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padfootagain · 4 years

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Snowstorm and Sabacc

Here I come again with a new fic for my winter event! I used our favourite reckless pilot Poe Dameron to write the snowstorm trope :)

Just a lot of fluff, I hope you all like it!

Gif not mine

Word Count :2778

"You know, when I said that I was tired of waiting around in the base and longed for some fresh air, I didn’t mean an air that fresh."

Poe merely chuckled, the sound carried away by the loud wind that roared through the branches of the trees around you. You didn’t need to hear his laughter to know that he was laughing, though. You knew him enough to know perfectly well what he was up to.

"I guess General Organa did take your word for it," he spoke loudly to cover the sound of the elements raging all around you.

"By fresh air, I didn’t mean a bleeding blizzard!" you complained just as you walked through some soft snow, your legs buried up to you knee.

You cursed between your teeth, before asking Poe for help. The pilot’s smile that lightened his features was too amused to your liking. But then, you loved when he smiled, even if it was caused by your ridicule, and that made you even madder at him.

"Just help me out, would you?" You shot him a glare as he took your hand and helped you out of the snow.

The walk through the woods was everything but simple. The terrain was rough, and the heavy snow that had been falling non-stop for a couple of weeks didn’t make the situation any easier.

Tall evergreen trees formed the forest, and you were easily lost through their resemblance. The wind turned the atmosphere colder for you than what it really was, and through the snow hitting your cheeks and wetting every inch of your body despite your warm clothes, you were starting to worry about hypothermia. For someone who came from a tropical planet, you found that Poe was surprisingly stern against these elements.

Beyond the trees, the sun was beginning to fall dangerously close to the horizon. The drop in temperatures that would follow could be lethal. And the snowstorm that was only beginning was announced to block all your movements for at least two days. You had to reach that rebel bunker in time.

"It’s not far from here, just a little further," Poe told you, as if reading your mind. "We’ll be there before nightfall."

"And if we’re not?"

"We will be."

You had always admired that side of Poe. The confident, passionate spark that seemed to be always burning behind his brown eyes. No matter how bad the situation looked, he was always the one to contradict the odds. You were a little less optimistic though.

Poe was right though, and you didn’t need so long to reach the shelter the General had promised. You were to retrieve some maps there, and use the bunker as a refuge while the storm passed. The transport coming to pick you up was to show up right after the storm lifted. That gave you two days to relax and try to understand the documents you were here to pick up. You weren’t sure what they were about. You had vaguely understood that it was about Rey, but the rest was unclear.

For now though, all you were worried about was to get to that door and finally be free of these snowflakes and wind.

The chalet was little more than four walls and a roof creaking under the pressure of the elements, threatening to be knocked down at any minute, it was far off from the bunker you had been promised. It stood in the middle of the forest, with no element to make the spot special through the ocean of trees. You wondered why it had been built there of all places. Maybe it was pure luck.

Lichens and other parasite plants grew on the rotting wood that enclosed the safe space. You wondered how the windows could be intact, but despite the dirt covering them, the glass was undamaged. A chimney shot out of one side of the roof, silent and unused. The cabin had been abandoned a long time ago.

Poe forced the door opened, but the rotten wood gave up without much of a fight.

Besides dust, there was a table and a couple of chairs inside, what one would need to cook and a bed. The hearth was empty, but there was some wood by the chimney, and it seemed that there was enough to get you through the night.

"What a delightful room we have," you mumbled, putting your backpack down by the closed door.

"Who could want a suite on Naboo when they can have this!" Poe chuckled.

"A frozen cabin in the middle of a snowstorm. You’re right, it’s much better than a warm bath and a soft bed."

"Come on, grumpy. Give me a hand with the fire, before we both freeze to death for real."

Soon there were red flames in the hearth, and Poe and you settled around the warmth. You reached for the device hidden in your backpack. You turned it on, signalling your position to the resistance.

"How long before the transport arrives after the storm?" you asked Poe.

"A good day," he answered, sniffing. "But first, we cross our fingers and pray the stars that this old shack won’t fall on our heads."

"You’ve got a point," you darkly agreed just as a loud blow shook the whole frame of the house, making every piece of wood crack and shriek in pain.

"Let’s get ready for the night, Y/L/N," he changed the subject, patting your shoulder.

The walls around you cracked again, and you were certain to see them move. You heaved a sigh… why did you have to play the hero and join the resistance in the first place?

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"You know, of all things you could have carried across the galaxy – and I mean all the useful things that we could have used to survive – I can't believe you chose to carry a game of Sabacc."

Poe merely laughed at your remark, and won another game. You heaved a frustrated sigh.

"Lucky we're not waging with money, or I would be broke by now," you pointed out.

"You underestimated your opponent," he joked. "That ought to teach you a lesson."

"Sure does!"

"You know what kind of Sabacc game would have been fun to play, and would have not made you lose all your money?"

"Why do I have a feeling you're going to propose a form of the game where we're supposed to lose our clothes instead…"

"Exactly! Strip Sabacc!"

"That could have been arguably a good idea if we were extremely drunk, if we were not on a frozen planet and a very cold shack, and of course, if Bantas had wings," you replied, rolling your eyes.

"You're no fun, Y/L/N!"

"You're an idiot, Dameron."

Outside the snowstorm raged still, but Poe's game was a good distraction from the roaring wind. The insulation in the cabin was terrible to say the least, and the temperature was very low still, despite a fire now burning in the tiny hearth behind you. You were still wearing as many warm clothes as you could. Despite your need to sleep, the loud wind howling through the branches of the trees all around the cabin made it impossible for both of you to find peace. So, instead, you were playing, waiting for your exhaustion to be overwhelming enough for the two of you to collapse into sleep.

The game started again, but the more time flew by, the less focused you became. Thoughts drifted more and more as your fatigue grew stronger, until your mind settled back on your previous mission.

Of course, it had to. You kept on thinking about that one mission, or more precisely, about that one moment…

Poe and you caught in a crossfire, no back up, BB-8 and your ship taken away, and odds so terribly low even Poe was growing desperate.

Then the flash of red light from the shot of a blaster, bursting through the night, violent contrast with the darkness all around you. Poe falling back against the wall that sheltered both of you, holding his side, slipping down along the bricks to the ground.

You remembered the blood next, your hands pressed against the hole carved in his flesh and skin, trying to stop the liquid from flowing out. But you were failing.

You remembered Poe's reassuring smile, his eyelids drooping closed as his strengths left him, his breathes shallower and shallower every time air left his lungs. And yet, he was smiling.

He was joking about him having a bad day, while you were panicking, not knowing how to save him, what to do, how to get back to base…

He was your best friend, and you had longed for a while now for him to be even more. You couldn't lose him…

You remembered his voice, low and raspy, coming out in breathy whispers distorted with pain as he raised his hand to your cheek.

I guess, if it's my last chance to do it…

And then there were a pair of lips on yours.

You hadn't talked about the whole incident again. While Poe recovered, it seemed inappropriate. And after he had recovered, well… you had missed a couple of opportunities to do so, and you were rarely alone.

You guessed now was probably the best opportunity you would get.

"Poe… I meant to ask you…"

You left your words suspended in mid-air, your sentence unfinished, and the pilot before you merely encouraged you to continue with a curious look.

"About… our last mission together…"

"What about it?"

He didn't seem willing to let his guard down. You wondered if he merely ignored his act as a way to protect himself or if he genuinely didn't remember anything. After all, he was dying at the time.

"Well… do you remember… when you were hurt, you… I mean… Do you remember what happened then?"

"Well, you dragged me away from the fight, bandaged me the best you could. I guess we could say that you saved my life, and I owe you one."

You slowly nodded.

"And… nothing else? You don't remember anything else that happened then? Something that… you did?"

Poe remained silent for a moment, frowning, and he put down his cards. He seemed to focus, searching his memories. You couldn't breathe.

He softly hummed while thinking, and leaned across the tiny table.

"I think I know what you're referring to," he slowly nodded.

"Well… don't you think we ought to talk about it?"

"Do we?"

"I think we do, yes."

"What do you want to say about it then?"

You had to admit that you didn't expect him to react like this, so casually, avoiding the point. You recognized the ghost of an amused smile at the corner of his lips.

You guessed he would make you spit it out yourself, and you hated him for it.

"Well, first thing, I'd like to know if you… I mean…" you stuttered, tripping upon your own words and your heartbeat erratic in your chest. "Did you mean that? I mean… you kissed me. Did you mean it or was it… just… a kiss because you thought you were dying and you would have kissed basically anyone who was there?"

His smile grew more evident, pulled from the shadows to shed a bright light on the room. There was a mix of tenderness and amusement painted all over his features that made you forget about the storm outside, that quietened the roaring wind and the snow smashed against the windows. The threat of the First Order suddenly felt remote, too far to be relevant now. But then, Poe had always had this effect on you. Just one of his smiles made you feel perfectly safe.

"You think I spend all my free time kissing strangers around the galaxy?" he asked back with a joking tone.

But you were not in a mood for laughing it off.

"No, but you were dying."

"Right… losing lots of blood too, if I remember right."

"Exactly! Perhaps you weren't thinking straight."

He remained silent for a moment, before reaching for your hand. His hold was reassuring and warm, calloused fingers brushing softly against the back of your hand. And while you stared at his dark brown eyes, looking almost black in the dim light shed by the burning flames, the world around you vanished, disappearing to leave only his gaze. When he answered, his voice was low and as warm as the flames by your side.

"Maybe I was thinking more clearly than I ever have before."

You stopped breathing altogether.

"What?"

He heaved a sigh.

"I… I've felt like this for a long time. Didn't mean to blow up our friendship, our team, though. Plus… a war isn't the best place to get involved in a relationship. But then, I almost died and… It sounds cliché, but dying does make you realize a thing or two. Like… the fact that it's worth taking the risk. I've been hiding my feelings for so long, and maybe the secret is not worth the stakes. Perhaps the leap of faith is worth the risk to fall. I know the war is making everything harder, and I know that we're friends but… I haven't seen you as a mere friend in a long, long time."

He gave you a sad smile, releasing a long breath he didn't even know he was holding, and he surprised you as you found withheld tears shining in his dark brown eyes.

"No matter what you say now, you can't imagine how good it feels to let it all out," he chuckled, out of breath.

You only noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks when you felt their salty taste pass your lip.

"That's a hell of a confession, Dameron," you smiled through your tears.

"You want a hell of a confession?" he asked, tightening his hold on your fingers. "How about: I love you, Y/N?"

It was your turn to tighten your hold on his hand. You were trapped in his dark, almost black irises because you could see the truth in his gaze, you could hear his honesty in his soft tone, feel how genuine his touch was. And you knew that he meant it all.

"We were kind of stupid to wait for so long, right?" you asked, brushing your tears away and grinning instead.

"Is that the beginning of a confession I hear, Y/L/N?"

You were about to speak again when the wind blew stronger than before, and the noise was so loud that you couldn't ignore it. The shout creaked through the branches of the trees, high-pitched and low at the same time, almost a human voice coming out of the shadows. Your belief in the Force made you wonder if it was a spirit of some kind. Both you and Poe had looked at the window in a jolt, but the sound slowly waned, swallowed by the night again. You focused on Poe again as you heard the table being pushed aside to allow him to get closer to you.

"It's just the wind," he whispered, and you were painfully aware of how close his face had come to yours now. "It's just a storm. It will pass, like all storms do."

You smiled again.

"Well, you've been a storm blowing upon my life for years, and you give me no sign that you'll pass any time soon."

He chuckled, and nodded in response.

"Some kind of storms are good to have around," he argued.

"You know what? I think that for once, you're right."

Your two smiles widened at the joke, and his face was now close enough to yours for you to feel his warm breath against your lips.

"I think I've got an idea or two for us to pass the time while this storm outside rages on," he offered.

"What could that be?"

"A surprise I think you'll like it."

"Really?"

"Really."

You let him lean closer, and closer, and closer until your lips brushed, touched, intertwined.

When you eventually broke away, the words escaped you without giving you a chance to hold them back.

"I love you, Poe."

The pilot could only grin.

"I hoped you'd say that."

The next moment, his lips were on yours again, your fingers lost in his dark curls, and his arms wrapped around you to draw you closer, impossibly close. The game of Sabacc was left disregarded next to you, the snowstorm forgotten, even the war seemed too far to be cared for.

It was just the two of you. And it was enough.

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lancelotchronicler · 4 years

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So a friend introduced me to “Humans are space orcs” and...

It gave me emotions. Specifically the post by @soprana-snap , it gave me a LOT of emotions. Pardon if this looks rushed or like I was having a hard time seeing the keyboard. I kinda did.

We, The Titans.

“Shot?” “Seven times, mostly superficial flesh wounds but he's lost a lot of blood from one penetrative wound and needs a transfusion.”

“Damnit. Get him fixed and get A'rool to start scanning for another deposit as soon as scanners are back online!”

Voices swirled around Alex's head as he passed in and out of consciousness, he could hear his Captain yelling but it wasn't until he heard A'Rool's name that the pieces fell together. Groaning from the stinging pain of the gunshot wounds in his arms and sides, Alex started sitting up in the medical bed which caused everyone to rush over and try to keep him down.

“You've been badly injured, Alex! Please, lay down!” The second voice again, this time Alex was able to wipe the blood from his eyes to see the second in command, P'tuure, squeezing with all her might to try and keep him on the bed which amounted to a very weak grip to the human.

Alex pushed P'tuure's arm away, reached into the top pockets of his ripped and bloodstained cargo pants, and produced a small silver oval remote with a singular blue button in the center. He pressed the button, power surged through the ship and the whole thing jerked violently as a massive transport beam dumped over a hundred tons of pure Zanthani crystals into the cargo hold.

“What in the hell was-?!” The second voice, Captain D'tarr, spluttered out as the ship corrected its flight trajectory and the gravity generator recovered. “You're sure? The entire cargo hold? … Atta-Lure's light how...?” D'tarr grinned from ear to pointed ear as Alex wiped off his brow and gave the Captain a thumbs up. “Get him patched up and fed, and Alex?” he paused, shook his head and just tipped the edge of his hat to the human before leaving, “Good work out there, Titan.”

Alex smiled and closed his eyes, finally laying back down to allow P'tuure and the medics to tend his wounds. As he lay there, feeling the skin-healing foams applied to the superficial sites and the dull, deep ache of forceps entering his abdominal cavity to remove the bullet lodged near his hip, his mind wandered over to what exactly his life had come to.

He lived on a colonial ship, a Fourth Generation Spaceborne Human, or a Titan as his crew called him, and was one of the handful of his species that shared a home aboard the RLS Mul'toralow with a people called the Yorn. They were a wide-spread race with two major factions; The Royal Fleet which consisted of mostly exploration or Colonial ships destined to seed new worlds, and the Marauders. The Marauders stemmed from the first contact with humans, their original leader used Humans sheer durability and raw power as an example that without struggle the Yorn species would be too weak to survive. A lot of humans joined them, the call to adventure and deep space far too appealing, while a smaller yet arguably far better trained group joined with the Royal Fleet.

Small, three four and a half foot tall fur-covered creatures that looked like a cross between insects and felines. They had two pairs of ears that sat on either side of their head one above the other, two massive, oval eyes with a false eyelids, and multiple spines always in even pairs behind their ears. Their mouths were very thin, unless talking it almost looked as if their small nose was the only opening on their face, and a little scaled tail swished behind them, mostly for balance, that could glow with a colour matching their fur, and would change if the Yorn was experiencing a strong mood.

Most shocking of all, when space travel began to take off, was that humans discovered just how strong our mother Earth made us. We thought our forms were inefficient, always looking for ways to improve and enhance our natural limits, when the average lifeforms in space was something far, far less capable. Life elsewhere typically required very precise conditions, it was rare and only a handful of species had emerged into the cosmos, all peaceful for the most part due to the shared frailty of life.

Humans changed everything. Weapons that would outright kill a Yorn or Gab-rab-rou only caused minor damage to a Human, extreme weather or toxicity for the average species was a mild irritant for humans diverse and powerful biology. They were like demi-gods that had been growing stronger every day on their home world, and now they among the stars; drastically tipping the scales of power.

What the average species lacked in sheer physical capability they more than made up for in cooperation and connectivity, surging to space-age technology because there was nothing holding their societies back like conflicting religions. With a life span of roughly twenty human years, a human that lived sometimes five times that was unbelievable.

Alex smiled, eyes still closed, as he felt a small four-fingered hand slip into his palm. He squeezed very gently, the flesh of a Yorn was very soft and pliable, the species were hyper intelligent but very weak. “You don't have to worry,” he finally spoke as he cracked open an eye, catching P'tuure with those big eyes locked onto his wounds, startling her for a moment.

She scoffed, swore in her native tongue and proceeded to rain little whaps against his arm in frustration.

“Stupid Titan! You're not immortal, you let that damn title go to your head!” she exclaimed, sniffing hard as she fought back tears. “You and the other four are all we have to protect us... we need you,” she choked out, finally ceasing the assault on his bandaged arm.

He didn't speak, he knew she was right but the ship needed those crystals to power literally everything on the ship. Without it, they would be adrift in a matter of weeks with no way of signalling for help and they were at least another five years away from their destination with 20 years of travel already behind them. He just sighed, he knew he'd do it again in a heartbeat even in his current state.

P'tuure sniffled once more, moved the food tray closer so Alex could reach it and pat the top of his hand twice. “Eat, when you can, okay?” she asked, to which Alex nodded and smiled. She turned to leave, she still had crew to check on and a lot of damage evaluation to go through, so she had to leave him with the medical crews capable hands.

She looked over her shoulder, one hand on the door while she looked back at the bloodied human, a small smile cracked her expression as she watched him start to tear in to his food. With a nod she tapped the door to get his attention and called back: “Rest well, my Titan Atlas.”

Alex just raised one closed fist up, grinning as only humans could while the door closed behind P'tuure.

(Again I whipped this up in about fifteen minuets so I’m sorry if I screwed up on grammar or spelling. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go convince myself to not add yet another story to my already massive list of things I want to write!)

#humans are space orcs #possibly a series?#idfk I just needed to write this thing out and share it

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