#TROS hurt us all enough

[transgriffin]

Usually I dream the most random and abstract, eldritch crap ever but last night I dreamt that Disney made a mini-series following the events after TROS (yeah retconning some useless shit they did), and someone had taken a badly injured Hux on a small ship with them to get him medical attention. Kylo, Finn, Rey and Rose were on board, so I'd just guess that Poe was piloting, while Kylo was pushing a cloth against Hux's wound (and Hux helped uwu touchy hands), trying to calm him down with a soft, low voice while Hux tried to speak his last wishes in helpless agony (he survived).

The second half of my dream I was about to participate in a school play but hadn't learned my lines and couldn't find my papers. And I confronted some school bullies that were also bodybuilders.

Yeah I preferred dreaming of getting some extra minutes with Hux. With that precious, perfect, handsome ginger face.

#kylo ren #general hux #kylux #tros salt #armitage hux #dream #star wars #No I dont want a retcon show #Just let it die pls #TROS hurt us all enough #And those Twitter retcons were a slap in the face #I can always dream of my boys having a happy end

[nowritingonthewall]

What do you think about the way Poe literally jolts up as soon as Finn holds him after the explosion in TLJ?

Could it be some sort of trauma related to what he endured while being captured?

Baby boy has pure and utter panic in his eyes before he sees it's just Finn, I honestly think that the aftermath of everything that's happened to him in TFA is not discussed enough.

Oh my goodness, a Poe ask, thank you so much, Nonnie 🥰

And omg there are so many thoughts that come up while watching this little scene!

To some extent his reaction can probably be explained by the fact that he is still right in the middle of an extremely dangerous situation. His adrenaline levels must be going through the roof at this point. So after what just happened, it may even appear to seem normal for his body to be in fight or flight modus at this very moment when he jolts at Finn.

However. By the time we get to the events occurring in TLJ, Poe has been in constant flight or fight modus for years. This poor and sweet and wonderful man experienced his first major traumatizing event when he was only eight years old and had to witness the death of his Mom. And his teenage years weren’t exactly smooth sailing, either, the few months that span the events in “Free Fall” alone were just one life-threatening situation after another and he was never really presented with any opportunity to recover from any of those. So when he is brought onto the Finalizer in TFA, he is most likely already suffering from severe C-PTSD.

And then, of course, there is his interrogation, which would have been enough to break any man, even one without a history of trauma. And Poe just keeps on going as if nothing happened after that. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that TLJ takes place only a few days after the events in TFA, but, uhm… to come back to your question, yes, I absolutely think that his reaction is a trauma response!

And I couldn’t agree more, it isn’t discussed enough, that’s why we need a whole Poe Dameron tv show (with 10 seasons minimum, please)!!!

But even though it isn’t discussed enough, imho the aftermath is plain to see in Oscar’s acting. Just in case you haven’t come across it yet, may I recommend this excellent post by @userpoe laying out several symptoms of PTSD that Poe shows in all the movies. I’d even go as far as saying that most of his actions that seemed to be out of character or earned him hate by the “fans” can be traced back to Poe being a deeply traumatized man. Like, e.g. his very short temper with Threepio. We know that’s not how Poe usually acts towards droids. Apart from his incredibly sweet way of interacting with BB-8 (and his love interest in “Resistance”) we literally see him behaving very different towards Threepio himself in the Poe comics. And, of course, there is that very character-revealing moment on Kijimi in TROS, and the pain you can see in Poe’s eyes when Threepio is taking “one last look at my friends”. This movie has so many moments that were most likely added for a cheap laugh by the writers but that fit so smoothly into Poe’s history with PTSD, whether it’s his annoyance with Threepio or his display of trust issues when he wonders whether Rey’s been using her jedi powers on Finn and him.

I am sorry, I have digressed way beyond your original question.

But, may I just add, apart from Poe showing clear signs of trauma, it’s also a little heartbreaking to watch how he doesn’t even take a moment to think of himself when Finn asks him whether he is all right? Apart from the wounds to his heart and soul, his body must hurt like hell after being subjected to that explosion (and I bet he didn’t even take as much as a little casual trip to the med bay) and he doesn’t even stop to give Finn a short “I am okay.” He immediately jumps to thinking about what needs to be done to save everybody else. (And of course, then there’s that wonderful moment when we see Leia mirroring his thought process which will never stop making me emotional.)

#chrissie answers #poe dameron #star wars #tw: trauma #tw: death of a parent

[phoenix-downer]

Secret Wish Chapter 1

Secret Wish: ~1030 words. As Tifa helps Cloud down Mt. Nibel, he wishes their reunion were under different circumstances but longs to be close to her all the same.

Story Info: Cloud Strife/Tifa Lockhart. Set during Crisis Core. Canon Compliant, Alternating POVs, Missing Scenes. Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 

Cloud had dreamed of being close to Tifa again, but not like this. 

She’d gotten stronger in their time apart. That was clear, going by how she could drag his pathetic ass down a mountain. The cowboy tour guide outfit showed off the muscles in her arms and legs and torso, but it was how she could support his weight as they painfully inched closer and closer to Nibelheim that was the real test of her strength.

He wanted desperately to ask when that had happened. How that had happened. There were so many things he wanted to talk to her about, but the red hot shame coursing through his entire body prevented that. He couldn’t even risk crying out from the pain of his injury—what if she recognized his voice?

As always, he buried his true feelings deep inside. They made him weak. They were proof of his weakness. He’d left her with grand promises and had nothing to show for it, and now, instead of saving her, she was saving him.

Zack, on the other hand, was as upbeat as always as he protected them both, defeating another group of fiery Bombs like it was no sweat off his back. Because it wasn’t. He was SOLDIER, 1st Class, something Cloud could only dream of.

“And another group of those guys out of the way!” Zack cheerfully called, replacing the giant sword on his back like it weighed nothing. 

“Thank you,” Tifa said, her voice sounding strained. Cloud was woozy and floating in and out of consciousness from the pain, but her voice cut through his thoughts like nothing else did.

He wished she was thanking him instead. That he’d done something worth thanking. Being jealous of Zack was pointless, stupid. No, Zack was just fine the way he was. It was Cloud who was too weak. Cloud who needed to change.

“How’s he holding up?” Zack asked, mercifully avoiding saying Cloud’s name. Cloud said nothing in response. Even if he weren’t in a lot of pain that made speaking difficult, he could never come clean about who he was around Tifa.

“You okay?” she gently asked, searching his helmeted face. So caring and compassionate even though she didn’t even know who she was. 

He nodded, too afraid to speak.

“Need a break?”

He shook his head. Yeah, he probably did, but this whole thing was embarrassing enough as it was. He didn’t want to show any more weakness. He’d suck it up till they got back to Nibelheim and then he could curl up and make all the noise he wanted to.

“Keep going,” Tifa called to Zack, her breathing somewhat labored but her determination shining through. “The sooner we get back to Nibelheim,” she said, then took a few deep breaths, “the sooner we can get him help.”

“You’re pretty tough,” Zack said. Even with the general fog of pain clouding his thoughts, Cloud could tell Zack was impressed.

Well, Tifa was impressive. Smart, strong, beautiful, driven, compassionate, and caring. She was the whole package. The boys in the village had all wanted her attention growing up. Cloud still couldn’t figure out why she’d agreed to see him at the water tower that fateful night.

What does she see in me? I’m not the man she wants me to be. I can’t even protect her. Zack’s protecting the both of us.

“I’ve been training,” Tifa said in response to Zack’s remark. “And…this isn’t the first time…strange things…have been sighted…on Mt. Nibel. You really…can’t be too careful…these days.”

Cloud felt guilty for making her so winded. But Zack was the better fighter still, so this was the best they could do in Cloud’s current state.

“You can say that again,” Zack agreed. “I’ve seen stuff you wouldn’t believe. I dunno, makes it hard to know who to trust.”

Something had happened inside the reactor that was troubling Zack, Cloud was sure of it. He wanted to pick his brain later when everything didn’t hurt so damn much.

“Yeah,” Tifa said sadly.

With that they continued their trek down the craggy, creepy mountain that haunted Cloud’s thoughts and revisited him over and over again in his nightmares. It was pain, pain, more pain, and he kept slipping in and out of consciousness. One foot in front of the other till this hellish situation was over.

Tifa spoke to him only when necessary, but she was always so kind and gentle. Checking to make sure he was holding up okay, resting him against a rock when they needed breaks, offering him some water from her canteen. He about died when she unscrewed it for him and carefully held it to his lips as he drank, murmuring soft, gentle things to him. Encouraging him to rest and recover his strength so they could continue down the mountain once he was ready.

Was this like how things would be if they were together? He’d fantasized about her taking care of him like this more times than he cared to admit. He wanted to protect her and keep her safe from harm, but being doted on, being cared for when he was injured or sick…yeah, that was stuff he’d dreamed about too.

Then when she drank out of the canteen afterwards, his stupid lovesick mind pretended she was kissing him. Indirectly, sure, but this was the best he could do.

Zack was examining the two of them closely. A knowing smile spread across his face, and Cloud knew his friend had caught on to his secret. Cloud wanted to groan. He could only hope Zack would keep his mouth shut.

Thankfully, he did. Or if he didn’t, Cloud was too out of it to care. The rest of the way down the mountain was a blur. All that Cloud could really remember was Tifa’s arm around his waist and his arm around her shoulder. This wasn’t the reunion he’d wanted or expected, but…being close to Tifa again almost made up for the shameful circumstances of his return to his hometown.

Almost. Until he’d proven his worth, he couldn’t show his face to her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you for reading! I love the part of Crisis Core where Tifa helps a wounded Cloud (wounded because he protected her!! Will never be over that honestly) down Mt. Nibel and wanted to explore that more. What Cloud might be thinking and feeling and then what Tifa thinks about the whole situation. The pining, dramatic irony of the situation, and delicious angst is just all so good...to be so close to the person you love but they have no idea it's you...and yet, what if they sensed it on some level even if their "logical" side rejects it and so they dismiss it? But that gut feeling is there and they struggle to reconcile it with what they "know" to be "true." And thus this story was born. The next chapter will be posted in a few days, hope you enjoy!

#cloti #cloud x tifa #cloud strife x tifa lockhart #cloud/tifa #cloud strife/tifa lockhart #crisis core #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #cloud #cloud strife #tifa #tifa lockhart #phoenix writes #phoenix-downer #long post #canon compliant #missing scene #slight angst #hurt/comfort #pining #mutual pining

[fantasticalleigh]

thoughts about the new rey movie and people’s reactions to the announcement

i was gonna reblog a post about this and just slide my opinion in the tags but it’s getting to be an essay so i think it warrants its own post

i’m not trying to attack anybody with this but this has been rampant since the announcement and i have thoughts:

i understand and share in the opinion that ben solo is a wasted character and that he (and TROS and the sequel trilogy in general) was severely mishandled, and i would not be sorry to see more of him. adam was one of the best things about this new trilogy. i was hardly a star wars fan until the day i went to see TFA on opening day. that experience was something i’ll never forget and i fell in love with kylo/ben and rey from the second they both appeared on screen during their respective intros. without them i don’t think i would enjoy SW the way i do now.

i’m so happy for daisy to have this new opportunity to continue rey’s story. She deserves it.

And before you chime in--yes, Ben deserves for his story to be continued, too. No one’s ever really gone, and all that. if he comes back i will be screaming on the way to the theaters with the rest of you.

but i have seen so many people state outright since the announcement that they refuse to watch the movie if ben isn’t coming back.

i understand that sentiment, i do--none of us want to get burned again TROS-style. we want to see the dyad together and alive and happy. we want lucasfilms to get a friggin grip and just--DO BETTER.

and remember, this is my opinion, but it rubs me the wrong way when people say they won’t watch the movie without ben (and i’ve seen it said over and over and over both here and on instagram) because it’s sort of implying that rey has no value without ben, like she is not interesting enough on her own.

now i don’t actually believe that’s what people mean when they say that (at least, not everybody) but that’s the feeling i get from it. i love rey and ben equally and so i’ll take any new content with them in it, even if they aren’t together. will it hurt? will it be bittersweet? yeah. but imagine if the new rey movie gets a really low turnout and then disney execs look at the numbers and go ‘hmm--let’s not do that again’ and then a new possible trilogy is cancelled or any chance we get of maybe a dyad reunion is also gone. bc we all know the mouse listens to money above all.

i love rey. i think she’s a great character who has just as much potential as ben and i can’t wait to see what she can do in a film where she’s top billing (until they throw in a mark hamill cameo because we all know he’ll be in it to some degree) but my point still stands. and daisy is a great actress who brought such depth to rey that i’m so excited to see her return and i can’t wait to see her as rey again.

do i still have a tiny bit of hope that it will be better this time and that ben will return? yes. i’m not gonna lie about it. this clown makeup is tattooed on. but it’s a cautious hope and i’m trying not to feed too much into it, because the reality is that it’s rey who’s back and i love her so i’m going to support her because i think she’s interesting and compelling on her own, just as she was in TFA before she ever met Kylo/Ben.

#star wars #leigh speaks #will i regret posting this? tune in to find out #reylo #rey nobody #ben solo #and i don't want to sound like a corporate shill for the mouse begging people to get their butts into seats #i just mean we gotta support our favorite characters/actors #so maybe lucasfilms/disney can see how much we love them and then they might make more content for them #they already failed us once #it makes me sad but i'm accepting that we might never see rey and ben together in any new content #i know there's adam stans who care mostly about him and you know what that's fine i'm mostly talking to reylos who love both of the #rey skywalker #also it's 2:26 am and i could have made this longer but i'm tired and should be asleep #but i've seen enough posts about this topic that i finally got annoyed enough to type the gist of it out #however it lands i hope lucasfilms/disney sees how badly the mishandled the dyad #from the merch to the marketing etc. #we all know they like to pretend the dyad never happened unless they're forced to #we've got a million and one t shirts of the motherfucking i love you i know quotes but not a single #item that i've seen featuring ben and rey together #except that loungefly bag that had them in chibi style #which isn't really my bag BUT it sold out fast and people LOVED IT #and disney still turns a blind eye #they just don't care and that's why i tell myself dyad reunion isn't gonna happen #anyway please discuss i will check in on this post in the morning but i need to sleep

[willowbrookmanor]

The Tailor

First story for these OCs I hope you enjoy

It was a cool Autumn evening and the town of Willowbrook was brimming with life. One of the wealthiest families in town was hosting an extravagant party and all were welcome to attend. There was just one rule: All in attendance must wear a mask.

The party has actually been the talk of the town since it was announced. The family that was hosting the party, the Dearden’s, are a notoriously reclusive family that aren’t known to leave their estate. Normally, any and all errands are run by their staff. Ever since the party was announced, rumours began circulating amongst the townsfolk about the reason for hosting a party, when no one aside from the staff has seen the family in over two decades.

Of all the rumours that were in circulation, two had taken a fairly big hold in the community. One was that the family was going to announce some kind of grand donation of their money, and the second was that it was going to be some kind of announcement regarding one of their three children. Either way, everyone was bustling about, getting ready for this masquerade event.

Elaine Dixon was one such person excitedly preparing for the party. As the daughter of the local tailor, she's been hard at work helping her mother and her father hem and alter the outfits the locals were bringing in so they'd look their best for the party. The uptick in business had been excellent for her family's finances. However the uptick in business also meant that Elaine had little time to work on her own outfit for the event.

While her family wasn’t hurting for money, they certainly didn’t have the money to purchase a brand new dress from one of the shops. Elaine’s father had given her permission to use fabric scraps that they would otherwise be throwing away for her dress. As unfortunate as it sounded, it worked out in her favor. A client that had ordered a custom outfit changed their mind on fabric at the last second, allowing Elaine to use the entire roll of discarded fabric to make her dress with. She decided to use the other fabric scraps to make accents.

It was the day before the party and Elaine had been in the back of the shop working on the finishing touches of her dress. She was keeping her ear open for the door as both her parents were currently out running other errands. She wasn't expecting any customers though because everyone that had asked for adjustments or custom made outfits had already picked up their things. Elaine was grateful for that because she didn't normally run the front of the shop. She normally stayed in the back to help sew the alterations.

“Um yes, I was hoping you could help me with something for the masquerade party?” The customer asked. Although the man standing just inside the door looked absolutely lost and unsure if he was in the correct place.

Elaine was busy sewing in some embroidery when she heard the bell that hung over the door ring. “I’ll be out in a moment.” She called as she carefully put her dress down in a way so it wouldn’t get wrinkled or anything. She then took the ribbon out of her hair, letting her dishwater blonde locks fall into her face. She preferred to have her hair up or better yet short, but her parents made her grow it out and they have a rule that she must have her hair down whenever dealing with customers so they wouldn’t be able to see the scar that runs from her right eye to her right ear.

“Goodmorning. Welcome to Dixon’s Tailoring, how can I help you today?” Elaine said as she entered the front of the shop.

“I’m sorry sir, but with the party being tomorrow, we are not taking any alteration requests because there won’t be enough time to get everything done.” Elaine was trying to figure out why someone would be looking to have their suit altered or even custom made the day before they needed it.

“Oh, um. It’s nothing like that. I’m in need of a tie, but the other shops don’t seem to have what I”m looking for. Would it be too much tro-trouble?” The man seemed to be absolutely timid. He was playing with his long black hair, as if not sure what he should be doing with his hands.

“How are the clothing shops not helpful? They should have a wide variety of ties.” Elaine found herself asking.

“It’s just th-that hehsieshhh, hihSTIeshh, HEHSTIESHHHH, sorry. It’s just that the clothing shops only seem to carry solid colored ties, and I’m looking for some kind of pattern. One of the owners recommended I come here.” The man sniffled before pulling a floral handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed at his nose.

“I suppose that could be doable. What kind of pattern are you looking for?” In all honesty they too primarily only had solid color fabrics in stock. They had maybe two or three rolls of patterned fabric in stock that seldomly got used. Otherwise it was a special order for a client that asked for it in advance. If they’re lucky, she might be able to use fabric scraps. Elaine wasn’t all that confident that she’d be able to help this timid man.

“I was hoping for something animalistic or aviary. Aviary would be better if I have to be honest.” The man sniffled again. “If you’re unable to help me, that’s fine. It’s a long shot anyway. Sorry for bothering you.” The man said a little too quickly as he began to turn around.

“Sir.” Elaine said, causing the man to freeze. “I actually have some options available that you can look at. Just give me a moment.” Elaine disappeared to the back room and quickly found the fabrics she was looking for. They were both around three feet of fabric that were left over from orders that were unrelated to the party. She brought them back to the front.

“Alright sir, I have these two bird themed fabrics.” She showed the fabrics to the man. The first one was cream colored with black and white birds perched on branches. The second was a very colorful peacock feather pattern.

“I know it’s not a whole lot of fabric, but since you’re just looking for a tie, I should have plenty regardless of which pattern you choose.” It’s the truth. Elaine didn’t have enough of either fabric to really make anything, but she could definitely make a tie.

“If it’s not too much trouble and it’s not too short of notice, could you make a tie with the black and white birds please?” Elaine nodded as she began to write down the order into the shop’s book.

“A-also if it’s not t-too much to ask, would you be wil-hehstieshhh, hehSTIeshhh, HEHSTIESHHH. Oh bother. Excuse me.” The man quickly stepped outside the shop, causing the bell to ring. Elaine watched as he pulled out his floral handkerchief and he blew his nose. The man re-entered and looked utterly embarrassed.

“Sorry about that. I was wondering if I could also have a few squares of the other pattern as well. I like how the color pops.”

“Certainly sir. For the silk underside of your tie, would you like a certain color?” The man nodded and selected baby blue. He also asked if there was any royal purple fabric that could be paired with the other fabric. The answer was yes.

“Um, my name, is um Emmett.” The man, Emmett said, still completely timid. On his way out, he sneezed again, and his long hair whipped to the front of his face causing him to have to fix it before he could attend to his nose. Elaine grabbed the fabrics and returned to the back to get started on her next order.

“Alright sir, I think I can have this order ready for you by this evening or tomorrow morning. Which would you prefer?”

“This evening would be preferable.” The man once again sniffled and he brought his floral kerchief out of his breast pocket again to dab at nose, which was slowly turning pinker and pinker.

“Excellent sir, Now I just need a name for your order.”

#snzfic #willowbrook manor #sneeze #snz

[sasukesun]

Hai Bella....

When I was in elementary school I thought kissing the same gender was not a problem. What society thought me was "the women must be with men & men must be with women". So if you are kissing mlm or wlw it's not going to be a problm. And at that time... I don't know about lgbtq+. I had a kissing partner in 5th or 6th grade or something. Her cousin was in an 'all girls school' and she was taught that girls kiss each other. So She and her cousin kissed too. Then she found me and I'm not that curious but I kissed her and then we became kissing buddies. But no one knows about it, only us. We were always in situations where someone was going to see what we were doing. When we were alone she was very clingy and beckoned me to kiss her with her seductive eyes.... She was really really into it. I also became curious to explore her body and I did but did not continued (still I don't know how I got into that situation when I was just a kid back then). She only needs me when she wants to pleasure herself. And I don't like what we do it unpleasant to me. After that I took the initiative and ended our relationship. We still talk to each other like we used to. (She is now married after 5 years of relationship with her boyfriend). I dont know... thinking about her reactions back then... Was it only because of her curiosity that she kissed another girl?.

Then....Slowly slowly I also came to notice that I actually likes girls too. My grandmother yelled at me when she caught me watching a wlw album. I love it and want to share it with my friend about the album. But before I could say anything, she started talking about the album. I was so happy when she said she saw the new album that was released. I was still smiling during the conversation. Suddenly I heard her say that the way the girls acted on the album was so disgusting. Her expression clearly showed how disgusted she was. I was completely shattered. I dont know what to do. I became silent my voice didn't came out and painfully agreed with her while I'm exceedingly hurts inside.

I'm attracted to both men & women. I dated in high school and I liked the kiss we share but I am uncomfortable with him when he wanted more from me. Then we broke up. After that I give it a try again but same thing happened I don't like it. I cried what the fuck is wrong with me?! What they wanted isn't something what I wanted. I don't like this! I love kissing but I can't cooperate with physical touch. Then, I felt a crush on a girl in my college for the first time. But that's it.... I crushed the crush I felt for her cuz I know I dont really like being in a relationship. I cried a lot at that time thinking what she would think if she knew I had a crush on her. Maybe she thinks I'm weird?. And also...I quickly loss interest in things. I'm uncomfortable with my body too. I can't bring myself to have sex. I don't know who I am?

i said this to the other anon, but i’m gonna say it to you as well, there is nothing wrong with you, there’s nothing wrong of not wanting to have sex or not thinking you can do it and, especially, there is nothing wrong with not knowing who you are. what is “wrong” is forcing yourself into doing something you aren’t comfortable with, because this isn’t a case of simply getting out of your comfort zone, it’s just putting yourself in a situation you don’t want to participate in, that you know you don’t like, and it involves another person. people won’t always want the same things in a relationship, sometimes you can work that out, but sometimes you can’t, no point in forcing yourself or someone else into things you don’t want to do, it will only bring you unhappiness and even trauma. i do like sex, but i won’t force myself into doing it with someone i don’t want to, i have done that before and it only made me hate myself.

now, about struggling with homphobia/biphobia inside your own family, it’s hard and it hurts like hell, i consider my family accepting enough, but i had trouble with my own parents when i outed myself as bi, it’s something i still have trauma about, and i can consider myself privileged for the relationship i have with my parents, they love me deeply, they have worked hard to make our lives comfortable, but especially mine, they still do, but, like i said, sometimes family can hurt us the most. the most important thing is your safety, i know it will hurt, but don’t expose yourself if you can’t be safe.

#ask #anonymous

[opinated-user]

For anyone else on Earth, looking at art drawn by TWO artists who used CSEM as references (including one who hurt her own son), having massive porn accounts full of the most realistic shota and loli on the face of this planet, misgendering every trans and nonbinary person she encounters, calling queer people cishet if she doesn't like them, hating a Jewish nonbinary cartoon creator and likening her to a Nazi, overlooking antisemitism in Harley Quinn, writing a black OC whose mom is a slave trader who goes on to wed a trafficking victim of her mother's and completely control her life/use her as childcare and ship repair, making the Tooncritic situation worse allowing an actual pedophile to walk free, having her Gardevoir OC violate a human child, writing incest and murder and pedophilia and rape, coercing people into sexual art and acts they were uncomfortable with, stealing art, stealing jokes, having her audience dogpile people, accusing her audience and haters alike of wanting to fuck or rape her, flashing children suddenly on stream, and lying chronically about everything from catching covid 3 times to her race to faking entire people would be enough to get her deplatformed.

I've seen people get deplatformed for any single one of these things.

Why the fuck does Lily glide by without any lengthy comprehensive video or massive Lily exposed video essay? Why is it always, at most, a video that goes over one thing she did or one person she hurt? Why does no one ever talk about the people whose existence she faked or the porn accounts or the racefaking or any other number of things she's done?

Maybe if someone did a cold, calm TRO style video about all the shit Lily's done with all the receipts we'd get somewhere. But instead videos are made about, at most, two things she's done, without the piles of evidence for all the other things, and then everyone argues about a word possibly being misused as if that's going to help things.

If I had any money to my name I would buy equipment and make a documentary length video on everything she has done. Instead I have to sit here as a Jewish CSA victim knowing she can endorse Nazis and support an artist who assaulted a two year old and know that at most those things will get 4-10 reblogs on tumblr rather than her getting dragged and deplatformed away from minors she can hurt.

I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired. The fact that not one person even seems to care enough to try to cover even a fraction of her shit is exhausting. It takes me right back to childhood and being told what my abuser did wasn't serious because she's a girl and girls aren't bad like boys are.

Can someone please hold this woman to account? The evidence is all over the place. The job is halfway done for you. Someone, anyone, please do something significant to deplatform her.

At this rate the only way she'll be deplatformed is if she abuses a child herself, and only if it's in a way the authorities bother to give a shit about. Again: I am so tired. No one gives a damn about people like me, either in the sense of giving a damn about CSA survivors or Jewish people. No one cares. No one has ever cared. I wish I'd died when I was a kid and my abuser used to choke me, I really do.

making the Tooncritic situation worse allowing an actual pedophile to walk free

(i have to clarify that i was wrong about that. on this post segasister is kind enough to explain better the situation. LO actually had nothing to do with the investigation one way or another. she did took advantage of it and made it seem like she was the hero when that wasn't true, but she didn't made it worse either like i assumed so.) anon, please don't think of it that way. i know it's disheartening and dissapointing that all of this doesn't recieve as much attention as we'd all like, but at least is recieving some attention now. it was a lot worse just a few years back. things are changing slowly but they're doing it and for the better. LO might never get the TRO's style documentary that other figures got, but she's slowly fading into irrelevancy and that is what matters because it means less people she can hurt. i'm so sorry for everything that has happened to you. if LO and the discourse around her makes you feel that way, i recommend taking a break, find your support system and try to forget about this for a while. your wellbeing and mental health is more important that LO and anything she could do or say.

#tw: csa #tw: antisemitism #lily orchard

[coalcreek50]

Ten Quick Etiquette Strategies For Business Lunches

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#vitamin

[multifandomfanfiction]

Sink Your Teeth into Forever Chapter 8

TITLE: Sink Your Teeth Into Forever Chapter 8 PAIRING: No Pairing (For now) RATING: M CHAPTER: 8/? SUMMARY: Eleanor “Elle/Ellie” is a human girl raised by vampires. Godric and his nest to be exact. She was left on Godric’s doorstep as a baby. She’s not quite human though. When Godric goes missing, his mysterious progeny Eric Northman shows up to help. Elle has never met Eric before and Eric has never heard his Maker speak about Elle. Will these two get along? Or will Eric’s jealousy get the better of him?

[A/N - I know that Eric and Godric are technically speaking Norse and not modern day Swedish.]

They reached the roof and Godric pulled away from Elle.

She tried to reach for him again, but he stepped out of her reach.

Godric kept backing up until he reached the center of the roof.

Eric and Sookie soon joined them.

“Two thousand years is enough,” Godric told his children.

“I can’t accept this, it’s insanity,” Eric said.

“Our existence is insanity. We don’t belong here.”

“But we are here!”

“It’s not right. We’re not right.”

“You taught me there is no right and wrong. Only survival or death.”

“I told a lie, as it turns out.” Godric had made many mistakes when raising Eric. Mistakes he was careful to not repeat with Elle.

“I will keep you alive by force.”

“Even if you could, why would you be so cruel?”

Bloody tears filled Eric’s eyes. “Godric, gör det inte (Godric, don’t do it.).”

“Det finns århundraden av tro och kärlek mellan oss (There are centuries of faith and love between us.).”

Eric sobbed and collapsed to his knees. “Snälla, snälla. Snälla, Godric. (Please, please. Please, Godric.).”

“Far, bror, son (Father, brother, son). Let me go.”

“I won’t let you die alone.”

Elle’s heart was shattering in her chest. If Eric and Godric met the True Death, she would be alone in this world.

“Yes, you will.”

Eric continued to cry as Godric put his hand on Eric’s neck. Godric tilted Eric’s head back to look him in the eyes.

“As your Maker, I command you.”

Eric rose to his feet and slowly walked back towards the entrance to the roof.

The sun was coming up quickly.

Godric turned to his youngest child. His Eleanor.

She threw her arms around him.

“Little one, let me go,” Godric told her.

Elle shook her head and tightened her arms around him.

“You and Eric will have each other.”

Elle’s life was nothing without Godric. She didn’t want to live without him. In all of her 20 years, Elle had never spoken a word, until this moment.

“Snälla, far. Snälla gör inte det här. Lämna mig inte ensam i denna värld (Please father. Please don’t this. Don’t leave me alone in the world,” she squeaked out.

Godric stared down at her in amazement and soon they were standing in the hallway. Hearing her call him “father” had snapped him out his suicidal ideation.

Eric met them in the hallway.

Elle walked up to Eric and took his hands in hers. “Hello, Eric.”

Her voice matched her appearance. It was soft and airy, but sounded like bells. Like her laugh.

“You speak now?” Eric asked her.

Elle shook her head and touched her throat.

“It hurts?”

Elle nodded.

“Apparently, it takes great effort for her to speak,” Godric said, “I have tried all manner of speech therapies in the past, but they do not work.”

“Have you tried your blood?” Eric found it peculiar that she was able to speak after ingesting his blood.

Elle shook her head.

A trail blood was leaking from Eric’s ear.

She reached up and touched it.

“We must rest,” Godric told them.

Godric and Elle returned to their room, but Elle’s eyes lingered on Eric as he returned to his own room.

“Come, my sweet. You will see Eric tomorrow.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next evening, Elle got out of bed to find that Godric had already risen. She could hear another deep voice, so she figured that Eric was up as well.

She went into the living room and walked over to the suite’s mini-kitchen to get herself a bowl of cereal. Elle opened the cabinet and stood up on her tip-toes to reach the cereal.

Eric’s fangs descended with a click.

Godric growled as Eric smiled wolfishly.

Elle felt two hands grab her by the waist and lift her up. She grabbed the cereal and Eric set her down.

“You might want to rethink your breakfast choice. Don’t want to ruin your girlish figure.” Eric poked her in the side.

Elle whacked him with the cereal box as he laughed.

Godric smiled seeing the two interact.

Elle made her bowl of cereal and sat down on the couch. Eric sat back down and picked Elle’s legs up and set them in his lap.

“Where will you go?” Eric asked Godric.

“I do not know, my child.”

“You’re always welcome in Shreveport. Pam will be please to see you again.”

Elle looked at Eric confused.

“Pam is my progeny.”

Elle looked at Godric and nodded.

“You are welcome to go with Eric,” Godric said, “It might do well for you two to bond some more.”

Elle’s heart rate went through the roof and she collapsed at Godric’s feet. She pressed her forehead to his knees and shook her head as tears started to fall from her eyes.

Godric leaned forward and took her face in his hands. “You do not need to worry about me, my child. I will not be leaving you anytime soon.”

She sniffled and wrapped her arms around his legs. Godric stroked her hair.

“Godric…” Eric said.

“We will speak of this later.”

Eric knew that he meant once Elle had calmed down, he would send her to the bedroom to rest while they carried on talking.

#godric #godric (trueblood) #godric imagines #eric northman #eric northman imagines #true blood #true blood imagines #true blood fanfiction

[internalsealpanic]

Sealing the Deal part 2

Summary:  Dick has a perfectly reasonable idea.

a/n: There will probably be more parts to this since you people gave me so many ideas but for now here is some soft smut. Did I finish this just in time for the end of mermay? Yes.

warning: Attempt at soft smut

Main Masterlist

Part 1

"Let's get married."

 It takes around a minute for you to even register the fact that Dick had even said anything at all and another to parse out the meaning behind his words. You look up from the piece you've been slaving over for hours while Dick dozed on your lap. 

 "Let's get married." He repeats earnestly. 

 You narrow your eyes at him. You... clearly missed at least 2 diatribes and 40% of this conversation. "Uh Dickie, my love, did I miss the part where you divorced me or did I sleep through it like I did when Wally was preaching about raw fish?" You set your tools down and pull his pelt more tightly around you, feeling oddly protective of it. 

 Seeing you wrapped up in his pelt never failed to make Dick's chest flutter; unfortunately, he had to focus on the matter at hand. "As I was saying, we're married but not in the human way. "

 "Ah- Yeah, I see that but.. that seems entirely unnecessary." 

 "There's no harm in it." Dick says, looking at you with big hopeful eyes. No matter whether it’s his liquid seal eyes or his bright baby blues, you’re still a sucker. 

 He is definitely up to something. Dick always uses that look when he really wants something and you can already feel yourself falling for it. Who thought giving this man the cutest face in the world was a good idea? Who?! You sigh. Spousal homicide is a bad idea, you tell yourself. 

 "You're so lucky you're terribly cute," you huff, "you're also lucky that there's a ferry coming tomorrow."

 You mentally calculate how much time the whole trip would take but you know all that arithmetic is useless when you hazard a look at your husband.  Dick beams, dimples appear at the corners of his mouth, and makes the happiest little noises.

  You lean over the railing, watching the sea and feeling the wind comb through your hair. A pair of arms wraps around you making you squeak. 

 Dick buries his face in your hair and he sweeps you into his arms. "How's the most beautiful creature in the world?"

 "Dunno Dick, how are you?" You smile.

 Dick sniffles. "You're not allowed to be this cute."

 "Hypocrite." You laugh wrapping your arms around him. 

 He nudges his face against yours. 

 "Are you liking your first boat ride?"

 "I could still swim faster." Dick hums.

 You roll your eyes. "Sadly for us, I can't."

 "It's ok," he says, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear," it just means you can't escape me on this boat."

 "Pfffft!"

 "You're saying that now but look who I have in my hold." He chuckles, lips brushing against your neck.

 "We're in public you dork!" You squeal.

 "And?"

 You sigh."You just like embarrassing me."

 "Yup. Just ask Jaso- What's that?!" Dick says pointing to a statue on the shore. It was tall and proud with hair cascading down like a waterfall with a visage as hard as the rock it's carved on. You narrow your eyes trying to recall what the local told your father when you were younger.

 "Oh, it's... It's a sea goddess I believe or maybe a selkie." You shrug at Dick who looks at it in awe. You supposed this is the first time he's seen a statue that big.

 "I thought you said the people on the mainland didn't believe in selkies?"

 "Er... ok, so there are mainlanders who are more inland where I come from and there's people near the sea. No, there are more divisions than that but- Ok, so the place where I came from the sea wasn't as important but here it is so they probably have more folk tales."

 "I guess that makes sense," Dick says burying his face in your hair. "Did you have any folk tales?"

 "Some but it was mostly cautionary about maidens being stolen away."

 "Guess you didn't listen to them, huh?" he says, "did they say anything about stealing hearts?" Dick winks one of those winks that only he could make cute. 

 You huff into your scarf.  "More about eating them, I think."

 "I can do that if you want." He smirks cheekily.

You pat his cheek, trying to be as irritatingly condescending as possible.  "You're still not scary."

 Dick takes your hand in his and brings it closer to his lips. He pretends to bite at your fingers, his sharp canines dragging along the skin and nipping at the joints.  "It’s because I love you so much."

 Dick alternates between gawking at perfectly common sights like large cargo ships and flocks of sheep on the cliff and teasing the life out of you for the rest of the ferry ride. 

 You are the tiniest bit mortified that several passengers have seen your husband drag his teeth over your skin and toss you in the air for the fun of it. Dick was horrible at keeping a low profile. Not that acting reserved would have mattered anyway given how everyone's eyes were always drawn to him. 

 You can't blame them, his laughter is infectious and his smile was enough to make the gloomy morning look like a bright summer afternoon.  You really really don't blame them for gawking but you just wish they wouldn't.

Not even fifteen minutes onshore and you're reminded why you only ever went into town with your father. Being meek by nature, you're often the target for unruly sailors. It never got too bad, not enough for you to call the cops at least. You would be lying if you wish it wasn't such a common occurrence to have some random guy shove his hand down your back pocket and squeezes your ass. 

 You jump, nearly dropping the little map of shops your father had drawn for you a while ago. A man passes behind you snickering quietly and yeah, knocking his teeth in would be amazing.

 "Hey buddy, do you mind apologizing?" Dick asks, his voice dangerously pleasant. 

 There's a gnawing sense of foreboding forming in your stomach. It squirms in your gut until you grab Dick's sleeve. "Dick," you hiss, "it's not worth it."

 You'd looked at the man and sadly, it really wasn't worth getting Dick's face punched in on his first visit to the mainland. You don't think anything worth getting Dick hurt.

 The men turn back to your and the dread in your stomach solidifies. Even your dad was never dumb enough to piss off sailors especially ones built like I train would be dented when hitting them. 

 "I don't see the problem, pretty boy," the man spits like he'd said the word fungus, "The lass doesn't have a problem with it, do you?" He leers at you. It makes your skin crawl.  He steps closer, invading your space, and places a hand on your shoulder. "This lassy here and I go waaaay back." He says, sliding his hand down your arm. You have absolutely no doubt that this man is sloshed because you have never seen him before in your life. You are pretty plain, so that makes sense but yeah, this is the first time you've seen his mug.

 "A lass like you shouldn't be dressing like that if you know what's good for you."You open your mouth to protest but only manage to tighten your grip on Dick's sleeve.

 There's a split second between Dick flickering his eyes to you and the satisfying sound of a fist making contact with a jaw. The man falls to the ground narrowly avoiding smashing his head into the cobblestones.

 "Get up and apologize to her." Dick growls, teeth bared.  He pushes forward. You're about as stunned as the man on the ground. Dick's poised for a fight and you have no doubt he'll have no problem getting into a row. You need to stop Dick from doing anything stupid. You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing your eyes shut.  You bury your face into his coat.  You want to tell him that it's fine, that you're used to things like this, that you don't want him to get hurt. This whole thing isn't worth him getting hurt. You're not worth him getting hurt.  But the only thing you can manage is a weak "It's not worth it."

 Dick squeezes your hand. You're trembling and Dick feels awful for scaring you but he doesn't stop glaring at the man. He guesses he's made his point loud and clear. He softens a fraction, maneuvering you to his side and wrapping an arm around you. There's still a snarl caught in the back of his throat but contrary to popular belief, Dick isn't hot-headed enough to ignore you. All he wants to do now is get you to safety. 

 You squeeze him with your arms, your face still scrunched as if bracing for impact. "Let's go shopping for those rings, yeah?"

 Dick sighs with an indulgent smile. "Ok, honey."  He kisses the crown of your head. "I love you, I’m sorry."

 "Don’t be sorry," you say, snuggling tighter into him. "You know I only want you and--” That wasn’t even the point. You are really bad at this. “--and you really should be more careful. What if you got hurt?"

 "Did you miss that killer right hook? He sure didn't."

 A small smile shapes your lips. "Moron."

 "Still love me though." He says, bringing your knuckle to his lips.

 You shake your head. "It's unfortunate really."

 "You know the more time I spend here the less I believe the fact that you didn't know what selkies were," Dick says holding up another seal necklace.

 You look at him, wince at the bruise blooming on his knuckle but continue. "My dad and I went into town twice a year and they were only ever day trips." You say, setting down a cheap shot glass with a blubbering seal. It wasn't strictly a lie. It was more of a guesstimate. You look away from him and mumble a "I thought they were called Setties."

 Dick snorts loudly and you have a heart attack thinking he reverted back to his seal form. "Setties?" He snorts again and you think he's gonna suck in all the dust from the store. 

 "Yes, Setties." You repeat grumpily, "I was 7. Cut me some slack!"

 "When have I ever cut you some slack?"

 "Never."

 "Mhm, exactly."

 "Why do I love you again?" 

 "Because I'm the cutest person, you know?" 

 "I dunno, Dickie." You drawl, picking up a couple of little seal stuffed toys. They were cute with their round faces and distended bodies. Their black eyes didn't quite do justice to your favorite trouble maker but they're close enough in huggableness."These little guys could give you a run for your money."

 Dick makes an affronted squawk. You hold them to Dick's face for inspection and ask: "Should we buy the black one or the white one?" Truly, a matter of life and death. 

 Dick scrunches his face in thought. "The black one obviously."

 "But the white one looks cute too." You whine. 

 Dick gives you a grumpy pout. You ignore him.  "Why don’t we get both?"

 Dick crosses his arms. "Why-"

 "Yanno... A pair like us..." You say, pulling them closer to your chest and looking up at him hopefully. 

 Dick looks at you wearily. "How could I argue against such a solid argument?"  Dick says, tousling your already windswept locks.

 "What do you think I’d look like as a seal?" You ask absently as you exit the store. You'd managed to drive the price down with a little haggling and a bit of distraction from Dick.

 "Beautiful."

 You grin at him.  "Again buttering me up won't make me buy you more sweets."

 "I can think of other things to eat." Dick says, his pink tongue darting over his lips as he looks at you. 

 You swallow, mouth feeling dry. Dick is horrible to you today.

The old antique shop was dustier than you remembered. Part of you suspects that the particles sprinkled on all the shelves is in fact just the old owner's cremated remains but you don't really wanna find out if it's true.

 You comb through the shelves, feeling like a pirate in search of treasure. The expensive rings with their big rind stones were stowed away on a shelf behind the shopkeeper but everyone one knows that if you want the good stuff you have to search for it yourself. 

 Dick seems to be happy looking through all the strange knickknacks, so you carry on. 

 You nearly squeal with glee when you find a ring. It was a band of silver carved into the shape of a seal curling in on itself as it slumbers. You smile holding it close to your chest.  "Give me your finger." 

 "That... is a very strange way to put it."

 "Just give me your hand." You say holding out your own.  Dick, still incredulous, puts his hand in yours. You bite back a smile as you put the ring on his ring finger. Your lips stretch even as you dig your teeth in. It was a good fit. You're embarrassed to say you were bouncing on your heel with excitement.The silver looks lovely against his tanned skin. 

 Dick inspects it.  "And you said subtlety wasn't my element."

 "It really isn't," you say, smiling down at his hand. "But I never did say it was mine either." You could easily find another ring if he doesn't like it but you're quietly hoping he does. You try not to watch his face, not read too deeply into his expressions. 

 "I like it. Let's try to find a matching one."

Much to your amusement, you did find something but it's.... You snort as you put it on. 

 "It kind of matches." Dick says wearily. 

 "It's a fish." You laugh.

 "Um... it's a pretty silver fish."

 "Absolutely ravishing, huh?"

 "Exactly like my wife." Dick says, nipping at your ear. 

 Your ear burns and you cover it hastily.  

 "Let's just go pay for them." You say, shoving at him lightly.

 "So you do like it?" He asks, peaking through your fingers. 

 "Yes, you dork. Now, stop being cute." You say, shoving him again. 

 "Never." He chuckles.

"Is this the statue from the harbor?" Dick asks, poking at the little replica on the shopkeep's counter. 

 "Aye lad, the natives worshiped the sea before we came along. Kooky fellows but they knew a thing or two about the sea. They even talked about the selkie. Those blood-thirsty women folk of the sea. "

 Dick scrunches his nose. You press the heel of your palm to your lips holding back a laugh.

 "Well, I’ve heard some different of stories." Dick says, leaning into the counter, his eyes shining mischievously. 

 The old shopkeep leans in, looking around. "Like what?"

 Dick leans in a bit more, his voice hushed and conspiratorial.  "I hear they try to trap fair maidens into marriage to bear children for them."

 Dick winks unabashedly. You flush. "What?!"

 "C'mon lad," the shopkeeper snorted like a walrus, "we all know that all selkies are women folk."

 "That’s the thing," Dick says, resting his hands on his intertwined fingers. He grins. "I’ve been out at sea a while, my whole family has aaaaand," he drawls in his other voice. The shopkeep looks entranced.  "We've heard of different tales." 

 "Do tell."

 "My family have heard tales of male selkies, those who seek women to carry on the selkie way." Dick pushes off the counter, spinning around on his heel theatrically. "We heard of old lore when they used to kidnap unsuspecting women by the sea shore." You vaguely recall this version but it seemed like ages ago.  "But now," he says, stepping closer to you. "Now, they are much more persuasive." Dick winks at you and you resist the urge to elbow him.

 "I also heard they're quite persistent." You say, leaning against him. 

 "Quite." Dick says a little too fondly. 

 "Hnnn, never heard that one." The shopkeep says tilting his head. "Do you have anymore?"

 "Oh, I have a ton of seafaring stories if you'd like. I’ve heard stories about the Cthulhu."

 "Cthulhu?"

 "The great horror of the deep."

 "The only horror here is the lack of treasure chests." The shopkeep huffs. You would be inclined to agree if Tim and Damian weren't so good at finding them.

 "Oh this is no tall-tale my friend," Dick says, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders, "we heard that he awakes once every 10 years to roam the deep seas. Why do you think boats go missing with no trace?"

 Monsoons, you think.

 "Like that submarine last summer!" 

 Dick nods sagely "Exactly."

 You want to slap your palm against your forehead. There is no way he can believe that hokey, right? ... You are literally married to a selkie. Do you really have any room for skepticism? You sigh. You suppose not. 

"The sea is a mysterious maiden just like those sires. A tricky bunch, slippery and smart not like mermaids."

 "Have you ever heard one?!" The shopkeep nearly folds over the counter.

 "Once when I’d been at sea for 4 months, I heard the most beautiful song in my life, kind of like a mirage but it was a misty night at sea."

 The shopkeeper gasps. 

 You blink. This is news to you.

 "Luckily, my father pulled me from the towboat before I set off towards it."  You try to imagine it and somehow it's funnier than the idea of Dick being bloodthirsty.

 Dick regails Bruce's spat with a sea witch and Alfred's horrifying tale with a kraken. Even you were enthralled by all his tales. Having the shopkeep thoroughly wrapped around his finger. He leans in close again. "Sorry, I got so lost. How much were these rings again?"

 The man blinks as if resurfacing from a trance. "A sea-loving man like you? You can keep it for five coffers."

 You gape at him, eyes blown wide.  That’s less than what you pay for bread. 

 The man turns to you. "Lass, you better keep an eye on him. This one belongs to the sea."

 He's... not wrong. 

 "You really are too kind," Dick says handing the money over. 

 "Anytime lad. Feel free to come back with more of your stories!" He calls out as you two walk out the door.

“Since when were you a sailor?” You ask, nudging your shoulder against his.

 “Since Jay told me stories.” He answers, nudging back. 

 “So they were all made up?” You ask, shaking his arm.

 Dick hums noncommittally.

  You frown at him. “C’mon fess up, pup.” 

 “Not *all* of them. I just spiced up the truth, that’s all.”

 “The sirens?”

Dick freezes. 

“Wait, are sirens real?” You gape, pounding your hand on his chest. 

 “Well, kinda.”

 “Kinda?!”

 Dick walks ahead of you trying to avoid your question. He does the mature thing and plugs his ears with his fingers. You continue to pester him all the way down the street. 

 The scent from the bakery wafted in the air calling to both of you as you two continue to bicker. Your stomachs cry out in a chorus. You look at your watch. You knew you'd forgotten something. 

 "I'll get us something to eat," Dick says, clearly staring at the cupcakes. Getting cupcakes wouldn't hurt. It would be better than getting an actual wedding cake. 

 You shake your head. "I might sit for a bit." You say handing him your purse and wrenching the bags from his grip. He huffs but doesn't complain. 

 You park yourself on a bench just outside the bakery. Going to town is just as exhausting as you remember it being. You lull your head back, looking to the sky. What are the odds that it's safe to just doze off here on the bench? Probably pretty low.

 Dick watches you from a window, snickering. You were so cute when you're nodding off.  He should probably ask if they sell coffee too because you look like you're going to need the entire pot.

 He lets a woman go in front of him because Alfred taught him manners and not because he was delighted to see you nearly fold into your shopping bags. You startle and yelp then straighten up. Great seas, you're so cute.

 "Hey handsome, can I get a name?"

 Dick turns to the woman with an amicable smile. "Oh, the name's Dick."

"I'm ..." Dick is barely paying attention when he sees you take out one of the rings you'd bought with a stupidly happy smile on your face as you try it on. You look up at your hand and Dick can't help the twitch of his mouth. 

 You wave to him, feeling his eyes on you. He waves back with a thousand-watt smile. 

 There's a hand sprawled on his chest. "I've never seen you here before." The woman purrs. Dick steps back, feeling a bit uncomfortable. 

 "I'm from out of town-"

 "That explains it." She says, batting her eyes. 

 Dick's not too concerned, not when you've just disappeared from his sight. Dick's about to run outside when he feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist. 

 "My husband and I are just here for a day trip to run some errands." You huff glaring at the woman.

 Dick wraps an arm around you, chuckling at the priceless expression on your face. 

 "Dickie, did you want to introduce me?" You ask sweetly.

 "Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name." Dick says, feeling genuinely bad because he really wasn't paying attention.  In his defense, you were distracting him. 

 "I'm Mia."

 "I'm (Y/n)." You say trying not to puff your cheeks. You clearly just want the woman to go away.

 Dick wants to pinch you for being so cute. The disgustingly sweet aura you two radiate was enough to make the woman go away. Much to your relief and Dick's amusement.  Dick lets himself sink into your embrace.

 Dick pinches your cheek as you get the bread from the counter. You swat his hand away with a loaf of slightly stale bread you were gonna rework later. "What?!"

 "Nothing, you're just so damn cute, honey." Dick laughs, pinching your cheek again.

 "Says the dork who punched someone." You say, pecking him on the lips. 

 Dick rolls his eyes. "He totally deserved it." 

 "Sure, sure."

 Ok, he did.

 Dick pecks your lips. "Let's go find you a bouquet and a minister so you can keep that ring on."

 You flush not noticing that you haven't taken the ring off. Dick looks down at you like he's the luckiest man in the world.

“Will it still make you happy?” Dick asks, fidgeting in front of the courthouse. 

 You raise a brow at him prompting him to elaborate. 

 “Getting married without a proper ceremony, I mean.”

 Ah. You clutch the bouquet of cornflowers to your chest, twining your finger with his. “As long as I have you it’ll be perfect.”

 Dick sniffles. “Stop saying things like that.”

 “You started~”

 Dick presses his forehead against your, letting out a low trill. “I can’t wait to sign on the paper and make you my wife. Officially.”

 You nudge your nose against his. “I can’t wait either.”

The minister looks between the two of you suspiciously, probably looking for signs of which one of you suggested eloping. “You may now say your vows.” 

 Dick takes out a crumpled sheet of paper with yellowing edges. In a cool crisp voice, he begins to speak:

 “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

 The wind rises in your chest, tears welling up in your eyes. You try to keep yourself together.

 “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hope, always perseveres.”

 You cup your hand over your mouth, your father’s words coming to life through Dick’s voice.  

 “Love never fails.”

 Dick reaches out to you, wiping the tears running down your face. You don’t know if Dick knows how much that meant to you but you’re endlessly thankful. 

 You feel flush. You’re not really sure you could follow that up. God, you really should have prepared more. You take a deep breath and will yourself not to turn tail and run. 

 Set me as a seal upon your heart,

as a seal upon your arm;

for love is strong as death,

passion fierce as the grave.

Its flashes are flashes of fire,

a raging flame.

Many waters cannot quench love,

neither can floods drown it.

If one offered for love

all the wealth of one’s house,

it would be utterly scorned.

 Dick looks at you, fondness curving his lips. You smile back at him sheepishly. 

The minister clears his throat. “You may now kiss the bride.”

 Dick picks you up and spins you around then brings you close to kiss you. You giggle at his theatrics. In the corner of your vision, you could see the minister just looking extremely tired. 

 “Give me the bouquet.”

 You don’t mainly because you have a policy of making people explain things before you do anything and also because you were hoping to throw the bouquet yourself. 

 Dick tilts his head. “Uh, give me two.” He pauses. “Please?” “Will you promise me this won’t curse anyone?”

 “Just because my dad’s girlfriend is a sea witch does not mean I curse people.”

 “And you feel absolutely no need to unpack that, huh?”

 “Sweetie, pleeeeeease.” He gives you the big eyes and you silently wonder how selkie divorce works. 

 You hand him two flowers. He pinches off the stems and says: “Hold out your hands.”

 “Can I at least know what kind of ungodly ritual my husband is suckering me into?” You huff as he puts one of the cornflowers in your palms. 

 “It’s more superstition really. My mom used to say that if you tell a flower about your love for someone and let the sea carry it away, then your love will be able to weather storms.”

 You want to tell him that based on the stories the sea had nothing to do with the ferocity of his parent’s love  but when you look back into the glitter of nostalgia in his eyes you know that there is nothing for it. 

 You hold the cornflower close, whispering promises to it, an endless litany of devotions that you hope only the sea will hear. Dick beside you does much the same with regular pauses and additions to his. When you’re both finished, you let the flowers fall harmlessly into the water and watch them, despite all odds, drift together in the ocean.  

  Dick nuzzles you into the floor. You lay flat on his pelt as Dick hovers over you. He kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. You hum and slide your hands up his back and part your lips to give him access. Dick pulls away, dragging his lips down your face. His teeth graze on the skin of your neck. Feeling ticklish, you giggle. He smiles pressing another wet kiss to your skin before pulling back. You whine already missing the close contact. 

 "I think we forgot something." Dick says, gently grasping your wrist and kissing it. 

 You furrow your brow. You play with his hair as you try to think. "Pretty sure we did everything," you mumble. You shiver when you feel Dick's teeth catch on your pulse, his luminescent eyes staring at you intently. "I'm telling you, sweetheart, you're forgetting something."

 You groan. It would be easier to think if Dick's lips weren't on your skin. "We've gotten the rings, thrown the rice, and hit Wally in the head with the bouquet..." You bite back a squeak when Dick sucks a hickey onto your wrist. 

 "Getting warmer, darling."

 You flush. You try to control your breathing but your skin feels so hot against his. You and Dick have met with a minister and he's also carried you over the threshold... All that's left is...

 You can feel Dick's hand slide up your shirt, his hand warm against your chilly skin. "Consummation." You whisper, swallowing thickly. 

 Dick's eyes are bright and mischievous in the firelight.  "Bingo." He lets go of your wrist and lowers himself to press a hungry kiss on your lips; it was all tongue and teeth as his hips move against yours. He pinches your nipples between his fingers drawing out a gasp from you. Dick takes this chance to deepen the kiss. He groans into the kiss when you tug at his hair.You moan against him, wrapping your legs around his waist trying to pull him closer.  Your movements are clumsy, speaking to your inexperience. Dick is going to take his time with you. 

 Dick kisses your nose and pulls away. He can’t resist. Dick drags the shirt slowly over his body. He hears your breath hitch and a vain sort of pride fuels Dick’s ego. It was one thing for other people to tell him he was pretty. It was an entirely different thing to have you look at him with so much awe and reverence. That look in your eyes always makes his skin prickle with delight. 

 You trace the shape of his muscles with your fingers, your mouth parted slightly as you drink in the sight of him. Dick is no less awe-inspiring than the first time you saw him. You marvel over the scars crisscrossing his chest and arms. None of the imperfections on his skin ever managed to dull his beauty. Unfairly, they only enhanced it and took your breath away every time you noticed a new detail about him. Your hand drifts down to the V of his abs; the tough makes him tremble as it dips closer to the hem of his pants. Dick takes in a sharp breath before kissing you again. It was partly because he could never get enough of your lips and partially to get your attention.  

 “Honey, I want to see you too.” He whispers into your lips. 

 Your body locks up at his words and a heat spreads across your chest, your neck, and up to your ears. Your mouth feels so dry all of a sudden and your feet turn into blocks of ice. What if Dick finds you repulsive? What if he sees you naked and he can’t stand what he sees? Will he leave or will he smile through it all the while gritting his teeth through it? You’re not pretty, not the way Dick is and you certainly can’t measure up to the other Selkies you’ve met. How the flying fuck were you supposed to compte with Babs or Kori? You seriously consider running away and hiding in your room until you feel Dick’s teeth graze against the column of your neck. 

 “Please.” He breathes and his voice is so thick with want that it’s enough for you to forget the desire to melt into the baseboards even for just a moment. You don’t want him to be disappointed, to know that he’s traded down. You’re scared. You don’t want to be but you’re fucking terrified.

 “It’s ok,” he whispers. “I know you’re nervous.” He kisses your forehead. Dick knows he needs to be patient. He’s waited to feel all of you for this long. He’s willing just to wait a bit more if it means you’re comfortable. 

 You close your eyes, grabbing the hem of your shirt. Dick kisses your eyelid. He bites his lip, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into your flesh. It’s so supple and hot against his. Instead, he busies himself by helping you out of your bra but his fingers are clumsy with his brain too full of your skin. You giggle as you both fumble for the clasps. 

     Dick wastes no time peppering your chest with kisses once you’re completely bare. “So pretty.” Dick purrs against your chest. He nuzzles into the valley of your breasts as he feels your breaths even out. Sliding his hands up and down your sides reverently, he makes certain that you know just how beautiful you are with every bite, every kiss, and every touch.

 His attention goes to your breasts. You arch your back as Dick begins rolling your nipples between his teeth. He savors all the little gasps and mewls you make. "Dick." You sigh out his name happily. Dick groans, hips gyrating against yours. "Dick." You repeat, tugging at his hair. You rock your hips in time with his.

 Your voice is driving him insane. The way his name rolls off your tongue like silk fries his nerves. All he wants to do is make you scream it over and over while he takes care of you and lets you know just how good you feel against him. 

 "That's it baby, let me make you feel good."Dick says, giving your nipple one last lick before taking care of the other. "I wanna make you feel so good, sweetheart."

 The husky quality of his voice makes you shiver. Your fingers travel down his back, fingernails lightly scraping against his skin. He trembles against your as you slide your hand down his chest and down his pants. Your fingertips brush against the head of his member. You wrap your hand around his cock, teasing his head with your thumb. Your thumb is wet with his precum as Dick pants softly into your skin. Dick can't help but move against your hand.

 "Sweetheart," he grunts, " I can't... I-"

 Dick grasps your wrist, pressing a kiss to it before pulling it over your head. You whine. Dick's breaths tickle your ear as he tries to steady them. He kisses your cheek and nibbles on your ear. Dick grabs your other arm and pins it down next to the other, pinning both hands with one hand.  You squirm underneath him, trying to break his hold.

 "Let me take care of you." He says, trying to level his voice but you're making it so hard. 

 You drag your leg up his calf. Dick brushes his lips down your neck, sucking a hickey into every available surface of your skin on the way down your hips and murmuring ‘I love you’ as he does.  

 "Dick, please." You moan.

 "Sweetheart," Dick says, biting the soft flesh of your hip.

 You wriggle in his grip causing the hand wound around them to tighten. Dick watches you intently as he bites another hickey into the flesh or your hip. You gasp out his name and Dick can feel his cock twitch. He needs more. 

 “Shhhh, I know, Honey. Shhhhhh.” Dick says, kissing along the hem of your pants before his teeth catch on the fabric. Dick tugs the button free and pulls the zipper down with his teeth. You think your heart stops.  Every little thing he does drives you up the wall.  He hooks his fingers to the top of your pants and pulls them down slowly. You can feel the fabric drag against your skin as Dick presses I love yous up your leg. 

 Dick bites lightly at your ankle as he tosses your pants over his shoulder. Dick licks his lips, they’re plush and glossy from the saliva. He’s looking at you with so much love and adoration that you feel yourself melt. You’re suddenly painfully aware of your nakedness. You snap your legs shut shyly, withdrawing your ankle from his hold.  You curl in on yourself, muttering an apology.

 He shakes his head, chuckling softly. Dick pushes the hair out of your face. He presses his forehead against yours, kissing you softly and running his hands up and down your sides. Your legs slowly open to let his body closer to yours. You just want to feel his skin against yours. 

 "I love how your body reacts to me, honey." Dick winks. 

 You wrap your arms around him, your muscles relaxing a fraction. He can feel the ring on your finger dig into the back of his neck. You are his and he is yours. Dick trills at the thought. You laugh, the vibrations from his lips tickling you. 

 "I love you. You know that, don't you?" Dick asks, nibbling your lip.

 "The whole world knows," you snort, "especially after that fiasco at the town square."

 "I had to protect my wifey's honor." He says with a cheeky smile that takes over his face.

 "Somehow, I feel like knocking his teeth in was a bit much." You say, pulling him into another kiss because... well, your husband is awfully adorable even if he is a disaster.

 "Only seems fair," he says, his hand travelling down your body, kissing your clavicle, "he was being rude to my wife." Dick's fingers dip between your soaking folds. You were dripping just for him. Dick would be lying if he said that didn't inflate his ego. With his fingers curled inside you as he drags them in and out, you arch into him. You thread your finger through his hair and pull. 

 "Dickie, I want you," you whisper, rubbing your knee against his crotch. "I want you so much."

 Dick ruts against your leg, breath ragged and desperate. Dick's body is so sensitive to your touch; it's ridiculous.

 "I want you too." He manages barely above a whisper. 

 "Then fuck me, " you look away from his, biting your lip, "please?"

 "Honey," he groans. God, why did you have to say it like that? "You're going to make me cum." 

 "Isn't that the point?" You ask, your nails dragging on his back as you try and fuck yourself on his fingers. 

 What did Dick do to deserve you?

 "It is," he says, taking his hand out of your folds. "But not before I can make you cum first." He licks his fingers in front of you never breaking eye contact as he does. 

 You cover your face and squeak because damn it Dick you can't just- Who does that?!

 Dick hastily shimmies out of his pants, his cock springing free. You hear a pap as his cock slap against the toned muscles of his stomach. You squeak, peaking through your fingers, the slap ringing sinfully in your mind. Dick lets out an amused breath as he hovers over you. Stroking his length, he smears the precum along your inner thigh, whispering how much you turn him on and how he can't get enough of you. 

 "Sweetheart, I want you to look at me while I fuck you." He grunts and the air in your lungs evaporate. You think you'll follow suit in a few seconds. "Sweetheart, don't make me beg you."He says into your neck.

 Dick, you're not helping, you think to yourself but the saccharine way he always says your pet names has you giving into the request. Dick is smiling down at you and your heart melts. He kisses you deeply. You wrap your limbs around him, your heels digging into the small of his back and your fingers tangled in his locks as he slowly enters you. 

 He moans into your lips and you moan into his. There's a burning stretch inside you that has you begging for more. He bottoms out and your walls flutter around his cock trying to accommodate his girth.  A shiver travels up his spine feeling your velvet walls trying to milk his cock. Dick pulls away from the kiss to whisper: "I love you." 

 "I love you too, hubby. Please move."

 "Aye aye, wifey." He says slowly, pulling his length out. You can feel the long drag of his cock against your walls. You mewl for a lack of anything intelligent to say.

 The sound is enough to egg him on. He pushes in and out of you in long strokes, enjoying how your body rocks against his chasing your own pleasure. You pepper kisses to his chest and leave your own marks. Dick would be embarrassed by the lewd noises he makes as you do so but he's too caught up in you to really care. He doesn't even care if the whole world can hear him right now, all he cares about is that you're his and that you're loving this as much as he is. 

 "Baby, you feel so good. Your pussy was made for me. Ah!" Dick says, his hips stuttering when he feels you clench at those words. He kisses your shoulder. He loves the way his name falls from your lips as if it's the only thing you know how to say. "That's it baby. You're so pretty moaning and gasping and begging for my cock."

 All Dick can focus on is the sound of your skin slapping against his. You kiss up his neck, nibbling at his Adam's apple as he swallows. "Dickie, I want more."

  Dick's mind comes crashing to a halt. 

 "Dick, please. I want to feel you more. Please, go faster." You say, voice husky with want. It makes Dick feel like his body has turned to gelatin. 

 He kisses your forehead, a blush spreading across his skin. "Sweetheart, I can't."

 "Please Dick." You breathe, pouting at him. 

 Fuck, you can't look this cute while begging him to fuck you... twice. That's just not fair. 

 "Sweetheart, if I go any faster, I'm going to cum." The embarrassment is hard to hide.

 You drag your nails across his back and lick a stripe up his neck." Dick, I want you to fill me up. Dick, please, I'm so close." You beg, teeth catching on his collarbone, looking at him with watery eyes. 

 Dick is a sucker and he can never say no to a pretty face. He kisses one of your eyelids before slamming his hips into yours. His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts in and out with wild abandon. He thrusts deeper at an angle that was sure to hit your g spot every time. 

 You sing his name sweetly as you pull him closer. Your nipples rub against his chest as you bounce on his cock. Your walls constrict around him making it harder to pull out every time. All he wants to do is to stay inside you and revel in your warmth but he wants to bring you over the edge and fuck you stupid. He rolls your clit between his fingers as you whimper into his neck. 

 You both cum crying each other's name. Dick kisses you as he fucks you through your orgasm, painting your walls with his hot seed. 

 Dick rests his weight on top of you as he pulls out with some of his seed painting your inner thigh. "I love you." He pants. 

 "I love you too, you heavy lug." You grouse, trying to push him off of you.

 Dick has mercy on you and rolls you two over with you resting on top of him, perfect for cuddling you.

 Dick whispers "I love you" and other praises every time he opens his mouth and you return the sentiment by kissing a different part of his face.

 After a few moments of basking in the afterglow, Dick flushes seeing just how many hickeys he's left you and he flushes even harder seeing his own chest marked up. 

 "Sorry about that," He says kissing one of the marks. "I just can't help myself-" Kiss "-You look so pretty covered in love bites-" Kiss "-Sweetheart, you gotta stop sounding cute. I'll get hard again- Fuck." 

 Your hand wraps around his shaft, fingers brushing against his skin experimentally. "But I want you." You say bluntly. 

 Dick is going to combust. "I want you to. I've wanted you like this for so long."

 You stop. Your thumb brushes against the tip of his already leaking cock.  Your lips curl into a smile. "Is that why you were so adamant on getting married?" You snicker, booping his nose with yours. 

 "No, yes, maybe... partially." He stammers out. 

 You snort. "You know that wasn't necessary for us to..." The flush creeps back on your lips. You somehow have the audacity to look shy while still stroking his shaft. Dick is going to burst. 

 "I didn't want you to miss out on it," Dick says steadying his breath, feeling himself get harder as he talks or attempts to, "I wanted you to experience it since you told me you dreamt about it as a kid."

 You stop and Dick bucks to urge you to keep going.

 "You remembered that?" You ask, the expression on your face is complicated. 

 Dick sits up, brushing a finger against your cheek. "Of course, I did."

 "Dork." You sniffle, kissing his cheek. 

 "Only for you," He laughs but it's cut off by the movement of your hand. "Sweetheart, are you trying to kill me?" He gasps, biting into his knuckle. 

 "I'm only thanking you for being so sweet." You tease, spreading your mixed juices all over his cock. "and I just love my hubby that's all."

 ____________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading!!!!!!

Tag list:  @batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be​ @jadedhillon

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson smut

[hahaha1d0that]

Just thinking about how Maul’s last words before he died were “He will avenge us.”

On his deathbed, Maul finally gives up on trying to defeat Obiwan long enough to realize how similar they are and how wronged they were.

Now, whether the Chosen One is Luke or Anakin is debatable because of the context, but either way, they did both avenge Maul and Obiwan.

Luke was able to convince his father to help save him from Palpatine’s force lightning, throw Palpatine to what should have been his death, and damage his breathing system which is probably what caused his death.

If Palpatine had truly died, the prophecy would have been fulfilled. Maul, Obiwan, and countless others would have been avenged.

Palpatine was responsible for forcing Maul to be his apprentice, training him ruthlessly, sending him to the fight where he was cut in half, letting him rot in insanity, killing his brother and apprentice, literal torture, and probably more terrible things I don’t even know about.

Palpatine was responsible for sending Maul to kill Qui-gon (and Maul’s incessant obsession with hurting Obiwan afterwards including Satine’s death and all the Jedi he killed to get Obiwan’s attention), creating and playing both sides of the Clone War (resulting in the deaths of countless clones created only for this purpose and innocent civilians), grooming Anakin to be the next Sith Lord after Dooku and seducing him to the dark side, ordering Order 66 which almost killed Obiwan (and Maul), and forcing Obiwan to live in hiding under the cruelty of the Empire.

Palpatine used both of them and put them against one another. He was the one that ruined both of their lives, directly or otherwise.

When Anakin threw him down the reactor shaft in ROTJ, that should have been it. After Anakin died, there would be no Sith Lords left and the Sith Rule of Two would be forever ended, restoring peace to the galaxy.

This is one of the reasons why I dislike the sequel trilogy in general (for storyline purposes). By bringing Palpatine back in TROS, they broke the canon Sith Rule of Two, invalidated Dave Filoni’s meaningful end to the Obiwan vs Maul rivalry, disrespected George Lucas’ vision of his franchise, implied that Rey could not have been a powerful Jedi without being related to a strong force user, and made the story even more confusing and pitiful.

And J.J. Abrams had the nerve to admit there was no plan for the trilogy, like, yeah, it was obvious😐

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #tcw #sw tcw #star wars rebels #swr #sw rebels #star wars prequels #star wars prequel trilogy #star wars the phantom menace #the phantom menace #star wars return of the jedi #return of the jedi #rotj #tpm #darth maul #maul #obiwan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #obiwan #Obiwan vs maul #tatooine #star wars sequals #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars the rise of skywalker #the rise of skywalker #sw tros #rule of two #rey skywalker

[winchesterxxi]

Maybe Poe and Skywalker reader being married to each other. Their life together, struggles and everything in between

(force awakens to rise of Skywalker)

WARNINGS: Non-canon content for the sake of the request; Focuses more on the Reader x Poe relationship, so many plot points are left untouched (as in, Reader doesn’t know Kylo is her brother)

THE FORCE AWAKENS

You were stationed in Jakku with your dad and Chewie when a girl and a guy board onto the ship;

“Who the hell are you?” you ask, you and your dad with blasters pointed out to them.

They throw they’re hands up and from behind them rolls out BB8 and you immediately drop to your knees.

“BB! Oh my God, where is Poe? We lost his TIE signal two hours ago, we’ve been worried sick!”

“You know Poe Dameron?” Finn asks you, lowering his hands.

“I’m Y/N Skywalker, his wife.” you eye him, only now noticing he is wearing your husband’s jacket “W-Where is my husband?”

That’s when he gives you the news of the crash and you latch onto your dad, crying.

Days later, on Takodana you are under an attack by the First Order and just as you thought there was no hope left, a fleet of X-Wings come in and save you.

After the fleet landed, you went to meet you mom, knowing that she was the Commander behind this offence against the First Order.

“It’s not me you have to thank honey.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your husband’s the one behind it this time.”

“My...?”

She just nods your head and cups your cheek, stroking your teary eyes, knowing how you’ve been grieving, thinking that Poe had died

“Go find your husband.”

You run past her and your dad to the the landing site trying to spot Poe in the crowd, heart beating hard in your chest

“POE?” “POE!?” you scream is name, trying to find him.

Then

“Y/N?” you stop in your tracks and turn around, spotting your husband.

Your run to him faster than you’ve ever ran until you crash into him in a tight hug, crying.

“I thought you - I thought you had -” you sniff between the tears.

He cups the sides of your face “I know, but I’m here, honey. I’m sorry to worry you. You’d never get rid of me so easily!” He smiles into the crashing kiss.

He helps you blast the FO’s base's thermal oscillator after you witness Kylo killing your father, tears stinging your eyes as you charge ahead.

Afterwards, him being your shoulder to cry on as you mourn your loss.

THE LAST JEDI

Flying alongside him on the dreadnought attack;

“Y/N, FIRE NOW!”

You do as you’re instructed, your shot igniting the explosives that had been set inside the dreadnought making it light up like the 4th of July

“THAT’S MY GIRL!” he shouts over the intercom

When back at the ship, reunited with your mother, you’re the one that spots the Star Destroyer in the radar grabbing Finn’s forearm, alerting him to the map.

“We need to jump to lightspeed!” he states running to your mom, awaiting clearance to do so, hot-headed as always.

“Poe, we can’t do that! We only have enough resources for one jump and if we do so, they’ll just track us again and be without fuel.”

You eye your mother, looking for some help.

“Permission to jump on an X-Wing and blow something up?” he addresses your mom.

“Poe w-” you start

“Permission granted!” your mom agrees as Poe darts running

“MOM!” 

“Go get on one as well.” she comes forward and kisses your forehead “You’re a team now.”

Just as you and Poe are about to reach the X-Wings, him slightly ahead of you the FO manages to blast the platform, sending him flying against you as you both crash to the ground.

He his also next to you when you spot your mother floating in space after the attack and he grips your hand tightly.

You insist on pushing her to the medical wing but he stops you before you can do it

“Poe, I need to be with my mom please.” you grip his arms, sobbing.

He kisses your forehead

“I’ll go with her, you stay here please.” you nod, teary eyed at him “Finn, take care of her for me while I’m gone”

*FASTFORWARD TO HOLDO’S EVACUATION PLAN*

You believe her plan won’t work either so you lead the mutiny alongside your husband

That is until he is stunned against the wall.

You throw yourself on your knees beside him, cradling his head.

Turning back you spot your mom, alive, holding the blaster

“MOM? WHAT THE HELL?”

“I know you love your husband but for once, just drag his ass out.”

You are holding his hand when he springs back to life.

“What - What happened?” he is shaken

“Poe I-”

He pushes past you running to the nearest window

“NO!” he slams on the glass and you come up behind him hand on his shoulder

“Honey,...” he shrugs his shoulder off, facing you, hurt tainting his face.

“Don’t... Call me that.”

“Poe...”

“No! I thought we were in this together!”

“This plan is gonna work, you have to trust me!”

“How can you ask me that after what you just did.”

First serious married fight... yay.

You look at him, biting your lip, tears in your eyes before walking away.

“Poe.” he turns around and finds your mom, calling him and that’s when she shows him Crait and explains him the full and he realizes he was just an asshole to the person he loved the most.

“Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.”

“Yes you are. Now go apologize to my daughter.”

“Yes ma’am.”

*Cue romantic, cute and awkward apology scene*

When the time comes to face the First Order he boards on a speeder and you on your father’s Falcon alongside Chewie

And of course you then help him lead your people out of the cave

THE RISE OF SKYWALKER

So...you’re kind of the captain of the Falcon

Despite Poe being an undeniably better pilot than you, he insisted that you were the rightful captain of the ship now that your dad was gone.

And he loved to call you captain

It made you smile every single time

Fastforward to Kijimi when Poe has a blaster pointed to his head

You are quick to point your own to the armored woman behind him

“Blaster off him, now.”

“She won’t ask twice, I would listen to her”

“Who are you?” you ask, blaster still up as she hadn’t let hers down

“Honey, this is Zorii. Zorii, this is my wife, Y/N”

Her helmet turns to you “Wife? There are actually people out there who go along with what you say.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” he retorts and you snap a look at him

“I could pull this trigger right now.” She says, pushing the blaster harder against Poe’s head.

“You do that, my blaster is the last thing you’ll see in this life.”

“We’re trying to find Babu Frik.” Poe tries to ease the situation

“He only works with the crew. That’s not you anymore.”

“What does she mean crew?” you ask him

“Oh your wife doesn’t know?”

you look between her and him confused

“Funny he never mentioned it...”

“Married people are still allowed secrets Zorii - “ he tries

“Your husband was a spice runner.”

Your eyes almost pop out of your eye sockets

“You were a spice runner? In almost 5 years of marriage NOT ONCE did it occur to you to mention that!?”

Once again, next to him when one of the stormtroopers blasts him in the arm inside the Star Destroyer

“POE!”

Standing in line next him, Chewie and Finn

“Were you ever going to tell me you were a spice runner?”

“You’re still on that?”

“OH I’M SORRY, IS THIS A BAD TIME?”

“IT KIND OF IS, YEAH!”

“Well, because later doesn’t really seem like an option right now -”

“You don’t say -”

“And if my husband has some other important life information before meeting me that I should be aware of, I would like to know becasue for all i know, you could’ve even been a stormtr--”

BAM

Troopers dead, you all alive

Hux admits to being the spy

“I KNEW IT” he points out

“No, you didn’t.”

 While on one of the Endor’s moon your mom uses her last breath to reach out to you trough the Force

You are a few feet behind Poe on the grass and fall to your knees with a thud

He looks over at you, face dropping as he runs in your direction

Your face is white and your look is blank and he is trying to shake your shoulders to gain some attention from you

“My mom...” You look up at him and he immediately understands, gulping hardly. He doesn’t say a word, simply pulling you into a crushing hug as you scream into the ground, tears running down.

Later, back at the resistance base, after you’ve said your goodbyes to your mom, Poe is the one sitting next to her linen-covered body

“I... I promise I’ll take care of her. Not just now, or in the near future, just... forever. I’ll stay by her side, always, Leia. Your daughter... Your daughter is the love of my life.”

After you defeat the First Order, during the celebrations Poe pulls you aside to a quiet place and tells you that he wants to settle down.

You agree with him, teary eyed, kiss kiss, you know the drill

BB8 beeps at your feet

POST TROS BONUS

The both of you settled on Yavin 4, his home planet

You are blessed with kids, first a baby boy and then a baby girl, 2 years apart

Who you name Kes and Leia, after Poe’s dad and Leia’s mom, who devoted their lives to the resistance and in one way or another were behind the reason your life path’s ever crossed

Poe cried like a baby when you told him you wanted your first born to be named Kes

Occasional visits form uncle Finn and uncle Chewie

When it’s just Finn, him and Poe tend to go out and do “guy stuff”

While you sit back at home with the kids and BB8 who loves to entertain them 

And it isn’t rare for sometimes you being sitting on a bench, watching the three of them play in the distance, head on Poe’s shoulder, his arms draped around your waist

And you look to the side to be met with the Force ghosts of your family members looking down at you

#THIS ONE TOOK TOO LONG #why do i always go all out on the headcanons ffs #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron headcanon #poe dameron x skywalker!reader #poe dameron #oscar isaac #the rise of skywalker #the force awakens #star wars #the last jedi

[sserpente]

A/N: I was writing this while my cat kept attacking me because she wanted to play. I don’t know if it made any impact on the story but I guess we’ll see. 😅

Words: 2154 Warnings: fluff (+ there are NO spoilers for TROS in this Imagine!)

Your lungs were burning, accompanied by a stinging pain in your chest. A broken rib, probably, maybe even two. You had been reckless. No, you had been distracted. Distracted by the man you loved more than yourself.

You were so close to him now—and while your heart knew exactly what it wanted, your mind kept sending shockwaves of adrenaline through your entire body.

Danger. Threat. Flight.

You hadn’t seen Ben’s face since he departed to train as a Jedi with his uncle Luke—and Leia had forbidden you joined the Resistance on any risky missions anywhere near the First Order. You were not Force sensitive, never had been. But they took you in when you had had nothing left and you had given back to them your services and your loyalty—your support to fight for a better world.

Your personal political views remained indifferent as long as you got to live, preferably not in poverty. But the Resistance, back then operating under a different name, of course, had given you something else. Someone else. They had given you Ben—right until Luke’s godforsaken Jedi camp had ripped him from your grasp cruelly, had him drift away from you until he was out of reach both physically and mentally.

He had a new name now, new motivations—and he had done terrible things which shocked you to the very bottom of your heart and yet… yet you could never stop loving him. Perhaps this was the reason you were here now, on the Finalizer, bruised, beaten and defeated.

Your weapons had long been taken from you. You were helpless. And Kylo Ren was your only hope.

-

“Bring her to my quarters for an interrogation, and keep her restrained. Her strength is not to be underestimated.” The voice you heard behind you was somewhat… distorted, no, modulated—most likely, it belonged to one of the Knights of Ren… did Kylo wear one too, a mask? How would you recognise him if he did? What if this voice, what if it was him… You swallowed thickly. Focus. Interrogation. If you fought back too much, they would pry your mind open like a nut, pushing you straight into the depths of madness.

You didn’t know anything. Nothing about Leia’s plans and not even if they still resided in the same location. You were on your own now. You had left after the destruction of the Jedi camp, when Ben had become someone you did not recognise—yet.

My quarters… you repeated the words in your mind, pure terror spreading in your veins like a nasty disease. Could it be?

The Stormtroopers followed the order immediately. Grabbing you by your upper arms and practically lifting your feet off the ground, they dragged you through the cold and empty hallways almost effortlessly.

You did not resist—you would save your strength for later—for when you truly needed it to fight all the torture they were about to inflict on you.

Handcuffed to almost utter helplessness, you were shoved into some dark living space, discarded like an old piece of furniture; the metal doors sliding shut behind you and darkness swallowing you whole before you could even turn. Idiots.

Standing there in the corner in complete blackness, with your heart in your mouth and the blood singing in your ears, you waited. You knew enough about strangling people. Your restraints posed the perfect tool for that.

But it stayed silent for a while. No footsteps, no voices, nothing. Then, finally, just when you had almost given up and begun to think your captor might have forgotten about you, the metal doors flew open once again.

The small beam of light falling onto the ground of the dark living quarters before the only exit route was cut off again were enough for you to make out a tall silhouette—and attack it.

With a belligerent scream, you stormed forward, aiming for the figure’s neck—but found your limbs paralysed by an invisible Force only the fraction of a second after, before the metal around your wrists could even touch your enemy.

The man in front of you chuckled darkly—a terrifying sound through the voice modulator inside the mask he was wearing. You froze, regardless of what the Force was doing to your body, eyes widening as a suspicion rose within you. This chuckle… it sounded familiar.

As cool as you please, he reached up, gloved hands swiftly fiddling with the clasps of his mask, revealing…

“Ben.” You choked out when your eyes met. You had found him. He was alive. He was safe. He was well. “Ben…” You repeated, voice breaking pathetically. Instantly, the Force released your limbs but you did not move an inch.

“Ben is dead,” he spat.

“What? I see him. I see him right in front of me!” Kylo turned up his mouth, a touch of anger radiating off of him. Once more, you felt the Force on your body, this time wrapping around your neck tightly. He didn’t even blink as he lifted you off your feet and pulled you towards him without lifting a finger, your body—tiny and downright petite compared to his—colliding with his chest and knocking all air from your lungs.

You howled in pain, your stricken ribs complaining upon the harsh impact. Kylo hesitated, a frown decorating his face for no longer than a split second before he seemed to recollect himself.

“Where is the Resistance?” He asked with a tilt of his head, ignoring your prior response coldly. At this point, you were shaking. You longed to jump into his arms and hold him tightly, but feared his reaction. Would he push you away? Laugh at you? Kill you? No, you figured. Ben would never hurt you.

“I… I don’t know. I left them after what happened at… the… the Jedi camp. I’ve been looking for you ever since.” Kylo Ren’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“And now that you’ve found me, what will you do?” He responded coolly, a hint of mockery swinging in his voice. You fell silent. Ben knew you well, he always had. Truth was, you had not had a plan. All you had wanted was to find the man you loved.

“I presume the Resistance still cares about your whereabouts,” he continued then, seemingly unfazed. “What will they do once they learn the First Order has you in its grip?” Kylo Ren stretched out his hand, gloved fingers kneading the thin air as you felt the Force pulling your mind apart like thin threads being torn from a silken fabric—looking for any kind of information about the Resistance which might be useful to him.

You failed to resist, knowing it would make the inevitable pain a lot more bearable. You had not lied. And you had never kept secrets from Ben.

“You really have no idea.” He concluded almost softly, absentmindedly pulling away again. He gnashed his teeth, staring you intently in the eye for a few agonising seconds. You slowly nodded.

Kylo Ren already knew what you did not dare to speak out loud—that you had come to see him regardless of the consequences which might result in the downfall of the Resistance. For just a brief moment, his composed and repellent façade crumbled. Glimpses of cracks proving to you he was unwilling to yield to his true emotions. He clenched his gloved fists, his right eye twitching once.

Without another word, he hurried to put his mask back on, then he stormed outside, illuminating the dark quarters with the artificial light from the vast hallways for a third time.

“Send a message to the Resistance,” you heard his modulated voice say to the Stormtroopers standing guard outside, “Tell General Organa we have one of her… fugitives on board. (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s survival in return for the exact coordinates of their remaining ships.”

-

Your chest was heaving, tears streaming down your face. Grief and relief mixed in your heart, poisoning you with a deadly potion singeing you from the inside out—it was a pain much worse than the physical injuries of your body the two medical droids were treating. Ben must have sent them to his quarters after realising you were hurt. Nothing was broken, yet the contusions felt equally antagonising. The droids had stripped you and more or less forced you down on the black and uncomfortable sofa, with only your sports bra remaining to take care of the dark bruises.

They utterly ignored your heart-breaking sobs rippling through Kylo Ren’s empty quarters. At least, the lights had been switched on by now, allowing you a few curious glances around.

The decoration was sparse. There was a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, a double bed with pitch black bed sheets, a dark and tiled hallway leading to a separate refreshing area and a mysterious metal door—you did not need to try for the knob to know it would be locked.

Ben’s signature was all over the room—it felt like his aura lingered despite his absence, reminding you with every passing second of the man you had lost. He could have taken you to General Hux, could have the Stormtroopers take care of accommodating you—and he could have you killed without so much as a simple blink. He had not. You were here. Right here in his quarters where you were safe. Safe from all the threats on board the Finalizer, safe from the proponents of the First Order. Safe from anyone except from him.

Kylo Ren returned, presumably, late at night. He found you curled up on the hard seating furniture, your almost naked back turned to him. He could sense you were still awake. Your thoughts were racing through your mind, one toppling over the next.

Your lips were still shaking—as were your limbs. His quarters were almost unusually chilly, dark and uninviting. Wearing no more than a pair of tight trousers and your sports bra did not exactly help this predicament. Holding your breath, you listened. What was he doing? You could hear the rustling of fabric, bed sheets being pulled back for the owner of the soft mattress to lie down on it and rest and lastly, the sound of a light switch. Once again, you found yourself in complete darkness.

One thing was for sure—Kylo Ren would never admit he was unsure of what to do with you. Killing you was no option. He would never forgive himself. Leaving you with Hux or the Stormtroopers? You were his.

Gnashing his teeth, he ripped his eyes back open all the while listening to your clattering teeth. Were you really his? You loved him, he knew this, he could sense it—always could have. And you were here. Here in his quarters. You could have been killed for just attempting to come here and even that had not stopped you from finding him. For Heaven’s sake—he was the Supreme Leader. If he wished to keep you with him, it would be his decision alone.

“B-Ben.” He suddenly heard you mumble.

Silence. Indignantly, he squeezed his eyes shut. Would sleep come to him tonight? He would need his energy. If his mother still cared about you as much as she had before he left her, tomorrow might result in yet another draining battle.

“Ben.” You said again, louder and more vehemently this time.

Again, he did not respond. You swallowed thickly, biting your lower lip so hard you could taste blood.

“Fine,” you spat. “Kylo.”

As if on cue, he turned in bed, facing you in the utter darkness of his quarters. You had a feeling he could still see every inch of you, his brown eyes boring through you like sharp daggers or the hot blade of his lightsabre.

“What is it?”

“I’m freezing. Please… can you give me a blanket?”

“I don’t have any spare blankets.” His dark voice rumbled through the blackness around you. Fearing that this would be his final word, you took a deep and shaky breath. But then, suddenly, the bed sheets rustled again. “Come.”

What? Did he mean… his bed?

Still trembling, you stood from the uncomfortable sofa, wondering what he would do if you approached him. But Kylo said nothing. Not when you lied down in his warm bed. Not when he covered you with his blanket. Not when he wrapped an arm around your middle and pulled your cold body against his warm chest, his heavy breathing brushing hot air against the back of your neck.

“Kylo…” You whispered. He held you even closer in response—there was no need for him to see you to notice how your eyes had filled with salty tears again.

What was he doing? Was he Kylo Ren or was he Ben Solo? But perhaps it did not matter. He was, after all, the man you loved.

-

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fluff #ben solo #ben solo imagine #ben solo x you #ben solo x reader #ben solo fluff #star wars #star wars imagine #disney #adam driver #tros #tros imagine #star wars tros #star wars tros imagine #the last jedi #the last jedi imagine #star wars the last jedi #star wars the last jedi imagine #swtlj #swtlj imagine #swtros #swtros imagine #sw #sw imagine

[officialscaramouche]

please tell me the kinks taht scaramouche would have, idf you what tro ofc! MY PUOEN IS WET SO ITS HARD TO TYRP !!!

LMFOAOOO ANON I KNOW!!!!!!!!! MY PUSSY IS ALWAYS WET FOR SCARAMOUHR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Scaramouche is a dominant man, so all of his kinks revolve around power play.

TW: STRONG THEMES OF DEGRADATION, NON-CON, PHYSICAL HARM.

Choking. He loves to feel your pulse against his fingers and watch your eyes roll back into your head as he literally fucks the breath out of you. When you start getting light headed and limp he fucks you harder, loving the feeling of getting to say when you can breathe.

Shibari. If you ask him, “bondage,” isn’t his style. It’s become something more than simply tying you up, so he’s ditched it for something more poetic. Part of the foreplay for him is tying you up. Wrapping the rope gently around your ass, or tying beautiful lattices across your tummy. His favorite is when your skin puffs over the rope, as if he’s tied it too tight. But he’s done everything with you, and his best work has to have been when he pulled your legs back taut, exposing yourself to him.

Spanking. Especially if you’re being a little shit, he loves spanking. He doesn’t like to use tools such as belts, paddles, whips, etc. He’s a traditional man. Part of spanking you is the sting on his palm. But the real reason he loves it is how you wiggle and writhe in his lap, the warm blush of your cheeks, and how it stings so bad that he can’t hit it in doggy. He might be a little more gentle if you cry. But you didn’t hear that from me.

Gagging. He loves to test the limits of your mouth, whether it’s on his cock or a ball-gag. He loves to watch you slobber; drooling for his cock. He’ll slip off your undergarments and stuff them in your mouth, fucking you with them in.

Role reversal. If he’s in a good mood, he’ll let you try to top him. Keywords: try to. He’s not a very good bottom in the same way you aren’t a very good top. It’s embarrassing hovering over him as he gives you his best “sub smile,” which frankly is very similar to the smile he gives when he’s challenging you (because it’s the same). He’ll make fun of the things you say, like “I want you to use me, baby. I’ve been good, right?” Eventually he can’t take it anymore— you’re just too irresistible and he takes the lead once more.

Roleplay. This was more your idea than his and he just goes along with whatever makes you cum. But he actually really gets into a couple of them, those being “boss and secretary,” “teacher and student,” and rapeplay. He takes all of his roles seriously but that doesn’t mean he can’t also be silly with it. The last thing he’d ever want is to hurt or scare you.

Cock worship. He was never one for head until you worshiped his cock. Kissing it, holding it gently, ogling at it, rubbing it all over your face. It threw him off the first time, but he’s crazy about it now. He’d rather have you love on his cock than suck it, but that’s part of the whole worshipping thing.

Creampies/covering you in cum. This ones pretty obvious, it’s like he’s marking his territory. Nothing makes a bottom sexier than being covered in cum. Part of the attraction is fucking his kids into you, but the other part is seeing it leak out of your fucked out hole. Sometimes looking at his cum drip out of you is enough to make him go a second round, but oftentimes he’s exhausted.

Hair pulling. Not his hair, yours. If your hair is long enough, he likes to use it as an anchor between the two of you. Otherwise, he’s generally using it to control what you’re doing. If he’s about to cum in your mouth, he’ll pull you right off before he does. If you’re kissing him and he’s ready for something else, he’ll pull you away. Just second nature to his training; you control the body if you control the head.

There are a ton more, like exhibitionism, but this already getting pretty long.

Now, all of these can absolutely pass the threshold of trust, which is why he gives you a safeword. The word itself is pretty much a turn off, so once you say it, he’s done for the night.

#writing #Scaramouche #headcanons #I guess?

[starlightsearches]

i’m not sure if you’ve written something like this before, but if not, can i request a Hux ficlet post-TROS (where he survived the blaster wound bc i refuse to acknowledge canon) where he comes back to a woman who he was in love with who joined to resistance and it ended REALLY BADLY, but he’s come to make amends and to tell her that he was the spy? is that too much for a ficlet 😬 i’m sorry

Absolutely friend, no need to apologize!

Armitage Hux x GN Reader / Warnings for angst and some injury stuff

You should have pulled the trigger.

Before you saw the cane, the bandages—the sorry look in his eyes that stilled your finger. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Armitage anywhere but the jittery holos of pre-recorded speeches. Your eyes rake over every facet of his features now in the same way they usually did in those private moments, like you’re still searching for a sign of the man you once knew.

If you kill him now, you’ll never see that man again.

He stops just on the edge of the trees, one hand up in surrender; his weight rests heavily on the cane, but you’re not inclined to believe him totally helpless.

“Cuff him,” you jut your chin in Armitage’s direction, and Dav—your second-in-command—moves forward, approaching him cautiously. You keep your blaster raised when you look him in the eye.

“What are you doing here?”

“Please,” he winces as Dav cuffs him, shifting his weight more heavily to the uninjured leg now that he can no longer hold the cane, “I want to speak to Dameron.”

You kiss your teeth as anger sparks your senses. It shouldn’t bother you—shouldn’t annoy you that he doesn’t seem bothered, seeing you here, after all this time. But still, it does.

“General Dameron hasn’t returned. Last we heard, they were trying to rescue Chewbacca from your people.” A ripple of pain travels through your chest at the word captured, a bubble of anxiety swelling as it moves from the tips of your fingers to the space inside of your lungs. After everything that had happened, you couldn’t lose Poe, too.

“They’re not back yet?”

That catches your attention. You look up sharply, watching as he flinches again in response to Dav’s failed attempts to help support his weight.

“We didn’t know they had escaped,” you give up on the blaster, holstering it at your side and moving closer, plenty confident that Armitage couldn’t fight a stiff breeze in his condition, let alone you and Dav together.

“What happened?”

“Dameron and the others were captured, but I helped them escape,” he raises his hands, brushing open the front of his uniform with delicate fingers. There’s a flash of white in the gap created in the fabric—a bandage, marred by the slow creep of red, the dried blood so dark it has stained the bandage black, “I was found out; they shot me for it.”

He meets your eyes for the first time. Flickers of something familiar pass between you—embers you can’t stomp out beneath the soles of your boots. Against your better judgement, you release the cuffs, and you already know that you’re bound to regret this.

“Go back to the base, Dav,” you say without looking at him, “try and get in touch with the Falcon, if you can.” Or the spy—words you think but don’t dare say, although Dav seems to understand, resting his hand on your shoulder before he leaves. You erase the thought from your mind; there’s only so much energy you can spend on worry.

“Come on, then,” you gesture for Hux to follow, setting a steady pace, unwilling to let the silence settle. After a moment, you hear him move, trailing awkwardly behind you as he tries to walk over the uneven ground.

There’s a heavy sadness that still hangs in the air around the base, clinging to your friends as they cluster in small groups, talking in hushed voices. More than a few teary eyes look up as you approach, their sadness momentarily taken over by curiosity, mouths dropping open at the sight of the enemy general strolling through the camp.

“The princess . . .” Hux’s voice startles you, closer than you had anticipated, and you stop for a moment, allowing him to catch his breath. He’d never been particularly empathetic when you knew him before, but damn if he wasn’t observant.

“We’re . . . we don’t know how much longer she’ll be able to hold on,” you whisper, a few traitorous tears making their way down your cheeks before you’re able to swipe them away. “I’ve been running things, so that she could rest, but . . .” you graze your teeth over your bottom lip, nibbling on it absentmindedly. There were no words for this, no way to make someone like him understand how afraid you were. How unprepared you felt. And, gods forbid, if Poe and Finn didn’t make it back, how alone you’d be. In a million lifetimes, you’d never feel ready for something like this.

His touch is cautious, as he rests his hand on your shoulder—the comforting gesture totally foreign to both of you—and so startling you have no choice but to find his eyes again.

There’s no linearity to the flood of feelings that meets you when you look at him, no kind of order or sense. You miss him; you hate him for letting you leave, for not coming with you when you begged him to. You want him to go. You need him to stay. You’re angry and you’ve already forgiven him and you want to punch him right in his perfect jaw. A small part of you wants to kiss him, but that’s the part that you bury first.

You shrug his hand from your shoulder, not totally unkindly, gesturing for him to follow again.

The makeshift medbay is empty when you arrive, as you expected, but you pull the curtain that serves as a door closed behind you anyways.

“Take a seat,” you instruct him as you gather your supplies: some fresh bandages, a pair of scissors, bacta, setting them on the low bench next to him before kneeling down to get a better look at the wound on his leg.

“Don’t you have droids for this?”

You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s nervous. His hands fidget in his lap, the tips of his gloved fingers scraping against his palms, and he jumps a little when you wrap one hand around the back of his leather boot, trying to hold him steady while you cut at the bandage.

“Med droids are expensive, and it doesn’t take a lot of training to wrap bandages,” you look up at him, hoping to see his reaction to your next words, wondering if it might teach you anything, “but I can get someone else to do it, if that would make you feel better.”

“No, that’s not necessary.” He stares resolutely at the far wall, and there’s a faint flush of pink around his hairline. You try not to let it distract you.

You make quick work of the injury on his leg, cutting off the singed material and wrapping the bandage tightly around his skin before standing again.

“I’ll need you to take this off,” you say quietly, tugging at the collar of his uniform. He nods without looking at you, and the space between you is charged as you help him shrug the garment off, the skin of his shoulders and chest turning red in response to the cool air.

You unwind the bandage, clenching your teeth in a weak attempt to steel yourself, but you think you might be sick. The smell alone is enough to make you light-headed—blood, and blaster residue and the sharp sting of antiseptic, but its the sight of the wound that turns your stomach. It’s painful just to look at, dark red and aching in the very center of his chest. Despite all your anger, you’ve never wanted him to hurt like this.

“I can do it,” he says, misinterpreting your pause, reaching for the bandages, but you catch his wrist in your hand, taking a few deep breaths through your mouth.

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching past him for the bacta and gathering a thick glob of it on your fingers, “I’m fine.”

He nods again, looking back to the wall as you press the medicine into his skin, soothing the wounded flesh without ever looking directly at it. Your eyes linger on his freckled shoulders instead, or the other scars that litter his torso—nicks and bruises and cuts. Wounds that were never given a proper chance to heal.

“The Resistance made contact with an informant aboard the Supremacy not long ago,” you say, attempting to distract yourself, “were you aware?” There’s a long pause before he nods in confirmation.

“We’ve lost contact with them recently,” you continue, swallowing to keep your voice steady, “ and were concerned that they might have been found out. Do you know if they're . . . safe?"

Damn it, your hands are shaking. There's so much you're not able to say, millions of other questions hiding within the only one you’re capable of asking.

"I believe that they are," he says quietly, and you're able to breathe again, a small weight gone from your chest.

"Good, good," you the off the bandage before you begin clearing up the supplies, "that's good news."

It's not a confirmation. It's not the answer you were hoping for. But it's something.

"Stay here. I'm going to find you something to wear." You're at the curtain when he says your name—the same way he used to say it, in nightmares and dreams. Your vision swims before you can blink away the tears.

"Everything I did," he whispers, "it was always for you."

Ficlet and headcanon requests are open 💖

#armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux/reader #armitage hux/you #general hux x you #general hux x reader #general hux/reader #general hux/you #asks #requests #ficlets #my writing

[impcssibleodds]

main verse / canon ish; 

this is basically my about page summarized,  if you have a verse or are a star wars muse then i will default to this so let me know if you want something else.  trigger warning;  mentions of death.  poe is a force sensitive male,  though he shut out the force when he was eight years after his mother died,  he thought that he would be taken away to train when all he really wanted is follow in her footsteps.  his rebellious phase was a cover for getting the children who were being kidnapped and taken to the first order and taking them to safety,  at least that was the plan,  upon finding out that he was going to be a father himself -- poe had to get his own child to safety first.  he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could,  no matter the cost.  but when leia asks for him to serve the resistance,  he can’t say no,  he knew his mother would have done the same.    ( any events after the end of tlj are au,  tros can step on lego, although if you liked it then you’re still valid and i’m sure we can plot somewhere in the middle.  and his daughter now stays with kes on naboo ).

shadow & bone;

trigger warning;  mentions of death. poe is a sun summoner,  though when the testers came,  his mother fought them ( despising the thought of someone making her child fight ) and was killed.  though the testers died along with her and kes was only left with one option;  find a way across the fold before someone found out the two grisha were dead.  with the help of the conductor and most of the money they had,  kes took poe to ketterdam and raised him there,  telling him to keep his power a secret for both their lives.  despite that warning,  poe tried his best to hone his abilities,  not wanting to shut them out,  one day he wanted to be as brave as his mother was.

supernatural; 

poe is a chaotic witch who has kept himself alive for about three centuries now,  aiding hunters when they came looking for those witches who were hurting people,  hating to see humans on the bad side of their kind.  he still tends to keep people at arms length because he’s afraid that other witches will hate him for helping their “enemies” in the past.  he needs a hug though really.

marvel / tfa based; 

trigger warning;  mentions of torture. poe dameron is one of the howling commandos,  one of the best pilots among their ranks,  he never made plans for after he came home because he didn’t want to make a promise he couldn’t keep.  he never planned on living forever either -- yet that was exact chance he got.  taken just before bucky and given the serum under torture,  poe came out of it more messed up than he could have imagined.  he made it home to new york and struggled for a long time,  not taking up the call with shield,  though that only meant that hydra found him again sooner rather than later.  he was taken back to the same facility where they kept bucky for a long time,  but he was never really used as much as the winter soldier.  when shield finally fell,  poe has been at a loss but was taken in by tony stark and is trying to recover. note;  while my default is tfa/prewar based,  i can do post tws things,  but anything after that is au.

dceu / modern;

former military,  when poe finally retired from rescue missions,  he found it hard to sit at home being still.  he started doing mercenary work,  though always standing up for the little guy,  he never thought that he was helping quite enough.  it might have had more to do with comparing himself to his mother,  but poe would never admit out loud.  eventually he was recruited by jacob kane and once again he felt like he had a purpose.   note;  only based in season 1 of batwoman,  anything after that is au.  i also use this as a crossover with my main modern verse where poe does private security.

more will be added at a later point!!

#;verses #;save #;about poe #death cw #torture cw