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ke-119 · 1 year

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FALLOUT - Chapter 14

Chapters Posted: 14 of 18

Rating: T+

Warnings: Canon-typical violence & fighting/blood/gore/graphic descriptions of injury/angst/hurt/comfort/Multiple POVs

Characters/Pairings: Poe Dameron/Finn, Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, BB-8, OCs.

Summary: Still reeling in the aftermath of Crait, Poe Dameron and Finn are sent to a secret Resistance base tucked away on Lothal to serve as acting generals. Their numbers dwindled to barely a handful, and with General Organa’s order grounding all surviving Resistance personnel to heal and regroup, morale is at an all time low. Poe grapples with his inability to sit still; the First Order looms, an ever-encroaching threat to what remains of the Outer Rim’s free space; intimate feelings grow impossible to ignore and a shocking return promises devastating consequences not only for those stationed on Lothal, but for the Resistance and galaxy at large.

A/N: An AU adventure, a side-quest of sorts, to account for some of the time between TLJ and ROS. Stormpilot centric. Canon up until the end of TLJ (but does not take into account Resistance Reborn or the Finn/Rose arc).

Thank you to anyone who has read, liked, and/or reblogged! I am so grateful for you and your time.

Masterlist

CHAPTER 14

“Have we met?”

Ira Nyx sat, hands folded before him on the table, his face impenetrable.“No. But I have heard your name and seen you many times. Now I know who you are.”

Still hovering by his side, Finn’s eyes searched Poe’s. He hadn’t stopped staring since Poe had woken.

“How do you feel?” Finn interrupted his exchange with Ira. A welcome break—it was too much for his sluggish mind to follow. A hollowness permeated his entire body, his head too light for his shoulders.

“Not really sure yet.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay.” Finn sat back on his heels. “Take your time.”

Poe took in the bruises forming around Finn’s cheekbones, the cuts on his lip and chin. “Are you okay?”

“You’re asking me if—“ Finn’s face crumpled and he dragged his hands down over it. When he looked up, his eyes were wet, voice a fierce whisper. He grabbed Poe’s hand. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Poe’s heart skipped into his throat. “What?”

“Die. Almost die—whatever. Just… don’t do it again, okay?”

The edges of Poe’s smile trembled, his throat tight. “Okay.”

Finn blew out a breath then turned back to Ira. “Enough with the cryptic back and forth. Out with it.”

“He survived Order 66.” Karé’s voice startled them. Poe had forgotten she, Iolo and BB-8 were standing by the door.

Ira Nyx wasn’t the most subtle being—he had an innate reverence to him, a larger than life presence, only in small part due to his towering stature. That he had once been a Jedi… All the pieces clicked neatly into place. But as far as Poe knew, no one had survived Order 66. That was kind of the whole deal. Any Jedi from that era… They were all long dead. “How is that possible?”

“I hid.”

A frown creased Finn’s brow. “For how long?”

“Since the day I watched them all die.”

“That’s what, almost 40 years?” Poe said. “Did you know what was happening during that time?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? That’s it?”

It was quiet for a long time. Ira Nyx looked ancient when he spoke next, his giant shoulders sagged. “Indeed.” He stared at his hands. “I made a choice. Anyone around me would have been at risk.”

“But what about all the people you could have helped?” Poe carefully pulled himself to a seated position. “On Garel alone. Not to mention the rest of the Outer Rim.”

“I knew what was happening and did nothing. That makes you angry.”

Poe willed the heated hammering of his heart to slow. “Look, I don’t know you, and I don’t really care that you did nothing. But you need to know how many suffered and died while you hid.”

“I know.”

Finn shifted. “Yeah?”

“I saw them. Not each one but many. Just as I saw you before I met you. Always in fragments. Scattered images. With you it was fire. Blood. Many beings dying. A great… wave razing everything in its path.”

“You saw the base explode,” Poe said.

Ira frowned, a far off look in his eyes. “Are there more?”

“Many more,” Finn answered for him. “Why?”

“I saw it four times. Each distinctly different than the last.”

The fire in the hearth snapped and popped into the quiet room. Realization settled heavily between them. Three other bases had probably been destroyed. There went that list, unraveling into oblivion. More names. More friends; gone.

Karé broke the silence. “You can see the future?”

“I cannot see the future.” Ira gave a good natured chuckle. “I see… echoes. Of what could be. What has not yet come to be. When I saw all of you, none of it made sense until we were face to face.”

“Did you see anything else?” Finn asked.

“Bits and pieces.” Ira pinched the bridge of his nose. “I cannot put it all together.”

Poe realized Finn still hadn’t let go of his hand as he heard him say, “Maybe we can help with that.”

* * *

With orders to stay in bed, Poe was left alone in the house while Ira led the others to where he concealed a landspeeder. Poe protested. He couldn’t help himself—he wanted to see what ancient model Ira had been hiding for the last forty years, and was eager to get his body moving, but with a fit of impressive squawking, BB-8 had won the argument in the end.

The second the tattered cloth fell back over the door, Poe crept up off Ira’s makeshift mattress to stretch by the warmth of the hearth, watching the flames lap hungrily over fresh tree scraps.

A whisper of pain crawled up his side when he moved, and he’d never felt such deep muscle soreness in his life, but he was alive. He could stand, he could walk. As the minutes went on, his body awoke more, his brain with it too. The only traces of a near-fatal injury were the blood-crusted tatters of his shirt that hung open around his midsection. It was like looking down at someone else’s body, the gore dried dark brown in places, but no injury peeking through the ruined fabric. Only a shiny scar was left, skin knitted together in a jagged line, but miraculously healed and closed. Poe ran his fingers along his face and found similarly scarred over cuts and scrapes where shattered transparisteel had peppered his face. The same ghost-echoes of pain flitted across the healed skin at his touch.

He couldn’t remember anything after the bitter cold in the G-9’s cabin and Finn’s warm chest against his back… But he could feel echoes. A distant warmth, spreading through his core, replacing the cold. A stranger knitting him back together with their bare hands. Someone he had never met.

The full-body hollowness had evaporated and been replaced with a tightness in his lungs. His confession to Finn. It was out in the open. Bits and pieces of the conversation floated back to him, but not much else. Had Finn reacted? Did he feel the same way? Like trying to catch a wisp of smoke between his fingers, the memory took half shape, but dissipated before he could grasp it.

“It’s hard to believe—you standing here. Like nothing even happened.”

Poe turned to see Finn leaning against the doorway. He crossed the room. The tips of their boots touched. Poe wrapped his arms around Finn, burying his face in the crook of his shoulder. He squeezed tight, breathing him in; that familiar, comforting smell—sweat, leather, earth. Finn’s arms slid around Poe’s back and waist, pulling him in. Given the chance, Poe might never let go.

* * *

By the time Ira, Karé, Iolo and BB-8 filed back into the hut, the fog in Poe’s brain had mercifully dissipated. But only to make room for the onslaught of issues at hand.

Kothal was under attack—yes, the galaxy was at war and that was an unfortunate byproduct—but the Resistance presence on Kothal had brought the fight to them. Kemi’s haunted eyes floated into his mind. It could have been lifetimes ago that they found her in the ruined market square, but the sharp memory of the betrayal in her eyes kept it fresh. They had to get back. They had to warn the other bases. Leia.

Then there was the chip from the virus-ridden BB unit back on base. Whatever information they could glean from it. Poe paced the dirt floor of Ira’s tiny home. He was alive. In fact, he felt more alive than he had since arriving on Kothal and considering he had been essentially dead just a few hours prior… A reinvigorated fire burned in him.

BB-8 bleeped disapprovingly.

“What? No, I—“ Poe looked down at the floor. He really had almost carved a figure eight into the dust. “Okay, fine. I’ll stop. Can you display the information on the chip and still protect yourself from the virus?”

BB8 hummed a resounding no, blinking expectantly at Poe.

“Okay, gimme a second to think. Our G-9’s astromech was completely fried…”

Karé perked up suddenly. “Our nav computer still works. Everything else is shot, but we can at least try that.”

“That just might work.”

And so, in Ira’s landspeeder—Poe had been right, it was a creaky relic of a SoroSuub X-34—they returned to Karé and Iolo’s wrecked pod. It was in better shape than Poe and Finn’s G-9, but still completely unflyable.

Ira stood outside the craft as the fighters crowded in, jostling wounds and pressed against each other in the tiny space made for two. BB-8 beeped in annoyance, shoving his way through their legs. He popped out his durasteel storage vault and Poe took the First Order branded chip from it, inserting it into an awaiting port.

The nav computer’s screen fizzed into static and went black. Just their kriffing luck. Then, white letters built themselves into words and sentences against the dark background. Some made sense, some just looked like a jumble of letters and numbers to Poe.

But one thing stood out starkly to all of them, and Karé cursed at the name and title: Tallon Voxel, First Order Engineer.

“I thought he was dead,” Iolo murmured into the stunned silence. “He went missing on that aid mission to Ryloth.”

Finn and Poe exchanged a glance. Everyone else on that mission had been killed.

“You’re as good as dead if they have you,” Poe said. “They’re not big on the whole catch and release thing. They must have had a use for him to keep him alive.” Although, there was no guarantee he was still alive at this point. The chip had served its purpose. Tallon Voxel might have already, too.

“Engineer.” They all turned to look at Iolo, who shifted uncomfortably. “He created the working model for our base network security protocols.”

“Single-handedly? He can’t possibly have all that information,” Karé said.

Iolo nodded. “He designed the systems. They need him to override it.”

“So… it’s only a matter of time before the other bases…” Karé let the end of her sentence drop off.

They were running out of time—against a ticking clock they could not see. It was foolish to hope that coordinates to every remaining Resistance base in the galaxy hadn’t been tortured out of Tallon. There was only so much you could withstand… if you were trained. Engineers weren’t.

“Lothal was one of the planets listed as a diversionary location for General Organa,” Finn said.

Iolo paled. “That means Cassidode IV, Primtara… and Mako Ta… could be gone too.”

“We have to warn the others.”

“And get back to Kothal,” Poe said. “Who knows how long the tunnels will hold.”

Finn rubbed his temples. “Our ship’s comms were destroyed in the crash.”

Karé flicked the pod’s hyperwave communicator on. Predictably, nothing happened; the shredded antenna was the first thing Poe noticed as he had climbed into the wrecked craft.

“I know where you can get a ship.” Ira Nyx startled them all. They turned to him standing in the gaping hole where the pod’s engine once sat. “Garel City. You can broadcast your message from there. The streets are crawling with First Order troopers, but their main area of concern is the spaceport.”

“And where exactly is this ship?” Finn asked, eyes narrowed. Poe already knew the answer.

“The spaceport.”

“Of course it is.”

“A friend owes me a favor. Jem Cade. Hangar 71-C.”

“And you’ll be staying here?” Poe also knew the answer.

Ira Nyx’s mouth thinned to a grim line. “I will.”

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mr-moonbeanies · 2 years

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me, just casually scrolling through wolfstar, and stormpilot and all that good wholesome gay shit but then remphadora and reylo starts popping up:

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thewuzzy · 1 year

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Goodnight Little Empire

finally earning the long awaited FinnPoe smut tag

Ship tags: FinnPoe; Rey/Jess Pava; FinnRey

Rating: Explicit Words: 106,807 Chapters: 41/50

‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you,’ Poe gasps in between the presses of Finn’s lips. His skin burns so hot he can barely breathe out the words. ‘If we don’t make it back alive.’ ‘Oh, we’re making it back alive,’ says Finn, and the steely certainty in his voice goes straight to Poe’s groin. ‘So you can tell me tomorrow.’

Chapter Link

#goodnight little empire #finnpoe #finnpoe fic rec #tros #tros fic rec #star wars #stormpilot #stormpilot fic #rey x jess #finnpoe fic

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themisfitthrone · 2 years

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Original Fic: who needs soulmates anyway by kbirb that's me! in 2015

Relationship: Finn/Poe

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Tags: Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmates, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, that's up to the reader to decide, soulmates name au

Audio Length: 16 minutes, 22 seconds

Summary: Poe never needed a soulmate and Finn never knew they existed. Or, a named-based soulmate AU.

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multifandomhoodies · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn Characters: Poe Dameron, Finn (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Outdoor Sex, questionable choice of lube, Praise Kink, If You Squint - Freeform, Dirty talk dirty sex but it's Literally dirty, but they're having fun with it that's what matters, Explicit Consent Summary:

Finn and Poe are headed back to camp after a day's work of cutting trees and windfalls. Poe gets an idea, and Finn is along for the ride.

#finnpoe #stormpilot #my fic #my fics #finnpoe fic #stormpilot fic

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hackedbyawriter · 2 years

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FinnPoe Incorrect quotes pt 2/?

Pt 1

#finnpoe #stormpilot #sw finn #finn sw #finn #poe #poe dameron #incorrect quotes #finn x poe #poe x finn #finn star wars #rebel finn #shitpost #bros to hoes #final tag is from my own fic #star wars

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oldfangirl81 · 8 months

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Sam Wilson and his boyfriend need to be StormPilot for Halloween.

#fic prompt #sambucky #samsteve #sam riley #someone else write or draw this #please #StormPilot

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gmariam19 · 26 days

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If there aren't any fics where Poe is put in carbon freeze and Finn has to rescue him--or vice versa--then I guess I'm going to add it to my short list.

#finnpoe #stormpilot #poe dameron #finn #and if there is maybe i'll give it a try anyway #i have so many ideas #but so many of them are long #and i don't want to write a long chaptered fic #even though i have an awesome time travel/force idea ugh

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artemis-pendragon · 3 months

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#i am simultaneously one and two so whateverrrr #finnpoe #star wars #star wars fanfiction #sw sequels #stormpilot #finnpoe fic #sw finn #poe dameron

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ke-119 · 1 year

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FALLOUT - Chapter 11

Chapters Posted: 11 of 18

Rating: T+

Warnings: Canon-typical violence & fighting/blood/gore/graphic descriptions of injury/angst/hurt/comfort/Multiple POVs

Characters/Pairings: Poe Dameron/Finn, Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, BB-8, OCs.

Masterlist

CHAPTER 11

There was no gradual return to wakefulness.

Karé was nowhere, suspended in cold, all consuming oblivion, and then she was very suddenly awake. Dry and gnarled trees snapped into focus above her. Urgent, pulsing pain in her left leg, her head, her neck. Flat on her back against cold, hard ground.

The sky above was a rich gridelin, streaked through with wispy red clouds. Was it night? Dawn? A soft bump, bump, bump against her right ankle. She lifted her head with difficulty and saw BB-8, rolling backwards and forwards into her leg in an attempt to rouse her. His durasteel exterior was singed black on one side, but he seemed to be functioning fine.

“I’m up, Beebee-Ate. I’m up. You okay?”

BB-8 meeped uncertainly.

An odd sound had filled her ears; harsh, ragged whooshes of air. She realized, belatedly, that it was her own breathing.

A face appeared above her, blotting out the sky and the scraggy trees. Strange, yellow eyes deep set in a wrinkled, cyan face peered down at her, two lekku swinging against broad shoulders. The Twi’Lek bent in closer.

Karé’s ragged breathing sharpened, her hand fumbled to where her blaster should have been strapped to her thigh.

It was gone.

The pain in her leg was everywhere now, traveling through her foot, up her side, burrowing deep into her hip. She could not escape it. A distant ringing muffled BB-8’s warbling and white swept into the edges of her vision—

A swell of warmth and calm spread outward from her chest in one great ripple, through her arms to her fingertips, mercifully dulling the pain in her leg, and out to the tips of her toes. The adrenaline punch subsided; the world cleared.

The Twi’Lek offered his hand, and in a soft, accented baritone asked, “Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

He pulled her to her feet, and when he seemed satisfied she wouldn’t keel over, took two steps back, giving her space to assess herself.

Nothing broken, as far as she could tell. She spun in a slow circle, taking in the barren surroundings. Behind the Twi’Lek, the pod was still smoking, its bulbous helm embedded in the dirt. It had crushed several parched trees on its way down, carving out a ditch in the desert floor. The dust had not yet fully dissipated. She must not have been out long.

If the Twi’Lek meant her harm, he really was drawing it out. Maybe he had just been waiting for her to wake up. No fun killing someone already half-dead… Who knows what psychos living in the desert do for fun?

BB-8 rolled up to the Twi-Lek and bleeped up at him once. He crouched down in front of him.

“Well, hello. You look quite different than I remember.” He turned to Karé. “Is it just you and your astromech?” He strangely seemed to have expected more.

Karé struggled to grasp the slivers of moments just before the crash. Most dissipated as soon as she tried to pin one down long enough for it to make sense. The pod had held up as they made their jump… Poe and Finn… Lost control of the G-9. An explosion of light. Iolo flinging his hand out, activating her seat eject. Then nothing.

The Twi’Lek momentarily forgotten, she lurched toward the pod. BB-8 raced after her. A hole gaped where the stabilizer fin and back engine had been torn away.

“Iolo!”

The familiar figure was slumped over the flight-stick in the pilot seat.

“Iolo?” The frantic beat of her heart jumped into her throat as she slid her hands on either side of his face and tilted it up to her. She rubbed the pads of her thumbs across the skin under his eyes. Still warm. Still breathing. She forced herself to slow her own.

A strand of hair flopped down over his eyes and joined the mess that was matted to a nasty gash in his forehead. Blood oozed in a lazy line down to his right eyebrow. Finally, his eyes opened.

“So much for… sticking the landing.”.

Karé puffed a heavy sigh, sinking down against the flight console behind her. The Twi’Lek had entered the ship as well, and hung back in the shadow created by a mangled piece of ceiling. His long, tawny robes looked so out of place, yet so familiar at the same time. Echoes of her childhood bedtime stories swirled in her mind. The stories of mysterious Force-strong beings who could manipulate people and surroundings with their thoughts. It wasn’t possible.

Karé watched Iolo gingerly unclip the four point harness. His right hand was burnt, the skin shiny and red.

“Where did we end up? Hey—!”

Iolo registered the Twi’Lek before Karé could warn him. His hand went to his blaster as he whipped around to face the stranger.

“Iolo, wait!”

The blaster rocketed across the ship, knocked free by an invisible momentum. Karé gasped.

The Twi’Lek emerged from the shadows, both hands up. “I am not here to hurt you.”

“Who the hell are you?” Iolo backed up to shield Karé with his body. She stepped out from behind him.

“I am Ira Nyx. I saw your ships go down.”

“You just happened to be out here at that exact moment?”

“I live here.”

“Iolo…” Karé began.

He silenced her with a wave of his hand, not taking his eyes off of Ira. “You live here, huh?”

Before Ira could answer, Karé cut in. “Hang on. Did you say ships?”

Ira nodded. “I watched two ships crash. The second not too far from here.”

BB-8 gave a happy chirp, lights blinking in a frenzy. Karé felt a small twinge of hope, and with it newfound urgency to get to Poe and Finn. Their ship had been in much worse shape than the pod to start and there was no telling how it had fared in a crash. The throbbing in her leg returned insistently.

“We must tend to your injuries first,” Ira said, as if reading her mind.

Iolo’s next words stopped hers in her throat. “You survived Order 66.”

Youthful and eager, Iolo could be somewhat idealistic, but he was quick and wicked smart. He was also, apparently, a war history enthusiast. Order 66 happened long before either of them were born. Most of their generation knew of the Jedi from bedtime stories, not that they had actually existed, and were eradicated by the Empire decades ago. A look of immense sadness filled the Twi’Lek’s face, fleeting, but so tangible Karé’s throat and eyes pricked with it, too.

“I would like to help you.” Ira was quiet when he spoke again.

Iolo’s shoulders drooped a fraction, though whether it was apprehension receding or his adrenaline deserting him, Karé couldn’t tell. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” His voice was breathless. “That was decades ago. You’ve been here since then?”

“Yes. I knew this day would come.”

Karé and Iolo waited. BB-8 burbled. Ira offered no further explanation. Instead, he continued, “Your ship is wrecked and you need medical attention. Let me help you. Once you are well, I will lead you to your friends.”

Iolo opened his mouth to protest, but the words trailed off as he swayed. Karé grabbed a fistful of his flight suit and propped him up as best she could. As far as she could see, this was their only option. They wouldn’t do Poe and Finn much good if they couldn’t make it to them.

* * *

“Are you ready?”

Finn knew what was coming, and, no, he wasn’t. He stared at his right arm, limp in his lap. A hands-length longer than his left, it hung like the busted tubes dangling from the ceiling of their wrecked craft, detached and alien. It wasn’t the first time he’d dislocated a shoulder. Or the second.

Mental conditioning as a stormtrooper cut out the middleman between “jump” and “how high?”—stormtroopers just jumped. The physical conditioning was to make sure they survived the jump. In reality, it was hours of training off the battlefield, where they killed each other at the same rate they died in actual combat.

He was fifteen the first time, and it was his left. His days were spent corralled from training rooms to combat simulations, like herding bantha to slaughter. It was their third exercise of the day; hand to hand combat. Down and dirty. Finn learned quickly the name of the game wasn’t winning, just surviving. The gargantuan trooper he was paired with didn’t even have to try. He grabbed Finn’s forearm with bone-crushing force as he weaved out of the way, and yanked. It left the socket with a sinuous pop and he blacked out.

The next thing he remembered were two troopers pulling him from the mass into a galley off the main corridor as they were herded to their next training. One took off Finn’s helmet and clamped a hand over his mouth. The other grabbed his useless left arm and tugged. Barbaric, but with practiced precision. His shoulder slid back into place.

“There. Now you’ll survive the rest of the day. Hopefully.” Then they had shoved his helmet back on his head and pushed him back into the group filtering down the corridor.

“Finn?” Poe’s voice brought him back.

“Yeah,” he grunted and urged his muscles to shed any tension. It would only hurt more.

Poe, crouched in front of him, gave him an incredibly charming, “Here goes nothing” look and braced the palm of his hand against Finn’s armpit. He slid his other hand around Finn’s wrist, and using the wall behind Finn’s back as counter-pressure, yanked. Finn bit back a yell, but was relieved to feel the shoulder slide back into its socket with a snick.

“Damn. It worked.” Poe grinned.

Most of the lights in the downed G-9 were dead, with the exception of the few that hung down in a tangled mass of wires in places where the ceiling was crushed in. The strange glow underlined the bruises and smattering of bloody gashes along Poe’s hairline and cheekbones. Most of his injuries looked like they came from the shattered transparisteel on the pilot’s side. The co-pilot’s window had held, but the impact with the earth had contorted the metal, pinning Finn’s right shoulder to the seat with it.

They were nowhere near the capital city, let alone any settlement or outposts. Finn had briefly exited the ship to search the landscape. The ship had come to rest under a thick patch of the skeletal trees that dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see as well as a cluster of the jagged rocks that jutted out of the cracked soil. It went for miles in every direction he turned, meeting the sky in a continuous loop, until he got dizzy squinting to see where it ended.

The cluster of trees and rock the G-9 was jammed into offered some protection, if only concealing them from overhead visibility. But it was freezing. The cold seeped steadily into the cramped shuttle, chilling the durasteel all around them.

Poe came out of his crouched position and sat back, stilling himself.

He was in pain, Finn realized.

The outer physical signs weren’t there, but Finn knew it. Somehow.

His own shoulder had dulled to barely an ache; it definitely wasn’t his pain he was feeling anymore.

“Think you can get the comms up and running?” Poe asked him, voice tight. “I’ll take the engine.” He brought one knee up to stand, then stopped. The lines in his brow deepened.

“Poe? Hang on.” Finn pushed him back down. “Let me make sure you’re not injured first.”

“I’m fine.” Poe gave him a lopsided grin, but didn’t try to get up again. Finn reached up to pull one of the blinking lights closer. Finn guided his palms over Poe’s extremities, checking for blood after each one. A hush fell over the two of them as he searched, the only sound the frigid whistling and the increasingly clipped in and out of Poe’s breath. Finn felt more than saw that Poe was favoring his left side, even as he sat. His hands hovered over Poe’s chest for a moment.

Poe nodded, perhaps as much for himself as for Finn’s sake. “It’s okay.”

Finn peeled back the left side of Poe’s jacket and it stuck to his hip and side. Dread laced its way around Finn’s gut. It was blood. The shirt went up next, soaked through and tacky. There was a significant gash in the skin of Poe’s left side, it wound its way around his ribs down to his hip. Finn was frozen in place, heart hammering.

“That’s way worse than I thought it was.” Poe’s words caught in his throat. “Okay. Minor setback.” Hand shaking, he gestured to a panel above Finn’s head. “Check in there for a medpac.”

“That’s going to take more than a bacta patch.” Finn found himself saying. Clamping down on the panic climbing up his throat, he forced himself to stand. His fingers padded along the edge of the tarnished panels until he found the pressure opening and pressed. The panel popped open. Sure enough, a tiny medpac was tucked in next to a few rolls of gauze. He scooped them up and dropped them on the floor next to Poe.

The gash was deep. Scary deep. Down to several layers of red tissue and muscle closest to his hip and more superficial around his ribcage. The deeper parts still oozed, albeit in a lazy rhythm. Slow, but not enough to quell Finn’s panic. He didn’t have any medical knowledge. Troopers weren’t entitled to first aid. Anything a bacta patch couldn’t fix—you were as good as dead.

He picked up a roll of the gauze. It dropped from his numb fingers. He struggled with the zipper on the medpac. Inside were a pair of surgical scissors, some tape, a comically minuscule bacta pack, and some pills.

“This is just a bump in the road.” Poe’s hand came to rest on his. Finn dropped the medpac altogether and grabbed Poe’s hand.

He was almost dizzy, overwhelmed by the pain he could feel rolling off Poe in waves.

“We’ll figure this out. Just help me throw some bandages on so we can get to working on the comms, yeah? Hey.” Poe slid two fingers under Finn’s chin and made him look up. The touch was electrifying, circumstances be damned. Finn’s hand went to Poe’s face, and he leaned into the touch. They sat for a few moments, in silence punctuated only by the icy gusts that whistled through cracked transparisteel and the clipped in and out of Poe’s breaths.

Then, Poe straightened abruptly. “What are you doing?”

Finn’s heart dropped. This was it: he had overstepped. Misread the moment and crossed the line. “Nothing. I’m so sorry. I was just—”

“No, no, no.” Poe squeezed Finn’s hands in fleeting reassurance. “I mean you did something.”

The realization dawned on them both at the same time. Poe’s voice was stronger and his breathing had evened out.

“I—I don’t know,” Finn said. His eyes flicked down to the hand that had been holding Poe’s face, then back up to meet Poe’s gaze. “But you look better.”

“See? Just a bump in the road.” Poe gave him a brilliant grin that made Finn’s legs tremble for completely different reasons. “What do you say we get those comms up and running?”

The bacta pack, predictably, had barely been enough to cover the deepest grooves of the wound, but Poe insisted he felt better. Finn pulled him to his feet and he was steady, so for the time being Finn believed him. They wound the gauze around Poe’s midsection together, hands catching on each other, fumbling then resuming their twisting rhythm. Several times, Finn found himself on the cusp of telling Poe, the words burning on the tip of his tongue, his heart pounding. He just couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate.

Once they finished, Poe found the panel that housed the communication equipment, bashed in from the impact. Together, they dislodged it. Wires spilled out, some sparking, others, fried beyond recognition. It was the perfect distraction, and Finn chalked up his momentary bravery to the last dregs of adrenaline. Ill-timed love confessions aside, they had one hell of a job ahead of them.

* * *

The landscape of Garel was varied, but the blasted quadrant they’d crashed in was a cracked, flat expanse that stretched on endlessly, only occasionally dotted with scraggy trees. Garel City was nowhere in sight. You could see for eons. Karé was beginning to doubt her choice to accept help from Ira Nyx. One of his strides took nearly three of hers, and she was half-dragging, half-carrying Iolo at this point. He’d stopped making sense miles back. An overgrown thicket of the skeletal trees sprung up in the distance. Iolo stumbled and nearly sent them crashing into the dust.

“How much further?” Karé grunted. Her leg was fire, screaming for her to stop. With a glance over her shoulder, she could still see the smoking husk of the pod behind them, now a tiny gray dot in the distance. Ira eclipsed into the thicket.

“We are here,” his muffled voice floated through the dense brush.

The branches clawed at her and Iolo, the path now too small for the two of them. Iolo’s knees finally folded under him, dropping them both. Before they hit the earth, Ira reappeared, lifting Iolo off of her. The sudden weightlessness was disorienting, she stumbled after him through the brush.

The copse opened up into a clearing. In the middle, stood a small dwelling, handmade with a combination of earth and branches and trunks of the Garel trees. A misshapen chimney jutted out of the top. It looked like a giant, lumpy bowl turned upside down. Beside a window carved in the front was a taller opening, where a tattered cloth hung in place of a door.

A fire blazed inside, and only then did Karé realize she was shivering. Ira lowered Iolo onto a makeshift bed in the far corner, a piece of fabric filled with leaves and twigs. Then he returned to where she was hanging off the door frame. BB-8 hummed inquisitively at her heels.

“Come. Sit.” Ira took her by the shoulders and lowered her into one of the chairs at a little table opposite the bed.

“Why are you helping us?”

“You look like you could use it.”

“But you’ve been hiding for what—forty years? Why now?”

“That time has ended. I have been waiting for you. All of you.”

Karé couldn’t focus through the white-hot burning in her leg and her eyes dropped down to look at it. The world shimmered and tilted as she took in the damage. Her flight suit hung in tatters around her left thigh, the flesh a seared and peeling mess. “That…” She swallowed with difficulty. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Ira’s palm came to rest flat on the worst of her ruined flesh. Before she could recoil, a familiar rush of warmth pooled from under his hand, numbing the agony as it went. Then, slowly, he lifted it again.

The burn was gone.

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nikaranikita · 8 months

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Finnpoe thoughts: just watching Criminal Minds s12e14 and suddenly I need an FBI agent Poe Dameron framed into a murder and a stern young lawyer Finn who shoves him around yet defends him like a lion

Or just simply FBI/Lawyer AU

#finnpoe #stormpilot #poe dameron #finn #criminal minds #inspiration #the fic I will never write #still it is in my head now

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nonhumanhottie · 9 months

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And, lover, be good to me

Finnpoe one shot. 700 words. Kisses and fluff. AO3 link ~~~ Poe is up late and Finn needs to wrangle him to bed

There’s always work to do, and Poe doesn’t know how to do things in moderation.

It’s well into the night cycle, and the command centre is near-empty. Poe is at a terminal, reading reconnaissance reports on First Order-controlled systems in the Outer Rim. Despite the crushed leadership, the remaining officers hold on tight. Poe pours over the data, examining strategies to free these systems (and then also prevent them from falling into the hands of Outer Rim crime syndicates).

It’s never-ending. Poe’s eyes burn and he stops every few minutes to roughly rub his face. He could delegate this role to someone else; he trusts the command team. But if he wasn’t working on this, he’d be throwing himself into something else. He can’t sleep. There are ghosts in his room and echoes in the hallways. Victory was a fleeting sensation, and the adrenaline has long since worn off.

He keeps reading, bouncing one leg to keep himself awake. He considers stims, but that’s a habit he was proud to break; he can’t get caught up in that again.

Someone approaches the terminal. Poe’s stomach curls. At this hour, it must be someone presenting bad news. It’s always bad news.

He turns and Finn is standing there, holding a mug. ‘Oh, man, it’s worse than I thought,’ he says. ‘You look terrible.’

Poe wants to laugh, but it catches in his throat. He coughs. ‘I’m fine.’ He rubs his face again. ‘I mean, I’m not. But, you know.’

‘I have caf,’ Finn says, offering the mug. ‘I still don’t know how you like it, and unsweetened, too.’

Poe waves his hand vaguely. ‘Yeah, thanks, uh, just put it on the desk.’

Finn does so. ‘The caf is only for if I fail to convince you to go to bed.’

‘How’re you gonna do that?’ Poe asks, swallowing a yawn. He can’t prove Finn’s point for him.

‘For starters, sleep is important. Especially for a pilot.’

Poe snorts and returns to the screen. ‘You kidding? I’d kill to be in my ship right now.’

‘No one is stopping you.’

‘I’m stopping me.’ Poe holds up his hand. ‘Which isn’t a good reason, I know. Sleeping comes hard, though. I just. I just gotta keep going.’

‘I thought the point of making me your co-general was so you didn’t have to do this alone.’

Poe’s head jerks up. Finn isn’t upset; in fact, he’s smiling, patient and knowing. Still, Poe cringes and drags his hands down his cheeks. ‘I’m not. I wasn’t trying to—’

Finn leans down and kisses him. It’s very abrupt and more forward than Poe expected. It’s a little awkward but warm and comforting. Poe falls into it, and sighs, weary, wanting. He’s glad Finn initiates kisses now, a sign that the constraint of the First Order had forever washed away. A sign that Finn belongs right here with Poe, with the Resistance.

It’s exhausting work to clean up a galaxy so fractured and Poe doesn’t think he’s going to get a good night’s sleep for a long, long time. But Finn is beside him, his co-general. Finn grew into a leader, selfless and level-headed, the traits Leia was trying to guide out of Poe. Hell, Finn is probably a better leader than him, and he understands moderation.

With some exceptions. When Poe responds to the kiss by opening his mouth and touching Finn’s arm, Finn doubles his efforts. His tongue prods, pushes past Poe’s lips and he cups Poe’s cheeks. The worry melts away, for now, and Poe touches Finn’s waist. He chases Finn’s mouth until they’re both standing, pressed together, panting. For a brief moment, the galaxy is very small and very warm.

They pull apart, but not too far. Finn noses at his cheek, embraces him gently. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Like I just kissed a beautiful guy.’

Finn chuckles quietly. ‘The feeling is mutual, pal.’ He gestures his chin at the desk. ‘You gonna drink the caf I graciously made you?’

‘Unless you’re gonna offer me something better?’

‘Right this way,’ Finn says, nudging Poe’s lower back.

Poe follows, arm around Finn, and allows himself to enjoy this small, warm part of the galaxy.

#poe dameron #finn star wars #finnpoe #stormpilot #star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars sequel fic #fanfic #leshi writes #leshi drabble

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poedamerons-wife · 8 months

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Ok guys this is my first post on here and also like the first fix I’ve wrote so this will be pretty bad

This is how TROS should’ve ended

THIS IS A FINNPOE FIC

Poe got out of his X-wing, he was the happiest he’s ever been but he was nervous. Poe immediately began walking, his eyes searching the crowd of people crying,kissing,hugging,and reuniting with loved ones with such relief. Poe needed to find Finn. Poe had had feelings for Finn since he saved him on Jakku,Poe had decided that after the war is when he would act on these feelings towards Finn. And it happend,the war was finally over,they won. Poe knew what he had to do. Poe walked through joyous people,that gave him confidence.

Then he saw him, he saw Finn. Finn had the biggest smile Poe had ever scene on his face,he was just as happy as the next person. Poe and Finn made eye contact through the crowd of happy people. Poe heart exploded with anticipation. Finn began to run towards Poe. He pointed at Finn as Poe took the back of Finns neck in his good arm and Finn embraced Poe tightly,both laughing.

This was it. This was Poes chance to act on his feelings towards Finn. Poe pulled away from the hug but keeping his hand wrapped around Finn. Poe looked deep into Finns eyes before pulling him into a kiss,to Poes surprise Finn kissed him back. Rey,trying to find her friends looked through the crowd. Then she saw them, her best friends happy. Rey had knew that the two have had feelings for each other forever, she was happy to see them together. Poe pulled away from the kiss keeping his forehead on Finns. Their eyes were closed and their smiles so big. Poe pulled away grabbing Finns hand to find Rey. They found Rey and ran towards each other,and hugged deeply all happy to be alive and with each other.

Okay ik that wasn’t good but like it’s how the movie should’ve gone

#finnpoe #star wars #stormpilot #finnpoe fic #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #star wars fic #finn star wars #finn x poe #oscar isaac #john boyega

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thaliaisalesbian · 26 days

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Fic Masterpost

In chronological order by fandom.

Many of these are whump fics, and not all of the work warnings are mentioned here, read at your own risk.

green = ongoing

orange = nsfw

red = not complete, currently inactive

Maze Runner Masterpost

Percy Jackson

Demigods at Hogwarts

Annabeth/Percy, Jason/Piper, Thalia/Reyna, Hazel/Frank, Caylpso/Leo, Clarisse/Chris, Nico/Will, Hermione/Luna/Ginny, Draco/Harry Ten demigods are going on a quest, this time to Hogwarts. They're going in blind, and have no idea what the place is like or who they'll meet. Hermione and Harry are pursing tentive relationships. Ron is grieving his brother's death, coming to terms with a few things, and helping George with his shop.

dance, dance (the night away)

Annabeth/Percy Percy throws Annabeth a birthday party.

free floating

Annabeth/Percy Annabeth is determined not to let Percy win Capture the Flag tonight. She'll fight him if she has to! She doesn't get that far.

forever (on my lips)

Annabeth/Percy; MCD with an eventual happy ending. Annabeth wants to know, wants to know why. Why now, why him, why them? (she never gets her answers but she does get her peace.)

no more demons (in my head)

Annabeth/Percy, Clarisse & Annabeth, Clarisse & Percy Percy and Annabeth had a good night out, everything was going well. Until it wasn't. And Percy didn't know why.

(don't) pull your stitches

Annabeth/Percy, Thalia & Percy; Hidden Injury. Percy is tired. Why do all of these monsters have to be angry at the same time? Can't they plan a schedule or something?

forever and always

Annabeth/Percy Annabeth is kidnapped, but she's a badass who gets herself out of it.

these monsters (can't keep you)

Annabeth/Percy Percy has been taken by the gods yet again, and this time, he's stuck in a maze, fighting for his life. Annabeth has to watch him as he begins running out of time.

I thought I saw a sign (somewhere between the lines)

Annabeth/Percy, Annabeth & Clarisse, Percy & Clarisse; Emotional Hurt/Comfort Annabeth isn't sure, now, what she'd ever really seen in Percy. Not as a person, but as a boyfriend. After Tartarus, after everything. It's understandable, but she's not going to let him keep treating her this way. She deserves better than a boyfriend who can't seem to stand her presence, even if she might have thought before that they were happy. Annabeth just wants one thing in her life to be good, to be permanent. She thought that might be Percy. Now, she's not so sure. As they near the one-year anniversary of the battle against Gaea, Annabeth has been pulling away. After all that’s happened, it’s understandable. But, because of that, he’s having a harder and harder time squishing down the voice in the back of his head that says she's rethinking their relationship. Percy just wants Annabeth to talk to him, to figure things out. He thought they were past avoidance and pushing each other away. Now, he's not so sure.

Light will guide you home

Annabeth/Percy, Annabeth & Percy & Grover, Annabeth & Percy & Thalia, Annabeth & Clarisse & Percy. Post-HOO, Torture, Hurt/Comfort. You know how sometimes you think a bad day can't get any worse, and then it somehow does? Percy and Annabeth were trying to make a bad day better, only for it all to go wrong.

When It's Dire

Annabeth/Percy, Thalia & Annabeth & Percy; Injury recovery and blood, post-HOO. Percy's got to be tired; he's been doing this all day. Annabeth just has to get to him, and then it'll all be fine.

MCU

explosions got nothing on migraines

Tony/T'Challa Tony and Shuri set off an explosion on accident.

better than you (forever and always)

Tony/T'Challa; Carol & Tony Tony works himself into delirium and doesn't know that Carol's alive, so when she shows up... well, there are some issues with that.

for you (and coffee), a bullet wound is nothing

Tony/T'Challa; No Powers AU T'Challa is just trying to get a coffee, go to a meeting, and then wrap up his day by calling his family. Too bad the man in front of him seems to be a target.

bad ideas

Female!Tony, Tony & Shuri Shuri and Toni get kidnapped and Shuri is awesome.

blood isn't too bad (unless you die)

Tony/T'Challa, Shuri & T'Challa, Tony & Shuri Shuri, Tony, and T'Challa are on a trip and they get kidnapped. Shuri remains awesome.

stay here (in my thoughts)

Tony/T'Challa Of course they had to fight Doom, and of course he had to leave a radiation cloud behind. It would have been too easy for him to just leave them an exit. (How much would have changed, T'Challa will ask himself later, if it hadn't been there?)

as the day bleeds on

Tony/T'Challa; Endgame Fix-it Tony doesn't know how long he's been out for, but he's back now, and he's going to recover, dammit.

over and over and over again, i wake up here

Nick Fury & Tony, Carol & Tony Tony gets kidnapped, again, and has to get himself out, again. There are just some... complications, we'll say, along the way.

Star Wars

chains? they cannot hold you, dear

Poe/Finn, Leia & Finn, Poe & Finn & Rey; Force-sensitive Finn Finn volunteers for an infiltration mission, which somehow proceeds as planned. It's lucky that he has damn good pilot for a boyfriend and an entire Resistance ready to back him up when he needs it most.

she blinks and i'm lost, lost, lost

Poe/Finn; accidental baby acquisition. A normal recruiting mission turns into a special type of rescue mission.

Criminal Minds

seven for a secret

Derek/Spencer, JJ/Will, Will & Derek, Will & Spencer, Derek & Emily & Spencer Will doesn't want to watch JJ's family--his family, his friends, too--fall apart more than they already have. So he takes matters into his own hands, to ensure they won't be going to another funeral this year. Majorly inspired by Butterbeerandbutterknives’s fic One for Sorrow. Actually, it's set in their fic. Highly suggest reading that first; it's fantastic.

bleeding hands and beating hearts

Derek/Spencer This has been a hard case--the unsubs are dropping off videotapes of the victims hours before the bodies are found. They know everything these victims are going though. Spencer's been missing since he left the hotel this morning. Derek doesn't want to think about what's on the tape with his name on it. (see end notes for more detailed trigger warnings)

giant owls: not as good for cuddling as you'd think

Derek/Spencer, Emily & Spencer Emily's exhausted, and worried. They all are. It's been a hard couple of months--nonstop cases, and the LEOs seem to dislike them more than usual lately. It doesn't help that Spencer is already seen as an easy target, and when he's not cleared for field work? Things only get worse. "And there’s Spencer, soaking wet. “Oh, god, Spence!” JJ gasps. Derek’s already moving, wrapping his jacket around his shivering boyfriend and carefully probing at his head. “What happened, Reid?” Hotch asks, moving to help Derek settle Spencer on the couch. Spencer’s eyes are unfocused, and he’s not tracking movement well. Derek can’t fight the sinking feeling in his stomach as he realizes what’s going on."

guns raised (don't fire)

Derek/Spencer "The door opens again, and Spencer abruptly turns and backhands Hotch. Oh, God, this better not be what Derek thinks it is. “Come on, then.” The man in the door grabs Spencer by the shoulder and leads him away. “Hotch, what’s going on?” Derek asks." Being kidnapped? Not fun. Being one of four of your team kidnapped by at least three unsubs? Even worse. All Derek can do is hope that Spencer's plan works.

Original Work

bled dry (i wish)

Vampirism is seen as a curse. Hurt/No Comfort Prompt: Chestnut, short hair slightly covers a lean, menacing face. Dead brown eyes, set dreadfully within their sockets, watch guardedly over the tribes they've safeguarded for so long. A goatee graciously compliments his cheeks and leaves a bittersweet memory of his reckless luck. This is the face of Orlando Hanson, a true dreamer among vampires. He stands oddly among others, despite his tough frame. There's something different about him, perhaps it's his sense of honor or perhaps it's simply his personality. But nonetheless, people tend to socialize with him, while spreading rumors about him behind his back. Or: Orlando Hanson gets a short backstory. And neither he nor Hanson Victor are quite the victims or villains that they each think they are.

to break a fence (to kill a man)

MCD; Hurt/No Comfort. No dialogue. Prompt: Seth Ostler is a man in his late twenties, who is very adventurous. He comes from a wealthy background, lives in a rough neighborhood and tends to a huge collection of potted plants. Seth's adventures these days consist of the walk to work and back. It certainly scares him enough to feel like it could be a dream. Turns out, the walk isn't what he should be afraid of.

Stranger Things

silver lining

Spicy Six Polycule; only Eddie/Steve/Jonathan seen. Scene gone wrong with safeword use. Eddie wants to try tying someone up. Steve volunteers. For all their talks about it, though, he doesn't mention his biggest fear about it. @rememberthatiloveyou for more discussion on this (and any other nsfw fics)

i get myself twisted in threads

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24

Jonathan/Steve/Nancy, Steve & Everyone; Post-Season 2. Blood and injury, hurt/comfort, some fluff mixed in with the angst Jonathan wants to rush after Steve, to explain, but there's no time. Not when the kids have found another gate, not when there's more than his love life at stake. Now he might never get a chance to explain. Or: Steve walks into a conversation between Jonathan and Nancy at just the wrong time, and then everything gets worse (because Steve's just gone and tried to die for them, and this time, they might not get him back.)

loved you never (mourning forever)

Jonathan & Steve; unhappy ending. Steve's fine. He's always fine, he's the one who takes the hits and gets back up. Sure, this might be a harder hit than most, but he'll manage… as long as no one else catches on. (Jonathan might ruin that for him.)

Delicately Intertwined

Jonathan/Steve/Nancy; Post-S4, subdrop, sickfic After so long apart, and with everything that's happened, Jonathan's just eager to see his both of his partners alive and well. The 'well' part turns out to be highly debatable, and not as easily fixable as Jonathan would like it to be.

your presence still lingers here

Robin & Steve; Implied Torture and experimentation. Post-S4, vaguely, Magic AU. Samuel is not sure that this lordling's so-called mission is actually a mission. (all steve had ever wanted was to protect them) Robin just wants Steve back, and now that they're so close, she's not going to let anything stop her from saving him.

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