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tfa_kink2016-01-13 02:14 pm
themodawakens) wrote in tfa_kink2016-01-13 02:14 pm
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PROMPT POST #2 - CLOSED
This post is closed to new prompts!
prompt post one
+ All comments except fills should be posted anonymously.
+ All prompts should focus on TFA characters. You can't post OT or PT-only prompts.
+ One prompt per comment please.
+ You can request both kink and non-kink content
+ Crossovers, characters from the other media are allowed, but must relate to the 2015 movie in some way.
+ All prompt comments should begin with a pairing tag (eg Rey/Finn) or Gen for no pairing.
+ Use 'Any' when prompting for any pairing at all (eg Kylo/Any or Any/Any)
+ Anyone, everyone, no one? Use "Other." (e.g. Poe/Other)
+ Warn for common triggers, please
+ NO PROMPTS FEATURING CHARACTERS UNDER 18 IN SEXUAL SITUATIONS.
+ don't hijack other people's prompts.
+ prompts should not exceed ~250 words.
+ also, while this is not really a rule I can enforce, please try to limit yourselves to fewer than 5 prompts per page.
+ reposting prompts is currently not allowed.
+ no prompts based on real life tragic events. e.g: 9/11 au, concentration camp au, etc
+ PLAY NICE
[FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 2/?
(Anonymous) 2016-01-22 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)_________
When Poe turned seventeen, he found out exactly how incomplete Mama’s tale really was.
After Mama died, when he was eight, he put away all the fairytales and fantasies she used to spin for him like wool on a great wheel. He joined the New Republic’s navy and pledged himself to fight alongside General Leia Organa and the New Republic forces. He’d lay his life down for the woman who’d become like a surrogate mother to him. It felt almost as if he were writing his own version of Mama’s fairytale, only he was the warrior and he and the princess were on the same side this time.
When Poe mentioned this to one of his fellow cadets, Temmin Wexley, at mess hall one day, Wexley choked on his rations.
“You? As Princess—I mean, General Organa’s champion? That’s absurd.” Wexley coughed violently and pounded a fist on his chest. His face was almost as red as the stripes on Poe’s leather jacket.
“What’s so absurd about it?” Poe asked, narrowing his eyes at Wexley.
“Don’t you know how that story goes?” Wexley asked, his face returning to its normal coloring.
“My mother used to tell me a version of the fairytale when I was a kid,” Poe said, fiddling with his rations. “Did you grow up with a different take on it?”
“Oh, stars and planets, Dameron,” Wexley said, shaking his head. He smiled, but it was more indulgent than his usual friendly one. “How sheltered a kid were you?”
“I don’t understand. Just spit it out, since you’re obviously dying to tell me as it is,” Poe said.
“It’s pretty much the same story across cultures and species and galaxies,” Wexley began, sounding almost reluctant now, as if he truly didn’t want to be the one to shatter Poe’s childhood memories. “But the gist of it is, when a warrior is saved by his enemy, the warrior must give his life to serving him.”
“I know that, Snap,” Poe cut in impatiently, biting off a chunk of bland protein bar. He forced it down with a sip of water.
“No, when I say serving, I mean serving,” Wexley said. His neck flushed bright red and it crawled up to color the rounds of his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
“I know what you—”
“He means sexually, Dameron.” Jessika Pava joined them at their table and dropped her tray next to Wexley’s. “My culture has a variant of this story too.”
“Actually,” Wexley cut in, lifting a finger and pointing it imperiously at Pava, “the Akivan version is slightly different. The warrior only has to offer comfort and pleasure to his enemy rescuer, but not necessarily sex.”
“In the Dandoran version, it is definitely sex, and lots of it,” Pava said, with a sharp grin in Poe’s direction.
Poe frowned at his half-eaten protein bar. “I guess she—my mother—was just protecting me,” he said finally.
“She did a good job of that,” Pava said, the corners of her smile softening. She reached out and patted a hand over Poe’s.
“Sorry,” Wexley said. “Your mom’s version’s probably better anyway.”
“Yeah,” Poe said, distantly.
_________
General Organa said, “I have a mission for you.”
General Organa said, “I want you to go to Jakku and speak to a man about a map.”
General Organs said, “Leave as soon as you can.”
And so he left.
Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 2/?
(Anonymous) 2016-01-22 10:07 pm (UTC)(link)General Organs. /facepalm/
Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 2/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-02 04:26 am (UTC)(link)[FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 3/?
(Anonymous) 2016-01-22 10:27 pm (UTC)(link)_________
The mission was supposed to be simple. Meet with the contact, Lor San Tekka, retrieve the map, and get back to D’Qar as soon as possible.
Somehow, the First Order had found out about the meeting. Maybe they’d had spies on the ground. Maybe Kylo Ren’s dark Jedi senses started tingling, or Poe had messed up somehow, given himself away. Whatever the case, a deadly-looking fleet of ships had touched down very near—too near—Lor San Tekka’s hut and white-clad stormtroopers piled out with blasters drawn.
Poe managed to leave the map with his astromech, BB-8, and instruct it to get as far away from Tuanul as possible. The droid hadn’t wanted to leave him behind, but Poe was its master; it had no choice but to follow his commands.
After it was gone, Poe grabbed a blaster of his own out of his cockpit and went to work.
He took out one stormtrooper with a perfect killshot to the neck, and moved on to the next one and then the next one. Their white plastoid armor gleamed under the searchlights of their massive black ships, made them very inviting targets.
One of the ’troopers broke away from the remainders of his unit to kneel beside a fallen comrade and Poe smiled grimly to himself, raised his blaster and tightened his finger on the trigger.
Stupid, he thought, separating from the pack like that.
He started to press his finger down.
Something stopped him.
A large ship, larger than any of the others that had descended on the village of Tuanul, lowered itself from the clouds.
Poe lowered his blaster and watched, as if paralyzed, as a ramp descended.
The man who emerged from the bowels of that bird of war was unlike any Poe had seen before, miles tall and clad from head to toe in black. His long cape whipped around him like wings.
Poe had heard of Darth Vader in the stories his mama used to tell him as a boy; this man was no Vader.
Poe kept himself hidden and did nothing but watch.
Everything unfolded as if in a dream. Kylo Ren’s grotesque red lightsaber slashed through the heavy night air—thick with smoke and the cries of the dying—and cut down Lor San Tekka with a single stroke.
Poe leapt out of his hiding space without thinking, raised his blaster and pressed on the trigger. A bright blue bolt streaked out and—suddenly stopped, suspended in mid-air. When Poe tried to fire another shot, he realized he couldn’t move a single muscle. Kylo Ren had frozen Poe and his blaster bolt with his outstretched hand.
Two stormtroopers ran up to Poe and grabbed him, slugged him in the stomach for the fun of it before twisting his arms behind his back and frogmarching him to a waiting Kylo Ren. One of them shoved him onto his knees and Kylo Ren crouched down in front of him.
Poe made some smart remarks—maybe Kylo Ren would be feeling merciful and kill him on the spot, Poe had heard the stories about what he did to his prisoners—but no such luck. After a quick pat-down, Poe was marched onto that ugly black bird with blaster barrels pressing into his back.
_________
Poe came to in an empty black cell. What little light there was made his head throb, then he recalled the hours of torture Kylo Ren had already put him through. The beatings. The threats. He felt something warm and sticky on the side of his face and knew it was his own blood. When he looked down at his left hand, he saw that one of the fingers was blue and swollen and bent in places no fingers should bend. Flying would be difficult.
The only decor was a metal rack of some sort—which Poe was currently strapped down to.
The only other occupant was Kylo Ren.
“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.” Kylo Ren sounded almost amused. “Comfortable?”
Poe lifted his head, ignored the nerve-shattering pain that vibrated from the wound on his skull and down his neck. Met Kylo Ren’s gaze—in a manner of speaking. Poe couldn’t tell if he was looking back through that impassive black mask or not. He didn’t like that he couldn’t see the man’s face.
“Not really.”
“I’m impressed.” Kylo Ren stalked closer, and Poe could see his gloved hands curling into fists at his sides. Poe’s stomach dropped. “No one has been able to get out of you what you did with the map.”
Poe tipped his chin up and spoke with a bravado he didn’t feel. “You might wanna rethink your technique.”
Kylo Ren lifted his arm and opened his fist, reached out to Poe with crooked fingers. Razor-point talons dug into Poe’s brain, tearing at memories and tossing them aside like trash. Poe threw himself back against the rack, tried to get away from the searching, grasping, invading claws, but he was trapped.
Then there were brief flashes, images. Mama in her orange flightsuit, a white helmet tucked under her arm. Papa in the yard, tending to Luke Skywalker’s tree. A memory of Mama’s pale face and cold, limp hands being turned over and examined before being carelessly tossed aside. A funeral pyre. A dark-eyed prince locked away in a shining durasteel tower. A stormtrooper with a bloody handprint on his pristine white mask.
Invisible hands grabbed Poe round the neck and threw him against the rack. Pain cut through the back of his skull now and he closed his eyes against it, as if that would ward it off. It didn’t help.
Get out, get out, get out, he told the claws tearing and slashing through his mind. Get out, get out, get out.
He could feel his strength ebbing, and with it his resistance. Kylo Ren’s claws were digging closer and closer to the truth.
“Where is it?”
Poe summoned the last of his strength. “The Resistance will not be intimidated by you.”
Kylo Ren moved closer until Poe could feel the heat of his gloved hand against his sweat-damp, blood-slick forehead.
The tenuous thread that had been holding Poe together finally snapped.
Poe screamed.
[FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 4/?
(Anonymous) 2016-01-22 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)_________
Poe came back to himself slowly, by degrees. First his vision—blurry, faint—returned, the amorphous blob next to his side resolving itself into the shape of a stormtrooper. Then the sharp, cacophonous sounds and noxious smells of his prison cell assaulted him and Poe tried his level best not to retch. If he threw up he would probably just end up covered in it, and he did not want to be snuffed out of existence with puke on his clothing, thank you very much.
He tugged halfheartedly at the shackles around his wrists and ankles, but they didn’t so much as give. He hadn’t been expecting them to, but it was a nice thought.
Poe sighed and let his eyes shut. The light was too bright, anyway. And it wasn't like he was going anywhere.
The Resistance would not be coming for him. He was a dead man. They’d put his name on a plaque somewhere on D’Qar. Maybe they’d inscribe his name next to his mother’s. Poe smiled to himself; he would like that.
The door to his cell opened and Poe cracked one eye open, half-expecting Kylo Ren. Maybe he’d come to finish him off.
A stormtrooper marched in and turned to the one who’d been instructed to guard Poe.
“Ren wants the prisoner.”
The ’trooper that had been guarding him just shrugged and released the shackles around Poe’s wrists and ankles. Poe glanced up at the other ’trooper and tried–so hard—not to hope. It sat there in his chest, though, like a glowing ember.
After Poe was certain he could walk without assistance, the stormtrooper jabbed a blaster barrel into his chest, grabbed him, and bound his arms. Poe’s stomach sunk again.
Then they were off.
Kylo Ren had gotten the information he wanted. The only reason he’d want him now was either to show off his torture techniques to others or to execute him. Poe honestly wasn’t sure which option he preferred at this point. He didn’t want to die, but death might be merciful.
If it was a quick one.
They rounded a corner and suddenly Poe found himself being shoved into another cell.
“Turn here.”
Poe jumped back, holding up his bound hands in defense, as if that would protect him from a stormtrooper with a blaster intent to do him harm.
“Listen carefully. You do exactly as I say, I can get you out of here.”
Poe shook his head and just stared, uncomprehending. His brain was still foggy, still aching and sore. Out of where?
“What?”
The ’trooper reached up and lifted off his white helmet. His eyes were as wide as the moons of Yavin Prime and his face shone with sweat. Poe realized this young stormtrooper—this young man was as terrified as Poe was.
(He was also beautiful, the most beautiful sight Poe had ever seen, but he shoved those thoughts into a lockbox at the back of his mind, the one place in his mind Kylo Ren hadn’t managed to violate.)
“This is a rescue. I’m helping you escape—”
There was a strange electric sensation—both light and heavy at the same time—that ran through Poe, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.
A tattered memory fluttered to the forefront of his tender, aching mind: Poe and Mama curled up in bed together. Mama stroking his hair. The two of them laughing and chanting the lines of an old fairytale together. Mama lacing their fingers together.
“This is a rescue. I’m helping you escape.”
Poe’s entire world tilted on its axis.
He was the captive prince. This stormtrooper was—
This stormtrooper was still talking. “Can you fly a TIE Fighter?”
[FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 5/?
(Anonymous) 2016-01-22 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)Consider all of this a loooot of set-up for the ~meat~ of the prompt: Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions! :D
(After this part, I'll probably skim over Takodana, their reunion, and Starkiller Base, and go post-canon.)
_________
Poe and the stormtrooper—no—Finn were shot down over the dustball of Jakku, the thrill of victory, escape cruelly short-lived. Turned out Poe probably was going to die today after all, just not on the Finalizer in a military execution like he’d thought.
Poe shoved his sorrow and despair into the lockbox in his mind too, along with those inappropriate thoughts about his rescuer. All those thoughts could wait for now. He couldn’t do much about the warrior’s code while plummeting to his death, anyway.
As they spiraled back to Jakku’s dusty surface, Poe unstrapped himself from his seat.
“What are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Finn yelled at him, twisting around to get a good look at him. “I didn’t bust you out just so you could—”
“Shut up and let me do this.” Poe inched his way over to Finn on unsteady legs and crouched down until they were at eye level.
Finn looked down at Poe warily, fingers digging into the arms of his seat. He looked like he had something he wanted to say, but he held his tongue. The TIE Fighter lurched violently, throwing Poe into a switchboard. He pulled himself up and crawled back over to Finn. If he didn’t do this, he would never be able to live with himself—provided that he survived the crash.
Poe leaned in—felt Finn stiffen as he did—and looped his arms around the kid’s neck, feeling for the straps on the co-pilot’s seat.
“What are you doing?” Finn bit out between gritted teeth.
“There’s a button on the armrest,” Poe said, pulling the straps over Finn’s shoulders, ignoring the question. He was minutely proud of himself for how calm and collected he sounded. “We don’t have much time.”
Poe buckled the straps across Finn’s chest and snapped them against the shiny white armor.
He let himself think about enemy warriors and brave princes and durasteel towers. He thought about wicked fish with sharp teeth and dragons that breathed fire and cut through the air with jagged claws.
“The ejector button is over here.” Poe gently took Finn’s hand and moved it to the other armrest, over the button in question. “You should survive the crash.”
“What about you?” Finn asked. His voice shook and his gloved hands trembled on the armrests. Poe couldn’t tell if he was nervous or if it was just the TIE Fighter hurtling to certain doom that was doing it.
Poe sat back on his heels. “I’ve survived worse than this, kid. Don’t worry about me.” He pushed himself to his feet and patted Finn on the cheek. “If I survive this one, I’ll find you.”
Finn swallowed and nodded, and Poe dragged himself back into his seat.
“We’re about to reenter Jakku’s atmosphere,” Poe said, buckling himself back in. He closed his eyes and sat back. The padded headrest soothed his throbbing skull. “Prepare for—”
op
I HAVE ACTUAL TEARS IN MY EYES
I AM SERIOUSLY SO EXCITED FOR MORE AND SO GRATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU'VE ALREADY POSTED BECAUSE THIS IS SO PERFECT IN SO MANY WAYS
Good lord, this is just wonderful.
Re: op
(Anonymous) 2016-01-23 01:18 am (UTC)(link)I'm glad you're enjoying it so far (and don't mind the, oh, 3K of set-up (so far) for the porn. XD
[FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 6/?
(Anonymous) 2016-01-23 08:16 am (UTC)(link)I'm trying to outline this and I imagine it's going to end up rather long. If it ends up getting unwieldy, I might just do updates via AO3 to cut down on the...unwieldiness.
_________
Poe woke to a starless night sky.
He wasn’t sure if it was that same night, or the following night, or the night after. He could have been out for days. For all Poe knew, he could be dead and this desert wasteland was his version of the afterlife.
Poe moved incrementally, lifting a finger, then his whole hand, and finally his arm. Wriggling his toes in his boots, kicking a leg experimentally in the sand. His whole body felt like one giant bruise. Even his teeth ached in his jaw.
When he tried to sit up, his vision went wonky, world tilting violently beneath him, and he lowered himself back down to the ground again. The sand was cool and soft under him, and he lay his bruised cheek against it.
The only good thing about Jakku, he thought, as he panted into the sand, was that it was almost bearable at night.
When he dragged in a dry, gritty breath, his lungs burned and his ribs throbbed painfully. He didn’t need to poke or prod to know he’d broken something. Or several somethings. The fourth finger on his left hand was almost certainly broken, and would make flying painful. He probably had a concussion too.
Poe sighed and managed to push himself onto his knees.
He scanned the desert around him, hoping for a glimpse of the downed TIE Fighter or the former stormtrooper—Finn, his mind shouted at him—but there was nothing except a trail of debris and Poe’s own tangled parachute lying in a heap a few feet away from his final landing spot.
Poe lifted his wrist to his ear, checked his chrono and tapped at it, but the screen remained blank. Sighing, he got to his feet gingerly and shook dirt out of his shirt and pants.
It was then that he noticed his jacket—the one he’d had with him from his very first days in flightschool—was missing. It was far too dark now to go searching for it, and he couldn’t exactly wait around until morning.
His jacket had probably burned up in the crash, he reassured himself.
Poe took one step—pain pricked the soles of his feet like thousands of tiny needles—and then another and then another, and began the slow walk toward an uncertain future.
___
He managed to get back to D’Qar a few days later and then, a few days after that, he was officially medically cleared and back in his X-Wing and headed for Takodana.
There had been a sighting of a BB unit.
Along with an older smuggler, a Wookiee, and a young couple.
Poe tried not to let that ember of hope that he’d been carrying in his chest since Jakku—since Finn—grow, but it was threatening to turn into a wildfire and he had no interest in trying to stamp out the flames.
Their X-Wings streaked through the crystal-clear sky of Takodana like sleek birds of prey. TIE Fighters polluted the air and, for a brief moment, broken images came back to him in an overwhelming flood.
The sandy plains of Jakku rushing up to meet him. A violent jolt. The screeching of metal. A hoarse, gritty cry that may or may not have been his own. Starbursts of pain behind his eyelids. A hand clasping for his amid the rubble.
Poe shook the memories free.
When he turned his head and glanced out the viewport, he could see plumes of smoke rising from piles of debris, and then he noticed the bodies littering the ground.
He swallowed down any fear or doubt he might have been feeling and stuffed all those unwelcome feelings into the trusty lockbox in his mind, to be sifted through at a later date.
“Go straight ahead. Don’t let these thugs scare you.”
“Copy that.”
“We’re with you, Poe.”
They flew in perfect formation, cutting and slashing through the sky like claws.
[FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 7/?
(Anonymous) 2016-01-26 03:46 pm (UTC)(link)Well, sort of.
---
Takodana was victorious.
When Poe hopped out of his X-Wing and lifted off his helmet, the rush of fresh, unprocessed air against his face felt a lot like relief. For the first time in days, Poe felt like he could actually breathe without pain. It was probably the adrenaline still coursing through his system—it’d wear off and he’d probably get himself checked out at the medcenter before grabbing a couple hours of shut-eye—but he was going to savor the feeling as long as he possibly could.
A series of shrill beeps caught Poe’s attention and he looked up; BB-8 was racing across the tarmac for him.
Poe grinned and dropped to his knees to embrace the droid. It chittered at him excitedly, practically vibrating in his arms, and he caught only bits and pieces.
BB-8 trilled, [DESIGNATION:FINN] and [SAVED ME] and [MISSION:COMPLETED].
Poe heard, “Your mission wasn’t a failure. You are not a failure.”
And then, most importantly, “Finn is alive.”
Poe looked up, and then he saw him, standing there, wearing Poe’s jacket.
“Oh no.” Poe grinned and broke into a run.
They met in a tight embrace, Finn’s strong arms squeezing around Poe’s aching ribs, but he didn’t mind. Finn was alive. Poe could repay him now for saving his life.
It was on the slow journey back to D’Qar from Jakku that Poe realized he wouldn’t be able to honor the warrior’s code. He’d never read or heard any stories about a fallen soldier, though he knew they existed.
He’d overheard Mama murmuring to Grandfather Dameron about it, once. A cousin had been rescued by a marauding pirate and indebted herself to him only to have the pirate die of a mysterious illness a few weeks later.
Cousin Dameron hadn’t recovered, Mama had whispered to Grandfather Dameron in a low tone.
Poe had turned away from the conversation, which hadn’t been meant for his ears, and gone to play outside under the branches of Skywalker’s tree.
He’d wondered, during that long, sleepless trip back to D’Qar, what he would do. He couldn't speak to the anguish his cousin had experienced, but if it’d felt anything like what Poe was currently enduring, he hoped he would come to a swift end.
Now, he didn’t have to worry about that. Now, he had Finn. Now, they could begin.
“I need your help,” Finn told him, grasping Poe by the shoulders, and Poe nodded without knowing what was being asked of him. It didn’t matter.
Anything, anything for you.
Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 7/?
(Anonymous) 2016-01-29 12:37 pm (UTC)(link)Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 7/?
(Anonymous) 2016-01-29 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)Thanks! It's coming...slowly because I keep picking up other prompts, but there'll be more. :D
OP here
(Anonymous) 2016-02-03 02:34 pm (UTC)(link)Re: OP here
(Anonymous) 2016-02-03 05:22 pm (UTC)(link):) Just wanted to let you know I'm still plugging away, OP. It's become a Struggle, but I'll have the next part up for you sooner or later.
[FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 8/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-06 11:52 pm (UTC)(link)This will be heavily, heavily edited and/or expanded for AO3 once it's done.
---
Everything after Starkiller Base was destroyed descended into pure chaos.
Poe had been caught in the maelstrom, leading Black Squadron, blasting Starkiller, and he hadn’t really had the time to stop and consider the possibilities. The possibility that Finn might not make it out intact. The possibility that Finn might not make it at all.
When he touched down on-base and searched out the Millennium Falcon for Finn, he found Chewbacca holding Finn’s limp, lifeless body in his arms. He found Rey, too, standing stock-still, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her disheveled buns were matted with blood that could have been hers or Finn’s. Something sick and hot coiled in Poe’s gut, like a spring.
Rey looked like she could have been a princess. Finn, cradled so carefully in Chewbacca’s arms, looked like a fallen soldier.
Or maybe Rey had been the brave soldier and Finn had been the prince. Maybe Finn would owe Rey his devotion now, as Poe owed Finn.
Maybe they’d been both to each other.
He opened his mouth to say something—anything—to her, some sort of comforting nonsense, but the haunted, hollow look in her eyes stopped him short.
Poe turned back to watch the Wookiee gently lay Finn down on a hovergurney.
“I’ve got a pulse!”
All thoughts of anything but Finn vanished from his mind. In that moment, Poe only knew one thing: he needed to be there, by Finn’s side. He needed to be there when Finn woke up. If Finn woke up.
Poe followed after.
He would chase Finn to the far reaches of the galaxy, if only to see with his own eyes that he was alive. That he was well.
He would give to Finn what Finn had offered to Rey, if he chose to accept it: the gift of his devotion.
Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 8/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-10 08:54 am (UTC)(link)literally on the edge of my seat for more
ugh you just KNOW poe will go all out with his 'devotion
Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 8/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-10 09:38 am (UTC)(link)More is on its way! (At some point soon. Writing is currently a struggle.)
Poe's gonna pull out all the top. Or at least he'll try. :D
[FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 9/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-21 10:10 am (UTC)(link)Finn wakes up and Poe starts having second thoughts.
(Yes, the tense change is intentional.)
***
Finn sleeps like the dead—and Mama had spun stories like this too, of enchanted princes and princesses cursed into the sleep of the dead by wicked witches—and in the interim, Rey goes off in search of Luke Skywalker.
Poe promises her he’ll check in on Finn as often as he can, when he’s not on missions or running sims with new recruits, and report back to her immediately should Finn wake.
And so Poe finds himself at Finn’s bedside, skimming though a datapad, reading to Finn some of Mama’s—and his—favorite Yavin fairytales. He recites to Finn the story of the floating city in the clouds. The one about the dragon who longs to be a real, human boy. The story of the princess who talks to the Force-trees.
He keeps the story of the prince in the tower to himself, though, for no real reason. He keeps that one in his holster, with the safety on.
“—and this princess, she’s a real brave one,” Poe says, as he absentmindedly flips a page on his datapad. He’s not reciting from the holobook he’s pulled up onto the screen, this one he’s reciting from memory. “She’s the daughter of a lost empire. The heir to an empty throne. She knows loss and war, has been forged in fire. When the dragon tightens his chains around her, all she thinks of is freedom. Vengeance.”
Maybe not the kind of romantic tale Mama would have told, Poe thinks, as he observes Finn’s inert form, but he likes this one. It’s a true story, anyway, and those make for the best stories.
“The princess bides her time, plans her escape with a brave knight and a handsome soldier. One day, feeling bold, she takes the chains that imprison her and dances for the dragon and his hordes. The dragon, drunk on food and wine, is enchanted. And here, she sees an opening for her escape. She takes the chains and—”
Poe doesn’t get a chance to finish his tale. Finn’s motionless form begins to stir on the cot, eyelids twitching and then fingers moving at his thighs. Poe stills at his side, clutching the datapad in his suddenly clammy hands, breath caught in his throat. He’s afraid to breathe, as if the fragile threads holding—tethering—Finn to the world of the living will snap it he does.
(That’s in Poe’s stories too. Maybe he should start reading others.)
Finn opens one eye and then the next, then blinks up at the ceiling. He smacks parched lips and makes a dry, throaty, utterly miserable sound that has a medidroid at his side in a heartbeat, a glass of water in its hand.
Doctor Kalonia rushes in, along with nurse-droids and attendants, who maneuver Poe out of the way. They lay hands and pincers and claw-like apparatus on Finn and gently guide him into a sitting position. One droid quickly slides a pile of soft pillows under Finn’s back, and Finn groans appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut.
“Ah, ah, eyes open,” Kalonia says, holding up a metallic pen. She presses the side of it and a light blinks on. After examining Finn’s bloodshot, bleary eyes, Kalonia listens to his heartbeat and, deciding everything all checks out, orders the droids and assistants out.
Poe gets up too, tucks his data pad under his arm, nudges his stool under the foot of the bed and prepares to follow them out, but the doctor lays a hand on his arm and he turns toward her.
“Doctor?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows at her in question.
“Stay with him. I need to inform the General that he’s awake,” she orders, and hustles out, leaving Poe standing awkwardly next to the side of Finn’s bed.
Poe feels useless now, with Finn awake. Now that he’s awake, Finn doesn’t need Poe reading fairytales or holding his hand.
He probably doesn’t need Poe’s devotion either.
Poe thinks about Cousin Dameron and wonders—
“Poe,” Finn rasps, his voice rusty with disuse. He digs his fingers into the blanket laid across his lap. “Wh-where’s Rey? Why isn’t she here?”
Poe inches closer and sets his datapad down on the stool to rub his hands over his face. “Rey’s on a mission to retrieve Luke Skywalker. The last of the Jedi. She’ll be back, though. She promised.”
Finn nods slowly, processing that, then sweeps his eyes down the length of Poe’s body and back up again. “You look like you went for a tumble in the barracks with a Bantha,” he comments, tone quirking up at the end.
Poe manages a smile at that. “It’s been a rough few weeks, bud—”
“I’ve been out for weeks?” Finn exclaims, eyes widening. Immediately, he kicks off the blanket and attempts to stand, but his legs buckle and Poe manages to catch him by his arm.
“Whoa, whoa. Easy there. You’ve been off your feet for nearly three weeks, in a medically induced coma. You need to build your strength back up,” Poe says, guiding him to sit on the end of the bed.
Finn sighs and laughs, though a touch humorlessly. “You mean to tell me I’ve been sleeping for nearly a standard month? Holy Force, if this’d happened back on the Finalizer, they would’ve just chucked me out of the airlock and that’d’ve been that.”
Poe drags the stool back out from under the bed and sits across from Finn. Their knees bump and Poe attempts to maneuver the stool so that he’s not practically sitting in the poor guy’s lap. He’s had a whole lot dumped on him in the few minutes he’s been awake.
Poe can’t bring himself to mention the debt he owes Finn now. Not yet. He’d probably think it was strange or, worse yet, creepy, disgusting. If Finn rejected him, rejected his offering—well. Poe’s not about to risk that. The potential of friendship with Finn is more than he could have hoped for anyway. His own hangups about this particular Yavin IV tradition are his and his alone, and he needn’t force them on Finn.
“You look…” Finn trails off, motioning in the general vicinity of Poe’s face. “Like you’ve got something you wanna tell me.”
“I, uh,” Poe says rather articulately.
“Right.” Finn regards him with a skeptical head tilt and crosses his arms over his chest.
“It’s nothing, buddy. Pal.” Poe claps Finn on his knee. “You hungry? How about I ring for one of the helper droids to bring you something to eat?”
Finn looks down at Poe’s hand on his knee and Poe slips it off without trying to look like he just got caught with his hand somewhere it shouldn’t be. Which it was, but still. These are Poe’s problems, not Finn’s.
I can do this, Poe tells himself, in a feeble attempt to strengthen his resolve.
He can do what his cousin couldn’t. Traditions are only traditions if you honor and uphold them.
Poe can survive this.
***
TBC
Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 9/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-23 09:27 pm (UTC)(link)Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 9/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-23 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)Glad to hear it, and thanks for the comment! :D
Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 9/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-24 03:16 am (UTC)(link)Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 9/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-24 11:55 am (UTC)(link)Thanks for the kind words! I'll try to have the next part up somewhat soonish but I'm having some computer problems all of a sudden, so updates might become even more infrequent. :/
Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 9/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-25 06:30 am (UTC)(link)All in all this is great, and I can't wait for more!
Re: [FILL] Finn/Poe, Yavin 4 sexy warrior traditions 9/?
(Anonymous) 2016-02-25 06:23 pm (UTC)(link)Wow, thanks for the awesome comment! :3 I think we're done with the build up now and can move on to the ~good~ stuff, lol. (It won't be a smooth ride, natch, but hopefully it'll be worthwhile. :D)