Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

yol-ande asked: Oh oh oh, I saw you ship Damerons, could you write something ridiculously fluffy with Finn being badass, while Rey and Poe are all starry-eyed over it? This fandom needs more Finn love. (And I need all of the fluff)

Okay I’m so sorry for the delay but HERE.  Also, bear with me, there is in fact some fluff here, but this kind of turned into a crash course in my favorite tropes, so the fluff is…at the end. We’ve got dramatic rescues!  We’ve got canon references!  We’ve got hurt/comfort after interrogation!  We’ve got the Damerons being stupid in love with each other!  We’ve got Rey being deadly as fuck even severely compromised!  We’ve got Finn the patron saint of revolution!  We’ve got disguises and drugs and sweary droids!  And eventually we’ve got fluff.  Also this is like…twelve pages, pushing 6K, I have no excuse.  I’ve also decided that Shinedown’s Cut The Cord is the new theme song for the Stormtrooper revolution.

Poe wasn’t sure how long they had been there—definitely days, but probably not more than a dozen. Probably.  It was hard to tell, with irregular ration schedules, and there were no other prisoners in their dark cell to ask.  The brig was far from the hull of the vast First Order battlecruiser, too, and although the impenetrable black wouldn’t have helped with timekeeping, he wished they could at least see the stars.

They didn’t seem interested in him, but they had taken Rey from him three times since they were first captured—all his injuries were from trying to keep them from taking her, against her direct orders.  The first time, she had walked, as graceful and serene as a dead moon, between the Stormtroopers.  She had been weak with the cuffs on her wrists, cutting her off from the Force, clean and crisp as a lightsaber slash, but she was strong.  They had returned her to him bruised and exhausted, wilted with it, and she had bared all her teeth at him proudly and snarled that they would never get answers out of her.  

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Shattered Glass and Sandstorms

An AU with Rey as part of the First Order, based on this photoset by the immensely talented @greyjoyss.  In case you were curious, this is why I ask for short prompts, because this is SUPER LONG and got WILDLY OUT OF HAND.  Crossposted to my AO3 here.

She isn’t a Skywalker—or maybe she is.  She can’t remember, so does it matter?  She is herself.

Her mothers scream when she’s born.  Her human mother screams in effort and pain. The other screams in ecstasy, and somewhere in the galaxy the last Jedi’s flesh-and-blood hand shakes as the Force writhes with the birth of a new sun.  To the eyes of the minimally Force-sensitive nurse, the baby girl is wreathed in starlight, her wide and tearless eyes wandering over things unseen.

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thesallowbeldam asked: If you're still doing prompts? Cry-lo Ren travels to Korriban (for whatever reason) and takes shelter in a Sith tomb. The spirits of the dead take this fantastic opportunity to rip this pathetic immitator a new. I'm talking Com. Plete. Savage. Bollocking. (that means a lecture btw)

My buddy, my pal, it’s safe to assume that I’m ALWAYS taking prompts.  (I might get to the point where I’m busy enough that it might take me a while to fill them, but I’m always taking prompts.)  Now, I’ll admit that I’m not super well versed in Sith history, and the Sith Lord I’m most familiar with is…well, Vader, who failed to die a Sith Lord and didn’t get entombed on Korriban.  I’ve always kind of liked the mental image of Darth Sidious being disappointed in Kylo, though, so yeah.  Also, I don’t know what happened to Palpatine’s ghost and it appears that neither does anyone else, so we’re going to handwave some stuff because Force.

Personal shuttle crashes are, generally speaking, remarkably easy to survive.  Battlestars or cruisers are bulky and built to survive damage in the black, but a planet-side crash turns them into an avalanche of wreckage.  Fighters, small and quick and light, shatter like glass more often than not, and even when they don’t, their mostly-engine structure doesn’t play well with the heat of a crash.  A personal shuttle, though, is small and sturdy and designed to survive an emergency landing, even if the emergency in question is ‘falling out of the sky.’

“Engines do not just kriffing fail,” Kylo Ren hissed as he pulled himself out of his shuttle and trying to adjust to the heavier gravity.  He snarled a string of curses in a handful of languages, giving a sharp kick to the hull and repressing a grimace of pain.  Snoke would be furious if he missed his ordered arrival time, no matter how good his explanation was, and Kylo felt a shudder down his spine.  He refused to admit that it might be fear.  “There isn’t even anything wrong with this piece of bantha shit,” he shouted, thumping it with a fist.  He raked a gloved hand through his hair—the helmet was still inside the shuttle somewhere—and stared around him at the valley he’d wrecked in.

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hollandlolland asked: Prompt: Finn/Poe taking Rey to a green planet bc she loves that shit but they're not flora/fauna experts so when she starts trying weird stuff (running through the bush, trying to figure out what's edible, etc) they don't know what to do

Yes, absolutely, Rey on green planets is my new favorite thing.  Also, if you didn’t expect this to be pre-OT3, you should have.  Also, this is my first time writing these three, so be gentle with me.

“Oh, Force,” Rey breathed, turning on her heel, neck craned back and mouth open in delight.  The trees towered over the Falcon, the sunlight filtering green-gold through the leaves and dappling the ship and its passengers in faint shadows.  Poe watched her spin, her arms out and her head thrown back, and tried not to think too much.  “Look at them!  How do they get so big without falling over?” she asked, looking at Poe with wide, curious eyes.  

He grinned, hands stuffed in the pockets of his new jacket–he’d gotten his old one repaired while Finn was in a coma, and the swathe of red material replacing the lightsaber damage had made the ex-Trooper beam at him.  “Hey, I’m a flyboy, not a botanist.  I don’t pay attention to trees unless they’re in my way.”

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