#some of this is my fault bc i skim sometimes and also took a long break and forgot stuff

[pennamepersona]

I get that part of the appeal of FL is learning lore slowly and organically and also that it's a living story so some things just didn't exist or weren't talked about for a while and that means not everything matches up neatly and that's fine and whatever but also I would commit deranged and heinous acts for a book or google doc that just explained things plainly

[dameronology]

home {poe dameron x reader}

summary: poe made a promise to always come home, and it’s one he’s determined to keep

warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries 

more hurt/comfort fluff?? i almost sent myself off to sleep writing this bc of the ending and bc i am shattered. anyhoo, enjoy!

- jazz

p.s i skimmed this, but it has not been properly proof read haha oops pls bare with me, i will do it in the morning 

It had only been five days. 

You’d been apart from Poe for far longer than that; sometimes weeks, sometimes months. It was just part of being in the Resistance, and something you both knew you had to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. You must have had some pretty foul luck to have met the love of your life during a time in which the galaxy insisted on keeping you apart - but one look at the pilot, and all that faded away. He always made it home to you, no matter what. He’d made that promise to you pretty early in the relationship, and you knew it to be true. You could never doubt Poe. 

The Blue Squadron was due back to base at midday; the mission had been pretty secretive, so the comms lines had been shut most the time. Even after begging Leia to let you man the singular one that connected you to Poe, she’d refused, knowing it would only make things worst. The General only ever spoke from experience, and she had plenty in waiting around for cocky pilots. Whilst Poe was arguably a little less reckless than Han, she knew that you would both act as a distraction to one another’s work. You were equally important to the Resistance, and she couldn’t have you moping about on a commslink for hours a day. The joke was on her for that one, because you still moped, even when you weren’t trying to reach your guy. 

 ‘What time is it?’ You asked Finn. 

‘11.56.’ He glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. ‘So the same time as when you asked thirty seconds ago.’ 

‘I’m just anxious.’ You grumbled. ‘I’ve been so lonely the last five days.’

‘You mean the last five days that you’ve spent with me?’

‘Hey, it’s nothing personal!’ You nudged him in the ribs. ‘You miss him too.’

‘I do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We really are just a pair of simps.’

‘Friends who simp together, stay together.’ You grinned. ‘And if me and Poe ever break up, you have first dibs.’

‘Same for you, if Rey and I ever break up-’

‘- that would require you getting together in the first place.’ You reminded him. Finn could only scowl in response. 

‘I’m trying!’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘It’s just complicated.’

‘Nothing’s complicat - they’re here!’ 

You leapt off the crate you’d been sat on, sprinting across the hangar to where a fleet of X-Wings were grouping. Jess came in first, followed by Snap, and then Kare. Poe’s jet was the last to come in, which was unusual for him. He almost always lead the squad - aside from the time he’d managed to blow an engine and had to call you out to tow him back (it’s how you’d met, actually). Bar a few new dents and scratches, his jet looked to be in decent condition, with BB-8 whirring away from where he was perched in the back. You took that to be a good sign, even if he’d been the last to get in. 

A crowd of mechanics reached the fleet before you, tools in hand and ready to repair whatever damage the First Order had thrown at them. You gave Jess a smile and a high five as you passed, but your line of sight was dead set on finding the curly-haired pilot. You had to elbow your way through the crowd, heartbeat picking up as you did. Man, you’d missed him. The last few weeks had been rough for you both and being constantly pulled apart only made it worst. All you wanted to do was to see him, to hug him and-

- You hit Poe with a thud, chests colliding. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his chest and burying his head against yours. He smelt faintly of jet fuel and smoke, which was fitting. 

His lips were on yours the minute he’d let you go, hands tightly gripping your cheeks as he kissed you with all his might. Yeah, he’d missed you too.

‘Hey, baby.’ You couldn’t help but smile, eyes finally meeting - it didn’t last long though, not when you saw the state of his face. ‘Oh my god. Your eye! And your lip! And-’

‘- I missed you.’ Poe brushed it aside, pressing another exhausted kiss to your lips.   

‘I missed you too.’ You softly sighed. ‘The fuck happened to your face, though?’

‘Just...First Order stuff.’ He bit his lip, brown eyes falling to the floor. 

You sighed. ‘Shit, Poe.’ 

‘I know. He gently nodded. ‘I’m okay though. I’m here with you. That’s the important thing.’

‘You’re right.’ You agreed. ‘C’mon, I’ll take you to medical-’

He cut you off with a groan. ‘Let’s just go back to my room. Please?’ 

‘But your face.’ You gently ghosted a thumb across his bruised cheek, flinching when he shuddered slightly. ‘I mean...I have a first aid kit. I can always take a crack at it.’

‘That sounds a lot nicer than those nurse droids.’ He smiled. 

‘But you have to promise to get checked over tomorrow, okay?’

‘I promise.’

Poe flung his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you headed out the hangar. His own room was actually in the opposite direction, but he practically lived with you in yours. It always felt so much nicer. You’d managed to make it a lot homier, with photos of the two of you and fairy lights strung up. The scent of your perfume always lingered in the air and sleeping in your bed was the closest he could get to you when you were away on missions. In return, he left his jumpers and hoodies laying around for you to have free reign of. It was a weak form of paying rent, but he hadn’t heard any arguments. 

You could tell that Poe was tired from the way he walked. He usually had a swagger in his step, smiling at everyone who passed. Now, he was leaning on you for support, dark eyes staring dead ahead with exhaustion, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour to process what he’d witnessed over the last few days. You’d been on his mind the entire time.

‘Here we go.’ You gently lead him to the bed, helping him shrug off his charred flight suit. He caught your lips in a chaste kiss as you moved it off his shoulders, hands suddenly grabbing yours. 

‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Of course. I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘Is something up?’

Poe pulled you down onto the bed beside him, eyes finally meeting yours. ‘I just...I got captured on the mission. Very briefly, but still. It was scary, and there was a moment when I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back.’

‘Poe.’ Your breath caught in your throat. ‘Is that why your face is all...’

‘Like this?’ He chuckled slightly. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, don’t be.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘It’s not your fault, and like you said earlier, the important thing is that you here now.’

‘I know, but I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d always come home?’

‘And you did.’ You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. ‘Now c’mon, I gotta stitch you up before this scars.’

‘I reckon I’d look hot with a couple battle scars, y’know.’

‘You would, but I’d rather you not bleed out all over my sheets for the sake of vanity.’ You smiled. 

Digging out your first aid kit, you grabbed a few cotton swabs and some bacta spray. You weren’t a nurse, but your medical skills weren’t terrible either. After a few too many injuries and close calls out in the field, you’d learnt the basics. Half of the scars on Poe’s body had been from your handiwork after he’d been injured -- some of them were a little wonky, but he hadn’t died yet, so you figured you’d done a decent job. The ones he’d done for you were much neater but in your defense, he was reckless as fuck and had a ton more experience in dealing with injuries. 

On the bright side, Poe’s torso seemed fine and relatively uninjured. The white shirt he was wearing was only smeared with soot from the blaster fire, and his bare arms were broad and uninjured, save for one scrape on his left bicep. Okay, maybe the broad part wasn’t relevant to the context, but it was definitely relevant on the whole. He did have good arms. You only ever truly felt safe when they were wrapped around you.

‘This might sting a little bit.’ You crouched between his legs, pouring a little bit of bacta spray onto the cotton swab. You gently wiped it across his forehead, doing a double take when he let out a hiss of pain. ‘You okay, baby?’

‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Poe’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a half smile. ‘Better now that you’re here.’

It didn’t take too long to clean up the rest of his cuts and bruises; they were relatively minor given what he’d been through. The last time he’d been caught by the First Order on Jakku, he’d come home ten times worse than this. You’d spent days by his side in the medical room, mostly chiding him for how funny he looked in the bactasuit, but also to offer emotional support. The duality of love. 

You finished up by wrapping a bandage around the cut on his left arm, gently tying it in place with a safety pin. It was enough to keep it clean and safe until tomorrow, when you’d hopefully be able to convince him to see an actual nurse. You knew that for now, he was tired and probably just wanted to rest. His eyes were sunken with tiredness, and his body had become more and more slumped as you’d gone about cleaning him up. Poe never slept well on missions; a mixture of anxiety and your absence always made for a bad night’s sleep. 

‘That should keep you in one piece for now.’ You said, running a hand through his hair. Poe leant into your touch, pressing a kiss to your wrist. ‘You should get some sleep.’

‘Mmm.’ He murmured. ‘You’re staying, right?’

'Absolutely.’ You offered him a soft smile. ‘Gotta lose the boots though. These are clean sheets.’

‘Can you do it for me?’ He asked, flopping back against the mattress. 

You rolled your eyes at his...Poe-ness, before leaning down and unzipping his shoes, tossing them in a pile across the room. Yours joined them, followed by your jacket and the crumpled flight suit. That was something else to worry about tomorrow. For now, your main focus was him. 

Poe climbed under the covers, shuffling across to make room for you. He reached out to you as you joined him, naturally wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The tiredness really hit him then, and you could feel his body untense as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. His body was warm against yours, which was a welcome contrast after sleeping alone for the last few nights. 

‘I love you.’ Poe murmured quietly. 

‘I love you too.’ You peered up at him with a smile. 

‘And I’ll always come home to you.’ He gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘You know that, right?’

‘I do.’

‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’

‘I know.’ You softly sighed, trying to move closer to him (as though it were even possible).

It was hard for him to fight the exhaustion now that he was laying with you -- after a few moments, his breathing became a little deeper, and his grip on you a little looser. You pressed one last kiss to his cheek, before settling back against his side and letting sleep over take you. 

[alexandermanes]

halloween week, day two - the hunt

hi! welcome to day two of my halloween week fic! This one is a werevolf au, tw for blood, graphic descriptions of gore and werewolf transformation

IT BELMANES CENTRIC OK BC I ALWAYS WRITE MALEX

summary: the pod squad is a wolf squad and jesse manes hunts them down 

ao3

The moon was set high in the sky as six pairs of legs galloped on the sterile sandy soil in Roswell, New Mexico; soft thick fur dancing in the wind. Usually people steered clear from the desert once the sun had set. Tonight was a full moon which always meant agonizing metamorphosis, bones cracking, nails and fur growing, eyes glowing, teeth piercing through flesh; blood, so much blood. With every full moon came the reminder of their curse, but it also brought a foreign sense of freedom, such as running through the desert as a wolf, something so primal and common amongst various animals, something that ordinary human beings could never experience it.  

Freedom wasn’t something Michael, Isobel and Max ever experienced since their conception; the lack of freedom was passed down from generation to generation. The curse was bearable, despite excruciating, but it had its perks, though the witch that cursed their bloodline could have never predicted that once their ancestors set foot in a supposedly uninhabited “new” land they’d be persecuted by men. Not just any men, men from the same bloodline. Man who they came to know as Manes men. Maybe the witch had predicted their fate after all, an addition to their misery. With each generation of their family the tale of their curse became more and more unclear, trapped in a fog set by time, the story’s veracity crumbled; instead of a single myth there were many and each family knew a tale that diverged slightly or enormously from the original one. However, the witch’s name or her family’s name were unknown, the only common denominators in all versions of the story of the family’s curse.      

For years the Manes have hunted them and for years they traveled through the country, hiding and never staying in one place for too long yet here they were, back in Roswell after all this time. The Manes were relentless, always somehow one or two steps behind, breathing down their necks even if indirectly, they were powerful people, hunters nonetheless. And hunters, like beasts, were drawn to the smell of shed blood. Though their families vowed to never harm a hair in a human’s head the target in their heads never seemed to waver, not to the Manes.

Soon, it would be dawn, and they would morph into their human form again, and the cycle would repeat itself for other five days until the full moon would transitioned to a quarter moon. Feeling the soothing approach of dawn, Isobel directed her pack, her brothers to the nearest cave, a cave they strategically left clothes and blankets in for once they were back to being bipeds again.

“So, what’s the plan, Iz?”, Michael asked as he put on his shirt, his back to his siblings, as they had their backs turned to him too. The bare minimum of privacy.

“Survive the week, move the next”  

Once the rustling of clothes ceases silence settled, an indication they were all decent, Michael looked at his siblings, something dark settled in his features

“Y’know, this would all be done with if we got rid of them”

“All of them?”, Isobel asked pointedly, her tone imbued in annoyance

“Well-“

“Well, all of them except your precious Alex, that is”

“He is not like them”, Michael remarked wearily and slightly offended on Alex’s behalf

“They are all the same. They are all monsters”

“Izzy-“

“Michael, please. I get it, okay? You’re in love”, her brother chocked on air as if her words were some kind of revelation, “doesn’t automatically undo all the things his family did to ours”

Michael and Isobel were tied by blood, but not like her and Max, Michael was her cousin but in every way that counted he was her brother and despite being a thick-skulled, one-track minded asshole sometimes, he was and forever would be her brother. Even if he fell for a Manes man, the same men that-

No, she was not going there.

“Let’s go have breakfast”, she offered and both brothers nodded, acquiescing silently

-

   Sunlight streamed through The Crashdown’s window’s, soft and feather-like warmth enveloped the siblings. The diner was mostly empty given the fact that it was early in the morning, before seven o’clock. They were greeted by a smiling and antennae-wearing Liz Ortecho, who seemed genuinely glad to see them after so many years, and it had Max blushing just by being the receiving end of her smile.

After ordering their morning coffee and skimming through the pages on their menu, finally they ordered their breakfast food.

“It’s good to be back”, Max sighed into his coffee

“Is it though?”, Isobel muttered under her breath, still analyzing the menu, her light brown wig looking a bit more like her actual hair

“Okay, Izzy. I’d get the morning crank, if it was all that this”, Max zig-zagged his finger in her direction, looking suspicious under his baseball cap, “was about. Which it ain’t, so talk to us, Izzy”, he looked at her with his puppy hazel eyes earnestly and all her irritation melted away and grew subsequently like a cart on a rollercoaster ride.

“Fine”, she squinted her light green eyes and glared at her brothers, “I’m tired of running”, she says matter-of-factly, “if they want to come for us I say let them try to take the first swing”

“Wait”, Max says at the same time Michael chokes on his omelet

“Isobel are you sure this isn’t about -“

“Don’t”, she interrupts him menacingly, green eyes sparkling with rage and something else entirely “don’t start, Max”

“Isobel”, he tries again

“Please”, she pleads a bit too loudly earning a concerned and quizzical look from Liz and Arturo

“Okay”, her brother relents, “but we still need to talk about this”, his voice is soft but his eyes are stern, nothing short of determination, “we’ve let you call the shots, wherever you pointed to we just followed behind. Now though, staying here? With the Manes around, in their hometown? We at least need to talk about it”

Michael and Isobel nod in acquisition knowing this problem will resurface sooner rather than later.

-

               In the afternoon, Isobel and her brothers plopped down and huddled together on the small sofa inside the Bunker beneath the Sanders Auto, ready to discuss what they’d postponed for too long.

“So”, Max started, “why are we here?”

“Uh, we can’t exactly go outside and walk around like actual p-“

“Enough with the games, Isobel”, uttered wearily

“Fine”, she shouted, she adjusted her posture, back straight, predatorily so, like a snake about to lunge at its prey

“I meant what I said when I told you I was tired of running”, Isobel explained more calmly, “So I said fuck it. We can start over here and if they try anything, well”, her unfinished sentence hung threateningly in the air.

After a couple of seconds, Michael spoke: “Then what?”

“You said it yourself, Michael”, her reply is devoid of any emotion except determination

“What? We kill them?”, disbelief embedded in his query

“You were right”, she turned her body towards her brother, assessing him with her piercing gaze, “This went on for far too long and I’m done with fleeing from a place to another, never settling down for more than a couple of months then moving across the country. I mean don’t you want more from life?”

“Listen, I’m all for killing the Jesse Manes and his minions. But don’t you think we need a plan? We can’t go in bearing our canines and growling, it’s gonna get us killed”

“Since when do you plan for anything, Michael?”

“Since it comes as a matter of life and death, Isobel!”, he screams, scrambling to his feet

The youngest fits the eldest, Max, a worried glance, prompting him to chime in, to say anything about their sister’s all but suicidal plan if you could call that a plan really. Max suddenly looks at both his feet and exhales deeply and turns to Isobel, his voice barely above a whisper:

“This is about Noah, isn’t it?”

Immediately, her eyes fill with tears at the mention of her ex-fiancé, she turns away and starts pacing, meanwhile Michael and Max stare at her, the first wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape, the other unfazed.

“Iz-“

“No, Michael. You don’t get to say anything!”, she points her wavering finger to him as tears pour out of her very soul, “You get to be happy, you get to be have the person you love because that person can protect you. I don’t”

In truth, Isobel loved Noah, she really did, though it might not have been the constant butterflies and fire in her belly like she imagined romantic love to be. In all her years, the constant moving and fear that permeated her life, no partner ever stood by her side like Noah did, not that she had had many, she never needed to, she had Noah, and he was loyal and understanding of her wishes, until he wasn’t. Not that blame fell upon him for their failed relationship, but neither did it fall on her: it wasn’t her fault. Eventually the lack of stability conjoined with lack of explanation as to why they had to move at all took a toll on their relationship and it came to bitter end. And Isobel, always fierce and defying, couldn’t find it in her to confess her secret to her, at the time, partner, because it meant risking the lives of everyone she loved. And it’s not like she had any friends, she had none, haven’t been able to keep people that aren’t related by blood to her.

Hopeless, Isobel lived her everyday trying to convince herself she wasn’t meant to find any happiness in this lifetime. Despite knowing not to risk the lives of her family, she yearned for something and as that struggle grew tenfold, she faltered and here they were. She tried to find happiness in anything else in her life but without Noah, her life seemed ever bleaker than before and something inside her cracked, like a clock’s engine giving out and suddenly she was unable function properly. Thus, she decided to drag her brothers back to Roswell in a moment of weakness.

“It’s not fair”, she croaks, “This curse, it took everything from us”

“Not the curse”, Michael corrected her gently and squeezed her shoulder tenderly, “The Manes”

“What’s the difference at this point?”, she sniffled, and fit her head on the crook of Michael’s neck, burying her woeful face

Max finally stands and trudges towards his siblings and puts his hands on the shoulder that’s not embraced by Michael

“Iz, you can’t. I know you miss him, but if you see him again you might break and he can’t know”, Max explained

“I just need to see him again, please”, she sobbed desperately

Max just looked at Michael, desperation creeping, he was out of ideas, and as for his brother, he just shrugged jerkily, already feeling desperate himself.

-

As dusk approached, and the colors of the sky grew colder and darker, the three sibling where once again in the middle of the sterile soil of New Mexico, which stretched out to the horizon and all around them, which meant they were away from humans, from their peering gaze and fragile bodies. Good, she thought, face stained with tears.

They stood there in their underwear in a circle, waiting for the moment the sun excused itself to give the moon space to make an appearance in the sky.

“Iz”, Michael tried meekly, “we’re gonna figure this out, okay?”

Isobel smiled at him weakly, as if mustering a smile was the most difficult task ever, and took his hand. Her brother, for all his confidence and snark he was one soft man.

Max took her other hand and declared it was almost time. Soon enough, they started to feel the effects of their transformation, the vibration beneath their skin, their molecules rearranging themselves, the hum in their ears growing louder. If only it was just vibrating into a wolf. If only. Their bones moved as if they had a life of their own, which in nights of full moons they did, it was a kind of pain you had no words for, their organs squished between their bone structure as their whole body shifted to a new form. The cracking and moving made an awful noise especially with their heightened senses. They fell to the ground, body accommodating their four-legged body. They’d scream if they could, but only whimpers come out. Blood streamed out of their ears, eyes and noses, and once their teeth sharpened and pierced their gums, blood poured out of their mouths as well. The hairs on their body grew, itching, long and thick as they became fur. Though the pain was excruciating, they stood in their wolf bodies for the sheer power of magic that coursed through them.

Fully transformed, they shook their bodies like a dog dripping with water would, shaking the after-effects of the metamorphosis. They assed each other, making sure they were okay. Isobel went in front of them, pearly white fur bouncing under the moonlight, her eyes emerald green, and Max followed behind, velvety black fur and honey eyes and finally Michael, golden fur and golden eyes, queued behind. They didn’t explore by themselves tonight, nor did they run free, they simply strolled aimlessly. Wandering. They roamed through the desert for what it felt like hours.

Something in the distance caught their enhanced hearing: a car, and it was speeding closer and closer, instead of running and hiding in the nearest cave they stood still. Something, instinct if you must label it, told them this was no ordinary vehicle filled with curious tourists or bored and unruly teens; this was deliberate, not an accident. So they braced themselves for the fight, knowing full well it was Jesse Manes and whoever planned to exterminate them specifically. Yes, them, their family, because even when they kept their noses clean, keeping a strict non-human (as food) for diet, the Manes were still relentless, with the exception of one Alex Manes who was disgustingly head-over-heels in love with Michael.

So they stood still, predatory stance and unyielding focus, and waited. A couple of minutes later, small spheres of yellow gleamed in the darkness of nightfall. They grew bigger and bigger until the trio saw them for what they were: headlights. A black SUV, menacingly approached them rapidly until it stopped about seven feet away from them. Out of it jumped, expectedly, Jesse Manes and someone else, someone who looked awfully similar to Alex but wasn’t. In their hands they wielded glistening silver guns which were probably loaded with silver bullets. How convenient. Arms steadily pointed at them, the siblings would have to prepare an attack that’d be quick and unexpected. No one moved, not even by inch, time seemed to have stilled and the air was as thick as their wolf fur, it was harder to breathe.

Then, something different filled the air. And of course, Michael smelled him before he saw him, his siblings who followed closely behind. The wolves’ laser-focus wavered, ears moving in a way that allowed them to pick out the sound of another car more efficiently. Noticing the distraction that took over the wolves, Jesse Manes looked at the other man questioningly who shrugged equally confused until the other SUV was parked behind Jesse’s. And out of it climbed none other than Alex Manes who without second thought shot who they realized now was his brother sided with Jesse. The shot was aimed at his knee, and he fell to the ground with a shout. Jesse had barely any time to react when a bullet pierced his chest, a clean shot to his heart and as he fell to the ground kneeling and before him stood a man, as tall as Max, maybe taller, dark hair and dark eyes, strong clenched jaw. His smelled like sweat and something incredibly sweet. He was the most beautiful thing Isobel had ever set eyes on. The clink of metal being hit brought Isobel out of her daze and she snapped her attention to her brothers seemingly unharmed. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw movement, she braced for an attack momentarily only to realize it was Alex, moving closer to them.

“Is he dead?”, Alex breathed out

“Yeah”, the other man whispered, his voice made Isobel shiver

“Can you take Flint to the hospital? I can take it from now, Greg”, Alex came closer to him and patted his shoulder, “Thanks for helping. You didn’t have to do that”, he pointed to their father’s lifeless body

“It’s fine, Alex. I should’ve protected you from him sooner”, Greg replied

Alex nodded in thanks and as Greg moved to assist Flint, who resisted the help accusing them of treason, he spared a glance to Isobel whose heart thumped so fast she thought she might have a heart attack. Then he turned back, hauled Flint up and sat him on the passenger’s seat then jogged to the driver’s seat. He drove away and took a piece of Isobel’s mind and her with him.

“It’s over guys”, Alex announced, “He is dead, and you’re safe now. My brother and I will handle Flint but we won’t let him close to you. I’ll protect you from now on”

Michael, the sap, galloped towards him, and wrapped his body around him, and rubs himself onto him like a house cat, leaning his very wolf weight on him and earning a startled laughter from his boyfriend, Alex, tumbled a bit but did not fall. Alex, who a moment before shot his own brother to keep them safe and now was gushing over Michael’s domesticated feline behavior. And Isobel knows she should feel guilty for judging her brother’s boyfriend so harshly, she should also feel relieved for being set free from the Jesse Manes’ claws. Except she feels confusion and longing directed at a man she’d just met.

She hoped she could introduce herself properly to Alex’s brother and she desperately hoped her feelings would be reciprocated.  And the very least,  possible she hoped she’d see him again.