This post is closed to new prompts!

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

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I started writing something for this and it's weird as hell but hopefully it'll turn out to be something at some point. ...also it's Kylux because of course it is. And now I want Kylux versions of, like, every Ray Bradbury story. Especially the one where the old lady exhumes her late fiance who's been dead for 70 years and is somehow perfectly preserved and beautiful. (Hux is the old lady in this scenario)

Hux had never seen very much of Ren's skin. His hands and face, sure, on occasion. His ears, the back of his neck, a brief flash of throat, a bit of wrist when he removed his gloves and pushed his sleeves back. He never thought about it, never wondered what exactly was concealed under those layers and layers of drapey dark garments. Why should it be a secret, or any kind of mystery? Hux had been pretty well certain that there was nothing under Ren's clothes but skin. Pasty, ordinary, freckled here and there. One strange night, Hux realized he was wrong.

There was a solar system on Ren's back, a blue sun orbited by a congregation of worshipful planets, each one inhabited, somehow teeming with souls. There were rings, concentric spiral frills of nebulae, fields of asteroids, comets trailing bright fire. Only pictures, of course, layers of ink inserted under the surface of Ren's skin, but each one lived, and Hux didn't know how. They moved, of course, when Ren moved, expanded and contracted with his breath, but there was something beyond that, some intelligence they possessed, some subtlety that Hux couldn't name or deny. Ren's body seethed with them, these stars, these suns that seemed to rise and set, to cast long shadows in the morning and evening. Ren was a galaxy unto himself, scarcely an inch of him left bare, walking around stark naked yet clothed in a thousand lightyears of uncharted space, a billion different histories and civilizations.

Hux fell into bed with him, but he wasn't brave enough to ask what they were and who had put them there. He doubted there was any answer that could satisfy him, any answer he could understand. Hux slept with Ren casually, occasionally, enjoyed it perfectly well in spite of those odd decorations.

Then the order came to annihilate the Hosnian system. Hux performed faithfully, but the next time Ren came naked to his bed the ghosts of those planets hung suspended in his skin. Hux couldn't lie next to him that night, finally understood how Ren was connected. The visions on his body were some sort of afterlife, a record of extinction, exterminated lifeforms finding refuge there for a while before being replaced by a new day's dead. Hux became increasingly haunted by the one blank space, an oval of clean white just beneath Ren's neck and between the broad wings of his shoulders. It seemed the right place for a portrait, and it was. When Ren killed his father, the old man's face appeared there, and Ren pretended that he'd never noticed. Hux could never stand behind him after that, couldn't bear the sense of betrayal and disappointment, those wise eyes watching.

It'll be you someday, the old man seemed to be saying. Just wait and see, one day soon you'll be where I am. Hux had nightmares about it, felt Ren's invisible grip on his throat, the blade of Ren's saber sweeping through him, parting skin and flesh like air.

Ren laughed at Hux's premonitions. Ren lay with Hux in his bed, night after night, and evolution ran its course on his skin. Planets were born, ascended, died. Stars flared into supernovae or collapsed into icy spheres of nothingness. Auroras wove among them, ribbons of light twined up and down Ren's limbs.

I could never harm you, Ren told him, in sweet moments when they woke from sleep in Hux's bed, wrapped warmly around each other. There is no force in the universe that could turn me against you. Your fears are irrational, your dreams are only dreams. Still Hux's subconscious would not be comforted, still he'd bolt upright in bed soaked in sweat, fresh from another vision of Ren laying waste to all who'd loved him.

He sought the counsel of Snoke, who alone might be able to tell him why Ren carried such a tapestry of tragedies on his skin. Snoke could tell him only that the pictures had been put there a long time ago, before Ren pledged himself to Snoke's service. They changed with the ebb and flow of the Force through Ren's body, but the Force was not master over them. Hux told Snoke what he had dreamed, and Snoke allowed that it might be so; that if Ren killed him, he would wear Hux's image forever.

Years went by. Orders and empires fell, but Hux remained faithful to Ren, and Ren remained faithful to their arrangement. At the crest of his spine the place where his father's face had been was blank once more.

Years went by, stars burned to dust, planets faltered and fell, ships foundered out of the sky. Ren and Hux were alone. Stranded on a pristine planet, lost amid more beauty than either of them thought they would ever know. They lived sweetly for a while, side by side, like two figures in a parable. Still Hux could not escape his visions of the clean blank spot, the perfect canvas waiting for his portrait, hidden under the cowl of Ren's cloak.

Years went by. Hux grew old and older, stumbled, used a cane to walk. Ren walked with him; strange, silent, upright, gliding like a solitary ghost. One day Hux stumbled and fell and lay where he had fallen, unable to rise. He grasped Ren's hand, still broad and warm and strong after all these years.

I've never told you I loved you. Not once.

And there; Hux saw his own face, young again, emblazoned high on Ren's back. Beneath his neck, at the crest of his spine. Ren would carry him forever.

this is intense and sweet

I was waiting for the explanation, there wasn't one, and that was perfect.

That was BEAUTIFUL and spooky-strange and romantic. I'm sort of breathless, really. It's amazing how creative anons are <3

PROMPT POST #4

This post is closed to new prompts!

Re: The Illustrated Man

Re: The Illustrated Man - FILL (mini fill? Oneshot? Something)

Re: The Illustrated Man - FILL (mini fill? Oneshot? Something)

Re: The Illustrated Man - FILL (mini fill? Oneshot? Something)

Re: The Illustrated Man - FILL (mini fill? Oneshot? Something)