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tfa_kink2015-12-19 05:36 pm
themodawakens) wrote in tfa_kink2015-12-19 05:36 pm
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PROMPT POST #1 - CLOSED
This post is closed to new prompts!
+ All prompts should focus on TFA characters. You can't post OT or PT-only prompts.
+ One prompt per comment please.
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+ Use 'Any' when prompting for any pairing at all (eg Kylo/Any or Any/Any)
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What Happens on Vega... 4/5
(Anonymous) 2016-07-03 01:37 pm (UTC)(link)I'm sorry this update took forever. I had some deadline writing to do, but now I'm back and determined to finish this fic. I think there should be only one more chapter, though I'm still torn on the ending. Anyway, today you'll finally get an explanation for how this whole mess happened, while our valiant FN-2187 suffers yet one more shock of his life.
Chapter 4: A Knight Of Your Own
“Oh kriff, you’re a Jedi!”
FN-2187’s breath came in short, panicked gasps as he looked at the impossibility of a plasma sword being brandished at him.
As the star pupil of his squad, 87 knew everything about the Jedi.
They were dangerous warmongers who had betrayed the Republic, and then the Empire. They would have tried to destroy the First Order, too, if it weren’t for the Knights of Ren.
Before his first assignment, Finn had been full of awe for the mystical warriors that were the First Order’s greatest weapon, and hoped to meet one of them one day. Being stationed in sanitation, Finn had never run into Kylo Ren, the Knights’ leader, but he had cleaned up after enough of his tantrums to have changed his mind about meeting him.
Now he found himself really, really wishing Kylo Ren were here and destroying a couple of consoles.
“Where are the Knights of Ren when you need them?” he yelped. “Aren’t they supposed to hunt down rogue Jedi? I’m pretty sure they should, it’s their job why aren’t they here why isn’t Kylo Ren here don’t they have Jedi sensors Slip said they have Jedi sensors oh kriff I’m going to die…”
The Jedi lowered his light sword, a look of supreme confusion on his face. He deactivated it, but that did nothing to make him less intimidating for he slipped off the bed and 87 saw for the first time just how freakishly tall and broad-shouldered he was. 87 was by no means a waif, but this man could probably crush him with bare hands. “I am Kylo Ren.”
87’s brain jarred to a halt.
Red saber. Black clothes on the floor. Red crossguard lightsaber. Everybody on board knew about the saber, and 87 had never heard of there being a second one like his.
And who else could get away with attacking General Hux?
87’ legs buckled. The blaster slipped from his hands altogether. “I’m going to die.”
Nobody 87 knew had seen Kylo Ren without his mask, but everybody agreed he was old and ugly, and most believed he was disfigured like Emperor Palpatine had been.
FN-2187 knew now that he had tiny little moles on his ass just like on his face and liked to take you from behind.
He was so dead.
“I’m deader than dead,” he moaned as he sat there on the floor and tried not to hyperventilate.
A pair of feet came to a halt right in front of him.
Had he mentioned yet that he was dead?
Dead man walking, that was him. Or more like not-even-walking since his legs had turned to jelly.
Kylo Ren gave a disgusted scoff. “This is how I knew you didn’t remember my name.”
Somehow, 87 managed to stifle his whimper. “This is when you’re going to kill me.”
There was a growl somewhere above him. “I will, if you don’t stop whimpering.”
Somehow, this did nothing to calm 87’s racing heart.
“Oh for Force’s…”
Invisible hands wrapped around his throat and hauled him to his feet – by his kriffing throat! – and then another pair of invisible hands pinned him to the wall, only it was more like a solid wall of invisible-something pinning him...
…and he was still dead. So dead. FN-2187 had heard everything about Dark Side users and the Force Choke.
Fearfully, 87 forced himself to look at his husband – Kylo Ren! Slip would never believe him! The man had one hand raised, reminding 87 of a picture of a puppeteer he had seen once. He still looked very annoyed, but he didn’t look like he was about to crush his throat. And 87 didn’t have any actual problems breathing, there was just this solid presence holding him in place. Of course, who could say how Kylo Ren looked before he crushed someone’s throat? He wore a mask!
“I noticed,” the Knight snapped, but there was an undertone of amusement to his annoyed voice now, and 87’s hope that he might live to see another minute soared. “Now if you could stop thinking quite so loudly for a moment…”
“You’re reading my thoughts?!” 87 gasped. Okay, now he was utterly, thoroughly horrified. And he was pretty sure that ought to be against regulation, too.
“Only because you are shouting them at me.” The man glowered. “Stop thinking.”
87 didn’t think you could actually just stop thinking like that, but he sure tried his hardest to think quietly. However that was supposed to work.
But it did work, for the pressure vanished, and Kylo Ren walked back to the bed. It was only then that 87 realized that they were still both naked. And Kylo Ren’s backside really made for a very nice sight.
Why were all the hot ones so murderous?
Ren placed his lightsaber on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed. Several seconds passed before he patted the mattress and snapped, “sit!”
87 bristled against being sat like a well-behaved dog, but in favor of keeping himself in one piece, he swallowed his annoyance and obeyed. That’s all you could do around asshole officers; talking back never worked out well for the Stormtrooper even if there were no lightsabers involved.
He did make sure to keep an arm’s length of distance between Ren and him, for all the good that would do him against a Knight of Ren. Then 87 just looked down at his knees while he waited for Ren to make the next move. He still had scabs from a previous training session, and now he felt sore in delicate places, too. If he moved slowly in training tomorrow, that would be hard to explain to Captain Phasma.
The Knight didn’t speak. Was he breathing at all?
“Uh…?” 87 faked a cough. His gaze shifted to the wedding ring on his finger, and he twirled it around. He figured this could become a nervous habit, if he were allowed to keep it.
Ren still wasn’t looking at him.
“So… Um…” Waiting. Nothing. Did Force users ever go into spontaneous hibernation? “I should get back to the others. Captain Phasma must be wondering where I am.”
That finally earned him a response – a snort. “Trust me, she knows. I’m sure everybody knows that I dragged you into the middle of the bar and ordered the Vega secretary of state to officiate our wedding. Which is your fault, by the way, as you kept citing fraternization rules at me until I reasoned in my drunken state that there ought to be exceptions made for lawfully wedded couples. I believe I had her at lightsaber point until I needed my hands to exchange rings.”
87 winced; that sounded like something Kylo Ren would do. “That doesn’t explain how this happened. Or why,” 87 interjected cautiously. Since Ren seemed calm enough, he dared turn slightly towards him, and look at him properly. He was frowning, but he looked more thoughtful than angry. Maybe, 87 couldn’t help thinking, there’s something to these jokes that Ren just needed to get laid…
Ren’s lips twisted into a sneer. Oh, there was the anger. He balled his hands into fists. They trembled with barely restrained anger. “That’s no mystery when you’ve been slipped something to alter your mood. Drunk, maybe. I felt euphoric. And then I decided to get drunk for real.”
That still didn’t explain how 87 had gotten drunk, or why. He rubbed his temples as he tried his hardest to remember, but there were only flashes of memory which were no help whatsoever. He saw himself drinking, then drinking with Ren who looked… He had looked gorgeous half-drunk, with his eyes wild and body language grandiose, and somehow always finding yet another reason to touch 87, or pull him closer. 87 remembered that he hadn’t minded, not at all. Drunk him had been incredibly attracted to Kylo Ren.
That was all nice and good. Only, the Stormtroopers had been there to guard the dignitaries, not to party with them. Stormtroopers, as a rule, didn’t party.
“I ordered you to take off your helmets and drink. And since Hux had conveniently left and dragged Phasma along, nobody disobeyed.” Oh yes, he sounded angry, but that growl was rather nice too when it wasn’t directed at you.
FN-2187 nodded, and gulped. “You took one look at me and…” He trailed off, uncertain, since it sounded cocky or even silly when you tried to put it into words.
“…decided that I wanted you,” Ren finished for him. For all that this had been an obvious ploy to humiliate him before his own troops, foreign dignitaries and ultimately the Supreme Leader, he still struck 87 as incredibly unabashed.
“It wasn’t like I was fighting you off,” 87 offered tentatively, accompanied with a hopeful little smile, “we’re both to blame.” He felt a bit squirmy as he recalled how far he had been from fighting him off. He couldn’t even blame the alcohol, considering he would be getting fucked by Ren – again – right now if his memories hadn’t returned in the worst possible moment.
“No,” Kylo Ren said, eerily calm again, “we aren’t. I know exactly who is to blame.” His face was tight and angry again, and his gaze flickered to his lightsaber.
“Oh no no no no no!” 87 yelped, leaping up from the bed in his panic. “You can’t go after General Hux!”
“Don’t concern yourself with him.”
Ren’s hand reached for him and the invisible bands returned, yanking him back onto the bed. They really had to talk about Ren’s manhandling habit. “Right now you should be concerned with yourself,” he said. He yanked 87 closer, until they were right eye to eye.
His heart rate picked up. “This is when I die, isn’t it?”
Ren’s lips twitched. “That depends on you.” His eyes hardened, his gaze sent shivers down 87’s spine. There was something distinctly predatory about him now. “I’ll kill you if you cause trouble. But if you ignore last night it will be like it never happened.”
Was there any point to reminding Ren he’d been the one to start it both last night and in the morning? The obvious answer was not if you like being alive.
“I’m not going to tell!” FN-2187 vowed, “I’ll never speak of this to anyone. Ever!” He would promise whatever got him out of here alive. His gaze strayed to the still very naked body of the Knight, and he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret that they hadn’t gotten around to doing it again. Ren’s personality may be horrifying, but nobody could deny that his body was perfect. As a Stormtrooper, 87 could appreciate not just his handsomeness, but that Ren had schooled his body into a lethal weapon.
Kylo Ren turned his head and looked at him for impossibly long seconds – 87 couldn’t decipher the conflict that showed so clearly on his face, but there could be no doubt he was at war with himself.
He might end up dead, after all.
Just when 87 was bracing himself for the return of the lightsaber, Ren stood up abruptly and started to dig around the mess on the floor, giving 87 another nice look at his tight, perfectly shaped ass in the process. With the sight making his mouth go dry, it took 87 embarrassingly long to catch on to the fact that Ren was getting dressed.
Maybe he had a rule against murdering people while naked.
Entranced, 87 watched Ren’s naked skin disappear beneath layers of black, until the imposing well-known figure of the Master of the Knights of Ren stood before him, the only sign that last night hadn’t been a figment of 87’s imagination the distinct lack of a mask, and his own nakedness.
He still looked handsome swathed in black, though the cut of his uniform and the fluttering robe gave him a deceptively slim appearance.
Ren cleared his throat. “My eyes are up here, trooper.”
“Sorry, sir… uh, Lord Ren, sir!” Did mortification count as an actual legit cause of death? If it didn’t, they really ought to remedy that.
Ren’s eyes softened a bit, he could have sworn he read mischief in them for a moment before they went blank again. “Report to the good Captain as soon as possible. I’ll ensure there are no repercussions for you.”
Only the stiff, militaristic way in which he held himself betrayed Ren’s discomfort as he turned on his heel and stalked to the door. He reminded 87 of an officer inspecting the troops at parade.
“What are you going to do now?” 87 asked before he could come to his senses and remember he wanted to remain safely forgotten.
Much to his surprise, Ren halted just short of passing through the door, and even looked back at him. He looked eerily calm. “I’m going to kill General Hux.”
To be continued…
Re: What Happens on Vega... 4/5
(Anonymous) 2016-07-03 03:26 pm (UTC)(link)Re: What Happens on Vega... 4/5
(Anonymous) 2016-07-03 04:18 pm (UTC)(link)Re: What Happens on Vega... 4/5
This is amazing, thanks!
Re: What Happens on Vega... 4/5
(Anonymous) 2016-07-04 06:46 pm (UTC)(link)Re: What Happens on Vega... 4/5
(Anonymous) 2016-07-08 07:12 pm (UTC)(link)What Happens on Vega... 5/6
(Anonymous) 2016-08-08 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)I promise I didn't forget this story. While chapter 5 gave me a hard time, I started polishing the earlier chapters and posting on AO3. You can find it under http://archiveofourown.org/works/7502802 with the first three chapters up.
Without further ado, the last (real) chapter!
Chapter 5: Only Funny If It Happens to Someone Else
FN-2187 had it on good authority that Kylo Ren did not, in fact, kill General Hux that day.
Well, fine, he knew so because of General Hux’s daily speech on the Finalizer, though his voice sounded scratchy and weak and he broke down into coughing fits for days, so ‘87 would bet on a legitimate attempt having been made.
He also had it on good authority that there had been major property damage, though he wouldn’t learn the full extent of it until weeks later.
By the time he reported to Captain Phasma, the First Order troops were being rushed off-planet, and word was that Kylo Ren and Hux had already returned to the ship.
It looked like their hosts had been ever so slightly upset by the large-scale destruction an angry Kylo Ren unleashed.
True to his word, FN-2187 kept mum on the events of that night, even though he was more popular than ever before among the gossip-starved troops.
After a week it would have been like it had never happened if it weren’t for the ring ‘87 still wore under his white Stormtrooper gloves. He didn’t want to wonder why, but he didn’t like the thought of it being discovered, and confiscated, if his possessions were searched while he was on duty.
It would have been fine, except one day Captain Phasma asked to speak to him about his training results, and he caught a glance at his own file.
Marital status: Married.
Spouse: Kylo Ren (Knights of Ren)
‘87 could never figure out how he’d made it through the meeting without hyperventilating.
There was one thing he knew for sure: he needed answers.
There was only one person who could give him these answers: his husband.
Problem one was that FN-2187 was working on a tight schedule. Their bout on the Finalizer was nearly over, it’d be back to the training compound then and there’s no saying if he would run into Kylo Ren ever again.
Problem two was that you did not simply run into Kylo Ren, at least not when you were a simple cadet catching his first whiff of real Stormtrooper air. Getting to Ren would require everything he had been taught and more.
Problem three was that Ren would kill him for his trouble, but FN-2187 tried very hard not to think about problem three while he was still working on problem two.
A bad strategy, all things considered, but that didn’t occur to him until he stood in front of Kylo Ren’s door and waited for certain death. Well, okay, more like, he was waiting for the courage to ring the bell.
The door opened suddenly, and there was an intimidating swath of black in front of him, a growl of, “will you stop thinking so loudly?!” and then he found himself unceremoniously yanked into the room. Without Kylo Ren ever touching him at all.
Pinned against the now-closed door, ’87 gaped at Ren’s mask. Was it just him or did the mouthpiece really make it look astoundingly duck-like?
The strangled noise Ren made probably meant he’d heard that.
FN-2187 was so dead.
Ren yanked off the mask and snapped, “and would you stop the mindless panicking, too? You’re giving me a migraine.”
“It’d be easier not to panic if you weren’t going to kill me… sir? Lord Ren.” Kylo. He was probably supposed to call him Kylo, being married and everything. Or ‘sweetheart’ or whatever cute nicknames married people had for another. ‘87’s training hadn’t exactly prepared him for this scenario.
No, not sweetheart. Definitely not sweetheart, ’87 decided as he cringed under Ren’s glare, that would take a more suicidal trooper than him.
Ren put the helmet down on a table and sprawled in an armchair that looked incredibly uncomfortable even by First Order standards. ’87 didn’t miss that he hadn’t been invited to sit, or given permission to move at all. In a way he was glad for it; the more distance between him and his husband, the better. “I didn’t kill you yet, but I’m willing to reconsider.”
“Uh… that’s really not necessary?”
He should have never come.
Going by Ren’s snort, he agreed. “Why are you here?” Sprawled in that huge blocky armchair, so deceptively relaxed but with these disturbingly intense black eyes fixed on ’87, he looked like a predator waiting to pounce. Whatever animal he would be, it should have sleek and deceptively silky fur, and claws that could spill a man’s guts with a single swipe.
’87 gulped. He folded his hands in front of him and peered down at them. He shouldn’t have come. It wasn’t like Vega. Here he was just a trooper cadet, and Ren the Force user who skewered people like him for fun. Or that’s what Slip said anyway, that bloke in maintenance had told him that a droid in medical had heard from an officer that Ren liked to kill Stormtroopers just for fun when he got bored. Lined up a dozen and hacked them up, just like that. Mind you, Slip had also been convinced there was a zillo beast in the sewers under their training compound, but this one didn’t sound far-fetched at all.
“I’m waiting!”
‘87’s eyes widened when he realized Ren had raised his hand in that gesture that meant telekinesis. “Sorry! Sorry, I was just…” He shook his head. Damn it, he was a cadet of the First Order, and the best one Captain Phasma had seen in a long time. He wasn’t going to stammer and cower… at least not much. “I saw my file,” ’87 said, “and we’re still married.”
“I know.”
’87 swallowed down the indignant why didn’t you tell me? only because he realized that would presume Kylo Ren cared enough to keep him informed. He was just one Stormtrooper among many, he didn’t even warrant a name like the officers or Knights of Ren.
“Were you going to tell me?” he asked instead.
Ren remained silent for long moments, which ’87 took to mean no, and really, this entire trip was turning out to be a waste of time. He didn’t even know what he’d been hoping for. Then the man surprised him by pointing at the other chair and saying, “sit.”
Which was another bad habit of Ren, ‘sitting’ him, and that it was an improvement this time only showed how badly their talk was going. ’87 sat without a complaint, though he wondered why Ren even had a second chair. He couldn’t see him having guests over.
“Telling you wouldn’t have changed a thing. The Vegan government was ready to shoot us from the sky, there was no time to seek an annulment, and Hux thought it amusing to insist on truthful documentation in our own files. It’s just a line of code. It has no bearing on your life, or on mine.”
That was so utterly underwhelming. ’87 really didn’t know what he had expected, but he knew there had been something on Vega, prior to him learning Ren’s identity. It hadn’t been love at first sight, but it wasn’t all in his head either. But the moment ’87 learned his name he had grown so cold and curt as if ’87 was dealing with Captain Phasma or General Hux himself, not with who was said to be the most emotional person in the First Order.
“Okay,” ’87 said, though it wasn’t really okay. But the way Ren told it he didn’t leave a lot of room for argument.
Ren stood up and walked to his side, he rested his hand on ‘87’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I wish you weren’t burdened with this.”
He had sounded gentle, but by the time ’87 looked up he was scowling again and retreating to pick up his helmet. “You have to leave. You have no clearance for this sector.”
’87 wilted. You couldn’t get kicked out more bluntly.
“Yes. Yes, I guess I should leave, I’ve got to be in my bunk if there’s a surprise inspection, and Slip will be wondering where I am.” He got up and walked towards the door, albeit slowly, irrationally still waiting for… Well, for Ren to give him something to show he wasn’t crazy and had made up the entire thing, really.
Ren didn’t say anything. He put on his helmet, and ’87 could have sworn he felt his eyes on him. It was uncomfortable.
FN-2187 couldn’t help feeling oddly let down as he left Kylo Ren’s quarters.
Two days later he was shipped back to the training compound.
He didn’t expect to see Kylo Ren ever again, and he didn’t. Not until Jakku.
The End (of a sort)
So here we are!
This chapter was hard since it deviates from the cracky humor of the prior ones, but I wanted to explore some harsh reality after the morning after. (And Kylo Ren's isolation being a self-fulfilling prophecy, but him shooting himself in the foot no matter what is kind of a given.) When I started this story I just wanted to write silliness, now I'm intrigued in what it'd take to make this ship work. Alas I have promised myself this fic won't turn into a monster bunny on me.
So this is where the story proper ends, next stop: TFA. There's an epilogue with the Resistance yet to come (and maybe a little reunion?)
Re: What Happens on Vega... 5/6
(Anonymous) 2016-08-10 01:05 am (UTC)(link)Re: What Happens on Vega... 5/6
(Anonymous) 2016-08-11 12:57 pm (UTC)(link)