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tfa_kink2016-03-28 08:14 am
themodawakens) wrote in tfa_kink2016-03-28 08:14 am
Entry tags:
PROMPT POST #5 - CLOSED
This post is closed to new prompts!
prompt post one
prompt post two
prompt post three
prompt post four
+ 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
Re: [FILL] The Worst Double Agents in the Galaxy 2/?
(Anonymous) 2016-04-19 08:30 pm (UTC)(link)---
“The weapon was never fully operational.” Hux says, back ramrod straight under the too bright lights of the interrogation room, hands handcuffed behind his chair. He couldn’t find it in himself to even pretend to be scared. For one thing, this interrogation room could be a nursery compared to the ones aboard the Finalizer. For another, his interrogator looks like the centerfold in a dirty, pilot-themed holomagazine.
“So Ben brought you here for nothing? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I wouldn’t say for nothing.”
“Bullshit!” Poe slams his hands on the table and Hux remembers to flinch appropriately. “You’re just the innocent little defector, is that right?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?” Hux flicks an errant strand of hair out of his eyes. Two days in a cell is getting in the way of his grooming habits. “Ben vouches for me.”
Poe narrows his eyes. “Don’t get me started on Ben.” he mutters.
Maybe he’s not as dumb as he looks. Hux tries a different tactic. “Please...Poe, is it?”
The pilot raises an eyebrow and leans back in his chair, arms crossed.
“I know you may see me as another uniform. Or maybe even as the face of the First Order.” Hux looks away, hunched in on himself. “But I’m more than that.”
“Yeah, you’re the freakin’ General.”
“I have a name.”
“You know who didn’t have a name?” Poe stands up and strolls around the table to stand next to Hux. “Finn. Or any of your Stormtroopers.”
“They have names.”
“Assigned numbers don’t count!”
“Fine. But let’s just say Stormtroopers weren’t the only ones stripped of their identities.” Hux raises a defiant chin, eyes shiny, regal even in defeat. “We’re all products of our environment.” He lowers his head, the strand of hair becoming loose again. “Products of our families. Not all of us were so lucky to be born on the right side.”
Poe is torn but his better nature wins out. He worries at his lip and uncrosses his arms, settling on the edge of the table, no longer looming above the General, who looks rather small without his pompous uniform and coat. Technically, he’s a guest of Ben but they can’t be blamed for reacting the way they did. It’s not everyday the highest ranking official of the Order’s flagship vessel waltzes onto the Resistance Base like he was just showing up for an appointment.
Hux flicks his head again and Poe reaches out, tucking the ginger hairs behind an ear.
“Thank you.” Hux scrunches his nose. “It was quite bothersome.” When softly spoken, the lilt of his accent is rather pleasant. Not unlike Rey’s but more prissy. It seems fitting with the rest of the man: his high cheekbones and pale, almost translucent skin, like the makeup of a Naboo senator. His neck looks delicate, exposed by the wide scoop neck collar of the prison shirt.
“Do you think I could get some water?”
It takes Poe a second to realize he’s being asked a question. “Yeah, sure.” He pours a glass of water from the pitcher on the table, only to remember there’s no way Hux is drinking this himself, what with the handcuffs. He clears his throat and holds the glass to Hux’s mouth, whose lips part eagerly around the rim. Poe is careful to not angle the cup too much but some liquid drips out the sides anyway, dribbling down Hux’s chin onto his white shirt and pants. “Shit, sorry, here let me--”
He looks around for napkins or paper, but the room is kept purposefully bare. He resorts to using his sleeve to dab at Hux’s shirt, then his neck, and he stills when nears Hux’s mouth, shiny from the drink.
“So.” His eyes flick up to meet pale, green ones. “How did someone so young become General?”
Hux smiles. “What can I say. I’m rather ambitious.”
This is the position they’re in when Ben bursts through the door, which was definitely locked a second ago, and declares, “Okay, interrogation time or whatever the fuck this is, is over!” He strides over and snaps the chain connecting Hux’s cuffs to his chair but keep the cuffs on, using them to hoist Hux out of his seat.
“We have keys for a reason, use them!” Poe is on his feet, reaching out a hand. “Also, interrogation time is not over.”
“Well I say it is.” Ben growls, hand firm on Hux’s arm as he angles them towards the door.
Poe puts a hand to Hux chest. “I know he’s your friend, Ben but--”
“I brought him here in good faith that he’ll be treated the same as I was but instead he’s been locked up for two days.”
“We had to be sure he’s not just leading his whole armada to the base!”
“You treated that traitor better than this!”
Poe narrows his eyes. “What’d you just call him?”
“Do I get a say in this?” asks Hux as he looks between the two men. They snap to attention as if they weren’t playing ginger tug-o-war up until now. “I choose to finish the interrogation with Poe.”
Ben gapes at him as Poe shakes his fist in victory. “Are you fucking serious?”
Hux shrugs. “He’s just doing his job. Let’s just get this over with so we can move on.”
Ben drops Hux’s arm and storms out, the last thing he hears is Poe asking if those cuffs were on too tight and would he prefer to have them off?
He’s on his way back to the Order within the hour, this time properly stealing a ship. And it’s a good one, fast and sleek and it might just be Poe’s favorite. Fuck that guy, seriously. Wait ‘til Supreme Leader hears about this.
Re: [FILL] The Worst Double Agents in the Galaxy 2/?
(Anonymous) 2016-04-20 01:03 am (UTC)(link)Re: [FILL] The Worst Double Agents in the Galaxy 2/?
(Anonymous) 2016-04-20 02:52 am (UTC)(link)Re: [FILL] The Worst Double Agents in the Galaxy 2/?
(Anonymous) 2016-04-20 04:31 am (UTC)(link)this is an AU where obvs Han is alive, but also where starkiller base was never finished
Never finished because the construction crew were all double agents! But they almost succeeded in building Starkiller because the resistance crew sent to sabotage them were also double agents and fixed their work! Snoke is a double agent who's been playing the long game waaay too fucking long and started believing his fake backstory. TR-8R is the only loyal one in the whole damn galaxy.
Re: [FILL] The Worst Double Agents in the Galaxy 2/?
(Anonymous) 2016-04-20 08:53 am (UTC)(link)Also, lmao at the moment when Kylo called Finn a traitor. How very inconspicuous of him!
Re: [FILL] The Worst Double Agents in the Galaxy 3/4
(Anonymous) 2016-04-21 12:30 am (UTC)(link)---
Ren paces a groove into the floor of his quarters, the soft trill of his communicator signaling that Hux still hasn’t picked up.
The noise stops and an annoyed, prissy voice answers, “What is it, Ren?”
Ren swirls around, his frayed cape fanning out dramatically behind him. He hopes he was within range so Hux had seen that. He stalks up to the tiny blue holo-figure on his desk, picking it up to hold it at eye-level. “Where have you been?”
“Cleaning up your mess, as usual.” Hux is sitting crossed-leg somewhere, probably on his assigned cot in the bunker. At least that had better be his cot. “Don’t worry, I’ve already informed the Supreme Leader of your failure.”
If it hadn’t taken three days for Hux to finally pick up his call, Ren would’ve flung his communicator against the wall. “My failure?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Hux snaps. “If you hadn’t abandoned the mission, twice, then I wouldn’t have to be here doing your job. You think I enjoy being here in a filthy Resistance base? This rag-tag bunch of hooligans actually consider themselves a military force. Fools.” Hux spits and Ren is suddenly filled with longing for the ridiculous speeches Hux made every other Tuesday, his pointy rat face filling every holoscreen on the ship.
“So you’ve gathered intel?”
Hux has the decency to look somewhat sheepish. “Not exactly. They’re still wary of me, so it’s been difficult gaining access to anything of import. Your defection certainly didn’t help.”
“Why didn’t you tell them I went soul searching again?”
“Because they’re not completely stupid. It’s a miracle I convinced them I had no idea you were going to make off with a ship and disappear again. Which I guess is the truth.” Hux brings the communicator closer to him, becoming just a floating head in Ren’s palm. “Why did you leave, Ren?”
Ren looks away, idly fingering a deep scratch he had made into the side of his desk from the tantrum he threw when Hux didn’t pick up his call for the tenth time. “I don’t know. The dark side was calling to me. I couldn’t stand it there.”
“I understand that.”
Ren meets his eyes. He wishes he could see their real color instead of the washed out digital blue of a holo.
“I’ll try to come home soon.” To you went unsaid but it hangs in the air between them. “Try to control yourself in the meantime and don’t destroy my ship.”
Ren angles the projector away from the state of his desk. “I’m not a child.”
Hux snorts. “Goodbye, Ren.”
After the channel flickers off, Ren resists the temptation to clutch the comm to his chest like a maiden in a romance holorecord. Instead, he drops it carelessly on his desk and strides over to his grandfather’s helmet, dropping into the seat in front of the display.
“Tell me what to do, grandfather. Show me the way.”
---
Poe makes his way to Hangar C where the out of commision ships are stored until they can be repaired or scrapped for parts. He weaves in between the hulking metal beasts, stepping over parts and tools strewn across the floor.
He’s at the far corner of the cavernous space where an older model X-Wing sits neglected and abandoned, when he spots the General up on a ladder, elbows deep in the front engine. Hux is wearing one of Poe’s flight suits, the pant legs just long enough to reach the top of his boots but the rest of it is too big, the arms of the suit tied loosely around his slim hips, sliding low.
Poe adamantly does not look at the strip of skin between Hux’s flight suit and his white tank top, which is hiked up from him bending over to look into the engine. He clears his throat.
Hux’s head pops up and bangs against the raised panel he was working under, causing him to lose his footing and topple backwards with a yelp.
“Whoa there!” Suddenly Poe has two armfuls of Hux, who is blushing furiously and scrambling to get back on his feet. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, it’s quite alright. I should’ve heard you coming.” Hux tugs self-consciously at the too short hem of his top. “I think I got too engrossed in my work.”
“Yeah, I can see that. You like fixing ships?”
Hux shrugs. “Engineering is my hobby, per se. I have a knack for it.” He has a smear of grease on his cheek and some in his hair, which looks surprisingly soft when unstyled. “I’ve never seen one of these...intact before.”
Poe nods dumbly for a second. “Uh, yeah well, that’s an older model. It’ll probably be hauled to the junkyard soon enough. I can uh, show you some newer ships. They’re fast.” Poe grins. “Especially mine.”
“I’d like that.” Hux reaches behind him to pat the hull of the X-Wing. “Though it seems a shame. There’s nothing wrong with her, nothing a little maintance can’t fix.”
“Yeah, yeah. A shame.”
“And thanks for the clothes, by the way.” Hux gestures to himself before sticking his hands into the pockets of his too-large pants. “I’ll return them as soon as I get something else. I didn’t really think to pack before coming here.” Hux lifts a shoulder, looking at him through a fringe of ginger hair.
“No, no, keep them.” It looks really, really good on you. Shut up, Poe thinks vehemently to his own brain. “Uh, I have some time now if you want to see what I fly.”
“Sure, my schedule’s pretty opened.”
The word “opened” coupled with Hux’s smirk led to a horrible place in Poe’s mind that he had to physically shake himself out of. Thankfully Hux doesn’t comment as they make their way over to the hangar where Poe’s ship is stored.
When they arrive Hux gives a low whistle and does an appreciative circling of the X-Wing.
Poe rocks back on his heels, admiring the ship himself. “Yup, there are many like it but this one is mine.”
“I can see why you love it.” Hux is on the other side of the ‘fighter and Poe walks around to see him up on a ladder already, peering into the metal guts. “Vast improvement over the T-70.”
Poe can never resist talking shop, or showing off as some may call it, and he hops up the step ramp to plop himself into the pilot’s seat. “You should see the controls on this baby.”
Hux climbs off his ladder and up the step ramp leading to the cockpit, peering at the console panel. “Impressive.” He wants to take a closer look but the awkward angle makes it hard for him to reach the controls. He ends up perched on the edge of the cockpit, hovering over Poe in the low pilot’s seat.
“You want to get in here?” Poe makes to climb out just as Hux is leaning in.
“Oh no, I’m fine, I was just--”
Poe bumps into him halfway and Hux has another moment where it looks like he’s going to fall off the side of a ship, except this time there’s no one to catch him. Grabbing him by the arm, Poe yanks him forward, toppling him into his lap. “Shit! Sorry!”
“It’s okay, just let me--” Hux is grasping at the sides of the cockpit, orienting himself into an upright position at least, which results in him sitting in Poe’s lap, pressed way too close in the tight enclosure.
Poe is sure his face will spontaneously combust into flames any second now, especially since Hux insists on squirming around like that.
“Alright, well.” Hux finally settles, slender arms braced behind him on the console. “At least I really get to see the cockpit up close now.”
Nevermind that Hux is facing him, away from the controls he had wanted to check out. Also, stop thinking about the words ‘cockpit’ and ‘up close’.
“It’s tight in here. Guess it wasn’t really meant for two.”
Don’t think about ‘tight’, don’t think about ‘tight’.
“Poe? Are you alright?”
How does one form words? With the tongue? Don’t think about that either!
“What the actual fuck?”
Poe whips around towards the source of the outrage to see Ben standing outside the ship, except he’s back in his goth outfit complete with cheese grater helmet. “I knew it! Reformed, my ass!” he points an accusing finger at him and looks up at Hux. “Did you know about this?”
Arm crossed, Hux appears bored by the whole situation and has settled in for the long haul in his chosen seat. “I honestly don’t know anything anymore.”
Then comes the telltale hum of a lightsaber powering on. “Hux, you’re coming with me.”
Hux leans over the side of the cockpit, peering down at the dangerous madman below like one would at a zoo, studying the animals in their enclosures with a disinterested air. “And what led you to that conclusion?”
“My grandfather told me so.”
Poe is now also gawking at him. “Darth Vader?”
“Yes. He told me to take back what is mine.”
Hux rolls his eyes. “There’s so much wrong with that I don’t know where to start.”
Without warning, Hux is lifted into the air with a wave of Ren’s hand and yanked like a balloon with an invisible string.
“I can’t fucking even!” Hux yells as Ren catches him against his chest, thrown over his shoulder like a sack of space potatoes.
“Hux!” Poe is scrambling over the side of the ‘fighter, feet on solid ground by the time Ren has stalked out of the hangar.
Ren is stuffing Hux into the second seat of a small transport ship, designed for speed and short distances. Their shuttle must be parked in nearby airspace. Ren is climbing into the pilot’s seat when Poe reaches them.
“Stop! Hux!”
“It’s okay, Poe.” Hux is leaning over the side with a mournful expression. “This was always the only way it could’ve ended.”
“No, no, we’ll mount a rescue mission. I’ll get the team together, best pilots in the Resistance!”
“Oh, Poe. I’ll miss you.”
Ren lets out a guttural noise of frustration before snapping the cockpit shut. Hux waves through the glass enclosure until Poe becomes nothing more than a little orange blob chasing after them.
It’s dead quiet for a minute, just the hum of the engines and Ren’s ragged breathing filtered through his mask. A rush of static, as if he heaved a great a sigh, and then Ren says “Oversold it a bit.”
Hux laughs all the way to the shuttle.
Re: [FILL] The Worst Double Agents in the Galaxy 3/4
(Anonymous) 2016-04-21 03:10 am (UTC)(link)Re: [FILL] The Worst Double Agents in the Galaxy 3/4
(Anonymous) 2016-04-21 04:56 am (UTC)(link)Oh my god though anon, this continues to be a hilarious delight. Kylo hoping the holo caught his dramatic cape swish, missing that rat-faced two-faced ginger bastard. Said ginger bastard playing up the melodramatic romance novel atmosphere that Poe unconsciously generates around him. jfc Poe.
Hux leans over the side of the cockpit, peering down at the dangerous madman below like one would at a zoo, studying the animals in their enclosures with a disinterested air.
Yes, YES, finally someone has put into words exactly how Hux looks at Ren: unimpressed, with the expectation that shit will soon be flung in his direction.
Re: [FILL] The Worst Double Agents in the Galaxy 3/4
(Anonymous) 2016-04-24 03:16 pm (UTC)(link)