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 recognizes the dismissal for what it is. For a moment he stands there, considering his options.
And then, as instructed, he turns and crawls back behind the curtain on the bed. He does not sleep for some time, but he makes a point to trouble her no further.
And even still, he does not really sleep. His eyes are closed -- but his mind never quite allows him the bliss of slumber. He gives up the act after a few hours.]
[ The flooding has lessened, at least. Rey taps her fingers on the window pane. For the first time, seeming for all the world like she wants to get out, not just wait. She's had a lot of time to think, these past few hours. Being caught up with him in such close quarters makes that hard. They lose perspective as their vision tunnels on one another. ]
You threw me out.
[ She wants to make sure that's well-established. ]
You don't trust me. You would rather see my friends dead than me happy with them. [ He had tried to kill Keith. She had been foolish to walk back from that at all. ] What kind of companionship is that?
[ Doesn't he understand that he's asking her to live a half-life with him? Meanwhile, he treats her like her needs are an attack on him, then when it inconveniences him, or when he's confronted with the fear of death, he claws for it anyway. It's all he has, but he's the one refusing to search for more. ]
I've never had anything to myself, before. Nothing I did not care about losing. And I thought they would steer you from me.
[It's an explanation, not entirely unfounded. An excuse, is what she will call it. That is fine -- he just wants to get it out before he follows up with:]
It...was a mistake.
[He doesn't specify what was a mistake, of course. But he does not argue the points she tries to make. If nothing else had been made clear to him, it was that he would not win anything by refusing to bend. Not this time.]
[ Rey adopts an unearned levity. It rings wrong. Off-key. Because he's so familiar to her now, but that familiarity only helps her point out the gaps. The same pits that used to trap her. ]
You do that sometimes. You'll say that, instead of "I'm sorry." Because you're not sorry for what you did, or what you said. It was a mistake because you don't like the consequences. Like a bad calculation.
[ Some part of her hopes that this time, he tells her she's wrong. This time, he says that he's sorry, and he means it. Instead of avoiding it because she will sense the inherent dishonesty. But she's not hanging onto that hope anymore. ]
[The way she dissects him is disarming and makes him shrink in on himself some. He doesn't really ever know what to say, when she manages to pin him down under his own defense mechanisms. She will no doubt feel the way his anxiety boils over when she points it out.]
I am. I am sorry.
[That, at least, seems like a real apology. He does not know what drives him to say it then, but it comes from his mouth unbidden.]
[ Despite her hope, he catches her off guard. The mask of ease slips. The hardness cracks away like a brittle coating, and her mouth hangs open as she regards him with bright, vulnerable eyes. At first, she doesn't say anything. He derailed her every expectation with that, and she doesn't know what course to correct to. Instead, she gapes, blinking away the surprise.
Then, she steps towards him. Cautious, wobbly, but firm. Just a few steps. Not even enough to close the already narrow distance in this cramped space. ]
[ She takes another uneasy step forward. He's listening. She can tell from the way he pushes for more understanding. This isn't lip service; he wants to make a change. But wanting isn't the same as doing. So she stops after another step forward, drawing a deep breath. Steadying herself. There has to be a limit to how far she's willing to bend. ]
We all feel afraid sometimes. You feel the fear, and you do it anyway. Because the rewards are worth it. You ... You wanted to have someone who would come for you. [ She won't let him forget that. ] Like I would. If I'm the only person you ever trust, the only person you open yourself up to ... People might not disappoint you, Ben. But they won't surprise you either. And they won't be able to care.
[ And he wants to be cared about. She knows that because it's one of the things they have most in common—loneliness and neglect turned into starvation. ]
[His expression will tell her that he is calculating the information she gives him. Now is when he sits up, bracing himself with both arms even as he moves upright. He follows her logic, and yet --]
It is not only that. I am not the kind of person most people care for.
[Not just because he is a murderer. But because he is awkward, does not take social cues, among other problems.]
[ That never changed. She won't let him get away with arguing that her establishing boundaries is the same as abandoning him or caring about him any less. It's the truth. ]
And I'm not special. [ Her voice cracks a little on the words. ] I'm nobody.
[ Even if that fact hurts her, it makes her point. ] Caring for you isn't a fluke. It's only because you let me see something you don't show other people. You ... cared. You understood. You listened, when I needed someone.
It grew because I saw that Snoke had failed to turn you into a monster.
[ She's upon him then, in a moment. Swept up into the aching intensity of belief, of hope. Standing right in front of him, she makes her heartfelt plea, speech quickening with religious fervor. ]
He made you cut yourself off from people. From love. [ She shakes her head. Thinking of Han still hurts. It always will. And she wants to forgive him for it, but until he learns the lesson and rejects Snoke's teachings, not just the man, then Han's death will have been in vain. ] If you really want to put him behind you, then the bravest thing you can do is embrace the parts of yourself that he rejected.
[ Softly, slower now, ] I'm not the only person who flew into the heart of the First Order to save you, Ben. I'm not the only one who believed you can come back from this. I'm not ... some anomaly. You are worth saving. You are worth caring for.
[Ah, there it is. When she tries to bring it back to his parents, something sours in his chest, and he goes quiet. Before long, he comments, reaching up to cup her face. He knows he will hurt her with his next words, but they tumble out anyway.]
Yes. You are.
[Before she can twist away from his grip, his other hand falls to her waist, and his eyes lower from her's. For every ounce Han's death hurts her, just thinking of his parents makes him want to wither away.]
If you weren't, I might not have gone to him at all. They feared me -- even as a child. They all did.
[His eyes finally flick up, because this part is easy.]
[ She doesn't flinch away, though she should. Not so long ago, she had told him what a poison he had been for her. But she isn't being drawn into it now. For the first time, it feels like this conversation is happening out in the open. Her hurt and her hope are both bare on her face, unabashed. ]
They weren't. They made a mistake. Just like you did. [ Rey reaches up to place one hand against his chest. Comfort, but also a flat palm keeping some distance. She isn't ready to let the heightened emotions of the moment push them back into anything haphazardly. ] But your father loved you. He tried to make it right. Your mother, too.
[ In different ways, that Rey isn't nearly as qualified to describe, but which she knows with utter confidence. ]
[He corrects her, but his voice is wavering. Killing his father hadn't been easy. Coming back from it hadn't been easy either. He does not even want to think about his mother.]
It does not matter now. They are gone. And they waited until I had you to even try and come for me.
You didn't have me when your father came for you. You'd kidnapped me. [ Let's not get it twisted. ] And it's not worth any less just because he's not the only one who tried. It's not a contest for who can love you the most. You're missing the point. [ On purpose, a cynic might think. Rey chooses not to. ] Your mother is still alive. And there are other people who, if they knew you — the real you — would care just as much. But you won't let them because you think everyone is bound to disappoint you like your parents.
Yes. I kidnapped you. You were in my possession. I had you.
[Semantics, as far as Kylo Ren is concerned. But the rest -- the rest...
There are other reasons, reasons he doesn't really want to acknowledge out loud. But it all comes back to that which she demands that he fight: the fear.]
You? [He offers her the briefest of smiles -- it is sad, but no less understanding of the irony of her question.] You've had a taste of it. I imagine it might have been sweeter, if things were different.
[ It's the first time she doesn't like to see him smile. It's such a rarity, most of them only half-measures. But this one sits wrong in her chest. Rey stills. ]
What do you mean?
[ Because it sounds a lot like he's throwing it back in her face and telling her that she is holding people at a distance, afraid they'll leave like her parents did. Which would be ridiculous. She doesn't. She has people now. Maybe it takes her time, maybe she seldom lets them all the way in, the way she has let Ben in, but she has them. ]
[ She leaves it there, flatly. It hits her wrong that he seems to frame it as a fault. He thought things would be better if she were more damaged. If she looked on everyone with more suspicion. ]
People who care about me, and want what's best for me. People that I can count on to ... to show up. [ Unlike her parents. It's healing, in that way. Her jaw trembles a little before she manages to get out the crux of what she's getting at: ] I want that for you.
[ Her chest squeezes. A fluttering grip. That's the fear, but also the anticipation. It always comes when he's this close, and the way he combs her hair is familiar. Comforting. He knows how good it feels. He knows every part of her. It's deceptively effortless between them. ]
Do you mean that?
[ She so badly wants him to. A promise isn't follow-through. A maybe isn't even a promise. But it's an intent, and he wouldn't declare it if he didn't mean it. That's more than he's given her ever before. ]
[He tightens his grip on her hair slightly, enough to communicate exactly how serious he is. He holds her eyes for a few moments, reminding himself why he has cause to believe, before replying.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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And then, as instructed, he turns and crawls back behind the curtain on the bed. He does not sleep for some time, but he makes a point to trouble her no further.
And even still, he does not really sleep. His eyes are closed -- but his mind never quite allows him the bliss of slumber. He gives up the act after a few hours.]
Can you see the streets?
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[ The flooding has lessened, at least. Rey taps her fingers on the window pane. For the first time, seeming for all the world like she wants to get out, not just wait. She's had a lot of time to think, these past few hours. Being caught up with him in such close quarters makes that hard. They lose perspective as their vision tunnels on one another. ]
You threw me out.
[ She wants to make sure that's well-established. ]
You don't trust me. You would rather see my friends dead than me happy with them. [ He had tried to kill Keith. She had been foolish to walk back from that at all. ] What kind of companionship is that?
[ Doesn't he understand that he's asking her to live a half-life with him? Meanwhile, he treats her like her needs are an attack on him, then when it inconveniences him, or when he's confronted with the fear of death, he claws for it anyway. It's all he has, but he's the one refusing to search for more. ]
Never expect me to accept that again. I won't.
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[It's an explanation, not entirely unfounded. An excuse, is what she will call it. That is fine -- he just wants to get it out before he follows up with:]
It...was a mistake.
[He doesn't specify what was a mistake, of course. But he does not argue the points she tries to make. If nothing else had been made clear to him, it was that he would not win anything by refusing to bend. Not this time.]
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[ Rey adopts an unearned levity. It rings wrong. Off-key. Because he's so familiar to her now, but that familiarity only helps her point out the gaps. The same pits that used to trap her. ]
You do that sometimes. You'll say that, instead of "I'm sorry." Because you're not sorry for what you did, or what you said. It was a mistake because you don't like the consequences. Like a bad calculation.
[ Some part of her hopes that this time, he tells her she's wrong. This time, he says that he's sorry, and he means it. Instead of avoiding it because she will sense the inherent dishonesty. But she's not hanging onto that hope anymore. ]
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I am. I am sorry.
[That, at least, seems like a real apology. He does not know what drives him to say it then, but it comes from his mouth unbidden.]
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Then, she steps towards him. Cautious, wobbly, but firm. Just a few steps. Not even enough to close the already narrow distance in this cramped space. ]
I don't want us to have to hide or be afraid.
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How do you keep from being afraid?
[He does not ask after hiding. It feels easier to accept, now that everyone already knows.]
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[ She takes another uneasy step forward. He's listening. She can tell from the way he pushes for more understanding. This isn't lip service; he wants to make a change. But wanting isn't the same as doing. So she stops after another step forward, drawing a deep breath. Steadying herself. There has to be a limit to how far she's willing to bend. ]
We all feel afraid sometimes. You feel the fear, and you do it anyway. Because the rewards are worth it. You ... You wanted to have someone who would come for you. [ She won't let him forget that. ] Like I would. If I'm the only person you ever trust, the only person you open yourself up to ... People might not disappoint you, Ben. But they won't surprise you either. And they won't be able to care.
[ And he wants to be cared about. She knows that because it's one of the things they have most in common—loneliness and neglect turned into starvation. ]
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It is not only that. I am not the kind of person most people care for.
[Not just because he is a murderer. But because he is awkward, does not take social cues, among other problems.]
But you did.
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[ That never changed. She won't let him get away with arguing that her establishing boundaries is the same as abandoning him or caring about him any less. It's the truth. ]
And I'm not special. [ Her voice cracks a little on the words. ] I'm nobody.
[ Even if that fact hurts her, it makes her point. ] Caring for you isn't a fluke. It's only because you let me see something you don't show other people. You ... cared. You understood. You listened, when I needed someone.
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[The echoed correction is offered like another apology.]
You aren't nobody. Not to me.
[She doesn't want to hear it, he knows this too, but he has to quantify that before he continues speaking.]
I showed it to you because -- I felt something. For you. Something I do not feel for other people. Ever since I first saw you.
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When you first saw me, you were hunting me like an animal.
[ He can't possibly romanticize that. ]
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[What is he going to do, deny it? Even Kylo Ren is not so stupid.]
But when our minds touched -- it was the first time that I really...
[He is half babbling, so he is stuck digging for language to communicate the thoughts racing through his head.]
The first time I questioned. The first time I questioned since --
["Since I killed all of the Jedi" would probably ruin the moment, so he doesn't say it. The thought dies on his lips. He has to backpedal here.]
Our bond was not first formed by trust. Trust grew.
[It is an acknowledgement of what she is trying to tell him, thought he sounds somewhat defeated when he says it.]
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[ She's upon him then, in a moment. Swept up into the aching intensity of belief, of hope. Standing right in front of him, she makes her heartfelt plea, speech quickening with religious fervor. ]
He made you cut yourself off from people. From love. [ She shakes her head. Thinking of Han still hurts. It always will. And she wants to forgive him for it, but until he learns the lesson and rejects Snoke's teachings, not just the man, then Han's death will have been in vain. ] If you really want to put him behind you, then the bravest thing you can do is embrace the parts of yourself that he rejected.
[ Softly, slower now, ] I'm not the only person who flew into the heart of the First Order to save you, Ben. I'm not the only one who believed you can come back from this. I'm not ... some anomaly. You are worth saving. You are worth caring for.
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Yes. You are.
[Before she can twist away from his grip, his other hand falls to her waist, and his eyes lower from her's. For every ounce Han's death hurts her, just thinking of his parents makes him want to wither away.]
If you weren't, I might not have gone to him at all. They feared me -- even as a child. They all did.
[His eyes finally flick up, because this part is easy.]
In hindsight, it seems they were correct to fear.
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They weren't. They made a mistake. Just like you did. [ Rey reaches up to place one hand against his chest. Comfort, but also a flat palm keeping some distance. She isn't ready to let the heightened emotions of the moment push them back into anything haphazardly. ] But your father loved you. He tried to make it right. Your mother, too.
[ In different ways, that Rey isn't nearly as qualified to describe, but which she knows with utter confidence. ]
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[He corrects her, but his voice is wavering. Killing his father hadn't been easy. Coming back from it hadn't been easy either. He does not even want to think about his mother.]
It does not matter now. They are gone. And they waited until I had you to even try and come for me.
[So who, exactly, is of most import here?]
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[ Her hand pulls back. ]
You didn't have me when your father came for you. You'd kidnapped me. [ Let's not get it twisted. ] And it's not worth any less just because he's not the only one who tried. It's not a contest for who can love you the most. You're missing the point. [ On purpose, a cynic might think. Rey chooses not to. ] Your mother is still alive. And there are other people who, if they knew you — the real you — would care just as much. But you won't let them because you think everyone is bound to disappoint you like your parents.
Where would I be, if I thought that way?
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[Semantics, as far as Kylo Ren is concerned. But the rest -- the rest...
There are other reasons, reasons he doesn't really want to acknowledge out loud. But it all comes back to that which she demands that he fight: the fear.]
You? [He offers her the briefest of smiles -- it is sad, but no less understanding of the irony of her question.] You've had a taste of it. I imagine it might have been sweeter, if things were different.
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What do you mean?
[ Because it sounds a lot like he's throwing it back in her face and telling her that she is holding people at a distance, afraid they'll leave like her parents did. Which would be ridiculous. She doesn't. She has people now. Maybe it takes her time, maybe she seldom lets them all the way in, the way she has let Ben in, but she has them. ]
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["Craving love". He isn't ready to use that word. He brushes his fingers against her cheek -- he feels better, just for being able to be this close.]
I still enjoy my solitude. So long as I know the option is there, otherwise. But you...
[It is hard for him to imagine her not surrounded by people now. He might have been envious, if he were a different person.]
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[ She leaves it there, flatly. It hits her wrong that he seems to frame it as a fault. He thought things would be better if she were more damaged. If she looked on everyone with more suspicion. ]
People who care about me, and want what's best for me. People that I can count on to ... to show up. [ Unlike her parents. It's healing, in that way. Her jaw trembles a little before she manages to get out the crux of what she's getting at: ] I want that for you.
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[He lets his hand rest now, threading his fingers through her hair.]
Maybe I will understand that pleasure, before too long.
[There is doubt, but if he doesn't try -- he'll never know. And it is a clear path back to Rey allowing herself to be in his company.]
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Do you mean that?
[ She so badly wants him to. A promise isn't follow-through. A maybe isn't even a promise. But it's an intent, and he wouldn't declare it if he didn't mean it. That's more than he's given her ever before. ]
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I do.
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