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PROMPT POST #4

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prompt post one
prompt post two
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+ 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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Everything that has happened here is a miracle and I thank every one of you.

hoo hoo HA HA ho ho it's time for this au

“Hey,” said Senator Leia Organa’s horrible son, leaning against Hux’s desk. “Staff ass.”

Hux hit the hold button on six calls and gave the senator’s horrible son a narrow-eyed look over the flower arrangement. “Staff assistant,” he said. “Do you have an appointment?”

The horrible son was opening his mouth to respond when Senator Organa’s communications director Phasma skidded out of her office and started rifling through the front desk inbox.

“Hey,” she said to Hux. “Staff ass. Do you have tour lists for today?”

Hux tried to gather the tatters of his dignity. Then he discovered that he had put his angry constituent on speaker instead of hold.

“What am I listening to, an orgy?” the phone blared. “I said I needed Senator Organa to do my taxes.”

“One moment,” said Hux, and unplugged the phone.

“Here it is,” said Phasma. “You have a tour for three people from the Washington Free Beacon at two o’clock.”

“Is there a conflict?”

Phasma stared at him.

Hux’s Monday from hell escalated into a Tuesday, a Wednesday, and a Thursday from hell, and on Friday he ran into Senator Organa’s son at American Ice Company.

“Hey!” said the horrible son. He was about seven feet taller than anyone else in the bar. “Staff ass!”

Four different people looked up from their drinks.

“I’m Kylo Ren,” said the horrible son, and shook Hux’s hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself on Monday, but it seemed like you were about to get fired.”

“What?” shouted Hux.

“I’m Kylo Ren,” Kylo Ren shouted back. “I’m in a band.”

“I can’t hear you,” said Hux.

“It’s cool,” said Kylo Ren. “I can tell you about my band later. Do you want a pickleback or nah?”

“Nah,” said Hux.

Kylo Ren handed him two tiny mason jars of whiskey and pickle juice.

“So what do you do?” asked Hux an hour later. They were outside, and had miraculously developed the ability to hear each other speak.

“I’m in a band,” said Ren. “I play bass.”

“Are you any good?”

“I’m the best,” said Ren.

He wasn’t actually very good at all, once he had his bass out and was playing Acid Dad songs in Senator Leia Organa’s Friendship Heights rowhouse.

Ren had a room on the top floor, with a triangular window and slanted ceilings. Hux noticed that he was wearing a blue-and-black baja hoodie and the whole room had a steamed-in pot smell that must have come with the house. There were photographs of his grandfather everywhere.

“Wow,” said Hux, and blew Senator Leia Organa’s horrible son while they listened to a Spotify “Trapaholics” playlist.

Photographs of Secretary of State Anakin Skywalker watched them from the walls.

Hux snuck out on Saturday morning and waited twenty minutes for the red line, hunched around a bottle of Powerade. His phone was dead, there was track work in both directions, and he had almost had a heart attack tip-toeing down what sounded like one thousand of the world’s loudest stairs in his boss’s home.

He saw Kylo Ren the following Wednesday, at free breakfast sponsored by the American Egg Board. All of Senator Organa’s interns were there, siphoning eggs into any reasonable receptacle and exchanging their thoughts on the internship program and bars that didn't card.

“Hey,” said Hux, tapping one of the interns on the shoulder. “We need three of you guys to stand in line for a hearing.”

“Make him do it,” said Finn, gesturing at the towering form of an unfamiliar intern in a suit composed of non-matching black fabric.

Kylo Ren turned around. “Hey,” he said. “So I’m also, technically, one of my mom’s interns.”

Hux tried to think about icebergs. “Can you stand in line for a hearing?”

“My band’s playing at Wonderland on Thursday,” said Ren. “If you promise to go, then I’ll do the hearing.”

“What is your band called?”

“Anakin Skywalker,” said Ren. “After my grandfather.”

Finn the intern was grinning.

“Fine,” Hux snapped, and handed them each a schedule. “Just go to the hearing.”

One of the first rules of DC, Hux’s Craigslist roommates had explained to him upon his moving in, was that as a junior staffer to a senior senator, one was free to blow and be blown by almost the entire District, including tourists.

There were only three categories of people whose dicks were strictly off-limits: Interns, the children of elected officials, and justices of the United States Supreme Court.

“And I’d say band members,” Rey had said. “But that’s kind of a personal preference thing.”

Phasma asked to see him after the hearing. Hux trudged into her office and braced himself to be gruesomely fired.

“You have to tell the interns not to sleep if they’re in the room,” she said. “There were like four awake people there.”

“Sorry,” he said. “They were kind of taken off guard.”

Phasma sighed. “Kylo has been an intern here for three years,” she said, and then lowered her voice. “We keep him on correspondence.”

Hux crossed his arms, and didn’t say that Ren was probably still an intern so he could honeypot earnest young political staffers out of their jobs, and also for free eggs.

On Thursday he watched Anakin Skywalker the band shout songs about Secretary of State Anakin Skywalker the person, then went back to the Woodley Park rowhouse to get high and fool around on top of Ren’s incongruously nautical-striped duvet.

Ren called him an Uber at five in the morning and set the playlist to “Emo Fever.” Hux was preposterously moved, and, determining that he was circling the drain of attachment, deleted Ren’s number on Saturday and adopted a cat that Sunday.

There was a line to adopt cats.

“I hate DC,” Hux heard someone mutter.

--

THE END

OK. Thanks for the explain!

This was fun. I am never, ever moving to DC.

Kylo is redeemed and living with the Resistance. He and Poe are navigating a relationship (they had mutual crushes way back before Kylo left for training) and Poe confesses that he has fantasies about being captured by enemy combatants and raped. Whether the fantasies are a coping mechanism for what happened in TFA or whether he’s always had them is up to anon.

Kylo is uncomfortable both because of his guilt and because there’s always the risk he’ll fall back to the dark, but he wants to give Poe what Poe wants. They do a scene, and to their mutual delight Kylo does a very convincing job of being evil again while also making Poe feel loved and protected.

+ Background OT4 (Rey/Kylo/Poe/Finn)
++ Kylo actually finding this a helpful release for the darker, dominant parts of himself
+++ Lots and lots of care on Kylo’s part, constantly making sure Poe is still ok, etc.

I am the most vanilla. I just want Kylo and Rey in love and banging for the first time post redemption arc. Preferably fairly vanilla but scorching hot sex.

i need this like i need to breathe OK

+11

What it says on the tin, basically - contrary to poplar belief, they are ultimately vanilla, or at least Hux is.

He wakes to a pounding headache and the dual cacophony of blaster fire and very familiar muttered cursing. Behind it, a low, drawn-out sound, like something heavy’s being dragged over rough terrain. Oh wait, he thinks, as his ear catches against the grit: that’s him.

He turns his head, opens his eyes. The sight of Shara Bey’s breasts and belly straining against her green flight suit is as welcome as ever, though slightly out of context here.

“Babe?” he ventures, and is immediately met with a relieved sigh.

“Oh, thank fuck you’re awake,” she says, and gently lets him drop to the ground behind a not-that-stable-looking stony outcropping which is nonetheless the best cover he can see from his admittedly not stellar vantage point of on the ground, in the middle of a mild sandstorm.

“Because you’re so glad to see me, or because you’re tired of draggin’ me?"

Shara gives him an unconcerned shrug and a quick grin. “Oh, bit from column A, bit from column B, you know.” She’s breathless (from having to drag his fat ass, probably), her curls are coming free, and her eyes are shining brighter than the stars he can’t even see right now. He wants to kiss her more than he wants anything in the universe, up to and including everlasting intergalactic peace and serenity. “Can you walk?"

“Yes,” he says, automatically; she gives him the classic Kes Dameron, You Are A Fool look, but follows it with the (But You’re My Fool) smile, so it’s not so bad. “Maybe,” he corrects.

“Okay, we’re about five—“

The bright beam of cannon fire arcs over their head, and Shara ducks over him, covering his chest with her body; her stomach rests on his hip, and he reaches over to press his hand against her side. Not sure what he’s searching for, but feels it, a swift, steady jolting kick.

“They’re fine,” Shara says into his ear, softly, or as softly as can be done over the sound of approaching war machines. “Kicking away, as usual."

“Oh yeah?” he says, grimacing as sharp bursts of pain begin radiating from his left leg. He hopes it’s rising awareness of a previously existing injury and not something new, not something that’ll make him even more useless to Shara right now. “Our little limmie player’s ready to take the field, huh?"

“They better not be, our little limmie player’s got three weeks before they’re ready to take to field,” she says, rising to peak over their make-shift shelter. She must not like what she sees. “Gonna need to borrow your blaster, babe."

“What’s mine’s yours, Shara Bey,” he says, handing it over. “Gotta be careful, it pulls a little to left."

“Wouldn’t be yours if it didn’t pull a little to the left, Kes,” she says, and winks down at him.

“Not in front of the kid, Lieutenant!" He says, mock-scandalized; she snorts and takes aim.

He leaves her to it, forcing himself into a basically seated position against the outcropping, listening to her fire shot after shot as the ground shakes with the approach.

"Damn it," she hisses, ducking back behind the outcropping. "Can't breach the shield at this distance. What else've you got?"

He's already taken a mental inventory and the answer is, not much: he'd used his grenades back at the start of this clusterfuck and the rocket launcher's back on the ship. This'd been strictly a recon mission, more to get Shara, who'd been going nuts on Hoth, off base than anything. They weren't actually supposed to find anything on this piece of shit planet in the ass-end of space.

"Kes?"

"Yeah," he says, giving himself a quick patdown and wincing as his hand grazes a thus-unnoticed wound to his side. Over the radiating fire coming from right above his left knee, it's not much to worry about. "Got a knife in my boot, if you wanna try to stab them to death—"

"Let's make that Plan C."

"Then I got nothing, 'xcept a spare blaster cartridge—“

She turns to him; their eyes meet, that quick, flashing current of understanding crackling between them. He hands the cartridge over to her.

“You ever build one of those before?"

“I understand the theory,” she says, which means she hasn't, but he’s not about to call her out on it. Not like he has, either, and she's always been better with tech.

Still: “Don't forget to strip the—"

“Less passenger-bay piloting, sweetheart," she says, tightly, and he shuts up. “Need something to bind this thing together, you got any—"

“Turn around,” he says, and she does, keeps fiddling with the exposed wires on the charger. He plucks out the band keeping her hair up, and hands it to her. “Perfect,” she says, over her shoulder, and gets to tying the newly unstable cartridge to the blaster. Kes, meanwhile, does his best to pull her hair back, weaving it into the simplest Alderiaan braid he knows; he used to help some of the kids at the orphanage with their hair in the mornings, and manages to shepherd Shara’s curls into a dark, tidy line down the back of neck almost on muscle memory alone.

He and Shara finish at about the same time. He expects her to rise, lob the make-shift explosive at the rapidly approaching Imperial Walker immediately, but she turns to him instead, grabs him by the collar, and kisses him.

“For luck,” she says, and leaps up, winding her arm back to get as much distance on the throw as possible. She stays standing, apparently watching their last chance of survival arc through the air, until Kes, who's seen the blast radius of one of those things, tugs her down.

Not a second too soon, because there's a dull metallic clang, somewhat muffled by the distance and the sand-choked air, followed almost instantly by a short, echoing boom, and then the air above them bursts into flames.

And then, silence.

The air around them has cleared, leaving the sight of a slowly setting sun. Shara's breaths are sharp but steady against his neck, for a moment, before she eases her way off. Clutching her side, and panic, perhaps slightly overdue, rises in Kes like bile in the back of his throat.

"You okay, Shara Bey?" he manages, voice catching on her name; Shara's peering over their shelter, and doesn't even seem to notice.

"Must've pulled something, I—"

The low, agonized groan of creaking durasteel cuts through the air, and she stumbles back.

He lunges without thought for his useless leg, and finds it crumpling beneath him. Manages to grab at the crumbling stone lip of their shelter, and through the throbbing agony, gets a decent enough view of the scorched Walker slowly tipping forward like some sort of wounded animal, before crashing ignominiously to the earth all at once.

He looks over at Shara; Shara looks over at him.

“Fuck,” they say, in unison, and then Shara grins, and he breaks into hoarse, almost hysterical laughter.

I just really want some meta, or a short something with gratipus descriptions of the main cast's clothing as it would be in a modern AU. What influences them, what accessories they prefer, how they do their hair/make-up, what they think of the other's fashion chooses, etc.

Yes thank you to: focus on Ben and his art/design student escapades, and if you do pairings, his partner being grudgingly impressed by his style.

If you need any sort of inspiration: http://hicstreme0.tumblr.com/image/138118526493

Would you accept a Polyvore board?

Okay, in order for me: Adam, Tom, Leo. >:D He can be an honorary member of the Inception RPF smorgasbord of beautiful people. ~~If Joe or Cillian shows up, I might die of perv bliss.~~ ~~Damn it self, get Cillian/Domhnall outta your head.~~
(I have nothing against Oscar, but I've seen that pairing more than Domhnall/Adam. Granted, I haven't seen much RPF in this fandom whatsoever. I also have nothing against het, but the idea of that lithe Irishman being manhandled does things to me. I'm only half sorry.)

Also? I'll come clean: I wrote the threesome RPF misfire fill and the "ginger filling" TFA or RPF prompt. The latter is similar to this in fact, haha, I just realized. XD So Adam/Domhnall/Oscar and Tom/Domhnall/Leo are also on the table. (I mean, why choose, am I right? ...Fine, I'm mostly sorry now.)

I will never be able to unread this. It will haunt my dreams.

*standing ovation*

Hux is worried. He does not like to be made to worry. Today is the second day in a row that he has been informed by the stormtroopers guarding Poe that Poe is not eating. That is not something that Hux will stand for. Hux tells Poe that if he will not eat on his own that he will be taken to the med bay to be tube fed. Poe barely fights as he is dragged to the medical ward. Poe barely struggles when a medical droid deftly slips a tube through his nose and down to his stomach. Hux strokes Poe's hair while the droid proceeds to feed him. Poe barely reacts to his touch. The urge to slap Poe back to his old, fiesty self wells up in Hux even though he knows it would not do any good. The feeding is nearly over when he hears a familiar, heavy set of footsteps. Hux had been informed that Kylo Ren occasionally raids the med bay for supplies but the timing seems too coincidental. Hux quickly tries to suppress the anger and worry that Poe's listlessness and apparent hunger strike are causing him, not wanting the force-user to pick up on them. He thinks he feels a subtle probing of his mind - the Supreme Leader's training had evidently paid off if that indeed had been Kylo Ren probing at his mind and not just Hux's imagination. His attention is brought back to Poe and the droid as the droid removes the tube and tells Hux that he can take Poe back to his quarters. Poe looks like he might vomit if he moves too much, but he looks more aware and willing to cooperate. Hux helps him to his feet, and slowly guides him towards the corridor. The hair on the back of Hux's neck stand up and he realizes that Kylo Ren is watching them silently. Hux does not want to add dealing with Ren to his already lousy evening, so he turns his attention back to Poe. He can feel Ren's eyes on them until they pass out of the door and the door closes behind them. Ren's stare leaves Hux with an unsettled feeling, a feeling that Ren knows something that Hux should. It makes Hux even more worried than before. Hux wants to break something. Hux wants to soothe his plaything and make him better again so that he can see the fire in his eyes again. The slow walk to Hux's quarters takes a toll on both of them. Poe does not fight when Hux pulls him tight against his side and strokes his hair and much thinner cheek to lull him to sleep. Hux listens to Poe's breath even out in sleep. Hux stays awake for hours, absently petting Poe, worrying about everything and nothing, but mostly about how the fire is nearly if not completely gone from Poe's eyes.

Finn casually mentions one day that storm troopers were equipped with catheters when they were sent out on long missions. Poe, who has always had a secret sounding fetish, has never been more turned on in his life.

Hi, you're a really cool author and I've noticed that you've filled quite a few stories recently! Do you think you could put some line breaks in your fills? It's really hard to read a whole block of text this big.

First Order foods are mostly ration food, dehydrated, max nutrition, zero taste and horrible texture, the stuff upon which the majority of the staff on the Finalizer are raised on.

Finalizer first planetary conquest. Food bars ran low, supplement with local food, spice-filled local food.

Cue diarrhea and upset stomach all around. Some of the officers swear they saw General Hux cry due to the spices, and those weren't tears of joy.

+Kylo Ren: Finally real food!
+ Everyone got used to real food eventually.
+ Captured Stormtroopers @ Resistance: Wow thanks for the great food, but we are still not talking.
Poe etc.: Eh it is just bread and tato soup...

Oh shit, this was great! Probably not so great for you, anon, if this was in any way autobiographical, but great for me, the greedy consumer of AUs. Staff Ass, Acid Dad, the spotify playlists, the suit of non-matching black fabric, Anakin Skywalker the band shouting songs about Secretary of State Anakin Skywalker the person -- just fucking great.

*toasts anon with a pickleback*

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

According to Wookieepedia, Ben Solo was born 0-1 years after the Battle of Endor. Know what that could mean?

Ben Solo (the future Kylo Ren) was conceived under the meteor showering remains of the second Death Star, in the same wooded area as his grandfather's smouldering pyre.

At an Ewok party.

Guess which of those three things he tries to completely forget about and suppress all rumour of.

Guess who on the Finalizer just did the math vs military history, and now has endless teasing material.

I’m not sure this is quite what you wanted OP, and I feel like it ends before it really goes anywhere, but here it is anyway.

The chamber was cold and poorly lit, the floor and walls made of black stone that absorbed the meagre light rather than reflected it. He shivered, more from fear than cold, he had been ordered to obey though and he always obeyed his master.

‘Take your clothes off.’ The command echoed through the room. He couldn’t see his master yet, his senses dulled since he was forbidden from using the Force here. He dropped his head in defeat, undoing his clothing with shaking hands that fumbled at fastenings until he could sense his master’s impatience. The clothes finally dropped to the floor and he followed them down to kneel on the icy stone.

‘Good.’ He could hear the approval in his master’s voice. Feet stopped in front of him and a hand gripped his jaw tightly but he kept his eyes downcast. ‘Open your mouth.’

He complied of course, it didn’t matter that he didn’t actually want this. A half-hard cock rubbed against his cheek and he licked at it tentatively. There was no sound from his master and he closed his lips around the head, lapping at it with his tongue. The hand on his jaw tightened, another winding into his hair. He gagged when his master’s cock hit the back of his throat, he tried to get away but he was choking, held in place so he couldn’t move. His master fucked his mouth brutally and he closed his eyes, tears running down his cheeks, hating the feel as flesh slid across his tongue and down his throat.

Then it stopped, his master shoving him roughly to the floor, flipping him onto his stomach and pulling his hips up. He had agreed to this, he tried to convince himself, but it sounded like a lie to him now. A slick finger circled his entrance and he tensed as it slid inside him. His master pressed on something and his body jerked, pleasure making him gasp. Another finger worked inside him to stroke that spot over and over and he couldn’t stifle his moans. He rocked back against his master’s fingers as much as he could until he was held in place by the Force again and the fingers were removed. Large hands gripped his hips hard as something much larger rubbed against his ass, and then there was searing pain. He screamed, his eyes wide and unseeing as he fought the Force hold, desperate to get away from the cock tearing into him. Struggling only made it hurt worse and he pressed his face into the cool stone floor, tears pooling in the cracks as his master fucked into him, too far and too hard, and he could feel the blood running down his thighs. He sobbed, begged, was willing to do anything to stop the pain but nothing made a difference and he finally stopped making any noise, passively letting his body be used.

Hux screamed, thrashing violently to get away, to make the man fucking him stop, he just wanted it to stop. Tears ran down his face, he couldn’t get his arms free and he screamed again, desperately. The sound shocked him back to wakefulness and Hux opened his eyes to the darkness of his own bedroom, his sweat-soaked sheets tangled around him. He fought against the memories, he was alone, he was safe. His gasping breaths were loud in the quiet and he tried to calm himself down enough to get the sheets unwrapped. Hux finally succeeded, throwing them across the bed in mild panic and sat on the edge, head down, panting, gripping his hair hard to keep his hands from shaking.

It was just a dream, he told himself firmly, he wasn’t in that cargo hold, he was safe in his room. The image of black stone and the impression of someone he called master flickered across his mind and he frowned. Whenever he had nightmares about being raped they were always memories of what had actually happened to him, but this one felt different in some indefinable way. Hux didn’t really want to remember the dream but he tried to recall some details, focussing on sights and sounds rather than physical sensations. It helped him compose himself to filter through some of what he had seen, his analytical mind taking over and noting what didn’t line up with his own assault. A black stone chamber, not a ship’s cargo hold, one man instead of four, the master title confused him but he didn’t want to dwell on it too long.

Hux braced an elbow on one knee, staring at his other hand as it dropped into his lap. The hands in the dream had been bigger, the skin obviously a different shade even in the half-light, and he thought there had been strands of dark hair falling across his face. Except it wasn’t his face, it wasn’t his memory at all. The conclusion surprised him but it was the only one that made any sense, there were too many things in the dream that didn’t fit his own nightmares and the idea that he had subconsciously made up another rape scenario to dream about was far too disturbing to consider. Which only brought up an even more puzzling question, why the hell had he been having someone else’s nightmare?

‘Fuck.’ He sighed, as if he hadn’t had enough trouble sleeping before tonight. The answer niggled at him but when Hux attempted to grab at it it eluded him, slipping back into memories of being held down and he gave up in frustration. The mystery would have to wait, he didn’t want to risk too many of his own memories surfacing while he was still vulnerable enough to be hurt by them. Hux glanced at the chrono and decided it was a reasonable time to start working, that would give him something else to concentrate on.

Hux glared at the stars outside as if they had personally offended him. He wasn’t actually seeing them at all, his mind still worrying at the issue of the nightmare he had experienced. Ren was to blame, he was becoming increasingly sure of that. The Force could do many things and Hux wouldn’t be surprised if Ren was transmitting distressing visions to him just to upset him. How Ren had known what situation to use to cause him the most pain was something he needed to figure out fast, this attempt had been inaccurate and clumsy but the next nightmare might be closer to reality. Hux narrowed his eyes as he thought. He would confront Ren about it, be as sneering and dismissive as he always was when dealing with the irritation that was Ren and above all he was absolutely not going to give that bastard the satisfaction of knowing his tricks had hit a nerve.

‘Where’s Ren?’ He snapped at the closest junior officer, startling the man with his sudden liveliness.

The man flipped through his datapad. ‘No reports of anything destroyed today, sir. So Lord Ren must still be in his rooms.’

Hux grimaced, Ren was probably spending his time thinking up new ways to torture him. He spun around and headed straight for Ren’s rooms, determined to end this before it really had a chance to get started.

Hux crossed his arms and scowled at Ren. ‘This game you’re playing stops now.’

Ren’s head tilted to one side, expression confused. ‘What?’

‘You know what.’ Hux waited impatiently for a response, when he didn’t receive one he prompted Ren. ‘Last night? That disgusting dream you sent me?’

‘What are you talking about?’ Ren sounded wary now.

Hux frowned. ‘You know exactly what I’m talking about.’

Ren seemed almost skittish and he shook his head in denial. ‘You shouldn’t have seen that.’ He backed into his rooms.

Hux followed him, getting even more annoyed. ‘Then you shouldn’t have sent it to me.’

‘I didn’t!’ Ren snarled, fists clenching at his sides. ‘I don’t know why you saw it.’

Hux studied Ren carefully, he wasn’t reacting at all like Hux had expected. The dark hair falling across his eyes gave Hux a sudden dizzying sense of recognition. ‘That wasn’t just any nightmare, it was a memory. Yours.’ Hux felt incredibly stupid for not realising that earlier. ‘Snoke-’

‘I consented.’ Ren muttered, dropping his gaze.

‘Not to that.’ Ren seemed about to protest and Hux overrode him angrily. ‘Don’t. I saw, felt, what he did to you. I know what it’s like-’ Shit. He clipped the rest off, turned away from Ren.

‘Hux?’ Ren’s voice was cautious.

Hux couldn’t look at him. ‘I…’ He stopped, unable to continue, as if actually saying the words would make it more real. He glanced back at Ren, met his eyes. ‘I can’t talk about it… you can read my mind.’

Ren’s eyes widened in surprise at the invitation but he nodded. It worried Hux how easily the memories came, this whole situation had rattled him more than he wanted to admit. He felt Ren’s presence in his head, watching and Hux showed him the corridor where they’d first attacked him. There were four of them, a gang of bullies that had beaten Hux up before and he thought this was just more of the same. Then they had dragged him into a nearby cargo hold and started tearing at his clothes. He fought back wildly and his assailants had been as bloody as he was by the time one of them slammed his head into the floor so hard his vision went black for a moment. By the time Hux could see again he was naked, his wrists tied together with his own belt.

The leader was crouched over him, reaching out to run a hand through the hair between his legs. ‘So that pretty colour is natural.’

Hux struggled weakly against the unwanted touch, too dazed and injured to put up much resistance.

One of the others sniggered. ‘I’ve never fucked a ginger before.’

He gave Hux a nasty grin as they grabbed him, forcing him face down over the top of a cargo crate. Blood dripped into his eyes from a cut, blurring his sight, and he closed them, there was nothing he needed to see anyway. Hux could hear them undoing their trousers and then hands were pulling his legs apart, a hard cock nudging at his entrance. He sank his teeth into his lip, determined not to scream.

‘Hux!’

He opened his eyes in startled panic at the sound of his name, trying to get his bearings as the room swam around him, past giving way to present. He was on his knees, Ren crouched a short distance away, gazing at him in worry.

‘I don’t need to see the rest. I understand.’

Hux nodded, his mouth dry with fear even though he could still taste his own blood.

‘You’re bleeding.’ Ren reached out a hand then thought better of it and didn’t touch him.

Hux licked at his lip, he’d bitten it just as he had in his memory. He had screamed eventually, when he couldn’t take the pain anymore, his resolve worth nothing against the brutality of his rapists. Ren stared at him and Hux stared back, hoping Ren wasn’t in his head anymore.

‘What do we do now?’ Ren asked him blankly.

Hux laughed humourlessly. ‘I don’t know.’ They had something in common, even if it was something terrible, but it changed the way he thought of Ren and Hux could tell the reverse was true as well. He was pale and wide-eyed and Hux doubted that he looked much better himself.

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Ren said abruptly. ‘They wanted to hurt someone and if you’d fought back any harder you’d probably be dead.’

Hux knew that was true, he had almost died anyway from the combined blood loss and concussion. That didn’t make it any easier to believe that he hadn’t deserved it, that there hadn’t been anything he could do to stop them.

‘You didn’t deserve it, Hux.’ Ren’s voice was far too soft and kind for his haunted expression.

‘Neither did you.’ Hux retorted sharply and Ren flinched as if he’d been struck. ‘What he did to you wasn’t your fault, Ren. He’s more powerful than you, there was nothing you could have done to stop him.’

Ren snorted in disbelief and they sat in silence, a sort of mutual understanding growing between them that Hux was cautiously optimistic about.

‘I need to go. I’m still technically on duty.’ Hux broke the quiet, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the bridge. Ren nodded as they both stood, awkwardly staring at each other as Hux backed up towards the door a few steps.

‘Wait.’ Ren vanished into his refresher then reappeared with a wet cloth. ‘Can’t let the troops see their general in less than perfect condition.’

Ren’s tone wasn’t malicious and Hux gave him a hard look before he realised Ren was teasing him, half-smiling at Hux’s glare. He pressed the cloth to Hux’s lip, wiping the blood away carefully. Hux watched him concentrate, aware of how close together they were. Ren’s thumb ran over his split lip and Hux shivered.

‘It’s swelling up.’ He glanced up at Hux and their eyes locked. Hux saw his own fear and worry reflected in Ren, the difficulty in trying to trust someone else when they had both been hurt so badly.

Ren finally moved away and Hux spun around and headed for the door.

‘Hux?’

Ren’s voice stopped him. ‘What?’

‘If I have another nightmare can I come talk to you?’ Ren sounded hesitant.

‘Yes.’ Hux didn’t even have to think about it before responding. He reached to open the door.

‘Hux?’

‘What?’ He snapped back, only slightly annoyed.

‘You can talk to me too. If you want.’

Hux didn’t bother to reply as he left, they both already knew that he would be back at Ren’s door the next time he needed someone to listen to him.

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PROMPT POST #4

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Re: Kylux, Mpreg, Paternity Battle

Fill: Horrible DC AU [1/?]

Fill: Horrible DC AU [2/?]

Fill: Horrible DC AU [3/?]

Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]

Re: Kylux, Mpreg, Paternity Battle

Re: Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]

Kylo/Poe, redeemed!Kylo, Poe has capture/rape fantasies and Kylo is uncomfortable with it

Kylo/Rey - post redemption arc - two people in love doing it for the first time

Re: Hux/Kylo, Hux/Ben, arranged marriage (reposted due to anon making original prompt too wordy)

Kylux, they are secretly fluffy

FILL: bad-ass pregnant Shara: "bleed and fight for you (make it right for you)"

GEN or Ben (Kylo)/Any; modern setting, fashion choices

Re: GEN or Ben (Kylo)/Any; modern setting, fashion choices

(OP) Re: [RPF] Domhnall/any, awards season

Re: Shortish fill: Jar Jar Binks/Kylo Ren Ren (previous JarJar/Anakin) tw: jar jar

Re: Shortish fill: Jar Jar Binks/Kylo Ren Ren (previous JarJar/Anakin) tw: jar jar

Mini-Fill: Poe / Hux, owned TW: hunger strike, implied suicide attempt, abuse

Finn/Poe catheter/sounding

Re: Mini-Fill: Poe / Hux, owned TW: hunger strike, implied suicide attempt, abuse

Finalizer All Staff - New Foods

Re: Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]

Re: FILL: bad-ass pregnant Shara: "bleed and fight for you (make it right for you)"

Kylo/Hux or Gen: The conception of Ben Solo.

Fill: [Gen, tw noncon/dubcon] Kylo, Hux - Bonding via mutual trauma