Imagine the Star Wars [The Rewrites]

whirlpool. [kylo x reader] (1/2)

word count: 4.1k

warnings: mentions of torture, dark!kylo, and as always pls lmk if i missed anything

a/n: this is a rewrite of the first os i posted here! this was super fun for me to look back and see how much i've improved and how much more i understand the characters now. i hope you guys enjoy it!! :D

You aren't sure what you're supposed to be. A single, isolated X-wing painted in Resistance orange floating through space towards a First Order cruiser...

"Reason with him..." General Organa had asked you. Leia had asked you.

Reason... There is nothing reasonable about this. At any moment you could be blown to pieces, scattered across space. You're sure the only thing keeping you alive is the mass, hysterical confusion that's keeping the officers on the inside from giving the order to shoot. Yet, you press on. You press on because of the pleas of a mother. Someone's mother. His mother. No, you are not Reason.

"It wouldn't be an official mission," she had said. "It wouldn't even go on the books. It's more of a covert operation. You'd be a spy, almost."

Spy. Is that what you are? You've been a spy before. Spies don't fly in the face of those they're spying on. Spies hide to gather information, bring it back to the good guys, and beat the bad guys. Spies have a plan for getting into where they need to go. They have a plan for getting back out again. You are not a spy.

"Even if I could talk to him, he wouldn't listen to me," she had said. "But he might listen to you. You're my last hope of getting through to him."

Hope. Yes, that's what you're supposed to be, but it fits you wrong like a shirt that's too tight across the chest. The title is a constraint; it presses you in. The weight of it is heavier, more crushing than your fear. You are Leia's last hope that Ben will come home - a single, shaky X-wing fighter who is supposed to bring a boy back from the dead. How can you represent hope when you have none of your own?

The radio lights up. "Hold it, Resistance scum," a voice warns. "We have you on your screens now. Identify, or we'll shoot."

They might just do so anyway, you remind yourself. "Diplomatic mission from the Ileenium System," you manage in a wavering voice. "Ambassador transport requesting deactivation of the deflector shields."

Nothing but static. Of course, what did you expect? Any moment now, you'll be blasted into the cold vacuum of space. But a presence is whispering in the back of your mind. It finds the first loose stone in the wall around your mind and latches onto the opening until it's all you can think about.

In a rage, you flick on the radio. "And if Kylo Ren is there," you add. "Tell him that if he doesn't let me in, I'll tattle to his mother about him." But, of course, he's there. There's no one else in the galaxy whose mere presence could inspire the same rage in you. There's no one else whose presence you would feel as potently.

That's why you're not surprised when the disgruntled officer's voice comes over the radio again. "Clearance granted. Land in hangar two in the north quadrant." He sounds disappointed like he had been hoping for a fireworks show.

You confirm and comply. Here it is before you: the moment of truth. You can see as plain as day how it will unfold. You'll tell Ren you're there to win him back, and he'll laugh in your face and run his saber through you. He'll tell himself it was justified. He'll believe he is in the right. It's what you deserved for refusing to join him when he offered it. After all, he'd given you one chance already. If you were lucky and if he was feeling merciful, he might keep you alive long enough to give you a second chance which you would flatly refuse once again. And the Dark Side will pull him in further and further into delusion until there isn't even a memory of who he used to be.