( ✨ i loved you / dameron & frightened eyes )

[frightened eyes]

”he’s gone.” he hisses, lips curling in a snarl. he steps closer to him then, his hands reaching up to carefully unlatch his mask, pulling it down to tuck it underneath his arm. his face is hard with anger, lips snarling. ”the kid you knew is gone.” with every growled word he steps closer until he’s close enough to feel the pilot’s breath on his lips. ”and he is never, ever, coming back. no matter how hard you try.” his free hand lashes out, wrapping around poe’s chin and forcing him to look at him.

”this, this is who i am. a monster? fine. but i am more powerful then ben ever was and will be.” he releases his chin to grip his jaw, leaning close enough their mouths were inches apart. ”and you’re lucky i’m letting you live another day.” his lips are set into a firm smirk, the corners of his mouth tight with cruelty, before he moves back, drawing his hand back from poe’s jaw.

”it wasn’t just some rogue padawan who burned the temple and slaughtered the others. that kind of destruction was created by me—or, before me, your beloved ben solo. enjoy your every breath while it lasts, pilot. we have some unfinished business that we need to finish.” he straightens, stepping away from him before he pulls on his mask again. he smooths his hands over his uniform, straightening it, before stalking or, the door opening and closing with muted hisses.

[danheng]

with one swift movement, ren removed his mask, revealing a face that was both so far away and so familiar all at once. features poe hadn't seen in a long time, and just the sight of ben's face was enough to knock poe off of his game. he was quiet, staring in shock as ren paced forward, and then gripped poe's chin just as the pilot tried to turn his head; and their gaze locked.

"that's not- ben-" he could feel tears stinging at his eyes but didn't try to keep them astray. the touch felt wrong. this didn't feel like his ben, but he knew somewhere it was. he drew back and poe felt a confusing mix of loss and longing. a silent plea cried out in his mind, echoing around like a lost memory.

his lips parted, trying to speak but no words could amount to the emotion that consumed him. a tear streak across his grimed and bloody skin, splashing onto the tanned leather of his jacket. but you're here- how are you here, why are you leaving why-

he was helplessly silent as ren straightened, obscured his expression again, and stalked back to the door. he felt a heavy drop in his chest, like a wall falling between them; cutting him off from reaching wherever ben was inside of that monstrous mask. his determinate nature refused to let him give up- but part of him felt crushed by ren's words.

[frightened eyes]

he stalked down the halls, practically humming with anger, ignoring, blatantly, anyone who parts their lips to speak with him, and ultimately ends up closing the door in general hux’s face to his quarters. he needs a distraction, tense, and restless. so he pulls off the dark helm and unclips his saber from his belt, setting them down upon his desk, moving to pull his gloves off his hands and wrap his knuckles in white tape before he heads down to the training facility, determined to blow off some steam the old fashioned way—with a punching bag. by the time he’s done, he’s panting, sweat dripping down his forehead, and he grabs a towel to wipe off his palms and face before heading back to his quarters. but even after three hours of high intensity training, he can’t find it in him to sleep, at least not yet.

he finds his mind filled with more painful memories, but here in the dark, quiet peace of his room, no one can see his face. eventually he falls asleep from exhaustion, the memory of being curled up with poe in the force tree, just them and the world, printed on his eyelids. and he wakes feeling unsually gloomy, his lips seemingly pulled down in a permanent frown etched onto his mouth before he showers and changes into fresh clothing.

he glances at his mask—the snoutlike breathing apparatus, the slits of metal in the forehead, designed after his grandfather’s. he touches it lightly with his fingertips with a sigh before he pulls it on like every morning. he’s determined, today, to get what he needs about the map—without causing unnecessary problems with the pilot.

his boots strike the ground sharply as he walks to the holding cell where the pilot is being kept, and he passes through the door without a word. his voice is devoid of emotion when he speaks, eyes steady upon the pilot. ”we can either do this the hard way, or the easy way. but i will be taking information about the map.”

[danheng]

he felt insurmountably weak. the restraints seemed less and less of a bother, at least not more than his splitting headache- which he guessed was a side-effect of ren's force tricks that had left him dazed and boundary-less. he'd managed to get a fair amount of rest, as much as one could sitting tilted upright in a dank cell with nothing but your own regrets and pained thoughts to keep you company.

he wanted bb-8 to be here. to say that he'd be alright, and she was going to get them back in one piece. or even a fellow pilot. jess, or snap, to swap bitter remarks and bide time until nothing else posed any chance of getting out. or ben. maybe if he came back, poe could try to sway him again-

but it was foolish and childish. that wasn't his ben anymore. at least, on the outside. underneath that mask, under all the trauma, there was a chance he was still there. once more poe shook his head to himself. no use. he was in no place to sway anyone, let alone a force-user. if anything, he'd be the one spouting resistance secrets by the end of his time on this destroyer.

he was in a delicate sleep, unable really to do so much as dream, when the sound of boots clacking on the cell floor jolted him awake with a start. he didn't know if it was relief or distress when he focused on the figure, recognizing it as kylo ren; here once more. his senses were still slowly awakening, ears ringing slightly and only catching the tail end of ren's menacing threat.

he straightened up as best he could, though from this point he was still at least several inches shorter, and raised his chin boldly. he was an idiot- he knew it- but he was going to go down boldly. "come get it." he didn't falter, and for that he was glad. if he wanted to get out of this alive, he couldn't see the man before him as ben. as much as it hurt. as hollow as he felt.

[frightened eyes]

a look of contempt flashed across his features as he moved forward to press his fingertips against poe’s temple, forcing his way in, prodding at the edges gently at first before breaking through, allowing access to his memories. he flipped through the ones he didn’t need, not letting the ones with ben a part of them phase him as he searched for the map. he met a barrier upon one, and figuring it would give him what he needed, he carefully broke it down before letting the memory open up to him. ah. there it was. it was contained in a droid, a bb unit. he hesitated for a moment before moving back to a memory he had come across earlier.

it was the one in the force tree, ben’s head in poe’s lap the night before he’d left for the temple. one hand was in poe’s, his fingertips tracing the lines of poe’s palm, and poe’s other hand was in his hair. i’ll come back for you. i know you will. but, as it had turned out, he hadn’t. he drew away from the pilot then, lips frowning. ”you have two choices from here. i can get the executioners now. or you can join me in the order. choose wisely, pilot. i won’t ask again.” after a moment, he extended one black gloved hand, palm upward, for him.

he was giving him an option to live. not for ben, no. but his bold nature was to be admired. he could do well, leading a squadron of TIE fighters—and, they needed someone with a good amount of experience. hopefully, his reputation would not fail him. that was, if he chose the wiser option, and joined him. and then, well, eventually he could have the possibility to rule beside him.

[danheng]

as soon as ren's fingertips brushed his temple, poe felt his walls fracturing. he wasn't strong enough to keep his walls up, so he let them fall, focusing all he could on anything but bb-8. as long as her location was safe, the resistance might live a day longer. the pinpricks of pain came back surely enough, poking at all of his barriers, breaking them down piece by piece. and then there it was- clear as day- bb-8, panicked whirrs and beeps lighting the air around them as poe reassured her, giving her the piece, telling her to run. surrounded by the rest of his memories of the little astromech, this one shone the brightest.

there was a momentary stutter in the force that was picking through his mind- something soft, just for a fleeting second, and he found solace in that softness. a feeling he oh so remembered as ben. but then he came back to reality, heart racing, gasping for air as if he hadn't taken a breath in a long while.

"ben..." poe looked from the extended hand, back up to ren's masked features. "don't do this."

[frightened eyes]

ooc: apologies for the shorter post!!

”no. you’re still holding on. let go!” kylo shouts, face controrting wih anger and fury coating his words. there’s anger boiling underneath the surface, his teeth gritted. ”ben is gone. join—join me, and you don’t have to die.” he feels like screaming, like hitting something. he’s still holding on to someone who’s dead, gone, and never ever coming back.

and it’s making him weak, making him soft. but kylo has no wish to go back to the light—he won’t, and he can’t. the dark is where he belongs—where he’s always belonged.

[danheng]

poe flinched at the shout, but tried his best to recover; raising his chin and shaking his head. I don't want to let go, his subconscious practically screamed at him. but provoking ren's anger further could prove potentially fatal or harmful. but if he agreed, maybe there was a way out. he could hear it in his head as clear as day; as if he was in the middle of the command center. leia standing against the holo table, chiding him for a mission he acted too reckless on.

use your head, dameron. ben isn't going to come back to you that easy. but if you don't give in now, he's going to kill you. you're compromised, dameron, get somewhere safe, and rethink your strategy. find a way out from a safer vantage point. you can't be useful when you're hurt.

the echoing pain hit him hard again, even considering lying to ben. no- ren. but it was life or death; ben solo or kylo ren. "a-alright-" poe managed, gaze flicking down, unable to look back up at that glinting mask. "alright..."

[frightened eyes]

his anger had wholly dissipated within a few moments of his words, his shoulders relaxing, though he still felt relatively uneasy. to have him agree was what he’d hoped for—what he’d always hoped for, really. ”years ago,” he spoke after a moment of slight hesitation. ”when the supreme leader came to ben in his dreams at the temple, he showed him a vision. and you were beside him—you were always going to join him. you were always going to join me. and.. i’m glad you did.” he fell silent, and it was quiet for a few moments. ”the supreme leader calls me. i will return.” he speaks, before he reluctantly moves out the room.

“so. the rebel has joined us?” supreme leader snoke speaks as he watches ren, who is on his knees beneath him, raven head bowed. “and you have chosen him from your past, to rule beside you once the resistance is vanquished?”

”yes, supreme leader.”

his meeting with the supreme leader was relatively short, more of a report than anything else, and within no time he was back in the holding cell where commander dameron was being held. he moved forward silently to pull the restraints off of him, fingers brushing the exposed skin of his wrists as he pulls the metal cuffs off of him, which had strapped him down, before he hesitates. ”can i trust you, poe dameron? i’m giving you a chance to start over. to stay.” he stumbled over his words slightly, restraining him from saying that it was a chance for them to start over.

because no doubt, the pilot hates who kylo ren is, what he stands for. there was no “them” anymore, surely. just a mutual agreement.

[danheng]

instantly, seemingly at the drop of a hat, his demeanor shifted. his body language relaxed, breaths through the distortion of the mask seemed to steady for a moment, before he spoke. the words were softer than poe expected, but a quiet that felt unfamiliar. like it shouldn't be there, like this wasn't normal. join him. stand beside him. it made poe want to cry out in protest again, to try to lull ben solo out from under the dark side's claws, but he only stared up at ren, unspeaking, until the knight excused himself, leaving the pilot alone to sit with his thoughts.

what'd he done? painted ren a false sense of success, something that was going to come down and crush the both of them hard if poe tried to go back on his falsidical word. but he didn't have a choice; as much as there was a little spark of hope that if he did stay, that ben would come back to him, he knew that this wasn't right. none of it. nothing felt right- not anymore-

poe caught his breath, slowing down his thoughts. he was panicking, and he needed to cut it off before the anxiety became too much. deep breaths. reflexively, he thought of ben. warm yavin summers, nights spent curled up names the constellations or drawing them over ben's hands- telling him about all the wonderful things he would see as a pilot. this brought him a brief moment of happiness, and he resided in that memory until the door opened once more and he nodded back to reality.

ren approached him, pulling off the restraints- at which he winced at the skin rubbed raw coming into contact with leathered gloves. he pulled back his hands, pulling the cuffs of his sleeves down over the injured skin. "you can always trust me," he responded, looking back up to ren, hoping- desperately- the pain under the facade wouldn't give him away.