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PROMPT POST #5 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts!

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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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I love this fill with the passion of a thousand burning suns. The fairy-tale imagery woven with the real bits of the tale was amazing.

Love this...so dark. fuck daddy Hux and stupid Ren

This is so beautiful and upsetting. I love reworked fairy tales and Star Wars really lends itself to that (I guess because it is essentially a fairy tale in sci-fi costume). Excellent job!

hoooooooly shit this was beautiful. are you going to put this on ao3?

This is gorgeous. Love the narration.

This is brilliant. XD

The end here is perfection. Well done, you!

So ready for another chapter (or 5) of this. <3

AWESOME, thank you! *smashes those kudos*

This was amazing, god, that "they'll think bad thoughts about me" is so all-consuming, but so vague, ugh. I started purging as self-harm to deal with it, it was killer. I used lavender cream for my baby, who co-slept with me for ages, and now I put lavender oil in my hair before bed most nights. I was it off in the morning, but aside from making my hair pretty, it surrounds me with lavender and the scent soaks into my pillow and it's so so calming.

(A!A)

Sadly, Poe is being a bit headstrong right now. He's got the wrong impression: Finn was probably holding Rey's hand during their Leia-and-Han moment!

Have to travel (work, not fun, alas) so I'll try and update on Sunday. If not, next Wednsday. I promise I know where this is going!

I want a fic about this picture???

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CWrR_COUAAAYOE7.jpg

It can be an AU about Ben/kylo and his parents or something.....I need this...this pic is framed on my desk.

No new prompts are allowed during the prompt freeze.

Ah thank you for reading.

AO3, with minor editing:
http://archiveofourown.org/works/6550348

FN-2187 opened his eyes, then shut them again against the harsh glare of the lights. His head was pounding, a sick throb that pulsed with the beat of his heart.

“Get up,” Captain Phasma told him. Her voice made his head hurt worse, but he did as asked, ignoring the way that standing made his stomach lurch. Don’t you get sick, don’t you dare, he thought desperately. Sickness was weakness, and weakness would not be tolerated. He didn’t need Captain Phasma to remind him, not that she would. He’d seen what happened to those who were weak, who failed to perform to the best of their ability. The First Order was not in the habit of giving second chances for them to prove themselves. You were either one or the other, and there were no such things as warnings. Forcing himself to stand rigidly upright and stare straight ahead, FN-2187 felt more than saw Captain Phasma peer at his face. He tried to keep himself as impassive as possible, suddenly very aware that he was without his helmet. In fact, he was clothed only in the black clothes that they all wore under their armor. FN-2187 swallowed hard. Why was he without his armor? What had he done?

A face flashed in his mind. Brown hair and eyes, a cocky smile. It was gone almost before he’d registered he’d seen it, and he could only stand there stupidly and blink his confusion.

“Do you remember why you are here?” Captain Captain Phasma asked him, and FN-2187 shook his head. She stepped closer. He could feel her gaze like fingers on his face, probing, trying to find a way inside. He clenched his jaw against the urge to shudder and stood up straighter. After a long pause she pulled back. “Put on your uniform and report to your station immediately.”

FN-2187 glanced around. His uniform lay next to the chair that he had been in when he woke. He put it on as quickly as he could, using all of his self-control to keep his fingers from shaking. Reconditioned. He’d been reconditioned, and he would never know why. Never know if he was making the same mistake again until it was too late.

Don’t be stupid, he told himself, pulling on his helmet at last. He allowed his face to relax, knowing that Captain Phasma couldn’t see the fear written all over it. Not that she was unaware of just how sacred he was. He knew that she was well aware of it, but she mustn’t be allowed to see it. No weakness. Just remember: if you haven’t been told to do it, then it shouldn't be done. Simple, it was simple.

“You can do whatever you want now,” a phantom voice said softly in his ear, and FN-2187 twitched before he could stop himself.

“Is there a problem, FN-2187?” Captain Captain Phasma asked, voice deceptively mild.

“No, Captain,” he said, and go out of there fast. He ignored his aching head and roiling stomach. All he wanted was to get out of there. He didn’t like that small room, didn’t like that chair. Didn’t like knowing that he’d done something wrong enough that he’d had to be reconditioned. He was supposed to be the best; he had been before…whatever it was he’d done. I will be again, he promised himself. Failure is not an option.

He got turned around, somehow, and wound up at the wrong end of the base. He frowned at the wall in front of him where he was sure a door was supposed to be, then turned around in a slow circle, trying to picture it in his mind.

“Never been much for walls myself,” the voice from before told him, and he knew that he had to be wrong but it really felt like someone had given his shoulder a reassuring squeeze; felt like a hand rested there companionably still, after the reassurance had been given, as though it didn't want to leave. FN-2187 hesitantly reached for his own shoulder, afraid that he would find another hand there…but it wasn’t all fear, was it? There was something else, some other feeling sparking along his nerves, something like-

“And what do you think you are doing?” a voice demanded from down the hall. FN-2187 started, his hand falling away from his shoulder. A dark haired soldier was striding towards him, face drawn in a scowl. FN-2187 didn’t know how to respond. Admitting that he’d gotten lost would mean that he was weak, that the reconditioning had not worked. There would be no second chances.

The officer came closer, his shoes clapping briskly against the floor. “I repeat, Trooper, what-oh.” He stopped abruptly and simply looked at FN-2187 for a moment. “I might have known. FN-2187, back from reconditioning. Well, best be off to sanitation, then. It’s that way,” he pointed helpfully over his shoulder, lips drawn into a sneer, but FN-2187 wasn’t seeing him, had barely heard a word past his designation. His head felt like it was being cleaved in two, and he remembered, he remembered -

“F what?-

“Well I ain’t using it -

“FN, huh? I’m gonna call you Finn-

“Poe. Poe Dameron –

“Good to meet you too, Finn.”

“Poe,” he whispered, clutching at his head. His stomach heaved and he scrabbled at his helmet, barely getting it off before he vomited all over the clean floor. He fell to his knees, retching, barely noticing the officer sprinting in the other direction, hand on his comm unit. “Poe Dameron,” he whispered again, then, “Finn. My name is Finn and I don’t belong here oh my go-“

Lost in memory, he didn’t hear the footsteps, didn’t understand that he had to get up, had to move, until it was too late. He heard more than felt the blow to his head, and for a while he neither saw nor heard anything.

Added illustration, also at ao3.

It's three days of Finn, lying terrifyingly quiet under Poe's, doctors, droids, and passersby before Leia sees the gold writing on the middle of his back.

it had been three days for bacta packs to kick in, to heal him enough that his Mark appeared. it was often remarked that it was a miracle, no scar, nor injury or even tattoo could permenantly cover someone's soul mark. Leia looks at the short scrawling letters and curses the Force as savagely as she can.

Ben Solo Organa, written in old Alderaan script, a variant of Galactic Basic she doubts many could read in this day and age. Alderaan, like the boy's whose name was scarred into Finn's flesh, was a sad memory, lost to the hunger of the Dark.

She turns it over in her head, laying awake, staring at the blank ceiling of her quarters.

She doesn't know what to think about the man her son became anymore.

Planetkiller, like her father. Murderer of thousands. Murderer of one person that burnt so brightly, her ridiculous, vain, awkward smuggler. Her Han.

Her soulmate, her Markbearer, his name written in Wookie symbols, now a pale faded gold, smudged along her right hip bone.

And still her son. Still her child, grown into a man that she can't picture. She hasn't seen her son's face since he was barely 15.

"What a family we are," she whispers bitterly to herself.

And now she's presented with Finn. A shining beacon of light, of the courage and power in the face of the Dark Side.

So scared of the First Order, knowing, as she herself does, the level of evil contained in the remnants and successors of the Empire.

But he stood against them despite it, stood against her son in the snow and the dark. Her son, whose name curls along Finn's spine, her son, who sliced through Finn's back.

"You and me both, kiddo," she says quietly, and turns off the lights. When Finn wakes up, she'll tell him.

And, if, if he will allow it, she wants to offer him something more then just a place in the Resistance, which he secured the moment he took Poe's hand to flee.

She's a mother whose son will not return, and he's a son stolen from the arms of his mother.

In another world, another life, her Ben would have brought Finn home one day to meet her and Han.

Finn would have looked at her with his earnest, open face, and she would have told her son, surely a scoundrel like his father, that if he broke this young man's heart he was in trouble.

But that is not this world. And that version of her son is not her own. Even so, maybe she can offer Finn a place in their family. In every universe, he deserves it.

Oh my god that illustration is so great and so sad! I love your fills!

OP here, Oh my god someone is filling this. Thank you so much. This is a perfect start and all I wanted! I can't wait to see where this leads.

Kylo Ren wakes up, stiff from the bacta tank, newly healed scars tender and pulling, and freezes as he looks in the mirror, about to apply the salve the medics gave him.

There, where nothing has ever been before, stamped across his heart, were four letters, shimmering in gold.

He knew the font, it was Hux's favourite for official reports.

And he knew the name, whispered through troops, spreading like a ripple in a pond.

FINN

He's destroyed half his bedroom before he comes back to himself, the air crackling with the aftermath of his saber strikes.

Kylo thinks about Rey, a burning bright blue searing light in her hand and in her soul. Righteous and free, and she had power, overwhelmingly so. He had wondered if Rey, so new to herself and her power, was how he had appeared all those years ago, setting down on Yavin 4's verdant earth.

And then, Finn. The erstwhile FN-2187, a person who should have been nothing but an instrument of the First Order's will. Of his will.

But Finn looked at him, afraid but so sure. Sure in himself, and Kylo had hated him for daring. A stormtrooper, a cut and paste soldier, had become so strong and solid in such a short time.

Kylo Ren is the master of the Knights of Ren, the treasured student of the Supreme Master, vanguard of the First Order. He's descended from the great Darth Vader.

and he feels so little surety. Ten years older then Finn, light years above him in training and power, bigger then him in size, and it meant nothing.

Finn had chosen Rey. Finn had chosen the Resistance...his parents. Finn, raised from birth to fear and obey anyone like him, held the lightsaber forged with Skywalker blood and fought with conviction. Against him.

And now this traitorous name, seared across his breast. He touches the letters, tracing them. they feel like scar tissue. A freshly healed wound.

and as he runs his fingers along the letters, it gives him the ghost sensation of another person's skin. Warmer then his own, softer.

When he looks up again at the mirror there is a small smile on his face

He punches the mirror until he can't see that foolish boy's face anymore

I'm really not too picky about this one except that I'd prefer no anorexia. Maybe he compulsively eats after missions, then feels guilty because food is a limited resource and he's had more than he deserves? Or he feels guilty about giving in to himself because he knows this is Bad. (purging is okay as long as there are no graphic descriptions of anything) I just really want to see him trying to hold it together and keep it a secret and Rey and Finn finding out and comforting/helping him after they realize.

It got better!

Oh nooo, Finn :( This really excellent so far, anon!

My heart is squirming in my chest for poor Finn, but I know he'll figure it out because he is sunshine incarnate and Poe IS LOOKING FOR HIM. I have to believe that. Can't wait for more!

*beam* Thank you! I'm normally useless at plot, but real life kindly gave me the inspiration here. I just had to up the sinister factor, because, well, First Order.

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PROMPT POST #5 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts!

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Re: FILL: Put a Name to it, Kylo Ren/Finn, part 1/?

Re: FILL: Put a Name to it, Kylo Ren/Finn, part 2/?

Poe/Rey/Finn or gen, Poe has an eating disorder, h/c

Re: FILL: Put a Name to it, Kylo Ren/Finn, part 2/?

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Re: [Mini-Fill] "Daily Activity Report" (Re: Gen, sanitation detail in the First Order)