ifeelbetterer asked: STAR WARS PROMPT: Finn is a missing prince and his royal family finds him.

cactusspatz:

wildehack:

Their ship malfunctions, the mission goes south, and the royal guards catch them trying to steal parts and get the hell out of orbit. Poe is clapped in irons and thrown into the royal dungeon without incident, but the droid who processes Finn starts beeping dramatically, and in short order Finn is surrounded by excited doctors who take his blood, print his feet, and gape wildly at each other before apologizing, profusely. One of them starts weeping as she bandages the little puncture on his arm, where she’d drawn blood. 

“Um, that’s all right,” Finn says, uncomfortable, trying to pull his arm away. She weeps harder, and mutters something about twenty-three years and eight pounds, eleven ounces. “You don’t have to–do whatever it is you’re doing. You could let us go, though, if you want,” he adds optimistically. 

They do not let him go. 

Instead, they sweep him into the nicest room Finn has ever seen–all gold and marble with real silk curtains and a forcefield glittering over the windows. Two humans are waiting for him–one very old woman, and one man maybe a little younger than the General. The man lets out a little involuntary sound when he sees Finn, and the woman visibly pales, gripping the man’s arm tight enough that Finn can see her knuckles whiten. 

The man recovers himself first, although he can’t stop himself from staring at Finn, as though some private secret is laid bare by Finn’s face. “What’s your name?” he asks Finn, hoarsely. 

“Finn Dameron,” Finn tells them, and begins uncertainly to give them the cover identity he and Poe came up with a while back. “I’m a pilot on the New Destiny, on my way to Yavin 4. My ship crash-landed just outside the capital, and–it was all a misunderstanding, but you’ve got my copilot in your dungeon, ma’am. Sir.” 

“Your name is not Finn Dameron,” the old woman says, brushing off the man, and Finn feels a brief flicker of panic–does she know? How could she know? They’re not in First Order territory–when she steps forward until she’s standing just in front of him. She’s just as tall as he is, and her eyes are dark and glittering. She takes both of his hands in hers, and Finn feels his mouth go dry, a strange dread welling up in him for whatever she’s about to say next. “Your name is Orion Nox D’elian,” she says in a clear, merciless voice. “Your father was Lesser-Prince Isa Nox D’elian. You are my grandson.” 



Finn tries to explain that it’s not possible, he was a Stormtrooper, he doesn’t have a family, but everyone keeps chiming in to explain how it is possible. Lesser-Prince Isa was killed on a hospital-ship raid. All the children who didn’t die were taken by the First Order, including Lesser-Prince Orion. He was three months old. They’ve been looking for him ever since. 

Looking for Prince Orion, Finn reminds himself, staving back the panic and shaking his head wildly at the servant who tries offering him a platter of unfamiliar sweet-smelling fruit. Not FN-1287, and definitely not Finn Dameron, Resistance soldier. 

“Your mother has been notified,” the man says, who turns out to be High-Prince Mada Nox D’elian, and keeps telling Finn that he’s his uncle. He can’t seem to stop smiling, and it’s not helping Finn’s nerves.“She’s on a diplomatic mission to Titian 3, but she’s already on her way back. It shouldn’t take more than a day.” 

But Finn doesn’t have a mother–has never had a mother–and the thought of this strange woman appearing and claiming the title makes him suddenly sick. “I want to see Poe Dameron,” he says loudly, interrupting the High-Prince, who is showing him a holo of Lesser-Prince Isa, who looks horrifically like the face Finn knows from the mirror. “He’s my friend. My copilot. In your dungeon. Can you–I want to see him. Please.” 

When they bring Poe up, he’s clearly been run under a sonic, because the sweat and grime they’d both accumulated on the journey from the crash site is gone. He’s also been bundled into a raw silk robe, and someone’s spritzed tea-tree oil into his hair, as Finn discovers when he races to hug Poe and get his grip on reality back.  

“Hey, hey, buddy,” Poe says cautiously into Finn’s hair, hugging back just as tightly. His body is tense against Finn’s, but he doesn’t seem like he’s about to bolt, as much as Finn might welcome the idea.“You okay?” 

“I’m okay,” Finn confirms, still inhaling tea-tree oil. “They, um. They think I’m their missing prince.” 

“Wow,” Poe says slowly, hands slipping away as Finn reluctantly detaches himself. “I mean. Wow. That explains why they keep calling me princess-consort, anyway.” 

HOW HAVE I NOT SEEN THIS. IT’S SO GREAT!!!

elenothar asked: Hi! I was wondering whether your awesome 'Poe is a space princess' trope/headcanon is something you're writing or a general prompt type thing because reading it kinda started an avalanche of plot ideas. Thank you! :)

leupagus:

cactusspatz:

leupagus:

Go for it! That was just an idea one of my friends had; I wrote her that story as a gift, but it’s certainly not my headcanon and it’s free to a good home. Write as many stories as you want about Princess Poe!

 I am very much of the opinion that prompts/general ideas for stories  are not something you can say ‘no this belongs to me’ anyway  because there is no new idea under the sun but in case you were wondering please anyone who wants to write as many princess poe fics as your heart desires although tbh what *I* really want to read is Princess Finn  THINK ABOUT IT TAKEN FROM A FAMILY HE’LL NEVER KNOW  RAISED TO DO ONE THING but what if he was like taken from a ROYAL FAMILY as some kind of IDK punishment and then they see his face on holovids about the Heroes of the Resistance  and are like OUR BABY IS ALIVE and descend on the resistance base with like tiaras and scepters and are like WHERE IS THE ONE THEY CALL meanwhile Poe and Rey are like saaaaaaaaaay what now? it’d be great (via leupagus)

Apparently I’m going to be a broken record in this fandom and it’s all your fault:

When Finn got back from his latest mission, the General was waiting for him.

“Finn, you have…an unusual visitor,” she said. Finn looked at Poe, who could usually translate for Finn in situations like this, but Poe looked just as lost.

“What kind of unusual visitor?”

“The kind with an official diplomatic brief from the Chanji system.”

“Wow,” Poe said. “You don’t see those types out here very often.”

“Chanji system?” Finn asked plaintively.

“Really, really disgustingly wealthy planetary system. They had exclusive gem trading rights with the Hapes Consortium for years. Famous for their artists. Not really the type of people who’d associate with guerilla scum like us,” Poe added with a grin.

“Sounds like a real party,” Finn said. “What do they want with me?”

“Their representative refused to discuss the matter with little old me,” the General drawled. “So I stuck him in the old pilot ready room to wait.”

Poe winced. “The one with the droch infestation?”

“What droch infestation?” The General said innocently.

Finn made a face. He couldn’t just abandon someone to that, no matter how rude they’d been to the General. “Yeah, okay, let’s get this over with. Find out what the guy wants.”

****

“Wait, you think I’m a <i>what</i>?”

“Prince Royal Teneveld IV, who went missing twenty years ago during a First Order attack on a planet that Queen Betham, who was then only Princess Royal, was visiting. No remains were ever found, and so the royal family has continued to search for their lost son in hopes of bringing him home.” The advocate took a moment away from looking primly disgusted by the ready room to look extremely skeptical instead.

“And you think Finn is this….Prince Teneveld?” Poe asked, a terrible, delighted grin spreading across his face. Finn elbowed him in the ribs, but Poe just winked at him.

“According to the terms of the trust left by Dowager Queen Maris, we are required to investigate all possible leads in this matter,” the advocate droned. “We received a communication that Mr….Finn here might be a candidate.”

Poe, who seemed to be following all this better than Finn, asked, “Wait, who tipped you off that Finn might be your guy?”

The advocate shuffled his datapads. “Ahem. Maz Kanata, of Takodana.” He pronounced it <i>Mazz</i>.

“Maz?” Finn said. “She didn’t even like me.” There had been that whole creepy staring-at-his-eyes thing, though. But that was ridiculous, you couldn’t recognize long lost royalty by looking at someone’s eyes. And Finn’s were just plain old brown, anyway. Nothing special.

The advocate blinked, slowly, and Finn got the impression he didn’t like Finn either. Finn crossed his arms defensively. “Fine, whatever. Just test my blood and get out of here.”

The advocate pricked Finn’s finger with a little device, then stood looking increasingly bored as it ticked away, processing the DNA scan. Poe nudged against Finn’s back with his shoulder, and Finn relaxed a little. He always felt better with someone at his back, even in stupid non-combat situations like this.

The little device finally trilled and stopped ticking, and the advocate turned it over to check the result. He stared at it for a long moment, expressionless, then blinked.

“Oh fuck,” the man said. “You’re actually him.”

SCREAMING