#pardon as i become very chaotic

[la-rougo]

*SFW*-

Beelzebub x Chaotic Diety! GN Reader

I need to see how my boy will handle with this one

A/n: I am in LOVE with him, (bc he shares the same name w my big orange demon himbo main— and shares the same va with anasui!!!!) and fear not my friends, this is pure-

-FLUFF (maybe angst but mainly fluff idk)

You’re not really a new diety, more like you’re new to him

When he first met you he just ignores you

But with your silliness and no self awareness, you follow him and tries to be ‘friends’ with him

He didn’t care so he just let you be, when you ask him anything he just answers bluntly or ignores you

But you couldn’t stop leaving him alone, not only that but you also cause troubles around him (but not to him)

He started to feel annoyed but once he completely gives you full attention, he feels warmer

Even how much stupid stuffs you have done (including accidentally ruins his experiment which he almost kills you for that) he couldn’t help but likes your company

He starts to talk to you a little bit more everyday which already makes you head over heels

He feels admired by you and it makes him feels strange, he isn’t supposed to feel any kind of affection. At least that’s what he always thought

Of course you take notice about his oddly behavior so you question him about it

He panicked slightly when he realized that his weird feelings are starting to become obvious, so he starts to avoid from you as much as possible

It’s absolutely impossible for him to run away from you since you’re his biggest fan ig/hj

He knows the consequences if he doesn’t stop his feelings, but it’s hard for him. He can barely do anything without having you around him

You decided to maybe give him a little space, or hang out with him less. Once everything is settled, you asked him a question

“Why are you keep running away from me? Did i do anything wrong?”

You asked him and he stopped mid way through his walk

Beelzebub sighed, he turned slightly at you with the same empty expression

“Here’s a better question. Why do you keep following me?”

You gulped, it feels slightly suffocating, his question makes you turn your head away from him slightly. You’re not prepared for this question, not at all. You never really thought that he would ask this and just let you follow him but here they are.

“Because I like you?”

He look at you with a *pardon?* kind of face, you turn away completely. You’re sweating like hell

“What?”

“What?”

He sighs again, turning to walk away from you

“Wait- aren’t you going to answer me? Boi! Don’t turn your back on me!!”

You catch up on him with a little pout

“Now that you got your answer, it’s my question for you to answer now”

Beelzebub rolls his eyes and fastened his walk

“Nope”

And he’s running

“Beeellll!!!!!!”

Andddd you’re chasing him, you quickly catch up to him again and grab his arm gently

“Cmon, the question is not that hard to answer ya pussycat!”

“Will you just shut up”

“I will if you answer my question emo boy”

He sighs defeat, he doesn’t even want to talk to you about the harm that’s coming to you, he feels bad, he feels sick inside, he feels scared.

“I don’t want to hurt you”

You tilted your head slightly

“What?”

Then, beelzebub became curious. Can you help him out of his hellhole? he wonders if you might be the one

“Never mind, just ignore whatever had happened earlier”

You look at him with a very confused face, but shrugs it off when beelzebub continues his walk again

The more time has pass, more affection you give him. With also, the more his feelings had grown

He feels bad deeply, he knows one day he— no, satan will kill you if he can’t stop himself so he have to stay away from you as much as he can, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so

If you actually manage to survive or break satan’s curse though

My boy ain’t gonna hold back☹️

Saying beel is shocked is an understatement, bro is absolutely flabbergasted

You somehow managed to break his satan curse and he’s shitting tears fr

After that, he didn’t immediately shows affection. He just take his time to understand affections and loves more clearly after being free, but of course you help him with that

“Now that I’m free…”

Beelzebub place his hands on both sides of your shoulders to stare at you… intensely

“Uh… beel?” It’s kinda awkward and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him so you just look away

“I hate how you make me feel”

You looked back at him and make a confused face

“What do you mean?”

Bros kinda frustrated ngl but he takes a deep breath and thinks abt what to say

“I… how do i say this. Hm… I uhh

— I love you”

Beel is dying inside how he managed to actually said that

“I love everything about you, i love how you make me feel loved, i love how you make me feel happy. Even if you never listen to me but that’s what i also love about you”

And he continues so on, you on the other hand is dying by his words. I absolutely think that beelzebub is not good with words but he’s trying

“I love you too beelz..”

You’re on the verge of crying out tears of happiness, after you two confessed beel hugs you tightly and you felt him crying in your shoulder

“Are you crying?”

“No.”

Beelzebub feel like the happiest man ngl, he finally got to love freely like other people do. Nothing can describe how happy he is

He doesn’t change much after the curse broke but he smiles a lot more when he’s with you and become slightly clingy

Once beel is used to being free he’ll just bomb you with affections, mainly actions cause we found lovely dovely words to be awkward for him

Of course you wouldn’t mind that, he’ll thought endlessly that he doesn’t deserve you but you shut him up

“You’re too kind… I don’t deserve you to have as a lover, I can’t have you… you deserve someone else better than me”

Beel said while burying his face in your shoulder from behind

“Oh shut up! You’re the best lover I could ever ask for, I love you with my whole heart and I won’t stop loving you even after death. So stop thinking like that and enjoy every moment of us, of course without thinking about that”

Beel lift his head up to stare at you with a deep sigh, you turn slightly to him and peck his cheeks. Beel can’t help but feel the corner of his lips lifted

He overthinks a lot even after his curse had disappeared, but you kept comforting him saying that there’s nothing to worry about and he should relax more, he used to think that he has fallen into the pit of despair, with nothing to lift him up. But once he’s with you, he feels the opposite of what he used to feel, he feels like he’s the happiest man ever

He loves you dearly and so do you

#ror x y/n #ror x you #ror x reader #ror beelzebub #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok x you #beelzebub #snv #snv x reader #snv x y/n #snv x you #snv beelzebub #shuumatsu no valkirye #shuumatsu no walkure #shuumatsu no valkyrie #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub ror #beelzebub snv #beelzebub x you

[faulty-writes]

heyyy do you think you can write more knight!iida x princess!reader please 🌺🌺

[ Hello dear anon! *Takes flowers* I can most certainly make more Knight!Tenya x Princess!Reader content. I hope you enjoy it, this was so much fun to write. Since I love Tenya this has a somewhat romantic end to it. The summary is below the banner. ]

[ Summary: The Kingdom of Yuuei has many wonders, but none was more fascinating to you than Tenya Iida, a young knight serving under the royal family. As the Princess, you were far too used to getting what you desired, this included demanding he teach you the ways of swordsmanship. Unfortunately, this training session results in an injured ankle, and he insists on caring for you. ]

You cried out when his sword collided with yours, and your feet desperately dug into the ground to steady yourself. However, this was of no use as Tenya continued to push you back intent on following your orders despite them clashing with his own morals.

As a knight, it was his duty to serve and protect the kingdom, its citizens, and its rulers. This, of course, included you. The fair princess. He had grown to know you well throughout these many years serving the kingdom, and as such, he understood your fierce and yet kind nature.

You were very caring and always did what was within your power to help your citizens. But they did not know of the determined and chaotic side that demanded outrageous and furthermore dangerous requests like him teaching you swordsmanship.

While he agreed that everyone should know the basics of self-defense, it was a knight’s job to ensure that the kingdom was always protected no matter what evil arose to challenge it. Obviously, he couldn’t refuse a command given to him by a member of the royal family.

However, he tried to convince you there was no need to learn how to defend yourself. This is because he vowed to never allow harm to come to you, or so he thought. Unfortunately, you weren’t convinced and refused to listen to his logic and reason.

Eventually, you threatened to throw him into the dungeon if you did not get your way. This would effectively end his knighthood and his goal of becoming Grand Commander as his eldest brother was. So, with some regret, training began.

Despite your swordsmanship skills improving over the past few weeks, Tenya refused to use his full strength against you. This, of course, bothered you given that during training sessions with his fellow knights, he was quick on his feet and defeated them with intense fury.

You wanted fair and equal treatment. Just because you were royal didn’t mean you couldn’t hold your own or at least try to. “Pardon?” he asked, lifting his helmet visor. You crossed your arms and impatiently tapped your foot against the ground.

“As Princess of the Yuuei Kingdom, I order you to use the extension of your strength against me,” you explained with an unhappy scowl. Tenya frowned knowing there was an increased chance of injury if he didn't hold back. However, he was not willing to lose his position nor was he in the mood for another one of your idle threats.

He removed his helmet and knelt down. One hand was pressed against his chest plate, while the other was pressed against the ground to steady himself. “Very well, Your Highness,” he replied, “I shant hold back,” and he was true to his word.

‘Damn it,’ you clenched your jaw. He was like a mountain, unable and unwilling to move. The sun shined down on both of you, causing sweat to drip down your forehead and neck. It also shined off Tenya’s armor which somehow looked new and polished.

However, he was known for taking care of his armor and often spent hours cleaning it. This was because of his insistence that “a knight must always look proper and in accordance with the royal family.” The fact that he was without a helmet was a distraction.

Even with dirt patches coloring his skin and sweat dripping down his face, he was handsome. His hair stuck to his skin, giving him an animalistic appearance. This was only intensified by his glistening red eyes, which were slit in anger and determination.

You briefly looked over your shoulder, noticing that you were inching closer to the end of the training ground marked with wooden poles connected with a sturdy rope. You refused to be thrown over that makeshift fence, despite knowing you were going to lose.

You tightened your grip on your sword and used all your strength to move Tenya’s sword to the side. The sound of metal scraping together echoed through the air and your arms trembled without the weight of the other sword to hold yours up.

The relief you felt only lasted for a few seconds before Tenya brought his arm back and clashed his sword against yours in a sideways swipe. You stumbled back, only to feel your foot get caught on something and pain shoot through your ankle when you hit the ground.

You didn’t see or hear where your sword landed. However, you heard Tenya drop his and immediately kneel by your side. “Princess!” he exclaimed in a panic, angry at himself for following through with your orders despite not having a choice. You groaned, slowly pushing yourself up.

“Are you injured?” he questioned, glancing at your body. Your once white dress was now stained with dirt and your hair was a tangled mess. The tiara that normally rested atop your head was now lying in a patch of grass, some ways from where you had fallen.

“My ankle...hurts” you hissed behind clenched teeth, trying to ignore the pain. “Pardon, but I would favor examining your ankle in order to assess the type of injury or damage that has occurred. This will determine which kind of medical attention you require.”

You glared at him but knew you didn't have the right to be angry because he followed through with your orders. Still, you hadn’t expected to get hurt, at least not like this. You frowned and hesitantly moved your hand away.

“I believe it would be best to remove your shoe, Your Highness,” he suggested. “May I have permission to do so?” he asked, and you frowned in response. Your fingers curled into the dirt beneath you and with a huff, you said, “Fine.” He nodded and grasped your ankle with one hand.

He ensured to keep his grip loose but firm as he took your shoe off with his opposite hand. You winced and pulled your leg back. Although it was a normal reaction to want to get away from the source of pain, he tightened his grip and finished removing your shoe. He then tossed it to the side.

You continued to wince, trembling as more pain coursed through your ankle causing your toes to curl. “Apologies,” he did not wish to cause you more harm but knew it was necessary. You growled in response but said nothing as he lowered your ankle onto his knee.

Each touch of his gloved fingertips brought a small jolt of agony, but you clenched your jaw to silence any further whimpers. “You appear to have some swelling and the skin around your ankle is red indicating possible future bruising,” he explained, making you pout. “Oh good,” you said sarcastically, making him knit his eyebrows.

“Forgive me, Your Highness, ecchymosis is not something one usually finds happiness in as it's bleeding that occurs under the skin due to trauma, and in some cases, can be a rather serious condition.” He was as sincere as ever and somehow it was annoying and endearing at the same time.

You looked at him monotonously. Your eyebrows were lowered, and your lips were pressed out in a thin line. “May I carry you to your bed chamber? I believe that would be the most appropriate place as you are in need of a change of clothes.” You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

“After which, I will tend to your injured ankle,” he said before placing his hand on his chest and bowing his head. “Are you saying you want to undress me?” you asked, teasing him. But as usual, your jokes flew over his head or were completely ignored. “Please allow me this honor to redeem the injury I have caused to you.”

Despite the slightest flush washing over your cheeks, you were used to being treated like a flower. People were afraid to touch you in fear of your petals wilting, although this was typical for those lucky or unfortunate enough to be born into royalty.

While Tenya kept this in mind, he was not afraid to touch you or argue with you. This made him different from most of the Kingdom’s population and was one of the reasons you were drawn to him. You spread your arms out so that he can carry you as requested.

He carefully removed your ankle from his knee, laying it gently back on the ground. Then he placed one arm underneath your legs and leaned over. He allowed you to wrap your arms around his neck before placing his opposite arm behind your back.

His armor clinked when he stood up, but he didn’t appear to have trouble lifting you. The sound of his metal boots against the grass brought you comfort, and you stared at him the closer you got to the castle. Like before, you thought he looked handsome.

From his dark, undercut hair to his sharp jawline. “Hm…” you reached up and threaded your fingers through that hair. He tensed up but continued walking and glanced at you. “Please refrain, Your Highness,” he said, making you pout again. While he knew you wouldn't listen, public displays of affection were not permitted.

Especially given the difference in social status between you two. He could feel your glare burning a hole through him and assumed you were unhappy that he had refused your touch. “Knight Iida,” you said, trying to sound as sweet as possible which caught his attention yet again.

He stopped and after a few moments of hesitation, he replied “Yes, Your Highness?” You smiled and threaded your hands through his hair again. This made him frown but he remained still as you had yet to give him an order or tell him what you intended.

Your hand continued brushing through his hair, making him tremble in response. “Your Highness, I am about to resume walking,” he stated. Yet again showing his willingness to disregard certain rules or orders from you such as not moving until told to do so.

“Wait a minute,” you protested, but he ignored you. “Fine,” you replied, grasping the top of his chest plate to pull yourself up and kiss his cheek. Although it tasted of salt, sweat, and dirt. He stopped again, clenching his jaw to avoid shouting your name.

His face was flustered, and he looked at you with wide, yet still angry eyes. You snickered, finding his reaction amusing. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his anger as he knew acting solely on emotions was dangerous. “Please do not do that,” he stated.

His voice deepened and a serious tone accompanied it. “It’s not appropriate behavior for one of royal status to partake in nor is public affection proper social behavior for anyone to display,” he explained. “Why should I care about proper behavior?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“I’m just thanking my royal knight for everything he does for me,” you said, brushing your fingers along his cheek. “If the King and Queen witnessed their daughter treating one of the lower classes in such an affectionate manner, it would surely cause a problematic situation. I do not believe I would favor that.”

You frowned at his words, feeling both angered and ashamed, not of your actions, but rather of the belief that royals were above others. Everyone should be treated equally, regardless of their social status. You thought Tenya of all people would realize that.

“Mm…” You frowned but chose not to address it further. Instead, you rested your head on his shoulder as he resumed walking. His eyes widened when he saw Tenya carrying you. “I-Iida!” he shouted, running up to him. “Greetings Midoriya,” he stated.

“I was worried when Your H-Highness ran off! The King and Q-Queen were too. Where was she!?” he frantically asked ignoring how you glared at him. Izuku was your valet and assisted you with whatever you needed. You knew he was of the lower class as well.

He had originally wanted to become part of the knighthood as Tenya was. However, he didn’t quite fit the requirements and was given the option of caring for you instead. Some may say that’s more challenging than being a knight.

“I’m afraid that is my own fault. I insisted that I overlook Your Highness’s self-defense training. However, the session ended early due to an injury,” he explained, and worry immediately enveloped Izuku’s features.

“Injury!?” he exclaimed, and you leaned forward, shushing him. “You have the biggest mouth!” you hissed, not wanting the whole damn kingdom to make a fuss just because you hurt your ankle. “Uh, u-um,” he flushed and bowed. “I-I’m sorry, Your Highness, I just um…” He glanced to the side, trying to stop his panicked thoughts.

“I-is there anything you need? I c-can get it for you while you continue to t-tend to the Princess!” he offered, leaning back up and looking at Tenya with determination. It almost saddened him that Izuku hadn’t been considered knight material.

He imagined that if given the chance, he would be a worthy knight. You growled softly, annoyed by Izuku’s words. He was an excellent example of one of the many people who treated you like a flower. He worried about every small scrape and bump you received.

“Thank you, Midoriya,” Tenya replied. “I would favor a wash basin, preferably with warm water if available,” Izuku nodded, continuing to listen. “I believe I will also require two washcloths,” he explained. “R-right!” the green-haired boy replied, you could never fathom why he was so shy around others.

“I’ll b-be back!” he promised and Tenya smiled as he watched him disappear down the hallway. “Can we go to my room now?” you asked flatly. “Yes, Your Highness,” he replied, and a rush of relief came when he opened the door to your bed chamber.

As expected, it was large and spacious. Natural light filled the room thanks to the large windows on the opposite side which were decorated with purple silky drapes. Outside said windows, one could see the beautiful courtyard and flower garden.

The walls were painted white with gold trim. A large white wardrobe with diamond-shaped handles and elegant carvings was next to your bed which was constructed of an equally as elegant bed frame with a large canopy. Much like the wardrobe, it too had carvings.

The only difference was that they resembled flowers, as absurd as that was. The bed itself was covered in silky white and purple sheets and blankets. A mountain of pillows was piled against the headboard, each specially crafted for maximum comfort and arranged in an array of colors.

He carefully sat you down on the edge of your bed and stepped back, the sound of his armor clanking echoed through your room. Once again, he pressed a hand against his chest and kneeled before you. Unlike the many others who bowed at your feet, your heart raced when he did.

Of course, that was understandable considering he was one of the more attractive individuals within your kingdom. “I am going to select another article of clothing for you,” he knew that was normally the job of your lady’s maid, Uraraka Ochako, who happened to be another one of his close friends.

She too was of the lower class and wore patched-up clothing when not working. He understood that she had originally been dismissed when she fell at the King and Queen’s feet and begged them for a job so she could support her parents.

It was only because of your persistence that you convinced them to make her your lady's maid. She helped you with dressing, make-up, and hair care. She also kept your room neat and tidy. Tenya assumed she was absent because, like Izuku, she was ordered to find your whereabouts.

In any case, you needed to remove your dirty clothing as it was improper for royalty to have such an unpleasant appearance. “Hmm?” You tilted your head. “But I-” You leaned up, making the mistake of moving your injured ankle, and hissed when another jolt of pain came.

Tenya noticed this and frowned. “I would advise against moving your injured ankle,” he stated, although, at this point, he believed it was sprained. He stood up and walked over to your wardrobe, glancing at the various dresses you had available.

He tapped his chin, deciding which one suited you perfectly, and walked back to you. “Here we are,” he said, laying the dress on the bed beside you. “I will turn my back. Inform me when you are done or if you require assistance,” he stated before turning around. You pouted, seeing your reflection in his armor.

Your hair still looked disheveled, and you could see the dirt patches that stained your dress. ‘Well guess I could look worse,’ you thought before shifting your glance to the back of Tenya’s head. You tapped your cheek, debating about teasing him and why shouldn’t you? He was the reason your ankle hurt.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t necessarily true. While he had shut down your advances before, he could not refuse you this time. “Knight Iida,” you said, your voice holding that familiar authoritative tone that caused him to turn his head slightly. “Yes, Your Highness,” he replied. “I need help,” you said.

“What do you require assistance with?” he asked, refusing to turn around for fear he might see your exposed body. “Take off this dress,” you replied and found amusement in the way he flinched. “P-pardon?” he replied. Yes, he said he would provide you with assistance but didn't expect you to order him to disrobe you.

“I order you as my knight to take this dress off me!” you said before tilting your head. “After all, my Lady’s Maid isn’t here to help me and I can’t do it on my own,” you lied. However, Tenya was gullible so maybe he'd believe you.

A lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to respond, as did the rush of warmth that flowed through his cheeks, turning them a soft red color. He hesitated when he turned to look at you. Perhaps he didn't think this through thoroughly.

Yet again the thought that he couldn’t deny a royal’s request came to mind. However, like before, he wished to try and talk some logical sense into you. “Are you most certain you cannot perform this task?” he asked. “Yes, I'm sure!” you replied in a huff, and much like before he could feel your glare burning through him.

“I do not recall you complaining of any pain in your hands and your arms are free of scrapes or cuts,” he crossed his arms and your glare intensified. “Take. My. Dress. Off. Now.” you snarled, and he sighed. Upon second thought, perhaps he would be wasting time if he intended to argue with you.

The sooner he helped you, the sooner he could address and care for your ankle. “Very well,” he said, stepping closer. “Please raise your arms above your head,” he instructed, and you smiled, doing as he requested which was quite unusual. Princesses don't tend to take orders, but you made a special exception in Tenya’s case.

He grasped your wrists and closed his eyes before slowly tracing his hands down your arms. You trembled when he caressed your sides and hip curve. Your breath caught when he reached your thighs as he moved his hands to caress the back of them.

You latched onto your lip when his hands moved down and stroked the back of your legs before finally grasping the bottom of your dress. In one swift motion, he pulled the garment off you and allowed it to drop to the floor.

You shivered when the cool air hit your exposed skin and wrapped your arms around yourself. “Your Highness, shall we put on your fresh dress now?” he questioned and before you could answer, your door opened, and in stepped Uraraka.

She smiled and carried a clean pile of clothes for you. Tenya snapped his eyes wide open, turning his head toward the door. “Hello, Your Highness, I brought you-” she stopped talking when she realized what was before her.

A man was alone with you, and you were sitting on your bed completely bare apart from your undergarments. But the man wasn’t just any man, it was Tenya. A knight who served the royal family and was one of her closest friends.

“U-uh,” she looked mortified, and her face turned red. What an embarrassing sight to see. “O-Ochako!” Tenya stuttered; his face red as hers. “I c-can assure you this is not what it appears to be and I-” he turned when he heard your bed creak and immediately covered his eyes when he realized you were attempting to stand up.

You winced as soon as you put weight on your injured ankle and reached out to grab Tenya to steady yourself on one foot. You then hopped behind him to hide your exposed body from Uraraka. Although she had seen you like this many times, Tenya's presence made it different.

She shook her head and stumbled forward, throwing the pile of clean clothes onto the nearest chair. “I-I’ll j-just put this h-here, s-sorry!” she squeaked before rushing out of your chambers. Her heart was beating so fast she felt faint as she leaned against your now-closed door.

“Hm?” Tsuyu, a maid, walked by and noticed Uraraka’s unusual expression. “Are you okay?” she asked, but Uraraka wasn’t sure if she could speak at the moment, and even if she could, it wasn’t her place to share personal information, much less intimate information about a royal’s life.

Your heart was still racing and your face, along with the rest of your body felt hot. But Tenya’s armor was cool, and you pressed yourself against him, slinking your arms under his to keep him where he stood. “Y-Your Highness, may I…may I ask what you are doing?” His shaky voice was unusual to hear.

But that didn't stop you from nuzzling your cheek against the back of his armor. You waited for your embarrassment to fade before uttering the words, “Thank you.” Tenya raised his eyebrow, uncertain of what you were thanking him for.

However, he appreciated such words. He cleared his throat. “Y-you are quite welcome…Your Highness,” he said, his words lingering in the air for a moment. “Perhaps…” You lifted your head, your eyes wide with curiosity.

“We should put on your fresh dress now?” he suggested, making you realize or rather remember that you were still in your undergarments and yet again your face heated up. “Oh um, r-right,” you replied, lowering your hands.

“Please take your seat and I will assist you as ordered,” he said, pointing a gloved finger toward your bed. You pouted before carefully hopping over and pulling yourself back onto it. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before facing you.

“Please hand me the dress.” Your lips curled but you did as he requested. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he stated, bowing respectfully before turning once more and opening his eyes. He made sure the dress was facing the right way and rolled it up to make it easier to slip over your head.

“Please raise your arms,” he instructed, turning to face you again. His eyes remained closed even as he slipped the dress over your head. He tried his best not to allow his knuckles to brush against your bare skin. “It is rather rude and inappropriate to look at a bare woman of your status,” you growled.

“My status?” you repeated, as he tugged the bottom of the dress over your legs and sighed in relief before opening his eyes. “Yes, of your status, Your Highness,” he replied, noticing the confused but angered look in your eye. “Royal, young, and unmarried,” he clarified.

“You could change that you know,” you shot back, and he stiffened in response. “I…I…p-pardon?” he questioned, and you snickered as his cheeks turned red. While marriage crossed his mind occasionally, you were untouchable and likely would be betrothed to another royal.

However, he was unwilling to entertain the idea of you being handed over to a stranger. Surely no one else could protect and care for you as he did. Regardless, his personal feelings should not interfere with royal dealings, nor his knighthood or so he would try not to allow them to.

He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak when a knock sounded. Like before, he snapped his head toward your door, thankful that you were clothed this time around. “Yes?” he said, and seconds later Izuku walked in.

“Uh, h-hello Your Highness…I-Iida,” he stated, being careful not to spill the water that filled the basin. “Sorry it took a while, I had to help O-Ochako fold the l-laundry and-uh…” he shook his head, guess the rest didn’t matter. “It is quite alright, please allow me,” Tenya replied taking the basin from him.

He could feel the warmth of it and the two requested washcloths hung off one side of it. Tenya placed the basin on the floor in front of you and turned to Izuku. “Thank you Midoriya,” he said. “Oh, i-it was no trouble, um…” He turned to you and pressed his hand against his chest, bowing.

“I…I hope you feel better, Y-Your Highness,” he stated. “You may leave,” you said, shooing him away with your hand. He lifted his head, looking at you before nodding. “Um, y-yes,” he said turning to walk out the door, leaving you alone with Tenya again.

He kneeled, removing his gloves before taking one of the washcloths and dipping it into the water. He twisted it to allow any excess water to drip back into the basin before standing again. “May I wash your face, Your Highness?” he asked.

“Hm?” Your eyes widened and you brushed your fingers against your cheek, feeling the rough texture of dried dirt. Oh yeah, you had almost forgotten about that. “Um…y-yes,” you replied, pressing your hand against your chest.

“Are you well Your Highness? There is little reason to be embarrassed about your appearance. You are rather alluring, pulchritudinous. No amount of dirt nor darkness can collapse such beauty.” Your bottom lip trembled at his words, and you leaned back, turning your head to hide your blush.

‘Why did he have to say it like that?!’ As a royal, you were used to compliments but none felt as personal as Tenya's. “Hm?” He blinked, noticing your odd response. “Forgive me, did I…perhaps Your Highness did not wish to hear such things?” Your eyes widened, and you snapped your head back.

“I apologize and if you wish so, I will refrain from-” he stumbled back when you shot your arms out and frantically screamed, “No!” Your eyes widened and you clamped your hands over your mouth. You weren’t sure if you were more embarrassed over your own actions or the fact that anyone walking by heard you.

Luckily you didn’t hear knocks or frantic footsteps, so you assumed you were safe. You looked away from Tenya and lowered your hands. “I-it…your words were fine just…unexpected,” you replied nervously. “And a-anyways, w-wash my face already!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms.

You knew you were like a spoiled child, but Tenya didn’t comment. “Very well, pardon my touch,” he said as he stood up and gently placed his hand underneath your chin. You closed your eyes as the washcloth touched your skin and collected the obscene dirt.

Tenya carefully cleaned your face in one swift motion, watching the once-white towel surface turn brown. “There you are. I do hope this helps your discomfort,” he said before kneeling again. “Please present your ankle. I wish to clean it and apply a warm compress to ease the pain,” you chuckled.

Tenya certainly had a way about him. You caught your breath when you lifted your injured ankle. That same shooting discomfort made you tense up. “Forgive me, I do not wish to cause you further pain. I will wash it in a quick and tidy manner,” he assured and laid the clean side of the washcloth on your ankle.

The warmth brought some comfort, but you winced as he moved said washcloth around. “There we are,” he said after a minute and looked at you. “Apologies for causing your displeasure,” he stated. “It’s…fine,” you said sighing, angry at yourself for allowing this to happen.

He folded the dirty washcloth and hung it on the side of the wash basin before standing up again. “Your Highness,” he said, bowing. “I would favor moving you toward the front of the bed as I believe it would increase your comfort if you laid against your pillows with your injured ankle elevated,” he explained, and you frowned.

Was he going to leave after this? “Mm…” you tapped your lips a few times as he removed your remaining shoe. You should properly thank him if that were the case. “Okay,” you replied and wrapped your arms around him when he leaned back up.

He nodded and carried you toward the headboard which was partially hidden by the mountain of pillows. He gently positioned you on the silky sheets and guided your head onto the said pillows. Then he grabbed a few spare ones.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure why you had so many pillows, to begin with, but assumed it was due to your status. One must ensure the Princess is happy as she is the ideal representative of the kingdom and sets the atmosphere for her citizens.

He carefully stacked the pillows next to your injured ankle and looked at you. “Please move your ankle slowly,” he said. “I will assist if you so desire,” he added, keeping a respectful and kind tone of voice. “I think I can do it,” you replied, clenching your jaw when you lifted your leg.

You pushed through the pain and slowly lowered your ankle onto the stack of pillows, sighing in relief. “Very good, allow me to prepare the washcloth,” he said, walking back to the foot of the bed. You leaned your head back and focused on the ceiling.

You could hear water swishing, followed by rapid droplets. “Here we are,” he said, approaching you again. “I will be gentle, Your Highness,” he promised before laying the second and more importantly, clean washcloth over your ankle. He then tucked it behind your heel making you wince.

“Apologies,” he said, standing up and bowing again. “But the warm compress should alleviate the pain temporarily. I will inform Ochako to provide you with a fresh one every hour,” he stated. “Are you leaving then?” you asked with a frown, reaching out to him, but he remained where he stood.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he replied, placing his hands firmly at his sides. “There are no further duties to perform here, and I must return to the training ground to retrieve your shoe and tiara. I will ensure both get properly cleaned and polished before returning to you,” your frown deepened.

The last thing you thought about was your shoe and tiara. They weren’t significant, or at least not to you. You opened your mouth to speak, but Tenya lowered himself onto one knee. “Huh?” you blinked, wondering what on Earth he was doing.

“I am afraid I must apologize for my actions. I am aware I was following orders. But an act of violence toward the Princess, even in training, is an act of war against the Kingdom. I wish to abide by my duties as a knight. I wish to serve and protect you above all else.”

Your eyes widened and you pressed your hand against your chest, feeling your heart's gentle thumps. “Um…” you glanced away, with the faintest blush dusting your cheeks. You looked back after taking a deep breath and leaned over, placing your hand on his head.

“Hm?” He blinked, startled by your touch. “I’m glad you followed my orders today, and…” you paused, retracting your hand. “Stand up,” Tenya raised his head. “Pardon?” he asked, making you sigh in response. “I said, stand up,” you repeated, motioning with your hand.

He looked reluctant but stood up and placed his hands by his sides again. You smiled and traced him from head to toe. He was a well-trained knight, and you were sore you wouldn’t see his training session today, but you could still leave a long-lasting impression on him.

“Come here,” you said, beckoning him closer with your finger. Once again, thanks to his gullible nature, he approached and leaned over. “Closer,” he glanced away, looking uncertain, but leaned down further to be face to face with you.

He gasped when your hand rested on his cheek and your fingertips caressed the ends of his hair. “Y-Your Highness, may I ask what you are-” his voice faded when you leaned closer causing his cheeks to turn red and his body to tremble when you laid your forehead against his, then you slowly leaned in.

“Let me thank my knight for all he’s done for me,” you muttered. Every rational thought in his head urged him to pull away, or else he’d break the unspoken rule between social classes and intimacy. But his mind and heart were on different wavelengths.

Despite his thoughts, his body remained still even as you tilted your head and pressed your warm lips against his trembling ones. His breath hitched as if he had just received a blunt hit to the stomach, and tingles ran through his body.

This was a sensation he had not yet known. It was different from the adrenaline rush he gets when in combat or clashing his sword against another. It was more intense, more needy, and yet in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but fathom the reason why this moment. This instance of lips against each other was wrong.

He panted desperately when you pulled away, and your cheeks matched his in color. “Y-you…” he could not form the words and found little comfort in your smile. He ducked his head and scurried to the door, remembering to grab his gloves.

“I…I must leave now,” he stuttered, trying to ignore your laughter. When he closed your door, he tried to focus on breathing. You…you were the only force in this world that caused him to react in this manner. Never had he faced a more challenging foe.

He swallowed thickly and pressed his fingers to his lips, still shocked that you had dared to kiss him. While he would long to experience a relationship, his personal goals would no doubt clash with any possible romantic endeavor.

He lifted his head, glancing at the ceiling with hope flowing through his chest. Although it seemed impossible for royalty and commoners to mix. Perhaps the two of you could blur the lines between human decency and love within the kingdom.

#tenya x reader #tenya x you #tenya x y/n #iida x reader #iida x y/n #iida x you #bnha x you #iida x female reader #bnha x y/n #tenya x female reader #bnha x reader #bnha x self insert #bnha x female reader #faulty writes: tenya iida: 23 #faulty writes: tenya iida: one shot: 23

[geekthefreakout]

Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves was great, y'all: A Review

Spoiler Free: This movie was utterly sincere, and that was refreshing as anything. No meta-humor, no self-referential nonsense that would make it feel like it was embarrassed to be what it was. The characters were great and stand-out. The party as a whole struck the perfect balance that made it feel as chaotic as an actual DnD campaign would be. The humor hits pretty much all of the time, with several laugh-out-loud moments and many more little chuckles and smiles.

The story is simple, but feels true to a campaign as well. You have the main quest and the side quests. The rules around magic are fairly well defined. Their are a couple of elements regarding character arcs and story that could have been tweaked or added in that might have made it feel more complete or satisfying, but nothing huge. I found it to be emotionally satisfying, at the very least.

You can tell that there was a lot of love put into this movie. The cast are all having the time of their lives, and it's important (to me) to note that the VFX team never skimp on any character/species detail. The halflings are appropriately proportioned to the world and people around them. The tiefling (though a little tame looking for a tiefling) maintains having a tail in every scene, without them making a big deal about the fact that she has one.

This is a great movie for DnD fans. If you are not familiar with Dungeons and Dragons or TTRPGs in general, however, I still don't feel you will be missing much. It's an adventure fantasy, and a very accessible one at that, with found family and the power of self-respect and love driving its core.

8.5/10 for me.

Spoilers under the cut- and it's LONG, so be ready for that.

SPOILER TIME BABYYYYYY. This will be a breakdown of the movie's plot with my own insights- sometimes I will use DnD terminology as in my head I was imagining each roll of the dice. Scroll down to the end if you just want to see what I would have changed about the movie.

The way we are introduced to our two primary main characters, Edgin and Holga, is very fun. We meet them in a prison as they acquire a burly new cellmate, who they each deal with in ways that make it very clear who and what they are- Edgin being a smooth-talking, rakish Bard with a devil-may-care attitude, and Holga is a blunt yet loyal Barbarian with a love of potatoes who was exiled from her clan for falling in love with an outsider. We quickly segue into their escape from prison at their pardon-hearing, where we get to learn their back story: Edgin was once an honorable man and a Harper (an order who fights against evil while asking for nothing in return) who lost his wife to a Red Wizard attack and decided to cast aside his oath and honor both to become a thief.

He has a daughter who survived that attack, and Holga has helped him to raise her. Refreshingly, there is absolutely zero sexual or romantic tension between Edgin and Holga, who he refers to explicitly as being like a sister to him. They wound up in jail when on a quest to rob a vault which contained a Tablet of Reawakening, which Edgin planned to use to return his wife to life. They were betrayed by the witch Sofina (played with maximum menace by Daisy Head), who captured them in a time stop. Edgin entrusted the tablet and care of his daughter to his friend and party-member, Forge the rogue and con.

They escape on the wings of an unfortunate judge named Jonathan, who is an Aarakorca, despite the fact that Edgin totally passed the charisma check and the panel of judges were actually swayed to approve the pardon. This is when I knew I would love this movie.

Holga and Edgin set out to reunite with Kira (Chloe Coleman, who does great but is noticeably much lighter skinned than the actresses who played her as a baby and toddler), Edgin's daughter. Their daughter, really. They find her with Forge (played with delightful charm and sliminess by Hugh Grant), who has risen to become Lord of Neverwinter. She is angry with Edgin for abandoning her, because it turns out the Forge has been feeding her quite a different story for what the primary objective of that fateful quest was: she thinks they went after a Tablet of Riches. Edwig tries to explain himself, but Kira (who is happy enough to see Holga, at least) won't listen, saying that the bigger problem is that Edwig keeps speaking like it wasn't his fault. Forge, still in league with Sofina, has betrayed them, and secretly sends them to be executed, at which point Holga does that which Barbarians do so well and they escape, now with a new mission: to take down Forge and Sofina and rescue Kira from their clutches.

They set out to build their party, first picking up their friend Simon the Sorcerer (played adorably by Justice Smith), a half-elf whose self-doubt and bumbling ways often inhibit his ability to do more than cantrips reliably. He was also betrayed by Forge, but managed to escape and has been in hiding. He helps lead them to their next party member, a Tiefling Druid named Doric (awesome job, Sophia Lillis), who is also a wildshape. She distrusts humans, who have always let her down, but is loyal to the wood elves who took her in and whose lands have been under attack by Forge. Simon explains that he had once attempted to court her, but she said that his lack of self-esteem just made her sad. Thankfully, this romantic subplot, should it count as that, takes up very little space in the narrative, which is part of why it works so well.

Using Doric's wildshape abilities, they are able to learn that Forge has revived a kind of gladiatorial game intended to bring the city (and the city's riches) together, and that the vault which presumably holds the Tablet of Reawakening is protected by magic that is far too powerful for Simon to counter without the Helm of Disjunction. We also get more glimpses of Sofina's power here- she is able to sense Doric and nearly captures and kills her on a fast-paced chase through the city where Doric changes from fly to mouse to cat to bird to deer in order to escape. Finally, the viewers get to see (though the party doesn't) that Sofina isn't just a witch- she is a Red Wizard and Thayan too, and she plans to turn Neverwinter's people into members of the Red Wizard's undead army.

Simon doesn't think think that taking down Sofina is possible, as he wasn't able to match her magic before and doesn't feel that he's improved. He insists that magic cannot be used to solve every problem, his own magic least of all. Attuning to the Helm alone might take them years, even if they do manage to find it. Edwig insists that Simon is underestimating himself, and advises him not to tell the party of his doubts to keep up morale.

After an amusing diversion to Holga's ex-husband, Marlamin the Halfling (played by Bradley Cooper) and then to a sacred burial ground of her people to discover the fate of the Helm (DnD magic rules are used to great effect here), the party learns that they must seek out a Thayan named Xenk Yendar (played by a hilariously sincere and smoking hot Rege-Jean Page), a renowned Paladin that everyone except a disgruntled Edgin has heard of. Xenk runs a vibe check on Edgin, and apparently detects a Good alignment. He agrees to help them get the Helm, on the condition that Edgin swears to redistribute the wealth in Forge's vault to the people of Neverwinter and that he holds on to the Harper book- a book which Edgin had thrown onto his wife's funeral pyre after he forsook his vows as one. "You may have forsaken your oath, but your oath has not forsaken you." Xenk says to a stubborn Edgin.

We also learn that Xenk escaped the Red Wizard's take over of the Thayan's by the skin of his teeth as a child and lost his parents to it. This flashback helps the viewer (and the party, though they don't quite figure it out until later) what Sofina is planning for Neverwinter- releasing the red blight of death (honestly I cannot remember the real name, but it's an evil red cloud that turns people into red wizard zombies). We see here that the Blight has an area of effect, and that managing to get just outside of it is what saved Xenk from his parents' fate.

While retrieving the Helm, the party runs in with Sofina's cronies. Xenk takes them out in a fantastic display of badassery, but it cannot last long- it takes more power than what Xenk has to kill that which is already dead, and they begin to rise. However, they quickly cease being the primary threat, as their chaos has awoken a dragon. Hilariously, this is not the dragon seen in so much of the promotional material, but rather a very pudgy one, who still manages to wreak quite a bit of destruction with its large body and fire breath. Here we get to see some uses of the Hither-Thither staff, which Holga had believed was a walking stick she'd taken for her ex-husband. It allows Simon to open portals, as long as the destination is within 500 meters and a place that he can see. Edgin's brains are put to good use as well, as the party escapes the dragon with the helm.

At this point, Xenk leaves the party despite many requests for him to stay because he is much more capable than they are, telling them that it is not his quest, but theirs. There is a very funny moment as they watch him walk away, where Edgin notes that he walks in an unnaturally straight line and wonders if he will alter it to go around a rock in his path. He doesn't- he walks straight over the rock. That's paladin symbolism for you. Simon attempts to attune to the Helm while the party takes a break on the beach, but finds he is consistently repelled by a vision of his ancestor, who was a great Wizard and tells Simon that he is not worthy of wielding the helm's power. Edgin urges him to keep trying, but after several attempts where the Helm literally blasts itself off of him, Simon turns on Edgin and rants that he told him from the outset that he couldn't do it and that it wouldn't work, but Edgin refused to listen, and that Edgin is doing what he always does- making plans that don't work and then blaming other people for it. While Holga takes this in stride, Doric and Simon are both very angry. I was afraid for a moment that this would be one of those times where they split the party for Drama, a trope that I *hate*... but I needn't have worried.

Edgin then makes a compelling speech about how they are all failing in some way, and that they have to keep failing, because the moment that they fail and give up is when they really fail. He gives several examples about the rest of the party, and when Simon presses him about his own failures, he calls himself the King of Failures. He's failed as a father, as a husband, as a leader. He reveals that the Red Wizards that killed his wife were only able to find her because of a treasure he took while he was a Harper, not knowing that the treasures had tracking spells on them. It was his fault that his wife was killed in the first place. But Edgin can't give up, he says, because if he does then it will have all been for nothing. He then sits down to think of a new plan. Charisma check passes, because the party rallies behind him.

The party plans to use the Hither-Thither staff to get into the vault, figuring that if they leave a portal open on a piece of treasure, it will go into the vault and they will be able to get in that way. Edgin also suggests that they take the Helm as well and that Simon try again, saying that he actually does believe Simon can do it, because when it's do or die he always comes through. "You're at your strongest when you think you're at your weakest" he tells Simon.

They get into the citadel with a great scene wherein Edgin seems to distract the guards with a song on his lute- an excellent use of your bard and a chance for Chris Pine to show off his vocal charming chops. It turns out to be an illusion cast by Simon, however, who looses hold of it as he gets his foot stuck in a pothole. The way the illusion starts to skip like a broken record and then distort in disturbingly cartoonish ways is done very well by the actors and the VFX team, and certainly got a laugh in the theater.

After running through Plan C (which is the same as Plan A, but plan A has a stink on it) and Plan D (the same as plan B, but plan B has a stink on it), the party almost succeeds, but Sofina and Forge outwit them. Anyone who has ever played DnD or any TTRPG for that matter will be very familiar with how these plans come together, fall apart, and then come together again. The portal doesn't let Doric into the vault, but under the arena, where the treasures are being loaded onto a boat. She is knocked out and captured.

Simon manages to get to the vault and, faced with death should he fail, he puts on the helm and stands up to the vision of his ancestor, saying that he IS worthy of the power and he's sick of being told he is not. The vision turns into one of Simon himself and congratulates him- he has attuned successfully. He uses the Helm to cancel out the magic on the vault and to repel the guards attacking him, only to find that the vault is empty. He and Holga are captured.

Edgin finds Kira and explains to her that Forge has been lying, that he wants her to come away with him. He makes a pretty perfect apology, acknowledging that the Tablet of Reawakening was about getting back his wife rather than Kira's mom, as Kira had never known her. Unfortunately, this apology is wasted, as he is actually talking to a disguised Sofina, who captures him. Forge assures him that Kira is safe and will continue to be, as Forge really does care for her as if she were his own, but that Edgin has to die. Edgin asks that rather than being executed, the party be allowed to participate in the games that will be beginning shortly, to give them a chance. Forge is reluctant, saying that it would be kinder to just kill them now, but Sofina insists on granting that request, presumably so that she can take them into her undead army when she unleashes the blight.

The party enters the maze in the arena where the games are taking place, with Simon and Doric inhibited by magic-suppressing cuffs. They face monsters and other traps, but with each of them playing to their strengths and with Doric managing to lose her cuff, they make it to the center. Edgin finally makes a successful Detect Trap and recognizes that they won't be safe there, and Doric is able to get them out with some clever shape shifting and modest risk taking.

Combining their information, the party realizes both what Sofina is planning and what Forge is planning. Forge doesn't intend to stay in Neverwinter- he plans to let Sofina do her evil thing while he makes off with Kira and the treasure, which is why it was stored at the docks under the arena rather than in the vault. Interestingly enough, Sofina is completely aware of this, but has no interest in stopping him. In fact, she is so annoyed by him that she just wants him to get on his boat and leave. This is a rare example of two villains who have completely different motivations and goals, but whose plans align just enough to have them work together. There is no betrayal between them-- they each act exactly as the other expects them to, and they aren't bothered by it. The only problem is that it leads to there being two climaxes, and one is more rushed than the other.

The party is able to stop Forge at his boat, where he immediately threatens Kira's life if the party doesn't give him his treasure. This speeds Kira along to realizing that he has been the bad guy and to forgiving her father. They overpower Forge and seem to be making a getaway when they notice the signs of Sofina beginning the Blight. Edgin remembers his promise to Xenk, and has Simon use the Hither-Thither spell to send all the treasure on the boat to come spilling out of a hot air balloon, thus redistributing it to the people and sending the citizens of Neverwinter out of the arena to catch the falling treasure, and therefore outside of the Blight's area of effect. Forge regains access to the boat just in time to see all of his loot falling away from it, leaving him in despair.

That's the first climax, and at this point everyone's character arcs are mostly resolved. Simon is more confident, Kira is happy to be with Holga and Edgin again, and Edgin kept his promise. They have thwarted Sofina's plans. But, Sofina's still alive and kicking and we haven't had that boss battle yet, so time for Climax #2!

As Sofina rages, Edgin tells Kira to use a pendant that Holga had stolen for her when she was younger to stay invisible, hidden, and safe during the fight. Sofina rains fire down on the party, but Simon has Taken a Level in Badass and is able to match her for a short time. Doric transforms into an Owlbear to act as the Hulk of the group, and Holga proves herself proficient with several weapons. Edgin, who isn't much of a fighter, does get a few hits in with his lute (love that for him, though). It's a fast-paced fight, with every member of the party contributing, and which thankfully DOESN'T adhere to DnD rules (combat system not good for narrative storytelling). However, Sofina goes down pretty easily. For just a moment, it looks like all is lost as Sofina uses her time-stop, which Simon says he is still unable to counter... except it's all fine. Kira (little rogue in training that she is), manages to slap a magic-suppressing cuff onto Sofina while she's invisible, because as it turns out Simon WAS able to counter the time-stop. Owlbear!Doric then Hulksmashes Sofina to death (I murmured "puny god" to myself in the theater) and the day is saved... except that Holga has been mortally wounded.

If you're like my brother and I, you probably called back when they first confirmed that the Tablet of Reawakening still existed that one of the party was going to die and that they would use the Tablet (one use only) on that party member rather than on Edgin's wife. You might have even called it being Holga, which I did around the time that she mentions having dreamed of being buried in a sacred burial ground with her tribesmen, despite having been exiled. It's very predictable- but that's not always a bad thing.

Edgin and Holga sing a drinking song as she dies, with Kira sobbing and holding her, saying that she needs her. Holga tells them not to mourn, because she's happy to die a hero- that's her character arc, minimal though it has been. Edgin pulls out the tablet and reminds his daughter that they can only use it once- and of course she nods, because to her Holga is the mother she's known. The tablet returns her to life, and everyone is happy and it's very heartwarming.

From there, it's a quick wrap-up. The former Lord of Neverwinter, who was kept in a coma by Sofina, wakes up and grants legal protection to Doric's people and their lands. The party all receive medals. Doric acknowledges that humans are not all bad, and also agrees to let Simon have another shot at courting her now that he's got more confidence. Forge, holding on to the one piece of treasure he hadn't lost, is captured by Xenk, and we end on him trying to convince the same judges at the same prison Edgin and Holga were at in the beginning that all turned out for the best, and he's done a lot of reflection and so should really be pardoned.

He does NOT pass the charisma check. And that's it, really, aside from a funny mid-credits tag.

So, I think I went over most of the things that I loved already. Here is WHAT I WOULD CHANGE:

I think Forge turning on Kira happened very quickly and didn't fully make sense, outside of being a vehicle for getting her to trust her dad again very quickly. I would have preferred for Kira to be more of a character with more agency. To this end, I would have had her use her invisibility pendant (which she has the whole time and says that she often uses to sneak around the castle) earlier. She could have realized that Sofina was a Red Wizard, or overheard some pieces of the puzzle that may not have clarified everything for her, but at least sewn the seeds of doubt. That, or had her flat out not believe that Holga and Edgin would leave her a second time, even if she is still angry at Edgin.

I might also try and consolidate the climaxes a bit more- while I think Forge was a fun villain, thwarting him and Sofina so separately makes the fight with Sofina seem a little extraneous, though the movie's fast pacing helps with this.

Doric is mostly a static character- she's a lot of fun and I enjoy her, but she doesn't really have much of an arc. She has a goal when she joins the party, and at the end of the movie that goal is achieved.

Holga's arc gets less attention than it should- she doesn't really change throughout the movie either. I would have liked to see either someone for her tribe or her ex-husband there at the end when everyone was getting their awards, so that she could have made good on showing them what she was worth. (That said, I thought it was great that there weren't any bad feelings between her and Marlamin, who has moved on from her but genuinely wishes her happiness).

Finally, my brother noted (though I myself didn't really have this problem) that Simon's Badass Level Up at the 11th hour felt disengenous, because it's one thing to say that he has trouble with big magic because of his poor self-esteem, and quite another for him to suddenly be able to match Sofina's might. His spells are not as impressive as hers, but he does hold his own, with the party also serving as distractions to her.

And... that's the review. Hope you liked it.

#dungeons and dragons #dnd movie #honor among thieves #dnd honor among thieves #movie review #dnd movie spoilers #edgin the bard #xenk yendar #simon aumar #edgin darvis #holga kilgore #doric the druid #sofina the red wizard #chris pine #michelle rodriguez #justice smith #sophia lillis

[axieta]

Hungry eyes

|Henry Winter x reader|

Chapter 3

When her eyes become brighter

I think it’s about time I told you why I call her the agent of chaos. It is not by all means provoked by her frivolous disposition, although I have to admit that she had a knack for and was particularly prone to concocting practical jokes; some harmless like switching the refills of bullet pens blue to black, black to red, red to green, or nose flicks or lies so ridiculous and obvious they turned comic. And others rather not so much - I’m speaking here about switching the sugar in our class’ cabinet for salt (till this day, when I think about Aristotle, I can feel the salt at the edge of my tongue).

And yes all of that was chaotic in its almost innocuous manner, but that’s not the kind of bedlam I have in mind whilst thinking of her.

You see, she was, above all and first and foremost a free woman. Spirit made of wind, urged never to give way to others, never to stutter or waver in her actions.

As much as the idea of using technology repelled her, any attempt at forcing her to submit or respect any sort of authority, put her in the most vicious mood.

It is not to say than anyone had ever officially tried to put reins on her; but the longer I observed her I begun to notice how detested she seemed in public spaces, in libraries, bars, school- especially Julian’s classroom. For some unknown reason, while everyone was chatting and just soaking in the many ideas, themes, ideologies Julian threw our way, she always seemed to recoil into herself as if the sheer sound of the man’s voice made her cringe.

I think it was a problem of authority, or even just common, social rules, she had to obey in those spaces. And you know, there is nothing worse for a free spirit than limitation.

After lessons like this- conversatoriums- she almost always provoked Bunny in one way or another. Either by voicing a snarky comment, or just by physically tormenting him, tripping, pinching, punching. It was all fair game as no one really cared if anything happened to Bunny, or rather, no one believed she would really harm him. In all truth it was pretty funny to watch Edmund struggle against her, a girl almost half his size, jumping around him and shouting profanities in Greek and Latin.

I think it was her way of venting her frustrations that must’ve accumulated during conversatoriums.

She also argued with Bunny a lot. Conflict of interests I guess, her the ever unrelenting libertarian, and him, a stone cold I-don’t-even-know-but-sure-ass-hell-not-libertarian.

Bunny indulged her one more than one occasion, I don’t even know why. In their oral spars, she was always the one to come out victorious.

For every vicious word Bunny spoke, she had a tirade ready to push him back into the offense, or if we were lucky, to shut him up.

She was like that, unapologetically and almost aggressively liberal. An equalist who valued nothing higher than human life and freedom. It was only natural that she and Bunny would butt heads.

Back then I didn’t think much of her convictions, but now, looking back I think what happened to her, to all of us, was heartbreakingly tragic in the light of what she had tried to teach us.

The day after our delicious and balanced, coffee and cigarette based breakfast was Sunday. The day I dreaded most as it usually meant that we would all be leaving the summer house and moving back to Hampden for the most foreseeable future. Also, that particular weekend I travelled there with Henry and Bunny and I didn’t know if I felt completely comfortable driving with them, knowing what I knew, and witnessing what I had witnessed.

Thankfully, she came to the rescue.

‘Walk with me Richard Papen.’

She said, as we were closing the blinds, making sure that nobody would break in during our absence. We had to be very thorough with that, as the behemoth of a house surely was a tempting booty for burglars and thieves of all sorts.

‘Pardon? Where?’

I’m ashamed to admit that, but in our conversations I mostly asked incredulous, stupid questions like that.

‘To Hampden of course.’

And she said that as if it was the most obvious of truths in the universe.

My mouth fell agape. And then I laughed. I don’t think I laughed well enough during that year. But with her it was easy. Serious or not, all that she said was so abstract, so far away from me that I couldn’t help but to.

‘Surely you’re joking. It must be at least a three-hour walk.’

She looked at me, all serious with that sharp spark in her eyes.

‘Well for me it’s two, but with you it would be four. You’re not very athletic are you?’

Not even the jab she threw at me could wash away the dumb smirk from my face.

‘Sure. A four hour walk to Hampden. Why not?’

I don’t know why it was so easy for her to pull me into that arduous project. It just felt right. It had always been like that with her. After that weekend, no matter what she did, if she wanted me to do it as well, I would.

So yes, it felt right.

Autumn in full swing, hills and valleys of Hampden, sweat, strain and her. It all just fit together.

‘You’re going to Hampden with her?’

Camilla came into the room, Charles right behind her, heavy bag under his arm, its weight, curtesy of, as I could only assume, many a stolen books from the house’s library.

Camilla smiled gracefully, like no one could and I felt my knees buckling under the weight of her beauty. I think her hair was particularly shiny that morning.

‘Ya. Have you ever walked to school from here?’

‘Me? Please!’

Camilla scrunched her nose when she laughed, and once again, I think that no one in the whole wide world could invoke such a charming sound.

‘I wouldn’t be able to keep up with her, believe me I tried. But Francis did.’

‘I hear my name and hereby I come!’

Francis jumped through the door in an aggressive splash of pale blue, fiery red and frills.

‘What were you rascals on about? Were you talking behind my back?’

‘Oh, no Fran darling, we could never!’

Charles and Camilla laughed in unison at my accomplice’s dramatic tone.

‘Then tell me mon coeur what is the pressing matter of this gathering?’

He circled the room with his hand as he showcased what gathering he had in mind.

They both were so animatedly dramatic in their exchange - even more so when Francis jumped close to her and clasping her hands into his, pulled her close to his chest - that it was very hard to keep a straight face.

‘Nothing much, I’m just taking Richard for a walk.’

Francis’ owlish laugh filled the room as he rubbed his hands together in the most villainous gesture. Mischief bloomed on his face, twin to the half mad glee that shined on her’s.

‘Oh-hoho, my brother! You are in for a ride! Or rather, a walk I should say!’

‘I hear you’ve already tried your strength in this department?’

‘Sure did… Sure did. And then I couldn’t lift a finger for three days!’

We all joined in laughter at the pained expression he made, and the three fingers he had ironically raised, high into the ceiling, as if awaiting a roll of judgment or a reparation for his suffering from any higher power residing in the upstairs bedroom, right above us.

‘I’m telling you! This woman is a Dea-mon!’

‘Dulcis flava, you hurt me!’

She grabbed her chest, seemingly in great, overwhelming pain and collapsed with a yelp, free falling back right into my arms. I caught her with a little umph, although not soon enough and her butt hit the floor with an emphatic smack.

‘Cruci!’

Camilla covered her mouth with both her hands and although her eyes expressed nothing but pure horror, I could see her mouth curling upwards slightly.

I bet we would erupt into another fit of laughter if it wasn’t for the dark figure appearing in the doorway.

A grim reaper, Henry, stepped in, with his usual grimace, and it was as if air has gone out of the room.

‘What’s all this commotion?’

His raspy voice sounded unnatural, almost not present and for it all the more intimidating.

‘Weren’t you supposed to be cleaning up the house?’

Then his gaze fell on me, still hunched over and red with residues of laughter with her in my arms. I could only imagine how this- her splayed across me, and me seemingly blushing with affection, leaning over her, embracing her fainted figure- must’ve looked like for him. I saw it in his eyes, in the metallic glint of them and the horrible shadow that for a brief moment that seemed to be shorter than a second, completely twisted his face into a grotesque mask of pure hatred. It hadn’t last long, at least not long enough to register and mull it over properly, but I remember it. And every time it pops back up in my mind now, I feel shivers running up and down my spine for it was the single most petrifying experience in my whole life. If Henry had a gun, I’m sure. I would be dead on the floor in the same instance his eyes had laid on me.

‘Richard what are you doing?’

He walked towards us slowly, circling around the group like a caged animal, a feral tiger ready to sink his teeth into whoever dared to speak first. Cunning and lithe. Quiet and deadly.

Hunched over he looked as if he really was readying himself for pouncing on the most misfortunate one of us.

‘I’m taking Richard for a walk.’

She pushed herself up, away from my grasp, her touch suddenly hotter than a white metal rod, sharper than a diamond. I squirmed away. His eyes followed me around the room and I felt them all over my body, climbing up and down me like an importunate swarm of ants.

‘Is that so?’

‘Yes. We’re going to Hampden.’

‘To Hampden you say?’

‘Yes. Hampden.’

‘In that case I ought to walk with you.’

‘You can’t.’

Strained tension filled the room as she said those words. Everyone’s head turned to her in a silent expression of dread. No one told Henry what to do. Ever. Not in that tone, not in those words. And yet she did. With straight back, head held high and the kind of conviction painted on her face and etched into her words that would make any man crumble.

‘I can’t?’

He didn’t crumble.

‘You got here by car. It would be most inconvenient to leave it here.’

‘Bunny will be more than happy to take it for a spin.’

‘It’s a long walk.’

Her squinted eyes fell to his legs as she tasked his hunched figure with a vile smirk on her mouth.

‘I wouldn’t like you getting any more hurt, than you already are.’

The comment, however veiled with false, concerned tone, visibly stung Henry. He threw his head back, opened his mouth, like he wanted to bite back, but nothing came from him, and he was left there, silent, looking like a suffocating fish. It was a brilliant fléche, one he could in no way dodge or par.

Everyone in the room knew of his stiff walk and the reason for it. Nobody knew though she would dare to use it against him.

She snickered with cold satisfaction.

Camilla was the first to break the uncomfortable silence that fell between us. Something like disquietude painted across her soft features.

‘Henry, it is a long walk. It would be better if you took your car.’

His head snapped at her gustily and with a loud crack, as if he was just taken out of a trance. There was nothing soft in the look he threw her. Wild, dark eyes tasked her with pure venom and for a second I thought she would be the unfortunate one to take his wrath upon herself.

But to my relief, he pressed his mouth into a thin, displeased line, and just like the night before, silently went out of the room.

The moment his dark coat vanished behind the curve of the corridor, a unanimous, relieved sigh escaped the lungs of everyone at present.

‘Guess that’s taken care of.’

Her words, despite her victory over Henry, sounded bitter. Almost as if she wanted him to stay and argue with her some more, convince her to let him go with us.

Everyone slowly started to sneak out from the room. Their postures slightly hunched over, faces pulled with painful expressions, shoulders heavy with the weight of the exchange they just witnessed.

She stayed though. Still with unchanging straight back she stared her vicious eyes into the door frame as if beckoning with her sheer willpower for Henry to come back. To continue their debate.

But he didn’t come. And sure enough, after not so long time had passed we heard Bunny’s whiny voice outside and a roar of an engine.

Henry left. And she was left waiting.

It was a beautiful day. The kind of a day you see only if you’re very lucky and only at the beginning of Autumn. When sun shines high in the sky and it is warm when its rays fall onto your face, but also if you would dare to submerge yourself into shadows you’d feel an overwhelming chill.

The air was crispy, sky intensely blue, so sharp it stung my eyes when I tried to look directly up into it, and the trees were just at the start of their journey to baldness, barely kissed gold by Carpo, leaves not yet fallen.

Birds chirped over our heads in their triangular formations. Crows or ravens. I’m no ornithologist, so I wasn’t sure.

I breathed in the subtle smell of fall. Still young, unstained with decomposure.

‘It’s nice isn’t it?’

She spoke to me, throwing her arms out, as if to hug the picturesque landscape before us.

Her eyes were somehow lighter with the sun shining idly above them. They seemed bigger, more merciful when not entrapped inside the four walls I would usually see her in. It was like in that moment, in that particular spot, she was finally able to breath.

Cooled ground cracked underneath our feet.

‘The open space.’

I nodded me head.

‘It’s quite… grand.’

She hummed, clearly pleased with my response. Shuffling closer to me, she flung her arm over my neck and whispered into my ear, her words coming in quick feverish sentences.

‘Look there, see?’ Her free hand stretched to the spot where the green hills touched the sky, far away from us. ‘The horizon.’

A gust of bone-chilling wind came our way. In the distance, where she was pointing out to me, the grass ruffled and shook like hair on a woman’s head.

Her scent surrounded me as the wind embraced our hugged forms. She smelled like dreams.

‘If you close your eyes, come on Richard, close your eyes!’ I closed my eyes. ‘If you close your eyes and think of it hard enough, are you thinking? If you do, you can imagine it stretching endlessly into nothingness. Wild and quiet and full of things neither you nor I could ever comprehend. And it goes on and on, develops and unfolds into something unfathomable and uncharted. You can imagine nothing and anything, but you will never truly know what the horizon hides. You will never reach it.’

With my eyes closed and her words flowing directly into my ear I discovered, to my greatest astonishment, that I could indeed feel the ground stretching and forming under my feet.

‘Do you hear it? That’s life. The circle of time, always going forward but repeating itself on end. That’s death.’ I could hear the grass growing and slowly fading in the distance, the leaves in the treetops turning red. Creeks drying out, animals running in the distance. It was pure horror, the decay coming my way. Unrelenting, timeless, incorruptible. I knew that once it was done with shredding through the horizon, it was going to come directly for me. My eyes snapped open to the image of her delighted face right before me. There was something truly animalistic in the tilt of her head.

‘Bravo. You’ve got some imagination.’ In all honesty, I think it was more her words than anything that put me in that agog state. ‘Look at you. You’re all sweaty.’

Her hand swiped something off my forehead and then fell down my arm (I think she wiped it on my coat) and reached for my hand.

With an reassuring squeeze she tugged me forward.

‘Come on. Let’s touch the horizon.’

And she lunged forward.

I hand no choice but follow but I felt somehow inept running behind her, like a newly born calf trying to keep up with its mother.

She was fast. With long, beautiful limbs that stretched in her every step. Her hair tangled in the wind, glowed in the sun like millions of diamonds strung together in an intricate multi-strand collar. Head thrown back and reddened cheeks made her look otherworldly.

‘Wait! What are you- You can’t touch the horizon!’

Her laugh resounded all around me. It bounced off the tree trunks, swam in the sea of grass underneath my feet, flew with the birds over my head.

Despite many rocks and an uneaven terrain, she never faltered or lost her balance. Not even once had she to stop in her tracks. Contrary to me, who almost lost his life due to slippery pebbles running from beneath my feet more times than I could count on fingers of the both of my hands. It was as if she wasn’t even touching the ground, but barely grazing it, dancing on the air above.

By the time we reached the peak of the hill, she’s been dragging me behind her, no more air in my lungs to be spared, blood thumping painfully underneath my face. She on the other hand looked refreshed, as if running up the hill wasn’t at all tiring for her.

‘Did we- ahh, did we touch the damn horizon already?’

I had to support my hands on my knees and hang my head between them, otherwise I was sure I’d puke.

‘What? Of course not dummy. You cannot reach the horizon.’

My head snapped up at her with the intent of throwing her a murderous glance but I suddenly felt sick, so it fell once again between my legs.

‘Then why did we, in the name of all that is holly, run up that hill?!’

My voice was strained with the lack of air and the bile that started to come up my throat.

‘Because I felt like it.’

The straightforwardness of her words struck me as something characteristically her, yet incredibly cruel.

‘Why did you feel like it? I didn’t.’

I pointed at my red, clearly unwell face and she snorted a short laugh. She cross-sat right before me which made me a little bit uncomfortable because now I not only had to worry about puking from exhaustion but also puking at her.

Her big eyes looked up at me.

‘Richard, do you know who the happiest man in the history of the world was?’

‘What? What does it have to do-‘

‘Do you?’

‘Dunno’ I chugged. ‘Alexander?’

She laughed once again and somehow in that moment even I couldn’t deny her beauty.

‘As much as I wish it was true, I’m afraid you’re wrong. Good guess though. A close one. I will remember that.’

‘Then who?’

She looked over her shoulder, into the distance, mulling something over.

‘Diogenes.’

I raised my brows at that. She never seemed to be a philosophical type of a girl. More of a historian than a deep thinker.

‘Didn’t he…?’

‘Live in a barrel? Yes.’

‘And that’s why he is the happiest man in the history? Because he slept in a barrel?’

Another snort from her compelled me to kneel down and take in her face. There was nothing malicious about it in that moment.

‘Sometimes you’re such a simple man, Richard Papen. It intrigues me.’

‘I will take it as a compliment.’

‘As you should.’

I laid back in the grass. The ground underneath me was a bit frozen and uncomfortable, but I felt my breaths coming in easier, less hurriedly and that was enough.

‘Thanks. So tell me, how does living in a barrel make you happy?’

I closed my eyes and felt the grass give away somewhere to my right. Guess she lied down as well.

‘It is not just living in a barrel, Richard. If it was that simple, there would be no infrastructure, no homes, no estates.’

‘Then what is it?’

‘You see Diogenes thought up an idea, a way of life, so ridiculous, so outside everything that the men of Ancient Greece knew, that no one could even tell him to abandon it. He ate when where and what he wanted, did what he desired to do and slept when and where he chose. By it he became so independent, so free, that his own existence, and it alone was a statement.’

I looked at her while she was talking. The way her eyes jumped from point to point on the horizon, her mouth shaped every word and her hands drafted unidentifiable shapes in the air. It all made her look a tad bit crazed, manic even. The speed at which she spoke cemented that impression, but I couldn’t help but listen to her. And nod along with her every word. She was like a vortex, enchanting, hypnotizing, beaconing.

‘Even my Alexander saw him for who he was. If I wasn’t Alexander I would like to be Diogenes.’

I laughed at that. It was very on par for her to steer right into the territory of the great Macedonian.

‘So freedom. That’s what made him the happiest man in the world?’

‘Precisely. I do what I want, when I want. Just like he did. And it makes me happy.’

A long silence fell between us. As I collected myself I watched as she picked at and tore out small patches of grass. She had very slander, nymph hands. If I didn’t know any better, and if they weren’t perpetually stained with green ink, I would take her for one.

‘Do you feel any better?’

She asked me quietly, almost gently.

‘I think I need to lie a bit longer.’

‘It’s alright. Take your time. We’re in no rush.’

It was nice. To lay down with her like that. Feel her presence. Listen to her mumble about Alexander some more.

‘Do you think everyone should be free? Like Diogenes? Does everyone deserve it?’

‘I think that everyone deserves to be happy. So, if for me, freedom is synonymous with happiness, then I guess, yes. I think everyone should be free.’

‘Let me guess, in your ideal world, we’re all sleeping in barrels, aren’t we?’

I snorted at my own joke, but her face stayed serious. I’ve never seen her so focused as in that moment.

‘No, oh god no! If we all did the same thing, it would not make us anymore free than we already are. It would only give us a new set of rules and therefore rob us out of our freedom. No. Freedom is personal. You have to find it by yourself. Plus, do you even imagine, let’s say, Camilla sleeping in a barrel?’

I, in fact, couldn’t. Somehow in my mind, a marble princess like her didn’t even fit in a landscape of people sleeping like that. For me there was only one place she would fit in- The Parthenon.

‘And what if I don’t want to be free? What if I like to be told what to do by others?’

‘Then that is your choice. No one can take it from you, because the sheer act of making that decision proves your free will. These are your shackles, but they are yours and because of that no one can touch them.’

‘There is no escaping your freedom, huh?’

‘In my perfect world there isn’t. You choose your own confinement the same way you choose your escape. For me it’s running up the hills, chasing the horizon. Do you know what it is for you?’

Listening to her had a therapeutic, almost medicinal affect on me. Usually I could listen to her melodic, deep voice for hours on end. And that day was no exception. She pulled words from my mouth and I didn’t even realize I was speaking. With her I was somehow more daring, more straightforward. It was as if she sprayed some sort of encouraging chemical in the air, and I couldn’t, for the love of my live, I couldn’t shut up.

‘Why are you asking me this? Do you think me not a free person?’

Her smart eyes pierced me. They appeared to be looking through me, right into my soul.

‘I think you a sad one, Richard Papen.’

‘And you want me to be happy?’

She nodded. Her shiny hair cascaded over her shoulder, ink-stained hands run through the mane of grass that surrounded them. Some of the un-wilted flowers got in between her fingers.

I eyed her somnolent figure.

With her hair splayed around her head and fistfuls of flowers and grass I couldn’t help but think that Ophelia herself had laid right next to me.

‘Why?’

It was a very normal question for me to ask. After all, I don’t think anyone ever wished another person to be happy. Usually we revel in other’s misery. In the fact that we are better or have better lives than them, than the dreaded third body. I myself caught myself wishing the most disgusting, gruesome futures on others on multiple occasions, many of them my friends. So the idea of someone genuinely wishing me to be happy, free, content with my life was so abstract, so grotesque I couldn’t fathom it.

And yet there wasn’t a note of false in her voice. Not a trace of a lie in her eyes. So I had to ask.

‘Le seul moyen d'affronter un monde sans liberté est de devenir si absolument libre qu'on fasse de sa propre existence un acte de revolté.’

She spoke French beautifully. The s’, r’s and f’s slithered their way out of her mouth like poetry incarnate. Every syllable chanted like a part of a prayer with a distinct rhythmic flow. It was the most beauty speech I’ve ever heard. So much so, I almost missed the core meaning of it. I felt hypnotized by her mouth.

‘Who said that Richard?’

She stood up. Tall and etheric, in all her glory, unapologetically her.

‘Who said it? I don’t know.’

‘It was Camus.’

‘Camus?’

‘Yes Richard, Camus!’

She stretched the last syllable of the philosopher’s name and howled into the sky like a wolf. I laughed, god how I laughed at her, and then, without a second thought I joined her yelp.

That was freedom, the bark of a feral animal that’s been crumpled up inside of me for too long. Completely opposite of the dread I felt while imagining the stretching horizon. To scream like that, and scream with her, knowing there was someone beside me felt good. We yelled until there was nothing of the surname. No familiar syllable, no known consonant and the renowned name Camus rang across the hills with no coherence or meaning.

I though I started to feel happiness bloom inside of my chest.

And then we howled some more, until my throat started to hurt.

We climbed down the mountain right when the sun started to come down from it’s zenith.

She gave me her scarf, so the fumes of dreams wreathed me with a light shoal of calmness. For the first time in a while I didn’t mind the silence that fell between the two of us.

————————————————————————

‘You like freedom.’

She jumped through a fence and gave me her hand so I could do the same. It was getting dark, very fast, so I appreciated the help. I was glad I could already see the lights of Hampden looming in the distance.

‘I do.’

I liked how the orange and bright yellow bulbs danced in the distance, seemingly suspended in the air. Their light came to my eyes distorted with a quiet shine to them. They weren’t flickering like the feeble candlelight at Francis’, but I still felt compelled to place them in the same mystic, ethereal category.

‘Hmm.’

‘Hmm?’

‘You like Henry.’

‘Hmm…’

‘But you don’t like Julian.’

‘What makes you say that?’

I shrugged, not knowing how to describe it to her. The way that I saw her behave around the teacher might’ve not been all to conscious. And I didn’t really feel confortable explaining it all to her.

‘Well, you know. You just don’t look like you love him. And everybody loves him, so I just wanted to ask.’

She laughed, but it was nothing like the snorts I heard all day. It was dry, almost ironic and cruel. I saw the dangerous glint in her eye. I recognized it from the night before.

‘You mean all the seven people he teaches? The only students he happens to have?’

I felt shivers running down my spine and it wasn’t for the quickly dropping temperature.

‘What are you getting at?’

‘How many people are you close with in Hampden? How many teachers talk to you, know your name? With how many of them do you dine?’

‘I guess it would only be with you guys.’

‘Hmmm. Us and Julian. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice him yesterday at the table.’

Now we entered the small city that laid half an hour away from Hampden and with the appearance of the pedestrians, the lamps and buildings I could see how her features set and froze over. Her eyes shrunk over again and she grew more agitated with every person that passed by.

‘Don’t be like that. I saw Julian. I wasn’t that drunk. But he accepts like, every third invitation.’

‘He’s our teacher. He shouldn’t accept any.’

Her words came out dry, matter-of-factly.

‘Wow’ I shook my head so harshly I lost balance and almost bumped into some guy. She grabbed me by my forearm and pulled closer to her. Out of habit, I hooked my arm with hers. ‘You really must hate him.’

‘No. It’s not that I hate him…’

‘I really think you do.’

I pointed my finger right at the middle of her chest in the most accusatory gesture I could muster. She let out a strained laugh and slapped it away.

‘No I don’t! I don’t care about him. He’s just another old man. I just think that as a teacher he is… kind of, well, you know… dangerous.’

I must’ve looked really dumbfounded by this revelation because she rolled her eyes and continued with a deep dolorous sigh.

‘Don’t you see how much authority he has over us? No matter what Henry does, he goes to Julian for his advice. Henry never needs anyone’s reassurance, except for the times he does and by some fucking miracle it’s always Julian he’s seeking.’

She was now hissing from behind her clenched teeth, her every word drawled so low I could barely hear her. And there was something else hidden behind her words. Something like frustration or… jealousy.

‘And the dinners. Oh, the dinners. Francis and Camilla almost loose their minds every time he says he’s coming. Richard, they prepare two meals in case he doesn’t like the first one.’ She grew more and more furious, with every word she would shake her head and her hair swirled around her like little snakes. In that moment, when I looked at her she was pure venom, with bonfires lit ablaze in her eyes and teeth bared as if she was talking about a man who murdered her family and not a profesor with whom she had most of her classes. ‘Wake up and smell the fucking coffee. He has so much influence over them it’s ridiculous. I don’t think they can even do as much as think before checking if it’s okay with his philosophies. It’s like they are addicted to him. He has them wrapped around his finger, and they can’t even see that he is not opening their eyes with his backwards gibberish mumbling, but isolating them from the world.’

I felt her arm squeeze me with a force I could only expect from her. I whined and she looked at me with shock.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Richard. I guess I got carried away a bit.’

I offered her a strained smile.

‘It’s alright I don’t mind.’

‘I’m sorry.’

She smoothed the sleeve of my coat with her hand.

After that we didn’t talk much. She looked quite debilitated with her rant and I couldn’t get my thoughts together after what I had heard from her.

I walked her home, she rented a small flat not so far away from my dorm, so I didn’t have to walk too long to get to where I needed to be.

My bed. God how tired I was.

I didn’t even take my clothes off, despite all the mud and dirt and grass stuck to it I couldn’t muster the energy to do so. Guess the exhaustion from the walk that turned out to be much longer than four hours was getting to me.

I lied in my unmade bed, aghast with all that I had heard that day. From Henry’s surrender, the idea of freedom and to the unpleasant opinion she had about Julian. It all swarmed in my head, murmurous with the buzz of a thousand thoughts per hour.

That night I didn’t get much sleep, because every time I closed my eyes I saw her enchanting face, set aflame with vexation, eyes digging into my soul.

She was etched into my mind, just like she was a few hours before, illuminated with city lights, neck bare, long, swan-like and her legs, deft, stepping on air, she was the spitting image of Themis.

I couldn’t sleep, so I got out of my bed and wrote all in green ink:

Today I saw a lighthouse in the middle of an enraged sea. She was a woman with eyes so bright, she guided ships to their harbors. She was free and she was alone. But that was fine with her, for that freedom is synonymous with happiness. What a woman, I think I’ve never seen someone so terrifyingly absorbing.

As I scribbled that, a thought came into my mind.

I wanted to be free. More than anything in this life, I wanted to be free, in my own, enslaved manner.

#bunny corcoran #charles macaulay #camilla macaulay #henry winter #francis abernathy #henry winter x reader #the secret history #richard papen #afab reader

[stormkobra-5]

The House of Fett: Part 3

Pairing: Poe Dameron x ForceUser!Mando!Reader

Chapter No.: Part 3/28

[Part 1] [Part 2]

[Series Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Summary: You’re Y/N Janghis Fett, the only daughter of the infamous bounty hunter himself; but you are a rare Force-wielding Mandalorian, having been trained by Luke Skywalker but refusing to become a Jedi. When the legendary ace pilot of the Resistance, Commander Poe Dameron– unfortunately, your unrequited love interest– comes to request your aid in finding your old mentor, you can’t refuse. But after visiting the Jedi Temple within the Academy on Tython, things are now… complicated. You’re being hunted by Kylo Ren, once your brother Ben, who sensed your presence at the temple. According to your long-dead Gray Jedi mentor, Luke is nowhere you’ll find him easily. The Resistance is now doubling the search for Jedi expert Lor San Tekka, who may have information on Luke’s last-known whereabouts. But… now you’ve also somehow formed a Dyad with Poe, complicating things between you– and potentially, complicating the mission.

A/N: Green lightsaber breaks indicate that the following is from the Reader’s perspective. X-wing breaks indicate that the following is from Poe’s perspective. At some point, I ran out of image slots and so had to use bold print of their last names to determine POV changes.

Notes: Woooooo!!! It’s finally here!!! Part 3 of my personal fave!!! I did tweak the comics a bit, but not very much. I tried to keep it as canon-compliant as possible.

Mando’a:

Ner cyar’ika: my beloved

Ner runi/ner uvete: my soul/my world

Utreekov: idiot

Buir: father

Harran: hell

Me’ven: Huh? What? [Bewildered, stunned]

Bic ni skana’din— sushir at ni!: This is pissing me off— listen to me!

Ba’slan shev’la: Strategic disappearance

Rating/Warnings: 18+, canon typical violence and gore, NSFW themes, male masturbation implied, mention of sex/knowing how sex works, reader is a virgin/inexperienced, making out, non-sexual nudity, mention of wounds/injuries, wounds/injuries described, angst, pining, fluff, yearning, idiots to lovers, strong language, Terex is a bitch, I’m sure there are plenty more I’m probably missing, spoilers for the Poe Dameron comics

“Well,” said the voice of your Master, jolting you and Poe from your unconscious states— and causing a chaotic mess of tangling limbs as the two of you tried to hurriedly scramble to your feet in confusion. “It’s about time you got up.”

“What the fuuuck,” Poe muttered as he untangled his legs from yours, face flushed. “The hell happened?!”

You groaned as your aching body protested your sudden movements, muscles cramping and tense. It was Qui-Gon, however, that answered his query. “You felt it, did you not? The bonding between you and Y/N?”

“Bonding?” Poe demanded breathlessly, shielding his face with a hand from the harsh glares of morning sunlight. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s rare,” Qui-Gon answered, and you felt dread settle in the pit of your stomach. “But it has been known to happen. Something connects you two, something… unique. And now the Force has drawn you even closer. What happened when you connected was the bonding energy of a new Dyad.”

“Pardon the fuck?” You whispered, but before Qui-Gon could respond, you leapt to your feet to face him in defiance; and maybe a little disbelief. “A Dyad, Master? Between myself and Poe?”

“He’s Force-sensitive,” Qui-Gon pointed out, nonplussed. “You felt it.”

Indeed.

You had felt quite a bit of Poe Dameron’s mind.

Perhaps too much.

In that vast blackness filled only with stardust through which you fell, you witnessed various moments that stuck with Poe from his life, perhaps not all of them good. The memories that stuck with him most over the course of his lifetime were shown to you, not the best, not the most sad. Simply the ones that impacted him.

You knew that he’d seen the same of you.

And you’d felt his confusion, a convoluted mess of surprise and shock, when Poe saw that meeting him had stuck with you clearly. That his nicknames for you gave you butterflies. That that night, when you’d patched him up, your biggest regret, once you knew that he was alright of course, was that you hadn’t taken that moment to kiss him. Taken that moment to kiss him so that he would never know.

And you knew he felt your questions now, just as you felt his. A Dyad. Yes, you understand. Rare, without much information about it to go around, a Dyad is an unbreakable bond, one which can span the very vastness of space itself. You’d felt him using the Force. Manipulating it. Calling your name.

Ner cyar’ika.

He’d called you that, hadn’t he?

“I-I don’t know what a Dyad is,” Poe stammered as he stood, his next question clearly evident on his face as he surveyed your surroundings, surroundings which were most definitely not Tython. Old trees adorned with red, orange, and golden leaves grew tall and straight around you, dropping their foliage into a crunching mess of color beneath your feet. The sapphire sky held two moons instead of one, and you stood on the precipice of a steep hill lined with stones and roots. “What the hell…”

“A Dyad,” Qui-Gon said, crossing his arms, “Is a strong bond between two individuals, usually Force-sensitive. It can span vast distances of time, space… No matter the circumstances, communication is possible. Often, those bonded with a Dyad can speak to one another without using their voice.”

Poe took it in stoically, although his wide eyes and parted lips showed his surprise. “So… Y/N and I…”

“Share a Dyad,” Qui-Gon finished for him, nodding to emphasize the fact that, yes, there’s now a deep link between the two of you. One that can never be broken. “I must leave you now,” Qui-Gon continued, “But look out over the valley, and you shall see your destination. You’ll be able to leave once you’ve completed your trials.”

You turned your head to look, stopping short as you caught sight of what your master had meant. For a moment, you thought your eyes may have deceived you, or perhaps your mind; it was impossible, surely. But you’d just formed an inexplicable bond to Poe Dameron, who apparently has some level of Force-sensitivity. Surely nothing can be that impossible anymore? Meanwhile, Poe was still trying to figure out what your master had implied. “Wait— destination? Why do we have a destination? Where’d he go? Trials?”

“Poe,” You interrupted, and he froze. You felt him tense, realizing it was the first time you’d called him by his first name since he’d met you as a child. You didn’t have to say look. He already knew what you were going to say.

“Holy fuck,” Poe breathed when he seen what you did.

Across the valley, sheltered in a nook on the side of a snowy mountain, was the Temple of Mortis. An ancient Jedi structure from the days of the Old Republic, possibly older, it was a fabled and legendary place. All Jedi knew of it, but knew not where it was. In your earliest days of training you had often told Luke that one day, you would find it.

“You may find it in meditation, little mynock, but no one to this day has found its true location. That is a feat which perhaps none will succeed in doing.”

You didn’t have to explain to Poe the significance of this. He stared at you in awe as he was able to hear your astonishment without you actually speaking, before you closed off your mind a bit. The connection you could not stop, but maybe your thoughts could remain your own. Poe swallowed hard when he felt your mind retreat from his, turning his dark gaze to the megalithic ruins that loomed so close and yet so far. “So, what? We’re stuck here until we go inside that temple?”

“That’s what Qui-Gon said,” You quipped.

Poe’s jaw nearly hit the dirt. “Q… Qui-Gon?! That was Qui-Gon Jinn, the legendary Jedi from all the kids’ books you read in school?! The Qui-Gon?!”

“I first met him that night at the Force tree,” you admitted, although you weren’t entirely sure why you did so— although it didn’t matter much anymore, did it? “The night I fixed your mother’s ship?”

Poe nodded, recalling the memory. Recalling your memory. “Yeah…” He signed, shaking off the thought and facing the mountain. His hand ran over his face with exasperation before both came to settle on his hips. “That’s a long-ass walk, that’s for damn sure.”

You half considered using your jet pack; it might half the distance. But this was a world of Force meditation, and the journey was meant to occur without any detours or methods considered “cheating.” It was like a dream state. And on that note, you realized that Poe worried for what would happen to your bodies, if you’d fully been transported, and he especially worried for BB-8. You sighed, unsure of how to explain it so that he would understand.

“Dumb it down for me,” He suggested, making you jump. Poe’s sideways glance made butterflies erupt in your abdomen, butterflies you had to try desperately to quell. You knew that it did little good; Poe already knew things now. Things about you that you had never told anyone.

Even your feelings for him, you were sure.

“It’s like a dream,” You finally managed. “Our minds are here, whereas our bodies are there; time passes differently here. Only a few moments will pass for our physical forms, but days can pass for our minds.”

Poe nodded as he surveyed the valley below, as if he were trying to calculate the quickest path to the temple. But these paths were tricky; one that appeared shorter would only prove the same length as all the others, in the end. Or, so you had heard.

“You’ve never been here, huh?” Poe asked softly, and you realized that he wasn’t reading your thoughts or emotions, or even trying to, although it was incredibly hard to do that, you knew. You were having difficulty not doing so, your mind occasionally slipping into the raw connection between you and catching half-formed glimpses of words, memories, emotions… It always made him flinch, and you felt it a breach of privacy. You, the one trained by not one, but two Jedi Masters of legendary proportions, were having trouble getting your mind under control, whereas Poe— merely Force-sensitive— was easily resisting from reading your thoughts.

You belatedly realized you’d been staring at him silently, lost in your worries, and decided to answer before he could think you wanted to try and communicate telepathically. “No. I’ve never been here. But all Jedi have heard the stories.”

“You’re not a Jedi,” Poe pointed out with an eyebrow raise.

He was correcting you for you, not out of anything else. Like he didn’t want you to accidentally call yourself a Jedi in this place, or any. “...No, I’m not. But Luke was. Most of my physical learning was through observing his classes, remember? I was never allowed to participate.”

Poe nodded, eyes finding yours meaningfully. “Yeah… I remember.” You knew he wasn’t talking about recalling you having mentioned it. He’d seen those memories of your first classes with Luke Skywalker. You straightened, nodding in understanding, before setting off down the hill. Poe didn’t question you; he followed wordlessly, which was very much unlike him.

If Poe had a credit for every time he thought the words oh fuck, what the fuck, or anything like, he’d be rich. The richest guy in the galaxy, maybe. The oh fucks were reserved for when his mind slipped up, when he found himself hearing your voice without you actually speaking. It took every ounce of concentration he had and then some, but if he tripped or slipped, all bets were off. He’d hear bits and pieces of your thoughts, feel little slivers of your emotions.

His favorite was when his foot slipped on a rock as he was climbing up a steep cliff of boulders, ahead of you, and his concentration went with his balance. He’d fallen forward, hands bracing himself on the sharp edges of rock. That was a unique oh fuck and a what the fuck (affectionate, surprised) moment. Your thoughts had blasted like a megaphone in his head.

…All strange events aside, he’s got one hell of an ass.

Poe was flattered. Really.

But he’d also never blushed so hard in his life.

You, a Mandalorian! Thinking about his ass!

The what the fuck (surprised, what the fuck) was reserved for the whole damn situation. He was suddenly part of a Dyad, which was something supposed to be reserved for Force-sensitive people— which he technically wasn’t. Technically. With you, of all people. Suddenly, getting to know you over the course of six hours seemed like nothing compared to the lifetime of emotions and memories he’d witnessed from you. Now he knew you. Knew things about you that he probably shouldn’t.

Like you thought about more than just his ass.

You’ve been in love with him for years. It’s a thought that makes him lightheaded, makes his knees weak and his face flushed. Years. At first it had started as a childhood crush, but as you grew, so did your feelings. That day he’d come to you in need of patching up, you’d only barely resisted the urge to kiss him when he was unconscious. And every day since, you’d wished that you had. How sometimes you’d thought about joining the Resistance but faltered every damn time because you worried your feelings for him might complicate missions and end in disaster. How sometimes you wanted to gather up the courage to approach him and tell him, but you— you, a Mandalorian, a Fett— was scared of his denial. You were scared that you weren’t good enough for him. And you didn’t want to suffer the pain of being near him with feelings complicated between you, eventually pushing you apart. You didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t at least friends with him, and…

Poe wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Nothing bad— he was certain of that much, at least. He knew that before the Dyad, he’d always found you badass, had always looked forward to his little quick meetings with you and had always dreaded their endings. Yes, he did have a tiny crush on you, but he hadn’t been sure what to do with it. After all… you were a full decade younger than him.

But you were in love with him, head-over-heels, and he had a crush on you. So that should make things easy, right? It should be a simple matter of asking you out, right? Something in his gut twists at even the thought of asking you out.

Because you were in love with him. You’d been longing and yearning and pining since you were mature enough to understand the full meaning of those words. And what if he didn’t really feel these things he felt for you? What if it was just an effect of the Dyad? What, he’s just going to ask you out because of the Dyad? He’s going to use you? And when he realizes that it was only because of the Dyad, and that his feelings for you might not be as strong as he thinks? Then what?

You both were aware of the thoughts transpiring for each of you. Neither of you said anything. Not as you hiked through the desolate wilderness, not as you went about making camp. Not as you gave him instructions about how to better the camp and teach him how to start a fire from nothing but two pieces of wood and some dry brush as kindling. He mumbled something along the lines of “awesome” before sitting down across from you, trying not to stare at you as you stoked the fire and really fucking wishing that he had BB-8 with him right now.

He worried for his little buddy. He hoped that BB would have seen the dangers and hid, or fled. He wondered what he’d be doing, if he were here. He also had a little selfish thought, that he wished BB-8 were present so that he could hold him, and maybe get rid of this persistent urge, no, ache, to hold something.

To hold you.

It was something Poe had been feeling all damn day. Every time you walked alongside him, it took everything in him not to reach over and hold your hand, entwine your fingers together and rid you both of this longing to be held. Ner cyar’ika, he had called you. But what did it mean? He’s pretty sure he knew.

Ner runi.

My soul.

That’s what you had called him.

Slowly, his dark chocolate eyes trailed from where he fiddled with his hands, over the fire, drawn to you. You, the badass Mandalorian that was part of one of the most powerful families there ever was, who had a heart of gold but reinforced with durasteel. You sat there cleaning your blaster, and though he couldn’t see your eyes, he felt like every few minutes you would glance at him.

Poe couldn’t take it any longer.

As if forced from his mouth, he suddenly said, very quietly, “You were never gonna tell me that you’ve been in love with me this whole time, huh?”

You froze mid-wiping the barrel. Poe immediately felt guilty, but he also wondered if you might answer. When you didn’t, unsure of what to say… he followed his instincts. He stood, making his way around the fire to sit flush against your side. He instantly felt the comfort of your presence, and he surely felt your relief.

Poe’s gaze connected to your visor, to where he knew your eyes would be looking into his. He put an arm around your shoulders, putting your blaster and tools on the ground before you before hooking his hand up under your knees to pull you half into his lap. Your soft gasp of surprise once again reminded Poe of how young you were— only 20. Only 20, and never had you taken a lover. His touch probably made you uncomfortable. He regretted the sudden advance on you.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, unsure of where to put your hands.

“Keeping warm,” was his lame excuse. His lame excuse that both of you knew for a fact was a blatant lie. He leaned back, keeping his hold loose. Letting you know with emotions rather than words that it was okay if you wanted to pull away.

But you didn’t.

After a moment of hesitation, you started to relax. Your hands rested on his chest— did you feel his breath hitch just then? What is this? Was it the Dyad, or something more? Did he have feelings for you, or did he think he did?

Poe started to relax, too. His hand slowly, hesitantly trailed up your arm, fingers tracing your beskar plates. He felt your breathing speed up, your uncomfortable shift. Your confusion at your own reaction. Poe inwardly kicked himself. He’d just wanted to feel you. He hadn’t meant to make you feel uncomfortable. Nobody’s ever touched her, and here I am, the love of her life, all but feeling her up. “Sorry,” He managed, but it was just the tip of the iceberg. You surely knew how he regretted making you uncomfortable, but you responded with a low, broken hum— because you knew that deep down, he felt some kind of similar reaction.

Poe forced his hand to stop exploring your arm and come to rest on yours, which hovered over his heart. You could probably feel how it was pounding against his rib cage. His fingers slid between yours until he was holding your hand, and he wondered why he was doing any of this. “...Is this okay?” He whispered, like somebody might hear them. Honestly, he didn’t trust that the otherwise-invisible ghost Jedi wasn’t watching.

You hesitated. Your body relaxed as you took a deep breath. You squeezed his hand back. “...Yeah… Why are you doing this, Dameron?”

“I don’t know,” He replied honestly. “I just… want to, I guess?” He waited a second before adding, “...It’s Poe. It’s just Poe.”

You slowly rested your armored head on the shallow of his shoulder. He wondered if you would feel it if he kissed the top of your head. “Okay… Poe.” You sounded so soft, so sweet. Not for the first time since your bond had occurred did he wonder what your face looks like under that helmet.

“Let’s try to get some sleep, miracle,” He breathed, and he expected it not to come.

But he woke at dawn the next morning from a heavy, peaceful rest— one he hadn’t had the likes of in many years now— to you still enclosed protectively in his arms, but now also by his legs. You didn’t seem to mind. You were deeply asleep, too, he could feel it, but you laid on top of him with your hands on his chest and your armored head nestled between his shoulder and neck, under his jaw; even in your sleep, you’d been careful of your rangefinder so that it didn’t poke him in the face.

Unsure of what to do, Poe stayed like that for several minutes. He was in a bit of shock. Mandalorians notoriously never slept around anyone but each other or when alone, because they didn’t trust anyone enough. It was an intimate thing, sleeping near someone. It required the utmost amount of assurance that there was no way in hell one could get hurt. So for you to trust him enough to fall asleep not only near him, but on him, limbs entangled like this…

Poe was honored, for one.

The butterflies in his stomach showed him another feeling, too. He wasn’t sure what to do with that one yet.

Poe leaned forward slowly, afraid of waking you, before pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your helmet. A part of him thought it was weird, at first, to kiss your helmet… but then he felt relief. He closed his eyes and breathed in your scent of beskar, flight suit cotton, fuel, and lightsabers, which slightly nullified your slightly sweeter accents of second-hand exposure to spice and sugar. You smelled like ten thousand worlds, the galaxy in his arms; you smelled like a bounty hunter.

Poe smiled to himself and closed his eyes, letting himself feel you in his arms.

When you woke from your surprisingly deep slumber, you found yourself laying on Poe Dameron’s body as if he were a pillow. Despite how heavy you must be in all of your armor, he didn’t seem to mind it. He snored softly, and after a moment of laying there, you determined that his arms and his legs were around you. A part of you— the one that was trained— wanted to leap to your feet and bolt.

But the other part… you merely tensed for a moment before relaxing in his arms.

This was comfortable. No one had ever held you this way. This close. It was unfamiliar… but not unwanted. The physical touch that usually made you uncomfortable relaxed you. So you remained there.

Until you remembered the mission at hand, of course.

Slowly, you lifted your head. At the sight of Poe utterly relaxed beneath you, your heart began melting and pounding at once. You were laying on Poe Dameron. And now he knows about how you feel for him.

“You were never gonna tell me that you’ve been in love with me this whole time, huh?”

Your heart fluttered involuntarily at the memory. He knows. And now what does that make you? Are you still friends? Are you something else? What happens now? You’re too afraid of what might happen if you bring it up, so you vow not to. Not unless he does. And you can only hope and pray that he doesn’t want to be rid of you. You don’t think he would— especially seeing his soul so intimately as you have— and even if he did, it would be damn near impossible to escape each other because of your Dyad.

You can’t help but stare at him, taking in the moment for a little bit longer. You reach up to carefully sweep a loose curl off his forehead, and just like when he came to you that day, you wonder painfully what it would be like to kiss him.

He’s asleep, so it can’t hurt to wonder, right? Would he be flattered you’re thinking this way, or appalled? Maybe even disgusted? You hope never to find out. All you think about is how soft his lips look. What’s it like, to kiss someone? To push your mouths together in a symbol of love, lips melding and breath mingling? What does it feel like? No, not to kiss someone. You’re not interested in someone, you never have been. You’re interested in Poe, and only Poe. You feel self-conscious about your feelings toward him. Is it unfounded, an obsession, creepy? Are you weird for being so helplessly in love with him, for so long?

You feel the urge to take off your helmet and press your lips to his, just softly. Would he stir? Would he reciprocate? You let yourself imagine, just for a few moments, what it would be like to kiss him. You’d take your helmet off, careful not to wake him, and lean up a bit. You’d sweetly kiss him; if he stirred, would he gasp a little in surprise, then start moving his lips with yours? You imagined your barely-there breaths, stolen away by each other, mixing together. His strong nose would press into your cheek. Would he run his tongue along your lips to coax them open before licking into your mouth?

You jumped out of your daydream in alarm when Poe began to stir. Immediately, you closed off your thoughts and internally chastised yourself for having them. Girlish, immature, unneeded. Poe would never feel the same for you, no matter how close to you he became, and that’s a fact you should accept sooner rather than later.

Poe groaned in the back of his throat, a noise that shouldn’t have made you feel butterflies; maybe it was the fact that he squirmed not beneath you, but against you. You were more than thankful for your beskar armor (although a small part of you, which you crushed, wasn’t). Poe stretched, actually arching his body into you in his groggy state. You held on like a lothcat on a moving rug, unsure of what exactly to do.

When Poe opened his eyes, he seemed to realize where he was; he blinked rapidly a few times and immediately sat up a bit, removing an arm from around you to support his weight as he squinted blearily at you with a furrowed brow and chaotic curls. “Hey, miracle.”

You tried to speak, but all that happened was you swallowing hard. He didn’t tease you, or say anything cocky; he flopped back down on his back, rubbing his eyes with a deep groan. “This place have a habit of giving people the best sleep they’ve ever had in their lives or something? I don’t wanna get up.”

You jolted in surprise when you felt his legs move; one hitched further up, around your waist, and the other dragged down the backs of yours. Your heart leapt into your throat at the contact, pounding so hard and so fast it was a miracle it didn’t bruise his ribcage. Poe felt your… you weren’t exactly sure what you were feeling at this point. He sat up on his elbows again, biting his lip as his eyes met yours. “S-sorry, uh… Can’t move.”

You tilted your head a bit in question. It was all you could fathom with your current position.

Poe cleared his throat, face darkening in a flush. “P-pins and needles. Painful pins and needles. In my legs. Hold on. Just… Just a sec…” Poe’s eyes screwed shut. You averted your eyes, feeling as if you were a hindrance to his morning— Poe grabbed your shoulder abruptly. “Don’t. Don’t think that. It’s just my legs. I need a second. You…” His lip bite changed to something nervous rather than out of discomfort. “We’re good, Jay. Promise.” You forced yourself to relax, and so did he. After a few moments, he was able to move; he slid his leg off of yours, but the one around your hips lingered for a moment more. You wondered if he dragged it off of you slowly on purpose, trying to savor the moment, or if the position made him stiff.

There were a few moments more where you just laid there with each other, staring, as if you wanted to say something but weren’t exactly sure how to word it. Eventually, Poe— feeling a sense of growing discomfort— shifted underneath you, averting his eyes. “I, uh… I need you to get up, please.”

Your heart sank. Much like him, you didn’t want to move. But the goal—

“No. Miracle.” Poe bit his lip hard, eyes pleading, as he pawed at your shoulder in an effort to make you move. “I need you to get up. And uh… maybe look… any other direction. Please.”

“Huh?” Lingering tiredness made you slow to understand. But then it hit you. “Oh… Oh.” You hurriedly scrambled off of him. Your beskar and thick flight suit had kept you from noticing, but you knew enough about male anatomy to realize what was happening. Curiosity was a mean thing, forcing your eyes to trail down his torso and straight between his legs even as he moved.

If brains could glitch, you’re sure yours did. You weren’t sure if the sizeable bulge in his canvas pants was solely because of his morning rush hour (Is he…? Really that big?) or because he moved his thighs together immediately as he turned away from you, but either way, you blushed, feeling a wave of heat that made you awkwardly warm inside your armor. Poe felt your eyes on him and refused to meet them.

“It’s… not you,” Poe tried, then immediately amended that, “Well, no, that makes it sound bad. This is… It happens sometimes in the morning. I just gotta take care of it.”

“Did…” You swallow hard, struggling to keep your voice level. “Did me laying on you make it worse?”

“Miracle,” Poe interrupted, “There’s nothing wrong or bad about it, it’s just… I’m sure it probably made you uncomfortable. I mean, we know each other pretty well now, but you’ve never—“

“Do you need help?”

The question caught him off-guard. He twisted to look at you over his shoulder in astonishment. You shifted nervously. You could feel his twinges of severe discomfort, and you didn’t like it. You wanted to help him. Surely there was a plant or medicine that would help him?

“Huh?”

“Do… do you need help?” Your repeated question sounded feeble, and you started to wonder if it might be something personal. Did you offend him?

Poe tore off his jacket with a slight huff, setting it over his lap so that he could look at you straight-on. “Miracle. Sweetheart. You know what happens during sex, right?”

Now you were the one that was flustered. Despite your lack of any partner, you’ve read plenty of anatomical depictions and plenty of romance stories. Of course you knew what happened. Stiffly, you nodded.

“Okay,” Poe bit his lip, hard. “That’s what I have to do.” He must have felt your heart burst in shock, because he quickly added, “N-no, not like— not with— uh— it—“ Poe sighed, running a hand down his face. “...It’s something I have to do on my own.”

“Oh.” Your voice was small. It took a second for you to get his meaning, and his blush deepened when you couldn’t stop the flood of mental images that attacked your mind— filthy, dirty images the likes of which aren’t usual for you. You forced yourself to think of lightsaber tech specifications instead of… that. “Oh.”

Poe nodded pointedly. “Yeah.” His legs were stiff when he stood, a little shaky as he started backing toward the tree line.

“Um… good luck?” You sounded unsure to your own ears, and you felt like smacking yourself.

Poe nodded awkwardly as he hurried off, keeping his jacket in front of his crotch. It was only when his footsteps became indiscernible that you risked turning around, finding no sign of him except his trail, which led into the forest. With little twists of nerves in your belly, you went about cleaning up camp.

Is he thinking of me as he’s… doing that?

Those images returned again. You didn’t dare to dwell on them, flushing and clammy just from the brief mental picture of him palming himself through his pants and breathing heavily. Is it… because of you? Is that why he needs to take care of things? The thought sent a flood of warmth down your spine and into your lower stomach. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but you knew how to deal with it; you shifted uncomfortably and turned your whole focus to the specs of the Slave, willing the feeling to disappear.

Little good it did, though, when you were wholly aware of when, exactly, Poe finished. No detailed thoughts or images seeped through your link, but you jumped about a mile high when Poe’s frantic cursing and a sensation of relief flooded your senses. You blushed again, fiddling with your lightsabers. Suddenly their hilts were immensely interesting.

Poe returned shortly, flushed. Other than that and an uncharacteristic shyness in catching your eye, there was no sign of what he had done. You couldn’t help but glance down, finding the bulge in his pants not nearly as prominent as it had been; you looked quickly away when you felt Poe’s amusement. Luckily, he said nothing of it.

His hands found his hips, and he jerked his chin at you. “So? You’re the expert here. What’s for breakfast?”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Food is your first thought?”

Not my first thought, you heard him think, but he hurriedly said, “I haven’t eaten since before I came to see you, Jay. Of course it is, I’m kriffing starving.” Right on cue, his stomach emitted an obscene rumble that made you laugh. A quick survey of your surroundings, and you spotted several edible berry bushes about.

You nodded more to yourself than to Poe and started leading him to the nearest one. “I’m sure we can make do.”

It took three long days of hiking and awkward avoidance of conversations to reach the Temple of Mortis. Each day you covered as much ground as possible, occasionally stopping to hunt the local wildlife— despite this realm being a form of dream state, hunger, thirst, and fatigue were all still obstacles to be overcome. Although fatigue seemed to be the easiest to cure.

You’d never slept so well as you did when you were tucked against Poe’s side. Sleep came quickly and easily, pulling you into a comfortable darkness that felt like a warm blanket. If his emotions were anything to go on, it was the same for him. To your knowledge (which is quite vast about him, now) he hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep since his mother died. He was always yearning for the stars, and then after he finally made it out— albeit as a spice runner of Kijimi— he had to sleep with one eye open to avoid certain death. It was a habit he’d kept during his years in the Academy, which had been adapted to sleeping light so that he would hear the alarms go off, wherever he was at. Poe didn’t sleep very well, not for many years.

Until you.

When he has you in his arms, it’s like everything else fades away. It’s just you. Are you reading too much into it? Is it just because of the Dyad? Most likely, your mind eventually decides.

Either way, you and Poe are acting as if you’ve known each other your whole lives. You can anticipate each other’s movements and finish each other’s sentences— and thoughts. Poe always seems to know exactly what you’re not saying, and it’s an unsettling concept. But also comforting.

Each night he’s there to soothe the eternal loneliness you’ve felt your whole life. Even Ben never held you, content with the occasional hug. Boba held you when you were small, but not very often. You had to be very upset in order to be held, and even then sometimes not. And then you’d started wearing the armor. You saw less of Din and Boba, and that was shortly before Ben turned to the Dark Side. You never let anyone come close enough to even graze your armor, and yet here you slept entangled with Poe Dameron.

It was blissful.

You’d never felt such peace and safety. Poe made you feel safe, and you weren’t even sure you knew the full meaning of that word. Poe knew this; you caught his sympathetic stares and lingering glances. You felt his emotions as clearly as if he spoke them to you, but he never did. Because he knew.

On the morning of the fourth day in the dreamscape, you and Poe finally ascended the ancient ruined steps that led up to the temple’s grand, if dilapidated, entrance. On either side of the crumbling stone archway stood twin statues of Jedi Guardians, standing straight and serene, so lifelike they seemed ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. Thin sheets of ice and snow layered over ancient stone and long-dead grass and shrubbery, shielding broken spires and sharply-snapped pieces of gray structures long forgotten. Snowflakes drifted slowly down from a bleak sky, giving it a sense of serenity.

“It’s beautiful,” Poe commented under his breath, and you noticed the freezing wind brushing by with fingers of ice. Not for you; your armor could withstand space, if necessary. You looked over at Poe, whose arms were crossed as he tried his best not to shiver. Without a word, you unclipped your cape and came to drape it over his shoulders, standing in front of him. He fought chattering teeth as you pulled it securely closed, his breath a cloud of mist that hit your helmet. “...Th-thanks, Jay.”

You only nodded. You could feel his relief just as palpably as he could feel your response. Both of you turned to resume your awed admiration of the enormous, ancient structure before you— although it took Poe significantly less time than you to break the silence.

A little nervously, he cleared his throat. “So, uh… Should we go in?”

“No,” You responded, in all seriousness, “We have to stand out here and wait. The Force will guide us.”

“Oh.”

You gave it a good minute. Poe didn't realize you were joking.

“Poe,” You turned to him, a little amused. His eyebrow quirked up in question as he tried to keep his mouth closed in order to stifle his shivering. “I’m kidding. Of course we go inside.”

“Oh,” Poe flushed, dropping his gaze. He mumbled the next part of his sentence a little ashamedly. “Yeah. I knew that. I was just playing along.”

“Uh-huh,” You responded, unconvinced; you could tell because of the Dyad that he’d actually believed you. Although, you were quite relieved that he’d been able to block his mind off from yours enough so that he couldn’t tell that you were joking.

You took the leading steps into the temple, Poe following behind with the crunch of snow. The steps are surprisingly unslippery, providing traction. Your footsteps echoed solemnly in the ruins as you approached the ancient doors. The crumbled walls of the archway provided some shelter from the frigid breeze and falling snow, giving the space beneath the overhang a disturbingly silent air about it.

These doors were far too heavy for you to open alone; Poe pressed his weight into them alongside you, heaving with all of his strength. They stood strong, the ice coating their surfaces hardly even cracking. You both stumbled back a bit after a moment.

Poe’s hands found his hips as he regarded them with a raised eyebrow. “Those are some tough-ass doors.”

“So you’ve made it this far,” Said the voice of a familiar Gray Jedi from behind you, making Poe jump; you had sensed the lingering presence of your mentor as soon as you’d reached the ruins, and so had expected it. Still, Poe’s surprise at your “unshakable” demeanor made you smirk a bit under your helmet.

Qui-Gon’s apparition climbed up the stairs after you, and the lack of audible footsteps gave him an admittedly more ghostly façade. “I expected it to take much longer.”

“Did you doubt me, Master?” You quipped, in good spirits. You would never disrespect him.

Qui-Gon leaned a bit closer to you, conspiratorially. “It was not you who I doubted.”

“Oh,” Poe nearly choked on a snowflake. “You mean me. Sorry. I could’ve just stayed on the other side of the valley—“

Qui-Gon interrupted him with a deep chuckle. “Nonsense, my boy, I merely jest. You are just as much a part of these trials as Y/N is.”

Ah. An opportunity for a question. “What exactly are these trials, Master?”

Qui-Gon connected his hands under his sleeves, turning a smug smile on you. “Why don’t you come and find out?” With that, he simply stepped through the doors. Poe’s face was priceless.

“Let him feel the Force,” Qui-Gon’s voice commanded, disembodied.

“Let him feel the—“ Poe whipped his head around to raise an eyebrow at you worriedly. “The kriff is that supposed to mean?”

You fixed him with a steely gaze. “Do you trust me?”

“Without question.” A part of you was taken aback. The sincerity with which he said those words… “I mean it,” Poe added, as if for emphasis.

You could only nod. You offered him your hand, asking him silently to take it. “Don’t do. Just feel.” Poe nodded, understanding your orders. You felt that he wasn’t too keen on repeating trying to utilize the Force again.

His hand in yours felt right. It felt like it linked you two together physically, adding to the pulse of… whatever it was that was flowing between you. The relief that vibrated along the edges of your new connection, at just a hand-hold, should not have been so palpable as it was.

You turned your attention to the task at hand: the door.

You raised your free hand, opening your palm to the door, reaching out with your mind. The Living Force was all around you, vibrant and ever-changing even in a landscape otherwise barren to the naked eye, and you were able to pull it towards you.

Poe’s gasp of alarm did not go unnoticed.

He was already cold, so when it felt like ice water was dragged through his veins via an IV, Poe couldn’t contain his shudder, nor his little gasp. Did you hear that?

You glanced over at him.

Fuck.

You definitely heard it.

Dammit.

It felt like you were using him as a conduit. Qui-Gon had said to let him feel the Force? He definitely fucking felt it. Using where your hands were entwined as not only an anchor but a transfer point, you gently pulled the Force through him, like a filter, and into you. He was able to feel you use it, too. Effortlessly, you manipulated the Force to open the door for you.

With a broken, bone-grating shudder, the ancient doors began to move inward, as though they were being pulled open from the inside. For you, it was a menial shove. Poe was in awe, because he’d expected the Force to take more umph.

When you let go of his hand, the channel of Force energy stopped, and Poe felt surprisingly empty. He turned an inquisitive eye on you as you took your sabers in hand, but didn’t yet activate them. Taking his cue from you, he got his blaster ready. After all, even you weren’t sure what exactly these trials entailed.

Poe really hoped it was something normal, although the chances of that happening were slim at best.

The entry chamber was relatively small, although at least five times bigger than Poe’s house. Void of any decoration but spider’s webs and dust, it bore two much smaller versions of the Jedi statues. As you led the way by them, Poe felt like they followed you with your eyes. He wasn’t sure why, but he really didn’t like those statues. They gave him the same chills that seeing bones did.

“Who were they?” Poe whispered, like the statues might hear him.

You spared the statues a passing glance, but didn’t otherwise turn around. “They were once the guardians of Jedi Temples throughout the galaxy. They served to protect those within, whether they be fellow Jedi or younglings… although their order has been extinct for years.”

Poe eyed the statues warily as he passed. “Well, uh… no disrespect, but they’re pretty creepy in statue mode.”

You chuckled. It was a sound that made Poe feel all tingly on the inside. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that— not bad. It’s just that he wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that your laugh made him feel butterflies. “Yeah, kinda.”

In the central chamber, it seemed no different from the entry hall; except, here there were huge chunks of ice and snow that had fallen through the crumbling ceiling, and here there stood two eight-foot-tall, much more lifelike Jedi Guard statues. The crawling in his gut grew more prevalent, and Poe knew that something was about to go down here. You felt it, too, keeping your sabers at the ready and looking back at him once in question. You both inched to walk closer together, footsteps echoing in the cavern-sized-chamber alongside the distant howl of ghostly winds blowing through cracked walls. There was no sign of Qui-Gon Jinn.

Poe kept his blaster ready, a sense of deep unease filling his body. But… you felt it, too. So I’m not just paranoid… You stopped in your tracks, sensing for the source of the discomfort; you moved before he could see you start to do so.

With lightning-fast reflexes, you whipped around, sabers activating with a bursting crackle of electricity. You’d rounded on him, somehow, your sabers both guarding his left. Poe hadn’t even had time to gasp.

One of the Jedi Guard statues had come to life, yellow saber humming with an ancient life of its own. Your blades had hardly caught the blow that would have rent him clean in half, but he could still feel the heat of all three lengths of plasma. Shit. Shit.

For a three second count, he swore your eyes locked as you all stood stock-still.

Then you moved, and Poe was entranced.

You shoved off the blade of your attacker, body and blades in a motion like water, perfectly synchronized for optimum efficiency. Your footwork was neat, clean, balanced, not that Poe knew much about it. The Jedi Guard thrusted his double-bladed staff, bringing it up and around in a downward strike, then tried to swing horizontally, but you expertly deflected each blow with the hissing crash of plasma-to-plasma and little effort. It was perfectly clear that you’d been trained by Luke Skywalker.

Both of you were so fast that your blades were only blurred afterimages of static emerald and yellow topaz, zapping off each other in a haze of shattering white. Poe had to squint to see properly, and the forced action made him realize that he was just standing there.

Noise from behind him made him whip around— just in time, too. He dodged just as the second Jedi Guard would have impaled him from behind, the saber-staff bursting to life mere inches from his chest. Poe jumped back, nearly tripping over his own two feet, as the Jedi Guard attacked. Its stone joints ground together like a rockslide, too loud in the echoey space.

When the Jedi Guard aimed to slice downward, Poe dodged, tripped, and fell hard on his back, knocking the breath out of himself. Fuck. How was he supposed to do anything in these trials if he was so out-of-touch with the realm of Mortis that he was going to get himself killed?

The Jedi Guard tried to stab him through the chest; Poe rolled out of the way, but then had to immediately reverse the move in order to avoid a second strike. Ohshitohshitohshit—

Both strikes had upturned the fragile cobblestones of the floor, boxing Poe in. Now he didn’t have anywhere to go, and the Jedi Guard knew that. It lifted its staff, prepared to impale him—

“Poe!”

Your cry distracted the guard long enough for Poe to resituate in an attempt to stand; but then he was distracted by something flying at his face. On instinct, he caught it, dropping his blaster and drawing the attention of the guard back to himself— and he’d barely had time to sit up.

Poe brought whatever it was up as a poor defense when the guard struck, fast as a viper. He audibly gasped when one of your lightsabers ignited in his hand, effectively blocking the guard’s blow. He hadn’t meant to hold it in a horizontal reverse grip, but it worked out perfectly. There was a pause— a few beats of heavy silence as the guard tried to figure out what was happening. Poe took that as his opening.

Poe shoved with all of his might, and the guard staggered backward. Poe rolled heels-over-head away from it, coming up in a kneel just in time to deflect another blow and save his neck. Adrenaline surged through his veins, giving him the almost-sixth-sense he needed for battle.

As Poe got to his feet and defended himself from the guard, you were nearby, effortlessly blocking the guard you fought with by simply spinning your saber in a seamless continuous parry. With only one saber. Poe tried not to get distracted.

Thus far he’d felt only focus from you. You were calm, collected, and that gave him the confidence he needed now to fight— with a lightsaber, no less. One of yours. But when he felt your slip-up, he was overcome by a surge of sudden panic of his own.

Something distracted you. He wasn’t sure what, he wasn’t sure how, but your concentration slipped for only a second. Poe was terrified that he’d hear a bloodcurdling cry or hear the saber pierce a weak spot in your armor, but thankfully the guard was turned in such a way where the opening you’d left it only gave it room for a solid, powerful kick to the chest.

Poe turned just in time to see a flash of green as you were flung in his direction. The impact of your beskar-leaden body into his sent you both flying backward, and he felt the distinct crack of a rib when you landed on him, crushing him between your armored self and the broken cobblestones. You cried out at his pain with him, scrambling off of him. His chest throbbed; but he’d been through pain like this before. He could take this. He assured you silently of that through a pulse of emotion, but you hardly felt it.

You snatched your saber from his grip and hurled both of them, straight at your opponents. Poe briefly wondered if you were crazy, but then the sabers seemed to grow little starfighter minds of their own, dodging the guards’ weapons by themselves before shooting through their stone skulls. Poe watched, transfixed, as the sabers came to a halt in midair before returning back to your hands. The Jedi Guards fell to the ground and left the chamber in silence that felt far too loud.

Poe managed through his labored breaths, “What is it?”

You shook your head in disbelief. Whatever it was, it scared you, and that scared him. “Thought I saw…” Your head snapped up, focused on a distant hallway entrance. Poe didn’t have the Mandalorian helmet to amplify his vision, of course, so all he saw was a flash of black clothing disappear around the corner, like an apparition.

You were up and moving before Poe could stop you, bolting for the hallway and activating your sabers as you gave chase. Poe snatched up his blaster and followed as closely as he could behind you, understanding too late what you had seen.

Your voice rang through the chamber. “BEN!”

What scared him was that you didn’t scream it in pain. There was no grief, no sadness, no longing or pleading. Poe felt only one emotion from you, until he was overwhelmed with it.

Rage.

It should be impossible.

But you weren’t going to question it.

Clearly, this was not a part of the trials. Somehow, Ben had discovered a way to reach the Temple of Mortis to see you. Whether he actually were standing there or had entered through a meditative dream-state, you didn’t know, and you didn’t care.

You were seeing red.

There was no fear, not anymore. Not here, where you knew that he couldn’t hurt you even if he wanted to. You couldn’t die here, not while your bodies were on Tython.

Kylo Ren couldn’t physically hurt you.

But Ben… Ben could hurt you. He could tear your heart out and crush it under his fancy leather boots like he was doing now just by showing himself. He could stab you in the chest with a blade of nolstagia as his presence reminded you of better days, reminded you of a time when Ben Solo had been so close to you. He could fill your veins with poisoned thoughts of a world that was, of a time when all you knew was the happiness that was Luke’s academy which he’d destroyed, now tainted with the screams of slaughtered child-Jedis. Ben Solo could destroy you, in far worse ways than Kylo Ren ever could.

And it made you furious.

Any grief you held you transformed into anger. Not quite enough to warrant a warning from Qui-Gon about the Dark Side, but enough for you to chase Ben with intention of attacking him.

You didn’t want to kill him. Despite all he’d done, you don’t think that you could bring yourself to do that. Because as your blade pierced his chest, you would only be able to see the boy that was your brother. In his final moments, he might see the error of his ways, back to himself before death, but you’d watch the light fade from his eyes, and you wouldn’t be able to bear that.

But fight him?

That, you could do.

“BEN!” Your voice came out of you in a deep growl twice its usual depth, fueled by fury with a serrated edge. Your blades seemingly activated themselves of their own accord, allowing Ben to know your intentions clearly. You rounded the corner after him and stopped short.

There he stood, at the end of the slender bridge that linked the ends of two separate halls. Kylo Ren. In his black cloaks and cowls and robes, ridged mask obscuring his face. You hadn’t seen him since the day he’d left that wound on your thigh in a fit of rage, the one that had left a scar that went far deeper than the surface. The one that reminded you that if you’d been there for him, he might not have turned so quickly. A part of you wondered if your haste to get to the Force tree you had made him think that you’d abandoned him, and had given him the final push to the Dark Side.

“Y/N,” Said Ben’s voice from behind Ren’s mask. It was distorted, altered to become ownerless, bottomless. But you recognized a hint of Ben, deeper and older than you’d last heard him. “It’s been awhile.”

“You,” you hissed, anger and grief confusing themselves. What have you become?

“Did you think we’d never meet again?” Ben questioned, head tilting a bit in question. “Or did you think you could evade me indefinitely?”

“Why are you here?” You demanded, your grip so tight on your sabers that your knuckles popped.

“Looking for you,” Ben answered calmly. “You can’t be so stupid to believe that I would come to a Jedi Temple for just any reason. I’m surprised that you did.”

“I didn’t,” You snapped, voice dripping venom.

“Ah…” Ben’s focus shifted, to behind you.

To Poe.

“No, you didn’t. Your new Dyad brought you here.” You glanced back at Poe. You felt his worry as he trained his blaster on Ben, not yet firing. Waiting for your signal. When you looked back to him, he was still focused on Poe. “How… fascinating. One with the Force, and one without, forming such a strong bond…” You put yourself between Ben and Poe. You wouldn’t let him hurt him…

Ben seemed to find your protectiveness amusing. “We used to have a bond, once. Long ago. You can still feel it, can’t you?”

“I feel the remnants of what we had, Ben,” You retorted. “I feel sorrow for what you were.”

“...I can still feel it,” Ben said softly, with something like sadness in his voice. You couldn’t discern if it was a trick to gain your sympathy, or if maybe a part of him did mourn for the old days. “We had something… not quite a Dyad, but…”

“What are you doing here, Ben?” You demanded a second time. “What do you want from me?”

“What Dameron knows I want from you,” Ben countered, and you were reminded of a piece of information that you hadn’t thought much of: the fact that Poe’s hidden agenda coming to find you was to bring you back to the Resistance, to try and protect you from Kylo Ren under Leia’s orders. You wouldn’t hold it against him that he didn’t tell you, if only because this was proof that Leia had a right to be worried. “I want you to join me.”

The offer wasn’t surprising. You figured that if you met Ben again, he would most likely set forth a proposal to join him in the Dark Side. You’d been so close, it came as a given that he would do this before fighting. Also a contributing factor to your proven hunch was that Supreme Leader Snoke was always searching for more apprentices. The Knights of Ren, those few younglings that had survived Ben’s slaughter at the temple, were one such example. You were not a Jedi, but you were also not a Sith. You were good. And if Ben thought that he could persuade you to become a part of the Dark Side… “I will never join you, Ben.”

“Then you are nothing to me,” Ben replied lowly. For emphasis, he jerked his wrist, sending his saber burning to life. With a sharp stab of crimson light and a hum of energy, his unique, unstable lightsaber ignited with the drop of your heart. His words stung. You tried to tell yourself that they didn’t matter. In either case, you channeled your sorrow to anger, and charged with a cry of rage and grief that bubbled up from the very depths of your soul. Why? Why did you fall, Ben? Why did you let go of the light?

Ben charged, too. No, not Ben. Ben was gone. You needed to remember this. He was no longer the boy you’d known. He was Kylo Ren now, a Sith, a killer. If Ben was in there, he was so deeply buried that it would be difficult to find him.

You willed Poe to stay back, in a vague and absent part of your mind. This battle was between you and your brother; you didn’t want Poe getting hurt. Kylo Ren would target him to hurt you, you knew this. Stay. Back.

You need help. Poe sounded helpless. Worried. So were you, and he knew that. But you didn’t want him in the battle regardless.

Stay.

If your blades had been fast against a stone sentry, they were beyond quick now as your sabers met Kylo Ren’s in a clash of orange-brown so bright it was nearly blazing white. Right-left-right, parry-over-parry, your blades met expertly. It was clear that you knew each other, able to predict each other’s moves so well. You moved like in a dance that you knew by heart; neither you nor Ren could land a blow, and neither of you came close to the precarious edges of the bridge that led into a treacherous abyss of blackness.

Your moves were echoes of the old days of sparring sessions against each other, before your armor, before Kylo Ren, before Snoke. As children, smiles donned your faces as Luke watched over you, betting on who would win playfully. Neither of you ever did, skills so equally matched that it seemed an impossible feat to accomplish.

You were not children anymore.

There were no smiles, there was no Luke. Only a furious bounty hunter with a legacy behind her that she still hadn’t grown into, and a fallen Jedi that was the son of a legend. And now your skills have changed.

Kylo Ren thrust his free palm out toward you, but you sensed his Force push coming, blocking it with a wall of the permeating energy of your own. Your hands trembled against the impact of each other’s Force, building, until finally it burst in a surge of energy that sent you both flying back in opposing backflips that left you several dozen yards apart.

The duel had brought your unruly emotions to the forefront of your mind. Emotions were not something Mandalorians should wear on their sleeves, but you couldn’t contain yourself. “You abandoned me, Ben! You abandoned all of us! You killed the younglings, you tried to kill Luke— WHY?!”

Ben twirled his saber in a flourish. “Did Luke ever tell you what really happened that night? Or did you take his word for it?”

The accusation made your blood feel like fire. “Luke was like a father to me.”

“And I was more to you than that!” Ben roared, slamming a fist on his chest for emphasis. “I was closer to you than Luke ever was! Who protected you from the other children when you were young?! Who reminded you that you were just as important as Luke’s Jedi students?! And yet you abandoned me—“

“Do not!” Your scream was coupled with the point of your lightsaber jabbing in his direction. “I never abandoned you, Ben Solo. When everyone else mourned your loss, I waited for you. I waited for you to come back to us.”

“No,” Ben snapped, “You left. You left that night, Fett. When I needed you most.”

Don’t listen to him, miracle, Poe’s voice crept into your guilt-ridden mind. But all you could remember was Ben attacking you in that session with an anger you should have known wasn’t directed at you, that came from the pressure of Luke, of Snoke, and of whatever heavy burdens that he’d carried that he’d refused to share with you. “You don’t need to hear them.” And then, when he’d accidentally wounded you, you, in the haze of a day of bad decisions and feeling as if you just simply didn’t belong in Luke’s prestigious academy, you had left. You had sought out the Force tree in an attempt to cleanse your thoughts, only to be intercepted in your return by your father, who informed you of Ben’s turning.

If I had been there.

The thought had haunted you since that night.

Don’t. Listen. To him. Poe’s insistence broke through your guilt, helped you to push it aside, even as Kylo Ren uttered under his breath, “You know it to be true.” You remained silent. There was nothing you could say. You had no proclamations to counter Ren’s statement despite Poe’s insistence that you had no fault in this. Ren began to march forward. “If you will not join me, then you are a threat to me. I will not tolerate a threat to the First Order.”

You spun your sabers into a standard basic stance, preparing yourself for any motion Ren would make. “Good fucking luck getting rid of me.”

Your blades met again, but your energies were so chaotic that the Force bent around you to assist. When Ren lunged, huge pieces of debris went with him, which you had to dodge or deflect via a series of well-timed spins of your saber and elaborate footwork. When your sabers met again, there was a clash of sparks and plasma as Ren kept pushing forward, trying to shove you back. You backpedaled, letting yourself fall off the edge of the bridge; Poe’s panic overwhelmed you, until you sent him a rope of reassurance through your Dyad. You fell, vertically, for several seconds until you activated your jetpack.

You shot like a blaster laser back onto the bridge, bringing one arm back in a fiery blow that Ren almost couldn’t deflect in time. You landed in a spin, sabers spinning in a parry that defended your back and side as you came around to attack Ren. He thrust a wall of Force energy in your direction, one you weren’t prepared for, throwing you back, clean off your feet and into the far wall. You landed, out of breath and in a pile of broken shards of stone that stained your armor with soot and dust.

Before you had even caught your breath, you activated your jetpack again, launching yourself full-speed into Kylo Ren and knocking him backward. Whereas you were able to stop yourself, Ren was not. He rolled several feet before coming up in a kneel, met immediately with the full brunt of your flamethrower. Ren used the Force to deter the flames from his person, directing them around him so that they were harmless. The heat remained, however, adding hazards to the battlefield as small fires crackled in the ruins.

They’re cutting us off, Poe warned as the flames grew higher, creating an effective barrier between you and Poe.

And trapping you with Kylo Ren.

Drawing quick and haggard breaths, you and Ren faced each other in the ruins of your destruction. You weren’t sure if it was an illusion of the dreamscape, or if it were an effect of the battle, but sparks and ash fell from the ceiling. Liquid fire dropped from somewhere above you, and you realized that you’d caught the ancient tapestries bearing the Jedi emblem on fire. They burned, filling the hall with smoke and flames and transforming the landscape of the chamber to something hellish. A massive piece fell across the bridge behind you, enforcing the barrier between you and Poe. Somewhere beyond him, the wall had been ripped apart in one of Kylo Ren’s fits of Force-fueled rage, allowing in a beam of ice cold wind and piercing sunlight.

You faced each other, covered from head-to-toe in dust and ash. You were surprised when Ren flicked his saber off, but you did the same. Ren stood straight, heaving an irritated breath. He reached up, with one hand, pressing a button on the side of his helmet to unlatch the face into a hinge. He pulled it off, revealing his face. The very same face which had been your only friend. His black hair was a mess from the helmet, longer than you’d last seen. But for all appearances, he was still him.

“Ben…” Your voice left you in a whisper. You wondered if you heard it.

“We had a bond, Y/N. We were close.” Ben’s attempt to persuade you to the Dark Side made your heart sink. “We can have that again.”

Don’t do it, Jay, Poe begged, mentally rather than vocally. He would not beg in front of Kylo Ren.

“Join me,” Ben offered his hand to you, an extension of what could be an easy alliance between old friends. He gave the illusion that he still cared for you. “We can rule the galaxy, side-by-side. Like we were meant to.”

You stood there. Outwardly, it may appear as if you were considering your options. You glanced back and forth between them. Ren was unblocked, easily accessible, and behind him was the pitch blackness of the vacant temple corridors, lit by intermittent falling sparks and melting blobs of metal and stone. Behind him was the unknown.

And Poe, cut off from you by a wall of fire, watched anxiously, almost a silhouette from how brightly the midday sunshine streamed into the broken wall behind him, giving you an escape route.

You could destroy Ren. Here and now, if you kept fighting, even if the whole temple came down around you. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t and you wouldn’t, despite all of his atrocities. He still had your brother’s face, his voice. But he was Ben Solo no longer.

But you would not join him, either.

You raced for the barrier of searing flames behind you, refusing to face the Sith Lord any longer. Poe would be there to catch you and save you from burning on the other side.

The last thing Poe remembered clearly was you, on fire, jumping into his arms. From there it was a blur of screaming and patting you down furiously to try and stifle the flames while falling through the very same pitch blackness which had brought you here.

The next thing he knew, he was gasping awake and very, very sore. Here was Tython again, the scent of greenery and the ruins of the Jedi Academy making that obvious. Insects buzzed so loudly compared to the silence in the Temple of Mortis that it hurt Poe’s ears.

After several seconds of agonizing aching muscles, Poe forced past the cramps and stiffness in order to partially stand, head whipping around as he searched for you. He tried to call your name, but all that came out was a haggard cough. Y/N, he tried through the Dyad, and he felt your presence jerk to life on the stone slab on which you’d fainted.

P-Poe—

Your body was worse off than his was, apparently feeling the effects of your battle with Kylo Ren. You could hardly move. Poe sat up, crying out when he learned that his cracked rib had been transferred to the real world. “Fuck!”

Poe fought to get to his feet, clutching at his side in a vain effort to dull the pain. It was still dark, and the stormtrooper transports were still on approach. There was still time.

But very little of it.

Poe limped across the ruins, strapping his blaster over his head and torso in order to have both arms free when he reached you. You tried to roll over, letting out a pained groan when your body barely responded. Poe wondered if anything was seriously broken, but he didn’t have the time to check. He slipped an arm under your knees, and his other under your torso, wincing when the action caused discomfort in his side. Poe took a couple seconds to brace himself, breathing quick through his teeth, before taking the plunge and lifting you off the slab.

“Agh, fuck!!!” Poe’s growl of pain could probably be heard from the ships, but he didn’t care. He had to get you out of here. The dreamscape had left neither of you in any condition to fight. He would just have to push through it.

It took every ounce of strength he had in order to limp back in the direction of the ships. The pain in his side was like fire, hot and uncomfortable and stinging and sharp. He was moving as fast as his body would allow, but the throbbing ache was moving down his leg and making it difficult to move. His eyes watered with the force of trying to hold back his yelps as he tried to move faster through the thick underbrush. You were heavy. Had you been this heavy before? No, you hadn’t. Poe’s arms were trembling, and he’d broken into a cold sweat. Shit… I’m not gonna make it…

The trek to the ships was far too long. Poe was very near screaming now, hardly able to breathe as he approached the Slave, which already thrummed with life. The ramp lowered as he came up to it, revealing a very concerned BB-8. Poe nearly sagged with relief when he saw him, but couldn’t even manage the words to respond properly as BB followed him into the ship with questioning beeps.

Poe sat you down in the cockpit, nearly collapsing with a strangled cry. When BB-8 warbled out questions about what was wrong, Poe found himself nearly thinking to him before he caught himself. “I-I’ll explain later,” Poe forced out between gritted teeth. He got you comfortably adjusted and then hurriedly began to buckle you in.

He froze when your hands, grip weak and feeble, grabbed either side of his face, making him look at you. Poe… You’re hurt. You’re shaking.

Poe pressed his forehead to yours and held your wrists tightly, trying to convey reassurances. I’m fine. We need to get out of here. Need to get to my x-wing. We’re gonna be okay.

Poe staggered away from you, turning to Beebs. “You stay with her, okay? Keep the ship on autopilot and follow my lead. I’ll get us to D’Qar, but she can’t fly.”

BB-8 gave an answering stream of beeping, and Poe staggered from the Slave to Black One. Behind him, the ramp of the Slave closed, its engines firing up and starting to lift off. Alerted by the powered-up ship, the transports were starting their landing sequences right in the clearing you were taking off from. Poe was so glad these transport models didn’t have guns.

He didn’t bother pulling his flight suit on, stuffing it under the seat and forcing the cockpit to close as he was taking off to follow the Slave. The transports, far larger and clunky, couldn’t give chase, but he saw on his screens that they had clearly transmitted to the cruiser in orbit. A fleet of TIEs was bearing down on their position, quickly.

Poe put on his helmet and shook his head to clear it, trying to focus on the controls of his fighter. Come on. Get out of here. Get her out of here. If she’s captured, Ren will have her. Maker, who knows what he’d do to her. He growled through gritted teeth as he forced his arm to move. As he fought through the searing pain, he kept an image of you, weakened by your mental fight with Ren, clear in his mind. Miracle.

He felt your distant, vague response. You were acting like you’d been hit too hard over the head, and Poe didn’t like that. What if your mind had gotten stuck in the blackness that you’d fallen through together? How would he save you from that?

Poe, you said, and he nearly stilled before realizing that he was still in the process of escorting the Slave. I’m fine. Just tired. Keep flying. We need to get into lightspeed.

Poe didn’t realize someone could feel this much relief. You were responding. That was a good sign. You’re gonna be okay. He just needs to get you to D’Qar.

You’d barely exited the atmosphere when the TIEs opened fire. Large scoring burn marks scorched the side of the Slave before Poe was able to shoot down the opposing fighters. When they were dispatched, he inputted the coordinates to D’Qar and punched it, pulling both himself and the Slave into lightspeed. Only when he was certain that there were no pursuing TIEs did he start stripping himself of his jacket and shirt.

He hissed through his teeth when he saw the mess of his ribs: all blacks and blues already. Poe steeled himself and ripped his undershirt into half-haphazard bandages, holding one end in his teeth and applying them as tightly as he could handle, binding his chest. When it was over, the pain was eased slightly, and Poe put his shirt back on as he tried to catch his breath. Chill clung to his sweat-covered skin, and so he donned his jacket again, crossing his arms.

He checked on you again. Miracle…

Poe.

Hearing your voice put him at ease. The latest events clung to his mind like honey, the surrealness of it all finally settling in and allowing him to come to the realization that this had all actually happened. But sleep weighed on him more heavily, exhaustion from the dreamscape dripping off his very bones. You were already dreaming when Poe joined you.

Sharing dreams wasn’t an experience you’d ever thought you’d have.

But as you slept, you dreamed with Poe. Not of him. Your dreams were a confused, chaotic, and dark mess of emotions. Poe would take your hand and lead you through it, or you would. You protected each other, defending one another from formless threats that surfaced from the darkest corners of your minds. Occasionally you would wake, leaving the other also jolting to consciousness. Confusion would vibrate between you until fell back to sleep, into the realm of something quite like fever dreams.

Finally, after the initial discomfort of sharing something so deeply private, there came relief. Comfort. Relaxation. Your dreams became calm meadows where you would lie with Poe and rest under a calm sky. Sometimes it was Yavin IV, sometimes Tython. The only constant was Poe. You kept your hands linked, and no matter what changed around you, your bond remained stable.

When Poe left your dreams, you felt an unusual sense of safety and security until you finally began to wake up for real, when you felt relief not your own. A low groan left your dry throat, which cracked under the pressure of trying to force speech.

“No, hey. Easy, miracle. Don’t try to talk.” You vaguely registered Poe speaking until you were trying to sit up. He gently pressed you back down onto the medical cot you’d been laying on, and your eyes finally focused on him: covered in dirt, clearly exhausted, and disheveled… but still very much Poe. You let him help you lay back, feeling the unfamiliar touch of his hands on you and his mind grazing yours. Weakly, he smiled a bit. “You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re on D’Qar.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. You knew that he’d been planning on taking you here, and you weren’t exactly opposed to it. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of his arms. You’d fisted your hands in his sleeves; his thumb moved gently to caress where it was on your shoulder.

“...You look like shit, Poe.”

It was all you could think of, and your voice barely worked… but it made him laugh a little. The sparks danced in his eyes, and you were transfixed. You felt his little burst of curiosity at your sudden wave of adoration, and pulled back. You didn’t want him to know when you had these feelings… although you’re sure that it will take plenty of self-control to reach a point where you wouldn’t simply be always reading one another’s minds. Still… you couldn’t help but smile a little at his reaction, which only seemed to make him happier, even if he couldn’t see it.

Doesn’t matter if I can see it or not, miracle. I can feel it.

You wondered if that’s why the eye contact between you seemed so palpable then. If that’s why, somehow, Poe met your eyes through a screen of transparisteel tinted pitch black on the outside to prevent just that. Your hand moved of its own accord, inching up his arm, skipping his shoulder, hesitated… then you were cupping his face in your hand, running your thumb over the apple of his cheek. Poe surprised you by leaning into your touch. Suddenly he was holding your hand to his face.

Something… happened.

There was something like a pulse, although it felt a bit like a bass drop. You both felt it. Neither of you cared to move, or to wonder what it was. You just simply… were. An emotion neither of you could place buzzed between you, intensely. So intensely that you both just acknowledged it, let it happen, and existed with it. The only thing that existed for you in that moment were the sparks of life, of hope, in Poe Dameron’s eyes. And to him, he saw only the angled helmet that represented the other half of his Dyad, feeling relief that the woman behind it was alright. You felt his relief, just as clearly as your own emotions.

“...You stayed with me,” You voiced aloud, realizing this after a moment. Tython was two days ago, you learned from his mind. Poe had stayed by your side that entire time. His food was brought to him. Leia came to him to hear what he had to report. He hadn’t even so much as wiped his face of the intergalactic ancient ruin dust. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of disbelief. “You need a kriffing shower. Thank the Maker I’ve got my helmet on.”

Poe doubled over into your shoulder with muffled laughter. “Yeah. You’re probably right. But at least I haven’t been locked in a tin can this whole time.”

“Fuck you. Utreekov.”

“Uh huh.”

A series of tentative beeps made Poe sit back up. BB-8 rolled up, emitting worried queries about your well-being. “I’m fine, Beebs,” you croaked. “Just feels like I was hit by a speederbike.”

Beebs squealed happily, but you didn’t miss the droid double-take he gave Poe’s hand on your shoulder, held by yours. You didn’t even realize until then that your thumb had been tracing his knuckles absentmindedly. You reluctantly stopped; Poe wasn’t sure how to feel about that, making you very confused.

“So it is true,” came a familiar voice, and with Poe’s help, you managed to sit up enough to see the owner slowly round a gathering of medical equipment stations to reach your cot. “You truly did form a Dyad.”

“Buir,” You breathed, relieved to see him. A weight was lifted off your shoulders at the sight of your green-clad father, who walked with surprising ease for a near-70 year old. His armor, scraped and dented from decades of use, told stories far beyond even his memory, as it had been the armor of his father, Jango, and his father before. His voice, deep and gravelly, was one heard commonly throughout the Clone Wars, when 10,000 men were carbon-copied from Jango Fett into the perfect soldiers for the Republic.

“Hello, little bantha,” Boba Fett said, “It’s about time you woke up.” He approached with the clink of buckles and heavy footsteps, coming to stand at the bedside opposite of Poe. “Dameron told us everything. Mortis, the Dyad… Ren.”

You’d already come to terms with this in the shared state of dreams that you’d experienced with Poe. You’d known that he would; after all, there wasn’t anything to keep from anyone. Nothing, except your confused feelings that hummed between you like a vibro-blade’s edge.

When you were silent, Boba continued. “Ren is hunting you as he is hunting Skywalker now. Nowhere in the galaxy is safe for you.”

“Real comforting,” You scoffed. “Thanks.”

“I would prefer it if you stayed with the Resistance,” Boba continued, as if you hadn’t spoken. Your heart dropped. Poe was the sole reason you’d never chosen to join, too worried that your feelings for him would make you a burden on any mission. Now, though, with everything in the open, and with you being connected as you were… you needed a safe place to sort through your thoughts. A place where Ren would be less likely to find you. The Resistance, instead of being a lone bounty hunter, would provide you with constant backup. It would be more difficult for Ren to capture you here. You saw the benefits as Boba had taught you to, and you were going to exploit them... for now.

So therefore, you nodded. You didn’t expect to feel Poe’s sudden excitement at that prospect, however. You nodded regardless. “I will, buir.” Poe moved back so that Boba could come closer. Your father put a hand on your shoulder and leaned down in a sort of half-hug, clanking your helmeted foreheads together. Boba Fett did not hug, not in front of anyone. Even if that someone was the other half of your Dyad. “I must go. Din requires my assistance, and I am already late two days to see him. I had to make sure you were alright. Are you well enough for me to go?”

You gave Boba’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah. I’m fine. Tell Din that I said hello.”

Boba inclined his head to you. As he turned, he spared Poe a wary glance. “Thank you for caring for her, Dameron… Keep in touch with me. I would like to know if anything changes.”

Poe had drawn himself up, trying to portray himself more professionally. “Yes sir.”

Boba regarded him carefully for a moment more before leaving, the sound of his jingling buckles fading slowly. You didn’t get much of a moment alone with BB-8 and Poe, though, because as he left, Leia passed him with a nod of respect.

Sometimes, you found their connection amusing. It was Boba who had hunted Han Solo and imprisoned him in carbonite, intending to return him to Jabba the Hutt, in return for capturing Leia for Darth Vader, her father… or, something like that. You and Ben had often laughed about how awkward it was when both his parents and your father showed up at once, but after his fall to the Dark Side, you tried not to think about how you were connected to him.

You swung your legs off the bed in order to sit next to Poe normally, keeping your hands to yourself no matter how badly you wanted to hold his hand. I’ve been too physical already. Poe was being physical because of the Dyad, not because of anything he might feel for you: he didn’t feel the same. You didn’t need to be all over him and confuse him further.

“General,” Poe said as Leia came within earshot. He felt comforted by her presence in the way he would if his mother had approached, you noted. She was like a mother figure. To both of you.

“Poe,” Leia replied, “I see our patient has finally woken up.” Her wizened gaze settled on you. “How do you feel, Y/N?”

“Mostly tired,” You admitted softly, feeling at ease enough to do so. “But otherwise fine. My father would like it if I stayed here, but I won’t without your blessing.”

“Which you have,” Leia said immediately. She put a hand on Poe’s shoulder. “Dameron told us everything that happened; and I’m sure you know one of the reasons he came to see you.”

You nodded, although you felt the need to look at Poe pointedly. “I’m not mad, by the way.”

A soft smile settled on his features. “...I know.”

Leia smiled… a bit knowingly. “I’ve only ever heard of Dyads. Luke spoke about them, although I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about it.”

“It’s a little scary,” Poe mumbled, dropping his gaze to the floor. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or to Leia, but you agreed with him wholeheartedly. “I mean, suddenly knowing so much about her, and her about me, and just…” His dark orbs met yours, conveying a sense of worry. “Feeling each other, like this… it’s a lot to take in.”

“I’m sure it is,” Leia scoffed, “A bond like that isn’t something that you can adjust to overnight. You both need time, which is something you don’t have. I can give you a couple days before I send you back out on a mission, Poe.”

“That’s not necessary, general,” Poe insisted, “We’re good. We need a shower and some food, definitely some more sleep, but we’re good. Right, miracle?”

“Don’t hold back on our account,” You agreed. The war effort certainly needed Poe Dameron, and Luke needed you. “In fact, I was wondering if you might have any job for me. I’m sure there are plenty of places you’re searching for Luke. Or Lor San Tekka.”

Leia was slowly nodding at your proposal. “Out of anyone, you’re the most qualified to search for him… Well, besides me. I was hoping you’d offer.” Her hand moved to your shoulder, and like Poe, she seemed to be able to meet your eyes through your helmet. “But for now, you need rest. Both of you. I’ll send Threepio to show you to an empty room you can use.”

A part of you wished that Poe would offer for you to stay with him. The thought of sleeping alone— although you’d been doing it your whole life— now made you anxious. You didn’t let him know that, though, because he didn’t offer. He only gave you a sympathetic smile. The thought stung, a little, that he hadn’t enjoyed the closeness as much as you thought he did, but that was your own fault. You shouldn’t have expected that.

You pushed those thoughts away. You hadn’t seen C-3PO in years, and you’d readily admit that you missed the droid. “Thank you, general.”

Poe got off the edge of the cot with stiff muscles, standing there for a second to orient himself. “Food first, commander,” Leia told him, “You haven’t eaten much since you brought her here.”

Poe only nodded, far too exhausted to do much more than that. Had he even had his wounds properly treated yet? Had he even told anyone about them?

Yes and yes, Poe answered, and you jumped as you stepped down. Leia didn’t mention it, only continuing to Poe, “If you’re truly ready to continue your missions, I’ll need to see you tomorrow morning for a briefing.”

“I’ll be there,” Poe confirmed.

Leia began to turn away. “I’ll send C-3PO to the mess hall. After you eat, make sure you get some rest.”

You and Poe didn’t say much in response as she walked away. Poe took the lead, although he stood close enough so that your sides nearly brushed. It was a comforting presence to feel, rather than unwelcome. You still weren’t used to it, however. As you left the medbay, you came to realize that it was around noon, meaning the hallways and corridors of the underground base were full of Resistance members, nearly all of which paused to watch you and Poe pass. You heard vague whispers of Fett, and knew that you were recognized— unlike most of the time, when you relished the feel of being so memorable in your father’s legacy that everyone knew you on sight, you’d rather it if the floor were to open up and swallow you right there.

Unfortunately, you weren’t guarding your emotions as well as you thought.

Poe, alerted by your strong waves of anxiety, linked your fingers together lightly. It wasn’t as obvious as holding hands, but it was still plenty comforting. I’m right here, Jay.

Why is it easier for you? Blocking your mind?

It’s not, Poe glanced at you and took a deep breath. It’s not easy at all.

You left that as it was. Clearly it was difficult for him to keep his thoughts in check, too. You wondered if you were just unobservant or were unintentionally tuning out his emotions.

When you entered the dimly-lit central control room, Poe said lowly, “Welcome to D’Qar.” It wasn’t much to look at— old stone that had apparently once housed a Rebel base back in the day, now overgrown with vines and weeds which were still being plucked over by mouse droids. The tech was secondhand or knockoffs, and you realized how very little the Resistance had to work with.

“...Looks like shit,” Was all you could manage.

Poe shrugged halfheartedly. “Yeah, well…”

You looked at him. “I mean that affectionately.” You truly did. It was old, imperfect, and fraught with disaster waiting to happen. It felt like home to you, or maybe a place you could call home.

Poe nodded. “Sure you do.” He knew you meant it.

The mess hall was mostly empty, thankfully, and after collecting trays and a couple of portion packets (which was more than you got on a regular day out at work), you chose a seat well away from everyone else. You were unfamiliar with this type of portion, and so watched carefully as Poe tore the package open with his teeth before filling a bowl with the steamy water from a thermos. He plopped in the white mash, and then worked on peeling out the green strips that resembled seaweed. You mimicked his actions, although you were able to use a knife to open yours. By the time he’d freed the green strips of protein, the white mash had bubbled into something soft that resembled bread.

“It’s not very good,” Poe warned as he pulled out the bread with his fork and set it on his tray, “But it’s food.”

“I’m sure I’ve had worse,” You muttered, grimacing as he decided to eat the green strips raw. He made a face, taking a sip of water to wash it down.

When he was finished, he choked out, “I’m sure you haven’t.”

You unlatched your helmet, pulling it up a bit in order to take a bite of the green stuff yourself. You’d learned well from Din— not even your chin was revealed, but you were able to eat without issue. Poe was right; the raw, poorly-processed nutrition tasted vile, like chemicals and stagnant water. You forced it down anyway, trying to think of something worse. Eventually, you managed to scoff as you cut a piece of the bread away with your fork. “You’ve clearly never had womp rat.”

Poe frowned mid-chew. “...You’ve had womp rat?”

You shrugged. The memory wasn’t a particularly pleasant one. It had been one of your first jobs. You were starving, had gotten lost, and your quarry had escaped, so you’d done only what was necessary. “You do what you’ve gotta do to survive, Poe.”

Poe slowly nodded, pushing himself through another bite of the green stuff. “That’s true.”

The rest of the meal was spent in comfortable silence— outwardly. Within your own minds, you and Poe were essentially staring at each other like a couple of curious lothcats about newcomers. The metallic whirring of a special protocol droid’s footsteps as you finished eating brought your attention to the familiar golden droid as he approached. “Welcome back to D’Qar, Master Dameron. And welcome to you as well, Lady Fett.”

Poe rolled his eyes, skin crawling at the title. You felt oddly humored by Threepio’s term for you. “Hello, Threepio,” you said, “How are you?”

“Just fine, thank you,” Threepio replied, body jerking to address you, “Although I’m sure it might be difficult to recognize me, with the red arm. I assure you I am quite the same as always.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. You hadn’t even noticed his out-of-place appendage. “I didn’t notice at all. I’d recognize you anywhere, buddy.”

Threepio balked a bit in surprise. “Oh. I’m quite flattered you would say such a thing, my lady.”

Poe snorted. He’s so much older than all of us and has lived through three wars, yet he treats us like his superiors.

It’s his programming, you answered, although I wish he was able to acknowledge how important he is.

You barely caught Poe’s fond smile. It was almost wistful. Maybe even yearning. And it was directed on you, with stars in his eyes. You felt a surge of… something from him. You weren’t sure what it was, and neither was he. The moment passed as quickly as it arrived, though, because Poe was standing up. “I’m… I’m gonna go to my quarters, if you’re okay with Threepio.”

You’re not sure why him leaving you for his quarters stung. It shouldn’t. Don’t be clingy, you chastised yourself. “I’m okay.”

Poe awkwardly nodded before reluctantly setting off. You started to feel anxious watching him leave, which was a first. It was usually only sadness, mourning a love you’d never have. There was that, of course, and it was worse now. “You were never gonna tell me that you’ve been in love with me this whole time, huh?”

His words echoed in your ears. He knew now, and he hadn’t said anything more than that about it. Clearly, he didn’t feel the same. How were you supposed to have a Dyad with the man you loved when he didn’t love you back? When he found the love of his life, it would tear you apart. Would you hinder his happiness, with him able to feel your grief?

“My lady,” Threepio said, and you jerked, realizing that he had been trying to get your attention.

“Sorry, Threepio. What were you saying?”

“Only that I can take you to your quarters now if you wish, Lady Fett,” he responded, to which you nodded and stood.

Your quarters were only large enough, really, for a small strip of floor, a tiny desk, a cot in the stone wall, and a door leading off to the fresher. It was more than you’d expected, and Threepio let you know that you had gotten one of the commander’s quarters so that you would have your own private fresher, courtesy of Leia’s direct orders, so that you would have somewhere to remove and clean your armor. You resolved to thank her personally in the morning, but you asked Threepio to relay the message anyway ahead of you.

Once your door was locked, you painstakingly removed your beskar, piece by piece, until they were in a neat pile on the bed. Your helmet came off very last, the chilly air of the room making the hair on the back of your neck stand up on edge. You hadn’t had your mask off in over twenty-four hours, which you were unused to. The lonely recesses of space, hidden away in the Slave, had given you the privacy you’d needed to take it off most of the time. It wasn’t a part of your Creed to keep the armor on, but it was something you refused to do for anyone, unless they were very close to you. You stared into your own reflection of the transparisteel visor, frowning at yourself. Would you ever be able to remove it in front of anyone?

With a sigh, you placed it on the bed next to your plates. Your flight suit, gloves, and boots came off next, followed by your socks, undershirt and shorts. It was all neatly arranged on the bed, and the jetpack leaned against the nightstand. Feeling vulnerable and exposed without your armor and quite literally entirely naked, you rushed into the fresher.

You took your time. Hot water was something you very rarely experienced, and you took advantage of that, relaxing under the spray until it began to grow cold. Only then did you begin to scrub at your skin, careful of the bruises and scrapes from your fight with Ben.

Ben…

You hadn’t thought about it, until now. Now it was all you could think about. “We can have that again.” You missed him, more than you’d realized. You tried to grope for your anger and use it as a wall for your grief, but it was a weak and feeble defense. You wanted your brother back, and if you wouldn’t join him in his atrocities, he only wanted you dead.

Before you could stop yourself, you’d sunk to the floor of the tub, tugged your knees to your chest, and burst into tears. The scar on your thigh made whatever last dregs of mental protection you may have had crumble around you, and you were sobbing hard as you traced the outline of the mark which held so much grief for you. Why did I leave that night? Would things have turned out any differently if I hadn’t?

Miracle…

Poe’s voice in your head made you jump and gasp.

Sorry.

He stood solemnly outside your bathroom door, freshly showered himself and very concerned. I felt you. He didn’t need to ask if you were okay. It was a stupid question, and the answer was very clearly no. You buried your face in your knees, trying to gather the strength to finish rinsing yourself clean.

I’ll clean your armor.

You don’t have to do that.

You need it. Poe was insistent. In his mind, he felt that you needed it ready so that you could comfortably exit the bathroom with him able to remain with you. His thoughtfulness made your already vulnerable emotions rear a new head, one that was grateful beyond words.

So while you finished in the shower, Poe cleaned your armor until it was like new, even taking your flight suit and underclothes to the nearest laundry room while leaving you under BB-8’s watchful eye. When he returned, you had just gotten out of the fresher and stood on the other side of the door with a towel wrapped around you securely.

While Poe stood with his back to the rest of the room by the door, BB-8 ferried you your armor, piece by piece. Your underclothes and flight suit were warm and gave you a fuzzy, comforting feeling as you clamped on your pieces of beskar over it. The inside of your helmet smelled like an air freshener, which made you smile a bit. You ensured your hair was dry before putting it on. Only when you were entirely covered from head to toe did you exit the bathroom, thanking BB-8 softly. The only thing you hadn’t put on was your jetpack— and Din’s old cape, of course.

Poe turned back around when he was certain you were decent, for a Mandalorian. You stared at him wordlessly for several moments. “...Thank you, Poe.”

He knew you didn’t mean just for the armor. He smiled softly. “You don’t ever have to thank me, miracle.”

You spoke before you could stop yourself. “Do you…” When your voice cracked, you tried to start over. “Do you think there’s any chance… for Ben to come back to us? Or… or do you think he’s truly lost forever?”

Poe hesitated. “...Nothing’s ever for sure in this galaxy, Jay. But even when all we have is hope… at least it’s something.” His hands dropped from his hips as he came closer to you. “I miss him, too.”

He wrapped you in his arms, in his emotions and mind, tugging you closer than close as if he was trying to squeeze all doubt and fear out of you. “We’re not gonna stop trying to get him back, Y/N.”

You fisted your hands in his jacket and buried your helmeted face in the dip of his shoulder. “...We have to find Luke first.”

“Yeah,” Poe agreed. “Luke first.”

Wordlessly, he pulled you down onto the bed. Immediately, you entangled yourselves so that you were as close as you could possibly get. But sleep before Luke, miracle.

You felt so safe and calm in his embrace that you very nearly let it slip. Three words that would change everything, even though he already knew you felt them.

I won’t hold it against you, came the vaguest whisper of a thought.

You hesitated. It was more of a powerful, strong emotion than any words, but he felt it and held you tighter, closing his eyes and sighing contentedly as he started to fall asleep. I love you.

Poe registered the emotion, but it wasn’t until you began to doze that he actually responded with words.

…I know.

He meant far more than he’d say.

When Poe woke up, he was acutely aware of the way you were clinging to him— legs entangled with his, arms encircling his torso under his jacket, head nestled under his. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable to sleep in all that armor; he wondered if you’d ever feel comfortable enough with him to sleep without it.

He could feel your exhaustion. Your battle with Ren had left you in shambles, both physically and emotionally. He hadn’t been as close to him as you were; he couldn’t imagine it. Your eyes were most likely swollen from crying, and he ended up giving you a reassuring squeeze even though you were asleep. You were scared of Ren, but you missed Ben; he wished he could protect you better from both of them.

BB-8 beeped softly, reminding him of his meeting with Leia. “Oh. Yeah. Stay with her, buddy? Let her know where I went when she wakes up.” BB-8 replied with a series of quiet whirs as Poe meticulously plucked himself out of your grasp, slithering with surprising stealth out of the cot before hurrying out of the room. He was hungry, and still tired, and his cracked rib ached; but the bacta patch did wonders, and he’d grab breakfast and a caf on his way back to you.

It was only Leia in the briefing room when he entered. Suddenly aware of his disheveled state, he straightened his clothes and ran a hand through his curls to try and seem more presentable. Leia snorted with amusement. “I’ve seen you look worse, Poe.”

Poe shrugged. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try to look any better.”

The mirth in Leia’s eyes left, and her frown deepened. “How is she?”

“Tired,” Poe replied immediately, then, after a moment, “...She misses him.”

A darkness swept over her face at the mention of her lost son. “Me too.” She didn’t let the grief linger for longer than it needed to, focusing instead on the task at hand. “Are you ready for your next mission, Poe?”

Poe nodded resolutely. “Of course.” He already knew what it was: find Lor San Tekka. He just needed a destination.

“You cannot fail, Poe,” Leia told him as she leaned against the desk.

Poe’s hands found his hips, taking the pressure on him in stride. “I know, General Organa. I understand what’s at stake.”

“I’m not sure you do,” Leia sighed, “Not yet.” Shadows danced in her dark gaze as she remembered a time when star destroyers terrorized every planet, and any one of them at any given time may have had Darth Vader on board. “You grew up in a galaxy where the Empire had already been defeated. Everything you know about their capacity for evil, you know secondhand.”

She was right, of course. But Poe had conviction. “General, with respect, I’ve fought the First Order before and beat them every time. Once in a ship that had to be at least fifty years old. They aren’t the Empire. Not even close.”

“No,” Leia agreed, but her next statement proved ominous. “Not yet.” She continued as she crossed over the room to grab a holopad. “Many across the galaxy are attempting to curry favor with the First Order by selling them information. Thanks to your efforts on those missions you’re so proud of, we were able to intercept some of that intelligence before it reached Supreme Leader Snoke. It tells us a great deal about his plans— but most importantly, it is clear that the First Order is searching for my brother.”

“Luke Skywalker,” Poe inputted, although it wasn’t where his mind went first. It cast to the Mandalorian he’d left asleep in her quarters, watched over by his droid.

Luckily, it seemed Leia also thought of you. “Yes. And Y/N. We cannot allow the First Order to find them. We cannot.”

“We have Y/N,” Poe said, relieved at that, “She’s safe with us. But what about Luke? Do you have any idea where he is yet?”

Leia hesitated, chewing her lip. “...No.”

“What about Lor San Tekka?” Poe questioned further. “If…”

Without another word, Leia activated the holopad, showing Poe an image of an elderly man meditating underneath an enormous orb. He reminded him of a Jedi himself, but that definitely wasn’t Luke. “Who is that?” It was a ridiculous question, in hindsight, because he realized who it must be seconds after he asked.

“Lor San Tekka,” Leia answered anyway, a bit amused, “He’s been all over the galaxy— there’s not a sacred site or Jedi ruin he hasn’t seen. He’s supposed to be dead, but this holovid you intercepted shows him alive, and older than the last time I saw him. He could still be out there, and if he is, he’s our best hope for finding Luke— besides Y/N.”

Leia shut the holopad off and proceeded to hand him a datachip. “We know Lor San Tekka is alive. The First Order does not. This is a huge opportunity for us to get ahead of them, but we have to act on it now, before the First Order learns the truth. The site’s location is in our records. I need you to go there and ask Lor San Tekka for help.”

“And if he’s not there?” It was an entirely logical possibility. One Poe had a feeling he’d be facing.

Warmth passed over Leia’s face as she took a seat at her desk. “You know why you’re getting this assignment, Poe?” He waited, an eyebrow arched in question. “Because you don’t need to be told every little thing. Just get it done.”

Poe nodded. “Yes, general. I’ll leave right away.”

“Not yet,” Leia stopped him from turning away. “I’ve authorized you to select a small squadron. Four more pilots and a technician. It’s unlikely you’ll run into trouble. This planet is at the back end of the galaxy. Still… you never know.”

Already, Poe was running through a mental list of those whom he thought would make the best choices. “Right. Better safe than sorry. I’ll pick good people.”

Leia fixed him with a stern stare. “You better. I’ve been on my fair share of missions like this. Things can fall apart quickly, sometimes before you realize what’s happening. Whomever you choose… make sure they’re people you can trust.”

Poe already had the list in mind. He’s sure he can persuade them… but… “One more thing, general.” She raised an eyebrow, urging him silently to go on. Poe fiddled with the datachip in his hand, feeling awkward when he asked, “Would… would it be a good idea to take Y/N?” If he was being honest, it was a partially selfish request. He couldn’t imagine being that far away from you… not yet.

Leia smirked a little, amused. “That’s a very good idea. Perhaps Lor San Tekka might be more inclined to help if one of Luke’s old students was with you. But the decision is fully up to her, Poe. If you can convince her…”

She left it at that. Poe thanked her and set out with the datachip in his pocket, his destinations altered slightly. Breakfast, however quick, could wait.

He needed you on this mission, and he wasn’t quite sure yet as to why he felt so strongly about that.

What jerked you awake was the sensation of loneliness. You didn’t like that, despite having slept like this for so many years before your Dyad. You’d hardly sat up when BB-8 rolled over, emitting soft sounds of reassurance. “Hi, Beebs,” you croaked out, voice hoarse from a night of crying yourself to sleep. You found yourself missing the embrace Poe had you locked in all night; it felt strange to wake up without it.

BB-8 whirled at you; apparently Poe had gone to see Leia, but no sooner had he told you this did the door to your quarters open. Poe stepped half-in, seeming convicted about something. “You ready to go find Lor San Tekka?”

Immediately, you stood up, grabbing your jetpack and cape. “When do we leave?”

You weren’t expecting the relief that came from him. He didn’t want to go without me, you realized. With BB-8 following closely at your heels, you and Poe exited the room side-by-side. Poe didn’t have to verbally explain anything to you; with a flood of memories he couldn’t stop, you experienced his briefing with Leia secondhand. It was… still strange, to say the least.

For BB-8’s sake, though, he did explain a bit. “Not sure where we’re going, yet; I haven’t looked at the chip. You remember the way to mess, Jay?” You nodded. It was a fairly easy route, helped by your memories from Poe. “Alright. Beebs, after that, take her to hangar six. You remember that old T-65 tandem?”

“I can’t take the Slave?” You understood why after you said it, waving a hand in dismissal. “Nevermind. If word gets out that my ship is with the Resistance, Ren will know who I’m with. Right now he only knows about us; the longer we can keep who I throw my cards with a secret, the more of an advantage I’ll have.”

BB-8 beeped in acknowledgement of Poe’s orders. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll meet you there; I have to go pick my squadron.”

“Any idea of who you’ll choose?”

Poe nodded. “I’ve got a few. See you at the hangar.”

Poe had hardly gotten three steps when you called him back. “Aren’t you eating any breakfast?”

He smiled a little, buzzing with a weird emotion you didn’t quite understand. “I’ll grab something before I head to the hangar. Promise.”

It was weird; it didn’t matter that Poe was entirely out of your line of sight and earshot, you could still feel little bursts of emotion from him— frustration at tripping over a mouse droid, excitement when Wexley agreed to join his squadron— and still catch bits and pieces of his thoughts. You wondered if he could feel the same from you.

After a small and horrid breakfast that you weren’t going to complain about (it was far more than you’d ever had on your own), you asked BB-8 to escort you to the central control room. There, you found a buzz of Resistance members and commanders, most of which paused momentarily to watch you as you entered the room. You ignored their gazes and approached the one person in the room that didn’t make a Mandalorian entering a very big deal at all.

“General Organa,” You said, and she turned with a small smile.

“Y/N. I trust that Poe’s told you about the mission at hand?”

“He has,” You confirmed, then, as you followed her from station-to-station, “I’m going with him.”

“That’s wonderful,” Leia said, quietly giving her permission for some order or another, “Lor might be more inclined to help if you’re with them. Poe knew Luke, but you were one of his students; your bond with my brother is second only to mine.” She turned a warm smile on you, seeming to read your mind. “Even if you’re not a Jedi.”

You dipped your head to her out of respect. “I also wanted to thank you for the private quarters, general.”

“Threepio told me.”

“I wanted to relay it to you personally as well.”

Leia smiled, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. You’re one of us now.”

One of us. It was something you’d longed to hear your whole life. Why did you let your feelings for Poe dictate your place in the war? What kind of naïve thoughts had you been thinking? It was far worse now, and now you were stuck close to him: but it could be ignored. It hurt, certainly, but with everyone’s focus on the war efforts, it wasn’t as palpable as you’d thought it would be.

Leia gestured to a far corner of the room, shadows flicking across her eyes. You followed her movement and felt a wave of nostalgia and sorrow. “You should say hello. I like to think that he can still hear us, like a coma.”

You nodded, making your way there; BB-8 stayed back a bit, giving you a moment as you knelt before the older droid. He hadn’t moved an inch from the position he was in the day he’d went to sleep, but it seemed out of respect, people kept him free of dust and cobwebs. “...Hey, Artoo,” You said, in a whisper. You wished he’d burst to life with those familiar beeps and whistles, wiggling a bit on his stabilizers in excitement to see you. But there was no life in R2-D2. He seemed only an empty shell of himself, the reminder of a droid who had been so riddled with grief at the disappearance of his master that he’d powered down. You put a hand on his body, feeling no warmth from his converters. He was cold, and still… like he was dead. It was impossible, really, for a droid to die this way, but it certainly felt like that was what had happened to him. You leaned against him in a half-hug. “Miss you, buddy.” After a moment, you whispered to him, “We’ll find Luke, okay? I know it, in my heart. We’ll find him.” Maybe it was your imagination, but you swore you heard the faintest echo of his curious little beeps. When you pulled back, there was still no sign of consciousness in R2, and so with a pat on his head, you left with BB-8 for hangar six.

—DAMERON—

Poe’s new squadron— Black Squadron, named after his x-wing— was made up solely of people he trusted with his life.

Temmin “Snap” Wexley, and his wife whom Poe had served in the Republic Navy with, Karé Kun; Jessika Pava, whom Poe had also known from the Navy; L’ulo, who’d helped to raise Poe and was a respected war veteran from the days of the Rebellion; and Oddy Muva, a new but promising addition to the tech team who was undergoing training to become a pilot.

And then there was you, of course, who Poe trusted above them all.

Poe didn’t ask you to join Black Squadron, not yet. You were still adjusting to the idea of even being on base, and he knew you weren’t sure about actually joining yet. He didn’t want to push you into doing anything; for now, he wanted to focus on one mission at a time.

When he reached the hangar, Black Squadron was gathered, fully ready for departure, where their x-wings had been gathered. The T-65 tandem was there in place of his beloved Black One, and you stood against its foremost landing gear with your arms crossed, BB-8 by your side. Black Squadron spoke quietly amongst themselves, eyeing you warily; he wondered if any of them had even ever seen a Mandalorian in real life. Had anyone, including yourself, even explained why you were there?

Seemingly not. Snap approached him, meeting him halfway and glancing back at you with something like worry. “Who is she?”

“That’s Y/N,” Poe answered calmly, “Y/N Fett. She was one of Luke’s students before Kylo Ren destroyed the Academy.”

Snap recognized the story and frowned. “Is she the one who was close with… him?” Poe reluctantly nodded, knowing where Snap was going with this. Snap’s frown deepened, hands on his hips. “How do you know you can trust her? How do you know she’s not working with him?”

Poe put a reassuring hand on Snap’s shoulder. “She’s not.”

“How do you—“

“I just do, Snap…” He fixed his second-in-command with a sympathetic but stern look. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” Snap answered immediately.

“I trust her,” Poe emphasized, “So you can, too.”

Snap hesitated for a moment before giving in with a shake of his head, patting Poe on the back. “Alright. Whatever you say, Poe.”

With Snap somewhat satisfied but still wary, the two men made their way back to the group. It’s only a natural response, your voice made Poe jump, earning a strange look from Snap. Sorry. In his place, I’d do the same.

So would I, Poe agreed, glancing at you meaningfully. It didn’t go unnoticed by either of you that the others caught on, especially L’ulo, who hummed thoughtfully as he tapped a rhythm on his chin.

Poe took a breath as he took in his squadron. A sense of pride overcame him at seeing them all gathered and ready so quickly for the mission. “Alright, alright! Look at you guys. Looking good— looking tough!” His attention focused on Oddy, who shifted his weight awkwardly off to the side. “All the ships fueled up and ready, Oddy?”

“Yeah, Poe,” Oddy sighed, almost regretfully, “I wish I were coming with you, though.”

“You’ll get your shot, buddy,” Poe promised, putting a hand on the tech’s shoulder. “Little more training and you’ll be right up there with us. One thing the Resistance needs, it’s pilots.”

“Where are we going, anyway?” Jess spoke up, bringing Poe’s attention to her on his way to the ship you waited at. “I was working on my engines— had an idea to get my power converter efficiency up by like fifteen percent. And then you called us up for…” She waved a hand generally, encompassing the gathered fighters and pilots in her gesture. “Whatever this is. Had to put the whole thing back together before I was finished.”

“I’m sorry, Jess,” Poe sighed, genuinely regretful. An x-wing with better converter efficiency would make a better weapon against the First Order, but it would have to wait. “It’s classified. At least, for now.” Jess’s face fell.

“Classified,” L’ulo scoffed, “I’ve been fighting with Leia for decades. I was at Endor. You’d think that'd earn me a little trust.”

Karé couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “And Snap fought at Jakku. You’re lucky they let either of you old-timers anywhere near a fighter these days. Don’t complain.”

“Come on, Karé,” Snap frowned, “I was like sixteen at Jakku.”

“What about the Mandalorian?” Jess asked, making you tense. Poe glanced back at you worriedly. “Is it classified for her?”

Poe dodged the question. “Snap, Jess, L’ulo, Karé, Oddy; this is Y/N Fett.” Their expressions noticeably shifted, making you somewhere between slightly arrogant and uncomfortable. “She was…” He hesitated. The mission really was classified for now. Nobody knew yet that the First Order was looking for Luke, much less Lor San Tekka. Explaining your presence here… He’d already told Snap too much, but his friend remained silent; albeit he bore a questioning frown. “She’ll be able to help us on this mission. Leia requested me to find her specifically.” It wasn’t a lie.

Real smooth, you teased, lighthearted.

Shut up, Poe countered, flushing a bit. Shaking your head with amusement, you started to climb into the backseat of the tandem x-wing when BB-8 was being pulled into the droid compartment. Poe went up after you. To his gathered allies, he said, with every ounce of genuine feeling in him, “You are my team. You are my friends. We are Black Squadron… and it’s an honor.”

Poe donned his helmet and closed the cockpit, starting up the launching sequence. There was a loud clang behind him, making him jump and half-turn to see what the hell you were doing back there—

“Sorry. It’s kind of hard to get strapped in when my jetpack is on my back.”

Poe fought a smile. He wasn’t sure why you sounded so sweet to him just then.

You scoffed. “I’m a Mandalorian, Poe. I don’t do sweet.”

Poe snorted, flipping the necessary switches to launch his starfighter. “Yeah, well, I’m a commander. I don’t do hot ass either.”

You were silent for a moment. “...You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

You sounded absolutely mortified, making Poe laugh from deep in his chest. “No, it’s okay. I lied. I do actually do hot ass. I think I’ve got a great ass.”

Your groan of annoyance made him laugh harder. “Please, shut up—“

“No, I’m serious! I have an amazing ass if it can attract a Mandalorian’s attention.”

Snap’s voice through the comms made you both go deathly silent. “Um, guys? You do realize that your comms are on an open channel, right?”

Poe blushed deeply up to his hairline, silently cursing himself out. He cleared his throat. “N-no I didn’t. Thanks for pointing that out, Black Two.”

Then he heard something he didn’t expect.

Your laughter.

And not like a chuckle. From the depths of your torso, strong enough to make you double over, you laughed, without reserve. Poe actually turned his head to try and see, able to just barely, unaware of how widely he was smiling until his cheeks started to hurt. Hands down, your laugh was the single most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life. It was like silver bells, or x-wing engines, or the sound of wildlife on Yavin. It felt like home, and Poe watched in awe as you even had to reach up under your helmet to wipe away tears of laughter. If the price of hearing that was his embarrassment, he’d gladly become the laughingstock of the entire galaxy just to hear it.

He didn’t let you know it; he didn’t want you to think he was taking advantage of you because of the Dyad. But he wondered if you felt the fuzzy warmth that spread from the center of his chest to take over the entirety of his body, forcing him to keep smiling in order to let out some of the emotion that way he didn’t simply combust in his seat.

“Oh, Maker,” L’ulo said teasingly, and Poe glanced over to his friend’s a-wing; he watched Poe fondly and shook his head with amusement. Poe knew that tone; it was the same one he’d use whenever Poe would come home with a new crush on a girl from school. He didn’t pay the mocking any mind, though, too busy trying to infuse the sound of your laughter deep into his memory.

—FETT—

Ovanis was more of an asteroid than an actual planet, as far as you could tell. Rocky and all but uninhabitable on the surface, intel stated that the civilization could be found in cave systems below the jagged rocks that made up the land for as far as they eye could see after you entered the atmosphere.

Poe gave the order for Black Squadron to wait as he— and in turn, you— went to explore for an entrance. He found one, alright, and was intent on exploring it before the rest of his squadron to determine the threat level. His insistence to put himself in danger before anyone else made you worry for him, but you were also kind of proud.

“Watch this.”

Nevermind. “Poe what—“ You bit back a cry of alarm as Poe suddenly pitched the x-wing into a steep dive, spinning toward a small and seemingly unimportant cave opening. BB-8 whistled in alarm. “You’ll see.”

“Poe, I swear to the Maker, if you get us killed by smashing us into rock or something—“

“Do you trust me, miracle?” Poe asked, not pulling up.

Your heart was in your throat; you hated flying if someone else was piloting. But… This was Poe. “...Yeah, Poe, I trust you.”

“Then hang on.”

You did.

You’d only ever heard about Poe’s expertise. Maybe that was what he was trying to show you here. At nearly top speed, he shot into the cave, which sharply turned; he caught it, following the path of the tunnel like he’d been here a million times. No matter how closely the s-foils came to the walls of the cave, they never caught on anything or scraped against the walls. Poe even flipped, dodging a particularly low-hanging stalagmite with such finesse you wondered exactly how Force-sensitive he really was.

Somehow, he slipped straight through two closing steel doors with little else but small rock debris crumbling from the ceiling as a warning. The x-wing came so dangerously close you could feel the rumble in your chest from how violently they closed. You would’ve been crushed.

Unshaken, Poe continued forward, doors nor hanging daggers of rock phasing him in the slightest. You were… in a little bit of awe. You’d never seen such skill in a pilot. The controls were like extensions of himself, fully in his command. You would’ve crashed by now if you’d been flying.

BB-8 whirred in alarm, and Poe was able to respond easily while still flying. “You’re picking up a signal? Listen, BB-8, I think we’ve got more immediate problems, okay? See if you can send out a bounce pulse, get a map going, maybe let me see some of those turns ahead of the—“

He was interrupted by the s-foils scraping against the walls due to the shrinking tunnel, jolting the whole ship violently. Poe slowed down. “Any time now, buddy!”

You saw the glow of a holomap appear on Poe’s dashboard, followed by a slew of beeps on BB-8’s end. “I see it. Cavern opens up a bit ahead. Might give us more room to move.”

BB-8 asked something else, making you chuckle a bit. Poe scoffed in disbelief. “No, we can’t turn around. Got no choice here, pal. This is the only way in, and I don’t feel like flying home and telling General Organa we couldn’t complete the mission because we got scared of a cave. Besides, don’t you want to see what’s down here? I know I do. What about you, Jay?”

You often got in trouble with Luke for going off to explore the lands around the academy, as those escapades ended more often than not with injury on your part. It was as if something was always calling you deeper, farther, until you’d thoroughly explored whatever area you were in; it was something that gave you an edge as a bounty hunter. No stone was ever left unturned. “I’d love to see more,” You answered, “But… I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Poe actually laughed, although you’re sure he felt the very same unease about the upcoming chamber that you did; after all, he’d felt uneasy around the Jedi Temple Guards. “That just means things are about to get interesting.”

You couldn’t help but snort under your breath. “You’re a chaotic man, Poe Dameron.”

“That’s what gives me my charm,” Poe retorted as you entered the vast chamber, made into a maze by the stalagmites and stalactites that filled it. It almost resembled a mouth full of sharp teeth. In any case, it gave Poe more room to move. “Okay, that’s better.” He wiggled the x-wing a bit in the space, testing to see if anything was damaged. “Looks like we’re through the worst of it. Man, that was some maze.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that, in all my years as a bounty hunter.”

He knew that you weren’t talking about the cave. You could barely see his face when he turned to half-look at you over his shoulder, but you knew he was flushing. “...Thanks, miracle.” He slowed even further. “Let’s slow it down. Maybe catch our breath here for a second?”

He’d hardly finished the sentence when fire and debris flashed in your vision suddenly, followed by a horrendous shudder like an earthquake. Overhead, the ceiling began to crumble, more explosions rattling your surroundings, and Poe launched into action as alarms began to blare. BB-8 screamed in a very droid fashion, but Poe almost effortlessly navigated through the crumbling debris. You yelped, clinging to the back of Poe’s seat with a white-knuckled grip that made your gloves squeak in protest. “Great. Proximity mines in the ceiling— the whole thing’s coming down on us! This is a kill box! We gotta get outta here, pal, find me an exit!”

BB-8 whirred frantically, only finding one suitable exit. “Got it— hold tight, guys!” It didn’t take Poe long to get you there, but the problem was that there was yet another door. Bigger, faster to move, it was already closing on your approach. BB-8 cried out in terror. “Yes, BB-8, I see that the door is closing!”

The distance was too great, and it was closing too fast— the opening was far too small for the x-wing.

“Yes, Y/N, I know we’re not gonna make it!” Poe went faster. “Come on… Divert all power to engines!” The x-wing lurched forward. “Okay, okay… We can do this! Probably!”

“I’m not settling for probably, Poe!” You cried, extending an arm in the direction of the door over his shoulder. In this situation, it was briefly difficult to focus on the Force, but you made yourself do it, manipulating it to hold the door— even push it a little farther open. It was heavy, and it tried to move regardless thanks to powerful gears in the walls. You could hear the strain of metal even through the cockpit. You’ve got this, miracle— I’m right here with you.

Poe gave the x-wing a final push, turning vertically; he zipped through cleanly, and not a moment too soon. With a shuddering gasp, you let go of the Force, allowing the door to slam closed so violently behind you that the entire cave shuddered.

“Holy kriff,” Poe breathed when you were free-and-clear. After a second, he gave an exhilarated whoop. “Hell yeah! You really are a miracle, you know that?! We wouldn’t have been able to get to this point without you!”

“Poe,” You scolded lightly, “I just did what I had to. Nothing special.”

“Are you okay?” It was his next concern, and he practically entirely ignored your previous statement.

“I’m fine,” You assured him, before both of you turned your attention to what lay outside the cockpit.

It was a massive, circular chamber, clear of any hazards, and with good reason. On several different levels were buildings, housing a sizable civilization; the problem was, they all seemed to be missing. There was no sign of stir anywhere, as if they had all suddenly dropped what they were doing and promptly disappeared.

Although the center of attention, without a doubt, was the enormous, glowing blue egg hanging from the ceiling via a bundle of cords and wires.

“Me’ven?”

“I don’t know what you just said, Jay, but. Yeah. Whoa.”

Poe put the x-wing down on one side of the cavern. Once you were both on solid ground, you began to reattach your jetpack. BB-8 beeped curiously at Poe, who answered with, “No. Not what I was expecting either.” He shook his head to try and clear it. “I’m gonna check in with the others. Let ‘em know we made it.” BB-8 answered with a couple of questioning beeps. “Sure. Go for it. Track down that signal you were so worried about.” As his droid rolled off, Poe picked up the comms. You, still in a bit of a daze from the harrowing entry to the cavern, found yourself lost in admiring a distant crystalline waterfall that you could faintly hear from here.

“Black Two, come in.”

“I read you, Black Leader. You make it through alright?”

“Yeah. Got a little dicey, but we’re in. Wouldn’t’ve made it if it weren’t for Y/N.” You tossed him a look over your shoulder, one he met with a warm smile that gave you butterflies.

“What’s down there?”

Poe glanced around and shrugged. “Hard to say— looks like a settlement, maybe. Deserted, far as I can tell.” Even as he said it, you felt that wasn’t the case. “There is a pretty big egg, though.”

Snap was rightly confused. “‘Egg’? What are you… Ugh, listen, is there anywhere we can land? Scanners don’t see a flat surface anywhere near here bigger than a gundark.”

“The cave’s a tricky flight, Snap. We almost didn’t make it through. You guys should be good on fuel for a bit. Why don’t you let me look around a little, see if I—“

A blaster shot echoed so crisply in the cave it hurt your ears. Panic overwhelmed you as you spun around with sabers drawn, blasting to life in your hands. Poe was alright— shocked and with a throbbing hand from the impact— but he almost wasn’t. He was nearly killed.

Because I wasn’t paying attention.

No, miracle—

Neither of you could say much more. From out of nowhere, a stern-faced shaman had arrived with her posse of soldiers, all their blasters trained on the two of you. “Whoa whoa whoa! There is no need for that!” Poe cried, holding his aching hand.

BB-8 surged forward with his tiny zapper weapon ready, and you braced yourself in a fighting stance. “Easy! Easy, everyone just calm down.” BB-8 whirled in question. “Yes, that means you too, BB-8. I’m sure we can all be pals…” At the sight of their grim faces, he added, “Eventually.”

Poe nodded at you. It’s okay.

Reluctantly, you sheathed your blades and returned the hilts to your belt. “My name is Poe Dameron,” He said, “And the droid is BB-8. My Mandalorian friend here is Y/N Fett. We aren’t here for trouble. See?” He slowly laid his blaster on the ground before him. “I’m putting down my blaster. We’re here because we’re looking for someone— show ‘em, BB.”

The droid immediately showed the gathered tribespeople the holo of Lor San Tekka, right under the very orb in this cavern. The shaman recognized him immediately. “That’s… That’s the explorer.”

“You got it,” Poe nodded, “He was here, unless there’s another giant egg shrine around here somewhere. We just need to talk to him. And then we’ll be out of your hair, I promise. Where is he?”

“Gone,” the shaman answered, her voice briefly overcome with emotion and shadows in her all-black eyes. “He left long ago.”

“Kriff,” Poe hissed through his teeth. “Do you know where he went?”

“Even if I did, why would I tell you?” She snapped. “I know the explorer. I trust him. You…” She turned away. “I do not know at all.”

Poe was actually offended. “Hey, come on! Give me a chance, lady!”

You placed a hand on Poe’s shoulder, urging him to stand down. He did so reluctantly, letting you do your thing; if you were lesser, you simply would have used a mind trick to get the information. You refused to become that. Negotiation should never be underestimated. “My lady,” You said, catching her attention. She turned to listen to you. “My mentor is in grave danger, and the explorer you know is the only one who might know where he is in the entire galaxy. We must find him. Can you not help us?”

The shaman frowned, in disbelief. “We are the crèche. This egg—“ she gestured to the great orb above you— “is our charge, our purpose, and our salvation. We protect and nurture it, and in return, we bathe in its radiance.”

I don’t see what this has to do with—

Shut it, Poe. I’m negotiating.

Right. You’re doing amazing, sweetheart.

“Its presence guides our lives,” The shaman continued, “It holds salvation itself— the savior unborn. Someday the egg will hatch, and we, or our descendants, shall receive our reward for keeping it safe these many generations.” She turned a pointed glare onto you and Poe. “We will not allow anyone— anyone— to prevent that from happening.”

Poe scoffed. “What’s with the tone? I’m not here to hurt your egg. I like your egg!” If it weren’t for the seriousness of the situation, the absurdity of his comment would have made you laugh.

“We mean your charge no harm, my lady,” You said gently, “We only wish to know where the explorer went. We need his help, but first we need yours. Would you grant us that?”

She hesitated. “The explorer spent two full seasons with us, learning our ways and communing with the savior unborn. He became our brother, and in return we shared our secrets with him.” She alternated her glare between you and Poe. “Are you willing to do the same?”

Poe faltered, nervous under her pupil-less stare. “...We’re sort of on a deadline here.”

“As I thought,” the shaman huffed, “I will tell you nothing.”

BB-8 bumped into Poe, quietly asking permission like a child asking his father for something. “What? Oh, sure. Go ahead. Keep looking for that signal. I’m gonna see if we can’t figure this whole thing out.” To the shaman, he said, “Look, we really need to know where Lor… uh, the explorer went. This may be a little hard to believe, but the fate of the galaxy is at stake.”

“We completely agree,” the shaman said, although her stubborn and close-minded ways were making you frustrated. “That is why we have given up everything for our lives here. No matter what turbulent events shape the universe outside this place, as long as we protect the egg, all will be well in the end.”

Poe had less control over his agitation. “And if billions of people die in the meantime?! Come on, there has to be some way I can convince you that I’m one of the good guys— this is ridiculous!”

One of the soldiers trained his blaster on Poe because of his raised voice; you stepped between them, hands raised. “Easy… There’s no need for violence.”

“Okay, okay,” Poe took a few deep breaths, “You’re right, I got a little upset there. I’m good now. We’re all good. Nice and relaxed.”

BB-8’s frantic beeping brought your attention to him; your hearts sank at what you saw. “Harran—“

“Oh no,” Poe said as he took the First Order tracker from his droid; he lifted it, which probably wasn’t his best idea. “You need to listen to me right now, all of you!”

The shaman panicked. “He’s got a detonator— he’s threatening the egg! Take him down!”

“Hey, hey, let’s not be hasty,” Poe tried as every blaster in the room trained on him, “This isn’t a deton—“ They opened fire.

Poe dove, avoiding the blaster fire as you activated your sabers, using a series of well-timed spins to deflect their shots into the dirt. Poe rolled, kicking a soldier so hard that they fell back, allowing him to snatch their blaster. Standing back-to-back with BB-8 at your heels, you and Poe faced the gathered crowd of soldiers; before they could slaughter you both, you extended a palm and drew their weapons forcibly away from them via the Force. Your show of power made them stumble and gasp in fear.

“Okay then,” Poe breathed, licking his lips and tossing his head to get his curls out of his eyes, “Okay then!”

The shaman put herself between you and the egg, raising her hands as a poor defense. “Please! Don’t shoot the egg! You… You can’t!”

Your frustration mantled, and you unleashed it in a harsh twirl of your sabers and a growl. “Bic ni skana’din— sushir at ni! We are not here for your egg! We’re here because we need your help!”

“You know what this is?” Poe added, “A tracker. My droid just found it on my ship. It’s been signaling our location ever since I arrived on this planet.”

“I don’t understand,” the shaman replied unsurely, “Who has been tracking you?”

“The kind of people who’d boil up that egg and eat it for breakfast,” Poe dropped his blaster pointedly. “People who are nothing like us.” Their blasters were still trained on you, but you sheathed your sabers anyway, putting them back on your belt and raising your hands. “I’ve got people outside, up on the surface. They’ve got ships, weapons. You let me get word to them and we can protect you. I promise.” Warily, Poe stepped slowly through their ranks until he reached the shaman, extending a hand toward her. “What do you say? Pals?”

Reluctantly, the shaman nodded. “Very well. Return to your ship and call your allies.” Poe took off immediately at a run for the x-wing, while you and BB-8 remained with the shaman.

“You are the more level-headed of the two of you,” the shaman told you softly, “I like you better. Which I must admit is a first; most Mandalorians are cold and unforgiving.”

“That was after we decided to go ba’slan shev’la in order to avoid the extinction of our race,” You answered evenly.

The shaman gazed upon you with sympathy in her gaze. It was something Mandalorians rarely got. “You are a sad people.”

“Better to be sad than dead,” You countered softly, then averted your gaze. You didn’t like the pity in her eyes.

It made you feel weak.

—DAMERON—

“This is Black Leader. Anyone read?”

“Poe!” Snap’s relieved voice gave Poe hope. Maybe there was a chance for them after all, if the First Order hadn’t shown up yet. “Thank goodness!”

L’ulo interrupted the transmission. “I was about a second away from flying down into that cavern and looking for you, son.”

“I’m fine, L’ulo,” Poe assured him, “Listen, all of you: we’ve been made. There was a tracker on my ship. We’re gonna have company, I think. The First Order’s probably already on its way.”

“You got that a little wrong, Poe…” Karé’s input made him frown.

“I’m not wrong, Karé. I’m looking at the tracker right now.”

“Not about the tracker. About the First Order. They aren’t on their way.” Poe’s stomach and heart sank to the soles of his boots. “They’re already here.”

Right as she said it, he heard the rumble of an explosion on the other side of the massive door that you’d barely gotten them through earlier. “Fuck…”

“You must hide,” The shaman yelled, pointing toward an old garage filled of speederbikes half-built. “Hide your ship, and then follow me.”

Poe did as he was directed, concealing his ship in the tiny hangar before he was joined by the shaman, with you and BB-8 close behind. Unable to help himself, he took your hand as you ran after her, seeking the shelter of an old alcove a level up. It honestly looked like a sewer drainage channel, but you climbed in without hesitation, having obviously seen worse places that one could hide.

Soon enough all three of you were nestled safely inside with a view of the shrine from between a crack in the stone. He didn’t realize he was still holding your hand until you tugged him slightly closer as you shifted your weight. You’d only just gotten situated there when the massive blast door was blown clean off its hinges in a surge of fire and smoke.

Trailing out of the flames was a man on a speeder, and at least a dozen stormtroopers with jetpacks. They came to land in very nearly the same place Poe had. The shaman and the soldiers surrounded the man on the speeder, and in order for you both to hear the conversation transpiring better, you flipped a switch on your helmet. As you heard it, you transferred the memories of hearing it to Poe.

“How dare you blast your way into this sacred chamber!” The shaman cried. “That door was sealed for a reason. You must leave, interloper, before your presence pollutes the sacred energies of this chamber. Do not force us to destroy you.”

The man hummed thoughtfully. “My, my. Look at all these guns.” He gestured over his shoulder, at the troopers which were on their way. “Glad I brought some, too.” The soldiers and stormtroopers were at a standoff. Meanwhile, the man casually disembarked from his ride and brushed off his Imperial uniform. “I am sorry about the door. Perhaps I should have just knocked.”

I don’t like this guy already, Poe thought, he’s a haughty smartass.

Me neither, You agreed wholeheartedly.

“But we’ll fix it, I promise. We’ll fix that door, right?”

The trooper he addressed immediately replied, “Yes, sir. Of course.”

The man took off his helmet, revealing an older, scarred man with a short, silver band of hair across his head and a tattoo on his temple. “My name is Agent Terex of the First Order. I’m very pleased to meet you all. What’s going on with that egg, by the way? That thing is just a fabulous.”

His haughty, condescending tone made you and Poe bristle with a shared contempt for the officer, and everything he stood for.

“It is our charge,” The shaman answered nervously. “We are the crèche. The egg nurtures the savior unborn, who will save us all on the day of its emergence. Why have you come here? What do you want?”

“Why, that’s simple,” Agent Terex drawled out with a cruel smirk, “Poe Dameron, of course.”

“Uh-oh,” Poe breathed.

“Oh shit,” You echoed. BB-8 whirred anxiously.

The shaman played dumb. “Poe Dameron? Who is that?”

Poe turned to Beebs. “BB-8, get in touch with Snap and the rest of Black Squadron. This could get bad. I can feel it.” His admission didn’t go unnoticed by you, who gave his hand a squeeze. “We have to try to help these people.”

Agent Terex answered the shaman’s question coldly. “He’s a pilot with the republic. Human. He usually flies a black-and-orange starfighter.”

“How could we know him?” The shaman challenged. “The crèche has been alone in this cavern for years, safeguarding the savior unborn. As you saw, the entrance was sealed.”

Terex seemed amused by the shaman, turning to whisper to the trooper nearest to him. They immediately separated to begin searching the cavern. The shaman worried her hands, eyeing them nervously. “Please— you don’t need soldiers. We are peaceful.”

“Oh, I know that now. But, you know, strange planet, big galaxy. Better safe than sorry. Don’t worry, my men won’t hurt you.” The cruel turn of his lips under his pencil-thin gray mustache only made him look more sinister. “...Unless I tell them to, of course.”

BB-8 quietly bliped at Poe, and he turned to look at his droid hopefully. “You got through to Snap, BB-8? Good. Hopefully the rest of Black Squadron can figure something out. Because I have a feeling this is about to—“

“Picked up the tracker’s signal, sir,” a trooper informed Agent Terex, “It’s a bit degraded. Looks like they tried to destroy it. But the device is hardened. Can survive just about anything. Dameron was here. He probably still is.”

“Fuck,” Poe hissed.

You looked at him, and Poe met what he expected— and partially knew— was your direct gaze. “Was the end of your sentence maybe ‘go all to hell,’ Poe? Because that’s the only place I see this going.”

Terex, haughty in this discovery, turned on the shaman. “Oh, wow. Did you hear that? Guess you guys are just a bunch of liars!” Terex turned to his men, almost seeming pleased that he gets to torture these poor people. “So, troopers. I’m not sure polite inquiry is providing the results I’m looking for. What do you say we find out what’s inside this big old egg of theirs?”

The shaman panicked. So did Poe.

He got to his feet, and felt your concern. “Poe, what are you—“

Poe pressed on your shoulders until you were sitting. You clutched at his sleeves, worry and fear coming off of you in waves that he tried not to let bother him. “Stay here.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Poe shook his head. Audible words failed him, and he found himself feeding you a flood of thoughts in rapid succession. No, miracle, baby, stay. Stay here. I’m gonna need your backup. Terex can’t see you, he’ll report directly to Ren. Do not show your face unless absolutely necessary, Jay, please, promise me.

You clung to him for a moment longer, trying to fight your own fears. “You’d better damn well be careful, Poe.”

He knew you’d stay.

Terex grew agitated. “Where’s Poe Dameron?”

Poe took one last look at you and turned to leave the pipe, rushing for the stairs; he put his hands up. “I’m here!” He shouted, catching the attention of everyone in the cavern. Thankfully, they didn’t shoot him on sight. “I’m right here.”

Terex grinned widely, snapping his fingers at a couple of troopers to come and collect him. Roughly, he was escorted to meet the agent face-to-face. “Stop torturing these poor people,” Poe snapped at once, “I’m sure we can work everything out. Don’t be hasty.”

“Oh? Why not?”

Terex’s words surprised Poe. “Excuse me?”

The agent gestured elaborately, sarcastically. Poe wanted to punch him square in the face. “You just said ‘don’t be hasty.’ I’m curious to know why you think you can tell me to do anything at all. Seems like I’ve got all the leverage here, my new friend.”

“Ah,” Poe said, in mock-realization. He could be a smartass, too, though. “Funny you should mention that.” Terex arched an eyebrow as Poe continued. “I didn’t come here alone. I’ve got a squadron up on the surface. Pretty much the best starfighter pilots in the galaxy. And just before I walked down here, I gave them an order. I asked them to get me some leverage. So, you might think you’ve got it all under control. That you’ve got the upper hand. And maybe you do… down here. But I’ll tell you this right now… you aren’t seeing the bigger picture.” Poe furrowed his brow. “Looks like we’ve got a stalemate here, pal.”

A tremor shook the very foundations of the cavern, followed by a blast of flames and fire that rolled out of the entrance above. Shit.

Terex was unfazed. “Stalemate?” He drawled out, grinning. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” He gestured to the nearby flametroopers, and Poe’s heart sank. “Gentlemen, if you please.”

“Of course, sir.” Almost immediately, they unleashed their weapons on the egg. Aside from glowing more intensely, it seemed fine for the moment, but Poe wondered just how much it— or the creature inside— could take.

Terex stepped forward, all pretenses of sarcasm and condescension wiped from his face. Standing there instead was rather a man on a mission, one which, if it involved the needless suffering of innocent and maybe squashing Poe’s face under his boot, he would be perfectly fine seeing through. “Now. You’re going to tell me everything I want to know, Dameron. That will happen in any case. The only decision you have in front of you is how quickly you tell me.”

The shaman cried, “Sing to the savior unborn! Ease its pain!” And launched the gathered tribespeople into something that sounded an awful lot like a eulogic song to Poe.

Terex scoffed at the display. “You seem to care about these fools, for some reason. If you talk now, maybe I can see about saving their savior. If not… my men will get to enjoy the galaxy’s largest omelet.” Poe met Terex’s cruel grin with a frown. “See, here’s the thing. Maybe you did pull something off up there. Perhaps… up there… you have the upper hand. But, as you said… We are down here. And I didn’t come here alone, either.”

Poe’s stomach kept dropping the longer Terex turned his own words against him. “In fact, I came here aboard the Ravenous, a Maxima-A class heavy cruiser which carries an extremely impressive complement of fighters and troops. It’s in orbit above the planet as we speak. So, I’m afraid that whatever you think you’ve accomplished… whatever leverage you think you hold… you aren’t seeing the bigger picture.”

Poe swallowed hard, a chilly sweat running down his back as he tried to swallow past the feeling of being so utterly trapped.

What do we do now, Poe?

I don’t know, miracle. I just don’t know.

“So, Poe Dameron…” Backlit by the flames of his troopers against the egg— which began to crack like glass— Terex looked absolutely vile. “Let’s talk.”

—FETT—

Alongside BB-8, you watched anxiously as the egg continued to crack, as your situation was revealed to be more and more dire. As a Mandalorian— or anyone, really— sitting up in your little perch while Poe was so exposed made you dizzy with frustration.

“What do you want, Terex?” Poe snapped.

“It’s Agent Terex, if you please,” Terex corrected smugly, “Titles matter. I am a ranking officer in the First Order Security Bureau. My job, in short, is to know things. You, of course, are Poe Dameron, pilot for the New Republic Navy, and more recently for Leia Organa’s silly Resistance. But that’s your name, not a title. Your title should be thief. Bandit. Crook. Scoundrel. You stole First Order property— data we bought and paid for— and I am here to get it back. That’s what I want.”

“We all want things, pal,” Poe snarked, “But until you tell your TIEs to call off their attack on my squadron, and ease up with the flamethrowers on that egg, we’ve got nothing to talk about. I ain’t telling you a damn thing.”

“You should be more worried about yourself, Poe,” Terex said, “After all, your colleagues are flying starfighters. I’m sure they’re just fine.” Terex locked his arms behind his back, one to think highly of himself. The chaos of the cracking egg and singing tribespeople was making your head start to spin.

“Now, you are clearly a criminal,” Terex continued, “I could arrest you and bring you up on charges in either a New Republic court or a First Order tribunal. But that would take so long, and I’m not the most patient man. In situations like this, I prefer more direct solutions. I turn up the heat, if you w—“

The egg nearly busted open completely with a beam of light, startling the stormtroopers into a ceasefire. It also made Terex stop his rambling. “Huh. How about that,” Poe said softly, “You actually can stop talking.”

Nervously, a stormtrooper began to ask for orders. “Uh… sir… should we—“

The egg cracked further. You and BB-8 balked, and the droid emitted a slew of profanities in binary as the egg’s light became so bright that you had to look away. “The savior unborn! It comes at last!” The shaman was screaming, “Our long vigil is ended— we will be redeemed!”

All went white as the egg burst with a sound like shattering glass, too brilliant to look at. You shielded BB-8 as wind and shards of shell flew everywhere, latching onto your Dyad with Poe to ensure that you knew he was safe. When it was over, you peered out of your hiding place to find an odd discovery.

Roughly twelve feet tall stood a winged, vaguely humanoid creature, fit and oddly silent for a creature its size. It shimmered with the amniotic fluid of the egg, like a butterfly just out of its cocoon, its glowing white eyes focused on the shaman as she sang its praises.

Meanwhile, BB-8 rushed out of your hiding place to join Poe. You made to follow after him, but Poe’s voice in your head made you stop immediately. Not yet.

I can’t just sit here.

If Terex sees you, Ren will know where you are.

The thought— the fear— of Ben knowing that you were with the Resistance made you stand still. If Ben knew, he’d seek you out more vivaciously. You wouldn’t be able to leave, back to your obscure little life on the fringes of the galaxy. Poe felt sympathy for you, and you heard him secondhand as he spoke into the comms to Black Squadron, “This could be our shot— if you see an opening, take it.”

The creature, with a furious shriek, swiped at the gathered and awed tribespeople. Whoa. That’s a bit anticlimactic. I thought it was supposed to be a savior?

Guess not.

“So much for saviors,” Terex scoffed, otherwise unaffected, and very much on the same mental track as the both of you— except he didn’t anticipate Poe’s next move.

Poe lunged in a punch, one which you knew was deliberately not very good. BB-8 rolled up undetected behind Terex and snatched his blaster right out of its holster as Poe kept him occupied. Terex, however, still thought very highly of himself. “Oh ho! A sucker punch, eh? Well, you aren’t the first to try it, and I suppose you won’t be the last.” Terex “effortlessly” dodged Poe’s fake attacks before grabbing his arm, twisting it, and shoving Poe down so hard into the dirt that it knocked the breath out of his lungs momentarily. “But you should know— when it comes to dirty tricks, I am absolutely filthy. You probably ought to stick to playing hero in your x… wing…” It was then he noticed that his blaster was gone.

“That wasn’t a sucker punch, Terex,” Poe huffed as he got to his feet, taking the blaster from BB-8 and whirling around to face Terex. “It was a distraction.”

All around you the chaos grew as the creature attacked, and stormtroopers attempted to defend themselves. The tribespeople had, in their terror, scattered, save for the troubled shaman.

“It’s over, Terex,” Poe shouted to be heard over the conflict. “Tell your fighters to pull back to orbit, and call off the attack down here.”

“I think you’re misreading the situation, Poe,” Terex said, “My troopers aren’t attacking. They’re defending. I’m not sure these crèche idiots had any idea what was inside that egg all this time. My troops are the only thing keeping any of us alive.”

“Why are you doing this?” The shaman wailed, on her knees; she just wasn’t getting the fact that she needed to maybe run away from it. “How have we angered you? Please— tell us where we have gone wr—“

The creature interrupted her by snatching her up and bringing her to its mouth; you lunged on instinct, nearly revealing yourself, but you didn’t have to.

Another version of the creature, this one black, lunged with a screech of vengeance from the shadows, landing a blow so strong on the blue one that it nearly knocked them both clean over. Now occupied with each other rather than the little people— and seeming much bigger than before— they fought amongst themselves.

“Whoa.” Poe’s awe mirrored your own. BB-8 whistled in astonishment. “I know, buddy. Kind of makes you think.”

Terex took Poe’s momentary lapse of focus to his advantage, lunging and trying to wrestle the blaster out of his hands. Poe was stronger, able to keep the blaster out of his reach. “Would you—fuck— would you give it up?”

“Never,” Terex replied calmly, “That is my blaster, Dameron. And once I have it back I will kill you.” He landed a horrible kick to BB-8. “And your idiot droid, too.”

The creatures grew larger, paying no mind to the harmless blows the stormtroopers landed on it as they began to grow too large for the cavern.

And Terex was still. Fucking. Talking. Even while wrestling Poe.

“You may wonder why I would kill you, as you still haven’t given me the information you stole from the First Order.”

“Mostly wondering how the fuck I can get you to shut up.”

“I’ve been trying to understand why you’re fighting so hard to protect these fools. And I think I finally see. You’re not fighting to protect them.” The creatures took flight, the wind from their wings much like a hurricane. The new addition was enough to give Terex the upper hand in the fight, even as the ceiling started to come down around them. “You’re fighting to protect something they have— something they haven’t given to you yet. That’s why you were still here when I arrived. Whatever you want, they still have it. And that means I can get it from them. And so really, Mr. Thief…” He managed to crack Poe’s arm over his knee and loosen his hold on the blaster, throwing Poe to the ground once more.

No.

The ceiling was coming down. Terex had his blaster, and had surmised that he didn’t need Poe alive. Without a second thought, you launched yourself from the nook, skipping the stairs and simply flying down, your sights set on Terex. With the Force as your guide, you were able to dodge the huge chunks of debris that fell off and thundered around you, crushing stormtroopers flat.

“I don’t need you alive at all,” Terex hummed.

Poe didn’t even bother standing up, knowing that you would save him, that he didn’t need to— you both knew he’d survive this. “Well, great. Real glad you worked all that out.”

Terex finally seemed to realize what was happening, realizing that his troops were being annihilated around him. “No!”

Your foot in the center of his back, with that momentum from your jet-powered flight, sent him sprawling with what was probably a couple cracked ribs. Your saber burst to life and hovered inches from his neck; Terex’s eyes flicked from the weapon to your helmet, something like triumph shifting in his expression. You were vaguely aware of Poe warning Black Squadron of the winged creatures headed their way. “You’re the one he’s looking for. Kylo Ren. The Mandalorian Jedi.”

Your grip tightened on your blade. “I am no Jedi.”

“Perhaps not,” Terex chuckled, “But still. You’ve thrown your lot in with the Resistance, hm? Ren will love to have that confirmed.”

BB-8 buzzed angrily and zapped Terex so hard that he knocked him out. You sheathed your saber, addressing the droid with a soft nod. “Thank you.” BB-8 warbled in assurance.

As the creatures left, silence befell the cavern. You turned to face Poe, who rushed to you, partly relieved, partly worried. “Miracle— oh, baby—“ He engulfed you in a brief tight embrace before pulling back to check you over for injuries. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Poe I’m fine— you—“

“I’m okay,” Poe smiled when he realized you were telling the truth about your condition. “You’re okay; Black Squadron is okay. Everybody’s okay. We did it.”

He took you in his arms and held you close, awash with gratefulness that you all survived the ordeal. “We’re okay.”

—DAMERON—

It was at least an hour before everything settled.

Terex called off the attacking TIEs and gathered his surviving men, which were corralled into a group being guarded by the tribespeople. The strange black creature, victorious over the blue, was perched nearby, watching over its people. Black Squadron had landed in the cavern, now ridiculously exposed; Karé and Jess, with the help of Karé’s astromech and BB-8, checked over their starfighters for any more hidden trackers. L’ulo, Snap, and you stayed by Poe as he negotiated with the shaman, explaining everything and receiving information in return.

“And what will you do now, Dameron?” Terex called from his place as an essential prisoner, “You won’t kill me— you would have done it already. And you can’t take me prisoner. If you did, you would give the First Order clear justification to launch an attack on the New Republic.”

Poe regarded him with an arched brow and pursed lips. “...You know what, man? You’re sort of a drag.”

“The problem is easily solved,” L’ulo said quietly. “Terex can’t have many TIEs left. Once we refuel, we can fly up and take out his cruiser in orbit on our way home. Let the crèche decide what to do with him.”

“It’s no good,” Poe shook his head, hands finding his hips. “The First Order would send another ship, maybe even a star destroyer. They’d burn this whole planet looking for him.”

“So, what…” Snap looked between those present with a furrowed brow. “We just let him go?”

“Do we have much of a choice?” You said softly; even knowing that Snap and L’ulo didn’t trust you, Poe couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride that you inputted anyway.

“No,” The shaman answered, “We do not. We will let him go. He can’t hurt us anymore.” She looked in awe to the black creature, which watched her curiously. “The savior… born. It will carry us far from here, to wherever our new life will begin.”

“Can I ask you something?” Poe inquired. It was a question that had been on his mind this whole time— between moments of almost getting killed, of course.

“Of course, Poe Dameron. You fought for us. You worked to save us, when it would have been easier to save yourself. Ask me anything.”

“Well, I do have the one big question, but before that— tell me… all this time, all those generations down here— did you guys have any idea what was actually in that egg?”

The shaman regarded him with a new manner of respect. “No. But that was never the point.”

The shaman gathered her people to the creature after speaking privately with him; carefully, they all gathered upon its back, and waved goodbye as it ferried them away, to who-knows-where, leaving all they’d once been behind. It wasn’t an easy feat, and Poe admired that.

Down to business. He approached Terex with a frown. The blows he’d landed were fake, and highly unsatisfying. “Okay. Here’s how we’re gonna do this— I get out of here with my guys, and you get to stay down here for the time being. On our way out, we’ll radio your cruiser to come pick you up. Everybody goes home, and we forget this ever happened.”

“Oh, I doubt I will ever forget this happened, Poe Dameron.” Terex’s narrowed eyes were cold and unforgiving. He hated the way he glowered at him.

He didn’t let the officer’s ominous last words to him bother him, though. “Uh-huh. See you around, Agent Terex.”

It was during the launch sequence— specifically, right after take-off— that you decided to drop a bomb on him. “I can’t go with you after Lor San Tekka, Poe.”

“Wha—“

“Terex knows that I’m with you. Ren knows that I’m with you. Or rather, they think they do. Our Dyad doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, it won’t be taken into consideration when they come looking for me. They won’t expect to look for me alone. Time is ticking. We need to find Luke. I know where to go on Tatooine. Leave me there, so that I can search for Luke in the only other easily accessible place he might be while you continue your search for Lor. This way we can cover more ground, eliminate two options, and can regroup when it’s done.”

Poe hesitated.

He couldn’t disagree with the logic. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it. He (selfishly, he thought) didn’t want to be away from you— not that distance, not that long. But his wants came second to the war effort; so did yours. You both knew that. Reluctantly, Poe nodded. “Yeah. Okay, miracle. I’ll take you to Tatooine. But you’ve gotta promise me something.”

“What is it?” Your voice was soft, gentle.

“...Promise me you’ll laugh more when we get back together.” Your little chuckle made his heart jump.

“Alright, Poe. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“And you’ll be careful,” Poe added hurriedly.

“It’s like you don’t even know who I am,” You teased.

“I do,” Poe said, “And that’s the problem.” There was a brief, comfortable silence between you, like your minds were holding hands. BB-8 regretfully interrupted with a series of little chirps. “Yeah, BB-8, she told me where Lor San Tekka went when he left this planet.” The thought of his destination made him sick to his stomach. “Looks like we’re going to prison.”

—FETT—

The two of you stood on the ridge of a dune overlooking Mos Eisley. It was truly an iconic place— for your family in general, and for the Skywalker for whom you searched.

The twin suns set on the horizon of the golden desert, sand-riddled winds whipping around you carelessly. The city and spaceport bustled below. “Landing outside of the city was a pretty good idea, miracle,” Poe hummed thoughtfully.

“Thanks,” You said softly, turning to face him. “Qui-Gon said that I probably wouldn’t find him here.”

Poe nodded solemnly. “...Yeah. I heard that. But you’ve still gotta look. It’s more efficient this way.”

You looked at him. In his dark caff eyes, you saw warmth. You saw an unwarranted kindness for a bounty hunter that he had scarcely spoken with other than passing moments until only recently. His small, questioning smile only made you more curious, more confused… An emotion came from him that you couldn’t quite place.

Hesitantly, your hand moved— almost of its own accord, as if pulled by something far more powerful than either of you— and brushed against his. As if he’d been waiting for it, Poe responded immediately, gripping your hand tightly and entwining your fingers together. The Force balanced in your surroundings, as though your chaotic emotions were put in check with his touch. Sparks and lightning raced up your arm, your left arm, the arm that ended in the link between your hands; it was aimed straight for your heart.

“Poe...” You weren’t sure what you meant by it. Whether you were reprimanding him for such actions, or if you simply needed him to verbally tell you what he was feeling. What is this? You were dying to ask, didn’t even voice aloud in your Dyad. Are we... really still just friends?

Your Mandalorian Creed bid you to be brave and merely ask him.

But your young heart only tightened your grip on his hand, too afraid of his rejection to even try.

Because all the other fears in the galaxy... you could face those, easily. You could fight them. But if you had to live a life without seeing him ever again, or then awkwardly and tense... That fear held you back. That was one you could never beat.

Poe’s eyes still somehow managed to lock with yours through the visor of your helmet, feeling your anxiety— both halves of it. He chose to comfort you about the less complicated side of it. “Don’t worry, Jay. Ren rarely does the dirty work himself. We’ll never even see his ship, more than likely.”

You heaved a sigh, trying to ease the resounding ache in your chest. “...I spent… a long time trying to pretend like he’s not out there. Like he died that day, my brother. I could always see the smoke from his fire on the horizon, a distant threat but one I could ignore so long as I kept walking. And now here we are... going towards it.”

Poe turned so that he was fully facing you, standing closer than he ever had. If it weren’t for your helmet, you might have even been in range to kiss him. His intense bronze gaze held yours with an astounding amount of confidence; there was no sign of the reckless bravado you’d come to expect of him. When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost a whisper. Your whole body tensed when his free hand came up to hold your shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. “I’m not gonna let him find you, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be back in a few days to get you. Then we can keep looking for Luke. You’re not gonna be alone.”

You stiffly nodded, but neither of you moved. Held in place by some invisible tug not unlike the Force, you both stood as if you wished to say something more. Something that would change everything between you.

But neither of you did.

Neither of you dared to cross the bridge between you, afraid of its integrity. Somehow the daughter of Boba Fett and the greatest starfighter pilot in the galaxy could not brave this threat. At least... not verbally.

You were leaning into him before you realized it, surprised when he did the same. His hand that had held your shoulder came up to rest in the crook of your neck, thumb caressing your helmet like he would your cheek. Your foreheads met and stayed there, eyes closed to savor a peaceful moment before the sunset. Automatically, you cupped his face in one hand, the one free of the tight grip you both still held; you wished you did not wear gloves, if only to feel the warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

Maybe you imagined it, heard what you wanted to, but you swore then that his breath hitched. Perhaps to anyone who may have seen, your silhouettes against the backdrop of the setting suns might have been romantic. If only you knew for sure his true feelings. You dared not use the Force to find them, even in an innocent manner: not to him.

You stood there for several minutes, lost to anything around you and absorbed only in the presence of each other. It was over in a heartbeat. Poe pulled away, perhaps a bit reluctantly. There was a deep sadness on his face, one you wished you could wipe clear and replace with a beaming smile. He turned to walk down the hill, but you didn’t miss the fact that his hand remained entwined with yours until the very last second, even letting your fingers drag across one another almost desperately, seeking some sign to stay. Neither of you could give it, scared as you were.

You felt the pair of you abandon the opposite ends of that bridge as it crumbled into the river of doubt, somewhat content to walk the banks on either side, in sight of each other, until you came to the next one.

Without his presence you felt cold, and alone, a feeling which only intensified the more steps he took down the hill away from you. You wondered if he felt the same... or if you simply imagined it with wishful thinking. You wondered, as he clambered up into the tandem x-wing alone, if he would keep his promise to come back for you, or if this would be the last you saw of him for a long time... or maybe forever. Did he even want this bond with you? Was he going to try and accept it, like you, or did he despise it? What if he didn’t? What if something happened to him?

You wanted to turn away, but you wanted to burn his image into your mind more, in case he never came back. In case you were left looking for Luke on your own. He looked back once, right before he got into the cockpit. And then he was in, the canopy was closing, and the engines were starting.

I will come back for you, miracle.

You damn well better, flyboy.

You felt him smile, and that feeling transferred a bit to you.

You watched as the x-wing flew low overhead, departing with your heart stored in the pockets of its pilot. The deafening roar of its power did little to you, only an imprint of Poe having been near you. You stood on the hill and watched the x-wing’s silhouette against the enormous suns, which hung in the sky before him like two great gates of fate and fire. “...I love you,” You said into the empty air before you, now silent, as your eyes, locked on the shrinking x-wing, shed a few tears you couldn’t stifle.

—DAMERON—

If only you knew that Poe Dameron, from within the confines of his cockpit, wrestled with his own confused emotions. That he too whispered three words to himself in the hopes that the universe would acknowledge it, so that maybe he could, too. That he too had tried to fight the fear of rejection, had taken the first few steps across the bridge before turning back.

He wanted to turn back. To land his x-wing and embrace you again. Tatooine became smaller and smaller behind him, and as he punched in the coordinates for lightspeed, one thought above all made the clenching ache in his chest only worse: I should’ve kissed her. I should’ve told her. But what if she doesn’t want this Dyad? What if she thinks I’m taking advantage of her? What if I am taking advantage of her?

He promised you he’d return, and he fully intended to. But he could very well be killed on Megalox Beta, and you’d never know how strongly he felt for you. He hesitated before launching into lightspeed, eyes lingering on the planet upon which stood the young Mandalorian woman who had his full heart and soul stored somewhere in her intricate armor. “I’ll come back for you. I promise.” He felt a hum. Even from this distance, you heard him.

His ship shot into the blue tunnel of lightspeed, pulling him farther and farther away from you until there would be whole vast distances of space between you. But it didn’t matter, not to either of you. You’d find each other again, admittance to feelings or not, regardless of whatever time or space separated you.

Poe kept your laugh in his mind as he flew, and it made him smile.

————————————————————————

This is probably the single longest fic I’ve ever written at just over 30k— thank you all so much for reading it!

Tags: @poeticsorcery @dameronsknight @simonsbluee @seninjakitey @ahookedheroespureheart @stevengrantsrealgf @bluestuesday @magnet-girl @dweeb-central @auszimbo @izbelross @djarinsgirl27 @sokoviansorceress @eerievixen @upbeat-cascade @stark-kirk-rogers-grant-blog @stepasidefilth @missdragon-1 @rmoonstoner @oscarisaacsspit @hopefulfangirl24 @bit-dodgy-innit @marc-spectorr @lovely-cryptid @johnny-simpfinger @drwhofangirl1963 @harrys-tittie @infinitelyforgotten @300nightmare003 @pascallllllll1 @knopewyattworld @weliketomoveit @soullesstaco @megzdoodle @graciexmarvel @sunfairyy @darth-vaders-bitch @paintballkid711 @thedudefromdownunder @howlerwolfmax @sofiapadilla28 @ghostwriteser @shirukitsune @cravevhs @kaqua @heylosers06 @sydmochi7 @daawnsutopia @no-dont-be-suspicious @hot-mess-express1 @mymentalbreakdownsblog @a-rose-of-amber

#poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x forceuser!reader #poe dameron x forcesensitive!reader #poe dameron x mandalorian!reader #poe dameron x mando!reader #poe dameron x fem!reader #poe dameron #boba fett #luke skywalker #kylo ren #din djarin #leia organa #star wars fics #star wars fic #star wars sequel trilogy #temuera morrison #mark hamill #adam driver #pedro pascal #carrie fisher #oscar isaac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada

[dmagedgoods]

Sphinx, somehow I can't remember if I already sent an alternate love interest ask!! If I didn't, let this be the one.... I don't believe I've seen anyone ask yet about Eneas and Galfrey, so I would be curious! And for something silly, Salvadore and Woljif. I am relatively sure my tracking list is up to date... pardon if I've accidentally sent a duplicate.

Ohh, you only sent this one and it’s highly interesting. 👀 Eneas and Galfrey, this would be glorious if the game would allow it. And while I wouldn’t say he’s terribly strict regarding what his “type” entails (one of the most intense, most important romances that ever happened to him in any universe, was in Enderal with a chaotic neutral character, leaning chaotic good, to speak in alignment terms), a high sense for duty and a strict set of values works extraordinarily well with him. Eneas knows how to treat a queen, his manners are flawless, he would court and serve her with a combination of open admiration, bold flattery, and humble devotion.

Since he would start on Aeon path, things would go very well in the beginning. He likes to make meaningful gifts and his ability to read emotions far too easily surely comes in handy.

For the first time in a long while his adoration would grow into a sincere affection that would go deeper than a fondness he can carry with him without needing to act on. He would sincerely try to gain her trust, of course without showing too much of himself.

It would be one of his personas again, one of his roles: He would create and become the perfect second-hand man for her – and mean any part in it that’s of importance. But she’d only know a very small part about him and his life.

How well would this go? It seems they wouldn’t even find out.

Eneas has been betrayed so often in his life and became a master of it too. To find himself in the situation where she turns against him – while she didn’t even discover the truth about – oh, this would be a very, very painful stab. And like a bloody amateur, he didn’t see it coming. He would struggle in the Abyss after her deed, lost in feelings of all-consuming pain and rage he thought he had left behind many decades ago.

But even if it was possible to repair what would break between them in this moment – and he’s terribly bad at forgiving when someone actually managed to hurt him – I see an even bigger problem:

Eneas himself refuses to judge his own actions as “good” or “evil” – and he does a lot of both sorts actually –, there is so much more to it and this spectrum to simple for his taste. He rarely feels regret, but he did a lot of things in his life Galfrey would condemn. Unfortunately, I doubt she’d ever even attempt to see beyond his crimes should she find out about his schemes and games and deeds.

It’s a pity, because for someone he actually loves, he’d adopt their moral code to a degree, not believing in their reasoning but doing so in deep admiration for the person following it. ~ Omg, Salvadore and Woljif. Poor Woljif. 😭😂 I have to admit Salvadore was amused, even delighted, by his humor and shenanigans right from the start and felt a surprising fondness. You know that Sal usually keeps his personal distance. But Woljif won him over with his way of talking, his behavior, even with how openly untrustworthy he was (something that would make Sal react with cold aloofness in almost any other case).

He still tried to act mainly professional around him and not to rely too much on him, knowing that he’d probably run off soon.

Ah, he failed at both and felt the heavy loss when Woljif left during the Gargoyle attack.

It needed Woljif’s act 4 quest, though, and even a bit longer for Sal to finally truly accept the fact that they were actual friends (and had been friends for a long time already).

What I want to say: Woljif means a huge lot to him, did so before Salvadore himself fully realized it even. But they are utterly incompatible as a couple.

Any kind of romantic and/or sexual spark between the two of them is entirely missing. I can’t even fully explain it. They love to spend time together, they love to joke together, they love to plan their charity projects together, to talk about Woljif’s newest findings, Salvadore is relaxed and even playful around him (something he only shows with those very close to him to this degree), but I can’t imagine them flirting without them chuckling about it a moment later.

I can imagine Daeran with Woljif, though, if they feel adventurous, and Sal watching, in a “we had too much wine, let's try this” scenario after one of their nights in a tavern. Woljif would probably get nervous about it the next day and Sal guarantee that it is alright with a little kiss to his lips, but it would stay a one-time-happening probably.

And even if Salvadore and Woljif would end up together in some universe by a weird miracle: Sal would be too intense for him, too dominant, too ambitious etc. etc. And Woljif too insecure in return regarding relationship things, not used to the sort of “dance” Salvadore enjoys so much and he’d probably rather flee than allow him to show him how it works.

#oc: eneas #galfrey #pathfinder wotr #woljif #knight commander salvadore #oc: salvadore #my ocs #dmagedtexts

[freelanceexorcist]

It’s speculatin’ time again! And it’s just capital C-Crazy enough to almost be as crazy as some of the stuff that actually made it into canon. I know I usually use the term timeline, but the trailer’s mention of “worlds” makes me think we’re actually dealing with multiple universes. I know it seems like a distinction without a difference, but they really aren’t the same thing.

FFVIIR spoiler-ish stuff and TL; DR under the cut.

So what we know so far from the trailers is that Ore Sephiroth may possibly be from a different universe. Possibly the Zack Survives one. And we know that Watashi’s idea of Reunion is to merge these timelines and bring about some kind of rebirth, hence the name of the game. Ore thinks that he killed Tifa, so it follows that he is also responsible for the Nibelheim incident and that the point of divergence is some time after that.

Buuuuut…what if Ore had nothing to do with any Nibelheim variant in any timeline/universe? What if Reunion began before the story started? It comes down to memories.

I’m working off of the assumption that if Rebirth is what I think it is, one of two things could happen. Either the merging of the worlds will cause the variants (if you'll pardon the Marvel-speak) in each universe to fuse together and be reborn as “perfect” beings or the many worlds will cancel each other out and cease to exist. And Watashi is so pants-on-head crazy that he’s not even considering that the latter will cause him to disappear as well.    

I mean, what if the former is what's happenin and those aren’t Ore’s memories of the Nibelheim incident, but Watashi’s? What if he “remembers” torching Nibelheim in the same way Cloud “remembers” being in SOLDIER? With Cloud, it happened inadvertently but maybe Ore is having it forced on him Then it becomes a race against the clock to stop this from happening while Ore fights like hell to keep himself intact and not be subsumed by Watashi. Perhaps he does succeed in stopping at least himself from being assimilated and him having his pre-Nibelheim memories as well as the separate memories of Watashi is the key to defeating Watashi and stopping disaster from happening.

There are fans, me included, who are thirsty for pre-Nibelheim Sephiroth never having fallen from grace to become the villain. There are fans, again me included, who wouldn’t say no to Chaotic Neutral Sephiroth who is neither good nor evil. And then there are those fans who lose their shit at the very notion of the word “redemption” being used in the same sentence as the name Sephiroth. What if this is how we get all three?

As for what the point of divergence was for Ore, I guess it doesn’t really matter. Maybe he caught on to Hojo’s bullshit sooner and refused the Nibelheim mission because why did they need a pair of SOLDIER 1sts to fix a damn valve anyway? Maybe on his way to the library he saw the bookshelves in a certain well-appointed and well-lit study, decided to start there first and woke Vincent, who gave him the verbal smack upside the head that he badly needed at the time. Or maybe the guy in the robe in Junon really is young Sephiroth’s new surrogate dad Glenn, who universe-hopped with him, and it’s him who kept Seph on the straight and narrow all these years and helped him find information on Lucrecia. Sure, why not? He’s a Gary Stu and we all know those characters can bend time and space to do whatever they want.

Anyway, I’m off to reread this a few more times to find ways to poke holes in it. I’ll let you know what I come up with. Thank you for reading, if you did.

#Sephiroth #FFVII Rebirth #FFVIIR #crackpot speculation #she's doing it again

[r-osehips]

F & M for the fanfic ask game.

ooh thank you!

I'll do M first because my answer to F got pretty long.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

several, but I'll just mention two for now!

Star Wars AU described here, following a part-Anakin, part-Vader main character who's determined to learn necromancy so he can (unwisely) raise Obi-Wan and Padme from the dead

sequel to my current POTC fic, but from Elizabeth's POV and following her arc to becoming Pirate King within the circumstances of the AU (I have started writing this but idk how long it's gonna take to outline the whole thing let alone execute it)

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

pretty much the entire chaotic group conversation in chapter 4 of the things you do for love, especially:

“Really, mate, this is your fault,” Sparrow said to Beckett, gesturing at James and Elizabeth. “Sounds like you left no other choice for the good commodore — well, maybe soon-to-be-former commodore, pardon me.” He turned to consult James. “What do you think? I’d call you Mr. Norrington, but that’s too formal for a friend of Lizzie’s. How about Jimmy?”

Barbossa laughed; Elizabeth snickered, but had the decency to smother it into her hand and look apologetic.

“Commodore Norrington will do perfectly well,” James enunciated. “Lord Beckett does not have the authority to strip me of my title without a court-martial.”

Sparrow gave him an exaggerated bow. “Very good, Commodore.” He went back to Beckett. “As I was saying, you’ve only yourself to blame. You had a perfectly good pirate-killer and you went and pushed him over the edge.”

“While Lizzie pulled, it seems,” Barbossa interjected. Elizabeth made no denial.

"I can sympathize with your mistake, though. See, I’m dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly,” Sparrow continued, clapping Beckett on the shoulder and pointing vaguely at James, “it’s the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they’re going to do something incredibly stupid.”

“Such as ally themselves with pirates,” Beckett said, and though seeing him agree with Sparrow was hardly the most surreal thing James had witnessed this night, it was still remarkably strange; almost as strange as the feeling James had when he himself agreed with Elizabeth.

“One pirate,” James corrected, though he hardly knew why he bothered with such a weak defense. “Only one.” 

this (and the whole scene it's in) is a favorite because:

it was tremendously fun to write

it remains very fun to read

the five (5) characters feel true to canon to me, from their voices to their motivations to their (often shifting) alleigances

it provides momentum to both the plot and the friends-to-enemies-to-wary-allies-to-lovers ship at the center of the fic

again, I cannot emphasize enough how fun it was to write

from these prompts -- ask me any of em!

#asks #my fic #theonlyredcar

[intothewickedwood]

Once Upon A Time In Wonderland Rewatch: 1x04 The Serpent

Yay! I can relax this week. No scary monsters!

I do feel so sorry for young Jafar. I can see how his childhood influenced his personality.  

Listen, I love almost everything about Amara. I think she’s such an intriguing character and she’s beautiful, but the one thing I freaking hate is that she straight up groomed Jafar. Like, wtf?? It’s so gross. She has sons. Why would she do that to a young boy?? It makes me feel so freaking sick.  

The way everyone is so terrified of her, and Jafar looks her straight in the eye, pleading for her to help him. He’s so desperate. I wonder what made him think she, of all people, could save him. Maybe she reminded him of his mother.

Damn she’s compelling to watch.

Oh yeah, Ana sent the rabbit to Storybrooke to bring Will to Wonderland. I see your plan, girl.

Will: “Well, basically, we could die, or we could run.” Reminds me of when Rachel says in S Club’s LA 7: “We can either sit here in the spooky woods for hours and die, or we could go for a walk in the spooky woods for hours and.... die.”

Love how there’s huge-ass mushrooms in the forest. Very wonderland.

Aww, Alice is worried about Will playing decoy.

Of course wish bones are magical haha.

The Red Queen and Will together again! It must be so difficult for him to interact with her like this when he knows she’s putting on an act. She’s not his Ana anymore.

How did Amara become so evil? I know she was desperate and was willing to do anything to get back what she lost but I wonder why she felt she needed to make everyone afraid of her in the process.  

I think it’s so cool she has a fascination with serpents. She’s really obsessed with them lol. Amara: “When they need to, they shed their skin and are reborn.”

She encouraged him to give into darkness. He trusted her. It’s implied she practically raised him. She basically manipulated him for her own gain. Praised him in questionable ways when he obeyed her heinous instructions. She was they only source of love and validation in his life for most of his upbringing and she twisted it. And then, he went further than even she had gone. It’s really terrible when you think about it.  

Eww! Please don’t kiss! That’s so gross!! Oh great, looks like they did more than kiss. I’m officially going to be sick.

Marcus Tremaine, you betrayed Anastasia! Not your daughter Anastasia (well, I mean, you kinda did when you didn’t rescue her too). But still!

I wonder why the Marcus Tremaine!Tweedle started helping Jafar and betraying the Red Queen. Maybe she treated him badly.

Oh, Ana thinks Alice is Will’s girlfriend?

Will: “She’s not my girlfriend. I’m clearly not attracted to nice, normal women.”

He just can’t believe she’s acting like this. The fact that she’s putting on an accent, even when it’s just them two in the room is hilarious.

Why does Lizard look a little like Velma from the live action Scooby Doo movies to me? Lol.

Stop kissing! I beg of you!

Amara to Jafar: “No one has ever loved you like I do.” I beg of you, stop! Why is she like this?? You practically raised him, please stop!

Oh, Jafar has two of the lamps! Uh oh.

Genie’s can bleed. But are they immortal? I’m guessing they just have longevity. Yeah. Alice thought Cyrus was dead, so I guess they can die.

Oh, Will took Lizard in. That was nice of him. Was that in Wonderland or the EF?

Alice is so curious about Anastasia haha.

Ana’s desperate to get Will to safety. She’s not even pretending now.

Alice, politely: “Excuse me. Pardon me.” *Ching* “I have a blade!” Love her lol. Actual chaotic neutral.

That guy who’s got one of the lamps looks like that one guy from The Black Swan. Great movie btw! Forever one of my favourites.

My dude, just wish that no one can ever harm you or for impenetrable skin or something!  Then Jafar can’t hurt you!  

Oh my God Jafar is so freaking cruel!! The way he stabs one of the guy’s hands with all his might and twists the knife and then goes onto the other. Merciless.

It was a good thing to wish Jafar could do him no harm, but he should have wished that no one could.  

Uh oh. Shouldn’t have called him a bastard. That is, like, the worst thing you can call Jafar.

I like Amara’s theme music. It’s very enchanting.

Ana, do something! I think she was counting on Alice to save him or for her to change the laws of magic and fix everything afterwards.

Alice and Will being thrown high in the air, over a castle wall by a catapult! I love how absurd this show is at times.

They saved him, bless them.

Flying lizard!

Hey! Don’t throttle Will! Noooo!

Alice: “I wish if the Knave of Hearts dies then I die.” Alice you are an absolute sweetie and I love that you care so much for Will that you’d risk death for him but my God that is not a brilliant wish. Girl, you do realise, that if he dies of, like, an illness in the future, then you die too?? I mean, I think it’s really cool and it greatly increases the stakes, but she should have wished that no one could ever harm him and her and Cyrus for that matter. I guess that would be three wishes but then, given the circumstances she should have wished no one could harm Will. But then, that would have significantly decreased the stakes. It’s just what I would have done.  

Ow! That looks so freaking painful!! Let go of Alice! Jafar’s so damn ruthless!

God, poor Alice.

Oh my God. He was, like, gonna break all of her bones or something!

I’ve said it before, but Jafar has got to be the most formidable villain in the ouat universe. He’s freaking terrifying! He’s the one I’d least like to face.

Omfg! Alice straight up punched The Red Queen in the face lmao! I did not see that coming! I think she did it because she realised she was Anastasia and feels sickened by the way she’s treated Will.

She tried for another punch lol. So chaotic. This is a great Alice episode.

Oh yeah, Alice was a little girl when she first met Anastasia. So, either time moves differently in Wonderland as compared to the Victorian realm or she keeps herself young with magic. But if time in Wonderland moves differently, does it move faster or slower? Hmm. Well, Alice spent most of her time in Wonderland after she met Will. She looked to be a teenager at that meeting. At least 28 years passed in Storybrooke for Will. But Alice is not 28 years older than she was during their last encounter. So, although Storybrooke was frozen in time, time in Wonderland moves quite a bit slower than time in the Land Without magic. It’s hard to say about the Victorian realm though. Her father said it had been a long time since he’d seen Alice and she had aged, so it might be that time moves at the same time for both realms. I think that’s the case. Will was kept young because of the curse, time moves faster in the lwom and Anastasia used magic to stay young. Maybe Ana and Will were in their late teens when Alice was a child.  

Poor Will. I hope he isn’t itchy like that.

I love how we’re introduced to the fact that Alice and Will have 3 wishes between them at the beginning of the show. And as you watch, you just know they’ll be used, and you're screaming for them to use their wishes when things go horribly, but they find a way out. You just don’t know when they’ll be used, and it’s thrilling to watch with that in mind.  

I wouldn’t drink that, Amara.

Oh, he took her magical essence. That’s why the staff is so powerful!

He turned Anara into a snake. She freaking loves snakes! She’s living the dream.

I wonder if she can see and feel as that staff. I wonder if Will can as a statue.

Anastasia stroking Will’s statue and Lizard watching jealously.

Oh! The staff blinked!

Poor Alice is all alone without her big bro, Will!  

Cyrus: “What a wishbone really wants, is no different to what we all want; to be joined to our other half. And if we’re separated, you will do whatever it takes to be together again.” So cool! And such a clever plan, Cyrus!

This rewatch is so awsome! This show makes me feel a way that no other show does and it’s a really good way.

#ouat #once upon a time #ouatiw #once upon a time in wonderland #alice in wonderland #will scarlet #scarlet queen #jafar #ouatiw jafar #ouatiw alice #ouatiw 1x04 #1x04 the serpent #ouatiw the serpent #ouatiw 1x04 the serpent #ouatiw rewatch #ouatiw rewatch 2022 #ouat rewatch #ouat rewatch 2019

[snowy-miko]

[Oneshot] Cursed Love

Characters: Stacy (OC) x Alfons (ikevil) Rating: M Length: 2886 words Warning: mention of drugs, rape, assalt and murder Arthor's note: This is and half-ass attempt in translation, I just ran everything through GG translate and fixed it up a bit for a smoother delivery. Please pardon TvT

Original version in Vietnamese

What is love? Why does it drive people crazy? Honestly, she doesn't know anymore, she only knows that she will be haunted by it for the rest of her life, by a love that is as unattainable as a fantasy.

.

.

.

“She’s holding something, run!”

The children ran frantically, leaving behind a pink-haired girl standing in front of her house, in her hand was the family frying pan, a self-defense "shield" that she had chosen to fend off those malicious pebbles. Realizing that none of them dared to come back, her anger began to subside, at which point she lightly snorted and then quietly returned to the house. Those boys are truly stupid, even if they throw it again, she will not cry.

Since the day her father became seriously ill and passed away, Stacy's life has changed somewhat. Her mother's work seemed to get even busier, her sister rarely had free time because she had to focus on studying, so having to stay home alone became a normal thing to her. She understood that her family was facing difficulties, so she told herself to become strong. She began to learn to be independent, reminding herself to think of others and absolutely, there would be no crying. Only children would cry so easily.

But in the end, there is a limitation to how strong an eight-year-old child could be, and instead there was only a growing feeling of loneliness.

.

“Wow, the bride is really pretty. He is truly blessed.”

She heard the adults whispering to each other, her eyes once again turned to the slender back of the girl striding down the aisle. Ah, so that's what it was, that's exactly what their relationship was like.

Lucas is a young artist, he just moved near her house about half a year ago. She remembered the times when she came home from school and saw him sitting in the front yard drawing, remembered the way he waved to her with a smile like sunshine, and remembered the way he proudly showed off the painting he had just finished. One time, he even noticed and complimented her hairpin that day, saying how cute it was. She wasn’t sure if it was sincere or not, but it still made her feel very happy. It's probably been a long time since someone could make her smile like that.

Yet today, when she looked at him happily standing next to his bride, she just felt numb inside. There's something heavy in her chest, a choking feeling that just won't go away. She should have been happy that a good person like him was able to find the love of his life. She should have done that, instead of wondering if this was what heartbreak feel like.

Could this be love? But how was that possible? She was only fourteen after all.

.

“Didn't I already tell you? I don't like you anymore."

Frustratingly talking to the boy walking next to her, Stacy could only wish if there was a switch to turn off all the sounds out there. She really didn't expect the result to turn out to be this troublesome.

Sixteen years old, what a beautiful age when the first vibrations of love begin to form at schools. She thought that she should be like that too, that her unrequited love with Lucas should come to an end already. So she started taking interest in a classmate, who coincidentally also had feelings for her. This was quickly discovered by their friends, and the two soon became a couple. At that time, she thought that finally, her life would be normal just like others.

Not long after, she realized that she was wrong. Perhaps influenced by novels, she unconsciously expected a romantic love story between the two. But she forgot that a teenage boy wouldn’t have experience in love, and couldn’t deeply understand her somewhat chaotic feelings. She couldn't trust to open her heart to that person, and she couldn't even try to work it out for this love was fleeting and pretentious. If she already realized that this was not love, then what reason does she have to stay?

So she, the one who confessed her feeling first, ended up also being the cold-hearted one and took the initiative to say goodbye.

.

“I guess he finally gave up.”

Checking the recent mails, she suddenly realized that she no longer saw the name Flynn Hammond anywhere. Maybe there was a bit of regrets, but this would be better for the both of them.

After the love affair of her school days ended, that annoying love came back to harass her in a new form. Flynn noticed that she has stopped going to class so he tried to contact her, but in the end he only received the answer that she no longer felt suitable for studying. She couldn't say that she seemed to have gone crazy, that she had been cursed with some kind of strange power. Yet he still understood her suffering, he never dug too deep, and at the same time only shared trivial stories about himself to relieve her of pressure. Perhaps thanks to that, the chaos inside her was able to calm down somewhat.

Then whatever happens will happen. He confessed that he had secretly liked her for a long time. But at that time she didn't want to repeat the same mistake, so the only thing she could do was to refuse. After that, he had mostly stopped coming to see her, only occasional letter deliveries are what’s left. Countless times she asked herself about this unnamed relationship, whether or not she should give him and herself a chance. It's just a pity that by the time she started thinking about choosing courage, he was no longer here. It turned out that his patience could only last for five years.

Maybe, she just doesn't deserve to be with such good people.

.

“Mr. Hood, please…!”

“Stop resisting Stacy, I've been waiting for this day for a long time.”

With her hands pinned to the bed, suddenly all she could do was to suppress her moans when the Baron kissed her neck. She knew that this was wrong, and knew that she should resist, but still her body kept shaking with excitement every time she was touched. There was no way just a little alcohol could make her become like that.

Alexander Hood is a young Baron who just received his title after his father unfortunately passed away. He has a handsome and knowledgeable appearance, and a gentle voice that knows how to say sweet words that make many girls fall in love. Perhaps that's why, even after being drugged and raped, she still foolishly believed that he did it because he really had feelings for her. Besides believing in that fake love, what else can she do to protect herself?

She thought life couldn't get any more miserable, but in just a few months, he had officially got himself a prestigious noble wife. Still he used the excuse of political marriage to continue to have sex with her. When the affair was discovered, he did not hesitate to accuse her of seducing him, opening up a hellish period of time for the poor girl. Instead of getting her fired, the lady of the house forced her to be her personal maid and then freely tortured her, making her bow her head and apologize every day over trivial matters. The climax was when she was humiliated right in front of him, but the treacherous man indifferently ignored her, even acting like she didn't exist. That night, she secretly met him and begged, hoping that at least he still had some humanity left to free her from this place.

“Do you still think you have a chance with me? A slutty maid like you is just a whore that I can still get without having to spend any money.”

He is, perhaps, a demon. She wanted to kill him right then and there, but in the end she could only let him brutally beat her up then left her in the warehouse like a piece of trash with no value. She didn't know how long she had been crying, she only knew that when she woke up, she was no longer herself. With anger burning in her chest, she sneaked into his room when everyone was asleep, used each stab of the cold knife as a farewell, and made him die in silence right next to his equally cruel wife.

.

.

.

Crown is a secret organization operating under the authority of Queen Victoria, which gathers people with fairy curses. The first time she learned about it, Stacy finally understood why her life was so gloomy. At this moment everything seemed to get back to where it belonged, and so she quietly accepted her fate without a single word of complaint.

The curse makes her unable to stop pursuing love, it was so haunting that when Alfons offered a convenient illusion, she immediately indulged in it without any resistance.

“Because I have been taught well, so I, too, can love you plenty.”

Standing in front of "the person she loves", she did not hesitate to express her thoughts. She knew that what Alexander taught her was filthy, but if it could make him happy then she would be more than willing to do it. At that time, she just wanted to love him with all her heart, mind and body, which was a bit unexpected for Alfons. He originally just wanted to use some entertainment to comfort her, didn’t think that he would accidentally learn about how she had been hurt. It's so sad that she, who was once manipulated and treated like a sex toy, still desires love this much.

Then when she finally woke up, she could only resign herself to saying that she was too used to being taken advantage of.

.

“I just want to say that there are a lot of carnivores around here. If you keep being so cute, you might get gobbled up.”

“You shameless man”

Hearing her say that, Alfons just laughed loudly and sat down at the dining table, pretending not to see the hateful look she was sending his way. Surely the person who teased her the most here was Roger, but when it came to him, it was ten times more than that. It's true that you can't judge a book by its cover.

After a few months, her life at Crown gradually stabilized, and thanks to everyone, she could once again feel a new source of life sprouting in her heart. Most of the time everyone was very nice to her, even Roger was able to give appropriate instructions during practice. But it wasn't Will's gentle guidance, nor Liam's extreme kindness, what she remembered most was the reclusive kindness that Alfons had brought. He harassed her but never let her take the blame. He pretended not to care but only when it’s appropriate that he would show up. Not to mention the fact that he always helped Liam satisfy his curiosity, kept an eye on Elbert and kept him company over the years. Looking at those actions, she could hardly believe that he did everything simply for his own convenience.

Then just like that, unconsciously, she tried searching for the image of her imaginary lover that night in him.

.

"Get out"

“Fine then, if I'm not welcomed like that then please pardon me. Remember to rest well, and since your eyes are still not healed, don't cry alright?"

Alfons closed the door behind him, just in time to avoid the pillow she aimed at him. With those words he just said, he knew she would be angry. But to prevent her, and himself, from falling deeper, that was the only way.

It's been a few months since Stacy realized she has feelings for him. She tried to keep her distance and didn't think about pursuing him, all because she was afraid that she would lose the preciousness of the present. She knew there was no point in denying it, but moving forward didn't seem like an available option. All of her relationships so far have not had a happy ending, and he himself carries his own curse, so it's impossible to say whether this will be an exception. Perhaps that's why Elbert said Alfons hates being anyone's special person.

But then all her efforts were ruined by him. He was clearly not an idiot to not notice about her feelings, yet he gave her hope over and over again. Why must he have cared for her like that? Why didn't he wait until tomorrow to meet at the breakfast table instead of visiting her in her room? He had the audacity to bother her, then when asked about it, he continued to deem her an idiot and avoided the question. If that's the case, she would rather he didn't show up at all.

Never had she ever hated his kindness like she did right this moment.

.

"What's wrong? Wouldn't it be better for you if I died?”

“I said stop it!”

She raised her voice, feeling like her heart was starting to bleed again. She came here, worried about his injuries, yet he stubbornly continued this cruel joke of his. If something happened to him, how could she sit still?

"You've already heard about my fate, I'm afraid if you persist, it'll be in vain."

“Then think whatever you want! Because I won't give up on staying true to my own feelings."

Faced with that sarcastic smile, her chest would only burn hotter. He's such a bastard, a shameless, horrible, degenerated nightmare of a man. But it was also him who used that rotten image to save her, to say that because there were bastards like him, she didn't need to feel ashamed of herself. Because of him, she was able to accept and love herself, so there was no way she could easily give up on this love, no matter how evil and cruel he was.

Her curse has turned love into an obsession, the more she can't have it, the more she can't let go. And thanks to it, she now understands what it means to hate out of love.

If fate has planned for it to be like that, why not just live and die with this cursed love for once?

“If you want to die that much, then I will make sure you would die by my hands.”

.

.

.

Early in the morning, Stacy suddenly heard the door to her room open. Even without turning around, she could guess who the culprit was. Maybe it was because last time she took advantage of him going out at night to sneak into his room, so today he decided to take revenge on her. After waiting for a while, she finally felt the edge of the blanket being pulled up and a familiar warmth began to embrace her.

“Welcome home, Al”

“Good morning, my sweet kitten”

True to her name, she snuggled close to his chest like a cat asking to be petted, this time only smelling the faint scent of alcohol somewhere. He also gently stroked her hair, as if trying to lull her to sleep.

“Do you remember the day you threatened to kill me?”

“…? Why would you bring that up?” She looked up at him but again couldn't read the truth behind those eyes.

“Isn't it very convenient for us like this? Sooner or later, I will die at your hands, and then you will forget everything about me, then there will be no need to suffer anymore."

He smiled with amusement, but she knew it was just a cover to hide the painful feelings inside. Fate arranged for him to die without being remembered by anyone, and she would have to kill her love if she did not want to have her life taken away by that love. There had never been any records of people being able to escape the fate of the curse, but she knew everyone had a small hope that they would be an exception. What if what one needs to lift a curse isn't a miracle?

“There is still the opposite case. Furthermore, I can hold my grudge for a long time. If you dare to leave me behind, I will definitely remember it.”

“Aha! She's really so positive that she's stupid."

"I don’t mind being stupid, as long as I have you"

After saying that, she hugged him again, refusing to accept any criticism. She herself couldn't say she wasn't scared, but right now it was still too early to give up. If fate is inherently unfair, then she will find a way to cheat. After all, she no longer fits the image of a holy angel, so why should she worry about being obediently resigned like before?

Then at that moment, she suddenly felt his arms tighten, along with a sigh in her ear.

…

“If you say so, then I have no choice. Go crazy for me as much as possible, and regret it until you die for me."

- End -

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 437

John 1:4

DIVINE ORDER 2: FROM BEGINNING OF CREATION 1

2Ch 29:35 And also the burnt offerings were in abundance, with the fat of the peace offerings and the drink offerings for every burnt offering. AND THE SERVICE OF THE HOUSE OF JEHOVAH WAS SET IN ORDER. MKJV

Again we must look into this: from the very beginning of creation, God started by first creating a mere MASS without Definition, Beauty, Order or Structure.

Everything starts from Nothing and from Chaotic composition!

Gen 1:1-2 In the beginning God created heaven and earth. THE EARTH WAS FORMLESS AND EMPTY, AND DARKNESS COVERED THE DEEP WATER. The Spirit of God was hovering over the water. GW

Every living Creature, Natural or Scientific System, started with no specific structure or form.

Jer 1:5 BEFORE YOU WERE FORMED IN THE BODY OF YOUR MOTHER I had knowledge of you, and before your birth I made you holy; I have given you the work of being a prophet to the nations. BBE

We all have various body parts - internal and external - performing different but supportive roles and functions, while keeping the collective Order of the body.

But from conception within our mothers’ wombs, we were all “grown” and developed from the tiniest microscopic MASS that Biology calls the ZYGOTE.

Ecc 11:5 Just as you do not know the path of the wind, or HOW THE BONES FORM IN THE WOMB OF A PREGNANT WOMAN, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything. NET

The shock [to me] with this baby thing is that the Sperm from the Man has a defined Head and Tail, and the Egg released from the Woman’s ovaries also has a Cell shape and Structure.

After they “Fuse” and are fertilized though, they become this ugly, jagged, chaotic Mass, looking just like the Earth before the SUNLIGHT came.

It’s simply as though God deliberately intends all [New] things to start with FORMLESS & CHAOTIC.

Gen 2:7 Then THE LORD GOD TOOK SOME SOIL FROM THE GROUND AND FORMED A MAN OUT OF IT; he breathed life-giving breath into his nostrils and THE MAN BEGAN TO LIVE. GNB

Have you ever really paused and thought about how God took messy, mushy, soft mud and formed the most astounding network of articulated [miniature] machinery, conjoined and channeled to operate in the most profound mode of consonance and synchronization?

Pardon my vocabulary but please use your own too joo!

Our God is too great in Creation.

Psa 139:13 -14 YOU FORMED MY INNERMOST BEING, SHAPING MY DELICATE INSIDE AND MY INTRICATE OUTSIDE, AND WOVE THEM ALL TOGETHER IN MY MOTHER’S WOMB. I thank you, God, for MAKING ME SO MYSTERIOUSLY COMPLEX! EVERYTHING YOU DO IS MARVELOUSLY BREATHTAKING. It simply AMAZES ME TO THINK ABOUT IT! How thoroughly you know me, Lord! TPT

Our principal focus here is that, as soon as Man received the Breath of life, every single organ and tissue in the body began to function in perfect Rhythmic synchronization and order.

Now Man also had his primary Command to ensure he inputs these concepts in the execution of his Mandate and responsibilities.

How do we know that?

Gen 1:28 God blessed them and said to them, "Have many children. FILL THE EARTH AND TAKE CONTROL OF IT. RULE OVER THE FISH IN THE SEA AND THE BIRDS IN THE AIR. RULE OVER EVERY LIVING THING THAT MOVES ON THE EARTH." ERV

To have Dominion or bear Rule and subdue, also means to keep everything under him in perfect working order and control, doing exactly what they are supposed to be doing, in order to keep the earth conducive for full productivity.

Gen 2:15 And the Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden TO DO WORK IN IT AND TAKE CARE OF IT. BBE

May the good Lord open our eyes to see the ORDER of our various Mandates, IN JESUS NAME.

Come back on Wednesday, as we proceed in digging into this inspiring Sub-Subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Monday, November 27, 2023

08055125517; 08023904307

[kozukenkitten]

Howdy, I'd like a matchup for the arcana if you're doing those :)

I’m Callie, a pansexual 5’5 Cis female with dirty blonde hair, freckles, and blue green eyes. I’m an INFP-T, gemini, and Hufflepuff. I have Aspberger’s syndrome and adhd which causes me to be somewhat socially awkward even though I like attention and act confident. I’m easily distracted and tend to start projects I easily lose motivation for. I also hyperfixate on a different topic every week (especially entomology, mythology, and zoology) and all I want to do is analyze everything about said topic, this past week was moths. I absolutely adore animals and bugs (especially the creepy crawlies) and I have a tendency to hoard pets, everything from dogs and cats to snakes and tarantulas. Also might be getting a wildlife rehabbing permit soon, fingers crossed. I practice suomenusko which combines Finnish tradition and culture with pagan beliefs. My patron god is Loki and I’m hoping to start working with Hecate soon. My hobbies include writing, drawing, crocheting, and electric guitar. When I become overstimulated, I stim, and I have two types of stimming: happy stimming which includes flapping my hands and running around and angry stimming which includes biting my hands and pulling my hair out. I’m a bit chaotic and impulsive and I love making people laugh. I have a very odd sense of humor which is utterly destroyed by modern day memes (I couldn’t stop laughing over a bass boosted picture of a toothbrush once). I also procrastinate. Like a lot. And occasionally I have depressive episodes where I lose motivation to do literally anything. My clothing style consists of a mixture between traditional Celtic and cottagecore; I like dresses and braids. I am not afraid to call anybody out on their bullshit, which gets me in trouble sometimes lol. A witch! It all started when I began collecting crystals :). I can be loud and excitable but I usually only show this side of me to people I know won’t judge me for it. My love language is definitely physical touch and gifts. I love making stuff for people and I’m touch starved lol. I’m definitely a hoarder, I’ve got so much stuff, blame it on my goblin tendencies. I love collecting stuff from nature such as bones, feathers, rocks, bugs, and plants. I’m also a bit of a forager, chicken of the woods is my favorite mushroom! I… don’t particularly enjoy children. They just have no boundaries :/. I probably will never be able to fully deal with children because of my disorders, but I have four nephews and being a cool aunt is enough for me. Besides, my animals are basically my kids anyways, I absolutely dote on them and they’re my pride and joy.

Hello lovely! I'm so sorry I'm just now getting to this! Life has been wild, and I just opened tumblr up for the first time in AGES. T.T

My first immediate instinct is to say I'd match you with Julian! I can picture you two together, earning a reputation as an insanely charismatic gremlin duo. You and he would get along so well, and I can see him keeping up with your boundless thoughts very well, and vice versa. You both tend to shy away at first from others, but when given the time to blossom and come out of your shell (if you'll pardon the mixed plant and animal metaphors, lol), you'll find so many mutual interests that you won't know where to start!

If you don't think this man's gonna be right there with you, foraging mushrooms and collecting interesting rocks, feathers, bones, etc. you're wrong. And I think he's relatively ambivalent about whether he wants kids, like, he's open to it, but absolutely doesn't need them, and to some extent, genuinely believes it'd be better if he never had any at all, so he wouldn't be bothered if he never had any. He would 100% adore doting on your nieces and nephews, though, and would be the best proud uncle!

This man's like a crow, and he will court you like one: he will bring you all of the shinies, and surprise you by leaving little trinkets and rocks, crystals, feathers, all sorts of goodies, around the house for you to discover. He will also happily listen to you talk about your hyperfixations for hours, especially if you're willing to return the favor.

[digital-roots]

could u explain the henry stickmin collection in detail, please?

I always answer these after hours of doing other stuff huh

Well anyways: (long post, cant seem to put a read more rn will edit later)

The Henry Stickmin Collection is a series of games that were all made with Flash and have been remastered (with the exception of Completing the Mission, which is exclusive to THSC). They all follow the journey of Henry Stickmin, an amateur thief who attempts to rob a bank, but ends up getting caught and sent to prison. From there, you are able to make choices for him, providing him with items that range from technical gadgets to video game references. With the exception of Breaking the Bank which acts more as a prologue to the entire story, every game has multiple endings based on your choices.

There are usually 3 ways to categorize each of the endings. There is The Sneaky way, in which Henry does the mission with few to none people actually noticing his deeds, The Agressive way, where he does the exact opposite and does it mostly with brute force and even killing others, and The Chaotic way, which is like the Agressive option, but Henry usually creates chaos and casualities through 3rd party intervenings instead of directly causing them.

Escaping the Prison and Stealing the Diamond are both simple enough. Whether you do it the sneaky, agressive, or chaotic way (although there really isn't a "chaotic" way in EtP), Henry always escapes to steal the diamond.

Infiltrating the Airship is where things get a bit more bigger. Here is where the Toppat Clan are introduced. The Toppat Clan is a big and secretive crimimal organization where each member wears a top hat. The Government (also a main faction in the series) kidnaps Henry at the start of the game where they offer to pardon all of his crimes if he manages to take down the Toppats in their main base, The Airship. From here things split more and the endings aren't as similar to each other than before. Depending on what the player's pick, Henry can either take down the Toppats (whether alone or with Charles, a goverment pilot and one of the main characters in the games), join them and become their leader, or ignore both factions and instead go after the Toppat's ruby in their vault.

Fleeing the Complex is similar to how ItA works as well. After the events of ItA, Henry will end up at The Wall, a massive prison in Canada, run by the cold and ruthless Dmitri Petrov. He also ends up waiting in a cell with someone else, a woman named Ellie. Again, he has mutiple options at the start. One is to rush out of the prison by himself, while Dmitri personally hunts him down. Another is to get help from Ellie to escape, and either help her too or abandon her. The last two depend on your choices from ItA. After getting inside a room with a cellphone, you can either get help from the Goverment or the Toppat Clan. No matter what however, you always end up escaping the complex (in one way or another).

The last game in the series is Complete the Mission. At the very start, you get to pick what ending you get at the start by combining the endings from ItA and FtC together. Ok I'm going to be real honest rn I don't know why this ask became so informational and serious and at this point i have no more energy to keep that up so I'll just say a few more things

Each game lets you right click on minor characters to get their bio cards. Its really fun to try to get all of them since theres like over 400 bios, 75% of them being extremely minor characters. Realy goes to show how Puffballs (the person who made the game) put in lots of effort for the little details

It's stupidly funny (/pos) most of the time. I just really cant get over how amazing the comedic timing is

One of the core aspects of THSC are the fails. There's so many ways to fail in the games and they're usually so fucking funny

I didnt get to talk abt this because I was only goimg over the main points but like. GOD I fucking love the toppat leader, Reginald, so fucking much he is such a rat bastard and I care so much abt him. Do you know who else I care about? His Right Hand Man, who doesnt have a name but is so goddamn badass and great. You know who else I care about? So many other characters I didnt talk about because theyre not that important into giving a summary for.

Like I said before, the games are so fucking funny, they have impeccable comedic timing

Um Im very tired so basically thank you for reading my half synopsis half recommendation of henry stickmin teehee

#i put more effort into this than school essays #thsc #anonask #a-maize-ing post

[yn-ymn-yln]

Can i request a klaus mikaelson x reader where the reader is in hayleys place… a pregnant wolf but in the end klaus and her fall in love?

Okay lovie I got pretty carried away with this so it's kinda long... but thank you for the request! I hope you like it!

Clarification

Klaus Mikaelson x reader

*I didn't want to copy the show verbatim so I basically made this completely different from what happens to Hayley I hope that's okay!*

“Nik I’m sorry I didn’t mean it!”

“LIAR!” The pain in his voice has you recoiling. How had things gotten so fucked up?

“I swear, I love you! Please stop!” The hybrid’s furious gaze turns to your father who challenges him for what you all know is the last time.

“STOP IT! PLEASE!” Your father’s corpse drops unceremoniously to the ground within seconds. You can’t take your eyes off of the man that had raised you, tears slipping down your face.

“Remember this day Y/f/n Y/l/n. This is what happens when you betray the original hybrid.”

Three years ago, to the day Klaus Mikaelson had slaughtered every remaining blood relative of your pack right before your eyes, leaving you the sole survivor of his man-made massacre.

Standing at the entrance to the compound you hoped today would go smoother than that day had all those years ago.

Klaus didn’t speak after you’d said your piece. Letting the shared history between the two of you cloud his judgement he’s on you in a second. His hand is wrapped around your throat, pinning you to the wall before you even have the chance to react. Instantly your own hands fly to his wrists pulling harshly to try and free yourself and continue the conversation without conflict.

Klaus doesn’t let up though. His grip gets tighter with each passing second. As his eyes begin to glow, the veins beneath them appear in a show of dominance.

Problem was, you were never one to back down from a challenge.

Growling lowly, you refuse to submit to the hybrid before you. With all rational thoughts out the window you sink your teeth into the arm of the man holding you. His unrelenting choke hold falters offering you your only chance to slip free. You push past him and take shelter behind his oldest living brother.

“Please do tell, what exactly is going on here?” Ever the noble gentleman, Elijah tries to diffuse the rather abrupt display of aggression.

“I’m pregnant.” The words fall past your lips without warning. Elijah didn’t know who you were, none of the Mikaelson’s did except for Klaus.

“Pardon?” Turning towards you, you can already see the look of disbelief color his features.

“She’s a liar! I’LL KILL HER!” The threat did little to scare you off. If he had really wanted you dead, he would have killed you three years ago when he had the chance.

“I’m not lying and we both fucking know it!” Lunging at you Klaus tries to maneuver around Elijah only to be stopped with a hand to his chest.

“I think that’s quite enough. What is your name?” He addresses the hybrid, then you.

“Y/n.”

“I find it hard to believe a woman I’ve never met harbors the child of my brother.” You chuckle humorlessly then.

“I do know him, have for years. He just doesn’t want you to know that.” Admittedly you had wounded more than Klaus’ pride when things had gone south between the two of you.

“Niklaus?” Elijah gives his younger brother a look that reads don’t fucking try lying to me. He doesn’t offer Elijah an explanation, opting instead to leave the room in a huff.

“I know this isn’t ideal, but I promise it’s his.”

“Very well, make yourself comfortable, we’ll find a witch in the morning.” You don’t ask him to elaborate, you knew they all needed proof, he needed proof. Without a word more you trudge up the stairs, Elijah following closely behind you. “If you’re lying about this, I’ll rip your heart out myself, you have my word.” hastily leaving the room you both had entered, he quietly shuts the door behind him.

There was nothing left to do now but wait.

Klaus Mikaelson should have been the last person you wanted to see. The remaining hatred you had for him should have been simmering but it wasn’t. You had never gotten a proper goodbye from the man that had stolen your heart. Your alcohol fogged mind told you there was no better time for a good bye than right now, and what better way to say it then to fall into the bed of the man you had once loved?

Klaus had eyed you suspiciously, his heart locked behind the walls he had built that fateful day.

You hadn’t even spoken, words had never been your winning feature. You had grabbed him by the collar pressing your lips to his.

It was heaven

He didn’t ask questions, choosing instead to lead you out of the bar hand in hand to the only safe place he knew.

His bed.

The months that had followed had been nothing short of chaotic. The witches of New Orleans had “officially” confirmed that you were in fact carrying the child of Klaus Mikaelson. He had taken the news rather poorly. Disappearing for weeks before finally surfacing at the compound again. Though he had returned, his icy demeanor towards you had stayed ever present. So, you kept as far away from him as you could. Until you didn’t.

You had been passing his study when the door had opened quickly causing you to stumble. You were sure your face was about to become very acquainted with the hardwood floor of the hall way when a pair of strong arms hand wrapped around your waist. You hadn’t meant to grip his wrist desperately, one hand flying to your barely showing baby bump.

“Your alright, I’ve got you.” His sentence was clipped, but that had been the most he had said to you since you stepped foot in the compound all those weeks ago.

“Thank you.” You’re not sure what had possessed you to bury your face in his chest but the warmth and comfort was worth the ire you were about to face. You’re surprised to look up and see him peering at you through confused eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t- It won’t happen again.” You leave before he has the chance to yell.

After your bout of clumsiness Klaus had laid off his harsh temper with you. You were sure it had been Elijah’s doing, probably some speech about stress being bad for the baby, but you didn’t mind. The somewhat calm atmosphere had brightened your mood considerably and gave you the tiniest shred of hope that maybe this wouldn’t be such a nightmare.

“ELIJAH!!!” You had never seen a thousand-year-old vampire move so fast in your life.

“What is it?! What’s wrong?!” His panic laced tone has a sheepish smile spreading on your face before you feel the tiny flutter again. Grabbing the originals hand, you place it on your stomach and wait.

“Come on little bean, you can do it.” The look of utter surprise that spreads across his face as a tiny thump reaches his hand is priceless.

“KLAUS COME HERE!” Elijah doesn’t move his hand, the wonder of human life making his undead heart melt. Klaus rushes into the room in much the same manor, the only difference being the glowing eyes and raised fist.

“Come feel!” You don’t hesitate to place his hand over your ever moving child. Elijah leaves the room then, wanting to give you and the father of said child a moment. “Do you feel it? Feel her?” A small smile spreads across the hybrids face his hand pressing slightly harder to the fading kick.

“I do. It’s amazing.” Silence fell upon the two of you, with it your doubts grew.

“What if I can’t do this?” The vulnerability in your words has Klaus looking at you in shock. He had never seen you so unsure of yourself.

“You can love, you are going to be a great mother.”

“No, I’m not, this baby is screwed and we both know it. Fuck, you can’t even look at me half the time. What kind of a family is she going to have?”

“This family isn’t perfect but it’s hers.” His words do little to comfort the growing fear inside your heart.

“I wish my dad was here.” The sob that rips from your throat is deafening, not for the first time Klaus wishes things had happened differently between the two of you.

“I’m sorry love.” You don’t let him finish, far too hormonal to not hug the father of your bastard kid. Klaus holds you tightly letting you release the built-up emotion, kissing your forehead every so often. “We will get through this, I promise.” Nodding your head, you stay firmly planted against the hybrid’s chest.

You hope he’s right.

Things weren’t perfect between you and Klaus, but with each passing day you saw the tension leave his shoulders and felt your anger slip through the cracks.

You loved him. It was simple, but none of it mattered if he didn’t love you back.

Sitting on the couch watching T.V. you traced patterns onto your stomach, mindlessly humming a melody that lived rent free in your mind. Klaus made his way into the living room, lifting your feet before placing them in his lap.

“What are you watching love?” The nickname had become a staple in the conversations between the two of you as of late.

“I’m not sure, I’m not really paying attention.”

“Why? Are you feeling alright?” Rubbing his hand up and down your leg you watch the man before you. Things had been so corrupt between you both, at one point you were sure you could never go back. Now though? You weren’t sure what to believe.

Nodding lightly, you try to defuse his worry.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Us.” The word hangs heavily in the air.

“What about us?” Inhaling a lengthy breath, you burst the perfect bubble you had been living in.

“I’m in love with you.” Klaus pauses his movement on your leg shifting his gaze to stare into yours.

“What?”

“I know a lot of shit happened between us Nik, and I know you don’t trust me but I love you. I don’t think I ever stopped. I know you might not feel the same” Your sentence is cut short by the hybrids lips connecting with your own.

“I thought I would never hear you say that again.” Closing the gap again, you press your forehead to his.

“We both made mistakes. I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

“I forgave you a long time ago.” At his words you feel the moisture begin to pool in the corner of your eyes.

“Me too.”

The love you and the hybrid shared had never faded, you both just needed a little clarification to see it.

#klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #the originals #requests

[fiora-miriel]

Thinking about the magic system - pardon me the small sciences - of the Grishaverse once again

I haven't read far enough to the complete collapse of the orders, even though it annoyed me in the og Shadow and Bone trilogy already. because of how effortless it was

Some of it makes sense? Just in my opinion not the way LB wrote it. Because her magic system feels very chaotic and maybe not really thought through. And she uses that "everyone can do everything of their order" as a very convienent plot device. How to solve problem x? - Well just use magic. (And sorry if you've ever delved into developing a magic system for a book etc, that is exactly what you should NOT do)

What am I saying? well basically I think the complete merger of powers as we see later in the grishaverse is just pure chaos and not worth it. But the strict order that is established - very loosely - at the beginning is also not it. For Corporalki and Materialki whose abilities are all based on the same thing, it makes imo more sense to see the sub categories as specialization and not strict "one can only do x"-.

It says e.g. that Corporalki train together for 2 years before splitting off into their specialities. It makes sense that they split up at some point, but why so early? How long is the education period at the LP anyway

Aren't children - if we assume the ideal moment - coming to the Little Palace at like 9 or 10ish? And then we can maybe assume that they become soliders in the Second Army with 17/18ish? So give or take 8 years of training. Why then 6 years of specialization. Not to be rude, but the way LB describe sit, it doesn't sound too complex and too different from each other?

But let's dive into it:

Etheralki

In my opinion here it makes the least sense for that merging of all three sub orders.

Squallers, Inferni and Tidemakers stay very much in line with the four elements that exist in Western culture and then base their manipulation on that. Ther eis not much overlap between the elements as such, so I think here the seperation makes sense.

(Are there any "Earthquakers" or some Grisha who could move the soil or would that fall under Materialki? Would totally read a fanfic with that.)

Materialki

Their power focuses on materials and their manipulation. Why the division between poisons/blasting powders and Grisha steel, corecloth, textiles and glass?

Here I think we can definitely always have overlap. Some might have more talent for one or the other , but IMO it makes absolute sense that someone of that order has a general afffinity to all materials. And then being Durast or Alkemi is basically just a specialization because that is what they can do vetter.

(Depening on the number of elements, depending on where we are on the planet, the materialki can but do not have to incorporate also the elements - metal as in the chinese belief)

Corporalki

Heartrender and healers, with a specialty of tailor. Basically it is the same principle: Manipuilating the human body

Like with the Materialki, I would argue that these powers are very closely related. It all comes down to the same thiing just in different ways. But once again it comes down to specialization and maybe natural affinity.

Genya had shown strong inclinations for manipulation the outer appearance early one. Which means it came easy to her.

Maybe it comes easy to a healer to soothe or for a heartrender to crush a heart.

But generally, I do not see why being part of the Materialki order means that being specialized in one thing, doesn't mean you cannot do - a bit - of the other things. And logically it would maybe make sense. Healers slowing a patients heart because they are panicking or heartrenders being able to heal a bit becaus ethey see a lot of battle at it is useful.

Conclusion

That magic system first in it's strictness, then in it's chaos is bs.

I think in the Corporalki and Materialki order it is better to see the specializations as a natural affinity and not as absolutes, with people being able to a bit more than just what it says on the lable.

For the Etheralki it makes a bit more sense that they are seperated, and there is no overlap, because while they all manipulate elements, there is no common thing amongst fire, water and air.

Someone please write me a Hogwarts-esque version of Grishapowers and how the powers are honed at the Little Palace.

#my headcanon #grishaverse #grishaverse meta #grishaanalytical #grishaanalyticalcritical

[assortedvillainvault]

1, 2 and 3 from the fandom ask about Disney Villains?

Pardon my lateness on this I know I said I was in an ask mood but my brain said no and needed a week to reboot.

1. Which character do you relate to the most from your fandom?

Ok so as much as I would like to say Maleficent, maintaining that poise and bitterness sounds absolutely exhausting and I seriously cannot relate to that. On a day to day level I'm probably relating far more to Mim - for the ability to sit in my house forever, going hilariously mad and murderizing my houseplants. Occasionally I will have Opinions on things and make that a problem for other people, which is also fun, and I'm 90% certain I've made every expression she has, which is neat.

Honestly if I don't grow old and become a cackling recluse I probably will have missed my calling, so, yeah, definitely Mim.

2. which character do you look the most like?

...There shall be no face reveal.

Uh, honestly I'm not sure tho? I'm white, got glasses, average size and have brown hair. Not many villainesses fit this bill they're too busy being fabulous!

3. what is your favorite ship?

YOOOOUUUUU CAN'T DO THIIIISSSSSSS

*ahem* Short of cheating and saying the entire villain wide polycule I've got an the backburner at all times? I've got a few ships that make me pretty darn happy:

Maleficent/The Horned King. The medieval gothic powerhouse couple of my heart. 'Ours is a Mutual Rule' still has me screaming, thank you @ahouseofvillains for feeding my soul~

Hades/Jafar. Bureaucracy couple, lawful evil edging into chaotic - as soon as they get their self inflicted paperwork done. (Honestly I actually think they both run their respective kingdom's very smoothly, they're chronic wokaholics. Hell, Hades even canonically has workers unions in the underworld!)

No other ships immediately spring to mind except Hook/a good shower and a nap. Give this man a holiday someone. Please.

#Thank you so much for the ask! so sorry for the delay #between work school and family engagements my brain has been tired #Thalassa responds #asks #disney villains #ask game