#draganchitsa

Bless you, fandom. @kylorenvevo & @draganchitsa

We're one of a kind No category Too many years Lost in his story We're free to take Our crowning glory

We’re Six.

Listen to my playlist inspired by SIX and its Queens, our crowning glory, here on 8tracks.

She walked fast, to keep ahead of her fear, and it felt as though Syrio Forel walked beside her, and Yoren, and Jaqen H'ghar, and Jon Snow. 

“I couldn’t have gotten that!” Rey shouted above the carnage as Kylo finished dismantaling the First Order remnant droid. “You’re gonna get yourself hurt.”

“I’m your husband. It’s my job.”  

Rey scoffed as she ducked under the tree and avoided the shower of sparks the droids sent their way. Rey hissed as a few stray burned against her skin. 

The sentry droids screeched through the trees, their infra-red scanners honing on Rey, she reached out in the Force and crunched one against a tree.

“Yeah, well, you’re doing really good at your job!” she called back as they split up, forcing the last droid to pick between the two of them.

A snarl was his only reply, but she felt him laugh in her mind. Ben Solo never really was able to fully shed his past. It would be impossible -- unwise -- to simply divorce that part of him. He was his past, his present, his future and everyday he woke and Rey watched him face the day with the combination of it all.

Here in an ambush it was more evidently seen.

There was always a part of him that was Kylo and that part always came out in a fight and he never ran down. Or at least, he was still learning. It was that curl of his lip as he pointed his saber in the direction of his opponent; it was the way his hair fell in his eyes like a stallion waiting to strike; the way his skin looked under the light of his saber.

Rey smiled as he caught up with her and they stood, back to back as they waited for the droid. 

They were a matched pair, the two of them. A newly forged Jedi and the remade blade turned back on the masters that broke him down. 

“Your job is to not die,” Rey stated and Ben smiled. 

Taking a page out of your book. I needed happy. Porgs were the answer.

With its webbed foot braced against the scaled flesh, the porglet threw back its head for added momentum before crashing its furred snout against the fish. It didn’t even. . .make an indent.

Rey rested her arms on the circular table, propping her chin on them to observe and coach the tiny creature through its first non-regurgitated meal. “I think you’ve got to adjust the angle more,” she suggested, smiling with encouragment.

“It’s still too small,” Ben remarked. He was leaning against the archway, arms crossed as he watched the proceedings.

“Hush,” Rey returned.

The porglet turned to her as Ben’s continued doubt trickled through the Force, eyes wide and glistening; Rey wasn’t entirely sure, but she had a feeling that porgs could feel the cosmic vibrations just as surely as she did. She counteracted Ben’s negativity with love, stroking the porglet’s back and patting its head with a gentle finger.

“Don’t listen to him,” she whispered. “I believe in you.”

Her words were acknowledged by a cooing sound before the creature returned its attention to the small fish Chewie had brought aboard. Ever since Ahch-To, the Wookiee had taken on the extra duty of making sure the porgs inhabiting the Falcon maintained a proper coastal diet.

“Rey--” Ben began again, but she silenced him with a scathing glance. He sighed, moving to sit at the table across from them.

The porglet flapped its small wings quickly, excited and bolstered by the additional audience; it seemed to have forgotten, already, that Ben wasn’t convinced this would work. Then, the porglet opened its mouth as wide as it could and rammed its teeth into the fish’s side. For several moments it appeared stuck, unable to close its jaw or draw back.

“You’ve got it.”

Rey’s eyes darted up to Ben’s at the unexpected words. He smiled at her and earned a grin in return. It never failed to make Rey’s heart soar when he joined her side of an issue--even one as simple as this.

The porglet made a noise that was part growl, part shriek. In another breath, it tore a shred of flesh from the fish, falling back against Rey’s arms with the force of its pull. She beamed, scooping the tiny creature up in her hands and holding it up in victory.

By the time Rey steps outside her office building into the chill November air, the sky is already getting lighter, the sun’s earliest rays just beginning to crest the horizon. 

She sighs.

Another all-nighter.

This time, though, it was worth it.

When Leia Organa realized Empire Industries was the one behind the poisoned water supply Rey’s boss had had no choice, really, but to mobilize her associates and spring into action.

It had taken Rey most of the night, but the complaint she just finished is airtight. The CEO of Empire Industries is going to wake up this morning to a lawsuit filed in all fifty states, and the biggest legal nightmare he’s ever had.

Rey is about to descend the stairs to her train station when someone comes up from behind and stops her, touching her arm.

She can already tell who it is – just by the rich cologne she smells in the air, and the confident snicker she hears – before she even turns around.