themodawakens (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
themodawakens) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tfa_kink2017-12-31 01:03 pm
themodawakens) wrote in tfa_kink2017-12-31 01:03 pm
Entry tags:
PROMPT POST 8: THE LAST JEDI
past prompt posts
+ All comments except fills should be posted anonymously.
+ All prompts should focus on Sequel Trilogy (TFA/TLJ) 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
Kylo/Rose, fluff
(Anonymous) 2018-01-01 11:13 am (UTC)(link)Kylo goes with Rey after killing Snoke and is reluctantly welcomed to the Resistance. He meets Rose and develops a crush. Both Finn and Rey are flabbergasted but think Rose could help keep Kylo grounded.
+ Socially awkward Kylo staring at Rose and trying to flirt
Re: Kylo/Rose, fluff
(Anonymous) 2018-01-01 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)1/
(Anonymous) 2018-01-02 04:15 am (UTC)(link)///
"I brought you some lunch," says the girl evenly, as the door to his quarters clicks shut behind her.
Kylo glances at the tray as the stranger places it on the table with a click. A plate bearing a bread roll and a bowl of something that's lightly steaming, a piece of fruit, a nondescript white drink pouch full of who knows what. None of it appeals. Food has never been any kind of a pleasure or motivation for him, beyond its obvious necessity, and even less so since he's been here. Eating the Resistance's food. Wearing the Resistance's clothing, sleeping in their blankets, breathing their oxygen. Existing. He knows they resent it, much as they half-heartedly pretend not to. This does not help his appetite any.
He narrows his eyes at the girl, who is standing, arms folded across the front of her unflattering olive drab jumpsuit, staring right back at him. She's short and compact, sturdy-looking, with black hair ruffled ridiculously around an unremarkable round face. She doesn't look at all like a Resistance fighter; she looks like she should be icing flowers onto desserts, or jiggling infants in a hospital to make them stop crying, or something equally mundane and undemanding.
He immediately decides he dislikes her. He doesn't enjoy having his expectations flouted. "I didn't ask you to."
"No. But people said you haven't been coming to the mess hall to eat, and you can't get food anywhere else on base unless you've got some stashed away from a run, which I'm guessing you don't, and they don't...nobody..."
She trails awkwardly off, seeming to think better of what she'd been about to say. Kylo knows. He always knows. And he didn't even have to reach into her unprotected little mind to find it.
"Rey's not here, and the General's busy, and nobody else is eager to make sure Kylo Ren isn't skipping meals," he finishes for her, flatly.
"They're...uncomfortable with the idea of approaching you," the girl corrects him with a tilt of her head.
Kylo snorts and turns away to stare stubbornly at the gray duracrete wall. "You're all just hoping I'll starve to death of my own accord so none of you have to bother trying to deal with me anymore."
"Yes," says the girl, and Kylo whirls back around to glare at her, sharp and hurt. Her brown eyes are blazing angrily; oddly, it serves to bring her face to life, makes it something to draw the eye rather than just ignore. "That's exactly why I brought a balanced meal with dessert to your room, even though I'm a mechanic, not a nursemaid or a babysitter. Because I want you to starve to death."
"That tone is not necessary," Kylo grits out, because she is right and he has no other defense.
"Don't put words in my mouth, then," the girl retorts, swift but calm.
Chastised, Kylo hunches into the collar of his military surplus jacket. Too short at the sleeves and too narrow to fasten. It makes him feel ungainly, like a stupid overgrown boy, even though of the two people in this room, it's not him who might be mistaken for the child.
In appearance, anyway.
When he doesn't reply, the girl finally huffs. "Well, you're welcome. Enjoy the meal. Bring your trash back to the mess for processing, if you're up to leaving your room."
She has her hand on the door panel when Kylo speaks up. "Wait."
The glance over her shoulder is a question.
"Why?" he says simply.
Her hand drops to her side, and her fingers clench, once, twice. She looks down at the floor, irritated bravado suddenly drained out of her. "Because you made the choice to come back with Rey. To come here. That means you're one of us now, and we take care of our own in the Resistance." She meets his eyes again, firmly. "The rest of them are just nervous, but they'll come around. Then you'll see what it's really like around here, and maybe you'll understand."
Dumbstruck, Kylo imagines saying that to Hux, or to Phasma, or to one of the countless underlings who served at his whim and pleasure in the First Order. Or Hux or Phasma saying it to him. He tries to envision a Stormtrooper bringing him food because he cared, because he considered Kylo one of his, and not because officers' meal service was on the duty roster.
It just makes him feel worse. Angrier. More stupid. Because he gave over a decade of his life to a cause which had never had any real place for him in it, to a leader who groomed him and used him and never gave a kriff about him. He let himself be a weapon for the First Order, convincing himself it was truly what he needed, and never considered just how easily they'd disavow him once he realized it wasn't.
Hux is sitting in the seat that would have been his had he stayed, eagerly stepping into the vacuum to snatch the power and glory he'd always craved. There's a bounty on his head in every inhabited system and propaganda slandering him on the wall of every spaceport and dive from here to Tatooine. It was as easy for them to turn on him as it was difficult for him to turn on them. The story of his life, it seems. Still, none of this does anything to endear him to anyone around here. The enemy of their enemy is not yet their friend. Frankly, he can't blame them, even as their reticence flavors his daily life with bitterness.
But this girl, this young woman of the Resistance whose name he doesn't even know, is taking it upon herself to make sure he has what he needs. She is taking care of him. Because she cares, and she wants him to know it.
He'd promised Rey, and promised the General - can't call her Mother, not yet - that if he wanted to stay, he would refrain from using his abilities on others' minds. It's all so close to the surface with this girl, though, like static energy crackling around her, that he can't help but pick up on it. She is no Force-user and her defenses are less than null.
Sister. Paige. Dead.
Kylo sees images of her, a face he's never seen, pretty and bright-faced at the weapons console of a bomber, laughing, crying, waving goodbye. A slip of metal on a chain, the edges worn soft from constant touch, the feeling of it under his - her - thumbs. Grief, as bright and blinding as sun glare off a ship's hull, just barely under control.
And goodness. Simple, powerful, optimistic goodness, as pure and sweet as fresh water. He's been burning so long that being drenched in this girl's uncomplicated mercy is a shock to the system.
Her sister was in the Resistance and is dead. Her name was Paige. He had never seen her face, but indirectly, he is responsible for her death, as he is for so many whose faces he never saw. She must hate him for it. She has to hate him.
She doesn't hate him.
It's been so long since he's met anyone who didn't, deep down, want him dead.
Kylo mentally wrenches himself away from her, overwhelmed by the realization, and she looks at him wide-eyed with her back to the door. He isn't sure she'd felt him reading her, but something odd must show on his face.
"What's your name?" he says, voice coming out rusty and hoarse.
"My name is Rose," says the girl, stepping forward, feet in her clunky work boots as quiet and cautious as a felid's. "Rose Tico."
Rose Tico holds out her hand to him. Kylo takes it.
"What's yours?" she prompts gently.
He feels she deserves honesty.
He doesn't have an answer for her.
2/
(Anonymous) 2018-01-02 10:18 pm (UTC)(link)He nods when he passes someone he's been introduced to, and they nod back. Not smiling, but not scowling either. Neutral. He can deal with neutral, and deal it out in return.
"Wexley."
"Ren."
"Doctor."
"Good afternoon."
"...Dameron."
Poe Dameron. Kylo's been inside his head - deep inside, shoving with his mind and twisting and the thought sickens him now as much as it still, way down somewhere he tries to keep hidden from himself, fills him with an unholy sort of intoxication. Dameron, therefore, is more prickly than most, and he has as much of a mouth on him as he ever did, which never bodes well for Kylo when they cross paths.
"Solo," he says, easy and insouciant, but with a pointed sideways glance that belies it. Poe Dameron knows exactly how to make him sick to his stomach without putting a toe over the line, how to twist the knife like Kylo had twisted him, and every time he takes full advantage.
Solo. Nobody else calls him that. The General is careful to call him by no name at all. Before Rey had left she'd called him Ben, still a name imbued with discomfort but one which he is able to hold oddly at a distance. He'd never met the man he was named after, the Jedi general who'd died years before his birth; Ben means, for Kylo, a vague impression rather than a reality.
Solo, though. Solo hurts.
"Hello," says Kylo, entering the secondary hangar, where there are X-wings and A-wings and even a captured TIE in various states of repair or disrepair. He'd first made sure that no one else was within hearing range before he'd said it. Two olive-drab legs on a high wheeled flatbed dolly stick out from under one of the X-wings.
"Hi, Kylo."
Rose doesn't call him Ben or Solo or even Ren. She calls him Kylo. Sometimes she even smiles when she says it. Today is one of those times; she slides out with inevitable grease stains on her face and a pleasant face just for him.
Kylo tugs his left sleeve down in a futile, nervous effort to cover his wrist, though there's nothing on it that needs covering. "What are you working on?" he tries, then instantly regrets the inanity of it.
"R6," says Rose, gesturing to the white-and-green astromech up in the fighter's socket, who whistles a short blast of acknowledgment, "tells me there's an issue with the stabilizer on this one. What are you up to today?"
"I don't know," Kylo replies awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair. Rose's gaze flicks up toward it, quick as a wink. "The usual. You know. Walking around. I don't have the clearance to do anything much." They won't give him access to anything actually important. In case he turns on them again. It does limit his options.
"Do you know anything about engines?"
"I customized my own TIE fighter. Took it apart and rebuilt it almost from the ground up."
He isn't bragging. He's just telling the truth. But he has to admit he likes the deeply impressed look on Rose's face when he says it.
"Wow. Okay. Grab a hydrospanner and take a look at this, then." She wriggles sideways on her bottom until there's room on the dolly for him, but he still looks doubtfully at it. It's very wide, made to accommodate beings of all sizes. But...lying on it with someone else. Under an X-wing, close together.
"Are - you sure?" he says jerkily. Rose looks blank, then her eyes open up wider and she blushes a little.
"It wouldn't be weird. I don't mean - you don't have to if you don't want to, it's okay. Forget I asked."
He's embarrassed her. Kylo bites the inside of his cheek to punish himself. "No, forget it. I'm the one being weird. I'll get a hydrospanner."
Kylo finds one in the toolbox, sits down on the dolly and lies down next to her. His legs are longer, so he rolls them under, into the dim greasy underbelly of the fighter.
Rose's gloved fingers point out the general area where the stabilizer is, as if he has no idea. "Have you ever worked on one of these before?"
"Yes. When I was a kid. It won't be difficult."
"Good."
"Good." He looks sideways at her, lying on the slab of metal next to him. Under here, in the relative dark and the metal-ozone smell, it's actually a little liberating. Maybe that's why she is the way she is. Rose catches the look and half-smiles. Her bangs are limp and the apples of her cheeks look healthily flushed under the streaks of black oil.
If he touched her skin it would be warm and soft, like nothing's been in his life in years. Probably since he was too young to be allowed near one of these engines.
The idea of softness is what buoys him. "Can I ask you something?" he says.
"Sure," says Rose.
"You don't hate me." It's a statement.
"That isn't really a question."
"No. I suppose not."
Rose purses her chapped lips.
"Hate is unproductive."
Kylo almost laughs. It sounds like something Phasma might have said, only turned on its ear. "You could, though."
"I could," Rose agrees. Her words bounce around the engine's innards and are reflected tinnily back at them. "But what good would that do either of us? Hate doesn't change the past - nothing can. You have to keep looking to the future. That's something my sister always believed."
"Your sister who was killed by the First Order."
Shock shivers tangibly off Rose's psyche, but she stays strong, without a quaver in her voice when she speaks again. "If I hated you, wouldn't it just make you want to leave again and go back to being the person you were? Back to the First Order?"
The person he was? As if he isn't still? It's a complicated question, and no one really deserves to have his answer to that inflicted on them, least of all Rose. "I don't know."
"Okay." Rose takes a moment to loosen a bolt. "So, no," she says after a long minute. "I don't hate you. Because it would only make things hurt more, and that's the last thing anybody needs around here." The bolt drops free between the claws of her wrench and, without thinking, Kylo freezes it in the air, hovering a few centimeters above Rose's nose. She sucks in a surprised breath and he quickly lets it fall, nudging its trajectory so that it clatters onto the dolly instead of her face.
"Sorry."
Her eyes are big. "No, I've seen Rey do it before." She lets out a bit of a laugh, prying off the engine's repair hatch. "It never stops being wizard, though. The things you two can do." There's a slight touch of envy in her voice.
Wizards. That's what they used to call Force users. People who didn't understand. They thought it was magic, were terrified of it. Most of them still are. "There," Kylo says, pointing. "It's a misaligned blade. Must've been knocked out of true by an impact."
"That's what I thought," says Rose. Kylo narrows his eyes at her.
"You didn't need my help."
"I never said I did. But I like having someone to talk to besides droids. Rey is away, Finn is away, and we lost so many people..." She changes tacks hurriedly. "Well, it gets lonely around here these days."
He knows the feeling. FN-2187...Finn...he could happily do without, and he knows the feeling is mutual, but Rey was an ally, a good person. Rey saw something in him, and that's why he's here. And now she's - off somewhere he doesn't want to think about. Her life is becoming like the life he had once, one he's tried to forget. He hopes it doesn't change her, but he knows it will, and then Rose Tico might be the only ally he has left on this base.
Rose chews her lip as she starts heating the metal to bend it back into place. It's getting warm under the X-wing's belly. Kylo watches her, staying still with his feet planted on the ground so the dolly doesn't move under them. No face shield, but if that's how she works, Kylo will have to resist the urge to comment. It might come off as ridiculous, anyway, Kylo Ren telling someone they should really put on a mask.
"Maybe the General would instate you as a mechanic if you asked," suggests Rose as she works.
He huffs through his nose, which isn't an answer.
"You could work for me," she continues, amusement in her voice.
"You're a child. I probably have ten years of mechanical experience on you," Kylo retorts, though the idea doesn't actually offend him, and he doesn't think of her as a child in the slightest, short though she is.
"I'm twenty-four and I have seniority. There. R6, diagnostic?"
The droid whistles out a long string of beeps. Kylo can understand them, because he learned from another astromech a long time ago - one who's on this base, incidentally - and Rose apparently can too. She nods, hair rustling against metal, and replaces the bolt.
"Good," she says. "There's nothing else wrong with this one, besides a few scratches on the paint job. But Pava likes to do her own detailing. Pilots are like that."
Kylo rolls them out, and Rose sits up and loosens her collar, swiping her hair off her face. A presence hovers in the distance, an unwelcome disruption, but it's not like the hangar is private territory or anything. R6 beeps again. "Whew. Hey, Poe."
Damn.
"Hey, Tico. Think you missed a little something, a little engine oil just there," comes Dameron's teasing voice and striding footsteps from somewhere beyond the split wing. Kylo sits up, tensed, and Dameron stiffens as he sees him, steps faltering. Kylo watches the emotions play across the man's face as he glances between the two of them, Kylo and Rose, just centimeters separating them on the flatbed and Kylo towering over her like a looming bodyguard, even seated. Surprise, annoyance, then a closed-off non-expression that doesn't look natural on him at all.
Rose either doesn't notice or elects to ignore the tension. "You stay clean and pretty up in your cockpit, Captain, and leave the real work to us grease monkeys."
Dameron laughs despite himself, and Kylo despises him for how easily he allows himself that moment of levity, how attractive it must be to a person like Rose. "Real work. Wait'll Finn takes you up one day, you'll see how sweaty we get in there."
"Is he ready?" Rose says eagerly. It's as if Kylo isn't there at all, a non-entity in the conversation. He hates it. He thinks of FN-2187, sitting close to Rose in the cockpit of a fighter, holding on to her as she laughs and screams and they do loops and barrel rolls, and he finds he hates that, too.
"Oh, yeah. He's a natural." Dameron makes to leave, then pauses. "Solo."
"Dameron," replies Kylo in a compressed tone. When Dameron goes on his way Rose turns to Kylo with eyes luminous with apology. Her lips part to speak.
"Don't," Kylo says, glowering. "Please."
Rose raises her hands. "I'm gonna get something to eat. Do you want to come?"
"Yes."
He stands first in one fluid motion and then helps her to her feet, a hand on her back to steady her though she doesn't need it. She mumbles a quick word of thanks, tucking her hair behind her ear.
Kylo hopes Poe Dameron is watching.
Re: 2/
(Anonymous) 2018-01-03 12:51 am (UTC)(link)Re: 2/
(Anonymous) 2018-01-07 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)Re: 2/
(Anonymous) 2018-01-09 05:14 am (UTC)(link)This isn't a pairing I would EVER have thought of in a million years but you've made me absolutely love it! Shipping this so hard now, damn.
Re: Kylo/Rose, fluff
(Anonymous) 2018-08-06 05:11 am (UTC)(link)Re: Kylo/Rose, fluff
(Anonymous) 2018-09-09 03:33 am (UTC)(link)FILL - Re: Kylo/Rose, fluff
(Anonymous) 2020-11-27 01:13 am (UTC)(link)Rose had decided and Rey had confirmed, Ben was made of muscle. Rose loved how warm he was, how soft his lips were. His hands were gentle on her even when they were getting hot and heavy.
He loved how she took him at face value, her attitude was refreshing. She was cute and her plump curves did something to him and her willingness to touch him was refreshing.
They were going at it in his tiny cabin. Rose moaned as he slid into her, slowly, an inch at a time, watching her face, she knew he was worried about hurting her. Rose chuckled, “I will let you know if you hurt me.”
He returned her smile and they kissed, and he began thrusting deeply, pressing her into the mattress.
Suddenly he lifted his head, “Oh kriff!” and a second later the door buzzed.
If it had been Rey, Rose would have been not too bothered, but it was not Rey’s voice that flittered through the door. “Ben?”
“Not now Mom!” he reached out and was attempting to hold the door closed. When she heard the general’s voice Rose had scrabbled for the sheets, difficult because Ben was still inside her, pinning her to the bed.
The door was finally flung open and whatever Leia was about to say died on her lips. Finally she managed, “Technician Tico.”
“General Organa.”
“Can this wait?” he panted, “Mother?”
“I’ll be in my office, come find me later.”
He rested his head against Rose, shifting only a little bit, “Where were we, why are you laughing?”
“It’s just the hilarity of the situation. Oh!” she playfully yelped as he gave a slightly hard thrust.