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prompt post one

+ All comments except fills should be posted anonymously.
+ All prompts should focus on TFA characters. You can't post OT or PT-only prompts.
+ One prompt per comment please.
+ You can request both kink and non-kink content
+ Crossovers, characters from the other media are allowed, but must relate to the 2015 movie in some way.
+ All prompt comments should begin with a pairing tag (eg Rey/Finn) or Gen for no pairing.
+ Use 'Any' when prompting for any pairing at all (eg Kylo/Any or Any/Any)
+ Anyone, everyone, no one? Use "Other." (e.g. Poe/Other)
+ Warn for common triggers, please
+ NO PROMPTS FEATURING CHARACTERS UNDER 18 IN SEXUAL SITUATIONS.
+ don't hijack other people's prompts.
+ prompts should not exceed ~250 words.
+ also, while this is not really a rule I can enforce, please try to limit yourselves to fewer than 5 prompts per page.
+ reposting prompts is currently not allowed.
+ no prompts based on real life tragic events. e.g: 9/11 au, concentration camp au, etc
+ PLAY NICE

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

One night he arrived to seek his lover, and the small room was empty.

Through the window of the church he saw a pair of lawmen, blue uniforms starched against the late summer, and he crept round the side, pressing against the shingles to listen.

"I'll post the images, Officers, of course," Hux said, smooth. "I wish you the very best in tracking this killer of yours."

"Thank you, Father. We'll ask around, be out of your hair in a day or so."

As they left, he saw his lover drop the copies on top of the piano, sitting down at the bench to sigh heavily. Hux reached to unknit his own brow.

Kylo climbed in the open window and stood, suddenly unsure.

"Thank you for not telling me what you did," Hux said, as much to the sketch of Ben Solo on the piano top. "All those cadets." His eyes were empty now, no love there.

"I had to," he said, but the words fell lame from his lips. How could he explain the darkness that had gripped his heart, the rage he'd felt at his fellow men, how he'd hated them. How they'd taunted him for his parentage, his awkward body, his earnest heart. How he'd desired their flesh despite his hatred. "All I wanted was to leave."

"Leave. Go West."

"Come with me."

"No."

It was the ultimate betrayal, and Kylo stalked over to his lover, shoving him away from the piano to force eye contact.

"Or will you kill me, too?"

That night he was on a train, alone, back North to the Trans-Continental. The wind was bitter on his skin as he took a smoke out back, the red embers burning low to his fingers. He didn't look like the sketch no more, with his tan skin and long black hair, worker's callouses and hollow eyes, so he could risk the New York station for long enough to pass to Chicago.

Shiny red hair catches his eye in the station light, but when the man turns it's just a boy, slim and frail and not his preacher. It makes him feel empty inside, makes him think about turning himself in, taking his execution. Maybe he should have done that straight off. Not ruined a man's life with his lust.

He gets to Chicago and he knows he can't go any further alone.

The weather's turned by the time the train pulls back in. There's a deep chill to the air and rain hangs from leaves clinging to branches. Their heady summer was over.

There were no girls in the church this time, no chorus, no lights. He hesitates at the threshold, but something tells him he's needed. Door creaks open to silence, darkness, and a single sharp peal of the bell.

He's up the stairs before he can think and there, chair kicked out from his feet, Hux is dangling from the bell pull, noose tight round his throat. Kylo's on him in a second, holding him to keep the pressure while he fishes for the knife in his pocket and it's never fast enough that he's got him down on the floor, flat on his back like their first time and the rope's still bruising, Hux is still sputtering and he can't get purchase, he's going to cut him but he has to - and then the knife is under the rope and he's slicing up with such force he clips his own forehead -

- "Hux, Hux," he sobs as his lover sobs for breath.

"Brendol," he pants, voice thin, eyes closed. "My first name."

"Call me Ben," he says, fingers soothing over the purple-black snap in the pale skin, clerical collar torn open from the force of the noose.

"Ben," he manages, before he blacks out.

Ben worries his fingers over the fading bruises on Brendol's neck as his lover dozes on the train, each beat of the wheels luring him deeper into sleep. No more holy clothes for Hux, and no more lies for himself - no more hiding. They'd take their chances in California.

hoooooooooly shit

*casually flails onto a fainting couch* praise jesus

and then they lived happily ever after on a vineyard, making really good wine that they are a bit too snotty about

*screams* Oh my god. This is perfect. You're perfect.

Damn anon, you really went for it and did the thing. This is one of the best "spirit of the prompt" fills I've seen anywhere.

jesus, this is phenomenal. this isn't a genre i've ever dabbled in, but now i feel like i gotta fuckin' consider it. goddamn.

I spend a goodly long time tryin' to deny my roots, leave the oppressive heat and oppressive people, but stories like this remind me a girl can't never forget where she come from. Amen and good night, this is some fine literature.

Fuck yes. I want to send you an award for this.

PROMPT POST #2 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts!

FILL Part 2 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic, TW Suicide Attempt

Re: FILL Part 2 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic, TW Suicide Attempt

Re: FILL Part 2 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic, TW Suicide Attempt

Re: FILL Part 2 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic, TW Suicide Attempt

Re: FILL Part 2 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic, TW Suicide Attempt

Re: FILL Part 2 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic, TW Suicide Attempt

Re: FILL Part 2 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic, TW Suicide Attempt

Re: FILL Part 2 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic, TW Suicide Attempt

Re: FILL Part 2 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic, TW Suicide Attempt