#Finn what have you been told about the vault

[chlothequeen]

I think between Ooo Finn mourning Jake literally until the day he died and Farm World Finn constantly adding to the last soup his wife made that he has some very unhealthy tendencies maybe

[all-risejd]

Chapter 20: Tilted Dimensions 2

Another crossover with After Shine

From the outside, Tilted Dimensions didn’t look that much different from the other buildings on its block back in Tampa, Florida. Seeing the weathered blue sign, with black lettering, white accents around the letters, in Cincinnati, Ohio, however made Danika pause. The building looks exactly the same, from the mismatched brick that sat over the painted blue sign, to the large windows that opened the front to sunlight, and the white metal chairs and tables out front. She pulls her phone out and quickly texts Finn to let him know she was now running late, and would be picking up donuts. Looking around the cold city that was threatening snow, she tucked her scarf a bit tighter and hurried across the street.

Tommy was behind the bar, his usual barista uniform on, with his tried and true black beanie on his head, and a crooked smile on his face, “Ms. Danika.” He grinned, “Good to see you, Ms. Nessa beat you here.” He pointed her toward a corner booth, where Nessa was in fact sitting. Danika looks at her watch, it's barely ten in the morning, she assumes it's going to be another hour visit, so she sets her watch to time them. Tommy calls after her, “I’ll bring you a drink, and some pastries.”

“Thanks, Tommy.” She mutters back, already sliding into the booth across from Nessa. Danika has gifts for the slightly older woman, having started carrying them around since the last time they saw one another. She slid her messenger bag into the booth against the wall and shot Nessa a big smile, “What the fuck happened to your hair? How have you been? Tell me the drama.” She leans forward, elbows on the table, her eyebrows dancing.

-/-

Nessa looks up from her hot chocolate when Danika slides into the seat across from her, asking a million questions. She sips her drink and wipes the whip cream off her lip before answering strategically, “I wanted to match the colors of the group, I was standing out too much. I have been adapting… They know who my ex is, we have talked and I told Angie and Aalyah and it went well. We are now all just getting harassed by them to have children…” Nessa’s leg bounces up and down rapidly and she begins to chew on her nails again.

“I’m fairly sure Rey is terrified at the concept of us adding children to the melting pot at this moment…” Danika exhales, as Tommy approaches with her White Chocolate Mocha and what looks like a pile of cookies. Nessa immediately grabs one, when Tommy is close enough, as Danika continues to talk, “So, the ex, he must be in the Industry if you're worried about it.” Danika doesn’t phrase it like a question, knowing the answer to a point, Tommy settles both down and heads away, Danika sips her drink, smiling at the warmth.

“I’m not so worried about that, I'm processing that trauma and am never alone when in an arena or event… Yes he is in the company, not just the industry. I know they would never let anything happen. Hunter……. Well I have issues with him but he at leasts is investigating the allegations from others especially since I have now told him but ….. I would love to hit him with his sledgehammer right now.”

“I know where that is in the vault, if you’d like directions.” Danika grins warmly, “Met Scrap Daddy yet?”

Nessa smirks, trying to hide it behind another drink of her hot chocolate. “The Scrappiest of Daddies. Yes and apparently I earned his respect when I said I’d go for his job when he implied I wasn’t a real wrestler. Oh yeah I’m training heavy on it right now. We have had some incidents because of Jefe. And with what I just found out… if it gets out… I’m screwed”

“Ohhh, earned it. I just demanded it.” Danika’s smile is one of mischief, “Although I’m pretty sure either of us could competently do Scrap’s job… no one is a real wrestler in the beginning, that’s why it’s called pro-wrestling, you have to become a professional, and to do that you have to be given a chance, did you hook up with those girls I told you about? And Jefe incidents for you are probably about as fun as Angie incidents for me, and whatever you just found out we can compare to Dominik got arrested at Christmas and spent many nights in jail.” Danika said it all in one go, then realized Nessa probably would prefer it if she didn’t drop bombs and rapidly talk.

“Uh well I demanded more training from Hunter who gave in too easily and now I know why. Asuka, Zelina and Indi are currently training me as well as our lovely partners. Like you, I now have many marks on my neck to keep covered. Courtesy of mainly Luis and Dems. Dom leaves his marks below the collar. After we returned from a week off to help Dems I was all… marked up and had it covered but people saw before it was covered and Jefe made Zelina go off script and hold me down wiping off the makeup… DOMINIK MISSED CHRISTMAS!... Yeah that beats my thing, we don't even need to bring it up. Are you ok! How are the kids?” Nessa rapidly asks when she processes the last thing Danika said.

“We are talking about your ex in the company and the thing you got blindsided by, we aren’t cruising by that. However, for now, I’ll explain.” Danika grabs a cookie and bites into it savagely, “Angie called the real police to a kayfabe story.” Danika pauses to grab another cookie to brutalize as Nessa whispers bitch. “The whole household was fucking messy. Like - it was Jace and Angel’s first Christmas with us, and Dom was so upset he missed it, and like he got hurt, not badly, but bad enough.” Danika pauses, thinking again, “Fergal was amazing through it all, and Luis came to the rescue, we borrowed The Bella's cabin in Canada, and AJ is no longer even remotely associated with us, he got injured, and is out. Uh, oh - oh - Rey and Dom made up after everything, and Rey is maybe flirting too close to the sun with Liv.” Danika’s on her fourth cookie.

Nessa munches on the cookies like she is eating popcorn watching a telenovela and nodding along proudly when she hears about AJ’s injury and non association but chokes on the cookie hearing about Jefe and Liv. Tom appears and sets down a glass of water in front of Nessa and pats her back before walking off again. Danika waits for her to recover, before adding the juicy bit of information, “He touched the butt on live TV, Nes, the butt.” Danika’s pitch is scandalized and a bit worried. Nessa begins to giggle uncontrollably once she stops choking.Sobering up Danika offers, “They are good together, like… I hate to say it but they really do seem to find comfort in each other, and if it makes Jefe happy, it makes us happy. Aalyah is a bit, uh, grossed out sometimes, Dom I think is proud that Jefe’s still got it.”

“As gross as that is, I get it. Angie and Jefe are arguing he wants to disown Dom until he comes back but she isn’t having it. She actually said that all of the Judgement Day are now her kids and any kid by any of them are her grandchildren. We can’t go a day without being harassed about grandchildren.” Nessa jokes and looks out the windows nervously before yawning. “Sorry it’s late here. We just finished Backlash and I’m in Puerto Rico so we got that out of the way early.” Nessa shrugs and eats another cookie.

“It’s early for me,” Danika admits, “It’s January sixteenth, Jefe has pretty much adopted Fergie, Luis, and Dems.” Danika admits, “Angie keeps tabs on us through Vickie, uh, Vickie Guerrero, I’m not sure how close your Dom is with Vic or the Guerrero girls, la familia.” For a moment Danika is silent then, “Did you get to meet Luis’ family? In Puerto Rico? He hasn’t let me meet his familia, I’m meeting Kevin Nash instead, he’s basically his wrestling daddy, other than Scott Hall, who I met as a teenager, but can’t meet again…” Nessa winces hearing his name and shoves a whole cookie in her mouth to buy some time. “Oh shit, please tell me Kevin Nash is not your psycho ex!” Danika almost lunges over the table to grab at Nessa’s hands in worry. Nessa rapidly shakes her head and continues chewing on the cookie, crumbs falling on the table, Nessa fighting back a gag while trying to swallow the cookie.

Danika visibly relaxes, then her brain catches up, “Wait a moment, what issue have you got with Nash, he’s pretty daddy as far as I know, like his old school gimmick was Big Daddy Diesel, and let me tell you, he’s big, he’s daddy energy, and he looks like he is super cuddly.” Danika ticks the things off like a research report.

Nessa gags, sticking her tongue out and dry heaves at the thoughts Danika is putting in her head. She collects herself long enough to take a sip of water and gasps a few more times to get her breathing right again. “No Luis did not want us to meet his family yet….” Nessa just ignores the Kevin sized elephant in the room.

Danika is a patient person, with those she loves, honestly, but, “What's the Kevin Issue, it’s that or the ex. We learned last time we don’t get to leave once the door shuts until we talk about everything. Not that I want to leave you but with the hour limit I’d like to get the icky stuff out of the way and then start the fun, like the gifts I brought you…” She pouts a little bit.

Nessa gasps and holds out her hands making a grabby motion and pouts wanting the gifts right away.

“Good girls get gifts, that’s what Luis taught me, you're not being very good now are you.” Danika counters.

“Hey no domming without informed consent you aren't my Dom so knock it off… Please,” Nessa pouts harder.

Danika rolls her eyes, her Dominik and this Nessa are cut from the same baby girl cloth, seriously. “Fine.” She says evenly, “You can have one gift for one question.” A smirk lights up her face, “Whatever your issue with Nash is, the sooner you tell me the sooner we can figure it out, and I’ll even let you choose which gift you unwrap first.” It’s a slight manipulation and tiny powerplay, but Danika’s worried about Nessa. “And you still haven’t told me about the hair, like did you just do it or did you get permission… asking for a friend. .”

“Danika, while I appreciate a good bribe, I don’t appreciate manipulations. I have dealt with that too much. That being said. I just did it. Remember I have control over my style…” Nessa holds out a hand expectantly for one of her gifts since she answered a question.

“Sorry, I guess I’m used to leveraging things to get what I want, growing up the not-daughter daughter of Rey Myesterio does that to a girl, but… good on you for defending yourself. I forgot how your contract is massively different from mine,” Danika pauses, thinking, “Would you like the Damo, Dominik, Rhea, or Finn gift, ooooor the one I brought just for you?”

“Dominik gift please…” Nessa bats her eyelashes, her hand still outstretched.

“I wish you were in my world, you're precious and I’d keep you.” Danika turns to dig through the bag, producing a simple blue and gold wrapped square, she hands it off with a smile, waiting for Nessa to tear it open so she can explain the gift. Nessa gently unwraps it like she is trying to save the wrapper, but really she is trying to annoy Danika who pushed her buttons. Danika has never met another person who takes care in unwrapping to Angie-Mysterio levels, but apparently Nessa does, as someone who has spent many Christmas’ waiting, she just sighs and sits back, watching.

Nessa sees that Danika is not reacting the way she expected so she just pouts and finishes unwrapping it seeing a picture of Eddie and Dominik. “That was taken a month before Eddie died, it’s the last time they spent any time together. It was a Guerrero party, not that that’s important, but there is only one other copy of it in my world, and I had to get Vickie to make copies. My Dom didn’t have it, and I’m pretty sure your Dom doesn’t, so, if you ever wanna make him cry big tears… now you can.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Well if I want to make him cry bitch baby tears I can just tell him I am pregnant.” Nessa gingerly runs her finger over the photograph and sets it down on the table with care, far away from any beverage or melted chocolate.

“Does Dom not want children, or would he be so happy he’d cry? I feel like there is a joke in there I’m missing, somewhere.” Danika hums, already looking for Tommy to bring her another drink.

“Yes, before he decided to be an imbecile and dump me, we were trying for a baby. When I realized he wasn’t coming back I got an IUD. Now we are back together and with the others and Ma just keeps hounding us about when we are going to try again. But I’m like we are still learning each other, it’s not the right time and she is all like ‘two of you are well past the age of when you should have had children so get started ’blah blah blah’.” Nessa bemoans, plopping back in the booth and crossing her arms.

Tommy comes back, placing a cup of tea in front of Nessa who looks up and thanks him and takes a sip, happy it is the perfect temperature. He also settles another White Chocolate Mocha in front of Danika who blows him a kiss in thanks before gazing at Nessa, “I, uh, I’m going off birth control, I haven’t really talked to the others about it, but it makes me icky.”

“I have an appointment next month to get mine out. It is causing me pain, like, constantly. Though I am all for starting a family, but idk how the others besides Damian feels and maybe Dom. It is something we all agreed has to be agreed by all because big decisions are a group decision and that is one of the biggest decisions. I talked to Luis about it and he has talked to the others but they haven’t talked to me and I am waiting on that. Though I should tell you what Luis said to Angie when she was harassing them over the phone,” Nessa smiles, thinking that Danika forgot about the other issue.

“You can tell me what Luis said, but I still wanna know what your issues with Daddy Kevin are and the ex. Then I can tell you more of my current problems.” Danika offers, sliding a blood red gift toward Nessa, this one is the one that Danika had wrapped while thinking of Rhea, and Nessa.

“You are the most infuriating woman…” Nessa complains then continues, “I am paraphrasing because he said it in Spanish and you know how the translations go, he started with I then changed to we…” Nessa blushes and watches for Danika’s reaction before continuing, Danika to her credit only hums, curious. “We would love to give you grandchildren, as many as possible and that she would make a perfect grandma… I almost went to the bathroom to rip out the IUD myself at that point.”

“You are not the first person to call me infuriating, at this point I just count it as flirting.” Danika settles back and thinks about what Nessa said, then, “Angie is a good Abuela.” She offers diplomatically. “Now, about that thing with Daddy Diesel.” At this point Danika is just teasing her, a smile pulling on her lips, “Are you going to open the box or not.” She hums, and pushes the red wrapped gift at her again.

Nessa’s eye twitches but she grabs the gift and unwraps it normally seeing a shirt with Rhea Ripley before she was Rhea Ripley. The image of the young girl is one hundred percent Demi Bennet, with long blonde hair, and an innocent smile, the girl there hadn’t been chewed up by WWE yet, hadn’t found herself, and her power. Instead the young blonde beaming up at her was pure joy. The shirt was cropped just below Rhea’s trunks, with BENNET across the back shoulders. “That was Rhea’s first Merchandise ever made, like for the Indie Circuit, she had others made that were more popular, but we have to share it, because as far as I know it’s the only one in existence.”

Nessa squeals and hugs the shirt to her chest. “Oh my god I love it. I would wear it on Raw if I could, but I am going to wear it next time we go on a date. Oh I can’t wait to see her face!” Nessa plans and taps her feet excitedly under the table. She continues hugging it to her chest and takes a deep breath. “Hunter gave me such a good contract because he knows my father,” Nessa admits and continues, “They are like best friends and I was kind of ambushed after the show. The others don’t know I just freaked out and texted them I was going on a walk and probably to a coffee shop since I knew I needed to vent and calm down I’d probably find this place here since it is like the TARDIS and going where I need it to go.”

“If Hunter is close with your dad that limits who your dad could be - uh XPac? Shawn? Road Dog? Billy Gun? Oh, wait, fuck, Nash is your father!” Danika looked at her with wide eyes, grabbing a cookie for herself, “Jesus, fuck, Dios, do you exist in my world?” She wonders aloud, head tilted back thinking hard.

“Yeahhhh… Come to find out my Dad, the one that was abusive growing up knew and that was why he did it. Though he wouldn’t grant the Get… the divorce, the Rabbi had to force it by convening a rabbinical court and issuing a decree because even getting shunned he wouldn’t give her the Get. Until someone beat some sense into him literally…” Nessa’s eyes widen a realization coming to her but she continues, “Nash paid for everything, even my nursing school. I am just blindsided by this and don’t know how to go forward or even tell the others…” Nessa sips her tea.

“Your step-dad sounds like a fucking asshole, good on the Rabbi who saw the need though. Kevin is about as subtle as a brick, so I’m going to guess he just dropped that shit on you, with no preface. If your Luis has a relationship with Nash, go through him, Nash and Hall, uh, Scott Hall, were big influences in Luis’ persona as a wrestler, and he loves them both very much. Knowing that Nash is your father he could help facilitate you two meeting in a favorable way, probably not at his house, his wife is grieving a son, still.” Danika leaned into the table a bit more subdued.

“I think that is part of the reason why he is reaching out now. One he has learned about my past, things Mom didn’t tell him and he was worried when he saw the marks. And two as a way to heal himself and earn forgiveness for the slight he views that he did against me. He doesn’t want to lose his last child I guess and I can’t hold that against him… But why now, why not before, or when I turned 18… or even after the divorce.” Nessa’s eyes fill with tears and she sniffles, using her sleeve to wipe her nose then eyes.

Danika slides out of her side of the booth, and carefully joins Nessa, to hug her and help her clean her face off, “Kevin has his demons, all wrestlers do from his generation, and hell, our generation. I have a feeling Kevin kept his distance to protect you. It’s not easy to be in a wrestling family, I’m not blood, but the adoption made me a Nepo baby. There is a lot of like… negativity that comes with being one of their children, everyone deals with it differently. I made my own brand, and… oh, shit you don’t know.” Danika looks at her carefully, “I worked with Impact, first, then AEW, I still have a ghost contract with them, and now I’m signed to WWE. I was never not going to be in the business, Kevin might have thought he was giving you an out…” She offered, sadly.

“That's what I am afraid of. Hunter didn’t know when I first applied which is why it got ignored. But when Rey came with the idea and pictures he knew and was on board. I am a Nepo baby, and when - not if - it gets out. I’m realistic, it will get out eventually and it is going to be so bad.” Nessa taps the table with her finger, other things still on her mind. “Other things are bugging you or you wouldn’t be here either. Let's take a break from me please.”

Danika hums, “Fair enough, uh, so… the biggest thing I’m dealing with is the fact that Shelton Benjamin is an absolute piece of shit and did this interview with Logan Paul, I think I mentioned he’s one of my best friends, either way he tried to like steer this whole narrative about how Demi and Luis are abusing us, and like…” She exhales sharply, Nessa grabs her hand to lend support, “So, the thing is, Fergie has barely accepted who we are to one another, let alone admit that he’s happy with us, and Vero, uh, Fergie’s soon to be ex-wife, has been on the warpath lately, so… both of them are pushing these shitty narratives about our dynamics, and I want to pitch this idea to Hunter and Scrap Daddy about me and Damo both being with Finn…”

“Well yes do it, I love that so much. OH yeah Scrap Daddy told me and Luis to be more affectionate on camera even though I just like started and we are barely just now dating but ok no problem. He held me and touched the butt on TV like your Jefe with Liv. And that is so gross about Shelton Benjamin, did the interview air? How are you going to deal with that?”

“So far Logan is holding the interview from airing, he wants us to talk about it and do an interview with him before it airs, if it ever airs, he might end up cutting snippets out of it, we aren’t sure. As far as dealing with it, next time I see that bastard I’m going to throw ring dust in his eyes.” She grinned violently, “The only other thing I’m panicking about is Buddy and Aalyah’s marriage, which I’m sure they will want me to plan.” She exhales bothered.

“Wedding planning is hard love, you do so much for everyone you need a break from what I hear from you.” Nessa nudges Danika’s side and sips her drink again.

“You know while I agree with you, I’m the only one of us with a formal manager, TJ Wilson - he’s married to Nattie, pretty sure in every single universe.” Danika grabs her own drink and sips it, “I have a vacation planned, I’m going to Dems in a couple weeks, then she’s going on to Australia with Jace and Lainey.” Danika offers. Then studying Nessa for a moment, she leaned over the paper to snag a black wrapped box, that was larger than the other two, and passed it to Nessa, “This is for Damo.” She grabs another cookie.

Nessa rips the paper off like a little kid and laughs seeing it is a replica of the 1960’s batmobile and that it is an RC car. “Oh he is going to love this. So, the plan is to go back with these gifts like I spent the time getting these ready for them because I can’t sneak all this back in the hotel room for a later date” Nessa halfway seriously asks, trying to control herself from opening the box and playing with the car. Their time is limited.

“I think we can probably play with the car a little bit, I’ve been dying to. I bought Luis one in my world, and it’s wrapped to give to him as a surprise. I mean, you can trade bags with me, I fit them all in my messenger bag?” Danika offers, unsure.

“I didn’t bring a bag, I literally ran out of the arena.” Nessa looks at her apologetically.

“Well shit.” Danika mutters, then looks toward the counter, “Maybe Tommy can help?” The man does not appear when summoned, “Maybe he’s like BeetleGuise and you have to say his name like three times? Chant it backwards, write it in blood, promise your first born-” Before she can get that out, he appears disgruntled, holding out a large brown paper bag with Tilted Dimensions across the front, “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” She sasses as she grabs it.

“Thank you Theta,” Nessa smiles at him and throws her arms up in success when he shushes her. “Take me with youuuuuu.” She whines and lays her head on the table as he walks away.

Danika snorts, hard. “Now about that ex?” She prompts, “I still have two more things for you.”

“It’s JD McDonough, we, uh, were together for a few years when we met at a live show I went to on a whim. As always it started out great but quickly went bad very bad. My saving grace was when he got signed to NXT in 2017 I refused to move with him because I found out I was pregnant and wanted to stay near my mom and with my job that had good benefits. That went about as well as you expect.” Nessa stares ahead, getting trapped in the memory, her hand resting on her stomach.

“I take it, the baby didn’t make it.” Danika’s voice is soft, “I lost a baby between the twins and Angel.” She offers, seriously, “It takes forever to heal, emotionally.” She adds, reflective, “And he’s in NXT in my world, actually semi-friendly with Fergal.”

Nessa comes back to the present with a hm before processing what Danika said. “Yeah, about a month after. I told him we were over, never told him about the baby and the distance helped. Dom, Dom really helped me with that, and the hospital mandated therapy. Sometimes it is still so raw but, I was, I am ready for the next chapter and to try with them. Finn, he was the most vocal in his defense when another woman spoke up, but I know Dom would never willingly associate with someone who is ok with that type of person. Finn apologized to me a few days after he found out who. The problem is JD has since been drafted to Raw with the rest of us. Which is why I am never alone.”

Danika tosses an arm around Nessa, snuggling into her, as she pushes the last two gifts at her, one is wrapped in some sort of Irish themed paper the other in deep purple. “I’m glad you found Dom. I’m glad you found your way back to Dom.” She amends, then, “I’m glad you found them, your Judgment Day.” Danika considers what Nessa said about Finn, before adding, “Fergie has changed so much in his time with us, I’m fairly sure he can’t stand the thought of AJ or JD anymore, but we haven’t had the chance to interact with JD, yet. I’m sure it won’t go well, you should talk to Hunter about him, I know it’s scary, but Hunter is one of the biggest protectors of the women's locker room, a part of me thinks it because of how dirty he treated Chyna towards the end, but I have no concrete proof.”

“I… I’m not exactly happy with him, but I think he knows and has a plan up his sleeve. We were in his office after the Zelina/Jefe incident and Damo brought it up and I kinda froze. Hunter then started sending a barrage of texts, some I assume to Nash, the rest to others. Now that I think about it the Usos and Roman have been lurking a lot as well as Ava and others in the locker room…” Nessa realizes as she speaks, “Ohhh he is laying a trap”

“Hunter finds his hands tied by the board a lot more than I think he wants them to be, but he’s clever, sneaky to a point, if he’s got a plan, then you have nothing to worry about. I don’t say this about many men, but you can trust him, and if you get a chance to know TJ, you can trust him too. The Bloodline tends to help me keep up with my kids on the road, not going to lie, Tio Roman is a fan favorite with my kids.”

“Roman is a sweetheart, so afraid of his cancer coming back is always up my ass for a checkup. And …. Fuck he knows about Nash!. Am I the last person to know…!” Nessa realizes when thinking about their past interactions. “He always asked about my dad and how my childhood was, I thought he was just curious. Sneaky fucker.”

“Roman Reigns is never just curious.” Danika snickers, “It’s good he has you, Nes.” Danika offers, with a smile, “Someone who can tell him and he trusts to keep it under wraps. I help him plan shit, from time to time. We sort of are angling for a tentative truce with them, so that’ll be fun kayfabe wise. As far as you being the last to know about your dad, I doubt it. Nash traveled with Kishi, uh Rikishi, Roman’s uncle, I’d imagine the Attitude Boys and Divas know, but the youngbloods and new kids probably don’t.”

“Well that makes sense.” Nessa comments and eats another cookie.

“Hey, not to one hundred degree change the topics, but you gotta open these and next time if you are more comfortable with your training I can teach you my finisher.” Danika smiles almost evilly.

“Oh I would love that… Please. I learned Zelina’s DDT. I can’t do the Riptide even if I tried.” Nessa agrees and opens the present clearly meant for Finn, inside is a lego set that both girls know he’s been looking for (he’d started looking in late 2018 and had yet to track it down, it is something he bemoans from time to time). The Old Trafford, Manchester United Stadium lego set in pristine condition in Nessa’s hands had to cost Danika a fortune, and if she was giving Nessa one, that meant Danika had found two. Nessa sits there shocked and in awe. “You didn’t have to do that, this is too much… shit.” Nessa forces out, guilt setting in that she didn’t bring anything for Danika, she was too in her feelings.

“From personal experience the RipTide is a bitch to take.” Danika for a moment looked traumatized, “I’m going to assume by your face that your Finn has also been after this.” Danika taps the box. “Hey, he really wants it, trust me. And I’m not trying to be mean, but judging by our previous discussion on job history, and money, I sort of… assumed that we could agree money isn’t an issue for me, and although this set is rather expensive, Finn in every world deserves it.” The way Danika says Finn’s name is twisted with love and a bit of bitter pain.

“Ok spill what is wrong with your Finn?” Nessa asks, hearing the twinge in Danika’s voice.

“My Fergie keeps running away. Like, we all told him how we felt about him - and it’s all of us, like Dom suggested we just hold him down and kiss him, but consent is sexy ok, so that obviously didn’t happen.” Danika frowned, “Vero really fucked his head up.” She settled on, “Or maybe all his previous relationships did, I don’t know. What I do know is he seems to think he is unlovable and broken, and just… bleah.” She whined, “Jefe keeps handing him Twizzlers like that will just make it all better, Dom likes those more than anything, but Finn keeps giving them to Dom and Liv - because apparently Finn likes red vines, and Dios, that was word vomit, oops.” Danika giggled awkwardly.

“My Dom likes them too, honestly they are a part of foreplay through aftercare with him.” Nessa smirks, enjoying the payback from earlier as Danika wrenches loudly, obviously bothered.

“Please never tell me what the Twizzlers do.” Danika dropped her forehead onto the table letting out an exasperated noise, “Ewwww. I’m never going to eat another Twizzler offered to me from Liv’s bra again.”

“Ohhh Twizzlers in a bra I’mma start doing that and eating them while I valet the matches!” Nessa exclaims, excited by the idea.

“Well they are never cold.” Danika offered, unbothered, still face down. “And you never know when you need a snack.” She adds, almost giggling, before raising up to look at Nessa again, “Open that one, it’s yours.” Nessa rips it open, tossing the paper behind her and seeing a small brown leather journal, “It’s a recipe book, I put some of everyones favorites in, and then some that I know other superstars like, since I do a bit of like a YouTube cooking channel, if you ever need to befriend Bianca, her favorite Japanese meal is in there.” Danika offers when Nessa doesn’t immediately say anything, “And you mentioned you liked to cook, I have uh, three of these, the journals come from Barnes and Noble…”

“Oh thank you, this is going to help so much!” Nessa starts flipping through the first couple pages and seeing annotations about who they are for and good times for the meals.

“I might have cornered Becky Lynch at some point to find out what Fergie’s favorite foods are, and I got Buddy and uh Bronson Reed - he’s a meatball, let me know when you’ve met him - to tell me normal Austrailian celebration dishes, and then I talked Zelina into giving me traditional Puerto Rican food, which was a whole issue because she hates me…” Danika offers, smiling softly.

“Well she can get over herself.” Nessa responds to the Zelina-comment.

“I get why she hates me, though.” Danika sighs, “She has this misconception that I’m appropriating culture.”

“How, you were literally adopted and raised in that… wow your Zelina had issues.”

“I don’t think she sees it as me being raised in the culture.” Danika shrugs, “I mean at some point we are going to have to talk about, especially with Creative pushing Edge toward re-starting the LWO, but… right now we sort of just avoid each other. I think she dislikes my relationship with Damian, too, but I don’t really get it, she isn’t throwing nearly as much heat behind the scenes at Demi who is publicly only dating a Latino, ahem Dominik, too.” Danika shrugs again, “My Zelina has a lot of issues, I’ll agree. I’m glad yours is better.”

“Mine is trying to teach me Spanish so I can speak it and not just understand it… but it isn’t sticking lol like I can’t pull the words from my brain to translate to spanish. But she is patient with that, not with training. She is kicking my ass but I am all the better for it.” Nessa bites into another cookie and continues talking while chewing to see Danika’s reaction.

“It is admittedly hard to learn a language the older you get. Picking up Japanese when I was seventeen was a bitch. Oh, did your Luis do Ring of Honor too? If so, he totally knows Japanese…” Danika smiles warmly, then adds, “I could suggest some tricks for picking up the Spanish so you're more fluent?” Danika thinks for a moment, “So, uh this next question is hopefully not going to be super disrespectful… So when I joined the Gutiérrez family I was questionably Southern Baptist, naturally I converted to Catholicisim, specifically the Americanized version of Roman Catholicism… with Nash as your father… like isn’t Judisim passed through the parents, like don’t both your parents have to be Jewish for you to be considered… I dunno, worthy? Are you still allowed to be Jewish?” The last little bit comes out in a rush, Danika likes knowing more about different religions in general, but her upbringing (in both households) has left her with a bit less time to study them.

“Oh it doesn’t matter who the father is, it's all to do with the mother. If the mother is Jewish then so is the child. Is the simplest way to describe it. Next time I can explain more since we have more things to cover right now” Nessa waves her hand dismissively.

Danika shoots her a relieved smile, glad that her lack of knowledge didn’t blunder their friendship, considering she’d already sort of been bad. “That’s good. I lowkey can’t wait to hear about you and Nash bonding.” Nessa looks at her warily,

“I don’t know about that. He had a lot of time to come forward after the divorce like I said. And 8 years after I turned 18. I don’t know how much bonding we can really do… Do you think when we have kids I can raise them Jewish at the very least teach them of their heritage. I know Dom, Luis and Finn are catholic and Rhea is Christian oh this is gonna be a problem isn’t it.” Nessa plops her head down on the table repeatedly, the thunking filling the small cafe.

“Uh, my Dems is Catholic coded, but - I don’t think you will have a problem.” Danika waves her off, “Let me see, when Dom and I had the twins, we did traditional familia names from his side of the family, but but he let me have them both baptized in the Catholic way and the Southern Baptist way, no offense to the Catholics, I’m not sure what throwing some Holy Water at an infant does, best to just dunk them completely under and wash the sins of the parents off early…” She mutters the last part, sounding a bit like Angie and Rey. Shaking her head she adds, “I don’t know how much you know about Nash’s son, the one he lost, but Tristian struggled with Alcoholism, during his sobriety journey, which… I might be off a bit but probably a lot of that after you were eighteen time, Nash was focused on getting his son sober, and the sobriety fucking killed him, like it was a seizure brought on by his body pushing back on the lack of alcohol.” Danika explains evenly, “Rey, my Rey, was so broken open, for him, we all prayed for Kev and his wife, Tamara.”

“So you mean to say I’ve lost both brothers to drugs and alcohol then, and I guess I get it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. My whole world has been turned upside down, and what if this gets out… I’m supposed to have my first match soonish…..” Another look of realization crosses Nessa’s face, “Son of a Bitch”.

“Which son of a bitch are we cursing now, beebs?” Danika grabs for another cookie. “If it’s Tio Adam, er, Edge, then we can curse him and wish for a child to be named after him in the Jewish sense, not the Catholic sense.”

“No it's Cody’s ass, he knew and before his match with Finn came up to me and said that we, this new generation needs to stick together. He fucking knows and gave me his and his wifes number.” Nessa explains.

“Oh, I’d been meaning to ask if you’d met Cody. He trained me at the Nightmare Factory.” Danika beams for a moment, then, “Dusty knew Kev, so does Dustin - Cody’s older brother, they are pretty tight even with Dustin in AEW.” Danika offers, “So Cody probably thought you knew by the sounds of it. Him and Brandi are good people, you should know I’m biased because our kids are friends, but they both love wrestling, and both are very devoted to the children of past Wrestlers.”

Nessa sips her tea, “Well I think it is clear to him now I didn’t know, we, that being our lovely idiots jokes about my dad not being my dad and mom having some explaining to do.” Nessa sighs heavily. “I have to talk to Kevin don’t I?”

“Not to be that person, but yeah, you absolutely do. Nessa Nash has a hell of a ring to it. I mean, as far as ring names. It’s probably cooler than Danika Mysterio.” Danika offers, attempting to cheer her up, “And as far as having a parent in the business, Nash is probably one of the better ones. He got his life sorted, and together. He’s not… he’s not a bad man.” Danika offers, reassuringly, “If anything, he’s been misunderstood for a long time. It could frankly be worse, could you imagine being the love child of Chyna and Hunter? The Industry wouldn’t know how to handle that, just… trust the other legacies, they can guide you through how to be a legacy without being super Charolett about it, or like Cody about it where he’s obsessively in love with his father’s fame to the point he wants to finish his father’s story.” Danika thinks for a moment, “Maybe don’t trust Edge though, he likes stepping on legacies to get what he wants, other than recent stuff, just the whole fake-married-to-Vickie-Guerrero bit after Eddie’s death should be enough warning.” Danika devours her cookie with a sad look.

“Well I’ve not had a run in with him thankfully. I guess after Raw I’ll meet up with Kevin with one of the group, maybe Dom. I need someone who isn’t really close to him to be my support and the way you describe Luis and Kevin's relationship makes me worried Luis will try to push a bond. Dom would be squarely on my side that I know. But wouldn’t Luis be hurt if I didn't choose him? As for the other legacies, I think I will, we know Roman knows and already supports me… the bastard, and I guess I'll do that.”

“Dom is your best bet, Demi is a huge fan of Nash, and Fergie is friendly with him, they’ve worked together in the past.” Danika thinks about her question in regards to Luis, “I think Luis would ultimately understand, you just have to be open and explain it to him - you aren’t sure if you're ready to have a real relationship with Nash, and you don’t want Luis to be negatively impacted if something goes wrong between the pair of you. If Roman knows about your relationship to Nash you can bet the twins and Solo do too, so don’t let that catch you off guard, and probably Heyman as well.” Danika reminds.

“Well I know the twins know, they were dropping hints when I did their checkups before Backlash. I honestly think all the legacies know or figured it out…”

“They too are about as subtle as a brick to the face.” Danika hums. “No one really talks about this outside of the Industry but there are two classes of wrestlers, born wrestlers like the legacies who tell each other everything even if they don’t like each other and those who fought their way in. Through adoption I get the legacy flag, just like you get it through Nash. There is a division, and it sucks, no matter how hard you try to shake it off, but you're probably right. One legacy knows, and they all do, and their spouses.” Danika offers, sadly, “So, quick question, our worlds tend to be similar enough, how bad is it when Edge restarts the LWO, like is Rey heartbroken? Does Chavo Guerrero have shit to say? How does Dominik handle it?”

“Oh Jefe started it after Dom betrayed him, Dom is hurt and Edge is MIA since Wrestlemania. Chavo from what I hear is not happy with it either. And he has been in constant contact with Dom.” Nessa starts fiddling with the plate of cookies, unsure if she wants to grab another.

“I’m sorry, fucking what? Rey hated LWO when he was bullied into it the first time, why in the fucking world would he have restarted what he saw as a discrimination group against most wrestlers, that were by and large the answer to NWO without ever being able to handle the fucking…” Danika’s rant tapers off, and is replaced by a bit of giggling. “Oh god…” She trails off, “Chavo must be pissed in your world, he always felt like Eddie replaced him with Rey, and your Rey just fucking…” Danika’s laughter is getting louder and louder, sides shaking a bit, “That is… that is so… Oh I wish I could tell the others.” She finishes, giggling harder. Nessa can’t help it but starts giggling as well at how absurd it all is.

“I pray Jefe comes around, if he doesn’t it will just Kill Dom.” Nessa softly says out loud once the giggles die down.

“Dominik is a lot stronger than most people give him credit for, we both know that. My Dominik had to discover that his real father was Eddie, that Angie cheated on Rey, and that Angie blamed Rey for her infidelity, and that her hatred of one act of perceived kindness from Eddie has now caused her to regret Dominik… Your Rey, while a bastard, doesn’t sound like he’s taken it to that level, just yet. Even with him being worried about your marks, he’s still Jefe, still trying to protect, he just can’t understand yet.” Danika, sobering up from her giggles, admits, “Rey wants to restart the Filthy Animals, as a secondary stable to our Judgment Day, his own nod to Konnan.”

“I wish I had your Jefe,” Nessa groans, “I could tell him and not Angie that I am getting my IUD out.”

“Oh, Madre is gonna want them babies.” Danika teases.

“She is already harassing us about it, and Benito. Hunter dropped hints as well. LIke damn give us some time to figure things out please. I may have had sex with Dom but I don’t think we are back to that… yet…”

“When the time is right, the time is right.” Danika shrugs her shoulders, “Angie was livid when Dominik and I first got pregnant. She wanted us to get married. Not happening, we both agreed we wanted to marry for love, and now that we are a polycule like… marriage is hard.”

“Marriage is hard normally, I think it is hilarious we are talking about kids and not marriage, but something might come up in the future. You know, thank you for making me feel better, I feel more grounded. Who knows maybe next time I will be pregnant…” Nessa jokes, the wish clearly in her voice.

“I will do my solid best to bring Angel next time I see this place, so you can cuddle a half Dominik baby.” Danika promises. “And if you want to be pregnant, then do it, your career isn’t wrestling, you told me that yourself. With women like Maryse getting storylines while pregnant I’m sure you can too.” Danika adds, “In my AEW contract, and my WWE contract, I have a stipulation that guarantees if I am injured or otherwise unable to compete I get to be a manager or I get to be an assistant to the GM.” She flashes a predatory smile, “I worked my ass off to get those assurances.”

“That is a good idea, I think I am going to read over my contract again. Knowing Jefe he might have done something like that knowing him and Ma.” Nessa taps her chin.

“The caveat to that, for me anyways, is that I don’t get to have a creative say in my hair or clothing or my characterization.” Danika shrugs.

“Yet I have that for the most part. I’m just lucky I'm in a story with Luis and we are all actually together. Like last Monday in kayfabe, Benito called me a whore after hitting me with the kendo stick. Poor thing felt so bad after and then proceeded to harass me for nieces and nephews again.” Nessa hums thinking, before adding, “Apparently we are going for a love square between me, Dems, Dom and Damo. I don’t think that will work… Oh shit yeah we just blew past your Finn problems. Honestly you might just have to sit him down and go hey we love you like we love each other and just reiterate how much you love him and that he is worthy. It's like the negative you hear it enough you believe it but this time with positives” Nessa glances at the clock, frowning as she realizes that time has gotten away from them again and they have less than ten minutes until the hour is up.

“I wish I could say we hadn’t already thought about that in the case of Fergie.” Danika tracked Nessa’s gaze, and sighed, “Ten minute warning, huh, doesn’t Tommy normally-” Her sentence trailed off as the man himself reappeared from the back with new drinks for them both, a bag for Nessa, and two different delicately wrapped pastry boxes. “Hey, Sergeant Tom, while I’ve got you here,” Danika snagged his wrist, batting her lashes up at him, “Next time, instead of a kitchen back there, think we can have a wrestling ring?”

The man gave her an exasperated look, “Contrary to you're believes, Ms. Danika, this is not the Room of Requirement, from Harry Potter.” That made Danika snort, “However, there are things that… just like myself, will appear when they are needed.” He gave her a wink, before he looked to Nessa, “I hope you enjoyed your visit, Ms. Nessa.” With that he wiggled out of Danika’s grip and headed for the back.

“You know, I still don’t know if he’s the TARDIS or if this building is the TARDIS…” Danika mumbled under her breath, before sliding out of the bench seat, she’d slid into so she could hug Nessa, she stretched her arms above her head, before moving to lean against the opposite side of the booth, stretching again, popping her back and shoulders before rolling her neck just right, the crackling noises made her grin and hum contentedly before she slid into her side of the booth again, “So, now we have eight minutes.” She offers, looking at her watch, “I don’t think goodbyes are going to get any easier.”

"No, I don't think so. I wish we existed in the same universe so we didn't have to meet only when things go to shit. I think when I get back to the hotel I'll tell them as a group about Kev." Nessa looks at Danika sadly.

Danika tried to give her a reassuring smile, “I’m sure Kevin Nash won’t be the hurdle you think he is. I’ll talk with the others and figure out how to prove to Finn that we love him, and want him for more than just sex… although I imagine the sex is going to be delicious…” Danika trails off, clearly thinking about Finn, his abs, and the implications of getting him naked in her bed.

"OH THAT REMINDS ME!" Nessa startles the other woman with her shout, making Danika shrink away, her hands instinctively coming up to her ears, it’s the first time Nessa has seen any of the scars she assumed Danika had from her upbringing, frankly it's a different sort of unsettling with how Danika presents herself, charismatic and larger than life. Nessa blushes and continues this time quieter, "So they came back after Dom and I did the bing bing and of course Damo was pouty. But Dems said we both want her under us soon and Finn said all of us."

Danika relaxes and rolls her eyes, “Who wouldn’t want one of us in their beds, honestly. We are a whole meal… Did you just call sex bing bing?” A smile pulls at her lips, before she’s giggling again, “Bing bing… That is… you're my official favorite human.”

Nessa blushes harder at the praise and tries to defend herself,"it's less vulgar than the other words and .. well… shut up" Nessa tries to hide her face, even though the older of the two it’s clear she’s more modest and respectful about certain things.

Danika snickers hard, “Vulgar is a fun word,” Then adds, “I’m not sure what our idiots call it, but unless they are being romantic about it, I think we universally just call it fucking around. Not important, we are running out of time.” Danika pouts, “So, you are headed back to the hotel and are going to talk to your idiots about Nash - I’m going back to Ohio to talk convince Fergie that we really do love him, and then I’m going to squish Shelton Benjamin and Vero Rodriguez under my killer heels.” She wiggled her eyebrows elaborately, and pretended to squish the napkin on the table with her fist.

"Yes and I'll keep the boys from catching a case on JD as well. Now that I think about itIi have to add Kevin to that list…" Nessa realizes as Danika nods along empathetically - over protective father figures can be the worst, even if they are only doing what their hearts demand.

Tommy cleared his throat from behind the counter, “Not to rush you ladies, but…” He tapped the clock ticking on the counter, they had under three minutes.

“And yet you will.” Danika levels him with a rather unimpressed look, before sliding out of her side of the booth, grabbing her bag, and moving to help Nessa stack all of her gifts together so they can muscle them into the large bag Tommy had brought Nessa, settling the box of pastries on top of the gifts. “So… obviously, we needn’t try to find this place, it finds us.” She offers meekly. Tears sting at her eyes, she’s never been particularly good at goodbyes.

"Hey Tommy, will it find us for good stuff too, not just the bad?" Nessa asks, tears pricking her eyes as well, pulling Danika into a tight hug. Danika hugs back just as tightly, squishing her face into Nessa’s neck, the older girl taller than her this time.

Tommy smirks, “That is completely up to the pair of you, and what your hearts need.” He taps the clock again, the minute ticking down. “Go on now.” He offers a bit sternly.

"I'll go first since I got here first," Nessa offers walking to the door, sadly not wanting to leave her friend. Danika watches her push out, and disappear from the front view of the coffee shop, for all intents and purposes, Nessa is now lost to her until the universes collide again.

“Hey, Tommy, what happens if we…” Danika turns to find him gone, “For fucksake, someone someday is going to answer the question: what happens if we leave together.” She huffs, before slamming out the door herself, scarf kicking up around her shoulders.

-/- Nessa deflates as she steps onto the sidewalk and turns around, the coffee shop no longer there, in its place was a plain brick wall. The street is abandoned save for a few people walking the opposite way down the street. She is thankful the street is well lit and she can see the hotel just a block away. She checks her phone to see only one missed call and a text from each of her partners responding to her initial text asking for some time alone to walk. She sends a quick message to the group chat, “We need to talk about Hunter just told me, I’m almost back.” sending that message opened the floodgates and her phone blew up with messages asking if she was ok and what happened to make her run out of the arena. She hugs the strap of the bag closer to herself, careful to not crush the pastries that she is going to use to bribe the others, ducking her head a bit as she takes off walking.

-/-

A light dusting of snow has landed on the sidewalk as Danika presses back out into the crisp air. She cradles the pastries closer to her chest, before taking a few steps away from the ringing bell. She looks back, amused to see that Tilted Dimensions has vanished, in its place a stone gray painted building sat vacant with a For Sale sign tacked on the window. She can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from her lips as she makes her way back to the travel bus, darting across traffic, more than eager to meet Kevin Nash now. He might not have a daughter in this universe, but she and her kids could fill in some of the holes in his heart - if he’d let her. Her heart turned sad at the thought of Finn’s little broken gaze lately, shaking the thought from her head, Nessa was right, they (Luis, Demi, Dom, and her) had to fight for him, he was more than worth it.

-/-

Nessa enters the front lobby of the hotel and goes straight to the receptionist, a sheepish look on her face.

“Excuse me miss. I’m sorry but I lost my card to my room 512, booked under the name Martinez.” Nessa informs the young woman behind the counter. The young woman with the name tag Taylor, tosses her bright red hair behind her shoulder and giggles.

“Not the first wrestler to lose their card tonight. Here you go” She activates a new card and slides it over. Nessa thankfully grabs it and holds it in her hand, her other one still holding the box of pastries. She goes to the stairs wanting to delay as much as possible not wanting to have this conversation. Five minutes later she is in front of the hotel room she shares with her partners trying to ready herself for the fussing that is about to come and the answers she is about to give. She swipes the key card and enters the room, averting her gaze and closing the door behind her. There is a silence in the room, everyone waiting for Nessa’s lead. She heads over to the bed where Dominik is sitting next to Rhea, Finn and Damian sitting opposite them. Nessa sits beside dominik, resting the messenger bag in her lap, the box of pastries on top. Her gaze still staring at the brown carpet of the hotel.

Rhea clears her throat, deciding to break the silence, “We are glad you are safe. Your text earlier worried us. Now will you tell us what had you rushing out of the arena alone at night in an unfamiliar place where you can’t really speak the language?” Rhea softly chides, her worry showing through her voice and Nessa looks up, her hands trembling as she holds out the pastry box. Rhea reaches over Dominik and grabs the box, placing it on the bed beside her. Dominik grabbing Nessa’s hand, rubbing circles into the back of it. Nessa swallows thickly, the knot in her stomach reforming.

“Uh,... I… Uh. Hunter had Kevin in the office… He uh…” Nessa sighs, slumping against Dominik, struggling to find the words.

“Did you get fined?” Finn asks, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Nessa shakes her head. “No, uh Kevin needed to talk with me….. Um… I… The betting board was right….” Nessa manages to get out, hoping they catch on quickly.

“The betting…. OH… OH A Chroí i am so sorry.” Finn realizes first and slides off the bed getting to his knees in front of Nessa, resting his hands on her knees, squeezing them to try to offer some comfort.

“What, that you are secretly a…. Oh that isn’t what had the most tallys when we went in” Damian begins to joke, the realization making his heart break for Nessa. Seeing her in such turmoil and being unable to help making him feel so useless.

“He uh, Kevin… he is…” Nessa stutters, struggling more to tell her partners, people she loves than when she told Danika. With Danika it didn’t feel so real but to say it out loud now makes it all too real.

“Kevin is what, what about the betting board?” Dominik asks, clearly confused. “Dom” Rhea softly calls his name, her tone telling him to stop. Nessa takes a deep shaky breath and swallows again.

“Kevinnashismyfatherandidontknowhowtohandlethis” Nessa blurts out, staring at the wall behind Damian and squeezing Dominiks hand a little harder. Finn gently grabs Nessa’s face to have her look at him, his eyes scanning her face.

“Say that again but slower. We don’t know how to help you if we don’t know what is wrong.” Finn soothes, his accent helping ground Nessa who nods her head, his hands following the movements as they are resting on her cheeks.

“The locker room was right, my mother… had a relationship with Kevin Nash who is my father and I don’t know how to process this” Nessa sniffles. Finn uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears that escaped before standing up, pulling Nessa up momentarily and taking her spot on the bed and pulling her onto his lap. Her messenger bag placed back on her lap.

“First Nes, I think you should talk to your mother, explain what you were told and get her side. I’m sure she has a good …” Rhea begins to try to defend Nessa’s mother but Nessa interrupts her.

“She did, he was an abusive asshole to her and then to me up until she left him. Just my luck i fell into a similar situation before Dom.” Dominik squeezes her hand and gives her a soft smile when she glances over at him. She continues on, telling them what Kevin told her before she ran out of the arena. Nessa fiddles with the flap of the bag waiting on their reactions, glancing at their faces which are a mix of pity and understanding and curiosity. Damian who is still sitting opposite Nessa is the first to speak again.

“I still think it is a good idea to talk to your mother, she would have some good insight as to what you should do next and maybe why he just now told you at 26. I also think that you should talk to Kevin. By the sounds of it you ran out of the arena without hearing him out.” Damian offers his thoughts and grabs Nessa’s hand, his chest tightening at the betrayed look she is giving him.

“I know you are close to him and look up to him and can offer me insight to him as a person but he just dropped the bomb, no lead up, flipping everything I know about my life on its head. I need you on my side in this to help me, not to push what might help someone else.” Nessa explains, trying to pull her hand back from Damian but he won’t let go. He sighs and takes a moment to collect his thoughts before responding,

“I am on your side in this, we all are and want what is best for you. I think we can all agree that at least talking to him, hearing him out once you have had time to calm down and think it through yourself will help you decide how to go forward. I promise you I will not push you to something you don’t want. If you say no the topic is dropped. I’ll even offer this Mariposa, Dom is clearly your comfort, your person, your safe space. Take him when you talk to Kev.” Damian offers, pulling her hand to his mouth and placing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. Nessa lets out a sigh of relief,

“Thats what my friend Danika thought I should do. Get your insight on Kevin and take Dom when I talk to him. Oh she also helped me find some gifts for you guys, well for me and you.” Nessa takes both her hands back, wiping the snot from under her nose and flipping the flap of the bag over. She pulls out Rhea’s shirt first handing it to her. “This is a loan of sorts, I promised we would share this shirt with her, but she figured you’d appreciate seeing it again. She is a big fan of yours” Nessa winks at Rhea who takes the shirt so gingerly Nessa thinks Rhea is afraid to rip the shirt. Treating it like a delicate antique.

“Well when you see her next thank her for me. This is actually very sweet.” Rhea smiles, setting the shirt on the bed, all of them watching what Nessa will pull out next. She pulls out the replica batman car and hands it to Damian, Finn eyeing it with Jealousy.

“Thank you Mariposa, and thank Danika whoever she is. Also, please understand if you don’t want to talk to him that is your decision and I will support it.” Damian promises, setting the box on the bed beside him, keeping a hand on the box. Nessa sighs and rests her hands on top of the messenger bag and looks Damian in his eyes.

“Damian, I know you will support it on the surface, but deep down you would want me to talk to him and at least have some sort of relationship with him. I know that you see him as a type of father figure, at least in the industry. And that is ok Luis. But thank you for trying to push your feelings aside for this.” Nessa softly calls him out but her tone holds no malice, only understanding. Damian relaxes seeing Nessa isn’t upset with him just the situation. Nessa clears her throat and gets off of Finns lap and reaches into the bag again this time pulling out the lego set and handing it to Finn whose eyes light up.

“Oh this is way better than the batmobile thank you, i’ve been looking for this everywhere! You have to tell me how much this cost your friend so i can pay her back it must have cost a fortune.” Finn turns the box over in his hands, looking like a kid at christmas and glancing at Nessa.

“She said there will be no payback. Money is no issue for her and she wanted to do something nice for her friend by treating her partners. She is the only other person I know in a relationship like ours so she is really helping me navigate things.” Nessa explains, her hand in the bag, the picture in her gentle grip, knowing this next one will be bittersweet.

“Dom, this one I don’t know how she found it but she has connections and called in a favor with a distant family member.” Nessa explains pulling out the photo of him and Eddie and handing it to him. “She thought you should have it.” Dominik takes the picture in one hand, the other tracing around Eddies figure, tears welling up in his eyes before spilling over. The grief of missing him coming to the surface. Rhea wraps both arms around him, pulling him to her chest and running her fingers through his hair. “Eddie would be so proud of the man you have become.” Nessa sits back down this time next to Dominik, resting her head on his back, wrapping her arms around around them while they allow Dominik to cry, getting out his hurt and pain of missing is Tio Eddie.

“He would be so mad at how I am treating my dad” Dominik sniffles and Nessa scoffs as does Damian.

“He would be pissed at what Oscar has done to you and Nes. Would have whooped his ass over it actually.” Damian points out, lightly tapping Dominiks foot with his own. “He also would have dragged you back to Nessa by your ear and pulled both of you to a chapel to get married.”

“I don’t know how he would have taken this” Dominik gestures between all of them and Nessa giggles. “A little of oscar, a little of pride and I think he would have accepted us like your mom did” The others making noises of agreement. Bringing up Angie brought another thought to her head that she tables for later, knowing this moment is not the time to bring it up.

“Look, it’s late and we have had a very taxing day and we have to catch a flight super early tomorrow to be in Florida so we can stay at Dems before Raw. So lets go to bed. Things will be better in the morning after we sleep.” Damian suggests, parroting something his mother told him throughout his childhood that rarely failed. No one disagrees, but no one makes a move from where they are sitting, Dominik still sandwiched between Rhea and Nessa, holding the picture of him and Eddie. Finn caressing the box of Legos and Damian looking at the four of them with a mixture of adoration and annoyance, yet again he is going to have to be the adult.

“Get ready for bed, Now” He orders, putting more timbre in his voice which gets the others moving, scattering around the room like cockroaches, grumbling about him Domming them until he clears his throat and they continue in silence not wanting to earn a punishment that night.

[spotofimagines]

No Longer A Secret ~ Isaiah Jesus

A/N: A year later, here’s part 3. I think I’ll make this the last part because it took a lot out of me tbh. I hope you enjoy it!

Requested by: a bunch of you a while ago (sorry for the wait!) [ tagging: @anyasthoughts​ ]

Warnings: pregnancy, family fighting

Summary: Isaiah held up his end of the bargain, now you’ve got to do your part and finally tell your family your secret.

Part 1(Keeping A Secret) - Part 2(Unveiling A Secret)

gif by @pvkyblinders​

More had changed for you in the past few weeks than you thought possible. Being a Shelby meant you were used to drastic change pretty often, but you, along with Finn, were usually the last of your siblings to know what was going on, being kept in the dark for as long as possible.

Being on the other side of the fence this time and having to tell your family this information was filling you with a lot of dread, especially when it came to Arthur. He was volatile with regular news at times, so how bad was he going to be when he heard that the little sister he protects with his life is not only pregnant and engaged but that you stole money so you could hide it from him?

Walking into the Shelby household had never felt so tense. The hallway so small. The dark walls so imposing. Isaiah's gentle touch on your waist made you jump a little bit as you were so trapped in your fear. "You alright, babe?" He uttered in your ear, truthfully knowing the answer would be no but needing some reassurance before you both faced your family. You didn’t answer him, struggling for once to cover how you felt with a lie, but luckily you didn’t need to; with Isaiah, you never really have.

Slowly moving through the house, you shouted out a hello and heard Tommy's voice reply from the kitchen. You were about to make your way to them when the hand you reached out behind you met thin air. Peering over your shoulder in search of the rock you need in Isaiah, he came just in time out of the living room, Finn two steps behind him and tucking an empty tube of tokyo in his inside pocket. You shared a silent greeting through a smile - weak on your side from nervousness and sheepish on his side from being caught - before grabbing Isaiah's hand and carrying on into the kitchen.

The first sight you were graced with was Tommy's frown as he lit a cigarette, nodding his head to you when you entered the room, his frown dissipating when he leant back against the counter and the smoke left his mouth. A stressful morning with business was the last thing you wanted. Everyone’s emotions would be heightened and their tethers near breaking point. The breath in your lungs almost got caught in your throat just at the thought.

But Arthur's voice filled the room before it could. "Y/N, Isaiah, y'alright?" He asked loudly, walking through the room to give an envelope to Tommy, and the cheerful tones told you maybe the stress was on Tommy's shoulders only. You hummed in response, not quite brave enough to open your mouth yet.

Finn nudging past your shoulder by mistake kept you alert to your surroundings as Isaiah went to give a quick greeting to Michael, who sat reading the newspaper with a cup of tea at the table, before pouring some tea for himself. "Watch out would ya," Arthur spoke, shoving Finn playfully to the side, Finn getting out of the way and sitting at the table with a grumble, wiping his nose a bit, "bloody boy." Arthur muttered to himself, his usual temper present but masterfully pushed down, before locking eyes with you still stood in the doorway.

"Y'alright love?" He asked, stopping in his tracks to make sure things were okay. You darted out of your thoughts to look at your brother properly. "Hm? Yeah. Can you stay here a minute though?" You responded, averting your eyes and turning toward everyone else.

Missing the way Arthur shrugged his hands and ventured back to the table, leaning his hands on the back of the last spare chair, you took a breath and steadied yourself.

A quiet rolled over the small room when you picked a slip of paper out of your purse, unfolded it and put it on the table, right under Arthur’s nose for him to read.

A cheque. The first cheque he’s ever seen signed off with your name. A cheque disclosing the exact amount that disappeared from the vault a month ago.

Arthur frowned up at you confused before moving to pick it up himself. “What’s this then?” He asked, looking around at the others for a bit of a clue but finding no help. Tommy rifled through the envelope he’d been given. Michael cast a glance at the cheque then went back to finishing his article. Finn sat scratching his head, keeping himself out of the conversation like he was used to, not that he’d be that much help to Arthur anyway.

When Arthur met your eyes again, you took a deep breath. “The money, from the vault. I’m giving it back.” Arthur’s eyes shot wide, surprised you had been the culprit of the incident (he’d had his eyes on a young blinder he was certain was responsible for a week now).

“You took it? How come?” He frowned again as he asked the question. This one was a little harder to answer. Not only were Arthur’s eyes on you, but Finn was watching you precariously and Michael had let the newspaper in his hand drop on his lap to focus on you too.

You didn’t dare look at Michael, knowing his gaze would stare straight through you and make you crumble under pressure. This money theft had been weighing heavily in the back of Michael’s mind so he wasn’t going to let the answer go without scathe.

“To go to the doctors. I didn’t have my own money to use.” You quickly added, wanting to justify your actions before they could blame you unfairly.

“The doctors?” Arthur repeated, looking over at Tommy again who was still reading through his letter. “What you going the doctor’s for? You’re alright, ain’t you? Nothing wrong?” He spoke, dismissing the reason and not believing you’d have a serious issue without him knowing first.

And that panicked you. Your heart speeding up already. There was something up, something that couldn’t be dismissed, something very well worth seeing the doctor for.

However, a second long glance at Isaiah calmed you down. He stood behind Arthur, porcelain cup of tea in one hand, the other tucked comfortably in his pant pocket. He wasn’t preparing for a fight at all, so why should you? One small subtle nod from him and you knew you’d be fine to speak, regardless of the outcome. He’d be there, Tommy would be there, you wouldn’t find a better chance to say it than now.

“Because I'm pregnant.” The words came out as feebly as you thought they would as you peered down at you feet. Arthur’s eyebrows raised in shock before clearing his throat with a cough that stopped the room from being silent.

“What?” His voice gravelled out of his chest. You looked up to meet his gaze, unnerving and unwavering, daring you to repeat the words he thought he heard the first time.

The movement of Isaiah putting his cup down on the counter had you squaring your shoulders a little. It was a change Tommy didn’t miss when he glanced up after the quiet lack of response, causing him to put the papers in his coat pocket for later.

You repeated yourself, louder this time, more assured despite the clear indifference Arthur's eyes held.

Smoke trailed out of Michael's mouth as he sat up straight in his chair, the cloud dissolving into nothing whilst he folded his newspaper up. Finn didn’t move, quickly inspecting the reactions of Tommy and Arthur before even thinking of speaking up.

Tommy stood still reclined against the counter, cigarette burning between his fingers as he kept his eyes on Arthur and on the door behind you in equal parts, making sure he was prepared for anything that might happen but refraining from acting on it yet.

Arthur’s hand tightened on the back of the wooden chair and his fixed look didn’t let up. He was angry, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on the reason why. Maybe it was because his sweet little sister wasn’t that anymore. Maybe it was because he’d let Isaiah recklessly get his hands on you. Maybe it was because you were young and silly and not ready for this in the slightest. Maybe it was because you hid it from him, and even went as far as stealing, right from the pocket of your family, to stop him from knowing. All of it was hitting him like a dagger in the chest.

His eyes hadn’t left yours before his gruff voice broke the silence again. “Y/N, you better tell me you’re joking now or I swear...” He spoke quietly and your chest shook as you breathed, your lungs tight from nervousness but your shoulders held strong. You weren’t backing down from him, no matter how much your hands trembled.

You shook your head at your brother. “I'm not playing. I'm having a baby, with Isaiah, and I'm keeping it.” Arthur’s eyebrows moved up and down quickly as he sighed out in order to keep his words down. He turned his head toward Tommy, whose face was stoic, not telling Arthur anything at all as he smoked. Arthur’s teeth clenched when he turned back to you, annoyed at the lack of backup from his brother and unsure where to start with his sister.

“You can’t be having a baby, Y/N,” Arthur's voice the only noise in the crowded room. “And why’s that?” You challenged him, his knuckles almost turning white against the chair. Finn's hands fidgeted with the cap on his lap, not wanting to be in the middle of this but not able to escape.

“Really? Well,” he huffed as he stood straight, fingers finally releasing the wooden seat, “you don’t have your own house, you have no cash, you can’t even look after yourself Y/N you’re too young for this!” He listed off the reasons on his hand, voice getting louder with each word that came out.

You put your hands on your hips, frustration mixing with the need to defend yourself as you matched Arthur’s level with your retort. “This is no different to John when he had Martha on her second kid at this age.”

Arthur waved his hand and shook his head. “That’s very different Y/N-"

“How is this different? Why is this any different at al-"

“It just is!” He shouted, slamming a hand on the table between you. You instantly jumped back at the sudden outburst, the boys both flinching too with Michael taking his elbow off the table and Finn scuffing his chair back a bit.

Isaiah stood firmly in his space now and toyed with the cuffs of his jacket to refrain himself from action. Another movement Tommy observed and he internally rolled his eyes at it. Isaiah knew well that this was your time and your situation to control, and that you needed to deal with your brothers in your own way for your own sake. A fight would help nothing right now.

“And before you’re married? Y/N, you aren’t even married for Christ’s sake!”

“You think I'm not married, do you?” You snapped, stopping Arthur from his inching closer and closer over the table top. Tommy’s head shot up in your direction and you could have sworn you found confusion on Arthur’s face before a second later, his and everyone else's attention was drawn away.

Polly opened the double doors from the shop to step through into the kitchen, shutting them behind her. "What in god’s name is going on in here? You're shouting the fucking street down." She chastises through her teeth with a scornful look sent Arthur's way. Neither you nor Arthur dropped your angry stares until Polly's demand of an answer had Arthur stepping away.

"Well," Arthur says, tension in every sound as he walked around the table to Polly's side, "it seems our darling angel girl has gone and got herself up the duff, hasn't she?" He said with bitterness in his words but a thankfully lowered voice as he shot his hand toward you. Polly met your gaze, concerned about the tears that lined your eyes but saying nothing about it yet.

"And that's just so terrible for you, is it?" You spite back, not giving Polly a chance to intervene. You guessed she'd be just as mad as Arthur for you being so silly and reckless, and you needed to fight for this on your own. To Arthur’s point, you had to look after yourself. If not now, when?

However, it isn't the news that's got her concerned, it's the venom in Arthur's words.

"You're not even married Y/N!” He continued his former point, “What are people gonna thin-"

"Well I am getting bloody married aren't I!" You interrupted, throwing your hands up in the anger that's finally caught up with you. Tommy raises his eyebrows questioningly as he keeps watching your movements, a quiet washing over the room again as the boys sat at the table wait for what's coming next.

"I'm engaged," You hold your hand up, your ring glinting in the light, "because Isaiah proposed to me, because he loves me," you drop your hand back to your side in defeat, "more than I can say for some..."

Tommy and Isaiah share a small glance before Isaiah turned to watch you again, leaving that conversation for later, or hopefully never.

After a moment of silent eye contact between you and Arthur, as his chest moved up and down with heavy breaths, he sighed and let his hands drop too.

“You think I don’t love you?” He uttered, “hm?” When he received only silence from you, faced with watching you stare at your feet to avoid him, he almost felt sick.

Everything he does is to protect you, to protect all the people he loves. Even now, as he’s in a blazing shouting match with you, it’s not because he’s angry - no, not truly - but because he’s scared you won’t be okay. Scared that you’re becoming something different to the little girl he practically helped raise. Scared you’ll be going into a world where he can’t protect you anymore.

He can deal with fighting and shouting, but he could never live with himself if you thought he felt anything but love for you.

His breath got caught in his throat and he could sense Polly's eyes burning a hole through his skull. Swallowing his pride, he tentatively asked, “Are you happy?”

“More than ever.” You immediately replied to his sincere-as-possible question.

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, subtly meeting Tommy's eye across the room - who doesn't move an inch - then walked around the table with his arms out wide, inviting you to him.

He hugged you tightly and you felt his shaky hands settle on your back. “Then how mad can I be?” He muttered and a small smile etched onto your face, eyes squeezing closed which made the tears you’d been holding finally roll down your cheeks. All the strength you feigned left you as you hugged him back, thankful for your brother’s arms to be holding you up like normal.

With Arthur’s acceptance and lack of Tommy’s protest, Finn stood to his feet and as Arthur held your face, wiping your tears with a loving but faintly nervous smile, Finn made his way to you to give his own congratulatory hug.

Arthur took a second, watching his younger siblings before scanning the room to get his bearings again. And he went straight to Isaiah, gripping him under his arm and pulling him close, sternly muttering the typical older brother threats in his ear for only him to hear. You missed the words said but by the slightly distant look behind Isaiah’s eyes you quickly got the gist.

Pulling away from your hug with Finn, you met Tommy’s eyes across the room as he still leant unmoved against the counter, extinguishing his cigarette in the ash tray beside him. He sent you a wink and a nod, the corners of his mouth poking up for only you to catch sight of.

“Don’t worry Arthur, of course I will.” The words from your fiancé caused you to turn just in time to see your brother patting Isaiah’s neck before walking away, mumbling about a much-needed drink as he dragged his feet through the shop doors and the usual bustling noise of the building returned.

When Isaiah’s gaze met yours, the sliver of fear in his eyes was completely overshadowed by the confident love he held for you. You sent him a silent apology with your eyes which he dismissed with a shake of his head. He took a few steps toward you and gave you a quick kiss before squeezing you into his familiar tight hug, whispering not to stress about it into your neck. It was enough to stop you falling to pieces right in the middle of the family kitchen.

Isaiah rubbed his hand over your back and pulled his head back up, an inch from giving you a quick peck on the lips when his shoulders shot up with a hiss. He quickly turned his head with an angry scowl that instantly vanished at the sight of Polly. She tilted her head to the side, getting Isaiah to take his hands off you without a word. Isaiah left the two of you to yourselves to avoid the wrath of your aunt and went to join Michael across the room, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked.

Polly smirked at your shocked face and it grew when your surprise turned into a slight shocked laugh, shaking your head bemused at her actions. She held a cup of tea out for you and you took a step closer to her. Part of you was still wary of what she'll have to say about your pregnancy, but part of you was also comforted by her presence, knowing she'll never let your brothers step too far out of line with you.

"Are you mad?" You asked cautiously, never wanting to assume with her. She was pouring another cup of tea as she answered. "I was a little when I first found out, I thought I'd told you more than enough times to be careful," she shot you a nettled look before turning to face you properly, "then I had about two weeks for the idea to grow on me." Once again she smirked at the shock on your face. Of course Polly knew, you hardly had to tell her anything without her figuring it out for herself first.

"You'll be fine dear, he's not the worst." Polly joked sincerely, clinking your cups and taking a gulp before putting it down on the side again. You’d yet to move, stunned into stillness by her revelation, when her hand lay firmly on your small belly. She stared down in thought for a few seconds, her touch a stark contrast to the sharp slap Isaiah felt a moment earlier.

A feeling of relief you'd only ever felt once before - when John shot a bullet that skimmed your leg at 12 years old – had managed to fill your chest, almost enough to overwhelm you were it not for the grounding touch of your Aunt Polly.

You let her process her mystic prediction as you finally moved, sipping your drink and sending a smirk over to Isaiah to match his own.

Polly looked up at you with a smile spreading over her face and joy filling her eyes. “A beautiful baby girl.”

[murderousginger]

Running

Finn Shelby x reader

Warnings: language. They're criminals guys, they do bad things.

Word count: 1,111

This song requested by anon.

"I like fucking everything."

That's what he had told the pretty Chinese girl before she put a gun to his head. He hadn't liked that.

"I'm alright," he had panted. "She fired into the ceiling."

He was anything but alright. The fear and adrenaline coursed through him missed with the coke, making the run to the pub feel like he teleported. His lungs burnt and his head spun and all he could feel was fear burning into anger. His brain was off.

When he got to the pub and his brothers stopped him from blowing off the Chinaman's head, he was lost. Confused. Pent up. Angry.

He had been a runner for his brothers all his life, so he did what he knew. He ran.

He hadn't had a destination in mind when he left the pub, he really hadn't. But you made sense. You had known him his entire life and had grown up with him and his lifestyle. You knew what happened, even if you weren't always happy about it. He trusted you like no other.

Finn burst through your door that afternoon like he normally did, but you realized something was off right away. He was the only other person with a key, so you didn't move from your couch or look up from your needlework when you heard the door unlatch and burst open.

"'lo Finn," you called, amused as always by your friend.

You had a long history of Finn refusing to let you have boundaries 'for your own protection.' If you had a secret, he knew of it. If a man was interested in you, Finn had to vet him. It was endearing as much as it was grating at times, but you also knew that you could easily be a liability for the Blinders and for your own health if you tried to keep secrets. You were a vault of secrets of information about the Shelbys and the Blinders, and Finn was only trying to keep his closest friend safe.

You barely had time to look up and move your project from your lap when a disheveled, sweaty Finn hurled himself at you on the couch. You let out a small yelp before you giggled and put your hand through the top of his hair as his arms wrapped around your midsection and he buried his face into your lap. He was shaking as he wrapped himself tighter around you, breathing in your scent with shaky breaths. You frowned as you began smoothing his hair.

"Finn, what's wrong?" You asked, fear starting to course through you. You had only seen him this scared a few times, and most of them dealt with death. Rather than answer, he buried his head in your skirts farther.

"Finn you're scaring me," you said as you began to tremble in his grasp. You grabbed his chin to lift his face to yours, meeting his bloodshot blue eyes.

"I thought I was dead," he mumbled before his lips crashed into yours, toppling you backward as he crawled over you and peppered you in kisses. "The Chinese sent a whore to put a gun to my head for business with Tom, and she shot the ceiling, and I ran to the pub and shot the ceiling, and I thought I was dead."

His lips found yours again and you kissed like he was trying to lose himself in you. Your mind was mud, thick with information that wouldn't process with your best friend's lips making you feel such heated feelings.

You had always had feelings for your friend, but also knew his life and lifestyle wasn't exactly friendly for real feelings. He had only come to you like this once before when his brother had died. You were both mourning and found comfort in each other that night but when the day broke you had pretended like it was all a fever dream that never happened. You were friends. But now he was kissing you like this again in the middle of the afternoon and muddying your thoughts.

You relished his kiss for a moment, enjoying his urgency and need of you. But guilt set in and you pushed him back a moment as you felt his hands start to clamber up your dress to warm skin.

"Finn," you said slowly in an exhale, trying to calm yourself as you met his wild blue eyes. "Do you actually want to kiss me, or are you trying to forget your head?"

He froze, his wild eyes focusing on you as his hands stopped clambering for your skin. He let out a heavy shaking breath as he reluctantly took his hand off your bare thigh and sat up, giving you space. You immediately regretted your question as you sat up beside him.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly as he ran a hand through his hair. "I shouldn't have pushed myself on you, I should have--"

"No, it's--"

"I was such a fuckin' animal," he berated himself as he started pacing the floor, building up steam again. "To think I could just walk in here and attack you like that--"

"Finn-"

"--it's fuckin' dispicable, no matter what just happened," he continued. "I'm pathetic to think--"

"Finn," you said sternly, making him snap to full attention in front of you. "Sit. Down."

Finn immediately did as you said, letting his brain go on autopilot when a sharp tone was used on him. You knew the reaction was ingrained in him thanks to his brothers, but you hated to use it. You let out a sigh as you took his hand.

"Now," you said as you tried to gather yourself. "Finny, why did you come here? Really?"

"I-" he stuttered, wrapping your hand in his. "I dunno. I didn't think. I just ran and here I was."

"I'm here for you, Finny," you said reassuringly. "I just need to know what you need. You need to talk to me about what's in your head."

"I just--" he started. "I was afraid. I didn't think of where to go. I just showed up here."

"So do you need a friend or a shag?" You said bluntly, irritation creeping in. "I'm not waiting here for when your whores are unreliable. I'm worth more than--"

"You're worth more than all the snow and guns in the world," Finn said as he scooped your face in his hands. "I came here without a thought because I know I'm safe with you, love. I don't need a fuck, I just need you."

"Finn Shelby you should have said it sooner then," you said breathlessly as you tackled him to the couch.

[j4gm]

Obsidian lore thread!

Sharing this thread of lore, episode connections, and Easter eggs from Adventure Time: Distant Lands: Obsidian, originally written for my Twitter.

SPOILERS AHEAD, WATCH OBSIDIAN ON HBO MAX IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY

Keep reading for the full thread!

1) We've seen bombs scattered around the Land of Ooo before, but this is the first time we've seen the word "fission", confirming that they are nukes. Although we have seen the radiation roundel plenty of times so it's pretty obvious.

2) The "magic lightning" that created the Glass Kingdom could itself have been one of the nukes. Alternatively, it could have been the catalyst comet, although Finn has no connection to this place so that's probably not the case.

3) The subtitles for the first four minutes video suggested that Glassboy was saying "crap" here. However, the HBO Max subtitles confirm he is actually saying "crack".

4) All of Marceline's classic furniture is present, but Bubblegum's influence is very visible; a doily on the couch, a flask underneath, new barstools from the Candy Kingdom, and the pink lamp in the bedroom, just to name a few examples.

5) Lady Rainicorn slippers. That is all.

6) Chocoberry on the cover of a magazine. Looks like she's been dipped in white chocolate for this shoot.

7) This is the first time we've seen Choose Goose since he appeared as "Achoos Goose" in the Elements miniseries. Last time we saw his normal form was all the way back in season five's "Blade of Grass", nearly seven years ago. Is it weird that Choose Goose was the first thing in the episode to make me cry?

8) It appears that Princess Bubblegum has not rebuilt the Gumball Guardians since they were destroyed in the battle against GOLB.

9) There are lots of familiar candy people in and around the tavern, from a variety of seasons, including Kenneth, Dirt Beer Guy, Cherry Cream Soda, a Banana Guard 500, Lollipop Girl, and Smudge.

10) Simon is of course singing "Remember You". He is also using the omnichord that was used in that episode. Interestingly, this suggests he might remember some of his experiences as the Ice King.

11) This isn't the first time Dirt Beer Guy's tavern has hosted an open mic night. He also held one in "Son of Rap Bear", and even used the same banner, although it's looking a little tattered and worn out now.

12) Simon doesn't look any older than he did in the finale. This might mean that Betty's wish made him immortal, or it simply might not have been long enough for him to visibly age.

13) This is the oversized shirt given to Marceline by her father in the episode "Marcy & Hunson". It's looking a little faded these days.

14) Bubblegum's outfit is of a similar style to the one in "The Vault", but it's not the same. The fact she's not wearing her amulet might suggest this flashback takes place after "The Vault", but nothing is known for certain.

15) There are gravestones outside Marceline's house, but these actually aren’t new. They previously appeared in “Go With Me”. So don’t worry, these don’t belong to Jake or anything like that.

16) Simon's coping mechanism would be funny if it wasn't so sad. It's going to be a long time before he fully recovers. On a lighter note, the magnets on the fridge say "M PB" which is pretty cute.

17) This is our first time seeing the outside of Elise's van. We previously saw the interior in "Everything Stays". Also, we learned from the credits and subtitles that her name is Elise!

18) Previously, it wasn't known whether or not Elise survived the Mushroom War. Turns out she did... but not for long. It's also now unclear whether the flashback from "Everything Stays" happened before or after the war.

19) A nice little timeline detail: Marceline travelling with her mother for a while explains the awkward two year gap between the Mushroom War and the events of "Simon & Marcy".

20) Here's a comparison of the parts of Marceline's song that got corrupted into the current version. The Glass People got really obsessed with the idea of the song being about coconuts for some reason.

21) PB yelling "Scree!" to summon the Morrow is a callback all the way to the season two episode "Death in Bloom", which is when the Morrow made their debut.

22) Disease is added to the long list of things that helped wipe out humanity. I wonder if this disease is related to the one that Hugo and his crew gave to the grays in the BMO special. I also wonder if Marceline is immune thanks to her demon half.

23) The mutant puppy was able to say the word "wassup". Perhaps this is a halfway stage to the talking animals that now populate the Land of Ooo.

24) Turns out Marceline discovered her demon powers before she defeated the Fool. This is the first appearance of these kinds of soulless husks since "It Came From the Nightosphere" in season two.

25) This is the first new candy power we've seen Princess Bubblegum use since she learned how to create mints and soda in "Jelly Beans Have Power".

26) Marceline not caring about the glass people is very in line with her personality in the early seasons, such as when she was happy to let her father suck souls as long as she got her bass back.

27) No Easter egg here, just an extremely good image.

28) Here's the screenshot leaked by Adam Muto last month. Like the gas station in "Bonnibel Bubblegum", the graffiti here tells an interesting story. Seems like the Land of Ooo had a bit of a Mad Max phase while the humans were still around.

29) This is (as far as I know) only the second time an Adventure Time character has ever been shown bleeding. The first was the heart monster in "The Enchiridion", but that was a lot less realistic.

30) The fact that humans survived long enough to construct a whole Fallout-style bunker confirms that the near-extinction of humanity wasn't a quick process. It makes you wonder whether any other groups made it, besides the Islanders.

31) Apart from this being one of the darkest scenes in the entire show, I like the background detail of bank notes being used as toilet paper.

32) Marceline grew up blaming herself for her mother leaving, and says she is like her dad. It sounds like Elise has told Marceline a bit about Hunson Abadeer, and is scared and angry at him.

33) This actually isn't the first time Marceline's bass has been broken. She also snapped the handle during her fight with the Vampire King. However, it's never been completely shattered like this.

34) This might be a reference to the Hall of Egress. That's the only other time we've heard Bubblegum use that word.

35) Confirmation that Princess Bubblegum doesn't have bones. I guess that counts as lore?

36) The gag of the Banana Guards slipping over each other was also done in "The Thin Yellow Line" and probably some other episodes I'm forgetting.

37) Jake’s granddaughter Bronwyn is certainly an unexpected appearance. I wonder what affiliation she has with the main cast now?

38) And of course... FINN! I would estimate he's aged about five to ten years since the finale, but it's hard to tell with Adventure Time's style. He looks younger than he did in Puhoy's alternate future.

39) Lots of people have been theorising that the tattoo implies that something unfortunate has happened to Jake. Perhaps we'll get to know more about that in Together Again. Let's not dwell on it for now.

40) A canon origin story for the shirt, plus a Bubbline first meeting! This overrides the P.B. & Marcy comic, and re-contextualises a whole bunch of the old Bubbline episodes!

That’s all for now! Let me know if you can think of anything I missed!

[luminouspoes]

For the ♛ prompts: 43 and/or 48, pretty please? 😊

prompt: “you’re lucky you’re cute”

warnings: fluff...lots and lots of fluff. no pronouns used for reader.

read on ao3 | drabble list

“There’s one thing I hate more than the First Order,” Poe murmurs as you both take in the scene before you: golden floors and walls, people dressed in gaudy outfits that you can’t begin to imagine how they got into, and the sound of slot machines running wild. “Places like this.”

You’re keen to agree as you tug self-consciously at your own outfit. It was a deep red suit and was the least flashy thing you could find to wear. It hugs you nicely, but you’d forgone the tie or ascot that was supposed to go with it and keep the top few buttons undone so you can breathe. 

Meanwhile, beside you, Poe looks - well, not to borrow a page from Maz’s book, but he looks dashing. He’d dragged out the tux he’d worn to that party he’d crashed with Finn and Suralinda back while you were on Ryloth with the others. He looks good in it, but it’s also surreal to see him in something so fancy. You’ve known him for years, and seeing him out of a flight suit or his favored tunic and leather jackets is a mind-trip.

It’s not a bad different though, no....not at all -

You snap your gaze away from him, cheeks warm. It was an annoying different though. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but...all we gotta do is find the central terminal here, let me do my thing, and then we’re out.” You whisper back to him; another reason for your choice of outfit was the set of slicing tools you needed to hide. You couldn’t take BB-8 on the mission with you, he stood out too much and was too easily recognizable, but you weren’t one of the Resistance’s best hackers for nothing.

“Right,” Poe mutters, splaying his hand on the small of your back as you move through the crowd, “In and out.”

You try to focus on the fountain of champagne you pass, or the dazzling chandeliers or even the catchy song that the live band is playing, but instead all you can focus on is the warmth seeping in through the fabric of your suit as Poe continues to guide you along, not dropping his hand from your back.

It’s your own fault really. The only identification you and Connix had time to whip up for the mission was that of a married couple, so the closeness was necessary. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to lack personal space - Poe was a generally affectionate guy, and you enjoyed the attention - but there was something different about this. You were both away from the Resistance, looking like neither of you usually did, hiding behind guises that were married.

“Over there,” Poe’s voice is barely above a whisper, breath fanning along the shell of your ear as he leans in to avoid being heard by anyone. You follow his line of sight and see a doorway just behind where the live band is playing. It isn’t guarded, but it’s going to be difficult to get in without being spotted by anyone - which would raise some questions.

Your gaze slides back over to Poe, eyes raking over his suit, and you remember your cover story. Or maybe it wouldn’t. You offer him your hand with a flourish, “Dance with me, love.”

Poe’s brow creases in confusion, so you shoot him a go with it expression, and he slowly takes your hand. You lead him to the dance floor, just in front of the stage the band is standing on, and turn to face him expectantly. When he doesn’t immediately move, you lean in and whisper, “You do know how to dance, right?”

He almost looks affronted, “Yes, I know how to dance, but -” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat as he finally settles his hands on your waist. He won’t meet your eyes, which is problematic for your plan, but you swear you see his cheeks darken. Maybe it’s a trick of the light? “What is it that you’re thinking of because you’ve got that look on your face.”

You lean back in mock offense, “What look?”

His eyes finally meets yours and oh the way they make you melt: there’s so much softness in the way he’s regarding you, a light twinkling in those dark eyes that reminds you of starlight. “Like you’re about to drag me into trouble.”

“I do not drag you into trouble,” you protest as Poe finally relaxes a little and you begin to more than just sway to the music as the band revs up the tune. Within seconds, you’re circling each other, holding on by your fingertips, never breaking your gaze, “If anything, you drag me into trouble. It’s practically your thing. I don’t engage unless I’m provoked, y’know.”

You both step back into each other’s gravity. Poe’s eyelids are lowered as you stare up at him, chin up as you silently challenge him to argue the fact. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he tells you with a laugh. Your jaw goes slack but before you can say anything more, he’s twirling you away from him in time to the music.

When he pulls you back in, you’re not quite ready for it and you stumble into his chest. He catches you gently, one hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder. Maybe it’s because none of this feels real, but you fix him with a smirk, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you and I both know that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.” 

“Are you saying I’m full of it?” You retort, smiling.

Poe shakes his head, looking heavenward. “What’re you thinking?”

You quickly relay your plan to Poe, chewing nervously on your bottom lip while he takes it in. After a long pause, he nods once, “Alright. If you’re sure about this.”

“I am,” you say, and something burns in the starlight in his eyes.

A few minutes later, the two of you are stumbling through the crowd, laughing and unable to keep each other’s hands off each other. His hand slips inside your jacket, pulling you flush as you walk back towards the door you need, and you begin to question if this really was a good idea because you’re finding it really hard to breathe and your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest -

And then you’re out of view of the dance floor and Poe draws back immediately, leaving you feeling bereft. He looks breathless, but motions at the hallway in an ‘after you’ gesture. You nod shakily, heading off in the direction you assume the control terminal will be. Poe’s one step behind you the entire time, looking behind you every few seconds to make sure no one’s followed you.

The control room is at the end of the hall and the door’s locked. You whip out your set of tools from inside your coat and begin to work on fixing that. It’s so easy you don’t have to think about what you’re doing, muscle memory quickly taking over, and you can’t help but think back to what it was like to have Poe that close, to have been flirting easily with him on the dance floor…

The door slides open with a shick but you don’t put your tools away; you’ll need them to retrieve the data the Resistance needs. You step inside and are surprised to find the room empty. “One locked door is all these guys keep on this stuff?” Poe asks, entering behind you. “With all the credits they’re sitting on?”

You’re already set up at one of the terminals, searching for the records you need. “They probably weren’t expecting their records to get broken into, Poe. Most of their efforts would be centered on a vault...got it!” You quickly transfer the data into a chip and show it to Poe with a flourish, grinning widely. “What’d I say? In and out.”

Poe hums in acknowledgment, offering his hand for you to take. “We’re not out of the woods yet, sweetheart. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” 

“Sweetheart?” You question as he leads you out of the room. He throws you a smile over his shoulder and counters with, “‘Love?’”

You start to reply but you crash into Poe’s back before you can, since he stops abruptly and you hear him mutter, “Dammit.” You can barely get a look around him to catch a glimpse at the approaching guard before he’s pushing you the opposite way, past the records room and further down into the twisting hallway.

Which, of course, leads to a dead end.

“Great,” you say, throwing your hands up. “Any other ideas?”

Poe looks around, but there aren’t any rooms around for you to hide inside. Then he goes still and slowly turns on his heel to face you, expression apologetic. “Just one, but you’re not gonna like it.”

You narrow your eyes, “What are you - oh,” you choke out when he very pointedly looks at your lips. You fix your mouth wordlessly a few times, but the growing noise of the guard’s footsteps snaps you out of your trance, “Do it.”

He crosses to you quickly, but as he moves into your space, Poe hesitates a little. Then, he’s cupping your jaw with one hand and the other is on your hip pulling you close, and his mouth meets yours. 

You slide a hand around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. He guides you backward til your back presses against a wall, and he draws your bottom lip into his mouth. You respond by tugging lightly on his curls, which draws out a low hum from him that sends goosebumps along your arms. He squeezes your hip, fingertips meeting bare skin from where your button-up had ridden up from stretching up to meet him, as he aligns your bodies better together -

“Hey! This corridor’s off-limits, find somewhere else to do that.”

You break apart, but Poe doesn’t step back from you as he twists to nod at the guard, “Sorry, man. We’ll just finish this up back on our ship. C’mon, sweetheart.” His voice is rough as he proffers you his hand. You take it, managing to fix the guard with what you hope is an apologetic smile.

As you dart around the corner, you hear the guard mutter something about lovebirds, but you do your best to ignore it, even though all you can focus on is how seconds ago, you were kissing your best friend - and how real it felt.

Without meeting his gaze, you say, “You were wrong, by the way. I did like it.”

[nonasuch]

how I would fix star wars

inevitably, I have been thinking about How I Would Fix Star Wars, and make the parts of TRoS that displeased me into a more coherent story. 

unfortunately, to do so will require the use of a time machine and veto power over the Lucasfilm Story Group. but IF I had those things here is what I would do:

I actually would not make a lot of changes to TFA. The main ones would be:

toning down Starkiller a bit as a threat, to a one-shot-per-planet deal but with a faster recharge time

slightly more stormtrooper stuff -- establish what Finn’s leaving behind and give Phasma a little depth. 

if possible, put some kind of distinguishing visual marker on the trooper who marked Finn’s helmet.

a small background detail that isn't important yet: after the village massacre at the beginning, show stormtroopers collecting the bodies, trooper and villager alike. if possible, do this after every scene with a significant body count, throughout all three movies.

either give the knights of ren some actual stuff to do or cut them out entirely

show kyle chafing at snoke’s leash, maybe demanding to know more about some of snoke’s various Secret Projects, and being dismissed

give rey a little time to settle in with the Resistance before leaving to find Luke. we don't have to show it much, just make it clear that she’s making a home there and has bonded strongly with Leia

clean up some weird pacing and make the travel times/distances between planets more consistent

honestly other than that I wouldn't change much. I genuinely like TFA a lot and its strength is in how well it establishes the new characters.

for TLJ, some bigger changes but the bones of it I'd leave alone:

make it more clear why the tracking through hyperspace is a big deal and make the solution less of a fetch quest

I really like parts of the Canto Bight plot but I would probably swap it out for something with more stormtroopers in it -- let Finn interact with other troopers and remind us that there are individuals under those helmets

(a recurring joke: Finn can always tell troopers apart when they’re in uniform, and Rose can never figure out how. he thinks it’s because he was a trooper, but no, it's because he’s Force sensitive)

maybe get close to convincing some of them to desert, but either they fail last-minute or the deserters get caught and killed

Finn and Rose escape by the skin of their teeth thanks to a trooper who helps them, letting them know that even if they aren't brave enough to leave, there are plenty of troopers who aren't all-in with the First Order

again, after any major fight show the body cleanup. troopers carrying and stacking the dead in neat rows. start hinting that there is something more ominous here than fanatical tidiness

the Snoke stuff -- make it more obvious that Snoke is orchestrating stuff other than just running the First Order. maybe have Hux ask about the cargo ships they're sending to the Unknown Regions, and get shot down

make part of Kyle’s refusal to leave w Rey due to his burning need to Know All The Secrets, and conviction that as Supreme Leader he could really clean up the joint

once Snoke is dead, show Kyle getting access to his secret files/vaults; do NOT show what he finds there

I'd also want to clean up some wonky pacing and timeline/travel distance stuff, probably, but again I really like most of the movie so it’s nothing major

also keep Phasma around for the next movie! what the fuck, she rules, why would you not

okay so that brings us to TRoS, which… would need a pretty major overhaul. 

First of all, we are working under the assumption that I have a time machine, so I made Carrie Fisher go to the cardiologist on the reg starting on day 1 of TFA rehearsals, and she’s fine and able to play the part as she was meant to.

with that in place, here’s how I would restructure:

we keep the Hammer Horror opening scene, but tweak the Emperor’s reveal. he’s much more corpse-y, without the tech umbilical keeping him alive -- a wraith animated by Dark power. 

lots of grandiose claims about his unstoppable army and his impending dominion over the galaxy, ultimate triumph over the Light, etc

don't show the armada yet -- just kyle’s reaction, which is genuine fear.

news of the Emperor’s return isn't a broadcast, but a whisper. a transmission from a terrified First Order cargo pilot, who’s learned the truth about his one-way trip to the Unknown Regions. passed through the lower ranks by rumor and hearsay. eventually leaked to the Resistance by an unknown First Order source

I like the idea from the beginning of the movie, that Rey’s trying to speak to dead Jedi through the Force. but it’s not working, and she shares her frustration with Leia

make it clear that she and Leia have a deep, strong bond.

give Rey a Jedi artifact to hunt for. maybe there’s a place or a thing that she thinks will let her commune with fallen Jedi, and that’s what they go looking for.

that lets us keep some of the fetch quest, but the First Order’s not as actively on their tail. 

they keep crossing paths anyway, and every time there are troopers doing something worse. maybe at one point they see troopers refuse to massacre civilians, and being killed themselves instead.

also they take Rose with them, because this movie needs more Rose

still have those post-battle scenes of body cleanup. now the cleanup crews are being killed once they’re done

this could be a good use for the Knights of Ren, actually. whatever is happening, they're part of it

Leia is more active throughout: she's on the move, recruiting allies for the Resistance, trying to figure out what's happening in the Unknown Regions

she has an actual scene with Lando, and he goes to Rey on her orders

tweak Poe’s backstory with Zorii. he worked with her while undercover for the Resistance, and left them in the lurch when the General needed him back. 

he’d have recruited her, if there had been time, but now he's glad he didn't: most everyone Poe recruited to the Resistance died at Crait.

when Rey crosses paths with Kyle, he’s obviously rattled. he Knows Something that he won't or can't tell her and he's even more fatalistic than usual.

lean harder on the unease/whispers of dissent in the First Order as they're told to do more and more awful things. maybe a scene where someone -- not Hux -- disagrees openly, and Kyle says something that implies that he's getting orders from someone above his head.

this gives Hux a chance to snark at Kyle -- isn't he supposed to be the Supreme Leader, now? who's telling him what to do?

off Kyle’s reaction -- someone is telling him what to do, and he's terrified of them in a way he never was of Snoke.

(keep Hux-as-informant, that was done perfectly)

Rey’s artifact hunt still takes her to the Death Star wreckage, off rumors that Palpatine hoarded Jedi artifacts. 

we meet Janna &co. Finn is so relieved and happy to meet other troopers who survived defecting. Janna tells him that there used to be more, that it used to be easier to get out, but more and more troopers have been killed in the attempt, without escaping.

by now it’s clear: there is Something Wrong With The First Order, beyond the obvious.

Rey fights Kyle in the Death Star ruins. Kyle tells her the Emperor wants to turn her to the Dark Side, that he can’t be refused or stopped, that even death won’t let her escape from him.

the fight plays out similarly, but Leia’s distraction doesn't kill her. 

after Rey heals him, Kyle faces his fear and talks to Leia via Force bond. He tells her what the Emperor is planning, and it’s Ben Solo who leaves the ruins.

he can give Leia files or some other concrete proof via the same trick he uses with Rey in the movie, because that’s honestly very cool and it was used really well, so we’re keeping that

when Rey talks to Luke on Ach-To, he tells her that Palpatine used the Empire to sow chaos and fear, because that made the Dark Side stronger and gave him more power to tap into.

Luke says: “I think he would have been happy to burn the whole galaxy down, as long as he could rule over the ashes.”

Rey realizes she can’t hide from the Emperor, and knows he’ll never turn her to the Dark. she goes after him.

Leia sends the Resistance to back Rey up and sets out to rally the galaxy with Lando and Chewie

finally, it’s confrontation time! Rey faces Zombie Palpatine, and he reveals his plan in all its glory:

he’s built an army of the dead. ghost ships, crewed by all those bodies we've been watching the First Order collect for three movies.

some of them we recognize, if we’re paying attention: the trooper who marked Finn’s helmet, Lor San Tekka, Hux. there are long-dead clone troopers, little more than skeletons in filthy white armor. half-functional Separatist droids. Resistance fighters and First Order officers killed on Crait. countless civilians. 

they’re all dead, all animated by Palaptine’s Dark Side powers, fueled by the strife and chaos he continues to sow throughout the galaxy

he doesn’t want to blow up any more planets. he wants to kill the shit out of absolutely everyone: the end of all life, and all Light. everyone in the galaxy a soldier in his undead army

he wants Rey to strike him down and become the new Sith Empress, ruling over an empire of ashes.

but we are discarding the granddaughter shit, because frankly it is not necessary and makes no sense. 

he can just be like ‘ah yes, a feral desert child, powerful in the Force, with no inconvenient ties to hold her back. I've had good luck with those, mostly.’

now, a brief side trip: what is the First Order doing, in the midst of all this?

well, the rank and file are actually not super down with the ‘join the glorious army of the dead’ plan. half of them are in open revolt; some try to run, some seize control of their ships and decide to fight for the living

Phasma leads Team Living. yeah, I kept her for a reason! Gwendoline Christie is great at this!

Ben shows up as before, fights the Knights, does the cool lightsaber trick with Rey. he fights with Leia’s saber.

when Palpatine drains their life force to restore himself, though, something happens differently:

it’s actually Leia’s life force. she gives up her life for her son and for the daughter of her heart, willingly and gladly, knowing she has rallied the galaxy to their aid. she tells them, before she goes, that help is on the way

the giant fleet that arrives to fight Palpatine has First Order ships in it. finally, everyone is on the same side. Palpatine has been playing both sides against each other since Episode 1, but it won't work anymore, now that they know what he wants. the long con is over. they're united against him.

Rey beats Palpatine the same way, Ben revives her the same way, but Leia’s sacrifice means he has enough juice left to survive it. 

idk about the kiss; I am Reylo-agnostic

but he’s going to try to shepherd the First Order into something that builds and protects, instead of destroying. 

people like Janna and Finn, who got out, and Rose, who lived under their heel, will show him how.

Finn is Force sensitive, and so are some of the other former troopers. 

some of them want to become Jedi

Finn wants to follow Leia’s path: do the training so he understands how to use the Force, but he's not meant to be a Jedi. he's going to be a leader -- not a general, hopefully, but a leader for peacetime.

so like. they won! hooray.

Rey takes the name Skywalker, still. Ben is fine with this: he’s a Solo-Organa. 

there can be a touching Force ghost reconciliation, or not, whatever

so. that is how to fix star wars. you’re welcome. if anyone out there has a time machine and an in with Lucasfilm, hit me up I guess?

[the-and-sign-anon]

Rebel of Mandalore: Part Eleven

Pairing: eventual Poe Dameron x Mandalorian! Reader

Word count: 1,442

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

This trading mission is pretty boring, but it helps you get back in the swing of things. R4 helps you unload and get your goods to the market, then irritatedly stays under the table for most of the day. You manage to get the parts you need for the Resistance and even sell off some of your fixed up pieces. Near the end of the day, as you pack up to return to your ship for the night, a weequay approaches your booth.

“Hey, sorry. I’m done for the day, but I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“You’re a Mandalorian?”

You look up from a box beside you and R4 rumbles beneath the table.

“Who’s asking?”

“Oland wants to know if you’re the Mandalorian the Resistance was looking for a while back.”

You look the guy up and down. He doesn’t seem very threatening. He doesn’t even carry a blaster or a blade.

“Yeah. That’s me.”

“She’d like to see you if you’ve got the time.”

“No problem.”

You vault over the table and R4 follows behind you as the weequay leads you to the center of the city. Another weequay, well-dressed and holding a drink in her hand, is waiting at the front doors. You figure that’s Oland.

“Mandalorian!”

“Most people call me Lori. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Oland.”

She welcomes you with a wide smile and waves you inside.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lori. Hello again, droid.”

R4 beeps back at her and she chuckles.

“Yes, it’s been a while. I’m glad to see you safe and sound. Both of you.”

“I’d like to thank you for your help, Oland. My brother told me what you did for him and the others when they came here.”

“Oh, I was happy to help.”

Oland settles in a comfortable chair when you reach a sort of sitting room and gestures for you to sit in the one across from her.

“I told your friends; I may be a pirate, but I don’t allow slaving or anything of the sort. The boys who took you were punished severely and now serve as a reminder that I’m not a forgiving person.”

“It’s nice to know we have a friend in the pirating business.”

You spend over an hour in conversation with Oland. You find she’s quite easy to talk to and she has a good sense of humor too. Your laughter only dies when she starts reminiscing on her encounter with your friends.

“They were quite an intimidating group.”

“I think we get that a lot. Wookies have a reputation for a reason. And force-sensitives.”

“Oh, I don’t mean the wookie. I’m talking about your droid and that pilot of yours.”

“Poe?”

You aren’t surprised that R4 would be angry and looking for a fight with you gone. But Poe? He was a fighter when necessary, sure; but intimidating?

“Yes; he nearly attacked the whole crew when they came in. The wookie actually had to hold him back. You should count yourself lucky to have a man who loves you that much.”

The words hit you like a brick wall. A man who loves you? Poe doesn’t love you. He’s your best friend, sure, but you don’t have that kind of relationship.

“I suppose I should.”

You know your voice is quieter, but you try to push it aside.

“I’ve seen my fair share of the galaxy, and that pilot showed a sort of angry determination I’ve only seen from a person in love. It’s good for everyone that he got you back.”

You keep talking for a while longer, but your heart isn’t in it. R4 finally beeps to complain of a low battery, so you say your goodbyes and make your way back to the ship.

With R4 plugged in and the ship locked down for the night, you remove your armor. You turn out the lights, settle in your bed. But your mind is still racing. Does Poe love you? And, more importantly at the moment, do you love him?

You think back on every interaction with him, now numbering beyond what you could have guessed after your first conversation. You reflect on his attempts to befriend you. No one made an effort like that with a Mandalorian. With Finn, it had been easy. He just talked with you like you were anyone else. He never worried about saying the wrong thing, so you didn’t either. That’s what made the former stormtrooper such a good brother.

Poe tried so hard to get you to like him. Every conversation was thought out in advance. He tried to learn more about Mandalore and your people so he could be more considerate. He brought you meals. Listened when you talked. Learned your language. Nothing he did ever had an ulterior motive. All he ever did was try to help you and make you happy.

Family was everything to you. And your buir never taught you to believe that falling in love was necessary to have a family. Finn was your brother; Rey was your sister. R4 was your snarky guardian and Max your innocent kid. Strange as it was, the droids were closer to you than nearly anyone. Your siblings and Poe being the only exceptions. Until now, you’d never thought much about romantic love playing a part in your life.

So why did it matter now? Why were your thoughts consumed by every small thing Poe did? The way he held your armor when he helped you paint it. The way he knew exactly which tool you would ask for next when you were working and had it ready immediately. The soft sound of your name coming from him in the dark evenings. The willingness he showed to meditate with you or watch the stars or run through the trees.

Every little thing he did overwhelmed you with love. How had you not seen it before?

And, honestly, now that you were thinking about it, you did a great many little things out of love too.

Each time you would check him for injuries after a mission in case he was lying when he said he was fine. Every meal you wanted to share with him. Telling him your name. Showing him your face. Confiding in him when you could have chosen to turn to someone else. Allowing him to see every part of your life you used to hide.

You fall asleep on this distant desert planet after a life changing revelation. In the morning, you rush to sell off the rest of your goods, buy the last ship part you need. You stop by to give Oland a hurried goodbye and then you’re furiously punching coordinates into the control panel and seconds after clearing Florrum’s atmosphere, you make the jump to hyperspace.

R4 rolls up beside you to watch as you fidget with your hands and tap on the armrest of the pilot’s seat. After a few minutes, he beeps curiously at you.

“I just want to get home, R4. I have something important to tell Poe.”

He beeps again and you snap your head down to look at him.

“Yes, I realized I’m in love with him. How do you know that?”

He whirs and you throw your hands up.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Your job is to help me and I think telling me I’m hopelessly, stupidly in love with my best friend qualifies as helping!”

Now your droid gets defensive.

“It does too count! And leaving me to figure it out myself took way too long. How long have you known?”

R4 knows he’ll need to distract you while you wait out the trip through hyperspace, so he responds as he heads out of the cockpit. As he hoped, you follow.

“Really?! So you just watched me fall more and more in love after that and said nothing to anyone?”

R4 just beeped softly in confirmation.

You sighed frustratedly and dropped down on your bed. Your helmet rested beside you and the comlink you reserved for talking with Poe sat atop the small set of drawers right next to R4.

“I guess I’m stupider than I thought. I’ll have to tell him when I get back. Do you think he knows?”

R4 just gave a tired beep and turned to you. He didn’t even need to say it; you knew exactly how he felt about the likelihood of that.

“Yeah, alright. If he hasn’t figured it out by now, I’ll have to spell it out for him. Why couldn’t my buir have taught me how to do this? Fighting is my strong suit; not confessions.”

Tag list: @gooddaykate-reads @ghostcorazon @nopesies @caelum-the-part-time-acosmist @tillytheslytherin @castiel-barnes @seninjakitey

Next Chapter

[siriuslyshewrote]

Ignored - Shelby Sister

a/n : This is set in 1925. John isn't dead! Reader is seventeen. 

A month - a fucking month. That was how long you had been ignored for, from your brothers, and frankly, it had worn thin at least a couple of days ago at this point. You were the youngest Shelby, and that usually allowed you to get away with a lot of things, in your brothers eyes - you were the baby, and usually, you could do no wrong. Not this time, however.

You were stood silently and anxiously, outside of the door of the kitchen. Your hands twisted and pulled at the fabric of the shawl draped around your shoulders, teeth catching at your bottom lip as you chewed it. Through the door, you could hear the vivacious sounds of a Shelby dinner, chattering and arguing and laughing. It had been so long since all of your family were together in one room, that it almost felt foreign, to you. Only this time, you weren't sat with them, merely hiding outside like a kicked puppy. 

It wasn't that you weren't invited. Your aunt - who most certainly realised that something was up with you - had shouted you from your room a few moments ago, but you knew that the minute that you walked into the room, that it would go silent. 

They were furious at you, and you knew that they had right to be. The cause of the tension between your siblings and yourself was because they had found out that you had taken some money from the vault at the betting shop - well, John had caught you red handed. There really was no explanation for the amount of money you had stolen. You could hardly bat your eyes and say it was for sweets, like you had when you were younger. And, you could hardly tell him the truth, even though he was one of your closest siblings. 

The real reason would surely make them angrier than they already were. Truly, you were unsure how none of them had figured it out yet, figured out that their darling little sister was pregnant. You were lucky, in some ways, that you lived with Tommy, who wouldn't recognise the symptoms of pregnancy unless you quite literally vomited at his feet. Besides, in the cold and vast mansion the two of you, and Charlie, lived in, it was easy to hide away.

Your fingers grazed over your swollen stomach, as you pulled the shawl tighter around yourself, perfectly obscuring it. If you were careful, not even Polly would even be able to tell. 

You thought about the money, the thick wad of notes that had been clutched in your fingers only a week ago, how desperate you had been to have it, which had been promptly ripped away from you and locked away. Now, in only a month, things were vastly different. The wedding band, strung on a chain around your neck, was warm and comforting, especially knowing it was from Bonnie. 

You had been a mess, when you told him, having driven straight from the betting shop to the camp, eyes red and swollen with tears, mewling that you were so sorry. He had reacted completely differently to how you would have thought, your boyfriend of a year. He had smiled, pads of thumbs wiping away your tears, pressing chaste and loving kisses to every space of skin he could reach. With his acceptance and joy, came your love for the tiny little being growing inside of you. 

You let out a sigh, cursing the architecture of Tommy’s house - that you had to walk through the dining room in order to get to the front door. You were convinced it was like that to punish you. Your hand twisted the cool metal of the door, eager to escape the room as quickly as possible, as your eyes flitted over the group gathered, then back to your shaking hands. Of course, the only person who would have been your ally - Ada - hadn't come. 

You hated that you couldn't meet their eyes, as you tilted up your chin, a defiant scowl on your face, as you walked through the room. 

“Sit down, Y/N.” Tommy’s cold voice ran in your ears. You turned your gaze to him. 

“I’m going out, Thomas.” You sniped. 

“No, you aren’t. Sit down.” 

Usually, Tommy’s angry tone would be enough for you to listen to him, but the thought of Bonnie’s warm embrace and murmured words far outweighed the prospect of sitting in silence eating far too posh food for the next few hours. That, and explaining why you suddenly didn't want to drink the red wine you usually had. 

“I’m going out.” You said with finality, almost at the door to get out of this awkward atmosphere.

The reaching of your hand towards the doorknob, and everything shifted. Your shawl slipped off your shoulders, and as you ducked to the floor to quickly retrieve it, cheeks scarlet with shame, you locked eyes with Polly. And you knew that she knew. 

You were like a deer in headlights. Oh god. You couldn't tell them. You couldn't look into the eyes of the men who had raised you, and tell them what a disappointment you were.

“Need any money?” John’s voice was smooth and sarcastic. 

“I’m fine, thanks.” You returned coldly. 

“Course, you prefer to steal it, don’t ya?” 

“John.” Esme’s voice was a warning. 

“Fuck off.” You spat at him. “In fact, fuck all of you! Maybe, just maybe, if you had bothered asking why I needed the money instead of shutting me out like a fucking child, then I would have explained!” 

You sniffed fiercely, cursing the hormones in your body, rubbing at your teary eyes. 

“Why did you need, then? Come on, Y/N, do enlighten all of us.” Tommy’s voice was hard.

Finn was staring determinedly at his green beans as if wishing he was anywhere but here. 

The whites of your knuckles shined through your thin skin, as you clenched them. 

“None of you fucking business.” You spat, pulling open the door with such force that it slammed into the adjacent wall.

“Yeah, you run Y/N, like the fuckin’ coward you are.” John growled.

Your jaw set at his words, as you span around, fire blazing in your eyes. 

“You really want to know, John boy?” You were breathing heavily in anger and regret. “Your darling little sister wanted an abortion, but I couldn't ask for the money because all you lot would do is fucking blind the man!”

You immediately regretted your words, as the whole room erupted, apart from Polly who merely sipped at her wine as if she had been expecting your words all along. 

“You wanted a what?” Arthur bellowed, the glass in his hand shattering. 

“I’m going to kill that fucker that-”

“Was it fucking Bonnie? I’ll kill that-”

“Shut up all of you!” Esme bellowed from across the room, throwing up her arms in the air. “Just listen to the kid!”

There was a rather uneasy silence.You weren't entirely sure who to look at, so you settled for gazing at the carpet. 

“I was scared. I’m sorry for taking the money - trying to.” You mumbled. 

There was a very long pause. 

“So, how did you-” Tommy’s voice was less cold now, which made you feel a slight bit better.

“I, um, didn't need the money, in the end.” You said quietly.

“You didn’t go to one of those backstreet places, did you?” Esme looked worriedly at you. 

“No.” You looked at them, fingers reaching for the swell of your stomach, for comfort. “I - I told Bonnie. He did the right thing. We ,er, got married.”

You sighed as the voices in the room uproared again.

[hankwritten]

Crinoline

Demoman/Soldier, 3k

Request for hyper messed up, Masquerades

“You’ve already managed to get cocktail sauce on your finery. Fantastic.” Spy pressed two fingers against the bridge of his nose, nails making little indents the sequined cloth that had replaced his usual mask. He’d also changed into a different name for the evening, but Jane had aggressively forgotten it; he would always be Spy, and that was that.

“No one’s looking at our frilly blouses, crouton,” Jane said. “It is amazing they aren’t blinded entirely with how much glitter we’re wearing, let alone see past all this glitz-crap to notice a little shrimp juice.”

“You’d be surprised how keenly the eyes in this room are watching.”

This, Jane speculated, was not said to him in particular, but rather Spy talking to himself as his gaze swept over the party. He did that sometimes. Just babbled about like Jane was another piece of fancy furniture.

“Just lie low,” Spy reminded him. “Keep your ears open, see if you can learn something that might be to our advantage. You remember what we’re going here, yes?”

“We are getting the war back on!” Jane brightened instantly.

“No,” Spy hissed, covering Jane’s mouth with a gloved palm, glancing around in case anyone had heard them. “Not tonight, at the very least. We are merely looking for an opportunity that, should the King wish it, we could use to spark something out of the stagnant peace Cerulea has been forced into.”

That all sounded like getting the war back on to Jane. “Cssfr,” he corrected around Spy’s hand. Spy rolled his eyes, and withdrew it. “Ceasefire,” Jane repeated. “Not peace.”

“Yes, yes, whatever satisfies your constant and vocal bloodlust,” Spy waved away. “That doesn’t change our job. Rub some elbows. Blend in.”

“These dinky little masks really going to keep anyone from recognizing us?” Jane self-consciously pushed at his half mask as he said it. “Maybe they’re inviting Ceruleans into their shindig, but that doesn’t make us in particular welcome.”

“You wear a helm on the battlefield. Trust me, as long as you don’t start shouting ‘die Scarlet scum’ in that baritone you oh so love to show off, no one’s going to match a voice to a name. We are anonymous, General. Just as everyone else.”

Jane growled. He didn’t belong here among fancy wines and stinky cheeses—he should be back out on that battlefield, but as long as doddering nobles were clicking their heels at ceasefire, he was stuck here playing spy. The men and women around him talked of peace and stability but, he could smell the venom underneath, rancor in every vein as they patted themselves on the back for plugging a dam with a thumb. Too much bad blood had been spilt, and no grand masquerade would un-spill it.

They were all pampered up with elegant gowns and find doublets that could buy a whole company’s supply of swords, wearing masks that shed their national identities in the spirit of camaraderie. Or hid them, in Jane’s case. His mask was an even balance of red, white, and blue, no clue as to the terror of the man underneath, who’d last summer stood across enemy lines from some of the very people in this room.

“I see you’re giving this your upmost concentration,” Spy deadpanned as Jane scanned the ballroom. “Let us split up then. I have no doubt that will make at least one of us more efficient.”

Jane let him go with a shrug.

At least the food was good. He helped himself to more shrimp, and walked through the chatting masks as their voices turned to noise around them. In the center people danced, swaying in time to the music, an overwhelming concerto that filled the vaulted ceilings despite their size. Despite his contempt…maybe it was a little beautiful. It chased and swelled-

And at its crescendo, Jane caught sight of him.

A man, dressed in black and gold, a long sash tied over one shoulder and stretching down to cover his arm, stood still as the crowd undulated around him—an anchor among swaying kelp. Instead of the standard upper mask to cover the eyes, his instead hid the entire left half of his face, not even a gap in the lacquer for an eyehole. What could be seen was impossibly handsome: dark skin, immaculately kept facial hair that revealed the strength of his jaw, a smile that quirked as he tilted back his drink. As though he knew something no one else in the world did.

Jane was so struck, he couldn’t even glance away when he turned and met his eyes. The mystery man’s grin grew even wider.

A heat in his cheeks, Jane beat a hasty retreat into the throngs, berating himself all the while. What was that about? He couldn’t be getting all flustered at random strangers he met eyes with across a crowded ballroom, not when there was a mission on.

He shook himself, and took a drink off the nearest tray. It was time to eavesdrop, then. The Scarlet King hadn’t show up yet, but Redmond was half-dead anyway, and he had plenty favored families underneath him that might have a key to the kingdom. Or a key to the kingdom’s destruction, preferably. He’d almost managed to make another circuit of the ballroom when someone crashed into his side.

“Ach, sorry there lad,” a rich voice greeted him, steadying Jane’s drink so it didn’t go flying over them both. “Seems we both came at each other a bit fast, eh?”

Jane lifted his head, and his mouth went dry. It was the same stranger from before, now inches away from him, a warm hand around Jane’s wrist.

“You.” Jane had meant it to come out as an accusation, but his tongue wouldn’t behave the way he wanted it to. “Are you following me?”

“Me? Nah,” the man said. “This was probably a coincidence. Hand of fate. Couldn’t be that I saw a good looking man and came over because I thought he might be interesting to talk to.”

“Well jokes on you, buster. I have been told many times that I am a terrible conversational partner!”

“Dunno ‘bout that,” he replied with a twinkle in his single visible eye. “We’ve only been talking for half a minute and I’m already having a much better time than I was before.”

Jane found he couldn’t look away from that smile, that he hadn’t yet pushed the friendly hand away. It took a concentrated effort to avert his gaze. “You’ve got some odd tastes then.”

“Maybe. But I would like to talk with you more…If that’s alright?”

For the first time the easy charm slipped slightly from the man’s face, and Jane couldn’t help but feel bad for being so brusque. Mission, he reminded himself, but…dammit.

“It’s alright,” Jane said, a little too eagerly. “I mean, I would like that. To talk to you more. Even if you mince your words obtuse and confusing ways!”

The stranger chuckled, patient and mild. “Glad my obtusedness isn’t off-putting.”

“Your obtusedness also isn’t a word.”

“Isn’t it? Maybe I’m just mincering it.” He grinned as Jane snorted, and offered, “you want to take a step outside? You look a little warm.”

He was, hot around the collar where this man had made him feel in minutes with just a few flirtatious words. The veranda was sweet relief then, looking over the sprawling gardens, staircases on either side that could take you down into mazelike hedges below. Several couples milled about in the cool night air, but far fewer than inside, and Jane already felt better.

“Place is like a sardine can,” Jane noted as he leaned backwards against the railing.

“Aye, seems like the whole country’s in there.”

It struck Jane that he didn’t know which country he meant, that he might’ve quite possibly been lured out here by a Scarlet. He didn’t want to believe that though; it was better to think this wasn’t his hated enemy, that as long as he didn’t know he could pretend they were both blue at heart. Or, hell, even the neighboring countries of Amberny and Chartruel had sent delegates to mooch off the finger food, why couldn’t it be one of them?

So actively was he blocking out alternatives, he realized it was his turn to speak, and the stranger had been waiting on him for a minute now. “So,” he began, haltingly, “what’s your name?”

“Oh you can’t just ask that at a masquerade, laddie,” the black-masked man teased, leaning next to Jane. “Where’s your sense of mystery?”

Jane grit his teeth, reminded unflattering of Spy. “Fine then. What do I call you?”

“Hm. How about Finn?”

“If that’s what you like, fish boy.”

Finn snorted, and tilted his head back. Jane mirrored him, glancing at the stars that spilled out above the castle’s spires, white lights sparkling next to the golden squares of arrow slits. Their arms brushed, the faintest touch as Finn leaned toward him, and Jane was sure he was going to ask for his name.

Instead he said, “care for a walk?”

Jane glanced at the hedges behind him. “In there?”

“I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.”

“How dare you! My sense of direction is impeccable! I have entered the wilderness between Cerulea and Scarlend twenty-eight times on purpose, just to find my way back out again!”

Jane wound up getting them lost for thirty minutes. It was nice though, the good sort of lost where you’re not really trying to find your way back home, just learning more out about where you are. Finn talked all the while. It was nice to hear him talk, and Jane couldn’t believe how easily he could slide from one topic to another, how suddenly he’d be telling a story about wizards and dragons then jump to economics and Jane would still be hanging on his every word. At some point during their journey, they had started holding hands. Jane wasn’t sure who initiated.

They swung their hands between them, and as Jane gazed sidelong at his newly acquired companion, he thought he’d never known a more perfect human. He didn’t even care if he turned out he was Scarlet, he just wanted to keep listening to this man and never stops.

The music grew louder as they ascended the steps back to the veranda. Finn gazed inside, the sounds of shoes tapping on polished floor almost drowning out the joyous laughter of intoxicated guests.

“…Would you do the honor of dancing with me?” he asked.

Immediately, Jane was yanked rudely to the present. He remembered he didn’t belong here, that nights of passion and softly whispered words wouldn’t take blood and corrosion from his bones.

“I don’t know how,” Jane said, a truth if it had to be.

“Can I show you?”

He didn’t belong here, but Finn looked at him so hopefully, with such adoration in his eyes…

“Alright,” Jane found himself saying.

Finn lead him back the ballroom, the masked side facing Jane so there was only the etched gold to know him by. It felt as though every veiled eye was upon them, watching Jane, knowing he would falter before even taking the first step.

Finn stopped, arms raised, a smile across his cheek as he waited for Jane to join him. He did, falteringly, and the music began.

The steps flowed like water. Finn the stream and Jane the leaf being carried along, left after right after left again. The waltz was as simple as they came, but every few seconds terror set into Jane’s legs, and they threatened to seize up on him. Every time he was sure he would fall. He never did. He was pushed, and pulled, and the rawness in his throat was hard to tell apart from exhalation.

“Why did you come talk to me?” he couldn’t help but ask in between gulps of air. He could hardly breath from the tension, but still he asked. “We barely looked at each other, why me?”

“You were…different,” Finn said as they spun dangerously close to another couple on the floor. “Everyone around here is so stuck up their own arses, and there was just something about you that…”

“Different’s not always a good thing.”

“Mmm. Sometimes you take a chance on different. Might find the most interesting person you’ve ever met.”

Jane had been ‘interesting’ before. It was always said with an air of disdain, the assumption that they meant something else entirely when they said ‘interesting’ behind their gloved hands. But not when Finn said it. From Finn it was an embrace, tight like the hand in the small of his back.

He pressed his face where Finn’s neck met his collarbone.

The dance was the longest moment of Jane’s life, yet over far too quickly. A grand bell chimed the hour.

“Ach, I’ve got to go for a bit,” Finn said, parting gently from Jane’s grasp. “Can I meet you by the fountain?”

“The fountain?”

“Where I first bumped into you.”

Jane’s eyes landed on it, giant golden serpent with water flying from its nostrils into the pool below. By the time he’d looked back, his companion had already wedged himself partway into the crowd.

It felt like he was dreamwalking. Every moment with the lights so bright and the smell of food and perfume clogging his nostrils made him think he’d been put under a spell, and that’s why he was having a hard time making it to the fountain. Maybe he should find Spy. Explain to him that there was magic at work here. Or, if that wasn’t the case, then that he’d fallen head over heels for a warlock in a black and gold mask.

“Where have you been?”

Oh, he’d found Spy after all. Or Spy had found him? How long had he been standing under the fountain, staring dreamily out at the bustling partygoers.

“Met someone,” Jane said.

“Met someone?” Spy groaned. “We are not here meet people unless we are seducing them out of information. Which, judging by that look on your face, you did not.”

“The only look on my face is the final thing my enemies see before I send them to their graves! I do not know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s nothing new,” Spy frowned. He glanced over his shoulder. “And we’re out of time. The night is almost over.”

Jane followed Spy’s gaze to the plinth standing over the ballroom, where it appeared the King was putting in an appearance after all. How he was still alive Jane would never guess, though if he had to hazard one he’d say dark magic of some sort.

But, as Redmond’s creaky voice addressed his subjects—half stiflingly welcoming his guests and half grumbling that they would have been victorious if the war had gone on—Jane found himself drawn to a very different sight on the plinth. Surrounding their ailing King, all waiting for him to crumble to dust so they could personally lay siege to his heirless throne, the noble families of Scarlend gathered. The oldest of money, whose purses kept the red armies armed and dangerous.

The dream shattered like a bucket of water dumped over his head.

“Spy,” Jane tugged his sleeve, never taking his eyes off the plinth. “Who are they?”

Spy idly cocked his head in the direction Jane was gesturing. “The DeGroots, I believe. They have the strongest claim to Redmond’s throne, but whether they’ll have the actual gumption to beat out the Bidwells remains to be seen.”

The King’s favored aristocrats. And there, standing uncomfortably among the clan all wearing similarly designed masks, was Finn.

Or Tavish as Jane gleaned while Spy continued to prattle on, running over exactly he thought each family’s chances were for snagging the crown. He barely noticed as Jane grew colder, lead in his gut weighing him to the floor.

Tavish looked immensely uncomfortable, as though he’d rather be anywhere else besides behind the King as he made his speech. He kept trying to shuffle himself behind his relations despite his height, but a stern looking woman whose mask covered her whole face kept pulling him forward again. When Redmond was finally ushered back to his pallet chair, ending rather suddenly mid-tirade and collapsing into it, Tavish was the first to make his escape.

Jane didn’t hear Spy’s snide comments to do better. He didn’t move as people began to push past him to get to the fountain, or notice that he was alone again. All he could do was stand there as his heart crumpled.

He couldn’t be here under the fountain, he realized suddenly. This was where he and F- he and Tavish had planned to meet up. If they were seen together any more than they already had been…

Even as he thought it, he caught sight of gold flitting through the crowd. He pushed, shoving against the people who’d been bumping him a moment before, desperately trying to make enough space to pass. His feet took him outside, to the gardens, and he breathed in relief as a breeze pulled at the scarf around his neck. Good. The night was almost over. A little longer and he would disappear from the party, never to be seen again.

“There you are!”

Jane froze as the sound of fine shoes walked through the garden’s tended gravel.

“Been looking all over for you,” Tavish said, and then froze when Jane whipped around. The stared at each other for several seconds, neither saying a word, Jane’s mouth a firm line. “…You saw me up there, didn’t you?”

“You’re a DeGroot,” Jane replied. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Ach…bloody hell…” Tavish rubbed the back of his neck. “Look I just…I wanted nobody to know me for once. You don’t know what it’s like being with people like them all the time and I…” He looked up. “And I really liked pretending for a night.”

“Don’t look at me like this doesn’t change everything.”

“Why does it have to?” Tavish took a step toward him. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and I-”

“Because you’re Scarlet, maggot,” Jane hissed, ignoring how Tavish’s declaration still made his stomach flutter. He couldn’t let this man have control of his heart, he couldn’t.

That finally made him get it. “…And I take it you aren’t?” The silence was the only answer he needed. But when it kept going the visible half of Tavish’s face scowled, and he said, “it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. Please tell me this doesn’t have to matter.”

He reached forward to take Jane’s hands.

“You still don’t get it!” Jane said, yanking away. “It does matter, and you know why?”

Jane reached up and ripped off his mask.

Several fearful seconds ticked by, Tavish’s mind visibly ticking away at the new information before his eye widened in shock. He took a step back. “You’re one of the Generals.”

And goddammit it hurt to watch the betrayal climb across Tavish’s face. It hurt, and now Jane knew what he had put Tavish through just a moment ago.

“…We’re both dead if we keep this up,” Jane said. “My side or your side, won’t matter which one catches us.”

“I…” Tavish wouldn’t look at him. He didn’t blame him. If they’d met a month ago, they would have killed each other no questions asked.

“I’m sorry.” The genuine regret leaked out of Jane and into their secluded corner of garden. “For what its worth…you’re the most amazing person I’ve met too.”

A line of silver ran from the corner of Tavish’s eye, catching in the full moon.

Jane couldn’t help it. He reached forward and wiped it away, wishing he could do something to fix this, almost wishing he’d never said anything at all. What did it matter? What did it really matter when he risked his life every day he put on his armor and charged off into battle? It was for a far less worthwhile end than the person in front of him.

The thumb that had brushed aside the tears moved sideways. Tavish tensed, but didn’t stop him when Jane’s nail slipped underneath the mask and drew it away.

There was no eye beneath. Jane had begun to suspect that was the case, but even if he hadn’t there was nothing that could shock him about Tavish’s appearance, nothing that could turn him aside. The hand not holding the mask rose up to warmed skin, wanting to be closer, to feel more of him.

He brought their mouths together. His eyelashes flicked wet where they touched against Tavish’s cheek, and when Tavish pressed down to meet him, he let the kiss turn hungry. Their tongues flit against each other, searching, wanting desperately to know one another.

“…I still don’t care,” Tavish whispered desperately in-between kisses. “I don’t even want what they have planned for me I just…”

“I know.”

And that was the part where Jane should’ve said ‘I know, but’, where he should have reminded Tavish of their respective loyalties. Their duties. But if he was going to abandon every one of his principals, he might as well do it in style.

So when Tavish pressed their foreheads together and said, “take me with you,” Jane stalwartly replied, “okay.”

They found Spy an hour later, one of them ruddy-faced and the other very ruffled.

“Oh good,” Spy sighed. “I suppose this is the someone…who you……..met……..” His voice trailed off as he fully took in the figure at Jane’s side.

“Spy!” Jane declared. “I have found a way to start the war back on!”

“‘Lo,” Tavish waved, still a bit dazed.

“…..”

“Tavish here has agreed to elope with me!” He said, squeezing Tavish around the shoulders. “We are going to run away to Cerulea together, and he’s going to stick it his parents!”

“More like my Mum, but aye.” Tavish looked sideways at Jane with adoration.

“…Yes I suppose that would quite piss them off,” Spy said faintly.

“Great! So we can grab another horse then?”

That snapped Spy back into focus. “Three day’s ride, two if we push the horses…that should keep us ahead of their retinue…”

He began to mumble calculations to himself, and Jane was glad to have him around for once. Schemes were exactly the sort of thing Spy excelled at.

His head jerked up. “It’s a serviceable plan. Dangerous, and not what we were sent here to do, but running off with the crown prince will surely achieve our goal. Hurry! Every minute in the saddle is one less without arrows aimed at our backs.”

“He always like that?” Tavish asked as they were swept out in the flood of guests.

“You get used to it.”

“Suppose I will. I’ll get used to a lot of things.”

The two of them giggled, and Spy rolled his eyes as they hurried into the night.

[hitbythunder]

Chandrilan Moons -3

A Kylo Ren x Reader story with much angst, possessiveness and dark themes (warnings will be updated as the story progresses) –> Read also on AO3

Summary: Growing up under the loving care of your foster-mother, Leia Organa, there had been nothing for you and Rey to want for. Though not of kin, you loved Rey as your sister and spent a happy childhood with her on Chandrila. But when the boiling galactic politics demanded for Leia to take action, for the Resistance to rise and fight, the girls could no longer evade the cruelty of the world. Kylo Ren sought a map as a key to revenge, to freedom, and had no use for a force-unsensitive young girl like you. You were simply a means to an end. Until his darkness latched onto you, drawn in by your light as you were by the demon that is Kylo Ren - inevitably gravitating towards each other, bound to be one. Like the Chandrilan moons.

**** WARNING: description of violence, mentions of rape

____________________________xXx____________________________

3- A disturbance in the Force

+Takodana - neutral territory+

 Flying through space was amazing and although two experienced and trusted Resistance pilots had accompanied us girls on our mission, the glistening stars as far as one could see was worth it all. While Rey remained slightly pouting for most of the flight, I was glued to one of the side-windows of the ship. It was a small but bulky transport ship, for a star-fighter couldn't hold that many people and would have attracted too much attention once we landed on Takodana. Albeit its neutrality in the war, one should never act foolishly, especially since neutrality itself depended heavily on the benefits of a foregone alliance. But with Maz Kanata, the owner of the famous castle that granted sanctuary to everyone for one night, and proved friend of the Resistance, nothing could go wrong today and the whole mission seemed as good as done.

Leia had sent us there to retrieve the Jedi texts Maz had bought from a smuggler who had passed through weeks ago, hoping that they might help Rey's training in the Force. Or so I assumed as I curiously scanned the texts before Rey put the few scrolls and loose pages in a safety-box inside her back-pack.

 "There's one more thing." Maz rummaged in a small chest among the sheer endless heaps of stuff in the castle's vault, leaving me to wonder how she could possibly remain an overview of what was down here. But perhaps that was why it was such a good hiding-place for forbidden artifacts such as Jedi-texts - as well as the light-sabre Maz now held solemnly in her wrinkled hands.

"Oh my stars, Luke Skywalker's light-sabre!" Rey was beyond herself with joy, her hands trembling slightly as she took the legendary weapon and gingerly inspected it from all sides. Ever the technician, Rey simply had to understand how that thing worked exactly and probably would disassemble the sabre if it hadn't been Luke's.

While I shared my sister's excitement, I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as I watched Rey posing with the sabre. As so often, I found myself lacking as compared to my sister and Maz's talk about destiny and great deeds to be done with that sabre didn't make it any better. So I zoned out, sulking quietly in the background, until the three of us left the stuffy vault via seemingly endless stairs. We reemerged back into the dining hall of the castle's ground-floor where the canteen was, without drawing attention of the guests there. In one corner of the hall, a band played jolly tunes, which echoed off the thick castle walls and arched ceiling in a cacophony with the chatter of people. Because of many nooks and columns, the canteen could house many guests without seeming stuffed and a social-introvert like me could feel quite overwhelmed by all the noises, smells and visuals. I had never seen such variety of alien races, humans and droids gathered peacefully in one place.

 With our mission virtually accomplished, the Jedi texts secured, it was time for us to return to the base and thus I scanned the canteen for our two escorts. But fate had other plans, for suddenly three very familiar faces appeared at the entrance of the dingy dining hall.

"Han Solo!" Maz cried out, shifting everyone's attention to the smuggler and his companions Chewie, a startled guy in Poe's jacket and Poe himself, his loyal droid BB-8 at his heels.

 What in the galaxy are they doing here? I wondered while they approached us, an uneasy tingling overcoming my nerves. In hindsight, to give in and investigate this strange feeling more closely would have spared me so much trouble. But instead I pushed it down and greeted the guys as friendly as ever and soon later we found ourselves seated at the last available table. After getting us some food and beverages, Maz joined us at the round table, listening intently to the quiet conversation. We informed Han about our mission before he could get any wrong ideas (e.g. that we stole a ship and went against Leia's orders) and it felt nice that he cared about our well-being.

 "Kriff, that is amazing!" Rey nearly burst with excitement as Poe, with interruptions of Han and Fin (the new guy), told us about what had happened on his mission. To sum it up, Poe had been on Jakku to get a map leading to Luke Skywalker but had been caught by the First Order and tortured by Kylo Ren himself. I shuddered at that part, because everybody knew not to cross paths with this merciless demon. Ren's cruelty and thirst for blood-shed seemed endless, his hatred for the Resistance only fueling his powers, and I could not fathom to imagine what Ren had done to squeeze every ounce of information out of Poe.

Luckily, Poe had entrusted the map to BB-8, who had remained hidden on Jakku the whole time, until Poe had managed to escape by the help of Fin, a renegade stormtrooper. Well, and as if fate had decided to stir things up even more, they had bumped into Han and Chewie on the way - something concerning smugglers and gross aliens, I didn't listen too carefully then - and due to low fuel and necessary repairs they had to make a stop here on Takodana.

"Wow, what a ride..." I said with awe and respect for their courage and luck, which had at least Fin and Poe smile proudly.

"Yeah, didn't exactly go to plan-" Poe replied between sips of his beer, Han scoffing beside him and mumbling something to Chewie about the recklessness of youth. "-but here we are, map in hand."

 "And as soon as the Falcon's refueled we're leavin'!" Han declared as soon as Poe finished, his tone harsh but one could tell he only meant well for all of us. "Gonna make sure y'all get back in one piece." Obviously, Leia would have Han's head should anything happen to her girls, her best pilot and the map under his watch. And although I sensed his reluctance to face Leia, I was looking forward to the resemblance of a family. Hopefully they wouldn't quarrel from the start on.

 Somewhat lost in my fantasies of a happy family life, I hadn't registered the growing debate between Finn, Rey and Poe.

"... you don't know them as I do! There's no fighting the First Order because they'll slaughter us for even trying. I've seen enough of their horrors and I want nothing to do with them!" Finn declared heatedly and barely kept his voice low as Poe repeatedly urged him to, also keeping the renegade in his chair.

"But that's the point! You have so much detailed insider-information which we could use to fight them! Why would you waste that and cling to the illusion of outrunning them?" Rey retorted with unabashedly directness and not less heatedly, the spirit of the Resistance burning fiercely in her hazel eyes. "Fleeing like a coward."

Finn rose then, anger and shame written across his face, though he didn't come up with a response and after a few seconds gave in to Poe tucking at his sleeve, sat back down and glared into his cup. A tensed silence hung over the table, until Maz subtly changed the subject by engaging Han in a conversation about a mutual smuggler-friend of theirs. With a fuming Rey beside me, I shot Poe a questioning glance, but he looked as helpless beside Finn as I felt and began to talk some sense into Finn in a calm manner. That he should come with us to the base, at least for a little while.

 Next to Han, Chewie was eager to get out of here, groaning impatiently beside his friend and rubbing his bandaged arm.

"All right, Chewie, go on and check on our baby." Han said between Maz's babbling and quickly grabbed his beer before Chewie would knock it over as the giant jumped to his feet.

"I'm coming with you." on impulse I rose too, dismissing everyone's questioning looks as I added: "I need some air anyways."

 Let them cool their heads while I'm gone, I thought and jogged after Chewie.

   Since Maz's castle was built on a cliff surrounded by the ocean on one side and dense forest on the other, the landing-places were spread to a few clearings nearby. So we had to walk a little and although Chewie wasn't particularly chatty, I didn't mind either and enjoyed the beautiful landscape. At the bottom of the weathered castle's stairs, we turned right and followed a lovely path between lush grassy hills at the border of the forest, the rush of the nearby sea accompanying our steps. Suddenly Chewie halted, his hairy arm on my shoulder stopping me too, and pointed towards the thicket. There, half-hidden by the greenery, two humans were carrying a seemingly shut-down BB-8 further away from the castle.

 Hasn't BB-8 been with Poe and us the whole time? I wondered briefly. But then, BB-8 was a small droid and many people had squeezed themselves past our table in the brimming canteen. Perhaps we had all been too distracted by the heated conversation between Rey and Finn to notice BB-8's absence.

"I'll follow them and stop them from leaving. You go use that long legs of yours and get the others, Chewie! Rey'll find me through the Force!" I declared in a split-second-decision, already dashing away into the dense forest and leaving a groaning wookiee behind.

  Deeper and deeper I ventured in my pursuit, steadily closing the distance between myself and the thieves without alerting them of my presence. As children, Rey and I had often played hide and seek in the forests of Chandrila and I had to develop some pretty decent sneaking-skills to diminish her advantage with the Force. Rey had only once admitted that she wouldn't have won all those times if she hadn't used the Force to sense my approach. Thus, even if my sneaking skills should fail me I trusted that Rey would be able to find me. I just had to stall some time, delay those thugs from leaving, until Rey and the others would arrive. At one point, the two thieves halted to catch their breaths and looked around. I quickly ducked behind a tree, easing my nerves. Suddenly I noticed a bright red stroke on the otherwise blue sky above, far away yet ominous to watch. Though I had no clue what it was, I instantly had a bad feeling about it. But more pressing matters were at hand, and after another deep breath I dared to peek around the trunk. There was only one thief beside BB-8 then.

 Kriff, where did the other go?!

  Maybe Chewie should have chased them, not me, I admitted to myself as I was hauled by a pair of large hands and thrown very harshly on the forest floor next to the motionless droid.

"Look what followed us, mate!" said the gruff guy to his companion, who looked terribly scrawny in comparison. Both reeked of ale and whatnot, their ugly visages distorted by sinister smiles.

"A pretty thing like that will make a good price, I wager. Not as high as for the droid though." the scrawny one snickered as he mustered me, while the bear-like guy's eyes roamed over my body with a different kind of greed.

"How 'bout a taste..."

 "No!" I screamed as he grabbed me, trashing against his hold, and somehow I managed to draw my small combat-knife from its holster at my hips. I thrust without much consideration, nor proper aim, stabbing bear-guy right above the knee. The blade sunk hilt-deep into his thigh-muscle. He howled in pain and repaid me with a hearty slap across my face, sending me flying back against BB-8 and onto the mossy ground. The impact caused the droid to reawaken and a small safety compartment at its front jumped open, the object within landing a few feet ahead of me.

 The map! my dizzy mind concluded with horror.

 Ignoring the rising pain in my body, I crept on all fours and frantically scanned the forest floor with my hands in a panicked search for the map. Scrawny guy was still laughing at his companion. Knowing that the guys and Poe in particular, had risked their lives for this map and that finding Luke was vital for the future of the Resistance, I simply couldn't loose it nor let it be taken by those thugs. It was my chance to prove my value as part of the Resistance and failing wasn't an option.

 What would Leia think if I screw this up? Or Poe?

 Then, finally, my right palm touched a metallic longish object and instantly I closed my fingers tightly around it. The very moment I did so, a flash of energy shot through me, momentarily blinding all my senses in its immense light and suddenly the outline of a star-constellation appeared before my inner eye. Planets and stars twinkled in a blueish hue, in between a red dotted line that led to a particular oceanic planet. Though somehow familiar, I could not place this constellation and this strange vision lasted only a few seconds, before a sudden sharp pain in my hand brought me back to my present predicament.

  +++

  In front of Takodana castle, the fight between stormtroopers and Resistance had just begun by the time Kylo arrived there. His ship landed like a looming black bird among the First Order transports and agitation spread in his muscles upon the pending blood-shed, especially since he had sensed another force-user inside the castle. By far not as strong as him, but hopefully they would do for some entertainment compared to the other scum-bags that died like flies at his hand. Kylo was marching determinedly towards the building, when he felt it.

A disturbance in the Force within the forest to his right, faintly but clear as a lightning-bolt at distance and vanished just as quickly. Kylo paused, scanned the area with his powers and concluded that the other Force-user was up ahead at the bottom of the castle - not in the direction of the disturbance. Weighing his options, Kylo dismissed the distraction for being just that and walked on to find his opponent. The Force, however, tickled his senses again, rippling with distinct restlessly as if to tempt him and now it seemed foolish not to inquire further.

 "Find that droid at all costs! And take no prisoners!" Kylo barked towards a nearby officer, before he stormed off into the forest.

 The lightning-bolt had pinned down the exact location and the closer he got, the stronger the Force seemed to pull him there, becoming more insistent with each step. Faster, it seemed to whisper and spurned his steps beyond the capacity of men, neither rocks nor tree-stumps posing a real obstacle in his path. Kylo felt some human presence long before they came into view, two men beating and kicking a woman cowering at their feet. Judging by their appearance, they were either smugglers or Resistance-fighters and either was good enough reason to kill them.

Silent in his approach, Kylo descended upon them like a dark shadow from behind, the hiss of igniting his light-sabre the only foretelling sound of their demise. Effortlessly, the red crackling blade cut through cloth, flesh and bone, drenching the nearby greenery and earth with blood.

[spotofimagines]

Keeping A Secret ~ Isaiah Jesus

A/N: Reader is a Shelby sister so a good chunk of this is about that. This gif is perfect for what I was picturing in my head when writing, that’s why it isn’t a gif of Isaiah in case people got confused. Enjoy! :)

Requested by: no one

Warnings: pregnancy, smoking

Summary: You are pregnant with your boyfriend Isaiah’s child and the last thing you want is your family to find out, but some are faster to realise than others.

Part 2(Unveiling A Secret) - Part 3(No Longer A Secret)

When you found out you were pregnant you were beyond happy. Happy because your relationship with Isaiah had reached such a high level of beauty. But god were you scared as well. Scared about having a baby so young. Scared about not being married. Scared about the things people would do to Isaiah since they had such strong opinions about your relationship already. But most of all, you were scared - no terrified - about what your brothers would do when they found out their little sister was one of those stupid girls that got knocked up out of wedlock.

You didn’t let them know, couldn’t let them know. That’s why you hadn’t much choice but to get the money you needed to go to the hospital from the vault. There was one strict instruction when it came the vault: you don’t take money out unless Tommy approved the reason. You knew the repercussions of doing this would be big but them knowing you were pregnant would be much worse so you took the risk, waiting for the perfect chance to take the amount you needed for your session the next day.

Unlucky for you, Tommy was the last one to check the amount he had that night and also the first to go in there in the morning after. As soon as he stepped through the heavy door he noticed the few messily-placed wads on the shelf to his left and realised some had been taken.

Tommy was absolutely furious. The rules concerning Shelby Company money were very clear and he knew it was the doings of someone who had keys to the shop as he wasn’t the last one out that locked up during the night. He had called a family meeting with Shelbys and Grays only, going mad at everyone sat around the table, explaining the rules in a bellowing voice yet again in disbelief that someone sat in front of him would do such a thing.

He took a deep breath and pointed his cigarette at each person in turn, calmly stating with long pauses in a quiet voice, "Whoever stole from family savings without reason is gonna get their head cut, so I hope you chose wisely." He flicked his cigarette onto the table in the middle of the kitchen and stormed out of the house. You were left trembling on the inside at your brother’s fury at the small act of missing money, knowing that at some point he would find out your secret and be ten times angrier.

---

A week later, everyone was gathered at the Garrison, talking and drinking after quite the hectic week they’d shared. Whilst sat opposite you in the Blinders’ private room, Tommy had noticed you weren't drinking your usual cocktail and when he asked you why, you blamed it on having a busy workload the next day. He accepted it as an answer, being too tired to investigate the real reason, but he didn't buy it for a second.

Then Isaiah came through the door behind Finn. He put his drink on the table and sat next to you, kissing your cheek and keeping his arm on the bench behind you as he asked you how you were feeling. You nodded and muttered "I'm alright, could be better." He smiled at you and replied, "No, you couldn’t be more perfect." before looking down at your stomach for a second so only you knew where he was looking.

His grin got bigger and goofier when he met your eyes again. He kissed your lips, pouring all of his love into you before smothering your face then your neck in cheeky little pecks. His arm fell from the back of the bench and snaked its way around your waist as your hand moved to hold his cheek. The feeling of his mouth on the soft spot under your ear made you giggle quietly and Isaiah’s heart bounced at the sound.

Tommy smiled to himself from across the table at the interaction as his little sister reminded him of his own Grace, forgetting about your excuses for no alcohol and letting the somewhat peaceful environment force himself to relax.

---

You hadn't turned up for work on time.

Being just under 2 months pregnant now the morning sickness was starting up. You'd told Isaiah to let Tommy know you'd be in your office after lunch, deciding to have a slow morning after spending an hour wretching up your guts with Isaiah rubbing your back before he had to leave.

When Isaiah walked in to the betting shop on his own, Tommy took a double take at his unusual sole appearance. Isaiah answered Tommy's questions, telling him you were sick but kept the reason why to himself, knowing you wanted it to remain a secret from them for a little while longer.

Tommy sighed a little frustrated but nodded his head, getting Isaiah caught up and started on his work. Isaiah’s yawn and the weary look on his face hit Tommy in such a way that he wished he would have missed it. He’d seen that behaviour in a few of the men in the shop in the past, hell he’d even experienced it himself.

That’s why he wished he hadn’t seen it because, like magic, all the parts started to align. You avoiding alcohol, spending most of your nights at Isaiah’s house, suddenly being rather tired and slow with work, you both leaving the Garrison early a few times, maybe even the culprit of the missing money from a couple weeks ago. The realisation that his precious little sister might be pregnant had dawned on him and it was scaring him half to death.

---

When you walked into the shop at noon it was fairly empty, most of the people having gone out for food or drinks. You were relieved as it gave your head a break from the loud noises of Birmingham for a minute as you slowly made your way to your office, your sniffling alerting Tommy you had arrived.

The break to your headache was short lived as you opened your office door to the back of Tommy's head sat at the chair in front of your desk. You closed the door behind you and leant back against it, your hand resting on the handle as you were frozen to the spot watching Tommy take a drag of his cigarette.

"Sit down y/n." Tommy said with no expression, waving his hand toward your chair across from him without turning to face you. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what seemed to a serious conversation as you made your way to your seat.

Your mind was in overdrive thinking about all the things he could want to talk about; the money you took, coming in late, maybe he knew about your pregnancy. No, he couldn't. The only person that knew was Isaiah and you had full trust in him that he would let you tell your brothers in your own time. He was a pretty good secret keeper too so you doubted he would let it just slip out.

The silence was deafening as you dumped your purse on the desk and sat down, wiping your nose again and lighting a cigarette of your own, taking a drag as you tried to avoid making contact with Tommy's stare.

It took a minute before Tommy stamped his cigarette into the ash tray and slid a small glass of whiskey toward you with a gentle tap. "Why weren't you in this morning?" He asked, leaning back and folding his hands across his lap as he watched you move the glass to the side. "I was sick. I am sick. I don't know where its come from but, its here."

"Y/n," Tommy sighed after your little drabble of excuses. "Why weren’t you in this morning?" He repeated, his serious tone making your heart beat faster as your mind racked over ways to hide the truth. "I told you," you said taking a drag, "I'm sick. I have snot in my nose, a pain in my head and vomit in my stomach. What more do you want?" Your tired red eyes met his for the first time, your physical state making Tommy ease up a bit as he knew, even if he didn’t like the reason why, you weren’t feeling good enough to take him shouting at you.

He raised his eyebrows at you in expectation, waiting for you to give in and tell him if his suspicions were correct, but you just looked away, staring out the window and smoking some more.

"Y/n I'm not angry, and I'm not going to raise my voice, but I'm tired. I know you are too." You nodded your head, your eyes closing as your head leant back against the top of your chair. "I'm tired of trying to figure things out, trying to find whose responsible for things, and tired of prying for answers. So just this once can you please make my life easy and tell me the truth." Your eyes were fixated on the chandelier in the middle of the ceiling while you absorbed Tommy's slow but stern words, quickly trying to decide if telling him the truth was the best thing to do.

Tommy opened his mouth, and you expected him to ask you the same question for a third time, but what he asked threw you off. "Have you talked to Polly about it?" Your eyes snapped to his before you relaxed and played off your nervousness. "About what?" You asked hoping your confused expression would trick him. But he knew you better than you knew yourself. He could see the fear in your body. "You know what." His quiet voice made your heart jump as the look in his eyes told you he knew what was going on.

"You refused a whiskey, you've been throwing up all morning and, correct me if I’m wrong, that money went missing for your benefit." He stayed monotone, making sure you didn’t lash out at him. All he wanted was answers and, by your lack of protest and drag of cigarette, he knew you had stopped lying to him.

"I don't need to know the details Y/N," He said leaning forward on the desk and lowering his voice, "but I suggest you talk to Polly about it. Yes?" You timidly met his eyes, drained of effort and energy, then nodded a little.

He smiled at you softly and stood up as you rubbed your sore head. "And you should stop smoking those, they're supposed to be bad for the baby." You paused for a second before taking one last long drag and squishing it down in the ashtray next to you.

Tommy was making his way out of your office as you tried to rub the pain out of your eyes from the stress. "Don't tell Arthur." You mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear. But he did, stopped in his tracks and turned to face you with a raised eyebrow. You stayed with your hands against your forehead to keep it from falling down to the desk.

"Please don’t tell Arthur." You repeated a little louder, Tommy's heart breaking at the sound of your exasperation. "I don’t want him cutting Isaiah's head off." Tommy chuckled lowly, assuring you he wouldn’t tell a soul before quietly slipping out the room and leaving you in a quiet space.

Your secret was finally out to the person you were most scared to tell. And yet you still had to come up with a way to tell Polly about it without her throwing you and Isaiah into the fire by the scruffs of your necks.

[chocoholicannanymous]

Free Kurt - Isabelle style (Glee)

This is part of the Free Kurt event, where different fic writers all present a take on how the proposal from 501 could have ended better for Kurt by use of one character. I decides on Isabelle Wright, and here you have 2020 (fittingly) words of “Free Kurt - Isabelle style”.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except an overactive imagination and way too many plotbunnies.

“Getting a choice means you gotta make one. Relax. Hear what the guy has to say. All you gotta do is say yes, no or maybe.”

“Is there another option?”

~*~*~*~

Kurt turns towards Dalton, steeling himself to go inside and meet Blaine. To start a new phase of his life - their lives. And then his phone rings.

“That can wait, can’t it, buddy?”

“I just need to check, oh, I have to take this. I’m sure it won’t take long. Just…” He walks a bit, not wanting his dad to hear if this is one of those calls.

“Isabelle! Is there something wrong?”

“No, no! Well, a little, but! You're just the guy to fix that. I remember right that you were flying back today, right? Would you be amenable to show up at Vogue, paid time, and help out at a party? Chase was supposed to be there and write about the outfits, but Marcel is in the hospital so Chase has to cover for him.”

“I...don't know if I'll be able to make it in time.”

“Traffic? I'll send a car for you, obviously, and pick an outfit from the vault.”

“I'm sorry, I mean I'm not sure if I'm going to make my flight.”

And he isn't. It hasn't hit him until now – how? why? – that even though he left with plenty of time to get to the airport and through security it might not be enough to also get through the proposal. He'd thought so, before, but really when he actually thinks about it? That would depend on Blaine being brief. Oh, and letting Kurt leave after. Is he going to want me to do that? Or is he expecting us to do something together?

Surely Blaine must have planned for Kurt making his flight though? Or made other arrangements? I'm already checked in though, I did that yesterday. So clearly no one's changed my flight.

“Kurt? Is something wrong? Are you... Are you not at the airport? Did something happen with your dad?”

Isabelle's voice is rising, worried, and he takes a second to feel cherished by that while hurrying to calm her down.

“Oh no, he's fine. Just, I'm not at the airport. There was a detour. I... I'm at a surprise proposal.”

“Really? Whose?”

Blaine's. “Mine.”

“Wait, what? Didn't you go down alone? Oh, did blond and cute go with you after all?”

“No, Adam is... We're over.”

“You broke up? You left here 10 days ago, dating Adam , and now you’re telling me that not only did you break up with him in that time, but also you started dating someone new? And you’re being proposed to? Am I hearing this right?

“What happened, Kurt?”

“I couldn’t commit to Adam. He offered to come with me, you know that, but I turned him down. That was pretty telling, that I didn’t want him to come with me. If it’d been serious, if I’d been willing to commit to him, well… I wouldn’t have said no then, would I? If I didn’t want him here with me during this, if I didn’t want him to come with and meet my family and friends, then clearly I wasn’t that invested.

“Better to break it off then.”

It had hurt, sure, because he’d really enjoyed being with Adam, but once it’d been pointed out to him…

“Okay, say I buy that - and we’re talking more about that when you come back, mister, don’t you doubt it! - what about this new relationship? How can you be ready to commit to someone else this soon?”

“I never had a problem committing to Blaine.”

There’s silence at the other end, enough that Kurt starts questioning if the call’s been disconnected.

“Isabelle?”

“You…” Her voice does a funny thing, and she starts over again. “You’re back with him?”

When he confirms it Isabelle starts talking fast, clearly not willing to let him say anything else.

“Blaine. Cheated on you after 2 weeks, Blaine. Blamed you for it, Blaine. Almost got you in trouble at work, Blaine. Made you feel like shit for months, Blaine. You’re back with him. And he’s proposing? You got back together, what, five minutes ago?”

Yesterday, Kurt thinks. We got back together yesterday. He doesn’t say that though.

“We were together for a year and a half. It’s not like he’s some stranger. This is, I always saw us ending up here. This was my dream, Isabelle, for so long.”

“”Before, and I cannot stress this enough, he cheated on you. How can you be sure he won’t do that again? After all, you’re coming back to New York. He’s going to be in Lima, still in school. That didn’t work so well last time.

“As you said, you didn’t have a problem committing to him. He on the other hand...”

It stings, to hear Isabelle reference such a painful experience so casually. Kurt swallows it down though, arguing back. “It’ll be different this time. He promised he’d never hurt me like that again. And he signed Oprah’s non-cheating contract.”

Except he hadn’t, not yet, but he’d promised to do it and surely that has to mean something?

“The fact that a non-cheating contract even entered the picture isn’t exactly the strong argument you seem to think. At least not in his favor.

“Kurt, honey, I'm saying this from a place of love. Have you completely lost your mind?”

And that, that hurts. He’s not crazy. This is the right thing to do. Everyone else thinks so, so why can’t Isabelle see it?

“Now, I’m not going to tell you that you can’t date someone, or get engaged, or hell, even married - though I do hope he doesn’t have an officiant standing by - but what’s the hurry? Why does he have to propose now?”

And well, Kurt doesn’t have an answer to that - and he’s searched, having asked himself the same question.

“He’s just, he’s always been excitable. Besides, seize the moment, you know? You never know what happens.”

He can’t be sure, but it sounds like Isabelle is muttering something about finding him a therapist. Surely not though?

“And I, Isabelle, it took me forever to find Blaine. What if I never meet anyone else who makes me feel the way he does?” Kurt politely ignores the hrumpf on the other end.

“Honey, you’re young. So, so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. And if it doesn’t happen? I am more than twice your age.” And wow, things has to be really serious if Isabelle is admitting to that. “I’m single. I’ve never been married, or engaged. I don’t have kids. By now, I’m pretty sure neither of that will change.

“Does that make me - or my life - worth any less?”

“No! Of course it doesn't. Just... It’s not what I want for me,” Kurt adds in a low voice.

“And that’s okay. As I said, you’re young. You have time to get to where you want to be. It doesn’t have to be a race. Not everyone find their place - or their person - at 20. That you would walk through life and never meet anyone else who could love you, and appreciate you? That’s impossible.”

Kurt feels the word sink into him, and before he can think twice he whispers “dad said I looked like he was driving me to my execution”.

“Wait, what? Look, I know that as your boss I don’t have the right to tell you what to do with your private life, but I’d like to think that I’m a little more than just your employer. So please, listen. Don’t be in such a hurry to do this. Not after just a few days. Not if you’re unsure enough that you look like that. Please. Come back to New York. Take some time to think. To just date again and adjust to how you’ve changed. Because that’s going to change how you are together as well.

“Put yourself first.”

Put himself first? Kurt isn’t even sure how to do that. It means disappointing his dad. Disappointing Blaine. He...doesn’t have a great track record with that.

But that’s his answer right there, isn’t it? He isn’t thinking that what’s right for him is to walk inside and let Blaine propose. He’s thinking about walking away.

“I’ll call you when I’m back in New York, okay? Bye Isabelle. And...thanks for listening.”

He walks back to the car and his dad, who’s looking kind of worried.

“That took a bit longer than I thought. Everything okay?”

“Yes, I think it is.” In the corner of his eye Kurt spots people spying from Dalton’s balcony and the door, looking restless. Apparently he’s not following the script.

“So, ehm, can you just drive me to the airport like we agreed?”

Burt Hummel looks like a stranded fish, and under other circumstances Kurt is sure he'd find it amusing. Now, not so much.

“What? What about-”

“I decided that I did have another option, one that doesn’t mean listening to Blaine. I’m not ready to say yes to what he wants to ask me, and I want to leave.”

“What about Blaine? Are you really going to leave him hanging like this?”

And ouch, that might be justified, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to hear it from his dad. Isn’t my dad supposed to back me? Where was this attitude when it was Finn? And right, he’d forgotten for a bit, the memories swept away in his dad’s pushy encouragment. Burt had hated Finn’s engagement to Rachel, not to mention the wedding-that-wasn’t.

“Good to know whose side you're on.”

They stare at each other. Kurt has folded so many times in similar situations, but this time he’s going to stand by his decision.

“I gotta say, buddy, this isn't like you.”

“Well, maybe my usual habit of doing not what I want but what I think the people around me want isn't working for me any longer.”

Which is true, and how could I have let myself almost be backed in a corner like that? but his dad takes it badly.

“This is… This is because of whoever called you right now, isn’t it? Why are you allowing her to change your mind like this? Not five minutes ago you were going to at least hear Blaine out. Who's this Isabelle to tell you not to?”

“Apparently the only person in all of this who’s on my side.”

“Hey! That's not fair!”

“Not fair? Life’s not fair! And you know what, something else that’s not fair? Dad, you told me you thought I looked like you were driving me to my execution. We both knew it was a proposal, yet that's how you thought I looked. And somehow that didn't make you question anything? I couldn't tell you if I was okay or not. Again, you didn't question it. I asked you if there was another option to answering him! Again, you just told me to go ahead. To listen to what Blaine had to say.

“Isabelle didn't tell me what to do, she told me to listen to myself! She reminded me that I do have options. I'm the one choosing which one to take, and that's going to the airport and then back home.

“Now, are you going to drive me?”

Kurt waits for an answer. Once he finds himself beginning to count seconds he gives up. He walks over to the car, grabs his bags, tells his dad he'll call once he lands and starts walking. His blood is pounding in his ears, to the point where it’s all he hears, and he just. Keeps. Walking. Reaching the end of the driveway makes it feel better, but not safe, not yet. He takes the first corner, twists through the sidestreets with hurried steps, looking for a place to hide and make a call.

Ten minutes later he’s in the back of a cab, heading towards the airport, with his phone turned off and his heart in his throat, feeling utterly, heartbreakingly relieved.

~The End ~

[malarkay]

To Walk With Dreams and Darkness

Alright, I’ve decided to start posting my Storm Hawks/Harry Potter crossover fic, because I’m impatient.  I only have a few chapters written, and I write slow, so I’m only going to post the prologue for now.  The prologue is a little dark.  The main story will not be, at least for a while.

Summary:  The year: 1982. The place: Brixton, London, England. Piper is a normal 11-year-old kid trying to enjoy the summer holiday with her foster brothers, Aaron and Finn. But when a stranger shows up bearing an acceptance letter to a place called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she's swept away to a magical world, one that is just beginning to heal from a brutal, decade-long war. There she will make new friends and new enemies. And she just might find herself a part of something bigger than she ever imagined.

                                                  Prologue: 

Cyneric Cyclonis frowned as a sudden, searing pain flared in his forearm. He looked to Kestrel, who was rubbing her arm with a frown that mirrored his own.

The Dark Lord was calling. And from the strength of the summons, he was in a furious mood.

 "I'll get Lark," Kestrel said as he conjured their uniforms. She returned presently with their sleepy but uncomplaining daughter in tow. It was late, but they had impressed upon her from a young age the importance of not keeping them, and by extension, their capricious master, waiting.

 "Your mother and I have a meeting to attend," he told her. "You're going to stay with your grandmother."

 She nodded, and they traveled via the Floo Network to his mother's estate. They found her there in the sitting room, reading.

 She arched an eyebrow at their arrival. "I wasn't aware there was a meeting scheduled for tonight."

 "Neither were we."

 "You look pensive.  Do you think it wise to attend?"

 "I think we don't have a choice.  If we haven't returned or sent word in two hours?" he prompted.

 "Go into hiding. Yes, I know the protocol."

 He nodded and turned to Lark, kissing her forehead. "Love you, fy bach i. Don't give your grandmother too much trouble."

 "I won't," she promised, hugging him. When she released him, he stepped back and put on his mask, watching as Kestrel said goodbye to Lark.

 Once Kestrel was ready to go, they Apparated together to the Dark Lord's position and found themselves in the drawing-room of Malfoy Manor.

 The Dark Lord sat before them in a high-backed armchair set off to the side of the massive fireplace. Lucius Malfoy stood stiffly to his right. A quick glance around the room revealed no others, and the long table they usually sat around when a meeting was held at the Malfoy's was pushed up against the far wall.

 "My Lord," Cyneric and Kestrel greeted in unison, heads bowed.

 "There's no need for the masks," the Dark Lord said. "It's just the four of us tonight."

 They lowered their hoods and removed their masks, setting them down on a nearby side table. Cyneric glanced back to Lucius. "Cousin," he greeted the younger man.

 Lucius nodded his greeting, not meeting his eyes.  His usual poise and arrogance were missing tonight, and Cyneric didn't like it. Then the Dark Lord spoke again, and his stomach tied itself into a sick knot.

 "I have heard some disturbing rumors. About you."

 He sidestepped closer to Kestrel, his hand seeking hers. She took it; her palm was sweaty.

 "Rumors, my Lord?"

 "Rumors that call into question your loyalty to me," the Dark Lord said, his voice as cold as death.

 "I assure you, my Lord, our loyalty to you is as strong as ever it was," he said, willing his voice to remain steady.

 The Dark Lord was out of his seat in an instant, fury burning in his eyes. "You dare lie to me? Or did I never truly have your fealty?"

 Cyneric tapped a finger against Kestrel's palm twice. It was their signal to Disapparate. He could buy her some time to escape, to get their family and get away from the Dark Lord's wrath. Almost immediately, Kestrel swiped a finger in a straight line across his palm. Negation. Or failure.

 He tried to Disapparate them both. Nothing happened. Someone had put up an Anti-Apparition Charm since their arrival. They weren't alone.

 In one smooth motion, Cyneric pushed Kestrel away from him, drew his wand, and spun around to cast the Stunning Spell at whoever he knew must be lurking behind them.

 His instincts proved true as his Stunner was deflected, and his attack returned twofold. He cast a Shielding Charm, and the two spells dissipated as they hit his shield. Not Unforgivable Curses, then. He was surprised, given the casters: Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange. They were not known for their restraint. Lord Voldemort must have given orders not to kill. That didn't bring him any comfort.

 They stared at each other for a moment, waiting to see who would be the next to act. Behind Cyneric, Lord Voldemort seemed content to see how things played out.

 In the end, it was Kestrel who broke the brief cease-fire, throwing a curse at Bellatrix, who deflected it. The curse hit a mirror, which exploded, sending shards of glass and wood flying. Bellatrix laughed in delight, "That's seven years of bad luck! Too bad you won't be living that…"

 Bellatrix's words cut short as Kestrel flicked her wand toward her once more, and a large shard of the mirror shot toward her.  Bellatrix flinched back, and the glass sailed past, slicing a shallow cut across her cheek instead of ripping open her throat as intended.

 Bellatrix's retaliation was swift as she slashed her wand at Kestrel.  "Sectums…"

 "No!" 

 Cyneric fired on Bellatrix before she could complete her spell, engulfing her in a nimbus of blue light that blasted her off her feet.  He wheeled back toward Rodolphus, throwing up another Shielding Charm just in time to block the barrage of spells the man sent his way.  Rodolphus was relentless, pressing forward with each attack, forcing Cyneric back.  He could see flashes of light in his peripheral vision, knew that Bellatrix was back in the fight, but he didn't dare break his concentration to see how Kestrel was faring. 

 Tiring of the onslaught, he pushed his Shielding Charm toward the other man. It barreled into Rodolphus, shoving him back until he was pinned against the wall, unable to move.  Cyneric looked over to Kestrel and Bellatrix.  Bellatrix snapped her wand like a whip handle.  A cord of orange light shot from the end of her wand toward Kestrel, trying to ensnare her.  Kestrel sliced at it several times with a Severing Charm, but it kept coming, snaking around her wand arm.  Bellatrix pulled her wand back, and the cord began to retract, dragging Kestrel toward Bellatrix as it went. 

 "So, you like playing with sharp things, do you?" Bellatrix asked, drawing the ornate silver knife she liked to carry.  "So do I."

 Still pointing his wand at Rodolphus to keep him pressed against the wall, Cyneric drew the secondary wand he kept on hand in case of disarmament or damage to his primary one.  "Locomotor," he incanted, pointing his second wand at the rug upon which the two women stood, pulling it out from under them and sending them both sprawling.  Bellatrix's concentration broke, and the cord vanished, allowing Kestrel to scramble away as he wrapped Bellatrix in the rug. 

 "Duro!"

 Kestrel's spell hardened the rug into stone, trapping Bellatrix within. 

 "Watch out!" Kestrel warned him, and he ducked as a streak of red light flashed by overhead, a Stunner fired by Rodolphus.  He had managed to free himself while Cyneric was dealing with Bellatrix.  An unfortunate flaw with dual-wielding wands.  Spells cast simultaneously were weaker than a single spell to which you devoted your full attention.

 He had scarcely had time to straighten before a second Stunner struck Kestrel in the back, cast by Lucius.  Damn the man!  He had hoped, foolishly, that he would stay out of the fight.  She collapsed, unconscious, and he rushed to her side. 

 "Reducto!" 

 Nearby, the hardened carpet erupted in a shower of stone, freeing Bellatrix.  He covered his head with his arms as he crouched over Kestrel, protecting them both from the debris that rained down around them. 

 As he did, he heard both Bellatrix and Lucius yelling at Rodolphus. 

 "You idiot!  That was an antique rug!"

 "What were you thinking?  You could have blown me up along with the carpet!"

 Taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Cyneric pointed his wand to the fireplace before slashing his wand horizontally as he spun in a circle.  The flames leapt out of the fireplace, roaring along the path he set for it, surrounding him and Kestrel in a protective ring of fire that stretched nearly to the vaulted ceiling. 

 He pointed his second wand at Kestrel. 

 "Rennervate."

 The wall of fire sputtered but held, and he refocused his attention on maintaining it as Kestrel stirred.  She lurched to her feet in alarm, eyes wide as she stared at the fire.  "It's okay," he assured her.  "It's my spell."

 "Are you certain about that?"

 He frowned.  Watching carefully, he noticed what Kestrel had, that the circle was closing in around them.  Kestrel raised her wand to help him wrest back control over the flames.  Standing back-to-back, they pushed back the fire, widening their circle and giving themselves more breathing room.  The others pushed back, and it became a game of tug of war between the two sides. 

 "We can't win," Kestrel said quietly.  It wasn't a question, or even a lamentation, just a statement of fact. 

 "We can try."

 "Even if we were to take down the Lestranges," she mused.

 "And Lucius," he added.

 "There's still the Dark Lord."

 Cyneric drew in a deep, shuddering breath, releasing it as a sigh.  "I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry I got you into this."

 "That's not what I need to hear from you right now."

 He glanced back at her, felt a lump form in his throat. 

 "I love you."

 "That's better," she looked back over her shoulder at him, giving him a sad smile.

 "Oh?" he asked, turning his attention back to the flames.  "Is that all you have to say?"

 Her voice, which had been so steady up until that point, cracked as she replied, "I love you, too."

 "You ready to get back out there?"

 "As ready as I'll ever be."

 "Firestorm."

 Together, they channeled all their power into this one spell, twirling their wands clockwise overhead.  The fire ring began to spin, morphing into a cyclone of flame with them at the eye.  Slashing their wands downward, they sent the flames radiating out like a shockwave, scattering their opponents. 

 The wall of fire shrank as the flames licked across the floor, reaching waist height by the time it crashed against the walls like a wave breaking against a cliff, sending a violent shower of sparks into the air.  Some of those sparks caught and ignited the canvas of one of the many family portraits that decorated the wall, a painting of his Maternal Great-Grandfather Typhon Malfoy.  Typhon fled into a nearby portrait, glaring out at them in pinch-faced disapproval.

 It took the others a dishearteningly short amount of time to regroup.  Almost immediately, a volley of spells assailed them.  He batted away the attacks that came near him with his spare wand while casting his own with his main.  He fought without much thought or finesse, now.  At his back, he could feel Kestrel do the same, desperately firing off a flurry of spells in the hopes that one would find a target.

 A jet of red light came straight for him, and he deflected it, failing to notice the second jet that followed closely behind.  The second spell struck him square in the chest, and the world faded around him.

 When he came to, he found Bellatrix and Rodolphus standing above him, wands at the ready.  Turning his head, he saw that Lucius had a hold on Kestrel from behind, his wand pointed at her throat.  He felt around for his wands, found one on the ground beside him, and pointed it defiantly at Bellatrix, who snickered. 

 "Enough," Lord Voldemort said.  "Know when you've been beaten."

 Cyneric looked over to where Lord Voldemort sat.  The room was a mess, but a one-meter ring around his chair sat entirely unscathed, as did the Dark Lord himself.  Lord Voldemort raised his wand, and Cyneric found himself divested of his own.

 Rodolphus grabbed Cyneric and dragged him over to Lord Voldemort, forcing him to his knees. Lucius was only marginally gentler with Kestrel as she was made to kneel beside him.

 "Now then," Lord Voldemort said, conversationally. "Let us return to the discussion at hand. This could just be a terrible misunderstanding. That's why I've kept it a family affair."

 "My Lord," Kestrel began, and Lord Voldemort held up a hand for silence.

 "There will be time for you to plead your case. But first, let me tell you what I know. You see, Bellatrix came to me with an interesting tale. She said that she had heard from her sister that you have been planning to betray me. Her sister, of course, had heard it from Lucius. And who was it who told Lucius?"

 Here Lord Voldemort paused.

 "Please, my Lord, I…"

 Lord Voldemort cut him off, "Yes, you! Naturally, I had to investigate this claim further. So, I spoke to Narcissa. She told me that you had tried to recruit Lucius into joining your little coup d'état. Of course, she realized that such an attempt would be doomed to failure. She worried about what might happen to her husband should he be tempted to join you. Then I spoke with Lucius."

 His voice grew colder as he stared hard at Lucius. "And he assured me that, while you had approached him, he had no intention of taking part in your plan. The only reason he had not yet told me himself was that he hoped he could dissuade you and bring you back into the fold without any...ugliness. That might even have worked had he not told Narcissa of your initial conversation. But I understand that it must be difficult for spouses to keep secrets from one another. Isn't that right?"  He turned his red-eyed gaze upon Kestrel, who averted her eyes.  Any hope Cyneric had that he could keep her from being implicated in this died with those words. Even if he had kept her in the dark, Lord Voldemort would never believe it.

 "Tell me," Lord Voldemort continued, looking back to Cyneric. "Is what they say true? Or did Lucius misinterpret your words?"

 Cyneric remained silent. He knew he was being toyed with. There was little hope of him believing any denials he could voice, no matter how plausibly he could spin his lies. He doubted Lord Voldemort fully believed Lucius' claims of innocence, either, but he was willing to overlook the man's transgressions in exchange for his cooperation tonight.

 But he couldn't admit the truth outright. They had to buy enough time for his mother to realize what had happened and act.

 Lord Voldemort sighed. "Perhaps you require assistance in loosening your tongues. Which one of you would break first under the right amount of pressure, I wonder? Lucius, what do you think?"

 There was a long pause. Cyneric wasn't certain whether Lucius was considering the question or simply didn't want to answer. But he couldn't stall forever.

 "Cyneric, my Lord. He's the more ardent of the two."

 Lord Voldemort nodded, and Bellatrix's eager voice rang out. "Crucio!"

 Beside him, Kestrel screamed, her back arched and her head thrown back as the curse tore through her.

 Cyneric surged to his feet. Or rather, he tried to, but Rodolphus held him in place. "He picked me!" he yelled at Lord Voldemort.

 "I am aware," Lord Voldemort answered after a long moment before gesturing toward Bellatrix, who lowered her wand. Kestrel collapsed forward onto her hands, taking deep, gasping breaths.

 "Did that stir up any memories?" Lord Voldemort asked after giving Kestrel a moment to recover.

 "Lucius lies!" Kestrel surprised both him and Lord Voldemort by saying. Shakily, she pushed herself upright. "He's jealous of Cyneric's standing with you, my Lord. You play them against each other so often, claiming first one and then the other as your second, that it was only a matter of time before one of them tried to rid themselves of the competition. He had to have known that Narcissa would go to Bellatrix with whatever story he concocted and that Bellatrix would go straight to you. I swear to you, neither my husband nor I would ever betray you, my Lord."

 Cyneric stared at her in amazement. He almost believed her; she sounded so sincere. Voldemort laughed, high and cold.  "I don't know which I find more impressive; your acting or your occlumency skills," he praised.  "If what you say is true, then let me into your mind so that I may see for myself."  He paused.  "No?  Very well."  He gestured once more to Bellatrix.

 "Crucio!"

 Another scream ripped out of Kestrel. She fell forward, curling up into a fetal position as if that would protect her from the curse. Lord Voldemort let it go on much longer this time. Lucius had to help Rodolphus hold Cyneric back as he screamed threats at Bellatrix.

 Bellatrix merely smiled, her wand remaining trained on Kestrel.

 "Enough," Voldemort commanded.

 Bellatrix reluctantly lifted the curse. Kestrel remained curled up in a ball, sobbing.

 "It pains me that I have to do this," Lord Voldemort finally spoke once Kestrel's cries had grown softer. "Every drop of pure blood shed weakens us. But I cannot let this betrayal stand, no matter how much I wish we did not have to lose two of our own this night. I know you have been plotting against me. Admit it and end her suffering. End your suffering."

 Kestrel had managed to sit up during Lord Voldemort's speech. She knelt with her head bowed, shoulders hunched. Tremors racked her body, but no fresh tears fell. Cyneric's heart clenched painfully as he looked at her.

When neither of them spoke, Lord Voldemort sighed in disappointment.  "You leave me no choice.  Bella, continue."

 "I have been plotting against you," Cyneric blurted before Bellatrix could obey.  He couldn't put Kestrel through another round of this.

 "Thank you for your honesty, at last," Lord Voldemort said. He raised his wand, aiming at Kestrel. "Avada Kedavra!"

 Cyneric's breath caught in his throat as Kestrel slumped, lifeless.  It was like an iron vice had closed around his chest, constricting.  He couldn't breathe, couldn't cry.  His vision went hazy as his head swam. 

Vaguely, he could hear voices.  They seemed so far away.  So insignificant.

 There was pain, then.  He barely registered it, but it made the voices clearer. 

 "-a question!"

 Kestrel was dead.  His wife was dead.  Kes...

 Pain exploded across the left side of his face, bringing him fully back to reality.  He raised his hand to his jaw, gingerly probing where Rodolphus had punched him.  Twice.

 "What?" he rasped.

 "I said the Dark Lord asked you a question," Rodolphus said. It was the longest sentence he'd ever heard the man string together. He laughed.

 Somewhere behind him, Bellatrix laughed, too. "He's cracked! How pathetic!"

 He fought to regain control, to stop the laughter that continued to bubble up, unbidden from within.  He had not cracked.  No, it would have been better if he had.  But despite his best efforts, he was still laughing as he spoke, "I just didn't know your husband was capable of speaking."

 Rodolphus punched him again, and he tasted blood.

 "Why?" Lord Voldemort asked. "Before you die, I want to know why you would betray me."

 The laughter died.  The dull certainty of his own impending death prompted him to speak frankly.  As frankly as he dared without revealing his true motive and putting the rest of his family at risk, anyway.

 "Because while there's no question that you can lead a revolution, you'll never be able to rule."

 That riled Bellatrix up again. "You filthy traitor, how dare you!"

 Lord Voldemort held up a hand, silencing her. "And why is that?"

 "You don't have the temperament for it.  You lead through fear. People won't tolerate living like that forever. They will rebel. Again, and again, as many times as they need to, to be rid of you. There would never be peace.  It would destroy our world."

 "So your plan was to wait for me to win this war, assassinate me, then assume the mantle of benevolent dictator yourself?"

 "Essentially."

 "Then we have nothing more to discuss here. Avada Kedavra!"

 The last thing Cyneric saw was a flash of green light.

 ~*~*~

 "What happened here tonight stays between us," Lord Voldemort said. "Bellatrix, Rodolphus, gather their belongings and deliver the bodies to their home. But be circumspect."

 "No Dark Mark?" Bellatrix sounded disappointed.

 "No."

 As the Lestranges gathered up the discarded masks and wands, Lord Voldemort turned to Lucius. "They had children, did they not?"

 "One. A daughter."

 "How old?"

 "Nine, I believe."

 "Not yet attending Hogwarts. Excellent." He raised his voice to be heard by the others. "While you're there, Bellatrix, kill the girl."

 "My Lord," Lucius cut in. "That will end their bloodline."

 "The loss of another Pure-blood lineage is a tragedy," Lord Voldemort agreed. "They should have thought of that before they stood against me."

 "Consider it already done, my Lord," Bellatrix said. He appreciated her unwavering enthusiasm for destruction.

 She lifted the Anti-Disapparition Jinx she had cast earlier, and she and Rodolphus disappeared, bodies in tow.

 Lord Voldemort glanced around the ruined room once they were gone. Broken glass, splintered wood, and chunks of stone littered the ground.  Furniture laid overturned.  Scorch marks marred the floor.  The portraits that usually hung so straight and proud were in disarray.

 "Your House-elf has his work cut out for him, Lucius." His lips twitched in amusement. "It's as if a storm tore through here."

[visenyatargaryn]

Once, she had been a wife, a mother… someone who had finally found their happily ever after. However, that all came crashing down once the bombs fell and her once beautiful life turned into ashes before her eyes. After being the only survivor from Vault 111, Evangeline made her way into what was now known as the Commonwealth with one mission in mind:

To find her son and get revenge on the bastard who murdered her husband.

With the ongoing search, Evangeline eventually found herself in one particular neighborhood where she would meet a peculiarly dressed ghoul who—unbeknownst to her, would become the one to drag her out of her ever-growing darkness and back into the light. However, will it be enough to find her son? To save him from the clutches of the Institute? Or will she forever lose the last thing that brought happiness to her?

CHAPTER THREE || Drown Your Sorrows || M || 2555 words || ao3

With the help of an old acquaintance, Evangeline and the synth detective—Nick Valentine, both uncover a clue that helped them gain a step closer in answering a long-awaited question. The location of the Institute. However, to achieve such an accomplishment, Evangeline would have to trek across an extremely dangerous area. A place where many don't survive, and if they do... they turn into ghouls—if they're lucky.

Later, Evangeline finds herself wanting to forget painful memories that had been resurfaced after delving into the memories of the infamous mercenary—Kellogg. To do just that, she ends up in the only place in Goodneighbor that has what Evangeline needs—The Third Rail.

Even with all the stimpaks, it had taken Evangeline a month to recover from her injuries. Her condition had been a lot worse than she realized, and band-aids don’t necessarily fix bullet holes—or broken bones for that matter. She had refused to take any chems to relieve the pain, afraid that it would make her addicted, but instead took it from the bottle—which, in a way, wasn’t much better.

While she was bedridden for the first week, Hancock had kept her company for the most part. He asked her an endless amount of questions about who she was and where she came from—innocent questions that she could easily answer. At some point, Evangeline felt that she could begin to trust the strange ghoul who had taken her in, so she told Hancock her secret—that she had been alive before the war. At first, he was hesitant to believe her, skeptical if she was bluffing or not, but soon realized that Evangeline was telling the truth. This led to even more questions that would need answered—things that she would have instead kept buried deep within. Still, she told him enough to pique his interest and nothing more.

Eventually, Hancock had finally sent word to her about Nick Valentine’s arrival and that she would find him waiting for her at the Memory Den. Since her leg had not fully recovered yet, she had to use a crutch to get places beyond a couple of steps. Evangeline found it quite troublesome, especially when it came to trekking down the Old State House's spiral staircase—which almost ended in disaster on multiple occasions. After meeting up with the synth detective, they talked to Doctor Amari about their situation and how they needed Kellogg's memories—to locate the Institute's location. At first, she refused while not wanting to take any part in desecrating the dead, but eventually changed her mind once Evangeline showed her the augmenter that she had found attached to Kellogg’s head—or brain to be more precise.

After Doctor Amari examined it, she then wired it into Nick’s interface with the implant in hand to find that it had been encrypted—a failsafe to protect the Institute’s secrets. After their original plan had dissolved, Amari had another idea. She told them that to decrypt the memories, it would require two minds instead of one. Without a second thought, Evangeline agreed—not once considering the potential dangers that may put her at risk. If it meant finding her son, though, then it was worth it—no matter the cost. Evangeline, along with Nick, hopped into the Memory Lounges to finally find the answer to a long-awaited question.

While she explored Kellogg’s memories, Evangeline realized that the merc was not so different from herself. They both had fathers that hardly loved them and later lost those that meant the world to them. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would have followed the same path had Shaun met the same fate as her husband. Would she, too, be a cold-blooded killer? Or would she have taken a different route entirely? In the end, it was too late to dwell on such thoughts as Kellogg was now dead, and she was the one still drawing breath.

Once they had found what they were looking for—that the Institute was using teleportation as a means to enter their facility, she headed upstairs to discuss everything with Nick. She needed to head into the Glowing Sea to find this rogue scientist—Virgil, who used to work for the Institute. It was a treacherous territory, as it was a place that produced enough radiation to either kill someone—or turn them into a ghoul. Nick offered to tag along, but Evangeline refused, knowing that his place was in Diamond City, where the people needed him more.

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

After a couple of weeks had passed since her walk through memory lane, Evangeline decided to finally explore Goodneighbor. Her curiosity about the little neighborhood getting the best of her. It seemed like nothing of importance from outside the walls, but once inside, one would never guess the two were the same. The interior of the place reminded Evangeline of a time where she still bore a hint of innocence—when she worked at the dance club in Philadelphia not long after graduation. Its neon lights, rundown atmosphere, and intoxicating smell brought back many memories. The smell itself was a mixture of sex, chems, and alcohol—an unpleasant combination, she thought.

One evening, Evangeline found herself at the Third Rail after being in a foul mood all day. It was a fine establishment, considering it was built into an old subway station. The music was beautiful, as was the woman singing it—who wore a red sequin dress and had short dark hair that came just above her shoulders. Making her way through the crowd, Evangeline could hear the patrons' whispers as she passed by them.

“That’s the woman the Mayor killed Finn for..” she heard one man say to someone.

“What makes her so special that he had to put down one of our best fighters?” another asked.

Most of the comments were about how Hancock had saved her life, while others were viler. Those ones, in particular, made her skin crawl. Finally making her way to the bar, Evangeline found an empty seat where she settled herself into.

“So what’ll it be?” a gruff voice asked.

Evangeline had not expected the bartender to be a Mr. Handy since she came by so few during her travels. It appeared to be the same make and model as Codsworth was, except that this one had a British accent and wasn’t as friendly.

“Whiskey,” she answered.

She watched as the robot poured a glass of the substance in front of her. It was one of her go-to drinks, especially when she was having a bad day. Picking up the glass, Evangeline swirled the amber liquid around before taking a sip. The beverage burned as it made its way down her throat, which then engulfed her body in a blanket of warmth.

Looking around, she noticed that most of the patrons there were ghouls—men and women alike. At first, it surprised her to see this many in one general area, but then later realized that Goodneighbor must be a sort of sanctuary for them. It was no surprise to her, given how most of the Commonwealth held a disliking towards them. In the crowd, Evangeline spotted an all-too-familiar face across the room. Hancock was sitting on a couch that had seen better years with two attractive women sitting relatively close—one of which was sitting on his lap. Enough hands were wandering to give one the idea of their intentions by the end of the night. The three of them seemed to be having a good time. She also noticed that their table was littered with empty containers of jet, mentats, and alcohol bottles.

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of her stomach as she watched them. They were all smiles and laughter, as was everyone else in the room, and here she was—sitting alone and miserable as ever. Evangeline had not felt more out of place than she did at this moment.

“You look like you could use some company,” a voice came from beside her.

Taking the empty barstool next to her was a man with handsome features. He had pale blue eyes and hair, the color of sand. Evangeline didn’t know who he was or what he wanted—which made her be even more on edge than usual.

“Go away,” Evangeline said plainly. She was in no mood for conversation and preferred to be left alone, even if he was easy on the eyes.

“C’mon now, darlin’. That’s no way to treat a friendly face,” he said, not taking heed to her words.

Admittedly, Evangeline knew that she was quick to judge. However, she had dealt with enough monsters in her lifespan to know the worst ones were always those who didn’t look the part. Sure enough, Evangeline felt him place his hand on her knee, which caused a sick feeling within her from the interaction.

She closed her eyes, wishing to be elsewhere.

Evangeline recalled being in a similar situation many years ago, about a year after being employed at the strip district's dance club. Evangeline had been sitting alone at the bar during one of her breaks, drowning herself in a bottle of whiskey, when a middle-aged man approached her. He wanted only one thing from her—as all men did, and it had terrified her. Evangeline told him no countless times, hoping it would make him go away. However, it only seemed to make him more persistent. Thankfully, before it could go any further, one of the girls of the establishment had put a stop to his unwanted advances.

“Take your fucking hand off of me,” Evangeline said slowly, with a bite of irritation in her tone.

The man beside her laughed. “Or what? Look around you, sweetheart. Ain’t nobody gonna save you. You’re just another stray Hancock has taken in, and nothing more.”

The words hit harder than Evangeline cared to admit. A stray—that was something she had always been—someone with no place to call home. Someone who had always been a poor, helpless, unfortunate soul that others looked upon with pity. Maybe he was right, she thought miserably. Maybe I am nothing more than just another stray looking for a handout. Evangeline shook her head as if to rid herself of such thoughts. Perhaps she was a stray, but she wasn’t nothing, no—she had never been nothing. Evangeline had made a name for herself before the war. She had been considered one of the greatest detectives that Boston had ever seen.

But what use was that now?

She took another drink from her glass, only to find out that it was empty. Evangeline swore under her breath. If she was to deal with this asshole, then she was going to need more whiskey. Signaling the barkeep for another drink, Evangeline looked to where she had last seen Hancock. Unfortunately, the spot he had been sitting was now empty with neither him nor his companions in sight. Evangeline didn’t necessarily need his help, but because she knew next to nobody here—it would have eased her mind a little if he were still present.

Evangeline took a swig of whiskey—emptying the glass entirely, and sat it down on the counter hard. “Listen, I don’t know who you are, nor do I fucking care. I just want to be left the fuck alone, okay?”

What patience she had was currently wearing thin as a throbbing pain began to form at her temple. Evangeline decided she should turn in for the night and sleep off the headache—and to rid herself of the unwanted company. Pushing the glass away, she stood and placed a handful of caps on the counter.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked, grabbing ahold of her wrist. “We ain’t done yet.”

She whipped around and struck him, causing him to stumble off the barstool and hit the ground hard with a clash. Evangeline didn’t bother to see if he was okay—not that she cared either way, as she wanted to make herself scarce. The entire room had fallen silent, and everyone’s attention now fell upon the commotion that had just occurred. Making her way through the crowd, Evangeline could feel her heart pounding in her chest—fearing that it may actually burst from its cavity. However, she dared not show an ounce of fear because Evangeline knew a place such as Goodneighbor—would be a death sentence. She was currently a lamb that found its way inside a lion’s den and was awaiting the inevitable slaughter.

Once outside, a chill went through her as she stepped out into the crisp night air. Tugging her jacket tighter, Evangeline started off toward The Hotel Rexford to rent out a room for the night. Evangeline had a feeling that Hancock was currently entertaining his companions from earlier, and she would rather not walk in on that. Besides, it wasn’t like Evangeline had to sleep there, and she knew her absence would not go noticed anyway—as it always has.

Upon entering the old hotel, a musty odor of over-aged furniture and stale tobacco filled the air. Surveying the place, Evangeline saw pieces of faded-yellow wallpaper peeling away from years of neglect. At the front desk was a short elderly woman with dark skin who was in deep conversation with a tall, dark-haired man who wore a high-quality suit. Evangeline knew she shouldn’t interrupt the two, but she was tired and needed somewhere to cope with tonight’s events. Her footsteps echoed over the wooden floor as she made her way to the desk, which caused them both to look up.

“Umm, excuse me?” Evangeline said meekly, giving them both her best smile. “I was hoping I could get a room here…”

The dark-haired man whispered something into the woman’s ear before taking his leave, who then gave Evangeline her full attention.

“Alright, that’ll be ten caps,” she said plainly.

“Thank you,” Evangeline said as she exchanged what was left of her caps for the keys to the room.

“It’s on the second floor, the last door on the right,” the receptionist called after her as she headed towards the stairs.

Once inside her room, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Evangeline realized she was shaking. Whether it was from the cold or what had happened tonight, she wasn’t sure—perhaps both? It also occurred to her that she had now made an enemy here and wasn’t sure what that meant—would Hancock throw her out because she harmed one of his own? What Evangeline did know, however, was that she now had to be extra careful because she knew damned well that he would want revenge for what she had done.

In truth, she hated it here, not just in Goodneighbor but in the Commonwealth's entirety. Evangeline wanted her old life back. She was so tired of always hurting. She wanted to laugh again, to be happy once more—to not be wary of everyone she met. To be able to walk the streets of Boston without having to constantly look over her shoulder out of fear.

Letting out a shaky breath, Evangeline sluggishly made her way over to the dresser where a bottle of vodka was sitting. Taking off her jacket, she grabbed the bottle and took a long drink from it. By the time Evangeline was finished, she felt a bit woozy—enough that she had to use the dresser for support. Placing the bottle back on the dresser, she stumbled over to the bed and sat on the mattress. It creaked under her weight as she laid down—curling herself in a ball. However, there were no blankets, but Evangeline was grateful that at least the room was quite warm. While she laid there, Evangeline tried not to think about the man from the bar or her current situation as she closed her eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep.

[pulpwriterx]

BEN SOLO ALL THESE YEARS

Rey decided to stay on Tattoine.

The desert, after all, was her home.

Poe went back into the spice business, and even branched out to include good booze and cigarillos.

Finn joined him in yo ho, you ho,  a pirate's life for me.

And in their business?

They needed a good scavenger.

A year or  so went by.

Finn and Poe bought themselves a posh bachelor pad in Anchorhead, but Rey preferred solitude.

She knew that that both of them would have been willing to give her a shoulder to cry on, and the benefit of a man's company.

But after the way Ben died in her arms, Rey wasn’t ready to hold a man, again.

The old Skywalker farm didn’t look like it, but it was a nice place to live.

It had been Ben’s home, after all. 

He had left the outside looking run down and desolate, like no one lived there, but past the blighted door in the dusty courtayrd, it was a different story.

Typical Ben.

When you took off his mask, he had another mask on beneath that, and beneath that was a big story, a tall tale, and a pack of ever-evolving half-truths and outright lies.

He had restored the old farm, on the inside, and underneath, where the farming equipment and tanks had been, he kept a smuggler’s treasure trove.

Tunnels filled with all kinds of swag, from booze and cigarillos to old Rebel Alliance and Imperial Uniforms, and less innocent cargo like crates of blasters and pallets of coaxium.

There was also five years of food and supplies, and one of the tanks had even been converted into a vault. It was full of credits, black molded chests of Imperial gold coins, money from all over the Galaxy.

Ben had left the farm, and all it’s contents to Rey Skywalker.

He had also left the Millenium Falcon to Rey, but she hadn’t the heart to fly the ship she loved so much.

With both Ben and Han Solo dead, neither with a final resting place?

The ship was like their tomb.

The Falcon, and Ben’s secret refuge, with it’s hidden treasures; they were all, in some strange way, his legacy.

When Rey wasn’t whizzing around the stars with her friends, she led a peaceful, solitary life as the guardian of the legacy of the family that gave all for the peace that finally broke out in the Galaxy.

Besides, she wasn’t wholly alone.

Poe always let BB8 go with her, to keep tabs on her, and Threepio and Artoo were glad to finally get to go home.

It was a special place for her.

In the two years between when she and Ben killed Snoke, and when they killed the Emperor?

They used to meet at the Skywalker Farm.

Their bonds remained unbroken, even after she had rejected his offer to join him,  and they had grown closer, not just through the talks, and the laughing, and the stories, most of which were lies.

Yelling.

Pointing fingers.

Sneering.

Cursing.

Stamping feet.

Breaking things.

Throwing shit about.

Lightsaber duels.

Even the bad times, even the shit times were precious to her, now.

Rey would sit, quietly, watching the twin suns, and think about the past.

Like the time they had a horrible fight through their bond, and called each other vicious names, and threw things at each other, and smashed up their own gear, in a rage.

But then Ben had said.

“I need to see you in person, Rey.”

“Why? What can we do in person that we can’t do through our little talks?”

“We can make love. Don’t you want to? I do.”

“There is nothing like love between us, Kylo Ren!”

Ben had given her the Solo shrug.

“Then we can fuck. I'd rather fuck. I was just trying to be chivalrous.”

And somewhere in their laughter, they had agreed to meet at the Skywalker farm, on Tattoine.

Rey had no idea that Ben had a home, and it became their refuge.

Rey would lie there, in Ben's big, brass bed, and close her eyes and think about when he was there, beside her.

Those stolen days and nights where they would laugh, and fight, and screw, and cuddle under the fur blanket in the cold desert night and plan for a future they both knew would never happen.

Sometimes, she could almost feel his big body, lying there beside her, and she could smell his scent.

Hear his voice.

Feel the way her little body had moved under his big, strong hands.

Of course she would also lie there and think about their lovemaking and take care of her business.

She could have had Finn, or Poe, but Ben was like an animal, like a man in the state of nature; he had been born without shame, and he had unchained a passion in her that Rey had never known she possessed.

Not that she had been a prude, but her interest in men, and her occasional dealings with them had been, well, ordinary.

Now who the hell would she find to satisfy the unchained, shameless desire that Kylo Ren Ben Solo had awakened in her?

Rey often cried, bitter tears.

But that was life.

Love is death, life is pain, and somehow you muddle through.

***

In the second year since Ben died, Rey was walking down a busy street in Anchorhead when she saw Chewie.

They hugged, and Rey was truly happy.

She took him to Poe and Finn's and they tried to get information out of him, but Chewie would only say he was working.

As he left, he asked Rey a very honest question.

“Are you happy?”

“I am content, Chewie. I have friends, work, a place to live, enough money, and I have peace.”

“But are you happy?”

“No. Happiness died with Ben. A lot of things died for me, with Ben. Love. Hope. Any interest I had in men, poor Poe, and poor Finn. But I still have life. And I can still enjoying being content with it.”

***

A few nights later, Rey had a dream about Ben.

It was a wild, sweaty, deeply pornographic wet dream that she woke up from in the throes of the kind of an orgasm women could only have in their dreams.

Or, if they were lucky, with bad men like Ben Solo.

She sat up, throwing the blanket off.

“Rey.”

Rey's heart sang an aria.

“Ben! You found your way back? When will I be able to see you?”

But there was no reply.

Leading her to believe, alas, it had only been a beautiful dream.

***

When he had come to Oneness with the Force, Ben Solo found trouble in Paradise.

Master Yoda thought he was ready for the next step.

Master Obi Wan argued that he was too young, and had resolved none of the conflict that had brought him to ruin.

Master Anakin was more direct.

“Though a man, he is still a child. And his life has been suffering and tragedy. He is young, he has found love, and we should not cheat him of the life he has fought so hard to win. Send him back. Let him be Ben Solo, and live his life. He has many years to find the New Path.”

Ben tried to speak, to say what he wanted,  but found he could not.

“Young though he is, yes, but what life for him? Redeemed from Kylo Ren in our eyes. But what of the material world? If return he does, atone he must. But a bullseye on his back there will be!” Yoda insisted.

“That is a problem, Anakin.” Obi –Wan agreed.

“Then we will send my grandson back without healing his body. It will be broken. He will atone with his suffering.  We will send him to a distant planet to make his recovery, alone. Dependant on the charity of strangers he once oppressed.  Then let him make his way to more familiar planets, back to his identity and his home.” Anakin suggested.

“That sounds reasonable. We will give my namesake a test. But, Kylo Ren is dead. Ben Solo should not have to pay for his crimes. Then we will make it so the memory of his mask is preserved in the minds of all. But not his face. “ Obi-Wan suggested.

The others agreed.

“Speak now you may, young Skywalker. Until you find your way back, Skywalker shall you be called. Well? Back do you wish to go?” Yoda asked.

“Yes, Master Yoda. Back I wish to go.”

“Humor you have. Need it, you will.”

“But will I have to endure doctors? Needles?”

“Fear in your face, I see? Tortured you were, young Skywalker? Then your fear you must overcome.  Back you still wish to go?”

“Yes, Master Yoda. I will face my fear.”

“And Ben? No cheating? If your women, strong in the Force as they are, happen to find you? Or your family? We won’t keep them away. But if you call to them? You forfeit this chance.” Anakin told him.

“Wrong that is! In his sleep, will young Skywalker’s soul cry for help! No. Also must we use the Force to interrupt his bond. Until his test is finished. Though he will call? No answer will we allow to come.” Yoda decided.

“I agree. Only by doing the evil that Kylo Ren might have done will you forfeit your chance. Good luck, Ben.” Obi-Wan said

“I have always been with you, my grandson. If you need my strength during your trial? I will answer your call.” Anakin assured Ben

Then, Ben  fell into something like sleep.

***

He had a horrible dream, of waking up bloody and bruised on collapsing Exegol, limping or crawling out of the cave he was in, and then escaping in the still flyable remains of a crashed X-Wing

He woke up in a bacta tank, and panic seized him.

He started banging on the glass walls, screaming through the breather in his mouth.

The noise brought a Rodian in a white coat.

“Hey! Hey Dan, the big guy is awake! By the Force, he looks terrified.”

A guy his age with a moustache rushed into the room.

“Then let’s get him out. It’s OK, big fella. You’re safe. You’re in a Resistance hospital. There’s no more First Order. Nobody’s going to hurt you, here. Hurry up, Needo, help me, before he cracks the tank!”

The machine Ben was suspended from pulled him out, and he ripped all the wires off of his body, and crashed to the ground.

“No! No doctors! Get away from me!” he shouted.

Reduced to crawling away.

But there was nowhere to go.

“Its OK. There’s no torture droids here. You don’t have to get any injections. We're not going to bring you to the point of death, then put you in a bacta tank to fix you up, and then do it again.”

“You know about that?”

“The Empire did it to me the first time. I have a scar like the one on your other leg. But mine is only a few inches long. You must have really suffered.” The grey haired man said.

“I did. Where am I? Who are you? How much longer will this plexi-cast be on?”

The Rodian came with a long orange smock with the Resistance symbol on it, folded on a wheelchair.

“I’m Dan Antilles. I’m your doctor. You crash landed here, on Hoth. And you need another three weeks with that cast. Let me help you up. Now you might want to put this smock on, big fella. This is the size we usually use for Wookies.”

The Rodian helped Ben put the smock on.

It had long sleeves and it was fleecy and soft on the inside.

“I know you want crutches, but the break in your femur was bad. So, if you like being in the shape you’re in, and you want that leg to hold you up, later? Wheelchair. Nobody has to push you if you’d rather wheel yourself.”

Ben sat in the wheelchair, lifting his leg onto the platform for it.

“I can wheel myself.” He said.

“Good. I’ll show you around the place, and back to your bed.”

“Do you have a name, Big Guy?’

“Ben. Ben Skywalker.”

“Are you a Skywalker from Tattoine or a Skywalker from Arkanis?”

“Both. My grandfather was from Arkanis. His father died, and his mother became an indentured servant on Tattoine. We’re free, now, though.”

“Yeah, my family are from Corellia, but most of by father’s war buddies were from the Outer Rim. Tattoine, mostly. OK, Ben. It’s good to have you back. You scared us a little; we thought you might leave.”

“Me too.”

 ***

Snow.

Watching it snow.

Lying propped up on pillows, leaning against the wall, last cot on the ward.

A cot with a big “W” on it.

For Wookiee.

Techanically, Ben was a Wookiee, when Chewie became his godfather, he was adopted into Chewie’s clan.

Ben was thinking about Kashyyyk, actually, while watching it snow.

Thinking about how he might still be welcome, with Uncle Chewie.

Trying to get his spoon under the cast, to scratch his leg.

Watching it snow.

Blanket up to his chin, one knee up.

“...so, what happened was, there was like, a reason why Ben Solo killed Kylo Ren. More than just, you know, the war. Ben Solo and Kylo Ren, they were at the Jedi Temple together. They were friends. But they had a lightsaber fight over either the Force or a girl. I hear different things. And that's’ why Kylo Ren wore the mask because Ben Solo cut his nose off and scarred up his face...”

“Zak, can you stop talking about men? Why do you think I have my blanket pulled up?”

“You thinking about your nurse?”

“Can you stop talking to me? Forget it.”

“Sorry, Ben.”

“It’s not your fault, Zak. It’s this place.”

He looked out the window again.

Snow.

Snow.

Snow.

“I think about your nurse, too. She’s a big girl. She has to be six feet tall. And, like 200. But it’s in all the right places. And she’s a Twi’lek.” Zak said

“I’d like to jump into that girl and drown. Why isn’t she your nurse?” Ben asked

Zak shrugged.

Ben heaved himself off his cot and into his wheelchair.

“Well, I think I’ll go try to take a piss without pissing all over myself.”

“Good luck, man.”

***

The days bled into each other.

Ben finally looked inside the chest, under his bed, on the ward.

In the chest was his lost lightsaber, the blaster Uncle Lando had given him, his blaster belt, his lucky Sabacc dice, a couple of pair of coveralls, his boots, an X-Wing helmet, a money belt for under your clothes that had 500 credits in it, and a mess kit.

The X-Wing helmet had a number on it.

His Uncle’s.

“Humor you have. Need it, you will.” Ben muttered.

The plexi cast on his left leg came all the way up to his balls, and his leg always itched like it was on fire.

Meanwhile, no one asked him if he was related to  the Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.

When two weeks, and then two more passed and no celebrated persons came to claim him, people assumed that he was some distant relation.

They didn’t release him until after the cast came off, in another week.

Nobody had come for him, and he didn’t call for anyone, so he just left on his own, on a transport with hundreds of other displaced men and women with nowhere special to go.

***

The tiniest hint of a fly in the Force Ghosts’ ointment came around the time that Ben was leaving the Resistance Hospital.

General Leia-Organa Solo, also Senator Leia Organa-Solo, returned to her office on Coruscant as Senate staffers were packing up her things.

One boy almost dropped a picture of her, and Han, and Ben, and Leia caught it.

“Don’t look so frightened. I’m not a ghost.”

“But you’re dead, Senator?”

“I’m a Skywalker. We don’t just die, like other people. We have many deaths and many births, and live many lives inbetween? Less philosophically? I have too much to do to die just now. Maybe in another forty years, or so.”

The next day, after her first appearance in the Second Republic Senate, to announce that she was running for Prime Minister, Leia had an unscheduled visit in her office from Wedge Antilles.

“This had better be really important, Wedge.”

“I think it is. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I was talking to my son, last night. He saw your broadcast and it made him think of a patient of his. A man his own age that hasn’t been far from his mind. A big guy, about two meters, nearly six and a half feet tall. Long dark hair. Dark eyes. Had lots of battle scars. This kid landed a burning X-Wing on Hoth, came out of it with his flight suit in shreds, dragging a broken leg, raving about Exegol, killing them all, and finally being a free man. Spent three weeks in a Bacta tank, recovering from a whole slew of injuries, and another three weeks in a cast up to his nuts. The patient said his name was Ben Skywalker, that his father was a Corellian starpilot and his grandfather was a Skywalker from Arkanis who grew up on Tattoine. As soon as the cast came off, Ben Skywalker got on a transport with a bunch of other kids with nowhere to go and no one to see, and left the planet. And it wasn’t until Dan saw your broadcast that he made the connection, and called me about it. Does that sound like anybody you know, Leia?”

“It does. I’ve been sitting here all day, full of blind, stupid hope. Thinking that if I’m alive, then Ben might be, too. Waiting for that call.”

“Who the hell else would it be?”

“I don’t know, Wedge. But it sounds like he’s running.”

“You need help chasing him?”

“All I can get. We need to find this Ben Skywalker. But if he is my Ben? What the hell do we do, then? Poe Dameron and Rey spread it all over the Galaxy that Ben Solo fought and killed Kylo Ren and the Knights of Ren, and then he died and became One With the Force. And the smart little bastard wore a mask, most of the time.”

“Let it go, Leia. Any way you slice the pie? Kylo Ren is dead. If Ben Solo isn’t? Give him a chance. He killed Snoke. And the Knights of Ren.  He saved Rey. He saved you. And he helped Rey kill Palpatine. I think he deserves it.”

“Well, Chewie will be happy. I’ll talk to him, first.”

***

As soon as the transport landed, Ben began his wandering.

At first he figured it as a kind of  penance, for his many crimes.

He stopped wearing shoes, or cutting his hair and beard, and all he wore was a black hooded robe, closed with a belt from which hung a metal bowl and cup, a holstered knife, and his lightsaber.

At first Ben just begged, and wandered, changing his robes for coveralls and working on freighters for his passage from planet to planet.

But as time went on, he slipped into a lonely madness.

He took to standing on streetcorners and preaching about the evils of the old world.

“Stop and look at me! I am the mistakes of the past! My mother’s brother tried to murder me, and I murdered my father in turn! With these hands! These hands! This creature you see before you was once a man! Envied by Men, desired by Women! Who desires this creature, now? Who envies this wretch, now? Who?”

By this time a small crowd would have gathered around the very tall, very gaunt man, with wild eyes and a booming deep voice inside a nest of black hair and black beard.

“It was not the Force that did this to me! No, it was the order than we tried, for centuries to put on it. Dividing it, and ourselves into Dark and Light. Jedi and Sith. Empire and Republic. First Order and Resistance. It was this blasphemy against the balance and unity of the Force that brought our Galaxy into three generations of interplanetary war! And this Second New Republic is built on the truth! The truth there is no Dark, or Light. Jedi, or Sith. Only the Force, United. As it lives in all of us, and everything! As we find the balance, within ourselves, in accordance with our form and our nature. But I know there are those that preach the old heresies. When you hear them, think upon me!”

That’s when he would unbuckle his belt and take off his robe, showing them all his scarred, gaunt, filthy body.

Ben had even made the scar of the wound that Rey healed in the ruins iof the Death Star appear in his flesh.

“Stop and look at me! I am the mistakes of the past! My mother’s brother tried to murder me, and I murdered my father in turn! With these hands! These hands! This creature you see before you was once a man! Envied by men, desired by Women! Who desires this creature, now? Who envies this wretch, now? Who? Look on me and know it is time for old things to go. You must let the past die! Kill it, if you have to! Look upon me, and remember my words.”

Sometimes they would throw money in his bowl, sometimes throw things at him.

He hoped that a crowd would martyr him, but no one ever took him seriously enough to kill him.

He slept in alleys and doorways, stowed away on ships, and felt less than human.

Ben’s will to live left him as his madness spiralled out of control. He hardly ate and hardly slept, and his starving body devoured fifty pounds of his flesh, leaving him wiry, rawboned and gaunt.

He hardly felt human, or even humanoid, anymore, because  he was hairy, and smelly, and filthy, and he scavenged through garbage to eat,  like some wild animal.

At the end of a year, he ended up on Tattoine, intending to make a grand end to it.

He would give his sermon, throw off his robes and slit his wrists and his throat with a dirty piece of glass from the street.

But another vagrant warned him that the city fathers of Anchorhead had recently hired a former First Order officer as their chief of police, and although the new Chief understood smugglers were the lifeblood of Anchorhead, he was cracking down on street crime, con men, muggers, preachers, pushers, unregistered whores, and so on.

Ben quietly wished his former comrade well, and gave up the ghost.

But life clung, annoyingly to his skeletal frame.

He lay in the same doorway for three days, and three nights, and on the third night he knew that he was near death.

“Ben.”

He saw  a bluish light in the cold, dark desert night, and rolled his eyes upward.

The face he looked into was very much like his own.

If not for the fair hair and light eyes, it might have been his face.

Ben knew his rescuer, immediately.

“Grandfather. Have you come to take me home?”

“No, Ben. I have come to comfort you, in your suffering. I understand suffering. I understand the peace that comes from enduring suffering, and triumphing over it. But I want you to live. You have suffered enough. I release you from the restraints that we have put on your bond with Rey Skywalker. Call for help. I will wait with you, until she comes. Rey will take you home.”

***

“Rey. Rey, I need you.”

Rey sat up in the dark, and knew this was no dream.

She saw and heard Ben; she saw him through their bond.

But what she saw and heard was horrible.

His face was drawn and filthy, and the hand that reached to her looked skeletal.

He was swathed in a filthy robe, lying in a dirty doorway, in a back street of Anchorhead.

“I see you, Ben. I hear you.”

“Help me, Rey. I want to come home.”

Rey jumped out of bed and threw on her clothes.

“I’m coming, Ben. Wait for me. Don’t leave me, again!”

*** 

Rey stopped her speeder by the dirty doorway and was surprised to see the tall, broad-shouldered hulking Force ghost of Anakin Skywalker.

Gently, he picked up his broken, emaciated grandson, and carried him to the speeder.

“Master Anakin!” Rey gasped.

She watched him wrap Ben in the blanket she had brought, and gently lay him in the back seat of the speeder

“Take my grandson home. And don’t let him out of your sight until he’s well, again.”

“But I don’t know anything about healing! I don’t know who to call! I don’t know what to do! Someone has to help us!”

“There’s an old man living in my friend Ben Kenobi’s old shack. He claims to be a Jedi Healer. I will go there, now, and send him along to the Skywalker Farm. I am sure that he will be able to help you.”

Anakin Skywalker walked off towards the moonlit desert, and dissappeared into a little whirly of wind-driven sand..

***

Rey sped home, in a hurry.

Threepio helped her to carry what was left of Ben Solo into the house.

“Shouldn’t Master Ben have a doctor?”

“No, Threepio! No doctor! No medical droid! No bacta tank! No needle!”

Ben was terrified, but it was the first time he had spoken.

Rey was glad that he was alive enough to speak

“Alright, Master Ben. No doctor. Master Rey, what about the man in the kitchen.”

“He’s not a doctor. Master Ben hates doctors. Don’t talk about doctors! Help me get Master Ben into the bathroom, and tell that man to start doing...whatever it is he’s going to do. Have Artoo heat up some batha broth for Master Ben. Then you and Artoo go back to the shed. It’s too much for you.”

Rey slammed the door on the dithering droid, and went through the bedroom and back into the bathroom.

Ben had managed  to get his robe off and get into the bathtub.

He was covered in bruises and scratches, and you could see his ribs and his hipbones.

What was visible of his face out of the rat’s nest of tangled hair and beard was suffused with all the misery the human race had ever endured.

Rey turned the water on.

“Let me die, Rey. Now that I’m home. I don’t want to live.”

“I want you to live, Ben. This is my miracle, not yours.”

“Grandfather wants me to live. Do you? Really?”

“Yes, Ben, I do! I love you!”

“Then maybe I will live a little longer.”

He lay quietly in the warm water as she scrubbed the dirt off of him, and didn’t protest even though she had to wash his hair and comb the tangles and rats out with oil  several times, and then wash it, again.

It was either that or shave his head.

One of the Skywalkers had left his straight razor there, and Rey had polished it and sharpened it; why she wasn’t sure, but now she carefully shaved the filthy, matted beard away from Ben's gaunt face.

“Don’t shave it all. Kylo Ren didn’t wear a beard.” Ben told her.

It was the only thing he said, but his sad eyes watched her movements.

She helped him get out of the tub, and dried him.

“Thank you.” Ben said.

Ben leaned heavily on her as they made there way into the bedroom; he was still much larger and heavier than her.

But Rey didn’t complain.

She propped him up with pillows, and fed him sips of milk and sips of broth.

“Glass.” He said.

She handed him the glass of milk, and he gulped it down.

“Don’t, Ben, you'll get sick!”

He reached for the bowl, and sniffed it, like a dog, then put it back down.

“No. Meat.”

“You’ll get sick!”

Ben slammed his fist angrily on the nightstand.

“I’M DYING! MEAT, GODDAMN IT, GIVE ME MEAT!”

Bellowing  like an angry Wookiee.

A Wookiee.

Chewbacca was Ben's godfather; he had been adopted into Chewie’s tribe, and had a Wookie name.

Kallaurra.

Angry Wild Warrior.

But she didn’t know where Chewie was and Han and Leia were dead.

“Alright, Ben. Your Uncle Chewie taught me how to make a Wookiee stew. I’ll fix you some meat.”

Rey went out into the kitchen.

She felt helpless and alone.

I don’t know him. I don’t know him, at all.

Rey closed her eyes.

And she called to Master Leia.

As usual, there was no response.

Then she called to Master Luke.

“I’m right here. I told Ben Kenobi, and Master Yoda. Make sure Ben is with Rey. Father agreed with me. They didn’t listen.”

Rey opened her eyes.

Master Luke was sitting at the table.

“No matter where I go? I always seem to end up, right back here. On Tattoine. Now I’m here in the same house.”

“You’re the JedI Healer? When did you come back?”

“Right after I thought I died on Ahch-To. I got the same treatment Ben did. It wasn’t my time. I wasn’t ready. Next thing I knew, I was alive and well, and back on Tattoine. In Ben Kenobi’s hut.”

“I wish I would have known you were so close by.”

“I wish I would have told you.”

“Master Luke, did you ever take care of someone in Ben’s condition?”

“I don’t know what Ben’s condition is.”

Rey explained.

“I have seen men as sick as Ben, and I’ve tried to heal them. Some get better, Rey, and some don’t. They have to want to live. But I’ll do everything I can for Ben. Before I founded the new Jedi Temple,  I studied Jedi healing. I wanted to save lives to atone for the hundreds of thousands I had taken. And I have taken care of Ben when he’s sick.  And I also know how to get him to take medicine. You make something he likes and put it in his food.”

“But we don’t have any medicine.”

“I brought some.”

Master Luke reached into his pocket and got a white cylinder, which he put in Rey’s hands.

She opened it.

It was full of capsules.

“What are they?”

“No. The green capsules are vitamin pills. The orange ones are bacta. Just pop them open and put them in the stew I’m going to show you how to make. It’s a Wookiee recipe that Ben likes. Chewie showed me how to make it.”

Master Luke made a stew with bantha broth, vegetables, a whole nerf tenderloin, and potatoes.

He showed her also how much of the pills to put in.

“Don’t let him gobble it. Feed him a spoonful or two, and wait a half hour, to see if it makes Ben sick. If not. Let him eat the whole bowl. Don’t give him any more tonight. If he’s not sick, tonight, he can have three of these big serving bowls, tomorrow. It’s not too much. Ben’s almost the size of a Wookie, so he eats like one. If his stomach is still alright, tomorrow, then he had have some bread, too. And don’t give him anything to drink but blue milk. If his stomach gets upset, crack one of these purple capsules into some blue milk, and get him to drink it. Make some more of the stew after this pot runs out. After a week, Ben should be able to eat normally. Don’t expect him to gain weight all at once. And don’t overfeed him. The bacta and vitamins should make him well in about a week. But it might take a couple of months before he gains his weight back.”

“REY! WHERE THE HELL IS MY FOOD! MEAT! DYING!” Ben roared.

“Is that a good sign?” Rey asked.

“I think so.  Don’t tell Ben I was here. We’re still not on speaking terms.  I’ll come back to check on him, another day. Oh, and one more thing. As soon as he feels better, he’s going to want to make up for the time you two were apart. That’s not going to happen for him, with his body in the state it’s in. Tell him to be patient. When he’s healed and gained some weight? I’m sure everything will straighten right out.”

“I wish Ben had a Jedi healer to stay with him, tonight.”

“He has one. You are a Jedi. And you have healed him, before. But be careful, Rey. Ben’s life force is at a low ebb, and he’s very sick. You can try to ease his pain, but don’t try to heal him, entirely. It would drain too much life out of you.”

Master Luke got up.

“This is the no fun part, Rey. Ben needs you, now.”

“I don’t mind at all, Master Luke. Ben is alive. I still feel better than I have for a long time. I have hope.”

“That’s good, Rey.”

Luke stood up, as if to go

“Uncle Luke? I know you’re there. I feel your presence.” Ben called out

They both froze.

“I’m sick, Uncle Luke. Are you a Force Ghost, or are you the Jedi Healer that Grandfather was going to get to come here and help me?”

“I’m the old hermit down the road, Ben. Do you want me to come to your room? I know we didn’t part on good terms. But Rey’s nervous about being alone with you, tonight.”

“Would you mind staying with me, Uncle Luke? Everybody else is dead.”

“I don’t mind at all, Ben. I’ll stay here as long as you want me to. I remember where my room is.”

 ***

As Master Luke had suspected, Ben wanted to gobble the food.

His instinct to live and his hunger had overwhelmed his will to destroy himself.

“No, Ben.” Master Luke said.

More patiently than Rey would have, as he moved the bowl away.

Ben tried to grab at it.

“No means no. Don’t get grabby with me.”

“But I’m hungry!”

“You can’t gobble the food up, Ben. You’ll be sick, and that might kill you!” Rey told Ben.

It was a very long half hour.

Ben kept trying to get the bowl, and Master Luke gave it to her and she had to move away from the bed.

He cried.

“Don’t cry, Ben. If you feel alright, you can have the whole bowl, soon. And another glass of blue milk.” Rey assured him.

“I’m hungry! I’m fucking hungry, and I’m  too weak to get out of bed and take it! Where’s my mother, Uncle Luke? Why won’t she talk to me?” he sobbed.

“Your mother is...always with you, Ben. And you’ll get better. Rey and  I will make sure.”

The half-hour passed and Luke gave Ben the whole bowl of food, and a glass of blue milk.

“Eat slowly, kid. You start gobbling, and I’ll take the bowl away.”

As he ate, slowly, for once, Ben told them what he had done for the past year.

“Why?” Rey asked.

“Rey! Don’t ask why. Ben is suffering. He doesn’t need a reason.” Luke told her.

“I have one. I was asleep in a bunkhouse, with a bunch of other men on this freighter. And I realized that killing Snoke, and his troopers, and all his toadying fucking followers I killed on my way to slaughter the Emperor didn’t make up for killing my father. Sure, Snoke influenced me. Told me to do it. But I had a choice. And I chose to kill him. I killed my father. Whenever anyone would say that to me, that killed my father? I would just think, no, Snoke made me do it. But I did it. I did. I killed my father. I loved him more than anybody in the world, even though he was kind of a shitty father, and sometimes I hated him for it. And I killed him. In such a way that he doesn’t even have a grave. When I realized all of that? It broke my mind.”

Ben snapped the wooden spoon in half.

“Just like that.”

He handed Rey the bowl and the empty glass.

Luke took the spoon, and put both halves in his hand, and closed his palm.

When he opened it, the spoon wasn’t broken.

“Your mind will heal, Ben. Just like this And before this year is out? You will see Han and Leia again. I don’t know how. But I know you will.”

“I did see Dad. He forgave me. I just can’t forgive me.”

“Ben, you saved me. You saved the Galaxy. Without you I could never have defeated the Emperor. You’re a hero. Han is proud of you. So is Master Leia. Stop torturing yourself.” Rey begged.

“Ben, you said it was time to let old things go.You’re not taking your own advice.  This is how the Sith broke you. You don’t have to break yourself. You’re free. You won.” Luke told him.

“I’m tired. I think I need to go to sleep. I had better try to get to the bathroom, first. Rey already has to take care of me like I’m a baby. I don’t want to piss the bed like one.”

Ben managed to totter into the bathroom.

Rey wanted to hover over him, but she knew he was humiliated that she was seeing him like this, at all.

She waited.

He made his way slowly back to the bed and lay down.

“I’m going to go, now Ben.To my old room.  I’ll be back when you wake up  to see how you are.” Luke told him.

He put his hand on Ben’s forehead.

“Sleep, now. And have good dreams.”

Ben fell asleep.

Rey walked back to the door with her Master.

“Will he die in his sleep, Master Luke?”

“No. Sleep will heal him. We’ll let him sleep as long as he wants to. I think I’ll go say hello to my droids. Let them know that they’ll be coming with me, when I go home. I could use the company. And you have Ben, now.”

“They’re your droids, Master Luke.”

Master Luke opened the door and walked out into the courtyard, and beyond.

She watched him, retreating into the setting suns, heading for the old shed.

He wanted to help Ben, but also?

He was glad to be home, in spite of himself.

Rey understood.

***

She went back to the bedroom.

Rey got undressed and got into bed with Ben.

She pulled up all the covers, so he would be warm.

He woke up, for a moment.

“I haven’t slept in a bed since I left that freighter. And I haven’t slept in my bed, here, for what seems like an age. I think I might sleep for a long time.”

“As long as you need to, Ben. I’ll be here.”

Rey stayed awake until he was asleep, and for a hour afterward, making sure he was just asleep.

But then she fell asleep, too.

 ***

Ben slept all through the way through another day, until the morning after that day.

Rey kept checking on him, and so did Master Luke,  but he moved around in his sleep, and he snored, and once he got up and drank some water, so she knew he was just sleeping.

That morning he walked stiffly into the kitchen, dressed in a baggy cream tunic and brown trousers.

He had a cloth belt wrapped many times around the waist so that the clothes, although they were the right lengths for him, didn’t fall off him.

“Ben, those are my father’s clothes.”

“I know. They were still here, when I came here. I wear them, all the time. The desert preserves things.”

He had bathed, and dressed but he hadn’t shaved.

“I’m growing a goatee. To distinguish Ben Solo from Kylo Ren.”

“Everyone knows that Ben Solo killed Kylo Ren. Nobody’s going to come after you, Ben. You’re a free man. You earned it.” Master Luke told him.

There was a weird sense of calm, and dignity about Ben that she’d never seen in him, before.

He thanked her politely when she gave him the serving bowl of stew with the serving spoon.

Rey had gone out and bought the most fine, expensive loaf of rich, black, seeded bread that she could find, and put it on the table.

Ben snatched up the heel, and turned it over in his hands, and then he put it under his nose and sniffed it.

“I don’t remember the last time I had bread that wasn’t stale. Or mouldy.”

He ate the slice of bread, slowly.

Rey wanted to cry.

There were tears in Master Luke’s eyes.

But she didn’t want Ben to become hysterical.

So she carried on eating her cereal and blue milk.

“Have another piece. With your stew.” She encouraged him.

“Chewie used to make this for me. When I was a kid, and I’d get sick. It’s a Wookie recipe.”

“I know. He taught me how to make it.” Master Luke told Ben.

After he ate, Ben got up and walked out onto the hot sand, barefoot.

Rey supposed he was used to it, by now.

But he came back.

“I have to get used to boots again. I still have mine.”

 ***

Ben didn’t like to stay inside, too long.

He got restless.

And when he slept at night, it was like he was dead.

After a week, Luke was right, he was much better and he had gained some weight.

Before Master Luke went home, he brought Obi-Wan, to talk to Ben while Luke was giving him a final once-over.

Their Master returned and brought Obi-Wan with him.

He spoke with Ben while Luke was examining him.

“Were you seeking a vision, Ben? Or were you trying to be a vision?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I was trying to be a vision. I wanted to spread the word about the New Path. And the Force United. And to warn people not to go back to the old ways. I wanted to use my body to show them. So I made all the old wounds and scars reappear.”

“You’re on the right path, Ben. But you must not use suffering to make your point. Yours or that of others.” Obi-Wan told him.

Ben nodded.

Master Luke pronounced him much better.

He took Artoo and Threepio and went home.

After that, Rey and Ben were on their own.

Ben quickly started getting his body to do what he wanted, again.

He took long walks in the desert.

After two weeks, he was running, in nothing but a pair of shorts, running over the burning sand, barefoot and mostly naked.

But he stopped being antsy when he was in the house.

***

Rey had to go buy some food, and Ben wanted to drive her speeder to Anchorhead.

When they got to the store where she bought the bread, and the old baker saw Ben, he came out from behind the counter.

“I can’t believe it! Young man, what’s your name”

“Ben Skywalker.”

“Was your grandaddy Anakin Skywalker? Son of Shmi Skywalker and Kylo Skywalker, who died a warrior on Arkanis, and that started all the trouble his family got into?”

“That’s me.”

“I knew your granddaddy, then. We were both slaves, here. The Jedi took him away to become one of them. But he wanted to be a pilot. Me, I got sold to a baker. Now I’m a free man and this is my shop. But Ani used to come here to visit his mother. You look so much like him. Is he still living?”

“No. But he became a pilot. And a Jedi. He died a Jedi, at the end of Clone Wars and became one with the Force.”

“I suppose that’s what he wanted. But it still makes me glad I became a baker. Did you go to that Jedi Temple? Out on Yavin-4?”

“I did. But it wasn’t for me. Too may rules. So I left, and stuck with what I love. The stars.”

“So, you’re a starpilot too? Good for you, son. Ani would have liked that.”

“I’m sure he does.”

***

Time passed them by.

Ben continued to fight his way back from the brink of death.

He fought so hard, and regained his physique and his strength so quickly that Rey began to suspect he was healing himself, using the Force

Ben had always been strong in the Force, but he had become both more accomplished and more powerful than before. There was a new light in Ben's dark, ancient eyes, and a new kind of power animated him.

The Force was with Ben, but in a form Rey had never encountered.

But, neither she nor Ben were thinking on that, or the New Path of the Force United that they were, arguably supposed to be making a way for.

No, the weightiest problem at the Skywalker farm was much less cosmic.

Most people did not know that Rey and Kylo Ren had been star-crossed lovers.

And no one knew that it wasn’t just one last kiss that Ben Solo bestowed upon Rey before he died.

That was the elephant in the bedroom.

“Rey?’

She was asleep.

“What, Ben? Have you been awake all night?”

“I can’t sleep. What if I killed it?”

“Killed what?”

“My cock.”

“I’m sure you’d be fine with another woman.”

Ben hadn’t heard that.

“How could I just let it go, like that? Fuck, I haven’t even jerked off for six months! I don’t even remember the last time I got hard. I killed it. I lost my mind, destroyed my body, and killed my cock. And I’m ugly again, and I disgust you.”

“Ben, you are not ugly. You have never been ugly. That’s all in your mind. Go to sleep.”

“Then why are you so cold, all the sudden?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. You were like a human skeleton.”

“I’m fine, now.”

“Go to sleep, Ben.”

Ben swore.

He got out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

He jerked the bathroom door open, angrily so that the knob smacked into the hole it had already made in the wall. 

“Fuck it! I'm going to go into the bathroom and try to get it up for somebody I know who cares about how upset I am, and wants to try to make me a man, again! Me!”

But then?

He had a better idea.

And he got back into bed with Rey.

“Wait! I know what this is about. You think the last time we fucked, it killed me. That you killed me. Now, you're afraid if you touch me again, I’ll just die. Right?”

“Ben, I…you did die.”

“I was going to die anyway. I figured I might as well die hard.”

Rey couldn’t help laughing.

A little.

“Besides, how many times have you tried to kill me? As many times as I told you I was going to fuck you whether you liked it, or not. Funny how it always seems to turn me on when you try to kill me. And when I act like I’m going to fuck you whether you like it or not? You always like it. The first fight we ever had? I wish I knew that you almost cutting my face off with a lightsaber was foreplay. If I had? Instead of offering to show you the ways of the force, I would have told you that if you came with me, I was going to tie you to a table, again, and slide my tongue up your sweet Rebel cunt.”

In several years of very dirty talk, and horrible arguments and insults, that was both the dirtiest and the most horribly insulting thing Ben ever said to her.

She slapped him in the face, and he laughed.

“Don’t you dare, Ben Solo!”

“What? Don’t try that high and mighty shit on me. I’m the guy who fucks you. I know what you like. And you know, you never asked me what truths I brought back from the other side.”

He pulled the covers off the bed, and grabbed Rey by the ankles and pushed her legs open.

“Never gave a minute's thought to the Force United. Or the new path. But I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. I’m not gonna ask you if you want me to teach it to you. Because I know what you want from me.”

Ben put Rey’s legs around his shoulders.

“I’m just going to slide my tongue up your sweet Rebel cunt. I know you like that.”

If Ben's intent was to inflame them both?

It worked.

He rose to the occasion, and Rey felt anything but cold.

She was still in the throes of the orgasm he gave her as he was sitting up at the bottom of the bed, saying:

“Hard as beaker fucking steel. It worked!”

Yes.

It had.

“Ben, you horrible bastard, I’ve wanted you so much for so long!” she told him.

“Yeah. I know.” he told her.

***

All around the Skywalker farm you could hear the sound of a woman, screaming

And a man’s savage, guttural voice.

“Do you feel it now? Do you feel the raw power of the Dark Side?”

The woman’s screams grew louder and the man uttered a deep, dark, Satanic laugh.

He pinned her to the bed with his big, powerful body, and she locked her arms and legs around him screaming every time he thrust into her.

Faster.

Deeper.

Harder.

“Can you feel my power? The power of the Force United? Is this the way you want to get fucked, little scavenger? Fast and dirty and hard?”

More screams ripped from the woman’s throat.

“Yes! Yes! I feel your power. Your power! More!” the woman sobbed.

“My power? Who’s power? Say it! Fucking say it!” the man ordered, snarling through gritted teeth.

“Ben Solo! Oh, gods, gods, Ben fucking Solo!”

The woman screamed for joy, the man gave voice to another guttural laugh, and it resolved into a roar like the sound an angry Wookie makes before he tears your arms out and beats you to death with them.

Then, it was quiet, again.

***

Rather prudishly, Rey pulled the covers up to her neck.

In contrast, Ben lay on top of them, naked, his arms behind his head, his eyes closed, a happy,  untroubled smile on his face.

“That was worth fucking waiting. You are one hot little piece of ass, Little Rebel Girl. You had better come out from under those covers. I’m not done with you.”

“Can’t I go back to sleep, now?”

“Why?’

“Ben, you don’t understand. You were born without shame. I’m embarrassed. People don’t…I…I mean, I enjoy making love as much as, well, any woman, but…you have no idea what I am on about, do you?”

He turned on the light.

“Rey, I understand your ‘Who? Poor little me?’ act is what’s kept you alive through all these years, and it keeps people out of your hair. But don’t play it on me. I know better. I’m also the guy who fights with you. At your side and as your opponent, remember? So you can mince around Tattoine, acting like you are the little scavenger, a little war widow, just getting by, spending her life in elegiac genteel exile. Living with the memory of her lost love. But we both know it’s bantha shit.”

“Oh, really? And how would you know, Ben?”

“Rey, you slapped my face in a room full of smoking corpses and pools of blood and told me to quit fucking talking and kiss you. Then you wanted me to fuck you, on Snoke’s throne. You hardly gave me time to get rid of the mess and drape the curtains over the throne!  I mean, there I was, on my knees, with one foot resting on a dead man, and you’re pulling my hair and calling me a Sith bastard and telling me you’re going to come in my mouth, so I had better lick it up. Then, when I got up? You would have thought I poured honey all over my cock the way you went after it. You broke the zipper on my pants, getting it out. I had to hold your nose so you’d open your mouth so I could pull my cock out, because I thought if I came in your mouth before I fucked you, you’d cut me in half. I mean, I could hardly believe my luck.  I felt like the luckiest man in the Galaxy. Who knew you were the kind of girl who loved to give head and liked it doggie style on the throne of the Supreme Leader? I thought I might have been in love with you before that day. After? I was done. You had me. For the first time in my life, I was crazy in love.”

Rey bit her lip, to keep in a laugh, a scream of outrage, or both.

“I was carried away in the moment.” she sniffed

“This went on for longer than a moment. Hell, the first time I told you I could take what I wanted, you looked at me like, oh, Daddy, let’s fight first, and I might kill you later, but take me now, I’m all yours.”

“So what if I was immediately attracted to you? A lot of women have been!”

“Not when they were strapped to a table, killer. Rey, I was your enemy. I was the bad guy you were fighting against. I gave the orders that almost wiped out the whole Rebel fleet! And even after that, you came here to meet me every chance you got! And we never talked, here.  We talked when we were light-years away from each other. When we were together all we did was fuck. I was the Supreme Leader, I could do what I wanted. Go where I wanted. Nobody questioned me. I killed three generals who asked me what my business was with the Rebel girl. Those bloodless Imperial fucks stopped asking me stupid questions about my Little Rebel Girl after that. You were training to be a Jedi. You were the big hero of the Resistance. And you risked all that to come to Tattoine and fuck me out in the desert. When you had two guys, right there, who would have dragged their balls over hot coals just to get a shot at you. How long did the moment last? Two or three years? That’s a long karking moment, isn’t it?”

“It’s because I love you, Ben.”

“I love you too, Rey. But you are not a poor, meek, winsome little scavenger. You are a hot-blooded Force warrior. A two-tone, blood-glutted, cock-hungry hellcat who likes fast ships, bad men, high adventure, a damn good fight, and a real hot fuck. Be who you are, Rebel Girl. Some other guys might get turned off by that, but I’m Kylo Ren, remember? I love it when you’re bad. Hell, I killed myself at Exegol, satisfying our mutual battle lust. But I figured, what a way to go!”

“That’s why I was never going to touch another man, ever again. I killed you, Ben.”

“I came, and then I went.”

Ben laughed.

“It’s not funny! You gave me life and I took it back from you!”

“You didn’t kill me, Rey. Sheev Palpatine killed me. I knew I was going to die in that cave. I knew it before I brought you back. But I thought, hell, if I have to die, I might as well do it after a great victory in battle and a great fuck with the Valkryie I love. My Little Rebel Girl. And it’s not going to happen again, because I am now the most powerful Force sensitive being in the galaxy. Well, next to you. So do me a favor, and drop the act. It turns me off, and you’re insulting yourself.”

“Ben Solo, you are such a bad man!”

“Through and through. Did you think Kylo was the bad guy and Ben was the good guy? The best you can say about me is that I’m the good bad guy. Rey, my father was a ruthless pirate.  My grandfather was Darth Vader. I’m bad right down to my bones.”

“You wont tell anyone else about me, will you, Ben?”

“They already know. They’re just too terrified to argue with you. Damn, I have to piss.”

He got up and went to the bathroom.

Rey shifted around a little.

Thinking about what he had said.

Ben came back to bed.

He got under the covers, kissed her, and rolled over on his back and shut out the light.

Rey was a little disappointed, until Ben hauled her on top of him.

“OK, Rebel Girl! Your turn to be on top!”

***

The one thing that people all the way to Anchorhead would tell you about Ben Skywalker was that he had to be related to Ani Skywalker, because he looked just like him.

His hair and beard were black, and hsi etse were dark, but other than that, he was Ani all over again.

He wore the same kind of desert pilot’s clothes; in fact, Ben and his wife were poor; he might have been wearing Anakin’s clothes that he found at the old Skywalker moisture farm.

Young Skywalker and his wife, who was a nameless scavenger from Jakku before he gave her his had come right from the wars.

Ben had lived out on the old place for years, but during the wars, he was always coming and going. 

When he came to the cantina in the village without his wife?

Once he had a few pitchers of beer, he'd show you all his scars.

Take his pants down and everything, and the foolish boy didn’t wear underwear.

He had moods, but those scars meant he came by those moods, honestly.

He said he was a pilot, but all he seemed to be doing was getting his old wreck of a ship fixed up.

You might see him, running through the desert, barefoot, bareheaded, and slathered with sun protection, wearing only a pair of regulation Imperial exercise undershorts.

When he got to the village, he’d stop by the cantina for lunch.

“Training. I eat too much, and I drink too much, so I have to train like a goddamn Sith just to keep from turning into a big day tub of guts. That, and the Little Rebel Girl I married? She’s horny as an Askajian whore with a Twi'lek mother. She was a real killer, in the wars. If I ever quit banging her two, three times a day? She’d burn down the planet. But she keeps me in shape. Best exercise there is. Doing push-ups with girls. Before I met Rey? Hell, I had two or three women a week, just to keep me happy. Hell of a woman, my Little Rebel Girl. Better run home before she thinks I’ve got a girl on the side.”

Then he’d drink another pitcher of blue milk, finish his four sandwiches, and run home.

But what Ben was most famous for in the village was fighting a full grown Wookiee, and winning.

He made a lot of money doing it, too.

Ben Skywalker was the local character before the war was over, but taht wa sto be expected.

He was a Skywalker, after all; they were all characters.

In short?

Nobody suspected a damn thing.

***

After having lived by her wits from the time she was 14, and then becoming a Jedi, a warrior and the savior of the Galaxy?

The last thing Rey thought would make her happy was being a wife and keeping a house.

But somehow, just now?

It did.

At first Ben's moods were a problem, but when she discovered there were four of them, it became manageable.

Brooding Mystic, Wild Man, Happy-Go-Lucky Pirate, and Sexual Death Star.

Sometimes all in the same day.

And she had to admit, the fact that Sexual Death Star was a regular daily mood made it easier.

Ben naturally had a lot of stamina, and he was well endowed, but Rey always thought he had made sure to become a good lover to make it up to a woman for his moodiness.

But Ben knew himself, he had stocked his home with all wooden plates, bowls, and cups, and a stoneware pitcher that she he said he had thrown at a stone wall before buying.

So he got mad, sometimes and threw things and yelled?

It didn’t bother her.

Ben was always hungry, so he was always cooking, and there was always enough to eat.

They stayed in bed for days, sometimes, making love, and being goofy and just being together.

And she had not just a room, but a whole farm.

She and Ben had cleaned it up, and fixed everything, and even the old rusting farm machinery looked like art.

Ben worked on the Falcon, his ship now and there was a lot of work to do, because Rey had let it sit for a year.

Ben talked about getting in touch with “Uncle Chewie” he was thinking about getting back to work, with Rey as his scavenger.

He had a scheme in his heart, and that was a good sign.

But neither of them were ready to leave.

They went to the market in the old speeder, and brought fresh bread, and sometimes, when the moon was bright they had lightsaber duels out in the desert, and then they’d make love like lions, under the stars.

The stars that still belonged to them.

It was a beautiful little life, with just the two of them, but one day, the west wind from out behind Tattoine’s twin suns blew Chewbacca in to Mos Eisley, and there was a radio message from him.

He was coming out to the Skywalker Farm, and when he got there, they should be on the Falcon and ready to go.

Rey knew, then that everything was about to change.