#sw first order imagine

[absinthehyuk]

love galore

pairing. ex boyfriend seungcheol + afab reader

summary. when you meet your ex at a charity event, you like to imagine that the universe just wants to kill you. luckily, the mysterious forces of nature have other plans.

w.c 0.9k

warnings. porn with very little plot, car sex, backseat shenanigans, riding, minor tit play, BIG DICK CHEOL!!!! steamy sex, skin slapping, petnames: hers baby, slut his cheol, cheollie — 18+ MINORS DNI!

a/n. exam szn testing my fucking patience. maybe i’m back. maybe i’m not. based off of the song love galore by sza but not rlly 🫶 also wtf we are at 800 followers?? thank you???!!!! also, i surived nnn ;)

this was supposed to be a relaxed evening for you, visiting the charity event in Gwangju just to look at some cute animals and donating for a good cause.

it was supposed to be a few hours that you didn’t spend moping about in your apartment after breaking up with someone who you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with.

well, the word ‘suppose’ doesn’t even cross your mind at the moment.

how could it, when his hands grab at your hips, his lips parted in a groan? when his mouth says your name so beautifully?

you’d not noticed seungcheol at first. not until you were on your knees stroking a moody ginger cat when suddenly someone’s fingers brushed against your own.

at first glance, you wanted to cuss him out. scream, yell, clock him in the jaw, commit arson– every crime under the sun.

but all you could do was helplessly moan like a desperate whore.

seungcheol hastily led you to his car, mouth melding with yours, opening the back door and practically throwing you inside. he tasted like mint and a hint of coffee. just the taste you liked.

nothing about the moment is soft. all that can be heard is his groans, your soft breaths and the lewd dance of your tongues.

“take your pants off,” seungcheol heaves, sitting upright in the backseat as he tugs you into his lap. one of his hands pushes his hair back, eyes dark as he scrutinizes you.

you follow his orders without batting an eye, unbuttoning your jeans with much difficulty in the cramped space and sliding them off.

seungcheol yanks your tank top down, spitting on your nipple as he spares it a lick. “missed you,” he mumbled, teething on your peak as if you hadn’t lost all train of thought the second his lips had met yours.

“missed you, missed these gorgeous tits, and of course, this needy pussy,” his fingers slide between your legs, prodding at your folds. “she’s still mine, right? or did you find someone else?”

you shake your head with a whine when his fingers enter you, feeling your tight walls contract around him. with the pad of his thumb on your engorged clit, seungcheol thrusts his fingers in, a pace that has your mind fogging.

“c-cheollie,” you hiccup, but he shushes you with a bite on your left nipple. “shush baby, just enjoy it,” his words are hoarse, as his tongue lavs over and over your perky mounds.

you can feel the impending telltale of your orgasm the second his fingers curl and they hit that spot inside of you. seungcheol feels a gush of arousal from you, not letting you cum, but just about there to silently remove his fingers and suck them into his mouth.

his cock replaces his fingers, and you just about lose the air from your lungs. no matter how many times you’ve had sex with him, it always feels like the first.

the fat tip pushes past your folds, slowly sinking you down on him. he hisses at the contact. “still so tight f’me... you’ve been a good girl, haven’t you? didn’t let anyone touch what’s mine, hm?”

he knows he’s blabbering, but when he notices the tears spring up to your eyes, seungcheol’s fingers, slightly wet from his saliva wipe them away.

“it’s okay, baby. i love you. i still do.”

you lean into his touch, relishing in the soft moment inside the steamy car when the bastard ruins it.

seungcheol bottoms out inside you, eliciting a moan that sounds so pornographic, you wonder why you’ve not switched careers yet.

the one thrust is enough for you to grab onto his shoulders, lips crashing against his with the power of a sea storm as you begin to ride him.

your tongue swirls with his, squelching noises coming from down below as he meets your thrusts halfway, hands planted on your hips. he sets the pace, your ass bouncing on his thighs, a noise that he has thoroughly yearned for.

“such a good little slut for me,” he whispers against your lips as you lean back, tits bouncing in his face as your thighs start to ache.

but you couldn’t care. not now anyway.

“so big inside me cheol... filling me up all the way,” you moan, eyes rolling as your lower stomach tightens slightly.

the stretch of his cock is too much, splitting your pussy into two in the best way possible. you feel every ridge and vein of his cock, twitching inside you as you praise his size. god, the man’s ego was almost as huge as his dick.

“gonna make me cum like that, baby,” seungcheol whispers, one of his hands leaving your hips to come up and squeeze your mounds. “want me to pull out?” he asks, flicking your nipple with a finger.

“fuck– hah! yes, pull out, pull out!”

with one last thrust and impeccable timing, you feel yourself cum, as he pulls out and releases all over your stomach. the white paints your skin and manages to land a few specks on your tank top.

seungcheol’s breathing is unsteady, as is yours. the sex induced fog seems to fade slightly, as you come down from the incredible high you’ve just experienced.

“stop looking like you regret this, y/n. i know you wanna come back to my place,” seungcheol pushes a strand of damp hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the sweaty skin of your jaw.

the moment is soft, a rare gem among the monstrous haze that the demon of lust had bestowed upon the two of you.

“what do you think, baby? wanna fuck on the couch like usual?”

oh, how you could you refuse that offer?

© absinthehyuk, 2024

[tossawary]

Something I found surprising when revisiting the prequel trilogy is how much the clones aren't full characters in the movies. They're props. They're devices. The films give them the same weight and attention as they give the Separatist droids, really. The only two clone troopers I can easily name off the top of my head who get "named" in any way are Oddball and Cody, who are both just barely in "Revenge of the Sith", and interchangeable in their roles with any other background clone.

It's interesting when held up against "The Clone Wars" and other extension material, which had the time and inclination to say more directly, "Hey, these are people and what's happening to them is wrong." Like, obviously what's happening in Ep2&3 is wrong, the audience can draw that conclusion on their own, growing people as cannon fodder is a clear part of the greater tragedy if you take about five seconds to think about the situation here. Even without the element of the entire war being constructed and controlled by the main villain, the clones are a tragedy.

But, oh man, the movies themselves don't really care to focus on that. It's SUCH a background element. I had a "oh, yeah, Order 66 being programmed into a control chip was a later addition to / clarification of canon" moment while watching, because as far as Ep3 actually shows us (as was the initial intention by some, I know), Cody apparently knew the entire time that he might be called to fire on Obi-Wan Kenobi and was just waiting on the call. The "homogenous evil army" trope is... very much present and even more identical than usual here.

By the films alone, you can easily assume that the clone troopers have no love for any of the Jedi (whom we're meant to believe are relatively decent people) for a variety of reasons. Their upbringing and training on Kamino was presumably cold and brutal. They're (possibly enslaved) soldiers in an even more brutal war. This army is offered no development or individuality that makes the appalling Jedi Temple massacre out of character for any of them.

But when the various Clone Wars shows first turned the clones into individual characters and even protagonists, many of whom are shown to be good people and become friendly with the Jedi through years of teamwork in life-or-death situations, Order 66 became weird. "Wait, why would the majority of clones (all the clones we see in the movies, at least) just go along with this? What went wrong here?"

I get why TCW and SW canon settled on the control chips option and I find it interesting enough. The tragedy of it all makes me want to lie facedown on the floor. Darth Sidious is really winning at sheer evilness here.

On the other hand, there are some really fun and interesting "Order 66 was taught, not programmed" AUs to revisit here. Especially when some of the other (Legends canon now) contingency orders include what to do if the Supreme Chancellor is incapacitated or declared unfit, or even getting rid of the Supreme Chancellor and assuming control by lethal force if necessary. Presumably these orders existed as a back-up in case Palpatine wasn't elected to the seat in time for the war or didn't manage to get rid of term limits and was replaced as Chancellor at any point.

That really sounds like Palpatine's evil army of ruthless Jedi-Killers (unchipped) could have easily backfired on him if they'd ever decided all of these non-clones were unfit and organized to take power for themselves. I love any scenario where Palpatine's arrogant and overly complicated plans get him in trouble. The "homogenous evil army" often gets treated as a mindless mob, but while the clones may have some degree of emotional suppression, they're clearly very capable and not unintelligent, and they're not given many (if any) reasons to be loyal to the Republic. And it is FUNNY to imagine any Dark Lord's created army deciding that he fucking sucks at war (there's obviously a leak, why the FUCK are they losing so much ground to fucking droids) and they're overthrowing him for better benefits, so that they can create and run a more efficient Evil Empire themselves.

You could make this angsty as hell or a comedy, or both. I'm imagining the clones at the eleventh hour murdering Chancellor Palpatine with such brutal efficiency that it feels like its own kind of prejudice. And he gets revealed as a Sith Lord in the process (this was taken into account as a potential problem when planning the assassination), so there's an initial moment of: "I can't believe it! He was the Sith Lord in the Senate all along! How did you know?"

Cody: "Didn't."

Obi-Wan: "...Pardon?"

Cody: "This is a coup, sir."

Like, if we're going by what's shown in the movies alone, there's a clear Emperor Cody AU to be had here. Which can be played as a temporary (years long) measure to reinstall a Republic with proper checks and balances, while a bemused Jedi Order and Senate are held hostage, or the First Galactic Empire is established as per canon just with the clones running it and reaping the benefits. I'm currently enjoying thinking about the latter scenario as a dark comedy, in which Future Emperor Cody (or the clone of your choice) has to negotiate in his spare time with the various demands of his fellow clones. (Who are, let us remember due to the horror that is the accelerated aging, a bunch of teenagers at the oldest here.)

Rex: "I want Tatooine."

Cody: "The whole planet?"

Rex: "Yeah."

Cody: "It's a shithole."

Rex: "Yeah, but it'll make Skywalker so kriffing mad, so I'm calling dibs."

Cody: "Noted."

And if you want to write shipfic, there's always the AU of various Evil Army Clones meeting their love interest and then going, "Not evil anymore! Sorry, guys." Which could be angsty or another dark-ish comedy.

Cody @ the clone commander group chat: "WE'RE NOT GIVING UP ON THE 3-YEAR IMPERIAL COUP PLAN JUST BECAUSE YOU HORNY ASSHOLES WANT TO FUCK JEDI!!! STOP TALKING ABOUT THE POWER OF LOVE!!! STOP IT!!!"

[ceoandslutler]

sebaciel nation: tips on how to write fics if you don't want to be ooc - mainly for first time writers

so i dropped the sequel to sws from last year and i thought, why not make a list of my best tips for writing the characters? clearly i did something right since people seem to think i write in character.

read the source material. i swear to god, it sounds simple but you can't know the canon intricacies of their relationship if you're anime-only. the anime doesn't show their relationship now (blue cult arc) and it doesn't show their development as smoothly. also reference their scenes in the manga in your fic. it will help, i promise. contextualise their actions by comparing it to their canon behaviours or at least make parallels. also read literature or even fanfics you like and try to see which writing style you want to write in- i don't read a lot of fanfic but i do read books (it helps).

research research research. the characters need to be in a lively world if they're going to be themselves. an underdeveloped world makes an underdeveloped character. even if you're writing canon divergence or an AU and want them to still be themselves, please go ham on research and incorporate the things you learn into your writing. if it's not possible to add it into the work smoothly, keep it in your mind and use it for a different fic. that way, you'll never run out of ideas. just make sure the world affects them. as character-driven kuro is, yana has been putting a lot more effort into the historical accuracy of kuro. doing the same will help.

this is the opposite of what everyone tells you but for kuro fic, get that thesaurus. learn as many new words as you can, use them in various contexts and figure out what sounds right. it can be difficult if english isn't your first language but practice makes perfect. the more flowery your language, the more you can layer and sophisticate your dialogue and symbolism. both ciel and sebastian are highly intelligent and in order to write their banter, you also need to have a healthy sense of wit.

follow this thought process: what is the action? who is doing the action (and if applicable, to whom)? where/when (in what context) is he doing the action? why is he doing the action? would/has he done this action in canon? if not, will it be acknowledged that he did something uncharacteristic? e.g. an example from my fic: dancing, sebastian dancing with ciel, in private before ciel's wedding, to teach him how to dance with elizabeth, yes he would do this in canon, no since it's not ooc. now imagine in the action was kissing or saying something romantic. neither of them would do this in canon; so your fic should acknowledge that it's something it an action they do not understand the reason for. you also have to keep this in mind for everyone who isn't sebaciel too if you want the fic to be cohesive.

it's ok to be ooc. sometimes you just wanna write characters the way you like. don't force them into canon if you're writing them how you like; that's just gonna make it awkward. if they're ooc half the time and their canon selves the other half, you're just gonna make the readers confused.

it's also ok to ignore all the advice i just gave you and do whatever you want. nobody should tell you what to write. i'm just giving these tips because i want everyone who wants to write but is scared of being ooc to have somewhere to start.

[salty-dracon]

Stellaron Hunter Sunday thoughts, going on a mission edition:

Kafka's buying a cake to celebrate Sunday's first official IPC bounty. After a terrifying mission where he uses some Path powers on an important group, he's winded, but his new teammates are clapping when he returns to them safe and sound. And it's at that moment that Sunday realizes that there is no going back to his old life.

Imagine a cutscene where the Astral Express is enjoying a banquet with a bunch of guests. One by one all of the other guests start to fall unconscious. As the room falls silent and the lights flicker and hum, the crew hears the even-spaced, metronomic clicking of footsteps... before they spot a familiar Halovian, dressed to the nines in the darkest shade of midnight blue, making his way into the banquet hall.

How do you get away from a man who doesn't even need a weapon to be a major threat? Bring up Robin. Ask him, "What would Robin think?" or "Would Robin want you to do this?" It stuns him the first few times, but it loses its effectiveness quickly as he begins to convince himself (or perhaps Elio has convinced him?) that everything he does is for Robin's happiness and salvation.

Illusion and dreams are extremely versatile powers in the right hands. Consider: illusory doubles of yourself and your enemy, voices and sounds that distract and deflect, or trapping a single person in your own mental world to eliminate them when they're unable to receive help from their friends.

Maybe he needs a weapon for style purposes, like a conductor's baton similar to the one Dominicus/Septimus had. It works well thematically given how both the Harmony and Order are themed around music. Also it would look cool in battle. One flick of the wrist, and everything is under his control, mirroring the very first scene in the prologue where Kafka plays air violin.

Can Sunday be contained in conventional ways? If you lock him in a cell and leave a guard in the room, could he trap them in a waking dream where they think a loved one is in the cell and feel compelled to break them out? How far does this power extend?

How self-assured is Sunday of his power? Does he believe in Elio's script enough to trust in fate that his enemies will fall? Can his captors see it on his face- an unsettling smile that screams "Do whatever you want, try whatever you will- fate is on my side."?

We've had several moments where the Stellaron Hunters manage to protect each other or free each other (SW saves Kafka in the prologue, Blade breaks Kafka free of the Matrix and helps her escape, etc.). Imagine the playful banter Sunday has when he's finally rescued by the Hunters. As serious as he usually is, with a side of appreciation.

I imagine he's still got that space fantasy Catholicism influence in his words and actions. He's quoting proverbs and admonishing sinners while watching buildings blow up, things like that.

Maybe he puts those proverbs away when dealing with the Astral Express who already bested him once, and who are as noble as him. Perhaps he sees them as equals who could potentially best an Aeon, and he's just playing the villain to make sure fate takes the right course.

Sunday, eating dinner in an apartment the group rented on a whim: "Do you mind if I say grace before we eat?" Blade: "I do mind. This is an Aeonless apartment."

[1-800fandomqueen]

And I Will Live Forever

Vladislaus Dragulia x fem!reader

Part One

WC : 16.2K

SW : No usage of "Y/N," physical appearance and details are left completely ambiguous and are up to interpretation. Mentions of violence, canon-typical, this fic follows the chronological events of Van Helsing (2004). Everybody lives AU! because I am first and foremost fruity, and want to slum it with Dracula and his wives.

If there are any more warnings to be added let me know!

Story Notes :

For reader's bride dress, I imagine the "Melora White Maxi Dress And Collar" but with a very light blue gradient.

All sentences in this formatting are flashbacks from part one.

This is a re-post, all of my old accounts were deleted.

‘He was truly my dearest friend, albeit a little strange, I owed everything to him.’

You wait on the steps of the Monastery, seeing the horse approach from across the courtyard, your dearest friend, Gabriel - The Great Van Helsing - was returning from France today. He had been sent on a mission to capture and bring back Dr. Jekyll, alive. But word sent the day before his return showed that he would be returning empty handed. You walk down the stairs to greet him as he slows the horse and dismounts, “Gabriel!” arms tossed around his stiff body squeezing until he moves to return the sentiment. After you deem the hug long enough you let go, quirking an eyebrow at him, a slight frown overtakes your features, “You know how much trouble you’re in right?” You’re immediately met with a sigh and an eyeroll, Gabriel beginning to walk away.

“I don’t understand how you managed to mess this up, the Cardinal is extremely angry.” furiously pacing yourself to keep up with his long strides, the brim of his hat pulled low to hide any sort of expression upon his face. “Van Helsing are you even listening to me? The Cardinal is going to throw a-”

''I don’t give a damn what Jinette thinks, I got the job done didn’t I?” his tone unwavering and final, holding the door to the monastery open for you, following after. You decide not to answer as you walk through the glittering hall, making your way down to the confessional, standing in front of it as he enters. 

You waited outside the door, the conversation between Gabriel and Cardinal Jinette fading in and out with the fluctuation of their volume, the Cardinal remaining the loudest. You hated the way that Jinette spoke to him sometimes, Gabriel never failed to provide results, and had done everything in his power to fulfil every deed given to him by the church.  He was good at what he did, that was undeniable, but he was truly a good man at heart. 

He was the only reason you were allowed to stay within Vatican City, having shown up on the Ministry doorsteps only a few years after he did, you however were significantly younger when you did arrive. You’d been abandoned, living in the streets, when a rowdy group of men chased you all the way to the doors of the church. He had immediately come to your aid and ever since then he had somewhat taken on the role of the older sibling you never had, convincing his superiors to allow you to stay within the ancient building. He always had this air of guilt surrounding him whenever interacting with you, claiming that you reminded him of someone he once knew, but never explaining further than that. 

He taught you how to fight, how to defend yourself if the situation ever arose, he made you carry a small vial of holy water and a collapsible stake on your person at all times, telling you that you never know when you may need it. He was your only companion besides a friar named Carl, who was somewhat closer to your age, a madman when it came to inventing. 

Hearing the scrape of the sconce as the Cardinal opens the secret door, you slide into the booth next to Gabriel right before the metal gate slams into place, quietly taking your spot behind your friend as you begin the descent down into the order. You listen as the Cardinal gives the same spiel about being the last defence against evil, zoning out as you watch the monks move about the place. You snap back into focus at the sound of the projector whirring alive, Jinette giving Gabriel his newest assignment. “We need you to go to the east, to the far side of Romania. An accursed land, terrorised by all sorts of nightmarish creatures.” You watch Van Helsing's face go slightly pale as the image changes, an even more grim look taking over the one that usually resides upon his features, “Lorded over by a certain Count Dracula.” 

You slightly zone out once more as you study the painting, you can hear Gabriel speaking but are unaware of what it is he’s saying. You can’t help but feel a strange mixture of happiness and sadness take over your body as you look upon the man - The Count - in the image, you could swear to all that was holy that he looked familiar. Like you’d met him before. 

You’ve decided by what little of him you could see, that he was still undoubtedly handsome. Slightly taller than you, possibly 6-foot, dark hair, and shockingly blue eyes. 

You don’t notice the looks Gabriel throws your way, the realisation hitting him that you're lost at the sight of the photo. 

When the Cardinal changes the image projected, you rejoin the conversation, looking up to lock eyes with your friend, giving him a wary smile as you fight off the sudden emotional pit forming in your stomach. Listening as Jinette lists off members of this royal family, watching as Gabriel becomes starstruck at the sight of Princess Anna, giving him a smirk and a hard elbow to the ribs, him responding with a slight stomp onto your foot. 

You stop listening again when the insignia of his ring is mentioned, the pit returning to your stomach as you walk away to find Carl. You find the aforementioned man yelling at someone in a pedalling machine, gasping slightly as the person on said machine is electrocuted. “Carl what are you doing?” you’re met with a few mumbles of “Almost had it,” and “Maybe next time,” as Carl shuffles towards you, giving you a small pat on the arm and a crooked smile. He turns his attention to Gabriel as he approaches, automatically beginning his line of chastising and questioning. You follow as Carl begins putting things into a bag for him, Garlic, Holy Water, amongst some weapons. After he causes a viscous fluid to erupt into sparks upon the ground, you giggle as he turns with his inventors' goggles down, magnifying his eyes to a ridiculous level. He gives you a sour look, “the air is thick with envy” he says, rolling his eyes and walking away as you continue to giggle. 

He shuffles around to grab more weapons, going on about some substances that can emit light equivalent to the sun, telling Gabriel to use his imagination with it. “No Carl, I’m gonna use yours that’s why you’re coming with me.” “Oh hell be damned I am!” letting out a dramatic gasp as you clutch your chest, “Carl! You Cursed! Monks aren’t supposed to curse.” You watch as a smug grin takes over his face, leaning in close to you as if to tell a secret, “Well actually I’m still a friar, I can curse all I want. Damn it!” giving you a wink as he shuffles back to his original spot. 

“The Cardinal has ordered you to keep me alive as long as possible.” he continues, about to walk away before you grab his sleeve, “Wait, what about me? I want to come along as well.” You’re met with a stern look, the both of you completely ignoring Carl's mumbles about not being a field man as you follow Gabriel out of the Laboratory, “No, that’s entirely out of the question.” “Why not? I want to come to Transylvania, I’m always left behind when you go on missions. You know I get bored easily!” “You’re always left behind because you don’t have the training to go on missions, it’s highly dangerous-” You stop him once more, “You trained me Gabriel, remember?” cutting him off as he goes to respond, “You’d rather let a friar, who has no fighting experience what-so-ever join you versus someone who can actually hold their own?” Giving him the best pout you can, “Please Van Helsing, let me come with you.” applying a slight shake to the arm still in your grip. 

He doesn’t know what comes over him, whether it be the determined look in your eye or the idea that maybe he could use you as help if all went south, but with a strong reluctance coating his words, he agrees to let you come along. 

‘It was the longest trip of my life, a battle through storms and cold only to be put right in the face of death.’ 

You were tired, aching, surrounded by an angry mob when the first one swooped in from the sky. 

The woman, Princess Anna, yelled for everyone to run inside, to find shelter, as Van Helsing shot at the circling Vampires, while Carl was leaning against the wells’ edge, whimpering. You follow the woman as she takes off running - right after landing rather promiscuously on top of Gabriel - eventually shoving her down a cart as two out of the three vampires reach for you. 

You pant for breath as the sun comes out, everyone in the town coming out with it. You walk towards your friends, reaching for the stake sheathed at your side as a noise emits from the well. You scream as the sun goes back behind the clouds and the orange haired vampire bursts up, grabbing Anna by the shoulders. The black haired one not far behind her, not even looking at you as she grabs you and tosses you through the roof of one of the houses. 

You lay there for a moment, paralysed with pain and fear that overtakes your whole body. You snap to attention as the door in front of you bolts shut, muscle memory leads your hand down to your stake sheath, only to find your weapon missing, cursing as you realise you must have dropped it somewhere along being thrown into a building. You let out a sigh of relief when you see Anna, the woman dropping to your side to check on you. You’re about to let her know you’re okay when all of a sudden the orange-haired vampire lowers herself from the rafters of the house. 

You point up weakly, eyes going wide and letting out a yelp as Anna immediately stands and turns to come face to face with her. “Hello Anna” she hisses out, completely dropping and transforming into her regular facade. You do have to admit, she is rather pretty. “Nice to see you too Aleera,” words doused with Venom. You make a move to help her, but when a sharp pain shoots throughout your whole body as you lean forward, you have no choice but to flop back down to the ground. “Did I do something to you in a past life?” Anna backs up slowly, the Vampire, Aleera, following her every move. “Don’t play coy with me, princess,” somehow teleporting to be in front of Anna, “I know what lurks in your lusting heart.” “I hope you have a heart Aleera, because someday I’m going to drive a stake through it.” You watch with bated breath as Aleera literally smacks Anna out of the window, then turns to gaze down upon you. 

She tilts her head at you, studying for a moment. A look that almost resembles recognition passes her features before she dives out the window after Anna. “Fuck.” you murmur, beginning to wiggle your limbs as you try to fight off the searing pain travelling through your body. When you’re able to move once more, you make your way out of the house, down the stairs and through the door, like a perfectly sane person, grabbing a large shard of glass from outside, watching as Anna bursts into another home. 

You weakly run, limping every step, attempting to follow her in case she needed what little assistance you could provide in your current state. Bursting into the house to see the two Vampires over her, mouths gaping open, fangs sharp and extended, their faces taking on slightly demonic forms. You watch as they suddenly scream, twisting and writhing as they turn back into their winged counterparts, flying out of the house.

You offer her a hand, no words passed between the two of you, only pained smiles and grateful expressions, lifting her up as the adrenaline leaves your body, limping out into the street with her. Walking towards the church where your friends sit on its steps, you pass by Gabriels’ hat, turning and grabbing it for him, gently brushing some of the dirt and snow off of it. Bringing it to him and sitting down, you’re met with concerning remarks from both him and Carl, hell, you’d be concerned too if you also saw your friend be thrown into a roof from 40 feet in the air, but you were just too tired to form any words. Letting your head thump back against one of the top steps as an angry crowd of Translyvanians forms around you. 

You’re thankful when Anna jumps to your defence, the revealing of Van Helsings’ identity forces the crowd to back off. You raise your head at the mention of a drink and somewhere to stay, muttering a ‘yes please’ before you slump back against the stairs. Feeling arms come around both your sides, both Carl and Gabriel help hoist you up, supporting your weight as you begin your trek to where Anna was staying, at the old Governors’ house. 

You can’t help the strange sense that washes over you at the sight of the building. 

“But soon, the final battle will begin, I must go and find out who our new visitor is.”

‘It was a restless night, full of aches. Visions of you and a man dancing through your head, along with visions of great pain and sorrow.’

‘Don’t do this Gabriel… Please let go of my wife.’

You could hear screaming, a woman falling through a window. Great agonising pain filling your senses ; grief, sadness, anger, all equally coursing through your veins. 

‘I’m sorry… But you broke the oath.’

Flashes of a happy couple pass through your mind, ending as you turn to be stabbed through the heart by Gabriel-

Shooting up with a gasp, feeling every bone in your body protest at such movement. You take heaving, gulping breaths, the fear seizing your muscles making it hard to intake oxygen. You can feel sweat running off you in rivulets as you try to equal out your heartbeat. What did you just see? This hadn’t been the first dream you’d had of this scenario, with Gabriel killing you, you’d had a dream eerily similar to this one when you first met him all those years ago, except in that one you were the woman falling through the window. 

Bringing up a hand to wipe absentmindedly at your forehead, trying to cease what you assume is a river of sweat. It’s only when your hand comes back covered in a fluid that’s smelling and stringing to your skin, it’s within that moment when you’re able to register the low growling do you look up, and come eye to eye with a werewolf. 

It pounces the second you look at it, giving you only a moment to roll out of the bed and scream as loud as you can. Dodging as best you can as the creature lays havoc to the room you’re in, ducking for cover as leaps for you, watching it crash through the window. You turn as your room door is opened, Gabriel looking in with features clouded by fear. He calls your name, coming around to rest his hands upon your shoulders, “What happened?” “Werewolf,” a shaky hand coming to point towards the shattered window, “Went that way.” Grabbing you by the shoulders he directs you to a ripped up armchair sitting in the corner of the room, sitting you down and handing you your stake, huh, where did he find that? “Stay here, I’ll be back soon.” 

You don’t stay, waiting a few moments after he’s left to get up. It’s only when yelling and crashing resonates from downstairs do you hurry your pace. You arrive at the sight of Gabriel running out of the estate and Anna standing in a catatonic state, staring off in his direction. Disregarding the broken window, you already have a feeling of what broke it to begin with, you turn to Anna, gently grasping her elbows and directing her attention to you. 

“Anna? What happened?” lifting one hand up to her neck, gently tilting her head from side to side, looking for any signs of pain or damage. “Are you alright? Did it hurt you?” That seems to do the trick as her glossy eyes fill with more tears, finally spilling over as she looks at you, “My brother. It’s my brother.” You say nothing, cooing slightly as her tears fall faster, pulling her into a hug. “He’s going to kill him.” Words murmured into your shoulder. “Who’s going to kill who, Anna?” “Van Helsings’ going to try and kill my brother.'' And with those words she takes off out the door. 

You grab a pile of fabric off the back of a nearby chair, knowing that the cold would be too severe for what Anna, and yourself, were currently wearing. You saddle up the horse you came into town on, going off in the direction of several sets of footprints. When you approach where Anna and Van Helsing stand in the graveyard you catch the remnants of what was undoubtedly a heated conversation. “He has taken everything from me. Leaving me alone in this world.”  You quietly dismount, grabbing the blanket you brought and throwing part of it over Annas’ shoulders, slightly startling her with your sudden presence. You say nothing as you resume your previous embrace with her, watching as Anna all but crumbles into the affection. 

“To have the memories of those you have loved and lost is perhaps harder than to have no memories at all.” his words spoken with a guilty glance towards you, an unexplainable rage filling you at the idea of whatever he could possibly be implying. “Alright, we’ll look for your brother.”

“It was obvious that Van Helsing was wary of this man, but when he turned to me I felt no fear. He looked at me in what could only be sheer reverence, and I felt my mind settle.’

The Castle was looming, with electricity zapping to and fro from the top tower. Hanging behind as to give Anna and Gabriel some time to talk. If the fate of Anna's family wasn’t at stake you would take the time to poke at his lovesick behaviour, but until everything was over you held your remarks at bay. 

Entering the dusty manor, pushing cobwebs out of your way, the three of you make your way into a room filled to the brim with sacks hanging from the ceiling, reminding you of very slimy chrysalides. “Have you ever seen these things before?” you aim your question towards either of your company. “No. What do you think they are?” Both of you turn to Gabriel, “Offspring.” “What?” spoken at the same time. “A man with three gorgeous women for 400 years-” “Yes, vampires are the walking dead, it only makes sense their children are born dead.”

Pushing your way through to reveal a grand hall filled with even more of the pods, electricity crackling down the hall and into the room you are in. Watching as the pods begin to pulse and wiggle. “Van Helsing don’t-” exclaiming in exaggerated disgust as he sticks his hand into the sack, throwing the slime substance out of his way. 

“So this is what you get when Vampires mate-” not given the time to finish his sentence as it comes to life, both you and Anna screaming out in disgust. Another blast of electricity barrels through the room, bringing with it a shiver up your spin and the jolt of a static shock. The three of you run as they begin to drop from the ceiling, faintly aware of voices coming from somewhere above you.

Despite Annas’ pleas, you watch as Gabriel exits out of your covered spot, entering the desolate hall once again to begin shooting at the vampiric offspring still flying around the room. He looks up somewhere in the room, a slightly smug look upon his face, “Now that I have your attention.” A giant winged creature falls from the sky and begins to pursue your friend. The gust of air it brings knocks over decorations, items falling all around you. You don’t even register Anna rushing up the stairs behind you, nor the beam and chandelier falling after her, blocking anyone from following. You do, however, register the doors at the end of the hall slamming closed, locking you in here with Van Helsing and the creature. 

Crouching down next to some crates, watching as the creature swoops down, turning into a man. Turning into the Count from the Cardinals’ slideshow. “I can tell the character of a man by the sound of his heartbeat.” A deep accented voice lilting, “Usually when I approach,” clapping his hands together in a slightly off-rhythm staccato, “I can almost dance to the beat. Strange that yours is so steady.”  Hands ending their sporadic clap as he continues to walk forward, all noise ceasing except for crackling of electricity.

When Gabriel drops down and stabs the man you can’t help the sadness that fills you. A strange sense taking over you, making you want to walk over and kill your best friend where he stands. “Requistat in pace” words uttered with an arrogance. You stand up, beginning to make your way towards them, “Hello Gabriel,” freezing in your steps. Did he know this man?

“Is this your silver stake?” pulling it out of his chest and tossing it over his shoulder. “How long has it been, 3- 400 years? You don’t remember, do you?” “What exactly is it I should be remembering?” The two of them begin to slowly circle around one another, “You are the Great Van Helsing! Trained by monks and mullahs from Tibet to Istanbul, protected by Rome herself! But like me, hunted by all others.” 

“The Knights of the Holy Order know all about you, It’s no surprise you would know about me.” “Yes but it’s much more than this” the man laughs as he takes a step towards Van Helsing, the two coming full circle. “We have such history, You and I, Gabriel. Have you ever wondered why you have such horrible nightmares, horrific scenes of ancient battles past. Horrific scenes of betrayal? Would you like for me to refresh your memory a little, a few details from your sordid past?” You shuffle slightly, the heel of your boot scraping across a loose tile in the floor, drawing the attention of both Gabriel and the Count. 

He gazes in disbelief. Freezing for a few moments before taking delicate, hesitant, steps towards you. You knew that you should probably flee, run for cover or to your friend, but instead you stayed put, Standing your ground as he approached you. He walks until the two of you almost stand toe-to-toe. An ungloved hand reaches out towards you and you can’t help the flinch that runs through your body, heart rate picking up in fear. He looks pained at your cower, hand still moving to brush lightly against your jaw, freezing cold fingers solidify his true nature to you.

 “Do not fear me.” 

‘I hope you’ve learned by now that I mean you no harm.’

Words spoken in such a hushed whisper that only you could hear with your proximity. And for some strange reason, you find yourself calming at his words, the fear leaving your still shellshocked system, heart rate slowing. You pay no attention to your friend who’s currently sneaking up behind the man, completely enraptured by the Count. 

He mutters something that you can't quite catch, his hand beginning to drift down your neck, brushing against the necklace round your neck. He picks up the chain and lets it run through his fingers, getting steadily closer to the ring that resides on the end of it. A small silver wedding band that never seemed to tarnish rested along the chain, you had no idea where you had gotten it, it had been in your possession for what seemed forever. It was obviously valuable and you could never seem to part with it, in fear of it one day sliding off your finger during your work you ran it onto a bare chain, deciding to wear it as a necklace. 

Before he can reach the ring at the end of the chain the sound of something clicking into place takes the attention of both of you, him whipping around to grab the silver crucifix Gabriel thrusts into his face, screaming in pain as he makes contact with the holy item. Jumping away as the crucifix bursts into flames within his hand, beginning to melt. He tosses the remains of it away, regaining his composure at a lightning rate. 

“Perhaps that is a conversation for another time.” He takes a few steps back, walking a few feet past you. “Allow me to reintroduce myself, I am Count Vladislaus Dragulia. Born 1422, Murdered 1462.” 

‘Vlad’ rings through your head, the memory of glass shattering and screaming echoing through your mind. You don’t realise that the screaming has become real, Van Helsing grabs your hand and pulls you away with him, still in a dissociative state you don’t realise what’s happened until you both make your escape through a dumbwaiter. 

The two of you make your way to the roof, running into a frantic Anna. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” Words rushed to you and her, Gabriel grabbing one arm each and launching off a line, extending all the way over the rushing river below, to the nearby mountain. The three of you speed off, almost making it halfway across before the line suddenly shakes. The werewolf from the house, Anna’s brother, suddenly hitches a ride on the back, sliding a bit before one of its claws slices the line in half, taking you and the half closest to the Castle, down.

You can’t help the deja vu that washes over you as you fall, the freezing cold river below you. The sound of Van Helsing and Anna screaming for you is drowned out by your own. 

You can faintly see the outline of someone looking over the edge of the castle railing, a yell of ‘no’ reaching your ears. The person disappears from the edge, only for a winged beast to take their place and jump from the roof. ‘It’s the Count’ you realise somewhere in your mind, closing your eyes in what could only be described as… relief? Even though your heart was beating out of your chest, deep down you knew you’d be alright. The wind is bitterly cold, nipping at your back, whistling in your ears. 

Until suddenly it’s not. 

Your body smacks into the water, cold overtaking all your senses as your body freezes. You can faintly feel yourself moving, arms weakly flailing to break the surface of the water to no avail. The current of the roaring river continuously pulls you under, giving you no chance to save yourself.

Right before you pass out from either shock or adrenaline you’re faintly aware of being pulled from the water and into the air. You’re held against something much larger than you are. One minute you’re plummeting, falling down and then sinking to your untimely demise and then the next you’re going up, soaring through the air. 

And with that, you pass out. 

~~~

You drift in and out of consciousness. You can remember being placed in front of a hearth, someone’s lap laid under your head, rough fingers running through your hair. Then three sets of hands and whispering voices, belonging to whom you believe were women, placing and pulling different layers of clothes upon you. You heard conversations about a creature and tracking it down, followed by being picked up by something much larger than you, a hood being pulled over your head, and the flap of great wings. 

When you fully wake, it’s to the feeling of flying. Slowly blinking your eyes you try to adjust to the darkness. You realise you’re being carried by a large creature. Pointed ears, flat-bridged nose, and a maw that contained razor sharp teeth. Its wingspan had to spread to at least 15 feet or greater, and had to be at least 12 feet tall. And you realise that it oddly resembles a bat. 

You hadn’t realised it was looking at you. Too busy in your observative reverie to notice the slitted dark grey eyes that had snapped your way. The large bat lets out a strange rumble when you make eye contact with it, beginning its descent. You’re laid down on what you assume is grass, watching as the creature soars back into the sky, transforming midair. That’s when you remember the last few hours of your life; officially meeting The Count, and all the strange emotions that came with the introduction, all of the rage, anguish, and nostalgia. And the fact that he had saved you, throwing himself off the top of the castle to rescue you from the river. 

He drops back down to the ground with a certain grace and elegance to his actions, slightly bowing with a hand outstretched for theatrics. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was doing it to lighten the air, immediately throwing you a smile and small chuckle as he does it. You can’t help the smile that overtakes your face as well, accepting the hand he offers you, pulling you off the ground. Finally taking in your surroundings, you realise you’re standing in front of a semi-dilapidated building. It looks to be a small fortress of sorts, surrounded by mountains on either side, along with the faint sound of a rushing river a great distance below you. 

“Where are we?” words muttered, turning to gaze at him. 

“Poenari.” 

‘He can lie and claim to be a hollow man all he wants. But when I finally realised who he was and what he meant to me, I could see the pure emotion overtake his face, and for once I swore I could hear a heartbeat that wasn’t my own.’

The two of you walked silently through the building. 

The dank remnants of the castle smelled foul; stagnant. The place reeked of death and sorrow, everything was covered in thick layers of dust. The Count walked quietly behind you, offering no explanation as to why you were here. Walking aimlessly through the corridors, footsteps echoing all around as you turn a corner, a loud gasp ripping its way out of the back of your throat. 

The hallway leading to a set of winding stairs was the embodiment of death. Dried blood and half decomposed skeletons line the path,  the stale smell of decomposition lingering in the air. You hadn’t realised you’d stopped until a hand placed itself upon the small of your back, gently pushing you forward. You observe the destruction around you, noticing baskets of mouldy, moth-eaten linens, and cleaning supplies next to some of the skeletons. “Servants.” rings out Dracula’s voice behind you, his hand still upon your back. Coming towards the end of the hall, right before the stairwell, you notice a bare spot. There was dried blood in an outline that shows it obviously pooled from someone’s body, but there was a lack of a skeleton, or any sign that one had been there, at least. “What happened to that one?” pointing down at the spot on the floor. “Agnes was buried.” is all he offers. 

You kept Agnes with you, after all she’d been one of your closest confidants since your mother had died.

He nudges you up the stairs, guiding you through the dark. At the very top of the stairs was a thick wooden door in the middle of a small hallway. At the end of a hallway was a painting. Unlike everything else in this place the painting was spotless. It looked brand new, not a speck of dust on it, like it had been visited often. 

That’s not what captured your attention though. What captured it was that the painting was a portrait of a man and woman. Happy, smiling, loving,

And they looked just like the two of you. 

You step forward, shoes lining up in the dust-free imprint of feet much larger than yours; a well-worn spot. Reaching a hand out, fingers gliding across the woman in the painting, your other hand coming up to brush against your own features. Same hair colour, texture, same eyes, same birthmarks and scars. Her hands crossed gently across her lap, upon her ring finger lay the ring you wear around your neck. 

Gasping, taking a stumbling step back, you whip around to face him. You can feel your heartbeat pick up, confusion and fear starting to take over. “Why-” breath uneven, “Why did you bring me here? What is this place?”

He brings a hand up to the door, pushing it open and stepping back, a slight sweeping gesture to show you go in first. 

“Our home.”

Entering the room, you’re met with what you assume was once a very luxurious room. A dilapidated four-poster bed sits in the middle of the wall that the door is on. The room is stagnant like the rest of the place, but like the painting, free of dust. There’s a dresser, a writing desk, and a gap, from floor to ceiling, jagged shards of glass still remaining around the frame of what was once a window. Torn, mouldy, moth-ridden curtains billow in the light breeze, the stone floor is covered in moss and mould, years of rain pouring in through the opening had made it so. 

In the middle of the room is a dark stain on the floor, a trail trickling from the window to it. You don’t want to believe it’s blood, the colour of it is black, too dark to resemble that which was under the skeletons in the hall, but you know. You know that it’s blood and whatever left the puddle wasn’t human. At the thought you cast a glance over your shoulder to the man who brought you here to begin with, he stands in the doorway, and goes no further than that. You take a step towards the gaping hole in the wall, mindful of any shards of glass on the floor.

You can hear the churning of fast moving water, you can hear the wind whipping in the wind, and as you bend slightly to look out, you can hear screaming. 

“Who are you?” 

“Who I am is of no importance at the moment,” 

“Well everything was lined up perfectly, but now, the Voivode has added a new term to the treaty. Your hand in marriage.” 

“I hope you’ve learned by now that I mean you no harm.” 

‘He always treated you with a gentle hand, was never harsh, never cruel, and he never-ever raised his voice. You were his wife, and you should never need to fear him’

You failed to notice the dark figure in the corner of your room.

 “Don’t do this Gabriel,” “Please let go of my wife.” 

And with that, he pushes you out the window.  

And then everything went dark. 

You stumble violently away from the window, knees collapsing under your own weight. A firm presence makes itself known behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist, holding you up. Your vision is spotty, head pounding with this newfound knowledge of a past life and your eyes well with tears. You tilt your head up, making immediate eye contact with the man holding you. Your voice comes out scratchy and choked, “Vlad?” as the tears begin to spill out of your eyes. Vlad gives a pained smile as he turns you around and pulls your body towards his. 

The embrace is emotional as you reduce down to nothing but shaky limbs and heart-wrenching sobs. He holds you strongly, there’s not an inch of his body that doesn’t touch yours, and you could swear that in that moment, you could feel another heartbeat alongside yours. 

The sound of sizzling breaks you away from the hug, looking up in time to see a singular tear make its trek down his cheek, burning the skin it slides down. You quickly bring up your hand, sleeve pulled around your fist to dry it before it causes anymore damage. As you make a move to bring your hand back down he moves quick as lightning to hold it to his face, head tilting to place a delicate kiss upon the skin of your palm. “I missed you,” the words are soft, your throat still scratchy. “Not as much as I missed you, my darling” and with that, he kisses you. 

The kiss is soft, yet powerful. With the force of almost 200 years worth of lost time fueling it. Vlad pulls you even closer, if it were possible. You can still hear the light sizzling where tears are undoubtedly still falling from his eyes. His lips are as soft as you remember, his movements still the same as well. The only difference was his temperature, a constant reminder that you were no longer the same. 

A reminder of the reason you were in Transylvania to begin with. 

Before you can say anything, Vlad pulls away from you. His left hand continues to hold you firm at the waist while his right moves from your cheek to smooth over the top of your hair, coming to a stop at the nape of your neck, cradling your head. There’s a furrow in his brows as his eyes flit across your face, “What is wrong my darling? Why does your heart panic so?” you close your eyes and gently shake your head.

“What about Gabriel, Vlad?” 

“What about him?”

“The only reason we’ve come to Transylvania is so he can kill you, Vlad. He’s vindictive and will not stop until he sees you turn to ash before his feet. Oh this is all my fault,-” 

“Do not say these things.” His right hand tilting your head to look at him, “How is any of it your fault, my darling? Fate is not your fault. You were meant to come back to me one day, and now you have.” A delicate kiss placed upon your forehead, “And as for Gabriel. I will handle him myself. Now come, we have somewhere to be.” Taking your hand and gently pulling you back the way you came. 

When you make it outside, there's three women dressed in lavish silks, gossamer, and fine jewellery. You find yourself subconsciously clutching his hand harder when the three women outstretch their arms and move towards you. There’s almost an ethereal echoing coming from somewhere as the women surround you, cooing their praises. Delicate hands with thin, claw-like fingers move across you. One hand pats your hair, another down your arm, with a ghosting touch on your back. The women skit around, their movements are graceful, like a dance of sorts, and you find yourself in a trance like state. 

“Oh Master,” says the red-headed one, who you recognize as the one Anna called Aleera, “She’s just as perfect as you said.” You find yourself blushing at the statement and the attention that’s being showered upon you. Two cold hands scoop up your face to bring you directly in front of the long black haired one, “You are absolutely stunning, my dear.” “Thank you” whispered quietly, your face practically engulfed in flames. 

Casting a glance towards Vlad only to find he’s already looking at you, a gentle smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. The women stop their parade of affection with a singular lift of Vlad’s hand. “Have you taken care of what you needed to?” His voice echoing out with a seriousness to it as he reaches his hand out towards you. “They tricked us with the carriages, master, and escaped with the monster.” You can see the second that the anger forms in his eyes so you pull yourself away from the women to walk towards him, taking his hand and rubbing your thumb upon the back of his knuckles in hopes to sooth him. Your efforts work as he tilts to look down at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“No matter. Van Helsing is heading straight for Budapest anyways. Aleera I want you to go and follow them, Verona you go with her.” and with a gesture of his hand the two turn into their other forms and fly off into the night, leaving just Vlad, yourself, and the black-haired woman. “Marishka, take my darling and get her ready for tomorrow evening.” You hear a quiet ‘yes master’ as Vlad places a small kiss in the middle of your forehead, before releasing you to a now winged Marishka. “Don’t worry my darling, Marishka is a gentle flyer.” And with that you’re lifted into the air. 

~~~

You’re at a glorious castle in Budapest, a summer home, you remember Verona briefly telling you when her and Aleera finally catch back up. She works quietly and carefully to do your hair while you sit in front of the vanity, slightly nerved by the fact that you wouldn’t even be able to tell she was there if it wasn’t for her brushing and pinning your hair, the lack of a reflection startling. She makes small and polite conversation with you, including an apology for throwing you earlier in the town, as she admitted to not looking to see whom she had grabbed before she picked you up. 

“We are truly very excited to have you within our presence, for many years we have all heard stories of you, the heartbreak Dracula felt at the loss of you and your child never truly went away, no matter how we tried to quell it.” Her accented voice lulls quietly through the dim candle-lit room, and you're briefly hit with a burst of guilt and sadness at the idea of them trying to do everything they could to make Vlad feel better, only for him to rebuff their attempts. You can’t help but offer her an apology.

 “What for, my dear? You are here now and that’s all that matters, everything is as it should be.” and with that she finishes your hair, which has been gently pinned to your head, curls looking defined. Before you could say anything else she walks away as the two other brides enter the room. Aleera is the first to reach you, lithe fingers gliding down both sides of your neck as her cold hands come to lay delicately upon your shoulders. “You look magnificent,” words cooed to you, “truly stunning.” Finishes off Marishka, taking a seat next to you on the bench as she leans forward to reach for the jewellery. 

You hear the shuffling of feet, what you assume to be Verona returning from wherever she had gone. When Marishka is finished clipping in earrings for you, you turn your head to find Verona holding a light blue dress in a style much like that of her and the others dresses. It’s complete with gossamer sleeving that opens up around your wrist and trails all the way down to the floor, a form-fitting partially transparent torso and a loose skirt made of a layered sheer chiffon material. “And now for the final touch.”

~~~

You look and feel like a true goddess as the girls lead you down a hall, you’re conscientiously aware of the ethereal echoing that has returned as they giggle while taking you down to the ballroom. The music grows louder and louder as you approach a large set of double doors, half of a masquerade mask is quickly slipped onto your face as the doors are open and you’re thrust into the room. 

There’s hundreds of people in the room, ranging of all ages as you spot children up in the rafters. There’s people dancing, people performing on silks and with fire, and so many other things that it makes it hard to take in the grandeur of the room all at once. You’re aware of how you must look to all the others, jaw dropped and head constantly turning to take in your surroundings. When you turn your head to look back in front of you, you’re met with the sight of Vlad. He’s in his usual clothing, just with a gold cloak tied around his neck, a mask the same chromatic colour to match, with his hand outstretched towards you. 

You wordlessly take his hand and allow him to pull you closer, his hands gently begin roaming, one hand quickly lifting the mask to take in your features before dropping it back down to rest on your face. “You look absolutely stunning, my darling.” A cold kiss pressed upon your lips, “May I have the privilege of dancing with you?” Eyes boring into your own, he quirks up the corner of his lips into an ever arrogant smirk. “Why yes you may.” Words whispered towards him quietly, acutely aware of all the eyes that are upon the two of you. 

Vlad takes your hand and leads you to the spot directly in front of the platform in which a veiled woman stands upon. The rest of the guests clap as whatever piece of music is being played comes to an end, partners taking their places on the dancefloor. You quickly grab Vlad’s arm as a sudden realisation hits you, “Wait, Vlad, I can’t dance.” eyes wide with fear at the notion of making yourself look like a fool in front of all these refined people. He turns to you with a somewhat reassuring smile on his face, “Don’t worry my darling, you’ve danced this dance many times before. You know what to do.” A look of sheer disbelief covers your features, you open your mouth to throw a sly retort back to him but are promptly cut off as the woman on the stage begins a beautiful aria. He lifts your hand up delicately before softly spinning you outwards. All of a sudden you throw your arm out in a slow and graceful manner, the steps of the dance flooding back into your mind. When you spin back towards him there’s a certain look of, I told you so, overtaking his face, as he grabs your waist and pulls you towards him firmly.

He takes off his mask, then your own, before placing a kiss upon your lips. “I told you that you knew it.” as you both fall back into step with the others, “Of course,” smiling at him softly, “How could I ever forget the steps to the music of our first dance as husband and wife?” A puzzled look quickly takes place upon your face, “Is that the same singer?” question asked as you look back and forth between the veiled woman and Vlad. “You’ll find that many of the faces in this room, once unmasked, will appear very familiar to you.” He spins you until your back is to his front, subconsciously tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck for Vlad to place a cold kiss directly over your pulse point. 

The tempo of the music picks up and you, on instinct, fall into a faster spin with Vlad. He dips you in front of a mirror, eyes snapping over to look at your reflection, the way it appears that you’re floating, Vlad nowhere to be found, none of the other guests can be seen either. You come to the sudden realisation that you’re a mere mortal in a room with hundreds of vampires, your mind begins slipping, remembering the fact that you’ve been choosing to ignore to instead relish in your past; Vlad is dead.

An undead creature who never grows old, who feeds on other humans, you realise how temporary your situation with him is in comparison to the rest of his life. This one minute moment in a sea of others that are sure to come, and all of a sudden, your life pales in comparison. You can feel your stomach turning with the sudden acknowledgement, a wave of nausea hitting you. As if he can sense where your thoughts are going he quickly scoops you back up, continuing the dance. “It’s alright my darling,” the hand upon your back quickly sweeping up and down in a soothing gesture. “There’s no need to fear, nothing is going to happen to you, everything is going to be alright.” He stares into your eyes, his own translating the sincerity of his words. 

You feel yourself relax with the reassurance, head coming to rest just under his own, your eyes closing as you gently press your face into his chest. “What’s going to happen to me?” you don’t feel the need to elaborate, as you’re sure Vlad already knows what you’re asking. “Nothing that you don’t want. If you choose, it will be one brief moment of pain, and we can be together forever.” You pull your head away from him, your eyes still closed as he dips you once more, his hand skating up the front of your dress to rest upon your neck. “What if I choose yes?” “Then it would be my honour, my love.” A deep breath taken in, then he screams, dropping you in a blaze of fire as the cape he’s wearing begins to burn. 

You stand up quickly, worriedly making your way towards him before you’re swept off the ground. All the air is knocked out of your lungs as you tumble onto a balcony, slamming straight into a door. Disoriented, you can make out someone saying your name and shaking your shoulders. “Wake up!” You gaze confused into the eyes of Gabriel, as you hear a voice from down below. 

“Gabriel…” his voice is even, words spoken slowly. “Oh Gabriel…” you stagger towards the bannister in time to see Vlad step into the middle of the room, the cloak that he was previously wearing off to the side in a smouldering pile. All the guests have cleared a wide berth for Vlad as he stops and gazes upwards, a certain fear emanating from them. “Oh Gabriel, welcome to my summer palace.” A smirk thrown up towards him before he turns his eyes towards you, giving you a subtle nod as Igor bursts into the room with the Frankenstein monster in tow, screaming his revenge. 

“Now that everything… is as it should be… Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you; Van Helsing!” The hundreds of vampires in the room unmask themselves, faces morphing into their sinister counterparts. The sound of screaming and screeching fills the room as you cover your ears, eyes cinching shut. Gabriel takes this as his moment to wrap an arm around you, pulling you away. You protest, squirming in an attempt to get out of his grip, which only causes him to hold you tighter and lift you off your feet. 

He burst through the door that you ran into, where you’re met with Anna right next to the door and Carl at the end of the hall next to a stained glass window. Passing Anna she grabs your arm, beginning to pick up speed with Van Helsing, causing you to squirm more, “Gabriel put me down!” But the protests fall on deaf ears. He strides with purpose towards Carl, a walk turning into a run. “O-Oh where are we going?” Carl stutters, dropping a device onto the floor, “Out the window!” and before either you nor Carl can protest, you shatter the probably thousand year old stained glass as you jump through. 

As you drop towards yet another river, a light equivalent to the sun fills up the entire palace, shattering all the other windows. The only thing you can think to do as you hurl through the air is to scream for Vlad, worried that he was caught in the blast of light, and then you once more drop into water. 

As you resurface you can hear the echoing of screams in the aether, your head continuously goes up and down as you struggle to get your bearings and to reorient yourself. Once you come up for good you take gasping breaths. Gabriel floats next to you, panting for breath with a certain ecstatic look upon his face, “Carl, you're a genius!” “Yes, a genius with access to unstable chemicals.” 

You watch as a boat with Igor, the Frankenstein Monster, and a few other strange looking creatures depart from the port, Van Helsing furiously swimming towards him, Carl and Anna following after. But you remain still. You can’t help but allow yourself to be consumed by the water for a moment, dropping back beneath the rippling current. The water is cold, all consuming, sending a shiver down your spine. You open your eyes, gazing up to see the moonlight cutting through the water and shining down to where you float. You watch the bones and remains of the vampires sink down to the bottom of the moat, the realisation that Vlad or any of the brides could be amongst them fill you with such an overpowering sense of loss. You clench your eyes shut and with the last little bits of breath in your lungs you scream. The air bubbles out of your mouth, floating upwards, you follow them, still screaming when you break the surface. 

The scream gains the attention of Gabriel, Anna, and Carl, who now hold onto a portcullis that had come down from the castle. Your voice gives out, eyes going blurry with tears, choked sobs making their way past your lips. You hear Anna call your name in a worried tone, beginning to make her way over to you. “Stay away,” voice so quiet that no one should have heard it, but Gabriel gives a sharp “Why?” You lift your head up to look at him, trying to blink the rain and tears out of your eyes. You’re about to say something but you see the half-circular red mark that had welted and scabbed over peeking out of his partially unbuttoned shirt. You’d recognize that mark anywhere. Years of pouring over all the books on the supernatural that you could find in the Abbey, hearing stories from Carl about the creation of monsters. 

Van Helsing had been bitten by a werewolf. 

Sensing your gaze upon the mark he places his hand over it. You continue to stare at him, not saying a word as Anna reaches you to place a comforting hand upon your shoulder. You hear her quietly ask what's wrong, turning to look at her, you see an abundance of understanding and hesitancy in her eyes. Could she know? Know that you felt your allegiances slipping to the other side? It was certain that Van Helsing knew, given by the anger in his eyes. 

You open your mouth to say something when the echoing sound of laughter comes through the air. You’d recognize that laugh anywhere. Three light shadows move through the sky, followed by one large dark shadow. You gasp as all 4 come swooping down towards the water, edges of wings slicing across the surface sending sprays arcing into the air. You watch as Carl and Van Helsing duck, Anna following their actions as well, her hand that was still on your arm tries to pull you down with her but before she can Vlad follows behind his brides, swooping down towards the water and plucking you from the surface. 

He makes a sharp turn upwards almost grazing the portcullis before flying higher and higher into the sky. He then straightens back out as you hang below him, Vlad holding onto you under your armpits as Aleera slows down to allow him to pass her before she places herself directly in front of you. You turn your head to look at her, noticing the ball of dark fabric within her arms. Watching as she unfurls it to reveal a cloak, placing the hood on top of your head before fastening it in place just below your collarbones. When it’s on you she gives a sharp grin before letting out another laugh and speeding up to resume her spot with Verona and Marishka. The wind whips at your back, causing the cloak to wrap around your front, you feel yourself being pulled up and jostled around until you’re almost in a position that resembles a bridal carry. Vlad uses one hand to pull the cloak all the way around your body, nestling you against him. You pull the hood further over your head before wrapping your arms into the cloak, balling it into your fists to hold onto the fabric, you turn your head until the wind is at the back of it, and at no risk of blowing the hood off. 

You shiver from the cold of your wet clothes, from the cold of the rain that is still falling, and from the wind that gets stronger from how fast you’re going through the air, the shivering leads to you being pulled impossibly closer to the creature that carries you, looking up to find sharp eyes already upon you, bat ears swivelling back and forth, listening for any signs of danger or discomfort. You can’t really read his expression, not in this form anyways. 

“How is it that I always end up falling from dangerous heights into water?” giving a half-hearted smile to convey that you’re telling a joke, and that you’ll be okay. You’re not given a verbal response, just a deep chuckle and the slight digging of sharp claws into your back, almost like his little way of jokingly warning you to ‘knock it off’. You let out a small giggle, laying your head against him once more, before closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep. 

~~~

‘The peace that I felt, the sense of homeliness within the presence of Vlad and his Brides. The comfort of having these people who loved and cared for one another begin to love and care for me was something that I cannot describe in its entirety to you.’ 

There was no telling how long you were into the flight or where exactly you were going when you woke up. Your clothes were dry and the rain had stopped, although the clouds wherever you were out hovered ominously in the air with the promise of more. You let out a yawn, trying your best to stretch out your limbs while not trying to move so much that you felt like you’d fall. You feel a large hand about three times the size of your own smooth itself over the top of your hooded head before a deep rumbling voice lets out a curt remark of “Almost there.” 

It’s then that you see a large castle, much bigger than Castle Frankenstein or the one in Budapest. It has a bridge that leads nowhere, broken off not even one-fourth of the way across, surrounded by a deep abysmal ravine and peaks of snowy mountains for as far as the eyes can see, offering no way in, and no way out. 

Unless you had wings of course. 

The wives drop down around the halfway mark of the crumbled bridge and Vlad follows suit, dropping down effortlessly, transforming mid-descent, all with you still in his arms. He sets you on your feet slowly as the other three come towards you, their steps almost floating, the ethereal echoing filling the air around you once more. Hands come out to pat your hair and your clothes, various questions being thrown about; Are you alright? Are you cold? Do you need anything? You can’t help but fluster under all the attention, feeling your face grow warm. You go to answer their question before you’re caught off guard by a sneeze, which makes you shiver and bundle back into the cloak. They’re immediately sent into a panicked frenzy, going on about you falling ill from all the rain and cold, mumbles about a warm bath are the last thing you hear as they all disappear towards the castle doors, leaving you and Vlad standing there by yourselves. 

You turn to look at him, only to find him already staring at you, not that you’re surprised. He has this soft look in his eyes, one that you saw many times throughout your marriage in your previous life, there’s a smile on his face and you could swear that there was colour in his cheeks. 

You gaze around at your surroundings and are met with the sight of skeletons impaled on posts lining the bridge, giving Vlad an incredulous look you’re met with a look of sheer innocence. “Well I’ve seen this decor before.” laughing as you speak, “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Vlad instantly responds without pause, wrapping his right arm around your shoulders, walking you towards the castle doors. “Oh really? So you’d have me believe that this is the doing of your brides?” feigning ignorance as you gently hit your forehead, “Oh silly me I had almost forgotten that you were married to Verona the Impaler.” sarcasm drips from your every word as he turns his head to look at you from under his brow. 

The walk remains silent for the next few minutes as you make your way inside the castle and begin traversing up the stairs. “Vlad,” met with a small hum, “How did you find this place?” You’re met with silence, watching as various emotions subtly twinge his features. “I didn’t find this place. I was banished here.” He doesn’t elaborate as you come to a set of doors, arm leaving your shoulders to hold it open for you. It opens to an expansive room, with another door in the room that is currently open with gentle wafts of steam billowing out of it. You’re met with the brides, who are finishing up drawing you a bath. You thank them repeatedly, stating that they didn’t need to do that for you, but are quickly silenced as they leave the room, except for Verona. 

“I’ll take your dress for you so it may be cleaned. The water has muddied it.” Giving a nod, you take off the cloak and move to drop it next to you before a hand swoops out and grabs it, throwing it over his forearm. Vlad then moves behind you to untie the laces of your dress, loosening it enough for you to drop it down your shoulders, where it is then promptly taken by Verona who leaves the room soon after. 

You make your way to the tub, trying to throw a leg over the edge in a very ungraceful manner before a hand is quickly placed on the small of your back, stabilising you as you lower yourself into the water that was at a perfect temperature. You move to take off all your jewellery, realising that you’re still wearing your wedding ring on a chain. Taking off the chain you remove the ring, acutely aware of Vlad’s eyes on you, sliding it onto your finger where it rightly belongs. 

“Are we still technically married?” question thrown thoughtlessly, “If I… you know, died.” growing quiet at the acknowledgement of your death, looking down and frowning to yourself. “Oh of course we are, my darling.” A cool hand tilting your chin back up to deliver you a kiss before pulling your head back some more to wet your hair. “Do not think otherwise.” 

You sit in a calm silence as he gently washes your hair before you decide to address what was really bothering you. “So, you were banished? By who?” He’s quiet for a few moments, the only sound in the room being the gently scraping of his claws as he swirls your hair around. “My father.” he says, voice nothing but a whisper, “after you and I died, I had a vision. The Devil had come to visit me to offer me eternal life, on the one condition that I would have to feast upon the living. I didn’t want it at first, I knew you were already gone, and the thought of living eternally without you was too much to bear, but the Devil told me that I’d be able to get you back if I agreed, so without thinking I made a pact with him.” 

Listening quietly as he rinses your hair and moves onto your body.

“When I awoke, I was in our home, in a pool of my own dried up blood. I saw the wreckage of the room and the rest of the estate and had no other option but to travel back to town. I walked on foot until I reached the Village where I was then met with the frightened looks of all the townspeople. When I arrived at the home of my father he was so disgusted by me and the demon that I had become that he had his men clap me in irons and walk me to a door of which there was no return, banishing me to this castle. I laid weak at the very edge of that bridge for many weeks, hoping that someone would come to let me back through, but when it was obvious that no one was coming, and that I was growing hungrier and weaker, I called upon the Devil once more, and he gave me wings.” 

You turn to look at him when the sound of light sizzling reaches your ears. “Oh, Vlad.” Reaching forward, the water of the tub gently sloshing with your movements, you place your hands on both sides of his face, fingers swiping carefully under his eyes to stop the tears before they can cause anymore damage. You pull his face towards you, placing your forehead against his own, closing your eyes and basking in the comfort of his presence. “I’m so sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for, my darling.” Leaning forward to kiss him, you move one hand upwards to push the wayward strand of hair out of his face. His own hands come up to cradle your head, smoothing down over the back of your neck. “You would not imagine how torturous of an existence it was without you.” Voice hoarse and deep, his eyes darting back and forth across your face. “I think I could.” Leaning back up to kiss him once more, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You press your lips impossibly closer against his own, letting a soft noise of content escape your throat, that draws a hum from Vlad in return.

“You don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to.” Pulling away and giving him the most sincere look you possibly could. The droplets of water on your back had dried and left you chilled, quickly dunking your body back underneath the surface of the warm water while Vlad reached for a very soft linen, gathering up all your hair and gently patting it dry. “No, no, it’s alright, my darling. After the Devil gave me wings I travelled to feast and rebuild my strength, then I went looking for you. Your body had washed up on a bit of shore quite far down the river, the shore was connected to a small alcove of trees and flowers. I buried you there, along with Agnes, where no one would ever be able to bother you.” He finishes with your hair, moving to grab another linen which he holds out across both arms. You take the initiative and lift yourself up and out of the tub, grabbing onto his shoulder for support as he wraps the soft and plush fabric around you, before helping you out. 

When you reenter the grand bedroom you find that a fire has been lit in the fireplace across from the bed, the flames roaring and flickering, filling the space with a comfortable warmth. You also find, to your shock, that your dress is sitting dry on the edge of the bed, cleaned and looking brand new. “Help me with it?” gesturing your hand to the dress, moving towards it as Vlad does the same, continuing with his story as he laces it up for you. 

“My existence trudged by slowly and painfully for many years after that. Even though I no longer feel emotion the way I once did, I can still feel hints of it, little tuggings of yearning or sorrow. I needed something to fill the loss, and that’s when I found Verona. She was a princess, if you couldn’t tell, she had regality and poise and she was stubborn in a way that reminded me of you. Then Marishka, who was a dancer in a travelling show, and then Aleera, who lived in the Village with Anna.” You raise your eyebrows, even though he can’t see it. “I didn’t realise that Aleera was that young.” a taunting lilt in your voice, remembering that you were only twenty years old when Vlad married you in 1460.

He pulls a little tighter on the strings, causing you to gasp and whip your head around to give him a look that simply says ‘Seriously?’  You open your mouth to say something when your stomach lets out a sound that rivals that of the fire blazing in the room, a heat filling your face as you slightly pucker your lips out of embarrassment. He laughs at this, tying off your dress. “Come, let’s get you something to eat.”

~~~

You spend the next two days relaxing in the company of the Brides, the more time you spend with them the more you come to love them. Marishka is witty, Aleera is a gossip, and Verona is a scholar, and their varying personalities make for a refreshing change throughout the day. You had, however, indulged all the girls in stories of what Vlad was like when he was still alive, the wistful look in all their eyes making it hard to deny them anything. You didn’t leave out a single detail, telling stories that made the girls cry, giggle, and blush, saying things that Vlad would surely deny if he was ever asked about them. 

Vlad had disappeared, to where exactly in the castle, you weren’t sure, but you were fairly certain it had something to do with the Frankenstein Monster and reviving the undead children. Even though the girls could keep you distracted you couldn’t help but have that nagging fear at the back of your mind; Van Helsing was still out there, and he wouldn’t stop until Vlad and the Brides were dead. Gabriel is vindictive and persistent, and you’ve seen what happens to those who test him. You’d expressed these feelings to the Brides, who had immediately began comforting you, the ethereal echoing and cooing bouncing off the stone walls as you were hugged and held while you spilled your every thought to them.

When you’d told them that Gabriel had been bitten by a werewolf, they all grew deadly quiet. The cooing had quickly turned into scared whispers that sent a chill down your spine before Verona quickly jumped up, changed, then flew off, presumably to pass this new information along to Vlad. 

“Vlad can control the wolves though, right?” A look passes between Marishka and Aleera, before the latter turns to you, “Only after their first full moon, before that they pose so much trouble.” “We can be killed by stakes, holy water, and other things, but Vlad is the first of us, our master, and he cannot be killed so easily.” chimes in Marishka before also leaving, quickly following after Verona. “There is only one thing in this world that can kill Dracula.” words spoken softly, timidly, Aleera sliding a hand down your arm before she moves to leave. “Can you guess what it is?”

Yes, you could guess. A werewolf. 

~~~

‘The final battle was beginning. I could feel myself being split in two, the half that was loyal to Anna, Carl, Van Helsing and the Vatican was fighting the half that was loyal to my husband, Verona, Marishka, and Aleera.

You had spent the rest of the night alone, sleep not finding you as you retired back to the bedroom, only to pace back and forth, nerves and nausea tearing at your stomach. It was later on during the witching hour when the door quietly opened, a dark figure making its way inside. “Vlad!” Crying out his name breathlessly, rushing to him to throw your head into his chest and your arms around his waist. His arms immediately find their way around you, pulling you so tight against him that there is no way to move, a gentle kiss pressed against the top of your head. 

He bends his knees, one arm lowering to rest right beneath your butt, hoisting you up effortlessly into his arms before walking over to the bed and laying down with you atop him. Your head lays on his chest, yet the room is absolutely silent. There is no noise beneath your ear, no gentle pulsing of a heartbeat, just hollow silence. The two of you say no words, and truth be told you don’t really think any need be spoken. You both understand what is to come, the battle that is no doubt making its way towards you. Vlad just holds you, a hand atop your head, lithe fingers running through your hair in a soothing manner. You feel yourself drifting to sleep, eyes growing heavy. You can hear him mummering to you in a language long forgotten in your dreary haze, making out a few words here and there. 

Another kiss is placed gently upon your forehead as the heavy covers of the bed are pulled up and over you, protecting you from the bitter cold of the castle. And with that, you sleep.

~~~

When you awake it is to the sound of thunder, and the view of lightning and pouring rain. There’s just the tiniest hint of light filtering through the rain, but the ever-prevalent darkness tells you that it’s almost nighttime, meaning that you’ve woken up just before everyone else. You step out of bed, stretching, before making your way over to the door. As you step out you’re met with the sight of the Dwergi roaming through the halls carrying various tools and papers. They don’t speak to you, they don’t even look at you, they just continue bustling down the hall as if you weren’t even there. You go the opposite direction of the Dwergi and make your way down the flight of stairs that leads to the connecting hall of the castle that will lead you to the wing where Vlad and the girls sleep. 

It’s then that you can hear the frantic blubbering of Igor from the main entrance. “How did you- how did you find… it’s impossible!” Quickly peeking out from around the corner of the door, you’re met with the sight of Igor hanging from the wall, blubbering some more as the person in front of him throws a hand around his neck. 

Van Helsing was here. 

You quickly try to think of a way to get around them so you can warn Vlad that they’re here when a loud shriek fills the entire castle, reverberating off the walls so loudly that you have to cover your ears for a split moment. You can faintly hear Igor, “my master has awakened,” and you take that as your moment to quickly sprint across the hall when the attention of everyone is taken by the Frankenstein Monster. 

You run up the stairs, following your instinct of where Vlad would be. You know that usually when he awakes he goes to the overseeing of the Dwergi working on bringing the children back to life, so you run as fast as you can to the Laboratory. Making your way up the spiral staircase that leads to the top of the tower you’re hit with the strangest sense of Deja Vu, ignoring the pit in your stomach that tells you the last time you went up a staircase like this you died. 

The doors open as you approach them, the Dwergi ever diligent in their appeasement of the masters of this home. You quickly stride across the room, dodging sparks and Dwergi before making your way to Vlad in the middle of the room. “Vlad! Vlad he’s here, Van Helsing is here.” words spoken in a panic, eyes wide open as you gasp for breath. You’re sure he can feel your fear, your heartbeat pounding wildly out of control, the whooshing of blood in your ears making it hard to hear anything else. 

His eyebrows furrow before his facial features morph into one of sheer rage, face partially transforming as he lets out an inhuman screech. Not even a split second later, Verona, Marishka, and Aleera appear before you, awaiting word from Vlad. “If Van Helsing has truly been bitten, they will go for the cure, I want you to go and stop them. Stop them and bring the cure to me.” They disappear as fast as they arrive, flying off in a mixture of shrieks and laughs. 

“And as for you, my darling.” Turning to look at you before you promptly cut him off. “No, I’m staying right here.” He protests, but you shut those down as well. “No, Vlad. You remember what happened the last time Van Helsing broke into our home and we were both apart from one another.” The question was rhetorical, and it seemed to garner the reaction that you wanted, Vlad seeming to be in deep thought. He slowly nods his head, but points back over to the door. “Fine, but you stay over there. Out of the way, you forget that you are still human, my darling.”

You wait anxiously by the door like Vlad told you, watching as lightning strikes and fills the room with an eerie green glow. Throwing your arms over your head for some form of protection as you hear a shout of “Give me life!” echo through the room. “One more bolt and my young will live!” You watch as Vlad suddenly becomes enraged, flying through one of the glass windows of the room. 

Moments later Van Helsing drops through the open tower that leads into the middle of the room, setting a few Dwergi on fire as he bursts through machinery. He stumbles as he stands back up, face twisted in confusion and pain, looking around the room. He spots you by the door, in your dress, covered in jewels with your hair done, looking every bit the part of one of Vlad’s brides. He looks betrayed, and for a moment you feel a sharp pain in your chest, wishing that you could say something to him, but before you could even think of what to say, Vlad drops back down, quietly behind Gabriel, sneaking up on him. 

“You are too late, my friend! My children live!” Vlad exclaims, stalking towards Gabriel, “Then the only way to kill them, is to kill you.” Nodding his head with a loose hand gesture, “Correct.” This causes Gabriel to laugh as he moves in front of the window, “Then so be it!” dropping his coat off as the clock strikes midnight. He transforms into a wolf with each toll of the clock as Vlad gives you a quick look before feigning surprise, maniacally laughing. 

“We are both part of the same great game, Gabriel! But we need not find ourselves on opposite sides of the board!” Quickly changing himself as he and Gabriel begin fighting one another. You duck down quickly next to a barrel as they traverse the whole room, explosions following their movements. 

You watch as Vlad throws a board off of himself, walking towards the middle of the room. “You are being used, Gabriel, as was I, but I escaped, so can you!” Before quickly flying off as Van Helsing jumps for him. You gasp as Vlad is thrown to the ground in a sound of extreme pain, revealing a broken wing. Watching as he jumps up to a platform, before falling, rolling over to his side to reveal that he is covered in blood and scratches. Van Helsing extends his claws before dragging them down a pillar in a threatening manner, jumping up to Vlad.

“Don’t you understand?” Backing away from Van Helsing, there’s a very obvious limp in his gait, causing you to step out from your spot, moving closer to where the two are. “We could be… We could be friends! Partners! Brothers in arms!” trying in vain to get away as Van Helsing catches him by the neck. You scream out his name, moving towards him before an arm is quickly gestured in your way, a sign for you to stay away. 

“Did I mention that it was you who murdered me? It must be such a burden, such a curse, to be the left hand of God.” Quickly appearing behind Van Helsing, “All I want is life, Gabriel. The continuation of my kind.” He throws a look towards you before holding up his hand, ring finger suddenly missing, “And perhaps the return of my ring! Don’t be afraid Gabriel, don’t be afraid. I shall give you back your life, your memory.” 

You miss the rest of what happens as a vial is placed in your hand. Snapping your head around your met with Verona, her vampiric face covered in scratches and bloody marks. “Give it to him, we must finish holding off the monster and the girl.” Flying back off to wherever she came from, you turn around right as Van Helsing jumps across the room, pinning Vlad to a piece of machinery, catching him off guard. 

He struggles to fight him off, Van Helsing's mouth getting closer and closer to Vlads neck. Vlad is using both hands to try and keep the werewolf as far away from him as possible, so giving him the cure is out of the option. 

There’s only one thing that you can do. 

Running across the room you’re able to make it to the pair right as Vlad’s arms give out from the effort of keeping Van Helsing away. He goes in for the finishing move but before he can your shoe scuffs against the floor, gaining his attention. He turns around, growling, pouncing on you without even a second look. You gasp as you’re hit, vaguely registering Vlad scream as you fly through the air with the wolf, quickly sticking the syringe into his side as you hit against a pillar, landing limply on the ground. 

Eyes wide open, but not seeing, slowly clouding over as you breathe your last breath, leaving nothing but a corpse on the floor. 

~~~

“No! What have you done!” words screamed throughout the room, Dracula making an ear-piercing shriek as he made his way across to you, pulling you into his arms, gently cradling your head. Cries of pain and shock are heard throughout the room as Gabriel turns back into himself, dropping to his knees before the dead body of his friend. 

Dracula is muttering words to you that Gabriel can’t understand as the three brides come bursting in through a window, one of them grabbing him by his shoulders and throwing him out the window onto the bridge that connects to the mirror they came through. On the bridge he is met with the sight of Anna, Carl, and the Frankenstein Monster slumped against the reflective surface. He approaches, shaking the shoulders of Anna and Carl to wake them up. Anna awakens first, groggily, “What is it? What happened?” placing her hand atop of Gabriels, the fog of her mind clearing away as she realises that Gabriel is crying. “What is it, Van Helsing, what has happened? Is Dracula dead?” He shakes his head, mummering your name quietly. “What about her? Is she alright?” He makes eye contact with Carl who is now also awake, watching as the realisation hits Carl, lip quivering “She’s dead.” Carl says with a finality, hanging his head and also crying. 

Van Helsing places his hand and quietly murmurs the word that will get the door to open before standing up and limping his way through. 

Damn the Vatican, as far as they’ll know, Dracula was defeated.

~~~

“No! What have you done!” words choked out through his injured throat. He lets out a shriek that will summon his Brides to him, running towards you before swooping to his knees, grabbing you, watching as your limbs remain limp, head flopping on a broken neck. He can feel the tears come, feel them burning tracks through his skin but he can’t find it in himself to care. He’s vaguely aware of Verona riding the room of Van Helsing, before all three of his brides drop sadly next to him, all of them holding onto you. Cries echo throughout the room, his pain is their pain, but their pain is also their own, given all the bonding they had done with you over the past few days. 

He places one hand upon your chest, right over your heart, and that’s when he feels one faint, barely-there swoosh of blood travelling through the organ. 

It’s not too late.

Ducking his head down immediately to latch his teeth onto your neck, draining you of your blood. He holds his arm out, feeling a nail slice down his wrist, not sure who’s but it really doesn’t matter. He holds his hand to your face as he continues to drink your blood, watching his own trickle into your mouth. He pulls away from you, leaning his head towards his shoulder to wipe his mouth off, waiting for the cut on his wrist to heal itself, deeming that enough of his blood had been shared. 

You remain eerily still. Not a twitch of the muscles, a blink of the eye, nothing. “Normally there would be a reaction by now.” words murmured to himself, but are met by the supportive whispers and touches of his Brides. “Oh, my Lord.” Verona speaks, running a gentle hand across his face, “It takes some time, you remember how long it was until it took with Marishka. We waited almost all night.” Marishka murmurs her agreement, remembering the words spoken to her when she had awoken to her new life, ‘We thought you weren’t going to make it.’ But she had made it, and surely you would too. 

“Let's move her to her room, master.” Aleera standing up and moving towards the door, “She will be more comfortable there.” Vlad can’t help but agree, moving his arm that wasn’t cradling your head under your knees and scooping you up, making his way towards the door. He walks quietly through the halls, dropping you gently on the bed before making his way to the bathroom to retrieve a damp linen to wipe the blood off with. When he arrives back in the main suite he notices that his Brides have already removed all your jewels and undressed you, finding a soft shirt that Vlad briefly recognizes as one of his own to take the place of the dress you were wearing. 

He quietly wipes down your shoulder where he bit you, small flakes of dry and crusted blood coming off with ease. He then tosses the linen off to the side and takes a gentle seat next to you on the bed so as to not jostle you around. 

Vlad is a patient man, and vows to sit and wait for as long as you may need. 

~~~

You wake up in the room that belongs to you and Vlad. Sunlight shining in through the large windows, filling the room with tiny fragments of rainbows. You turn your head to the side and gaze upon your husband sleeping peacefully beside you, not being able to help the soft smile that overtakes your face. Leaning back down to place a flurry of kisses along the warm skin of his face, giggling quietly to yourself. 

The quiet romanian muttering as he stretches all his limbs at once alert you to the fact that you have succeeded in waking him up, watching as he cracks one eye open for only a split second before it closes again. “It is far too early, my darling.” His arm comes to pull you back down towards the plush surface of the bed, wrapping you up snug against himself. “Too early? Vlad, it's daytime.” “Still far too early for my taste, and besides, you should be getting all the rest you can.” A finger poking gently at your stomach. “It will be good for you both.” 

You don’t argue, cuddling up to him and placing your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. 

Wait, Vlad doesn’t have a heartbeat. 

You snap open your eyes, the room is no longer sunny, it’s stormy and reeks of death. You’re covered head to toe in blood and Vlad’s dead body is laying in the centre of the room, hand clutching his chest, a pool of blood surrounding him. 

You spin around, breathing, panicking, turning towards the doorway when a hand of claws snatches you up by the neck; Gabriel. He walks you to the window before throwing you out, you fall, plummeting towards your doom, when all of a sudden you stop.

You stop mid-air, something catching you. Turning your gaze upwards assuming you’d find something holding yourself, something that was preventing you from falling, only to find nothing but clear sky. You hear the gentle whooshing of wings, grey clipping through your line of sight out of your peripheral vision. Frantically looking around, slightly panicked you realise that the wings are yours. Looking down at the rest of you only to be faced with the sight of ashy grey skin, hands lifting up revealing lithe fingers with monstrous claws. 

You don’t panic, no, instead you revel in it. Smiling to yourself as you launch yourself into the sky, wings working furiously to move you higher and higher, and you bask in the feeling of freedom that it brings you. You move up towards the clouds, white filling your vision. 

And then you wake up. 

~~~

You open your eyes, overwhelmed by everything you see. 

It’s as if the whole world has changed, everything is so much more clear than it used to be. You can see everything; the intercrossing of the fabric of the sheets that lay overtop of you, the various colours of the flickering flames in the fireplace across the room, the detail of each individual snowflake that falls in front of the window. Turning your vision to the left, finding Vlad sitting on the edge of the bed facing the wall. 

Moving a hand from where it lays across your chest to place it gently on his arm. He jumps in surprise as you snap him out of whatever melancholic reverie that he was in, head snapping around to gaze at you in pure disbelief and relief. He scoops you up into a sitting position as he pulls your torso against his own in what should have been, quite literally, a bone crushing hug. “I thought it hadn’t worked.” words muffled from where his head lays pressed against the crook of your neck. “You were so still for so long, I… Never, never leave me again, I couldn’t bear it.” 

Pulling your head back slightly, Vlad doing the same, the two of you hold eye contact for a moment, opening your mouth to say something you instantly grimace, closing it back and reaching a hand up to grasp your throat, a searing pain now making itself known, a pain that you recognize as thirst. “Are you hungry?” Nodding your head to him at the same time the door to the room bursts open, Verona, Marishka, and Aleera pouring into the room in a symphony of ethereal echoings and giggles. Aleera is carrying a cup of a viscous red fluid which she then hands over to you. “Perfectly aged, to tide you over until we can get to the village.” 

Taking the contents of the cup with greedy gulps, you find that it doesn’t taste as metallic as you would’ve thought, in fact it’s not metallic at all, it’s actually rather sweet. It helps the pain in your throat enough that you can pretend it’s not there, at least until you get some more. The other four people in the room watching your reaction, and as you tilt the cup all the way to the ceiling to try and get the last dregs from it there’s a deep chuckle from Vlad. 

“Don’t worry, my darling, we’ll leave for the village and then you may sate your thirst.” 

The girls grab you, pulling you up from the bed, once the sheet drops you realise that you’re back in your dress, fully looking the part of your new life. There’s giggling and excitement filling the air, and you can help but practically vibrate in place from the joy that’s coursing through your veins. Once you’re up you all prance out the door and into the hallway. 

Vlad watches on in contentment at the billowing of green, yellow, pink, and blue fabrics through the hallway, the four of you radiating sheer joy and happiness. 

You’re not exactly sure where you’re going, but you follow the girls willingly. They lead you to a large room with dramatic arches on the ceiling, and large, sheer drapes hanging down from various spots. There’s a thick stone coffin with no top lying in the dead centre of the room surrounded by tall candelabras and you assume that it’s Vlad’s, which leads you to wonder where the girls sleep. Across the room there’s a carved out arch that leads to nothing but a solid wall, and you wonder what it’s even there for. When Vlad finally does catch up to you he throws his arms out wide, welcoming all four of you to him. When you’re all together you begin to slide across the floor towards the wall, the second you come into contact with it, you seem to almost melt through it, coming out the other side to a room that you remember being in Castle Frankenstein. 

It’s a portal. 

There’s an open skylight in the room that it leads out into, and when the girls begin to transform you know that’s your exit to the village. They fly up, leaving you and Vlad alone in the room, but hovering over the Castle, flying around in circles until you’re ready to join them. 

You stand awkwardly for a moment, turning to look at Vlad. “Um, how do I, you know,” arm coming up to gesture loosely towards the sky. “There’s really no way to explain it, you don’t think, my darling, you just do it.” Transforming himself, lapels melding into wings before he too, takes flight. 

“Oh yes because that advice is so helpful.” mumbling under your breath even though you know that he can hear you still, nevertheless you try to take his advice, willing yourself to fly, closing your eyes tight and balling up your fists to focus. When you hear cackles of laughter close by you open your eyes back up, realising that you’ve lifted through the skylight and are in-fact flying. Your skin grey to match the wives, equipped with claws and teeth of your own. 

You fly in a few test circles before giving a reassuring nod to them all. Then, you all take off towards the village. As you fly, you notice three horses racing through the mountains out of the corner of your eye, your newfound heightened senses allowing you to see miles ahead of where you used to be able to before. 

Upon one of the horses, is someone in a shaggy brown cloak; Carl. On the second, someone with a head full of curls, bouncing behind them with the movement of the horse; Anna. And on the last, someone who wears a leather coat and a hat, someone who with all his training surely recognises the feeling of the eyes that lay upon him as his head turns to look back, someone who notices that there is one more bat in the air than there used to be, someone who ignores this fact as he turns back around and continues on his way.

And so do you. 

~

Originally posted April 14th, 2023.

[starwarspossum]

Sasha headcanons drop? really? with illustration? wow

so Sashalore:

I tell it to person who don`t know SW so there is a lot of small detiles you know

Kallus was most likely born on the lower levels of Coruscant – not a very pleasant place to be born, to be honest. Imagine something like the local equivalent of Kupchino or Murino, but buried under a hundred or more levels of the city-planet.

Most likely, the family he was born into was far from rich or even particularly well-off. The story is pretty classic – his mother remarried a man who, in the first months or year of the Clone Wars, became disabled and could no longer continue fighting. So this stepfather, with chronic pain and PTSD, started (or continued) drinking and beating the family (and if you’re curious about why there are such straight white scars on Callus' back, well, it’s better not to ask).

Kallus had a dream of escaping that place, and although when he was very young it was limited to thoughts of "I’ll run away," but as he grew older, a better option presented itself. Since the Clone Wars were ongoing, despite the Republic's army being mostly made up of clones, they couldn’t supply the entire army with them (I guess). Therefore, regular humans were needed, and propaganda probably encouraged people to join the army or military schools to "protect democracy." When you think about it, joining a military academy is a better option than running to nowhere – and it was a clear, understandable social lift, and most importantly, stability, which little Kallus never had in his life. So, between his father’s alcohol binges, his mother’s breakdowns, police calls, and all sorts of other family issues, he found an old holopad and started studying everything to make sure he wouldn’t fail the entrance exams.

And it worked! Because he’s stubborn and smart. He literally gave himself entirely to his studies, at first because the military academy was the only place where he had a bed (always dry, warm, and comfortable), where he was always fed (three times a day at certain times), and where everything was simple, clear, and safe. Then, as he progressed in his studies, he developed a more defined goal – Alex didn’t want others to suffer as he had. He wanted to bring peace and order to others.

[liaoakenshield]

Star Wars x F1

[prosenna]

"I think I saw you that day." Ayrton said as he set aside his helmet.

"That day?" He answers, not quite understanding what he's referring to.

"That day, when you faced the Sarlacc."

Alain takes a moment to remember that, his face filling with realization as he realizes he's speaking.

"You... were there? How...?"

Ayrton smiles noncommittally but that leaves more questions. Alain remembers that day, but that happened when he was still a padawan, barely older than a child. How could Ayrton have been there?

How long have they really known each other?

So, an F1 Au!SW, jumping eras depending on the stages of history.

Their story is set in the time of the clone wars. Alain is a Jedi general who runs into Ayrton, a Mandalorian from one of the great clans of Mandalore (let's assume that this thing about peaceful Mandalorians from TCW doesn't happen here).

Their relationship is going well until it doesn't go well, in the years of the war both face each other on several occasions but they realize how similar they are.

Alain didn't want to participate in the war because he thought he wasn't worthy of the Jedi. Ayrton could only see how the war was undermining the Mandalorians' trust in their government as well as the separatist incursions into their politics.

For the last months of the war, both have joined together, they have spoken many times on intercoms (secretly from their sides). Both would like to leave everything behind but duty comes first.

When the war ends, Mandalore has ceased to exist as a free planet, along with the galaxy.

And Ayrton is gone too.

Long live the empire.

---

... But well, there would be other minor plots. Like Gilles and Didier as Jedi, or Alesi being Alain's Padawan.

Berger and Piquet give me more Mandalorian vibes.

Or Niki as a Jedi who befriends (after a little fight) a "Young" heir to a great fortune in Corellia named James Hunt. Lots of Han Solo vibes there.

Any other ideas there?

Among the newer pilots, I imagine Max as an Imperial pilot who, realizing the horror around him, decides to escape the empire and meets a certain sheriff named Sergio from a forgotten planet.

Maybe between the two of them they'll manage to get tangled up with the rebels. It's something that sounds like it happens in SW stories.

Or perhaps a more dramatic story with Lewis and Nico as padawans at the time of the fall of the Republic but seeing the horrors of war, Lewis decides that the Jedi must do what they must do while Nico refuses and leaves the order.

Only for them to meet many years later while Lewis is part of the rebels and Nico acts as the governor of a planet in the outer rim hiding that he is a force sensitive (albeit for good reasons, as he is in the fulcrum network to help hide other force sensitive children).

[so-sures-blog]

Teenage Mercenary Headcanons

(Most of these are of Dayeon Yu because she's my fave character, but the Numbers are thrown in, too!)

☆☆☆

— Dayeon absolutely knows Ijin's secret, but she isn't confronting him because she wants him to trust her and come forward himself. Dayeon is sweet, not oblivious.

Who do you think sews the clothes whenever he gets slashed? Washed out the blood? Takes out the trash that has all his bloody bandages? She's literally seen him try to stab someone's eye out with a chopstick. Fight against experienced killers when she was kidnapped with Yeona. It only takes a quick google search to find out Dushik Cha is the biggest gangster in Seoul, Korea — and Ijin has him on speed dial. When the Congressman and his childrens' crimes broke the news, you think Dayeon didn't see it — didn't notice that with all the videos posted on the internet, only hers wasn't shown?

Ijin got a job at SW, the most prestigious company in the entire world, as a bodyguard. You have to have an extreme amount of fighting talent and skill to be able to become a bodyguard there, even as a part-timer. Normally, that would take months, years to be accepted. Nobody knew how he was scouted, not even the higher-ups. Which would mean Ijin was personally hired and got the job through connections with the CEO of SW.

The point is that Ijin is the most unsubtle person on the planet, and Dayeon is ready.

— The Numbers have tattoos! After they got initiated, they all got tattoos of their numbers. It serves as a reminder that they belong to The Camp and have no identity beyond that.

— I feel like Dayeon would be really into psychology. Being bullied by Huijin for years, I think that Dayeon would pick up behavioral cues from her as a coping mechanism. She is very observant, so I imagine she psychoanalyzes those around her to determine whether or not they are good people. I also see her use her psychology skills to translate into being a detective for learning about Ijin and the Numbers. I can picture her basically backing the Numbers into a corner and forcing them to talk about their feelings. She has a lot of impromptu therapy sessions.

— Ijin and Dayeon go to a rich kid school but live in a bad neighborhood. Yeona Sin, granddaughter of the SW CEO, goes to their school, and so did the Congressman's children, so it has to be a rich kid school. I headcannon that Grandpa Yu worked hard to send Dayeon to a good school, so that's why she goes there even though they don't have money. Also, they live in a bad neighborhood because how else would Ijin beat up high-school assholes and live within motorcycle-riding distance from Dushik Cha, Seoul's #1 gangster?

— The Numbers speak multiple languages! Being sent on multiple assignments in different continents, I feel like they would pick up different languages in order to blend in.

— Dayeon is good with first aid! It's not through want, but when she was being bullied, she had to patch up her own injuries by herself, so she became well practiced in it. And, when she was younger and first learning how to cook, she kept on getting cuts on her hands from the knife. But she didn't want her grandpa to worry and send her to the hospital for stitches, so she learned to do it herself! 

(Inspired by my mother, who cut herself with a knife and promptly sewed herself up with a needle and thread with no tears or medical experience whatsoever.)

She helps heal her brother's injuries. She's not as good at stitches as Ijin is, but she insists she has to when he comes home with injuries, and it's the thought that counts, right? Also, she took it upon herself to learn CPR for her grandpa when she was really young in case he had a heart attack from his weak heart ;(

— Dayeon steals her brother's jackets and wears them around. At first, it was merely coincidence — her just grabbing the first thing when she's in a rush — but soon it becomes a habit to reach for Ijin's jacket instead of her own. They're comfy and oversized, and she loves it. Her favorite is the grey one with white armbands Ijin often wears. Ijin doesn't mind. Her wearing his jackets actually protects her more even when he is not around. He goes out and takes care of high school jerks often so that they start to recognize the clothing he beat them up in.

High-School Gangster: (sees Dayeon walking home alone innocently) Ooh, cute girl!

Gang: (goes up to harass her before pausing when they see her jacket.) Wait ...

(Recognizing Ijin's jacket, paling, and realizing that he with absolutely fuck them up if they mess with his little sister.)

Gang: (jumping the guy who pointed out Dayeon, beating him up.) You piece of shit! Don't you drag us into your goddamn death wish!

Ijin traumatized all the gangs in the area, and it's beautiful.

— Ijin and Dayeon have dimples! At first, it was only Dayeon because I researched and found dimples represent a sign of beauty and cheerfulness in many cultures, which I thought suited her perfectly. But then I wanted Ijin and Dayeon to have something in common due to resemblance, and the dimples appeared. Also, I wanted the Numbers to have that extra wow factor when they see Ijin's smile and realize he has dimples.

— Grian is a melting pot filled with orphaned children of all ethnicities. I imagined that missionaries from all countries came to Grian to try and "fix it up" before having children with the locals. Maybe the parents were killed, or they abandoned them, but the point is that most of the children there grew up orphaned before they were inducted into military camps.

— Besides Ijin and 032, all of the other Numbers are in their mid-to-late twenties. Think about it — it's been 10 years since the plane crash, and they were all teenagers when they were in the Camp. And none of them look especially older or younger.

— Ijin takes after his parents in looks. He has his mom's hair and his dad's face. You can tell he was their son just by looking at him. That's why Grandpa Yu was so emotional when Ijin came back. It was like seeing his son and daughter-in-law come alive again within his grandson. But Dayeon?

Dayeon looks exactly like her grandma, so much that sometimes it literally hurts Grandpa Yu to look at her. It almost seems like a cruel twist of fate — to leave him with the little girl that looked exactly like his wife to raise when he should've been left with Ijin, so Grandpa can still have some part of his son and daughter-in-law with him (Dayeon internalized these thoughts when she was younger).

— Dayeon knows how to do makeup! Again, this was mostly out of necessity — she had to learn how to cover up the bruises when she was being bullied. The bullies were smart enough to not go for her face, but sometimes when she fought back she'd catch a blow across the cheek — hence, she was forced to learn how to cover it up with makeup and over the years has perfected the art of hiding bruises. Sometimes, when Ijin comes home with bruises, she drags him to her room and helps him cover it up with makeup.

— Ijin and Dayeon actually have a lot of similarities and neither of them realize it. They have the same habits and quirks, and subconsciously hold the same fears of revealing their past traumas. It's honestly a bit ironic and hilarious, seeing as physically Ijin and Dayeon look nothing alike for siblings. For example, Ijin works out and goes on runs when something is weighing on his mind while Dayeon paces the floor until it is practically worn and tries to busy herself with chores.

It always makes Dayeon petulant when one of her friends or the Numbers point it out because she knows firsthand how frustrating her brother can be.

— When Yeona gets drunk she has the habit of buying an excessive amount of things for her friends. Dayeon's cold? Watch her buy a full set of expensive winter gear for her. The guys are feeling hungry? She'll clear out the entire convenience store. She has zero recollection of what she bought the next day and Hyeokjin and Jaehyeong find it hysterical when they see all of the absurd, random things she's bought. The whole group makes fun of how much money she wracked up in a single night. Seokju always has to take away her wallet beforehand whenever they go out.

— After the whole kidnapping arc with Dayeon and Yeona, Seokju took it upon himself to teach the girls some basic self defense. Mostly it's dodging and escaping holds, and they've both gotten pretty good! When they first started out, Ijin would be staring lasers at Seokju on the sidelines whenever he would handle his sister, which he felt he could personally do without. Now, Ijin helps out with the training while Yeongchan, Jaehyeong, and Hyeokjin spectate and cheer. While it irks him, the girls love it and take the opportunity to show off what they've learned.

— Jaehyeong says that he doesn’t know what he wants to be in the future, but secretly he wants to be a race car driver. He loves cars. As soon as this guy gets his hands on a license, he’ll be driving everywhere. Constantly gets pulled over for speeding tickets. If the friend group was ever in an apocalypse, Jaehyeong would be their getaway driver simply because he’s crazy behind the wheel, and can probably pull off all those stunts you see in the movies. His grandpa is the chairman of Gihyeon Motors, so you bet he’ll have access to the best vehicles there is. He’s the guy who’ll pull up to school or a McDonald’s in a sports car just to brag (he’d get it in orange, simply because it’s his signature color and he likes to be obnoxious).

Keeps his dream of being a race car driver private because he doesn’t want his family to take that away from him (which they could). So far, his plan is to complete his military requirement after high school to stall his way from the family business — because unlike Hyeokjin, he hates business — but after that he’s got nothing. However, after seeing Yeongchan pursue a career in streaming, he found he can become much more courageous in voicing his opinion of his future.

— The funniest thing about 004 is that he actually has a resting pretty face but chooses to look like a straight up sewer demon on a regular basis. 005 said once in passing that “004 can actually look good if he just shuts his mouth” and instead of taking it as a challenge of being attractive while talking like a normal person, he chose to twist his facial features into the most horrific expressions possible while spewing nonsense. Still, in the rare moments when he is calm, his face softens and you can properly see the ‘pretty boy’ face he hides behind his ‘bad boy’ exterior.

— 016 is actually a bit of a baker amongst the Numbers. It was a hobby he indulged in recently when he found he had a bit of free time, and it had appealed to him because it required a lot of measurements and techniques that he — as a sniper — appreciated. It was a lot of trial and error for him since he literally had no idea what he was doing but he picked up the skill quickly and soon was making sweets from scratch that the Numbers frequently stole. He found that he doesn’t agree with having too much sugar in his desserts (hard to have much of a sweet tooth growing up in poverty) so he mainly makes desserts without much sugar, like shortbread.

— Ijin loves stargazing. He’s had the habit since he was a kid, constantly looking up since he knew he came from the sky when he was at the Camp. When he was on the run as a mercenary, he often turned to the stars to guide him when he didn’t have a map. When Major Kang found out Ijin liked stars he made sure to buff up on astronomy knowledge so he could teach him about constellations and such (Ijin never really got it which made him sulk). He thinks that something as beautiful as the night sky should simply be admired, not understood. It was the only thing that brought him peace when he was alone. He likes the silent beauty the stars can bring him; he can get lost staring at them for hours. It was a shame when he found out he can’t see them anymore thanks to Seoul’s light pollution, and it was one of the few things he missed when he was back in Grian.

[thecoffeelorian]

OC Sunday--Commander Miles!

(brief note: I kinda set this up like a Fandom.Com article, so please pardon me if it mimics the pages for canon Clone Troopers at certain points.)

FAST FACTS

Rank: Commander

Serial Number: CT-2589

Planet Of Service: Chandrila

Name History: CT-2589 once "borrowed" a training ship in order to see if there was anything on Kamino besides rain and metallic fortresses. Unfortunately for his longnecked minders, he made it exactly three miles away from Tipoca City before security caught up with him...and yet. Once the boys in the barracks got wind of his little joyride, that's when he found his name.

"You almost made it, Miles."

OC SPECIFICS

What would their favorite book be?

“ ‘Sunrise Over Saleucami’. It’s a sappy romance, I know…but a great distraction from the battlefield, regardless.”

What’s your favorite trait about them? Yes, just one. ;) 

“I’m always down for jumping into the thick of things! Er…maybe a little too much!”

What’s a weakness of theirs that they might not be aware of?

“You’ve been talkin’ to Sergeant Walters, haven’t you?! All right…ya got me. It’s rock collecting! In other words, I see a shiny piece of quartz, it’s MINE!”

What would they say is the most important thing in the world?

“Being there for your brothers, especially when they need you the most.”

What’s a hobby of theirs?

“Well…there’s the rock collecting, but sometimes I also stick little googly eyes on ‘em and leave them around the barracks for someone else to find. Don’t tell Ninety-Nine it was me.”

What would they order at Starbucks?

“Heh…I heard they don’t exactly approve of unionizing, so excuse me if I’ll take my Sergeant’s Insta-Brew instead. That one won’t cost me a single credit.”

Any scars/tattoos?

"I got Queen Apailana's face tattooed onto m' right shoulder, plus a kinda long scar across my nose from slamming my helmet on too quick. Think I'll let you all guess as to which one I'd remove if I had a choice." ;)

PANCAKE - what is their comfort breakfast? Since this is probably the SW equivalent of an Egg McMuffin, Commander Miles would totally go to Dex's Diner for some hot caf and a "Hungry Hutt" breakfast sandwich. Not only would it fill him up on the go, it's also supposed to be rather tasty, according to Dex himself.

DONUT - favourite sweet treat? Though wartime doesn't exactly give him time to enjoy a lot of new things, Commander Miles would probably enjoy hand pies such as the Corellian Ryshcate. Ya know, because it's warm, spiced, and delicious.

SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep? Hoo boy, here's a tough one...ok! Given that he's in charge of at least one other Trooper (Sergeant Walters), I think he'd be a first watch kind of guy, meaning that he would stay awake during the first few hours that other soldiers would generally be asleep. Once that rotation was over, however, he would most likely be out in a matter of minutes, if my thoughts make any sense.

SPECIAL NOTES

G.A.R. Goth Night History:

Commander Miles came in expecting to try a few galactic liquors, learn some new dances, and maybe get a compliment or two on his outfit...what he got, however, was this:

Random Tie To The Bad Batch:

Miles might have witnessed a certain little blond girl crawling through the vents late one night...but then again, he might have just imagined her.

Romance On Deck(?):

I may/may not have received a little too much inspiration from Taika Waititi, buuuut I had once imagined Miles falling hard and fast for a male Twi'lek bartender on Coruscant. As I'm in the middle of other projects, there's a chance that this story might never be written...however, my vacation weeks are coming up, so we'll see how things go later on.

NPT:

@ladykagewaki @aurathebardwife @ordo-core @nocturius8015ficore @gun-roswell

@orangez3st @the-osborn-way @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf and anybody else interested in Original Clone Content!

[sakura2arashi]

I've been kicking an idea around in my head for ages and I keep running into roadblocks, so I hope that if I write stuff down it'll organize my thoughts. Or at least prevent me from losing them in a plethora of handwritten notes scattered around.

I love the relationships and characters in SW, but I've always thought that they were problematic. Plus, the dynamics and backgrounds didn't really fit the narrative I'd built up in my head prior to the prequels.

Since I don't really do fanfic (really bad experience in the late 90s), I thought I could fix it with by tweaking the characters and placing them in an OC setting.

Padme - Love this girl, but they really wasted her potential. First I'd get rid of her election and make her born royalty or a position of power. She's clearly trained for it from birth. I got the impression that she and her peers voluntarily pursued politics and I can't imagine the average kid being interested in administration or law from a young age. It just seems like an odd hyperfixation to have so many involved. She's also clearly a warrior and diplomacy is her weapon. I'd like to lean into the diplomatic Jedi archetype that the EU made for Leia, although Padme definitely isn't above getting her hands dirty and throwing a chair at someone when her words stop working.

I'd probably place her in a love triangle/throuple situation because I always thought that Obi-Wan suited her more. The romance in the prequels between her and Anakin seemed like it only happened because it had to happen rather than real chemistry, so I'd also try to do justice to their relationship.

Finally, Padme would disappear before anyone knew she was pregnant to protect the twins from their falling father. Darth Vader seemed genuinely surprised that he had a son, not that he was alive.

Anakin - The majority of my issues with Anakin is his behavior during his courtship of Padme. He was a walking red flag and while I know people ignore those all the time, he didn't come across as someone likeable...which he did in every other scene where he was allowed to be a Jedi warrior. His banter with Obi-Wan hinted at a deep friendship and his frustrations with the Jedi order/Council made sense even if they weren't articulated well. I think mostly I'd have to simply fix the execution of his flaws and insecurities.

I'd also close the age gap between him and the other two. Aside from the creepiness factor in his romance with Padme, the age discrepancy between Obi-wan and Anakin as apprentices/knights is kinda weird. Obi-Wan was supposed to be 25 in Phantom Menace. I get that he's going to be a mentor/old man later on in the series, but that seems really old to still be a padawan.

Obi-Wan - Nothing. You're perfect, baby. <3

(Except for the age thing.)

[antianakin]

hi, hope your holiday season is going well! i was rewatching the phantom menace and got to the very end where obi-wan talks with yoda about his determination: "i will train anakin. without the approval of the council if i must" and wondered what your interpretation of that was.

my first thought was that either there are cases when jedi can train someone even if the council disagrees, or obi-wan is willing to give up being a jedi.

the first scenario seems possible (?) given that qui-gon's solution to the council's refusal to train anakin was to say that he would take him as a padawan and that obi-wan was ready for the trials; the council's immediate response was less so about anakin, but about how the code forbids two padawans, and that they will judge obi-wan's readiness. perhaps that implies that there's some level of autonomy where the council can't interfere with master-padawan choices; but yoda does go on to say that anakin's fate will be decided later, so maybe they have the final say? if so, then why would obi-wan think it possible to train anakin without the council's approval?

the other choice would be what's often in alternative au fics: obi-wan leaves to train anakin. it's more straightforward, but as someone who strongly believes that the core of obi-wan's character is being a jedi, i wonder if he would ever truly decide to leave the order on his own volition. i don't think its in character for him to do so for his own happiness (which is why the satine line "if you said the word" doesn't hit for me). here, it is more plausible since it's specifically for qui-gon and his belief in anakin as the chosen one who must be trained. but that also makes me wonder if obi-wan places his promise to qui-gon on higher priority than his commitment to the jedi, and what that says about his character.

any thoughts? it's possible i'm sleep-deprived and overthinking, but you have a much broader grasp on the sw universe than me.

I imagine that there is a middle ground here to some degree of Obi-Wan being able to train Anakin (and not leave the Order himself) without Anakin technically being considered a Jedi PADAWAN.

In later years, post Order 66, status as a padawan is determined primarily by just whether you got trained by someone who considered themselves a Jedi. Ezra is a padawan because he was trained by Kanan, Luke is a padawan because he was trained by Obi-Wan and Yoda. But BEFORE Order 66, during the Republic era, status as a Jedi padawan does require you to be a member of the Jedi Order officially. This doesn't stop a Jedi from just training someone on their own if they choose to do so, but it means that the person they train theoretically isn't supposed to claim the title of Jedi (they COULD, obviously, this isn't something that would likely be super enforced, but if it got back to the actual Jedi Order, things could be sticky for them).

However, Qui-Gon's claim that he's just going to take Anakin as his padawan also seems to imply that it's entirely possible for Jedi to just... do that, to just pick up a random Force sensitive child and bring them in and say "This one's my padawan now" without needing to wait for official approval from the Council. It's also possible Qui-Gon is pushing the limits of what he's technically allowed to do in order to get his way, and that he's hoping the Council will just let Anakin in the Order as a normal Initiate so he doesn't HAVE to do this. You can probably interpret it a few different ways.

So I think that Obi-Wan is saying he'll do whatever it takes. He'll train Anakin while remaining a Jedi himself, or he'll leave the Jedi to train him, and whatever else he has to do to complete his promise. I don't know that it's a super specific threat, he's leaving it vague for a reason.

I also think that, much like Qui-Gon before him, he's not truly expecting to have to follow through with it. Both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon use this as an ultimatum to try to FORCE the Council to comply with their wishes in order to keep it from happening. They're both anticipating that the Council will fold and just make Anakin a member of the Order. Obviously by the time Obi-Wan makes his declaration, the Council's already decided to let Anakin into the Order anyway, Obi-Wan just doesn't know that yet.

I don't know that this is proof that Qui-Gon or Anakin were more important to Obi-Wan than his identity as a Jedi. The Jedi's first priority is supposed to be following the will of the Force, and Qui-Gon firmly believed that training Anakin was exactly that. Obi-Wan didn't really, but he's chosen to have faith in Qui-Gon's faith at this point. He's choosing to believe that Qui-Gon knew something he did not, so he's following the will of the Force by following Qui-Gon's will. I think, as far as Obi-Wan's concerned, he IS acting like a Jedi in this moment. It's perhaps not the Jedi he thought he'd be, but it's the Jedi he's committed to being now.

All that being said, I DO generally think it would be perfectly in character for Obi-Wan to leave the Order if he felt it necessary. It's been used twice now that I know of in officially licensed content: Jedi Apprentice by Jude Watson, and Padawan by Kiersten White (note that while Obi-Wan DOES fully leave the Order in JA, he doesn't actually officially do so in Padawan, but he does consider it pretty seriously for most of the book). In both stories, he doesn't leave for his own happiness, he leaves because he wants to stay on a particular planet in order to help some kids he's connected with and he's begun to doubt his place among the Jedi. By the end of the story, he generally has to realize that his desire to help these people is exactly why he DOES want to be a Jedi, because that's the path that will allow him to do that, and he chooses to commit to it more fully.

I think, at the end of TPM, Obi-Wan is in a place where he could absolutely feel like leaving the Order to train Anakin was the right thing to do if the Council makes it necessary. I don't know that he WANTS to, he'd RATHER be allowed to remain in the Order and train Anakin as a regular padawan, but he's chosen to believe that training Anakin is Important and so he'll do whatever it takes to accomplish that task, regardless of what that requires of him. Qui-Gon believed it was the will of the Force, and Obi-Wan made a promise. He WILL see it through. You could make a solid argument that no Jedi SHOULD see their identity as a Jedi as more important than doing the right thing, or following the will of the Force. The very concept of "being a Jedi" can become an attachment of its own, as we see with Anakin himself later. The reason he doesn't just leave the Order to marry Padme is because he can't let go of his desire to be a Jedi and what that means to him. Obi-Wan's willingness to let go of something that IS important to him is actually an example of a LACK of attachment rather than an indication of an attachment to either Qui-Gon or Anakin. I think most true Jedi would be willing to set that identity down if they absolutely had to.

Obviously Obi-Wan's motivations in this moment are somewhat complicated, his love and his grief for Qui-Gon ARE mixed in there, but I also genuinely believe that this is an important moment of GROWTH for Obi-Wan. His willingness to lay aside his identity as a Jedi in order to do something that Qui-Gon believed was the will of the Force IS a step forward for Obi-Wan towards that ultimate Jedi we know he becomes.

I think it's important to remember that Obi-Wan is, for the most part, a work in progress throughout the Prequels. By the end of TPM, he ISN'T the wise old Jedi Master that we know he'll become. He's still learning, still working on the skills that will allow him to grow into that person. So his statement that he'd be willing to leave the Order if it comes to it is both a moment of growth and an indicator that perhaps Obi-Wan is still GROWING. An important part of who Obi-Wan becomes is that he ultimately chooses to refuse to let go of being a Jedi, even in the darkest of circumstances, even when he's lost everything. So much as this is a step towards Obi-Wan learning to put his faith in the Force, it's also an indicator that this Obi-Wan ISN'T the one we meet on Tatooine in ANH yet, too.

Obi-Wan IS the Ultimate Jedi in so many ways, and being a Jedi IS important to him in-universe, but I don't think that his willingness to leave it if he had to in order to train Anakin is an indicator that it's not as important to him as Qui-Gon or Anakin.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

I Know the End | Vol. 4

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.

Somehow…

You walked up the hill to your favorite spot, chest heavy with emotion. You set your bag against a rock, Rey and Soren running the course out in the trees. You should have been there with them. Or, at the very least, out there with Poe. But there was nothing you could do about that now.

BB-8 rolled over, beeping up at you inquisitively.

“He leave you here to check on me?” You asked.

He nodded his little head adorably.

“Well that was sweet of him.” You said, kneeling down to pat the top of his head. “Thank you for checking in. I’m gonna meditate up here for a while, if you want to go shadow Soren or Rey.”

He beeped, nodding, telling you he’d go follow Rey for a bit. You watched as he rolled along, his orange and white little head ducking through a patch of brush.

You sat on the rock, legs crossed. You closed your eyes, the Force’s call loud this time. All-consuming. The sounds of Ajan Kloss swept quickly away, and silence swallowing you instead. Darkness.

You breathed, forcing your lungs to take in the air, to let it out. You listened. You waited.

First, you saw Kylo, searching for something. His energy was frazzled. Desperate. He was conflicted, that much was clear. Maybe Rey was right. Maybe he wasn’t completely gone. For Leia’s sake, you hoped that was true.

You let the breath out, taking another, pushing your mind elsewhere. Deeper. You carefully skirted around Maddox, but landed in the First Order, in the mind of one of the Generals, thinking about their new fleet. He was talking to some of the other officers, arranging things, moving this fleet, starting their operation. You got chills and pulled away, slipping out unnoticed before he could catch a whiff of you poking around.

Moving to something lighter, you watched Rey and Soren, running the training course, BB-8 rolling along behind her. Soren deflected hits with ease, jumping from tree to tree. Rey was…having some difficulty, though. She’d been in her head a lot lately, like you, but it was different for her. She and Kylo were still connected. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like, to be linked to someone like him, through the Force no less. No matter where she went, she took him with her, whether she liked it or not.

You exhaled, breath leaving your mouth in what felt like puffs of steam, fogging up like it had on Hoth. You heard a wicked laugh. A familiar one. Utter darkness. Dark enough to swallow you whole. The hairs on your arms stood straight, goosebumps pricking up. It pulled you. It called. Like a lullaby, but…wrong.

No. No, not that.

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the feeling, the ice water trickling down your spine. It was empty for a long time, flashes of things fleeting across your mind, but not staying long.

A battle. Lightsabers clashing. Blasters firing. Stormtroopers. A fleet of Star Destroyers against a storming sky. The Millenium Falcon. A desert. A knife. A kiss.

Your heart raced, mind guided forcibly by the hand until you emerged from the trees in your mind. Poe and Finn had landed, Poe walking quickly out of the Falcon, which was engulfed in flames.

“It’s on fire. Whole thing’s on fire! All of it–! Fire!” He waved a hand behind him, focusing on Rey. “Really could have…used your help out there!” 

“How’d it go?”

“Really bad, actually! Really bad!”

“Han’s ship!”

“What did you do to the droid?”

“What’d you do to the Falcon?”

“Falcon’s in a lot better shape than he is!”

“BB-8’s not on fire!”

“What’s left of him isn’t on fire!”

“You know what you are?”

Poe grinned, annoyed. “What?”

“You’re difficult. You’re a difficult man.”

“You…you are…” He grunted.

“They’re back, Aunt (Y/N).” Soren said, stirring you from your vision. It occurred to you then that it wasn’t a vision. You’d caught up to the present. How…how long had you been meditating.

The sun was definitely lower in the sky when you opened your eyes. It had been hours. It had only felt like minutes. Something about that place you’d been, that dark, cold void, had just sucked the time away.

“Oh. Shit. Alright.” You touched down, feet making contact with the ground once more. You walked with Soren through the trees, to where Poe and Rey were arguing, through the dialogue you’d just heard. You glanced down at BB-8. Sure enough, something had happened while you were near-unconscious, floating in the air. One of Bee’s panels had been knocked clean off.

Poe knelt down beside him, face in his hands. He looked unharmed. A wave of relief washed over you, the sight of him melting away your stress. He hadn’t noticed you standing there yet.

Chewie roared, arms in the air. Poe had lightspeed skipped the Falcon.

“You lightspeed skipped?!” Rey asked.

“Yeah, well, it got us back here, didn’t it?”

“Poe, the compressor’s down!”

“Oh, I know! I was there!”

“You can’t lightspeed skip the Falcon!”

“Actually, turns out, you can!” Poe shouted.

“Alright, guys, we just landed, okay?” Finn said, trying to to keep the peace.

They went back and forth for a little longer. Poe and Finn confirmed there had been a spy that they got information from, a First Order operative who was now feeding the Resistance information.

BB-8 told Poe what had happened. “You dropped a tree on him?”

“You blew both sub-alternators?!”

They bickered back and forth some more and Poe finally caught your eyes. “Yeah, but you’re not. You’re here training. For what?! You’re the best fighters we have. We need you. Out there, not here.”

“Poe…” Your heart raced, a lump in your throat. It was your fault. You should have gone with him when he asked.

“Baby…” He shook his head, waving his hands as though he could dispel his anger with a single flourish. He exhaled, looking tired. “Maybe you were right. We could have used a Jedi out there…” Poe bit his lip, thinking before he spoke, before he made that sad look in your eyes worse. “I’m gonna hit the fresher. We’ll talk after.”

“Alright.” You nodded, watching as he went, firing some orders on the way there, making sure the files got properly decoded in the meantime.

BB-8 looked up at you, beeping sadly.

“No, it’s okay. Poe and I are fine.” You reassured him. “Let’s get you fixed up, alright?”

He nodded his head, following you along to the workshop. You hauled him up onto one of the empty stations near the entrance, pulling out the necessary tools, a spare panel to replace the one that had fallen off, and you set to work, fixing him up with a screwdriver, using the Force to make sure everything was tight, fit in place. You had a pair of goggles on your face, to help with the smaller details, giving you the zoom you needed to see them.

You pulled out the paint next, the shade of orange that matched the rest of him, and gingerly began painting the panel until it matched.

“How do you know how to do that?” Poe’s voice was low, rolling at the back of his throat. You turned to find him standing in the workshop’s doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

“I had a droid. Did repairs on her when the mechs were too busy.” You replied, brush strokes gently filling in the color, careful not to deviate from the crisp lines.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Didn’t know that.”

“Mmhmm.” You shrugged, finishing up and tucking the tools back into their places. You used a small fan to dry the top coat faster. You knew BB-8, knew he’d be racing as soon as you set him down, smearing the fresh paint throughout base.

“What happened to her?”

“I’m…I don’t know. It’s been thirty years and I haven’t seen her roaming around. Artoo never mentioned her, and I haven’t brought it up. She…might have gotten scrapped or destroyed…”

BB-8 asked if it was dry yet, sounding impatient.

You laughed, reaching out a tentative finger to check, and sure enough, it was. “Looks like you’re good to go. Here, let’s get you back on the ground.” You picked up the heavy droid, Poe helping to lower him to the ground. “How do you feel? Everything fit right? Everything’s in the right spot?”

He gave a cursory roll around the workshop, whirring excitedly, complimenting your work.

You sat back on the workbench, looking up at Poe, his hair still damp from the fresher. He looked clean, but still tired. You could feel how he was frayed at the edges. You reached up to touch his cheek, dark and dusted with more stubble than usual. It made him look older.

“You’re giving me that look.”

“What look?” You asked, eyes sparkling innocently.

“That look you get when you’re thinking too much.”

“Yeah, well, excuse me for being worried about my boyfriend.” You chuckled as he took a step closer, slotting himself between your legs and pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “He is a pilot, after all, it’s a pretty dangerous gig.”

He wrapped his arms around your figure, exhaling deeply. You inhaled the scent of him. That soap that smelled like fresh rain. You could have drowned in it, you were sure. In him.

“You smell good.” You murmured, smiling when he chuckled against you.

“You like that, huh?”

“Mmhmm.” You pulled him closer, tears welling in your eyes, that lump returning to your throat “I should have been there, Poe. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine. We all are. I just…It’s hard for me to wrap my head around sometimes, this Jedi stuff. But it’s important, too.”

You pressed a long kiss to his cheek. He turned his head, catching your lips instead, arms holding you close. You stayed like that for a long moment until you heard someone clear their throat in the doorway.

“Hey, uh, they just about got those files decrypted. Leia’s calling a meeting in an hour. Wants to talk to both of you first.” Snap said.

“Thanks, buddy. We’ll head that way.” Poe said with a smile. He offered his hand and you took it gladly, fingers threaded together. He gave your hand a squeeze. You walked through base together, drawing a few pairs of eyes, but you didn’t care anymore. BB-8 rolled on ahead, greeting the other droids as everyone gathered.

Your heart raced, stomach sinking when you saw the look on Leia’s face. You couldn’t place it yet, what was wrong. But the feeling alone was enough to tell you it was bad. Nearly unspeakable. Like that deep, dark void you had seen, icewater chilling in your veins. 

You tensed, wings flaring, eyes widening as you realized.

“Hey.” Poe squeezed your hand, sensing the way you froze. “What’s…?”

She didn’t even have to say it. You already knew.

“Palpatine.”

***

“Artoo decrypted the files from the First Order spy and…it confirms the worst.” Poe began, the entire Resistance packed into the hangar, circled up to listen. 

You sat on a crate at the edge of the circle, shoulders hunched, wings drooping, pain etched deep into your eyes. It was like your soul had been crushed to a fine powder, sprinkled across the galaxy. Thirty years earlier, you’d given your life to stop Insidia from reviving Palpatine. And it was all for nothing. The attack on Mariposas, your decades in cryosleep. It was meaningless now. You’d given up your life, your friends, all of it to protect a future that hadn’t come to pass. He’d been there, pulling the strings the whole time, manipulating Kylo, creating the First Order…

Poe let out a broken sigh, eyes lingering on your hunched figure before delivering the news. “Somehow, Palpatine returned.”

The Resistance murmured, trying to figure out exactly how it had happened. Was it dark cloning? Sith magic? You wanted to pipe up, tell them exactly how. Cultists, led by Insidia, then your own brother, feeding him Force users until he’d reached his full strength again. Or, full enough. You doubted he was already at his full strength. If he was…it would be worse.

No wonder the Jedi were no more. They’d all been drained to nothing to revive the man who’d ruined your life and nearly destroyed the galaxy.

Poe continued to explain the situation, the fleet forming on Exegol, the Sith planet. The Final Order.

You wanted to collapse. Wanted to lay down, wanted to scream, wanted to let it all out in a blinding wave of Force energy, but you couldn’t. Couldn’t move. Paralyzed by the encroaching sense of doom. Dark and all-consuming.

“Princess, are you alright?” One of the guys in intel asked once the meeting was disbanded. Beaumont. He was nice, had kind eyes, a gentle smile. He’d been a teacher before he left for the Resistance.

You nodded, forcing yourself to perk up, straightening out your posture. Right. There were people watching. Always were. And if you didn’t have hope, how were they expected to? “Fine. I’m fine. Just…thinking. Trying to…wrap my head around all of this.”

Rey came walking back towards the group with one of Luke’s journals, one you hadn’t touched yet. She flipped through the pages, holding it up to show you. “Luke was trying to find Exegol. After the attack on Mariposas. Nearly found it, too, but his trail went cold on Pasaana tracking down a Sith Wayfinder. We could go. The two of us. Finish this.”

She meant it. You could see it in her eyes. That spark. Just you and her, leaving to finish what you and Luke had started. To put an end to the madness once and for all. Poe and Finn could stay behind, make a plan for the final fight, figure out how to destroy the fleet before they set out on their attack of the galaxy.

And no matter what happened, the fate of the Jedi would be safe in Soren’s hands. In Finn’s.

It seemed dangerous, but…it had to be done. The clock was already ticking, and you were running out of time.

You grabbed a bag, heading towards the Falcon with Rey.

“What, were you even going to say goodbye?” Poe asked, causing you to freeze in place, turning to face him. “Or were you just gonna pull outta here with the compressor still smoking?”

“I had a feeling you might not take it so well.”

“Yeah, well you were right. We’re coming with you.” Poe said, touching your arm on the way into the Falcon with Chewie. Finn was right behind him.

“It’s too dangerous. We’re meant to do this.” Rey said, trying to reason with them, but you could tell they were set on it.

“And we’re meant to go with you.” Finn said. “You’re not going without us. But I’ll let you argue with him about it if you want.” He motioned to Poe.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. That wasn’t an argument you would win.

“Repairs will be done tomorrow morning. We’re going with you.” Poe said, coming back out of the ship. He brushed the hair out of your face, eyes full of love and determination. “End of story.”

“What if they need you here?”

“What if you need me there?” He countered, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s been a while since we’ve been on a mission together. I can’t wait to see what you can do now, with all that training, your Highness.”

“Poe.”

“(Y/N).”

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes. “What if something happens to you?”

“What if something happens to you and I’m not there?” He asked. It had been weighing on him. He tilted his head, sincerity in his voice. “I’d rather die, with you, helping you, knowing I made a difference, then letting you face this alone. We’re finishing this. Together. Whether I make it to the end or not.”

“Poe–”

“You told me you didn’t expect to survive the Rebellion. You were willing to die for the cause. Isn’t this the same?”

You stared at him for a long moment, searching his eyes, his feelings, that warmth in his chest steadfast and strong. It wasn’t the same. Not anymore. Not for you. You were willing to die, sure, but…that little life you’d seen, his graying hair, his wizened face, his reading glasses…

The wedding ring…

In all your visions of it, you’d never seen yourself there. Just him. You didn’t want to risk that. His future, whether or not you were in it.

“Baby, you can fight with me all night about it, alright? I’m going. So’s Finn.” He said, tone still tense. Still…fighting. He was always a fighter, you’d known that from the start. You just never expected him to be fighting you.

***

The crew had a bonfire that night. Word had spread. Your top secret mission wasn’t so secret anymore. People were scrambling to figure out what they’d do with all of you gone. And with three of the four Jedi leaving, Soren made it his mission to stay. To help around the base. To be the resident Jedi in your stead.

Your legacy.

You and Laesynda had one last, final talk. She wished you all the luck in the galaxy, prayed you’d come back this time. That it wouldn’t be another thirty years before she got to see her sister again.

You stared into the flames, arms crossed, thinking about all of it. The gathering was devoid of its usual chatter, joking banter between the Resistance fighters. Things were bleak. If it didn’t go well, if Palpatine couldn’t be stopped…this night could very well be one of your last. All of you. The First Order would snuff out the Resistance like a birthday candle.

Poe sat beside you, quiet. He didn’t want to argue any more, but couldn’t stomach the look in your eye. The worry. He wondered what all you’d seen, the things you weren’t sharing with him. He ran a hand down his face, letting out a long sigh.

Why did dating a Jedi have to be so kriffin’ complicated…

Budding in his chest, he felt something, a somewhat familiar sensation. He’d felt it only once before. And when he looked up, sure enough, Luke Skywalker’s Force Ghost was standing at the edge of the woods, meeting his eyes this time.

Poe blinked, staring at him. He pointed at his chest, as if to ask “who, me?” The Jedi of legend shook his head, motioning to you. Ah, right. That made sense. Obviously he was there to see you.

Poe nudged you, pulling you from your thoughts, hand tight around yours as the light of the fire danced around your face. “Hey, uhhh…”

You looked over at him, anxious to hear what he had to say now that he was finally ready to talk. Instead, he tilted his head towards Luke, who stood there, a sullen look in his eyes.

You chuckled softly. “Oh. Okay. I’ll be back soon.” You squeezed his hand, pressing a long kiss to his cheek, as if to reassure him of something. You knew it had to be weird for him, the ghost of your dead ex-boyfriend coming around for a chat.

Poe nodded, watching as you walked off with him. He took a long sip of his beer.

“I was wondering if you’d show up to see me off.” You murmured, meeting him face to face once more. It felt right, seeing him before the end.

“Leia said I should give this to you myself. I heard you’d been looking for one, Jedi Master.” Luke held up a saber, his second. The green one. You’d wondered what had happened to it, but had never had the time to investigate that yourself. You didn’t even know where to start looking, to be honest.

You nodded. “For Finn. Thank you.”

“Three Padawans. They’re all doing well under your instruction. I…well, I’m really proud of you, you know. You’re really doing it. You’re fostering a new generation of Jedi.”

“Trying to. It would be…well, it would be easier with you here.” You said softly, daring to meet his eyes, to imagine the life where you got to stay. Where you and Luke started the Jedi again, together. Where Kylo never turned to the dark side and the First Order never rose to power.

It would have been nice. Growing old with him. Living that dream. But it was only ever that. A dream. Never had it ever been real to you, even when you begged the Force for it to be so.

“I know. I’m sorry, Princess. But, for what it’s worth, I think it’s gonna work out.”

“You do?”

“I do. You and that pilot of yours are good together. He’s…determined. A fighter. One hell of a pilot. And you can tell him I said that. He’s pretending not to look over here right now, looking out of the corner of his eye. Checking on you.”

“Sounds like Poe.” You chuckled. “Did you know about…him? Us?”

“It might have crossed my mind a few times.” Luke admitted, rubbing at his ghostly beard. “I knew you’d be okay, regardless. That you had someone like him to help you pick up the pieces.”

You nodded, reminiscing softly on your relationship. On both relationships.

Luke met your eyes. He closed them, and his form shifted, back to his younger self. The Luke Skywalker you had loved. The Luke you had fought alongside, who’d been your everything. Your partner, your fellow Jedi, your best friend. You didn’t fight him this time, let him keep the form. You knew you needed to hear these words from your Luke.

“We started this path. You and I. Together. You and Rey are going to finish it. I can’t see how it ends, no one can, but the Force will guide you. And I’ll be right there, by your side.” He reached for you and you stepped forward, hugging him, his form solidifying in your hold, arms tight around you.

You closed your eyes, letting out a long breath.

“I always loved you, you know.” Luke confessed.

“I know. I loved you, too.” You replied, pulling away to look at that youthful face one last time. Your former lover. Your friend. “Thank you. For everything, Luke.”

And then he was gone, fading right before your eyes until you were left there with the open air, a cold lightsaber hilt in your hand.

You turned back to the bonfire, making a beeline for Finn, who was leaned against a tree, trying to convince Rose to go with you guys the following day. She wasn’t having it.

“Finn, I, uh, got you a present.” You said.

“For me?” He asked, curiosity glimmering in his warm gaze. His smile dropped when he saw it, though, gripped in your hand. Luke Skywalker’s missing saber. His heart raced. “That’s not…”

“It is.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. You’re ready for it. If you’re coming with us tomorrow, you’re taking this saber.” You insisted, handing it to him and curling his fingers around it, forcing him to take it. “That’s my one condition.”

“What’s your condition for Poe?”

You grinned, rolling your eyes. “His rugged good looks are getting him on that mission, I’m afraid. I couldn’t say no to that face.”

Finn laughed at that. “So it’s really happening. We’re going.”

“We’re going. I…I’m kind of glad, actually. It’ll be nice to have you two along for the ride. One…last adventure. All of us together.”

Finn opened his arms, hugging you tightly. You rested your face against his strong chest, relishing the warmth, the moment between you. Teacher and student, but more importantly, friends. “Thank you. For this. For believing in me.”

“No, thank you. We’re gonna need all the Jedi we can get…”

You returned to Poe after, his eyes watching you for a long moment. You sat down on the log, side pressed to his. He wrapped an arm around you, resting his head against yours.

“Are we still not talking?” He dared to ask.

You chuckled a little. “I’m coming around on the idea.”

“Of what, talking to your boyfriend, or letting him come on your dangerous, galaxy-saving mission tomorrow?”

“Perhaps both.” You let out a breath. “Just had a conversation with my ex. He said he thinks we’re good together. He gave me his saber, to give to Finn.”

“The green one.”

“The green one.” You agreed.

“Mmm.” Poe nodded, turning his head to press a long kiss to your hairline, a hand ghosting over the crest of your wings. “Well, he and I will have to agree on that. I also think we’re pretty good together.”

You laughed. “Well, I’d hope so, at this point. He also said you’re one hell of a pilot. So there’s that.”

His eyes widened. “Luke Skywalker just told you he thinks I’m a good pilot.”

“He did, yeah.” You chuckled, kissing his cheek. “Anyone with eyes knows that, Poe. I happen to think you’re the best, but…I might be a little biased.”

You could feel it then, sitting right at the tip of his tongue. The L word. You knew he wanted to say it. Knew he’d practiced. Knew he was holding onto it for just the right moment. You could feel it there, lingering, hovering unsaid. Like all those times he’d dreamed of kissing you before you finally collided.

You turned your face, pulling him in for a long, sweet kiss, meeting his gaze, peering straight into his soul, he was sure. Sometimes, when you looked at him like that, it was like you were looking straight through him, at every thought floating around his mind.

You nodded, thumb grazing over the spot just beneath that little scar on his cheekbone. “I know.”

Your Dying Decree

In the morning, you woke in Poe’s arms. He was still sleeping, head tucked into the crook of your neck, curls tousled, tickling your skin. His breaths were long and slow, eyes closed, thick eyelashes resting against those pretty cheekbones.

He was so handsome, your pilot.

And yet, looking at him, you couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to slip out now, leave him where it was safe. Well, relatively safer. There was no safe place in the galaxy for members of the Resistance now.

His arms curled tighter around you and he hummed, those warm brown eyes opening.

He chuckled, searching your face. “I kinda thought you’d be gone by now.”

“I thought about it.” You admitted, voice no more than a whisper.

“I know you did.” He smirked, peppering kisses up your neck, trailing to your lips, where he hovered for a moment, eyes soft, like he was memorizing every detail, just like this. “Just can’t get enough of me, huh?”

You giggled, rolling your eyes before pulling him into a kiss. “That and I knew you’d never forgive me if I left without you.”

Poe nuzzled his nose to yours, kissing your lips one last time before sitting up out of the bed, getting dressed. Your fingers hovered over the options at your disposal before settling on a black tunic, black pants. You were pulling a page from Luke’s book.

You carefully slipped your wings through the opening, securing everything in place and then pulling on your belts, equipping your saber. You braided the front of your hair back, out of the way, and then turned to find Poe staring, eyes raking down your form. He smiled to himself, then met your gaze, stepping forward to collect you in his arms.

“Looking very regal today, Princess.”

“Looking very…piratey today, pilot.” You said, smoothing your hands over the fabric of that shirt of his. Your fingers trailed down the buttons, or lack thereof. “So did it come like this or did you take them off yourself?”

He laughed loudly, cheeks reddening. “What, you don’t like it?”

“No, I never said that.” You said, a hand raising to his cheek. “You’re avoiding the question, Dameron.”

“They might have fallen off at some point, yeah.”

“Was a pair of scissors involved?”

He chuckled. “Alright, I can throw on a scarf if you’re so worried about it.”

“You might need one anyway, we are headed to the desert.” You told him, tucking a curl behind his ear.

The two of you gathered your things and walked out of the room, meeting Rey and Finn in the hallway, all dressed as well. You gave the two of them a nervous smile. The four of you met with Chewie, Threepio, and BB-8 in the hangar. Leia was standing there, a wistful look on her face. She could tell it was coming, the end. You were sure it brought back memories, sending the four of you off like this.

You walked over her, hugging her one last time. Her arms wrapped around you tight, a hand cradling your head. Your best friend. Your sister. Your General.

“May the Force be with You, Princess.” She said, eyes twinkling.

“And with us all.” You replied, tears pricking in your eyes. 

You turned, joining the others in the Falcon. You walked into the cockpit. Chewie and Poe were hovering over the controls. Finn sitting behind Chewie. You settled into the seat behind Poe, putting a hand on his shoulder. He reached up to touch it, acknowledging your presence with warmth before getting back to the controls. Rey stood in the doorway, reaching for your hand. You gave it to her.

Chewie looked at you, roaring softly, melancholy on his voice.

“You’re right, Chewie. Just like old times.”

***

You landed on Pasaana hours later, Poe putting the Falcon down at the edge of a settlement. No, you realized. A festival. Threepio confirmed this as the six of you rounded the corner. 

“Isn’t this lucky?” Threepio asked.

“Incredibly lucky.” Poe replied, voice dry. “Keep your heads down. Chewie. First Order is always running random patrols. Let’s split up. See what the locals know.”

The group split, speaking with some of the locals who were gathered for the festival of ancestors, wearing bright, silken garments. Rey stopped to talk to a little girl, aided by Threepio to translate. After, you saw her go stiff, standing straight, eyes glazed over. You knew what that meant. Kylo was in her head.

“You find anything?” Poe asked, touching your arm.

You shook your head, motioning to Rey. “That’s not good.”

“Mmm, alright. Let’s–”

“I found the fugitives! They’re here!” A Stormtrooper announced, words warbled through a helmet.

Poe reached for his blaster. He looked to Chewie and Finn. “We gotta go.”

You grabbed Rey and the group moved quickly through the crowd, tailed by the Stormtrooper until a man in a large helmet shot him straight through the eye, ushering you into a small transport. You eyed him up, his energy familiar, but it didn’t quite click until you were all inside just who he was.

“How did you find us?” Finn asked, looking at him.

He took off his helmet and you grinned. You should have known. He always had a habit of popping up right when you needed him most. It was Lando. “Wookies stand out in a crowd.”

Chewie roared happily and hugged him.

“It’s good to see you too, pal.” He nodded at you. “Your Highness. Back in the field?”

“It’s like I never left. What are you doing here?”

“Thought you might need some help. I traveled here with Luke, trying to find Exegol. Trying to find other things, too…” Lando’s eyes wandered to the gleaming medallion around Poe’s neck.

Oh. Figured.

Lando told you about Ochi, how he and Luke had tailed his ship to Pasaana. On the horizon, you could hear that fateful sound. TIE fighters. A lot of them.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” Lando said, peeking through the blinds. “Ochi’s ship is out past Lurch Canyon. Go.”

“Thank you, General.” Poe said, Chewie bidding him goodbye after.

“Thank you, Lando.” You said, touching his arm, meeting his eyes.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

You all stepped out of the ship, running through the sand. Poe led the way to some speeders, looking a little worse for wear. You watched as he popped a panel off, reaching into the wires, twisting them with skill, precision. 

Hot-wiring, you realized. Your boyfriend was hot-wiring a speeder.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that.” You noted.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Princess.” He glanced up, a few scout troopers rounding the corner. “We gotta go!”

You flitted your wings, hopping up onto one of the speeders, settling in beside Poe and Finn, Rey and Chewie on the other. Poe steered with grace, guiding it across the desert planet as a pair of Trooper speeders trailed.

You used your saber to deflect their shots. Two of the troopers launched into the air, flying on jetpacks.

“They fly now?!” Finn asked.

Poe turned his attention ahead, determination on his brow. “They fly now!” Poe steered into a narrow valley, losing sight of them behind you. “We lose ‘em?!”

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head. Soon enough, one of them pulled ahead of you, cutting you off.

“Time to use that training, baby.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” You reached out, using the force to push hurl the Stormtrooper speeder straight into the rock in front of it, where it exploded in a burst of flame.

Finn and Poe cheered and you pulled out of the valley, meeting back up with Rey and hers. One of the troopers in the sky reemerged, shooting the engine of Rey’s speeder, causing it to explode, sending her and Chewie and BB-8 into the air. The speeder the rest of you were on went next, throwing all of you into the sand. You used the Force to cushion the landing as best as you could and you all shot at the trooper until you took out his jetpack, sending him crashing down into one of the jagged mountains.

It was only after that you seemed to notice you were slipping into a pool of pebbles. Perfectly round. A sinking field.

Poe had landed flat on his back, struggling in them, trying to swim out. “The hell is this?”

“Sinking fields! Grab onto something!”

You were up to your hips in it. You reached for Poe, watching in horror as he slipped lower and lower. “Poe? Poe!”

“(Y/N)! I love–!” His curls slipped beneath the pebbles, words swallowed up as he went under.

“Rey! Rey, I never told you–” Finn shouted, slipping under next.

You let out a cry, struggling for a few moments before surrendering to the pull, and descending down with the rest of them.

It was dark, the pebbles shifting around your body, encasing every bit of you until your legs found open air beneath you. You kicked, struggling as your body moved through, head still enveloped in total darkness. You could hear Poe’s voice beneath you, then felt his hand on your leg, arms wrapping around you as you fell into what seemed to be a cave.

He met your eyes, brushing dirt out of your face. “You alright?”

“Fine. Where are the others?”

Chewie fell beside you. Finn walked out from a cavern, and Rey walked from another, everyone accounted for, even the droids.

You shook out your wings, pebbles cascading onto the stone floors. You touched your saber, making sure it was still there, hadn’t been lost on the way down.

“Where are we?”

“In a cave of some kind.” Threepio explained.

“I thought we were goners.” Finn said, voice filled with relief.

“Me too,” Poe confessed, giving you a very loaded look, eyes searching yours, as if asking if you’d heard what he’d said before going under. 

You had. His last words to you would have been a confession of his love. Your heart broke even thinking about it. You reached for his hand, squeezing it. He squeezed back, letting out a long breath. You were okay. You both were.

“What is this place?” Rey asked. The group started poking around. Rey ignited her saber, you, yours. Poe lit his flashlight, which paled in comparison. Eventually, you found Ochi’s speeder, a bad sign. With it, Ochi’s remains.

He’d never gotten out of the cave. He’d died there, and Luke’s quest for Exegol with him.

On the ground, you spotted a knife. The energy from it was…horrible. Dark. 

You held your saber out to Poe. “Can you hold this?”

“Uhhhh, sure.” He replied, bathed in the pink light of its blade. He gingerly took the hilt of it, not daring to move it a single inch. He’d never touched a lightsaber before. Well, aside from helping you build it, of course. But holding it while it was activated was different. It felt…forbidden, almost.

You bent down and picked up the dagger, studying it. Sith Runes. Figured. It…felt like it was burning your hand. The longer you held it, the worse you felt. You tried to read it, tried to garner where it was from, what it would do, but it hurt. Badly.

You let out a pained yell and dropped it, clutching your hand like you’d been physically burned.

“Are you okay?” Rey asked with concern.

“That thing…” You pointed to the dagger. “Is made of evil. It…wow, holy fuck.”

Poe stared at you, watching as you recovered, still holding your lightsaber like it was a bomb. 

You chuckled a little, reaching for it. “Thank you. Give me that, flyboy.” You powered it down, clipping it to your belt.

He reached out and touched your arm, eyes searching your face for any signs of damage. You gave him a warm look, touching his hand.

“They are Sith Runes. I believe they are directions to the location of the Sith Wayfinder.” Threepio reported.

“Great. Where is it?” Poe asked.

“I am forbidden from translating it, I’m afraid. The Republic outlawed all Sith languages nearly a century ago. To do so would be against my programming.”

“So you know where it is, you just can’t tell us?” Finn repeated, sounding as annoyed as you all felt.

“Precisely. My apologies, Master Finn.”

“Well that’s just great.” Poe sighed, hands on his hips. “What now?”

“We need to take it with us. Find somewhere to have it translated. Maybe the answer is on Ochi’s ship.” Rey reasoned.

You nodded, but didn’t reach for the dagger. Instead, Chewie picked it up, putting it in his messenger bag. He put a hand on your shoulder, a wordless message. He would carry it for you. Your loyal Wookie. Sometimes, you weren’t sure what you would do without him.

The group continued moving, trying to find a way out of the cave. Eventually, you came across a pile of rocks, layered in front of what appeared to be an opening. Focusing, you and Rey moved the pile out of the way, sunlight streaming through the hole you created. Once you were out, you headed up onto the bluff to Ochi’s ship. Poe managed to crack it open and led the rest of you inside.

It was very clearly abandoned. There were cobwebs clinging to nearly every surface, a thick layer of dust on every shelf, panel, and surface. You each picked a corner and started looking around for anything that could be of use. BB-8 made a discovery of his own, a small droid with a large wheel and a cone-shaped face, who, once booted up, started rolling around curiously. Rey reached out for him, but he backed away, seemingly traumatized by whoever had owned him before. Probably Ochi.

“What were you going to say before?” Rey asked Finn finally. You could tell it had been eating at her.

“What?”

“In the sinking fields. You said you’d never told me something.” She pushed, looking through the shelf beside him. “What was it?”

“We can talk later.” Finn said, dropping his voice, eyes serious and vulnerable.

“When we’re not here?” Poe asked with a chuckle.

“What, you wanna finish your dying decree right here, Poe?” Finn fired back.

“Not particularly.” He muttered, deflated.

You walked over and touched his arm, slotting beside him, searching for…well, anything, really. Anything you could use. He looked at you, eyes searching once more, looking for…well, anything. A reaction to what you’d heard.

You wanted to say it. Wanted him to, but you’d known from your conversations with the other pilots, the other ladies on base, that Poe Dameron didn’t say that word. Ever. He’d never said it to someone. Not like that, at least.He’d had his share of conquests, sure, but what the two of you had was decidedly different. It would have been his last dying breath, and you respected that. You didn’t want to force him out of it just because you hadn’t all died in that sinking field. But the fact that it was on the tip of his tongue, always seemed to be, meant that what you had between the two of you was real.

But then again, the only confirmation you needed of that was the band of braided leather around your wrist, the healer’s pendant from your home planet hanging from his neck.

Instead, you wrapped an arm around his waist, thumb rubbing a circle on his hip. You gave him a loving squeeze before refocusing on the task at hand.

Rey peered out the window, her eyes widening as she spotted Kylo’s TIE fighter, speeding across the sand. “He’s here.”

“You want me with you?” You asked, reaching for the hilt of your saber.

Rey nodded and you followed her out of the ship without another hesitation. You readied your blade, watching as Rey launched herself into the air, flipping as she sliced off one wing of his TIE, sending him into a death spiral, straight into the jagged rocks.

He climbed out of the ship’s wreckage and launched himself into a duel. He slashed at Rey with hatred. With rage. With…longing. Confusion, even. He was still conflicted, that much was clear. 

You joined the fight, covering Rey’s back. Red, Blue, and Pink clashed, sabers whumming, singing as they swung through the air, colliding again and again. Kylo started his usual banter, trying to get in Rey’s head. But then he turned to you, venom on his tongue, fire in his eyes.

“And you, the so-called princess of a long-gone planet. You slept through the destruction of your home planet, gave your life for a lost cause. Who are you to come here, acting to be the authority on this war, the state of the galaxy?”

“I’m nobody. I’m just a girl. But I know right from wrong. I can feel it, like she can. You know it, too. You’re fighting it so hard. Why? To prove yourself? You’re just like my brother and it’s pathetic.” You said, saber sparking against the unstable red of his. “You have a family who loves you. A mother who would die for you. She shouldn’t still believe in you, but she does.”

Something faltered in his gaze. He opened his mouth to fire back, “Luke Skywalker–”

“Failed me, too. He left me to sleep in a fucking pod for thirty years. You don’t see me picking up with the First Order to get revenge on the galaxy for it.” You thrust your saber forward, throwing him to the ground. 

Rey used the Force to push him back, through the sand.

“REY! They got Chewie!” Finn called, motioning frantically to a transport, taking off into the air. Rey reached forward, trying to stop the transport. You reached up to help her, but the two of you still weren’t enough.

“Finn, we need you!” You called, encouraging him to help.

Nodding, Finn reached for the transport, too, his power combining with the two of yours and bringing the transport down onto the ground, its engines bursting into flames, the metal crunching with a deafening screech.

You took off at a run, wings carrying you across the desert winds, towards the transport. The ramp lowered and a cluster of Stormtroopers and Scouttroopers came out, blasters blazing. You handled them quickly, learning almost instantly that Chewie was not there. In fact, the transport was empty.

“He’s not here!” You called, flying back up to Ochi’s ship as Rey and Finn ran up into the ramp. “There must have been another transport. He’s not here.” You reported, catching your breath, wings flicking a few times before folding down again.

“Fuck. Well, what now?” Poe asked, a hand trailing down his face.

“He had the knife.” Finn added, hands on his hips, deep in thought.

“He had the knife…” Poe repeated. “And they have the Falcon.”

“Well then we’re just gonna have to go get all three.” You said, the plan unrolling itself in your mind. “Get onto that Star Destroyer and get them all back.”

Poe nodded, mulling it over himself. “Alright. I’ll plot a course. Hang onto something.”

The Legacy of Your Downfall

Poe pulled Ochi’s ship into the hangar of the Star Destroyer, parking it with precision and skill, lowering the ramp. The four of you raced out, blasters pulled, shooting at the handful of Stormtroopers that approached.

“Where do we start?” Poe asked.

“This way.” You and Rey pointed at the same time, tuning into the things you were looking for with what could only be the force.

Rey turned back to look at the droids. “You three stay here.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Threepio said, sounding relieved. You ran ahead with the others, blasting your way through halls, sneaking past droves of patrolling troopers until finally, you felt like you were being pulled in different directions. The knife was one way, Chewie was the other.

“What’s that look for?” Poe asked, searching your expression.

You pointed both ways. “The knife is down this hall. Chewie is back that way.”

“Divide and conquer?” Finn suggested. “We’ll go get Chewie, you two go get the knife and our gear.”

You nodded, giving Poe one last lingering look. His hand ran down the length of your arm, touching you until the very last second as you went your separate ways. You and Rey raced down the hall, turning a corner and finding a stockroom, where they were keeping the knife, as well as all the gear and weapons they’d found on Chewie and any other prisoners they had.

Rey slung Chewie’s bandolier across her shoulder, tucked the knife into her belt. You gave the room one final sweep before leaving, heading back towards where you’d sent the boys. Rey lingered in the hall, her eyes landing on one door in particular. You knew it couldn’t be good.

“What?”

“There’s…something else.” She said, voice soft. She took a step closer to it, then another. The door slid open and inside was a stark white room. Kylo’s you realized, when your eyes fell on something you hadn’t seen in thirty years. Vader’s helmet. Or, what was left of it, rather.

A chill ran down your spine.

“Go meet with the others. I’ll find you.”

“Rey…I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Trust me. I…I know what I’m doing.” She said, desperation at the edge of her words. “I’ll keep him distracted. Buy us time.”

You weighed the odds for a moment before nodding. “Alright. But hurry.”

She handed you Chewie’s bandolier, the knife. You hissed, tucking it away before you felt those feelings again. You ran down the hall, stopped by the scorching shock of an electrified melee weapon. At first everything hurt, and then, all at once, everything went black.

***

You came to, leaned back horizontal, arms held in the thick metal bounds of an Imperial Interrogation Chair. You groaned. It wasn’t your first time in one. But you’d been hoping the last time would be the last time you ever had the pleasure.

“Perfect timing, Your Highness.” Maddox’s voice dripped with venom as another prisoner, this one conscious. “I’ve brought another guest to join us.”

“You fuckin’ monster, I’ll kill ya!” Poe threatened, yelling out in pain when one of the Stormtroopers escorting him zapped him again. They threw him onto a second chair, both of you strung up side by side.

“Should have known it would be you. Couldn’t finish the job on Hoth, huh? Had to have a Stormtrooper fetch me for you?” You chuckled, voice deep and rolling in the back of your throat, eyes half-lidded as you stared up at your husk of an older brother.

The darkness inside Maddox had been eating at him, literally. He looked awful. Eyes yellow and ringed with dark purple bags, deep wrinkles in his sagging skin. The tips of his fingers were inky black, and behind him were the tatters of his wings, the ones you had cut off with your saber.

He slapped you. “Quiet!”

“Don’t you dare–” Poe started, quieted by another jolt of electricity.

“You thought you could hide your precious pilot from me, didn’t you, Princess? Thought you could keep him tucked away in the corners of your mind where I couldn’t see?” Maddox chided, shaking his head. “It figures that the most important person in your life would be someone so weak. So vulnerable. So…human. I will show you precisely what I felt. I will rip your wings from your back with my bare hands. But first…”

Maddox leaned forward, eyes set on Poe, concentration gleaming in those wicked eyes. Poe stirred, eyes widening as he realized what was happening. He’d been through this once before. Force Torture. And he hadn’t been a fan.

You steeled yourself against the chair, taking a deep breath and focusing. You built a shield around Poe’s mind, around yours, imagined them hovering right in front of your foreheads, blocking out the mind probe that Maddox was using, attempting to break you. To…to kill Poe.

Maddox chuckled, amusement brimming behind his frustration. “You can’t possibly shield the two of you forever. Your resolve will weaken.”

You strained, shaking your head, jaw set on edge. “Nope. I can.”

He kept pushing. You kept blocking, an invisible duel between the two of you. Literally a mind game. Why he didn’t shock you then and there and force your hand, you weren’t sure. You could tell he wanted to win. He wanted the pride that came with beating you. He wanted the reassurance that he was stronger than you. That was what it had always been about to him.

“You’re…stronger than I thought, I will give you that.” He admitted, pushing harder.

You rose to meet him. “Trained by the best, unlike you. Even with me strapped to a fucking chair, you’re still second-best.”

A bubble of rage surged and you flinched, head thrown back against the chair. You let out a pained groan, struggling to keep up your wall.

“Baby…baby, it’s okay. I’m…I’m okay. You can let me go.” Poe said, watching as Maddox dug deeper, trying to break you.

You couldn’t talk anymore, the focus it required too much to allow even the tiniest slip. You shook your head, holding up your wall despite the way it grew heavier and heavier, like pushing a snowball up a hill.

“Kill me. Let her go.” Poe begged. “Please, just…”

You shook your head, letting out a broken, “NO!”

Maddox grimaced at the force of your yell, some pain forcing its way from you to him. He recovered quickly, continuing to push until finally, the door burst open. A blaster fired directly into Maddox’s stomach, catching him off guard. He collapsed to the floor and then slid, Finn using the Force to push him back, away from the two of you.

The weight was lifted and you let out a breath, head leaning back against the chair. Poe reached for your hand, fingertips coming just short of yours.

Finn raced over, unlocking them. As soon as you were upright, you just about collapsed into Poe’s arms, tears running down your cheeks. “Don’t you ever offer your life for mine again! Ever.”

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, head tucked into your neck, voice breaking at the ends. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I thought he was gonna kill you, baby. I…I couldn’t…”

“No, he was going to kill you. Make me watch. Then he was going to kill me.” You told him, reaching up to touch his face. You pulled him in for a tearful kiss. “I…Poe…”

“I know.” He nodded, nose resting against yours. “Are you okay? We gotta get out of here.”

“I have to do something first.” You said, rising to your feet. Your wings rose up behind you, emerging from their folded form, spread to their full wingspan, proud. You used the Force to pull your saber from the pedestal on the wall, where it had been placed by the troopers that apprehended you. You ignited it, walking towards Maddox’s collapsed form.

Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and he stared up at you with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Come to finish the job?”

“Something like that.” You said, staring at him with disdain. With mourning. Mourning the brother he could have been. The bond you could have shared. The person he could have grown to be. Instead, it was a monster at your feet. Cruel, wicked, heartless and hollow.

“You killed me thirty years ago, (Y/N), when you killed the love of my life.”

“Insidia?!” You asked, incredulous. “I knew you were power-hungry, I didn’t know you were insane.”

He laughed. “You’re one to talk. You could have anyone in the galaxy. Any number of powerful Force users with which to start a powerful legacy and you settle for the likes of a human pilot. Pathetic.”

“You think power is everything. You always have. You’ve never understood love. Insidia didn’t love you. She didn’t love anyone. She wanted power, just like you. Maybe you two really were a match made in hell.” You laughed bitterly, shaking your head and spinning your saber menacingly. “You killed our parents. You killed our healers. You destroyed our home. You tried to kill me. So many times. It’s over, Maddox, Mothim, whatever name it is you want etched into the legacy of your downfall.”

“It will never be over. Not for you, not for the Resistance, not for–” You plunged your saber into his chest, watching the light leave his eyes.

You deactivated the blade, clipping it to your belt. Your wings fell once more, folded down and out of the way. You felt Poe’s hand on your shoulder, all the eyes in the room on you.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” You said.

They nodded, all of you headed towards the hangar.

“How’d you guys get out of there?” Poe asked Finn and Chewbacca.

Chewbacca roared, informing him that General Hux had been the First Order spy all along, that he’d let them go.

“What?!” Poe replied with a laugh of disbelief, shooting at a few Stormtroopers as you passed them. “I knew it!”

“No you did not!” Finn replied.

You rounded the corner into the hangar, where the Millenium Falcon was waiting in all her glory. The droids had switched ships and you all ran up the ramp and inside as Stormtroopers began to gather. Soon you knew why. Kylo Ren was standing in the hangar, saber drawn.

“Rey?”

“I need to do this. Him and me. Go with the others.” Rey said, eyes meeting yours. “Go with Poe.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“I’m not asking you to.” She assured.

You felt that tug of war again. Between what she said and what you felt was right. You could feel the light in him, however faint it was. Maybe this was finally the time she could pull the light through. Save Ben Solo.

Finally, you surrendered, following Poe and Finn into the ship, buckling into the cockpit as Poe and Chewie piloted the thing, using the exhaust to blow back Stormtroopers while Finn operated the blaster cannon.

Through the window, you used the Force to collapse a few pillars onto the gathering army of troopers, watching carefully as Rey and Kylo dueled. 

A duel of the fates.

Finally, Rey got the upper hand. Poe swung the Falcon around and you ran down the ramp, reaching a hand out to her. She latched on, swinging around the ramp’s support beam and following you onto the ship.

Poe pulled the ship out of the planet’s atmosphere and into space, jumping through hyperdrive to a safe place where you all could regroup.

“What now? We don’t know where to go.” Finn said.

Your eyes wandered to Chewie, who once again was carrying the knife in his bag. You reached for him, for it. “Let me see it.”

“(Y/N), are you sure…” Poe said, hesitant to let you touch it after the way you’d reacted the last time, the pain it had put you in. It had already been a long, traumatic day. He didn’t want to push it.

“I’m fine.” You replied, exhaustion eating at every piece of you. “I almost had it last time, I think I can get there this time. Some of my…problems just got resolved.”

He relented, watching with guarded brown eyes as you took the knife from Chewbacca. You sat on a box, wings shifting out of the way, hand wrapped around the hilt of the misshapen dagger. You closed your eyes, taking a breath, focusing on what it was, where it had come from, where it was leading you…

You were running through the trees on Endor, wings tucked under a green poncho. Leia on one side, Han and the pathfinders ahead. Kes motioned you forward and you followed, running down the route. Ewoks ran alongside. You took out Scouttroopers as you ran.

Finally, you came up on a hill, looking overhead. In the sky, the shadow of a large moon. Not a moon, no, the Death Star, silver in the daylit sky. You stared at it for a long moment.

You took a shuddering breath, finding yourself back in the cargo hold of the Falcon, surrounded by your friends. You handed Chewie the knife back.

“It’s near Endor. Deathstar wreckage.” You said. “Get in contact with the intel guys and see if they can get us a more concrete answer, but…that wayfinder is definitely there.”

“I’ll send a message.” Finn nodded, walking towards your communications console.

“You good?” Poe asked, eyes not leaving you. He sat on the box beside you and you reached for his hand as Chewie and Rey wandered off to tend to their tasks. He took your hand, fingers curling around yours and squeezing.

“Better now.”

Poe let go of your hand, pulling you into his arms instead. He held you tight, but so, so carefully, strong arms curling around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder, pressing kisses to your neck.

“I saw your dad.” You confessed, hands tracing patterns onto his back.

“My dad?”

“My vision. I was on Endor. It was brief, but…” You chuckled at the irony of it all. Of knowing his parents, of loving him. 

Poe was your anchor to this time, the one redeeming thing your thirty-year skip had given you, the only thing that began to outweigh all of the things you had lost. This love, that look in his eye, the warmth that swirled between you every time you looked at each other, every time he held you in his arms…

Poe was worth it. And he never would have been yours if you’d stayed.

“What was he doing?”

“Pathfinding,” you said through a smile.

He pulled away to meet your eyes, a hand brushing down the side of your face, carefully touching the braid there before settling on your cheek. He pulled you in for a kiss, long and tender, lips moving in rhythm with your own.

Poe rested his forehead against yours, letting out a breath before confessing. “I still forget sometimes, that you’re older than me.”

“I’ve been told I look pretty good for fifty-four.” You laughed softly.

“Very good.” He agreed, kissing you again, hands slipping lower, to your hips, pulling you a little closer. “Very, very good.”

Poe readjusted, deepening the kiss before Finn cleared his throat in the doorway, staring at the two of you, still somewhat in shock that you were together, had been for a while, that you were familiar with each other like this. The two of you hastily pulled apart to look at him.

“Beaumont got a hit. (Y/N) was right. Moon in the Endor system, big chunks of Death Star scattered on its surface.” Finn reported, the two of you listening intently, Poe’s arm still hovering around your waist. “Oh, and Chewbacca said the landing gear is kinda fucked up.”

Poe stood from the box, helping you up after him. “How fucked up?”

Hold Your Fire

The landing had been rough, to say the least. You and Rey broke the fall as best you could, but using the Force on a ship was…much more difficult when you were inside said ship, headed down, down, down onto the surface of a moon in the Endor system.

The Falcon came to a skidding crash, sliding through the grass until finally, it stopped.

“Everyone okay?” Poe called, looking around, making sure no one had gotten thrown around too much. BB-8 gave him a thumbs-up with his lighter attachment.

The group started moving around the cabin, checking things. Poe read meters, checked controls. You and Rey managed to get the ramp down and you all started the hike up the hill, cresting over the top of it, towards the raging sea.

There it was, the Death Star. Or what remained of it, at the very least. You stared for a long moment, a feeling of darkness washing over you. Your eyes traced over the shape of the wreck and goosebumps pricked up all down your arms, though you weren’t sure if it was from the sight or the cold winds.

“Wow…” Rey murmured, looking up at it. “Were you ever…?”

“On it, no. Not that one. The first one, yeah. I was boots on the ground on Endor, so Luke and I could communicate with each other through the Force. Him up there, me down here.” You said.

Rey stared at the shape of the wreck, taking the dagger from her belt and sliding it along the silhouette. It lined up perfectly, a sliding gold ruler pointing to the exact spot. That was it. The spot where the wayfinder was hidden.

Horses galloped in the distance behind you. You all turned, weapons drawn. Poe held out his blaster as a group of scavengers rode their steeds towards you, stopping a safe distance away.

“Rough landing.” The woman leading the pack said. She had a head of gorgeous curls, a pair of goggles tucked along the top of her face, dressed all in silken green. Almost…Mariposan. Almost.

“I’ve seen worse.” Poe countered, a hand extended in front of you, protective, weapon still drawn.

“I’ve seen better.” She said. “Are you Resistance?”

“That depends.” Poe answered, untrusting.

Her eyes fell on you, gaze sliding down the length of your wings, and something in her gaze softened. “Princess…”

“You…know me?”

“Know of you. We received a transmission from some Resistance Scouts, that you were looking for this place. That you’re the last hope.”

“We need to get out to that wreck. There’s something inside there we need.” Rey told her.

“I can take you there by water.”

“You seen the water?” Finn asked.

“Not now. Too dangerous. We can go first light tomorrow.” The woman said.

“We need to go now. We don’t have the time.” Rey insisted.

“Or the choice.” Poe said, turning towards her and the rest of her crew. “Let’s get that ship fixed. Do you have any parts?”

“Some. I’m Jannah.”

“I’m Poe.” He introduced, leading the rest of you back towards the Falcon’s resting place.

Rey stared back at the wreckage, lingering.

You put a hand on her arm. “They’re right. We’re gonna need a way off this rock.”

She nodded, following reluctantly.

Once you got back inside the ship, Poe and the others started repairs, pulling open panels and reaching inside. He had a screwdriver held in his mouth while he worked. You noticed then, finally, that there was a wrap around his bicep. He stopped, holding his arm and hissing in pain.

“When did this happen?” You asked, eyes wide, pulling him away from his work.

“Got shot on the Star Destroyer. It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

“I know you have. Let me see.”

“We don’t have time.”

“Poe.” You said sternly. “It’ll only take me a second.”

He exhaled a breath, letting you pull him from the panel, passing the screwdriver to Chewie. You stepped into a hallway, pushing him onto a box, forcing him to sit. With careful fingers, you untied the scrap of fabric.

He winced, eyes locked on you and your gentle movements. “You should save your strength, Princess. You’ll need it.”

You shook your head, meeting his eyes as you rolled up his sleeve, the blaster hole singed into the fabric. “I need you at your best too, flyboy. I can tell it hurts.”

“You can feel it?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, hand hovering over the injury. “We’re connected, you and I. When you hurt, I hurt.”

“Through the Force? But I’m not…”

“You don’t have to be for me to…tune in. I’m always tuned into you, more or less. Have been for…” You chuckled. “A lot longer than we’ve been seeing each other, even.”

He smiled softly at that, eyes glimmering in the dim light. A teasing smirk took up residence on his soft lips, eyebrow quirked up at your admission. “Youuuu~ had a crush on me.”

“I did. I do, actually. Is that alright with you, Commander Dameron?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll let it slide, Your Highness,” he said, watching as you zoned out, taking a deep breath before pushing life energy from yourself to the blaster wound on his arm. The pain ebbed instantly, the wound fading away, replaced with new skin. He sighed, reaching for your hand, playing with your fingers in his. “You are…somethin’ else, you know that?”

“So you’ve said.” You grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips, a quick one. He leaned in after you pulled away, lips chasing yours. You smirked at him. “Who has the crush now?”

“Oh, Princess, I’ve always had a crush on you…” He murmured. Poe touched his arm, squeezing the spot clinically, but there was no pain there, just smooth skin in place of the gaping wound that had been causing him so much pain for the last few hours.

“Back to work?”

“Yeah.” Poe nodded, walking back over to the panel he’d been working on, where Chewie had all but wrapped it up.

BB-8 rolled up the ramp and into the ship, beeping at Poe, telling him he couldn’t find Rey.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen her?”

You knew immediately what that meant. You raced down the ramp, out into the grass, using your wings to flit up the hill, watching as Rey took a skimmer onto the raging waters, struggling to get past each wave.

“REY!” You called out to her, but your words were swallowed up by the winds. “Fuck.”

“We have to go after her.” Finn said once he and Poe caught up, Jannah just behind them on her horse. “Can you fly across?”

“On wind like this, no way, pal.” Poe said, arms crossed, hand grabbing your hip like he was afraid you’d try. “Her wings aren’t made for a gap like this.”

“I’d be a fly on a windshield. Or…sharp rocks, in this case.” You said, looking down at the jagged shore beneath you.

“I need to get over there.” Finn said, determined.

You shook your head. “No, we can’t.” You watched as Kylo’s TIE Fighter landed on the wreckage, your stomach sinking. “Oh, that’s just great.”

“We have to go help her!” Finn said again.

“We can’t! Whatever she’s meant to do out there…” You reached, the Force calling to you. This was it. Her final stand against him. Whatever was going to happen out there, she needed to do it alone. “This is her fight. Her and Kylo.”

Finn let out a frustrated sigh, meeting your eyes. You knew he could feel it, too. You were right. They needed to get through this themselves. There was no way for you to get across the gap anyway.

And so, you waited.

You watched as red and blue clashed, watching, feeling, reaching through the Force, trying to feel exactly what was going on out there.

The TIE fighter took off. Then, the skimmer came back. You reached for your saber when you saw who it was coming out of it. It wasn’t Rey in the skimmer. It was Kylo.

Poe raised his blaster as soon as he saw him, Finn reaching for his saber as well. 

Kylo approached slowly. He…didn’t have his saber, you realized. You stared at him with wide eyes as he pulled himself up the cliff, looking at all of you with vulnerable eyes, a saber hole in his black tunic.

Rey had healed him, you realized, eyebrows furrowing.

You looked him over, eyes sweeping and critical, and put a hand on Poe’s blaster, lowering it.

“Hold your fire.” You said, voice quiet, eyes still locked on Kylo’s dark, looming figure.

“Hold my–Baby, that’s Kylo Ren!”

You looked back at Poe, daring to take your eyes off of the former Sith for a few moments. His expression softened once he saw yours. You weren’t worried at all. Not a hint of fear in those eyes. He trusted you, and if you thought it was okay, then maybe…

“Ben, right?” You asked, turning back to look at him.

He smiled, tentative and unsure, eyes searching each of you for malice, for distrust. There was none. At least, not in your eyes. Finn and Poe looked like they still needed to be convinced. “Ben. Ben…Solo.”

You searched him for the heavy darkness that had burdened his soul for so long, but came up empty. Whatever had happened out there, with Rey, had left him changed. Had healed him in more ways than one.

“Is Rey okay?” Finn asked, gaze hardened.

Ben nodded. “Took my TIE Fighter. Intends to go to Exegol alone. I can help you get in touch with her, breach its communications.”

You nodded. “Alright. You…you can come with us, but…don’t be surprised if some of the folks on base don’t take too kindly to the sight of you. We’ll have to warn them you’re coming so they don’t…shoot you on sight.”

He scoffed, nodding in agreement. “I don’t think I could blame them for that after everything. But…I owe you all. I want to help, before it’s too late.”

March of the Resistance

The trip back to Ajan Kloss was…tense. Ben sat at the sabacc table, staring at the checkered tiles. Poe and Chewbacca were in the cockpit, piloting you all back to safety. Finn stood with you against the wall, watching Ben, waiting for him to say something.

You’d already spoken to Leia, warned her. She’d felt it, though. She knew you were bringing her son back to her.

He searched you, you could felt him poking around your energy with the Force, bristling slightly.

“Sorry. Force of habit.” He retracted immediately, staring at his hands, shaking with worry.

“It’s…alright. You can ask if you have questions.”

“You knew my father.” He blurted, eyes meeting yours. “My mother. You’re…they took me to your grave when I was young. Your…pod.”

“My pod…” You agreed, nodding slowly. “I did know them. I was good friends with them. Your mother was my best friend. Basically a sister to me. In another life, I would have been your aunt.”

He nodded, listening. He swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes glossy. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You told him, voice gentle and sincere. You let out a sigh. “But I’m not the only one you’re going to need to apologize to.”

Ben nodded, solemn. He didn’t reply after that.

Finn watched the interaction with guarded eyes. You couldn’t imagine how he was feeling now, a former Stormtrooper standing in front of Kylo Ren. Redeemed or not, there had to be a lot going on in his head. You put a hand on Finn’s arm, heading towards the cockpit.

“How is he…?” Poe murmured, looking back to meet your eyes.

“Not hellbent on murderous destruction anymore. Any hits from Rey?”

“Yeah, she’s headed back, too. She’ll beat us there by a handful of minutes.” Poe said. 

He reached for your hand and you gave it to him, letting him squeeze it for comfort. You were both okay, for now. But the final fight was coming. Like a tidal wave headed straight for the beach.

***

You landed in pandemonium, people rushing every which way around the base. Rey had beat you there, and was waiting when the Falcon landed, a little worse for wear, but fine otherwise.

Finn walked out of the ship first, hugging Rey tightly, the two of them talking to each other about something. You and Poe walked out next. The gathered Resistance members waiting in bated breath until, finally, Ben walked out, dressed all in black, saber-less. They all murmured, watching his every move.

As odd as it was, it was kind of nice to have them whisper about someone else for a change.

Leia stepped forward, slow, tentative. She hadn’t seen him in person in…years. From a distance, sure, but not face to face like this. The tension was palpable, the Force hanging between them nearly enough to throw you from your feet.

Poe put a hand on your arm, watching as Kylo Ren himself fell to his knees in front of his mother, tears streaming from his eyes. She knelt beside him, the two of them murmuring to each other, reconciling. It felt wrong to watch, so you stepped away, helping the others round up equipment.

Not long after, a meeting was called in the hangar, the whole Resistance gathered around to listen to the intel from Ben. He had been on Exegol, talked to the Emperor. He knew what was waiting for you there, where you all had to go, what had to be done to stop Palpatine once and for all.

You felt that sinking feeling in your chest, the one you’d gotten before the fight with Insidia. You tried to shake it off, but you knew what it meant. You…might not make it out of this one.

Poe and Finn pitched their plan to the others, discussing the ground attack on the Star Destroyers, the plot to block their communications, prevent them from taking off.

“We have friends out there. They’ll come if they know there’s hope.” Poe insisted, fire in his eyes, a hand resting on his belt. “The First Order wins by making us think we’re alone.” He met your eyes. “But we’re not alone. Good people will fight if we lead them.”

You nodded, listening to the rest of their speech, Finn and Poe, calling the shots. It was nice. Your boys. Following in the footsteps of those before you. Poe caught your gaze, tilting his head as if to say ‘your turn.’

You took a breath, gathering your thoughts. You had many. You squeezed Rey’s hand, which had been in yours for the last several minutes, Soren standing on your other side, Laesynda beside him. Your family. Your growing pack of Jedi.

“I didn’t expect to survive the first war. A lot of us didn’t. Good people gave their lives for this cause. Thirty years ago, mere months ago…We have been fighting this battle for a generation. I only got a taste of that peace. Two years of it. I’ve seen it and…I know the end. I didn’t expect to disappear, to come back in the midst of another war. But…I am honored to stand among you, my brothers and sisters, my nephew…to call you my family and fight by your side. I am with you to the bitter end. We will end this war, bring peace to the galaxy, destroy Palpatine, permanently this time. I want each and every single one of you to live in that peace, to plant the seeds of your new lives, and watch them grow in a world free of the First Order’s tyranny. May the Force be with each of you today.”

“And with us all.” Laesynda finished, her hand on your shoulder, a proud look in her eye. The group dismissed, heading their separate directions, running and working in tandem to prepare for the fight ahead.

You turned to your Jedi. Your team. Rey, Finn, Soren…Ben.

“I’m going with ground support.” Finn said. “They need me.”

“I know they do. And they’re lucky to have you.” You said, nodding. “Soren?”

“Stay here?” He asked, expecting the same answer from his Jedi Master, but instead, you shook your head.

“Nope. You’re coming with us. You’re ready now. I know you are. You’ve got us with you. We need you now more than ever.” You smiled, gently. “My Padawan.”

He nodded, determined, eyes sparkling with that Rebel moxie. He was your blood after all.

“I’ll meet you all at the Falcon. We’re wheels-up in thirty.”

Rey and Ben nodded, looking at each other, at your nephew. You left them for a moment, looking for Laesynda, who was face to face with a man around her age, maybe a hair older. He had Soren’s nose. Ah, your brother-in-law. He’d finally come around, right when you all needed him most.

You’d meet up with her in a few minutes, then.

You watched as the pilots ran around, dusting off their ships, tossing helmets to each other, mechanics rushing to get everything set for takeoff. You watched as Aspen ran past, her black hair in a braid. Snap, Jessika, Karé, running past, towards the hangar where Black Squadron’s X-Wings were.

BB-8 bumped into your leg, bobbling slightly as he looked up at you, telling you Poe was in the hangar, getting ready for take-off.

“How soon?”

He replied that it would be about fifteen minutes. You nodded, thinking.

“Can you record something for me, Bee? Something important?”

He nodded, rolling off somewhere private with you. 

You knelt down to his level and sighed, preparing yet another speech. “Hey, flyboy. It’s uh, it’s me. If you’re seeing this…something bad happened to me on Exegol. And I’m…really sorry. For everything. For all of it. For leaving you. I know you don’t go throwing the L word around, and that’s okay, but…I love you, too, for the record. I heard what you said on Pasaana. I’ve felt it at the edges of your mind. I love you, too. I have for…a long time. You’re leaving soon, so I’m going to go say goodbye to you for real. But…I wanted you to have this, too, just in case. Every…every moment I’ve been by your side has been a moment well spent, and I wouldn’t trade a single one for all the credits in the galaxy. I hope you’re…safe and happy and well. I hope you live to be super, super old, all wrinkly and gray, and reminisce on the good old days, when you used to hang out with a princess. And if I don’t make it, I want you to fall in love again. To find someone else to give your heart to. I could never be mad at you for that.”

You paused, closing your eyes as you gazed into BB-8’s camera. “I love you, Poe Dameron. I hope you have a really great, peaceful life with this little droid by your side.”

BB-8 beeped at you, telling you that he was not, in fact, little, and you laughed a little, standing up and brusing yourself off.

“I know, I know. Now let’s go find him. I gotta say goodbye.”

You walked to the hangar beside BB-8 as he rolled along. Poe was looking around, somewhat frantic until he saw his little droid, you accompanying him, your strides long and graceful, wings drifting behind you magnificently.

“Mmmm, I do love that flight suit, flyboy.” You said, eyes roaming his figure in the orange fabric.

“There you are, Princess, I was getting ready for wheels-up in here and I couldn’t find my girl or my droid.” He put his hands on your arms, looking you over. “You okay? How you feeling?”

You nodded, meeting his eyes, bravery blossoming in your chest. “Good. I’m good. How are you, Commander?”

“Ready to get this shit over with.” He let out a tired breath, hands wandering from your arms to your hips, pulling you into his chest. “We’re gonna be okay, alright? You and I? I’ll see you after. Right here. Don’t be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You said, voice soft, so much hidden in your words. “You be careful out there. Come back to me in one piece.”

He pulled away to look at you, smirking as his lips flicked down to your lips. “Of course, your Highness.”

He surged forward and kissed you, a long, passionate, earth-shattering kiss, tongue rolling over yours, arms tight around your waist. And then he pulled away, meeting your eyes again.

You stood there for a long moment, his arms around you. Your fingers drifted down to the healer’s pendant, glimmering in the dim light. He grabbed your hand, eyes searching yours, eyebrows knitted together, the heat palpable. The tension. The fear.

You pressed one last, quick kiss to his lips and turned to leave, glancing back at him. “See you later, Poe.”

As you took a few steps towards the edge of the hangar, he called out for you. “Hey, wait! I…”

You met his eyes, heart racing. You could feel it again, at the edge of his mind, the tip of his tongue.

He licked his lips. Swallowed. Then said, “I love you.”

Your jaw dropped, hand rising to your face as you let out a gasp. He’d said it. He’d actually kriffin’ said it.

“P-Poe…”

“I love you, (Y/N). I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

You ran back into his arms with new fervor, kissing his lips like it was the last thing you’d ever do. He laughed into your mouth, tears welling in his eyes as he looked you over, searching your face, your eyes, almost wondering if he’d actually said it out loud this time.

You smiled, reaching up to readjust his curls. “I love you, too.”

He couldn’t keep the grin off of his face as he asked, “You’re not just sayin’ that?”

“No, I mean it. I…I love you, Poe Dameron. Don’t get yourself blown up out there.”

He chuckled, kissing you one last time. “I’ll try, sweetheart.”

Eyes on the Jedi

You stood in the Falcon, watching as Chewie and Lando piloted. Like old times. You shook with every movement, watching out the windshield, dread growing in your stomach. First, you all would go distract Palpatine. Then, the fleet would come, taking on the army of Star Destroyers.

You had an earpiece in your ear, listening as the pilots spoke to each other. Listening to Poe’s voice as much as you could stomach to.

“Black Leader to Falcon, how are we looking, General Calrissian?”

“Smooth and steady, Black Leader. The Jedi are ready.”

“How’s the Princess?”

Lando glanced back at you, chuckling softly. “Princess is good.”

“Good, good, glad to hear it. Let us know once you drop them off.” Poe said, voice walking that line between professional and concerned.

“Will do, Commander.”

You looked to the others, putting a hand on Soren’s arm, wings tensing. He looked nervous, sure, but…he also looked determined. Brave. Ready for the fight that lied ahead, no matter how terrifying.

Finally, Lando pulled the Falcon up to the mouth of the cave. A strange swirl of nostalgia fluttered around your heart as you looked at it, a sinking, bitter feeling in your core. Insidia’s laugh echoed across your mind one last time. Luke’s voice pushed it out.

I’m with you, Princess. Then and now. You’re not alone.

You nodded, eyes closing. You weren’t alone. You had Rey. Soren. Ben. Finn was out there, too. Poe. Lando and Chewie. Leia. You had friends and allies, new and old, standing with you as you stepped off of the Falcon and into immediate danger, saber igniting, lighting the dark with magenta.

Soren lit his saber as well, standing by your side, an extension of yourself in more ways than one. Your Padawan, your nephew, wielding your original saber, the one you had been wielding on your last day of your old life. The one he and mother had journeyed so far to find.

Rey and Ben led the way, Ben more familiar with this place since he had been there. You could feel the energy already, dark and all-consuming. A cacophonous choir of voices echoing off the walls, chanting. Cultists, you realized. Perhaps some of the same souls Insidia had rallied with the first time.

Among them, the Knights of Ren.

You shivered, finally getting a good look at them. You’d never seen them all face to face, or…face to mask, but they were here, looming like shadows, weapons giving off an eerie, unsettling red light.

You looked to Rey and Ben, telling them silently to move forward, that you and Soren would handle these guys. They nodded, running off while you and Soren launched into battle, swinging your sabers against the onslaught of weapons. There were six of them, two of you, but you’d trained him well, and had been training yourself. Your movements were graceful and precise, quick and fluid, using your wings in tandem with your body, using them to get leverage.

You rotated around Soren, working together, defending each other, attacking the knights as a unit. Nephew and Aunt. Pawadan and Jedi, like all those who had come before you.

You leaped over Soren, tucking your legs in for more momentum as you crashed down onto the last knight, slashing through his armor with one final blow.

Breathing heavy, you looked to Soren, searching him for any sign of injury. There was none. He was fine. He gave you a soft, reassuring smile and you nodded, leading him back to the chamber where Palpatine was, a cult of hooded figures around the edge of the large room.

He had Ben and Rey in a chokehold of Force energy, sapping them with his withered hands, draining the very life from them.

“NO!” You roared, hands thrown forward. A wave of invisible energy crashed into him, shocking him long enough to drop them onto the cold stone ground.

“Ah…I was wondering when you’d show up, Princess. How kind of you to join us…your original, let’s say…sacrifice, was enough to revive me in the first place. Insidia gave her life. You gave yours. Two lives to restore the one, true Emperor.”

“She tried, but she couldn’t kill me.” You said, helping Rey to her feet, Ben.

“Which is why it is a half-life I live. But not for long…”

He reached forward, trying to drain the life from you next, but you stood strong, blocking him. You heard the sounds of ships overhead, out above the cave’s opening. Explosions. The sound of X-Wings crashing, ships being destroyed. Star Destroyers blasting.

“Your love makes you weak.” Palpatine scolded, energy scathing the edges of yours, finally reaching. Taking. You dropped to your knees as the power flowed from you, a horrible numbness eating at the ends of your limbs, tingling in your fingers and toes.

“(Y/N)!” Rey called out as you sprawled to the floor.

Palpatine stopped, his withered flesh repairing itself from your energy. He let out a triumphant laugh, reaching up towards the sky, lightning flying from his fingertips, up at the Resistance ships.

At Poe.

Everything ached, chest burning. You had to get up. You knew you had to. But you just didn’t have the strength. Ben and Soren swung at Palpatine, but he threw them back as though they were weightless.

“(Y/N), please. I can’t…” Rey said, broken. “I can’t do this alone.”

“You’re not alone.” Luke’s voice said as his Force Ghost appeared beside the both of you.

“Help you, we will.” Yoda added, appearing beside Luke. Then Obi-Wan, who met your eyes with a wink. Anakin…All the great Jedi of old, gathered around you. The light rising to meet the dark.

“Get up, Princess. That’s not a request.” Luke goaded, lending you his strength. His face shifted to his younger form, the way he’d looked the last time you’d fought side by side.

“You sound like Han.” You grumbled, scraping yourself off of the cold, hard ground, warmth returning to your fingers. You ignited your saber, Soren and Ben returning to the fight alongside the army of spirits summoned by the Force. The light of the Jedi, the dark of the Sith, colliding one last time as Palpatine’s cultists flooded the arena.

It was all out war. Sabers slinging every which way, light bouncing off of the walls, Palpatine’s lightning coming to a stop as he was rushed by an onslaught of Jedi, his cultists dropping off one by one, dispatched quickly. It seemed he had sapped their strength, too, using their loyalty to make himself stronger. He hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Palpatine shot lightning at you, but Soren locked sabers with you, both of you pushing the lightning back onto him, weakening him just enough.

Rey and Ben united, using their combined power to drain the Emperor, dispersing the energy back into the Force, to restore balance.

“It’s…impossible…” He groaned, thrashing about as they took it back from him, every last ounce of stolen power.

“No. It’s not.” You said, standing with the two of them, helping them finish the job, draining and draining and draining until there was nothing left. Not even a body. Dissolved entirely into the Force.

There was a great rush of power after, an explosion of it, rushing out of the cave. You looked up to find Star Destroyers nose-diving out of the sky. The four of you shared a moment of relief, the rush of victory, as the Force Ghosts dissipated around you once more.

You met Luke’s eyes, a promise. You didn’t need him anymore. But someday, if you ever did, you knew he’d be there for you. Then, he vanished, too.

Rey called for Lando, hoping the Falcon was okay, but all you could think about was Poe. At some point, your earpiece had fallen out. You had no way to check on him, other than looking up, reaching with the Force. You were nearly too frazzled to find his energy up there, but…it was. You breathed in relief. He was okay.

The Falcon swept down to get you as the cave started to rumble, unstable from the blast of energy. You all climbed on board, the rest of the ground crew was there. Rey rushed to Finn, hugging him tightly. You met up with Jannah, nodding at her and acknowledging the rest of them before sliding into the cockpit, putting on a headset just in time to catch:

“Do we have any eyes on the Jedi? That cave is gonna blow.” Poe said, voice a little pitchy over the comms.

“Just Finn, Commander.” One of the other pilots said before you could interject. “He’s on board the Falcon.”

Poe swallowed, voice getting thicker. “This is Black Leader. I repeat, do we have any eyes on the Princess and the rest of the Jedi?”

You lowered the microphone, tapping into the comms. “Reading you loud and clear, Black Leader. The Princess and the rest of the Jedi are on board the Falcon, headed home.”

You heard the way his voice hitched, the relieved little sob that left his mouth. He cleared his throat, trying to sound professional as he replied, “G-Glad to hear it. We’ll see you at home, Princess.”

Lando smiled at you, steering the Falcon away from the cave and into hyperspace, into safety. “You two remind me a whole lot of people we know.”

“I know.” You chuckled. “A pilot and a princess, who would have thought?”

“You’re good together. When I saw you at the gala together that night, I thought you were definitely already together. That look in his eye…watching you use that Princess super-power of yours up close.” Lando confessed, eyes glimmering. “He’s good for you. Enjoy it.”

“Oh, I will. This time…I’m not going anywhere.”

The Pilot, the Prince

The Falcon came down smoothly at the edge of camp. Vehicles touched down left and right, Resistance members rushing out of them and into each other’s arms, celebrating a victory hard-won. You counted heads, looked for faces.

Aspen. Beaumont. Some of the rookies. No Black Squadron yet.

You kept searching faces, counting heads. Soren ran to Laesynda and the man you assumed was her husband. Beside him, your droid. Radia. She’d…been with him all along.

You looked for Poe’s X-Wing, but didn’t see it yet, so while the others on the Falcon dispersed, you ran to your sister, holding her in your arms, burying your face in her shoulder. She laughed, smiling brightly, pulling away to look at you and Soren. Both had returned to her. Both were fine. You could feel her settle as the weight of the galaxy eased off of her shoulders.

“(Y/N)...this is my husband. Marc. Marc, this is my sister.”

He offered his hand. He had dark brown hair, a dark beard, kind eyes. He was wearing a leather jacket and gloves, a blaster holstered to his belt. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Princess. Thank you for taking care of our son.”

“Of course. It’s nice to meet you, too. I…you…” You glanced down at Radia, who was beeping and whirring excitedly.

“I borrowed her. Hope you don’t mind. She’s a great companion.”

You knelt down, wrapping your arms around your old friend, resting your head against the cool metal of her panels. She had been painted a little, it seemed, but kept up well.

“Thank you. For taking care of her.” You told Laesynda, meeting her eyes, then Marc’s. “I thought I’d never see her again.”

“I’d never let anything happen to her.” Laesynda promised. “She carries all our memories with her. All of my memories of you. I could never part with those.”

“Well, now,” you smiled, “we get to make new ones.”

The X-Wings finally arrived, the people on the ground erupting into cheers. You locked eyes on Poe’s X-Wing, on BB-8 in his compartment in the back, wobbling as he looked around, took it all in. The top of the cockpit popped open and Poe began to climb out.

“I gotta go.”

“Go get him, Princess.” Laesynda encouraged, warmth in her eyes.

You took off, fluttering your wings before flying right over, past the celebrating Rebels, straight into Poe’s waiting arms, the force of it nearly enough to tackle him to the grass.

He laughed, spinning you around and around, peppering kisses all over your face before finally setting you in front of him, eyes softening as he took you in. His Jedi. His Princess. Alive and unharmed.

Your hand rose to his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin, the other adjusting his curls, mussed up from his helmet.

“Hey.” He murmured.

“Hey yourself.” You replied, leaning up to press a tender kiss to his lips. He reciprocated immediately, hands securing themselves around your waist, tugging you closer to him as he deepened the kiss, tongue rolling into your mouth. You melted against him, breath hitching at his touch.

“Thought I lost you there for a second…” He confessed, nose brushing yours as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “That lightning…I thought…I felt…”

“I know.” You nodded, kissing him again, featherlight. “But I’m okay. We all are.”

“I love you.” He said again, breaths ragged, holding you close, a hand cradling your head. “I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you, too.” You whispered, kissing his cheek, just in front of his ear. “My daring pilot.”

“Your trigger-happy flyboy.”

“Wouldn’t have him any other way.” You said, finally pulling away enough to let Rey and Finn into your circle. The four of you held each other, heads leaning together, arms around each other as you let the peace settle. The weight of the galaxy finally easing up off of your shoulders.

***

It only made sense that after a victory like that would come a party.

Poe mingled with just about every person on the base, congratulating people, shaking hands, flashing that prettyboy smile. He glanced back at you every handful of minutes, monitoring. You were sitting with Leia and Lando and Chewie, the last remaining members of your original group, enjoying the sounds of celebration.

“You were hungover for four days after the last war.” Leia recalled, laughing as she sipped from her glass.

“Oh I remember. Or…don’t remember. I guess that’s the whole point.” You chuckled. “Those little teddy bears knew how to party.”

Lando laughed at that. “So did you, Princess.”

“Alright, alright.” You chuckled. “I had a reputation for a reason.”

A few people came up to you, offering congratulations and well-wishes. You spoke with them, wishing them the best of luck, wherever they were headed.

Eventually, Poe wandered back to you, sitting on the log beside you. He took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. Gently, he pulled your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, the fire twinkling in his warm eyes.

“Can I talk to you about something? Alone?”

You smiled, following him away from the heat and noise of the party and out into the cool night air. Your clearing. Your meditating spot. It was…lit with strings of lights, glowing and warm. Someone had come out there and decorated it.

“What’s all this…?”

“Called in some favors.” Poe admitted, letting out a nervous chuckle. “I hope you don’t mind. I guess I should have asked first…”

“No, it’s…beautiful, Poe.” You reassured him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“I, uh…guess we’ve never really talked about what happens now. Between…us. What are your plans, now that it’s all over?”

“Plans?” You thought, eyes drifting over the lights. “Laesynda and I have discussed going back to Mariposas. Rebuilding. There are a lot of folks displaced from this war, I’d like to give them a place where they can be safe. Besides, I think Rey and I should probably start up a Jedi Temple. There are a few spots there that would be perfect for one. That’s…those are my plans. What are yours?”

“So, actually, about that…I was wondering if, uh…” He took a breath, those dark eyelashes fluttering shut, brows furrowing.

You waited, head tilting as he found his words. “If…?”

“It’s okay if you say no.” He prefaced, a hand out in warning, the other in his pocket.

“Can’t say no if you never ask, flyboy.”

Poe stared at you. He took a step closer, a hand settling on your hip, met your eyes… “I…was wondering if…you’d marry me, (Y/N).”

Your jaw dropped, heart pounding, searching his eyes for the edges of the joke, but…it wasn’t. It wasn’t a joke to him. He was serious.

His hand emerged from his pocket, his mother’s ring taken off the chain he’d worn it on for so long, pinched carefully between his fingers as he waited. After a long moment, he hesitated, eyes falling to the ground, doubt swirling. “It’s too soon, isn’t it? It’s okay, I just–”

“Poe.” You said, drawing his attention back to you, eyes watering. “You’d…you’d be a prince, you know. There’s a lot of responsibility that comes with that. Rebuilding a planet.”

“Yeah, well…my schedule just cleared up, so…” He said, still tense, but that humor of his starting to peek through again.

“You’re serious.”

“Never been more serious about anything in my life.”

You let out a shudder of a sigh, reaching forward and taking his face in your hands. Kissing him passionately, a hand buried in his curls, the other fondly caressing the scar on his cheekbone.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Poe Dameron. I…Yes.”

He took your hand in his, gingerly sliding the ring onto your finger, pretending to be surprised that it fit perfectly, like he hadn’t been putting it on you while you were sleeping. “Perfect fit.”

“Yeah, it is.” You nodded, pulling him by the collar of his shirt into another kiss, the ring gleaming on your finger under the warm lights. This time, he kissed back, hungrily, mouth devouring your own, hands firm on your tips, pulling you against him. You melted against his touch, letting a quiet moan into his mouth as his fingertips skimmed the smooth tissue of your wing.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, breaths ragged, eyes searching your face. “I, uh…Bee showed me your video. When it was bad out there. The lightning…”

“Oh. Poe. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He thought I was gonna die, so…I just…you meant it, huh? You thought you wouldn’t…”

“Yeah.” You admitted. “Being a Jedi isn’t exactly a stable gig. Neither is being a pilot. Just wanted to…cover my bases.”

He nodded, hands on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into your hipbones. “I do disagree with you on one thing.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Yeah. I…I’m never gonna fall in love again after you. You’re it for me. I’m gonna love you until the day I die. Ideally, with you by my side, but…”

You closed your eyes, smiling gently, a bittersweet kind of love settling over your soul. “I just want you to be happy.”

“And I will be. With you.” He tugged you closer, pressing a long kiss to your cheek. “I had him put a little something together for you, too. If you wanna watch it now, or…later?”

“Now works.”

BB-8 rolled out of the bushes, whirring in congratulations.

You laughed. “Thank you!”

He rolled back a little, leaning up to project a video above him. What unfolded was a series of memories.

Poe and the others arriving on Mariposas to get you, Poe turning the medallion over in his hand.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Finn wondered.

“It’ll work. She’s…waited long enough.” Poe knelt down, pressing the medallion into the compartment of the healing pod. “I didn’t expect her to be so…”

“Beautiful…” Rey murmured, nodding.

“And young…” Poe said, watching as the amulet began to glow, the glass of the pod retracting shakily. They all waited in bated breath for you to wake up.

Eventually, the projection of you opened her eyes and you watched how you’d met them all, tired and confused, mistaking them for your old friends. Little had you known then just how much they would all mean to you.

After, BB-8 played a medley of each of the moments he’d captured, borrowed from other droids. The two of you building your lightsaber, him touching your wings for the first time, the way you reunited after battles and missions, the way you flirted around eachother, dancing circles around each other until finally colliding that fateful night at the gala. The way you flew over the base to get to him when he was injured. All the loving touches and gazes that came after, playfully hiding your relationship from your colleagues. Your victory kiss.

A montage of your love, all laid out for you nicely.

Fireworks boomed in the distance, the rebels out by the base finally getting into supplies you wouldn’t need now that the war was over.

You curled against his chest, swaying in the night, beneath the glittering lights.

“I can’t wait to make a million more, baby.” He murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I love you so goddamn much. Feels like it’s killing me sometimes.”

“I think that’s how it’s supposed to feel.” You kissed his cheek, then his lips. “I would know. I’ve loved you for a good, long time, Poe Dameron and…I’m gonna love you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

Epilogue

Months had passed. You had been boots on the ground on Mariposas, helping rebuild the tatters of your broken home. You started with the palace, a nice centralized building so everyone could be housed close together, but as more refugees arrived, you were sure you’d have the help you’d need to build the nearest village back up.

Rey and Finn had taken a journey to round up more Force Sensitives, the return of the Jedi, as it were. When they found them, everything would be ready. The Force would finally find balance again.

“Hey, baby, Laesynda found this in your father’s room. Said to bring it to you.” Poe said, stepping over some rubble on his way over to you, a small wooden box in his calloused hands. You weren’t married yet, still engaged and taking it one day at a time. There was a lot of work to be done before you’d feel settled enough for a wedding.

“Let me see…” You held it, brushing thirty years of dust from the lid before opening it slowly. Inside was one of your father’s rings. A gold band, a strip of purple gemstones through the center. On the inside was engraved a butterfly, the symbol of your people. “Oh…”

“It’s beautiful.” Poe said softly.

“It was Dad’s.” You confirmed, plucking it from its velvet casing. “Told her I was looking for it.”

“For what, your Highness?” He asked, voice featherlight as you took his hand, spreading his fingers.

“This.” You slid it onto his ring finger, searching his eyes. “I know we still have a lot to do before the wedding but…when all of the people get here, I…want them to know you’re mine.”

“Possessive little Princess, aren’t you? Don’t want your new subjects to get too carried away?”

“Not with my pilot.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Besides, it’s a Mariposan thing. I was supposed to propose to you, not the other way around.”

“See, I did know that, I just…couldn’t help myself.” He grinned, hand resting on your waist as he kissed you, the ring gleaming against his finger. “I’m a little impulsive.”

“I know.”

You heard a ship landing outside and rushed out with him to find the Millennium Falcon landing. Chewie emerged with Finn, Rey, and…Jannah? One of the defected Stormtroopers who had helped you all on the moon in the Endor system.

“Jannah! Hey!” You waved excitedly, rushing over to meet them, Poe following close behind.

“Your Highness…” She said, looking at you with a sparkle of insecurity in her eyes. “I’d be honored to train with you, if you’d have me.”

“Welcome aboard.” You replied, putting a hand on her arm, warmth in your eyes. “It’s not much yet, we’re still rebuilding, but, we’re getting there.”

“Day by day.” Finn said, smiling proudly. He was still wielding Luke’s green saber, and wielding it well.

In the months that had passed, however, Rey and Soren had crafted their own sabers. Rey’s was a dual blade. It made sense for her, with her experience with a staff, a brilliant yellow color. One you had never seen in a saber. Soren’s had taken on a lighter color, cyan, somewhere between green and blue. It suited him. Fresh, just like your nephew.

This left your legacy saber wielderless. You kept it with you, in case danger arose. Two sabers readily at your disposal, but…you had a feeling Jannah wouldn’t look so bad holding it. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Time would tell.

The pieces hadn’t magically fallen into place the minute the war had ended. Nor had you expected them to. Healing took time, lots of it. But you had a growing family there. People you could count on. People looking for a home, for a leader. A leader you hoped they would find in Laesynda, in yourself. Your brother had shattered the kingdom at his feet, but together, you hoped, you would find a way to recover. A way to more forward. To heal the past as you marched towards the future.

“We’ll get there.” Poe said, confident. Sure of it. You loved that about him.

“We will. All of us. Together.”

In the distance, Soren and Ben trained, flitting from branch to branch of the healing Monarch Tree, the crowned jewel of your home planet.

And for the first time in thirty years, it was finally beginning to bloom.

THE END.

Tags: @cap-lu20

[obiwan]

Hi! I just started watching the Star Wars prequels and I want to read some obikin fanfictions but I don't know where to start so if you have any recommendations for me I could really asappreciated.

Have a good day/night!

Hii! I keep saying I'm going to do this because I have so many messages like this - and what I usually try to do is leave the most "famous" ones out of reclists, because most likely everyone has read them, but they were also the first ones I've read. So I will try to do a combination of both new and old fics which I consider "classics". Also a reminder that I have already posted this this & this before. And oh boy this got long.

✰(Explicit, Complete) When the Abyss Stares Back at You  by skyl_tales

Pausing the holovid, Mace looked from Anakin to Obi-Wan. "This holovid was taken on planet Revoran two days ago."   In the holovid, the golden-eyed Anakin looked at something just out of frame. There was something distinctly hungry and possessive about that gaze. It made a shiver run up Obi-Wan's spine--because he recognized that look. He'd seen Anakin look that way at Senator Amidala.

But it wasn't Senator Amidala who stepped into the camera's view. It wasn't Senator Amidala the Sith yanked closer and kissed.

It was Obi-Wan.  [Obi-Wan and Anakin are sent to investigate the sighting of a Sith Anakin, who appears to be in a relationship with an older version of Obi-Wan.]

This is one of my favourite Obikin fics, and if you enjoy time travel shenanigans chances are you will enjoy this too. skyl_tales wrote some of my favourite fics for this fandom, so if you enjoy this, I suggest you check their other work as well!

✰(Explicit, Complete) If I only knew by wanderlove

Newly knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi and his padawan, Anakin Skywalker, have been sent to Ryloth on a simple diplomatic envoy. While there, an unsettling incident causes Obi-Wan to look at Anakin in a new light and re-evaluate…everything.

The Galaxy will never be the same.

aka: "come for the obikin, stay for the tzai and deep emotional discussions that dismantle every single misunderstanding in the prequels."

Beautiful story!!!! This is honestly one of the most wholesome and "fix-it/what-if" kind of canon obikin fics I've ever read. I really really recommend reading this if you're just getting into Obikin and the SW-verse in general.

✰(Explicit, Complete) Moonlight Serenade by Lemon (@renlyslittlerose)

“Glad you came,” the man said. He pushed away from the lamppost and approached Anakin, his hand held out for him to take. “I realized I never properly introduced myself. I’m Major Kenobi, but you can call me Obi-Wan.”

Anakin took his hand and shook it, their touch lingering for just a little longer than was normally acceptable. It felt like holding on to fire. “Flying Officer Skywalker. But most call me Anakin.”

An accident in 1944 over the fields of France puts an end to Anakin’s flying career. Discharged and sent back to Canada, Anakin must confront the ghosts of his past and find a new path forward.

This is a WWII AU - so beware of that in the first place, but I have always enjoyed historical AUs, and this is very beautifully done. It spans over a long time (my favourite) and does it so well.

✰(Explicit, Complete) To Eden by Unfortunate17

Accused of masterminding the Jedi Temple bombing, Obi-Wan is expelled from the Order.

Anakin is left to pick up the pieces.

This fic. THIS FIC!!!! I don't have anything to say about this - read this fic (in fact read everything written by this author - they have a bodyswap fic called Gray Matter) I really enjoy their characterization of both Obi-Wan and Anakin and the story telling is amazing. Truly love them.

✰(Teen, Complete) Don't be Afraid. by spqr

Tainted by your encounter with the Sith, you are, Obi-Wan imagines Master Yoda saying. Fix you, we cannot. To the AgriCorps, you shall return.

“Padawan Kenobi,” Yoda says, after a moment. “Complete your training, Master Skywalker will.”

Another reverse AU! I realise this is one of those 'either you love it or hate it' tropes, but I do love it, so I include it in my recs. I enjoy imagining the scenarios of Jedi Master Anakin and Padawan Kenobi, so if you think that's something you would also enjoy, give this a chance!

✰(Explicit, Complete) Fearless and the Negotiator by @zimriya

Anakin Skywalker is a superhero. He spends his nights roaming the streets of Coruscant alongside his superhero partner—a man called the Negotiator whom he has never seen without a mask, and yet whom he loves desperately all the same. By day, Anakin works an uneventful nine-to-five at Jedi Inc., doing his best to remember that he cannot murder his coworkers—even if they are called Obi-Wan Kenobi and are the literal worst.

A superhero AU!!! I love his au because it's so well done and so well thought out (the details in this!!!) and I love enjoying Obi-Wan in white spandex. Like that's my bread and butter right there. Either way, if you enjoy marvel-esque superheroes and Obi-Wan and Anakin is the usual idiots they are, give it a go <3

✰(Explicit, Complete) if you love me, let it remain unnamed by @tennessoui

Obi-Wan Kenobi is grappling with his failure to protect his padawan from Dooku's blade. As the galaxy around them plunges into civil war, he overcorrects and refuses to allow Anakin's Knighting ceremony in order to keep him by his side where he will be safe.

His padawan is less than pleased.

Only trying to help, the Force overcorrects Obi-Wan's overcorrection and pulls them into an alternate universe where they run into a different version of Anakin Skywalker altogether.

But Obi-Wan Kenobi is also grappling with new, sudden, and insistent feelings for his padawan. He overcorrects by following the older version of Anakin into bed.

His padawan is less than pleased.

The Force….lets them figure this one out on their own.

OBIWAN GETS TAG TEAMED. OBIWAN GETS DOUB- [gunshot] Look, this fic is hot but beyond that, I loooove time travel shenanigans, and Anakin being pissed off at a future version of himself is so delicious.

✰(Explicit, Complete) Lex Talionis by @intermundia

The ancient Galactic Republic is dying slowly—an ugly death of corruption, sprawl, and decay—with the sin of slavery hanging over its every triumph. The beleaguered Jedi Knights are too few to adequately patrol and police the entire Republic, and are faced with complacency and greed at every turn. Born into a crumbling and stagnant galaxy, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker are faced with the greatest challenge of all: themselves.

Obi-Wan likes rules and control. When the galaxy around him stops playing by the rules, what is a Jedi to do? Anakin needs rules and restraint. When the galaxy around him conspires to set him loose, what is his Master to do? Falling slowly or falling fast, falling through lust or falling through wrath—it all leads to delusion and moral decay. What can be born from the ashes?

Or, how Obi-Wan and Anakin fell to the dark side, obtained their revenge, and saved the galaxy in the process.

An insane canon-divergence AU, this is so intricate and could truly be a movie of its own lol. It features (eventually) sith! Obi-Wan and sith! Anakin, so beware of that, but I don't want to spoil that story. Also that I would never rec any story that has a sad ending :)

✰(Explicit,A/B/O, Complete) i shouldn't cry (but i love it) by blahzarry

Obi-Wan knew alphas that liked to be taken existed. He knew it was possible. But not once in his life had he felt even tempted to try it.

...It's exactly what it says on the tin. Once again one of those: either you will love it or hate it kind of tropes I think, omegaverse is what it is. If you're familiar with it and the idea of an Alpha Obi-Wan growing to enjoy submission sounds like up your alley (it is mine,) then by all means!

✰(Teen, Complete) that mouth of yours looks like it gets you into trouble by @tennessoui

Obi-Wan Kenobi inhales a powder that compels him to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Good thing Obi-Wan doesn't have any secrets.

or,

by god, Obi-Wan Kenobi is forced to talk about his feelings. It's, on the whole, regrettable for everyone involved. Or it would be once everyone stops laughing about it.

Fairytale tropes! I've always loved truth serum/truth spell trope where one party is obliged to tell the truth. Add one repressed Obi-Wan Kenobi into the mix? Perfection. I looooove this fic so much, it's wholesome and touching at the same time.

✰(Explicit, Complete) The Bottom of the Ninth by @ragnarlothcat

"No baseball pitcher would be worth a darn without a catcher who could handle the hot fastball." - Casey Stengel

Obi-Wan Kenobi is the veteran catcher of the Coruscant Jedi, a talented baseball team that have been down on their luck. The addition of rookie pitcher Anakin Skywalker might be a sign all that's about to change.

Especially for Obi-Wan.

Lmao anyone who knows me a *little* bit knows that I have an obsession with sports aus. This is no exception. Granted I know *nothing* about baseball, but this was a perfect balance of actually explaining the sport without getting too heavily into details and making it a perfect obikin story. WE 👏 NEED 👏 MORE 👏 SPOTS 👏 AUS 👏

✰(Teen, Complete) the sound of your voice (helps me find peace) by izazov

It was a promise to Qui-Gon Jinn that had allowed Anakin Skywalker into Obi-Wan Kenobi's life. But it was Obi-Wan Kenobi who had allowed Anakin Skywalker into his heart.

OR (more accurately):

Five times Anakin had to ask for a story. And one time Obi-Wan offered it freely.

Ahhh this author, this fic. It's so beautifully written, canon compliant au, and it just hurts (in the most beautiful, gut wrenching way). It's beautifully melancholic, I always love their works even if they leave me with a pang in my chest.

✰(Explicit, Complete) Conceal Me What I Am by @himboskywalker

Separatist Propaganda is turning the Republic against the Jedi Order and the Senate sees no choice but to join in a political alliance to fight dissent on a unified front.An alliance is proposed through an arranged marriage,between a Jedi Knight and Republic Senator. Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi are chosen as representatives of the political union by Darth Sidious, meant to bring ruin to the marriage and the public's support of the Jedi,for Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the Beta he claims. But even Sidious does not know of the secret Anakin Skywalker keeps, that he is not the Alpha the galaxy believes him to be.

Another omegaverse fic!! This time with omega Anakin and alpha Obi-Wan in disguise. I read this fic eons ago (read: when I first got into the fandom) but it always stuck with me, because I love sneaky stuff like this - also it's plot driven! It's an au but within the same universe, so again, if you don't have anything against omegaverse, give it a read.

✰(Teen, Complete) we should run after each other (and be with one another) by Resacon1990

Even though he’s still full of anger and rage, he pushes it all aside to force a smile and squeeze Anakin’s shoulders.

“No, Anakin,” he says quietly, “I could never blame you for his death.”

It’s the first time Obi-Wan ever lies to Anakin.

or

Five times Obi-Wan lied to Anakin, and the one time he told the truth.

Another 5+1 fic!! I love this fic, also semi canon compliant, and very much gut wrenching. I love this kind of story telling where we get to see the span of their lives throughout 5+1 thingies. This is a beautiful story <3

✰(Explicit, Complete) Swear On It by dirkygoodness

Anakin lets his feet take him a good ways from camp before he actually stops, breathing fast from the memory of his dream.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight against it and holds his breath for a moment, trying to get himself under control. Tonight it doesn’t seem to be working, though, because the images of people he knows and loves hurt and bloody and dead just won’t get out of his mind.

YOOO - this is one of the first fics I've read in this fandom and oh my god. It's kind of PWP - but the characterization, the feeling, the EMOTION. It's all there. It's a two parter - read them both, it's so good, it's one of those fics where I read it and I was like. Oh yeah this happened in canon.

✰(Explicit, Complete) Bare grace misery by @thedunesea

Anakin let out a pained sound. “I failed my men, I failed you, and now… and now this. Could you, Obi-Wan? Could you come from this humiliation?” His voice broke, and then he was weeping, hot tears streaming down his face even as he kept stroking himself, his sobs of shame intermingling with his whimpers of pleasure. The mixture was so unbelievably erotic Obi-Wan felt his head spin.

Or: Anakin gets poisoned, and the antidote that saves his life has some uncomfortable side effects.

Ahhh, gorgeous fic! Have to say the only version of Dom!Obi-Wan I enjoy is Gentle!Dom Obi-Wan and this fic does it justice! It's such a nice read - I love some self shaming Anakin and Gentle! Obi-Wan guiding him through those feelings.

✰(Explicit, WIP) toss overboard what is too heavy to carry by @tennessoui

In the aftermath of the Clone Wars, Palpatine dead and untold tragedy averted, the Republic struggles to heal and rebuild itself.

Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi attempt to do the same with their own relationship, riddled as it has become with betrayal, distrust, and hurt. It's not going too well. Desperate and unwilling to accept that maybe their friendship is ruined, Anakin finds a counselor they can talk to, one that specializes in healing "teams."

Or, as the counselor would probably put it, married couples, which they are decidedly not. Not that she knows that though. And not that they know that she thinks they're in a romantic relationship either. What a silly assumption to make. It's not like they're more intimate than lovers or anything.

I know I recced this before, and I'm usually against that but lol. This fic, this fic truly holds such a special place in my mind, it fits in SO WELL with the headcanons I have of Obi-Wan and Anakin, the little questionnaires they answer in the end of each chapter - the EVERYTHING. I'm not even exaggerating this fic is what's keeping me tethered to the obikin fandom atm. I really get a bit stupid when Kit's fics are involved, she is probably the author who got me hooked on obikin, so I would suggest checking out her work in general. I could rec anything and everything from her.

✰(Explicit, Complete) You can call me baby (You can call me love) by @lilredghost

Four times Anakin calls Obi-Wan an old man, plus one time he realizes how much it bothers him.

I love Sub!Obi-Wan who loved being called baby and who is also a bit insecure and this is why this fic is here sue me.

✰(Mature, Complete) Fringe believers and hopeless wanderers by iiscos

A Jedi falls in love with a kind, but poor mechanic aboard the luxurious, ill-fated R.S.C. Terranova.

A Star Wars/Titanic AU

A titanic AU!!! I love this so much, (it does have a happy ending) and the premise is so intriguing, (as someone who has never seen titanic) I love this fic greatly)

Look - this is OF COURSE not a comprehensive list. I tried to compile somewhat of a combo of new and old fics, of course of the ones I've loved. Please do check out the author's other fics if you like their fic you've read! That's a sure way to discover more fic you'll most likely enjoy. Hope you like this, I wish I could do more, but it takes up more time than you can imagine, so, until next time!!!

[voidcat-senket]

SW Rare Pair 2024

Fallen Order/Jedi Survivor fills*

*as determined by the use of the "Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order Series (Video Games)" tag

and love you shall find

fic | 39k | T | Bode/Cal, Bode/Tayala | Inquisitor Cal Kestis

Bode Akuna refuses to run. Eleventh Brother finds himself unable to kill Tayala Akuna.

I got a problem, think I'm into it

fic | 1.1K | T | Bode/Cal/Moran | Flirting

Moran is just minding his own business, sitting at the bar, taking in the view (heh), when Bode comes over to 'dissuade' him. It doesn't work.

Into Danger

fic | 1.9k | E | Bode/Cal | Porn without Plot

Bode and Cal hide from troopers in a storage closet and it gets horny fast

The Piece That Was Joy

fic | 20k | T | Bode/Tayala/Cal | Time Travel

Ten years after Kata lost her mother, she and Cal return to the husk of her home on Birren. While Kata meditates on her loss, Cal instead meditates on the Force Tear that dwells inside the space, with unexpected consequences. When they opens their eyes again, those ten years have fallen away.

Tanalorr is a grave

fic | 24k | M | Bode/Cal | Eldritch!Tanalorr

Which is worse? The echoes of deaths long forgotten, or the total absence of life where there should be a wealth of it? Tanalorr looks beautiful, but it’s empty: every flower and plant is little more than light and air, tricking the senses into seeing abundance where there is none. Bode survives his fight with Cal and it should be the perfect ending. Tanalorr is a paradise, a haven that glitters under the golden glow of the Abyss. But while Cal deals with the twin spears of his own guilt, and Bode’s refusal to accept the love he's offered, Tanalorr conspires to keep them apart.

The satisfaction of seeing two lovebirds get together

fic | 6k | M | Bode/Cal Moran/Cal | Fake Relationship

Moran was flirting with Cal, and Bode didn't know what to do about it.

Tangled Up

art | G | Din/Boba/Cal | Bounty Hunting

It's hard enough to catch a Jedi solo, but somehow adding another hunter to the mix just makes things more difficult.

HortiCALture

art | G | Bode/Cal | comic

A passing conversation.

Gas Money

fic | 7k | M | Din/Cal | Found Family

When stranded on a backwater world while on his quest to find a Jedi, Din Djarin takes a bounty on a treasure hunter.

Eternally Bound

fic | 6k | T | Bode/Cal | Scrapper!Cal ISB!Bode

Every day, Cal has to deal with the Empire, being stuck on Bracca, and more. And every night, Cal has to deal with the nightmares. Each one shares the same man within them. And finally, Cal sees the man from his nightmares face for the first time.

Homecoming

fic | 2K | G | Bode/Cal | Family Slice of Life

Cal, Bode, Kata and Beedee go stargazing.

Empty Husks and Hungry Halls

fic | 8K | T | Cal/Reva | Inquisitor!Cal

When Third Sister returns from a three week long mission to find that someone new has shown up on Nur, she spends her precious free time to figure out who it is. Though the answer she gets is something far worse than she could have ever imagined.

Entry Log

fic | 12k | T | Cal/Rayvis | AU: Delayed Order 66

“Entry Log One. This is Commander Cal Kestis of the 13th Battalion on the Albedo Brave led by Jedi General Jaro Tapal.” There's something to be said about learning someone's life by a holovid journal they leave behind. The button is pressed again.

Braided Melody

fic | 1K | T | Bode/Tayala | Hairbraiding

Bode braids Tayala's hair and tells her a story while doing so.

No Longer the Lost (No Longer the Same)

fic | G | 1.3K | Bode/Cal | Post Canon Fix!It

At a celebration of the fall of the Empire, Cal realizes he cannot face Bode after everything, but he doesn't want to intrude on Kata's reunion with her father. He runs, Bode follows.

Undone

fic | E | 5K | Reva/Trilla | light BDSM

Second commands. Third obeys.

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Chapter 3 ------ The Project

Summary: They all have their preferred weapon. Jedi prefer lightsabers. Hunter prefers blades. Cody prefers blasters. Shem prefers secrecy under the moonlight.

Warnings: Police brutality. Canon typical violence and abuse.

Bright Eyes returned to her office just after lunch, sipping her water. A few cadets were sleeping or playing a card game—a typical sight for this time in the day and rotation cycle. She greeted a few quietly and sat at her desk, pulling open her datapad. A ping on her comm pulled her from the draft of the meeting agenda for tomorrow’s SW meeting.

     Bright Eyes,

There’s a trooper outside your door, lurking. Long hair, a red bandana, and half of a skull tattoo. It looks a little old to be one of yours. Shem’s?

See you at the staff meeting tomorrow (please bring me caff!),

SW Garo

Bright Eyes furrowed her brow and pushed away from her desk. She hadn’t heard a knock. It could only be Sargent Hunter sitting outside her door. She hadn’t spoken to him since bringing him to her office the first time. She hadn’t seen or heard of any of the Bad Batchers, for that matter, since meeting them. It was as if they were a figment of her imagination, there one day and gone the next.

Bright Eyes stepped outside to find the sergeant sitting on the floor outside her door. In his hand, he twirled a simple blade wrapped in leather. One long leg was bent, propping up his hand and fiddling with the blade, and the other reached out in front of him. Aside from a glance, he didn’t pay her much attention as she stepped over his leg to sit on his left.

“You know, I have a much more comfortable place to sit than the floor,” Bright teased, leaning back on the cold wall. Everything about this planet was incredibly cold, dark, and wet, leaving most of her wardrobe thick and layered. Most of the time, it barely fought the chill in her bones. 

Sergeant Hunter’s lip twitched, casting her a side glance. “SW Shem should be any minute, and your office is littered with kids.” 

Hunter’s cheeks were dark with the shadow of afternoon stubble, and for a moment, Bright Eyes thought about how he would look with a beard. The Sergeant’s eyes sparkled as she met his eyes, caught staring at him. Bright Eyes felt her cheeks warm as she averted her eyes. 

“Last time I checked, you were a Sergeant and could order them out,” Bright changed the subject, elbowing him gently.

Hunter snorted, tilting his body towards hers. He was tall enough to still look down at her somewhat, but they were more eye-level than not. She quite liked his eyes, warm brown tones that were playful with flickers of gold when the light was just right. She was staring again.

“Nah, I wouldn’t want to ruin their fun while they can have it.” Hunter gestured to Shem’s door. “Wrecker’s been in there a long time for his evals. Should I be worried?”

“No,” Bright hummed, leaning her head against the wall and pulling her knees to her chest. “She’s probably just checking his cybernetic eye and if he needs hearing aids. We have to jump through a few extra hurdles because of medical.”

Bright watched him flip his knife, twirling it between his skilled fingers to keep from staring at him. She had never seen a simple blade on Kamino. Most blades were vibroblades with long conduit energy lines that ran longways down the blade. Hunter’s blade had a beautiful forge to it, silvers and greys floating over the metal like waves, twisting and turning. Pausing his movements, Hunter suddenly flipped the blade over and presented the hilt to her. 

“I got it on one of the first missions we ran without supervision,” Hunter noted, running his hand over the red-wrapped handle. Bright Eyes hesitantly asked for permission before taking the blade from him.

The leather was soft, and the handle was only slightly too big for her hand to grasp comfortably. The knife was surprisingly light and balanced well as she held two fingers beneath the bolster. She ran a finger along the sharpened line of the blade, careful not to cut herself, as she examined the blade for chips.

“Is it your preferred weapon?” She questioned.

“Vibroblades work better for droids, but I prefer this when needed.” 

Unique as it was beautiful, Hunter’s knife reminded her of him in more ways than one. Her breath caught as she looked at him, finding his eyes. Handsome? Yes. But so much more than that. He was a good man, dependable and trustworthy. She had seen it in the choices he made for his brother's listed in his file. In the way Shem had complimented him after her intake with him- something she rarely did. Bright glanced at his mouth, following the contour of his tattoo around the plushness of his mouth. 

The door to Shem’s office opened, and Bright Eyes handed the hilt back to Hunter, bashful, as he held her gaze for a moment, neither moving their hands until Wrecker and Shem stepped into the hall.

“Sergeant,” Shem’s eyes narrowed as she flickered them between Bright Eyes and Hunter. Bright Eyes cleared her throat and stood up, running her palms over her thighs as if she hadn’t been thinking about kissing him. 

“Excuse me,” She mumbled awkwardly, feeling like a child caught with her hand in a sweets jar. Hunter’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

“Will you be at breakfast in the morning?” His fingers caressed her skin, as if taking in the softness of her skin. 

“No, we have a staff meeting first thing,” Bright flashed him a regretful smile. “I’ll see you around Sargent.”

“See you around, SW.”

“Police! Open up!”

Bright Eyes startled awake, blinking the night blur from her eyes. There was more pounding on their door, creating a pit of dread in her stomach. In the shared refresher, Shem flushed the toilet. The loose floor panel they used as a hiding spot was out of place, uncharacteristically empty. She blinked, tilting her head to the side.

The testimonials.

“Shem!” Bright Eyes threw herself out of bed, racing to the bathroom to pull Shem from where she tore apart the last of the testimonials, flushing them from existence. “Shem! What are you doing? The papers!”

“Go back to bed! They are two seconds from breaking down that door, and if they find you awake, they’ll think you’re conspiring with me and the smuggling ring,” Shem hissed, flushing the toilet as the last of the papers went down the drain. Her eyes flickered back to the main door as the Kaminoan police pounded on the door.

“I don’t understand? The smuggling ring?” Bright was hot on Shem’s heels as they exited the refresher. The testimonials had to leave Kamino, but Bright was never privy to that information in case this exact thing happened. However, she had always assumed the papers had been shipped off of Kamino like every other export and import, not smuggled like her nail polish. 

“Yes, someone caught the handler on Coruscant and traced it back to me. I’ve already hidden the testimonials from my office. They’re in yours now. Check the wall panels when you can. But you have to pretend to be sleeping. They won’t assume you had anything to do with this unless you give them a reason to. Okay?” Shem sat on her bed just as the pounding on the door stopped. They both faced the door as everything stilled. 

Bright Eyes screamed as the door caved in, troopers in white and black plastoid swarming into the room. The first two pointed their blasters at her and Shem as following troopers flooded into their space, pulling drawers from their dressers and dumping the items on the floor. 

“Get off of me!” Shem yelled as one pulled her by the arm, throwing her into the wall to cuff her before patting her down.

“You’re being arrested for treason, SW,” the trooper responded, pushing his elbow against the back of her neck to still her. Shem whimpered with her neck arched uncomfortably. Bright Eyes moved to help, only to be grabbed by the arm.

“He’s hurting her! Get off of her neck!” Bright Eyes yelled. The trooper grabbed her neck and forced Bright Eyes into the hall, throwing her to the ground. Bright Eyes hit the ground with a hiss, watching as Shem was led out of the SW wing and the remaining officers began destroying their room, searching for what was long gone. She moved to stand, but the officer pointed his blaster at her. She covered her side, cowering closer to the wall.

“Shem! Where are you taking her?” Bright Eyes begged the officer standing over her with his blaster pointed at her. She watched the troopers escort Shem to the lift, pressing one of the lower-level options. Shem had her head tilted high, eyes steeled for what was to come. Just as the door began to close, a blue blot struck her. Her body collapsed to the floor, unconscious. When and where she would wake, Bright Eyes didn’t know, but she would find her.

[cryptidcat5105]

Sky wielders AU | Interlude

Part 1 of the AU | Art | First interlude

So, this is just a silly idea that the wind must've whispered to me, but here we are.

Tiny spoilers for the empyrean series but can be read without the context of the AU. Also art at the end for anyone interested.

I want to make SW!Xaden a bit more of an agent of chaos than what he's portrayed as in canon. Is it ooc? Sure. Does he deserves to be just a little bit more unhinged and goofy? Of course. This man grew up with Liam and spent two years with Garrick before we meet him, he absolutely picked up some of their silly.

I think SW!Xaden was one chaotic little guy since he was a just a kid and ended up having one hell of a talent for making and repairing his own clothes and armor after he kept tearing them. He made his own arm guards and fur boots for example.

I like to imagine that when he was around 7 or 8 he started refusing to wear any shoes, claiming they're uncomfortable. He went so far as to go barefoot for a few days until he found a pair of old handmade fur boots in the back of Fen's closet and declared they're the only shoes he's ever wearing again. They were far too big for Xaden at the time but Fen decided that if that's the only thing he'll wear he'll take it over Xaden going barefoot. So he made Xaden a smaller pair of boots and taught him how to make a pair himself so he will never go without.

This went on up until the apostasy when Xaden and Liam were taken in by Lindell and he was forced to wear "proper" shoes. He absolutely detested them though, so once Xaden was in front of the parapet he decided "Fuck it! Who's even gonna stop me at this point?" And yeeted his boots into the ravine and cross the parapet barefoot. Leadership still tried to get him to wear shoes but to no avail. This man is so innately stubborn that he proceeded to go barefoot all the way to threshing. He'd rather have splinters and cuts than have uncomfortable footwear.

I'm sure Sgaeyl was amused by the frustrations her rider was causing leadership with his questionable choices, but after she riffled through his memories she just disappear one night and return with a dead reindeer and told Xaden to do his thing.

And that's how Xaden got a fresh pair of steal planted fur boots that he's been wearing ever since.

(His leather working skills will definitely come in handy when he decides to make Violet her saddle and, later on, her own pair of boots, far more refined than his own, in order to withstand the cold of Aretia)