#Life as a Junk Merchant

[finalcomics]

Took me all day but I finished a nice picture of Lan.

You can read about what shes in here!

https://tapas.io/episode/1754915

[forgivenfolly]

me like three days ago: prem probably wouldn't get much out of this expac it's a good thing i didn't choose to play it as him

the expac:

[fuckitfireeverything]

had a session zero for my first in person ttrpg campaign since the pandemic began today and I could not be HAPPIER

[lakefu]

A Perfect Warmth 🕯️

Summary: Astarion and Tav take a well deserved break away form the chaos of their adventures at an inn inside Baldur's Gate. They need to clean up and get back on the road but they keep getting distracted. Perhaps plans could be delayed for a night of passion...

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Tags: 18+, Explicit, fluffy smut, brief Astarion trauma response, PIV, erogenous elf ears, scent kink, blood + biting, a bit of praise, a bit of edging... a sprinkle of cockwarming...., these guys are in love...

Word count: 3.5k Note: This was my first fic originally uploaded on Ao3 on 11/27/23, inspired by the patch #4 dev note mentioning adding sponges to clean your companions. I've made edits from the Ao3 post.

“Remind me to sell this junk next time we pass by a merchant, would you dear?” Astarion was seated at the edge of the bed and rummaging through his traveler’s pack, placing various items on the nightstand for further examination. Two silver forks, an old necklace, and a handful of various polished stones ended up on the table before he plucked out an intricate sapphire ring and held it up to the sunlight peeking through the window.

“Good taste,” he muttered to himself. He placed the ring on his pinky finger in amusement and resumed the scavenge. 

“It’s going to get difficult sneaking up on people if I have to lug this heavy thing around you know.” He threw over a glance at Tav, who was preoccupied with gathering laundry together in preparation for the next day.

“It wouldn’t be so heavy if you didn’t pocket nearly every shiny thing we came across,” she teased, without even looking over at him.

He gasped dramatically. “Framed by my own lover? Quite the scandal. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the near dozen times you’ve asked me to hold onto your things because your own pack was too full.”

“Hmm. Maybe. I guess that might sound sort of familiar…” She giggled to herself and walked into the bedroom to catch his eye, meeting him with a mischievous grin. 

“Why are you such a- oh! Now, what’s this you’re wearing?” Astarion blinked and scanned her up and down, clearly enthralled by the wardrobe change. She stood there in an old linen robe that was yellowed with age, definitely unlike anything he had ever seen her in before.

“Just some old thing I found in the dresser here, isn’t it just fabulous?” Tav's words were dripping in sarcasm and yet she smiled, performing a grandiose little spin in the middle of the room as if she was wearing the most beautiful ball gown in the world.

“I… it’s just so different from your usual armor or that drow nightwear you fancy so much. You look so… domestic.” His eyes were locked onto Tav intensely, with brow furrowed as he seemed to be confused by his own words.

She felt her heart skip a beat and a flush run to her face.

“And you think that’s a good look for me?”

His eyes softened and he paused a moment before quietly answering.

“Yes… I do.”

Tav watched as his smile faded and the gaze of his eyes became increasingly more distant. The atmosphere seemed to shift and a slight panic ran through her body. Did she do something wrong? No... and it didn’t require a tadpole connection to get an understanding for what had brought down his spirits.

Astarion hadn’t considered a comfortable domestic life was possible for someone like him. Even the slightest concept of such a thing had been buried for over a hundred years, and he never expected it to resurface. Was he worthy of such a thing, and was it even possible? 

Oh, it was possible. The evidence was standing right in front of him, spinning circles in an ugly bathrobe. He could see glimpses of a happy future that was so close to being a reality he nearly felt nauseous. Not because he was unsure of himself, but because there were still too many unresolved matters they had a duty to attend to. Too many missions and stupid little quests that could now go wrong and threaten this idea of a happy ending he never even knew was possible.

Everything was different now that he realized what was possible, and he suddenly felt an unknown and uncomfortable pressure. All he knew was that he couldn’t afford to lose in the upcoming battles. Battles that some would say were impossible, suicidal even. The thought of loss at this point was beyond unbearable. It was sickening just to think about.

“Hey!!” Tav ran up to where he was sitting on the bed and took his head in her hands. She placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, knowing she had to get him focused on something else.

“Why don’t we go to the shop right now and get rid of that stuff,” she motioned to the collection of items that had been gathered on the nightstand.

“Wouldn’t hurt to get some more coin in our pockets, right?” She looked at him expectantly and felt a huge relief as a light seemed to return to his eye and meet her view.

“Please tell me you aren’t going to wear that horrid robe to see the merchant,” he sighed and looked up at her pleadingly.

“Of course not!! I’ll change and- oh gods!!! We’ve got to get this blood off your face, the merchant is going to think we are trying to kill him!” Tav exclaimed as she lightly shook his shoulders, and quickly began examining his body to see how much cleaning would have to get done before they could leave.

“Blood… on my face?” He raised an eyebrow and brought a finger to his cheek.

“Yeah!! Well, it’s all over you really, dontcha remember earlier today, fighting those cultists?? You sneaked up behind one of ‘em and BAM!!! Just obliterated with a single strike, it was amazing!! You’re so strong…you know.” Her pulse was racing at the mere memory of the event as she delicately traced the side of his face with her fingers and ventured down to his chest. 

“Ah of course. That was all so terribly easy I’d nearly forgotten,” he said proudly, adjusting his posture and keeping his eyes on Tav’s hand movements sliding across his chest. Her soft touch was becoming more firm as her fingers made their way toward his arms, giving his biceps a teasing squeeze before leaning her face into his and teasing a kiss.

Before their lips could touch, Astarion wags a finger in between their faces as if to remind Tav of the task at hand.

“Alright my sweet, let’s clean up shall we? You’re my mirror after all. So, go on then.” He took her hands into his own and gave them a kiss before placing them back at her side, encouraging her to go and gather whatever it was she needed to get him cleaned up.

Right, the supplies. It was nearly impossible to remain focused after moments of intimacy with him, no matter how brief they were. She quickly moved into the other room to acquire the washcloths and bucket of soapy water that she was using for herself not too long ago. Hands full, she scurried back to the bedroom to meet her lover, who hadn’t moved an inch.

As she approached him, Tav could feel the tie on her robe becoming increasingly more loose with each step that was taken across the floor. The embarrassment hit her as she realized she didn't have any hands free to do anything about it. She quickly tried to put the bucket down by the bedside, but the bending movement only resulted in the robe slipping off one of her shoulders, exposing a bare breast.

“Oh? You haven’t got anything on underneath?” Astarion cocked his head in amusement, eyes unmoving from the newly exposed skin.

“Ye-yeah that’s the whole point of robes isn’t it? I was doing laundry earlier ya know and umm,” She laughed nervously and started to fix the wardrobe malfunction but was quickly stopped by a hand over her own. Astarion reached out toward her until both hands were around her waist and pulled her in close to his body. Fangs were peeking through his devious smile while determined eyes looked her up and down. With a singular finger he crept over to the loose knot of the robe’s tie and flicked it completely undone with one swift movement.

Tav shuddered and felt her body starting to run warm despite now being suddenly exposed to the cool air of the inn. She was completely revealed to him now, the robe only just clinging to her arms and draped across her backside.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he sighed and began kissing her stomach and caressing the curves of her waist. “Come here.”

Tav gasped as she felt his cold grip around her waist tighten as he expertly lifted her up onto his lap with ease. Pleased at the new angle, Astarion shifted his attention to kissing the crook of her neck and started moving down her chest. He delightfully found her nipple with his mouth in no time, and teased it in circles with his tongue just as he knew she liked it. His gentle sucking continued for only a few brief moments before he suddenly withdrew and cleared his throat.

“Ah, well. You can reach my face better up here I’m sure. For the cleaning of course,” he said smugly. The elf leaned back and admired the view of his lover, nude and flustered, perched oh-so perfectly on top of him.

“The cleaning…” Tav nodded and remembered she still had a warm and soapy washcloth in her hand. The urge to throw the stupid cloth into some unknown corner of the room was nearly undeniable. All she wanted in this moment was for him to take her completely, in any way he wanted, it didn’t matter as long as she ended up getting fucked into oblivion. So fine. On with the cleaning.

She raised the washcloth to his temple and slowly began to wipe away the dried blood by working down his face. His cheeks were a bit sunken as usual but flushed adorably in this moment, clearly enjoying the tender rubs of cloth on his skin. She continued rubbing down toward his chiseled jawline, across to his lips, and back up the other side to repeat the process once more. She ran her fingers through his silver curls and noticed his ears would need cleaning too. 

One hand caressed the pointy ear to keep it in place and the other brought the washcloth in for a gentle scrub. A quiet moan suddenly escaped the vampire’s lips.

Oh? She had seemingly discovered a sensitive spot and noted that she would have to continue her work carefully. The scrubbing continued but Tav couldn’t keep her eyes off his face now. His eyes were closed but still noticeably moving behind their lids, and his lips were slightly parted with his breathing becoming increasingly heavier and more noticeable. 

Astarion was in his own world of pleasure. What in the hells had he been doing these past weeks, aimlessly scrubbing himself clean alone in the river when they could have been doing this the whole time instead?

He opened his eyes just to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. She was still there of course, diligently and lovingly taking such good care of his body. A wave of maddening lust rushed through his core and he needed her closer. He needed her as close as physically possible and even more so after that.

Their eyes met, revealing intense desires. Tav lowered her hands and she spoke slowly, “Can you take your shirt off? There’s a spot I can’t get to with it on…” 

She wasn’t fooling anybody, but he obeyed without hesitation. The shirt was gone in seconds, revealing his pale and perfectly sculpted chest. It was a sight that Tav never tired of admiring, and was in fact the subject of distracting daydreams on the daily. She shifted her body closer to his and continued scrubbing his neck and chest, despite it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus. Deep breaths.

She had always been fond of his cologne that he was quite proud of concocting himself. The scent of aged brandy, bergamot, and rosemary was now forever an Astarion specialty that she could never forget. Even during times of battle or travel, a gust of wind could carry his essence to her and bring along with it a sense of reassuring familiarity. As she continued to wipe him down, however, a different scent began to come to the forefront.

It was something that did not seem completely foreign, but it wasn't immediately identifiable either. There was something about taking it all in that felt forbidden. Tav tried to pinpoint what she was experiencing. He smelled earthy… raw… unnatural… it was without a doubt, the undeath.

An undeniable heat rose through her body as she engulfed herself with this pure scent from her lover. The washcloth, the bed, the entire room seemed miles away, and nothing felt coherent except for a craving to be even closer to him. Nothing else existed except their bodies and her overwhelming desire to-

“Eager, are we?” A sultry voice snapped her back into reality, where piercing red eyes amusingly greeted her return. She suddenly became aware of a presence between her thighs and glanced down, realizing she was sitting atop a clothed bulge. His hands had a firm grip on her backside and his encouraging movements made it clear she had been absentmindedly grinding on him during her trance. 

“Shit, I got carried away…” She hadn’t taken her eyes off his crotch and began to notice that her excitement had left a dampness on his clothes. Embarrassment nearly overtook her, but a gentle yet confident hand grabbed her chin and brought it up to meet his gaze. He leaned into her with a grinning open mouth and kissed her passionately, tongues intertwining.

She felt his fangs briefly scrape against her tongue every so often until a metallic taste became increasingly noticeable. She didn't mind the blood, especially since it seemed to enhance his arousal as noted by his hips continuously jolting faster up into her exposed crotch. Tav was soon pleasantly overwhelmed between his deep kisses and desperate hands groping her at every curve of her body. She longed to give him everything; her blood for his hunger, her body for his pleasure. 

Tav released herself from the kiss they had been locked into and tilted her head so that her neck became exposed as an undeniable gift. His mouth lunged at the presented spot as soon as it was noticed, fangs immediately sinking in deep. Tav cried out at the initial impact but soon was reveling in the experience. It was a perfect mixture of pain and pleasure that she was only capable of experiencing from him.

He remained on her neck for a while, still tightly holding on to her body and keeping one hand free to reassuringly caress the back of her head. It was only after the blood flow slowed to a near stop did he cease his medley of licking and sucking at the wound. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his exposed chest, but he was ultimately unfazed. He leaned back, clearly happy and mostly satisfied, but there was still a different type of satisfaction he had left to chase.

Astarion's throbbing erection was begging to be released from its clothed restraints. He quickly untied his pants and shifted his underwear to finally free it. He moaned a few incomprehensible words of relief and stroked himself a few times before looking up at Tav for approval.

Tav had been staring at his length from the moment it was exposed, an impressive size for an elf, no doubt. Her eyes fixated on his perfectly pink tip, glistening with precum just for her. She immediately fantasized of shoving him down her throat until she choked and cried, but that was a fantasy for another day. In their current position, they both knew there was only one simple way of how to continue.

“Astarion,” she whimpered. “Fuck me.”

Tav sat up on her knees and positioned herself so that her entrance was just nearly grazing the head of his dick, ready to take him in completely at any moment. She grabbed ahold of his shaft and guided the tip back and forth through her folds until he was covered in her slick. The new sensation of the friction between them left them both gasping and desperate for more.

Suddenly, finally, his arms wrapped around her body as he pulled her down onto him with one firm motion. Astarion grunted through his teeth while Tav moaned unapologetically, focusing on relaxing enough to allow her body to adjust to his length inside of her. 

The temperature differences between their bodies only heightened the feelings of pleasure whenever they became one. Her warmness was intoxicating to him, granting a sense of safety and bliss that was impossible to achieve anywhere else. He was already so close to the edge in this moment, but was not ready to give in just yet. He wanted this moment of heaven to last as long as possible.

Meanwhile, Tav was having the time of her life riding her man like there was no tomorrow. She had no intent to slow down until a pair of large hands suddenly gripped her hips in a way that prevented any further movement.

“I’m not done with you yet, love. Didn’t you notice the mess I’ve made after feasting on you?” Astarion took a finger to his chin and smeared a bit of Tav’s fresh blood down his neck.

It was true, he had made a mess. Quite uncharacteristically of him in fact. Tav had assumed he had simply gotten careless in his horny and feral craze but no- it was clearly all calculated. 

“Just be still and sit nice and pretty on my cock. Finish the cleaning, then I’ll take care of you myself. How does that sound?” 

How does that sound? His words echoed in her head, which was already spinning plenty enough as it was. She was unsure if it was from the blood loss or her seemingly never ending carnal desires, but perhaps it was both. One thing was certain, however, he could convince her to do damn near anything speaking in that low and lustful tone of his. Without uttering a word she slowly brought the washcloth up to his chest. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. He felt her body twitch around him in response to the praise, and he leaned back to relax and enjoy these final few moments of intimacy. 

It had taken everything in Tav's power to remain still while she worked. It wasn't exactly easy to focus- she was being split in half by a whimpering vampire beneath her after all. Astarion’s skilled fingers had been dancing around her swollen clit the whole time, just enough to keep her stimulated but never enough to let her come.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the blood was all cleaned up. She hadn't even realized when it happened or how he did it, but his pants were completely gone now. She reached over to place the cloth down and awaited her reward of sweet release.

Astarion’s hands moved to the knees that were straddling him and slowly pushed them farther apart, spreading Tav’s legs open bit by bit. She inhaled sharply as she took him in deeper. He opened her up more and more until she lost her balance and fell backwards onto his expectant embrace. 

“Relax darling, I’ve got you,” He purred in reassurance. 

Astarion took her entire weight in his arms with ease and laid her down amongst the soft pillows of the bed. He nestled himself comfortably between her legs, making sure their bodies were flush with one another. Nearly smothered by his body now, all Tav could do was claw at his back and arch her hips into his powerful thrusts. His mouth frantically traveled across her lips and neck with desperately wet kisses until he settled near her ear with a playful nibble.

“You’re so beautiful…” He whispered tenderly, while the rhythm of his lovemaking became increasingly sporadic. “So fucking perfect… Gods…just for me… I love you… so much...”

“Star, I- ah!” Her words cut short as she felt something snap within her. Pure ecstasy- she was falling and flying somewhere a million galaxies away and never wanted to come back. Obscene noises and curses filled the room as they rode out each other’s high in tight embrace. The smell of sex lingered in the air as their bodies heaved with labored breaths, finally collapsing on each other in exhaustion. 

They laid together a while longer, exchanging soft kisses and enjoying the short moment in time where nothing else in the world mattered. Eventually, Astarion rolled out of the bed and stood up to stretch. 

“Tsk, looks like it’s my turn to clean you up my dear,” He said with an accomplished grin, eying how her thighs were dripping with his sticky mess.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move an inch. Actually, I doubt you can move at all after that, ahaha!” He laughed and leaned over to brush aside a strand of Tav’s sweaty hair that was stuck to her forehead before walking over to the other room. 

“Shut up… dummy…” she smiled to herself and rolled over, feeling at ease enough that the weight of sleep was starting to overtake her.

“I love you too, Astarion.” Her eyes closed as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that her lover would soon come back to her side like he always did, and always would.

[nyanbinary-perineum]

They say being an adventurer is the most rewarding job out there.

"They get to see the world! They gather such riches! They claim ownership of such powerful relics!"

Bah, short sighted fools I say. And disrespectful more often than not.

I say the most rewarding job out there is being the person whom these over-excited "adventurers" get their equipment.

Being the expert who can tell them which relics are worth something, which might make a good weapon, or which are better off just being sold off to a merchant like me who can find a way to make use of them.

They are so accustomed to being worshiped by each towns-person that they don't even bother questioning your appraisals.

This makes getting interesting pieces for cheap a rather trivial matter~ Just tell them it's a junk item of sorts and that you can melt it down for scrap- they'll often shrug and accept any pitiful price.

Naive~

I found that it's surprisingly easy to "shift" the curses you find on these random dungeon baubles, both in what they "do" and what form they take.

It's also easy to convince a very talented, very underappreciated local smithy to join in on a fun little scheme and provide equipment to harbor this magic~

Before exploring these relics I had always assumed the rumors of cursed equipment that bound itself to the very soul of anyone mis-fortunate enough to make use of them to be just that- a rumor.

A fun little tavern tale to scare new adventurers off.

Luckily for me, that's not so.

You can do a great many things to a person who willingly encases themselves in your magic. You can change them. You can bend their flesh and mind. Erase memories, rewrite personalities. Create obedience.

Permanently.

Selling beautiful crafted, and powerfully enchanted, equipment is definitely the more rewarding job to have.

Selling pretty little lies to stupid little "heroes" and watching them wince once they put them on and the magic starts twisting around inside~

Knowing I will see them knocking on my door that night, smiling with joy and desperately clawing at their equipment as they attempt to strip for me, all the while thanking me for selling them a new life as my property~

We've made quite the little harem of dumb little sellswords who threw their lives away far before I gave them a new one they deserve.

Eyes as empty as their heads with no means of return~

This is what they were always worth- worshiping me in a far more pathetic manner than they ever experienced for themselves~

[rosanna-writer]

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (21/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~4.6k

ch. 1 - 10 | ch. 11-20 | ch. 21 - i wouldn't marry me either

Feyre gets her ring, and there's angst about it that literally no one asked for.

Some text in this chapter is taken directly from A Court of Mist and Fury.

Read on AO3 or you can find the twenty-first chapter below the readmore.

Well met, High Lady.

The words clanged through me.

But there was hardly time to consider them. The Weaver's dress rustled as she stood and prowled towards me. Though her features were so rotted and warped that they could hardly be called a face anymore, I still recognized a look of hunger—I'd seen it enough back in that cabin.

I suspected, however, that her appetite was far more gruesome than mine.

"I'm here to make a bargain," I said quickly.

She took another step closer, the motion oddly graceful—the Weaver carried herself more like a lady than I could ever manage. Perhaps, millennia ago, she'd been one.

"What could you possibly have to offer me?" she said in that voice that sounded so youthful, so clear and lovely.

"Lives," I said. "A few dozen, enough for several meals and bolts of cloth. There isn't much meat on my bones, but they'll have more."

"Not even a thread from your own life, little wolf?" The Weaver reached out a sickly-looking bone-white hand, running a gnarled, spindly finger down my ribs. I trembled. Her touch was feather-light, but it seemed to leech the heat from me all the same. "The one I see right here is quite beautiful."

The mating bond. Nothing was worth giving that away. I took a step back, all-too-aware that I was dangerously close to being cornered.

"That is not on offer."

The Weaver's laugh was bright and and musical. "Are you sure about that?Powerful magic makes for fine cloth. I'd pay a pretty penny for a golden thread like that."

The Weaver of the Wood might have been a death-god, but she sounded no different than the businessmen I'd overheard meeting with my father before his downfall. I was too much of a merchant's daughter to fall for it.

"I"m here to retrieve the ring that's rightfully mine as Lady of the Night Court. Nothing more." I seldom voiced my title aloud, and perhaps for the first time, saying it didn't make me feel like a girl playing dress-up with clothes far too big for her.

The dark lines of the Weaver's mouth widened into what might have been a grin. "And I was told by the last one not to make it easy on you."

Of course his mother did—Rhys could be maddening, and I supposed he must have gotten it from somewhere.

"If you accept my offer, there may be more than one mating bond in it for you. I don't know how many of them have a mate, but the rogue Illyrian war-bands are yours if you return my ring and allow me to leave this place unharmed."

I'd practiced the words in my head, careful to close a loophole, but it still came as a surprise that my voice didn't shake. The Weaver circled me, occasionally reaching out a bony hand to inspect the knives strapped to my waist and thighs. I let her look, even as I shivered—if they were something she wanted, she could have them, too.

"You will touch nothing in this cottage save the ring. Bring me half of your prisoners as a show of good faith, and you will have until I'm finished with them to find what's yours. Then deliver the rest immediately and leave me be."

I doubted she'd take very long doing…whatever she did to her victims. But I still didn't feel a pull towards a single object in any of the crowded shelves or piles of junk filling the cottage. There wouldn't be time for a thorough search.

And the bloodthirsty delight sparking in pits that should have been her eyes told me she knew it, too.

"What happens if I don't find the ring?" I said, letting my hand drift towards the handle of the knife at my hip.

"My terms have been more than generous, High Lady. Don't push me any further."

There it was again…that title. "Why did you call me that?" I should have focused on bargaining, but the words were out of my mouth before I could think them through.

"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."

More cryptic faerie bullshit, then. I flexed the fingers of my left hand self-consciously. A death-god could probably see through a glamour. Nothing more.

I squared my shoulders. "Fine. I accept the terms of your bargain."

The tang of magic filled the air as a small, curling tattoo formed just behind my ear. A crescent moon—its twin was now inked on the Weaver's forearm.

One tug on the bond, and Rhys delivered half of the rogue Illyrians to the cottage door.

I'd turned away just as the Weaver's mouth of stumped teeth went wide in anticipation. There were screams, sickly gurgles, wet noises as she ripped flesh into pieces, the crunch and crack of bones breaking.

Bones. Snapping, splintering bones, just like—

I forced myself to breathe, even as my heart raced and bile climbed up my throat. Borrowed time. I was on borrowed time, and there wouldn't be much of it.

I scanned the shelves, hoping to catch sight of a jewel glittering in the gloom. But all I saw was junk, even as I crouched and looked over the cluttered tables and overstuffed drawers…

Then I felt it.

A tug, a tap on the shoulder. A glimmer of something reaching for me, familiar as the whorls of night that had left me with my tattoo, laced with a constellation pointing the way. But even as it grasped me…there was something else.

The star-flecked power felt quintessentially Rhys, but…there was something of me in it, too. It was strange, like looking into a mirror and finding two sets of eyes—one violet and one blue-grey—staring back.

Take me home, it seemed to say. I've been away far too long.

Heedless of the horrible noises behind me, I barreled through the maze of tables and junk, letting the pulse guide the way. I stopped at the shelf on the wall next to the hearth. Close—it was close.

An old letter knife, books in leather that I did not want to touch or smell; a handful of acorns, a tarnished crown of ruby and jasper, and—

The ring.

It was made of twisted strands of gold and silver, flecked with pearl, and set with a stone of deepest, solid blue. Sapphire—but different. I’d never seen a sapphire like that, even at my father’s offices. This one…I could have sworn that in the pale light, the lines of a six-pointed star radiated across the round, opaque surface.

My ring.

"There you are," I couldn't help but whisper. "I've been looking for you."

Careful to keep my bargain, I plucked it from the shelf, pinching it between my forefinger and thumb to avoid touching anything else. Time to go. I turned towards the door.

And nearly retched on the spot. The Illyrians weren't dead yet—they were still shrieking like wounded animals—but their shredded entrails were…everywhere. And the Weaver had unhinged her jaw to sate that unholy hunger.

As I walked past them to leave the cottage, I did not look away. I had chosen this fate for them, horrible as it was. The least I could do was bear witness, even as my feet slid along the blood-soaked floor and crossed the threshold.

The rest of them were hers, too. The screams started again, and I felt the tattoo fade. As I stalked towards the trees, I clutched the ring so tightly that the prongs around the sapphire nearly split open my skin.

And perhaps it made me a monster, a murderous human with ice in her heart, but…I didn't feel guilty. If anything, I was relieved. The echo of magic that had wormed its way into my soul belonged solely to the Night Court, and there was nothing linking me back to Tamlin or Spring. I wasn't…tainted.

I found Rhys leaning casually against a tree, hands in his pockets—lounging practically. As I approached, his groomed brows flicked up in a silent question.

I held up the ring.

A smile—a real one, not a smirk, something boyish and decidedly un-High-Lord-like—bloomed on his face. Despite the agonized screams still ringing in my ears, my stomach flipped pleasantly. I grinned back.

With the horror growing even more distant, I let myself feel proud of what I'd done. And maybe it was just the way Rhys was smiling at me, but I felt…lighter. Giddy, almost.

I'd done it. The ring in my hand was tangible proof that I deserved my place in the Night Court, at his side, and I hadn't realized how much better it made me feel to have it.

Too eager to walk, Rhys winnowed the last few feet of distance between us. I pressed forward to kiss him, rising up on my toes, and he scooped me up in one smooth movement.

Not that I'd ever doubt you, he said in my head, but should I take this to mean it all went smoothly?

Of course it did—I only ever bargain fairly.

Rhys laughed against my lips, setting me back down. When he pulled away, his violet eyes were soft. "You're brilliant," he breathed, reaching up to run a thumb along my cheek. "I didn't think I'd ever see that ring again."

He took my free hand and winnowed us away. I'd assumed we were going to the townhouse, or at least, back to Velaris, and blinked in surprise when a clearing in a pine forest materialized instead. Illyria.

Before us were two stones—headstones. They were small but unworn, with no decoration or text other than two names I didn't recognize. And in front of them, the grass was covered in pebbles and small rocks.

Rhys must have understood my confusion. Voice thick, he said, "Our kind don't leave flowers on graves like humans do. As immortals…we prefer something more permanent and leave stones instead."

Each stone a visit, and there were piles of them, small stacks like miniature fortresses. I wondered how many Rhys had left, if any had been added since he'd been imprisoned Under the Mountain. The grass around the graves was well-kept—someone had been taking care of this place, or at least cast a few preserving spells. Rhys slipped his hand from mine and stepped forward, folding his wings back so they didn't drag on the ground as he sat in an empty patch of grass.

"I'm sorry," he said, and I almost asked why he was apologizing before I realized he wasn't speaking to me, "for going so long without visiting both of you. I was— It's over now. I'm back. And I didn't come back alone. This is Feyre. She's my mate, and I kept my promise, mama. Feyre bargained and got the ring back."

Still feeling like a bit of an intruder, I took a few cautious steps forward and sat in the grass next to him. I reached a hand out, but Rhys didn't take it, just wiped at his eyes. For a long moment, everything was quiet except for the distant sound of birds and the wind blowing through the pines.

I'd never visited my own mother's grave. It had been years since I'd missed her, and if our situations had been reversed, I doubted she would have visited mine. I'd long since made my peace with it.

Perhaps my mother-in-law could have filed that void, been someone I could lean on. But all I had from her was a lesson on ruthlessness that had won me the ring in my hand.

"I wish I could have asked you for advice, on how to be Lady of Night when you're a nineteen-year-old outsider. I have the ring but…I don't know if it's enough," I said quietly. "More than anything, though, I'd like to thank you. For raising him."

A ragged noise escaped Rhys, and I reached my free hand out again. He interlaced our fingers, squeezing almost to the point of pain. I squeezed back, then turned to the other grave. "I grew up with two sisters, Nesta and Elain. But now…I suppose I have three," I said.

As one, Rhys and I got to our feet. We stood there, hand-in-hand, and for a moment, the hole where his family should have been seemed deep enough to swallow everything. It didn't matter that centuries had passed—so much was missing and irreparably broken.

But I wasn't finished, and I forced myself to keep going. I'd fulfilled a promise today, but I had a new oath to swear. "The male who got you killed ripped me from my family and manipulated me for his own ends. If Rhys and I hadn't found each other…my blood would have been on Tamlin's hands, too. I won't allow him to endanger a Night Court female again."

We lingered in silence a bit longer, then left two stones behind on each grave. Rhys winnowed us to the living room of the townhouse. There was more to do—Amren would no doubt want to be informed about what I'd sensed in the Weaver's cottage, and I wanted to change out of my leathers first.

But I couldn't keep holding onto the ring forever. I uncurled my fingers, holding it out to him. "Do you…want it back?"

"It's yours," he said, as if that settled it.

I didn't have the nerve to slip the ring on, even after shedding blood to get it. Not even here, in the privacy of our own home. I'd never questioned the mating bond—how could I when it was the strongest thing I'd ever known? But this was different.

The bond belonged to the two of us. Wearing a family ring was a public declaration.

Rhys cocked his head, studying me again. I was still too caught up in my own thoughts to move. For a moment, I expected a familiar caress of talons against my shields, but it never came.

No, Rhys just plucked the ring from my hand and dropped down to one knee. "Feyre—"

My heart hammered in my chest, and I nearly bolted upstairs. But I couldn't run from him without a word—not again and certainly not like this.

"Don't," I choked out. Rhys went utterly still, forcing his expression into something blank and composed. My eyes stung, but I kept going before I made this worse than it already was. "You wouldn't marry me if I were a faerie."

He blinked. "Of course I—"

"You wouldn't. Because marriage is a silly, pointless formality when there's already an unbreakable thread binding our souls together. But I…" My throat bobbed. "Please don't start treating me differently because I'm human."

In Spring, I'd been something to be gawked at, addressed as "human" instead of my name. I'd felt small and stupid and useless, and I would not let anyone do that to me again, not even if they meant well, like he did.

And especially not in the Night Court, where I belonged.

Rhys stood and wiped away the tears that were now streaming down my cheeks. I let the soft brush of his calloused hands settle me as his wings nudged me closer and encircled us both.

"I'm sorry. You looked so unsure just now, and I… I needed you to know I'd choose you in every way possible."

A surprised—if still a bit teary—laugh bubbled out of me. I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder. "I know you would. Sometimes what we feel for each other is the only thing I think I'm sure of."

I felt the tension melt from his body. With a stab of guilt, I wondered if running off to the House of Wind on our first night back had left him with doubts that ran deeper than I'd originally thought. But I let it go—it was hard to keep dwelling on the past when he was letting out a contented hum and kissing the top of my head.

I let myself savor the peace for a few heartbeats, but I couldn't ignore the way he'd only wrapped one arm around me. The other still held the ring.

"For what it's worth, I do want to wear it," I whispered. "I know I can't, at least for now, but if things were different, I would. Every day."

Rhys stepped back and smiled, taking my left hand in his, cradling it as if it were something delicate—not calloused in odd places from holding a bow, with crescents of dirt and blood under my ragged nails. The glamour fell away, revealing the swirling lines of the half-finished tattoo.

He slid the ring onto my finger. I'd thought it might look wrong there, but the ring was Illyrian and my hands were rough like a warrior's. The fit was perfect, and it sat in a gap that had been left between the whorls of my tattoo.

Like it was always meant to be there.

The intensity of emotions rippling across his face was so strong I nearly had to look away. Love, reverent adoration…and that purely male, possessive gleam in his star-flecked eyes. My toes curled in my boots.

"I'm yours, mate," I whispered.

His mouth crashed into mine just the way I'd hoped it would. I parted my lips eagerly, ready to lose myself in the sweep of his tongue.

Maybe I'd never get used to how quickly I could be ready and aching for him. But the pleasure he'd wrung from me last night hadn't been enough, not after several days keeping our hands off each other in Illyria. One scrape of his teeth against my bottom lip, and I was scrabbling at the fastenings of his leathers.

I reached for him through the bond, and his shields were down in an instant. Will you wear one too, Rhys? To let everyone know you're mine?

Those last two words dragged a groan from deep in his throat. He shucked the leathers and undershirt off in one smooth movement, and I ran my hands down, down the hard planes of his muscled chest. Lower and lower, until I brushed the trail of soft hair above the waistband of his pants.

Even in our minds, I sounded breathless. Fuck me while I wear the ring and nothing else.

A flash of pain sparked and lit up the mating bond, even as his tongue plunged deeper into my mouth. I leaped back, shocked as if a bucket of ice had been thrown over us both.

Rhys was breathing hard, eyes wide and wild. He pushed me out of his mind, and his shields were firmly in place again. The walls of adamant were higher and thicker than I'd ever felt them.

"What's wrong?" I said aloud.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. Darkness fell from his shoulders in pulsing, furious waves. A few tendrils wrapped around him like a cloak, and the rest dimmed the room.

He reached for me. I stepped back again. "Rhysand. Tell me what's wrong."

For a long moment, Rhys said nothing. He pressed his eyes shut, his breathing still uneven. I waited. The darkness kept leaking into the room, and when it was pitch-black, he finally spoke.

"The ring with Jurian's eye. She never took it off. Not even when we…" he managed to say.

My heart cracked in two.

"Cauldron, Rhys, I'm so sorry. I should have realized." That ring had featured in so many of our nightmares; I'd been utterly, monumentally stupid not to think of it.

I wanted to hold him, but that seemed….unwise. It might startle him if the dark was too thick for him to see me coming closer. With his shields up, I couldn't reach down the bond and drag him back to the present like I wanted to.

His wings. He still had his wings out. "Rhys," I said, as gently as I could manage. "Go fly. Circle Velaris as many times as you need to. I'll be here when you get back."

There was a rustling noise as his wings snapped outward. Something soft brushed my cheek, and then I was alone, squinting in the too-bright sunlight when the darkness disappeared with him.

I'd ruined everything, so there was nothing to be done but change out of my leathers and wait. My heart was heavy as I sank into one of the chairs on the roof and watched the sky, hoping for a glimpse of him.

I wished I'd been the sort of person who could have just smiled and happily accepted a proposal. Or at the very least, not someone who made it worse by dredging up his nightmares unexpectedly.

Maybe we'd never get completely free from Under the Mountain.

The other end of the bond was silent, and I twisted the ring around my finger so many times I nearly rubbed the skin raw. I could just make out his dark shape against the clouds, the powerful beat of his wings as he looped and looped over the city. One day, I hoped, he'd do the same and carry me with him.

It was a while before Rhys landed on the roof. The movement was easy and graceful, the draft of wind from that massive wingspan ruffling my hair as he touched down with silent feet. He regarded me, eyes dry, standing stiff-backed in a way that seemed unnatural for him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I said, though I knew he didn't.

He shook his head. "I just want you."

In an instant, I was on his lap on the other chair. His breath was warm against my ear as he sighed, draping both arms over my shoulders as he leaned his chest against my back. Exhaustion seemed to roll off him the way his power usually did. We said nothing, but Rhys laced our fingers together and pressed a kiss to the knuckle of my left hand, right next to the ring.

No hard feelings, then.

It was another day before we met with Amren, who made me describe everything I'd felt in the Weaver's cottage in excruciating detail. There was more research to be done, but she had a new working theory—that the Spring Court hadn't left me with any of its own magic, just reshaped the Night Court's existing claim on me.

The faint magic within me wasn't an echo—it had become a seed.

Whether it would bloom or bear fruit or something else entirely was anyone's guess. If given the opportunity, I had the sense Amren would pick me apart to find out. But it was better than going on no information at all.

A few weeks later, I landed a hit on Cassian with a wooden sword the same day I finished the first book I ever read from cover-to-cover. The days had passed as a steady rhythm of training and reading, mostly spent in the House of Wind.

Life was…quiet. Better, though not perfect. Rhys and I still depended on the sleeping draught, and the library was the only windowless place either of us could tolerate for more than an hour at a time. We chipped away at the work of catching up—me on literacy, him on the business of running the Night Court—in companionable silence on sunlit balconies or tucked away among the priestesses.

The rest days were the hardest to tolerate. Without exhaustion to settle my mind, I found myself wandering the city aimlessly, too restless to sit still. The streets of Velaris quickly became familiar.

All of it, except for the Rainbow. I hadn't gotten up the nerve to set foot in the artists' quarter. I'd skirted the edges carefully, and in truth, stared at it wistfully on more than one occasion.

I suspected that Tamlin had given me paints as a distraction, a ploy to quiet me down and soften my feelings towards him. And even if it had just been an attempt to break the curse and save his people…it hurt. Something I loved had been used against me, and I wasn't sure I could throw my whole self into painting so fearlessly ever again.

But I did finish the snowdrops lining the edges of the kitchen table. And it had felt…good. My heart squeezed at the way Rhys smiled every time he looked at them.

There were more leftover paints, so I took to hiding clever decorations in my room, just as I had in the cabin. Behind the curtains, under the dressing table, inside drawers…and nothing more than flowering vines, curls of flame, or intricate, abstract designs. Nothing with me in it.

It was all I could manage. Not a secret, but…I didn't want to be watched or talk about it.

Rhys spotted them eventually, of course. He'd been sprawled out on my bed one morning, staring at my ass as I slipped off my nightgown to get ready for the day. When I heard his sharp intake of breath behind me, I figured he'd noticed the ivy painted on the inside of the drawer I'd just opened.

I'd whirled around, ready to lob a pair of socks at his head in response to a teasing remark. Or worse, for him to be upset that I hadn't told him I'd painted.

But he'd just tilted his head, regarded me thoughtfully, and said, "That's one way to hide what's precious to you."

He'd once said something similar about his wings. And I'd supposed the same thing was true for keeping Velaris and our mating bond hidden. Those violet eyes met mine, and I felt…understood. Somehow, it wasn't terrifying.

It gave me the confidence to start leaving those little hidden designs around the rest of the townhouse. I'd started with his room, then expanded to the kitchen and the foyer. Claiming marks, if you knew where to look for them.

Similar to my mating band, which I took to wearing hidden on a chain under my shirt. Rhys did the same, after he'd offered to find a horrible creature to retrieve his from and call us even.

I wasn't quite sure what I'd do when the paints ran out, and I'd been deliberately not thinking much about it. But my walks took me past the city's outdoor sculptures and murals more often lately, and perhaps that was progress.

But it was only a matter of time before the peace was broken again. We were roused from our beds with news of another attack on a temple, this one at Sangravah.

The security measures Rhys had arranged for the priestesses left survivors this time, though not many. Once he left for the temple, I headed to the library, prepared to help with whatever the priestesses needed, just like before.

I'd expected to prepare more bodies for burial, but Mor walked in with an auburn-haired female wrapped in a blood-soaked cloak that was far too big for her.

"I healed her," Mor said, "but she needs someone to help her get settled."

I agreed to handle it, and the priestess turned at the sound of my voice. Her teal eyes were distant—haunted, really. More blood, hers or someone else's, had spattered on her face.

Clearing the mess away with magic wouldn't be enough for her to feel clean after whatever ordeal she'd just gone through—I knew that after everything Under the Mountain. I fetched a washcloth and basin and helped her clean off.

She didn't speak. And perhaps that was for the best—I had no idea what I would have said anyway. Later that night, I learned from another priestess that her name was Gwyneth Berdara and Hybern had slaughtered her twin sister during the attack.

As Catrin Berdara's name was read during the funeral service a few hours later, I decided it was finally time to stop avoiding my own sisters. Mortal lives were short, and in a hundred years, I'd regret not making the most of the time I had with them.

Even if I couldn't find the words to tell Nesta and Elain all the ways my life had changed since coming to Prythian, I'd go to the mortal lands tomorrow.

[stargazer-liz]

Serendipity (Poe Dameron x Original Female Character) Chapter I: Stranded on Jakku

Chapter I: Stranded on Jakku

Masterlist

The planet Jakku, Inner Rim, 34 ABY

"One quarter portion?! You can't be serious."

Sora's face was consorted in anger, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. Brown eyes glaring him into the ground, she stared at Unkar Plutt, the unspoken ruler of the Niima Outpost. She had only known the merchant for two years and each time she saw him, the young woman had a hard time trying to stop herself from punching him in his face. 

If it wasn't for Rey, her personified voice of reason, she probably would have done so already.

"Does it look like I am joking to you, sweetheart?"

All but snarling at the Crolute, Sora felt her blood boil in her veins. "Listen here you dipshi-"

Once more, the scavenger quickly came to her aid, not wanting for them to get on Unkar's bad side. They needed food and every portion was valuable, no matter the size. "What she meant to say was thank you. We'll take it." 

Rey took the small package of dried meat and stuffed it into her bag. Her other hand quickly grabbed Sora's arm to pull her away from Unkar's hut. She knew her friend would try to negotiate (or well, what her definition of negotiating was) and they couldn't take the risk. 

Sora huffed but followed Rey wordlessly, sending Unkar one last angry glare before she turned around and left the junk boss behind her. She could feel his smug smile which instantly made her want to slap it off his ugly face. 

As if she could read her thoughts, Rey put her arm around Sora's shoulder. "Come on Sora, I'm starving." It was both a friendly gesture and a way to stop the young woman from doing something that would come back to bite them in the ass later. 

Sighing softly, Sora let her shoulders relax. She knew her scavenger friend was right and she was thankful for her intervention. Unfortunately, their survival on Jakku was tied closely to Unkar. They relied on him to avoid starving to death, like everyone else in this damned desert. Moreover, without a way off this planet it was better to not make any enemies here. She had enough of those scattered around the galaxies already, even though she supposed word about her "death" would have gotten around by now.  Still , there was no need to risk anything, at least for the time being. 

Pushing Unkar into the back of her mind, Sora's mood lifted instantly. Somehow, Rey's presence alone had a way of calming her down and lifting her spirits.

With a smile on her face, she bumped her hips into Rey's, causing the latter to stumble slightly. "First to get back home has to wash the dishes."

Rey didn't even have time to comprehend the sentence before Sora ran off laughing, the sand swirling around her feet. The hood of her dark brown jacket flew off her head, leaving her unprotected from the relentless sun which glared down at her pale skin.

"Hey, that's not fair," Rey scolded her friend, yet she couldn't help but laugh at Sora's quick change of mood and her playful antics. The scavenger wasted no time and broke into a run. She knew both of them would regret the race later, when their bodies would be drenched in sweat, the sand clinging to their skin and clothes. 

Yet, carefree moments like these were rare and very much needed. Jakku was a lawless, ruthless place. Despite of the blazing sun illuminating the planet, darkness, hunger and thirst kept it on a tight reign. It was not a place anyone would willingly call home. 

But they had each other. And that was more than enough for them.

*******

Night was slowly approaching as Sora and Rey sat in the shadows of the remnants of a spaceship. It had become a habit for them to spend their dinner time there, with Sora telling Rey stories of her life as a smuggler and of all the planets she had visited.

Rey herself had never left Jakku and was always fascinated by the smugglers tales and adventures. It made it easier for Sora to forget about the slight stab to her heart whenever she thought about her past. She missed her old life, her freedom. She often found herself thinking about Elijah, her former co-pilot, partner in crime and trusted friend. The last time she had seen him, he had been hurt and she had been on the brink of death. In fact, she would have died if it wasn't for the mysterious stranger who had healed her wounds as best as they could and had somehow brought her to Jakku.

It was Rey who had found her broken but healing body laying in an escape pod in the middle of the desert. She had nursed Sora back to full health, had given her a new home and stuck to her ever since.

She knew Elijah was somewhere out there, alive and probably mourning her. Revan had likely reunited with Nyra and her best friend had gotten the credits to repair the Phoenix, their ship. Maybe he was continuing their smuggle business on his own. Maybe he had settled down and gotten a normal job. 

She would never know.

Despite the fact that she was very much alive, her old life was gone and she had no hope of ever returning to it.

Swallowing the last crumbs of her bread, Sora absently played with a strand of long black hair that had escaped her braid. 

"Ready to go?" Rey's voice broke the silence. 

Letting go of the lone strand of hair, Sora locked eyes with her friend. Rey was brushing off sand from her clothes, getting ready to head back to their small hut to call it a night. 

Though, like almost every other night, Sora shook her head and shared a soft smile with the scavenger. "I think I'll stay here a little longer. Don't wait for me."

"Okay." Rey whispered, not questioning her. She knew Sora needed solitude every once in a while. It brought some peace to her mind. "Be careful out here." There was a gentle warning in her eyes. Danger lurked everywhere on Jakku, especially at night. She didn't want anything to happen to her friend. 

"Of course." Sora rolled her eyes jokingly. Warmth spread through her body at the knowledge that she still had someone who deeply cared about her. "You know no one would stand a chance against me." 

Which was only partly true and they both knew it. Although Rey had never actually seen Sora fight, her former job as a smuggler ensured that she had developed certain skills. But without a blaster, she was only half as good as she used to be. 

But Sora wasn't afraid. Jakku was basically harmless compared to some of the planets she had visited before. 

"Good night, Rey." 

"Good night, Sora." Sending her one last smile, Rey broke into a jog and left the young woman behind.

Sora watched her go until she disappeared behind a dune. The sun had already set and the temperature significantly dropped. Shivering, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. The metal from one of the ships parts was still warm underneath her body.

Above her, stars littered the night sky of Jakku. In her head, she named the constellations and thought back to the times she had visited some of them with the Phoenix. 

Sora sighed sadly. Her desire to have her ship back weighed her down heavily. She would love to take Rey for a flight to show her a world beyond the sandy surface of Jakku. To look for Elijah together.

One day she would. 

It was a promise she had made months ago. She would steal one of Unkar's precious spaceships and leave this planet behind. 

As soon as Rey was ready to let go of the thought of her parents ever coming back. Then, they would leave. She didn't want to leave her behind, not after everything the scavenger had done for her.

One day.

A sudden beeping noise alerted Sora's attention. Hastily, she sprang to her feet, eyes moving in every direction. It was hard to see anything in the dark. Thankfully, the natural light of the stars cast a subtle glow across the sand.

Nothing. Maybe she was just tired and imaging things.

Just as she was about to sit back down, another beep echoed in the desert. Only this time, it seemed to be much closer than before. 

Instantly, her heartbeat found a slow, steady rhythm again. 

Sora was fluent in Binary and would recognize it anywhere.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly walked around the remnants of the spaceship, carefully navigating past rubbles of metal to avoid scaring the little droid with any sudden loud noises. 

"I won't hurt you. You can come out now." Her voice was soft, trying to coax the astromech out of its hiding spot. She was both curious and cautious. It was unlikely that the droid was alone, its master probably not being too far behind. 

Sure enough, a tiny dome head peeked out from behind an old crate right in front of Sora. It kept a single curious eye on her as it slowly rolled towards her. Instead of using legs to move around, the bulk of its body was made up of a ball. Orange and silver elements decorated its mostly white surface.

With its tiny antenna slightly bend at the top of his head, Sora couldn't help but to coo softly. "Awe, what a cute little droid you are." Kneeling down in front of the astromech droid, she slowly raised her hand to fix its antenna. "There you go." 

She received happy chirps in return as the droid spun around her a couple of times. Letting out a laugh, the smuggler decided she already adored the little guy. "What are you doing out here alone?"

Sora had a hard time trying to follow his fast blabbering. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she listened intently. "You were on a mission with your master but unfortunately lost him. Now you have to finish the mission alone."

A wave of sadness swept across her body. Apparently, the First Order had interrupted their very important mission. His master had given the droid vital information before he had sacrificed himself. It sounded vaguely familiar.

"I'm sorry buddy. This must have been terrible," She tried to console it, gently patting its head. The droid leant into her touch, thanking her with a few quiet beeps. "I wish I could have helped your master. What's your name?"

Beebee-Ate.

"Hello Beebee-Ate, I'm Sora." A giggle escaped her when the droid happily rolled around her in circles once again. She couldn't help it, it was simply too adorable. Before she knew it, she had already made up her mind. "You know what, maybe I couldn't help you then, but I can now. I suppose someone is waiting for the data you have. Where is your home?"

At her question, Beebee-Ate only hesitated for a second, letting his eye wander all over her as if in deep thoughts. Then, without further ado, he deemed her trustworthy. "So you're part of the Resistance, huh? And you need to get to the Ileenium System. I've never actually met someone from the Resistance, you know? At least not that I know."

Sora knew she was about to get involved in something very dangerous. The Resistance was fighting a never ending war against the First Order, the same people that had nearly cost her her life. The same General who would no doubt recognize her should he ever see her again. She had stolen from them and hurt Hux in the process. This could end very badly for her, once again.

Still, excitement tingled inside her belly, reminding her of her old job. Only this time, it would all be for a good cause. 

Her brown eyes shone under the lights of a thousand stars as she smiled at Beebee-Ate in mischief. "What do you think about stealing a ship?"

*****

When Sora awoke, it was already past noon. Still half asleep, she yawned and rubbed her eyes. In search for her friend, she looked around the small hut she had grown used to call home. The bed next to her was empty, just like the tiny table next to the door. It wasn't unusual for her to sleep longer than Rey, seeing as she often stayed up well past midnight. The scavenger didn't have it in her heart to wake her up and disturb her dreams. Instead, she would often use the time to scout out possible places to scavenge. After all, they had a job to do if they wanted to fill their bellies. 

"Beebee-Ate? Are you here?" She received no answer, leading her to believe Rey must have taken their new friend with her.

When Sora had closed the door behind her and the little droid just a couple of hours earlier that day, a very surprised Rey had been waiting for them. With the help of Beebee-Ate, it hadn't taken her long to explain her plan to the scavenger. 

In the evening, when there were less people out in the Niima Outpost, they would steal one of Unkar's ship and fly Beebee-Ate to his home where his General was waiting for the map to Luke Skywalker. 

The new information Beebee-Ate had shared with Sora without any second thoughts still shocked her. Obviously, she had heard that name before. The last living Jedi who was supposed to be nothing but a myth. However, now she understood why this map was so important, not only to the Rebellion but the First Order as well. 

If anything, that made her even more determined to help the droid. 

Rey had been hesitant to agree at first, but she too was curious and awestruck by the news of Luke Skywalker being somewhere out there, alive and well. 

In the end, she had agreed under one condition: They would fly back to Jakku right after they succeeded in fulfilling Beebee-Ate's mission. 

Sora had felt her excitement lessen as soon as the words had left Rey's mouth. She didn't want to return to Jakku. She also didn't have it in her heart to tell Rey that Unkar would never allow them to walk on his ground after stealing from him. 

Especially not if they stole the Millennium Falcon. 

Sora wasn't dumb. She knew one of the spaceships the junk boss harbored was Han Solo's beloved spacecraft. As a fellow smuggler, she had obviously seen it before; had even met its rightful owners. She didn't know how it had come into Unkar's possession but she would happily steal it from him. 

After putting on her tight but comfortable dark beige trousers, a black top and her jacket, Sora stuffed some of their leftover bread in her mouth. Her eyes found a note on the table which she picked up eagerly. 

Big boss has an urgent job for me. Decided to take the little droid with me. Didn't want to wake you up. We'll be back by the evening. Prepare for take-off.

"Stay safe, Rey." She mumbled to herself, throwing the note into the bin. Quickly putting her hair up into a bun so they wouldn't stick to the sweat on her neck, Sora grabbed her small bag and tied it around her waist. She needed to fill their water supplies for the long journey ahead of them. 

Water was a rare resource on Jakku. With it being a desert planet, it never rained and most inhabitants had to grab their water from various wells. Most of the time, they were further out in the dunes, like small oases. 

Once a week, it was her job to fill up the tanks of their home. It would take her about two hours to reach the well using the old speeder they had and two hours back. Sora knew she had to hurry now if she wanted to be back home by the evening.

The scorching sun greeted her warmly as soon as the smuggler stepped outside. No matter how long she had been staying on this planet, she would never get used to the unbearable heat. Pulling the hood of her jacket over her head, she made a beeline towards the old, rusty speeder in their backyard. 

They only used it whenever absolutely necessary, out of pure fear it would otherwise fall apart too soon. Rey had build it from scratch herself and it had taken many months to find all the necessary parts.

It took a few times until the engine roared to life and Sora was zooming through the desert, leaving a trail of sand whirling behind her. The wind caressed her face gently, causing her hood to fly off her head once again. This was no comparison to the feeling of sitting in a cockpit, yet it was the closest she would get.

At least until tonight.

Sora couldn't wait to be up in the air again. To see the stars up close. To feel one with the galaxies again. 

And most importantly, she couldn't wait to see the look on Unkar's face when she would steal his spaceship from right unter his fat nose. The thought alone made her smile.

She was nearly at her destination when she saw it. 

There, on a dune in front of her, was what looked to be a deployed parachute. 

At first, Sora thought her eyes were betraying her. But the closer she got, the more details she could make out. It's wasn't just a parachute. There was an ejection seat attached to it and the smuggler had no doubt someone was still strapped into it. Clearly, there had to have been a crash but a ship wreckage was nowhere in sight.

She couldn't just drive by and act like she hadn't seen it. There was a chance whoever had been unfortunate enough to strand on Jakku was still alive, just like her.

With a newly found determination and a healthy dose of curiosity, Sora approached the scene in front of her. When she was close enough, she turned off the speeder's engine and quickly jumped into the sand. 

She didn't waste any time and crossed the remaining distance as fast as possible. 

It was a man. 

Clearly unconscious and still strapped into the ejected seat of his ship, dried blood coated his right temple and cheek. He must have hit his head on the way down. Filled with both curiosity and concern for the stranger, Sora crouched down beside him to take a good look at him. He seemed to be a few years older than her, probably in his early to mid thirties. Black curls stuck to the sweat and blood on his forehead. Specks of grime and sand were smudged to the visible stubble on his undoubtedly handsome face. His beige shirt and dark brown trousers were coated in sand but there were no other visible injuries. 

Gently, she raised two fingers against the soft skin of his neck. A steady thrum beat against her fingers, causing Sora to exhale in relief. He was alive.

Before she had time to process what was happening, a strong hand wrapped around her fingers, keeping them locked in a tight hold. Although it wasn't painful, she flinched in surprise, her body recoiling from the sudden sensation. 

"What do you think you're doing?" His voice was raspy, likely from having been unconscious for a while. A pair of brown eyes stared at her, watching her expectantly. He looked tired and confused but Sora could detect that he was on high alert.

She knew exactly how he was feeling at the moment as flashes from her own crash-landing resurfaced in her mind. "Hey, I'm not trying to hurt you, okay," she tried calming him down, raising her free hand in surrender. "I was just checking to see whether you were alive."

His brows knitted in confusion. "Well, am I?" The grip on her hand loosened as he let his eyes wander over her, as if he was just now truly seeing her. 

Sora suppressed a chuckle. "I'm 99% sure that you are."

"Good." His gaze still fixed on her, he nodded. "That's good."

"You might have a concussion though," she said, freeing her fingers from his warm touch. Sora pointed at his temple, "You must have hit your head during the crash."

Her words seemed to snap him out of his daze as he blinked a couple of times. "Crash?" Then his eyes widened in realisation. "Crash! Finn? Where is he?"

Sora was barely able to jump to her feet and take a step back before the stranger had freed himself from the restraints of his seatbelt and was on his feet again. Like a reflex, her hand went to her belt, the absence of a blaster hitting her once again. 

His legs wobbled a bit as he turned around, frantically searching his surrounding. "Finn! Finn!"

Obviously, he was looking for someone, probably his companion. Sora felt bad that she had to be the bearer of bad news. "Look, I hate to tell you this but you were alone when I found you. No ship, no other human being. Whoever you are looking for is not here." As the stranger turned back towards her with slumped shoulders, she quickly added "I'm sorry."

There was a flash of sadness in his eyes but it was quickly replaced with acceptance. Clearly, this hadn't been his first loss. "Great. This is just great." Sighing, he ran a calloused hand over his face wincing when it came in contact with the small cut on his temple. Then, he composed himself. "You don't happen to have a ship I could borrow?"

"Do you really think I would be here if I had one?" Wanting to prove her point, Sora pointed at the never ending dunes of sands around them with a sad smile. Everything was beige, apart from the glowing sun and the blue sky. "In case you haven't noticed it yet, we are on Jakku."

The stranger winced once again. "Yeah, thanks for the reminder. I really needed that one."

"You're very welcome," the smuggler responded dryly, having recognised the sarcasm in his voice.

A small smile formed on his lips. Once again, his eyes roamed over her face and Sora wasn't sure what to make of it. Although it didn't make her feel uncomfortable, it did make the atmosphere between them a bit awkward. Something which the stranger seemed to notice as well. 

Cautiously stepping closer to her, he stuck out a hand for her to shake. She found herself  accepting it faster than she liked. "I'm Poe. Poe Dameron." His hand was warm in hers. Whilst many callouses littered the skin, it was incredibly soft. Sora almost didn't want to let go.

It didn't help that he was very attractive. 

But she didn't know this man and this was definitely not the time nor the place for such thoughts. 

"Sora Park." Letting go of his hand immediately after their introduction, Sora took an almost unnoticeable step back. A habit caused be her old job.

Poe didn't seem offended by her act of caution. If anything, the smile on his face only grew. "Sora, huh? What is a woman doing out here in the desert all alone?"

The smuggler raised her brows and huffed jokingly. "I guess I could ask you the same."

"You could but I asked first." Poe was grinning now. 

To Sora, it almost seemed as if any worries about his former companion or his space ship had been forgotten already. However, she knew better than that. His eyes and body language portrayed a healthy dose of determination. There was no doubt in her that he was already planning how to leave this planet and do whatever he had to do to get them back. It was like she was looking in the mirror and seeing herself from two years ago.

"Touché." Sora rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. "Unfortunately, I happen to live in this desert. You are just lucky that you landed next to my closest source of water which I was just about to collect."

Peeking at the speeder behind her, Poe whistled lowly. "I guess we were both lucky then because that thing looks like it should not be driving anymore at all."

"Well, now you are hurting me," she joked, pressing a hand against her chest. "This speeder may look like a pile of junk to you but it is my pile of junk. Only I get to talk bad about it."

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Poe let out a small laugh. "You have my deepest apologies, princess."

Sora decided to ignore the nickname and wrote it off as meaningless flirting. "Apologies accepted."

She wanted to help this man. No, she needed to help him in any way she could. She remembered that what had just happened to him here had happened to her not long ago as well. Rey had helped her too even though she had been nothing but a stranded stranger back then. Sora felt obliged to do the same. "Listen, my friend and I plan on temporarily leaving Jakku tonight. If you want to, we can drop you off somewhere on our route."

At her words, Poe perked up, straightening his posture. "Leaving? I thought you didn't have a ship?"

Sora smiled innocently. "Technically no, but we will burrow one."

Poe raised his eyebrows, grinning widely at her. "Borrowing, huh?"

"Well, do you want to leave this planet or not?" Shrugging her shoulders, the smuggler only motioned towards her speeder. She turned around and made her way back to the vehicle, not bothering to wait for him. She was sure he would follow her immediately anyways.

"You don't have to ask me again," Poe mumbled barely audible. "Hey, have you seen a brown leather jacket laying around?" He questioned from next to her, easily keeping up with her pace.

His arm brushed against hers and Sora resisted the urge to put some distance between them. After all, they would cling to each other on the speeder anyways. "No, I haven't. It's probably with what's left of your space ship. If there is anything left, that is. Wherever that may be." 

"Wow, you really know how to brighten someone's mood, don't you?"

"It's what Jakku teaches you." 

Poe only nodded, the smile never leaving his face. "Yeah, I don't like it here either."

They stopped in front of Rey's speeder. Sora could see Poe judging the vehicle, his eyes inspecting every part of it. "Are you sure this is safe to drive, princess? This looks like it's going to fall apart any minute." He couldn't help asking with both humor and a hint of doubt in his voice. 

Sora tilted her head to the side, looking at him with an obviously annoyed smile. "Safe? Probably not but I am still alive and not injured, so you will be just fine, your majesty."

Poe whistled lowly, leaning against the speeder with crossed arms. "Your majesty, huh?" Letting his gaze wander from her toes to her head, Poe grinned smugly. "I like the sound of that. So, does that make me your prince or something?"

Sora could feel her cheeks growing hot under his stare. Annoyance rose within her, threatening to rise to the surface. She had only just met this man and he was already getting under her skin. "You know, I can still leave you out here to fend for yourself. For your sake, I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut until we're on board of that ship."

Zipping his mouth shut with his finger, Peo only nodded, his seemingly omnipresent grin shining brightly. 

Sora rolled her eyes, yet she couldn't prevent letting a small chuckle escape her mouth. She couldn't deny that she liked talking to him. Conversing with him was surprisingly easy. "Good. Now, I'm just gonna fill this small tank with some water and then we will be on our way. Wait here and don't move, okay?" 

Not giving him time to respond, she grabbed their small water tank and was already jogging across the dune ahead of them to do her job.

It didn't take her long to collect the water from the well. Just a few minutes later, she found herself in front of her speeder again. Having patiently waited for her, Poe greeted her with his bright smile, showing her his white teeth. "I could have helped you, you know?"

Strapping the now filled water tank back onto the speeder, Sora shook her head and locked eyes with him again. "It was a one person job anyways." Swinging her leg over one side of the speeder, Sora made herself as comfortable as possible on the seat. Then, she patted the space behind her, looking at Poe expectantly. "Hop on, we need to hurry. We have to be back by evening."

The handsome pilot didn't waste any time. Suddenly, his warm chest pressed against her back as two strong arms wrapped around her waist. Her breath hitched at the sudden feeling of his hands on the thin material covering her stomach, his warm breath hitting her neck with each exhale. Goosebumps traveled all over her body. 

It wasn't everyday that Sora was in proximity of such a beautiful man. Therefore, she allowed herself to enjoy the feeling for one second before reminding herself that he was still just a stranger and merely another mission to complete. "Hold on tight."

"Oh, I definitely will, princess," Poe said, unintentionally (or was it?)  leaning into her even more as the speeder surged forward.

The drive back to Rey's and Sora's hut was uneventful. Poe and her had spent it in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet of Jakku's desert. Just before sunset, Sora stopped the speeder in front of Rey's home and killed the engine. "We're here. You can let go now." Turning her head to lock eyes with him, the smuggler pointed at his arms which were still wrapped around her body. 

Almost teasingly, Poe slowly let go of her, letting his arms fall to his sides before he stood up and stretched his body. "You know, this was a much more comfortable ride than I anticipated. This speeder isn't so bad." Yawning, he covered his mouth with one hand. "I almost fell asleep against your back."

"I'm glad that at least one of us had fun." 

Sora jumped from the vehicle, dusting off sand from her clothes, feeling Poe's eyes on her the whole time. "Follow me. Rey and BeeBee-Ate should be waiting for us inside." 

At the mention of the droids name, Poe's eyes widened as he quickly stepped closer to her. "BeeBee-Ate," putting his hands on her shoulders, Poe's hard gaze locked with hers. "Did you just say BeeBee-Ate is here?"

Oh. Suddenly, it clicked in Sora's brain. It was indeed a weird coincidence that both a droid who had lost his master and a pilot without a ship had stranded on the same planet within a timespan of just a couple of hours. "Wait, are you his master, the Resistance member? The one who had been captured by the First Order?"

Poe's entire face lit up like the sun. He laughed in triumph. "Yes, I knew he would make it!" 

Sora didn't have time to prepare herself for the attack. Two strong arms pulled her into his hard chest. One hand was buried in her hair, another one pressed against her lower back to keep her as close as possible. She could hear his excited heartbeat pounding against her ear. Her whole body shook as he chuckled wholeheartedly. "Oh, I could kiss you right now, princess. But I do want to live, so..."

Gently pushing her back, the hug ended before Sora even had the chance to process what had just happened. "What in the Maker's name...," she mumbled but Poe had already stormed past her straight into her home. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

Quickly following him, the young woman entered Rey's hut to see Poe searching the place. "BeeBee-Ate! Where are you?" But the cute droid was nowhere to be found.

"They should have been back by now," Sora voiced, eyebrows raised in question. Sunset was close and it was extremely unusual for Rey to stay outside this late. Especially now that they had a plan to execute in mere hours. 

Poe whirled around, desperation in his voice. "What? Who?"

"My friend Rey took your droid with her on a job," she explained deep in thoughts. "Rey never takes this long though. I have a bad feeling about this."

Poe exhaled harshly, running a hand though the mess of black curls on his head. "We need to look for them. I need to bring BeeBee-ate back to the Resistance as soon as possible. The First Order can't find him first."

Sora nodded, pushing her worry for Rey into the back of her mind. She knew her friend could take care of both herself and the little droid. However, the smuggler had first-hand experiences with the ruthlessness of the First Order. Rey and BeeBee-Ate alone wouldn't stand a chance against hordes of stormtroopers and possibly Kylo Ren himself. 

Then, anger rose to the surfaces, directed at only one person. "I know exactly where to start looking," she scowled, clenching her jaw.

******

"Open the damn door, Unkar."

Arms crossed over her chest, Sora stood in front of Unkar Plutt's home. Poe kept close to her, his arm brushing hers once again. It was dark and quiet outside, the majority of Jakku's population had retreated for the night already. Only a couple of Unkar's loyal lapdogs were guarding the perimeter, watching them closely.

"Who is that guy again?" Poe whispered in her ear, his warm breath hitting her cheek. 

"Big, ugly fella who thinks he owns the planet," Sora responded just as quietly, sighing softly. "Unfortunately for all of us, he kind of actually does. If anyone knows where Rey and your droid are, it's him."

Poe didn't have time to respond. Loud and angry footsteps echoed from inside the house. The door in front of them opened and a very angry Unkar Plutt stared down at Sora. "Well, well, well. Are you here to pay me back the thousands of credits your friend owns me? You're very brave to even show your face to me again." 

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see his guards stepping closer, hands on the blasters strapped to their belts. Poe must have noticed as well, for he too minimised the distance between them. His chest basically pressed against her back, his body being on high alert. She had a feeling he would have her back in whatever was about to happen. "I don't know what you're talking about," she answered honestly. 

Unkar laughed bitterly. " Oh, I'm sure you don't. Let me help you then. Your friend stole my ship."

Shock traveled through Sora's body. "What!?" 

"Yes. She took off with an astromech and another man in my ship." Realisation flashed in Unkar's eyes. "Oh you really had no idea. Well, sweetheart. She left you, now deal with it."

Rey had left. Without her.

Sora almost couldn't believe it. It didn't sound like something her friend would do at all. She was sure there was more to the story than Unkar had let on. The scavenger probably had no other choice but to leave. Whatever had actually happened, Sora trusted Rey. She trusted her judgement.

Poe wrapped his fingers around her arm, squeezing it gently in reassurance. He must have sensed her inner turmoil. 

Taking slow, threatening steps closer to the duo, Unkar send them a glare full of hatred. "You're either going to pay me back the credits for the ship or I am going to kill you and your new friend."

Quickly using the hand that was still grasping her arm, Poe pulled Sora back, shielding her body with his. "Whoa buddy, I'm sure there is another way to solve this predicament. Why don't we discuss this with a nice drink, huh? Just the three of us. No guards, no weapons."

But the young woman knew Unkar was not the type to sit down and have a chat. No, his threats were never empty. Luckily for them, Sora had a knack for getting out of situations like these. She had lost count of how many times she had to come up with stupid but ultimately successful plans (well, at least most of the time) on the spot. 

Subtly moving her eyes to scan their surroundings, it took her mere seconds to notice that Unkar's four lapdogs, who were now uncomfortably standing close, were concentrating on Poe, obviously (and stupidly) completely overlooking her. They were underestimating her because she was a woman which caused her to let out a barely noticeable scoff. 

A visible object in Unkar's backyard caught her attention next. The Millennium Falcon was nowhere to be seen, meaning Ray had stolen it. However, relief flooded her at the sight of another spaceship. An old Gauntlet Starfighter. Admittedly, it looked to be in very bad shape, even from far away. If Rey's speeder was a pile of junk, this ship was a whole junkyard. Hell, she wasn't even sure it was still functioning. However, it was a chance they would need to take and make do with. 

Slowly, Sora let her fingers brush against Poe's before she took his hand in hers, giving it a quick squeeze. She prayed to the Maker he understood the meaning behind her gesture. 

The squeeze she received back let her known that he was at least aware of her having formed any kind of plan. And that he was ready to go along with it.

"Who do you think I am," Unkar hissed, eyes fully focused now on the pilot as well. "Do you think I am a fool or-"

Sora didn't waste anymore time. Letting go of Poe's hand, she used the element of surprise to kick the guard closest to her where it hurts the most. With a grunt, he fell down to his knees, holding his groin. It gave her enough time to grab the blaster from his belt and shoot him in his chest. 

Quickly whirling around, blaster raised in front of her, she saw Poe had already taken out the second guard. Just as she had anticipated, both the third and fourth guard were now pointing the blasters at the pilot, completely ignoring her. It made her slightly frustrated but she didn't have to time to dwell on it. 

Sora knew (or desperately hoped) that Poe could take care of the guards on his own. Therefore, she opted to focus on Unkar, pointing the blaster straight at his face. It hadn't gone unnoticed by her that the junk boss himself was not carrying his own weapon. A stupid mistake. 

"I have waited two years for this moment," the smuggler said, the corners of her mouth curving into a mischievous smile. 

Keeping the blaster in her left hand, still pointing at Unkar, she drew her right arm back as far as it could go. Putting the strength of her whole body into it, she threw her fist forward. It collided against his jaw with a sickening crunch, causing his head to jerk to the side. He stumbled backwards into his house, his legs hitting some part of furniture. As a result, he fell onto bis back, his head hitting a table. The junk boss was out cold immediately. 

Sora cradled her right arm against her chest. Her knuckles were pulsing in pain but thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken. "This went much better than I could have wished for," she mumbled, staring at Unkar's unconscious body, a grin forming on her lips. "So much better actually."

"That was...impressive, princess."

Poe's voice brought her back to the present. Turning towards where he was now standing next to her, the rest of the guards already felt with, she found him staring at her in wonder. Mouth slightly agape, his eyes wandered from her, to where she cradled her fist, to where the junk boss laid on the ground and back. "No wait. That was hot. I definitely never want to get on your bad side." Smiling widely, he raised his hand to praisingly squeeze her shoulder once. 

Sora rolled her eyes, ignoring the warmth she felt spreading across her cheeks. "Thanks. That asshole had it coming a long time ago. If I had known it was this easy to knock him out I would have done so months ago."

"Oh, I can see that." Letting his hand fall back to his side, he strapped his blaster on his belt. "Since you obviously have a plan which has worked more than fine for us so far: What do we do next?"

Putting her own blaster away, Sora motioned for the pilot to follow her. "We get the hell away from this planet before more of his lapdogs arrive or big boss wakes up again."

Jogging past Unkar's home alongside her, the pilot nodded. "Right, but how do we-"

The words got stuck in his throat when they came to a stop in front of the old Starfighter. "You're kidding me right?" Stemming his hands against his hips, Poe groaned. "This looks even worse than that speeder of yours. Which is saying a lot, by the way."

He was right. The ship looked like it had crashed multiple times and was never repaired. Some parts were obviously missing, others barely hanging on. It didn't look safe at all. Sighing, Sora shrugged her shoulders. "I know. But we don't really have a choice," she admitted, her feet carrying her towards the already lowered ramp. 

"Right," Poe mumbled, reluctantly following her. 

The inside of the Starfighter was bigger than it looked from the outside. The hull of the spaceship contained a tiny refresher next to a small sleeping cabin with a bunk bed. There was a small table in the main area in front of the cockpit. The latter only consisted of two seats, one for the pilot and one for the co-pilot. Lots of sand littered the whole space but it still felt quite clean and was in much better shape than the outside. 

"This is actually not bad," Poe said, using his hands to swipe some sand from the consoles in the cockpit. "Let's hope this thing works." Sitting in the pilot seat, Poe fastened his seatbelts, excitement obvious in each movement. "You might want to sit down for this, princess. I doubt it will be smooth flight." 

Oh no, this would not do. Who did he think he was?

Sora furrowed her eyebrows, arms crossing over her chest. Confused, she stood right next to Poe, staring down at him with blazing brown eyes. "Who told you that you would be the one flying the ship?"

Fingers hovering over various buttons on the console, Poe stilled, tilting his head upwards to lock eyes with her. He chuckled softly. "You're looking at the best pilot in the Resistance. I think that definitely gives me the right to fly us out of here."

Sora scoffed. "And without me, you would still be stranded in the desert," she pointed out, unwilling to miss the opportunity to finally sit in the pilot's seat again. "Besides, I have years of experience in that seat as well. I'm probably even better than you."

"You have?" Clearly, Poe was surprised by the revelation, the argument forgotten for the moment. "What are you doing on Jakku then?"

"Long story. And totally not the point right now."

Poe raised his brow, staring at her wordlessly for a minute. Then, he sighed, expression softening. "Look, I don't doubt you're a good pilot. But do you know the exact location of the Resistance's base?" 

Sora's arms went slack, falling limply against her side. Damn it. He had a point. "Well, no. Beebee-Ate just told me it was in the Ileenium System."

Once again, Poe watched her in surprise. "He told you that? He must really like you then." The pilot almost seemed offended, as if the thought alone made zero sense to him. 

"Your droid is easily likable. Wish I could say the same about you."

"Dito," Poe retorted halfheartedly.

The two equally stubborn individuals were locked in a stare down, each unwilling to give up. Sora was leaning against the cockpit's console, her head and upper body tilted towards where Poe was sitting directly in front of her. There was barely any distance between them, both of their breaths hitting each others face, yet neither dared to move away. 

Coming to her senses, the smuggler felt her resolve fading. This was not the time for childish disputes. They had an important mission which could not wait. Plus, although she hated to admit it, Poe was right. It was the better choice to let him be the pilot. 

Straightening her shoulders, Sora exhaled loudly. "Okay, you've won." Rolling her eyes as Poe smiled smugly at her, the young woman moved to take a seat in the co-pilots chair, strapping herself in tightly. "What are you waiting for? Get us away from this damn planet, pilot."

Poe had the audacity to wink at her. "Your wish is my command, princess." Ignoring her annoyed groan, he quickly began to work, fingers pushing the various buttons with expertise. By some miracle, the engine roared to life, causing Poe to cheer. "Oh yes, baby," looking over his shoulder at Sora, he smiled happily. "Next stop: D'Qar." 

The Starfighter rose above the ground slowly, rattling from side to side unsteadily. Sora held on tight to the arms of her seat and watched as the desert grew smaller and smaller underneath them, until all that she could see were the stars around them. The sight took her breath away instantly. It had been too long since she had last experienced it. 

As they entered hyperspace, a deep longing within her rose to the surface; A longing for her past life, from before she had stranded on Jakku. Up in the stars, she felt free again. Free to go wherever she wanted to. Free to do whatever she wanted to. 

Maybe once this mission was done, she could be herself again.

*****

Hope you liked the first chapter! There are quite some similarities between Poe's and Sora's story. I don't know about you, but I think this will make bonding a little easier:)

[cloudninetonine]

Man, seeing those asks about a very nervous Player who just works to earn their keep reminds me of an old idea that just some angst.

It's been almost three months, the Chain isn't much closer to solving this mystery than they were when Player was added to their group. The group figured that this was the shadow's way of throwing them off, but tossing a helpless civilian from a whole other world at them. As much as it would have been safer to leave them in a town, it would be more beneficial if they came with them.

Player doesn't know a lick about fighting beyond throwing a wayward kick or punch, but they do know how to do a myriad of other things! They had a lot of niche hyperfixations throughout their life, so they knew how to do conventional and unconventional things like creating makeshift items, picking locks, making notebooks, solving puzzles, sewing, advanced first aid, psychoanalyzing people, and the like.

So they did what they did best and aided the Chain in things they couldn't do with their own unique skillset. In the field they've repaired clothes and solved puzzles in dungeons, and in towns they've discerned good merchants from bad and taking junk that stands didn't want and made them into something useful.

It all seems to be little things to Player, but the Chain has noticed how much smoother their journey has been going along. When they've questioned each other about it, there was always a confused looks and a head shake, paired with a "I don't do that."

That's when they realize that it's Player. The quietest one of their group who never talked for long if ever. The one who avoided looking into their eyes and would only a mutter a small "You're welcome" when they were thanked for their help before fleeing into the background. They wondered why their newest companion was so set on keeping to themselves, some believed it was because they were shy, or simply because they weren't a talker. Either way, they planned on getting to know them. After all, it would be rude not to.

But they never could comprehend how the Player would feel so alone despite always befling surrounded by heroes.

I feel like at least two of them would try and prod their newest member.

Well, ow, is all I gotta say JDNNWKKXS I RELATE TO THIS SO MUCH

Lowkey feel the boys would take it as a challenge, not a cruel one but they want to help their quietest member as much as they can and they want to see what they can do!

A challenge to get Player out of their shell, how hard can it be? (Harder than they expect)

[silvergolddraco28]

Sunrise - open LMK ROLEPLAY

looking for a Macaque

Inspired by the Sundown AU

Please comment or PM me if interested and i will give you an invite to my discord group and which includes any other open role-plays i have.

()()()()

‘Okay let's take stalk of what’s happened Mk… you visit Monkey King to help him clean out his vault/hoard/junk room and end up passing out and waking up outside of a city that is run by the Bull family in your simple monkey form. You proceed to run around and find that the city has far more demons than people and the people are treated like a second class with any ‘hybrids’ simply given silent treatment. You book it for the closest computer and find out this is a completely different world where Monkey King is the Emperor of the three realms with Macaque as his ‘Empress’ and co-regent of FFM. You still have your Monkey King’s staff and your glitchy shadow staff plus your demon strength, sight, smell, and your limited hearing under the muffling spell… So how in the fuck do I end up in a situation like this!?!’ a young teen thought protecting a pair of human siblings from an angry demon merchant. “Hey! Pick on someone who can take it!” the teen snapped, arms out to the sides.

“Step aside brat! Those pathetic humans need to be taught a lesson!” the demon glared at the teen.

“Their just kids. Any lesson you might have in mind for them will either cripple or kill them.” the teen countered having been in the world long enough to know that violence was much more ‘welcomed’ in this place than peaceful resolutions of his own world. ‘Gods this place follows a more demonic way than the celestial way.’ Mk had long ago acknowledged since Monkey King had never been ‘properly’ humbled to value ‘all’ life and not just his own subjects' lives.

The demon threw the first punch out in rage and Mk retaliated easily slapping the punch away with a hand surprising the small crowd that a demon as small as him could slap away a punch from a demon that was three times his size. The merchant demon, a tiger, roared in outrage before attacking the teen. Mk easily dodged, slapped, and returned his own attacks with ease in mild confusion. ‘Have I always been this strong or is it because I'm in my monkey form?’ Mk thought bending backward to dodge another punch before jabbing two fingers into a pressure point infused with orange energy into the tiger’s arm making it go limp. “Dont worry. You’ll be able to move your arm again in about a week.” Mk curtly stated his tail lazily swishing behind him.

The tiger growled and pulled out a sword from his hip and swung. Mk reacted on instinct pulling out an a dark purple staff from his shadow holding it out in front of himself to stop the sword dead in its tracks while ripples of orange energy flowed off the teen in nearly suffocating waves his left eye glowing gold while his right glowed a deep royal purple his single tail splitting into three with sunset orange tips while his ears elongated and spread into three sets of a gradient sunset. A red and gold mask spread along his face in the shape of a fiery heart while the symbol of a solar eclipse formed on his forehead.

”Back Down.” Mk all but ordered the demon tiger showing off his impressive monkey fangs that had lengthened in response to his burst of power. ‘Damn it! I gotta book it before Mr. Spooky Shadow comes sniffing my trail!’ Mk thought as he knocked the Tiger away and booked it at inhuman speed out of the market area.

He ran for quite a bit before stopping on a rooftop letting his ears twitch and listen before he sighed in relief. “Looks like that power burst didn't summon the Sun from his Palace.”

[finalcomics]

Lan in a Jiangshi outfit for Halloween!

[januaryembrs]

PAST LIVES | Kylo Ren x Ex-Jedi!Reader

Request: For the drabble idea :3c Kylo Ren x Reader were lovers at the Jedi Academy. After The Incident reader believed he had been killed, reader ran away from Luke/the resistance and never knew he became Kylo. Their paths cross again, and he recognizes the reader, but reader does not recognize him until he reveals his face.

description: lost love is sweeter when it's finally found. I've got the strangest feeling, this isn't our first time around

Word Count: 1.5k

Trigger warnings: children nearly dying, choking (violently), gun shots, saber fight, kylo ren

main masterlist

Life had been peaceful for the last five years. Peace and quiet ofcourse came as a package deal with living a life of near solitude on a remote planet, with a tiny community being the only people you spoke to. They knew you as the mysterious stranger that had practically crash landed in their crop field the first day you arrived, but they were kind enough to nurse you back to health and stitch up the scorch mark that now marred your face.

They didn’t ask many questions of where you came from, just reassurance that whatever it was that had done that to you wasn’t wishing the same fate for them, which you swore it wouldn’t. You had surely gone far enough that they couldn’t find you, though the guilt of leaving Luke and the other Jedi at the temple to face Ben’s wrath alone had weighed heavier on your heart than any saber cut or burn ever could. 

You had fled the second you’d seen his eyes; what were once calm waters had looked at you with the fury of a mad man. That was not your Ben. Never your Ben. 

Luke had practically shoved you into a discarded solo jet to get to safety, leaving you no choice but to abandon the only family you had ever known. You were too much of a coward to go back all these years later to see the aftermath of that wretched day.

Life on Sorgen was happy enough. There was only so much excitement to be garnered from Krill farming and you much preferred the livelihood of the trading docks than tending to the tiny, blue creatures in the pools surrounding the village. But you always remained aware, sceptical. Always kept an eye over your shoulder for any first order spies wishing to bring a stop to your slice of peace. 

It was a nice enough life, but it was never the one you’d had planned. You had been destined for greatness once, and greatness never came from krill farming or wasting your days with your tail between your legs. You had wanted a life with him. Oh, Him. 

You spent your day as you did most week beginnings by searching through the newest shipments being brought into the market place from the inner rim planets, mostly smuggled junk that could provide useful for the people in your village. You handed a few credits to the tender, pocketing a new blaster for the woman you neighboured who had complained she was beginning to feel uneasy with the conflict being brought to the outer rim planets between the first order and the resistance. 

Just last week had seen a stand off in the same market place you were now stood in. A merchant accused of housing resistance spies and smuggling them radios to contact home base. But you kept your nose well out of it, knowing you were more valuable to the first order than any damn radio. 

You were picking over a round of blaster bolts when they came. 

Tens of in-sync footsteps met your ears, trunching in unison through the dirt streets, the sound getting closer. 

Then the screaming started.

Your head shot up as blaster fire began ricocheting off the walls further down the small town. A small group of villagers emerged around the corner that the chaos had originated, some holding children tightly to their chests, others making a break for it alone. It was then clear to you the source of the violence.

A troop of first order soldiers rounded the corner, their blasters drawn and loaded, shooting at anyone getting too close to their squadron. The ones at the front began flipping over market stands, rummaging through crates, kicking down doors to canteens and, by the sounds of it, eliminating every possible target inside the buildings too. 

“Where is the resistance spy?” One of them roared through his vocoder at a bystander. She shook her head in freight and hesitance. You felt your chest constrict with something dark when he raised his blaster and shot through her chest mercilessly. 

It was then that your mouth dropped open. There was nothing stopping the first order once they had a lead to follow, you’d heard of entire planets being destroyed for such an offence as harbouring resistance.

You wanted to flee, like you had all those years ago. Turn tail and run far away from any sign of the people that eradicated your family, ruined your life. That took him from you. 

Your feet spun on your heels, ready to make a break for the treeline to hopefully avoid them, when you saw him.

He was dressed head to toe in black, like an omen of death, wearing a mask reminiscent of the one they called Vader. The red saber in his hand only confirmed the worst of your fears, that this figure was not someone to be meddled with, that they must be powerful in the force to be granted the weapon of the Sith. 

The reaper-like figure reached out a single hand, and without much effort lifted two children into the air and cutting off their airways. The young boys choked loudly, grasping desperately at their necks to try and pry the invisible hand away from them as the figure yelled at their mother, demanding information. 

You felt the littlest boy slipping away, felt his life force dimming as his skin began turning purple. No, You thought desperately, your fingers twitching to grab your own saber stashed in your pocket, Please no.

Ren was about to deliver the final blow, his fingers tightening and ready to snap their necks if their hysterical mother didn’t give him the answers he wanted. What he wasn’t prepared for was the recognizable sound of another lightsaber being ignited through the crowd.

His own head whipped to the source, seeing his troops begin shooting at one single target in unison. A few dropped to the ground limp as the shots were deflected back at them, but what really made his mind tick was how four troopers were flung through a stone wall with a small flick of your hand.

An experienced force user, it seemed. 

He shoved his way through his squadron, cutting down his own men who did not move out of his way fast enough. He seemed to have caught a rat in his trap, maybe they even knew where the resistance was. 

The ultramarine hue of the saber reflected off his men’s helmets, and he drew his own weapon in front of him in preparation. 

You dodged every shot they gave you, swinging your saber naturally between your fingers as if the whole thing was a dance. You moved smoother than water, your footwork delicate yet precise as you cut down the troopers and gave the young boys the respite they needed to escape. 

It wasn’t until you felt the darkness in him that the chill ran up your spine, making you whip your head to his figure, just in time to shield yourself from the ignited saber swinging down at you.

Your weapons crackled with pure energy as they met, a dreadful crash of thunder reverberating through the market as the two of you pushed against one another. 

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, murderer,”  You hissed, using your free hand to flick the blaster shots away from your vulnerable side.

Kylo Ren froze. It wasn’t until you kicked him square in the stomach and sent him stumbling back he caught a look of your face, one he could never forget even if he tried. 

The scar had healed badly, cutting through the entirety of your left cheek and barely missing your eye. Your eyes, your beautiful eyes he loved, he’d once cherished, that looked at him as if he hung every star in every world in every galaxy, that frowned at him with such disdain and hatred now. 

You. Oh maker it was you.

You advanced on him again, swinging with an anger he had missed, though he’d admit you caught him in his astonishment and he narrowly avoided being cut through himself. 

And so it went; you attacking, him merely defending, as you also used your good hand to defend yourself from his troopers. He wanted to scream at them to stop fighting you, to leave you alone, but Snoke would have his head for being so merciful to an enemy.

“Fight me!” You yelled, swinging harder, moving faster. “You cut down innocent children just fine, but a worthy opponent joins and you waver,”

“Stop,” He pleaded, his chest tight with indifference as to what to do. The fury was clear on your face, curling it up into a grimace that made you a snarling animal. 

“Fight me,” Your voice ordered, though he could tell you were tiring of the chase. 

He saw his chance when your right side was unguarded and he was able to hook the back of your leg and throw you to the floor. 

In the time it had taken for you to jump back to your feet, his hands came up to his helmet, ripping the mask off his defeated face. 

The growl slid off your visage immediately. It was Ben. Your Ben. Your Ben, who you had left amongst the massacre five years ago, who you loved with every fibre of your being, who you were supposed to marry someday, that's what he told you. 

“Ben,” You whispered. He felt the air whoosh out of him, what was he supposed to say to you. You would be so disappointed in the darkness he had followed, the path he had chosen. 

The two of you were so occupied with staring at your past lives that it was no wonder you heard the blaster shot until it was too late, and the heat of the charge cut through your stomach with no remorse, and you fell to your knees.

[abimee]

we all know the story by now Tock, full name Tick-Tock Tutti, was named that because she was born beneath a grandfather clock, as her mother enjoyed making clocks and was told it was a waste of her crafting skills to make useless decorative junk, so when she was left all by herself to give birth to Tock all she heard in the room was the tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, of the grandfather clock that hung over her head, for Tock didn't make a sound when she was born into this world

it works with their family last name, being Tutti --- its believed that Tutti was a fake last name chosen by their great great grandmother some time ago when she first opened shop, for Tutti meant ''all sing together" in a musical sense. Music fell out as a family ''skill'' as everyone looked forward trades as a way to make money, so the Tutti name lost its meaning to being more known as a merchant name, but originally personified how the family all worked/loved/lived together as a unified whole, of everyone singing the Tutti song.

this would crop back up with Tock, who had a proficiancy in music and not much else, and even struggled in basics like math and reading. She was not liked by any of her family besides her mother and another ostracised aunt, so the Tutti name for Tock soon became more about the people she met than her family unit -- whoever crossed Tock's path was another voice in her song, and she strived to have the world sing together in a ''tutti'' with her accordion

Tock would keep the musical theme until the very end, when her mysterious ''trait'' of hearing the ''music'' of other people turned out to be an entelechy behavior, the only other entelechy she would be being the creature Meteion

Which funnily enough paired well, with how Tock was the sort of Alkonost to Meteion's Sirin, like this painting by Viktor Vasnetsov

since Tock's life was always about singing the joy of the world even in the hardest moments, because she wanted to capture every song before it could end 👍

[collegeoflore]

If Xarrai and Ieriyn had their own tents at camp, what would they look like? What kind of items and decorations would you find in and around their tents?

xarrai’s tent would be a disaster. well, the tent itself would be pretty - deep blue or purple fabric with gold embellishments, surrounded by a plush rug and a pile of pillows - but their space would be a cluttered mess. empty (?) liquor bottles tucked into a corner, pretty crystals or stones they’ve found (or stolen) used as paperweights for scraps of parchment they’ve doodled or written on, a precarious stack of books (many of which they’ve nabbed from gale’s tent) leaning against a little table, nice jewelry taken off of corpses or picked from merchants’ pockets lying half-discarded when they decided it didn’t suit their taste. it’s generally chaotic, but it’s a chaos they can make some amount of sense of. the inside of their tent would be a little more orderly - stacks of paper organized in a corner (sheet music? poetry? they don’t let anyone get close enough to find out), their bedroll spread out and supplemented with a couple extra pillows, maybe a couple of nicer goblets they’ve hoarded (one of which is likely being used as an ashtray lmao)

canonically xarrai doesn’t really have Their Own Space in camp tho - they spend their evenings at one of their companions’ tents or playing their lyre next to the fire (or some combination thereof) and all of their chaos is just. spread across the whole camp lol. there are clothes and jewelry at astarion’s tent and books at gale’s and bottles they stashed after the tiefling party at karlach’s and so on; everyone has Some piece of xarrai’s junk they’re responsible for. everyone is very surprised when they get to the elfsong in act 3 and find that xarrai fits their entire pre-tadpole life into a couple of trunks LMAO (the secret is they just lose things constantly. other than a handful of things they’re precious about anything else can and will just be lost to the ether of their life bouncing between inns and taverns in the city)

ieriyn would have a similarly chaotic tent LMAO he’s just a messy boy and he’s not used to having to keep up with it himself - he grew up in a house that had staff to take care of that. his tent is probably red and gold and looks fairly opulent and pretty, tho i imagine around act 2 or so he would either switch to smth a little more practical or like, stop taking as good care of it and let it get a little dirty/beat up. he constantly has a million books laying around though, a handful of plants, some pillows and blankets on his rug, a little alchemy station with a mess of ingredients and empty bottles around it (he’s not great at alchemy but he’s trying his best lol), a nice little mirror maybe? he leaves his dirty clothes all over the place at too, until someone gets fed up and teaches him to do his own laundry lmao.

ieriyn i do think would canonically have his own little tent area, even though he’s definitely spending a lot of time at gale and wyll’s tents too. he Does mostly keep his mess to himself at least (as long as he’s not helping gale make dinner. he does make a giant mess of that LMAO)

[pinklocksoflove]

Meet the captain of the HMS Harwich

Captain Amos Darroh 

He's loyal, light-hearted, proud and perhaps a little too rash. Which isn't out of the ordinary for someone with his position.  Born to a poor family in a large port city along Lanayru bay. In an effort to earn a better life for his family he enlisted in the Royal Navy and within only a few years in many pitched naval battles against pirates and marauding vessels of cobbled together junk manned by bokoblins, Amos earned rank and notoriety however during a particularly harsh engagement his ship was struck by a bomb cannon and the shrapnel mortally wounded him, barely surviving he was honorably discharged from service and more than earned enough wealth to propel his family into the upper class, however he still yearned for adventure on the seas and purchased his own vessel, the HMS Harwich and continues to serve alongside navy vessels in battles against pirates as well as making merchant runs for extra coin and supplies. He happily accepted the task of taking on the expedition, while a bit leery about Nafiif’s modifications to the ship, he isn’t complaining now with the new coal fueled engine and several new bits of tech incorporated in the ship 

[spiribia]

your posts about GW2 make me tempted to play it. any advice for a new player?

i don’t really have any strict tips for a beginner beyond that i hope you have fun. i think it’s a very ‘whatever you like to do is viable and no one really bats an eye’ type of game for its open world content, especially early on. you can equip different weapons to get totally different combat skills, and alt characters are easy to establish with gw2’s system if you want to try a different class or character or early story paths. you can always click ‘sell junk’ when at npc merchants – the clutter it clears out of your inventory doesn’t really serve any other purpose.

a little bit of etiquette that wasn’t apparent to me immediately – when you ‘die’, you enter a downed state where you are given select skills and need to mash them to try and survive. any other players can help resurrect you as well, regardless of specialization. if you succeed, you pop back to life. if you don’t, you will progress to a second downed state (I’ve seen this referred to by players as “full dead”) where your only remaining options are to wait, or instantly resurrect yourself at a waypoint. when you’re “full dead” during a big combat event, it’s often faster and more ‘proper’ to just use the nearest waypoint and then head back to the boss if it’s simple enough to make your way back, as it takes other players way longer to rez a full dead player than one that is in the first downed state, and most won’t bother to do it during a busy combat situation. likewise, if you see another player with a light blue downed icon (first downed state) in a combat situation, they should be a higher priority for you to help than a player with a dark blue/black downed icon (full dead). I probably overexplained this one thing, but it’s probably the one unintuitive thing for me when I was starting

feel free to ask me if you do have any questions, though!