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#do it for Funeral of Dead Butterflies
homiu-l · 18 days
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agent-gladhand · 25 days
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JACKPOT!
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sootythwack · 1 year
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I fell to my knees
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wintersarthell · 6 months
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he feels like a fem queen
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amxthystiine · 4 days
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I’m still going on this insane little steam train of mine I may even fuckin animate it (oh and logo jumpscare)
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hwashitape · 2 months
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the LCB roadmap is crazy… spoiler fairy KJH… he knew what I'd give for Yi Sang
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smalldumbpigeon · 3 months
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another isat x projmoon with Loop as Funeral of the dead butterflies
i want to do these for more isat characters i just have to think really hard about it first
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edit: snippet from Funeral's story
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blingblong55 · 2 months
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The end is here...right?-Simon "Ghost" Riley
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photo credit @ave661 middle pic Not edited at all!! ---- F!Reader, angst? idk, cheating ---- A/N: honestly, don't even ask me what this is, I felt the need to write this very late at night...so I'm sorry
"I love you." Oh, what a miserable way to begin the end of this love story. How did it end? How did his smiles, kisses and most importantly those eyes that shined when they looked at you end? Why must love be this evil? Soon, after this funeral you and he will walk away and be strangers once more.
One more glance, maybe one that explains why he fell out of love. Maybe it is a hopeful word for a fool like you. If only love was a joke, at least one you understood but it isn't and now you're dying in a room whilst the walls scream at your foolish heart. Can you pretend he never existed? Can you call him and have him there as he holds your lifeless heart? This book that you made wasn't one for the weak. This book was made for those who needed a reminder that they needed to leave. Was it toxic to have him love you that much and then rip it away from you just before you told him the dreams you wanted to have with him? Was it evil that you had already planned a life with him? or was it vile to have you this in love with the idea of a man who couldn't love you like you wanted?
There will be a day when he fades but today isn't that day for he tattooed his name on your heart for the next millennia to see…to whisper about when they hear the chapel weep for a love that it never got to seal. Oh, what a cruel man must Simon but to have you in bed, to kiss your body like there was no other woman for him. Wise men do say death is best when it isn't by the hand of the lover. If only he warned you about him.
His smile will forever be engraved in you just like his lips will be left with scars that once were butterflies on you. "I'm not a good man, love," he once told you and oh what a fool were you when you didn't listen. Did the weeping willow tree not warn you? "You're in terrible danger." it once said but you brushed it off.
His things are still there, his jacket on the chair like the night he came home and hugged you. Did you know it'd end with you waiting for him to come home again? He was here to destroy you and what a job he did.
Maybe someday, in an alternate universe, he hadn't left you for her. Maybe he would have stayed and completed the dreams you once had. And just perhaps you'd be religious to thank whatever is out there for him.
Tonight you curse whatever is out there.
He was never to keep, maybe he should told you that.
Does he love her like he did you? Maybe he kisses her shoulder but does he move the furniture so he can dance with her in the middle of a drunken midnight? Midnight…hm..what a time to be dead and buried with his memories on your headstone.
He was yours.
He was meant to be yours.
Will you one day confess you left the front porch light on in case he needed a guide back home?
"Forgive me, I have sinned. I committed murder, not literal murder but of my own heart," you whisper to the altar you never got to say your vows to. And maybe she'll hear his vows but you swear yours are sweeter than hers.
As the midnight falls, you aimlessly walk to the haunted chapel. The rain pours as you look at the windy sky. You sigh and maybe that should've been your last one for what is life if not with him.
You don't need much, just need him. Maybe you can sacrifice anything…for the love of all hell… sacrifice anything to get him back.
As you sit on the stairs of the chapel, you look dishevelled. There is a ring on your hand. The one he gave you one Christmas when you mentioned you liked the design of one. What a cruel idea that must've been. Your thumb runs over the designs and tears cascade down your face but it's oh so beautifully covered by the rain. "I love you, Simon. I…I fucking love you and it's killing me." you say before you break down in sobs. There's this feeling, the feeling when you cry too much your chest begs you to stop, where your head aches and your face begs to stop this pain.
You hold onto yourself, maybe this way you'll heal some of the love he took with him but it won't until you have him there.
Is it idiotic to want him back? Yes, but damn does it feel good to want him. So what if he broke your heart? Maybe no one understands this feeling. Maybe the poets were right.
You must let him go, it is killing this aching and weak heart of yours.
You do just that. The ring is left on the steps of the chapel and walk away. What an awful way to mourn the loss of his love. The rain will cover your tracks and maybe you can disappear for a little while.
Once you disappear, there is a shadow man who also mindlessly walks to the steps of the chapel. He sits down on the same steps you did. In his heart, there is a funeral that is happening. He lost something…someone. This man is bitter. There is a sour taste he leaves wherever he goes. Does he know the sour taste he left in you?
There is a story that goes around about him and you know it better than those that tell the story.
As he sits there, he looks at his hands. Did he kill his lover? Not physically…well…yes and now but he killed her heart. He is the doctor that collects hearts and he has yours in a golden jar.
As he looks down, he finds the ring he gifted you. As his eyes wander around the area, you are never to be found at least not anymore and maybe he will find you in his dreams. That's the last place you haunt with that ever-lovely smile he oh so adores.
Those who love are fools struck by Cupid.
He holds the ring and lets his thumb run through the designs he will never craft for another lover. He hums and shuts his eyes. If angels were real, they'd pity him and put him out of his misery.
There was a film about this kind of love out there and maybe you two are fools recreating it but adding real emotions into the mix.
"I love you, even if you'll be the end of me," he whispers as he sighs and lets the tears fall.
The end is here…and it wants to sweep you away but Simon clings to you. Was there another woman? No, he lied and it was a damn good lie so he'd let you live the life he can never give you. He is a bump, a major one at that, in your life and maybe one day, you'll forgive him when you sit down with the actual man of your dreams.
Love, what a stupid word.
A/N: not tagging anyone because I don't even know what this is anymore
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mars-and-the-theoi · 1 year
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Low energy Devotional Acts for when you don’t have a lot of energy (or time, or money, etc.)
💀Thanatos💀
- listen to a devotional playlist for Him
- listens to ‘dark ambient’ soundscapes
- learn about butterflies
- if able, visit a cemetery
- learn about the work that death doulas, hospice workers, funeral directors, morticians, cemetery caretakers, and grief counselors do
- if able tend to the grave of a loved one (tidy it up, bring new flowers/decorations, etc.)
- talk to deceased loved ones (doesn’t have to be anything fancy- I talk to my dead dog all the time I say good morning to him and when we leave I tell him we’ll be back etc. whatever you wanna tell them you tell them!)
- learn the stages of grief and how complex grief is
- if interested and able (I know this can be touchy) learn about the process of dying and what happens to the body after death
- learn about what you can have done to your body after death- there’s lots of interesting options out there! Burial at sea is still very much a thing that can be done, I didn’t know that until I got curious and looked this stuff up!
- if able and willing talk to your loved ones about what your wishes are for when you die- what do you want to happen to your body, what do you want your funeral to be like, etc. (I include this because I used to work in assisted living and nothing is worse than your family just not knowing what your wishes are for when you die, I’ve heard too many horror stories)
- learn about death magic and spirit work
- learn about the Victorian era spirituality craze (like the uptick in things like seances and all that, it’s all very interesting)
- learn about the many ways to communicate with the dead
- destigmatize death- death has become a very hush-hush subject which doesn’t really do us any favors in my opinion so don’t be afraid to talk about it, talk about your wishes, etc.
- learn about funerary practices throughout history and around the world
- learn about the meaning of death throughout history and around the world
- listen to songs about death
- read poems, books, plays about death- there’s a lot of them and they’re quite interesting
- watch movies/shows about death (my personal favorite is the seventh seal)
- if able and willing reflect on your own thoughts and feelings on death (can be death in general, about your own mortality, etc.)
- look up cemetery symbols and symbolism! And whenever able do a cemetery scavenger hunt
- wear black
- learn about how to help someone who is grieving
- listen to goth music
- be kind to spirits
- learn about haunted locations
- read ghost stories (idk if this counts but my personal favorite is The Legend of Sleepy Hollow)
💤Hypnos💤
- listen to a devotional playlist for Him
- listen to calming soundscapes
- learn about symbolism in dreams
- learn about the stages of sleep
- if able establish and practice good sleep hygiene
- learn about good sleep hygiene
- if unable (or you have a hard time sleeping) look up calming and quiet activities you can do instead
- listen to calming music
- if able make your bedroom into a cozy safe space
- learn about herbs and plants with calming and/or sleep inducing properties
- if able donate some bedding you don’t use anymore (even animal shelters will take some! Bedding is always in high demand in all sorts of places so if you’re needing to unload some this is the chance to do it!)
- learn about our sleep cycles and the circadian rhythm
- if you have young family members (kids, little siblings) tuck them in and/or read them a bedtime story
- if able slow down and rest
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theminecraftbee · 7 months
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Joel sits awkwardly at a family dinner table that isn’t for him.
It’s nice and all, he reckons, for Impulse’s family to invite him over after he leaves the hospital. Even before—everything—Joel’s family hadn’t really been the “big meal around a big table” type, so he’s getting some new experiences here too. And it’s nice and all, that they want to thank him for his role in finding Skizz.
But like. It’s not like he or Impulse or Skizz could explain how it happened, when asked. “Magic brain ghosts” and “evil butterflies” and “Joel still isn’t certain all of that was real and is trying to pretend it wasn’t” puts a damper on that. Also, adults are kind of shit at talking around the fact Joel’s whole family is dead, so he gets the sense he’s sort of harshing the vibes, you know?
Still. It’s a nice gesture. He guesses. It’s free food at least, which is decent, and as close as Impulse and Skizz are, every time one of Impulse’s family says something stupid, Skizz taps Joel’s leg with his foot or steals a roll or something, and it makes Joel feel…
He’d have been sad if Skizz had died, probably. Like, he wouldn’t know. He didn’t come here to make friends, he came here to get a degree and get out. Also, that’s stupid, because it’s not like Joel would have known he was missing a really awkward congratulatory family dinner in which Skizz kept on trying to sneakily steal beans. Probably would have just moved right on. He’s not… friendly.
But.
They stand outside afterwards, waving by to Impulse, promising to walk together so that neither of them Vanish. They’re quiet.
“Thanks, man. That meant a lot to them,” Skizz says.
“Yeah, well, I can do stupid things for free food,” Joel says.
Skizz laughs. “It was nice having you there, too. Man, they’re even worse with you! It’s like not knowing you means they’re even more awkward about family tragedy.”
“Trust me, most adults are way worse. You should see my social worker,” Joel says.
“Didn’t he ditch you, dude?”
“Haha, yeah, he did,” Joel says.
They stare up at the streetlamps together.
“I was really ready to go for a bit there,” Skizz says. Joel’s hackles raise. Oh no. Emotions. Bad. Go away. “It was like—man, it felt like the whole world was empty. But when you showed up, it’s like I remembered… I’d miss dinners, dude.”
“I have no idea why, that kinda sucked,” Joel says, baffled and sarcastic, because he’s a moron who can’t handle emotional conversations, this is why everyone avoided him at the funeral, stupid.
Skizz breaks out laughing.
“You’re great, man! I’m glad we met. Uh, my place is only a block away, and I won’t go following any stupid butterflies. See you at school?”
“Yeah man. See you,” Joel says—
I am thou.
Thou art I.
Thou hath formed a new bond.
With the power of the Chariot Arcana, you shall build the chains with which to hold on to reality.
RANK 1!
“What the hell?” Joel says, tripping over his feet. “What? What? Where did—what the fuck that wasn’t Pygmalion oh god do I have more than one voice in my head—”
“Dude, are you okay?”
Skizz’s almost frustratingly strong and comforting arms grab Joel.
“Tell me you heard that,” Joel says desperately.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I could take you back to the hospital—no?”
“I am either crazy or am going to end up in a government lab?” Joel says, voice getting high and squeaky.
“We can ask Mr. Hills about it? He came to talk to me after I woke up in the hospital, apparently he like, knows stuff,” Skizz says.
“I don’t wanna,” Joel says.
“Tough luck, buddy, you just almost fell over and cracked your head open!”
Suddenly, Joel remembers a long-nosed man and a blonde in a very blue boat. He remembers a cryptic conversation about bonds and power and their importance. He takes a deep breath. “Can you cover your ears for a moment?” he says.
“Yeah, sure thing, why—”
Joel, as loudly as he can, screams. He hears several birds fly away. He pants.
“…Joel,” Skizz says.
“Yeah thanks man don’t worry about it let’s never speak of this again I’m sure it’s nothing. I definitely didn’t have a weird dream about this and should go to bed.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever you say,” Skizz says cheerfully before laughing, which Joel continues grumbling about all the way back to his apartment.
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hellishgayliath · 7 months
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Clem’s Log
Hi big brother. Today’s March 10th I think? I’m not so great at remembering dates but Papa was dead set on it because that’s your birthday, it’s amazing how he’s able to remember stuff like that after all this time.
I know it’s been a while since we talked, ever since you left I had to take over bird scout duties and just never had the time to sit down and write. Everyone’s been on edge. Y’know I still hold onto that jar of cinnamon sticks you gave me. Started chewing on them out of habit whenever the anxiety and dread was getting to my head. They taste just like home..
Um..
Papa told me he saw you again.
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When he and a couple of the others were out on patrol with Mr. Leo and big sis Luci I mean COUSIN SERGEANT Luci haha, I think she’d resent me calling her that but I know she secretly adores me.
They said.. they said when they saw you you were.. already turned.
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You knucklehead I guess that’s why you left in the first place but to leave without saying anything to anybody?! You know Uncle Mikey would’ve helped you like he did with the others that were infected. Or did you already know that it would’ve been pointless? Don’t you at least owe your own little sister a goodbye?! Dummy dum dumdum..
Papa thought he could somehow magically get through to you, y’know make you remember who you were before life went crazy.
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I heard from Mr. Leo that Luci tried to stop Papa from acting like a idiot and getting himself killed. But she ended up getting hurt instead.
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Bad.
Next thing Papa knew, you and Luci were on the ground, with only one of you moving. Judging by Mr. Leo’s face when I saw him come in, he looked very torn and distraught about a very tough call he had to make. I can already guess what it was he had to do. Cousin Luci is in rough shape but insists on rejecting any medical help saying it’d just be a waste of time and resources. Doesn’t she know we’re just trying to help her? The dumdum… Don’t tell her I called her that. I just don’t want to lose her too.
Papa said he could’ve sworn he saw a little smile on your face when he cradled you. Maybe that’s you finally realizing you’re not being controlled by those monsters anymore and can now be at peace knowing you can’t hurt anybody else. At least that’s how I see it. It must have been terrifying to go through that alone.
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It’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not FAIR IT’S NOT FAIR
They said they couldn’t even bring your body back because of safety reasons and that it would put the base at risk of being tracked so I couldn’t even get to see you one last time!
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I miss my big brother, I miss your dumb goofy smile, I miss us having bug eating competitions and laughing at you nearly choking on a beetle, I miss falling asleep on each other while watching tv, I miss seeing you chase after the raccoons with a broomstick whenever they raided our trash cans, I miss the dogs, I miss the taste of fresh fruit, I miss our HOME! I just want this nightmare to be done with. I’m just so.. tired..
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Papa told me they at least gave him the chance to make a grave for you and to say his goodbyes. I should’ve been there with him saying them together.
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He just looks so defeated and sad. I insisted to him that we at least put together a funeral service for you so the rest of us can say our peace.
It was nice.
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Uncle Mikey and Bao combined their powers to transform the room into a beautiful recreation of a lush meadow full of butterflies and yellow daffodils while Mr. Tello played some lovely music he still had saved recorded in his tech. It was so tranquil it almost makes you forget for a second you’re in an apocalyptic hell scape.
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I think you would've loved it.
Talk to you again soon and happy birthday you numbskull. I love you.
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I miss you..
youtube
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literallys-illiteracy · 2 months
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The floor of technological sciences:
ahhhh i realised that the other one had some things that i wanted to change so i thought that i might as well upload it all in one post.
this one is longer than Malkuth's, shorter than Tiphereth's (i dont think that any are going to get to that length)
The harms of Technology, Capitalism and selling your soul to the devil:
i dont know if this title is better than the one i had before but i have a headache and cant be bothered titling it any better than this
Forsaken murderer was at one point in the past, a murderer on death row; rather than execution he served as a test subject so that scientists may learn how to cure a disease, though injections and chemicals his violent tendencies, along with humanity, were removed. 
Following these experiments he was no longer considered dangerous, as he had seemingly no intention to attack, meaning he was unrestrained, after this, the murder began having delusions, specifically of his head turning into metal (hence the EGO line for meursault) which caused him to begin bashing his head into solid objects - in the time following this, an incident occurred involving the murder of one of the researchers, leading to the murderer to be dissected.
Though the helper was designed to assist humanity, to recognise and assist human behaviour, it is never able to do so, its instruments being replaced with sharp blades rather than cleaning tools; The helper does not act from a will to help however, it simply follows its programming, there is no reason for it to question these instructions, rather it need just act them out as it was ordered.
Singing machine doesn't really have a backstory like others, it's simply the machine itself, and the obsession that it induces over its music; the noises produced are so addicting that those who seek it will sacrifice other employees into the grinder for it to continue; or, if we dissect it as a metaphor, the machine rewards those who willingly sacrifice others in order to succeed (yup its capitalism)
“They're bound to the company the moment they enter. Even if they do resign, they are doomed to stay here forever."
The Funeral of Dead Butterflies tells the story of a pious man who entered the company carrying a coffin to mourn those who could not leave, who soon became trapped inside the company walls himself, becoming a husk with burning memories of an empty faith.
The Funeral of dead butterflies can be separated into 3 thematic faucets, although all connecting back to the abnormality and floor as a whole.
The first is shown primarily in its, and the city’s, story as a whole: The concept of a corporatocracy.
As you enter the company, you sign the contract, you may never leave, even if one retires, they are bound to stay with the company forever.
The second is the funeral, formerly the religious man, coming to mourn those who’s souls are bound to these company walls, to act as a saviour; The Funeral too is trapped inside the company, slowly losing their sense of self, endlessly walking the halls without meaning.
The third is the Kaleidoscope of butterflies, the souls of those who were mourned in the company, trapped inside the confines of this coffin. 
The thematic of the butterflies is best demonstrated through a quote from the Abnormality’s story: 
“Butterflies are supposed to pollinate flowers, but not a single proper flower blooms in this place. There is no choice but to wait. After all, there must be an end to every world” 
In this, the Funeral of dead butterflies embodies the concept of death. Not only does it represent death in the sense of mortality, the Funeral relates to the concept of death and change, the embodiment of endings and new beginnings.
The butterflies being cocooned inside the coffin, the employees being trapped within the company; Through the ending of the company, the souls will be free to fly forth, to live as a human does, rather than a slave to those better off.
Der Freischütz, German for “The Freeshooter” is based off of figure in german folklore of the same name, who sold their soul to the devil for 7 bullets, the first 6 able to hit any target the marksman desired, but the last of which would only follow the will of the devil himself; a story of selling your soul 
In their backstory within Lobotomy Corporation, Freischütz, before taking this deal, murdered all their beloved, so that the destined bullet would have no target, yet in the end it pierced his heart. 
The Freischütz then wondered across different worlds, acting purely off of base impulse, having lost their soul long ago; The Freischütz did not only lose their soul when the devil pierced their heart, but when they gave up their loved ones in an attempt to trick the devil, but the devil seeks only suffering, which the Freischütz has long caused.
Floor Realisation links:
…I am Angela, your AI secretary whose role is to assist you in adjusting to your new workplace.
Linking Angela to our abnormalities of this floor, a new link begins to reveal itself, all linking back to Angela’s imprisonment, her lack of discretion throughout Lobotomy Corporation:
In her past, Angela was a puppet to the script, being directed, given orders she could not understand nor refuse; Her life written in stone, orchestrated by Ayin.
Though she was designed to assist the facilities, act as a helper, an assistant, she soon realised that she could not act on emotions.
Ayin’s script allowed no room for humanity, each step must be enacted as it was written, each order to be followed exactly and without question.
Though one may argue Angela to be cruel throughout Lobotomy Corporation, these sufferings were not made under her discretion, rather, this pain was merely an outcome of her script, the one she could never disobey.
After all:
A machine had no use for values. There was no point discerning between good and bad when the principles were already set in stone.
Though witnessing, causing and abiding by these sufferings, Angela was not in a place to question this, for she was in the same suffering as all others trapped within the company.
There was a time when I was sick of seeing any more death.
Despite Angela’s stoic nature throughout Lobotomy Corporation, Anglea was not willing in these sacrifices made in the plan, seeing countless, horrible gruesome deaths, yet shedding a tear would dampen the wings, and the play would reset; In this mourning, Angela embodies the funeral, yet should others not also mourn for her? Can the sufferings, the sacrifices made by others compare to how she has suffered? 
Angela was too mourned in the coffin, being trapped within the company, yet she was never allowed the rest that this confinement provided, she need endlessly fly towards the end, Angela is both the mourner and the mourned in this story, she is the butterfly inside the butterfly’s coffin inside the butterfly’s coffin (inside a bag of milk).
“Butterflies are supposed to pollinate flowers, but not a single proper flower blooms in this place. There is no choice but to wait. After all, there must be an end to every world”
And, just as the butterflies are meant to pollinate, those with a soul are meant to live freely, not confined inside the corporation, not dictated by a script, but with discretion and on their own accord; Just as the Funeral says, there is no life worth living within this place, so Angela must bring an end to her confinement, break free from her chains, and pollinate flowers i guess? 
A morbid script written for the purpose of treatment, and a machine slowly becoming numb in the act, losing her sense of guilt…
Along the course of her confinement, Angela’s sense of self withered away; Akin to the Forsaken murderer she was, for lack of a better word, forsaken, by the script, by her creator.
Though Angela suffered in their stead she was never rewarded, never applauded on the stage alongside the others; Chained to her role, never given a chance to live, never given a reason, her humanity began to erode, her guilt for these actions, her grief at witnessing these deaths faded, and in their place came a burning resentment, a hate towards those who put her here, who confined her, who decided that she would suffer before others, and that she would never be thanked for her role.
Just like the Murderer, Angela was trapped, an unceasing loop of ending, beginning, ends. Begins. Ends. Begins. Until… it ended, in a final rest for the murderer, and in the first life for Angela.
“Am I not allowed to help that person…? But they seem to be in so much pain…” …The sound of weakness.
reflecting the past of Lobotomy Corp alongside mirroring our current Angela, the singing machine represents her past, yet also her lack of reason. While she seeks freedom, she is a prisoner to the library, lacking any discretion, and suffering being the only path:
Angela was long a bystander to the machinations of Lobotomy Corporation, being powerless to help those who suffered for the greater cause, fed to corporation for Ayin’s plan, yet she also may manifest as the sacrifice herself; 
Angela was cast aside by Ayin, abandoned to be the only one in the machine, left aside even at the end, never hearing the melody that she suffered so long for; For this, in order to spite Ayin's plan, she now takes the role of the maddened employee.
We all take the sacrifice of others for granted, so that we can have immediate satisfaction.
Angela’s single minded nature mimics that of those employees who crave the song from the machine, entirely dedicated to pursuing this promised song, not caring for any consequences, never stopping to see what she has caused.
In essence, Angela’s quest for the one true book, makes her a slave to the library, being unable to live without it, no more free than completing Ayin’s plan, her single goal, her only motivation to continue living.
I came to a realisation; perhaps the last bullet was meant to puncture no one else but me.
Angela’s single minded desires, her loss of grief, and her sacrifice, both of others and herself, culminate in her taking on the EGO of Der Freischütz;
No matter how many lives would be lost for her ambitions, no matter how many innocents were in the line of her target, she would not hesitate to pull the trigger, to act out the script despite their suffering and to seek the one true book through the pain of others.
This sacrificing of innocents, this selfish act, is mirrored in the Freischütz bargain, their acceptance of this devil’s deal, their sacrifice of all they called beloved, and finally, of their soul.
Though Angela, as a machine, may not have been born with a soul, she is revealed to have one in the finale of lob corp, manifested through her desires to live, through the fragmented remains of her human nature, through her heart.
It is in this where the story of the Freischütz differs, whereas the bullet may have pierced Angela’s heart long ago, her soul was not claimed, she may have lost her humanity as she lived through her torment, yet she was not without emotions, she felt every second of pain, every moment of grief, of agony within these chains, the bullet never removing what she had not originally.
The finale of the Freischütz leaves them alone, without even the devil to whom they lost their soul, alone in the depths of this hell, much the same as Ayin planned for Angela in the end. 
The day I got my hands on this bullet, I sank down upon the ground. Was it despair that the Devil wished for?
In terms of thematics, Angela may resonate much closer to the Schütze, rather that the Freischütz, through the longing, the hope, that one day she may too become the cold machine, uncaring as the Freischütz: Angela, like the Schütze, may have hoped freedom through the loss of their soul, through the freedom brought about by nihilism (note to self, write essay about memento mori by William Woodium).
Not a sliver of impurity is allowed for the mind of those who mourn, it must remain reverent and solemn.
The Rationality to Maintain Discretion:
Gabriel: We thought relying on emotion wouldn’t help a thing. However, it became clear that to accept sadness was just as important. The false rationality we held and clung to only made our hearts rot. It is hard to accept at first. You’ll feel like you’d crumble in. But it’ll get better, I’m sure of it. - Yesod
Following Elijah's Death in the events before Lobotomy Corporation, Gabriel, now Yesod, suppressed himself, leaving only his rationality in stead of his emotions.
Gabriel began to be obsessed with safety, compulsively covering every part of his skin except for his head, ensuring that all rules must be followed perfectly, hoping that these rational precautions will be enough to prevent further death.
This obsession lead to psychosis, Gabriel believing that he was rotting from the inside, compulsively scratching at his skin until forced to take a medical checkup preceding his death.
Gabriel's death was caused though his obsessive rationality, believing that he should bury emotions, even those of mourning for Elijah, so that his decisions would not be clouded.
In holding to this false rationality, that he must suppress all his emotions, Gabriel, Yesod, mirrors his floor's abnormalities, foremost being the Der Freischutz.
"The despaired heart couldn’t go out in a passionate flame. It would only burn with a cold fire."
"Now I see; I have been wallowing in despair, for such a long time."
Akin to Angela, Yesod's relation is in the loss of ones soul, or wishing that they had; Gabriel attempted to bury his emotions, sacrifice his soul in the same manner the Freischutz did, to view all this death and suffering without a clouded mind.
The root cause of Gabriel's psychosis was wishing to not see suffering, to not witness the deaths of any others for the research, mirroring the position of Angela's beginning, and the story of the Funeral of dead butterflies, not wishing to see others suffer, yet losing ones self rather than mourning those who are lost to them.
Angela:
Similar to the way that Gabriel, or Yesod, hoped that rationality would be able to prevent death, Angela too wished to not see the death and horrors of Lobotomy Corporation, the reason that her eyes are closed in a majority of the game’s sprites.
Both Angela and Yesod were viewed as cold uncaring machines due to this trait within the events of the game, hoping that a cold emotionless approach would minimise suffering, thinking that clinging to their false rationality would bring the better future they wished for.
In the transition from Lobotomy Corporation to Library of Ruina, Angela begins to show more and more emotions, experiencing situations for the first time, acting without the puppeteer’s strings which controlled her for so long, she no longer needs to maintain her robotic facade.
Despite this, in the earliest sections of the game, Angela is unable to show the full depth of her emotions, attempting to seal the memories of her past behind, to not be driven by her irrational emotions, the same desire held by Gabriel before the events of the first game.
This suppression of emotions in pursuit of rationality is the same pitfall which held both Yesod and Ayin before her.
What Angela lacks is that of emotions, the drive behind her actions is which she views as rational, yet is driven by a suppressed hatred and sorrow, a buried past rearing its head to drive her forward. 
While Gabriel’s actions were driven from grief, the loss of Elijah, he maintained the view that he was driven by rationality.
Just like Gabriel in the past, Angela must uncloud her vision in order to pursue her dream of becoming a human
Thanks for reading, find the others of this series below:
Angela Floors:
<Malkuth>
Roland Floors:
<Tiphereth>
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had a tgcf and svsss crossover idea
ok so xie lian and hua cheng find this book (or whatever a book is in that universe) by an author named "airplane". wtf is an airplane anyways? so they start reading and its about a world a gajillion years in the future where there's paper that's made out of metal and it can change its image on will? and metal birds that carry people like swords except they're called airplanes and they're designed for the usage of many people at once??? why would the author name himself after that? chunks of metal with wheels that don't need horses???
"why dont they use cultivation" you ask, because there is none! so weird, right? anyways, they keep reading and there's so much stuff they call technology that's basically just magic. it's about an overpressured author who eats food that only needs water to be edible and sends his writing over an invisible spiderweb that covers the entire world. tbh, the author did a really bad job explaining all the "tech". overall a really stupid idea for a novel. xie lian honestly sorta likes it, but it's just wierd. the most odd part? these things keep coming out regularly. they're ridiculously long, and unlike other works from the same author, there's no sex scenes.
xie lian kinda likes it, and reads it every now and then cuddled up with hua cheng. hua cheng loves being next to xie lian, who giggles occasionally while reading, but hates the novel. somehow, shi qingxuan finds it, and shows it to ming yi, (shush leave me with my beefleaf) ming yi claims he doesn't like it but reads shi qingxuan's copy of that day's update every night. knows literally every detail, understands teh worldbuilding the best of anyone. feng xin and mu qing don't bother to read it, but they know a little about it.
one day, the next update is about someone who does something called a comment on his work. apparently, they do it a lot. and the character’s name is cucumber. who would name a character cucumber!? this author is weird. anyways the cucumber does a comment about a bunch of mean stuff critiquing the work and stuff. there are more than 3 pages of just mean commentings. the next page is about his metal paper. apparentlu, the metal paper can’t touch water, or else it poisons the water??? this makes no sense. not even ming yi can explain how it works. and then the main character touches the poison water? what a dumb character, remarks hua cheng.
main character wakes up in a cultivation world. apparentlhy main character was writing a story about this world? how dumb. hualien and beefleaf are crossing a road while reading this when a reckless cart driver is about to crash into them. hua cheng, obviously, obliterated the cart and its driver. problem solved! 
later that evening, when the four fall asleep, they don’t awaken (in those bodies, anyways). fengqing finds them, starts yelling their heads off, eventually brings their comatose bodies to ling wen, who shrugs and puts them in a drawer. 
meanwhile, hualien and beefleaf are reeling. they didn't get transferred into different bodies, but they are at a hospital. someone who looks vaguely like ling wen tells them that they were found half-dead under the seats of a funeral of some guy named shen jiu. weird. the nurse tries to charge them but, upon finding the only currency they have is merits, groans and lets them leave.  hua cheng rolls dice. nothing happens. 
xie lian asks where hua cheng’s butterflies are. hua cheng shrugs, but seems visibly on-edge. none of them are able to do cultivation when they try. people are looking at them weird. who the hell does cosplay in the middle of the street? some guy compliments xie lian and hua cheng on their tgcf cosplay. none of the four understand any of those words. someone asks to take a picture of them. take a picture? she pulls out a chunk of metal, holds it in front of their faces, presses next to them. oh, is it a mirror? but she clicks a white circle at the right of the rectangilar mirror, and it flashes bright white. hua cheng begins threatening her for daring to harm xie lian’s eyes, but xie lian apologetically gets him to back off.
the woman apologises and asks if they’re new to the area. shi qingxuan says yes, and she offers the four a place to stay. ming yi holds up his shovel, arguing that he could just dig a hole in the ground and sleep there. he has to be reminded that cultivation doesn’t work here.
back in the danmei world, airplane is no longer making money from his latest series, “an author without cultivation”! there were a few people buying it, but not anymore. they also tended to overpay wildly. airplane somehow pieces it together; (idk) ohhh they transferred to the human world. he convinces the system to let him and cucumber return to their world, but lbh protests. “where are you going shizun shizun dont leave me let me come with you shizun shizun come onnnnn shizunnnnnn” eventually they let him come too. mobei jun is ok with it as long as shang qinghua returns eventually. they transfer back to the human world, where cucumber finds himself in a coffin, at his own funeral. everyone is shocked when shen yuan sits up in his original body. people scream and shout and everyone is very happy, but cucumber barely remembers any of them. it’s been, like, twenty years. he can hardly remember his parents’ names. he smiles, laughs a little, rpetrends to know everyone, and then lbh arrives. through the window. pulls out an enormous sword. people then start screaming, because omg shen yuan’s enormous murder boyfriend is here. his parents scold him a little “why didn't you tell us you got a murder boyfriend” before getting yeeted into a wall. mmkay that’s happening now. luo bignhe and shen qingqiu spend their first day in the modern world in jail.
shang qinghua pays for their bail. apparently, they all arrived back to the modern world a day after sqq’s death, and a day before sqh’s. time travel? they don’t even know at this point. they manage to track down the other four by following a police report on a man in a red tunic and butterfly jewelry threatening a poor tgcf fan, witnesses report. (the woman wasnt even the one who ratted them out, it was the ugy who complimented them on their cosplays haha.) sqq and sqh share a look. that sounds like hua cheng, from tian guan ci fu! isn’t that a really popular danmei? lbh is just sitting next to them like a lost puppy, following them around, reminding shizun that he can tear anyone who dares question his authority to pieces. anyways they find the four. their conversation kinda goes like this.
sqq: hey are you xie lian?
hua cheng: who are you (the four are very concerned as they have never seen metal birds that make loud noises before)
lbh: how dare you threaten my husband
sqq and xie lian: binghe/san lang, calm down
sqq and xie lian make uncomfortable eye contact. woah. that guy also has an overprotective but lovable husband. neat. homosexuality.
xie lian:  yeah im xie lian, this is san lang, ming yi, and shi qingxuan
sqh: *looks at the other, nods* mmkay and are you familiar with the undiscovered gem of a series called “an author without cultivation”?
hua cheng and ming yi roll their eyes, the other two nod
sqx: yeah, what about it?
sqh: yeah, i’m the author! *waits for applause that never comes*
ming yi: so you know why we’re here?
sqq: well did you read it and hate it or somehting?
*lbh is still glaring at hua cheng. hua cheng is still glaring at lbh*
hua cheng: it was very easy to hate
sqh: *sqq laughs* shut up cucumber
ming yi: *snaps to attention* that was the name of one of your characters! peerless cucumber.
sqq: *laughing, elbows sqh* guess someone doesn’t hate it so much after all
*ming yi smacks him on the head with a shovel. lbh smacks ming yi on the head with his fist. they both pass out.*
sqx, catching ming yi: sorry about him, he can be a bit… (doesn’t finish)
sqh: yeah, no problem. my husband’s the same.
hua cheng: what?
sqh: *completely ignores him and moves on* okay so here’s what’s happening; i come from this world. i teleported to your world to do things accidentally after i died. then i stayed in your world and got a husband and started writing again and stuff.
xie lian: what things? and also you havent told us what you mena by we’re all gay. also why are giant metal birds your namesake?
sqh, swallowing: this is gonna take a while
they explain to the tgcf crew and stuff, and they end up grabbing an apartment. turns out, none of them know how to transfer htemselves back. also, they all appear to be human now. they appear the same, they’re all just human. sqh gets them a flat, and they all sleep on the floor.
ok i might update this later but who knows haha
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clairyclue · 4 months
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ride the cyclone fic?
the dead crave the earth, more than anything. the saint cassian choir don’t feel dead. not yet. maybe because karnak won’t let them feel that sweet relief yet, so instead of their bones resting like they should, they are tormented. pulled between two worlds, both of which they do not belong.
ocean was the first to realize her death was upon her. and maybe she was the most terrified. no one else felt the loss the way she did—no one mourned their own lives as much as she did. no one felt the anger the way ocean did. her voice has no claim here, not when that stupid fucking robot can override her decisions. no one has EVER done that before. no one has dared. when she felt the ride car veering off the track, her heart beating twenty thousand kilometers per millisecond, enough to power the uranium mines for millennia, she felt her life’s purpose being ripped from her. what use was it to be written off as a “would-be” valedictorian at her funeral, a page in the graduation program and a commemorative bush planted outside the chapel in her honor if she never got to taste the sweet cake of victory. she wanted her cake and to watch it too. she never got EITHER. it was unfair.
noel gruber sometimes craved death, if you were to ask his bedroom ceiling, of which knew all of his deepest secrets. he did not want to die. but he wanted to be anything other, anything besides this life. he wanted to be reborn and emerge like a butterfly from a cocoon, to shed this life and its miseries once and for all. he didn’t realize the roller coaster had derailed until it was too late. he wishes he could say he went down with a disturbed smile. a coy little smirk no one but him—and maybe mischa—would see. he wishes he could tell you his screams of terror were intermingled with screams of satisfaction, of fulfillment, of excitement. if he told you these things, he would be lying. and it’s that moment that teaches him the weight finality holds on all mortals and that his morbid musings were foolish.
every teenager thinks about death—right? and if she’s wrong she’ll apologize. constance aches for any choice other than uranium. the thought of dying in this town chokes her airways and makes her insides twist. this town chokes and suffocates and smothers the life out of her eyes. parties she never enjoys, dances that aren’t fun, best friends who don’t give you much choice in your own life. no one knows her name. they just know her squeaks of ‘sorry!’ directed their way at some point in their schooling career. when constance feels the car shiver, shake, and groan off the track, her life flashes before her eyes. and she’s never seen anything more wonderful in her goddamn life. she squeezes oceans hand, and screams with delight that the life she’s leaving behind was fucking FUN, and that if anything the way she dies mirrors that. it’s not beverly hills. it’s not rich. she’s not popular. but when she really looks at it from a birds eye view—it was everything she could have hoped for.
mischa is never scared. he wasn’t scared when his mother died. he wasn’t scared when his adoptive parents looked at him in horror when he arrived, older than they hoped and rugged with burdens heavier than they wanted to know of. he’s not scared when he fights people in the school hallways, when his phone is confiscated for the umpteenth time, when he’s sentenced to joining the choir as punishment by mr. whatever-the-fuck and forced under the rule of the five-foot-nothing dictator. and he’s definitely not scared now. he’s not scared for talia. he’s not scared about who’s going to tell her that he’s dead he’s not scared about meeting his mother again, maybe, face to face. he’s NOT SCARED. he’s not scared when noel gropes for any part of him to hold onto—he’s not scared when he grips him back—he’s never been scared. he’s not scared when death looks him in the face—and LAUGHS.
there was a time ricky potts had wanted to speak. years worth of words cluttered his mind, sentences clogging his throat. he wanted so desperately to try and blend in with the kids around him. he never got his chance. not as long as he had lived. (in death, though, that’s something entirely else.) he was uranium’s most imaginative boy. the musings of his own death had crossed his mind, sometimes. he hoped maybe it would be COOL. maybe he would die in a blaze of lightening, revealing the secrets of the earth and beyond just before his final exhale. he’s not thinking about his death when ocean shepherds him into the ride seat. he wonders why she even bothers—he can’t sing. he’s not very interesting. she had to argue with the carnie running the cyclone for twenty minutes just to get him onto this stupid thing. he’s thinking about the girl beside him—she mumbles to herself, and laughs, and he tries to imagine whatever is going through her mind. he spends the lift thinking about how much better zolar woukd make roller coasters—but of course, cats with advanced technology and intergalactic wars dont fool themselves with such trifles. they have better technology than the human mind can comprehend. obviously. he’s halfway through imagining what superior technology zolarians would amuse themselves with when the car lurches itself off the track and he’s almost pelted off the side. the screams of the other choir members haunt his ears. he’s eerily silent. he wonders what HIS screams would sound like.
jane doe… jane doe was not terrified, as far as anyone could tell you. she was not sad. angry. happy. she can’t tell you how she felt, either. the choir tries, they really do, to remember her. but the edges of their memories get fuzzy and they keep circling back to MAYBE. her chest feels empty when she tries to decide if she would be scared. she’s not even sure if she knows what that feels like. (she does. she feels lung squeezing, terrifying fear every time a hand grazes her neck. when she thinks about the afterlife without her soul, living the rest of eternity alone and with a deaf, suffocating emptiness in her chest where her heart should be beating.) penny lamb, however… she is a whole new story. penny did not know the boy sitting beside her. his name was, perhaps, ricardo? that sounds close enough for her. her brother is somewhere in the crowd—six people to a car, and he didn’t want to go ANYWAY—so she had shuffled in beside the kid who never talked and braced to be whipped around. it was fun…as fun as rollercoasters can get, when your guys aren’t being squelched around inside your rib cage. she wonders if it has lasting effects on health. she’s never been to a fair before, much less on a rollercoaster. she snorts to herself—she knows how to grow weed, but not what a rollercoaster is like. ryan shoots her an odd look. nothing else comes of it. she assumes that the shaking, shivering, creaking of the roller coaster is just part of the ride. it jostled her guts, worse than ever, but she grits her molars. penny lamb is no wimp. but as the sink farther to the ground, she starts to think that this isn’t part of the ride anymore. the final fun fact that crosses her mind, before her identity bleeds into the ground with her arteries: human minds can have a few seconds of consciousness when severed from the body. she heard the anguish of the street. everything is a hazy blur, watercolor of vomit, sparkles and garbled speech and sirens.
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dem-obscure-imagines · 2 months
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I Know the End | Vol. 2
I Know the End
Poe Dameron x Reader
Fandom: Star Wars
Summary: You were one of the Rebellion’s greatest weapons in the Galactic Civil War, a Princess from a distant planet, a Jedi with wings. Now, you’ve found yourself in a new world, a new war, your old friends long gone.
When Poe Dameron was sent on a wild goose chase of a reconnaissance mission four systems out, he never expected to find the key to his heart…
Note: At long last, here it is. Thank you for your patience. I love you all. I honestly wrote this as a long-winded attempt to make Poe Dameron’s dumbest line “Somehow, Palpatine returned” into a gut-wrenching and emotional moment and it got way out of hand. I am no Star Wars expert, but I did a lot of research for this and consider myself waaaaaaay more of a SW nerd now than I was a mere two months ago. Could probably write a dissertation on it at this point (I say as I literally churned out a novel). It is my first time writing for the fandom, though, so, here goes nothing. I did make up a fair bit of stuff and a good handful of OCs for this. Let me know what you think!
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, lightsaber and blaster wounds, alcohol consumption, war and the implications of it, gets a little steamy but no smut, reader has nightmares, misuse of the Force, Rewriting the Rise of Skywalker a lil bit…
Word Count: 82.7k total (Split into four approximately 20k chunks)
Reader Is: 24, a Jedi, a Princess, has butterfly wings
Vol 1. | Vol 2. | Vol 3. | Vol 4.
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Charms in Trees
A few small battles came and went. It was pilot stuff, mostly. They’d go, blow up a First Order transport, and be back in time for dinner. You always offered your help, but it was never needed. Still, you’d take any excuse to go see Poe, especially in that orange jumpsuit. You weren’t sure what it was about it, but you couldn’t get enough of it.
Sometimes you thought about taking it off of him.
It was a growing problem, your little unspoken thing. You’d forgotten just how all-encompassing a crush could be, especially when it was as attainable as the one sitting in front of you right now. You shared a base, lived just down the hall from him. Maker, you could feel that he felt the same way about you, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to shatter the normalcy.
Part of you wanted him to do it, finally take that leap of faith. You were patient. You could wait.
So you did.
Supplies began to dwindle, so you put on a utility uniform and went with some of the others to get more, lifting boxes with your arms instead of your mind. You helped Aspen and some of the other mechs with repairs. You spent time with Soren, both training and not. He was fun to hang out with, a funny guy. Had your sense of humor.
He told you that Laesynda had taken him out to Mariposas a few times when he was growing up. They’d leave flowers outside your pod, light a candle for a while and tell stories. It was haunting, almost, the funerals people held for you despite the fact that you weren’t dead.
Poe had been refurbishing an old X-Wing in his free time, which wasn’t very much to begin with. Leia had been upping his responsibilities, clearly bracing for something. Whether it was an attack or a defensive move, you couldn’t tell, but it had him stressed out.
On a beautiful afternoon, you looked for him in the hangar, armed with some baked goods. BB-8 chirped to welcome you and Poe kicked a shelf in shock, a toolbox teetering for a moment before it started its descent straight on top of him. You caught it in mid-air. The tools floated out of the box, your arm outstretched, heart racing. You set them all down gently, safely away from that pretty face of his.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, Dameron. Came here with a peace offering.”
“Peace offering?” He asked, rolling himself out from under the X-Wing. He peeled his work gloves off, dusting himself off as best as he could.
It looked pretty close to finished, you noted, looking it over. It would need a paint job, of course, but all of the major parts seemed to be accounted for.
“Finn said you’ve been in a mood lately…” You admitted. “Figured I’d bring you something to take your mind off it.”
He grinned, looking at the gift and then up at you. There it was, that infamous flyboy grin of his. “Sunshine, you’re all I need to take my mind off of it. But these are appreciated, too.”
Your heart fluttered at the nickname, handing him the container of sweets. “How’s it going in here? It looks good.”
“Thanks. Should be done soon.” He reported, busting into the box and biting into the sweet, berry-filled tart. “And then we’ll really be in business.”
“I’m sorry about your other one, by the way. I feel partially responsible for that.”
“It wasn’t my first. I knew it wouldn’t be my last.” He chuckled. “At least it got to go out with a bang.”
“And some flames, as well. It was on fire, last I saw it.”
“I am glad I got to take you for a spin in it, though. Think I could get you into this new one sometime?”
“I’m always down for a joyride.” You told him, eyes sparkling, words sincere. “Let me know when it’s done and I can try to fit you into my busy Jedi princess schedule.”
“You’re serious.”
“Always.” You nodded. “I’ve been wanting to spend more time with you.”
He pouted, gazing at you through those dark lashes, a little bit of fruit filling stuck to the corner of his stupidly pink lips. His tongue poked out to get it, but failed. “Wish I’d known that a week ago, I would have carved out more time.”
“Don’t worry about it, Commander.” You said, resting a hand against his chest. You reached up with the other hand, gently wiping corner of his lips. “I know you’re busy, too.”
He held your hand against his cheek, meeting your eyes. “Not too busy for you, your Highness.”
“Good.” You replied, thumb gently stroking his stubble.
He turned his face, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of your thumb. He met your eyes, gaze all innocent despite the way your cheeks were flushing. “Did you get it?”
“I did.” You nodded, making a speedy recovery. “Couldn’t let the best pilot in the Resistance walk around with jam on his face, could I?”
“Well, thank you, for the treats, for sparing my reputation, all of it.” His eyes scanned down your face as you finally removed your hand from the side of his. “You got anything going on today, (Y/N)?”
“Training.”
“Mmm. What time?”
“Soon.” You said, glancing at the watch around your wrist. It had been Luke’s, Leia had given it to you. “About fifteen minutes.”
“Could you move that panel for me real quick?” He asked, pointing up at the wing of his X-Wing, where a patch of machinery was exposed, a heavy piece of sheet metal leaning up against it.
“Oh yeah. Absolutely.”
He set his box of tarts on the workbench and rolled a ladder over to the X-Wing while you lifted the wing cover into place, arms out in front of you, the heavy piece floating in mid-air. He stopped and watched for a second, chuckling to himself.
“What?”
“Still getting used to it, is all.” He confessed, gently pushing the piece into place, where you held it until he started bolting it into place. “This thing weighs like two hundred pounds, and you just…You’re amazing. You know that?”
“You think that’s cool, you should see what I can do with some pretty hefty rocks.”
He glanced over his shoulder at you, the whir of his wrench stopping. “Oh I’m sure it’s phenomenal.”
“Anything else you need while I’m here?”
He shook his head. “I’m all set. Good luck with training. I hope you…you know, move things good.”
“I’ll certainly try.” You chuckled, turning and leaving the hangar.
Over and over in your head, you watched him turn his face and press the gentlest kiss to your thumb. You may have been the one with wings, but he was always the one that gave you butterflies.
***
Your final bits of training that day just so happened to be wing-centric. That morning, you’d flitted from tree to tree, hanging metal charms in the branches with lengths of twine. Rey had been given some other independent activities to work on, but it was clear you and Soren had some ground to cover, or…not cover, flight being the main objective here.
The two of you stared up at them. He looked at you for instructions, but you simply repeated what you’d already said.
“Go get them.”
“What, with the Force?”
“Nope. We’ve been using the Force for hours. Time to stretch those wings, little prince.”
He laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been up that high before.”
“That’s why I need you to be comfortable with it. If you go about it the right way, you can get some serious height. More, if you strengthen your wings with practice and exercise, and more yet if you use the Force for a little boost.”
“Could you…show me?”
You chuckled, hands on your hips, looking up, up, up at the charms. Yeah, that would definitely be a bit daunting if it was your first time flying. “Sure. I’m not gonna cut them down, though, because I’ll have to go up there and hang them all again.”
You spread your wings, shaking the accumulated dust and humidity collected on them from Ajan Kloss’ temperate ecosystem. And then you took off, running at a stump on the ground and using it as a springboard, wings carrying you to the first branch, where you hit the hanging charm sending it swinging.
You flipped from the first branch to the next, a few feet higher, touching that charm before heading to the next, and the next. You were like a dancer, graceful, fluid, gliding from branch to branch, using your limited flight to climb until you were near the top of the highest tree in your training grounds. You took a moment to look out at the camp, admire the Resistance crew bustling from building to building, doing their daily tasks to keep your movement up and running.
And then, doing one last somersault, you dove down, catching yourself with your wings and a burst of air, kicking up the leaves scattered on the forest floor.
Soren stared with wide eyes, Rey having joined him on the ground.
“And you expect me to do…that?”
“Not all of it.” You assured him. “That last jump is definitely something you’ll have to build towards. It’s a leap of faith. But that’s why I’m here, to catch you if the landing isn’t going so smooth.”
“Alright.” He nodded. “I can try.”
“Do or do not. There is no try.” You said, the words familiar, even if they weren’t yours. Sometimes the Force spoke through you; you could feel that this was one of those times. “Aim for five charms today. Any more than that and I’ll be impressed.”
Soren looked up at the first charm, on a low, sturdy branch, deceptively close to the ground. Like you did, he took off at a run, using his wings to get some height and land–somewhat shakily–on the branch, but he did it, youthful face breaking into a grin.
“There you go!” You encouraged, Rey smiling as she watched.
“It’s really great, what you’re doing with him.” Rey said, voice sincere. She reached for your hand and you gave it to her, just as you had that very first day you met. Long ago, you and Leia had shared a sisterhood, and now you shared that with Rey.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
“I hope so. He’s…well, he’s my first Padawan. After you, of course, but you had a head start.”
“I wish you had been here when all of this started,” she confessed, squeezing your hand. “It would have been…nice to know I wasn’t alone in this.”
“You’re not alone.” You told her. “A long time ago…I was meditating, trying to find other Jedi out there. Luke and I thought we were alone, too. I found someone, another Jedi, a young woman. The Force works in mysterious ways, of course, because…it was you. You wouldn’t be born for another, what, eleven years? But I know it was you. We were meant to be here. I was meant to help you and…I plan on doing that. No matter what.”
Rey smiled, words failing her. She pulled you into her arms instead, resting her head against yours. You hugged her back, rubbing comforting circles in her shoulders.
“You know, I’ve always wanted a sister.” She admitted with a laugh, tears in her eyes.
“Well now you’ve got one.”
“I got seven charms, Aunt (Y/N).” Soren said, dangling them from their strings when you turned to look.
“How was the landing?”
“A little shaky, but…” He shrugged and then looked back up at the next charm, even higher than the last. “I think I could get another one.”
“Go ahead. Round two.” You encouraged, motioning him up into the tree.
Finn and Poe walked over not long after, chatting animatedly about something, BB-8 rolling alongside them. It was clear, even from that distance, that Finn was teasing him.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
“She getting you up there next, Rey?” Finn asked, pointing up at the trees, where Soren had very clearly already gotten the hang of it, throwing a few flips and flourishes into his movements. You grinned, proud.
“Oh, no, I don’t think so.” Rey shook her head. “I will after you do.”
“Fair enough.” Finn chuckled. “How’s it going, ladies?”
“Good. Really good. Good, productive day today.” You said.
“Good view up there?” Poe asked, shielding his eyes as he glanced up at the highest branch, a glittering charm still hanging from a thread.
“Great view.” You said.
“I thought you said you could only cover short distances, that looks like quite a height.”
“You have to build up to it.” You told him, pointing to all the shorter branches on the way up to that point. “I can’t just fly straight up there. Maybe with some strength training, but these things aren’t what they used to be.” You gave them a flutter, noting the way his eyes caught on them yet again.
“Well, it looked great, from what I could see.”
“That’s high praise coming from you, flyboy.”
“Well, from one flyer to another…you’re a natural. Literally. You were born to be up there, doing that.”
You smiled, voice soft and sincere when you said, “So were you.”
“That means a lot, (Y/N).” He said, head turning downwards for a moment while he thought. “Anyway, uh, Finn and I were wondering if the two of you would join us at the cantina later? Rose’ll be there, too. Things have been so tense lately, we thought we could all blow off some steam.”
“I’d love to.”
Rey nodded. “Yeah, me too.”
“Just let me get changed into something more casual.” You said, flourishing the skirts of your Jedi robes.
“What, the robes aren’t fit for a night on the town?”
“The robes aren’t fit for…much other than looking solemn and kicking ass.” You said with a chuckle. “Unlike your flight suit, which is fit for any occasion.”
“Back to that, huh?” Poe grinned, letting out a laugh. “If you really like that thing so much, maybe I’ll wear it more often.”
You smirked. “I wouldn’t complain.”
“I would.” Finn chuckled. “It needs a good wash, buddy.”
“Alright, alright.”
You watched as Soren landed once again, wings powerful, stance strong. You gave him a nod, pride blossoming in your chest. He was getting there after all. Your training was working. You just hoped that, when danger came, he’d be ready for it.
You hoped you all would be.
Cards on the Table
You sat in your quarters with Rose and Rey, getting ready for your night out with the boys. You braided a few strands of your hair, tying them off with small gold rings at the end.
“This one?” Rey asked, holding the dress up against her frame, a sage green color. It was one of the ones you’d given her.
You nodded. “That color suits you. Brings out your eyes.”
Rey considered your words for a moment before beginning to change. Rose sat at your desk, looking through the accessories you’d pulled out. You plucked a pair of earrings from the collection, setting them in her palm.
“Are you sure? I’ve never worn a princess’ earrings before.” Rose said, staring at them. They were a pair of gold, dangling leaves. They’d go with the blouse she was wearing, a natural pattern on them.
“First time for everything.” You said with a shrug, turning your attention to your own outfit. A wine-colored top with a corset front, the back swooping just low enough for your wings. With it, you’d paired some dark brown pants with flared legs, a decorative gold belt made of metal hoops. You tucked your lightsaber into your bag, instead of displaying it at your hip.
“Oh this…” Rey struggled with the back of her dress. “I can’t get it to stay closed.”
“Here, let me.” You walked over and pulled ribbons from the sides of the dress, tying it closed above the large divot for where your wings went when you had worn it. “I sewed these in for Leia. She and I shared a closet during the Rebellion, more or less.”
Rey’s eyes scanned down her reflection, hands smoothing out the green fabric. “Thank you.”
“You look great.” You told her, words warm and reassuring. “You both do.”
“So do you!” Rose complimented.
A few minutes later, you decided you were ready, not that there was any pressure to be. This was just Finn and Poe you were talking about after all. But you had a feeling quite a few other members of the Resistance crew would be there.
The three of you arrived and it felt like time stopped. Poe and Finn were in a round booth in the corner and they both looked up, faces lit with anticipation at the sight of you. It felt good to be wearing something other than your robes or your standard Resistance gear, a luxury you did not take lightly.
They stood up and crossed the room, meeting you somewhere in the middle. Poe was wearing that leather jacket of his, the one you’d mistaken him for Han Solo in. Beneath it, a button-up that seemed to be missing a few buttons. You swore he was doing it on purpose.
“Hey, Princess.” He grinned. “Glad you made it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Several Resistance folks milled about, dancing, playing games. A few droids manned the bar, where there were paper lanterns strung from the support beams, casting the room in warm, ambient light.
The five of you shimmied back into the booth, Poe going almost out of his way to make sure he got the seat next to yours, right on the end. His arm settled on the seat behind you, that strong sandalwood scent drifting from his pulse point. Maker, you could get lost in it.
When the droid taking drink orders came around, you each requested something, settling in for a nice, casual night.
A song you recognized came over the speakers in the corners of the room and you smiled. It was familiar. A place like this, people like these.
The more things changed…
“I requested some oldies for you.” Poe confessed, just about causing your heart to melt. “Thought it’d remind you of the good old days.”
“He put ten whole credits in the jukebox.” Finn tattled, earning a pointed look from the pilot. “Stood there forever picking out songs.”
“Well that was very sweet.” You said, leaning a little closer to him subconsciously. “Not to sound incredibly old, but the new music is still…growing on me, we’ll say.”
“How old were you?” Finn asked. “I’m sorry if that’s rude. I don’t think we’ve ever asked.”
“I’m twenty-four. I’ll be twenty-five in…well, I don’t know when my birthday falls now. Four months? Three months? Something like that. Give or take thirty years, of course.”
“You’re younger than me.” Poe murmured, almost in shock of the fact.
He’d taken it for granted, he guessed, just how young you were when they’d put you in that pod. But you’d existed his entire life, etched into legends and stories told by anyone who remembered the war. To him, you’d existed forever. But he was older than you, by eight years.
“Were you…alive when I was?” You asked, running the numbers in your mind.
“I’m thirty-two.” He said, meeting your eyes. There was an odd look in them, like he was asking permission for something. He chuckled, covering the flash of insecurity with a smirk and a quip. “I know I hardly look it.”
“You would have been really young, then.” You bit your lip, letting out a little laugh at the new information. The whole situation was ridiculous. You doubted your paths had ever crossed, so it didn’t matter, ultimately, but still. “That is a little weird.”
“It is.” Poe agreed, eyes still ever-searching yours for some sign that it was still okay, the feelings floating around his heart.
“That means you really are the Han of the group.” You said, in an attempt to diffuse the tension that had blossomed in his chest. It worked. You could feel it instantly. “He was like thirty and the rest of us were in our twenties.”
“Does that make you Leia this time?” Rey asked, catching your eyes, a spark of mischief in her gaze. She knew exactly what she was implying.
“I think it does. Which means you get to be me this time. Congratulations, you are now a princess. Use the title well.” You joked, sitting back against the cushioned bench, also, coincidentally, against Poe’s arm, which was still there, perched on the leather. Warmth emanated from him, both literally and figuratively.
Eventually, the drinks came and you took a few sips of yours, loosening up. You all chatted and joked and laughed. Eventually, Rey and Rose got up to dance with the mechs over on the dance floor. Finn followed behind them.
Jessika spotted you and motioned you over, a broad grin on her face. Beside her was Aspen. Snap was there, too. They were hanging out near the holodart board mounted to the wall.
“Wanna play some darts?” Poe smirked, following your eyeline.
“If you’re ready to get your ass kicked, sure.” You teased, getting out of the booth after him and walking over to where his friends were waiting.
“You look great, girl!” Jessika said. “Give us a spin.”
You did a little twirl, showing off the top, the pants, the accessories. Your wings fluttered behind you like a cape, folded down and out of the way, as they always were.
“Dameron said he was gonna try to get you out here tonight.” Snap said, jostling his buddy’s shoulder. “Glad you joined us.”
“Do you guys do this often?”
“Not often enough.” Aspen said with a laugh, perched criss-cross on a barstool. “But our schedules have us all wound up tighter than a drum. I think we all needed to let off some steam.”
“How have things been for you guys? Missions running smoothly?”
“As ever.” Jessika said. “Thanks, of course, to our fearless commander.”
“Stop, stop, you’re too kind.” Poe said, playfully brushing off his shoulder. “It helps that I have the best team in the galaxy at my disposal.”
Snap motioned you closer, handing you a glowing dart. “Alright, enough chitchat. I want the Jedi on my team.”
“That is not fair.” Poe protested immediately. “It’s only fair if she’s on my team.”
“Sorry, Poe, I’ve been spoken for.” You shrugged, throwing the dart and landing in the outer ring of the bullseye.
Snap’s face lit up and he high-fived you.
“That’s gotta be cheating.” Jessika said, looking to Aspen, who was serving, apparently, as the referee. Pilots took their holodarts very seriously, after all. “Ref, tell her she’s cheating.”
“No, if I was cheating, it would look like this.” You took a second dart from Snap, covered your eyes with one hand, and threw the dart, using the Force to pull it through an exaggerated loop-de-loop on its way to the board, where it hit dead on in the center. You lowered your hand and shrugged innocently. “I just genuinely have pretty decent aim, as hard as it is to believe.”
“She’s pretty and she’s got a sense of humor. You’re a goner, Dameron.” Snap said, elbowing him while you were distracted, laughing with Aspen and Jessika.
Poe chuckled, crossing his arms, eyes teeming with tenderness. “Believe me, pal, I know.”
***
The night went on. You had a few more drinks, toeing the line between tipsy and drunk, but not quite getting all the way there. You and Poe continued to dance around each other, but he didn’t make a move. Well, any further than he already had. But after watching him interact with some of his friends, you’d come to realize that he was a touchy guy. It was definitely his love language.
You sang some songs at the karaoke machine in the corner of the room, sharing the stage with Rose, who had a really good voice, as it turned out.
At the end of the evening, when the crowd began to dwindle, Poe walked you back to your quarters. You, somewhat clumsily, punched in your code, the doors sliding open smoothly. You lingered in the doorway, turning to look at him.
“Thanks for taking me out, Dameron.” You said, breaking the warm silence that threatened to swallow your moment. “I had a great time.”
“Thanks for coming. I, uh…” He reached for your hand and you gave it to him, letting him fiddle with your fingers. It was comforting, his touch. You doubted you’d ever tire of the feeling of those calloused palms against yours. “If you were serious about that joyride…I’m taking it up tomorrow. Little test-drive, checking perimeters. Two porgs, one stone, you know. It’ll still be a tight fit, if that’s alright.”
“Well we both know I have no problem with getting close to you, Dameron.” You teased, giving his hand a squeeze. “What time are you picking me up?”
“After breakfast? Or…well, whenever works. I know you’re busy.”
You nodded, eyes glimmering. “After breakfast works.”
You could feel it again, that warmth sweltering in Poe’s chest. That desire laced deep in his eyes. He was thinking about kissing you. The fantasy playing out in your mind, you weren’t sure if it was yours or his, at this point.
Him, grabbing you by the hip, burying a hand in your hair, kissing you fiercely, passionately, lips exploring every inch of your own. Hungrily. Like he’d been waiting for it. You heard the way his breath hitched, felt his large, warm hand wander further up your back, towards the base of your wings as he kissed you. Cards on the table, heart on his sleeve.
But he didn’t. Didn’t move, aside from giving your hand another squeeze.
You smiled at him, still reeling from the images that had just flashed through your mind, but doing your best to hide the way your heart was racing. “It’s a date.”
These Haunted Wounds
You woke with a start not long after you drifted off. An hour or two at most. Nightmares. Figured.
This time, it was about a different saber. A red one, two little offshoots on the side of the hilt. It looked dangerous. Poorly constructed, if you were honest. One wrong move and the wielder would slice their own hand off by mistake.
No, the scary part was the guy wielding it. Long, foreboding figure, black cloak that drifted in the wind. He wore a mask over his face, voice deepened by a modulator of some kind. It brought back memories in all the wrong ways.
Despite the fact that you hadn’t seen him yet, didn’t know what he looked like, you could just tell. This was Kylo Ren. Had to be. That type of energy could only come from someone who was trying his damndest to stand in the shadow of Darth Vader, an entity you were still all too familiar with.
Luke had made his peace with the guy. You had never gotten that opportunity.
Kylo swished his cape and from his shadow came Insidia, still haunting you after all these years. She plunged her saber into your heart, the pain scorching and real, a scream tearing itself from your throat, and that was when you woke in a cold sweat.
You sat there, hands shaking, heart racing, collecting yourself before trying to lay down to sleep again. Just as you were about to lay back down, there was a knock on your door. Eyebrows furrowing, you swung your legs out of the bed, crossing the room and opening the door with a click of a button on the wall panel.
Poe was standing there in his sweatpants, panting, armed with a piece of a pipe. It was clear he’d run there. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“Huh?” You asked, rubbing at your bleary eyes. You stopped, staring at his bare, toned chest for maybe too long before meeting his gaze. “I’m fine.”
He lowered the pipe. “Oh. I heard screaming.”
Had you screamed out loud? Maybe you had. Maybe you’d projected it on accident, through the Force.
“It was just a nightmare.” You reassured him. You chuckled when you looked at the pipe hanging from his grip. “Nice.”
“Hey, I could do some real damage with this thing.” He defended, giving it a test swing to demonstrate.
“Oh I bet.” You gave a tired smile, let out a sigh, that spot in your chest burning, where Insidia had stabbed you in this dream.
She’s dead. You reminded yourself. She can’t hurt me anymore because she’s dead.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Same old.” You shrugged. “Stabbed with a lightsaber this time. Right through the chest.”
He frowned, nodding. “Is there anything I can do?”
“I’ll be okay.” You promised him. “But thank you for rushing to my rescue. Very daring of you, Commander.”
“Any time.” 
You could feel that he wanted to stay. But you could tell he wasn’t going to ask. Ever the gentleman in the presence of a princess. It was kind of refreshing. You smiled at him. “Get some sleep, flyboy. See you in the morning.”
“You too. Goodnight.” He smiled. He held up the pipe in his hand. “I better go put this back.”
You laughed, watching as he walked back down the hallway. He glanced back at you, meeting your eyes before returning to the room he shared with Finn.
A soft smile pulled at your lips and you lingered in the hallway for a moment before closing your door and walking back to your bunk. You sat there, wondering what it would have been like if you asked him to stay. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to, but…maybe there was a reason he was waiting.
Maybe he was waiting until after the war to get attached. That would be smart. You knew so many during the Rebellion who did just that. 
Some hashed everything out in the heat of the war, sure. It was hard to get comfortable. It was hard to know which base would be your last, which fight would end it all. Some people chased comfort, wanting to get close to each other while they had the chance.
But others wanted to wait, to make sure they were going to make it to see the peace after the war, and whatever relationship, whatever life awaited them after.
You rolled onto your side, staring at the wall. You wonder if he knew the way he had his hand wrapped around your heart, a little X-Wing orbiting it around and around.
Tomorrow, you promised yourself. Tomorrow you’d say something, up in the X-Wing with him. Arms around you, chest pressed against your back, legs tangled in the cockpit. And one way or the other, you’d finally have your answer.
This time, when you fell asleep, the only thing you dreamt of were his lips.
The Crash
The next morning, Poe met you and the others for breakfast, already dressed in his orange jumpsuit, the collar flipped open. You could not keep the smile off your face at the sight.
“I can’t believe this is really what does it for you.” He laughed, drunk off the look in your eyes.
“It suits you.” You said, eyes lingering on the collar, fighting the urge to reach out and fix it. You rummaged around your mind for some quip to fire back, but came up empty. He’d stolen the words right from your mouth.
The group of you finished eating and Poe cleared your plate, leading you towards the hangar. 
“I don’t have it painted yet, but the mechs checked over it yesterday and gave me the okay.” Poe explained.
“So we’re not going to crash, is what you’re saying.”
“Not with a Jedi on board.” He said, eyes meeting yours. “I still think about that transport you caught. I didn’t know you could just…do that.”
“Took a while to get to that point. Ships are heavy. It helps if I’m not fighting the trajectory. Laesynda’s ship was on its way down, I just…cushioned the fall.” You explained.
“You’re real humble for a Jedi, you know.”
“You think so?”
“More humble than I would be if I could lift spacecrafts with my mind.”
“Oh I’m aware, flyboy. If you were out here with a lightsaber, none of us would ever hear the end of it.” You teased, looking over his flightsuit, still enamored. “You’re already an ace pilot, you can’t possibly have all the skills.”
He opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by the harsh blare of a distress signal. The two of you looked at each other before booking it to the strategy table, where Leia was, hand still over the button.
“It’s one of our settlements. First Order troops on the ground, TIE fighters.” She made eye contact with you, Rey running into the room right after. “Kylo is with them.”
She dispatched groups of fighters, sent you and Rey and sent out the Black Squadron. Poe marched through the hangar, yelling orders, getting his team ready for battle. You forced your eyes away from him as he loaded BB-8 into his X-Wing, strapped your saber to your belt, and loaded onto a transport with Rey and Finn.
Soren walked over, saber at the ready. You stopped him with a shake of your head, something akin to a maternal look in your eye. “I need you here. It’s just Kylo. Rey and I can handle him.”
“I’m ready.”
“I know you are.” You said, hands on his shoulders. “That’s why I need you here. Someone’s gotta protect the base.”
He nodded, understanding. He took a few steps back, standing with the others as they saw you all off.
You made eye contact with Poe, one last lingering glance before he climbed into the cockpit and took off into the sky, blasting off at lightspeed with the rest of his squadron to clear way for your transport.
The ramp of the transport closed and Finn looked at you. “He’s like you. Soren.”
“Reckless?” You asked.
He shook his head, eyes serious and warm. “Brave.”
You smiled at the thought and put a hand on Finn’s arm. “So are you.”
The ride was short, but shaky. You didn’t like turbulence, especially in a craft that only had thin, tiny windows. It left you uneasy. But eventually, you touched down, saber in hand, leading the charge with Rey.
There were dozens of Stormtroopers, opening fire on not only the scattered Resistance members, but any civilians they could get their hands on. You put yourself between them, deflecting their shots with a few swings of the saber. The fighters that had come with you ran out of the ship, assessing the situation and adjusting as quickly as possible.
In the air, a battle had broken out as well, X-Wings and TIE fighters firing at each other, as well as the ground below them. You tried to identify which ship was Poe’s. You could feel him up there, but it was hard to get a lock. All you knew was that it was a black ship, an orange stripe painted down the side. Black Squadron.
Another trooper shot at you you and you shifted into battle mode. You used the Force to mow over a row of troopers, pushing them onto their backs in the dirt and leaving them scrambling to get back to their feet. One came at you with a melee weapon, electrified, but you did away with it quickly, using the Force to throw him at a tank, the force of it taking out the canon with a loud explosion.
More troopers focused their aim on you and quickly met the same fate.
Overhead, an X-Wing twirled around, almost drifting through the air and taking out one, two, three TIE fighters in quick succession, firing at a cluster of troopers on the ground immediately after. That had to be Poe.
Another turret fired near the civilians and you ran towards it, using your wings to get some height and jumping up the length of it, burying your saber in the metal paneling on the side and riding it back down to the ground as it was destroyed in a cloud of fire and smoke.
Finn ushered civilians to safety, taking out any troopers that got close with a well-placed blast. Rey worked with you to take out the remaining turrets, keeping the troopers at bay as more of them unloaded from landing transports.
You heard a boom overhead and looked, hoping to see a TIE fighter on its way down, but instead catching sight of an X-Wing, black and orange, one of its engines engulfed in flames.
You reached up and caught it with the Force, directing it away from the thick trees it was aimed towards and turning the nose, bringing it down gently in a clearing of grass and dirt, away from the immediate violence on the sprawling battlefield. You didn’t have time to worry if it might be Poe climbing out of it. Didn’t even have time to think before you saw him.
Kylo Ren.
His saber glowed red, contrasting against the lush green of the planet you were standing on, his kyber crystal obviously damaged, the way its blade was flared. He’d forced it too hard, been too rough with it. Maybe that was why the offshoots were there, to redirect the excess energy.
He was dressed like a shadow, long and sleek, all in black, face covered up by that helmet. It was better that way. You were afraid of finding too much of your friends in his broken gaze. Leia. Han. In another life, you may have been something like an aunt to him. Now he stood in front of you, a monster. 
And he was headed right towards you, strides long and elegant.
“Mothim said you were awake, your Highness. It’s time to see if you really are the thing of legends.” He twirled his saber, voice distorted beyond anything human. An intimidation tactic, no doubt, in addition to the obvious imitation of one Darth Vader.
“Ah yes, my best friend’s biggest disappointment. I keep hearing about you, and I have to admit. You’re a lot taller than I expected.”
He raised his hand attempting to use the Force to…you weren’t sure. Grab you, choke you, but you had your shields up, always did, blocking out his attempt. “You’re good.”
“I have to be.” You replied, readying your saber, stretching out your neck.
He swung at you and you deflected, angling carefully to avoid the reach of the flares near the hilt of his saber. So that’s what they were for. One wrong move and it would be your hand he was slicing off. You countered, using your wings to spin into position, leveraging an attack that he dodged, his saber clashing loudly with your own.
“Tell me, did you really face Vader by yourself, or did you have Skywalker to help you?” He locked his saber with your own, mask uncomfortably close to your face. “Skywalker is dead now. I saw to that myself. I finished the work that Vader could not.”
You let out a cold laugh at that. “You’re not Vader. You’re not even close.”
That definitely pissed him off. He let out a strangled yell, running at you with full force. You dodged with a leap, spinning out of the way. He took the opportunity to take a swing at your wings, which flared in reply, flattening themselves out of his reach. Your foot swept through the dirt as you landed, breaking your somewhat clumsy fall.
That had been a targeted attack. Straight for the wings. Not your arm. Not your saber. Your wings.
Rey came over next, putting herself between the two of you, battling him with a rage you knew had to be personal. You could feel that they were connected. Always had been. There were layers here that you did not quite understand yet. But she still fought him, moves quick and deliberate and instinctual.
You jumped back in alongside her, red clashing against blue and pink, sparks flying. Some of the brush caught fire, but never fully ignited, instead filling the ground between you with smoke, partially obstructing the rest of the fight.
You landed a hit on his leg, slashing into the skin. Rey got him on the opposite arm and he let out a burst of Force energy that sent you both flying. You used your wings to recover, repositioning mid-air, an outstretched hand slowing Rey’s trajectory as well, just before the back of her head hit a tree.
“RETREAT!” Kylo screeched, his voice echoing through the trees, birds scattering at the loud, distorted cry.
You’d hurt him. Bad. You could see the blood pooling in the dirt as he stalked away.
The Stormtroopers and other forces retreated into the transports that hadn’t already been blown up. The remaining TIE fighters, few though there were, hopped to lightspeed. One of the X-Wings shot a few transports on their way into the atmosphere, but other than that, the fight was over.
You found Finn among the crowd, making sure he was uninjured. He was fine. There had been some injuries, but no casualties, even among the civilians, who were cheering and embracing, celebrating their safety for the moment.
You looked over at the crashed X-Wing, smoking at the edge of the field and ran over to it, wings carrying you farther and faster than you’d flown in years, just a handful of feet above the grass. You landed on one of the wings and used the Force to pop open the cockpit, the windshield cracked, the pilot still inside.
She tugged off her helmet, long brown hair cascading down her shoulders. Jessika. Not Poe.
You offered her a hand, helping her out. She looked up at you, awe in her eyes, her hand wrapping around yours. You used your wings to lower the both of you gently to the ground.
“Are you alright?”
“I swore I was going to crash. You…you saved my life.” She rushed into your arms and you held her, rocking her comfortingly. “How do I even begin to repay you for that?”
“You don’t. We’re all in this together.” You assured her, wiping some of the soot from her face with a gentle hand. “Now let’s get you back to base. I’m sure there’s lots of room for you on the transport.”
One of the Resistance members from the planet rushed over, putting out her smoking X-Wing engine with a fire extinguisher. “We’ll take care of this. Get it repaired as soon as possible.”
Jessika exchanged some words with the mech, arranging something of a plan to come get it before following you and the others back onto the transport.
“Are you alright?” You asked Rey, checking all your bases, counting faces and heads.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
“I’m good. He…I don’t know what he knows about Mariposans, but he was locked in on my wings.” You said, shivering at the thought. “Someone must have told him to aim there.”
“You think the First Order has a Mariposan?”
“Maybe.” You said. “He…he mentioned someone named Mothim. That’s…vaguely Mariposan-sounding.”
You watched the sky, the X-Wings rounding up. Jessika had her helmet tucked under her arm, which started talking, Poe’s voice coming through the headset. You could have cried with relief that he was alright.
“Pava, come in. Are you alive out there? We don’t have eyes on your X-Wing.”
“I’m alive, Black Leader. Boarding one of the transports on the ground. They hit me in the right wing, but one of the Jedi caught me on the way down.”
He chuckled and you could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “That is great news. We’ll see you back at base.”
You watched as the X-Wings took off, hitting lightspeed in rapid succession. Your own transport followed suit not long after, once everyone was accounted for and all the systems had been checked for damage. You breathed, focusing on the quiet until finally, the ship landed and the ramp lowered.
You walked out, surveying the crowd of celebrating rebels when you spotted BB-8 whirring at you at full speed, beeping a mile a minute. He looked you up and down and then sped away, straight to Poe, who looked down at him. His little head swivelled to you and back.
“(Y/N)!”
Poe sprinted over, pulling you into his arms the second he was close enough. He let out a long breath, his gloved hand cradling the back of your head as he held you. You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his shoulder, wings twitching before relaxing completely.
“You…you’re alright? I saw him go after you. I wanted to shoot, but I couldn’t get a clean shot.” He said, regret in his voice, guilt on his brow.
“I’m okay, Poe. Really.” You told him, pulling away for a moment to get a glimpse at his face, check him over for injuries. There was sweat dotted on his forehead, wetting the curls at the edge of his hairline. “I thought it was your ship coming down. I was so scared.”
He shook his head, taking a moment to peel off his gloves so he could touch your cheek with his hand, skin impossibly warm. He rested his forehead against yours, the movement familiar and comfortable. “You saved one of my pilots. I…just when I think you can’t possibly impress me more…”
You wanted to kiss him so badly. So, so badly. Just surge forward and collect his lips as he uttered his sweet, flattering words. You could tell he wanted it, too. That victory kiss.
“Poe…” You murmured, mouth impossibly close.
“I’m right here, baby.” He whispered in response, voice gentle, eyes soft. Sparkling with anticipation. “We’re okay.”
Your breath hitched at the petname, heart racing faster than his X-Wing. You repeated his words. “We’re okay.”
He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. He took a long breath and then hooked an arm around your waist again, pulling you close as he pressed a long kiss to your cheek. He buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling what was left of your perfume, diluted, you were sure, by the smoke from the battle.
Mood lightening considerably once he’d processed that you were actually okay, that you’d won, that you and Rey had fought off Kylo Ren, he chuckled to himself, remembering your original  plans for the day.
“Sorry about our date, but…she’s probably gonna need some repairs before I take her up again.” He looked back at his X-Wing, untangling himself from you, but keeping an arm anchored around your waist, just beneath the base of your wings. It tickled, where his orange sleeve touched the soft tissue, but you didn’t dare move him.
BB-8 beeped up at him, agitated.
“I was careful, Bee, why do you think we’re standing here?”
He beeped something complimentary of your performance out in the battle.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He grinned, proud. “Really, you were awesome out there.”
“So were you, flyboy. I lost count of how many TIE fighters you took down. Are you sure you’re not Force sensitive?”
He smiled that prettyboy smile, reaching over to wipe some soot from your face, thumb moving deliberately, focused on one spot. “Pretty sure. I’ve just had a lot of practice.”
You saw Soren, ready to approach you, but giving you a minute with your pilot. You nodded at him, a promise that you’d be over there soon.
“I better check on my team. Make sure everyone’s in one piece.” Poe said, looking back towards the hangar where the pilots and mechs were conversing, figure out what all needed to be fixed after the skirmish. “Will, uh…would you grab dinner with me later? You know, since our date got rained out and all…”
You nodded, smiled at him. You put a hand on his cheek and guided him closer, pressing a kiss just beneath his scar. “Dinner sounds great. But when that ship is fixed, I better be first in line for that joyride you promised me.”
He laughed, nodding. “Absolutely, your Highness.”
You went your separate ways, his hand lingering on yours until the last possible second until you were finally pulled apart. And yet, as you met with the other members of the Resistance, talking over the battle, taking stock of everything, he was the only thing you could think of, the feeling of his lips still lingering against your cheek.
Vintage Diplomacy
After the battle, you spent the coming days doing strength training for your wings. Your flight across the ground had opened your eyes. If you could cover ground like that regularly, it could be lifesaving.
You’d spend mornings up in the clearing on the hill. Artoo found you up there once and asked what you were doing as you hovered, wings fluttering impossibly fast. You started with five second bursts, then ten, then twenty.
Artoo timed you, let you know when to stop. And that was how Poe found you one morning before a strategy meeting with the General, as well as her Admirals and Commanders. You’d been hovering for nearly a full minute, kicking up a small breeze in your wake.
You touched down when you saw him approaching, wings folding down with record speed as Artoo gave you the breakdown. Your longest yet. With more training, who knew? Maybe you could be the first Mariposan to rediscover the power of true flight. You could certainly hope.
You stretched out your back, hands on your hips stretching both ways. You hoped the soreness meant you were building muscle, if that was how that worked.
“Hey, Princess. Thought I might find you up here. You eat breakfast yet?”
“Yeah, I had something before I came out here.” You replied.
“Good. Meeting starts soon.”
“Thought so.” You glanced at your watch. “Shall we?”
“Lead the way.” He motioned. He was wearing a leather jacket you hadn’t seen on him yet. It was brown, a rebel patch on the shoulder. Definitely vintage.
“Cool jacket.”
“You like it?” He asked with a smirk.
“Yeah. Is it vintage?”
“It is, actually. Good eye.” He rested his hands on his belt buckle. “Not as vintage as you, of course, your Highness.”
“Hey!” You elbowed him and he elbowed you back, both of you laughing as you strode into the meeting together.
A few eyes caught you, knowing looks exchanged between the other assembled people. You said some hellos, exchanged the necessary pleasantries. You greeted your sister, who smiled warmly when she saw you and Poe walk in together.
You were sure after your little, uh, victory celebration out in the middle of the base, that everyone there must have thought you were dating behind closed doors.
You wished they were right.
Poe sat with the pilots, but you could feel his eyes on you as you mingled with the folks filing into the seats around you. Rey, as always, took the seat next to yours. On your other side, Soren. There was always a certain energy to the room when the Jedi were all together. People paid attention.
Before long, General Organa started the meeting. The main topic of interest: Resistance allies, or the lack thereof.
Since the battle at Crait, Leia had been trying to get in contact with anyone she could think of, friends new and old, anyone the Resistance had helped, but responses were few and far between. The First Order had done their best to silence or…eliminate anyone who wasn’t loyal to them.
“What we’re running low on is hope.” Leia said. “The people don’t think we stand a chance against the First Order. They’d rather hide in fear than stand up and fight. And if we don’t find some allies soon…it’s a matter of time before they take us out. We’re already running on scraps here.”
Chewbacca roared out his support.
“More outreach.” Another Admiral suggested. “The people saw what we did for them in the Endor system, that we stand up for them when it matters. Hell, we got twenty new recruits from that battle alone. When people see the difference we make, they want to fight with us.”
“I think our next move needs to be diplomacy, General. It’s been a while since we’ve had representatives at any events raising awareness.” Your sister reasoned. “How are they supposed to know we’re still here if they never see us?”
“But who would go?” Leia asked, scanning the room. “Diplomatic training hasn’t been very high on our regimen, I’m afraid.”
“I can go.” You volunteered. The eyes in the room fell on you quickly, like they’d been expecting you to say it. “The First Order already knows I’m alive, our allies should, too. They think we have one Jedi, we have three. I think that would spark quite a bit of hope, General. Besides, I have the diplomatic training and I never get to use it.”
She smiled, eyes sparkling. “I was hoping you’d say that. I did catch wind of a gala. It’s…mostly safe. Former Rebel sympathizers, a formal event. It would be as good a place as ever to make a debut. You’ll need a pilot of course, to–”
“I’ll go, General.” Poe volunteered before anyone else even had the chance. “I’ll escort the princess. It would be my honor.”
Leia gave a small, professional smile that you could tell she was all she could do to keep from laughing at the sheer speed with which he offered himself up for the mission. She thought about making him fight for it, and she knew he would. Poe Dameron was nothing if not stubborn, ambitious. It was why she respected him so much.
And at the same time, she knew exactly what would happen if she sent the two of you there, together. Alone.
Maybe it was about time.
“Great. Get packed. It’s tonight, three systems out. Take the Falcon.”
***
After the meeting, you went straight to your quarters, shuffling through your closet for anything…formal. You had a lot of Jedi robes, that was for sure, which might have suited an event like this in the olden days, before even your time, but now…all it would ensure was that you would stick out more than you already did.
“Thought I’d find you here.” Laesynda said, standing in the doorway. “I might have something that’ll work.”
You followed her to her quarters. She opened her wardrobe and pushed aside some clothes, reaching for something specific. She pulled it out with a flourish. A long, midnight blue gown. Off the shoulder. It glittered like stars and truly did look fit for a princess to wear. With it, she had a silver circlet, some silver Mariposan cuff bracelets.
“Mom’s…” You remembered, a hand drifting down the sparkling fabric.
Laesynda nodded. “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. Maybe I knew you’d need it someday.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course. Now, let’s get you dressed. Sounds like you have a flight to catch.”
Laesynda helped you into the gown, adjusting the flowing fabric so it sat just so, helping to slip your wings through the slot sewn in specifically for them. It was nice, wearing Mariposan garb again, something you didn’t have to adjust in order to wear comfortably.
She put your hair in a simple style, braiding the front pieces back, setting the circlet on your head. You put on the cuffs, put on a silver belt and strapped your saber to it, the final piece of the puzzle. The metal tones clashed, but maybe that was okay. It would stand out, at the very least.
“How do I look?”
“Like a princess.” She replied, a hand reaching out to touch your face. “And like Mom.”
You couldn’t help but tear up a little bit when she said it. She carefully tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, giving a final nod. You were ready.
You stopped back into your room, packed a bag with some essentials. Among your things, you found your wooden box of Rebel memorabilia. Pins, cuff links, a pair of dangling silver earrings. You tucked it into the bag as well, along with another change of clothes for after the party. As gorgeous as the gown was, you doubted you’d want to be in it all night. You knew how these kinds of parties went. They were long and socially exhausting. You’d be longing for those Resistance standard sweatpants at the end of it.
There was a knock on the doorframe, your door still open. You expected it to be Laesyndra, having forgotten something. Instead, it was Poe, holding a garment bag that you assumed contained his formal wear.
“Tried to get the General let me take my flight suit out for ya, but she wasn’t having it. You ready for–” He stared, voice dropping off once he spotted you, dressed in a dazzling, midnight gown. “Oh. Wow…”
“Ready for…?” You raised an eyebrow, walking closer with slow strides.
“For takeoff?” He asked, Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes half-lidded. “Chewie warmed up the Falcon for us.”
You smiled warmly, nodding. “All packed, Commander. Ready when you are.”
“Perfect. Right. Well, let’s…” He offered his arm and you took it, slipping your arm through his, your bag slung over the other shoulder.
You gave his bicep a playful squeeze, laughter bubbling out of your painted lips. “Loth-cat got your tongue, Dameron? It’s just me.”
He let out a chuckle, meeting your eyes. “That’s the problem, your Highness.”
This Changes Everything
Your friends saw you off, complimenting you endlessly. Rey and Rose demanded you twirl around, showing off the look, which you gladly did.
“You look dazzling, Princess.” Threepio complimented, giving a little bow, arms poised at their odd angles.
“Thank you, Threepio. It was my mother’s.” You said, a sad, proud glimmer in your eye. Poe caught it immediately.
Artoo came with, but otherwise, it was just you and Poe in that big ship. He put in the coordinates, lifted off the planet, and put it into hyperdrive, with you in the passenger seat. Once it was on autopilot, you were free to move around the cabin.
Poe took his garment bag from one of the other seats and moved towards one of the Falcon’s tiny bed cabins to change. In the meantime, you found a mirror and put in a pair of earrings from your box of Rebel trinkets. They were the Rebellion’s symbol, silver and dangling from tiny chains. They completed the look.
Poe emerged a few minutes later, wearing a dark blue formal tunic, dramatic diagonal trim highlighting his shoulders. It was paired with matching navy pants, some black loafers with silver buckles.
“There was a hat, too, but I thought it would be too much.” He said, standing stiff while you looked him over, eyes roving his figure.
“Covering hair like that would be a crime, I think.” You told him, earning a chuckle and that dashing smile.
Your eyes lingered on the ends of his sleeves and you dug around in your box until you found a pair of cufflinks. You walked over to him, grabbing his hand and inserting one of the cufflinks into the end of his sleeve.
“Where’d you get this stuff?” He asked, watching your careful movements as you switched sleeves, putting the other one in as well.
“I’ve had it. Held onto it after the war. Figured we’d wear them to…charity events or something.” You shrugged. You rummaged around the box for a lapel pin, focused as you pinned it to one side of his tunic, straightening it with a quick movement. “Never thought we’d need them for war fundraising, but here we are…”
“My parents were Rebels, you know.” He confessed, voice soft, eyes softer. He’d been holding onto it, unsure why he’d never found the opportunity to tell you until now. Maybe he was afraid the information would shift your already teetering dynamic.
“Hence the jacket.” You noted, meeting his gaze, fingers still lingering on the pin. The wheels turned in your head and your jaw dropped, finally seeing it in his face. Those brows. That nose. Those eyes. “You’re…you’re Kes Dameron’s kid.”
He chuckled and nodded, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. I am. You knew him?”
“I did know him.” You laughed to yourself shaking your head. “Maker, I can’t believe I didn’t put those pieces together. He worked with Han and the pathfinders. I worked with Leia. It was kind of inevitable that our paths crossed. He was a great guy.”
“Is a great guy.” He said. “He still lives on Yavin. That’s where I grew up.”
You hummed, nodding. “That’s really good news, Poe. I’d…I’d love to see him sometime.”
“I’m sure he’d love to see you when all of this is over.” He said, eyes softening when he spoke of home, of family. “Mom was a pilot. Maybe you knew her. Her name was Shara.”
You gasped softly. “You’re…you’re Shara’s son? Shara Bey?”
Poe nodded, smiling. “I am.”
“Poe…I…” You teared up, studying him, dividing his features in your head, which had come from Shara, from Kes. You touched his face, laughed sadly, happy memories bubbling to the surface. “Shara was…so special. She was my bunkmate on Hoth. She and I kept watch together twice a week. We ate lunch together almost every day. We shared wine bottles at parties. I…I always thought there was something going on between her and Kes, but they kept it very professional. Didn’t know they were engaged until after the war.”
Poe got a little misty, nostalgia swirled in his warm brown eyes.
“We don’t have to talk about it, I’m sorry…”
He shook his head, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “You were there. I always forget you were there. I can’t believe you knew them…”
“Maker, I could tell you so many stories…”
“I want you to. I want to hear all about them when we get home.”
“Okay.” You nodded, shedding a single tear that he was quick to wipe away, pulling you into a hug instead.
He pressed a long kiss to the crown of your head, arms tight around your shoulders, yours wrapped around his middle. You listened to his heart, hammering away beneath his tunic. You felt his lips on your forehead again, lingering for longer this time before he rested his head against yours, swaying slightly with you in his hold.
Eventually, Artoo rolled into the room, beeping to let you know you were getting close.
“Thank you, Artoo.”
He complimented Poe’s pin with a series of beeps and Poe grinned and thanked him.
“Here, I’ve probably got a magnet in here you can wear.” You said, rummaging through your box until you found one. You knelt down and he rolled forward, letting you stick it to one of his panels.
He beeped and whirred in approval, asking how he looked.
“You look very sharp.” You assured him. “You fit right in, now.”
Poe wandered into the cockpit, standing between the back row of seats, watching as the stars flew by at lightspeed. You stepped in after him and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders without a second thought.
He was your pilot, you were his princess. That was all that mattered. You rested your head against him, watching the stars.
***
The gala was being held at a nice hotel, chandeliers glimmering above, painted portraits hanging on the wall and abstract sculptures sitting on pedestals. It reminded you of home, in a way, if Mariposas had been colorless and stiff. There was soft music playing, a band tucked into the corner of the room. Poe took your arm, escorting you through the room of senators and leaders, former Rebellion members.
It was clear that this gala was pretending to be something it was not. On the outside, it had been bolstered as an academy class reunion, probably to drive off any First Order loyalists, keep them off the trail, inside was a completely different story.
You knew these people. A lot of them, wrinkled and graying though they were. Pathfinders, pilots, ground fighters, comm techs…these had been your brothers and sisters on base, and a decent amount of them, seemingly, had bloomed into important people in their own right.
What was holding them back from helping, you wondered, scanning the room. Maybe it was just the fear of the First Order, of making themselves vulnerable just to be eliminated without a second thought. But as the eyes in the room found you, the whispers picked up, speculating how it was you were there, standing there, living and breathing after all this time.
“How’s that for a first impression…” Poe murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, watching the way these legends reacted to seeing you.
“Time to finally use these stares and whispers to our advantage.” You said, leading him over to a corner where some former fighters were standing. You picked one from the crowd, calling his name to your mind. After all, it had only been two years since you’d seen him.
“Y-your Highness?” He asked, looking you up and down. He glanced at the others, as if to make sure you weren’t some Force Ghost standing there in front of him, that they were seeing it too. “I thought you were…”
“Dead? Lots of folks seem to think so.” You replied, offering your hand, which he shook vigorously. “It’s good to see you, Lieutenant. How’s Marsha?”
That was how it started. You navigated through the room, a walking myth.
Once you made your rounds, Poe at your side, chatting with the people gathered there, you felt a tap on your arm and turned to find him. Lando Calrissian in the flesh.
“I was wondering if I might steal a dance, Princess. If you’re not too busy with the Commander here.” Lando motioned to Poe, whose mouth fell open at his sudden appearance.
“Lando!” You all but jumped into his arms, captured quickly in a tight hug. He swayed back and forth, laughing.
“Maker, Leia was right. You really haven’t aged a day.” He said, taking a moment to look at you. He spun you around. “Can’t say the same for the rest of us.”
“You look great Lando. I was wondering when I’d finally get to see you. How have you been?”
“Oh, same old. Leia tipped me off about this…reunion. Thought I could help finally win these stuffy old guys over.”
“No such luck, I’m guessing.” Poe said, scanning the room.
“Not yet.” Lando winked at you. “That’s why she sent her secret weapon.”
“Not so secret anymore.” You said, trying to ignore all the eyes in your peripheral vision.
Lando introduced and reintroduced you to a handful of old colleagues. One of them, a senator now, stiffened at the sight of you, looking you up and down.
“Leia…dressed you up just like her. It would be convincing, if not for the fake wings.” He said with a sneer. “Almost had me there for a second.”
You chuckled softly, malice creeping into your eyes. “Fake wings?” You repeated, raising them slightly.
“I’ve seen them in action, Senator. I assure you, these things are the real deal.” Poe said, expression guarded, tone painfully casual.
Artoo beeped something at him, agitated, but the senator batted a hand. “I don’t speak droid.”
“I can’t translate what he said anyway, it’s hardly appropriate for an event like this.” You said with a laugh. “Do you need another drink?”
“That’s not–” He started to argue, but you held out a hand, using the Force to pull a champagne flute from across the room. It glided smoothly through the air and hovered in front of him. He stared at it, dropping the empty glass in his own hand. He looked up at you in horror as Poe laughed. “You’re her.”
“Obviously.” You replied, plucking the drink from the air and handing it to him. “I know it’s hard to believe. It’s a long story, but I was saved by one very daring pilot, a Jedi, and a fighter after a long time asleep. Imagine my surprise at waking up to another war.”
He shook his head, brows furrowed. “What war?”
“The First Order. The Resistance. Are you unaware of the conflicts, or just too callous to care this time, elevated position and all?” You asked.
“The need for fighting is over.” He said, shaking his head. “I had my war, I’m sure we can all just live in peace.”
“Senator, I don’t know if you’ve been out there, but it’s bad.” Poe said, eyes serious. “What they did to the New Republic…”
“Was a horrible incident, I’m sure, but that doesn’t mean we can all just…hop in an X-Wing and blow things up.”
You laughed at that. “You didn’t even do that the first time. You failed your flight test, if I remember correctly, Senator. Was it two times, or three?”
He scoffed, clearly offended. “Well, I–”
Poe’s eyes lit up, watching as you warmed up to take your shot.
“Don’t you remember what things were like? Under the Empire? Maybe it’s been too long for you. I know thirty years is a long time to hold onto memories, but…it’s only been two years for me. Two years since the Battle of Endor. Two years of quiet after. I remember how bad it was and this is worse. The weapons they have, the forces, the numbers. They have a Sith trying to outshine Darth Vader and Maker knows what else hidden on those Star Destroyers. They are taking children and ruining lives. One of our best friends is a former trooper. I wish he was here to tell you himself the horrors he’s seen aboard those vessels. They can destroy planets with a few button presses. Maybe you feel safe right now. Maybe you’re playing into their pocket, who knows, but someday, they’ll turn on you, too, and there will be no one left to protect you because you didn’t help the Resistance fight back.”
The room fell silent, every ear tuning into your fiery words. Lando let out a proud little laugh.
Someone across the room stepped forward, meeting your eyes. Wedge. Wedge Antilles. One of the best Rebel pilots there was. He’d been great friends with Luke, so you’d known him pretty well. It was good to see he was still around.
“Well, your Highness, where do we sign up?”
***
After a few more hours of networking, of Poe handing out tokens for further communication, taking pledges and handing out contact information for any people they knew who’d like to enlist in the Rebellion, the three of you–you, Poe and Artoo, that is–said your goodbyes and headed back to the ship.
As soon as the ramp was closed, Poe’s face broke into a victorious smile and he took you in his arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. Laughter bubbled from your lips.
“That was insane!” A triumphant laugh escaped him. “You flipped that whole room in less than a minute! I…I…” He set you down, unable to wipe the smile from his face. “I can’t believe that just happened. This changes…everything. We’re gonna have so many new recruits. We’re gonna be able to get so many supplies…”
“New pilots?” You asked.
“New X-Wings. New ships. New blasters. Kriff, new uniforms, even.” He smiled, grabbing onto your arms, just above the flowing, off-the-shoulder sleeves. “Wow, I dunno, I had my doubts when Leia sent me four systems out for a shiny rock, but…I don’t know what we’d do without you here.” He met your eyes, took a step closer, dipped his head down. “I don’t know what I’d do without you here…”
You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t dance around him and pretend your heart wasn’t on fire just looking at him.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer, lips capturing his easily, as you had in your fantasies so many times. He gasped into your mouth, arms winding around your waist and pulling you against him, lips passionate and experienced. Poe held you there with one arm, the other traveling up into your hair.
Your nose brushed against his as he twisted, getting an even better angle, teeth nipping at your lip. You reached up and cupped his cheek, thumb brushing through the stubble accumulated there.
He pulled back, forehead against yours, breaths ragged as his eyes searched your face, looking for some evidence that that had happened, that it was real this time.
“Say something,” you whispered, hand still anchored against his cheek, eyes sparkling with insecurity. “Please.”
“Give me a second. I’ve never kissed a princess before.” He murmured, kissing your forehead, then your cheeks, pressing another long one to your lips. Soft, but filled with so much passion. He let out a breathy chuckle, meeting your eyes. “Maker, you have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of doing that.”
You bit your lip, a guilty little smile twisting your mouth. “Actually, about that…”
Poe’s eyes widened, jaw dropping before the shock melted into an embarrassed grin. “You…you could feel it, huh? The whole time?”
“More or less.” You confessed. You pulled him back into you and he didn’t resist, nose brushing yours as you whispered, “I couldn’t tell if they were your fantasies or mine, to be honest.”
He stepped forward, cupping your cheek as he captured your lips again, hungrier this time, lit up by your words, by your confession, that you had felt this way about him for just as long as he’d been drawn to you.
Another step forward and your exposed back touched the cold metal of a wall panel, one of Poe’s hands taking yours, fingers interlacing as he held it up against the wall. His other hand tugged your waist closer, closer, closer, like he was trying to fuse the two of you into one person.
You crooned, hooking your arm around his neck, keeping him there.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, lips trailing down your neck before crushing against yours again. “Use one of your Jedi Mind Tricks or something.”
“I can’t.” You laughed against him. “They wouldn’t work on you anyway and…I don’t want you to stop.”
“Well good, because I don’t think I can…” He said with a chuckle, nose smushed against yours. He kissed you again, movements tender and slow, smiling against you when he heard your breath hitch. “I thought Jedi weren’t allowed to fall in love. I would have done this so much sooner…”
You laughed. “That’s what was stopping you? I thought you weren’t afraid of bending the rules, Commander.”
Poe let out a breath, smirking. “Well yeah, but…you’re a princess. I thought you might not be so keen on rulebreaking.”
“Well the good news is, there aren’t any rules against Jedi falling in love anymore.” You murmured, resting your forehead against his, hands tugging on the trim of his tunic. “But if there were…I would break them for you, Poe Dameron.”
He grinned that flyboy grin, going in for one last kiss, then another, then one final, lingering kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs, the butterflies in your stomach flying loop-de-loops that rivaled any maneuver he could pull off with his X-Wing.
Soon, you knew you’d have to fly back to base, update Leia on the progress you’d made, return to your schedules and duties.
But now, you shared your breaths with him, heart racing as he cupped your cheeks, whispering sweet words against your lips, promises to steal away more time together as soon as the Maker would allow.
A Little Rebel Spirit
Poe slept in your bed that night.
Your mattress was hardly big enough for one of you let alone both of you, but he didn’t mind, changing out of his formal tunic, carefully returning your Rebellion trinkets to their special little box, and laying in your bed, watching you, hands folded on his toned tan chest, the chain around his neck glimmering against his skin.
You’d changed into some sleep shorts and a tanktop you’d modified for your wings. When you turned to face him again in the dim bedroom, he gasped, eyes falling on your thigh. More specifically, the large tattoo piece stretched across your skin.
“You have a tattoo?” He asked, almost scandalized. “Princess, I knew you were a Rebel, but I didn’t know you were so rebellious.”
“You wanna know what’s rebellious…Leia did this.” You said, fingers skimming over the artwork.
His jaw dropped. “No fucking way.”
“Yes way.” You nodded, walking over to the bed and sat beside him, propping your leg atop his so he could see better.
He ran a large hand over the tattoo, the sheer warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine. “When?”
“Three years ago.” You answered, before correcting “Thirty-three years ago. We were on some planet, there was a market and she got a tattoo gun for like…twelve credits, which should have been the first red flag.”
“And you let her do that?” He asked, laughing.
“Well yeah. She’s my best friend. I knew it would drive my parents nuts, their second in line for the throne defiling her skin, but…I didn’t really expect to survive the war, to be honest. Besides, I was the spare, what were they gonna do about it? I knew I was never going to be queen.” You said with a shrug. “It’s not half bad anyways. She’s a talented artist.”
“This is…that tree, isn’t it. The one on Mariposas.” He said, studying the lines, the shading. It was a large, sprawling tree, branches thick, covered in flowers. Roots twisted down your thigh, headed towards your knee, and in the roots, were a few stray butterflies. Above it, three moons, their shaded crescents in various stages of their cycles.
You nodded. “The Monarch Tree. From which, all life on Mariposas bloomed, or so the legends go.” You guided his hand further down the art, to where the roots curled into a subtle version of the symbol of the Rebellion. “This was by special request.”
His features glowed with recognition and he met your eyes, reaching up to smooth the hair out of your face. “Wow, that’s…that’s really hot, I’ll be honest.”
You giggled, shifting your body towards him. “Yeah? A little Rebel spirit is what does it for you?”
“You’re one to talk. You’re into that silly orange jumpsuit of mine.” He teased, hand hooking your knee and tugging your leg to the other side of his hips, so you were straddling him, hovering inches from his face.
Your wings twitched behind you as you cupped his face with both hands, nose pressed to his. Tenderly, slowly, you inched in, grinning when he got impatient and chased your lips, hands wandering up to your waist to tug you closer.
“You know, honestly Poe, it’s not so much the jumpsuit as it is the thought of…taking it off of you. How easy it would be to just…reach out and unzip it a little.” Mischief glimmered in your eyes. “With the Force.”
He let out a broken groan at that, throwing his head back towards the wall. “You can’t just say that when I’m not wearing it.”
You smiled, coy. “Next time, perhaps.”
“Oh, there’s no question about that, sweetheart.” He had fire in his eyes when he pulled you towards him, crushing his lips to yours, tongue teasing at the seam between your mouths. You let him in, the taste of him rolling across your tongue, minty fresh from his toothpaste.
You threaded your fingers through his curls, letting out a whine when his lips left yours and started trailing down your neck, stubble rough against the sensitive skin. His hand ghosted up your back, finding the base of your wings, calloused fingertips brushing against the spot between them.
Tingles shot through your limbs like firecrackers and you crumbled against him.
He froze, the panic setting in. “Woahhh, sorry, sorry, is that not an okay spot?”
You took a deep breath, reaching up to cup his cheek, turning his face towards you as best you could from your spot tucked into his shoulder. You laughed sheepishly, cheeks flushed. “S’fine, Poe. I’m okay.”
“No, if it’s not fine, you need to tell me. Baby, I’ve never…touched a Mariposan before, I don’t know what I’m doing.” He confessed.
“It’s…that spot is the most sensitive spot on my whole body.” You said through laughs, pulling his face down to meet yours. “So we just went zero to a thousand all at once.”
“Oh.” He laughed. “So it’s a no-go zone.”
“It’s a ‘we have to work up to that’ zone.” You amended, pressing a kiss to his lips, adjusting yourself so you were a little more upright. “You can touch it, but…it has to be featherlight. Unless we’ve gotten there.”
“Okay.” He nodded, nose brushing against yours. “So, do they…have feeling in them?” He asked, hand hovering just above the crest of one of your wings, still a little afraid to outright touch them, despite the fact that he already had, that night in the kitchens.
“Mmhmm.” You spread one out for him, an invitation. “You can touch them. Just be gentle. Like before.”
Poe reached out, running the palm of his hand down the length of one wing, tingles running down your back as he did.
You let out a contented sigh, lulling against his chest as your muscles relaxed.
“Does it feel good?”
“Yeah.” You kissed his cheek, then the corner of his lips, hand resting against his chest. “It’s like…having your hair played with.”
He smiled at that, continuing the gentle movements while you were curled up in his arms. He kissed you again, lips impossibly soft, like silk, the fine royal satins your sheets on Mariposas had been made of.
“You’re the only one allowed to touch them, though.” You told him.
“Just me?” He asked, absolutely enamored.
“Just you.” You punctuated it with a kiss that he readily reciprocated. “It’s…seen as a romantic thing, on Mariposas. Wing-touching is…very personal.”
“So when you let me touch them that night…”
“I was making a move, more or less. I knew you wouldn’t take it that way, though. It doesn’t mean much to outsiders.”
“It meant everything to me, Princess.” He whispered, kissing your forehead. He basked in the proximity, of the feeling of you in his arms, the way you slotted perfectly against him, like you were made for him. “Should have done my research. Would have saved us both some time.”
You laughed. “I doubt Laesynda would have told you that.”
“True.” He went quiet for a while, thinking over something before asking, “Do you…miss it?”
“Miss what?”
“Just…the way things were, before you went to sleep.” He asked. 
You could tell it had been weighing on him. If you missed people from before. If you missed the relationships you’d had. If you missed Luke.
“Sometimes. I miss Mariposas a lot. I miss my family. I didn’t even get the privilege of losing them, really, I just woke up and…they were gone. Had been gone for decades. I miss Han. I miss Luke…but…He left me there. He just…left me there to sleep for thirty years, so…” You let out a breath. “I try not to miss him more than he missed me.”
He nodded, listening quietly, hand still gently passing over your wing, the sensation soothing in indescribable ways. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that. If he kept at it, he would lull you right to sleep.
“But I like this life, too. I like training with Rey and Soren. I like making a difference again, fighting for something important. And someday, when the war is over, I’ll get to figure out what that peace looks like for me again.” You reached up, thumb gently grazing the skin beneath that tiny scar on his cheekbone. You pulled him to you, locking in a slow, sensual kiss. “I like you most of all, Poe Dameron.”
He smirked. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not.” You shook your head, eyes earnest. “You saved my life. You found that pendant. You woke me up. And every day since then, you’ve been finding little pieces of my heart I thought I’d lost decades ago.”
His lips captured yours again, breathing into it. They wandered, down your cheek, past your jaw, down to your neck again. You laced your fingers through his curls, relishing in the burn of his stubble against your skin.
“Maker, I’m so glad we found you…”
He whispered against the sensitive spot he’d found on your neck, the words echoing off the caverns of your mind. That voice. Those words.
It was him. Obviously it was, but the realization still struck you to your core. You’d dreamed of this, dreamed of him for years, and now he was finally yours.
Your pilot. Your Poe.
Can’t Change the Past, Starlight
You and Poe walked down to breakfast separately the next morning. He slipped out of your room carefully, watching for any techs that might be walking by, and hurrying from your room to his to change into some real clothes, as all he had in your room was the formal tunic Leia had loaned him. 
You timed your exit about fifteen minutes after, and ran into Rey and Finn in the hallway.
“How did it go?” Finn asked. “I was kind of worried. I never heard Poe come into the room last night.”
“Oh it was great. I’m sure we’ll hash it all out in the meeting later. Lots of new pledges, hopefully lots of new recruits, too. Ran into Lando Calrissian. He’s…an old friend.”
Rey’s jaw dropped. “The Lando Calrissian. Is he joining the Resistance?”
“He’s thinking about it.” You said with a smirk. “He’s always been hard to pin down, but I have a good feeling he’ll come around. Maker knows we could use his help.”
The canteen was bustling with folks, starting their day. Poe was sitting at the usual table with Rose. You grabbed some breakfast and slid into the seat across from him. A calculated move. He slid you a cup of caf, just the way you liked it.
“There you are. I was worried you’d gotten lost on the way to our room.” Finn said, searching Poe’s face. “Where’d you end up last night?”
“I…slept on the couch down in the lounge. Didn’t wanna wake you, we got back really late.” Poe lied.
Alright, you were officially doing this. You were officially hiding your relationship. It was kind of thrilling, you had to admit.
“Mmm.” Finn nodded, not buying it in the slightest. “Well, how’d it go?”
“Fantastic. (Y/N) has a real way with words.” Poe said, eyes sparkling. “Flipped the whole room, had everyone all fired up. We got so many new pledges and allies. It’s gonna take the droids forever to get all the files sorted.”
“Like I said, diplomatic training I never use.” You said with a shrug, taking a sip of caf.
“How’d you sleep?” Poe asked, meeting your eyes.
“Slept alright. Like you said, we got back late, so I didn’t get much of it.”
“Mmm. Sorry to hear that.” He said through a grin that he hid behind his mug. “I slept great.”
You kicked his leg under the table.
After breakfast, the group of you filed into the meeting, where you were somewhat surprised to see Lando, chatting with Leia. Once she spotted you, she motioned you over, hugging you tightly.
“I never doubted you, (Y/N), but I have to admit, I didn’t expect results like these. This changes everything.”
“I’m glad I could do my part, General.” You said, eyes glimmering. You turned to Lando. “Didn’t expect you to head here so fast.”
“How could I not? You need help. I should have been here a long time ago.” He said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. Just like old times. “I’m here for whatever you need, ladies. Just say the word.”
“Well right now, I need someone wrangling the new recruits. They need to be rounded up from outposts in the Outer Rim.” Leia said.
Lando saluted. “Just give me coordinates and a ship. I can make it happen.”
You left the two of them, turning to sit in your usual seat with the other Jedi. This meeting was a little more broad, more of the operatives from the middle ranks present in addition to the higher-ups.
Laesynda walked past, letting her hand brush on yours as she passed, a knowing smile on her face.
You avoided Poe’s gaze purposefully, but you could feel it on you from across the table. Business as usual, you supposed. He was always giving you those lovesick looks, but now there was something more in those warm brown eyes of his. You loved the feeling.
Leia started the meeting, opening with words of congratulations, the numbers from the previous night broken down in the projection on the holo in the middle of the room. The team burst into applause, several congratulative whoops and hollers sounding. Snap jostled Poe’s shoulder and he finally met your eyes, giving you that charming flyboy wink, handsome features illuminated in the teal light.
Leia moved to the next order of business, the intel Lando had been hard at work gathering. About Mariposas.
“The attack on Mariposas…I believe it was an inside job.” Lando said.
Your heart dropped into your stomach, ears ringing. You looked at Laesynda and she shared the same grim expression you were sure was on your face. You felt Poe’s eyes on you, watching as the rug was torn from beneath your feet.
“I don’t mean to impede on our celebration, I just…With three prominent Mariposans among our ranks, I think it’s a logical conclusion that…two of them were the targets of the original attack. So whoever tipped off the Empire splinter cells, if they’re still alive, could be interested in…”
“Finishing the job.” You said, suddenly exhausted.
“Yeah.” Lando nodded.
He brought up some diagnostics, a map of the planet, a breakdown of the attack. He talked those who were unfamiliar with it through what had happened. You watched as red bloomed across the Healer’s Temple, right where you were, blaster fire taking out the Refuge, where the Healers had retreated. A light attack up front to scare them, a heavy attack on their hiding spot to finish them off.
Immediately, you knew Lando was right. It was an inside job. Only someone who knew the innerworkings of the palace would have known the Healers retreated there in the case of an emergency. Someone who had grown up there, perhaps.
You bristled, watching as the attack continued, further details selling his point further. This was an attack that had been planned and executed by someone intimately familiar with your home. And someone who wanted you dead. Or at the very least, didn’t want you to wake up.
“Maddox.” The name left your mouth coated in venom. “My brother. Had to have been. Only the royal family would have known all of this, to exploit every weak spot in order.”
“Why would your brother…” Poe started, finally daring to speak up.
“He was jealous.” Laesynda said, the memories of him weighing her down, too. “Always jealous. He was the oldest, the heir to the throne. It still wasn’t enough for him. He was jealous (Y/N) was the Jedi of the family. Wanted it to be him.”
“Couldn’t have been our parents. I was asleep, Laesynda was ten. It had to have been Maddox.” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Maker, if he wanted me dead so bad, I don’t know why he didn’t just destroy my pod and kill me himself.”
“Because we were there.” Leia said, voice soft. “We were too late to stop the initial attack, but…Han and Lando got the shields up. I guarded your pod. Luke handled the cultists.”
You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Thank you.”
“By the time the fight was over, all of the Healers’ Pendants had been destroyed or…lost. We tried to use the Force to open your pod, but they were designed with that in mind. Only a healer could open it and they were…all gone.”
You took a long breath, nodding as she explained.
Lando looked at you, features apologetic. “And if he is indeed in the First Order, alive after all this time, it stands to reason that…he wouldn’t be happy that you’re awake again, your Highness.”
“Right. Do we have any…intel that he is? On either account, alive or currently working with the First Order?” You asked, adjusting your posture. Your wings twitched. Rey reached for your hand and you gave it to her, the touch comforting, albeit simple.
“Not yet, your Highness, but…We’re working to figure that out. I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page.” Lando said, turning the holo off with a click. “Wanted to make sure we all kept our guards up.”
Leia ran the team through a few other things, mostly preparation for new Resistance members she was anticipating. New quarters would have to be prepared, they’d have to arrange supplies and prepare to train dozens, maybe hundreds, of rookies.
After the meeting, you met Poe’s eyes for a moment. And then, you walked back to your quarters, paces brisk. Uncharacteristic of you to just leave one so early with no discussion of meal plans, no chatter with your peers, to just…disappear. Anyone who knew you would know there was something wrong. And Poe knew you.
The door slid shut behind you and you sat on the mattress, letting out a strangled yell, head in your hands, knees tucked up into your chest and wings flaring out behind you.
Your heart raced in the silence after the scream. The force of it, the Force of you had rattled the trinkets sitting on your dressers. You took a few breaths, leaning back against the wall and staring at the ceiling panel, tears streaming down your cheeks.
The door slid open again and Poe slipped inside, closing it behind him. He melted when he saw you there, looking utterly pathetic, you were sure.
“Hey, baby. You okay? That was some heavy stuff.” He crossed the room, sitting on the bed.
You shook your head and reached for him. He pulled you into his arms immediately, a large hand cradling your head, the other wrapped tight around you, legs draped over his. You buried your face in his shoulder, sobs muffled by his warmth.
He started tracing comforting patterns in your back, letting you get it all out before attempting to talk you through it.
“I feel so stupid, crying about it. It happened so long ago…” You confessed, voice soft and broken.
“Not for you.” Poe reasoned, pressing a kiss to your hairline. One gentle hand found your cheek and he used his thumb to gently wipe your tears away. “Everyone here knows it’s still fresh for you. Of course you’re torn up about it, I would be, too.”
You nodded, sniffling. “I always knew he hated me, but…I guess I just never knew how much. I thought after Endor, everything would cool off. But it doesn’t sound like that’s the case. It was quiet for a while, sure, but…I wasn’t here when things started getting bad. I wasn’t here to help when things got worse…”
He listened, empathy rooted deep in his warm brown eyes. “You’re here now.”
“Yeah, but…”
“What happened, happened. We can’t change the past, starlight.” He said, readjusting his hold, one arm cradling you while the other nestled against your cheek, still gently dabbing at your tears as they fell. “I’m just glad you’re here now. For selfish and unselfish reasons. Rey needs you. I need you. You’ve got a lot of good to do here, and you’ve already done so much.”
You nodded, absorbing his words. He was right. He always seemed to be. “What do you have going on today? Is there somewhere you need to be?”
“It can wait. I’m needed here.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your nose, gentle smile turning mischievous with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Besides, they’ll never find me in here.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little. Poe never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you were feeling like this.
“It’ll be alright, baby.” He reassured. The name still made your heart do flips in your chest. You much preferred it to your stuffy royal titles.
You sat further upright, kissing his soft pink lips. He kissed back, hand tilting your face just so with passionate precision. “I know it will. We’ll make sure of it this time.”
Rise of the Resistance
It wasn’t long before the new recruits started showing up. Lando ran what was akin to a shuttle service for a few weeks, running back and forth in a tiny transport, trying to avoid as much attention as possible. So far, it had worked.
The new folks were a bright bunch. Among them, Wedge Antilles, who had left behind his flight school, taking most of his pupils with him to help the cause.
“You know, as weird as this sounds, I missed it, Princess.” He admitted, hands on his hips, looking around the base, where soldiers ran in neat columns for their morning workout.
“Missed that Rebel air?”
He grinned. “Exactly that.”
Snap walked over, hugging him tightly and that was how you found out Wedge was Snap’s step-dad. Maker, it was a small galaxy after all. You and the other Jedi took a break from training, trying to help everyone get acclimated. You helped with giving tours, showed rookies where to get their breakfast and sleep, teaching them emergency protocol.
You set up a meditation room in an empty storage shed. It left something to be desired, but it was dimly lit, had some soft music playing, various toys and activities for Force training, cushions on the floor for those who could not float in the air while they meditated.
Aspen led some of the new recruits through while you were organizing your books.
“And this is Princess (Y/N) (L/N) of Mariposas, one of three Jedi we have on base.” She motioned to you. “If any of you think you might be Force-Sensitive, this is who you want to come to with questions.”
“We are always looking for new Jedi.” You said. “But this room is for everybody. If you need to get away for a bit, feel free to come here, do some meditation, read. It’s here for you. It gets rough out there, you need to take care of yourselves.”
Hours later, you had a tour group of your own, leading them through the comms center, then the mech workshop, droid repair, where BB-8 was getting a fresh paint job and beeped and whirred at you excitedly.
You led them past the hangar, where there were pilots milling around, about to head out on a perimeter check. Poe was there, stretching in that orange jumpsuit of his. You couldn’t fight the grin that formed when he spotted you, lighting up. He walked over, introducing himself to the group.
“Any pilots?” He asked, scanning your recruits, standing right next to you, hands on his hips, but his elbow brushing your side.
Professional. So, painfully professional.
“Reggie there.” You pointed him out and Reggie volunteered himself with a proud hand in the air.
“That’s the spirit. Welcome to the team, Reg.” He looked at you, glancing at your holo to take a peek at your schedule. “They’re not giving you too much trouble, I hope.”
“Nope, I’m all set with these guys. Bright bunch.” You replied, meeting those warm brown eyes, where mischief always seemed to sparkle.
“Right. Good. So, you don’t have anything penciled in after lunch?”
“I do not.” You confirmed.
“Alright. Well, uh, I’ve gotta hop in that X-Wing for perimeter checks. See you around, your Highness.” He promised, eyebrow quirked. He turned to Reggie. “Nice to meet you, Reggie. I’ll make sure you get acclimated.”
“Thank you, sir.” Reggie replied, starstruck.
You gave Poe a parting smile. Once the group had turned away, you glanced back. He motioned to the zipper of his jumpsuit, then looked at you with over-exaggerated expectation. Your jaw dropped and you rolled your eyes, laughing. Here in front of all of these people was not where you intended to use the Force to unzip his jumpsuit.
Still, you pinched your fingers together, focusing for a moment as you tugged it down the tiniest bit, just enough to tease him. He gasped, clearly not expecting you to actually do it. The way his eyes lit up, though, you could tell he was into it. Perhaps too into it.
The group didn’t notice, too busy buzzing about their future roles. Some of them were buzzing about other topics, like how hot your boyfriend was.
You moved them along to the next spot on the tour, but one of them pushed.
“Who was that?”
“Who, Commander Dameron?”
“He’s a Commander.” She giggled with the girl beside her. They couldn’t have been older than nineteen. It was kind of cute, admittedly. Harmless.
“Wow, he is something.” The other one agreed.
“Best pilot in the galaxy, in fact.” You chimed, heart surging with pride at your overly casual words. “I do think he’s seeing someone though, ladies.”
They both let out dramatic sighs. “Well, whoever they are, I hope they know how lucky they are.”
You chuckled, watching as his X-Wing pulled off into the air, doing a barrel roll right above the group. Now he was showing off. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t do something to you. “Oh she does.”
***
You ate lunch with Rey and Soren, welcoming a few of the new recruits to your table. Finn was busy with tours, too, training people to do various upkeep tasks around the base, keeping everything running smoothly. Poe was standing in the doorway and Rey looked up at him, then glanced at you, then back at him again.
“I think he’s trying to get your attention.” She chuckled, stabbing at the remains of her salad with a fork.
“Oh, is he?” You replied through a smile, still trying to keep up the act.
“I think he’s into you, you know. Finn and I talk about it sometimes.” She said, tone encouraging. “And he is his roommate. And his best friend.”
“Are you implying Finn has some information I should know?” You asked.
She laughed. “I very well may be. Honestly though, you should just go for it. I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that. May as well give it a shot.”
“Yeah.” You smiled at that. “Maybe I’ll go see what his deal is.”
“Good luck.” Rey said, watching as you crossed the room to where he was waiting in the doorway.
You met him with a cordial, professional smile. “Commander Dameron, is there something I can help you with?”
“Actually, yes, there is, Your Royal Highness.”
“Woah, busting out the big title? What’s the special occasion?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to take a walk down the hall with me.”
“Down the hall.” You said with a chuckle, pushing past him and leading him in that direction. Once you were out of earshot of the canteen, you muttered, “How romantic.”
“Oh I’ll show you romantic, Princess.” He replied, tugging open a closet door and grabbing your arm, pulling you inside. He locked the door with a careful click and then he was on you, calloused hands on your cheeks, lips fluid and hungry.
“Poe,” you mumbled into his lips, taken aback, heart revving like an engine.
“You wanna unzip it the rest of the way?” He asked, the rasp in his voice alone telling you he had been thinking about it all morning.
“That did something to you, huh?” You giggled into his mouth as he latched back on, his steps pushing until you hit the wall behind you.
“Sure did.” He agreed, releasing you and holding his arms open, orange jumpsuit there and ready for you, zipped nearly to the top. “Do it.”
“You sure?” You asked, raising a hand, wiggling your fingers with a coy smile on your face.
“Quit teasin’ me, baby.” He warned.
You bit back a laugh, focusing the zipper. You pinched your fingers together and pulled downwards, the zipper falling at your will without either of you touching it. He stared at it for a long moment, that  dangerous spark in his eyes again before he surged forward.
“That is…wow.” He murmured, fire behind his words. One hand cupped your cheek, the other holding your waist as he stepped closer, closer, closer, slotting himself between your legs.
You grabbed the sides of the jumpsuit, pulling it open, working it down his broad shoulders to reveal the thin white undershirt beneath. On top of it, the silver chain he always wore, a simple silver ring threaded through it. A ring you recognized as Shara’s.
“Rey and I had a…conversation…at lunch.” You said between kisses.
“Mmhmm, ‘bout what?” He asked, tilting your head and kissing down your neck. His other hand roamed lower, brushing across one of your wings, sending tingles up your arms.
You let out a shuttered breath, head tilting back against the wall. “She thinks…” another sigh escaped you as he continued to kiss the spot, jaw movements clouding your vision with stars, “you might be into me.”
His lips curled, poised over the vein on your neck. He paused for a moment. “Oh she does, does she?”
“Yeah, she has it on pretty good authority, apparently.” You said, daring to look down at him, at those dark, sultry eyes.
“Yeah, well, she’s not far off.” He breathed, going back in for your neck, determined to leave a mark in the short window of time you had before you and Soren were doing your ground perimeters. “I’m fucking obsessed with you, starlight.”
You moaned at his passioned ministrations on your neck, fingers threading through those lucious curls and giving a gentle tug. His hands hooked under your thighs and he hoisted you onto his hips, your back pressed against the wall of the tiny closet.
You met his eyes, breathless, wings fanned out behind you. “I can’t believe I get to have you, Poe Dameron.”
“Believe it.” He asserted, nose brushing against yours on the way to your lips. You cupped his cheeks with your hands, kissing all over his face before returning. “Kriff, I still wake up every day in disbelief that I get to do this in a closet with a Jedi Princess.”
“We won’t be in closets forever.” You whispered, eyes locking on his. It was a promise. Someday, everyone would know. It wouldn’t have to be a secret anymore.
He nodded, grinned. “Yeah, but…it is kinda thrilling, right?”
“Can’t argue with that.”
His eyes drifted down to your neck and he pulled a plush pink lip between his teeth, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Hey, uhhh…you have a turtleneck you can wear, right?”
Your jaw fell open. “You did not.”
“I might’ve.”
“You might’ve?” You shook your head. “Poe Dameron, what am I going to do with you?”
He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes half-lidded, lips ghosting across yours as he whispered, “More of this, I hope.”
***
Another week came and went. More recruits arrived, but things had hit something of a plateau. Still, your numbers were excellent, a far cry from the shell of a Resistance that had been left after Crait.
Poe was giving the new pilots a walk around the base, all of them suited up in their bright orange jumpsuits, having been fitted for them for the first time. You and Soren were out and about, dressed in your Jedi robes, lightsabers clipped to your belts. You must have just finished some training, he rationalized.
He noticed how some of the pilots in his group stared, watching the two of you with interest. He figured many of them had probably never seen a Jedi before. Hell, he hadn’t until Rey had moved those rocks from the mouth of the tunnel they’d all been trapped inside on that blasted salt planet.
“Is that one the Jedi Princess or the other Jedi?” one of the new pilots asked, voice hushed, as though you could hear his very thoughts at that distance.
“That one is the princess. You can tell by the wings.” Snap explained. “Poe’s good friends with her.”
Good friends. He thought to himself with a chuckle. Just like you and Karé are “good friends.”
“Is she single? Could you put in the good word?” another asked, earning elbows and enthusiastic hollers from his teammates.
Snap laughed out loud, glancing over at Poe, who could feel his ears burn. Cheeks, too.
“Oh, uhhh, Jedi actually aren’t allowed to fall in love.” He lied through a charming smile. “Believe me, I asked her myself. Breaks some ancient Jedi code or something. Sorry, fellas.”
The rookie pilots let out noises of disappointment and Poe couldn’t help but laugh to himself. There. That’d keep them off of you.
“They’re not, huh?” Snap asked, voice quiet enough that the others couldn’t hear. He motioned to you with his head. “Might want to tell her that.”
Snap was right. Poe glanced over and you were looking at him with that starry-eyed gaze. So lovesick he lost track of his footing, tripping right over BB-8, who had been rolling in front of him.
“Poe!”
Bee let out a series of disgruntled beeps and buzzes and he chuckled, embarrassed. He scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, Bee. You okay, buddy?”
Bee beeped up at you, seemingly unharmed. He was a sturdy little guy, after all.
“I agree, he needs to watch where he’s going.” You said, hands on your hips. You offered one, helping him to his feet. “You hear that, Dameron?”
“Loud and clear, your Highness.” He chuckled, brushing himself off.
“No serious damage?”
“Not that I can find.” Poe blew the hair from his eyes.
You reached up and plucked a single leaf from his curls, handing it to him. “There. For your collection.”
“Thanks, I’ll put it with the rest of ‘em.” He said with a smirk. Poe turned to the assembled rookies, who were murmuring amongst themselves. “Pilots, Princess (Y/N), Princess (Y/N), our new crop of pilots. Get acquainted with her. If you crash in the middle of a fight, she’s the one that’s gonna catch your X-Wing.”
“If it doesn’t blow up before that.” Snap added, earning a few unsettled laughs from the group.
It was a dangerous job. You’d always known that. You liked to think that you helped protect them when you could. When it was possible to. But Poe was always taking a risk when he climbed into that cockpit, even for something as simple as checking perimeters. He knew it, too, which is what made him so damn brave.
“Right. That.” Poe agreed with a bitter chuckle. “How was training?”
“Good. Making progress.” You said, shrugging. You and Soren hadn’t done anything groundbreaking, just sparring. But still, it felt good, like you were both making habits, challenging each other and learning little quirks of battle.
“Good. Good. Well, see ya around.” He gave your arm an awkward little touch.
You couldn’t help but laugh as you returned to Soren, who had a knowing look on his face. You knew then that he knew. That that Jedi intuition had finally clocked what was going on. But he didn’t say anything. Saved you the trouble of explaining yourself, why you were hiding it. 
The Resistance had enough going on. They didn’t need the drama of one of the Jedi entangled with their ace pilot. Especially if something went wrong.
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propaganda:
✅️ "Those hands can do a lot more than two people can"
✅️ "something something la petit mort"
✅️ "butterfly man would be so comforting to fuck like he would be reassuring you the entire time and have expert aftercare. frei would fuck you until youre senseless and then leave. smash both"
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