Entry tags:

prompt post

PROMPT POST #3 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts! Go here

rules | ask a mod | fills post | discussion/off-topic post | flat view | ao3 collection | delicious account

prompt post one
prompt post two

+ 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

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

It all starts when Hux gets a message from the Department of Infotainment on her com unit pad. The message is just a news clip from General Landa doing one of his "Profiles in Bravery" series, the kind that are played over screens in the Stormtroopers' mess hall during busy lunch hours. Hux stirs her cup of caf, yawning a little and skimming through the clip to see whether there's anything pertinent to her.

"Today, we honor Colonel Rog Zoller." Oh. Hux's hand goes to her heart. Landa's cheerful face fades out, his voice speaker over a still photo of Rog. He's young, square-jawed, his honey-brown hair slicked back over eyes that gaze into the distance. "Colonel Zoller's TIE fighter was shot down during a skirmish with those nasty Resistance dogs over a populated asteroid. Armed with only a half-charged blaster and a single incendiary device, he managed to shoot down six Resistance planes, take two of their running dogs alive, and secure the resources of the asteroid--not to mention the loyalty of all inhabitants! Congratulations, Colonel Rog Zoller. You are truly a hero of the First Order."

Oh, good. Hux lets out a breath and takes a sip of her caf. Landa would have mentioned it if he'd died, made the piece a somber one. She closes out the video and puts her com pad down before it starts beeping again. This time it's Landa in the flesh.

"Miss Hux, so glad I caught you. How did you enjoy the video?"

Hux favors Landa with a faint smile. Normally she'd be sterner with anyone referring to her as "Miss," but Landa's job is to be chatty and approachable, a sort of kindly grandfather from the Empire lending his reputation to the First Order. "Very good, sir. I'm inspired by Zoller's bravery, and I'm sure the Troopers will be as well."

"It was for your eyes especially, my dear. I understand that you go a long ways back with Colonel Zoller."

Hux winces internally. "We were close in the Academy, but we haven't seen each other since I attained the rank of General."

"Tsk. Such a shame."

"It was by mutual agreement," Hux assures him.

"Well, our friend Zoller is very eager to become reacquainted with his old friend now that he is a Hero of the Order. In fact, he's requested that you present him with his medal."

Maker, no. "General, I can't possibly take the time off from supervising Project Starkiller for something like that. I appreciate the offer, but--"

"It was not an offer, Miss Hux." Landa leans back in his hair, steepling his fingers over his chest. "Don't worry about the time it will take--the ceremony will take place in the Finalizer. We're transporting Zoller and some very high officials out to you. You'll even be able to give them a tour of your progress on the Starkiller, so it's perfect." He beams at her, showing all of his teeth. "So you see, there is nothing to worry about."

"Understood, General. I'm honored."

"Then I will let you get back to your morning cup." Landa signs off.

Hux gulps her caf and thinks about following it up with a Perkium tablet.

omg this was perfect!

Yesssssssssss this is so good!

a/n: Starts out in the last 15 minutes of RotJ...This will be Chapter 1 when I get out of the AO3 queue ahhh

In the beginning it was quiet, from a certain point of view. Anakin Skywalker's pyre roared like ravenous beast, Endor's sky flared and sang with fireworks and burning men, while treetop bonfires drew packs of increasingly rowdy Alliance pilots. But as Luke Skywalker stood vigil for his father, so close that his skin flushed and his eyes burned, something relaxed inside of him, a buzzing knot in his mind that he had not noticed until it was still.

Then the last of the logs cracked and fell, and the fire died, smothered under it's own weight.

*

The Ewok village was full of a different kind of noise. Luke stood just out of sight for a time and let it's over it's over we won we won wash over him. It wasn't true, exactly, but it meant room to breathe, and another day alive.

It would take some getting used to. Luke had stepped into that shuttle knowing that his father's death mask was probably the last thing he would ever see.

I will not turn. And you will be forced to kill me.

If that is your destiny...

His right hand clenched involuntarily. The light and laughter in front of him faded and he was, once again, hiding – waiting - in the shadows of the throne room, Palpatine curled up on his throne, leering at the spectacle, Vader prowling at the edges of his mind, looking for -

There.

No -

...Perhaps she will.

-the smell of burnt metal - blood roaring in his ears – is that Father screaming - leialeiaLeiaLeia LEIA -

They felt each other before he was ready. He'd been pulling his thoughts together – pushing it away - spinning a story for the Alliance when the spark on the edge of himself that he'd given to her roared to life and Leia – his sister – broke out of the crowd and threw herself into his arms.

She saw and she knew, and she clung to him all the same. He pulled her as close as he dared, as if her arms could hold him together. Then she let Han haul him into a noisy hug, laughing all the while, her relief and love blazing like a comet in the Force.

And it was quiet.

*
The following weeks were a study in vaguely organized chaos. News of the ‘disaster at Endor’ had spread fast. The surviving half of the Imperial fleet limped back to Coruscant, by way of the Kuat drive yards, only to be engulfed in all-out war with the Core systems, Corellia leading the charge.

Luke, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the observation bubble on Home One, shuddered as wave after wave of rage buffeted his mind. Decades of rage, to be exact, over a Republic-turned-Empire that had promised a thousand years of peace and delivered two Death Stars and billions of dead.

Blood in the water – a good time to strike.

Luke shuddered, stood, and headed for the mess hall.

*

“I’m glad there’s no body,” Leia said suddenly, curled up on the sofa, surrounded by a datapads, her head on Han’s shoulder. Her husband – husband – drew her closer, looking away from the holocast of some Moff hanging from the ramparts of the Imperial Palace, a crude replica of Vader’s helmet strapped to his head.

Han thought about Cloud City, the rack, and Jabba’s Palace.

“Yeah, me too,” he said. He laid his hand protectively on Leia’s swollen abdomen.

*

0232…Kriffing Sith Hells…
Gilad Pellaeon set down his umpteenth mug of caf on top of the pile of datapads balanced precariously on his desk. He stood slowly, mindful of his leg, and moved to the holoprojecter.

The first thing he’d done after moving into Palpatine’s office was deactivate the ‘magnify’ setting.

“Your report, Captain?” he prompted tiredly. The slight man – no, boy, they’re all boys now - controlled his flinch better than his adjutant. Barely.

Pellaeon stood tall, ignoring the urge to reach for his cane.

“Admir – Your Excellency, a ship from the – the New Empire is hailing us.” The boy flushed, and squared his shoulders, daring a moment of eye contact. The fog cleared from Pellaeon’s mind, replaced by raw anger.

He’d commissioned this one a month ago.

“…And?”

“They want to discuss terms. Of our surrender. Sir.”

“What have they got?”

“Five Impstar Twos, three squadrons of Ties. And – I’m not sure sir, but it’s shaped like a giant disk with a sphere in the middle, and it’s been throwing these…things without bio signatures–“

Pellaeon smiled wolfishly. The boy paled.

“Open a two-way comm channel to the mothership and stabilize front deflectors,” said Pellaeon. He paused. “Upload software package Outbound to Death Squadron, authorization code Three Prime. Maintain distance and give them three passes. Oh, and Captain?” His smile broadened.

“Tell them to go kriff themselves.”

*

“It’s a boy!”

Luke’s smile lit up the cockpit. Leia slowly relaxed her grip on his hand and slumped against the Falcon’s nav console.

“…Sure you don’t want me to cut the cord with my lightsaber?” he asked, staring at the tiny hand wrapped around his thumb. He reached out with the Force and dimmed the lights, barely having to think about it. His nephew’s eyes were stinging, and he was making is opinion of the situation very, very clear.

“Maybe the next one,” said Leia. She was bone-weary, and her head was fuzzy, but she couldn’t stop smiling. Neither could Luke, even as he fished around in the med kit for appropriate baby care and cleaning implements. Joy swelled in their hearts, almost painful in its intensity.

Luke cut the cord and wiped down his squalling, red-faced nephew as quickly as he could. The sterile wipes in the med kit started to freeze seconds after he used them, so he was less thorough than he’d have liked.

He cleaned Leia up even faster, wanting to ease the thread of discomfort he sensed, even in the flood of joy. Then he stood and settled her back into the copilot’s chair, cradling her and her son with the Force until he could scoot the pilot’s seat close enough to lay her legs across his lap. He fussed with an old blanket he’d found in one of the smuggling compartments before their frantic rush to the cockpit, and bundled Leia and her son up before ducking under it himself, his breath fogging in the air.

Leia snuggled closer. The baby’s cries slowly tapered off into a low, curious burble, and then a sharp sneeze.

“Must be the Wookie hair…” she said.

“And here I was going to ask you what that smell was.”

“I think this is Chewie’s night shirt.”

“Really? Wait…” Leia snickered. The baby burped.

“Luke?”

“Hmm?”

“When we get back to Naboo, remind me to remind Han about the hyperdrive...”

“You mean, again?”

“…And the life support system…”

“Well, it’s technically the primary electrical bus that failed – “

“Life support, Luke.”

“At least we have air - ”

“In the cockpit..."

“…Leia, please try to stay awake. Leia?”

There were Jedi techniques for maintaining homeostasis in extreme environmental conditions. Luke, however, had only practiced on himself.

He couldn’t risk it.

So he reached out with the Force. The Falcon groaned in protest as he re-routed electrical power to the cabin. He breathed in, pulled energy from the circuits, twisting it in and around itself, just a little nudge of encouragement, molding it into a more useful form. His head buzzed and his lungs burned. But it wasn't enough.

All right then.

He reached for the coil of fear and snared the dissipating heat. Metal hissed and bubbled, melting into slag as he tore it from the pathetically outdated circuits. He breathed out, and wreathed his family in heat. He pulled Leia closer.

They’d be all right.

a/n: Nope, they haven't named Ben yet! My head canon is that Han and Leia just couldn't agree, so Luke cast the deciding vote

So happy you filled this -- thank you!

no no thank you! it was a weird decision to make in a split second. thank you for looking out for me <3

Omgggg! This fic is so good! I really enjoyed reading it. Thanks for filling this A!A <3

Yesss. I am so glad that someone's picked up this prompt. I am really to see where you go with it!

a/n: Rey is a Mechanical Engineering major, taking a class and practical lab for repairing/designing diesel engines. Luke is the prof.

“Now the most important thing is to keep track of the components. I can’t tell you how many times I wound up with ‘spare parts’ after reassembly.”
A few of the students giggled. Rey just rolled up the sleeves of her grease-spotted coveralls and leaned closer, sighing as her hips pressed against the vibrating engine block. Luke’s stomach flipped as their eyes met…and then darted away, an expression of polite attention on her face.
“Well,” he said, straightening. “To state the obvious, before we can take a look inside, we need to shut the engine down.” There were more giggles. Luke smiled and gestured at Jessica, who was inching towards the kill switch in what she clearly thought was a subtle manner. “Jessica, if you please?”
The twelve students watched attentively as he walked the third-year engineering student through the shutdown process. It was the first lab, and since most of the students in Diesels 1 had never changed their own wiper fluid, much less disassembled a 6-cylinder Caterpillar engine, he figured he should start with the basics. Soon the engine lurched to a halt. He smiled thankfully at Jessica and had Snap set up the chainfall.
“Today we will be removing the fuel injectors and changing the oil,” he said. “I hope you all brought your toolboxes?” Most of the class nodded. “Excellent. Now, please divide into teams – three to an engine. The instructions are on page 8 of your lab manual. Mr. Dameron and I will be observing. Please do not hesitate if you have a question or require assistance. You have until 2:00. Now get to it!” He clapped his hands and gestured at the four engines set up around the lab.
“It’s a good bunch this year,” said Poe Dameron, a Ph. D candidate and the lab TA. “The demographic’s certainly changed since I was in undergrad. I wonder why?” He shot Luke a sly glance.
“You certainly haven’t changed,” said Luke, in a tone that meant ‘you are so full of it’.
…Though Poe did have a point. 8 out of the 12 students in the lab were girls.
“You know there’s a waiting list for this time slot…” Poe continued. Luke rolled his eyes.
“Shouldn’t you be helping someone?”
Poe cracked his very best shit-eating grin.
“You know, Finn over there looks like he needs some help with that torque wrench…”
He mussed his dark hair and sidled over to where the tall, black man was fumbling with said wrench, trying to set it to the correct value, and glancing up at Poe with wide, hopeful eyes. Luke suppressed a grin.
“Professor Skywalker?”
Luke jumped. Rey was standing close enough that he could see the sweat beading on her forehead, and her rosy, blushing cheeks. Well, it is hot in here… he thought, steadying himself.
“What can I do for you Rey?” he asked, taking a careful step back.
“We’re having some issues…” she said, leading him over to her station. Rey, Jessica, and Bea (who went by BB) were clustered around their engine, a green V-4. They’d gotten the cover off and exposed the cylinder heads and fuel injectors, but had so far been unsuccessful with their removal attempts.
“It’s just here,” said Rey, tracing greasy finger over the insertion point. “We detached all the lines, but…it’s just in so deep. Like it doesn’t want to come out.”
“Ok,” said Luke. “Pass me the oil please. And that rag.”
BB and Jessica exchanged a quick, (and rather unnecessarily smirky, in his opinion) look and passed him the items.
“Now sometimes you just have to give it a little extra lubrication, like this,” he said, dripping oil around the head. “Hmm,” he frowned, his long fingers carefully circling the area, oblivious to the fact that he had the three girls’ undivided attention. “The fit is a bit tight…Now, give it a pull…” Rey reached in and tugged gently, to no effect.
“Eh, still nothing,” she said. “Maybe if you – “
“Ok, you hold here and I’ll twist here – there, now try it.” Rey leaned in, their faces so close they were almost touching. Her breath was warm and light on his cheek.
“Like this?” she murmered, twisting it to the left, her fingers slippery and hot against his.
“Eh, maybe…This?” Luke gulped and focused resolutely on the injector. “Ok, now!”
“Ah…” gasped Rey as the injector slipped out. “Now that’s better.” Jessica snorted.
“That’s wha-“
“Don’t. Just don’t,” BB muttered. Jessica smacked her in the arm.
“Uhm, yes. Great!” said Luke, a little too loudly. Rey smiled proudly, cradling the dripping, tapered cylinder in her hand. BB tossed Rey the cloth with a happy giggle.
“Thank you Professor!” said Rey. “I’ll just clean this up and we’ll change the oil.”
“Dibs!” said Jessica, grabbing a screwdriver and crouching down near the oil reservoir. BB pouted and started arranging the removed nuts and bolts in proper replacement order. Rey held the injector carefully and ran the cloth up and down it’s smooth length. Once she’d removed the worst clogs, she got a fresh cloth and encircled it, moving her hand slowly up and down. Then her eyes flicked to his. Luke felt his throat run dry as he realized he’d been staring. She held his gaze and bit her lower lip, smoothed it over with her tongue. She lifted the injector until it was level with her chest, grasped the larger end, and started pumping it rhythmically, breathing in and out with each stroke, giving the end a little twist before she slid back up…
“Professor? Sir!”
“What?” Luke jumped. Snap waved him over, gesticulating franticly with a broken screwdriver. Luke sighed and came back to earth. Looks like it was the first re-drill of the semester…

a/n 2: This is a fuel injector: http://pawlikautomotive.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/cummins-injectors.jpg

a/n: aaaack I screwed up the formatting, here's a fix! To reiterate: Rey is a Mechanical Engineering major, taking a class and practical lab for repairing/designing diesel engines. Luke is the prof.

“Now the most important thing is to keep track of the components. I can’t tell you how many times I wound up with ‘spare parts’ after reassembly.”

A few of the students giggled. Rey just rolled up the sleeves of her grease-spotted coveralls and leaned closer, sighing as her hips pressed against the vibrating engine block. Luke’s stomach flipped as their eyes met…and then darted away, an expression of polite attention on her face.

“Well,” he said, straightening. “To state the obvious, before we can take a look inside, we need to shut the engine down.” There were more giggles. Luke smiled and gestured at Jessica, who was inching towards the kill switch in what she clearly thought was a subtle manner.

“Jessica, if you please?”

The twelve students watched attentively as he walked the third-year engineering student through the shutdown process. It was the first lab, and since most of the students in Diesels 1 had never changed their own wiper fluid, much less disassembled a 6-cylinder Caterpillar engine, he figured he should start with the basics. Soon the engine lurched to a halt. He smiled thankfully at Jessica and had Snap set up the chainfall.

“Today we will be removing the fuel injectors and changing the oil,” he said. “I hope you all brought your toolboxes?” Most of the class nodded. “Excellent. Now, please divide into teams – three to an engine. The instructions are on page 8 of your lab manual. Mr. Dameron and I will be observing. Please do not hesitate if you have a question or require assistance. You have until 2:00. Now get to it!” He clapped his hands and gestured at the four engines set up around the lab.

“It’s a good bunch this year,” said Poe Dameron, a Ph. D candidate and the lab TA. “The demographic’s certainly changed since I was in undergrad. I wonder why?” He shot Luke a sly glance.

“You certainly haven’t changed,” said Luke, in a tone that meant ‘you are so full of it’. …Though Poe did have a point. 8 out of the 12 students in the lab were girls.

“You know there’s a waiting list for this time slot…” Poe continued. Luke rolled his eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be helping someone?”

Poe cracked his very best shit-eating grin.

“You know, Finn over there looks like he needs some help with that torque wrench…”

He mussed his dark hair and sidled over to where the tall, black man was fumbling with said wrench, trying to set it to the correct value, and glancing up at Poe with wide, hopeful eyes. Luke suppressed a grin.

“Professor Skywalker?”

Luke jumped. Rey was standing close enough that he could see the sweat beading on her forehead, and her rosy, blushing cheeks. Well, it is hot in here… he thought, steadying himself.

“What can I do for you Rey?” he asked, taking a careful step back.

“We’re having some issues…” she said, leading him over to her station. Rey, Jessica, and Bea (who went by BB) were clustered around their engine, a green V-4. They’d gotten the cover off and exposed the cylinder heads and fuel injectors, but had so far been unsuccessful with their removal attempts.

“It’s just here,” said Rey, tracing greasy finger over the insertion point. “We detached all the lines, but…it’s just in so deep. Like it doesn’t want to come out.”

“Ok,” said Luke. “Pass me the oil please. And that rag.”
BB and Jessica exchanged a quick, (and rather unnecessarily smirky, in his opinion) look and passed him the items.

“Now sometimes you just have to give it a little extra lubrication, like this,” he said, dripping oil around the head. “Hmm,” he frowned, his long fingers carefully circling the area, oblivious to the fact that he had the three girls’ undivided attention. “The fit is a bit tight…Now, give it a pull…” Rey reached in and tugged gently, to no effect.

“Eh, still nothing,” she said. “Maybe if you – “

“Ok, you hold here and I’ll twist here – there, now try it.” Rey leaned in, their faces so close they were almost touching. Her breath was warm and light on his cheek.

“Like this?” she murmered, twisting it to the left, her fingers slippery and hot against his.

“Eh, maybe…This?” Luke gulped and focused resolutely on the injector.

“Ok, now!”

“Ah…” gasped Rey as the injector slipped out. “Now that’s better.” Jessica snorted.

“That’s wha-“

“Don’t. Just don’t,” BB muttered. Jessica smacked her in the arm.

“Uhm, yes. Great!” said Luke, a little too loudly. Rey smiled proudly, cradling the dripping, tapered cylinder in her hand. BB tossed Rey the cloth with a happy giggle.

“Thank you Professor!” said Rey. “I’ll just clean this up and we’ll change the oil.”

“Dibs!” said Jessica, grabbing a screwdriver and crouching down near the oil reservoir. BB pouted and started arranging the removed nuts and bolts in proper replacement order. Rey held the injector carefully and ran the cloth up and down it’s smooth length. Once she’d removed the worst clogs, she got a fresh cloth and encircled it, moving her hand slowly up and down. Then her eyes flicked to his. Luke felt his throat run dry as he realized he’d been staring. She held his gaze and bit her lower lip, smoothed it over with her tongue. She lifted the injector until it was level with her chest, grasped the larger end, and started pumping it rhythmically, breathing in and out with each stroke, giving the end a little twist before she slid back up…

“Professor? Sir!”

“What?” Luke jumped. Snap waved him over, gesticulating franticly with a broken screwdriver. Luke sighed and came back to earth. Looks like it was the first re-drill of the semester…

a/n 2: This is a fuel injector: http://pawlikautomotive.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/cummins-injectors.jpg

requester anon and this is just as amazing as the rest. I headed over to Ao3 to slap a bookmark on this baby. Thank you for filling and doing so so admirably!

It was not, Hux considered, the worst thing he’d ever done.

In fact, it didn’t even rank as the worst thing he’d done this week. Which probably said more about him than he would have liked.

Luckily, his conscience had always been a thing that he could switch on and off at will, as easy as putting out a light. It was the first skill he’d learned after the Academy; how to smile and laugh and seem to care, right up until the moment that caring no longer benefited him.

~

“Where did you learn to do this?” Hux asks, some time later. The two of them are clustered around a pitifully small campfire, struck with the heat from Ren’s lightsaber and some strips of the insulating foam from their ship that Hux had carried in his makeshift pack. Their supper is roasting over the fire. The rest of what Hux is tentatively thinking of as ‘rations’ has been laid out to dry on a large stone. Ren’s idea.

He’s not entirely sure he wants to know the answer to his question, but surely anything will be better than this awkward silence.

Ren stares at him, expressionless, for long enough that his skin starts to crawl. “Self-reliance is a part of my training,” he says finally, just when Hux is beginning to reconsider the many merits of awkward silences. After a moment’s hesitation, he adds, “And we used to go camping when I was young.”

“Camping?”

“It’s when you-“

“I know what it is,” he grates out. “I can’t picture you doing it.”

Ren doesn’t answer. He never has been one for small-talk. The first time Hux had met the man, he’d thought to give Snoke’s favorite an official welcome by hosting a formal reception with a handful of his senior officers. He’d thought it would make a good first impression. What he’d got had been Kylo Ren sitting awkwardly at a dinner table, giving hostile, monosyllabic answers to questions and refusing to remove his helmet even long enough to eat until, one-by-one, everyone else had stopped eating too out of sheer discomfort. As a finishing move, halfway through the dinner Ren had simply gotten up and walked out. Their relationship, such as it was, had only gone downhill from there.

Hux sighs, vaguely irritated at being forced to work both ends of the conversation. He missed TR-4022 already. “Where did you go camping?”

“Kashyyk, mostly. Tattooine once.” There is an edge of anxiety in his voice, as if he’s being interrogated

“Did you enjoy it?”

“No. You know you don’t have to talk to me.” Ren says. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t need you to boost my morale.”

Hux pauses, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He considers denying it. Considers, ‘nonsense, I want to talk to you,’ but they would both know he was lying. Anyway, he doesn’t think he could manage it with a straight face and so he doesn’t try. “It’s that or think about what we’re eating,” He offers, levelly.

“Protein,” Ren says, with a little shrug of one shoulder.

“Oh, is that all it is?” he says, dryer than the sun-parched sand around them.

“Ultimately, yes. It’s no different than eating an animal. Out of everything I’ve done, this isn’t going to be one of the things I lose sleep over.”

‘One of the things.’ Hux files that observation away for further perusal. What do you lose sleep over, Lord Ren?

He says, “I suppose you’re right,” leaning back on his elbows and stretching his legs out alongside their fire to warm them while Ren prods at the food. The promise of a full stomach in the very near future has made him amiable, even to the likes of Kylo Ren. The insulating foam smells acrid and chemical as it burns, but it’s doing the job well enough. He ticks a small mental box of congratulations for himself on bringing it.

“I’m surprised you’re so calm,” Ren says, after a while. “Considering.” He indicates their makeshift supper.

Hux frowns. “Why should I not be calm?”

“He was your friend.”

“I was friendly to him. We weren’t friends. There’s a difference.” Friendship, like weather, was one of those things that happened to other people. It was a weakness he couldn’t afford.

“Is there?” To Hux’s surprise, Ren sounds genuinely perplexed.

“Obviously.” He manages a wan smile as he takes a small but unhesitant bite. “You might be surprised what people will give you if you offer them something other than piss and vinegar in return, Ren. It doesn’t cost me to be nice.”

“You’re never nice to me.”

“You irritate me. Something which no one else manages, I might add. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Hux huffs an almost-laugh, “It wasn’t-“

“I know,” he cuts him off, quietly.

They eat in silence, neither of them quite managing to look the other in the eye while he does so.

“This isn't bad. A bit tough,” Ren says, chewing thoughtfully.

“Well, a good soldier ought to be.”

Ren snorts so loudly that he chokes on air. His shoulders shake as he makes short little gasping sounds. It takes Hux a moment to realize that he’s laughing.

“Did… did you really-“

Hux frowns, pulling a face as he mentally reviews his previous statement. “…It just sort-of slipped out.”

Ren is full-out laughing now, with one fist pressed over his mouth to stifle the sounds. It isn’t a terribly menacing laugh. He snorts.

The ridiculous sound of Ren’s laughter makes him snicker, shaking his head, and before he quite realizes what is happening they are both giggling like children at some immature joke. The sheer absurdity of the situation only adds fuel to his laughter- had anyone told him a few days ago that in the very near future he would be laughing with Kylo Ren, over a terrible pun of all things, he would have had them sent for reconditioning. And yet, here they are.

They don’t go much further that evening. Hux is displeased, reassessing the distance and rate at which they will have to travel yet again, but Ren insists that their supplies will take time to dry properly. He comforts himself with the thought that, with just the two of them, they will move an estimated 8% faster.

The wind kicks up just around sunset, gaining speed and strength as it whistles through the rough outcroppings of stone where they have holed up for the night. It howls, tugging at his clothes and pushing chilled fingers through the bundle he has made for himself out of his greatcoat and the cloak. Every time he thinks he has managed to secure a bit of comfort, the wind catches at a corner of fabric and yanks a new entrance for itself. It is testing his strength and his patience.

He glances up at Ren, who is asleep sitting up, leaning back against a large rock. He has hunkered down under a bit of an overhang, the stone sheltering him from the wind. It had seemed ridiculous to Hux at the time, but after what feels like hours spent fighting the elements, he is beginning to reconsider. After a moment, he stands, dragging the coat and cloak with him.

“Move over,” Hux says, nudging Ren with his leg. Ren shuffles sideways obligingly, only half awake, freeing up a bit of space under the overhang for Hux to sit and curl his knees up against his chest. He tucks the coat around himself, bunching it up around his shoulders to ward off the cold.

After several minutes of taut shivering as the wind buffets around the rock-face, Hux finds himself finally beginning to drift. The last thing he is aware of before sleep overtakes him is his head slipping sideways to rest on Ren’s shoulder.

He dreams about Lexander. It is the sort of pining, pathetic dream that he thought had beaten into submission years ago. Hux dreams of their first deployment together on the Mercenary, fresh out of the Academy, and of slipping down the hall to his quarters in the middle of the rest cycle. About picking his way across a floor scattered with clothes and belongings in the dark, taking care not to trip over a stray belt or crush a datapad under his feet as he went. As always, he made a mental note to badger Lexander into picking up his mess when the next cycle started, knowing that no matter what he said, the conversation would end with Hux doing the cleaning. It always did, though somehow he rarely minded.

Whenever his head was buzzing too loudly with plans and counterplans and worries for him to sleep, Hux would slip into Lexander’s bed, curling up behind him and burying his face in the other man’s soft hair. Lexander had a mass of black curls that he wore up in a tight regulation tieback when he was on duty, but he left it loose when he slept. Hux loved his hair. Had. Had loved his hair. He would be asleep in minutes after crawling into Lexander’s bed, lulled by the sound of his breathing.

That is what he dreams of now. Of the familiar warmth and comfort of shared body-heat and the peaceful little sounds of another person asleep beside him. It’s soft and sweet and completely deplorable. Disgustingly unfair. He has barely even thought about his first lover for years. What possible reason could there be for it to happen now?

He wakes torn between the lingering sweetness of the dream and the growing horror of someone poking around the back of his mind. Somewhere in the middle there is a fleeting sensation of Kylo Ren standing over the bed watching him and Lexander sleep.

yessss /waits for more

I was about to put my laptop to sleep, but I saw this update. OH HOLD UP WAIT A MINUTE.

That conversation was so awkward, I love it. XD Both trying to remind themselves that they've done worse things, both trying not to think about what they're eating, omg... Kylo feeling interrogated was well done, like you knew he expected follow-up questions. The break in tension and weirdness was good, too.

The last 4-8 paragraphs though? Asdfghjkl. I know I'm a sucker for sappy fluffy normalcy for these two idiots, but damn. YES. Especially how current Hux reacts to it, haha. But but but that last paragraph... I hit F5 out of blind hope for more.

this is absolute goddamn beauty

Muahahahahahaha everything is transpiring according to MY DESIGN!!!! iknewafewofyouwereonhere...and now I have confirmation YAYYYYY!! I'm DEFINITELY in that comm (and have also definitely zoomed through the archives waaaay too often >:D). And though I haven't been on LJ for awhile...(I'm lightpoint HI THAR)

[“Camping?”

“It’s when you-“

“I know what it is,”]

BAHAHA. That whole exchange had me literally laughing out loud. Poor TR-4022.

Bless you for writing this thing.

dkjghlaugh :B my loins are now on FIRE. Perfection A++++

“This isn't bad. A bit tough,” Ren says, chewing thoughtfully.

“Well, a good soldier ought to be.”

I just threw my hands up in the air in silent reverence. This fic is so wonderful and twisted. I am grinning like ghoul.

Hux's dream/memory was very nicely done -- I really like the name 'Lexander' btw, it seems very First Order-y -- I can't wait to see what he does about dream-invader Kylo. Your story pacing is truly excellent and maddening!

Disclaimer: this is legit my first time writing anything ever , there's lots of italics & there isn't much dialogue, I hope that's okay. if anyone even sees this, idk? please be gentle.
--------

It's dead quiet when Finn steps out of the 'fresher and goes to join Poe in bed. BB-8 is silent, slipping into standby mode as soon as she confirmed Finn was in for the night and the current base's natural soundproofing is ever present. The base on Meris VI was built deep below the surface, the Resistance having learned what not to do on a planet like it from everything that went wrong with Echo Base. It was so deep that the usual background noise from living on military grounds was either far above the barracks or muffled by walls of ice and rock.

Finn is glad for it, because he doesn't want anything to disturb the delicate vision before him. Poe is deeply asleep, the stress of fighting a war while pregnant putting him down faster and deeper than usual. He's got one hand underneath his head, tucked under those loose dark curls, and another at the base of his large belly, unconsciously keeping his family safe. Finn is no different. No matter how they go to sleep, they often wake with Finn at Poe's back, both arms wrapped protectively around his most important people. He slides into this position now, curling around his husband's smaller frame and gently resting his hand on the taut, protruding skin. That's the other beautiful thing about the silence. It makes it easy for him to enjoy his son and daughter moving around. He can feel them, for sure. But when it's silent like this he likes to believe he can hear all their little movements and kicks too.

He can't wait to meet them; sometimes he can't believe that this is really happening. For a man that had nothing not that long ago, it's overwhelming for him to have his own little family. The Damerons. He'd officially become Finn Dameron three standard months before, when they were working on names for the babies and realized Finn would be the only one of them not named Dameron. He'd been silently thinking of himself as such for the past 2 years anyway, before they'd even left D'Qar. He was happy to just get his information updated with the biodata registrar, but Poe wanted to 'do this the right way'. The right way was General Organa officiating their joining ceremony in one of Meris VI's temples with Rey and Jess as witnesses. BB-8, not to be left out, insisted on using her lighter to light the ceremonial candles that were supposed to signify their love. Finn privately thought no candle could capture the depth and breadth of what he felt for the galaxy's best pilot, and he was secure in knowing Poe felt the same about him.

It was a beautiful night in the middle of a lull, where their small group, joined by Chewie, Snap, Iolo and Kare, could sit in the mess hall and enjoy some festivities without feeling too guilty or tense about it. General Organa even had more than one drink with them and Poe didn't smack Jess when she made jokes about them doing things backwards. Luke had come by for a bit, hovered and mumbled something that could have been congratulations or some kind of warning before departing with R2D2. He'd been back with them a while and still seemed to have difficulty remembering how to interact with people. Rey assured them he was full of well wishes, but Leia only rolled her eyes and told Rey to stop coddling him and translating. He was a grown man who could use his words. C3PO came by as well, really in search of the General, but noted that he was glad they were completing their task list on schedule. That was very important you know, especially with finicky things like babies. They didn't care about your timetables. Oh Maker, the stories he'd heard.

C3PO had jumped the gun a bit then, but it was going to be any day now. At their last check-up, Doc Kalonia said that one way or another, she'd be delivering the babies before the end of the standard month.
“You're ready and they're ready, Commander, but your children appear to be in no hurry show their faces. Already inherited your tendency to hide from my infirmary, I see”. Finn valiantly pointed out that Poe had visited him almost every day in the infirmary while he was recovering from Kylo Ren's attack, but the Major remained unmoved.

It hadn't always been a smooth journey. Never mind the very beginning, the twins still unknown, when Poe collapsed in the middle of an intelligence briefing. Unaware that he was now providing for three, he'd been running himself extra hard to get the Resistance the advantage over a couple new First Order outposts that had cropped up in recon. Finn knew in that moment just how much he loved the other man, because even fear for his own life, the fear that sent him running from the First Order, never felt as powerful as the terror that gripped him when his lover's eyes rolled back that day. That was the day Finn learned he would become a father.
First there was the shock, since Poe didn't even know he could carry. Male carriers and female donors weren't unheard of, even on the base, what with how many variations of Human there were in the galaxy. But usually this was something families knew about themselves. Unfortunately, this particular gene had passed down through Poe's mother's family. His father knew very little of them, her home planet no longer existed, and she'd left him for the stars before he was at an age where it might be relevant. Finn was sure he'd walked around open mouthed for days, unable to wrap his mind around children. Him? How? He was still coming to terms with being his own person, sometimes. But when Poe came to him, quietly in the night, to talk about 'other options', how he didn't expect anything, if he didn't want it that was okay, Finn was free to leave, and other reassurances in that vein, it didn't matter what he was to himself. He was sure about one thing and that was going to be his role of Father. Poe had looked at him when he said that, a small, hesitant smile on his face reminiscent of when they agreed to take that TIE fighter but somehow a thousand times better. That smile was worth anything that this decision would bring.
There was the constant nausea and the aches and the pains and the moods, so out of place on a man who was usually ready to go, always with a smile. Toughest of all was when Poe reached the point in his pregnancy when he could no longer fly. The other pilots knew how ornery he could be when grounded, but that had never been for longer than a couple weeks before. Even then, he'd sneak in a training run here and there. Months? Force, there were moments Finn had to remind himself hug. don't strangle. If he had to hear about how Shara Bey flew while pregnant one more time...

But then also came the first kick, the growing excitement around the base, the betting pools about names and genders and due dates and all these things that Finn couldn't imagine he'd ever experience.
“I'm just saying, Commander. As your second in command -fine, third in command. You're welcome, Snap- it's only right that I get some advance notice. What kind of friend doesn't help their friend win credits based on a few little details like when my niece and nephew are supposed to arrive?” “Goodbye, Testor. Don't you have drills to run? Several of them?”

It was hard to ignore that the twins' impending birth had lifted spirits around the base. New life was always a blessing, especially in these times when loss happened daily. New life from two of the Resistance's most beloved members? That had everyone buzzing.
Finn was beyond grateful for all the support they were getting, but he was at the point where he didn't care about anyone else. He just wanted to see his children delivered safe and sound and soon, his husband on the other side of the almost year long journey. He was thankful they'd had a relatively safe experience and was sure it would continue through until he was holding them.

He should have known better.

a/n: Jess was not born yesterday

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Mmmm,” said Rey, not looking up from her Fluid Mechanics textbook.
Rey’s mattress creaked as Jessica sat down heavily.

“Rey, remember last month when the coolant line blew out on my Mustang?”

“Uhm, yeah…And if you’d brought it in three months ago – “

“- I wouldn’t have been stranded fifty miles outside town in the middle of a snowstorm. We’ve been through this.” Rey threw up her hands, book forgotten.

“What is it Jess?”

“Who did I call?”

“What?”

“Who did I call at the ass crack of dawn and ask her to grab her tow truck and haul my beautiful, bruised baby to her garage? Who did I pay to replace the entire coolant system?”

“Ah.”

Jess rolled her eyes.

“There is absolutely no reason for you to be in that class, Rey.”

“What about an easy A?” Rey gestured at the small mountain of textbooks and notes that were fighting a bitter cold war with her collection of salvaged computer components for her half of the dorm room. “I could seriously use a GPA cushion – this semester is going to be horrible. And besides,” she said, sighing, “Working on engines relaxes me.” It was Jessica’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll be it does. ‘Help me Professor Skywalker, you’re my only hope!’ ”

“Je-esssss,” Rey groaned. “It was not like that.” Jess lifted an eyebrow.

“'It’s in so deep?’ Oh my God Rey….”

“In my defense it was jammed in there pretty good. Whoever worked on that engine last really fucked up the rebuild. Now, don’t you have homework or something?”

“I mean, seriously, well-played,” Jess continued, pointedly ignoring her roommate. “If there’s any way to get a guy to lend a hand…” Jess smirked as Rey flushed brightly enough to be seen from space.

“He knows what he’s doing,” said Rey. Privately, she was quite relieved. She’d transferred from Jakku Community College last semester, and she’d endured some magnificently incompetent instruction in the mechanical arts while accumulating enough credits to clear her engineering prereqs. There were times (such as this class) that Mt. Resistance University felt like an entirely different planet.

Of course, she was a number of other things besides relieved. The first week had been…interesting. Class had been bad enough. She sat in the front, as was her usual habit, powered up her laptop, rubbed the cobwebs out of her eyes, and almost dumped her coffee all over her lap when Professor Skywalker walked through the door. By themselves, the sharp, intelligent blue eyes, neatly trimmed silver hair and beard, and tailored tweed suit would have rendered her speechless. The complete package meant that it would take an earthquake to move her from her seat.

And then he took off his jacket.

Rey knew she was doomed.

It got worse at the first lab. Professor Skywalker had introduced the TA, run down the syllabus, and walked them through a basic breakdown procedure. They’d split into two groups, so Rey had a front row seat when her professor went to work.

Rey was good with machines. She knew it, her friends knew it, and her customers at the J-Squared Scrapyard knew it. But Luke – No, Professor Skywalker, damn it – was something else entirely. She was pretty sure she was gaping like a newb, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off his hands as they danced from tool to engine and back again with a steady confidence and familiarity that Rey was constantly reaching for, but rarely achieved even with her T-Bird, which she knew like the back of her hand.

The memory of him leaning over the engine block, coverall sleeves rolled up, frowning with concentration as oil-spotted fingers coaxed a response out of that old, gummed up receiver line stayed with her into the evening.

She’d lain in the dark, waited for Jessica’s breathing to even out in sleep, and allowed her mind to wander back to the sharp tangy smell of cutting fluid and oil, the feel of smooth, warm metal under her fingers, and the absolute focus of her professor had for his work. She thought of what it would be like to have that focus concentrated on her, to have those long, clever fingers in -

“ - I’ll be he does,” said Jess, snapping Rey back into the conversation. “When a man is good with his hands…”

“Jess, come on…” Her roommate smiled and waved her hands playfully.

“Ok, ok I get it. Plausible deniability,” she said. And winked.

Rey groaned and flopped back onto her bed.

What am I going to do?

Author here: I fucked up my own timeline - this is what happenes when I post after 2 in the morning. Part 1 is the most recent lab in the context of the story. The conversation in Part 2 happens a few hours afterwards Part 1.

Aaaaaaah, I should have known better than to read this without checking if all the parts were finished. Good start, look forward to reading it when finished.

YES. I'm so glad this is getting a fill, looking forward to copious amounts of jealousy and blood!

At first the Inglourious Basterds names sort of took me out of the story, but then I imagined Christoph Waltz smarming out a cheerily insulting 'Miss', and it was perfect.

yes, an update! :D :D
Can't wait for Ben to finally meet the resistance

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 194 of 220

PROMPT POST #3 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts! Go here

Fill: Colder Than the Moon (1/?), Kylo/Fem!Hux, Hux/M!OC

Re: Always Mine [1/1]

Re: FILL: Finn/Poe chubby!poe [2/2]

FILL(1/???) Blood in the Water

Re: Always Mine [1/1]

Re: Fill: AO3 link

Re: Fill: "When Eagles Fall Out (of the sky)" (3/3) Leia/Phasma, Phasma surrenders

Re: Fill: Colder Than the Moon (1/?), Kylo/Fem!Hux, Hux/M!OC

FILL: Valve Lash (1/3): Re: Luke/Rey College Au

Re: FILL: Valve Lash (1/3) FIXED FORMAT: Re: Luke/Rey College Au

Re: Fill: AO3 link

FILL pt 7. (warnings for non-graphic cannibalism, bad puns, and fluff)

Re: Fill: Colder Than the Moon (1/?), Kylo/Fem!Hux, Hux/M!OC

Re: FILL pt 7. (warnings for non-graphic cannibalism, bad puns, and fluff)

Re: Fill: Glorious and Awe-Inspiring (and Cute)

Re: Kylux - Palpatine's Legacy

Re: FILL pt 7. (warnings for non-graphic cannibalism, bad puns, and fluff)

Re: FILL: Kylo/Hux - Playfighting

Re: FILL pt 7. (warnings for non-graphic cannibalism, bad puns, and fluff)

[Mini Fill] Re: Finn/Poe, mpreg [1/?]

FILL: Valve Lash (2/3) FIXED FORMAT: Re: Luke/Rey College Au

Re: FILL: Valve Lash (2/3) FIXED FORMAT: Re: Luke/Rey College Au

Re: [Mini Fill] Re: Finn/Poe, mpreg [1/?]

Re: Fill: Colder Than the Moon (1/?), Kylo/Fem!Hux, Hux/M!OC

Re: FILL: Dancing Heel and Toe (gen, background Poe/Rey/Finn) 3/?