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.
[ she pulls back. like a rubberband, snapping back into place, her mind extricates from his. she rests one hand on the metal frame just above his shoulder and leans in, dropping her voice, affecting a softness as though her desire not to hurt him was some authentic earnest.
it's not. she wants to pry him apart. pick him open and take a look inside. but there is the objective to consider. ]
You can do better than that. You're going to have to, if you don't want me to go looking for myself.
[He relaxes almost instantly, exhaling heavily in relief. His eyes start to close, but startle open when her hand rests near his shoulder. His head turns as much as his neck will allow to eyeball her warily.
This would have been nicer, if he had any reason to trust her (which he doesn't).]
I don't know what else you want me to tell you. The Resistance -- they don't want to be tracked anymore than I do.
[ she drops her hand away, exhaling her disdain. it's not the answer she wanted, but she doesn't doubt the truth. no, he's too afraid, too spineless for it to be anything less.
(why would the force choose him?) ]
Will he attempt to make contact again?
[ they must have been truly desperate to attempt to ferry anything through him in the first place, right? it makes the likelihood seem higher. ]
[That has a little bite to it. He gains confidence when she puts some distance between them. Frankly, he hopes that nobody bothers trying. Even if it was the Resistance's sloppiness that got him into this mess, he doesn't actually wish ill on them.]
[ she cants her head to the side, considering him. ]
Perhaps we'll turn up nothing to help us track down the stormtrooper in searching your belongings. Perhaps not. But there are other ways you can serve the First Order while we find out.
[ there is, after all, one other connection that can be exploited. ]
How long has it been since you spoke with your mother?
[Of course it wouldn't be that easy. But he had to try. He goes limp in the chair, full of exasperation (and half an attempt at some form of bravado).]
The ship is a rental.
["Rental". But then she digs up the first thing everyone goes for when they try to question his legitimacy as a smuggler. This is a game he is practiced at.
Though, perhaps not with a Force user. It takes every ounce of his self control to stay as lifeless as he has already made himself.]
You're giving me little choice in this, Ben. I don't want this to be painful for you, but ...
[ she doesn't sound very sorry for that. actually, she will enjoy the pain that she causes him, once she has made it clear that it his fault alone for refusing to cooperate. ]
I understand. You've never felt what it's like to have someone reach into your mind. [ she cradles one hand against the side of his face, pushing hair away from his temple. ] I'll tell you. [ it's a deceptively gentle offer. she knows. she has had to feel it. she has not had a soft life, a wasted life, cast off from all the options handed to him at birth. ]
It's like putting your head inside of an ion drive. And you know it shouldn't hurt because there's nothing there, just this pressure bearing down on you, drilling its way deeper into your skull, and you can't stop it. And when it breaks the surface, it's like your whole being cracks under the pressure. It leaves fissures. And then it scrapes deep down into them and pries them wider.
[What did he do in his life to deserve this? It starts looping in his head in an effort to drown out Kira’s detailed discussion of how she planned to rip his mind apart. It only works half way — he still seems to catch the more brutal descriptions.]
And if there is nothing in there for you to take?
[Which is nonsense, of course. Almost everything he had said thusfar to her had been a nonsequiter, an attempt to make him seem less important than he was. It worked on almost everyone else. But this? He has no defense for this.]
[ maybe she'll send him to phasma as a broken shell, the ideal candidate for the stormtrooper program. then they could send him back to his mother, and—
she's getting ahead of herself. her grip tightens in his hair, and he'll feel it again. the pressure of her mind trying to break the surface of his. ]
We'll start with the stormtrooper's stolen weapons. And then, perhaps you can tell us where your mother is hiding her rebels.
[Ben sucks in a breath nervously when he feels her hand tighten in his hair, fists balling. He had momentarily entertained cooperating, and letting her take what she needed to spare himself the trouble. But his instincts kick in the second she goes digging.
His teeth grit and his eyes slam shut, pulling his head away from her as much as the bindings will allow. It feels like scraping his skull against concrete, a scrape and a burn all at once that is relentless. He thinks briefly of Finn’s terrified face as Kira had found him, and his hasty escape. The weapons, hidden in a small business operation down main street — a dark corner, where none of the brightly glittered patrons would bother to tread.
He feels the thought cross his mind and struggles to clamp on it — and all other thought, to kee them from leaving. Instead, he focuses on the thought of the artificial ocean, and how he had planned to spend the night counting his earnings under the stars. It wasn’t the same as the beautiful blue waters of Chandrila, but —]
[ she has what she wants. it would be simple to pick up and go. the operation on main street is one she would recognize, should she come across it—one she could easily direct a unit of stormtroopers to. the faster the better.
but that's not what she wants.
though the first order's initial purpose might be, she's not done here. ]
Chandrila?
[ she smiles. ]
Birthplace of the New Republic. I thought you didn't care for politics.
[ she seizes onto that thought and shunts her way in. as promised, it feels like he's being cracked open at his very core. something jutting into the base of his skull and prying it apart. ]
[The squirm turns to a thrash of pain, breathing accelerating to hyperventilation as he feels his mind crack open. It feels like someone is peeling his eyelids back and forcing him to stare at the sun, searing through his skull and forcing him to focus on his initial train of thought.
Chandrila, birthplace of the New Republic. She wasn’t wrong. It was where he was born and raised until his father—]
GET OUT!
[He snarls, spitting messily. The memory of Han Solo unearths anger from the base of his fear. —until his father had gone off to make contact with an old acquaintance, and had never come back. Trapped by the First Order in transit, before the New Republic even had a chance to know they had risen. Maybe if they had listened to him about the activity in the Outer Rim the first time —
Ben doesn’t quite understand by what process it happens, but all he can think to do is push with everything he has.]
she had not been with the order then, but she knew the story. it was the first marked blow delivered by the first order against the republic. one of their heroes, however misplaced that reputation in rey's opinion — smugglers were the sort of people who had landed her in that hole at the edge of the galaxy — felled in the early days of the conflict.
and poor ben, like a lost child, still feeling the ache of his father's death. she savors that grief. and in some ways, it is context for what he has cast aside. he has run away from the same fate. ]
You—
[ but before she can goad him, something happens.
something forces her back. a barrier of some kind. the force welling up within him and pressing outward. pain and concentration contort her expression. this ... isn't supposed to happen. she pulls back, withdrawing her hand from his hair, sweat stuck on her fingertips now. she straightens. ]
That's enough.
[ no. no, it's not. he can feel it now. she's afraid. ]
[He feels — fear. But it isn’t his. He has felt the emotions of others before, not unlike his mother. A curse of empathy, his father had called it. His mother had never bothered to correct him. He thinks he might know better now, given how quickly Kira backs off. The vengeful snarl sticks to his expression and he grabs onto her fear like a rope, flailing in the sea that is slowly drowning him. The pain of her probe shoots down his spine continuously even as he reaches.
And he tugs. And tugs. And tugs]
What are you afraid of? Huh?!
[Its both a taunt and a demand. He wants to fight — anything but being stuck in this chair, feeling his sanity crack under her hand.]
[ he thrashes against the restraints like an animal. spitting and howling. she could surge onward. push through his resistance. navigate the maze of his mind and rip and rip until she got everything she wanted.
but she sees now what it's doing.
she's not quick enough to stop it. not before he gets something of his own. she grits her teeth, trying to hold it back, but — there. it tastes like iron on his teeth. fear that his power is greater than hers, that she is what she has always been. nothing.
she severs the connection, drawing sudden breath as she extricates herself from his mind entirely. ]
So much anger inside of you.
[ push it back on him. she straightens her collar, lifting her chin. ]
Let's give you some time to cool down. Once we've recovered the First Order's property, perhaps we can try again. There is still the matter of your mother.
[She cuts the connection, and it feels like he has been doused in ice water while simultaniously being pulled above the tide. He takes a deep breath, skin prickling with a sensation he doesn’t recognize. All the while, he digests the sudden thought in his head — she is aftaid of him, of his power? That couldn’t be right. He didn’t have any power — that was his uncle’s side of the family.
Some of his anger bleeds out, and even though he was still strapped dow, he was happy for her to have backed out of his kind. It was everything she promised and worse.]
If they didn’t take them already.
[He says it, half drowsy, and then spits excess saliva sideways on the floor. A combonation of needing to breathe better, and a gesture of disrespect.]
With a reputation like yours, I thought you'd have more to offer than bravado and poor manners.
[ she does not share his fatigue. her blood runs hot and fast, fighting the panic that claws its way up her throat. can he sense it? no. look at him. he's a mess, chewed up by what little she had done to search him. he was weak, already crumbling.
he would never be able to withstand the supreme leader. ]
Don't go anywhere. I'm not finished with you.
[ she says it like he could. like she doesn't have him restrained like a dog to be put down. and then she turns and leaves, rattled to her very bones by what he had done. ]
[Don’t go anywhere she says. Again, that fear of his power. As if he had such a thing. Needless to say, he is glad for her departure. His muscles slowly unclench, and his head gradually begins to ache less. And as the ache subsides, he begins to wonder.
He glances down to his restraints. He had no real knowledge of what the Force was capable of, aside from what Kira had just demonstrated, and a few basics. Unlocking locks seemed unlikely.
Ben finds himself closing his eyes anyway, reaching for that feeling he had found when pushing Kira out of his head. It doesn’t quite translate — there is an emptiness that follows, and the distant presence of — yes, her. He recognizes her, full of anger, fear, and ... lonliness, maybe. Its hard to tell from a distance.
Focus.
He gets lost in his attempts to wriggle the shackles open. If he could just get free...maybe he could escape the planet before she came back.
The bindings rattle from his clumsy efforts to manipulate the Force around them. But they don’t budge.]
[ when kira reports to the supreme leader, he does not send her to clear the weapons cache with captain phasma's stormtroopers. instead, he pries open her mind, demanding to see the smuggler for himself. to see ben's light for himself.
some part of her wants to hide it, and that fight makes the experience worse. a splitting pain that lingers, dizzying her, setting her on edge well after she has been dismissed. this is the punishment for wanting something for her own. for reaching for something that does not belong to her, for assuming anything ever could be hers and not the supreme leader's.
he wants the smuggler on his side. to replace her. she's sure of it. such a bright light, untainted as she has been. shining. brighter than hers by far. he has more than she does. he has bloodline. he has—
the door heaves open to reveal him still there in the rack.
she says nothing. she hasn't decided what she wants here yet, though leader snoke's orders were clear. the door closes behind her and she paces around him like she were the animal in the cage.
to turn him is to sign her own death warrant.
to do any less is to fail the supreme leader and suffer the consequences.
to kill him and call it necessity is a lie she cannot sustain, one that would only deny herself this grasping fascination she feels. ]
[Abruptly, he stops trying to do anything when the door hisses open, meeting her stare with a glare until she starts to circle him. Gradually, his anger melts to confusion. He is the one strapped to a chair, so why is she treating him like a bomb that is about to go off?]
Well? You look like you bet on the wrong fathier.
[He hasn’t had much time to prepare but there is conviction in his voice. He might not be with the Resistance officially, but he is not about to give her his mother. He’d sooner break his own wrists to get free than betray her to the First Order.
There is something else too. He can’t pick up on the nuances of the emotion, but doubt permeates her. So he tries to latch onto it]
[ she says it in warning. if he says the wrong thing, she might just kill him, and then it's all for nothing. she's heaving out labored breaths now, angry, barely restrained. it's taking everything just to keep herself reined in right now, and listening to him won't help.
but as long as she is here with him, the supreme leader will be able to feel her, will assume she is doing what needs to be done. what he has asked her to do.
she turns her head, cracks her neck. tries to shake out some of the tension. ]
[He clamps up briefly, watching how she paces and tries to shake off tension. He is curious, confused, and can’t help the urge to reach out and understand in spite of what she had done to him not so long ago. So, he swallows, and tries again.]
Are you...ok?
[This is less sarcastic, though still hesitant. She had just dug into his mind with a rusty railroad spike after all.]
[ she stops in her pacing and turns to look at him. of course, she's behind him, so he wouldn't know it except through the fact that she doesn't come around the other side of the rack that holds him. that, and the force. stars, the question itself seems to make him burn brighter. insult to injury. ]
If I were in your position, I wouldn't be worrying about others.
[ maybe that's the difference between growing up like he did and growing up like she did. she didn't get the luxury of worrying about anyone else. she'd never had anyone to worry about in the first place, let alone someone to show her how to do it.
she comes around to stand in front of him. ]
Would you die for her?
[ his mother, of course. she doesn't want to ask him to choose his fate, but she's curious. if she did, would he have her kill him? would he foolishly hope to withstand the pressure of snoke's hand, only to turn and kill his own mother? ]
[Ben stares back, blinking his dark eyes uncertainly. He doesn’t really want to die at all, let alone for anyone or anything. But... that was his mother. She loved him, and ... he loved her, even if duty and emotional distance kept them apart in present time.]
—she’s my mother.
[Like that alone should explain everything. He couldn’t bare to live witht himself if he even thought about leaving her to die. The thought of it is insulting. He isn’t a monster.]
Just because I don’t agree with her doesn’t mean I want her dead.
[ he could not have picked a worse person to be like WELL YOU KNOW WHAT FAMILY MEANS TO YOU to. honestly. like, the worst possible response.
she throws her hand out and the air squeezes around his windpipe. which is about the clearest 'please stop talking, for your sake' anyone could ever get. ]
You think she wouldn't do it to you? [ she approaches now. ] If I sent a message that you were here, do you think she would come for you? Or do you think she would call it an acceptable loss to the cause?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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it's not. she wants to pry him apart. pick him open and take a look inside. but there is the objective to consider. ]
You can do better than that. You're going to have to, if you don't want me to go looking for myself.
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This would have been nicer, if he had any reason to trust her (which he doesn't).]
I don't know what else you want me to tell you. The Resistance -- they don't want to be tracked anymore than I do.
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[ she drops her hand away, exhaling her disdain. it's not the answer she wanted, but she doesn't doubt the truth. no, he's too afraid, too spineless for it to be anything less.
(why would the force choose him?) ]
Will he attempt to make contact again?
[ they must have been truly desperate to attempt to ferry anything through him in the first place, right? it makes the likelihood seem higher. ]
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[That has a little bite to it. He gains confidence when she puts some distance between them. Frankly, he hopes that nobody bothers trying. Even if it was the Resistance's sloppiness that got him into this mess, he doesn't actually wish ill on them.]
Now, can I go? Please?
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[ she cants her head to the side, considering him. ]
Perhaps we'll turn up nothing to help us track down the stormtrooper in searching your belongings. Perhaps not. But there are other ways you can serve the First Order while we find out.
[ there is, after all, one other connection that can be exploited. ]
How long has it been since you spoke with your mother?
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The ship is a rental.
["Rental". But then she digs up the first thing everyone goes for when they try to question his legitimacy as a smuggler. This is a game he is practiced at.
Though, perhaps not with a Force user. It takes every ounce of his self control to stay as lifeless as he has already made himself.]
We've been taking an extended break.
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[ she doesn't sound very sorry for that. actually, she will enjoy the pain that she causes him, once she has made it clear that it his fault alone for refusing to cooperate. ]
I understand. You've never felt what it's like to have someone reach into your mind. [ she cradles one hand against the side of his face, pushing hair away from his temple. ] I'll tell you. [ it's a deceptively gentle offer. she knows. she has had to feel it. she has not had a soft life, a wasted life, cast off from all the options handed to him at birth. ]
It's like putting your head inside of an ion drive. And you know it shouldn't hurt because there's nothing there, just this pressure bearing down on you, drilling its way deeper into your skull, and you can't stop it. And when it breaks the surface, it's like your whole being cracks under the pressure. It leaves fissures. And then it scrapes deep down into them and pries them wider.
And that, that's if you don't fight it.
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And if there is nothing in there for you to take?
[Which is nonsense, of course. Almost everything he had said thusfar to her had been a nonsequiter, an attempt to make him seem less important than he was. It worked on almost everyone else. But this? He has no defense for this.]
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[ maybe she'll send him to phasma as a broken shell, the ideal candidate for the stormtrooper program. then they could send him back to his mother, and—
she's getting ahead of herself. her grip tightens in his hair, and he'll feel it again. the pressure of her mind trying to break the surface of his. ]
We'll start with the stormtrooper's stolen weapons. And then, perhaps you can tell us where your mother is hiding her rebels.
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His teeth grit and his eyes slam shut, pulling his head away from her as much as the bindings will allow. It feels like scraping his skull against concrete, a scrape and a burn all at once that is relentless. He thinks briefly of Finn’s terrified face as Kira had found him, and his hasty escape. The weapons, hidden in a small business operation down main street — a dark corner, where none of the brightly glittered patrons would bother to tread.
He feels the thought cross his mind and struggles to clamp on it — and all other thought, to kee them from leaving. Instead, he focuses on the thought of the artificial ocean, and how he had planned to spend the night counting his earnings under the stars. It wasn’t the same as the beautiful blue waters of Chandrila, but —]
Get. Out.
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but that's not what she wants.
though the first order's initial purpose might be, she's not done here. ]
Chandrila?
[ she smiles. ]
Birthplace of the New Republic. I thought you didn't care for politics.
[ she seizes onto that thought and shunts her way in. as promised, it feels like he's being cracked open at his very core. something jutting into the base of his skull and prying it apart. ]
Show me. What does it mean to you?
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Chandrila, birthplace of the New Republic. She wasn’t wrong. It was where he was born and raised until his father—]
GET OUT!
[He snarls, spitting messily. The memory of Han Solo unearths anger from the base of his fear. —until his father had gone off to make contact with an old acquaintance, and had never come back. Trapped by the First Order in transit, before the New Republic even had a chance to know they had risen. Maybe if they had listened to him about the activity in the Outer Rim the first time —
Ben doesn’t quite understand by what process it happens, but all he can think to do is push with everything he has.]
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she had not been with the order then, but she knew the story. it was the first marked blow delivered by the first order against the republic. one of their heroes, however misplaced that reputation in rey's opinion — smugglers were the sort of people who had landed her in that hole at the edge of the galaxy — felled in the early days of the conflict.
and poor ben, like a lost child, still feeling the ache of his father's death. she savors that grief. and in some ways, it is context for what he has cast aside. he has run away from the same fate. ]
You—
[ but before she can goad him, something happens.
something forces her back. a barrier of some kind. the force welling up within him and pressing outward. pain and concentration contort her expression. this ... isn't supposed to happen. she pulls back, withdrawing her hand from his hair, sweat stuck on her fingertips now. she straightens. ]
That's enough.
[ no. no, it's not. he can feel it now. she's afraid. ]
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And he tugs. And tugs. And tugs]
What are you afraid of? Huh?!
[Its both a taunt and a demand. He wants to fight — anything but being stuck in this chair, feeling his sanity crack under her hand.]
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but she sees now what it's doing.
she's not quick enough to stop it. not before he gets something of his own. she grits her teeth, trying to hold it back, but — there. it tastes like iron on his teeth. fear that his power is greater than hers, that she is what she has always been. nothing.
she severs the connection, drawing sudden breath as she extricates herself from his mind entirely. ]
So much anger inside of you.
[ push it back on him. she straightens her collar, lifting her chin. ]
Let's give you some time to cool down. Once we've recovered the First Order's property, perhaps we can try again. There is still the matter of your mother.
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Some of his anger bleeds out, and even though he was still strapped dow, he was happy for her to have backed out of his kind. It was everything she promised and worse.]
If they didn’t take them already.
[He says it, half drowsy, and then spits excess saliva sideways on the floor. A combonation of needing to breathe better, and a gesture of disrespect.]
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[ she does not share his fatigue. her blood runs hot and fast, fighting the panic that claws its way up her throat. can he sense it? no. look at him. he's a mess, chewed up by what little she had done to search him. he was weak, already crumbling.
he would never be able to withstand the supreme leader. ]
Don't go anywhere. I'm not finished with you.
[ she says it like he could. like she doesn't have him restrained like a dog to be put down. and then she turns and leaves, rattled to her very bones by what he had done. ]
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He glances down to his restraints. He had no real knowledge of what the Force was capable of, aside from what Kira had just demonstrated, and a few basics. Unlocking locks seemed unlikely.
Ben finds himself closing his eyes anyway, reaching for that feeling he had found when pushing Kira out of his head. It doesn’t quite translate — there is an emptiness that follows, and the distant presence of — yes, her. He recognizes her, full of anger, fear, and ... lonliness, maybe. Its hard to tell from a distance.
Focus.
He gets lost in his attempts to wriggle the shackles open. If he could just get free...maybe he could escape the planet before she came back.
The bindings rattle from his clumsy efforts to manipulate the Force around them. But they don’t budge.]
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some part of her wants to hide it, and that fight makes the experience worse. a splitting pain that lingers, dizzying her, setting her on edge well after she has been dismissed. this is the punishment for wanting something for her own. for reaching for something that does not belong to her, for assuming anything ever could be hers and not the supreme leader's.
he wants the smuggler on his side. to replace her. she's sure of it. such a bright light, untainted as she has been. shining. brighter than hers by far. he has more than she does. he has bloodline. he has—
the door heaves open to reveal him still there in the rack.
she says nothing. she hasn't decided what she wants here yet, though leader snoke's orders were clear. the door closes behind her and she paces around him like she were the animal in the cage.
to turn him is to sign her own death warrant.
to do any less is to fail the supreme leader and suffer the consequences.
to kill him and call it necessity is a lie she cannot sustain, one that would only deny herself this grasping fascination she feels. ]
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Well? You look like you bet on the wrong fathier.
[He hasn’t had much time to prepare but there is conviction in his voice. He might not be with the Resistance officially, but he is not about to give her his mother. He’d sooner break his own wrists to get free than betray her to the First Order.
There is something else too. He can’t pick up on the nuances of the emotion, but doubt permeates her. So he tries to latch onto it]
Look...you don’t have to do this.
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[ she says it in warning. if he says the wrong thing, she might just kill him, and then it's all for nothing. she's heaving out labored breaths now, angry, barely restrained. it's taking everything just to keep herself reined in right now, and listening to him won't help.
but as long as she is here with him, the supreme leader will be able to feel her, will assume she is doing what needs to be done. what he has asked her to do.
she turns her head, cracks her neck. tries to shake out some of the tension. ]
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Are you...ok?
[This is less sarcastic, though still hesitant. She had just dug into his mind with a rusty railroad spike after all.]
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If I were in your position, I wouldn't be worrying about others.
[ maybe that's the difference between growing up like he did and growing up like she did. she didn't get the luxury of worrying about anyone else. she'd never had anyone to worry about in the first place, let alone someone to show her how to do it.
she comes around to stand in front of him. ]
Would you die for her?
[ his mother, of course. she doesn't want to ask him to choose his fate, but she's curious. if she did, would he have her kill him? would he foolishly hope to withstand the pressure of snoke's hand, only to turn and kill his own mother? ]
Tell me the truth. I'll know if you're lying.
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—she’s my mother.
[Like that alone should explain everything. He couldn’t bare to live witht himself if he even thought about leaving her to die. The thought of it is insulting. He isn’t a monster.]
Just because I don’t agree with her doesn’t mean I want her dead.
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she throws her hand out and the air squeezes around his windpipe. which is about the clearest 'please stop talking, for your sake' anyone could ever get. ]
You think she wouldn't do it to you? [ she approaches now. ] If I sent a message that you were here, do you think she would come for you? Or do you think she would call it an acceptable loss to the cause?
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