#tico pads

[gustavopotente]

Tapete Higiênico Tico Pads 30 Unidades vale a pena? #shorts

[nerdybouquetpeanutworld]

Tapete Higiênico Tico Pads 30 Unidades Funciona? Com inibidor de odor e ...

[slasher-fucker-and-sucker]

Can you write a found family rose Tico from star wars story please where reader is part of the resistance but struggles with anxiety?

Rose Tico & Reader: Found Family in the Resistance

The Resistance base was buzzing with activity—orders barked, droids whirred, and the constant shuffle of boots filled the air. You tried to focus on your task, but the overwhelming noise and the weight of everything pressed on your chest. Anxiety was a shadow that followed you, curling around your thoughts and tightening like a vice.

“Hey,” a voice broke through the fog, light and filled with warmth. Rose Tico.

You looked up from your data pad, startled. Rose’s wide, friendly smile greeted you. She was holding a small toolkit, her ever-present companion. “You look like you’re about to bolt,” she teased gently, sitting down beside you.

You managed a weak smile. “Just... a lot.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Rose leaned back, letting her gaze drift to the ceiling. “This place can feel like a pressure cooker sometimes. But you’re not alone in it.”

From that day, Rose made it her mission to help you feel less isolated.

[all-the-things-2020]

Just A Small Wedding

Summary: Poe and Finn just want a small, casual wedding. Black Squadron and the rest of their friends have grander plans.

Word Count: 3600

Rating: PG-13

Things were starting to get out of hand. Finn and Poe had insisted on a small, casual wedding, but once Rose Tico and Black Squadron got involved, it was growing into something completely different.

“No, we do not want an orchestra,” Finn told Rose. “I told you, nothing fancy.”

“But …”

“And we are not inviting any heads of state, or ambassadors, or anything like that. This is not an official event.”

“But …”

“Just our friends and family. Some food, lots of booze, maybe a little music in case anyone wants to dance. It’s not a big deal.”

“But it is a big deal, Finn,” Rose finally managed to get a word in. “This is huge. You two led the Resistance to its greatest victory; you guys are heroes. Everyone wants to celebrate with you.”

Finn sighed. Ever since they’d gotten home from that first trip to Yavin 4 and word of their engagement got out, people just would not leave them alone. Everyone had an opinion: how long the engagement should last, where the wedding should be held, who should officiate, what they should serve the guests, how many guests there should be, what they should wear …

“I know, Rose,” he said. “But really, we’d rather just do this quietly and get back to work.”

“All you do is work,” she retorted. “Seriously, except for a few days here and there, you two never rest. You deserve some fun. A big party, no responsibilities. The galaxy won’t fall apart if you take some time off.”

“We do take time off,” Finn said. “We went to Yavin just three weeks ago …”

“For one day.”

“And there was Pava’s birthday party last month …”

“You guys were there for two hours before Poe got a comm and you disappeared.”

“We’re the Generals. We’re the ones in charge. We have to be responsible.”

“You aren’t responsible for everyone and everything, Finn.”

“Tell Poe that.” He didn’t mean to let that slip out; one of the things he loved most about Poe was his dedication to the Resistance, that steadfast devotion to his ideals, to what was right. But sometimes, he thought Poe was trying too hard to fill Leia’s shoes.

“Look, Rose, forget I said that. Just … just let us do this our way, okay?”

“Okay, but if you change your mind ….”

“I promise, if we change our minds, you’ll be the first one to know.”

***************************

“Maybe we should just elope,” Finn said one night after dinner.

Poe put aside his data pad. “What now?” He knew Finn was getting exasperated by all the attention, but secretly, Poe thought it was kind of nice. After being on the run for so long, worrying about whether they’d even be alive the next day, everyone was enjoying having something positive to plan for. It was making people happy and after years of oppression under the First Order, they deserved a little happiness.

“Nothing in particular,” Finn admitted. “I’m just tired of everyone making such a big deal out of this.”

Poe pretended to be upset. “Gee, thanks.”

Finn practically fell over himself apologizing. “Oh, no, babe, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, this is a big deal, but for us, not for everyone else.”

Poe laughed and slipped his arms around Finn. “I know what you meant,” he said softly. “And you’re right, this is a big deal. Which is why I came up with another of my brilliant ideas.”

Finn shook his head, but he already had one hand entwined in Poe’s hair and Poe knew he would agree to whatever wild scheme he’d come up with this time. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah, I think you’re actually going to like this one,” Poe replied with a smirk, which Finn promptly kissed off his face. It was quite a while before they continued their conversation, and when they did, Finn had to agree that this time, Poe was on to something.

********************************

Rey quietly stocked the hold of the Millenium Falcon with the supplies they would need. She’d had to let Chewie in on the secret but the Wookiee was a hopeless romantic, so he’d willingly agreed to help. The only other being in on the plan was BB-8, and Rey tried to keep the droid on board the Falcon as much as possible so it wouldn’t let anything slip to the other astromech droids. If even one member of Black Squadron caught wind of Poe’s “brilliant idea” the loth-cat would be out of the bag.

Finally, everything was set. A select few people had been summoned to Yavin 4 for various reasons over the past week, and Rey had gotten a comm from Poe’s father, Kes, letting her know that he was ready for them. Chewie prepped the Falcon for launch, while Rey surreptitiously snagged Finn from a briefing that had been going on far too long.

“General, can I speak to you for a moment?” She had an old Jedi scroll in her hand, which was usually enough to make everyone else suddenly find something else to do. Finn was the only one who had the inclination and patience to sit down with her and tease out the meanings of the ancient writings.

“Of course, Rey. Excuse me, everyone.”

As the door closed behind them, he whispered, “Is it a go?”

“Yep. Just got the comm from Kes. Chewie sent BB-8 to fetch Poe.”

They walked slowly toward the landing pad where the Falcon rested. No one should suspect anything, since Rey practically lived on board. Once they were inside the ship, Chewie sent a message to BB-8, and a few minutes later, Poe and the droid came up the ramp. Less than thirty minutes after Rey received the comm from Kes Dameron, they were in the air and on their way.

“Nervous?” Rey asked as the two men settled in at the holographic chess table. Chewie growled the same question from the cockpit.

“No,” said Poe.

“A little,” said Finn, simultaneously. They laughed.

“Well, maybe a little,” Poe admitted, reaching out to take Finn’s hand. He looked a little giddy; Finn looked a little sick. Rey slid into the bench and put her arm around Finn’s shoulders.

“It’s going to be fine,” she told him. “Kes will make sure everyone is there; all we need to do is show up.”

To allay any suspicions, she had been the one communicating with Kes to make all the preparations. Since she didn’t have an official rank within the Resistance, and was able to disappear for any length of time under the guise of “Jedi business,” it was easier for her to get away with it. She’d become quite fond of Poe’s father as they conspired together to pull off the perfect wedding, especially the amazing meals he prepared every time she snuck off to Yavin 4.

When they got closer to Yavin, Chewie warned them that they needed to change clothes. Rey slipped into the dress she’d smuggled aboard a few days ago. It was not her usual style, being rather flowy and definitely not something that was conducive to combat. The dark blue color matched the suits Poe and Finn would be wearing; they’d agreed that since it was going to be a small wedding, the wedding party should be small as well. Just her and Chewie, with BB-8 acting as ring bearer (since the droid had insisted it should have a part in the proceedings).

They landed on the field that Kes had just happened to have cleared three days ago, and walked into the strip of forest that lay between it and the house. A few minutes later, they stepped into the clearing around the Force Tree, which was shimmering in the evening gloom. The pathway that led up to the house was lined with softly glowing solar lanterns that hung from the branches of the trees and shrubs. Rey pinged Kes’ comm to alert him to their arrival.

****************

Kes felt the comm link ping in his pocket. Show time. He nodded to Mariana Djarin, who quietly started to round up her family. She, her husband, and their oldest son had come to Yavin 4 about three months ago; the rest of the family just happened to be visiting right now and they had stopped by Kes’ place for a visit on the very same day Black Squadron was there to talk to him about his son’s upcoming wedding. Quite a coincidence.

“Ah, shit,” Kess said as he passed by Jessica Pava.

“What?” She asked.

He shook his head. “The neighbor’s livestock must have got out again. I put a proximity alarm near the Force Tree because they were down there trying to eat it last month. He said he fixed the fence, but they must’ve broken through. I’ve got to go check.”

“Need help?”

“Sure. If it’s just one or two I can handle it, but if it’s the whole herd …”

“Hear that, Black Squadron? We’ve got a mission!” Pava laughed.

Just then there was a knock at the front door. Kes grumbled, “Now who could that be?” even though he knew full well it was Rose Tico, who had been sent to Yavin 4 three days ago and had just gotten an urgent message from Poe to check on his dad, who wasn’t answering his comms.

Kes opened the door, ushered her in, and assured her he was fine, he’d dropped his comm in a puddle the other day and it was sporadically cutting out on him. Tico didn’t look convinced, but she played along. She suspects, he thought.

But for now, he rounded up Black Squadron, with Rose in tow, and they headed out to check on the Force Tree. No one remarked on the disappearance of the Djarin family, who frankly had been keeping to themselves once they realized they’d crashed Black Squadron’s visit. Kes led the way down the path, but as soon as they reached the lanterns, he felt Pava grab his arm.

“You set us up, Dameron,” she said.

Kes laughed. “Yes. You didn’t want to let them do this their way, so we had to resort to subterfuge.” He turned to them all and said, “My boys want you here with them, on this very special occasion, but they didn’t want the circus you were turning it into. So …”

He stepped off the path into the clearing, letting them see the group already gathered under the shelter of the Force Tree. The Djarin’s off to one side, a few close neighbors on the other, and in the center, Poe, Finn, Rey, Chewbacca and BB-8, looking quite pleased and rather embarrassed all at the same time.

*******************

Rey stood beside Chewie, who was already sniffling into a Wookie-sized handkerchief, as Poe and Finn stood in front of the assembled guests. She could feel the warm embrace of the Force envelop them all. She also felt the ethereal embrace of Ben’s arms around her, as he stood behind her, and the strong presence of Leia as she watched from across the clearing, a smile on her face and a tear in her eye.

“They look so happy,” Ben breathed in her ear. She knew no one else could see him, so she couldn’t do much more than lean back into him a bit, but it was enough.

Poe turned to the guests and said, “Thank you all for being here. And sorry if we had to trick you into being here, but quite honestly, some of you didn’t give us much choice. I’m looking at you, Black Squadron.” He smirked at his team, who despite all their meddling, really did want to see their leader happy. After the laughter died down, he turned to Finn and took both of his hands in his.

“Finn. Oh, Finn. The first time I saw you, I thought you were going to kill me, and at the time, I was ready to die. I’d accepted my fate, but fate had other plans for me. For us. Because the moment you took off that stormtrooper helmet and I saw your face, I .. I knew my life was about to go somewhere very special.”

Rey reached out and took Chewie’s hand.

“When I found you again on Tadokana … wearing my jacket, and looking a hell of a lot better in it than I ever did,” he winked, “I knew. When they brought you back from Starkiller Base half-dead … I knew. When you almost got yourself killed on Crait disobeying my direct order … I knew. I knew my life would not be complete without you in it.”

Chewie handed Rey his extra handkerchief, which she accepted gladly. Ben’s arms tightened around her.

“Poe,” Finn said. “The moment I saw you, something told me you were my chance. My chance not only to escape the First Order, but my chance at happiness. You gave me my name. Before you, I was just a number, a cog in the machinery, but you made me a person. You gave me everything I’d ever wanted, and things I didn’t even know existed. It started with a name, and a jacket,” everyone laughed, “and it went on from there. And even though I didn’t have anything to give in return, except my loyalty and my heart, I gave them gladly. Because without you, I’m nothing.”

Chewie let out a gentle roar and blew his nose.

BB-8 rolled forward, holding out the rings on one of its servo arms.

“Thanks, buddy,” Poe said, patting the droid on the head. He slid one ring onto Finn’s hand, then held out his own hand. Finn slipped the other ring onto Poe’s finger, then grabbed his face and pulled him into a tender kiss.

Now it was Rey’s turn to blow her nose. Even Ben was sniffling a bit and she jabbed him with her elbow, which made him chuckle.

Kes stepped forward then and said, “Well, I think it’s official. I have two sons now!”

Everyone cheered and the Force Tree shivered, releasing a shower of delicate leaves and petals over them. Poe and Finn didn’t even notice, so lost were they in each other’s eyes.

****************************

“He’s here, isn’t he?” Poe asked Finn a while later, nodding toward Rey, who stood a the edge of the group.

“Yeah,” Finn said. “I can’t see him very clearly; probably couldn’t see him at all if we weren’t under the Tree, but he’s with her.” He squeezed Poe’s hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Poe said. “I am. I’m glad she’s not alone.” He slid his hand around the back of Finn’s neck. “Never thought I’d be happy to have Kylo Ren at my wedding, but hey, it’s a whole new galaxy now, isn’t it, General Dameron?”

“Damn right, General Dameron,” Finn said before he kissed his husband. As their lips parted, he whispered, “Leia’s here, too. I can see her very clearly, and she looks … beautiful.”

Poe sighed. “I’m glad she’s here, but I wish … I wish my mom was here.”

“She is,” Finn said, pulling the necklace out from under his shirt. “She’s always with us.” They held Shara’s ring together, their fingers entwined.

“Come on,” Poe said suddenly, grabbing Finn’s other hand and ducking behind the Force Tree.

“What … where are we going?” Finn would gladly follow wherever Poe led, but should they really be abandoning their guests so soon?

“Just come on.” They plunged into the trees, then through a field of half-grown crops. Poe was making a beeline for something, and after about a half mile, Finn started to suspect what it was.

They reached a low hill on the outskirts of the settlement, surrounded by a stone wall. Poe didn’t even bother going to the gate; he hopped the wall and Finn went after him. They stopped in front of a grave with a modest marker that read simply: Shara Bey, beloved wife and mother.

“Hey, Ma,” Poe said. “I want you to meet someone. This is my husband, Finn. I gave him your ring because … because …”

Finn wrapped his arms around him. “You can do this, babe,” he whispered.

Poe nodded and cleared his throat. “I gave him your ring because I finally found someone who means as much to me as you and Dad do. You told me I’d know when the right person came along.” He laughed. “Not the right girl, the right person. It’s like you knew Finn would be out there waiting for me.”

“Shara,” Finn said. “I never got the chance to meet you, but I feel like I know you, because I can feel your love for Poe every time I touch your ring … our ring. And I see you in his eyes, that passion for the stars that lights him up like a supernova. I wish I’d had the chance to meet you, but even so, I’m very proud to be your son-in-law, and to call you my mother. I … I don’t remember my own parents, so you and Kes are all I’ve got in that department.”

Now it was Poe’s turn to comfort him. “That was fucking beautiful,” he whispered in Finn’s ear. “You should write poetry if this whole General of the Resistance thing doesn’t work out.”

“And what are you going to do, if the whole General of the Resistance thing doesn’t work out?”

“Be your muse, of course. Every great poet has to have something beautiful to inspire them.” The tender moment had passed, and Poe was back to his sarcastic self. Finn laughed.

“Did I ever tell you I love how modest you are?”

“Why should I be modest? I’m the best pilot in the galaxy, handpicked by Leia Organa herself to lead the Resistance … and I have the best, bravest, handsomest, sexiest Jedi husband in the entire universe. I’ve got it all, babe.”

“Rey was right.”

“About what?”

“You do have an ego the size of a small nebula.” He kissed Poe’s nose. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

************************

By the time they got back to the Force Tree, the party was in full swing. Rey and Mirdala Djarin were trying to get Ad’ika down from the Force Tree, where he sat on a low hanging limb, laughing at everyone. Rose had rigged up some speakers to a data pad, so there was music playing, and Kes had laid out some food as well as a good selection of beverages.

“Where’d you two disappear to?” Rose demanded. “Kes won’t let us break into the booze until he gets to do a toast.”

“Sorry,” Finn said. “We had something we needed to do.”

Suralinda and Jessica almost fell over with laughter. “I’ll just bet you did,” Jessica said, winking.

Poe just rolled his eyes. “Get your minds out of the gutter, ladies,” he said, as he grabbed Finn’s ass. This prompted a surprised yelp from Finn and more gales of laughter from the women.

The rest of the evening flew by in a blur of food, dancing, and alcohol. Kes made sure everyone had enough to eat. The kids fell asleep amidst piles of leaves from the Tree. Poe stumbled across Din and Mariana Djarin making out in the shrubbery, much to the delight of Chewbacca, who then launched into the story of the time he’d babysat Ad’ika so they could have some “grown-up time.”

By the time the sun came up, the food was gone, the bottles were empty, and the battery on the data pad had run down. Kes herded everyone up to the house, where they fell asleep wherever they could. One by one, as people woke (or sobered) up, they drifted off until only the three Dameron men were left in the house.

“We’ll clean up, Dad,” Poe said. “You just relax.”

“No, you guys are technically on your honeymoon,” Kes said. “You shouldn’t have to do anything.”

Finn shook his head and pushed his father-in-law back into his chair. “Nope. You’ve done enough, Kes. We’ve got this.”

Kes allowed himself to be talked into it. “Okay,” he said, “but only if you promise to start calling me Dad, too.”

“Got it, Dad,” Finn replied. As Kes dozed off in his armchair, the two Generals of the Resistance swept and mopped and washed dishes and aired out all the spare blankets that had ended up strewn all over the house. By evening, the house was back in order and Kes was in the kitchen whipping up something for supper.

Finn and Poe settled on the bench on the back porch to watch the sun go down. “So, how do you like married life so far?” Poe murmured in Finn’s ear.

“Not much different from being a General, actually,” Finn said. “I think I’m pretty good at it.” He wrapped his arms around Poe, kissing the top of his head.

“You are the best husband I’ve ever had,” Poe agreed.

“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had,” Finn pointed out. “But I’ll take it.”

They snuggled on the bench until Kes poked his head out the door. “Supper’s ready,”

“Be right there, Dad,” Finn said. He poked Poe in the side. “Come on, get off me, it’s time to eat.”

“You’re bossy,” Poe complained. “Why did I marry you, again?”

“I’ll remind you tonight,” Finn said. Poe actually blushed, which made Finn laugh. “Now let’s eat.” He shoved Poe off his lap and stood up. He held out his hand, and Poe took it, just like he had the first day they met, and would for the rest of their lives.

[enkisstories]

The match's pace then changed. The "Star Destroyer" stopped merely defending against the "X-Wing" and fought back at his full skill level.

A couple of times the audience gasped, when Armitage was close to disarming Rose, but she pushed through and eventually delivered the "killing" blow.

But then...

...the moment the red lightsaber left Armitage's hand, thus fulfilling the victory condition, the yellow one de-ignited. Unfortunately that, too, fulfilled the victory condition.

A weapons malfunction. In the moment of triumph.

"A draw", the announcer whispered into their microphone, then repeated it louder: "The match has ended in a draw! Winners of the first lighsaber tournament, category non force sensitives, are Rose Tico and Armitage Hux! But from what we've seen in town, these two won't mind sharing their new landspeeder, haha! Be sure to tell us where you’re going to drive for your victory date, you two!"

Armitage: "I heard a brizzle before the saber went out... You short-circuited it with your shock pad!"

Rose: "But no one else noticed or needs to know. The cute couple won the tournament together. That's the story Black Spire will remember. The kind of story the world needs."

Rose: "Now listen! You were right, there will be people who will hold your half of our shared victory against you, and who will never accept you back into society. But I promise to protect you. I will be the shield from behind which you fire. I'll be the blade that cuts down our enemies, while you build our home. And we will be happy."

---

Note: A glitch at the perfect moment. Normally the winning sim towers over the loser with a fully extended lightsaber.

[girl-among-mts]

Part One

Rose Tico landed on Coruscant in the midst of a hard-beating rainstorm, the loud drumming against the ship's hull almost enough to drown out her nerves as she gathered her holoflimsy and heavy travel bag.

The talks were scheduled only to last a few days, but she’d packed for a week. She was determined to stay as long as possible if it meant coming to a final agreement.

Shrugging a jacket over her Resistance-issue uniform, Rose took to the ship’s ramp, collar turned up against the lashing rain as she exited down onto the landing pad

Across the tarmac, shielded by an overhang, three figures loitered, particularly illuminated by the strips of lights underneath the durasteel awning.

Senator Solo stood in silence flanked by his notorious bodyguard, a Jedi woman. The third figure, well, Rose would know that sneering face anywhere; the other interested party in their ‘negotiations’. Armitage Hux, once a high-ranking General of the First Order, now Grand Marshall. It was rumored he’d murdered his only other rival for the position, Allegiant General Pryde, but Rose had never seen the intel confirmed.

The man’s lip curled up as she approached.

“Late,” he sneered, “as usual.”

Rose ignored him as she took the Senator’s outstretched hand in greeting.

“Thank you for arranging this,” she said.

Solo smiled faintly. “The Resistance and the First Order have fought long enough. Many are eager to bring peace to the Outer Rim. I’m only happy to help.”

“No doubt any achievement in that regard would serve to boost your own position, Senator.” Hux sniffed. “I suppose I can admire such shrewd tactics.”

Solo shot Hux a dark look, but Rose had to agree with the General. It was doubtful the man had agreed to be the arbiter of their potential peace deal out of the goodness of his own heart.

Before the two men could start arguing, Rose cut in.

“Look, can we have this little ego-measuring contest somewhere a bit drier?” She felt a rivulet of rainwater slip down the back of her collar.

“I’m kriffing soaked here!”

The Jedi flashed her an amused grin before the Senator bid them all to follow him deeper into the city.

[issela-santina]

ok here we go, these are just my thoughts and nothing else

I liked The Last Jedi, I think it was quite spectacular + Rose Tico is my personal blorbo because I barely see Asian women in this movie franchise

peanut butter has only ever tasted ok to me as an ingredient in e.g. kare-kare and probably pad Thai but never elsewhere, and it's so weird because I actually like peanuts but not peanut butter

if you want to go Dadaist with tattoos go do it on your own body and with your own writing systems please

social media nearly killed email á la “video killed the radio star” so I don't really oppose it

I have been eating and even making pineapple pizza since before this debate went online abd I'm not turning my back on it now or ever; also pineapple goes well with pork

coming from someone who witnessed a mountain being literally carved out for dolomite just so it can be used as fake sand for a fake beach in a tiny fraction of the Manila Bay, it's time we trashed our love for sandy beaches and focused on growing mangroves where applicable

how hot is too hot though? like what's your limit? when my local heat index goes upwards of 40°C or 100°F I just want to sleep until the sun is done shining

bonus point: I think wintermelon milk tea is overrated

[pencilscratchins]

some rose sketches because she’s my everything actually [ID: Three drawings of Rose Tico from Star Wars against simple light green shapes. The first, she’s standing with a pad against her chest as she points up, with Rose Tico Icon written above. The next is Rose, with her arm against the back of Poe, who has his arm around her neck as they stumble drunkenly singing tunelessly, with “Rose & Poe best friend supremacy” and “over achieving gay and productive bisexual solidarity” scribbled next to them. The last is Rose working on something on a mechanic slide covered in grease with “ref: iStock”. /END ID]

[mesmeret]

Rose sees the standstill traffic on Google Maps when she enters the coordinates the dispatcher gave her. She sighs under her breath. There’s no work around to get to the stalled out truck that caused three accidents around it as people were trying to avoid it. So Hux must be there. She at least has that to look forward to. But hearing her cousins confirm they’re on their way to address one of the additional accidents? She’s gonna be as red as Hux’s hair by the time it’s over! Her cousins love to tease her and Hux. Well, they tease everyone.

She slowly rides the shoulder with her lights flashing when she can and deals with the clumsy ballet of irate drivers. Twenty minutes later, she sees Hux and two highway cop cars addressing the scene. He looks up at her and she wants to tear up at how beautiful he looks in the sunset. But this isn’t time for wistfulness. She’s assessing the scene and reporting in to her cousins. They’re due to arrive in ten minutes.

Hux huffs under his breath as she asks how he’s doing. His fellow patrolmen are radioing in their reports so he whispers, “We should still have time to catch a midnight screening tonight. If you’re still interested?”

She nods and is about to speak but the truck driver has noticed she is indeed the tow truck driver. The guy is yelling at her to get a move on. She grumbles under her breath as she keeps her perma-smile on.

Dude hasn’t maintained his truck at all and she does have to tow it to the yard. Rey will do a full TLC spa day for the poor truck. Rose tries to calm the guy down with a promise of a discount. She senses he’s more embarrassed by the chaos caused around them than anything else. He’s quiet in the passenger seat as she gets them to the yard. She offers a charging cable for his phone. He frowns at her but accepts it. She then offers control of the radio/aux cord. He accepts and they listen to the start of a baseball game.

By the time his buddy picks him up, he’s wishing her a great night with her man and she’s wishing him luck with work and remembering to take care of his truck!

———

Hux shows up to Rose's apartment at 10:30 pm. Her neighbors are familiar with her odd hours but he still sees a few peak out to check on who is knocking at Ms. Tico's door. He secretly wishes to tell them not to worry, that he'll soon be their neighbor. But that's awfully bold of him. Plus she might want to move out when her lease ends. Either way, they are not moving into the bachelor pad that he's been sharing with two other first responders.

She answers the door with her smile just for him and it gives him more energy than the 45 minutes power nap when he got home from shift. She's already in her heeled motorcycle boots and coat. She nudges him out of the way so she can lock up. He chuckles, "What a warm welcome."

"Oh, hush. I saw you like less than three hours ago!" Rose nudges him as she puts her keys away in her purse. She's dressed up for date night and Hux internally punches himself for antagonizing her, not complimenting. But then she twirls and curtsies, waiting for his words.

"Very pretty. You got the skirt last week?" Hux berates himself for staying conversational. But then again the walls of the apartments are thin and he doesn't want Rose to deal with neighbors knowing exactly what he wants to do with said skirt. He'll be able to whisper those words when they're on their way back home from the movie.

"Yeah! It's motorcycle safe!" Rose grins seemingly knowing his thoughts. He blushes as they approach his bike. He rubs the little rose sticker on the side out of habit before looking at her, "Want to be in front?"

Rose nods and puts her purse in the storage compartment before putting on her helmet. He puts his helmet on and straddles his bike behind her. With absolute trust, he lets her take them to a small fro yo place that's open late. They chat about the retro sci-fi movie they're going to see at midnight. It's suddenly fifteen minutes before the movie starts and they're rushing to the theater. Hux holds onto Rose as she toes the 5 miles past the speed limit line. They get into the theater just in time and settle in to watch.

Hux spends the remainder of the night at Rose's and the neighbors are well aware of it.

[babbushka]

Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch.1)

                                –      A Lawyer AU      –

You and Kylo Ren have hated one another for as long as you can remember. He, a criminal prosecutor, and you, a defense attorney should be natural-born enemies, and you are. But when Kylo comes to you seeking representation after being charged for a murder he didn’t commit, you both learn a thing or two about life, the law, and love…

[5k, no warnings for this first chapter!] 

Available on AO3

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In a world of ever-changing circumstances, where people do things that cause ripples and shocks through the very fabric of society that shake them to their core, where the sun shines and rain falls and snow blows cold through the streets of Manhattan, where there is life and death and a mess of bullshit in between, there was but one thing that you could ever comfortably rely on in life.

Only one thing remained constant in the grand scheme of it all: your alarm.

With a grunt and sigh, your arm extends out from underneath the covers to smack at the loud blaring jingle that sounds from your phone, hand desperately trying to hit the dismiss button without looking so that you don’t have to face the day just yet. It’s too early, you reason, to pull your whole self out from under the covers.

Eventually you give that thought up though, because dammit now you’re awake and it’s Monday morning and you have an office that’s waiting for you uptown. So, ever grudgingly, you throw the plush comforter off of your body and stretch to greet the day, saying good morning to the city that never sleeps.

You don’t usually dread waking up, but well, the last time you’d been in the office was Friday afternoon, after you lost your case.

After you lost your case, to him.

Glancing at the clock on your phone, you chew your lip for a moment or two, before finally turning off the do not disturb function, immediately going into the bathroom to shower and ready yourself for the day while damn near a hundred backlogged notifications make your phone buzz nearly onto the floor.

There’s a small mirror in the shower, a little compact to make sure there’s nothing left on your face after you scrub your skin clean, and you catch your own reflection in it. You’ve looked better, that was for damn sure – but by that same token, you’ve also looked worse. Mondays were shit, but today was gearing up to be an even worse one than normal.

No, you think as you shake your head adamantly, you have no desire to let him soak up any more of your good mood than he had already. So what if you had forgone your entire weekend, canceling plans and ignoring friends to nurse the sting to your pride that was losing? So what if instead of checking your email or your phone, you sat yourself on the couch and wasted two entire days doing nothing but watching shitty shows on Netflix?

What you did on your downtime was nobodies’ business, and since you live alone in your beautiful one-bedroom in SoHo, no one was there to spill your secrets. If anyone asked – not that anyone would, if they knew what was good for them – you would tell them that you absolutely did not spend the weekend wanting to throw darts onto a photo of his face. That wouldn’t be very professional, now would it?

Shutting off the water, you wrap yourself up in a big plush towel, and pad across the floor to your closet. Briefly, ever so briefly, you glance at your phone on your way, holding your breath, wondering, hoping that there might be something from him.

If there is, it’s buried under a pile of emails and text-threads from your firm, so he’ll have to wait.

Manhattan in January was chilly, so you bundle yourself up in your chicest coat overtop your most well-fitting skirt suit and a pair of heeled boots. Even if you felt like shit, you could look like million fuckin’ bucks, and no one would be the wiser.

And what a wonder the power of confidence was! Through the streets and down to the subway, you smiled at everyone, and they all smiled back. You offered your seat on the train to an elderly man who clearly needed it more than you, and he complimented your gloves. Everyone from the NYPD officer drinking his coffee to the mom scolding her three children brightened as you wished them a good morning, and somehow, along the way to work, your Monday blues disappears into something a little brighter.

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Your good mood only continues to grow as you exit the elevator of the huge high-rise that you call your home away from home, your office on the twenty-third floor right in the heart of the Upper West Side. Sandwiched between the Hudson and Central Park, you have to admit that getting your ass out of bed was worth it, even if just for this view.

“Morning (Y/N).” The front desk security guard greets you, and you say hello back to him with a performative show of your badge.

HKS Law, so named after the founders and current partners Amilyn Holdo, Ben Kenobi, and Luke Skywalker, is a shining pinnacle of what defense attorneys and opposing counsel at trials should be. Not only had the firm made history time and time again with incredible wins and even more incredible ultimate losses, but it prided itself on being representation for the people no one else could represent.

Most of all, it had you.

If your alarm was a constant, than this was a universal truth: you are a damn good defense attorney. As you walk through the crisp and clean polished floors, you hold your head high, knowing that this loss against him still put you at the lowest loss rate of anyone in the history of HKS, lower than even the founders themselves.

That little reminder has you grinning to yourself. You’d been working with HKS for nearly six years now, and very quickly you saw your office climbing higher and higher up the skyscraper, saw it getting bigger and bigger. And now, you were nearly positive, that your meeting at eleven o’clock would be to discuss partnership with the firm as a reward for your continued hard work.

“Hey (Y/N)!” One of the associates, Rose Tico smiles at you from where she’s chatting with her sister Paige by their desks.  

“Someone looks like they had a nice weekend.” Paige remarks, and you only wink at them, playing the game.

A game, which becomes instantly easier as your assistant, a bright-eyed intern fresh out of law school appears seemingly out of nowhere.

“(Y/N), good morning!” She is already offering you a cup of something nice and hot, her arm cradling a stack of manilla folders that have all sorts of sticky-note flags on them, that she shifts onto her hip ever so slightly to brush a few loose braids out of her face, speaking at what feels like a million miles a second, “I have your coffee ready and there’s a fresh breakfast buffet in the break room if you’d like, I can get you something – ”

“Good morning Neisha.” You accept the coffee gratefully, but interrupting her only to give her a chance to catch her breath. You check your watch, it’s only half-past seven, she’ll wear herself out if she exerts that much energy first thing. “A bagel with the usual would be perfect, thank you.”

“No problem – oh, Rick wanted you to look over those case files before your eleven-o’clock.” She breathes a sigh of relief, and gives you a smile.

Groaning, you accept the manilla folders too, balancing the coffee cup on top of them as Iman follows you into your own private office. Your assistant stands in front of your desk at the ready, looking sharp and put together, as ever.

One thing that you loved about Neisha – aside from the dozens of things that you admired and appreciated about her – was that you have never ever seen her in something other than a pantsuit. She did not wear dresses or skirts, she was almost never in heels, and she did not carry a purse. Instead, Neisha could almost always be found in a very smart trouser and blazer set, often complete with vests, and fun-colored socks in her loafers to coordinate with her ever-expanding collection of ties.

“Rick can go fuck himself.” You mutter under your breath, and she laughs.

“Should I tell him you said that?” With a playful glimmer in her eye, she crosses her arms over her broad chest.

“Yes.” You wink, before checking your watch once again and reminding her about that, “Bagel?”

“Bagel – right, on it.” Neisha snaps her fingers and leaves, closing the office door behind her.

 You like your office, even if you’ve outgrown it. Much like the rest of the firm, it has stayed up to date with the contemporary interior design of the day. However where the open floor of the firm is mostly whites and silvers and glass, your office feels warmer with shades of coffee browns and creamy neutrals. 

Remembering how you had been so excited for the promotion to your own office, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself now – it really was a small office. It consisted of a long dark brown desk situated in front of a wall-unit bookshelf/display area, and a seating arrangement of matching brown chairs situated around a free-edge wooden coffee-table. A soft rug covers the marble flooring, and cream gauzy curtains cover the windows, but that was about it.

You had been to the offices of the higher ups, you knew just what you could achieve if you made partner – even if you made junior partner.

And if all went well during this meeting at eleven, you knew you’d be moving into one of those offices soon.

For the first time all weekend, you sit down in the big leather chair behind your desk and finally check your phone. The case files remain on your desk, and you know you’ll get to them eventually, but until you’ve had some breakfast and that coffee can work its magic, no one could blame you for scrolling through the shit that you had put off since Friday.

It’s mostly work friends taking your side, which you appreciate. They knew losing a case was hard for you – you didn’t do it very often. And even though you never lost to anyone besides him, it still never got easier.

The case had been a simple one, or at least, you had thought so. Murders are so often simple, either the person did it, or they didn’t. If they did, there’s evidence, and if they didn’t, well, there’s evidence too. And when two parties come forward with their own evidence, compelling, strong fucking evidence – evidence of alibis and proof that your client couldn’t have been there, couldn’t have done it – it’s up to the jury to decide who to believe.

In this case, this jury decided to believe him, and there was nothing you could do about it. It was losses like this, losses like the knowledge than an innocent man was going to prison, that make you seriously question the legal system as a whole, frankly.

It’s then that you see it, and your hand freezes.

You have a missed message from him.

He’s saved in your contacts as the dick from VTH, and even though that could refer to any number of people, you know that it’s him. You have five missed messages from him, as a matter of fact, which sends both a rush of adrenaline through you, as well as a spike of anxiety.

The two of you…you’d never been friends, not really. In fact, the closest thing to a relationship that you might have is that of a rivalry, if not flat out enemies. You hated him, and he hated you, and he had hated you ever since the first day he set eyes on you, from the very first moment you walked into the courtroom as a last-minute addition to the defense counsel, and won the case in fifteen minutes.

Which was a shame, because you often find yourself thinking that if he weren’t such a…well, a dick, there could have been something there. Instead of a friendship, or even a civil acquaintanceship, you have over the years developed something of a hate-fucking-enemies-with-benefits arrangement. He was probably pissed that you ignored him all weekend, but that was okay – let him be pissed, you were pissed too.

You don’t open his messages, not yet. You’d need coffee in you and food in your stomach before you’re able to handle whatever mood he has to be in, now that you’ve got the energy to deal with him.

You’re so deep in thought that you nearly miss when Neisha returns with a plate for you, a big spread arranged on your desk for you to enjoy. You’re about to thank her and let her get on with whatever work she has to do, but she holds out a newsletter with a devious smile and curiosity gets the better of you.

“Have you seen?” She asks, and you raise a brow, a smile of your own creeping across your face.

The newsletter was something that circulated through the different firms in the area, keeping everyone up to date – or at least as up to date as legally possible – on the goings on in the sphere of influence that you all found yourselves in. Everything from congratulatory memos to case results, and even high profile celebrity gossip was fair game, but one of the more scandalous parts of the newsletter, was the publication of trouble that various lawyers found themselves in.

The Monday morning newsletter had quite a bit of this from over the weekend, and right there on page sixteen, is none other than his face looking as irritated as he possibly can, as he’s being given a hard time for a DUI on Friday night.

“Oh fuck.” Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to call him and yell at him for being a fucking idiot, “What the hell does he think he’s doing?”

“Whatever he wants, evidently.” Neisha shrugs, no doubt thinking the news would cheer you up in some sort of vengeful way that you appreciate. She reaches for a pumpernickel crisp from the spread on your desk and muses, “I bet the cops are thrilled, they hate that sonofabitch.”

“Yeah them and me both.” You mutter, already rubbing away a headache that’s starting to form across the expanse of your forehead. “He’s not going to be pleased about that photo, he looks rumpled.”

Sighing, you look down at the photo. He’s very clearly intoxicated, you’ve seen that look in his eyes more than once, the blurry out of focused glassy look that he gives you over smiles at dinner sometimes. You blink away the image of him in a nice suit on the other end of a table, reminding yourself that you’re angry with him.

“Doesn’t he have a driver? I wonder why he got behind the wheel himself.” Neisha continues, and bless her you think, for continually giving you a means to not be left alone with your thoughts.

“If there’s one thing I know about that man, it’s that when he sets him mind to something, no one is going to stop him from doing it.” You reply, not able to ignore a bit of gut-wrenching regret.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so mad at him, you could’ve gone with him to wherever he was coming back from, and maybe you could’ve --

“Should I have this framed?” Neisha asks, and you blink again.

You check your watch, it’s only a quarter ‘til eight. Have you really only been at work for fifteen minutes? That stack of folders sits on the edge of your desk, taunting you. You’re gearing up for an extra long day.

“No, that’s okay.” You shake your head, opening the bottom drawer of your desk and dropping the newsletter into it. “I will keep a hold onto it though. Just for fun.”

With a laugh, Neisha leaves and once again closes your office door.

“God dammit.” You grumble, pulling your phone out yet again.

The unread messages from him sit buried beneath thirty other messages that don’t warrant responses, and you hover your thumb over his name.

After all these years, something about getting a text from him made your heart jump. It felt stupid, you weren’t some teenager with a crush in high school, you were an adult, and this was just another adult, who you happened to have developed some sort of attachment to. Not a friendship, or a relationship even, but some kind of attachment.

Right now, you wanted to bitch at him for getting himself into trouble, for driving while he was so very clearly drunk, a whole argument prepared about how he could have seriously hurt or even killed someone, how even though he’s a rich asshole he can’t afford to be so reckless.

But first, in order to bitch at him, you have to read what he’s sent you over the weekend, and that’s where you keep tripping up. You don’t know why, but when you do finally open up his texts, you find that you’re holding your breath until you read them.

You try to ignore the way the thread starts out, try to ignore how if anyone were to squint, they might think something was going on between you two.

 Incoming: [1/8 6:03am] just picking up croissants from that place u like. jam?

[1/8 6:10am] Yeah, raspberry if they have

Incoming: [1/8 6:11am] on it, go back 2 bed.

 That had been just over a week ago, and you remember the day well, how you exchanged smiles over bites of fresh and flaky pastry, how you had dipped the croissants into hot chocolate in his bed, not giving a fuck about the crumbs that weren’t your problem because they weren’t your sheets.

How that was the last time you had seen him, before the conclusion of the case.

Now, now that you’d lost, the tone of the thread has very clearly shifted to something much colder. One thing you’re surprised to see though, is that they’re all from around Friday night, which was unusual.

 Incoming: [1/15 7:43pm] going out 2 celebrate tonight, join me

Incoming: [1/15 8:57pm] u can’t ignore me forever u know

Incoming: [1/16 12:02am] i’m glad u didn’t come, ud fucking hate it here. theyre playing music 2 loud

Incoming: [1/16 12:15am] r u seriously still mad?

Incoming: [1/16 1:09am] Fuck you.

 Rolling your eyes, you rub away more of that headache that starts to form. It was weird that he didn’t text you at all for the whole day of Saturday, or Sunday for that matter. If you didn’t spend the weekend together, he was very content to simply blow your phone up with links to random bullshit or long text conversations in broken grammar because his thumbs were too big for the buttons.

So for there to be radio silence after one o’clock in the morning was strange.

“For fucks sake.” You find yourself texting him back without even thinking about it, your fingers moving over the keyboard easily and quickly, sending off a slightly antagonizing reply after two days of nothing;

 [1/18 7:55am] Looks like you had quite the night on Friday.

 There, you think. That should get a response out of him. No doubt he would be quick to complain about how he had been pulled over and the whole nine yards. You wait for it to come through, the text. Or more accurately, the string of impassioned paragraphs that he tends to send you.

But a minute go by, and there’s nothing.

Five minutes, and nothing still.

You know you have to work, you have shit to do, you have that big meeting in a couple hours that you have to mentally prepare for, there’s no time to be worrying about him not texting you back. Still, you don’t like the silence. Sure that makes you a hypocrite, but he deserved your cold shoulder for beating you in court. At least, that’s how you justify it for yourself.

Getting up from your desk, you hover in the doorframe, where your assistant’s desk sits just outside to act as a buffer for anyone wanting to bother you.

“Hey Neisha?” You ask quietly, getting her attention, “I haven’t missed any calls, have I?”

A crease of confusion dips between her brows as she frowns, and immediately she checks the call logs on the conference phone that sits on her desk next to the big computer that takes up most of her space.

“No not that I can think of, are you expecting someone – ?”

Just as she’s asking, the phone rings. You lean over and see the number is one you don’t recognize, and you frown too.

“Better get that.” Neisha says awkwardly, so you just nod and retreat back into your own office from where you came.

It’s been seven minutes now, and there’s still nothing from him.

“Fine, fuck you too.” You mutter at the phone, locking it and putting it in the shallow drawer of your desk so you can focus on the folders in front of you finally.

 The stack is pretty normal, all the weekend material finally coming in now that it’s the start of a new week. There’s new case files to look through to decide if you’re doing to accept the client, supplementary material from old case files that you’ve asked for to review, notes and evidence belonging to associates’ cases that you said you’d give your opinion on – all mixed into one big pile.

You liked it though, liked staying busy. It was a good distraction from a loss, the ability to win, the ability to prove to yourself and to the world that you’re good at what you do. There are all sorts of awards and pieces of paper displayed on the walls of your office that show that you’re good, but still, there’s nothing like a strong win after a frustrating loss.

But you’re not even halfway through reading the first folder, when Neisha knocks on your door and opens it slowly, a look of preemptive apology on her face.

“I’m afraid you’re going to need to cancel your eleven o’clock.” She says, and you can tell by the tone of her voice that there’s no use in trying to argue with her.

You let the folder fall down onto the desk, and brace yourself for whatever bombshell she’s about to drop on you, what could possibly be so important for you to have to reschedule one of the biggest meetings of your career. They would understand, you’re sure.

You hope, anyway.

“Who is it?” Your tone is already filled with dread, but a resigned kind of dread, knowing that whatever it must be, it has to be big, and you’re the only one in this entire fucking firm who can handle big things like this – it was the reason they wanted you for partner in the first place.

But Neisha hesitates with this response, scratches the back of her neck in a way that makes you instantly curious.

“I…I was instructed not to say, just that you’ve been requested to meet with them regarding representation.” She tells you, and now your headache pounds even harder.

Clients didn’t withhold their identity from you; some used an alias of course, but you can’t say that so far in your career you’ve had a completely anonymous client. Whoever this person was, had to either be royalty, or something very very close.

And though that meant there was going to be a nightmare of a trial – because these high profile people almost never got to simple settle, not when the prosecutor wants to make a show of prosecuting them – you can’t help but think that would be a pretty good notch in your beltloop, as it were.

“Alright, where are they?” You’re already up and away from your desk, shuffling the case files into a locked cabinet.

“Rikers.” She says straight away, and you let out a groan.

“Of course they are.”

You had almost hoped that whoever this mystery client was, they had posted bail and could meet at a nice neutral location. You didn’t have anything against Rikers personally, but rather the entire prison industrial complex as a whole, and as far as New York prisons went, there were few more infamous for being unnecessarily brutal than Rikers Island.

“I can call them back and tell them you’re busy…but they sounded adamant about wanting you in particular.” Neisha nudges gently, and really there’s no need to butter you up, you’ve already made up your mind.

“I’m guessing they didn’t tell you why?” You ask, even though you know the answer.

“Correct.” She replies with a sheepish shrug.

You look at her, at your watch, at your phone screen which shows no new notifications from the last time that you checked it, and you square your shoulders.  

“Alright, reschedule the eleven o’clock, and let’s get out of here before Holdo freaks the fuck out on me for that.” You say, grabbing your coffee and a few more of the pastries to take in the car with you for the drive.

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Most times, you have no problem taking the subway wherever you need to get, but visiting Rikers wasn’t as easy as hopping off the train and walking a couple blocks. For times like these, you and Neisha take one of the company cars, a sleek and shiny black thing with dark tinted windows. Cars really aren’t practical in the city, which is why you don’t have one of your own, but it was nice to be driven around from time to time in the peace and quiet of a car like this.

Normally, visitors are not allowed on Mondays or Tuesdays, but you’re not a normal person, and you’re not here for a normal visit, so once you pass through the security gate, the K-9 unit and the metal detector security tests with ease, you find it a pretty quiet lobby.

“Good afternoon Ms. (L/N), here on official duty?” One of the correctional officers that sits up by the front visitation desk beams at you.

“No, I just missed you Jake.” You reply, fishing out your identification for him even though he really doesn’t need it. Jake has worked there only a year or so, and every time you see him you can’t help but think he’s young, too young for this job, you think, too young to become desensitized to the humanity of incarcerated individuals. But that’s not a conversation that you’re here to have today, so instead you keep up the chitchat with, “How’s Lottie and the kids?”

“They’re good, who are you here for?” Jake asks as a matter of protocol, and you give Neisha a look, before looking back at him.

“That’s just the thing, I don’t know. I wasn’t informed for confidentiality reasons.” You try to explain, before leaning forward and mock-whispering to him, “Please tell me someone has me on the list and I didn’t drive all this way for nothing.”

Jake laughs, a sound that feels out of place in a place like this, and pulls something up on his computer. You can’t really see it, the list, and that’s okay. Whoever this mysterious person is, you’ll find out within just a few minutes.

“You know the drill, they’re waiting for you in the back.” Jake waves you off, and you’re glad to go.

“Wait out here.” You tell Neisha, who clearly looks uncomfortable even being in the lobby, and with good reason. She doesn’t argue you on that, instead takes a seat on a bench near Jake’s table, and the two of them get to chatting while your boots click on the floors as you walk away.

There’s a couple different visitation areas in the jail, and the deeper into the building you go, the more that you’re glad that visitation isn’t allowed on Mondays. You don’t want the chance of running into someone that you had failed. Granted there had only been a handful of those instances, but the thought of any one of them being here is not outside the realm of possibility.

Through the sea of empty tables and chairs that are reserved for long term inmates who happen to have visitation privileges for good behavior, you find yourself moving deeper and deeper, until you’re at the door of another room, a closed off one more typical to that seen in movies and television shows.

Opening the door, you hang in the hallway to confirm that there’s no one else there, as there shouldn’t be. There’s eight stations, four on each side of the small room, with a phone and a pane of bulletproof glass. Right away, you have a feeling this is going to be a murder trial, if they’re not even letting you meet with the client out in the open, if they’re monitoring the phone conversation that you’re about to have.

You see a shuffle of movement out of the corner of your eye, and assume that that’s who you’re here to meet, so with your chin held high, you step into the room, and make your way to the visitation booth where a man in a bright orange jumpsuit is waiting on the other side of the glass.

Stopping as quickly as you’ve started, you stand frozen in the middle of the room, blinking away and desperately shoving aside a wave of feelings that have crashed over you at the familiar face behind the glass.

The dark hair, the deep eyes, that proud nose, those full lips, you take it all in with some strange sense of disbelief – surely this must be a dream? It has to be, even as you sit on the little stool and yank the phone off the wall, shoving it against your ear, not even knowing where to start as you try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man, this mystery client…

“Hey sweetheart.” He says, and you could smack him upside the head if only there weren’t this glass between you and Kylo Ren.

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

Tagging some pals, please let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off the taglist! @safarigirlsp​ @steeevienicks​ @mochabucky​ @sacklerscumrag​ @artsymaddie​ @bitchydecisions​ @direnightshade​ @reyloaddict55​ @kylorenswhxre​ @sunflowersinthesnow​ @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief​ @drake-bells-waxed-penis @littleevilme13 @rennaissance-mama @materialisthicc​ 

[gerdavonrinnlingen]

First Lines Tag

Tagged by @phelfromgrace - thank youuuu :D

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

Tagging: @tishinada, @pineaberry and @riajade01 ^^

1. Achromatic (Gingerrose, Spy Handler!Rose) Conspiracy meetings in seedy cantinas, breakneck chases through narrow urban canyons or at least mysterious meetings on foggy bridges - that's what Rose had envisioned when she had more or less begged General Organa to transfer her to the espionage department.

2. For a Fistful of Dollars (Gingerrose, Western AU) Fiery sparks flew up in the air, dancing like fireflies on a hot summer evening. Some returned into the red-hot fireplace, merging with the brightly glowing charcoal; others strayed from the fiery pit, landing on the cold floor, breathing out their short existence.

3. Deep Waters (Gingerpilot, Stranded) The first thing Poe noticed was the unmistakable stench of tibanna gas that filled the air of the cantina. It was the smell of cheap, low-quality blaster cartridges leaking gas. Stepping from the sweltering heat outside into the cool dive gave him goosebumps.

3. Never Alone (Gingerrose, Horror) Rose stared at her hands. They weren’t pretty. Short fingers, palms full of calluses and old cuts where her grip had slipped when using the hydrospanner, short, chewed off nails. She sighed and leaned against the wall of her cell, rubbing her wrists where there were bruises from the binders. It hurt, burned slightly when she brushed against the grazed skin, but she couldn’t stop touching it. 4. Edge of Night (Gingerrose, Spy!Hux) Rose felt a cold, desperate bead of sweat run down her back. An ashen taste spread in her mouth as she marched forward until she reached a door. It slid open with a low hissing sound. She stared at the dimly-lit hallway in front of her, slowed her step and gulped. There was a small door visible at the far end of it; that’s where they were going. Their final destination.

5. Red Salt (Gingerrose, Dark Fic) The air carried the scent of salt when Hux stepped out of the command shuttle; the sun beam reflected by the thin layer of salt on the ground made him squint. A mild, warm wind made the tails of his greatcoat flutter slightly. With the back of his gloved hand he wiped over his mouth and pulled the corners of his mouth down. He caught a whiff of oil, hot metal, and molten iron emanating from the Resistance Base in front of him, or rather from  the destruction of its blast doors.

6. Der Wolf und der Fuchs (Kylux, Smut) Hux tugged at his black leather glove, and straightened his back as he walked towards hangar 23. The only sound he heard were the heavy boots of the Stormtroopers following him. His Stormtroopers, he thought with satisfaction. He had finally arrived at the top… the Finalizer was a magnificent ship. He had gone over the technical specifications as soon as Snoke had promoted him to General. He brushed the two stripes on his greatcoat's sleeve. He shouldn’t allow himself to be proud – this was nothing, just another stepping stone.

7. Heterotopia (Gingerrose, Prisoner!Hux) The worst part was the humming. It wasn’t the scratchy clothes they had given him, nor the lack of privacy. It was the kriffing humming of the force field – the reddish energy wall was flickering slightly. Making a soft clicking sound every time the oscillator kicked in. Hux slowly opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling of his cell. It was painted in the red light of the force field, he could see the rivets above him.

8. Ginger Gears (Gingerrose, Spy!Rose) Rose wiped the sweat running down from her forehead away with the back of her hand. She put the hydro-spanner into her mouth and leaned down on the small rectangle hole in the floor. Behind her she could hear a mouse droid scurrying past her with its tell-tale beeping. She opened the top-most button of her dark grey First Order uniform. Finally she saw the chips she was looking for. With a few quick movements she had pulled them out of the energy node and replaced them with chips from her pocket.

9. The Robot and the Old Crank (Detroit Become Human, Friendship) Hank exhaled as he felt the heavy raindrops falling on his head, he waited for a moment before he opened his umbrella. His eyes burned from staring into the computer screen, perhaps he should’ve used the eye drops Jean had brought him years ago. Either that or he should get glasses like Bob Fowler … but Bob looked like a dork with them to be honest.

10. Photophobia (Gingerrose, Companion Piece) Seeing his subordinates working diligently while he stood calmly in the centre of the bridge of the Destructor was immensely satisfying – for a moment Hux almost felt content. Of course it didn’t last; the beeping of the priority comm channel startled everybody around him. Hux himself didn’t move, didn’t allow himself to show how much the call of this child irritated him.

11. The Cruellest Thing (Gingerrose, Companion Piece) Rose Tico used to daydream about all the heroic deeds she would accomplish when she first joined the Resistance. But it took her only a couple of days to realise that the rebels were already full on skilled pilots like her sister, hot-blooded daredevils and heroic leaders like Poe Dameron. They were in desperate need of grease monkeys though, people who could fix blasters, fighters and jammed doors to command centres.

12. Home (Finn/Rey/Hux, Body Switch) The lift doors slid open and revealed an surprisingly unostentatious throne room. There was red tapestry on the walls. The black throne and the lack of ornament were a stark contrast to the gaudy golden robes Snoke was wearing. Rey straightened herself and made her way towards the brightly lit centre of the room. Kylo Ren walked right behind her like an uncanny shadow. She could feel his gaze upon her and a cold shiver ran down her spine.

13. Ryloth: The Return of the Sith (SWTOR, SW/Vette/Quinn) Everything felt numb and cold. Slowly, very slowly an almost painful tingle spread through Badesh’s chest. The tingle became a burning pain that made him grit his teeth. He felt the urge to made the uncomfortable feeling stop, he wanted to push away whoever was tormenting him. But something hindered his movement, Badesh tried to focus and used the Force to… he almost blacked out from sheer exertion. Suddenly he was released and Badesh fell hard on a metallic floor.

14. Big Bet Game (SWTOR, Vette/Quinn) The waiter banged the glass with Tarisian ale carelessly on the table, the dark liquid spilled over and joined the other stains on the wooden surface. Quinn looked up from his data pad and turned up his mouth. The waiter sneered at him and left. Quinn put the pad away – there had been no messages from Agent Shan or Lord Saikrâm. He throat felt parched and he sighed while staring at the ale. With death-defying courage he lifted the slightly smudgy glass and took a gulp, the swill didn’t taste that bad to his surprise.

15. Requiem For A Dream (SWTOR, SW/Theron Shan) Theron rubbed his hands together while he waited for the large holo map to reveal the location of the mysterious super-weapon. Snowflakes swirled around him, he shivered a little when he felt the snow touch his scalp. He allowed himself to take another look of Copero – the beaches at the feet of the mountains, the shimmering ocean and the lush flora and of course the majestic Cling'geam'riro alps … but it gave him no joy.

16. Baggage from Iokath (SWTOR, SW/Quinn) Darth Naqâz was usually an eloquent man. During his tenure as the Emperors Wrath his sharp tongue had been as infamous as his deadly lightsaber. But his wit failed completely him when Lana Beniko introduced two would-be assassins who had snuck in into the Alliance base on Iokath. He just glanced at the blonde woman but when he set his eyes on the dark-haired man who was brought before him by Alliance soldiers his eyes widened and he gasped: It was none other than Malavai Quinn, his former second-in-command.

17. A Night on Tatooine (SWTOR, Vette/Quinn) 'Tatooine sunsets are without equal. What a pity that one must stand on the planet to see them' Quinn couldn’t remember where he had read those lines, but these words rang very true as he put a soothing gel on his sunburnt skin. He sighed as he saw his red face in the small oval mirror; he carefully applied gel on his cheeks and his nose when a loud banging on the bathroom door made him flinch.

18. Rogue Agent (SWTOR, SW/Theron Shan) The Manaan sun shone brightly, and Theron Shan squinted as he scanned the promenade for his contact. The salt hung heavy in the chilly air. Selkath and off-worlders walked past him. Out of habit he listened what they were talking about.

“… the next shipment of kolto is due in three days,” said a green-skinned female Twi’lek.

“Of course. After that we have to negotiate a new deal – the demand for kolto is rising,” the Selkath next to her said. “And with the recent attacks on Tython and Korriban …”

19. Sith Relics (SWTOR, SW/Quinn, Smut) Darth Naqâz left the ship’s training room, his robes were soaked from his sweat and were becoming more and more uncomfortable. He had hoped that a prolonged training session would help with his growing unease – but even after he had slashed his way through three training droids he couldn’t dispel the tension that had taken hold of him in the past week.

20. Time and what became of it (SWTOR, SW/Quinn) The shrill beeping of the chronometer rang through the room. Quinn exhaled and fumbled the shrieking device on his bedstand until he finally hit the off button. He closed his eyes for a moment before he finally got up. He slowly entered the tiny bathroom he had in his own personal quarters. Quinn activated the hydro tap and splashed water in his face. He looked at himself in the rectangular mirror above the washbasin. Had these lines in his face always been there? Or hadn’t he noticed before?

As for choosing my favorite opening line... that's hard - perhaps "Red Salt" or "For a Fistful of Dollars" because there are no hands people stare at xD

[elmidol]

It’s Not About You (NSFW)

Three Blind Tooke Part Three Death Is An Art

Read On AO3

Three Blind Tooke 

 Part Three: Death is an Art

 Chapter Sixty: It’s Not About You

 I second guess my life, my death;

I second guess saying it’s time to rest.

I don’t want to be the one to say goodbye,

I don’t want to give pain nor end your life.

 Rain trickled from the clouds in the overcast sky. The droplets drummed against the helmet that you wore, the sound echoing in your ears though it was distorted by the insulation that the gear provided. Superstitious individuals may have claimed that this was the heavens crying. Bodies were strewn across the battlefield. Ash dampened by the rain smeared with each step you took. The soot clung to your clothing the same as to that of the three Knights of Ren who had accompanied you. Alongside the shuttle that had carried your small crew were two transports of Force sensitive stormtroopers. Their red armor darkened with the filth. Weak flames were doused. They hissed in their death, smoke trails dancing along the sky.

 You walked through the filth and mud. Your boots stuck a handful of times, requiring you to exert more strength to keep moving. As you moved, your eyes shifted to take in the entirety of the devastation that lay before you. What had once been a Resistance Base was now a graveyard. Your lips parted behind your helmet; you were grateful for the mouthpiece with its filtration system that kept you from choking on the scent of death. Vicrul, having kept pace, turned and broke away from your side to investigate a new section. Meanwhile you lowered yourself down to one knee, genuflecting and touching three fingers to a singed jacket that was caked in gore. The untarnished portion contained a name, albeit one that was not intimately known by you.

Ap’lek had not been pulled from the bacta tank despite the passing of sixteen days. It was him you thought of as you traced the letters of the name on the jacket. There was a longing for him to be there. He would have had more of a connection to the dead that were present than any of these other three Knights. You would have felt less out of place. Not that your loyalties were questioned--Supreme Leader Kylo Ren would not have sanctioned this mission with you as lead if that were the case. He had walked amongst them, though, just as you had. These Resistance fighters and technicians who had been slaughtered by the First Order.

 The enlargement of the raindrops resulted in louder taps hitting off your helmet. The first one caused the fingers of your left hand to twitch. You curled the digits towards your palm then pulled away from the fallen Resistance fighter. Twisting at your torso, you considered the Order of Ren ‘troopers. Their objective was to locate and salvage any usable supplies and information that could assist in countering the First Order. The Knights of Ren were more focused on potential artifacts to do with the Force. That, and to protect you. It was unspoken, however you were not an idiot. Kylo would not have allowed you out of his sights without any of the Knights. Things were coming to a head in the war.

 Supreme Leader Armitage Hux had been targeting Force sensitives with the knowledge that they had been a part of a contingency plan by the late Emperor, ergo a threat to his power. The technological powers that had also been developed by the Empire to counter those capable of wielding the Force had been more to his liking. Palpatine had been greedy, hoping to keep the power to himself or to others that he could place under his control.

 Cardo journeyed past you to inspect another corpse that was a little over a yard away from your current location. You observed him with a growing sense of numbness. His hands skimmed along the body in search of anything useful. If he was looking for something specific, that had not been stated. He did shove a handful of things into a pouch that he had been carrying since arriving on the planet. You turned away from the looting. Reminded yourself that you, too, had done the same. Not that you were feeling anything ill towards the Knights.

 The level of slaughter depicted a rather vivid picture; the First Order had conducted a full raid on this base. You twisted one way then another to scan the level of devastation that had taken place. It was calculated, not as haphazard as it would have been with an airstrike. Ground troops, perhaps with aerial cover to prevent escape.

 “Are you searching for your mother?” Trudgen asked. You blinked thrice at the sound of his voice. It possessed a different depth when you wore the helmet that Cardo had made for you. His question caused you pause as you considered the answer, having been unsure if that had been one of your motivations for examining each corpse you passed.

 Finger running along the length of the blaster you had your hip, you offered a shrug. In a way, you had been searching for any familiar face. Your mother. Poe Dameron. Finn. Rose Tico. General Leia Organa; although, for her, Kylo would have sensed her death and would have come himself. You moved away from the bodies and headed for the destroyed tents in search of any Nabooian objects that you could salvage. Anything at all, no matter how small, they were all the galaxy had of your home planet. That was why you had come to walk amongst the dead and and all the destruction. Eventually you would search any body that none of the Knights or Order of Ren did.

 It felt surreal to strip pieces of clothing from the bodies of your former allies, however over time you began to mentally dissociate. You stopped checking faces and names. They were dead, gone; they may have hated you or tried to kill you if they had not perished and you had met on the battlefield. You could not dwell on them. More and more you were understanding how it was that Kylo Ren had become the man you had met, the once-upon-a-time creature that had pierced your body with his lightsaber. All of that detachment, it was the one true way to make ones way through war. Had you not done the same but to a lesser degree?

 It’s stranger when I used to walk among them. You dipped down to pick up a tiny trinket with a metal flower that was native to Naboo. He grew up with many of these people. To distance himself and not be sentimental stemmed from more than Snoke’s influence. It was equally interesting and odd for you to realize the variety of things people brought with them in the war. Trinkets. Books. Photographs. Tangible objects that reminded them of what they were fighting for.

 When you returned to the quarters that you shared with Kylo, you discovered that he was there. His eyes drifted down to the small object clipped to the bag that was filled with salvaged Nabooian objects. The electronic pet had dead batteries. That or it was broken, which you would learn after you showered and acquired a new set of batteries to tuck into it. You placed the bag on the floor near the end of the bed then walked towards the refresher, discarding your clothes along the way. Exhaustion was creeping into your limbs, else you would have said something more than the muttered hello to Kylo.

 You sat on the floor of the shower slightly away from the spray as it warmed. Footsteps echoed off the walls. The sounds brought a smile to your face, as did his question, “Are you building a collection of electronic pets?” With the travels you had done recently, you were now up to four. One was broken, its screen cracked, although it powered on with a high pitched squeal. Due to this you had removed the batteries and placed them into another, which had failed to turn on at all despite its outwardly pristine condition.

 He was undressing. Material being shuffled was too familiar a sound, one that you had come to enjoy hearing when it was from him. You scooted nearer to the corner so that when he stepped in his foot did not hit your body. Kylo’s gaze was on you from the start. There was no transition in which he had to look down to locate where you were. Tilting your head, you leaned it against the wall and sucked your lips into your mouth while raising your eyebrows. The door to the shower slid closed as he moved to where he was blocking the spray of water with his body. You traced the scars on his skin with your eyes beginning with those on his face and ending with the ones near his thighs.

 “What if I am?” you asked in unison with reaching forward to trail your hands along his legs starting from his knees and rising up to where you could press your palms together and cup his cock. You chewed on your bottom lip while shifting into a more comfortable position. “We never talked about it.” A noise of curiosity from him to acknowledge that he was listening. “Kylo, we ate a human heart.” Is this what all-consuming love feels like?

 “Hmm.” He cupped the sides of your face and tilted back your head. “Do you consider those monsters to be human, my little tooke?” Your breath hitched at the sound of the question and the light--and darkness--it shed on the reality of things. As he spoke, Kylo moved down so that his legs caged you against the wall. His large frame continued to block the spray of water though some droplets managed to splash past and caused you to blink. His thumbs hooked towards your mouth. You parted your lips. Felt those pads move inside and begin to skim along your teeth. The teeth that had first bitten into the muscle before he had joined you. “They’re beasts, they’re nothing.” He pressed one of the thumbs in further, using it to pin down your tongue. The hunger in his eyes, that he had for you, was something less savage.

 Through the bond you shared, you felt only a sense of inner peace that thrummed throughout your entire body. An understanding that he had torn the heart from the fallen First Order officer to dye himself in blood as a means of erasing the horror he had felt from you. Handing the organ to you, a gesture of love. Consuming it to prevent you from going through that temporary insanity alone. In fact he had eaten the majority of the heart, as though lessening whatever burden it would cause you once your faculties were restored.

 You sealed your lips around his thumbs while undulating your tongue as best you could with the pressure remaining. Kylo relented, lifting the digit so that you could explore and taste it. He dragged the second out before using that entire hand to begin caressing your body. It paused at a breast, palming it. He pinched the nipple, alternating between a gentle touch and something more demanding. You felt jolts of pleasure spike through you each time that he assaulted the bud. Kylo ducked to where he could mouth its twin, his teeth more demanding than his hand. You closed your eyes as the water sprayed against it and as your body clenched in pure want.

 “I would eat another for you,” he said against your flesh. Wetness pooled from your body, your cunt growing slick. You whimpered around his thumb, which then downpressed your tongue and held it captive. “First I will devour you.” You shuddered with an awareness of how it would feel in the next few minutes.

 His hands enveloped you after abandoning your mouth and breast, and he laid you out upon the floor of the shower. The spray pattered against your flesh. This sensation sent yet more tingles dancing along your body just as Kylo began to run the underside of his tongue from your throat to your cunt. His nose brushed against your clit, an action that earned him a moan from you. He pushed open your legs more, stopping only when you hooked them over his shoulders. Your heels dug into his back with the first swipe of his tongue.

 His tongue danced along your folds while his fingers bit into your inner thighs. His nose brushed against your clit once more as he flattened his tongue against you and drew all he could into his mouth. You reached down and grabbed at his hair, tugging him as close as possible to your cunt. You rocked your hips as he thrust his tongue inside of you, starting to fuck you in earnest. You pulled at his hair and ground down. His tongue squirmed within you, swirling. He worked a finger inside of you, the long digit easily finding the area inside of you that siphoned the breath out of your lungs. The wet sounds of slurping had you feeling flush. Water splashed along your face. You tried blinking past the spray to watch Kylo, but found that the endeavor was meeting with a frustrating failure. As a second finger was added, you allowed yourself to succumb fully to a sort of blind pleasure.

 It was as Kylo was working in a third finger, scissoring and stretching you open to accommodate still more, that you understood his intention. “O-oh,” you said. Your fingers grasped more tightly on his hair. It had to be uncomfortable for him, you passively thought; such considerations were eliminated with the insertion of that fourth finger. He toyed with your clit using his tongue, rocking it up and down then manipulating it into small circles. You were opened so widely for him. His fingers stroking you from within, those calloused pads skimming the surface of your inner walls. Your jaw dropped, your eyelashes fluttering.

 His entire fist shifted into you, leaving you with the impression that not a single part was left untouched. The pressure on your g-spot had you arching your back. Kylo sealed his lips around your clit. His sucking coupled with his thrusting drew whimpers and moans, which increased in volume. Your hands moved frantically in his hair then scrambled on your thighs, upwards until you were pulling your own hair with one hand and biting down on the knuckles of the other.

 The sudden feeling of emptiness assaulted you just as you had been on the brink of orgasm. You cried out. Teeth caught on the edge of your flesh, blood pooling from your knuckle onto your tongue then down the length of your body as you desperately reached for him. Kylo chuckled. His hands were both on your legs, tugging you along the shower floor until his cock was nestled between your outer lips. He rolled his hips, fucking against you instead of inside of you. Your body clenched--stars, you felt so empty, so desperate to be filled once more. Kylo leaned down and captured your mouth. You whined into the kiss. Raked your nails along his back with only a fraction of awareness that you were leaving marks on him.

 “I need you to fuck me,” you managed to say between moans and breaths after turning your head to keep him from silencing you with kisses.

 “Oh.” A huffed out breath, the word not immediately registering as being anything more than a random sound. You knit your eyebrows towards one another. You could feel just how aroused he was, how his body reacted to yours. His self-control was superb. It was different than it had been in the past as well, these moments of disinterest and passivity more genuine. A side effect of his having used that Sith artifact to regain his vision. Kylo tilted his head to the right. His eyes wandered along your face, a sight you could appreciate now that his body was again shielding you from the water.

 You reached up to cup a hand over his mouth. Not that you knew what you were silencing until you had spoken. “Oh.” You attempted to sound just as he had, to match the tone. His lips shifted behind your hand. Amusement from him had been one of the last things you were looking for. “You know--” You released a strangled noise of confusion as his muffled murmurs tickled your palm.

 “I was wondering where the blood came from,” he repeated after you removed your hand. You tilted your wrist to consider the knuckle, which gave tiny droplets of blood intermittently. “You bit yourself.” A question rose in your mind: had he thought he was imagining the blood? A second question as to whether he often did so. Kylo ran the tip of his tongue along his lips in a slow venture that caused your abdominal muscles to tighten. “Mm.”

 That grunt was the only warning you were given before he resumed where he had left off. The thick head of his cock began to push into you, stretching you once more as you had been craving. You felt opened inch by inch, your body clenching around him. Wanting more. Feeling equally full and empty, the conflicting sensations almost leading you to hyperventilate as your mind tried to work through them.

 “Please, more,” you moaned. His hair weaved between your fingers as you caressed the back of his head. His breath and voice were at your ear. My greedy little tooke. Your body was on fire. Tendrils of the Force coiled around you beginning at your wrists before coiling around your torso and limbs. Along your neck, a light pressure on the sides so that you began to feel a sense of vertigo. You knew that he could feel how you were clenching; around him, under him, everywhere. The way you grew wetter with each phantom touch and every thrust of his cock within you.

 Kylo encircled the wrist of your injured knuckle and dragged your hand down to where your bodies met. “I can sense what you’re thinking, what you’re wondering.” You trembled at his words--in delight, in anticipation of what he was going to do now that he had learned more of you through the bond you shared. “Would you like to see?”

 “Will I be scared?” you countered, noting how his movements had slowed without coming to a complete halt.

 His wet hair was beginning to stick to his face, starting to drip. His lips were redder than usual from the kissing you had done, from how he had sucked on your clit. “You may be.” This truth failed to inspire fear in you though your heart nevertheless hammered more quickly. Your eyes widened. For him to ask permission before using the Force on you. You nodded twice. “Keep your hand there. Play with your clit.” As he spoke, the hand around your wrist relinquished its hold and journeyed up to the side of your head. His fingertips stroked along your scalp. Brushing, petting. You leaned into his touch and felt your breath stolen for what felt like the millionth time.

 The spray of the water disappeared though the sensation of its warmth did not. The walls leaked red, a deep crimson that you well knew. It lacked the more grotesque gore that you had seen earlier on the decimated Resistance Base. Here there was only blood and ash flowing from the sky around you. The ash swirled as it fluttered down towards the blood on the walls and floor. Your body and Kylo’s were stained in streaks that pinked as the invisible water diluted it. There was a wetness on his face that was not red nor pink. The illusion of tears flickered in and out of focus.

 Kylo repeated his earlier demand. “Play with your clit.” You obeyed now without question, rolling the nub and feeling its smoothness with the rough pads of your fingers. You had fucked in bloodier circumstances, however those had not been the wounds of his soul. His hand found your throat though the images of blood failed to fade away. He started to cut off your air and blood supply, relenting in waves, in time with the undulation of his body against and within yours. You clenched around him in unison with those movements, your body and his together in this dance of souls and bodies. His other hand found yours. He entwined your fingers together, setting the limbs beside your head. Your tears were not an illusion. They were joy, a lack of hair, sorrow, pleasure, exaltation and despair. You came, your vision blackening around the edges.

 The stars were bright, were popping, going nova, turning into black holes that threatened to swallow you as you felt the strongest ecstasy you had ever experienced rush through you. His joy matched yours. Kylo’s name--Kylo, Kylo, Kylo--a repetition, a mantra, a prayer.

 You could feel him continue to slam into you repeatedly. His thrusts were frantic and shallow, hips jerking as he sought his own release. He growled as he came, his cum filling you then dripping from you as he pulled out. Only then was your vision beginning to correct itself.

 “I would be a monster without you.”

 The difficulty was that you were not certain if he had spoken those words or if you had. His body enveloped yours, Kylo pulled you into his arms and rolling to where he was sitting on the shower floor with you cuddled against him. He stretched out with a hand to summon the soaps and shampoo with the Force. The illusion of blood faded, the red thinning into pink then translucent fluids. Water poured from the showerhead and there were no traces of tears on Kylo Ren’s face. You used your injured knuckle to wipe at the salty residue of your tears. It stung, but not enough to truly bother you or encourage you to stop.

 His hands, one holding a washcloth lathered in soap, roamed your body. You sank into the sensation of being simultaneously cleaned and explored. The water had gradually cooled, the hot now warm. The temperature remained comfortable throughout the time it took for Kylo to wash you clean and for you to return the favor. You studied the marks you had left on his back with your nails. Combed through his hair with your fingers. Stared into those eyes, marveling at the depth to them, these windows of his soul. They were guarded, albeit less so when he returned your gaze and opened himself up to you.

 Kylo assisted you when you were ready to stand; your legs were less supportive than they had been before your activities with him, a welcome sort of pain. He shifted you to sit on the toilet then handed you a towel. Both you and he patted yourselves dry without speaking. This silence that clung was one of understanding and peace. After you were dried off, you preceded Kylo into the bedroom.

 You wobbled over to where you had dropped the bag, working the electronic pet off so that you could at last learn if it was still in working order or not. You had a towel wrapped around your body and no desire to dress in clothes just then. Kylo was different in that respect. He walked past you and pulled on a pair of pants. You had managed to open the electronic toy by the time that he returned with a fresh battery, which he deposited on the bed within your reach.

 “Ap’lek has been removed from the tank,” he said quietly as you put the new battery into the toy and resealed it. You did not react immediately. There was much to process with what he had said. Being removed from the bacta tank could be a good thing or else something negative, an indication that death was imminent. It was difficult for you to decide whether or not to ask. This was a man that Kylo had known for years now, a part of his found family after the turmoil he had been through with Luke attempting to kill him and his parents essentially abandoning him. You looked up from the electronic pet to observe his facial expressions. It was not as easy a task as it had been prior to the Sith artifact, however you did know him well enough to easily spot the tiniest of details within seconds.

 You returned your gaze to the toy. “He will regain consciousness, I believe it.” Kylo nodded, murmuring that he could still feel Ap’lek in the Force. It felt like a hand clenching around your heart to know that he had reached out to sense the other. You angled your body nearer to his, allowing him to accept or reject the gesture of physical comfort. He chose to move into it, his chest at your back much as it had been in the shower. “It works.”

 The device powered on with a high pitched noise that was normal for its design. That sound faded into one lower in volume as you were taken to a selection screen. This particular pet allowed you to choose from three different creatures. One was a fathier, the second a galoomp, and the final was a bursa. Your attention lingered on the second two creatures, both of which were native to Naboo--had been native, you corrected yourself--although the galoomp was also known to dwell on Tatooine. It struck you again that so much life had been lost with the destruction of your birth planet. Not only the people, the local fauna and flora. You swiped your thumb along the pixelated pictures of the creatures on the tiny device.

 Instead of choosing one of the creatures, you hard pressed on the buttons necessary to put the game into sleep mode and made a mental note to remove the battery later rather than allow it to run dry. You stashed the electronic toy in the same location that  you had the others. Kylo silently observed these actions without comment. It was difficult to not wonder what he was thinking; it would likely have nothing to do with your growing collection, which seemed to amuse him. There were other matters to preoccupy him. Each one of those held more importance than toys.

 Next you selected loose clothing to at long last dress in. There was no comment made in regards to you snatching one of Kylo’s shirts, although this did earn you a grunt of acknowledgment. You wanted to rest; it was the wisest move given that no one could predict when next a mission or an attack would arise.

 “You should eat.” You frowned at the suggestion, more because your body agreed at the sudden awareness of its hunger than at his words. Kylo did not say another word as you climbed into bed, tugging the sheets over yourself and laying your head on the pillow. He audibly sighed and shifted over to his commlink to order food to be brought to his quarters. There was no option offered nor a prolonged conversation; together, these two factors indicated that Kylo had been aware of the possibility and had made arrangements for food earlier. You appreciated his forethought.

 Bending your legs at the knees, your vision of him was obscured until he walked to the bed and joined you. The pair of you lay in silence for a number of minutes before you rolled onto your side to look at him. He had the appearance of someone who had not slept well. There were bags forming under his eyes. You reached for him, running your hand gently along the area so that his eyelids fluttered closed. The temptation to leave your hand there nagged at you due to the likelihood that he would reopen his eyes the moment your limb left. You shifted it all the same and rested your palm on his chest. He was warm to the touch, the effects of the shower still in play. In this moment you were struck by the similarities between mother and son--though you had not seen her often, after you had returned to the Resistance you had noted that Leia Organa frequently looked tired. Both were the leaders of their factions in the war. All you could hope was that Armitage Hux was equally, if not more, tired than the pair.

 “Will you rest with me?” you asked, suddenly quite afraid that he would reject the request. There was much he had to run, countless tasks and missions that required his attention. The Knights of Ren had not yet spoken to him in regards to whatever mission had been theirs on the planet. Kylo said nothing, although this did not surprise you. The door to his quarters had opened to permit the stormtrooper entrance. They set the platter of food onto the bedside table before leaving. You twisted around to check what had been brought. There were two drinks, both sealed, present. You lifted the lid off the platter and this revealed two small plates of identical portions. It comforted you to know that he was planning to at least share a meal with you even if he wound up leaving his quarters afterwards.

 You scooted upwards, slipping into a sitting position, and pulled the drink you knew to be yours into your lap. Next you grabbed his drink. As you were doing this, you felt the mattress shift in indication that he, too, was adjusting his posture. You handed him his plate after giving him the drink, and finally you pulled your food to yourself.

 “I’ve been dreaming about things that happened,” you said once you had consumed the first bite. You felt his gaze upon you though he said nothing; his mouth was full of food at the time, and you would rather he did not talk in that case. “Is it stupid that a part of me feels so sick at the thought of destroying the ship Hux is on?”

 You looked directly at his face to find him furrowing his brow and narrowing his eyes. “What?”

 “Millicent,” you murmured, ducking your head. His gaze softened in understanding. “I want to take her, not kill her. She gave me comfort when I would visit his quarters. She was one of the reasons it was so easy to view him as a human instead of a monster. Is that weird--that she’s his humanity to me?”

 His thick fingers skimmed the circumference of the plate he held. While you studied his face, Kylo inspected his food. The question you had asked was layered, you supposed. It could also be that he was refraining from mentioning how many creatures Hux had slaughtered with the destruction of Naboo and even before then. Even after then. The death of a single animal should not be a wound you feared, not in this context. Yet it did hurt you to think of. It twisted dreams of the past into nightmares of the future. Where you had subconsciously searched the faces of those in the Resistance for individuals you had known, you consciously dreaded happening upon the small body in any setting and thus avoided those thoughts until they lashed violently at the corners of your mind, demanding attention.

 For want of something, anything, to do, you took another bite of your food and began to chew at an exaggeratedly slow pace. Your mind began to wander. This time you allowed it to do so. You ran over the items that you had obtained on the mission, focusing ultimately on the electronic pet. You could save pixelated creatures, could revive them with batteries. Except in the cases where the devices themselves were broken. You frowned while swallowing.

 “If I get the chance, I’m going to steal her. Rescue her.” You faced Kylo headon to gauge his reaction. Not only did you have the impact of his stare, but his emotions filtered through the bond. He did not wish to dissuade you from clinging onto hope, however he believed your self-appointed quest was a fool’s errand. “I won’t be stupid about it. I promise.” His lips twitching towards a smirk told you that he believed it was already toeing the lines of stupidity.

 Kylo popped another bite into his mouth. It was amusing to you that he was not exactly putting up an argument. Ultimately he did have a say in what missions you were allowed on. He had a spy somewhere in the First Order, you remembered. Perhaps that individual could steal away Millicent, bring her to a designated area where a Knight or a trusted member of the Order of Ren could accept her and bring her to you. As far as officially proposing this scenario to Kylo went, you opened your mouth then closed it immediately. He grunted. There would be no getting around it. You spoke softly. Toyed with the food on your plate as you explained the plan that you had begun to devise.

 “You wish to risk lives and resources for a cat.” It stung, the cold logic of his words as he delivered reality into the setting of your fantasy. His lips pushed forward momentarily before he rolled his neck and stared at you. You still had yet to look up, observing him only in your peripheral vision. “Aris, an officer, and a stormtrooper.” You eyebrows drew towards one another. Was this the beginning of a joke? “Ushar is on a mission to retrieve them.” This was no joke, no laughing matter. You envisioned the young pantoran female working to gain access to a ship--Maker, she was reckless. She was a child.

 Kylo’s hand on your chest stopped you from surging forward. You were all too ready to spring to your feet. The exhaustion in your limbs was combated by the adrenaline that began to course through you. This was a reason that children did not belong in the war. Though you had proposed something so foolish and reckless, asked to steal away Millicent, you were not rushing for that. You did not blindly go for it, risking who knew how many lives in the process. You brushed away his hand while exhaling and closing your eyes. You had to recenter yourself. He had waited to tell you until you had showered and eaten for a reason. You were in no condition to do anything. Ushar was already on his way, you mentally repeated.

 “Did she use the Force on the officer and stormtrooper?” He shook his head, unsure. You angrily took another bite. Replenishing your energy was more important to you than before. “How do you plan to punish her?” His lips parted though no words emerged. It was different than if an adult had been the one to behave as such. An example could be made. Not that he was incapable of doing the same with Aris, however it would do more harm than could. She was a child. “Send her to her room with no dessert.” It was not a laughing matter. You simply needed something positive to take your mind off of the possible negative outcomes. Wanted to comfort Kylo in any way that you could. He had signed up to be a leader and, in some respects, a teacher. Not a babysitter, not a father. “Would you like me to help?”

 “You would tell her the realities of war?” You nodded without hesitation. A puff of air escaped him and after a short pause he nodded, granting you permission. Any weight that you could lift from his shoulders, you would. The blood in the shower, you could lessen its volume. Separately you both risked becoming monsters, bloodthirsty and inhuman. Together you were not. You maintained your humanity and balanced one another.

 Incapable of doing anything until Ushar returned, hopefully with the three in tow, you finished eating and set the two plates onto the platter. You slipped back into your previous position, ready to nap though your mind was not quieting. Your body was physically tired more than it had been before. The last of your energy drained as adrenaline dwindled down. You curled towards Kylo’s body, gradually scooting closer until he turned and allowed you to spoon him. It did not take long for you to fall asleep, thoughts and dreams swirling along the edge of your consciousness.

 It was the Naboo of your childhood, each of the younglings possessing a familiar face and each holding a tiny version of some creature or another. The miniature galoomp walked in circles on one child’s palm. You observed its mundane actions, finding that it did nothing of note. As you walked away from the child, you came to the realization that you were wearing your wedding dress.  It flowed behind you the entire time you walked in the direction of the water. At the edge rested a creature that you had never before seen. It sat hunched over with a clawed hand to its chest, which was no more than an open, empty cavity.

 “I will still devour the galaxy,” it growled out. “That was but a taste of my loyalty.” The creature turned its head to you. Its muzzle contorted as it grinned, baring its fangs. Its eyes glowed white. “There are thousands more, and we will eat you.” Bloodied foam dripped from its mouth as it began to salivate. With a cackle, it sprang into motion.

 You jumped backwards to avoid assault only to realize your mistake too late. You had not been the target. The monstrous creature raced past you and headed for the younglings with their miniature creatures. You tried to run, to catch it, screamed and then…

 ...and then you woke up with a cry spilling from you, a shout tearing from your throat in the waking world as Kylo cradled your face between both of his hands. You shook your head, shoved at his wrists to break his hold. He did not stop you. Kylo drew away from you, stepped backwards, and watched as you sat up. You pressed the backs of your hands against your eyes. Struggled to control your breathing and will your heart to beat at its normal pace.

 You had had similar nightmares before, had them since joining the Resistance and seeing battle. There were always things that prompted these nightmares. Sights. Concerns. With this, you knew it was your worry concerning Aris and the heart that you had eaten. “Has Ushar returned?” How long have I been asleep?

 Kylo Ren was fully clothed. The reduction of bags under his eyes meant that he had slept before dressing. Which meant, you reasoned, that you had been unconscious for a considerable amount of time. You pushed the blankets off of yourself while searching him for an answer to the question you had asked. Kylo held up his left hand, gesturing with two fingers towards himself. Swallowing, you moved off the bed and set a hand on the bedside table to keep from tilting over. It took you another few seconds to compose yourself and fully waken. Only then did Kylo begin walking in the direction of the refresher.

 The first thing that you noticed was that the door was closed. You dreaded what you would find. Had Aris been injured? She would be in medbay, not the refresher, you scolded yourself. Shaking your head, you nodded the next moment to let him know that you were ready. Kylo pushed open the door partway, slipping inside and making another gesture for you to follow suit. You scowled. It was a nuisance to not open the door entirely, however you soon learned why. I’m still asleep.

 You pinched your right cheek, wincing at the very real pain you felt. Hiding behind the toilet, peeking out at both you and Kylo was the small feline that you had asked for. This was not something that Kylo would have ordered, not as Supreme Leader, unless there were already people in a position where they had to escape Armitage Hux and the First Order. You lowered into a crouch, shoving at the door with your foot so that it slammed closed. There were many questions that you could ask, but instead you accepted the thick blanket of silence for as long as you could.

 Your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. Your hands curled and uncurled, forming fists only to flatten out. “What happened?” your voice cracked as you spoke. This fact did not embarrass or anger you as it might have in other situations with other audiences.

 “The First Order captured the three. The officer was executed immediately, the stormtrooper and Aris taken captive. Ushar would have been taken as well had our spy not acted. The scrambled comm devices that your technician friend in the Resistance made… The Order of Ren worked to design some.” Ushar had communicated with him, you surmised, following along. “Our spy was already revealed, our resources already expended. It was nothing to grab this one. The stormtrooper was killed during the escape. The spy killed himself to allow the others to escape; this was not the First Order flagship, which makes Millicent’s presence there curious. I suspect a recent visitation from Hux.”

 “Where are Aris and Ushar?”

 “Medbay.” Kylo Ren crouched down, gesturing with a single finger towards the hiding feline. “There was a datachip clipped to her collar. It contains copies of Imperial records that list families with known Force sensitivity lineage along with their birth planets. Naboo was frequently mentioned on that list as were two others. The destruction of Naboo had been in Hux’s design since before we eliminated Phasma.” He lowered his hand. “Should I praise her for inadvertently assisting us? Punish her?” He was emotionally detached.

 You did not know what to tell him. A part of you believed that both should be implemented, however you were left with the knowledge that you did not know her current condition. Both Aris and Ushar were in medbay, and that was all you knew. Three people were dead. The list of family members and planets might save more lives. It would offer a chance to counter moves the First Order may be plotting. This was a terrible position to be in, to weigh if the lives lost had been worth it all. What made a good death?

 The finger you had used to pull the trigger during your time with the Resistance twitched. You curled it inward, pressed your thumb on it to create a minor sensation of pain. This was a game that all pieces in the war played. A worthy sacrifice. Is it time for him to die? Is it time for her to be spared? Is it time that they enter the battle? Therein was the issue, the reason why you did not want to visit medbay. To see the extent of damage done meant that you might also be saying farewell. If you did not go, you would lose that chance.

 What if they’re mortally injured and it’s up to me to say when it’s time? You had been in that position before. Sat at the bedside of an ally with the awareness that no family member was on the base to witness their final moments. You had been there to comfort them. To whisper softly, to tell them that it was alright if they were ready to let go. Their hand in yours--when still they had such limbs--and those impossibly wide eyes--when they had eyes--on your face. The silent plea, the contradiction: let me die please don’t let me die oh please kill me and end this pain I don’t want to die I’m not ready. You did not want to prolong their suffering and you also did not want to let them go too early. The angel of death remained an executioner. Mercy was a plague.

 It hit you in that moment why you had grown numb on the Resistance base with the three Knights of Ren with you. There had been no one left alive as you had feared. You had known that, if any person was choking, was in their death throes, you would have gone to them and knelt at their side. Done what you could to ease them in their final moments.

 Your eyes journeyed along Kylo’s back, which was rigid. Your mind was wandering back to the shared shower and how he had permitted you a chance to see the blood that tainted his soul. The tears that threatened to cascade if only it was not a sign of vulnerability. Even then he had been aware that Aris and the others had been headed for the First Order. He had already sent Ushar after them, potentially to his death. All the while Ap’lek was on a bed in medbay. Not conscious; he would have told you if the Knight of Ren had regained consciousness. You shifted up onto your knees and shuffled over to him until you could rest your forehead against his spine. Your arms wrapped around his stomach, your hands on him. He commanded the entire Order of Ren.

 I would be a monster without you.

 Sending others on missions that could result in their deaths. Ordering what was viewed by the opposing sides as slaughter. Farewell, humanity. The monster slayer uglied their own soul, tainted themselves, and only in death did they find release.

 I am made of clay, I am made of paper. I am a star that shines, a star that dims. I am a monster slayer. I am a monster. I am human. I am what I make myself to be.

 With each thought, you traced a letter with your fingers onto Kylo’s abdomen. You spelled your name, branding him as he had branded you. He stood, pulling you along with him. Not once did your lettering cease. Your name and then his. You murmured the words that you had thought, substituting the I with We, pluralising each line.

 We are made of clay, we are made of paper. We are stars that shine, stars that dim. We are monster slayers. We are monsters. We are human. We are what we make ourselves to be.

 To know that you had momentarily weighed the life of a feline against those that might have been lost, that reality had latched onto the idea and made it so, caused your head to spin. Kylo moved a single hand atop both of yours. His limb stilled your movements; it was the only thing that could have stopped you from again writing out your name and his. How well they joined together, flowing from one to the other without cessation, feeling natural as though they had never been separate.

 “I believe in you,” you whispered. The hand atop yours trembled then clenched more tightly. It kept yours against his body. He held onto you as though you were an anchor. “You know what you have to do...and you don’t have to do it alone. Never. I’m here with you, for you.”

 There was no such thing as too young to die, not in war. Not in life. The young and old alike perished each day. Kylo Ren himself had taken the lives of--stars, how many had there been? This one shook him. He saw his father in himself in that moment for a child that did not belong to him. Death was not a certainty for her, however its likelihood was what shackled him to that refresher with you.

 Should I praise her for inadvertently assisting us? Punish her? The detachment made more sense to you. His inability to properly feel the emotions that he might have had he not regained his eyesight through the Dark side of the Force bothered him. He knew that it was not a normal response.

 “Both.” The single word flowed over you. There was no second of unease for you. It was all that you had expected. Ap’lek and Aris both would be unplugged from the machines that were assisting their bodies. A means of checking if they stood a chance. Were their lives worth having Millicent, worth having the chip that contained that list of names? Was this their good deaths for the war? Sacrificed for the cause. Or they could survive yet be removed from active status. “Ushar said that Aris spoke of a vision through the Force. There was a need for her to go. Ironic that your own stupid obsession with the cat would echo these sentiments.”

 “The Force wills it,” you murmured. They were not words that you had often spoken. In fact, it was rare enough that you could not remember when last you had said them. Their sound had Kylo twisting around in your embrace then stepping backwards, breaking contact. You rocked forward a step, caught yourself, and straightened your posture. “It’s no comfort if they die. Then we ask if the Force wanted their deaths. We ask ourselves what mistakes we made. I’ll say it for the both of us: I don’t want them to die.” A vulnerability, one that he could not allow himself.

 Kylo’s expression was guarded, which would not change until he was entirely alone. Even then it would be an internal struggle that ate away at his resolve before he gave in if only to keep his sanity. You refrained from commenting on it at all. Checking yourself over in the mirror, you worked to make yourself more presentable. Only when you were done with this did you exit the refresher. You slipped on socks and shoes. Kylo had, during that time, strode to the door of the quarters. The pair of you exited together and walked in silence towards medbay.

 Droid and human physicians alike hovered by two beds. The pantoran female was stretched across one. Her blue skin was marked with areas of black. The clothes she had worn were sheared away in patches, allowing you to see the burns. Beside her beeped the machines that read off her vitals. Across from her rested Ap’lek. He, too, was attached to several machines that fed him oxygen and monitored him. His injuries were all internal. You knew the reason that the physicians would refuse to place Aris in the bacta tank; the initial scans were not as favorable as Ap’lek’s had been. Even then he, too, was facing potential death.

 “Can the Force bring someone back from the dead?” The question left you before you could catch yourself and you instantly regretted it. Wincing, you looked to Kylo with the intention of apologizing. His eyes abandoned your face without a response. He walked past the bed that held Ushar, who seemed to have sustained minor injuries aside from broken bones in his hand and a broken clavicle along with a sprained ankle. With a huff, you followed along after Kylo. He had gone to Aris’s bed. His glare would have made her shrink in embarrassment and fear had she been awake. You felt ill at such thoughts. She might never awaken again.

 You slid her hand into yours. She looked even younger, much smaller, on this bed in medbay. One of the droids moved a chair behind you, which allowed you to sit without releasing Aris. What a foolish girl. A reckless child. You sucked your lips into your mouth, biting down on them and holding your breath as the physician walked to the machine. If Aris displayed signs of thriving, she would be moved into the bacta tank. They had waited for their Supreme Leader, likely utilizing the time it took him to return to work on her and ensure she was in a stable enough condition to try. At least that was your assumption--you were no medic, you understood life and death from a different angle.

 The beep, beep-beep was drowned out by the sound of your own pulse in your ears. Phantom fingers walked up your spine and settling on your neck. There they tapped out a steady rhythm. This was not Kylo, not the Force. It was your mind trying to push away from the moment. It was you subconsciously working to dissociate. As you became aware of this, you shook your head and forced yourself to resume breathing. Reminded yourself that you had to be present in that moment no matter the outcome.

 You could save all the electronic toys in the galaxy, but what would it do without hands to hold them? Her pulse was weak. It was beating against your skin. Her breaths were so shallow. What if the Force demanded you pick only one life to spare? What if it denied you both?

 When you had died, you had held onto your father’s hand. Who would be holding Aris’s when she died? Kylo had said that he had been in darkness. You did not want this child to be alone. This stupid girl. This reckless child. If she was to die, what would you say to her? Would you ask her why, or would that question be directed only at the Force?

 Someone was saying your name. It clicked only then that you were alone with Aris. The others, the physicians and Kylo had gone to Ap’lek. Ushar had clumsily risen from his bed, much to the chagrin of the physicians. One life was regaining strength. The other was fading away. The crawling sensation along your spine danced along the entirety of your back. You swayed, nearly pitching off the chair. How you caught yourself, you were not certain. Your focus had begun to waver near immediately.

 I don’t want to know when it’s time to let death come. I don’t want to say that it’s being merciful. I don’t want that power. I don’t want that position.

 It was easier when you were pulling the trigger. Not when it was the life of someone that you loved. Did the world stop fighting for them because the resources were expended? Was it selfishness? Was it selflessness?

 The Force wills it. Light and dark. Life and death. A balance, a cycle, hand in hand.

 Your gaze dropped down to the hand that you were holding. So small, yet it had held a weapon. So tiny and young, but it had helped serve in this war. The echo of memory, Kylo’s voice saying that you had armed a child. Had that been the moment that her fate was sealed? Your actions may have been the catalyst. Could you ask her to keep fighting? Whisper to her now, plead with her and the Force and anything and everything. Apologize for giving her the blade, because surely you were the one that had encouraged her to be reckless, to be stupid, to embrace this war like it was nothing more than a game.

 And if you could save her life, what would you give in return? Who would you choose to take her place? To state the name of your enemy would be far too easy.

 You had consumed a heart, had taken life into your barren body, and now you could offer nothing but death. It was nearly enough to make you jerk your hand away. Nearly, but not quite. Your father had held your hand when you had died. You had to hold hers. “You need to come back,” you said, your tone not unlike the one that your father had used before he had released your hand to return you to this world, to the living. You leaned in. “Stupid. If you’re ready to…” You swallowed thickly, feeling a lump in your throat. “If you’re ready to go, you can let go.” These words you had said in the past with your allies. The next ones you had not. “But if you’re not, I’m here. You aren’t alone, I’m here with you...for as long as you need. For as long as you can fight.” Your voice cracked when you tried to speak again, tears spilling down your face. "No matter what, you're not wrong. You're not alone. I'm here, I promise."

 It was not very much longer that you sat there holding onto her hand until the Force gave its final answer. Her hand fell limp, her pulse fading away completely. You ground your teeth together. Anger welled up inside of you. Turning your head, however, you saw proof that the Force was capable of saying more than just no. Ap'lek's chest rose and fell steadily without the assistance of the machines. Ushar was nodding as one of the physicians spoke. They had all moved on, you realized, not because they did not care for Aris. They had entrusted her to you, had given you privacy and called your name only on the occasions that you had started to succumb to despair. In the end you had had the right words to say. That was not a position that Kylo could have filled, nor was it one he wanted.

 Life would not pause for you to properly mourn the young pantoran just as it had never done so in the past when you had lost your Resistance allies on the battlefield. It was slightly kinder in this instance, permitting you the opportunity to sit with her body until the physicians pulled you away so that they could do their job. Such a cold thing, what occurred in these durasteel walls. She would be taken to a furnace, would be burned. You exited medbay with a buzzing sensation assaulting your mind and along your spine. You returned to the quarters that you shared with Kylo alone. Walked into the refresher and collapsed against the door, sliding down its frame and staring at the cat concealed by the toilet.

 She did not slink over to you until after a full cycle had passed, during which time you had exited the refresher on only three occasions. The first had been when Kylo had insisted you eat and rest. The second when Ap’lek had regained consciousness. The third had been to assist him in walking to Kylo’s quarters and with you into the refresher. He had been there on the mission from the Resistance, had seen who the girl had been before you had put the knife into her hands. As Navrin, he had worked to protect those children from the First Order. It was Ap’lek that you believed, albeit reluctantly, when he said that you had not done this to Aris.

 Millicent crawled over to the pair of you. She brushed her head along your hand then tentatively sniffed at Ap’lek’s hand. He was not fit for combat according to the physicians; first he would be required to undergo a series of physical therapy sessions. Not that there was much to do in the meanwhile--Kylo Ren had sent reconnaissance parties at the locations of the other two planets that had appeared most frequently on the list alongside Naboo. This would serve as confirmation and the counterstrike could begin. Though the Order of Ren had been successfully in dismantling the weapon that had destroyed Naboo, not a one of you were underestimating the might of the First Order nor the resourcefulness of its Supreme Leader. You tugged Millicent into your lap, feeling her squirm before she settled down.

 “It was easy to blame you when Kylo died.” You turned your head to consider Ap’lek. He was staring at the cat. “You’re blaming yourself partly because you don’t want to blame the others. Why didn’t the doctors do more? Why didn’t Kylo order them to put her into the bacta tank? Why did the Force do this?” You averted your gaze and clenched your jaw. Ap’lek took a heavy breath. He raised his arms, crossing them behind himself and resting his head on them. “You need to consider that maybe it has nothing to do with you at all. That you need to stop asking those questions.”

 Maker, you wanted to...what? Punch him? Cry? Your mind was simultaneously emotional and emotionally drained. The cat you were holding began to pur, which you knew to be for self-soothing purposes in this case.

 “It would have happened without you there. It’s not about whether you’re hurting or not. It was her life.”

 “She threw it away!”

 “Says you,” Ap’lek intoned. “You’ll never know what she felt about it. That’s what bothers you. Maybe she was ready to be free of that pain. You told her she could, that you were there for her regardless, didn’t you? All that’s left, it’s your pain. You are turning her death into your choice, into something that defines you.” You opened your mouth to argue. “You can hurt. Just...stop. Cry. I don’t care.” You released Millicent and allowed her to scramble back to the toilet where she could hide. “She was a child, and she did more for this war that some of the adults here. She had a vision and she followed through, aware on at least some level of what the risks were. Aris had seen death. What she did was stupid. 

 “She could have spoken with Kylo. But she didn’t. Somehow that still allowed us to get hold of that chip. If she had been an adult, we would call her a hero, a martyr. Because she was a child, it’s a greater tragedy.” Ap’lek leaned over, wincing at the discomfort of the movement, and knocked into you. “You held her hand in her final moments. She may not have been conscious. She was fading into the Force, slipping away. Probably scared. But she knew that she was not alone, and you let her know that it was okay to let go. She did not have to fight that losing battle just to prove something. She did not have to cling to pain or misery. It was not you choosing to let her die. It was not the physicians or Kylo choosing to let her die. It was everyone being fully aware that her surviving was nothing more than prolonged suffering. Even if you cared, it was the selfish part of you that wanted her to remain. Admitting that was not wrong.” You bit down on your lip. “I could hear you. I heard a lot of what was said in medbay when I was in the bacta tank and then after I was out.”

 His hand stroked along your head, down your neck and to your shoulder. He held you in a loose embrace that you melted into, curling your body against his though careful so as to not cause him pain. The bitterness and hurt of Aris’s death did not disappear entirely, however it lessened in its intensity. You knew that what Ap’lek was telling you was the truth, and the words he used were not dissimilar to ones that Ip had told you when you had trained with the splinter cell of the Resistance. These facts transcended war. They were of the balance between life and death, both of which were mysterious, kind, and cruel.

 “You’re my favorite Knight of Ren,” you murmured against him. His thumb skimmed back and forth along your shoulder. You rolled your eyes as he referred to you as super tooke. “I want to celebrate her life and the victory she has given us.” You were determined that this next mission meet with success. Aris had seen the importance of her going to the First Order in a vision. You wanted more than anything to believe in her, in the Force, in these decisions that had, as Ap’lek stated, nothing to do with you--not aside from you being a player in the same war. “I was so scared that I would lose both of you.”

 “You still might,” he said in a rather chipper tone. Your eyes bulged and you twisted around quickly, jarring him so that he winced. “Not a funny joke.” You could have laughed, you could have cried. Instead you uttered nonsensical sounds that had him chuckling. Kylo’s footsteps on the other side of the door helped to sober the both of you. His return meant that the scouts had reported back. Ap’lek would rest and you would, hopefully, be joining Kylo on the next mission to fight against the First Order. You wanted more than ever to eliminate the monster known as Armitage Hux.

[raisonroux]

OTAS: Ch. 5

The Getaway

By the time the lift mechanic reaches the scene, there is far more damage to the elevator and surrounding hall than just the reported call button. A chill runs down his spine as he is greeted by the ominous sway of flickering lights, unbound from their place in the ceiling. The strong stench of burning rubber assaults his nostrils. Setting down his bag, he takes out his data pad to assess the situation; his peripheral view alerting him to the Commander's presence. There across the data pad screen are two flashing prompts: “ERROR / “DAMAGE”.

“No shit,” he whispers under his breath as he stares at the door currently still smoking from the searing attack. He knows that in order to fully understand the severity of the issues, he needs to connect directly to the elevator computer system. This means two things: finding a working panel and restarting the halted car.

On the other side of the hall, Kylo stands… waiting. “How long until it is ready?” he questions. The chilling, robotic voice raises the hairs on the back of the worker's neck.

If it were any other person, the mechanic would laugh from the ridiculousness of it. The cosmetic repair alone will take days, not minutes. The mechanic prides himself on the speed of his repairs, perhaps the fastest in the Order (aside from Rose Tico, who was unavailable to take the call). But he doubts that even she could fix this fast enough for the Commander.

“I am still assessing, Commander Ren. I will need to move to another floor to access a working panel. I will return when I have news.” The mechanic is grateful for the chance to distance himself from the sinister leader.

“No, I will go too,” Kylo states. The news drains the blood from the mechanic's face.

“Very well, Sir,” replies the man trying to hide his growing panic. Still frozen in place, he watches as Kylo turns the wrong way down the hall. It hits him that this is a common floor, typically unused by anyone above a Captain’s rank. Despite the assurance in his walk, Kylo did not know where he was going. Seeing his Commander in a rare moment of vulnerability, the mechanic chooses his next words carefully. “Excuse me, Sir.” Kylo stops, but does not turn around. “If you don't mind, I know of a lesser known staircase this way. It will be faster.” He holds his breath, hoping the his Commander accepts the white lie. Kylo turns on his heal and gives a subtle nod, the relieved man leads the way.

With his bag of tools on the floor, the mechanic begins his work and connects his data pad to the intact panel. A restless Kylo peers down the hallway at a congregated stormtrooper group standing at attention, most likely receiving orders. At that moment, the soft rolling of a BB-9E droid passes by his boots. Smirking behind his mask, he jerks his wrist and the droid flies through the air - striking the white armored group, collapsing upon impact. “Direct hit,” Kylo murmurs to himself as the pile of discombobulated troops attempt to regain composure.

As the mechanic works, the man’s tedious thoughts drone on in Kylo's brain. For months he has struggled with sleep, but now he feels as though he could sleep standing up from sheer boredom. But then there is an abrupt pause in the stream of consciousness.

“That’s strange...” the man considers, and Kylo’s interest immediately piques. “So it wasn’t from the damage…huh. No, it was a forced reboot. But how? Nothing was scheduled in the system.”

Within one long stride, Kylo closes the distance between he and the man; grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him up to eye level.

“What do you mean, forced reboot!?”

“I…uh… I’m not sure. Someone would have to be at the mainframe computer to put in the order,” admits the man now convinced his life would end right here in this hallway.

“Where is the elevator now?!” Kylo booms.

Trembling the man looks down at his data pad and gulps, “R6.”

Kylo drops the mechanic to the floor as he thinks aloud, “The cell block. The trooper.” Looking down at the crumpled man, “I need this lift to move NOW!”

“I’m so sorry, Sir, but... but the system will not restart until it completes the cycle. It’s impossible for me to call the car until it finishes the restart.”

“THEN WHEN?!” Kylo bellows as he uses the force to pick up the mechanics bag. Throwing it across the hall, tools fly out and crash to the floor.

The man, his body twitching in fear, grabs his data pad, “Six minutes, Sir.”

“Six minutes and not a second more,” Kylo warns.

***

Your brain is still reeling from the events with the pilot. As you retrace your steps back to the elevator you recall his firm chest, his satisfied groans, and the skill of his mouth. Oh that mouth. In all your years alone, you had never experienced the thorough sensation of shared desire. Typically you are the one emoting pleasure outward, but his ability to pour it back into you left your body craving more. Although you know better, you consider turning around and making the most of the last few minutes alone.

Suddenly the deafening hum of the machine restarting snaps you from your daydream. Your body freezes as you realize that the elevator is no longer a getaway option, it was never an option. Of all the planning to reach the cell, you didn't consider how you would escape without the elevator. Running into Kylo Ren wasn’t part of the plan. With the whirring elevator back in service and the numbers noted above getting lower, Kylo would be arriving at any moment. There is no way you could face him again, your energy is too spent to try and control any more emotions. No, your only way out is to run and hide until the coast is clear. You turn towards a nearby hall and a patrol guard instantly detects you.

“Explain yourself,” states the suspicious guard. As he marches closer, the remnants of your escapades with Poe waft off of you, weakening his knees with each step. “Wow… I… ummm…,” he babbles incoherently. Once face to face, he falls to the floor with a thud.

“STAIRS! Where are the stairs?!” you yelp at the convulsing man below you.

He ignores your request and continues his vulgar moans as his mind swirls with pleasure. He raises a hand, and you barely make out a finger pointing to a door on the far side of the corridor.

Attempting to run, your muscles seize in fatigue. You feel as though your body will give out at any moment.

"It's too much, I'll never make it... No! Stay positive!" You will yourself to keep moving, knowing any damning thought may cripple you. As the door opens your heart sinks. There, on the other side of the door is darkness, not even a glimmer of light. This can't be right. Backing away from the door you hear the elevator ding open and the mumble of voices. You throw yourself across the threshold and pray the zip of the closing door goes unnoticed.

You are now inside the void. Hands stretched outward in hopes of feeling a staircase, you press on. The blinding darkness makes it impossible for your eyes to adjust. The rustle of heavy armor clamors loudly, alerting anyone within earshot of your location. Stripping the dead weight, you continue slinking through the dark hall in your black unitard. Suddenly, the feeling of slick steel on your hand gives way into an opening, you turn and collide at once with rusty bars. It dawns on you. This isn't the way to stairwell, this is the dungeon. These are the cells where forgotten people wait out their last moments. Fear strikes you, and you keel over in weariness. Rest, you need rest. You consider hiding in the empty cell to regain your strength, but decide against it since it would only make capturing you that much easier if you are found. You must keep going.

As you trudge down the black passageway, you hear the swoosh of the door you escaped through. Flinging your body against the wall, you clutch your chest to slow your breathing to a stop. You watch as a tall, back lit figure steps through the doorway, your eyes unable to make out any details except for the outline of a helmet. The door shuts, shrouding the room in darkness once again. Your pounding heart echoes in your ears, until the sound is abruptly eclipsed by the thud of heavy footsteps. The stomping grows louder, nearer, and you decide to make peace with your fate. This is the end, there is no where to run, and you allow your defeated body to slide down the wall in surrender. Right before you reach the floor a cold, powerful hand snatches your arm.

Into the darkness you cry, “Please! Please understand… I was just trying to help!”

“Hello Master Y/N. *Beep Beep Current status - satisfactory. No need for service,” informs the Security droid, recognizing you.

Crying with relief you pull the humanoid-shaped droid into a hug. Your heart swells with gratitude and before you can calm your already spent emotions, your unconscious body collapses into the robotic arms.

[girl-among-mts]

Part Ten

The planet Syris, the headquarters of the Allied Rim territories. It was as far a cry from Hays Minor as Rose thought she could possibly get. It wasn’t some bustling metropolis like the Coruscant, but that’s what she loved about it. Leia once said it reminded her of the Chandrillan countryside.

It was so… green. Lush. Vibrant. Teeming with life. That was why the First Order wanted to establish an official trading policy. Hidden in the formerly Resistance-controlled territories were planets like Syris; lush farmland that comprised the Outer Rim’s bread basket. A resource the technologically-dominated worlds under the Order’s rule desperately needed.

Rose supposed she could be thankful they were willing to trade for what they needed, rather than take it by force.

Progress.

That’s what she kept telling herself as she watched the Upsilon-class shuttle, a black hole against the planet’s sunny, bright blue sky, come to a smooth landing on the spaceport’s duracrete pad.

She was able to keep her emotions in check while the ramp was lowered, but when a certain towering figure ducked down from under the belly of the ship and found her immediately with his sharp gaze, something tightened in the pit of her stomach. Even across the platform, she could see the corner of his mouth turn upwards into a smirk.

The Grand Marshal had kept his night-black uniform, but in lieu of the greatcoat she remembered, he wore a long cape of white pinned to his shoulders with gold epaulets.

Hux tightened the cuffs of his gloves.

How gracious of her to greet him herself, he thought as he made his way over. He had to admit, Commander Tico had not strayed far from his thoughts since their last, fiery meeting.

He’d kept tabs on her since their treaty signing on Coruscant, equally fascinated by her tenacity and oddly impressed by her political wrangling. If the Resistance had been a less capable force, she would have been nothing but a bothersome rat from some desolate colony. Not even a memory.

But the galaxy had concocted other plans, and as such, he’d been unable to enjoy a single cigarra without reminiscing on how she’d gone toe-to-toe with him without a single ounce of well-earned fear. Something refreshingly addicting about that.

It was why he’d insisted on overseeing this trade contract himself.

“We meet again, Commander,” he said by way of greeting.

“Guess so,” she quipped, motioning for him to follow her from the landing pad. “It’s been a few months, but I have to admit that you were right: the galaxy’s changed a lot since then.”

Keeping pace just behind her, he was able to appraise her without fear of being caught. Such a petite, luscious little thing.

“Indeed. That change has much to do with why I’m here, Miss Tico.”

She threw him a sly look back over her shoulder.

“Couldn’t just send one of your lackeys, huh?”

“Oh, come now,” he chided. “What would be the fun in that?”

Rose snorted, shaking her head slightly as she led the way toward the main statehouse.

[damn-stark]

Kiss the girl- Finn imagine

Finn x reader

Summary- Being best friends is hard when you have deeper feelings for one another. It’s especially hard to reveal such feelings in such a complicated time. And also hard when you’re both a little clueless. Three times, three opportunities did he have to kiss the girl but he didn’t..will he do it the fourth time?

—

“Come on, we’re leaving.”

You jump up to your feet, startled by the sudden commotion. You turn and see your best friend FN-2187 standing by the entrance, his heavy panting is heard behind his white helmet. You couldn’t see his face but you knew him better, his features were mostly likely twisted into one of worry. His stance also gave it all away.

“What? What’s going on?” You question as he quickly comes and grabs your elbow, pulling you away with him. “FN?!” He responds with silence continuing to pull you away with him. He grabs your helmet and hands it to you. Quiet mutterings are heard under his breath. You pull your elbow away and stop in front of him, making him bump into you. “FN?!”

He takes his helmet off and as you had predicted his face was contorted in worry and panic. His face was gleaming with sweat. He takes your hand in his and firmly holds it, lightly brushing your knuckles with his gloved thumb.

“We’re leaving. You always say that you hate it here, that you want to do better, I do too. I’m leaving and I couldn’t leave without you. We have to do it now. Quickly.”

You hesitate for a moment, processing his words. His actions had caught you off guard. You both had secretly talked about leaving the first order ever since you were children, you never thought he would be the one to make the idea a reality.

Squeezing his hold on your hand tighter, desperate for an answer you look at your helmet and to the ground. He was right, you did want to get out of here and do better. And you couldn’t do it without him.

“How?”

He smirks and puts his helmet back on, making you put on yours too.

“I have a way.”

~

“This is crazy! We’re going to get caught!” You panic as you guide the resistance prisoner to go find a TIE fighter to escape in. Your breathing quickens, your anxiety heightening within yourself, your hands begin to shake showing clearly your panic.

“It’s okay, we’re going to get out. We’ll be fine.” FN-2187 assures you even if just minutes ago he was reassuring himself.

The three of you stop by the TIE fighter you’re going to get on, your anxiety escalating causing you to hyperventilate. FN hears and quickly moves to put his hands on your shoulders.

“We have to hurry man!” The resistance prisoner urges beginning to worry on how you had gotten.

“Hold up.” FN responds before turning his attention back to you.

“FN-”

“We’re going to get out, I promise you we are. Okay? When have I broken my promises?”

“Uhmm actually.”

“Forget I said that. We’re getting out. Doing better.”

“Doing better.” You smile behind your helmet, beginning to calm down by his reassurance. He always knew how to calm you down, every time you were panicking he was the only one that could and knew how. He would usually place both hands on your shoulders and rub small circles with his thumb, or sometimes he caressed your cheek. He’s done it ever since you were children, even if you had your white trooper uniform on, the actions had the same affect.

FN then pulls your hand and guides you to the TIE fighter. Once you’re inside you ignore the resistance fighter’s rambling and look at all the gimmicks on the control board of the TIE. You’ve flown one before but it was just a training simulation. “Okay, this is happening.” You mutter as you pull off your helmet and throw to the ground. The feeling of the fighter finally lifting off catches your attention, you’re about to point something out but the sudden pull back makes the problem point itself out.

“I can fix this!” The resistance fighter assures you two. You turn your head back to the problem and grab the blaster throttles, quickly you aim it at what was holding down your fighter, and shoot causing the whole thing to explode and for you to be set free. “Or she can. Guess that answers my question you ignored.” He says making a proud smile grow on your lips.

“Nice job!” Finn shouts as he moves his hand back so you can give him a high five. You all continue to fight forward, trying to get out from the first orders reach, the three of you congratulating each other on the little successes you had while shooting down what threatened you.

“What’s your names?” The resistance pilot asks looking over his shoulder for a brief second.

“I’m FN-2188.”

“I’m FN-2187.”

“FN- what?!” He exclaims.

“That’s the only name they ever gave us!” FN responds.

“Well I ain’t using it. FN huh? Finn I’m gonna call you Finn.” He says directing himself to FN, Poe looks over his other shoulder to you. “What about Y/N, for you? Is that alright? Do you guys like it?”

“Yeah, Yeah, Finn, yeah I like that!” FN now known as Finn shouts in excitement. You smile at the sound of his name, a name that really suits him and feels like that had been his name all his life. A name that separates him from the life he used to live in the first order, just like your new name did with yours.

“Yeah I like it! Yeah! Thank you!” You follow by saying with a wider smile.

The pilot chuckles at the excitement finn and you share over your new name. “I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.”

“Good to meet you Poe!” Both Finn and you say at the same time.

“Good to meet the both of you too!”

A wave excitement hits you in the face, finally really realizing that you were actually leaving the first order, that you were leaving your unwanted life behind. The excitement though doesn’t last as Poe heads back to Jakku. Finn and you argue against it, but Poe continues going and gets the TIE shot, making you all go spiraling down into the planet. Everything after getting happens to fast, everything is a blur until you see nothing but darkness.

~

“Y/N! Y/N. Please, come on, wake up. Please.” The voice is faint at first, the sound of your name still very weird to you. Pain begins to register first in your head and then the rest of your body. You groan quietly, the brightness of the sun burning your eyes. Before you could react to anything you shoot up, making Finn throw his head back so you wouldn’t smack your head with his.

“Finn? Finn!” He moves back so he was once again facing you. His worried frown turning into a happy smile.

“Y/N! You’re okay! I was so scared.” Both of you immediately react and wrap one another in a firm and assuring hug, making sure that you both were in fact here and not some illusion. The scent of smoke hits your nose, letting you realize what had happened and what had caused you to knock out and almost die. Before you could turn to see the scene of the crash or ask about Poe, Finn pulls away and places his hands on either side of your shoulders, holding you in place firmly. “You’re okay, right? Nothing hurts?”

You chuckle and instantly feel yourself ease into his touch as he rubs soft circles on your padded shoulders. “Beside having a pounding headache, I’m fine...I think. You?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

A smile spreads on your lips and you wrap him in another hug. “We’re out! Finally!” He hugs you tighter and laughs sharing your excitement. “Thank you, Finn. I couldn’t have done without you.” You say sweetly unknowingly making his heart skip a beat and his cheeks to burn hotter. You pull away but not fully just enough to meet his eyes. The smile never leaves your lips, and your eyes don’t leave his.

He swallows thickly all while his heart pounding in his chest, feeling like it’s going to jump out at any second, luckily for him the chest plate hides that fact from you. His eyes flicker down to your lips, like yours did with his, he parts his own lips slightly and leans in just a bit closer. As he’s about to close the gap his eyes lift to meet yours, causing him to clear his throat, awkwardly pulling away, remembering what you two were. Best friends. He didn’t want to ruin that. He didn’t even know if you felt what he felt for you...then again he didn’t know what he was feeling, he just felt happy around you, his heart always felt like it skipped a beat when he saw you.

But maybe...that’s something everyone felt when they saw their best friend....

—

“Oh, you guys kissed....okay. That’s...cool.” You whisper unaware that Poe’s and Rey’s eyes shifted from Finn and you, waiting for what Finn was going to respond with. Very much aware that the two of you had this connection that was noticeable to everyone except to the two of you.

“No! She kissed me! I-I didn’t kiss her.” Finns voice got squeaky, as he tried to explain what had happened just moments before, when Rose Tico had saved him from destroying the battle ram canon. He didn’t know why but he felt like he had to explain himself more to you, to make things clear that what Rose did, and felt, he didn’t feel in return, that he hadn’t kissed rose back.

You clasp your hands together, under the table, fiddling with your thumbs. Trying to ignore this burning feeling you felt at the thought of Rose kissing Finn. The feeling felt unknown, nothing you felt before. You felt anger and...something else that wasn’t clear, some feeling unknown to you.

“So that’s what you two were doing in Canto Bight? Flirting with each other. Is that why you didn’t get the right codebreaker?” Your words come out involuntarily sharp, your face hard and serious.

Poe and Rey without hesitation, quietly left their seats next to you after hearing your words, knowing that this conversation should just be between the two of you. Leaving though didn’t mean that they weren’t going to be close by, to listen to their friends conversation. Their was also not a lot of places to go in the Falcon.

“What? Y/N, No! That’s not what happened, you know what happened. Why should it matter if she kissed me though?” His question catches you off guard, you yourself not even knowing the answer to it. All you knew is that you didn’t like the fact that she had kissed him, even if it was a peck and he didn’t return the kiss; something in you was just fuming.

“Yeah, I guess it doesn’t.” You hiss scooting over to get out of the booth, he quickly scoots out of the other side and grabs your hand making you freeze in place just before you could leave.

“I don’t like her like that. She’s just a friend.”

“Do you think they’ll kiss?” Rey asks Poe as they both pay very close attention.

“No.” Poe answers simply and honestly, peeking over Rey’s head and watching your interaction with much amusement.

Your eyes are trained Finn’s, your hand still in his, his thumb stroking your knuckles ever so lightly like he would always do. He saw the conflict in your eyes, saw that you weren’t believing anything he said; but he was telling the truth, he wanted you to believe his every word, he didn’t know why but he did. He really wanted to reassure you; that he didn’t like Rose like that, that what he felt for her wasn’t the same thing he felt...for you?

“Come on man, do it.” Poe muttered as he saw how you two were so close to one another, he saw the way you had stepped forward as if expecting something to happen. All Finn needed to do was close the small space between you two and then their, it would be done; and what you two obviously felt for each other wouldn’t be hidden any longer.

But...he didn’t...Finn took too long. You pulled your hand from his grasp and patted his shoulder, a tight lipped smile on your lips.

“Okay. I believe you.”

Poe sighed, shaking his head in disapproval. “Told you they wouldn’t do it.”

—

The final fight, the big fight that would once and for all bring an end to the war, bring out a winner...and hopefully it would be the resistance. You can’t imagine losing anyone you cared for...you can’t imagine losing Finn. The mere thought makes you too emotional.

Before leaving base, standing here now, minutes before leaving might be the last time you ever see any of your friends. See him. And you didn’t want to hide away what you were feeling, what you’re so sure you were feeling for Finn. Maybe it was the exact thought that you might not see him, but it was because of it that you finally see how you feel. Finally, you weren’t clueless to your own feelings.

“Finn.”

“Y/N, just the person I was looking for.”

The both of you move to the side, getting out of the way of the chaos that was the resistance base as everyone was prepping to leave. Sharing what might be their last moments with the people they loved. People they cared for, just like you were.

“I’m scared. This might be the last time I ever see you.” You admit making a kind smile appear on his face, taking your hand in his.

“Maybe. But I know it’s not.”

“How do you know that? It just might, and I want to tell you something. I want you to know something.”

You place your other hand on top of his, while looking up at him, admiring and taking in every inch of his face, the shape of his lips, the way his eyes seem to have a smile of their own when you were around him. You wanted him to be the last thing you picture, if you meet your demise while flying in the sky, upon your x-wing.

“Tell me after, okay?”

“No, Finn. If I don’t make it—”

“We’re going to make it—”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do, it’s a feeling. An instinct. I’m going to see you again.” He says softly his other hand cupping your cheek, causing your heart to pound in your chest at the feeling of his thumb caressing your cheek.

You want to keep insisting on telling him of your feelings, but as soon as your lips part to speak he leans in closer, you see his eyes search your own, he swallows thickly and you see the corner of his lip twitch as if he was having a hard time with something.

A little voice in the back of your head tells you to lean in, but as soon as you wanted to he goes in and plants a peck on your forehead; before pulling you in for a tight hug. He rests his chin on the top of your head and grips onto you tighter, making you also hold onto him tighter, making tears roll down your cheeks. “Are you sure? We’re going to see each other again?” You ask softly, briefly closing your eyes shut and resting your head on his chest, more tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’m sure.”

—

It was over. Finally over. The war was won.

A war you’ve been fighting, since you were a little child in the first order, training to be a stormtrooper. A war you continued fighting after leaving the first order and fought alongside the better cause. It was finally over and you made it. You were actually standing back on base. And as soon as you did get off the x-wing your eyes were already searching for only one person. You maneuvered past crowds of people, celebrating, hugging, crying tears of joy and some of grief for those lost fighting.

Your heart was beating quickly in your chest, as he didn’t come to sight, you felt your anxiety rise within you. You stopped and stood on the tip of your toes, desperately trying to see any sign of him. You felt your breathing quicken and your eyes water. You hoped and hoped. You almost felt like your heart was cracking minute by minute...until a familiar voice was heard behind you.

“Y/N!”

You spun around, a huge grin quickly spreading on your lips. “Finn!” Immediately you dropped the helmet that you still carried in your hand, and ran up to meet him in a tight hug. Causing a soft oof to escape his lips, but quickly picking you up off your feet and pulling you closely to him. He put one hand on the back of your head while you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck.

“What did I tell you.” He said softly, not missing the way his voice cracked because of the tears flowing down his cheeks. When he finally put you down, he only pulled far enough so he was able to cup your cheeks. You smiled up at him, your own tears rolling down your cheeks, while your hands rested on top of his, not being able to find any right words to say to him.

“I love you.” He spoke, making your breath hitch and the grip you had on his hands loosen. “I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, I wanted to say it before but I—”

You interrupted his talking by leaning in and pressing your lips on his. The sudden action had caught him by surprise, but he quickly pulled himself together and began to kiss you back. Your hands wrapped around his neck and pulled you in closer.

The kiss felt sweet, almost electrical, it felt like sparks flew, your lips so easily molded into one another, like you were always meant to be the one kissing him. It made you realize that you had been missing on the feeling of lips on yours for too long, you wanted this feeling to last forever, but it couldn’t. When you two finally pulled away, you both shared the same goofy smile. He rested his forehead on yours and caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“I love you too, Finn.”

“Look, he finally kissed her. He finally kissed the girl.” Poe told Rey as they watched from a distance.

“She kissed him first.”

“Yeah, whatever, they finally let it happen, about time.”

.

.

.

[cupidsbower]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Leia Organa & Rose Tico Characters: Rose Tico, Leia Organa, Poe Dameron Summary:

“Tico!” Lazslo, the head tech, strode out from the shuttle’s main bay where he'd been working on the internal wiring, giving her dirty appearance an approving once-over. He was a great believer in the virtues of hard work. “The General wants you.” He held out a cleaning-pad that was already showing signs of use. “Better hop to it.”