inappropriately timed force bond moments (both nsfw and humor approaches)
dream-sharing
emotional bleed/transference (from rey, involving other parties)
inappropriate force bond voyeurism on rey/poe or rey/finn
mid-conversation force bond interruption
The Rise of Skywalker- Cross-galaxy chase of the Resistance
anything related to ben solo, but especially:
snoke confessionals with family or friends of family
returning to the light
smuggler life style
jedi knight ben
resistance-fighter ben
The Rise of Skywalker- Force Ghost communications w/ Rey
anything related to supreme leader kylo ren, but especially:
fall via coup
resistance fighter reconditioning (gen or nsfw)
force ghost visits from anakin/luke/rey/leia/snoke
defeat by the resistance, and subsequent aftermath
The Rise of Skywalker- Mole Discovery w/ Hux
canto bight:
shady weapons deals
picking up prisoners
recruitment
obligatory dinner party
general casino shenanigans
beach party
basically any reason you can think of to use canto bight as a setting piece
A note on romance: I will ship all of the new trilogy characters with Kylo Ren (except Snoke/Family). But I have no interest in exploring domestic-style takes on them. Thank you for understanding.
[He pauses when she offers up her question. The answer he wanted to give came into his head immediately, but -- the fact that she had asked at all means he needs to examine it. So there is some silence, as he turns it over in his head.
Did he hate her? No. Then what about this still bothered him? There was still something else, or he would be able to engage with this without issue.]
No.
[It comes out, even in the middle of his self-reflection. Because however bitter he might be that he didn't get to do things his way -- he doesn't hate her. That's a stone fact.
Plus, he doesn't miss the fact that she'd chosen to keep him around and alive. Anyone else would not have done that. So, how could he hate someone who seemed to have a vested interest in keeping his company, when so many others had scorned it?]
[The words "Supreme Leader" don't invoke fear, but a deep loathing. It'd been his fault that his father was dead, and his fault that he and his mother were estranged as they were now.]
Why don't you just kill me yourself?
[Some of his compassion drains from his face. That's right -- she served the man who sought to split the galaxy in half for the sake of ruling it. She'd clearly had no choice in the matter, when she was a child -- but why now?]
What is this guy paying you, anyway? Power? A cushy seat under his boot?
[ this thing, their empire, was in its infancy yet. a shaky thing. breakable. if she could not maintain the relationships it had been built on, it would crumble. that much she was certain of. she needed them to anchor her in what she had once been, lest the power corrupt her into everything poe had feared she already was. ]
[ would it help him, to know? would it turn him? no. but there are still tears on his face and they are her tears, not his. she has never ...
god, her hands are shaking. she pulls her glove back on. ]
You saw what I was.
[ she didn't want him to, but he had nonetheless. ]
I was nothing. Nobody. The Supreme Leader has given me something greater than money, greater than power: a purpose, a place in this galaxy. As he will give to you. [ she stretches her fingers into the glove and lowers her hand to her side. ] As much as I would like to see you suffer, it is not Leader Snoke's desire.
Don't mistake me. You will die. Ben Solo will die. And then, whatever is left will kill General Organa.
[He confirms that for her. The last time he was under the yoke of another, it had not turned out well for him. He trusts Rey -- but he had trusted Snoke as well.
He can probably be honest about that much. They are alone in the room after all.]
The last time I had trusted someone with this was Snoke.
[And, while he overall thought he had agreed with the direction he was taking the galaxy in, he had also encouraged him to destroy many things that were once important to him under the guise of necessity.
Their relationship, thankfully, is different. Built on some measure of understanding and respect, rather than...whatever his last role was.]
[God that's ominous. He doesn't quite parse what she means -- its hard to digest that she seems to be implying that he is capable of being changed so easily. His father's skepticism about the dark and the light rings clear in his head.
Its so absurd that he can't help but scoff a little.]
You're crazy is what you are.
[He adjusts himself as much as he can while strapped down so he can try and make his point more clearly.]
You're not trying to tell me that Supreme Leader Snoke cares about you. As a person. That's not having a place in the galaxy, that's being a lapdog. You could walk away from that now, if you wanted to.
[ yes. that's very apparent from the fact that she leans in so close to his face that they're exchanging breath at this point. no. there's a warmth between them that the dark side alone could never create. it stirs now, in the bond. ]
He's gone. You have nothing to fear, anymore.
[ and that's really the crux of it. their fears, luke and snoke alike, had been eliminated from the galaxy. this should be a victory, but for the fact that they are both held back by the people those fears made them into. ]
[ his fervor puzzles her, genuinely. enough that she lets him continue breathing because she wants to see where this goes.
and it's a good question. snoke may not care about her, but neither does any other part of the galaxy. all she would do is lose resources and make enemies — worse, she would finally have to face many of the enemies she had already made for herself, and without the support of the first order at her back this time.
no. he wasn't worth that. what she had here was the best she was ever going to get it. if she couldn't make anyone in the galaxy love her, then at least by and large they would fear her. that would have to do. ]
[He almost forgets what they had even been talking about. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that what the bond was giving him was what he'd wanted all along -- someone who understood his pain, fear and struggle on the most basic level possible. She was tied to him the way that no other person could be.
The thing about fear -- it never really went away. There was always the possibility that something would rise to fill the void that had been left behind. And then there was the fear of failure -- that never went away.]
I know.
[That she isn't Snoke. As far as fear went -- that remained to be seen. But he doesn't want to talk about it anymore, so he closes the last of the breath's distance. That has become easier, the past few months.]
[The way he says it makes it seem like the most obvious point he's ever made in his life. That had been part of the reason he and his mother had never quite seen eye to eye. She was always duty above self.
Ben Solo would most likely never be that person. There was too much of his father in him.]
[ the ability to sense his intent as clearly as she can — not just the usual anticipation that the force provides, but really see it in him before it happens — means she's never surprised when he sweeps into this anymore. it lacks mystery and uncertainty, but it also leaves her feeling ... full. content.
she knows she has him, beyond the shadow of doubt, and that's something better.
her eyes drift shut — they were halfway there already — and she tightens her grip on the front of his tunic, pulling him in by it. if anything were going to chase off the ghosts, it'd be this. she whines into his mouth, her other hand pushing up into his hair. without hesitation she melts against him, finding familiar footing in this embrace.
the road had been ugly, and they'd lost pieces of themselves along the way, parts had come loose, but for this ... she would do all of it again. ]
[ she laughs, but it's not joyous or light. it sounds like something breaking. ]
From what? To do what? What is freedom, alone, worth?
[ not much to her, by the sound of it. ]
We aren't all born with your advantages, Solo. [ she spits the name. ] I was born to be a slave. And I've chosen my master well. My name is known the galaxy wide.
[The bond amplifies everything, making him oversensitive to how she grabs at his tunic and pulls him even further into their shared embrace. His heavier thoughts bury themselves in a forgotten recess in his mind, and he allows himself to get lost in perhaps the most favorable aspect of the Dark side: passion.
His hands move up from her hips to hold higher on her torso, at the mid-point of her ribs while she drags her hands through his hair. It coaxes his lips to part, to invite her in with him. It speaks to the trust she's managed to wrest from him, how close he allows her with such little resistance.
Its a far cry to when they had just begun to discover this thing between them. The thoughts of failure, of the things he'd lost, of any sort of power struggle -- left behind, shed the way he seeks to shed Rey of the current burdens on her conscious.]
[Yeah, that's weird. Again, there's that pity. Of course she doesn't know what its like to be free. To actually be capable of making choices instead of being under someone's command all the time.
How did he end up in this position, appealing to Snoke's apprentice's humanity that clearly does not exist?]
Last I checked, slaves don't get to choose their masters. But you're right -- what do I know? I'm the son of a senator. I should be sitting pretty on a committee somewhere being handfed meiloorun. Or, since you and your buddy Snoke tore all of that down, maybe I should be the head of an army myself. Yeah?
[He gestures upward, for the purpose of accenting his point.]
-- or, maybe I would be, if legacy actually meant anything. That's the beauty of choice -- Kira, right? Your name is Kira.
[Is he asking because he genuinely wasn't sure, or to make her mad? Hard to tell.]
[ her teeth tease his lower lip. she may wear all the decorations of a regent, but she is still the feral animal she has always been, made comfortable in a life that does not really belong to her. when he opens up to her, she devours him, as though she had only been waiting for permission.
it is not an antidote to his pain, only a suppressant, but it will serve.
rey reaches up from his tunic to unclasp his cape, letting it gather on the ground around him with that sturdy thump of heavy material. it says what they aren't. what the silent space between them has implied from the moment he took her hand to guide her to this spot. there is one thing which they can always offer one another.
she starts to lean back onto the wide desk in front of the theed throne, but her own cape catches, pulls her shoulders back. a grunt comes out. she's still not used to it. it goes too. ]
[ impulse takes over before training can stop it. she reaches one hand out and the air constricts around his throat again.
no. he had seen something else there in her mind, hadn't he? something that deserved to be locked away, deep enough that no one would ever find it. that girl ... that child. she had to be gone. and he had seen her. ]
Yes. It is.
[ an important reminder not to engage him in this any more. it is a messy business, breaking down a mind, but she will do it. snoke believes that she can do it and (he doesn't know how strong this man-child is in the force, but—) she must.
she will deliver ben solo to him, she will turn him. if she could do this, she had no reason to fear. she will have delivered the supreme leader everything he wanted. the defector. the very resistance. her station — the only thing she's ever had to protect — will be secure. ]
Don't worry. You'll see soon firsthand.
[ she doesn't take her time this time. she shunts herself into his mind. good. let something break. let it all break and then when he tries to pick up the pieces, she will be the one to show him how. perhaps he will serve her, instead of snoke. and she will be the master. ]
[If he were a different sort, he might have laughed at her attempts to navigate regency. Instead, he is wholly focused on chasing her when she leans back, so much so that he is already looking to help lift her onto the desk even as she releases him to undo her cape. Its a perfect balance — he senses where she moves, and shifts his grip to accomodate, to make both actions once seamless motion. By the end of it, he is kicking both capes away, and reaching to push her skirts back up with her to the surface.
He fills the open space with his body, tugging on the bond for direction rather than trying to lead himself alone. His confidence had increased since he had first given himself to Hathaway. He braces one hand on either side of her, leaning down to find her lips again.
He could not find the difference between a cure and a suppressant. For now, they were the same and he was grateful for it — and trying to understand how he had gone so long without engaing in the bond this way was impossible.]
[Ok, so that might have been a mistake. He chokes, and she drives forward into his mind again. And it hurts, more than it had hurt before. He was running out of energy to fight back -- and he wasn't even sure how to fight back. Everything was pure instinct, but the instinct begins to fail him when he cannot breathe.
His writhing increases. There is a sense that he might be screaming, if he could breathe, and he could almost feel a physical hook finding his doubt in his family. She drags it to the surface, and tears start to cloud his eyes again.
He remembered the day his mother had contacted him, to tell him about Darth Vader. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so betrayed by secrecy, but it wasn't hard to understand why when he had seen how the senate had reacted to the information. She had never sensed that sort of power within him -- the potential might have been there, for him to be a great Force wielder, if he had ever cared to engage with it.
But he hadn't. He'd turned his uncle away, and ran from it. Stars only knew where he was now -- maybe if he hadn't been so selfish, his father would still be alive.
--there it is. That righteous fury again that has him clenching his fists, eyes slowly sliding open into a glare that bores back into Kira.
You won't win. It rings, clear as a bell, across the bridge of their minds. Even if she succeeded in her task and broke his spirit (he could feel something in his chest and in his mind slowly cracking to pieces), they would never convince him to do their dirty work for them.]
[ a thousand tacitly exchanged feelings and thoughts make acting upon their passion a seamless enterprise. even their breath rises and falls together. it happens automatically, slipping into the comfort provided by the bond. it should feel tainted, somehow, knowing that snoke was the one who had bridged the gap, to turn this potential they had into something so all-consuming, but ...
it doesn't.
his influence cannot negate the comfort and belonging that it brought. with her skirts around her thighs, rey circles him in her legs and pulls his hips flush to hers. he's warm and sturdy there between her thighs in a way that feels like home. a scant familiarity in a strange world.
she catches his mouth in a kiss, then turns her chin up and guides him to her throat. this has always been the way of it, for them. instructive — that's a cold word for it. but a willingness to hear and meet the other's needs.
this need comes through clear as day, drowning out the doubts and fears and insecurities that threaten to drown them in distance. she needs him. needs him to show that even if this is all wrong, they are not. that he can be satisfied as long as he just has her, just as she stumbles blindly through this with him as her anchor.
leveraging the hitch of her legs around him, rey bucks her hips up against his, savoring the way the friction both satisfies and exacerbates her slow-building fever. her hands drift down to his belt to continue their work undressing him. it is a brazen confidence that allows her to no longer fear intrusion upon this, or perhaps more importantly, to know that such an intrusion would not stop or humiliate her or demand explanation. not anymore. ]
[She tips her chin and in the same beat he shifts his focus to her neck. There is only a moment of breath between the thought and the action, a seamless transition that isn’t quite comfortable for the angle of his neck. No sound or thought of complaint crosses his mind in spite of that — instead, its the opposite. He keeps in tune with the bond, eagerly looking to measure and feed off her reactions to his obedience. Like this, what he wanted and what she wanted began to mix and mingle in a way that made it almost impossible to differentiate.
Kylo Ren parts his lips when they find flesh, dragging the barest hint of teeth in a promise he doesn’t quite commit to. There is a question hanging in his mind, about how badly she wants him to ravage her. Rather than verbalize it, he moves his mouth further south and starts to close his teeth around corded muscle.
That is when he feels the lock of her legs around his hip bones, and the way she grinds against him unearths a pleasured grunt of satisfaction, mumbled into the muscle of her throat. It prompts him to release the desk instead to support her back so that she would have an easier time peeling his clothes off. He can feel the warmth rising up his neck the more he feels her hands move near his waistband.]
[ ah yes, vader. the sith's greatest failure. and ben, the same to his family. he'd fled. he'd turned away from his mother's cause, from righteous vengeance over his father's death. he too was a disappointment. he—
what is this?
he calls out to her across the connection. co-opts it again, in another way. but this feels ... no, this is something else. creases line her forehead she digs her heels in, spreads her stance, as if his resistance had some physical weight to it.
she grits her teeth and pushes again. the hook of his father. his grief. the pain of losing him. ]
You're not free. [ the suffering springs anew as she summons it to the surface. ] You've never been free of this hate.
[He makes a feral sound and leans forward, pushing into that wall he's somehow managed to erect. He can see and feel how she struggles against him. It feels like he is bleeding somehwere -- his wrists, maybe. Out of his lungs, his heart, he can't tell. All he knows is that his fury is stronger than her's, if he just lets himself feel it.
So he does. They took his father from him -- they wouldn't take his mother too.]
You're right. I won't.
[Yes, her intent is clear to him now. She wants him to crumble in her hands, so she can deliver a prize to the Supreme Leader that isn't competition for her own place at his side.]
This isn't what you want.
[He digs in return, and tries to find what she does want instead. If she was going to keep playing this game with him, then he was going to make use of it. He's too deep into his need to turn it against her that the oily sensation that slides down his spine doesn't register.]
[ she ducks her head to whisper it into his ear as he reaches the tendons of her throat and the protrusion of her collarbone. though she can't see, she can feel — what he feels, too. not just the awareness of her fingers fumbling to unclasp the belt around his tunic and then pull it up, out of the way of his waistband and pants. (she doesn't bother to pull his tunic off here and now — there's a franticness about this that she does not want to lose.) but ... a stirring, too. heat. desire.
that unfulfilled promise lingers between them. maybe he doesn't hate her. maybe he doesn't know what he feels about all of this yet. but he has been holding back. perhaps it's not about want, then, but need, visceral and consuming, to let that out.
his tunic belt clatters to the ground, pushed off the desk by her elbow as she gets the waistband of his pants open. her hands plant on the curve of his waist and slide down inside the loose top of his pants to settle at his hips and squeeze. she ruts against him again. ]
Don't hold back on me.
[ there is, of course, no need for speech between them. that she groans this out is then ostensibly so that he can hear this almost plea on her lips. ]
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