your thigh and he gives a little squeeze. "Tell me to stop."

"Poe...what're you doing?"

His other hand finds your opposite thigh and he slides them up under the dress. He's just touching your legs and you're getting riled up. He presses his face into your neck and you let out the most feeble whine of pleasure. "If you don't want this for real, tell me now."

"We shouldn-"

He gives a little bite and you fall backwards, body no longer able to handle it. "Yes or no sweetheart, I need to know if you want this?"

"Yes. I want you." You bite your lip and it's all over. Poe climbs over you, holding your wrists just like you imagined. His lips find yours, kissing you hungrily while you squirm beneath him, aching to touch him in return. You know it's going to be a long night and that's just fine.

____________________

Sometime in the middle of the night you wake up, eyes opening to the darkened room. For a moment you cannot sort out where you are. The bed feels unfamiliar, the air smells different, nothing is right. Then it hits you. Canto Bight. Poe. You roll over and sure enough there he is beside you, arm over his face.

Last night comes back to you. Oh man. That's why you're sore and naked. You turn back over and Poe shifts on his side. An arm wraps around your chest, pulling you flush against him under the blankets.

"Go back to sleep sweetheart."

"You're awake too."

His hand slides up your chest and settles against your throat. You shiver, remembering last night. A wave of heat courses down your body and settles between your legs. He must know this because he chuckles softly. "Quiet now aren't you?"

"Shut up."

"That's not what you told me last night." He kisses along your shoulder and rubs his thumb back and forth across your throat, applying gentle pressure. "I believe the words were, harder please."

"Poe we just woke up. Do you really need to do this now?" You groan and he slides his hand away, settling it on your chest instead.

He nuzzles against your hair and places another kiss to the back of your neck. "I don't want it to end."

"What?"

"Us, this."

You turn over and face him, nearly nose to nose. You can feel his breath and you stare at each other for a long moment. "You want this?"

He nods. "Please?"

"Okay, I'm down for exploring this." You smile and he leans in to kiss you gently. "I guess I wasn't so far off when I said I was your wife."

Poe cards a hand through your hair. "Easy now, we could make that a possibility. There's a dozen union halls here."

"We're not getting married!" You laugh and he does so in turn. "Fuck a guy once and he wants to make you his wife. Damn, how long has it been Poe?"

"Shut up!"

"No seriously, how long?"

"A while."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Sure. It's your fault."

You narrow your eyes and he's grinning. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means, it's your fault I haven't gotten laid." He flips your nose with his finger and you swat him away. "I'm spelling it out here."

"No you're not? How is it my fault exactly?"

"Because I'm...inlovewithyou." He mutters the last bit, and stares diligently at your pillow.

You touch his cheek and turn his head up to look at you. "Run that by me again?"

"You heard it."

"I heard the impossible. So I know I heard wrong."

"Fuck you, impossible."

"Then say it again!

"I love you!" He takes in a shaky breath. "You're the only woman I've ever met that goes toe to toe with me and gets under my skin to the point I just want to rip your head off but also fuck you so hard you're begging for it. I look forward to seeing you every morning, I look forward to talking to you every day. When you go on missions I can't eat or sleep because I'm so damn worried you won't come back. Fuck, you're everything and I-I must look like an idiot."

"Poe."

"Don't say it. I know it's fine. You don't feel the same and-"

You lean forward and kiss him to make him shut up. He catches on immediately and cradles your face as he returns the kiss. "First things first Dameron..."

"Yeah?" He mutters, eyes closed as he chases your lips as you speak.

"Don't ever tell me how I feel."

He grins and opens his eyes, staring back at you with burning fire. It's passion, challenge, interest. So many emotions you can't settle on one. "Can I tell you want to do?"

"What do you think?"

"Yes?" He slides his hand down to your throat, not squeezing, just touching. "You seemed to like me telling you what to do last night."

You bite his lip and he groans. "Maybe sometimes."

"I'll take sometimes." He pulls you against him, tucking your head under his chin. "Can I take you to breakfast?"

"Like a date?"

"Yes."

"Sure, but you gotta tell me where you got those tokens last night."

He chuckles. "They're fake."

"Fake?! You gave me fake tokens?!"

"I told you not to lose didn't I?"

"You son of a bitch."

"No my mother was a kind woman, thank you."

"I hate you."

He kisses your head and holds his lips to your hair. "No you don't."

You grip his back, pressing your face into his chest. "I don't. Not even a little."

_____________________

Three days after you and Poe return to base things don't seem to have changed. Poe doesn't seem to hint at wanting to be together, he doesn't say anything about what happened between you two on Canto Bight. It's weird. You had such a good night and a lovely breakfast. As far as hook ups and first dates go, they were some of the best you've ever had. You thought things were going well, that you were going to be a couple when you got back to base, but that isn't happening and you don't know why. It's a little annoying and you wonder if Poe is embarrassed to be with you. Or maybe he doesn't want people to know because he wants to keep his options open. You feel played and it is not sitting well.

"Bout time you got back." You say as Poe walks up to the supply cart you're stocking in the hangar. He has been out on a mission with the black x-wing team. Some sort of attack on some stormtroopers invading a resistance friendly settlement.

"Miss me?"

"Yeah, sure." You roll your eyes.

Poe grabs the handles on the cart and leans forward as he speaks. "Is there a problem?"

"I don't know, is there?"

"Don't start with me."

You slam down a pack of fuses and lift your eyes to meet his. "Don't start with you? Oh no problem, you already didn't start it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh fuck you."

Poe raises his eyebrows. "Fuck me? I'm not doing anything. You're coming at me for who knows what. Tell me what I did!"

"Nothing! You've done nothing Poe! Since we got home you've barely looked at me twice. We spent an incredible night in Canto Bight and for what? For what Poe?!"

"That's what you're mad about?!"

"Yeah! I feel like I've been played!" You laugh angrily, stepping away from the cart and walking around a pile of scrap parts in boxes. "Is Poe Dameron too good to admit he fell in love?!"

"Fuck all, you don't need to shout that across the base!"

You narrow your eyes at him. "You want me to shout? Oh I'll shout." You turn your back to him and face the open expanse of the hangar. "I'm in love with Poe Dameron and he is in love with me! We fucked on Canto Bight and it was amazing!"

A few pilots and crew nearby make noises of encouragement.

Poe grabs your shoulder and turns you around a little rougher than you expect. He backs you against the wall and your heart goes absolutely wild. "You want something to scream about? I'll give you a reason to scream my name."

"Put your money where your mouth is Dameron."

He leans in close, caging you in with his hands on the wall beside your head. "Call me by my last name again and I'll make sure you scream it too."

You stare at him in heavy silence for a moment. The tension is teetering on thin ice. "Tell me you love me. Say it again."

"I love you." He presses his forehead against yours. "I love you until the stars burn out."

"Then why have you been putting me off for the last three days?"

"I've been working through some personal shit."

You swallow thickly. You feel like an asshole now. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't know." He drops his hands from the wall and holds your face. "I promise I'll tell you everything one day, just bare with me."

You grab his wrists and rub your thumb over the back of his hands. "Are you okay? Like...y'know?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure?"

Poe nods. "It's just my PTSD and some other stuff. Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Do you really love me like you just shouted to the base?"

You smile and he bumps your noses together. "Yeah Poe. I love you."

He leans in and kisses you, smiling into it as he does so. "You're really hot when you're angry."

"You are too." You grin back as you slide your hands over his butt. "Maybe we should work on communication."

"Mmm. Then let me tell you how much I want to get you alone right now."

"What's stopping you?"

"Nothing." He grunts as he slides his hands under your legs and lifts you up. "I'm taking you straight to the commander's quarters for punishment."

You grip his back tightly as he walks you out of the hangar. "What's my offense?"

"Verbally attacking a commander and stealing his heart."

"You're cheesy."

"You love it." He purrs, placing his lips against your throat. "You love me."

"Yes, yes I do."

---------

End

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Header pic by delicate-venus

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