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PROMPT POST #4

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prompt post one
prompt post two
prompt post three

+ 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

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Whee! Thanks for updating this. I love it!

oh gosh, this fic is so lovely <3

My extensive research on this matter (five seconds on wookieepedia) says kites ARE a thing: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Dragon_kite
and because it's star wars, this simple childhood pleasure involves combat for some reason. Fingers-crossed that Kylo get's beaten up by a kite in the next film.

Whimsy is definitely forbidden on Arkanis, but I bet exhibitions of The Decadent Distractions Of The New Republic were popular as class field trips, kids coming in to perfect their disdainful sneers. Hux still doesn't know what a kite is because he never had to go on those trips, he's been sneering at a post-graduate level since before he could walk.

So, this is a million years late but i had it on a list and decided to write something as a warm up. Hope you don't mind another post.

ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6888997

BLESS MY SOUL IT'S A REQUEST FOR MY OTP???

gimme a few days to a week but i gotchoo OP

Yay, there's more! Poe does deserve all the nice things.

[A/N: Dearest nonny, what a lovely prompt! It put me in mind of a letter I once saw in a self-help column, so I sure hope you like Hux having a lot of sexual hang-ups. I hope you enjoy!]

Palette

In hindsight, it was foolish of Hux to think he could hide it from Ren indefinitely. No matter how touch-starved and inexperienced he suspected Ren of being when they began this stupid, dangerous affair, eventually Ren is going to notice that Hux never lets him reciprocate. It doesn't matter how many times Hux goes down on him and claimed to have come just from that.

(That's not technically, a lie. Hux does get off on orally pleasuring someone, especially if he’s masturbating furiously at the same time.)

He just didn't think Ren would notice tonight. But it's his fault for letting Ren into his actual bed, although they've been trysting in his quarters like rational people at his insistence. He hadn't been planning on going there this evening, but it's very difficult to resist Ren, especially when he's already sprawled naked in Hux's sheets.

So Hux didn't.

The heavy petting is going well, very well, up until Ren's hand slides from Hux's hip to his cock.

Hux writhes awkwardly on his side, trying to discreetly dislodge Ren's questing hand without alerting Ren to his true intention. He manages it by grabbing Ren's hand and encouraging him to palm his ass instead. "Touch me," he groans into Ren's mouth, to cover his tracks, and again, when Ren gropes the flesh in his hand and digs his fingertips into Hux's skin.

Ren is stupidly fond of what little passes for his ass, so it works—but only for a moment. Ren is a man of rare focus when he wants to be, and he cannot be easily dissuaded from what he's set his mind to doing. When he actually grabs at Hux's entire kit, Hux shies away instinctively from the assault on his genitals and bats Ren's hand away.

Ren rears his head back, chin jutting into his neck. His hand hangs in the air uselessly, before falling to pet awkwardly at his own chest. A scowl twists his asymmetrical face. "I want to touch you," he says.

On anyone else, such a statement would probably sound seductive, but out of Ren's mouth, it's rough and petulant. Hux's eyelid flickers as he suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at Ren. Instead, he settles for fixing Ren with an unimpressed look.

Ren relaxes his neck and chews on his lower lip for a moment. "I want to make you come," he amends. His dark eyes search Hux's face, and Hux feels himself start to flush with embarrassment. Oh, stars, this is exactly why he didn't want to bring this up now. Or, ideally, ever.

But the moment has come, despite his best efforts, and Hux has not gotten where he is by running away from moments such as these. "Well, you can't," he says, with an air of finality, and rolls over, turning his back on Ren. His weight sinks into the divot of the mattress where he usually sleeps, and he wishes it would swallow him up.

He tenses when he feels Ren's hand press against his shoulder blade. "What?"

Hux stares a grim hole into the door of his refresher. There's no good way to explain this to someone, but he does have a prepared statement. Fat lot of good it's ever done him. "For a variety of reasons that I don't want to get into," Hux says, carefully, "I have developed a very limited sexual palette."

"Limited to what?" Ren's breath is warm on the back of Hux's neck. Hux resists the urge to glance down and see if the flush on his face has made its way to his chest.

"My hand," Hux says, defeated.

Hux fully expects Ren to get up and walk out, despite his compromised state. It happened the first time, and he's taken measures ever since to make sure it doesn't happen again—focusing maniacally on his rare partners, making sure he touches himself before they can get at him, and, once, out of sheer desperation, faking coming in his pants.

But Ren doesn't. Instead, he hooks his chin over Hux's shoulder, rubbing his hand along Hux's side. Hux's skin flushes at the contact. "Okay," Ren murmurs into his ear. "Okay. What can I do?"

The question takes Hux completely by surprise. "I suppose you could watch, but—"

His answer goes unfinished as Ren wraps his arms around him and rolls them onto his back. Ren shuffles backwards on the mattress until he's sitting up, Hux awkwardly coiled in his lap.

"What are you doing?" Hux demands.

Ren rubs a hand over Hux's stomach, making Hux's eyelids flutter. "You said I could watch," Ren repeats, in a tone that implies Hux is a little slow on the uptake. Hux rolls his eyes. "Show me how you do it."

Hux's eyebrows knit in confusion. Why does Ren want to watch him masturbate? He must be more inexperienced than Hux initially suspected, if he's that curious. But Hux feels himself flush again, with a sensation entirely disparate from embarrassment. "Alright," he agrees, softly, and then, louder, "Spread your legs, then. I need to sit."

Ren parts his powerful thighs, and Hux slides down to sit on the mattress. Ren draws up his knees, bracketing Hux's bent legs, and hugs Hux closer to him. Hux can feel Ren's half-hard cock press against his ass. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting himself relax against Ren's broad chest. As Ren continues to trace light, erratic patterns over his stomach, he takes himself in hand.

He's soft, embarrassment having driven all desire from him, but his cock slowly swells under the familiar attentions of his hand. Ren is warm, almost hot, at his back and at his front, where his arms are still wrapped around his chest. Ren presses their heads together, and Hux catches Ren's strange, scorched scent. It sends a faint wave of arousal through him.

When Ren kisses the side of his face awkwardly, wetly, Hux groans, feeling himself stiffen to full attention.

"You like this," Ren says, tone questioning. He nuzzles at Hux, and another soft wave of pleasure washes over him.

"Yes," Hux admits. He does like it. He loves it—Ren's hands on his skin, the lushness of Ren's mouth, the rare opportunity to feel outsized so spectacularly. Ren would never have made it to his bed if he didn't. "But it doesn't get me off."

"Does it have to?" Ren asks. One arm curls away from Hux's chest, leaving him feeling a little cold. Hux opens his eyes. His gaze flickers from where his hand is occupied to where Ren's hand comes to rest, fingertips tracing circles on his thigh. Ren's hand feels pleasingly heavy on his flesh, and he watches, stroking himself, as Ren's fingers traverse his skin, tracing lines against his inner thighs, ruffling the hair on his legs. He shudders, cock pulsing hotly in his hand.

"Ah. I thought that was rather the point of the entire exercise, Ren," Hux says.

Ren hums neutrally. "Have you tried doing it differently?"

Hux's hand loosens on his cock as he rolls his eyes elaborately. "Oh, thank you, Ren!" He mocks. "It's simply somehow never occurred to me to alter my technique, I'll get right on that immediately." His erection wilts slightly in his hand as he feels suddenly, overwhelmingly, self-conscious. Hux presses his lips together and glares at it.

"I didn't mean…" Ren murmurs into his ear, breath hot on Hux's skin. He swallows. "I mean, do you do anything else? When you make yourself come?"

"Well, I—" Hux's free hand flies to his chest automatically, barely brushing his soft nipple. Ren covers Hux's left hand with his own, leaning down to kiss his neck. Hux groans. The sound feels like it's coming from deeper and deeper within his body.

Ren pinches, presses, and kneads at his nipple with his calloused fingertips. Hux's hand on his cock stutters as it throbs. His breathing comes faster and faster. His face is flushed so crimson his scalp is tingling. Ren groans. The sound vibrates through Hux, imposing on his heartbeat.

The hand on Hux's thigh tucks into the crease of his leg. Ren presses their legs together as he rubs his thick cock against Hux's ass. His thick, hard cock.

"You're getting off on this," Hux says, half-accusatory, half-surprised.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Ren says, in the same tone. Ren grunts and tries to press closer to Hux, squeezing him, but they're practically sharing skin at this point. Hux bites back a moan as his cock leaks. "Fuck, Hux," Ren gasps into his ear, and begins to lick and mouth at Hux's neck.

They move in silence for a moment, Hux's hand twisting around his cock, Ren rutting against him, until Ren lifts his mouth from Hux's neck to moan, "We'll do other things."

The statement implies intimacy. It implies progression. It shocks Hux into sarcasm. "Oh, we're a we now, are we?"

Ren ignores him. His breath is coming out in short gasps now, and Hux shudders as he feels precome smear at the base of his spine. Ren presses his head tightly against Hux's, his gasping breath loud and lurid in his ear. "You could—you could jerk off on my face."

An image immediately pops into Hux’s head, of Ren kneeling at his feet, nuzzling and mouthing hungrily at the slim meat of his inner thigh, Hux coming onto his face with a choked groan. Hux hisses, grimacing, a wave of pleasure crashing through him.

The image spools on without him, and he recognizes Ren’s mental handiwork. “Get out of my head,” Hux orders softly, even as the image of Ren licking his obscene, plush lips clean of Hux’s come makes him shudder, ache, and leak. Oh, he's close, and sooner than he anticipated.

"You could—"

"Ren, this will go a lot faster if you would just shut up," Hux hisses, and hisses again when he feels precome drip onto his knuckles.

"Doesn't have to be fast," Ren sighs into his ear, but he does falls silent.

Hux's balls draw up tight as he approaches his peak. He feels more in his body than he usually does at this point, anchored by Ren's wet mouth on his neck, Ren's hands on his body, Ren's cock thick and hot at his back.

"Oh, fuck!" he hisses helplessly, as he starts to come. He gasps when Ren grabs his hair to tilt his head, smashing their lips together. Hux pumps furiously into his hand, come drooling down his fingers in thick, white spurts, groaning into Ren's hot mouth. Normally, when he comes, it just feels like he's plateauing, but this is different. This is intense. "Shit!" he hisses, as his hips stutter to a halt.

He squeezes himself longer than he needs to, out of habit, and then sags against Ren. Ren holds him for a minute, nuzzling at him, before rolling them both onto their sides. Hux feels so boneless that he nearly just rolls over onto his front, but Ren palms his upturned hip to keep him up—and to press his wet cock against the slight curve of Hux's ass.

Ren gasps and ruts furiously against him, like an animal. He comes with a long, low, guttural moan, spilling all over Hux's lower back. He takes a whining breath, and then topples sideways against Hux. He rolls Hux nearly face-down on the mattress with his weight, sprawling on top of him, his own face pressed between Hux's shoulder blades.

Distantly, Hux is disgusted at the fact that Ren's come is now smeared between them, but, in the moment, he's much more interested in how good Ren's weight feels pressing on him.

This is the closest he's ever come to being fucked, Hux thinks, and, for the first time in his life, he finds himself intrigued by the idea.

Perhaps his sexual palette is capable of expanding after all.

After a few minutes, Ren's weight crosses the line from pleasurable to oppressive. "Get off," Hux mutters. Ren groans in protest, but obeys, sliding off Hux with a slick, squelching noise to lay next to him. When Hux feels able, he rolls onto his side.

"Next time," Ren murmurs, tucking his dark head against Hux's chest, "Next time, maybe I could put my hand on yours."

Hux traces the side of Ren's face with his fingers, watching, fascinated, as Ren closes his eyes and leans into his touch. Ren must have been a virgin, Hux concludes, before they met. He has to have been, to be so patient for so little.

Unless, of course, Ren actually likes him, and that idea is so patently absurd that Hux laughs into Ren's sweaty hair.

This is so hot, and yet so weirdly sweet..! I hope OP enjoys it as much as this humble anon did~

Yeah Hux, of course Ren's a virgin or something. There's no way he likes you or anything.

Also. I am dead. This is so freaking hot.

A+, authornon! that was gorgeous.

This is just beautiful...so hot, but also strangely moving? Like, Hux is literally discovering intimacy...it's so alien to him, he doesn't even recognize it at first! And it's hot, and funny, and sweet, but also just...anon, I am getting a little teary-eyed here!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/6902308

Yesssss! I love creative solutions to sexual hang-ups and this was so hot. That last line is amazing, twisted, Hux truly is limited, but with Ren sighing about how it "doesn't have to be fast" and already talking about "next time" I'm inclined to think he's up to the sexy challenge. A+++++!

It's smut *and* feels! My favorite <3

i cried at the end of this

Yaaasss I loved this! Ren may be inexperienced but he can still teach Hux a thing or two in bed. Sequel where we see him show Hux how good it can be with other things? (Like getting fucked by a big dick :D)

OMG than you everyone for the wonderful comments on this fic. I'm actually super excited to finally post the last part of this beast of a fic. Thank you for everyone who has stuck with me, even with my bit of wandering from the prompt. I hope you all enjoy the last part!

-

“I want to learn to understand Flaurion.” Poe tells Zadan a few days later. “It’s not fair that they can understand me and I can’t reciprocate, and you can’t always be with me when I want to go out.”

Zadan beams at him, “I can arrange for a tutor, it was how I learned. It is doubtful that you will be able to pick of the entire language during the rest of your time here but we can arrange for some holo discs to take with you when you leave. That is if you will still wish to continue learning at that time.”

Poe nods feeling pleased at the idea, one hand pressed against his distended stomach where he can feel the eggs shifting when he moves. He wants to stay in contact with Oolfan, Vveeda and the children after they’re born. “Yeah, I would really like that.”

-

Over the next two weeks Poe learns more about being an incubation parent and what to expect as the days go on. He’s told that the day the eggs are laid is known as a push day and that the eggs hatch within hours of being laid.

Both Zadan and the royal physician Ghaalf go over every detail of the laying with him. There will be some discomfort, possibly even pain at first but once the labour starts Poe will be move to the laying tub where the waters should sooth away much of the pain of the laying process. Once the eggs are laid he will be moved into a bacta bath so that his body can heal from the laying.

Oolfan and Vveeda are making sure no expense is spared to ensure that Poe is both comfortable throughout the incubation as well as the egg laying. It’s not just his physical wellbeing they see to but they make sure he’s doing alright mentally and emotionally as well. Poe rarely finds himself alone, if he isn’t with one of his egg partners than he’s with Zadan or the tutor that is teaching him to understand Flaurion.

He’s also permitted to make frequent holocalls to the Resistance. Most of the time he speaks with Leia, telling her about how he’s doing and listening to her go over what’s been happening during his absence. He also talks to his pilots a lot, whether it’s one or two of them together or a group of them all together trying to talk over each other. They all miss him and think he’s crazy for doing this but of course they support him. During his absence Karé and Iolo have taken temporary command and Iolo assures him with a mischievous grin that they might let him take it back when he returns.

Poe’s favourite calls are those he has with Finn though, BB-8 at his side, telling Poe about their day and all the things he’s learning. Listening to the two of them makes Poe feel truly homesick and he promises them he’ll be back soon and that he’ll make up for his absence when he is. Finn tells him to take his time and make sure that he takes care of himself, they’ll be here waiting when he gets back.

Just once, about two weeks into his incubation, Poe called his father on Yavin IV something he hadn’t done in months. His father had been startled when Poe told him what was going on but had been supportive. The promise of bringing pictures of his grandbabies was heavily stressed. The call had ended with Poe fighting back tears, forgetting how much such calls with his father made him miss the man so kriffing much.

Even with the discomfort he feels sometimes at having his stomach so large and having the eggs within him, Poe actually finds that he enjoys himself greatly during the three weeks leading up to his push day. Both Oolfan and Vveeda dote on him constantly and Poe enjoys spending time with them individually or together. If the way they treat him is any indication, Poe is certain two Flaurions are going to make amazing parents.

-

The pains begin around noon twenty-three days after Poe was incubated and they hit Poe like a raging bantha, almost bowling him over. By this time Poe can only manage being on his feet for shorts spurts of time before his back and ankles get too sore. Added to that he looks like swallowed BB-8 with how huge his stomach is.

When the pains hit Poe is glad that he’s been spending the day with Vveeda in the gardens around the palace, if he’d been alone he wouldn’t know what to do. Ever since the three week mark had passed Poe has been under constant supervision as they wait for the eggs to be laid.

Poe still doesn’t have their language down but he’s managed to learn enough to be able to hold simple conversations, especially when both emperors understand basic even if they cannot speak it themselves. It’s made him feel a lot less lonely being able to communicate with his egg partners.

“Vveeda. . .I-I think it’s time.” Poe cries as he grabs hold of the emperor’s arm to steady himself. He doesn’t manage anything else when another pain hits him, if this is what human women experience during labour then Poe has an entirely new appreciation for what his mother went through to have him, especially since she done so in the middle of a war.

Vveeda coos gently at Poe in an attempt to comfort him and picks him up easily before carrying over to where Poe’s hover chair is waiting. It still surprises Poe how strong the Flaurions are despite their slim appearance. They’re also fast because as soon as Poe is seated, Vveeda takes off at a sprint, wheeling Poe back into the palace and to the laying room that is attached to Ghaalf’s medical rooms.

The pain is intense and possibly the worst thing Poe has ever felt physically. Kylo Ren ripping through his mind to find the location of the map to Luke Skywalker still ranks as the number one most painful thing he’s ever experienced in his life.

Once they’re in the laying room, Vveeda helps Poe into the shallow pool that is set up for the children once they hatch from the eggs. Being in the warm water helps soothe some of the pains and with Vveeda’s help they manage to get Poe stripped of all of his clothes.

Sadly the water only eases the contractions slightly, Poe is still practically double over fro the pain. It’s so intense that it brings tears to his eyes and what’s more is that Poe knows this won’t be the worst of it.

He’s scared of how the egg laying will go; even with all the preparation and information he’s been given.

“W-what if I can’t do this? What if they’re too big?” Ghaalf has been monitoring the eggs and he’s assured Poe that he will be able to deliver them but that isn’t registering in Poe’s head at the moment. “I’m scared.”

Vveeda embraces Poe from behind, running his hands over Poe’s belly and whispering soothing thing in Flaurion. Poe still hasn’t gotten a complete grasp of the language yet but he picks up a few words; “safe,” “here,” “succeed.” It’s enough for Poe to piece together what the emperor is trying to convey.

Soon Oolfan is hurrying into the room, Zadan hot on his heels to aid in interpretation though he remains with his back turned to Poe out of respect for his privacy.

Ghaalf turns to Oolfan and Vveeda once both parents are in the room and hands them a large jar of gelatinous looking liquid. The liquid will act as a lubricant, and isn’t water soluble, and ease the pain due to the bacta contained within. It’s part of the ceremony for Oolfan and Vveeda to prepare poe in order to aid him in laying the eggs. His body isn’t naturally equipped to ease the large eggs out of him without risk of tearing badly. In some ways it will be much like preparation for sex, the biggest difference is of course that he’s going to be pushing something out of himself rather than taking something in.

Poe doesn’t feel much beyond the ache in his stomach as the eggs start shifting, preparing to move down through him. He’s sure that Oolfan and Vveeda are being careful not to hurt him as the press their fingers into him, trying to stretch his insides wider than they’ve ever been in order to accommodate the eggs. The bacta in the gel also helps to numb him to the feeling of having both of then fingers, and when he dares to try to glance down, it seems they entire hands, inside of him.

“K-kriff!” A particularly sharp and painful contraction has Poe bearing down and Ghaalf is shooing the two emperors away so that he can pass a scanner over Poe’s body. He says something which Zadan translates as ‘it’s time.’

Oolfan and Vveeda each take one of Poe’s hands and place their free hands on his stomach, pushing down gently to encourage the eggs to move down and pass through his body. While their touch is gentle the action is still agonizing and Poe can’t hold back a shout of pain, his eyes squeezing tightly shut as he tries to ensure it.

He can feel every agonizing inch as the first egg moves through him until its settled low enough that Ghaalf orders him to ‘push now!’

Even with the bacta gel and being prepared for this Poe still feels stretched impossibly wide; he can feel his muscles fighting against the egg inside of him but not quite able to push it out because of the egg’s size.

The emperor’s are repeating comforting and supportive phrases over and over in Flaurion and Poe tries to draw strength from them as he pushes as hard as he can and finally there’s one flash of absolute agony and he can feel something give away and slide out of him into the water.

Ghaalf is quick to move the first egg out of the way, setting it inside a small net within the laying pool so that it does not get disturbed by any of Poe’s movements.

Poe gets a glance at the egg and has a brief moment of shock, wondering how something that big had come out of him, before the next egg is already making its way down through him and he has to go through it all over again.

He passes out after the first five eggs have been laid, his body unable to take anymore of the strain and the pain.

The touch of a hand stroking tenderly through his hair slowly bring him back to consciousness. Opening tired eyes, Poe looks up into the concerned gaze of Vveeda. He’s saying something that Poe can’t understand, his mind too fuzzy to translate the words.

“Emperor Vveeda wishes that your pain was not so great, the eggs are larger than usual and there are more. He and emperor Oolfan both wish to express their sorrow at the pain they have put you through.” Zadan translates from somewhere behind Poe. “There are still three remaining to be laid. If you feel that you can no longer proceed, the royal physician has the tools to remove them surgically.”

Somehow that feels like admitting defeat, and Poe knows that if it comes to a C-section his recovery time will be longer, even with bacta speeding up his healing. “N-no.” he croaks weakly, his voice hoarse from vocalizing his pain. “I-I can do this.”

“Poe, it would not be advisable, it is safer for your health to remove the remaining three eggs via C-section.” It seems that Zadan is as worried as Oolfan and Vveeda.

“I can do this.” Poe repeats, more to himself than Zadan. He can feel the other three eggs sitting in his stomach still; Oolfan and Vveeda must have stopped pushing as soon as Poe passed out. “I’m okay.” Poe assures them, giving their hands a squeeze. “We can do this together.”

The emperors hesitate before slowly pressing on Poe’s stomach, urging the first of the three remaining eggs to begin its journey downward. This time Poe’s ready for the pain but it seems the gel effectiveness of the gel has worn off somewhat, the burning as he pushes the egg through his already stretched hole is intense enough to cause tears to well up in his eyes and slide down his cheeks.

Two more to go.

Poe tries to focus on the feeling of Oolfan and Vveeda’s hands holding his own, he listens to the sounds of their voices, anything that isn’t the next egg pushing down and the out of him.

It’s getting harder to focus, his head is starting to swim again from the pain and he can feel sweat soaking the back of his neck. He’s also aware that there’s blood in the water meaning that he’s likely torn something but he just wants to get this over with, to prove to himself (and maybe Kylo Ren) that he can do this, he isn’t weak or afraid.

The last egg proves to be the most difficult and Poe’s vision goes black as he bears down, pushing hard until he feels himself opening up impossibly wide and the pain before the egg drops out of him and Poe falls back against the side of the pool.

He hopes that everything went alright but it’s hard to focus again. He’s briefly aware of someone scooping hi up in their arms and hurrying him into another room before he’s slowly set down into cool tingly liquid; bacta. A mask is slipped over his face and Poe can tell that the respirator contains some sort of drug. This time when the world fades out it’s much more peaceful.

-

Poe wakes up a day later with Oolfan sitting at his side, both his hands clasping one of Poe’s own. When Poe opens his eyes Oolfan smiles at him and begins to speak to him slowly, enough that Poe can tell that he’s asking if Poe is feeling better.

When he takes stock of his body, Poe realizes that he doesn’t feel any residual pain. There’s a bit of soreness and some muscle weakness, but over all he’s feeling better than he has in days. His stomach feels oddly empty, and Poe presses a hand to the slightly swell of it. Ghaalf had told him that after laying the eggs it would take a few days for his stomach to return to close to it’s original size.

To distract himself from the emptiness, Poe focuses instead on something else. “Did everything go alright. . .w-were the babies born alright?” Poe isn’t sure that he could handle it if he failed Oolfan and Vveeda by somehow harming the babies because of his difficulties with the egg laying.

Oolfan nods and shifts so that he has his arms under Poe’s back and knees, looking at Poe for permission to lift him. At Poe’s nod Oolfan picks him up and carries Poe into a room that is connected to the one Poe finds himself in. Inside the room Vveeda is sitting next to a tank where Poe can see something swimming around.

Vveeda beams as he sees Poe and makes room for him to sit comfortably next to them, helping Poe to peer into the tank where the babies are swimming around.

Baby Flaurions it turns out looked like little jelly fish with small hands and feet, and too large eyes. Vveeda tells Poe that the jelly like substance of their bodies acted like a sustenance sack until the babies’ stomachs properly form and they can digest the fish and seaweed that is the main diet for Flaurions.

When Poe reaches into the tank the babies swim over to him making small chirping sounds that both Oolfan and Vveeda assure him are noises of delight and love. The babies recognize Poe as their incubation parent and are greeting him. Poe feels tears sting his eyes as the babies all crowd around him. Zadan had assured him they would recognize Poe as a parent to them, but it’s still surreal to experience it. Having them just gives Poe one, or eight, more things to keep fighting for.

The location of the tank allows Poe to come and visit the babies whenever he wishes, with or without Oolfan and Vveeda around. He is after all a parent to them as well, Oolfan reminds him fondly, reaching down to allow the babies to swarm around his fingers.

“They’re wonderful.” Poe says, as he gently runs his hands gently over the heads of the babies who have swum up to them. “I’m glad that I could be a part of this.”

Oolfan and Vveeda both press close to him, wrapping an arm around him and holding him close. Like this Poe feels part of a completed circuit of family.

It takes another week for Poe to be healthy enough to leave Flauros. The birthing of the eggs left him weak and Oolfan and Vveeda insisted he stayed to heal up and bond with the babies as much as possible. Poe jokes that they’d have him stay forever at this rate, he smiles fondly when Oolfan and Vveeda only hold him tightly after the comment. They know he can’t stay, there’s still the First Order to fight and Poe belongs to the Resistance and the skies, even if part of him will always be a part of Flauros now.

The night before he leaves there’s a huge party thrown in his honour where he is made an official member of the royal family, not that there had been any doubt about it before. The Flaurions celebrate Poe and the little ones and Poe spends most of the night being congratulated and hugged. Oolfan and Vveeda are the worst culprits of this. In the end he has to beg to be allowed to rest so that he can manage to fly the next day.

When he does go, everyone in the city comes out to meet him. Even the babies are brought out in a portable pool. It’s actually harder than Poe thought it would be to bid the eight little ones goodbye as well as Oolfan and Vveeda. There are more than a few tears shed. Eventually though he has to leave, it’s already been more than a month since he’s been away from the Resistance, the war continues and he needs to be part of it.

With some reluctance he waves goodbye to everyone and jumps into his new ship.

The ship he leaves Flauros in is sleek and compact, they call it a Stingray and it is meant for fast flight and attacks. Poe went over all the specifics of it with the Flaurion engineers and mechanics; the shielding is sound, strong enough to take several blows but it’s meant to keep the ship together long enough to get in get the job done and fly out. Most of the Stingray’s power is focused on the engines to boost the speed, which is where the Stingray’s become a guerrilla star fighter’s best weapon.

Poe has two dozen Stingray’s being produced for the Resistance, that’s not including the dozen more that are already being prepped for transport. He would have overseen the preparations but he trusts Oolfan and Vveeda to make sure everything goes well. Besides he wants to get back to base and show Snap, Jess and the rest of his pilots their new toys. The sooner he gets them trained on the Stinray the sooner they can start using them against the First Order.

The next time he sees Ben’s ugly mask Poe is going to make sure to rub his new fighters in the traitors face. "Yeah, so I did end up doing that whole Flaurion egg-carrier thing. Easily less creepy and gross than you, Ben, not even a contest. I'm a member of the imperial family now. My baby-daddies gave me star fighters as a push-present..."

-

To the nonny from chapter one, I loved your comment so much that I included it in the fic. I hope you don't mind! Thank you again everyone for reading and I should hopefully have this up on AO3 eventually, probably after lots of editing and finding someone to beta it. I'll post the link here when I'm done.

Love it. LOVE IT! Thanks so much for writing and posting this!

Horrified, he clicked through the images attached to the message. While it was impossible to tell from the images alone what had caused the carnage, none of the corpses showed any sign of external damage, and Hux couldn’t look away. One image showed a Stormtrooper lying face-up in a puddle of his own congealed blood, the source of which seemed to be his nose and mouth. Another, a glassy-eyed petty officer slumped over her console, which had gotten the brunt of the blood flow from her mouth. Two IT technicians, who seemed to have been trying to comfort each other in their last moments, their death spasms locking them into each other, unable to tell where the blood from one ended and the blood from the other began. A medical officer, collapsed on his side, the surgical mask he’d been wearing dyed completely red. A lieutenant who’d died in the bath still sitting nude in the tub, the water turned red with blood that poured from her mouth.

The image album went on and on, getting more graphic and disturbing as the images wore on. It appeared that whatever had caused this had happened very suddenly- so many pictures showed people who’d been going about their mundane daily lives when they’d met their end unexpectedly, and through such a bizarre mechanism. Death wasn’t exactly unheard of in the line of duty for First Order members, but death from disease, or whatever this was, was fairly unusual. Certainly on a massive scale like this.
Clicking back to the original text of the message, Hux skimmed through, looking for anything that might have made more sense, or at least provided an explanation, but he came up empty.

“…no external trauma was visible on any of the bodies…”

”…no known survivors at this time…”

”…medical officers from both the Exonerator and the Rectifier conducted autopsies on a random sample of victims from across rank, age, and gender. Autopsies did not reveal anything that would serve as a definitive cause of death, although all cases did show extensive damage to the internal organs, especially the lungs and linings of the nasal cavities…”

”…no known pathogens or chemical agents match the damage seen in these bodies…”

”…incident is being recorded as a climate control system malfunction; other ships are advised to monitor their climate control systems closely and evacuate if errors arise.”

Hux stared as he read that last line. A climate control system malfunction? What kind of idiots did they take him for? Climate control was one of the most stable technologies that existed- that had existed for hundreds, probably thousands of years. It just was simply impossible to be a space-faring society without useful climate systems. The idea that one would fail so catastrophically and kill everyone onboard a Star Destroyer, of all things was simply absurd. Clearly something else was going on there.

His first thought was that it must have been an insidious plot by the Resistance. He knew that the organization’s precursor, the Rebellion, did not think twice about murdering children or ordering airstrikes on refugee camps- his Uncle Nico had been in his first year at the Imperial Academy and they’d killed him, hadn’t they? And hadn’t his mother been injured in a New Republic bombing run? But then logic reasserted itself. Despite what had happened before he was born, he logically knew that the Resistance most likely was not likely to resort to biological weapons- there was too much room for error (and the possibility of infecting yourself). And they also did not seem to approve of indiscriminate attacks like that, instead preferring to use precise strikes to remove whatever they deemed to be a threat at that time.

Granted, it was possible that the Resistance had deemed the crew of the Annihilator to be a threat that merited quick removal, but somehow Hux still doubted it was something they had done. It just didn’t seem their style.

But that left even more troubling questions about who or what had caused the deaths. And maybe it was simply the fact he’d met Ben, who claimed to have been tortured through a purposely-induced, protracted illness that had the same symptoms, but somehow Hux couldn’t stop his suspicions from turning bit by bit towards the Supreme Leader.

Still, that made even less sense than an attack by the Resistance. Why would the Supreme Leader attack his own people?

Commandant Brendol Hux sighed as he put down his datapad. Like all officers of the First Order, he’d gotten the message containing the images and official explanation of the death of the crew of the Annihilator. Unlike other officers of the First Order, however, he knew the truth behind the strange deaths.

Truly, it was regrettable. But it had been necessary. Just more in a long line of regrettable but necessary deaths. His cadets, countless Stormtroopers, Moa… everything had been for the good of the Empire or the First Order.

It was regrettable, the case of the Annihilator. Lieutenant General Matthias had been a truly promising young man- perhaps if he hadn’t gone poking his nose into where it didn’t belong he would have gone on to beat the Commandant’s own son as the youngest full general in the Order. Unfortunately, the young man hadn’t had the sense to know when to leave something well enough alone, and his entire crew had paid the price for it. At least it had been a successful test of the Supreme Leader’s plan. Now that they knew it was feasible, they might not even have to bother with completing Starkiller Base.

Of course, if it wasn’t necessary to complete the base, his son’s role would be entirely superfluous, and the First Order didn’t get to where it was by keeping superfluous personnel around… or even alive.

It was regrettable, truly, it was. But sacrifices were necessary for the good of the Order, and Brendol had been rather unhappy with his son as of late. If Tarkin was really worthy of his status, the boy would have finished the weapon more quickly and such drastic measures would not have been necessary. Like Moa, Tarkin had always been a little too cautious when it came to what was necessary. Oh, both Moa and her son had talked a good talk, but when it came down to it, both were hesitant to actually make a final decision, or to make the proper moves. It had cost Moa her life, but Brendol had hoped that Tarkin wouldn’t fall into the same trap. Reaching general rank at his age had been a good sign, but the Starkiller was now behind schedule, and now that the Supreme Leader had perfected his technique of releasing biological contaminants directly into the bloodstream of individuals via the Force, without needing a physical locus, the Starkiller was obsolete.

It was regrettable, but it was how victory was achieved.

I really enjoyed reading this, so glad you wrote it! I like the balance of sweetness and caring with elements of body horror and pain, just like real world pregnancy is, haha.

Can't wait until Poe and Finn finally met each other!
I wonder why Mother Goth(el) Ben locked poor Poe in the tower though..

The problem with being away on an extended reconnaissance mission, and then having his data tablet blown up with his X-Wing, poor X-Wing... and then being taken as a prisoner of war, escaped with a rogue storm trooper, and then finally get back to a proper Resistance base meant that Poe's anonymous message server was pretty much full to exploding.

Poe sighed and then pulled out a pair of wrenches to go to work on his new X-Wing to bring it up to his preferred specs.

"BB-8, could you see if any of these are actually urgent?" He asked the little droid.

"[How do I get Duros cum stains out of dress whites?]" BB-8 answered in flawless binary that should have made Poe wonder why he knew binary for cum stains, but he wasn't going to question his life choices now.

Poe sighed. "No way I know," he answered. "And believe me, I've tried. Best just man, or woman, up, trash the offending area, and throw yourself on the mercy of the quartermaster."

BB-8 happily chirped back his own dictation of the answer, and at Poe's nod relegated the answer to the small website he had exactly for making sure that the many pieces of sexual wisdom that Poe had gathered over his lifetime would be preserved for posterity.

Thankfully there seemed to be no more that required quick attention, although Poe remembered a time when he had to field a 'how do I get this furball out of my ass after wookiesex' a month or so ago.

The rest of the questions were... fairly innocuous.

"[What are the best ways to engage in oviposition and cum-inflation fetish safely? I am human and willing to go xeno for sake of kink.]" BB-8 asked.

Poe actually had to think about that one for a moment, as it wasn't something he'd experimented with in quite some time, and the answer varied depending on biological sex, which his questioner hadn't actually bothered to provide. He sighed, turning to the engine block of the X-Wing and then he started to rattle off the various options for oviposition that didn't involve actually having to get an egg out of there that largely came down to the orgasmic reflex in the partner, and then went off on a wistful recollection of a very wonderful lady with very articulate tentacles capable of simulating ovi.

He then went through several sexual and non-sexual secretions capable of creating a controlled inflammatory response in the belly region, and ways to pretest for toxicity before engaging in actual play.

Poe thought about it for a few moments and then added a few secondary words on pregnancy kink and tentacles before having BB read him the response back and nod for it to get posted.

"[How would you recommend preparing ones self for a wookie gangbang? Female Togruta.]"

Man... Poe hadn't had a good wookie gangband in ages. He was a little jealous. That was mostly a relink to some old exercises with a few notes on Togruta anatomy that would make it different.

"[Beard burn. Ohgodtheoral'ssoworthit. Human female.]

Poe snickered, mostly because he couldn't help but enjoy when someone was obviously enjoying themselves. Pre-and post sex assistance for those given, he moved on.

"[I keep having this recurring fantasy with the General dressed up in that Slave Girl costume - you know the one - and pissing on me... with that chain around my sack and dick. Weird? Acceptable? I'm a bit of a wuss about pain so I'm not sure I want to try it out. Male MonCal.]"

Poe considered, CBT and the General... really a great idea actually. Probably would have preferred her in one of those deliciously trim old Imperial uniforms though.

"CBT is not for the faint of heart," Poe answered, before going on to explain the specifics of Mon Calamari gonads and how they would respond to various strictures and the like, and then went on to describe a method for some tying up to try during masturbation to experiment with the sensation before considering going all in on the fantasy.

BB-8 also was helpful enough to render a diagram of Poe's instructions.

Poe nodded.

"[I know this isn't really your usual question but... how do you deal with approaching someone far more sexually experienced? Is monogamy off the table? How do you keep it interesting when you're a virgin and he's... really, really not? I feel a connection, but what if that's just him being a flirt?]"

Poe couldn't help but feel himself smile, a bit sadly. He could barely remember when he worried about being a gawky virgin, and the gawky part fell away fairly soon after his virginity when he dove in to truly experience the many joys and wonders of how to get laid. For his own part, he was hardly old, but he did sometimes think about how much fun it would be not to go seeking out a different partner to scratch a different itch, and just have one person to really... connect to.

He still liked sex, loved sex, but sometimes the questions he got reminded him of a younger version of himself, one that had mostly been sated. Still, the question deserved an answer, not his own introspection.

"Part of being in touch with your own sexuality is accepting everyone else has their own preferences as well. If I'm going to be a slut, I'd need to accept that some people are virgins, and want to stay that way until they find the perfect person, voluntary abstinence is a personal choice, as well. If he's really worth your time, it won't matter, and don't let him turn your inexperience into a kink if you're not into that." That sounded good in his head...

"As to monogamy, that's going to depend on the person, and has nothing to do with how many sexual partners someone has had. It's something you'll need to discuss. If you know his sexual history includes polyamorous situations, ask yourself if that's something you're alright with, discuss your boundaries before you jump into bed. There's something to be said for the idea that 'everything old is new again', and even if he's not going to fetishize your inexperience, there is something fairly intimate to exploring old ground with someone new who you share a deep connection with.

"And flirts flirt," Poe finished. "He might mean something by it, he might not, the only way you're going to really tell is if you put himself out there, or wait for him to. Asking lets you put the initial power in your own hands, and have the conversation on your terms. Good luck."

Poe ran through a few more questions, the usual object insertion, the dispelling of sexual myths, the soothing of nerves about whether or not a kink was acceptable... and then he finally decided that enough was enough, he'd get to the rest of the questions later. He'd largely finished his changes to the X-Wing.

"I think you deserve a nice little oil dip," Poe said, as BB-8 rolled beside him.

"[You get off on that?]" The droid blatted up at him, and Poe couldn't help but laugh.

"No, little buddy, not my thing." He glanced over to where Finn had entered into the hanger area, maybe looking for Poe, maybe not. Poe waved anyway, and Finn answered with a little half-wave. "How you feeling?"

Finn shrugged, and then winced. "Still pretty beat up, the spine's all stitched up, things are healing..."

Poe couldn't help but feel a sad twist in his gut at that, and a very intense desire to perform some nonsexual CBT on one little darkside shit, General's son or not. "Glad to hear it, I was worried."

Finn seemed to frown for a moment, look away, and then take a deep breath. "Busy?"

"Just rolling BB off for an oil bath," Poe answered. "He's a little trooper."

"[I got it,]" BB-8 answered, rolling off towards maintenance. "[Touch his butt!]"

Poe snorted, and then looked up to where Finn's eyes were full of questions. "Don't worry about it, he's... a little weird sometimes." Poe tilted his head, inviting Finn to walk with him, only for the man to reach out and touch his wrist, nervous, for a moment.

"Hey... um... wanna... get dinner sometime?" Finn asked, and Poe actually turned to the man and felt a little jolt of shock. "A date."

A... date? Finn was... interested in men, interested in Poe, incredibly adorable and nervous and he was biting his lip now but he wasn't backing down he was waiting, patiently and Poe wasn't exactly certain how he felt about it in that moment but... Finn was... a really great guy. "Sure."

Finn exhaled the breath he'd been holding, and then took another one. "Cool."

Poe reached out and gave the back of Finn's neck a light squeeze, since he knew it was the only place on Finn's back that was still 'safe' after his little rumble with Kylo. "You write that letter?"

Finn cleared his throat, and his dark cheeks took on a slightly pinkish hue. "Yeah."

"Monogamy's fine, but I'm sorry, uniform kink is non-negotiable."

Finn chuckled a little. "Good... I... Good. I heard that you were..."

"Hoe Dameron?"

He nodded. "It was dumb, but I figured... what better way to find out for certain?"

"What better way indeed," Poe answered, and then he threw his arm across Finn's shoulders and brought the man close, definitely enjoying the weight against his side. "And... yeah, I totally meant the flirting."

It earned him another blush, and woke a desire to find out exactly how easy it was to get Finn to blush like that. He'd accept the challenge.

I LOVED THIS PROMPT FROM FOREVER AGO AND I LOVE YOUR FILL EVEN MORE!!! well done!!!

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