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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 4 years

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Survivors of Unfair Choices (12) | FirstOrder!Poe Dameron x Reader

Words: 1742

Warning: SW-verse typical violence, minor swearing

A/N: I’ve finally caught up in writing this series. Thank you for your patience. I had other things to say for this section but this whole queuing thing has been giving me a hard time and I accidentally deleted this the first time.

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You led them through the makeshift command center hidden deep among the vines and roots of the greenery, walking in first. Leia stood at the center, her face illuminated by the holoprojector table as she’s surrounded by other Resistance officers. She looks up and smiles at you.

“General Organa, I’m sorry to interrupt,” you said, stepping towards the table before gesturing to your companions, “This is Finn and Poe. They need to talk to you-”

“Oh, I’ve met Poe, of course. And I need to talk to Finn,” Leia said, stepping forward and grabbing Finn’s hand. “That was incredibly brave, what you did. Renouncing the First Order, saving my commander's life-”

Finn was taken aback. “Thank you ma’am,” he said. You gently scooted him closer and encouraged him to continue, “but a friend of ours was taken prisoner-”

Leia nodded. “Han told me about the girl. I’m sorry.”

Finn looked over at Han, surprised that he would have even been concerned by it. Perhaps, he was used to the First Order’s mentality, where being compromised made you a lost cause and they’d sooner abandon you when you’ve lost your worth.

“General, we’re both familiar with the weapon that destroyed the Hosnian system,” Poe stepped in, patting Finn on the shoulder.

Leia hummed. “We’re desperate for anything that you can tell us,” Leia said, drawing the attention towards the two men.

You stepped to the side, standing between Leia and Han. The smuggler gave you a nudge and smirked.

“So the First Order’s poster boy with the curls, huh?” he muttered under his breath.

You jabbed his side with your elbow, feeling like you were in the academy again, talking while the teacher was giving a lecture. Luckily, Leia’s focus was on Finn and Poe. The defectors. The newly recruited members of the Resistance. Your new friend and your new… boyfriend? You caught Poe’s eyes from across the table, causing a small smile to form on both of your lips before he turned his attention back to Finn. Right, there was a war going on right now. At least you were now on the same side of the war. You didn’t know how you’d manage it if you were to face him in battle as enemies after everything that happened, being stranded on that planet with him. Would he still follow orders?

C-3PO inserted the data device from BB-9 into the base computer, projecting a holographic map. Leia walks around the map, studying it closely in case she missed anything, but she hadn’t. Her face fell, knowing that all that effort to retrieve it, the sacrifices made, resulted in an incomplete map.

C-3PO spoke up, only confirming what everyone could see, “General, I regret to inform you, but this map recovered from BB-9 is only partially complete. And even worse, it matches no charted system on record. We simply do not have enough information to locate Master Luke.”

Leia nodded somberly. “I can't believe I was so foolish to think that I could just find Luke and bring him home.”

Han frowned. “Leia…,” he started.

“Don’t do that,” Leia shot out, pointing at him.

“Do what?”

Leia started to head off. “Anything,” she said over her shoulder.

You sighed. Although you were glad to see them talking, you’d prefer it under better circumstances. “We’ll resume the meeting once we receive the reconnaissance report on the enemy base. Then, we’ll discuss how to proceed,” you told everyone.

They all nodded, understanding the situation that the General and Han are in. A few Resistance members that were part of the inner circle came over to welcome you back, knowing that you did your best in retrieving the map. No one knew if the map was retrievable, that it would be simple enough to show exactly where Luke Skywalker was, but there was hope. Although it was incomplete, it was something.

You walked over to your boys who had watched the entire interaction between the couple and you with the other members, your hands held behind your back.

“Are they going to be alright?” Finn asked, looking over to where Han and Leia left.

You nodded. “They just need to talk some things out,” you said, then smiled, “How did it feel to have the attention of the room?”

Finn let out a short laugh. “It was nerve wracking and… exhilarating.”

“First day with the Resistance and you’re already talking amongst the higher-ups,” Poe teased.

“And what about you?” Finn pointed out, “Flying with the Resistance, heading a squadron, and already on speaking terms with General Leia?”

Poe shrugged. “They needed a pilot and their commander was busy stealing the Millenium Falcon with a stormtrooper, a scavenger, and two droids.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are not about to steal my squadron,” you told him.

“I don’t know, (Y/n/n), they seem to like me,” he smirked, “I guess I’m that charming, though, they did threaten to kill me if I hurt you.”

Finn scrunched his nose. “Please stop this, you two. Not sure what I want to be in the middle of, an arguing married couple or a flirty new couple.”

When Han and Leia finished with their talk, you cautiously approached the two, wondering if you were stepping out of bounds. They both turned to you, knowing you had something on your mind. Han pulled out a crate for you to sit across from him before taking a spot next to Leia.

“How are you doing, kid?” Han asked. “Although it’s not a complete map, you did bring back some valuable assets. You did good, kid.”

You forced yourself to smile, thinking about the village that the First Order attacked when they came to retrieve the map. “Can’t save everyone, only save who you can, even if it’s just one person, right?” you said.

Leia reached over and squeezed your hand. “Lor San Tekka is an old and loyal friend of ours. He knew what was at risk when he gave us the map,” she said, “We can’t let his sacrifice go out in vain. We just need to keep going and find something else.”

You nodded, then swallowed. “Um, when the First Order attacked the village… I saw Kylo Ren… Ben. He… do you think… have you ever tried to reach out to him again? Forgive me, I-”

“No, no, I understand where you’re coming from,” Leia assured you.

“It’s just that… I am sure that there is some light within him,” you said, “This doesn’t erase what he’s done, but maybe there’s a way to stop him from straying further down this dark path. I am in no way a jedi or anything. I’m just a regular human who flies X-Wings, but I think one of the reasons why he’s so… angry is the fact that he knows there’s light in him and he thinks it’s a weakness. If you don’t mind me asking, General, what exactly happened that caused this?”

The couple exchanged a tired and sad look. When Leia didn’t speak, Han stepped forward and said, “Sending him away to train with Luke might not have been enough for him to see the light.”

“Surely something must have happened for him to turn to the dark side?” you said.

Leia shook her head. “Luke went into exile after the temple was destroyed. We don’t know exactly what happened.”

“Maybe if we reach him and-”

“Why are you so insistent on this, kid?” Han frowned.

You looked up at him. “I escaped a Star Destroyer with the help of a stormtrooper and a commander of the First Order. I encountered Kylo Ren on that ship and he tried to search my mind for the map and I resisted as much as I could and I thought of you, General. You still have an effect on him. Maybe he’s lost and the only one that had reached him at his most vulnerable point was Snoke.”

Leia squeezed your hand again. “It’s been a while since I’ve tried to reach him and it might take a lot of energy from me,” she said sadly.

“If we could find Luke, is it possible?”

“Maybe.”

Finn had taken his place at the map table, showing a holographic image of the Starkiller base he worked at while surrounded by the inner circle members of the Resistance. You crossed your arms, standing between Poe and Snap.

“The scan data from Snap’s reconnaissance flight confirms Finn’s report,” you said, looking at the wireframe hologram.

Snap nodded. “They've somehow created a hyper lightspeed weapon built within the planet itself,” he added.

“A laser cannon?” Major Brance inquired, crossing his arms.

Snap pursed his lips. “We’re not sure how to describe a weapon of this scale.”

Major Ematt’s eyes widened in horror. “It’s another Death Star,” he gasped.

Poe and Finn exchanged a grave look with Poe shaking his head. “I wish that were the case, Major,” he said.

He nodded over to you, prompting you to press the control. A wireframe of the Death Star appeared on the hologram table. Poe shifted, standing closer to you as he continued with his arms crossed.

“This is the Death Star,” he pointed.

You pressed another control. The image of the Death Star started to shrink and shrink and shrink as the image of the Starkiller Base grew. It made the Death Star seem like a mere moon orbiting a planet. The others began to gasp and whisper. You shook your head, seeing the entire image for the first time. Poe squeezed your hand firmly and it was then you realized how sweaty your palms became.

“This… is the Starkiller Base.”

Han frowned, placing his hands on his hips. It was a lot bigger than expected and it was no secret that hope was draining out of the meeting room the longer they looked at the Starkiller Base. He cleared his throat and shrugged nonchalantly.

“So it’s big,” he said.

Admiral Ackbar stepped forward. “How is it possible to power a weapon of this size?”

“It uses the power of the sun,” Finn answered, “As the weapon is charged, the sun is drained until it disappears.”

An officer rushes over to Leia with a datacard. Leia grabbed it quickly, her eyes scanning through it. The room was quiet as they waited for the news. “The First Order,” she began, “they're charging the weapon again, now… Our system is the next target.”

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#Survivors of Unfair Choices #First Order!Poe Dameron x Resistance!Reader #First Order!Poe Dameron #poe dameron x reader #Poe Dameron #Star wars imagine

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pitz182 · 5 years

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My Recovery Journey: From Trauma and Abuse to Understanding and Forgiveness

I always wanted to be a writer. I started writing in the fifth grade and wrote many short stories. I lacked imagination (or maybe it was too vivid, I’m not sure), and so I took my inspiration from stories already written. Most of what I wrote as a child was straight out of Judy Blume books. I couldn’t have picked characters more different from my own family.In Blume’s books, even the most challenging issues were always solved with a hug and a huge dose of love and encouragement. I would share these stories I “wrote” with my class and not only was it obvious I’d stolen the plots from Blume’s books, but nobody was fooled that my home life resembled these Leave It To Beaver-esque families.The black and blues on my little body had a way of telling a different story.A Concerned TeacherAfter about the fourth or fifth story, trying to pass off some fictional family as my own, my teacher—who’d taught my two older brothers before me—asked me to stay after class. He asked if everything at home was okay. He knew my brothers were hellions, the products of an abusive father and a drink-at-home mom.Unlike my brothers, though, I was a good girl. I had never once acted out—until that day. I had learned how to stay out of the way of my father’s explosive trigger hand. I was also a master at avoiding my mother after her third glass of “candy.”I felt cornered. I had to get out of there.I looked at my teacher square in the eyes and said, “You have no fucking clue what’s going on in my home. Stay the fuck away from me!” I flipped over a few chairs and desks before I grabbed my knapsack and ran out of his classroom. I was kind of half-crying, half-raging. I had never become unglued before. I was always the one my parents could count on to be polite and obedient, no matter what.My oldest brother was waiting for me outside school. He noticed I was on the verge of hyperventilating.“What happened?” Marco* asked.“Mr. Brendel asked if things were okay at home. I don’t know why he thought that. I have never been anything but what everyone expects me to be. What’s happening??”“I’ll take care of it,” Marco told me.And he did. I was never in trouble over the incident, and two days later Mr. Brendel apologized and we never discussed it again. Marco told me grownups weren’t stupid, and they knew things weren’t as peachy at home as they were in my fairytale stories. And then he said something that scared me: “Adults are going to want to help you. Accept their help. At some point I won’t be able to protect you.”My Brother’s Advice“What do you mean? You’ll always be here to protect me.” I fought back tears.“I won’t, Sarah. One day you’ll have to make your own decisions, and all I can do is guide you to make the best ones—for you and nobody else. I’ll be here as long as I can, but the sooner you can be independent, the better. One day you’ll wake up and see how fucked up things are at home. Don’t fear that day. Welcome it and get help.”I continued as the dutiful little girl living in my bubble and writing stories about people who bore no resemblance to my family. But when I turned 16, I decided I didn’t want to live at home after I graduated. Both my brothers were already out of the house.I looked into having myself emancipated. I even talked with a lawyer. While my brothers were tired of carrying the weight of responsibility, I was ready to be an adult, living on my own.My godmother and aunt convinced me to defer college for a year. Instead, they recommended therapy. I was reminded of the conversation I’d had with Marco outside my elementary school years earlier, so I took their advice.I graduated from high school and got a job in a photocopy shop. I paid for therapy and, by working six days a week, I saved enough for first and last month’s rent and a security deposit on a future apartment.I moved out of my parents’ house when I was 17, but it wasn’t exactly how I’d planned. I got this bug up my ass to do an intervention on my mother, but I had no idea what I was doing. It blew up in my face with my mother kicking me out of the house. Talk about an epic fail.But it was the first time I realized how protective of one’s addiction someone can be.I was estranged from both of my brothers and my parents. It felt right. I was (and still am) eternally grateful to my oldest brother for taking care of me growing up, but he’d started drinking heavily—like our mom. And the other one had graduated to bigger and badder drugs. He discovered cocaine.PTSD and an Abusive RelationshipWhile in therapy, I was diagnosed with PTSD and a panic disorder. As my brother promised, just because I pushed all that shit away didn’t mean it never happened. As my mom used to say all the time, “You push it down here, it comes up there,” meaning you can run from something for only so long. I had to deal with the dysfunction I grew up in, and I had to work really hard to keep myself from repeating their mistakes.Sometimes echoes of that dysfunction showed up in my life despite my best efforts. My boyfriend at the time started using coke and became abusive. How had I chosen someone who was a perverse combination of both my parents? I was trying to figure out a way to leave without him coming for me. With his continued coke use, he was paranoid and controlling. I hadn’t communicated to him or anyone else my intention to leave but somehow, he knew.I was taking a creative writing class, and the first assignment was to write an essay using five descriptions to portray a person or an event. The professor gave us just one bit of instruction: “Show, don’t tell.” The next time I was in my boyfriend’s car, leaving Manhattan for his place in Brooklyn, I paid close attention.The tires slicked against the wet pavement; it had rained while we were in the midtown Manhattan movie theatre. Focused on the road in front of him, his left hand was on the steering wheel. He tilted his head slightly to meet the outstretched fingers on his right hand, so he could twist his newly forming dreadlocs. He turned his still tilted head very slowly to look at me. His forehead wrinkled, and his eyes like big beads of brown glass, narrowed. He peered at me from over his wireframe glasses. He said, “Mookie, I have loved you my entire life. Even before I knew you, I loved you. The thought of you no longer being in my life scares me. I can never let that happen. Besides, nobody will ever love you like I do: not your parents and definitely not your brothers.” He didn’t look at me long enough to see my reaction. He was like a dog who sensed fear and he was prepared to act on it. Now, with his eyes back on the road, his voice lacked emotion. “Mookie, I can make life for you as sweet as honey or as bitter as unsweetened cocoa. It’s all in your power.” After I finished reading my essay aloud, I looked around the classroom. The instructor and other students all had very large eyes. One student said, “Um, Sarah, that scared the shit out of me. You are planning on leaving him, aren’t you?”I wanted to leave, but I didn’t realize just how serious he was about preventing me from going. As his coke use escalated, he became more violent and things ended very badly. A few years ago, I finally admitted to people how bad things had gotten between us. My very first published piece is a personal essay about the last violent moments we were together. Trigger warning!It’s no surprise to me that even with seven years of therapy I still chose an abusive addict as a partner. What else had I known growing up the way I did? Both my parents died without any reconciliation between us. My mother, who never stopped drinking and smoked four packs of cigarettes a day, died suddenly of a stroke when I was 27. My father died eight years later of cancer. I never had the chance to reconcile with my mother, so I tried very hard to correct this with my father. But it takes two people, and he wasn’t willing.Understanding and ForgivenessAlthough I hadn’t consciously chosen an addict for a partner, I understand why I did. People have asked me whether I blame my mother, brothers, and my ex-boyfriend. Much as I want to, I can’t. There are many misconceptions about growing up in a home with an addict or an alcoholic, and while it might seem my brothers embody all those misconceptions, I also know for a fact that nobody chooses to become an addict and that many times it’s the result of trying to escape the realities of one’s surroundings. I believe my mother drank because she married a mean and abusive person who prevented her from realizing her dream of being a writer. Given the environment I grew up in and the likelihood of an inherited gene, I could easily have become an alcoholic. Because I had relatives who intervened and I started therapy early on, I believe I was spared and that I must forgive rather than blame. This includes my ex-boyfriend, who saw his father get drunk every Friday night and beat the crap out of his mother.As I evolved, I became better at taking care of myself and 18 years ago, I married a really wonderful man who is the antithesis of my ex-boyfriend. He’s the only person outside of my therapist who knows my entire story.I also tried to reconcile with both my brothers. Marco quit drinking 15 years ago, so I thought there was hope. But I quickly discovered he was white-knuckling it. I think he’s still angry about losing his childhood so he could be our full-time caregiver. My other brother quit using cocaine after he overdosed, but he still drinks heavily.They both know I’ll be here when they’re ready.

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emlydunstan · 5 years

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My Recovery Journey: From Trauma and Abuse to Understanding and Forgiveness

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8241841 https://www.thefix.com/my-recovery-journey-trauma-and-abuse-understanding-and-forgiveness

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alexdmorgan30 · 5 years

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My Recovery Journey: From Trauma and Abuse to Understanding and Forgiveness

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8241841 http://bit.ly/2GrxNQk

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