#actually this is a KYLO REN SUPREMACY POST

[suspiciouslybluemilktea]

The fact that he still dreamt of the fire and brimstone was his greatest kept secret. Behind his closed eyelids he still saw it, lightening striking and ash fluttering to the ground like unnatural snowfall, marking destruction and filling his lungs with something disgusting. His anger had soared to new heights that night as his bitterness left him empty, choking on a feeling of what he could only describe to be abandonment and betrayal. He did not know which was more haunting, the screams of those he grew up with, or the look on his uncle’s face as he raised his weapon to him.

The night Luke Skywalker’s Jedi Academy burned to the ground was the very last Ben Solo was alive, and what remained of it all now was an ugly wound across his very soul. Like something created by a saber, it became cauterized by the heat, a gaping hole which refused to heal as vital organs were scorched in its path. A bacta tank could do nothing to save him from his past.

Under his new name and allegiance, he channeled this very reoccurring nightmare into a powerful weapon against those who had wronged him. Drowning within the pain rather than attempting to swim was how Kylo Ren operated, and he could see no ability to heal as he allowed himself to be pulled under. Under the First Order, he would learn to reopen this gash over and over again, twisting the knife deeper into himself whenever he got the chance. Where Ben Solo once felt hope and aspiration, Kylo Ren felt a melancholy sense of intense loathing. In a way mostly unclear to him, his anger was a method of mourning, manifesting further as he watched the newest Rebel fighter receive what love and autonomy he was denied. They gave to Rey endlessly.

Kylo Ren knew he was the product of familial failure, and that voice inside of his head telling him to look towards the facts isolated him greatly from others in his youth. The galactic heroes of the century he called his guardians, the legends turned bedtime stories for new generations born, all left him to rot in their own ways. He knew he was a monster created by their faults, and they were all to blame for his very fall from “grace”, or that set path they assigned to him. Growing up, if he had told another soul that their dearest Han, Luke and Leia were far from perfect poster figures, he’d only have been named a liar. A spoiled brat complaining about what gifts the universe had bestowed upon them, his heritage a huge leverage in both training, politics and more. Listening to that small familiar whisper in his ear, the seeds of truth finally flourished under the green light of his uncle’s lightsaber hovering directly above him.

To start, if thinking of them all again, he hated the man he called father, Han Solo. In his selfishness, that bastard craved his old life of crime and could not stay grounded. He found smuggling alongside that Wookiee to be more entertaining than his family, and at the end of the day still had very little in common with his mother besides the fact that they had a kid together. Han Solo would have rather been footloose and fancy free, head in the stars above than to have played the role of husband and father. Growing up, Ben felt it all, his mind nagging him that this disconnection was in fact his reality. He hated his true name now, Solo not even being a real surname. His father never really wanted more than a fling with some pretty princess…and yet this new girl was already so snug under his wing like a kid of his own maybe. Perhaps it’s because he chases the rush of new people excited to know him as an old hero of theirs.

Then there was his mother, one of the most important political figure heads of the century. Not only was she famed for being spectacularly beautiful, but strong willed and strong minded in her fight against the empire. She was the number one thing that swayed his usage of the dark side, and he was aware of what he’d have to do in order to fix that. Sever the ties…and to think no more of her soft hands against his cheeks as she sang him to sleep as a child. She already started their separation all those years ago shipping him off to become a Jedi, without being granted the same choice she had to follow something else instead…love in order to have him. His loud inner dialogue thundered at the thought of her, sorting her out to be indeed a hypocrite. While he practiced so very far from his mother, alone and missing her, Rey received training directly from her.

And as for his uncle Luke? He made up his mind about Ben all too quickly, deciding to kill his nephew placed into his care. He had casted the scales of judgment upon him without holding a call to court, and Kylo Ren hated him most of all, for judging his pull to the dark when Luke lived with the same. In fact, Luke spared Rey when experiencing hers.

And yet…even with this map sprawled out before him, he cannot find it within himself to hate the girl they dote on. All of the rage he directs through his power cannot be channeled at her, and it’s yet another thing that makes him weaker. Kylo Ren supposes he takes pity on Rey, being a small desert planet orphan longing to hold the stars that kept her company in her lonesomeness. In time, her heroes will fail her same as they did him. He will be there when it happens, waiting.

[scarrletmoon]

it's izzy hands it's kylo ren it's billy from stranger things it's snape it's draco it's loki circa 2012-2014 it's a REPEATED PATTERN throughout all of fandom of an antagonistic white guy getting a devoted fanbase that is both disproportionate to his importance in the story and also misunderstands the white guy's role as an antagonist. they think their mean little guy is a misunderstood victim and they base their entire fandom experience around him. and then in season 2 ofmd went and redeemed izzy before killing him off to further ed's arc, something that is a solid choice from a technical writing standpoint but from a fandom perspective it built the izzy fans up into thinking they were right about how izzy has never been homophobic, izzy is a poor downtrodden abuse victim, and from day one izzy has been a protector and the only competent guy around and a loyal and dutiful first mate. and possibly the most significant part is that so many izzy fans have accidentally and unknowingly tricked themselves into thinking that izzy is a main character bc their fandom engagement revolves so heavily around izzy that they forgot the actual show itself doesn't, so they were completely blindsided by a death that has been foreshadowed since season one ("im not dying, not for that twat and not for you" and "only retirement we get is death" and the whole "plumb the depths, man" sequence where izzy was talking to stede through a death shroud ffs). and i want so bad to just ignore it but we literally got a queer romcom centered around an interracial couple and an incredibly diverse cast and an indigenous main character and a diverse writer's room and the season ended on a happy note and it's all about queer joy AND YET. soooooooo much of the post-season discussion has to center around the white side character!!! even in death izzy hands takes up a disproportionate amount of the fandom conversation and im exhausted. it's every fandom! every fucking time!! this isnt anything new this is the same time-honored fandom tradition of white man favoritism YET A-FUCKING-GAIN and im SO FUCKING TIRED OF IT!!!!!!!!!

(i get so scared when i turn on anon bc i’ve consistently gotten such shitty, cowardly messages through it but i’m glad this isn’t one of them lmao)

i know i’ve said this 374748 times but the last time i made the kylo ren/snape/white villain connection on twitter (i mean that’s on me, it’s twitter) i had people legit furious with me for calling them nazis which………..i literally never said

and i get the frustration. trust me, I GET IT. the white villain problem smashes right into white fragility and makes it almost impossible to talk about any of it. it means, like you said, that we’re talking about a fucking white side character in cast of amazing, nonwhite talent, because some people can’t handle confronting the fact that whiteness insulates them from the realities of racism, and that their ignorance and hostility makes them active participants in white supremacy

(and it’s really hard to explain this to people who’ve been taught that racism is when slurs and white klan hoods, because then they’ll say and do the most vile shit and CRY or fight you when you gently try to explain the racist shit they just did)

and because fandom is very queer as well as very white, we also have to contend with the kinds of white people who think that queerness somehow negates their whiteness. that they can’t express their privilege in contexts involving POC. that we’re making shit up to be victims and to minimize their pain on purpose. and time and time again, i have had my queerness erased by white people, so they feel comfortable ignoring criticism i only ever shared bc i was hoping for something better

i’ve said it again and again and again and AGAIN that it’s ESPECIALLY depressing seeing white people close ranks in ofmd fandom especially BECAUSE it has such a diverse cast and doesn’t shy away from discussing racism in all the ways it manifests. like, most of the racism in the show isn’t even subtle and y’all STILL elected to ignore it? do y’all not feel ANY shame about that?

and some of them don’t! bc they think we’re infiltrators. bc they’re only a few steps removed from “they will not replace us” as they see more POC try to join fannish spaces. and they’ll pretend they’re not trying to push us out bc they’re marginalized in other ways — deliberately ignoring the fact that they’re also crushing their fellow queer, disabled and marginalized community

so you’re tired? yeah. me the fuck too. we deserve so much better

[cosleia]

Hux Crisis #2

I remarked yesterday that I was having another Hux crisis. (The first Hux crisis is documented a little bit here.) Basically, my Hux crises are caused by my personal understanding of him coming into apparent conflict with canon depictions. This also happened to me with Carlos the Scientist from Welcome to Night Vale. The situation isn't great; historically it has caused me to stop writing for a long time while I recalibrated my headcanons.

Because I'm hoping that won't happen this time, I originally wasn't going to discuss it too much, but then this morning I saw this post:

When I saw this, I just felt like that it fit Hux so well. The idea that his family line might be cursed in some way, resulting in all his perceived failures, is narratively compelling to me. It made me want to write down my thoughts and feelings about Hux.

I didn't want to clutter up OP's notes with my nonsense, so I made a screenshot for this post. If you want to see/reblog the original, I reblogged it here.

Let's get into it.

We know JJ named Hux after a name he saw on a gravestone. He wanted Hux to be a tragic character from the beginning. And Hux was. We learned that he'd grown up being abused, and that it's likely he was stolen from his mother when he was taken/rescued from his home planet during the New Republic siege. And of course we saw the tragedy continue through the films:

The stormtrooper program wound up producing a Resistance general

Starkiller Base was destroyed

The Fulminatrix was destroyed

The Supremacy was destroyed

Kylo Ren became Supreme Leader

The First Order failed to wipe out the Resistance on Crait

And finally, Hux was found out as the spy and executed

It could be argued that many of these things were failures on Hux's part. The comics give us even more failures: in Journey to TLJ: Captain Phasma, he does not issue an official evacuation order when Starkiller Base begins to collapse, which enables Phasma to keep troopers who saw her from surviving to report it, and probably also resulted in unnecessary losses. He also seems not to question Phasma's version of how the shields were lowered on Starkiller. In Hyperspace Stories #8, which seems to be set pre-TFA, he loses control of a wild creature called a Bramalish that he set upon a non-cooperative colony.

I get chalking all of this up to incompetence, to thinking that Hux kept failing because he was stupid or prideful.

But we have evidence to the contrary.

Hyperspace Stories #8 also shows us Hux is quick to adapt to change. When Ren arrives to fight the Bramalish, Hux orders the stormtroopers to help him immediately. When Ren brings back the city leader whose cooperation will secure the First Order's power, Hux instantly adjusts to "negotiating with" (threatening) him. While I won't deny that setting a Bramalish loose believing the stormtroopers could contain it was a miscalculation, the strategy was to terrorize the populace, and it worked. That plus Ren's contributions scored the First Order a win.

In the comic Star Wars Adventures #30, set between TLJ and TROS, Hux's plan is to send stormtroopers to Vendaxa to follow a lead that the Resistance might be there. It's Supreme Leader Ren who insists on going personally. Hux goes with him because he sees an opportunity to ingratiate himself to Ren, and he actually manages to get Ren to say he has earned his trust, "for now." It turns out there was no need for the leader of the First Order to go to Vendaxa personally. The Resistance isn't even there, and Ren and Hux wind up in mortal danger. I think it can be safely argued that Hux was right, and circumstances (Kylo Ren) worked against him.

In that same comic, Hux tells Ren, "I put my stormtroopers in charge of reconnaissance because leadership is trusting the people you lead to do their jobs." The loss of the Fulminatrix seems ludicrous in light of these words. Canady stood around waiting to be micromanaged; Hux is not a micromanager. (I ranted about this separately here.)

And then, of course, we have Age of Resistance - General Hux, another pre-TFA story. This is not only where we see more of Hux's abusive childhood, but also where we see him at his craftiest. He uses Ren's identity to manipulate Bylsma, and then he uses the shuttle sabotage to justify killing one of his childhood abusers. From this, it's clear he's not an idiot.

Let's go through the other perceived failures with a more critical eye.

First, the stormtrooper program. Yes, it "failed" in that Finn resisted his conditioning, as did Jannah and her company. But what percentage of stormtroopers actually defected or deserted? How does it compare to other militaries' defection/desertion rates? Is it even possible to have 100% loyalty? While I don't think we know the answer to the first two questions, the answer to the third is absolutely no.

The destruction of Starkiller Base would not have been possible without the shield being lowered. Hux knew the oscillator was a weak point and had it protected, not just by shields but by squadrons of fighters. It took an extraordinary series of events for the Resistance to win.

Trusting Phasma is either a blind spot, or he's playing the long game, as fellow kyluxers pointed out on my original Hux crisis post. Phasma conspired with him to kill Brendol; this was in both their self-interests, not the First Order's. If anything, TLJ cemented their relationship as a partnership. It's not a stretch to think Hux knows Phasma's true loyalty is to herself, and that he considers having her as a partner more advantageous than not. It's a gamble, but she's a powerful ally. I've wondered if their conversation when she returns to the Finalizer is coded...if what Hux is really asking is how well she covered her tracks.

(The fact that he doesn't seem to dwell on the loss of Starkiller, either in the Captain Phasma comic or at the beginning of TLJ, and he just looks annoyed when it's brought up in TROS, implies that he is forward-thinking, which is a vital quality in a leader.)

Hux not managing to keep Ren from becoming Supreme Leader is understandable. He's ready to kill Ren, but Ren stirs. Hux knows he can't defeat Ren in a fight. And unfortunately, Hux has rarely been able to talk Ren into anything. This is the rare moment he breaks emotionally: he's lost Starkiller, he's lost the Supremacy, and now he's lost Snoke, the one thing that has been protecting him from Ren. I don't think his action or inaction here is indicative of his intelligence so much as his trauma.

The battle of Crait wasn't actually lost. It simply wasn't a total victory. And the reason wasn't Hux or his commands. It was Kylo Ren. Without Ren there, the First Order would have wiped the Resistance out.

Hux being found out as a spy was, I've always thought, at least partially because Finn shot him in the leg instead of the arm. You'd think an enemy would aim for the head or chest. The arm would have been a more believable miss location. But of course, it also happened because of Hux's choice to report the escape to Pryde himself instead of going to medbay and sending a subordinate. This one I can't find a good explanation for, except maybe that he thought he would seem more loyal if he went personally. (I like to think it was because he knew Pryde would shoot him, and he took advantage of that to fake his own death.)

I'm showing obvious bias here, but even I can admit Hux isn't flawless. He can make mistakes and succumb to emotions like any other human. I just believe, based on my understanding of canon, that not everything he did was a mistake. In fact, I'd argue that the majority of his failures were due to circumstances outside his control. It's tragic, like JJ intended.

Because of that, I think that cursed family line idea fits really well. Maybe Hux finds out about the curse just when he's on the verge of giving up, and it makes him try even harder out of spite. Could he break free of the curse? Or is he doomed, like every other Hux?

[imetyouonljpodcast]

I MET YOU ON LJ: A Fandom Podcast

Episode #033: Fandom Racism

Let’s talk about racism in fandom! In this fan pick episode from @sphinx81​, Maggie and V discuss the complicated topic of how fandoms ignore and vilify their characters of color, most notably Finn, Poe Dameron, Sam Wilson, and Scott McCall. They also get into it about the explicit white supremacy around the characters of Kylo Ren, Snape, and Loki. There are no easy solutions.

And a quick text version of the disclaimer at the top of this episode:

We are white women. Fandom infrastructure was built by women who are like us, and as such fandom trends cater to our comfort most of the time.

We were raised in a racist society and as much as we try to educate and interrogate ourselves, we will probably fuck up in this episode and for that we are sorry, and we will try to do better.

We’re aware we do not have any authority on this subject, but we are trying to listen and learn. We’re not saying anything that fans of color have not been saying for years now.

We thought about having a guest but we don’t want to put the onus on fans of color to do the emotional labor for us; since WW have the power in fandom, we need to be active in conversations about race and privilege.

We’re also not going to be able to cover everything!

This Episode Covers…

fandom • fanfiction • fandom racism • every fandom ignores its characters of color • star wars • stormpilot • finn • poe dameron • racist sexual stereotypes • kylo ren, snape, and loki are all metaphors for white supremacy • kylux and reylo • migratory slash fandom • captain america: the winter soldier (2014) • sam wilson and girlfriend tropes • sidekicks never get to drive the story • lupita nyong’o • teen wolf • scott mccall • lovecraft country • christina braithwhite • stucky in wakanda • black panther (2018) • shawn/gus (psych) • iris west (the flash) • nile freeman (the old guard) • carol danvers/maria rambeau (captain marvel) • twilight • behind-the-scenes diversity • inclusion • equity • acceptance, not tolerance • fandom misogyny and misogynoir • community (not the show)

LISTEN and SUBSCRIBE wherever you get your podcasts!

Make sure to follow I Met You On LJ on your favorite social media:

PATREON: patreon (dot) com/imetyouonljpodcast      

FACEBOOK: facebook (dot) com/imetyouonljpodcast    

TUMBLR: @imetyouonljpodcast​​​​

INSTAGRAM: imetyouonljpodcast

TWITTER: imetyouonljpod

Show Notes & Resources under the cut.

A very short list of resources to begin your learning journey for fandom racism education:

stitchmediamix.com/2020/03/28/migratory-slash-fandoms-focus/

stitchmediamix.com/2020/03/26/what-shipping-says-about-fandom-antiblackness/

teenvogue.com/story/who-actually-gets-to-escape-into-fandom-column-fan-service

@fandomshatepeopleofcolor

@fansofcolor​

@diversehighfantasy

fanlore.org/wiki/RaceFail_%2709

fanlore.org/wiki/Your_Vagina_is_a_Bigot;_My_Vagina_is_a_Saint

pearwaldorf.tumblr.com/post/621948035639984128/guys-this-was-the-problem-all-along-im-doing

medium.com/@beccaeharrison/its-a-trap-reylos-racism-and-the-whiteness-of-data-in-the-harassment-of-women-online-be3a7fed040b

hansbekhart.tumblr.com/post/170944226853/dear-white-fandom-lets-talk-for-a-second-so

nichestars.tumblr.com/post/166879112070/diversehighfantasy-fishnbanjos-lierdumoa

[noodlecupcakeswritings]

An Unbreakable Bond - Chapter 15 (Ben Solo/Kylo RenxOC)

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren now has everything he could possibly dream of, except for someone to rule by his side. And he’ll do anything to get Cora back.

The final fic in my Kylo/Cora Star Wars canon series. This is most definitely a TROS fix it fic because fuck that movie and shitty writing.

Please leave likes, comments and reblogs if you like it. If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

Warnings: Violence, Language

Chapter 15

Cora

The Supremacy had been thrown into chaos thanks to The Resistance, which meant now was my chance to take the ship down and take out a good chunk of The First Order. After all, their beloved General wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. And I was more than willing to make that happen. Stepping out of Kylo Ren’s quarters showed me just how chaotic the situation was. Officers and troopers were running in every direction, not knowing what to do. Some had bags packed, ready to jump ship and abandon their cause. It was almost comical. Not a single one of them looked in my direction. They were all too worried about themselves.

Meaning none of them would bat an eyelid if I was seen near the armoury. Ben still had my saber, so I needed something to arm myself with. If it came down to that. Keeping my head down, I ventured through the ship until I found the armoury. The door was open, probably by the last careless person who had been inside. In their panic, they had likely forgotten to close the door and put in the passcode to lock it. Luck must be on my side. Entering the large armoury, I searched the shelves, ignoring the various blasters and ammo.

Finally, I found the perfect weapon. A small yet powerful bomb, one that was controlled by a countdown timer. Ignoring the screams from outside, I carefully picked the device up and put it in a duffel bag. The Resistance must already be aboard. Standing in the doorway, I scanned the corridor for the source of the screaming. At the far end of the corridor on the left stood a very welcome familiar sight. Varidun had his saber drawn, several stormtroopers already cut down and scattered haphazardly across the floor. Another three have their blasters pointed at him.

Varidun blocks the fire with his saber, using the force to throw one trooper back into the nearest wall hard enough that the sound of his spine breaking could be heard. The next one is taken out by his own blaster fire, deflected back at him. And the third is quickly decapitated by Varidun’s saber. Ignoring the bodies on the floor and only focusing on the happiness and hope that filled me at the sight of my teacher and true father figure, I ran to him. I was glad that he was the first familiar face I saw again. As I reached him, I threw my arms around the taller man, embracing him for the first time.

Varidun stumbles backward a few steps, having not expected the hug. There’s a pause before he puts his free arm around me to return the embrace. Smiling softly, I knew I would never get a chance like this again and savoured it whilst I could. Finally, I let go of him. “I’m assuming you're all there is to my rescue party?” I asked with a soft smirk. “Unfortunately.” “Well, now that you’ve successfully rescued me, would you maybe help me with a little something? A surprise for the General,” I asked, motioning to the duffel bag.

“Surprise, huh?” Varidun asked, struggling to keep the smirk off his face. “He told me he would rather go out in a blaze of glory than be arrested by the resistance. So I figured I’d help him with that.” “But the resistance isn’t here,” he replied with obvious sarcasm. My smirk grew at his tone. If it had been a member of the resistance, they would have condemned my plan. Good thing Varidun was the only member of my rescue party. Leading the way to Hux’s office, I knocked first to make sure he wasn’t inside. After a few moments of waiting, I then headed inside and placed the bag on his desk.

“You’re sure he’s going to show up?” Varidun asked. “I’m sure I could plant the idea in his head.” “I’m clearly not going to be able to stop you, so make sure you are quick. I’d rather not spend any longer here than we need to” After I pulled out the device, I looked it over. I had no idea how to turn the thing on, let alone set it up. “Any idea how this thing works?” I asked. “I doubt it’s the same as the Imperials, but I can try,” Varidun replied.

“I dont know, they looked up to them so much, it wouldn’t surprise me if it were similar just updated.” “Good point.” Varidun looks over the device a moment, flicking a switch before setting a sequence. “Set it for ten minutes. That should be enough time to get far enough away from the blast.” I spoke. Closing my eyes, I used the force to find Hux. Of course he’s on the bridge, barking orders at officers and troopers. It requires a little more effort and exertion to plant the idea in his mind from this distance, but it works, and he leaves his post.

“Okay, he’s coming,” I confirmed. Ushering Varidun out of the room, we took a few turns so we wouldn’t bump into Hux. “It’s a shame we won’t be able to see the look on his face,” I smirked. “It won’t exactly be there for long.” Stifling a laugh, we continued to the hanger. As we reached the open area, we were spotted by stormtroopers. They group together and start firing at us. Using the force, I deflected their fire, whilst Varidun did the same with his saber. There’s a trail of bodies littered across the floor, likely let by Varidun when he had landed his ship.

Varidun continued to block any blaster bolts I missed, providing me with cover as we made our way through the hanger. Not wanting to be weaponless, I picked up a fallen trooper’s blaster. When we reached the ship, Varidun ushered me inside first. There was only one seat. Rolling my eyes, I squeezed in behind the chair as Varidun climbed in after me. “Remind me when we get out of here to get you a bigger ship,” I remarked. “When I need one, I’ll let you know. Now hold on.” Varidun brings the ship to life and moves towards the hangers exit. Planting my feet firmly, I gripped the back of the chair for dear life as the ship lurched out of the hanger.

Now that one problem had been dealt with, I needed to find Ben and make sure he was alive. I had to help him somehow, even if it was a death wish going up against Sidious. Varidun dodged ships and swerved to avoid blasts. “Take me down to Exegol,” I shouted over the noise. “Why in all of deep space would you want to go there?” “Ben’s down there. I’m not just leaving him.” “What do you mean Ben’s down there? He went alone?!”

The familiar screech of tie fighters could be heard behind us and Varidun does a series of sharp swerves to avoid their fire. My nails dug into the leather of the chair as I tightened my grip, doing my best to keep my footing. “Rey was stupid enough to go alone, and he felt he had to help as he’s the one that caused this,” I explained. “Is this the same ‘Rey’ I heard about back at the Resistance Base?” Varidun asked. “Yes, the one who they hail as a hero even though she caused more trouble than actual heroics.” “In my experience heroes tend to be the ones causing the issues, anyway.”

Once Varidun dealt with the tie fighters, although thankfully there are plenty of resistance ships around to help, he landed on Exegol’ s surface next to Kylo Ren’s tie silencer. The dark force energy on the planet made my blood run cold and my skin turn to gooseflesh. But I had braved a sith tomb, I could brave this. I had to, for Ben. I would not let him face Sidious alone. Even if it meant I died in the process. Placing my hand on Varidun’s shoulder, I knew this could be the last time I saw him. “I understand if you don’t want to come with me, you’ve already done so much for me. Thank you for everything.” I said softly.

As Varidun helped me down from his ship, two crafts belonging to The First Order landed, having followed us. “It appears I won’t have a chance to follow you. Go, make sure Ben is alright. I will stay and make sure you aren’t followed,” Varidun declared. Nodding, I swallowed down another wave of fear as I got closer to finding out what was inside that cave. “Thank you, Varidun,” I repeated. There was a small pause as I felt the need to say something else, but I thought better of it. He probably wouldn’t appreciate my sentimental streak. Turning, I ran inside the cave.

Keeping a tight grip on the blaster, I scanned my surroundings nervously. Stepping onto the turbo lift, I headed further down into the darkness. At the bottom, I spotted three bodies in the distance, all of them dressed in black. As I got closer, I could make out it was the remaining three knights of Ren. Continuing past them, I eventually came to a large room, which was eerily quiet. Inside there were no signs of Sidious, but that still didn’t completely put me at ease. Instead, I found Rey cradling a body whilst Ben tried to comfort her. The sight of Ben, alive, filled me with a happiness so great I thought I might burst.

Ben heard my footsteps as I ran to him, dropping my blaster. He struggled to get to his feet and limped over the best he could to meet me halfway. Throwing myself into his arms, we fell backwards, as he couldn’t support both of us. I kissed him hard, overjoyed to finally have him back after all this time. Ben returned the kiss just as eagerly, his fingers threading through my hair. “Ow,” he grumbled. I tried to climb off him so that I would stop being the source of his pain, but Ben held me still. “I said ow, not to stop,” he smirked.

Dare I say it, but I had even missed that cocky smirk of his. Rolling my eyes, I gave him another kiss before getting off him and helping him up. Looking him over, he had a few cuts and bruises across his face, and he was doing his best to keep any weight off his left ankle. “What happened?” I asked. “Rey got more help than she hoped for. Sidious won’t be coming back this time…” he trailed off, glancing over at Rey, “but we lost Luke.” My heart sunk at his words and I turned to Rey. Putting aside our differences for the moment, I knelt beside her and hesitantly took Luke’s hand in mine.

It was still warm, which I hadn’t expected. His face looked peaceful, as if he were only sleeping. Tears rolled down my cheeks, as my last words to him hadn’t been the kindest. Yet my words had been enough to potentially influence his decision to finally help his daughter and nephew. Luke Skywalker had died a hero’s death, protecting those he loved.

Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​, @sweetsec-93​​​​​​​​, @cltex84​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​, @neeharlow​

[dalekofchaos]

My critique of the Sequel Trilogy Lightsaber duels

My biggest problems with the Sequel Trilogy are the blatant rip off and unoriginality, no clear plan at all, lore breaking bullshit, lack of worldbuilding and poor executions of great character concepts. In this post, one of my My biggest gripes with the Sequels is the terrible Lightsaber fights.

The only good duel in my opinion is Finn vs Kylo Ren. This feels raw and powerful. A hardened soldier who has just became familiar to Lightsaber combat vs a trained dark side warrior. Despite Ren's years on training, though, Finn puts up a good fight and is able to hold his own before having his back sliced up. But.....that's what kills the fight for me. Finn's injuries. If this were in the first 6 movies or anywhere in the EU, Finn would be in a wheelchair or in a bacta tank for life. And guess what? A movie later and Finn’s injuries are never brought up again or treated with any severity.

Like Finn’s injuries, Finn’s rivalry with Kylo Ren is dropped for no reason whatsoever and never mentioned again. Finn and Kylo Ren are narrative foils, yet after TFA it’s dropped??? From the start they have been prominent foils to each other: dark from light and light from dark, both in the First Order but in drastically different positions. And Kylo too obviously has strong feelings about his defection. I also believe that Finn is the awakening in the force that Kylo and Snoke felt. Perhaps that is why Kylo focused on Finn and is so angry about him. Finn is also the first person to use the legacy lightsaber and is the first to actually fight Kylo. TLJ could've focused on Finn and Kylo being  narrative foils having a force connection and Kylo wondering why Finn would switch to the Resistance while Finn wonders why Kylo joined The First Order and  Rey standing in the middle of it all wondering with the new realization that her family has a mixed past of good and evil and her questioning where exactly does she belong? The way at the height of tfa when Kylo Ren rejected Han Solo’s offer for redemption and killed him he looked over and noticed Finn. Like they both locked eyes and in that moment was a surge of emotions between them— shock (and some fear) on Finn’s end, and anger on Kylo’s as he shouts at Finn that he’s a traitor— and those circumstances set Finn and Kylo up to be the dynamic for the sequel trilogy. They were foils, and the trilogy had the potential to truly expand on that and see their development in a final standoff/rematch at the very end. But it was wasted, because why have good movies.

Rey vs Kylo Ren. This duel was bullshit from start to finish. Okay, I don't care how force sensitive she is. I don't care that she downloaded Kylo's abilities in the interrogation. ANd I don't give a fuck WHO she turned out to be related to. If you are thrown into a tree, you are gonna be out for at least an hour. I will hand it to them that it feels like a genuine fight, but it just feels cheap when Rey won. It also doesn't make it any better that Kylo's injuries doesn't force him to wear the helmet at all times, his facial wounds are non-consequential. Rey has no prior training. Never held a lightsaber. Rey fighting off thieves with her quarterstaff is not the same thing, it is understandable that Kylo was struggling because of his injuries, but Rey didn’t struggle against Kylo. Even Luke struggled with Vader and Anakin struggled with Dooku. What should have happened is as it looks like Kylo is about to win, Chewie from the Falcon fires his bowcaster to keep Ren at bay and both Rey and Finn make it to the Falcon. This way we can keep Kylo Ren strong and show Rey struggling to overcome Kylo. It will also show This is how powerful he is when injured, so imagine him at his peak. Instead we get a pointless fight instead of Rey and Finn just escaping Starkiller base while Ren collapses due to injuries and Rey beating Kylo served no purpose(the end goal to destroy Starkiller Base was already accomplished) and helped derail their villain of the trilogy.

The Throne Room Duel. Everyone knew that Rey and Kylo would kill the Praetorian Guards. This is a fight with absolutely zero stakes. It's one thing if Rey and Kylo dueled Snoke himself, that might be a good fight. But come on, did anyone REALLY think they would lose? There is no tension in the scene and it is pointless. Kylo Ren and Rey are fighting a faceless a group of guards that we know absolutely nothing about and have literally no purpose in the entire story except for this one fight. We know neither of the characters are going to die because these are just faceless red shirts and there is still like 30 to 40 minutes left of the movie. Terrible editing takes away any enjoyment one might have with the fight choreography, if you've got to literally photoshop out the bad guys weapons in post production to not look stupid you might need to recoreograph the shot. There are multiple times where Rey, Kylo and the guards are just doing motions and actions because they look cool but serve no purpose but to look cool. Kylo stabbing the ground? Pointless. Rey twirling her rave stick around while someone falls behind her, pointless. Not even once do we see them displaying their powers is what cheapens the fight. Kylo Ren is powerful enough to freeze a blaster and a person in place and Rey herself unlocked Kylo’s powers, so the two of them could have easily ended the fight sooner than it was dragged out. Kylo is powerful in the force but he SERIOUSLY could not stop a Praetorian Guard choke holding him and Rey struggled with a guard? Rey and Kylo were stronger in TFA and are just made weaker in the duel with the Praetorian Guards. Kylo could have frozen half of the guards and Rey could have mind tricked the other half into killing the frozen guards and Kylo and Rey could have finished them. They are masters of light and darkness, but they are made weaker. The throne room scene is a symbolization of everything wrong with the movie. It’s all flash, but no substance and the more you think about it, the worse it gets.

All this duel makes me believe is that Rey and Ben should’ve both switched sides in TLJ. Rey gives in to the dark side and Ben returns home. Rey is the most Sith like character if you obey the rules of George Lucas for Light and Dark sides of the force. Ben Solo is more Jedi like throughout the movie until the end. Let me explain. Rey throughout the sequel trilogy has given in to her passion and anger. In the end of TFA Rey gave in to anger and hate to defeat Kylo. and in TLJ she is shown to use anger and hate throughout the movie. She is shown to as Yoda put it “take the quick and easy path to the dark side” gives in to anger and hate in almost every scene before she boards the Supremacy and gave in to the temptations of the dark side water cave. Her dark side actions in TROS speak for itself. Ben is calm and clear minded like a Jedi, he even wants to cut all ties to attachments like a Jedi. Everything we were told of the Jedi and how disciplined they are, Ben displays that in TLJ until after the Throne room fight. Hell, EVEN THE THRONE ROOM FIGHT SUGGESTS THIS. Think about the fact that Ben really does not move or even engage. He just stands there and dodges and swings once when the guard rushes him. Contrast that to Rey, who is clearly being more aggressive with her lightsaber and attacking rather than just being passive. How again is Rey the Jedi and Kylo is the dark side force user in this movie? They’re fighting in the exact opposite way they should be. Rey fights for the kill while Kylo gets a glancing blow in the armor in the opening fight. Their style of fighting in the Throne Room with the Praetorian Guards really suggests that they should’ve switched sides. What they should have done is have Ben realize that Snoke was evil and shows regret for his actions and turn to the light. While Rey feeling betrayed by Luke and the revelation of her family turns to the dark. This would not only be unexpected but would even rival Vader’s “I am your father” twist. And it would logically follow what we’ve seen of these two characters leading up to this point. Rather than just out of the blue Kylo turns angry and irrational and Rey is calm when Ben was calm and rational throughout the movie and Rey was full of anger and hate throughout this movie. You have them follow an arc that makes sense for their individual personalities. Ben is always calm, but he felt betrayed by those on the light, but he comes to realize that betrayal was an incorrect perception and he desperately wants to make amends to Luke and Leia and therefore he should rejoin what he knows in his heart is good. While Rey is full of passion and anger and as that builds up and she realizes that even the great Jedi Luke Skywalker is a disappointment and her family abandoned her, she knows the only person who can live up to her own expectations is herself and that self-centered attitude leads her to the dark side. That would make sense and we would have something to fight for, save Rey from herself or stop her.

Luke Skywalker and Kylo Ren. Originally, I thought they were gonna have Luke first send the Walkers’ turboblasts right back at them and use the force to bring down the transports, TIEs and the shuttle and then toy with his nephew like Vader did to him and leave Kylo Ren in defeat and his ruined fleet. In a way he did(minus the ruined fleet), but it took away any tension away by having Luke just be a force projection. He wasn't there. His moment with Leia and 3-PO doesn't feel genuine anymore. And the "duel" if you can call it that is just bad. Luke doesn't have his Green Lightsaber and their blades do not clash. A Jedi is all about defense. But a Jedi will also fight in self-defense to defend others. The argument that Luke did the "most Jedi thing ever" is bullshit. A Jedi will stand up for what's right and face the threat. Instead Luke pulled a practical joke and died pointlessly. I mean if he instead pulled the X-Wing out afterwords and told R2 "Come on R2, we've got work to do." I would forgive that and then we could've gotten a genuine master and apprentice relationship between Luke and Rey and a proper reunion between Luke and Leia. But no, he has to die of force exhaustion. If Palpatine, who uses the force like crack didn't die of force exhaustion, then why did Luke?

The duels in TROS are all equally terrible. Not once did I felt any excitement between Rey and Kylo's duels as I did with Finn and Kylo from TFA. Every Lightsaber duel is forgettable. The fight in Ren's Quarters is just bad. The fight on the Death Star Ruins is just terrible. It's like they both got high on deathsticks and could barley remember that they are both trained with a Lightsaber. Fighting in ruins surrounded by water SHOULD BE EXCITING! But they did everything in their power to make this duel boring, mediocre and lackluster. They act as if they are swinging bats, not Lightsabers. Lightsabers aren’t baseball bats, stop treating them like they are!  

The worst part is that THIS was the final Lightsaber duel of the Star Wars saga. A huge step down if compared to Obi Wan vs Anakin in Mustafar and Darth Vader vs Luke Skywalker in the Emperor’s Throne Room, which unlike the previous prequel, had awesome shooting and use of the soundtrack, also being very lengthy.

Then we get the Luke and Leia flashback. The ONLY well choreographed fight scene is a fucking flashback.

Then Ben Solo and the Knights Of Ren. Again, we know the Knights are gonna die. If JJ Abrams bothered to characterize the Knights, then yes they might've had a chance, but like the Praetorian Guards, they exist for background and die pointlessly.

Of Course we don't get to see Palpatine duel wielding his twin Sith Lightsabers and fighting Rey and Ben, cause JJ mr I hate the Prequels can't give the fans any decent Lightsaber fights. Instead of Palpatine facing Rey and Ben in an epic climatic final battle, we get Palpatine killed by his own lightning.

The fights in TFA is adequate at best. TLJ is meaningless. TROS is absolutely terrible and forgettable.

John, Daisy and Adam deserved better choreography than they were given. There's no excuse for the lackluster duels we see in the ST, whether from Rey, Finn or Kylo.

One of the biggest complaints for the Prequels is Lightsaber fights is "they are too choreographed" and anyone who believes this is an idiot. What? You wanted Jedi in their prime to slap sticks like old people? You wanted them to fight like drunken hobos? One of the best things in the prequels was finally getting to see the Jedi finally go all out in some awesome lightsaber duels. The Jedi should be masters at Lightsaber combat. Fight choreography is a good thing. Look at the duels in the prequels. You can like or hate them but the duel between Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon and Maul was great. As was Obi-Wan vs Jango, Yoda vs Dooku and every duel in ROTS. Even The Clone Wars had great fight choreography. There was more planning and choreography in The Clone Wars S7E10 than in the whole sequel trilogy.

Seriously, why wasn't Nick Gillard contacted? He is the main reason why the Lightsaber duels in the prequels were so good. I don't care if too many Lightsabers were a big complaint amongst the Prequel haters, the duels were good. So instead of great fight scenes, you traded great fight choreography for mediocre baseball bat fights?

The choreography is not the issue alone. There is no emotion. In TFA. Starkiller Base was already set to blow, so the fight was pointless. In TLJ there is no emotion at stake for the Throne Room fight and the Resistance already got away prior to Luke's pointless death. Rey vs Kylo doesn’t even matter because the characters HAVE THE SAME GOAL. Both want to get to Exegol via a wayfinder before the duel and both get to Exegol with a wayfinder (or memory of it) at the end of the duel. While Kylo gets redeemed, the duel wasn’t necessary for this part as Leia just needed to talk to him and then give him the force induced memory. The only thing this proves is that Rey is not a Jedi because she gives into anger and blind rage to start the duel.

The duels in the prequels and originals had themes, emotion and meaning. Not just that but they looked damn impressive and was the spectacle that helped made Star Wars, Star Wars.

There isn't any good musical scores for any of the Lightsaber fights either or at the very least, nothing memorable. Nothing as iconic as Duel Of Fates, Battle Of Heroes and the Throne Room fight in ROTJ. I don't remember any themes in the Sequels and that's a problem.

And it doesn’t help that these duels have no meaningful deaths either. A bunch of faceless guards and Luke (through indirect means) are the only deaths via a duel. But this is what happens when you hide the mentor archetype on an island and have the hero and villain go at it for three films.

The Lightsaber duel is no longer an emotional spectacle and a grand duel to the death. It's a bunch of idiots high on deathsticks fighting pointlessly and fighting for absolutely nothing. Rey fights like a Sith but she's a Jedi. Ben fights like a Jedi but is leading the First Order? They don't matter anymore and the duels in the sequels are the most forgettable thing about them.

[that-sw-writer]

Hi!! I love your writing so much! Could I request the prompt “she/he is not my girl/boyfriend”

Thank you anon!  Hope you like it.

From the 300 follower prompt list: (s)he’s not my girl/boyfriend.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1027

Opposites Attract

Commander Ren was possibly the most infuriating man you had ever dealt with in your whole life.  He always wanted to argue about things, yet somehow you constantly found yourself having to spend time around him.

You had been living aboard Starkiller Base for six months now.  Previously you had been aboard The Supremacy, working directly with Supreme Leader Snoke as the First Order's Supreme Chancellor.  You dealt with all political matters throughout the organisation, and you were undeniably amazing at your job.

However, gaining favour with the Supreme Leader only rubbed his hot-headed apprentice up the wrong way.  You worked closely with General Hux, and the two of your saw eye-to-eye on many things.  The pair of you generally didn't compete for Snoke's approval, but you both did compete with Ren.

Things had been okay for you before you had been posted aboard Starkiller.  You had been in direct contact with Snoke almost daily, and you had coordinated with General Hux over holocomm.  Most importantly: you hadn't had any contact with Kylo Ren.

Now things were entirely different.  You rarely spoke with Snoke, and you were having to constantly work with Kylo Ren.  Whilst you favoured the diplomatic approach to scenarios, he preferred more violent methods, which ultimately had you constantly at odds.

You were meeting with Hux and Ren ahead of a large political function that was to be taking place that very evening.  Both allied and neutral planets would be in attendance.  The aim was to persuade at least another four planets to join the First Order's cause, but with Ren in tow that was bound to be a challenge.  He tended to force, rather than persuade.

"You may not like it Ren, but you need to leave that infernal helmet behind."  You huffed, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time.

"You're right, I don't like it.  I'm wearing it."  He snapped back, his voice sounding synthetic due to the very helmet in question.

"The Supreme Chancellor is right Ren, we're not trying to intimidate these people."  Hux backed you up, unsurprisingly.

"Are we not?  In my experience intimidation brings conformance."  He snorted, and you just rolled your eyes.  Of course his view would be so narrow.

"Did you ever consider that we want the neutral states to join us by choice?  It's simple Ren, you leave the helmet behind, or we leave you behind."  You narrowed your eyes as you threatened him.

Knowing that you weren't bluffing, he simply got up and stormed out of the room, no doubt on his way to tear some of the base to shreds out of frustration.  He truly was an exasperating man.

But what you had never expected was that underneath it all he was a handsome man... You had seen his face for the first time that very evening, and you were almost annoyed that he was so attractive.  It made it harder to hate him, although you didn't let it stop you.

Both Hux and Ren wore their First Order garments, but you had refused a uniform from day one.  They were hideous, you had always preferred to look the part of Supreme Chancellor, opting for lavish gowns - usually in black or red to at least stick slightly to the First Order colour scheme.

The three of you mingled together for a majority of the evening, and thankfully Ren's imposing presence wasn't actually putting people off for once, mostly because nobody recognised him.  They thought he was simply another officer, there to assist you, and you weren't in a hurry to correct them.

You had spent the best part of an hour coaxing the planetary leader from Felucia to join your ranks, and seemingly succeeding.  Hux had interjected occasionally when it came to military capabilities, and Ren had remained completely silent.  You counted your blessings in regard to the latter.

You had noticed Kylo staring at you a lot though, which you found odd.  Perhaps since he had never actually seen you in action before and he was learning that there were methods beyond intimidation to get people to do your bidding.

"I'm exceptionally good at reading people you see, Supreme Chancellor."  The man who was representing Felucia boasted, very proudly.  "You strike me as a woman who knows exactly what she's doing.  I'd feel confident putting my faith in you."

You gave a cordial smile at the compliment, "you honour me, Sir.  I'm thrilled that we've been able to come to an arrangement."

"Yes, welcome to the First Order."  Hux echoed your pleasantries.

Kylo meanwhile remained silent, even when you excused yourself from the conversation to speak to another potential ally, leaving the three men alone.

"Quite a woman."  The Fulician representative commented as you left.

"Yes, she's very talented at what she does."  Hux then agreed.  You commanded the respect of many people, possibly everyone except Ren.

"How long have you two been together?"  The diplomat asked, directing his question at a very stunned Ren.

"W-what?"  He spoke for the first time, Hux stifling laughter from beside him.  "She's not my girlfriend."  He was quick to protest.

The man's brow furrowed, "Oh, my mistake.  It's just I noticed the way you looked at her... such adoration in your eyes, I took it be a relationship of some sort."  Despite being incorrect, the diplomat was possibly better at reading people than anyone gave him credit for.  He had spotted something that Kylo hadn't even known he was doing.

"Well it isn't."  He grumbled, turning away with Hux hot on his heels.

The General briefly apologised for Ren's aloof manners as he followed.

"You know Ren, he may be onto something there."  He couldn't resist teasing his arch-nemesis just a bit.  It was fun to get him riled up.

"He's not."  He immediately snapped in response, but now his gaze was completely focused on you as you effortlessly chatted away and laughed with potential allies.

Sure he thought you were physically attractive, and tonight he had learnt that you were certainly apt at your job.  Not to mention that you held yourself with such poise in every scenario, and he couldn't help but admire the way you could command any conversation.

Kriff, it was a good job nobody could read his mind...

Perhaps, just maybe, that diplomat had been onto something.

[commanderbensolo]

I Don’t Want To Lose You

Here is the fic that I posted recently on my ao3. On my ao3 it was split into two parts, but here it is just one whole oneshot. If you guys have any requests please don’t hesitate to ask. 

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader 

Warning: Some strong language (and by that I mean a few words), mentions of abuse by very minimal 

Y/N stood there in the cockpit, blinking slightly as the harsh blue tones of hyperspace slowed down in front of you until all you could see was the Supremacy in front of you. Turning towards the back of the ship, you walked slowly to where the rooms were situated on board, knowing full well that Kylo had passed out as soon as you entered hyperspace. "Kylo?" You asked softly, knocking on the door so as not to startle him. Not getting a response, you knocked again, a little harder this time, and you heard a groan from within the room. Taking this as a cue to come in, you pressed the button by the side of the door and watched as it slid open with a slight hiss. As you peered inside the room, you noticed that Kylo had discarded his cape, gloves, shirt and boots at the side of the room, and was now lying face down on the bed wearing just trousers. Seeing that he was shirtless, you blushed a little, feeling like you had invaded his private space. I've seen him shirtless before, what's the big deal? You thought to yourself, annoyed that the man in front of you could have such an overwhelming and dizzying effect on you just by taking his shirt off. "Hey, Y/N?" Kylo grunted from being face down into the pillows. You gathered yourself quickly. "Y-yeah?" You said, cursing yourself for stuttering, and hoping he didn't notice. "Your thoughts are terribly loud you know." He looked up at you as he said those words, and you swore you could see a hint of a blush on his cheeks while he smirked at you. You cursed yourself again, this time for letting your mental shields down so he could have a peek inside your mind. You could yourself blushing, and willed yourself to stop, knowing that would give him even more of a reason to look like the cat got the cream. "I actually just came to tell you that we came out of hyperspace like 5 minutes ago, so get prepared for an ass-whipping from Snoke." You said with a smirk, and he rolled his eyes and groaned as he face-planted the bed once more. You heard him say something, but since his face (read here: handsome as hell face) was buried in layers and layers of quilts, you couldn't hear what he said for the life of you. "I'm sorry, what was that?" You say with a smirk, a teasing lilt to your voice knowing full well that it was a complaint of some sort about what Snoke was going to say. " I said..." He replied as he pulled himself upwards with a grunt into a sitting position, "that this is kriff. We succeeded this time, so he literally has nothing to complain about."

"Well, you know Snoke. Apparently something could always be done better. I don't see how Hux can get away with being such an ass with him, to be honest." You hear a chuckle escape his lips, and look at him, raising an eyebrow. "What?" You question, as he stands up and begins to redress. "I think Snoke probably keeps him around and in one piece for entertainment purposes, you know. I mean, the arguments between you two are honestly hilarious." You gasp at him in mock offence and reach up to flick his forehead. "I take offence to that Kylo Ren! You know full well that the arguments are not meant to be funny."

"But they kinda are." You laugh at his words, replaying the many, many spats you've had with Hux in the past and instantly forcing yourself not to escape into peals of laughter. You didn't think either Snoke or Hux would like it if you landed in the hangar bay of the Supremacy and emerged from the Command Shuttle splitting your sides. A series of beeps come through your earpiece that's connecting to the ship's circuits and you turn towards the front of the ship, where the cockpit controls are alerting you that you've reached the Supremacy and that you've landed in the hangar bay. Turning back to see Kylo fully dressed and with his helmet on (possibly just so he could his bed head), you walked towards the side of the ship, where the loading ramp was, Kylo close behind you. Turning to him before the doors open as you land with a slight bump, you grasp his hand in a friendly way, your other hand on your saber at your side. "Ready?" You send through the Force Bond towards him, and you see him nod his head in response. Pressing the button near the ramp, it opened to reveal the usual chaos and turmoil of the hangar bay, a sight which comforted you due to being around it for so long. You both walked down the ramp with long and confident strides, meeting General Hux at the bottom, which was a common occurrence after a mission. Pulling down your hood, you looked at Hux as he disregarded Ren with the usual distaste that he always seemed to carry in his expression. "General Hux, a pleasure to see you." You say with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. Truth to be told, you didn't like this man at all. He was arrogant, aggravating, and always seemed to act like he knew best for everyone in the First Order when you knew for a fact that wasn't true. "Y/N, lovely to see you too. Supreme Leader Snoke requires your presence at 2000 hours, so don't be late." He says with a sneer, and you fight the urge to punch the infuriating man in the face. Sensing your anger, Kylo sent a wave of calming emotions through the Force to you, and as you felt them pass through your body you relaxed, grateful that Kylo was able to restrain you even though he shared the same opinions about Hux. "We won't be late Hux, now go about your day." You hear Kylo say through his modulator, and Hux just turns away and walks through the hangar entry doors, leaving you and Kylo at the bottom of the ramp. "Well, I'm gonna go shower and take a nap, meet you at 2000?" You say through the bond as you two begin walking. "Yes, I'll see you then. Are you going to have dinner beforehand or after?"

"I think I'll have it after, we don't know what Snoke has in store yet. I'd rather not end the night puking my guts up over my quarters because he decided that we weren't good enough, you know?" You feel a shudder of sorts through the bond, and you know that you're both reliving memories of seeing what Snoke put you both through over the years, especially when he had decided in his own warped view that you both had 'failed'. In the last couple of years, you had begun to doubt that he even knew what the word meant and whether he just used the term as an excuse to inflict punishment on you and Kylo instead. "Kylo, I won't let him hurt you, not again. I'm sorry I wasn't there last time."

"It's fine, it wasn't your fault. I was the one who let the scavenger get away." By the time, you've arrived at your quarters, which are just over the hall from Kylo's, and he finally takes his helmet off. "God I hate wearing that thing sometimes, it just gets so stuffy in there." You laugh lightly at his words, inputting your door code into the panel beside it, and turn around to see him doing the same. "Anyway, I'll see you in a bit, I suggest getting some more sleep because we're going to be shattered as kriff after the meeting. You know what he's like." You say with a roll of your eyes at the last part. He rolled his eyes in response with a smirk, mumbling a 'see you in a bit' as he stepped into his quarters. Doing the same, you put your lightsaber down on the coffee table in the middle of the lounge area, hanging up your cloak on your way to the bathroom. Taking your Y/C hair out its braid and shaking your hair loose, you pick out some more comfortable (but still appropriate) clothing and lay it on the bathroom counter before stripping out of your grimy combat clothes and boots and stepping into the hot shower. Turning around to grab your shampoo, you started wondering about what would happen at the meeting. Would Snoke be okay this time? Would he hurt Kylo again? Would he hurt both you and Kylo this time? The thought of Kylo being hurt in front of you made your stomach twist into apprehensive, worrying knots, knowing for a fact that even though Snoke demanded obedience, you wouldn't be able to just kneel there and see Kylo being tortured. Not Kylo, not the man you loved. You caught yourself on that last word, gasping to yourself sharply and muttering a 'fuck' as you knocked your head against the tiled wall. Love? Is it love, or just infatuation? Or am I just attracted to him physically? You cut yourself off during your ramble by scrubbing down your body and turning the shower off quickly, stepping out and drying yourself off with a towel and dressing in the clothes you had laying on the counter. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you quickly threw your wet hair up in a bun, deciding to let it air dry so you could have more time for sleep as you dragged your fatigued body to your bedroom, quickly setting an alarm on your datapad for 7:30 before deciding to face-plant the bed and falling asleep in a matter of seconds, knowing full well that you would be dragged from the sweet world of dreams far too soon.

"Y/N, I'm asking you once, and once only," Kylo said to you as you stood in Snoke's throneroom, the room flickering with fire and sparks every few minutes. His hand was outstretched, and you could see the scavenger girl (Rey, you think her name was, though you had no idea how you knew that) standing to the side, looking at Kylo as though trying to plead with him. "Kylo, what do you want to ask me?" His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as his panted, and you assumed (though you had no recollection) that a fight had just taken place. Looking around, you saw no sign of Snoke's Praetorian Guards clad in their scarlet armour, and when you looked over at the throne, you saw that Snoke's body had been cleaved in two, and was now no longer upon the throne. Instead of feeling horror at such a sight, you felt relief. The days of Snoke torturing and punishing you and Kylo were finally over, and you were finally free to do as you wanted. "Y/N... I want you to join me. We can rule together and bring order to the galaxy!" You looked at the tall, dark man in front of you, and instead of feeling apprehension and fear at his request, you felt joy and excitement. Rule together? Was this his version of admitting you were more than a friend to him? Was this his way of finally, finally, admitting he had feelings for you too? "Please don't do this Ben, please don't go this way." You heard Rey's voice cut through your train of thought, and with the mention of his old name, you made up at your mind. You stepped forward, and place your hand in his outstretched one, whilst your other hand came up to cup his face. "Yes, Kylo Ren, I will join you."  With this, it was a split-second before his lips were crashing into yours, and suddenly you two were engaged into a heated, passionate kiss, bringing your arms up around his neck to grip at his hair whilst his arms found their way around your waist, holding you close to his body as he continued to kiss you. As you broke apart to breathe, you put your foreheads together and looked into his hazel eyes, and finally turning to face Rey, who was looking at you both partially scared and broken. She had been counted upon to bring Kylo back from the Dark side and to return as Ben Solo, and she had failed. "I suggest you start running scavenger if you want a chance of living at all." You say to her and you move into a fighting stance, your hand coming to rest on the saber at your belt. Suddenly, she thrust her hand out, Force-pulling the lightsaber that was in Kylo's hand towards her. Kylo, his reflexes being quicker than his senses, instantly raised his hand as well to bring it back, until the lightsaber stopped in mid-air between them and started to vibrate from the Force that was being exerted on it. Reaching your hand out also, you tried to use the Force to bring it towards you and Kylo, but Rey put in more effort. You sensed that she was untrained fully, having only spent a small amount of time with Luke Skywalker before returning to try and turn Kylo back towards the Light, but despite being untrained, she was undoubtedly strong, and she was being guided by her natural instincts within the Force. You let out a yell with the amount of energy you're exerting, and distantly you hear both Kylo and Rey utter sounds of the same kind until the lightsaber snaps in two and creates an explosion of energy so powerful it knocks you, Kylo and Rey backwards, where you pass out.

Bolting upright from your bed, you realise you're gasping for air and breathing heavily, you're skin covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat. You look at the clock on the far wall and realise it's 1900, an hour from when you have to meet with Snoke. You fall back down on your bed, feeling like you've just fought a battle and breathing heavily. You think back to the dream, and your eyes widen. As you continue to stare at the ceiling, you continue to think only one thought. What the actual fuck was that?

Throwing on her standard cape as well as ankle-high black boots, Y/N pressed a combination onto the control panel of her door to allow her to be let out and across the hall to Kylo's room. Before knocking, she sent a quick "I'm outside, you ready?" to Kylo, and when the grunt of a "Yes" was heard, you took that as an indication to input his code and let yourself in. Since you two were extremely close, you had decided years ago to give each other your room codes, as it was just easier for the both of you to let yourselves in than to wait for the other person to finish what they were doing. Basically, another explanation is that you two were extremely impatient.

Stepping into Kylo's quarters, your eyes are suddenly met with the sight of (yet again) shirtless Kylo. Your eyes grow as wide as dinner plates as you realise that you're also blushing, an act which has become much too common around Kylo in the past year. "Kylo, I swear you're doing this on purpose." You say in a scathing tone as you sit down on the plush leather black couch in the middle of his lounging quarters. Tugging on an undershirt (much to your dismay) as well as his normal padded tunic, you hear him chuckle as you close your eyes. "Doing what, Y/N?" You hear him say with a teasing lilt in his voice. You crack one eye open to shoot him a withering look, but the effect was not the same when you couldn't stop a smirk from creeping its way onto your face. "Never mind, let's just go. It'll be worse if we're late."

You stand up and Force-pull his lightsaber from the counter, throwing it to him before making your way over to where he was standing. "Hello." He says with a smile as he looks down at you. You feel your heart flutter with emotions you can't explain, and on sheer impulse, you wrap your arms around his neck as you stretch to give him a hug. He's surprised for a second, not expecting such an intimate action, but he soon reciprocates it, holding you tightly in his arms, almost as if he's afraid to let you go. "I'm really sorry Kylo." You mumble into his shirt, not minding that his lightsaber is sticking into your stomach harshly or that your toes hurt from standing upon them. "For what, Y/N?" He murmurs softly in your ear, and you can't help the shivers that run down your spine at the sound of his deep voice. "Just... everything. Every time I wasn't there for you. Every time I wasn't there to help you after you were hurt, either on the battlefield or by Snoke. I don't want to have to worry about the fact that I could end up coming back from an assignment and face never being able to see you again." All your words came out in a single breath, a little rushed and hasty, and a deep red glow made its way onto your cheeks. You could feel a soft chuckle vibrate through his chest, and you smiled into his tunic. "Y/N, you're not going to lose me, I promise." You look up into his hazel eyes and find yourself falling even deeper into the hole that you had made for yourself. Retracting your arms from around his neck, you lower yourself down, trying to control the rapid beating of your heart. Walking towards his door, you both enter into the corridor, making your way towards the elevator that would take you to Snoke.

Upon arriving, you put the elevator into emergency stop mode, and feel Kylo grasp your hand tightly. His helmet is currently in his arms, and his eyes were dilated. You could sense that he was nervous, you didn't need a Force connection with him to feel that, it was coming off him in thick waves, and you could tell he was desperately trying to calm down. "Kylo..." you whispered to him as he gripped your hand even tighter. "Kylo, it's going to be fine. I'm here now. I won't let him do anything to you. I promise." He looks at you with dilated pupils and quivering lips, and you grasp his hand firmly in order to calm his nerves, to show him that someone was there for him when he needed it most. And Force, you would always be there for him. "Now, we've gotta see him, unfortunately, so let's just get this meeting over with, and then we can go and crash in my quarters and watch one of those really old holonet cheesy series that you pretend not to love." He laughs at this, a clear sound despite what he was feeling, and you felt his emotions become more balanced and levelled. He squeezed your hand again, but this time it had a meaning behind it as you made the elevator come out of emergency stop mode. This time, it meant 'thank you'.

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Coming to kneel before the throne in the dark red room, you could see why Kylo was scared. Although you had met Snoke many times, he took special attentiveness and observation over Kylo, possibly because he was proven to be stronger with the Force due to his legacy. You could admit honestly that you were thankful for the reduced attention, but it pained you to think that Kylo was subjected to his disapproval and anger more often. That wasn't fair. "My apprentices, you have returned." He says in a slow and meaningful manner, something which was not common for Snoke and made your stomach flip. Something wasn't right here. "Yes, Supreme Leader, we have returned." You say calmly and clearly, lifting your head to look directly at him. "How was the mission?" He asked, yet another question that made you confused. Usually, he would just question whether you succeeded or not, not how it was or what happened. "Very good, Supreme Leader. No complications were met, traitors and other people of the same regard were taken care of, and we succeeded."

"Good, good. This is wonderful news, my apprentices. You have done well." You look up at him again from your kneeling position and murmur a 'thank you' before bowing your head again. "Before I dismiss you, my young apprentices, I have something I must ask of you both." You could feel Kylo let out a ripple of fear through your Force bond, careful to not let Snoke know, and in return, you sent a wave of calming memories towards him. The time you both decided to pilot a TIE Silencer, and you had decided to sit on Kylo's lap so that you could be in the same one. The time where you both were sent on your first mission together after becoming Knights Of Ren and getting drunk and just spending the night on the ship laughing and talking, learning more about each other before finally drifting off to sleep next to each other, firmly becoming best friends, not that you weren't already. You felt him smile, and send another 'thank you' through the Force, to which you responded with just a sense of serenity and peace, something that he needed when in times of turmoil and overwhelming emotions. "Yes, Supreme Leader, what is it?" You hear Kylo's modulated voice speak beside you, confident and clear. "I need you to find the scavenger girl and bring her to me, alive. She could be of great use to us in the future." You stiffen at the mention of her, thinking back to the dream you had experienced a little while ago. Determined not to let Snoke see what you had dreamt about, you put up your mental walls, blocking anyone (apart from Kylo) from seeing anything inside your mind. "Yes, Supreme Leader, we will see to it straight away." You hear Kylo say from beside you, and you're praying to the Maker and the Force that this is nearly over. Because something feels wrong. Something feels tense, and you were not keen to find out. "Very well, my apprentices. You are dismissed. If I gather any more information on this... girl, then I will send for you both at once." You both stand up hastily and walk towards the elevator so quickly you're surprised that Snoke doesn't call you back under suspicion.

Once inside the elevator, with the doors shut, you both breathe a heavy sigh of relief. "Well, that was oddly uneventful. Not that I'm complaining." You say to him, but then you notice something. He's trembling. "Kylo, what's wrong?" He breathes a heavy sigh before tears begin to well up in his eyes, making them sparkle and shine in the elevators harsh white light surrounding you both. "I'm just- FORCE!" He shouts as tears begin to make their way down his face, creating patterns on his pale skin that were both beautiful and heart-breaking. "Kylo, calm down. It's okay. You're okay." You say to him softly, holding him as he begins to sob silently, his head becoming buried in your shoulder. Out of instinct, your hand comes up to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck, and you hear him breathe a sigh and shudder of relief, in knowing that someone was there for him. That he wasn't alone.

"I'm just... I'm terrified." He admitted into your neck, and you become confused. You knew that he had a hard time processing emotions, unfortunately, that's kind of what happened when you had a mother who was more concerned with her job than her son and a father who wasn't able to stay in one place for a long time. But you had never felt this before. This was his emotions being sent into overdrive. "About what? Talk to me, Kylo. Please." You feel him take in a deep breath, and let it out slowly, hot air fanning your skin as he tried to calm down. He brings his head up to look at you directly, and you see something you've never seen before in his eyes, and it scares you because you don't know what it is. "I'm terrified of losing you." He says in a small voice, as though afraid to admit something like this, as though admitting his feelings were going to make a monster or something else that you couldn't bear to be around. "I'm terrified of losing you too. I told you that earlier." You say with a confused frown, knowing for a fact that there was something more beneath that simple phrase. "There's something else isn't there?" You ask him quietly, and you hear his breath hitch. "Don't make me say it, Y/N. Please don't make me say it. I don't want you to think any worse of me." He whispers to you. By this time, you've reached your quarter's floor, and you both step out.

"Right. Let's go to my quarters okay?" Seeing him nod in response, you grasp his arm with your hand and pull him over to your door, where you input the code and allow the door to slide open with a slight hiss. You pull him inside, instructing him to go and sit on the couch while you go freshen up. After locking yourself inside the bathroom, you take a couple of deep breaths before pulling out sleeping shorts and an old black t-shirt, whilst wearing knee-high socks. Pulling your hair of its bun, you brush it out quickly before returning to the lounging area, where Kylo was sat, cape and boots discarded and lay down on the couch with his eyes closed, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You sit down next to him on the couch and take his hand in yours, his eyes fluttering open suddenly as he looks down at your entwined hands. "You wanna tell me what's going on inside that head of yours Ren?" You say to him softly. You feel his hands move to your waist and suddenly lift you up until you're straddling his hips. Blushing at the position, you realize it's so he can sit up and hold you while he talks, something he does when he's in need of comfort. It happens a lot on missions when he's not conked out from pure exhaustion. He closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath, as though steeling his nerves for something that he doesn't want to. "I need to tell you something, Y/N. But I need you to promise me something before I do so." You cock your head to the side, confused at to what he's asking, but nod your head in response. "I need you to promise that after I tell you this, you won't think any worse of me, nor will you leave."

Now, you know that to a lot of other people, saying that kind of thing would make them want to immediately do the opposite, but you know Kylo, and that he's only saying these things as a precaution, because on the inside, behind that terrifying Commander and Master of the Knight of Ren exterior, is a scared man who has seen way too many people abandon him because of who he is and what he's done. You know Kylo, and you would never leave him. No matter what happened. After repeating this sentiment to him, you see his shoulders visibly relax a fraction, though still tense. "I've been... feeling something unusual to me for quite some time, Y/N. It's scary, and I don't know what to do. But I don't want to keep you in the dark about it. You're my best friend, and I don't want to lose you because you felt I was keeping something from you, which I never would unless it was for your own safety. Hence, why I've kept this from you for so long." Taking another deep breath, he continues. "I'm just going to admit it outright because there's no other way I can do it really. Y/N, I think I'm falling in love with you, and I can't stop it. It's scaring me so much because I'm absolutely terrified that you won't feel the same towards me." His words are flooding out now, as though he's afraid that he's going to be stopped from saying them. "I really, really like you, Y/N. Even if you don't feel the same, I just wanted you to know how I feel. I can't keep it a secret anymore, and I refuse to." You realize that you've been holding in a breath since he started his expression of feelings, and you slowly let it out. You feel him tense beneath you, and you know he's thinking that you're going to bolt after what he just said. Grabbing his hands, you pull them around your waist and clasp them together at the small of your back, and your hands make your way around his neck as you bury your face in his neck. You feel him breathe a sigh of relief, and you reciprocate the action.

Lifting to look at him again, you bring your head down until your lips collide in a soft and sensual kiss. There's no effort or intention of deepening the kiss, it's just something that allows you two to feel closer than you ever have before. Pulling away, you say "Was that enough of an answer for you?" He chuckles at that and plants a small peck on your lips again. Bringing your head down to rest in the crook of his neck again, you both manoeuvre yourselves so you're laying down on the couch. You both lay there silently, just holding each other. Because even though there will be a war to fight tomorrow, and enemies to hunt down, and a million other things that could go wrong, you'll have each other. And that's something that you'll forever be grateful for.

Thank you all for reading! If you want to reblog please ask me first and if I say yes please give me credit as this is my own work and it took a lot of effort and time to write. I hope you all enjoyed it and thank you for reading :)

[sithsecrets]

A Matter of Expediency - Part XI

After being married off to Kylo Ren in the name of securing an heir to the First Order’s throne, a princess tries to navigate the ins and outs of married life. As she grows closer to her new husband, the princess also carves out a place for herself in the Order, assuming control over her life when she thought she would have none.

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Part 11

4.5k words

Mentions: pregnancy, swearing, mild sexual content, discussions of past relationships, menstruation

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“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask your husband, hesitantly settling in his lap as he starts up his TIE-fighter, flipping switches and pushing buttons.

“Oh yes,” Kylo assures you, absently pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I would never put your in danger.”

You’re still not convinced, unsure about two people galivanting through space in a one-man vessel, but Kylo’s arm is strong around your waist, his words comforting. And honestly, you’re too excited to really be bothered, thrumming with anticipation at the notion of zooming around the ship with your husband after hours.

Kylo is careful as he guides your ship out of the hangar, exiting the Supremacy with care. But as soon as the two of you are fully out in the inky expanse of space, he punches the accelerator, sending the little craft off at an exhilarating speed. You giggle as Kylo whips you around the ship, squealing when he makes sharp twists and turns with master precision. Hux had told you that your husband was an excellent pilot, but you had no idea what that really meant, accustomed to traveling on casual transport vessels. But Kylo is being anything but casual, telling you to hold on as he executes rolls and loops and other tricks that make your heart jump up in your throat.

Clutching onto your husband tightly, you’re absolutely delighted to realize that he’s enjoying himself too, grinning against the side of your face as he tells you to brace yourself before he does something complex. Stars, he even laughs, the sound of his joy coming from deep in his chest. He loves this, you realize, loves to fly. Your husband, a serious man, a man with little time to himself and so much to do, loves to go out and do the one thing that probably makes him feel truly and supremely free. And what’s better still, he’s decided to share this hobby of his with you.

By the time Kylo lands the TIE back in hangar two, you’re breathless and giddy, flushed with elation from all that’s just happened. As soon as Kylo pops the door open to give the both of you a bit more air, you’re on him in an instant, pressing kisses to his face as you laugh and laugh. He kisses you back, holding you and smiling into your mouth.

“Did you have fun?” Kylo asks, finally peeling you away from him.

“More fun than I’ve ever had in my life!” you exclaim, turning to fall back against his chest with a sigh. Wistfully, you add, “Oh, we should do that every night.”

Your husband settles his arms around your middle, nuzzling into your hair. “If the Empress commands it, then so it shall be.”

You smile at that but say nothing, content to stare out at the stars glittering in the distance before you. Kylo’s got his little craft positioned so that the two of you can gaze out the back of the hangar, safe inside the climate preservers and blastshields. The two of you hold one another for a long while, sitting in comfortable silence until Kylo finally speaks.

“Did you have any lovers before me?” he asks, settling you in his lap.

“I told you the night we wed that you were my first,” you reply, brows drawing together in confusion. You thought the whole thing had been rather unforgettable, but maybe that was because you were the one who wiped a bit of blood from between your legs when all was said and done.

“Well of course,” Kylo says quickly, sensing your disconcertment. “But did you have any other… beloveds? A boyfriend, or just someone who cared for you?”

You shake your head. “No. Mila was very good at turning others against me, and there are many beautiful girls my age in my husband’s court. Everyone passed over me, I think.”

Kylo kisses the top of your head upon hearing this, arms holding your tighter. He hesitates as he goes to speak though, almost as if he’s choosing his words carefully. “Even the women who attended to you?”

You balk at that, caught off-guard by the question. Memories flit through your mind like flashes of light, and for the first time in years, you think of Sabe’s hands, of the way her lips felt on your neck. The two of you had been so young then, barely Helda’s age when you first kissed each other in the dark. It was an innocent little tryst for the most part, two teenagers sneaking into each other’s beds to make out for a couple of hours while everyone else was asleep. There was only one time that something “serious” happened between the two of you, something that was a bit more than simple kissing. You had been so nervous when Sabe opened the front of your nightgown, self-conscious about your body back then. But her mouth was warm and soft and wet as she suckled at your breast, laving her tongue across your nipples in a way that made you sweat. She never touched you, never actually made you cum, but that was the first time you can remember really wanting to have sex with someone. No promises were made, you never courted one another, but you would be lying if you said there wasn’t a bit of puppy love at play all those years ago. Obviously, though, the little fling ended, fizzling out with the heat of the summer months. You thought Sabe had moved on forever and a day ago, but you’ve been rethinking the idea of that since her little post-engagement explosion.

“I see,” Kylo says softly, breaking you from your thoughts. Embarrassment washes over you then, staining your cheeks with crimson— he saw what you were thinking about.

“I don’t miss her,” you say at once, rushing to explain lest your husband mistake your reminiscing for longing or pining. “We were virtual children then, curious and bored and accessible to one other. I just don’t like how we ended our friendship is all. Sabe was very angry when I said I wanted to marry you, even after you offered me a chance to break things off. Myself and my other ladies ended up having a fight with her about it, and it was ugly. She was ugly.”

Kylo gives you a squeeze around the middle, comforting and companionable. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug, mildly upset and completely unaffected all at the same time. The little relationship you had with Sabe is all water under the bridge, old news from years ago that you look back on with fondness. But her cruel comments towards yourself and Lydia have not faded with time, and they still sour your image of her overall.

Tired of thinking about the matter, you shake your head to clear away of images of Sabe, of her mean eyes and her soft mouth. Reaching a hand back to toy with a lock of your husband’s hair, you decide it’s his turn in the hot seat.

“What about you?” you ask, inquiring about his past relationships. “I’m sure you had many beautiful lovers before me.”

Kylo plays it modest, simply saying, “I took women to my bed on occasion, yes, but they were never anyone special.”

You won’t let him get away that easily, though, pressing for details. “Who did you sleep with?”

Once again, your husband is casual, speaking the truth without boasting. “Women I met through diplomatic work, mostly. The parties and the dinners, you know how it is.”

In actuality, you don’t know how it is, but you nod companionably nonetheless. You’re an adult— you understand the basic premise of what he’s saying.

“You never had girlfriends, lovers you saw regularly?”

A shake of the head, and then, “None of them interested me. But I certainly didn’t string anyone along. I watch officers do that to people all the time, and it disgusts me to no end. My intentions were always clear from the outset.”

You admire and respect that sentiment, pleased to hear that your husband never went through a womanizing phase like so many men of station do. And not because he wasn’t desired, either, for you’re sure the women (and men) flung themselves at Kylo back in the day the same way they do now.

Your final question is perhaps your most invasive, but you think Kylo won’t be offended if you ask it. “What was your first time like?”

“When I was twenty-two, Supreme Leader Snoke sent me to negotiate a treaty on Valdera,” Kylo begins. “As you know, the President of Valdera and his Parliament like to partake in quite a bit of… merrymaking when they receive guests. They threw me a feast, and many important officials were there. Nearly all of them were drunk before we even began eating, but I didn’t feel comfortable becoming inebriated amongst strangers.”

You nod, pressing a kiss to your husband’s knuckles to show that you’re listening.

“Anyway, as I was having dinner and trying to ignore all of the foolishness going on around me, I felt as though I was being watched. When I looked down the table, I saw that it was a woman who was staring at me. She was seated in a dignitary’s lap, and I thought at first that she was his wife. But then I noticed that other women had come to the table as well, and I understood at once that she was some sort of concubine. Or a prostitute, maybe. In any case, she was very beautiful, and I could see everything she was picturing in her head as she looked me over.”

“She was fantasizing about you,” you say, and not without a bit of jealously. This woman is long gone, a relic of Kylo’s past, but you still can’t help yourself from being a bit miffed.

Your husband must sense the change in your mood, because he draws you closer to his chest, laughing lightly. “Yes, you possessive little thing, she was.”

Though you’re not ready to be done sulking just yet, you crack a smile nonetheless, unable to stay mad when Kylo’s teasing you and nuzzling his nose against your ear.

“Naturally,” Kylo continues, “I was a bit taken aback, but I didn’t say anything there at the table. A few hours later, I retired to my rooms for the night, and she came knocking not long after. I was unsure of myself, but I let her in anyway. She said she was there to spend the night with me, a gift from the President himself. I told her at once that she wasn’t obligated, that she didn’t have to stay if she wasn’t truly willing, but she was insistent, putting her hands all over me as she told me that she was tired of fucking old men. I warned her that I wouldn’t be much of a partner, given my inexperience, but she said that was no matter.

“She taught me much that night. All of the ways a man can fuck a woman, what to do with my hands and my mouth… She probably enjoyed the sex more than I did that first night, but I tried my best to please her.”

“I’m sure you did just fine,” you tell your husband, unable to fathom him being a bad fuck. “Did you see her again after that?”

“Yes, but only for the remainder of my stay.”

You pause, hesitant to hear the answer to this next question. “… Did you care for her? Or any of the others?”

Kylo says nothing for a moment, rearranging in his lap so that you two may look at one another a bit better. His face is set, expression serious as he cradles your cheek delicately in his palm. “I always treated my partners with respect, but none of them ever meant anything to me, not really.”

For just a moment there, in the chill of the hangar, you feel safe enough to lay bare one of the soft spots on your heart. “Do I mean something to you?” you whisper, too afraid to ask any louder than that.

“You are my wife,” Kylo replies, caressing your skin. You kiss your husband then, heart bursting at this quiet, almost unspoken admission of his love for you.

The two of you retire to bed not long after that, walking hand in hand back to your quarters. Kylo lets you hold him so tightly that night, falling asleep with his face pressed against your chest. You breathe in the scent of his hair as you nod off, warm and content.

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Palgodu is just entering its winter months, the air nipping at your exposed face and ears as you walk up the steps of the royal castle. Snow hasn’t fallen yet, thankfully, but you step lightly anyway, not wanting to graze over an icy patch and go tumbling. Kylo is by your side, of course, shrouded in a black as per usual. He keeps you close, probably trying to warm you up himself even though you’re draped in furs and thick fabrics. The two of your take in the great castle before you together, noting the fine stonework and carpentry. It’s a sturdy building, built no doubt to keep warmth in and invaders out. Guards are lined up all along the front of the place, armed to the teeth. They may be there for you and Kylo’s benefit, a welcoming party of sorts, but you doubt it. If your planet just ended a civil war, you’d keep yourself covered on all sides as well.

King Eli awaits you and Kylo as soon as you enter the castle, grinning broadly as he welcomes the both of you to his home. The first thing you notice about the King is his size, for he is tall and wide, made exclusively of thick slabs of muscle. He would be imposing with his full beard and beastly hands, you think, if his demeanor were not so warm.

You and Kylo amble through a corridor just off the castle’s entrance hall, following in the King’s wake. You pass many tapestries along the way, precious pieces of handiwork that seem to depict the history of Palgodu. They turn your head, these works of art, and you find yourself studying them intently until you’re shown into a small receiving room at the end of the hall.

The first thing you feel when you lay eyes on the Queen Eleanor is envy. Before she even so much as speaks, you’re plagued with it, the jealousy you feel so white-hot in your veins that you’re afraid your skin will glow from the heat. She is heavy with child, the Queen, her stomach round and swollen underneath the skirt of her gown. To make matters worse, the bundle of blankets that she clutches to her chest is squirming, confirming that she already has a little one out here in the world as well. And then a young girl dashes out from the corner of the room, giggling as she evades being picked up by her nurse, and you feel as though you might actually burst into tears.

It’s idiotic, you know, to be jealous of a woman simply because she has children, but you can’t help the way your mind rages at the sight of Queen Eleanor and all the bounty of her womb. She has so much of what you want, so much of what you’re worried you’ll never be able to have. Still, it’s impossible to hate her for long— the Queen, like her husband, is just far too kind.

She welcomes you with open arms, beaming as she declares that she feels as if the both of you already know each other. And you sort of do, you suppose, given how much you’ve communicated these past few weeks. Like you, Queen Eleanor handles her regime’s charitable efforts, and you’ve spoken at length over comm about donations and food and a myriad of other subjects. She’s practical and a bit headstrong, passionate about protecting those who rely on her and her husband for help.

“I apologize for not meeting you right when you arrived,” Eleanor says to you. “The baby needed to eat, and Maudie is always so restless when she’s forced to stand still.”

Finally, you snap out of you sad little trance, remembering where you are and what you’re doing. “Oh please, don’t be sorry,” you reply, waving her off with a gesture and a sweet little laugh.

Though your feeling of envy pass quickly, the sudden burst of intense emotion does leave you feeling disoriented. The rest of the afternoon is mostly a blur, and you barely feel like you’re there as you and Kylo dress for dinner. You must put up a good front though, because neither Miriam nor Kylo says anything as about your demeanor as they interact with you.

Dinner consists of a large feast, and you’re grateful for the crowd around the table. There’s much talking and laughing, and you’re able to shrink back into the noise, more content with observing rather than participating tonight. You do feel a bit better though, fortified by your warm meal and a few sips of wine. And of course, Queen Eleanor continues to be a lovely friend, trying to rope you into conversations regarding the upcoming charity gala that the two of you have worked so hard on.

Just as you’re digging into your dessert, however, you feel it, that round, aching pain that most women know all too well. Your good mood evaporates immediately, overtaken by an empty sort of melancholy that’s even more painful than the cramping in your abdomen. Keenly aware of your audience (and the fact that you’re wearing black), you try desperately not to let your emotions show on your face. And stars does that take all you have, the task made even more arduous by the fact that your husband sits beside you. You don’t want him to perceive the shift in your mood, so you must guard your thoughts more closely than ever before.

Mercifully, your mask never slips, your defenses do not fail, and you’re able to excuse yourself from the table with ease. In a surprising turn of events, Kylo actually accepts King Eli’s invitation to play cards, and watching your husband walk away from you is perhaps the biggest relief of all in this moment.

The walk back to your chambers is relatively short, but your limbs are so heavy as you make the journey. Miriam is there waiting for you, but you have no heart to perform for her, stumbling into the ‘fresher with little more than a weary ‘hello’. When you check , your underwear are stained, just as you suspected. And though you already knew what happened the moment you felt your stomach cramp up at the table, this confirmation of your worst fear makes you breakdown completely.

Cleaning yourself up sloppily, you leave the ‘fresher with tears in your eyes, startled to find Miriam there in the doorway when you try to go back to the bedroom. She’s poised to get you whatever you may need, mouth already forming the words, “What can I do for you?” when the two of you lock eyes. You don’t know why you do it, but you collapse into Miriam’s arms right there, offering no explanation for your actions as you dissolve into sobs.

“What’s the matter?” you attendant asks quickly, supporting your weight as you sag against her. Miriam’s hands are on your back, in your hair, rubbing and petting and trying in vain to soothe you.

You draw back from Miriam’s chest, hiccupping pathetically. “I started my period,” you tell her, and the fact that you sound like a distraught twelve-year-old girl is not lost on you in the moment.

Miriam looks confused for a moment, asking, “Did you—?” But then her face dissolves into a look of sympathetic understanding, and she puts her arms around you again. “Oh. Oh, my lady.”

You beg for a bath, unable to do anything else as your attendant holds you close. Miriam does as you ask, letting the hot water run as she unlaces your gown and lets down your hair. Trying to be useful, you take off your jewelry on your own, but even this small task feels insurmountable in the midst of your breakdown.

The heat of your bathwater feels like a warm hug against your skin, but not even this serves to soothe your aching heart. Drawing your knees up to your chest, you curl in on yourself, choking on your own tears and sniffles. Miriam allows you to have a moment, sitting patiently by the bathtub as you settle yourself. Finally, she speaks.

“What’s the matter?” she asks softly, reaching out to stroke your hair again. You don’t brush her off, though your tone is less than charitable.

“I already told you,” you reply curtly, hugging your legs closer.

Miriam maintains her composure, speaking gently. “I know. But I have a feeling that this is about something more than a bit of blood in your underwear, Empress.”

Swallowing thickly, you contemplate whether or not you want to get into all of this right now. But Miriam is your only resource, really, the only older woman in your life that may be able to offer you a bit of advice.

“I just want to be pregnant,” you finally croak, voice raw from crying for so long. Miriam sighs at that, nodding solemnly.

“I know, my lady,” she says companionably, still carding her fingers through your hair. “Has the Supreme Leader said something to you? Gotten angry or expressed his dissatisfaction?”

“No,” you say quickly, moving to sit up now. Your head pounds, clogged with congestion from all your crying. “It’s… it’s the Queen.”

Miriam starts at that, eyes ablaze, her tone indignant. “Queen Eleanor said something to you?”

You can’t help but laugh then, touched by your attendant’s defense of you. “No,” you say, any joy you experienced just now dissipating. “She’s a lovely person, it’s just… It’s just her children. She has so many, and I—”

“And you have none,” Miriam cuts softly, finishing your sentence for you. You nod, chewing on your bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“I just don’t understand it,” you declare, utterly bewildered. Miriam lathers up a rag, washing your body as she listens to you talk. “Kylo and I have sex nearly every night it feels like. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!”

“It’s not about what you’re doing,” Miriam soothes, rinsing you with her hands. “Sometimes these things just take time, that’s all.”

You throw a look Miriam’s way, eyebrows raised. “It only takes once.”

Miriam laughs a bit at that, nodding. “Yes,” she concedes, “technically once is enough. But that’s not the case for everyone.”

That makes you sigh, mostly because you know she’s right. Still, you can’t help but feel betrayed by your body, by your womb.

“Have I ever told you about the first woman I ever served?” Miriam asks, redirecting your attention away from your thoughts.

“No.”

“She was a senator’s wife,” your attendant begins, pouring shampoo into her hand now, “and she was desperate to get pregnant from the moment she got married. Like you, though, it didn’t happen for her right away, and she became rather upset. She began doing anything she could to conceive after a few months, drinking these disgusting teas, standing on her head after she and her husband had sex— just all sorts of nonsense. But after a year, she still had no child. Doctors assured her that she wasn’t barren, but of course she thought otherwise.

“After a lot of crying and wasting away in her bed, my mistress decided to just put the whole thing out of her mind. It destroyed her to do so, but she decided that perhaps she wasn’t supposed to be a mother. But do you know what happened after she quit fixating on the idea of getting pregnant?”

“She got pregnant,” you answer, already seeing where Miriam’s going with this story. She nods, confirming that you’re correct.

“That’s right. She went on to have another three children after she had that first baby, and they were all healthy and beautiful.” Miriam hooks her fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at her. “The same way yours will be. But you must relax, Empress. If you fester in this desire to bear a child, the stress will prevent you from getting the very thing you want so badly.”

You want to argue, to say that you aren’t working yourself up into a frenzy about having a baby, but that’s simply not the truth. You think of conceiving each and every time you and Kylo make love, you pray and yearn and hope as you as you wash him off your body. You even dream of it sometimes, giving birth, and not all of the things you see in your head are pleasant.

“Just enjoy being with your husband,” Miriam advises, almost as if she can read your mind. “If you relax and allow yourself to let go when the two of you make love, a baby will come quickly. I promise.”

You desperately want to believe you attendant, but your own anxiety forces you to remain unconvinced. Still, you’re grateful for the reassurance, figuring that everything will be brighter in the morning.

Kylo comes back from his card game not an hour after you get out of the tub, kissing you soundly as he grumbles about drunken aristocrat and a particularly poor hand that came his way during the event. You almost tell him about your little episode but ultimately refrain from doing so, figuring that it’s not worth the trouble. Still, your husband is intuitive as ever, asking you if everything’s all right as the two of you retire to bed.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” you tell him, more than happy to snuggle down under his arm.

Kylo doesn’t press the matter, though you’re not sure he believes you. But he holds you close anyway, shielding you from the chill of the room.

That night, you dream that you’re running all through the Supremacy, chasing after a small child that giggles and squeals as they continuously evade your grasp. It’s frustrating, for they always seem to be just ahead of you, just around the corner or already running down the next hall over.

Just as you get close enough to grab the back of the child’s shirt, you wake up.

[thetorturerwrites]

Puer Deus: Reputation

This amazing artwork was gifted to me by @faestae-writes​. Please do not re-use or re-post it without permission from them and/or myself. Don’t be a dickbag.

***

Captured / Hurricane / Sustenance / Liar / Scars / Proof / Strings

Summary:  All manner of trouble

A/N:  18+ only.  Physical violence; sadism; references to abuse; smut

Word Count: 4.5k

Day Eight

You were back in Ren’s room for all of five minutes when the cycle shifted from day to night.  You’d lost an entire day to his diabolical plans, and you were exhausted to the bone. Hux had chided you about your nearly-crawling pace, and you’d contemplated stabbing him right there in the hall; but finally, you slumped across the threshold into what your heart kicked up as “home.”

Tension and disgust kept you from crawling into the bed. You knew your brain would loop this day, searing the way he’d looked at you into the gray matter until you wore a constant mask of mottled need.  You sunk down in the very center of the room, huddled in on yourself, and stared at the imbrued floor. You were beyond pain and tears, mired in this quagmire of hate and hunger.

He had humiliated you, wholly stripped you of all humanity and personhood.  And you had all but begged him for more. 

Under his sheer dehumanization, your body had been charged, technicolor and dynamic.  Ren had systematically consumed every part of you, continuously conjuring up new ways to crucify you to feed his black need.  And at every turn, you had given him the anguish he craved; you had yet to deny him exactly what he wanted.

Would you ever be able to deny him?

Pressing the heels of your hands into weary eye sockets, you leaned forward over crossed legs, bent in half from the burden of your inner war. You weren’t sure you could live with the creature he was unearthing, but you weren’t sure you could live without the feelings he evoked, without him.

Moments later, Ren stepped through the door, flushed red and heaving.  His eyes were furious and frantic, and you scrambled away, putting distance between you and the raving lunatic he looked to be.  

“Supreme Leader,” Hux’s voice crackled through the commlink. “The rebels have launched an attack, Sir.  The Supremacy has been compromised. We have lost the starboard side entirely.”

Ren’s gaze settled upon you and darkened immeasurably.  Teeth gnashing and erupting with a snarl, he crossed the room in three strides and hauled you into his arms. The warmth that had been building in your heart evaporated, escaping through your lungs on stuttered breath. 

You cried out and turned your gaze to the floor, the heat of his breath scorching your red cheek. You knew there was no placating him like this.  This was the Kylo Ren who would beat you for insolence, batter your body for daring to patronize him with any hint of gentle persuasion.

“Get command to the Steadfast,” he replied through his commlink. “I will be at the Night Buzzard and will rendez-vous with you there.”

Angry digits dug into your upper arms so fiercely you could feel your pulse hammering in your fingertips.  He had you lifted so high your toes barely scraped the dirty floor, and you clung to his shoulders, trying not to hang like a limp doll.

You could feel it, the accusation rolling off of him like steam, causing the very air around you to fluctuate and waver.  When had you come to know the different shades of his rage? You shook your head wildly because whatever he was about to say, you certainly hadn’t been able to do it.

“Yes, you fucking did.”

He was nose-to-nose, and his absolute disdain for you was crushing.  After everything you’d suffered at his hands, everything you’d endured for him, he still hated you, still regarded you as an object to be used and crushed, and it sucked the light from your soul.

“I don’t have time for your nonsense.”

He passed his quaking hand over your face, stretched his great power into your cerebellum, and forced you into the inky void.

You dreamed of vast, blue skies and the sunlight on your face.  It was bright and crisp and vibrant. You turned into the wind and inhaled the deep, clean, briskness of it, feeling the wispy tendrils curl around your neck and shoulders.  You stretched up into the warmth, feeling the ache in your bones and joints ease, the tightness in your neck and back loosen, and the constriction of your ribs and lungs lessen under the blissful perfection of nature.

You lifted your face into a smattering of afternoon clouds, feeling free and weightless. No more walls. No more silent vacuum of space.  No more blinding, false light. This was life without Santcha, without your Master, without Ren. It was open and lustrous and beautiful.

And it wasn’t real.

As your senses came back into alignment, you smelled rust-tinged air mixing with the heavy remnants of oil and grease.  Instead of balmy sunlight, you felt only cold, recycled, stagnant output regulating the temperature. Curling fingers into the rough sheets where you’d dreamed freedom had been, you buried your face into the pillow and wept.

You weren’t free.  The universe had simply wrenched you from one sphere of suffering and delivered you to another. The only difference was that Ren made you respond in ways you never thought possible.  He was unique in his ability to make you want to suffer. But you were still his captive, his property, and he would never let you go.

“Quiet now,” the dulcet tone of his voice drew you further awake. “Sit up.”

You didn’t want to open your eyes upon this palpable, metal hell, but you complied, shifting so that you were facing him as he crouched at the foot of the dismal bed. You recognized the pattern playing out and didn’t object when he pushed a warm cup into your hands.  

He’d brutalized you yesterday; today, he would put you back together, mend the madness he'd rained upon you. 

“Your weapon,” he urged, turning his palm up to your lips.

Silent, you reached down to your thigh and the last swatch of surgical tape on your body.  Peeling the corner away, you uncovered the little scalpel blade hidden snug against the puckered skin.  You weren’t stupid enough to sleep with it in your mouth, but you hadn’t had any time to actually sleep before he burst in.

Ren huffed on an entertained smirk and tossed the blade away, reaching down to peel off that last strip of tape.  Over the last 2 days, you’d been discarding remnants as they frayed, but he’d been too busy dismantling you to notice.  

Your mostly-healed scars still looked fresh and bright, and he slid his fingers over the largest tracks, eyes lingering on the raised edges.

Ignoring the way he studied you and the gooseflesh his grazes produced, you sniffed the warm liquid questioningly.  You knew better than to object and swallowed down the soup, your upper lip curling at the stale, bland taste. When you finished one, he pushed a second into your hands, followed by a large cup of water. You hadn’t had solid food in two days, and he seemed to recall the doctor’s order that you not have it for at least 24 hours.

He didn’t speak, and the distorted closeness felt awkward, wrong.  He was doting on you like a partner, but you recalled the utter hatred he leveled at you earlier and the deep well of longing in your heart for the sunlight in your dreams.  Brow furrowed, you pushed his hands away and leaned out of his reach, preferring to brood alone.

Having never cared for what you wanted, Ren ignored the pained look on your face, discarded his light trousers, and sunk into the small mattress.  You were immediately crowded by his commanding frame and, unnerved, moved to escape his purview.

Too near his imposing incandescence, you would certainly burst aflame and beg for his touch.

You weren’t quick enough, however; and he slid a rigid arm around your middle, tugged you up into his lap, and mouthed at your jaw.  Fortified and fed, you tensed and worked to twist out of his control.

If he wanted to hate you, you wouldn’t argue, but you wouldn’t pretend to be his docile, doting slave.

“Time to be useful, puppet.”

His hold tightened at your curse and subsequent squirming, and you scratched at his arm, trying to contort your body into some strange shape that would jar his grip loose so you could crawl away.  You’d never felt so worthless in his captivity as being reduced to “useful.”

Ren pulled you back into the hard pillar of his chest, biting into your shoulder until you yelped and stopped fighting.  He was solid and strong, uncompromising and exacting, and you wondered when his unhinged demands started to feel safe. He brushed his nose into your hair, lips right at the shell of your ear, and he melted your resolve with that sensual inflection.

“You can sit; or, you can swallow, but I’m going to be inside you.”

His vulgar words set your core to clenching, and the idea of him burying himself into your body again socked you in the gut.  You yearned for that version of him, vibrant with the pleasure he found in you, and the satisfaction you’d seen in his features for just a moment. You ached for that feeling when you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began, when pain and pleasure bled together.

You told yourself that you didn’t want to be that person, that whore, for him.  You wanted your autonomy, to make your own decisions and to live a free life away from ruthless men.  

He held you, stroking your stomach and dipping his finger into your belly button, while he waited, listening as your struggle unfolded.

You sagged against him, eyes closing in resignation.  Your body and your brain wanted very different things.

Forcing your jaw to relax, you shifted onto your knees and turned to face the demanding deity who now invaded your every waking moment.  You let your eyes roam his perfect arms, abs, hips, thighs, cock, trying to decide which part of yourself to sacrifice. 

If you gave him your face, maybe he’d blow out the bastard vocoder, and you’d drift back into blessed silence.  But if you gave him your pussy, he would definitely demolish any resistance lingering in your brain.

He reached for you, intent upon ending the debate, but you brushed his hand away and moved to kneel between his legs. You forced yourself to meet his dark, eager eyes, blatantly ignoring his standing, straining, far-too-pretty cock.

Raising an eyebrow, you nudged his knees apart wider by spreading your own and relished the quick intake of his breath.  You told yourself it was because you needed the balance, he needed to know how it fucking felt, and you needed him to not kick you or asphyxiate you with his thighs.

A satisfied rumble descended from on high as you bent forward, pressing your nose and lips into his bruised thigh, and you knew that the curve of your ass was the highest point of your body in this position.  

You inhaled the musky aroma of his skin and hummed against the fuzzy patch of hair.  Your eyes danced behind closed lids as you remembered the soft, colored flesh in your mouth and the way he’d looked down at you, ravenous himself and pleased with your hunger. Your hips loosened and your pussy warmed, readying to accept him.

Something started to tingle inside your belly, and you angrily shook it away. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. 

You were waiting for him to thread demanding fingers into your hair, to lift your face and force you down onto his weeping dick, to take away your complicity in this act.  If he took it from you, as he had been doing for days, you could pretend that you didn’t want this.

But none of those things happened. He was silent and still, and you glanced up at him, irritated and troubled and uncertain.

“You’ve caused all manner of trouble, puppet." 

His voice was smooth, and he tapped your lower lip on every single word.  

“Show me you’re sorry.”

You snorted, anger suffusing your nose, ears, cheeks.  Shot up onto your knees, you completely abandoned what he’d instructed you to do because you had done no such fucking thing.  You’d spent mere moments in his room on the Supremacy; and, then, you’d been in this hole, right here, unconscious for what was likely hours. 

“When, exactly, did I have time to cause trouble?”

You practically shouted it, and the smug grin that played at the corners of his mouth only enraged you further.  He didn’t move to quash your tirade, though, and you jabbed a finger at him, losing your composure entirely at his amusement. 

You knew his condescension stemmed from the sound of your voice, modulated, just the right pitch, and fully on display.

“I’ve been here, blacked out by your own fucking hand.  Before that, I was pinned down to a surgical table while you had your blasted doctor force things into my body.”  

You jumped off the bed entirely, standing alongside his crooked, relaxed knee and positively fuming at the calm, arrogant look on his beautiful, infuriating face.

“And before that, I was unconscious because you slit me open from chin to toes.  So, Commander,” you spit the word out as though it was poison, “when have I made all of this trouble? Or would you like me to go back farther than the last three fucking days?”

Ren sat up slowly, and the absolute animosity in his eyes pushed you a step back, your ire faltering.  He slid from the bed, unfurling like a great, storied behemoth, and stalked forward at you. You held out a hand, but you didn’t know if it was to stop him or to touch him.

Unclothed, he looked even more deadly as there was no fabric, no weapon to draw away your stare, and every rippling, taut muscle was an exhibit in transcendence.  

He was what men aspired to be, godlike and mesmerizing.

If he killed you now, it would be the pinnacle of intimacy with nothing between his raw aggression and your abject fear. He would press his naked form against you and surely end your life by sucking the very marrow from your bones.

He was every inch the infernal predator, and you were the prey that just pissed him off. 

“Yesterday,” he sneered, “You threatened to murder Supreme Leader Snoke.”

Your mouth dried out completely, snapping shut with a clatter because you couldn’t argue.  In your rage and fright, you had absolutely threatened to murder Snoke and everyone on board the ship, and it was clear from Ren’s response that Snoke had heard you.  

Terror flooded your veins, pushed out all the blood that was supposed to be there and replaced it with adrenaline.  Your mind screamed at you to run, now, get away, but your body could only slink further back into the room, sweating and twitching.

“Before that,” he reached out, wrapped his giant hand around your throat, and drew you in close, tightening his ritual noose until you gulped and wheezed, “You wounded me in battle.”

You could feel the delicate bones bowing to his snapping grip, and you clawed at his arm.  Surely, Ren’s patience had run out. You had done all of those things and more.  

Just today, you had denied him the feel of your mouth, your body, and you shouted at him, challenged him, in front of the Knights of Ren, his troupe.  Animosity had so clouded your judgment that you’d shucked off every bit of common sense and self-preservation.

You could not possibly be more stupid.

“Shall I go back farther than the last three fucking days, puppet?”

You paled, remembering that he’d caught you trying to escape the day before that, and shook your head in defeat.  His fingernails cut into the tender flesh of your neck, and you whimpered, standing onto your toes in a vain attempt to lessen his grip.  Your lips drew into a tight line, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to whatever punishment he would inflict.

Maybe you did deserve it.

Ren shoved you away, and you collapsed into a pitiable heap on the dirty floor.  Tears sprang to your eyes because the internal conflict was never going to end. You were flooded with shame that he was disappointed in you and fuming that you fucking cared to begin with.  This contention inside your own body was becoming unbearable, and you were so incredibly tired. 

It was all too much.

Snoke surely wanted your head, and Ren would have no choice but to deliver you to the slaughter.  Just days ago, you had been ready to die, but that had been for Ren, not Snoke. Your lips would hardly work, the emotion bubbling over and shunting your idiotic bravery.

Kylo, I can’t do this anymore….

He looked down at you, eyes dark and haunted; and even though you knew he was incapable of feeling or compassion, you lifted pleading eyes to his.  There truly was no going back, and the way forward had just been shut to you. Snoke would hunt you. He would send the Knights of Ren, and their Master, to hunt you.

You only needed a day's headstart.  Just long enough to find a tall cliff or a blaster.

Could you convince him? 

“Please, Kylo,” your voice quaked, “Please, let me go.  Or make all of this go away.”

But what you were begging for was for him to make you go away.  To end this seemingly ceaseless back-and-forth between acceptance and survival. Your torso punched low to the ground, and you erupted into broken, wretched sobs.

“I just can’t.”  You whispered as he crouched down silently and lifted your face.  You shook your head from his touch. 

“This isn’t me,” you rallied and shouted, “You’ve taken everything! There isn’t anything else. Just let me go. Let me go or kill me.”

There was something else, another possibility dancing just beyond your trepidation.  You knew that he saw it, but you still weren’t ready to take that leap, to let the beast out of the mirror and allow her to consume you, to burn away the parts of you that weren’t his.  

Ren’s strong arms gathered you up, caging your shuddering sorrow and caressing your neck while you cried.  He smoothed down your hair and rubbed the length of your back, murmuring into your pulse that you needed to take a breath and then another and then one more.

His very demeanor was disarming, and you felt the fight ebbing out of every single pore. Resenting the ease with which he placated you, you clenched your fists again and batted at his chest, shifting and pulling away.  Lifting puffy, red eyes, you glared at him, willing there to be more malice in your gaze than there was in your heart.

“No,” your voice was all harsh edges and angst.  “You don’t get to be nice now.” 

You twisted in his arms, kicking at his shins, but he only held you tighter, his arms a vice around your middle.  You sniffled and sobbed and tried to not let your anger die away. You needed it now more than you needed to breathe.  It was the only thing that was yours, the only thing you had left.

“You’re not capable of being nice.  You’re a monster.”

Ren dipped his face to yours and traced the curve of your chin with his lips. When you abandoned your bitter tirade, he slid long fingers up the column of your throat and squeezed, the way you’d asked him to yesterday.  He turned your face so you had to look up at him with your shining, crestfallen eyes.

“Dammit, Kylo,” your lips trembled, the false voice he'd given you cracking with feeling, “I need you to be a monster.”

“Stop,” Ren shushed you, lifting his hand to your mouth and sliding his thumb in to hook at your teeth.  

The gesture, unique to you and he in all the Galaxy, silenced you, and he held tight to your throat as though to punctuate the notion that, in this moment, there was only you and him. 

You sniffled and pushed against his broad shoulders, but he didn’t chastise you further. He tugged you in by the jaw and nudged his nose through your tears.

“The Supreme Leader isn’t coming for you,” he crooned against your temple, "I killed him for daring to take what is mine." 

Your whole body went rigid at his admission, and you blinked, too shocked to speak. He stroked your hip soothingly, but you felt strung too tight. This knowledge should have eased you, but something was settling in your mind that you hadn’t considered before.  

Kylo Ren would never let you go.

Because he couldn’t.

“I will not make this go away,” he cupped your cheek and dipped his face down to press a kiss to the thumping heartbeat under his thumb. “You were made to suffer for me."

You sucked in a pained breath, caught between a gasp and a sob.  The kernel of realization was spreading, growing by the second, and you were drowning, keening, lost to the implications of it. It raised your panic and your longing at the same time and shot through your body like lightning. 

"You want me to break you, puppet."

He clutched at your back, obscuring all the world around him and folding you into his darkness. 

"Almost as much as I want to break you." 

There it was.

Ren came alive when he was hurting you. He spread out into the universe like it was meant for him, just waiting for him to conquer the very stars.  But only when you were bleeding and crying at his feet.  

This was not the same man you first met a week ago. Gone was the unconquerable rage and tantrum, the explosion of too much turmoil. Gone, too, was the leash that held Ren's potential in check.

The man before you was calculatingly cruel with clear intent. His viciousness was purposeful, and he existed without boundaries, without limitations. He had entirely cast off all inhibition and conscience.

Kylo Ren was now the most skilled, destructive, horrible weapon in the Galaxy. 

And you were his whetstone. 

“The next time I hurt you,” he licked at your earlobe and whispered, “It will be because you begged me for it."

The gavel crashed down, and all you could hear was the rushing of your blood.  He’d cemented it, practically carved it into your skin.  

He would chase you into oblivion because you were the only thing that made him feel alive. This whirlwind of terror and feeling you existed in together was the only thing that ignited fire in him.

And you would let him.

You would worship your Child God in any and every bloody way he wanted because he was the only thing that made you feel alive.

It was only a matter of time.

You dissolved into tears all over again, collapsing against all of his unyielding and letting him wrap you up into that otherworldly embrace.  He tucked you against his heart, rocking you from side to side and soothing you with his steady pulse. He pressed his lips into your temple and murmured there that you were so pretty when you cried.

You couldn’t stop the sobbing now for anything, so complete was your heartbreak. 

You mourned blue and purple skies, pink-tinted sunrises, and twinkling sunsets; rushing, clean water and a rainbow of flowers; the frenetic disarray of the workshop and the tools you had been collecting for years that you would never see again. You lamented that you would likely never again be able to set yourself to a task, to fixing a broken thing, and see it finished and made whole.

You would only ever be the broken thing.

Most of all, you grieved for yourself. Because you knew that you would relent.  You would give him what he wanted because the part of you straining to belong to him was expanding by the hour.  Soon, she would be strong enough, and your freedom would be gone. You would let him defile you day after day.

“You will ask me,” he instructed, tipping your face up to taste your tears on a kiss, “and I will drown you in the clearest water I can find.”

You whimpered against his mouth and curled fingers into his dark tresses. He chased the sound away with a nip to your lower lip, licking at the quiver. He purred at you like a lover, and you wondered if this was pillowtalk for a man whose base language was violence.

“I will make you bleed on forest floors, and I will listen to your screams echo off of mountains.”

His warm breath mingled with yours, lips barely touching, as he coaxed the tip of your tongue up to touch his before canting your head to one side and kissing you so deep you forgot to breathe. He licked at your teeth and sucked on your tongue.

“And I will fuck you so hard the only name you remember is mine,” his voice was lower, all gravel and demand and lust. 

“You just have to ask me, puppet.”

Teeming with uneasy arousal, your body flushed in response to his words, to the conviction with which he said them. You lifted onto your toes to better receive his kisses, and he hummed in satisfaction against your mouth.  

It was as though he had promised you moonlight, paradise, babies, and your heart responded to each threat as though they were professions of love. He knew your fears and was trying to assuage them, to paint you a pretty picture so you would give in to him. 

You knew this wasn’t love.  Neither of you were capable of such a fanciful notion.  This was obsession, and it would likely be just as fleeting. But it would be absolute.

“Stop crying,” he said into your neck, molding the length of your body to his.

Ren slid your limbs around his body in that familiar way, and you squeezed at his sides when he lifted you. You buried your face into his neck, shaking silently and trying to obey, to get yourself collected.  

The war inside of you wasn’t over, and you hadn’t gained any ground today.  But you understood the battlefield better than you ever had before.

Crawling into the little bed with you, he shifted you so that you were lying beside him, your tight, anxious back pressed into his calm, steady torso. He slid an arm around your rib cage, tucked his hot hand in at your breast, and snuggled his erection between your buttocks.

You clutched at his arm, sniffling and fighting adrenaline tremors. 

Ren nuzzled the back of your neck, and you marveled at how today was so much different than yesterday.  You’d just begged this man, this monster, to end your life, to rise up to his reputation. Instead, he had weaponized kindness and thrown you entirely off kilter, to the point where you were entertaining his offers to persecute you throughout the Galaxy.

“Sleep,” he commanded, his voice almost gentle. “We’ll be there by morning.”

[starlightsearches]

Office Romance: Ch. 7 Empress

General Hux and Kylo Ren have found themselves competing for the affection of a lieutenant aboard the Finalizer.

Series Warnings: Language, some violence, near-death experiences.

Masterlist

AN: I've been nervous about posting this chapter for the last few weeks! Let me know what you think :)

Stepping out of the ship and into the hangar of the Supremacy was like stepping into another world. The room was full of lights and people, all well-dressed and haughty, somehow looking both effortlessly glamorous and extraordinarily ruthless as they made their way to the party’s entrance. You and Hux stood on the loading dock of your ship towards the back of the hangar, waiting for a moment to enter the throng. The room was impossibly large and still seemed packed wall-to-wall with bodies, and your pulse hammered through your veins, your heart beating erratically at the walls of your ribcage. You felt ill suddenly at the sight of it, light-headed, and for a moment you worried that you might faint in front of everyone. You were briefly distracted from your terror, though, as the general moved his hand to yours, releasing your death grip on his arm, and grabbing you gently by the shoulders, turning you to face him.

“You’re alright,” he said, his tone calm and his voice soft. His thumb rubbed slow circles on your right shoulder, and you were close enough that you could feel his breath brush against your cheeks.

“You can do this,” he continued, “and I’ll be right here.”

“What if I say the wrong thing? Or forget protocol?” you whispered, too quiet for the noisy room, ‘What if they don’t like me?”

“Lieutenant,” Hux said with an earnest intensity, so different from the reserved demeanor you were used to, “you deserve to be here. You’re a damn fine soldier. You’ve earned your place one hundred times over, and none of these people can take that away from you.” You had never heard him speak to you like this before, so candid, had never felt the bare skin of his hands on your shoulders, and the combination almost made you as light-headed as the crowd did. Renewed and a little dumbfounded by his praise, you took in one last shuddering breath and then straightened your posture, determined. Hux removed his hands from your shoulders, and you missed the pressure almost immediately. He offered you his arm once again and you took it, the two of you making your way into the churning crowd.

Apparently your nerves had been unwarranted, because as soon as you stepped into the smaller and cozier social area set aside for the women, someone sitting at one of the low tables with a few others waved you over. You walked over tentatively, taking the last open seat at their table, and accepting another glass of champagne from a nearby waiter. Each of the women at the table was varied and distinct in their appearance, but all of them were breathtakingly gorgeous.

“You’re new here,” the first woman stated. She was older than you, you could tell, but whether it was ten or twenty or thirty years you couldn’t be exactly sure. She had high cheekbones and dark skin, luminous, golden even in the muted light. Her hair was long and straight and black, streaked with silver, parted down the middle and flowing gently over her shoulders, and her gaze was intense, but kind. The other two women were equally stunning: one a fresh-faced girl with pale skin and shockingly red hair, and the other a woman about your age with a head full of wild curls and stunning green eyes, lined in black.

“It’s so nice to see a new face around here; there’s rarely any variety in the guest list anymore and I’m so bored with all these other women,” the red-haired girl spoke emphatically, reaching across the table to hold your hands in hers, “Tell us, what’s your name?”

You introduced yourself, and then shook hands with each of them as they shared their names in turn.

“What brings you to the gala, dear girl?” Nyaketh, the older woman, asked.

“I’m a lieutenant aboard the Finalizer, working under the direction of Captain Phasma and General Hux.”

“You’re here with General Hux?” asked the red-head, Laria, with a mischievous grin on her face, “he’s very handsome.” She and the other girl, Raybri, fell into a fit of giggles, and a blush rose to your cheeks.

“He’s my commanding officer,” you said, hoping that they couldn’t see the redness in your face. You did think the general was handsome, but you didn’t want anyone to know that. Your thoughts drifted back to the moment on the loading dock, his hands so steady as he held you, and then on the ship, before you landed. The look he had in his eyes, you could have sworn . . .

“The general is quite popular at these events,” Nyaketh commented, a knowing smile on her face.

“My father wants me to pursue him,” Raybri said, “because he thinks the general’s approval will gain him back the respect of the Directorate.”

“Well my father thinks that a match with the general would bring more of the First Order’s business to our ship-breaking facilities,” said Laria, in response, before the two broke into tittered laughter again.

“I had no idea that General Hux was so . . . admired,” you said, wishing for the conversation to be over. You should have realized that many people would be vying for the general’s attention, especially at an event like this, but for some reason you had not considered it. Thinking about it now put a peculiar feeling in your stomach, for reasons you could not quite understand.

“Don’t worry, darling,” said Nyaketh as she put a reassuring hand over yours, “the general is a loyal man; I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.” You paused, unable to respond as you puzzled over her words. She looked into your eyes pointedly, and her meaning suddenly hit you.

“The general and I aren’t together,” you said, blanching at the suggestion. Did they also think you were pursuing the general to increase your status, like Allecull had suggested? Did General Hux feel the same way? You could feel the palms of your hands grow warm and clammy at the thought, but his voice broke through, diminishing your worries, a damn fine soldier.

“Well, that might change soon,” Raybri responded, her words interrupting your train of thought, as she leaned in with a conspiratorial wink, “now that he’s seen you in that dress.” You tried to defend yourself, tried to defend the general, but no words came out. Before you could form a proper sentence, the other three stood from the table, walking to the far side of the room. It was time for the women to make their entrance. You rose to follow, their remarks about you and Hux still floating around in your head.

General Hux stood on the edge of the spacious ballroom, a strange mixture of boredom and anticipation sitting in his chest. After leaving you in the hallway, he had suffered through the drinking and socializing and the Officer’s Entrance, and was now waiting for the moment when you would appear again.

“Armitage,” called a man a little ways away, standing in a group with a few others, “don’t be so unsociable, come join us!” Hux fought the urge to roll his eyes, but walked over anyways, joining the other men. He had known Vice-Admiral Cordo Beck since the Academy, and had hated him for as long as he could remember.

“Evening, Beck,” the general said begrudgingly, as Beck thumped his back in greeting—an annoying display of dominance. Hux shook hands with the other men in the group, but the gesture was mostly pointless, he already knew all of them by name.

“Where’s your shiny, metal friend?” Beck asked, a hum of laughter on his lips. A few others chuckled in response, and Hux took a deep breath, trying to find some patience.

“The captain couldn’t attend this evening.”

“Here all by yourself? Who will keep all those starving girls away from you now?” Beck spoke humorously, but Hux noticed the bite of jealousy in his words. It would have been satisfying, if he had any interest in any the women there. Or at least, any of the women besides you. The other men in the group laughed lewdly, and Hux’s jaw tightened as he attempted to hold his tongue. It didn’t work.

“Actually, I’m not here alone. A lieutenant from the Finalizer will be joining me this evening.” He relished the look of shock on the other mens’ faces, trying to ignore the guilt pressing at the back of his mind. Insinuating that you were his companion for the event could complicate things, but when an opportunity to make Beck look like an idiot came up, it was hard to resist.

“A date? Really, general! You’re full of surprises,” Beck examined the general deftly as he spoke, and then, since he was unable to go more than thirty seconds without being an absolute bastard, said, “Let’s all hope that she’s a step up from the captain.” The men laughed again at Phasma’s expense, and this time Hux forced himself to take a drink to avoid saying anything reckless.

“Stars, look at the time, we better get our places; the meat market is starting,” Beck said then, slapping the general on the back again. The men began to make their way to the base of the stairs from which all of the women in attendance would enter. Finally. Hux resented the term used by the other officers when referring to what was officially known as the Grand Entrance, but his excitement to see you again momentarily overpowered his disdain. The men crowded around the stairs, and Hux tried to find a place to stand away from Beck, but the wretched man wormed his way next to the general as the event started.

With each name announced, Hux grew more nervous, anticipating the moment when you would appear, and all the possibilities that the night still held. Drinking, dining, dancing, and, in his most undisciplined imaginations, a quiet corridor away from the party, one hand at the base of your neck, the other at your hip, pressing you against a wall, your lips at his ear—his neck. Something illicit for the two of you two share before returning to the structure and expectations of the Finalizer.

The procession began, and the female officers were announced first, by order of rank, but there were not many in attendance. All of them were familiar faces, and they made their way into the crowd, some finding companions waiting for them at the base of the stairs and others unaccompanied. Yours was the 7th name announced, and hearing it, Hux held his breath. A few others in the crowd paused their murmured conversations as well, curious at the sound of an unfamiliar name, and the chance to meet a new guest.

“Let’s see this mystery date, then, General,” Hux heard Beck say as they stated your rank and position, but he brushed it off, too eager to risk missing your entrance. And when you appeared at the top of the stairs, the world stopped.

Hux couldn’t believe it, but despite the effort he had put into memorizing every detail of your appearance, he had somehow forgotten exactly how stunning you were. The stars that adorned your hair looked like a crown made from the night sky itself, and your dress caught the light as you stood at the top of the steps. Hux found no self-doubt in your expression now, and instead you surveyed the guests below as if you had been the one they all were waiting for, regal in every sense of the word. You looked like a queen, Hux thought to himself, still breathless at the sight of you, like an empress.

“Stars, Armitage,” Beck whispered beside him, “where in the galaxy did you find her?” Hux didn’t respond, only made his way to the front of the crowd, and held out his hand as you took the last few steps. You smiled when you saw him, a genuine smile, and Hux felt himself grinning in response, although he tried to restrain himself. At the bottom of the stairs, you bowed to the members of the Directorate in attendance, and then you and the general took your place in the crowd.

After the Grand Entrance finished, you and General Hux found yourselves bombarded with enthusiastic attention from many of the guests, eager to meet you. You were charming in your introductions: humble, kind, funny, and Hux felt a swell of pride in his chest having you by his side. The dinner was more of the same, and he could see it in the faces of the other officers—everyone was enamored with you.

When the dancing began, Hux begrudgingly listened as many men asked him for permission to accompany you on the dance floor. He agreed of course, against his own will and better judgement. You moved beautifully, there was no denying it, but Hux could not ignore the hot flashes of anger at watching those fools put their hands on you, pushing you around the ball room with little grace or skill.

Another dance ended, and you found him once again on the edge of the room, where he was dutifully ignoring the small group of women inching closer, hoping to catch his eye. Your face was flushed from all the excitement, or all the wine, and your smile was lively as you joined him at his side.

“You’re not dancing,” you said to him as the conductor announced another song, gently nudging him with your elbow. Hux had not bothered to ask anyone to dance, and was instead trying to gain the courage to ask you, but so far he had been unsuccessful, overcome with nerves at the thought of it. Still, there was no time like the present, as the night was close to its end, the ballroom slowly emptying as the guests took their leave. Hux opened his mouth, about to extend the invitation, when the two of you were interrupted.

“Excuse me, General, but I was hoping that your lovely companion here would favor me with a dance,” Vice Admiral Beck addressed the general, but leered at you as he spoke, expectantly. Hux’s initial reaction was to tell Beck to go fuck himself, but before he could, you spoke instead.

“I’m terribly sorry, Admiral Beck, but the general just asked me to dance,” you said to Hux’s surprise, taking him by the hand and leading him onto the dance floor. Hux followed you clumsily, shocked by this turn of events, but still managed to turn back and see the incredibly satisfying look of frustration on Beck’s face.

You took your places on the dance floor with the other couples, and Hux tried to stop his hands from shaking as he reached for your waist. The music started, and he relied on instinct as the two of you moved, completely forgetting the steps he had once known so well.

“What an odious man,” you said, your eyes on Cordo Beck as you twirled around the space.

“You know him?” Hux did not expect you to be familiar with someone like the vice-admiral, who moved in circles well above the rank of a lieutenant.

“Not personally, but my father has worked closely with him in the past, and I’ve heard him complain about Beck often.”

Hux paused for a moment in thought, suddenly curious. He had never considered your parentage before, despite the fact that, as an officer in the organization, your parents were probably people he had worked with closely. Your surname was not one he recognized, though, which made this newfound mystery all the more intriguing. Apparently, you recognized the confusion on his face, because you moved in to him, closer than was probably proper in a ballroom full of people, pressing yourself against him gently, so that you could speak into his ear.

“My father,” you began, your breath grazing the side of his face and your voice low, “is Allegiant General Enric Pryde.” Hux stumbled, dumbfounded, before regaining his footing and continuing the dance.

Enric Pryde. Just the sound of his name filled Hux with unbridled loathing. Pryde was one of the most powerful men in the First Order and General Hux knew him well. A cruel man, and a friend of his father, Hux had always hated the Allegiant General since he was a child. That man was your father. He tried to process this information, and found it unworkable, a million questions whirling through his mind.

“I didn’t know that the general had any children,” Hux said in response, hoping you couldn’t hear the hatred in his voice.

“He’s not my real father,” you explained, voice still low, “but I was taken in by Pryde at a young age, after my parents died. Pryde and his wife, they never had children, but wanted them badly. When they . . . found me, they treated me as their own, but others in the Order—on our planet Alsakan—they questioned my legitimacy as his heir. I was not . . . treated well by many of the people there, and so they sheltered me from all of this. The Prydes never planned to send me to the Academy, but when I told them that I wanted to go, the general made sure I was admitted.”

When you leaned away from Hux again, he noticed tears in your eyes, threatening to spill over onto your face. He had never seen you so solemn, and he felt the urge to rest his hand on your cheek in comfort.

“When I entered the Academy, I kept my original surname. I didn’t want anyone to think that I hadn’t earned my place here, or that I was receiving special treatment. General Pryde worries for my safety; he doesn’t want me to become a target, from threats inside or out of the Order, so we’ve kept our connection a secret.” The song had ended, but you made no move to leave the dance floor, instead taking both of Hux’s hands in yours and bringing them close to your chest, pleading.

“If the others aboard the Finalizer knew the truth, I’d never be taken seriously. Please, General, don’t tell anyone.”

Emboldened by your request and your honesty, Hux placed one hand under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his own. He needed you to feel his sincerity, to see it in his face that he, more than anyone, understood what you were going through, and what you were trying to avoid.

“I’ll keep your secret, Lieutenant. I promise.”

[let-fans-be-fans]

STAR WARS Episode 8 - The Last Jedi

Only read after watching The Mandalorian s2 e8

Imagine a Lucasfilm Story Group that has actually worked as a group since 2015.  Chuck Wendig’s draft of the first Aftermath novel has been roundly mocked and pulped before ever being committed to print.  This isn’t about that, though.  This is the germination of the story seed that is planted in The Mandalorian, so join me as we explore one of the possibilities that could have happened within the Star Wars universe: What If Grogu (the Child/Baby Yoda) first appeared in TLJ?

Ahch-To, the steps.  Luke Skywalker regards his guest Rey with a quizzical expression, telling her simply but firmly “I can’t take that, but there is a place for it somewhere...” and the two move inside Luke’s little hut.  Passing by a large levitating pod, Rey (and the audience) experiences mental flashes of meeting Finn.  Smash-cut to Finn himself waking up in the recovery suit in the med-bay.  Finn/Rose/whatever sub-plot (this post isn’t about fixing THAT car-crash, let it marinate) ensues, does what it does.  This timeline’s Rian Johnson, however, is co-existing with LFL’s Story Group and especially Dave Filoni.  They’ve cooked up one hell of an A-plot, and it continues thusly:

Rey never sees what is in the pod, and begins to wonder if Luke is messing with her or starting to go a little peculiar from isolation, on account of how he talks to it.  In fact, something is starting to make her feel slightly more at ease.  Maybe even a little guilty when Luke’s mood turns sombre and he says, “I know.  About Han, and Ben...”  We maybe even get a little nostalgia-boost by Luke opting to use the training remote and blast-shield helmet to start training Rey.  It’s like poetry, it rhymes.

All through this time, Luke has not withdrawn himself from the Force out of shame.  He has always kept himself open to it, learning from the spirits of his teachers.  The night that Rey decides to leave and try to aid the Resistance (or to confront Kylo Ren for her own reasons) is the night that Luke receives a visitation from two very unexpected spirits.

That’s right, y’all.  The first Force ghost appearance of a non-Force-sensitive character in the Saga.  Padmé and Anakin show up to give Luke the news that some strange, dark figure has attempted to kill Leia by shooting at her private chamber on the Resistance flagship, only for Luke to not understand why they don’t know the attacker’s name.   “You don’t need to hide it, to protect him.  You know, as well as I do, that it was Ben!”  Anakin shares a concerned look with the spirit of his wife, and the next thing he says would absolutely blow the cinema audience out of every single seat in the house.  “Luke?  Son, listen to me.  Who is this Ben?”

That’s right.  Anakin Skywalker, the former Sith Lord Darth Vader, has absolutely no idea that our sequel trilogy’s Vader-like antagonist (his own grandson) even exists.  Even as the Force ghosts watching over Luke and Leia and their families for all this time, both Padmé and Anakin explain that from their perspective, something is bending the Force itself around Ben Solo, pulling him away from not only the Light side, but also from its Dark side.  “The boy, Ben Solo, is living his entire life surrounded by a wound in the Force.  This wound, it’s very subtly, slowly eating him!”

Luke is still in shock from hearing the ghosts of his parents telling him what is happening to Kylo Ren.  Rey is trying to keep him out but the villain is urged by his twisted Master, the Supreme Leader of the First Order.  Their telepathic communication is picked up on by Luke, who all at once sees what has truly become of his nephew.  Ben Solo appears to his uncle, surrounded by tendrils that look like animated cracks in a pane of window glass.  This is the wound in the Force, and its presence is felt most strongly by the eldest living Force-sensitive on the island of Ahch-To.  A short cry splits the cracked and bleeding image of Kylo Ren and Rey wakes with a sudden start.  Luke is frowning as he looks toward the floating cradle, then he makes his decision.  We (and Rey) are about to meet the 100 % physical in-camera puppet.  Cast and crew are made to sign an infinite supply of Non-Disclosure Agreements, Rian Johnson is talked into only letting Mark Hamill, Daisy Ridley and the puppeteers onto the sets while everybody else is shooting their things.

The cradle pod swings back its protective lid slowly, and there he is making his debut before an audience that paid full movie theater (remember those?) ticket prices.  Exuding full fucking “Gizmo in the box on the coffee table” energy, the Child glances sleepily between Rey and Luke.  This is why the legendary Jedi Master left the civilized New Republic, he tells Rey.  The massacre of his first generation of Jedi students, the betrayal by his nephew, all of it would have been for nothing if he couldn’t save one very important life.  Rey is sworn to protect the Child, who is old enough now to speak his own name.   “Grogu?  Is that what he said?”  “One of his protectors told me it’s his name, right before telling me how I looked just like my father.  We had a pretty good laugh about that...”

Leia/Poe/Holdo subplot, and [THE FOLLOWING PARAGRAPH WILL ONLY INCITE SHOUTY BEARDO YOUTUBERS TO SCISSOR THE HEADS OFF ACTION FIGURES THEY BUY WITH THEIR OWN MONEY, THEREFORE IT IS CENSORED TO SHIELD THE AUTHOR FROM PROSECUTION]

Before the Holdo manoeuvre, the Hyperspace Karen or whatever you want to call it, Rey acts out the plan that she and Luke have concocted in secret so that Chewbacca in the Millennium Falcon can safely evacuate both Luke and Grogu.  Rey hasn’t been told about the wound in the Force that swirls around Kylo Ren, but for some reason she can now see the same churning mass of tiny cracks in reality, and they spread out behind the Supreme Leader Snoke in much the same manner that Palpatine’s throne sat before the spiderweb-looking window of his tower on the Death Star.   This is it, we think.  Snoke is the wound in the Force drawing Ben away from his true self.  Even as the lightsabre that Rey brought with her ignites and strikes Snoke dead, the audience is thinking along with Rey that the wound is going to close up.

IT GETS BIGGER.  AND IT FUCKING CONSUMES SNOKE’S BISECTED CORPSE LIKE A SHADOW VERSION OF THE THING FROM THE 1982 MOVIE

So no.  Rey sees it happen, but Kylo remains completely oblivious as he takes up leadership of the First Order.  Something about the way he accuses Rey of the murder makes us think he really believes it too.  As Rey narrowly escapes, haunted by the sight of the living animalistic wrongness that ate Supreme Leader Snoke, General Hux is rather confused.  “Forgive me, ah, Supreme Leader.  But you are the first Supreme Leader of the First Order.  There was never a previous holder of that position, my Lord.”  I know!  Right!?

The Resistance’s last ships have limped along the supply line to the long-abandoned old Rebel holdout on the silicate world of Crait.  The wreckage of Snoke’s flagship the Supremacy, hangs in space, permanently suspended in the wake of the Holdo manoeuvre.  From the epicentre, a single pinprick of darkness begins to expand hungrily to devour the light from the hyperspace explosion.  The great wound left in the Force crawls across the destroyed vessel, the thinnest tendril of its immense darker-than-space form now separated from Kylo Ren.  Or, so it would seem, anyway...  Reunited with Rey, Luke gives her an understanding nod when she informs him of how the lightsabre of his father was literally ripped in half by the destruction of Snoke’s flagship.  Some of the elder members of the Resistance don’t have the slightest clue what Rey’s mysterious words mean.  As far as they know, Kylo Ren has been the brutal enforcer of the First Order, only recently declaring himself the first Supreme Leader of the faction.  Finn and Rose both speak up in defense of Rey, both of them surprised to hear that Leia also knew of Snoke’s death and the destruction of the flagship by her erstwhile friend, Amilyn Holdo.

Nobody can agree what happened, because a large subset of Resistance personnel share vague, half-formed memories of things as Luke, Rey or Leia tells them.  No droids, or Chewbacca, share their recollections, and uneasy looks pass between members of the post-war generation and the Skywalker twins.   It’s a quirk of the Force!  Every sentient born after the death of Emperor Palpatine, the unfortunately waylaid Maz Kanata informs them via hologram, possesses a significantly higher potential for Force abilities than the generation who grew up on the fringes of the rise of the Empire, the clamp-down on Jedi and suspected Jedi.

It would seem that this Force baby boom did not extend to First Order space (being mostly disaffected ex-Imperials, their families would be more careful to weed out any aberrations in the bloodline and try not to be of interest to the Emperor) as only Kylo Ren, their rightful Supreme Leader and master of the Knights of Ren demonstrates any ability to touch the Force.  That voice that only he can hear in the presence of Darth Vader’s ruined helmet tells him, its tone and pitch and cadence shifting (starting as the booming bass rumble of Vader’s synthesized voice before being joined by the harsh rasp of Snoke.  The low, menacing tone of Maul and the cackling, wheezing Palpatine.)  Power is the only thing worth holding onto.  Let the past die, kill it if you have to.   Cut out the weakness that keeps you bound to things like family...

“This is not going to go the way you think.”

Driven on by the maddening chorus of voices, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has now managed to track his hated Resistance opposition to the deserted world of Crait.  Ships entering the vicinity of the mysterious hyperspace blackout are slowly consumed, vanishing into the great wound and becoming officially non-existent.  Alone against his crazed nephew, the Jedi Master Luke Skywalker steps out onto the crystalline plain before the bulkhead doors of the former Rebel base.  He cannot be hit by the guns of the lumbering walkers that his errant nephew orders to fire on him.  Kylo’s attempts to telekinetically barrage Luke with the salted earth of Crait simply do not phase the man.  As he calmly reminds Kylo: “The Rebellion is reborn today. The war is just beginning. And I will not be the last Jedi.” Kylo Ren’s dangerously unstable lightsabre blade harmlessly passes over Luke as he ducks out of its reach.  Finally, the angry young man seizes his moment and lashes out at Luke’s midsection.  Nothing?

The Jedi Master nods his head slowly, the camera pulling back to reveal him sat in a meditative posture atop a flat-headed rock just off the shore of his home island on Ahch-To.  Focusing his will through the Force, Luke appears not only in front of Kylo Ren, but also between Leia and Rey inside the base.  The two of them in turn are surrounded by a loose semi-circle of the younger, more Force-sensitive recruits of the Resistance including Finn and Rose Tico.  All of them, opening their conscious selves to the Force, are helping to shoulder the burden that Luke has taken on.  Proudly, Luke slowly rises from his seat and sends a mocking salute to Kylo.  “See ya ‘round, kid...”

The last supplies are loaded onto what few Resistance carriers and short-range fighters they have left, as well as the famous Millennium Falcon. Rey and Grogu both agree that their first priority is to properly re-establish contact with Luke Skywalker.  Furious, Kylo retreats to his ship-board meditation chamber, pounding his gloved fists into the ashes surrounding the remnants of Vader’s helmet.  Cursing the scavenger girl seems to spark some interest in the bizarre otherworldly whispers, the flash-image of Rey in the dark young man’s thoughts prompting the inner voice to remark, “We shall be re-united soon enough.  Yes, you will see what new powers I possess in time, sister...”

SMASH TO END CREDITS!

[pulltothelight]

June Reylo Fanfic Recap

This year is half over! And I wrote so much this month, I’m so happy with myself. 6 months since we lost our dear Ben, but fanfics keep him alive! Anywho, if you want to stay up to date on what I’ve been writing, or you want to just binge some Reylo, you can find me as BurntKloverfield on AO3, and you can check out my other personal monthly Fanfic Recaps under the tag #fanfic-recap.

I started out this month by going through my notes for some unfinished fic ideas, and I had so many, and I still have a lot, but I wrote through some of them so there are several short fics you can read through pretty quickly.

Saving What We Love is a canon divergent au where right after the throne room in TLJ. When the Supremacy and the Legacy Saber were shattered down the middle, Rey dragged an unconscious Ben back with her. Unfortunately, he wakes up in a cell. 

Padawans of Ren was a little note that had been hanging around my docs since TFA era, but I went and fleshed it out a bit, and it turned out fairly cute and tender. Set in a post TFA au. Luke refused to teach Rey on Ach-to, and so she returned to D'qar to the Resistance, which was still hidden from the First Order, until Kylo Ren shows up with three new faces.

Entangled Stars is a concept that I’ve had forever, where everyone is participating in a dance competition, another little idea that was hanging out in my notes. I’m sad I don’t have the animation talents to make this visual, but my talents lie in words, so you get this cute little description of a dance competition.

Always a Woman to Me is set to the Billy Joel song by the same name. Another note that was waiting for me to do something with. It was always just Finn and Ben talking to each other about Rey, but it throws in a twist post TROS. 

I also write meta, on occasion. Today on I Fricking Love Ben Solo is a meta I’m sure you’ve already read since I originally posted it on tumblr, but I like to throw them on AO3 as well for safe keeping. 

Palpatine is a Liar is something I’ve been trying to write since I first saw TROS. A quick sidequest shows that Palpatine is a manipulative liar, always has been, always will be, and it changes the entire series of events of the movie. 

Written in My Hand, remember my canon divergent soulmate mark au? 2 new chapters this month!!! It’s a little bit angsty, but I really appreciate where it’s going.

The Rose of the Titanic is a bonus fic this month. It’s actually a GingerRose Titanic au. 

It’s all there for you to catch up on. I’ve got a fic coming out on the 4th, so keep an eye out for that. 

Again, thank you so much for reading, and kudos, and commenting! It’s always so exciting to see people get excited about my writing. I really love writing, and I thrive on seeing people read the stuff I make.

[imagine-what-would-happen]

A Little Bit of Grey (Part 5 Kylo Ren Fanfiction)

Hey guys! Here is part 5! I try to update both stories every day but its been sort of a difficult time lately, I’m sorry for not updating yesterday! But I’ll be working to post a new chapter for “Since The Beginning” tonight! I hope you all enjoy! Again don’t hesitate to ask to be tagged in future instalments! Hope you all enjoy!

Warning: Mentions of blood and needles. Condescending tone against self injury. Statements of wanting to self harm/ self harming. Swearing.

Words: 1.9k+

Link to Part 4

Link to Part 6

Link to Masterlist

Tags: @dark-night-sky-99​

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Kylo pulled against his restraints, he didn’t understand what was happening, he didn’t know how he got here. All he knew was that he was tied up to a cold medical bed aboard the resistance’s ship; this was all he was focusing on at the moment; anything else was just too much at the moment.

“Oh sweetie, you’re just going to hurt yourself. You’re too pretty to get yourself hurt” Neira stated in a condescending tone. She walked around the room toying with the medical supplies. It was strange seeing a supposed member of the resistance being so cold. Usually, all of them that he encountered were so warm and bright... being on the light side and all. If Kylo had assessed her based on her personality he would have pinned her for a member of the First Order.

The skin around his wrists was starting to tear, blood pushing through the irritated area. Neira was playing around with a needle, tapping it to take out the air bubbles. “So what are you planning on doing with me? Huh? You the one person on the light side who can torture me for information? Or does the resistance still not work that way?” He questioned, his eyes squeezed shut through the pain.

Neira scoffed, “Oh sweetie if you want me to hurt you, all you have to do is ask.” She smirked and winked at Kylo. He felt disgusted. She looked like Andy, sounded like her, but... it definitely wasn’t her. This wasn’t the girl he was going to leave everything else he knew for.

“Lets just cut to the chase, shall we?” She dropped the needle onto the table and walked back over to the tied up Kylo. “You want to know what happened, how I know you, where your precious girlfriend is, although... can you really call her your girlfriend?” She shrugged sarcastically. “Eh, doesn’t really matter I guess.”

Kylo looked on at the woman before him, silent, sweat dripping down him. He did want to know what happened. His head was killing him with the questions racing through his mind, he needed to know.

“Alright well..” Neira pulled a rolling stool over. “I came aboard the Supremacy around - hmmm.. I would say a few weeks after Cammie’s training began. Yeah, it was about then.” She looked over to an obviously confused Kylo. “Oh right, the time that you knew her for... she didn’t have a name... didn’t know where she was from right?” She sighed, “I’ll get to that. All you have to know is that her real name is Cammila... everyone here knows her by Cammie. But anyway, I came aboard... You know you guys really should up your security, that was way too easy.” She laughed softly as if recalling an old memory but then rolled her eyes.

“I got a few of my friends to take Cammie and I took her place, got the hang of everything fairly quickly, you guys really do have fairly basic training. No wonder your guys suck at shooting.”

Kylo was more lost than ever, looking down. If Neira... If she came aboard the Supremacy only a few weeks into Andy- Cam- ugh... the girl... if Neira came aboard the ship then... everything on the Silencer was a lie. It meant nothing, and he looked like an idiot. No wonder it had seemed so easy with her, it wasn’t real. He felt a pit in his stomach growing, he felt he would fall into it, drown in its darkness as he did so long ago when joining the First Order.

“Why doesn’t she remember her name...” Kylo whispered, trying to hold the tear that would throw him over the edge, he wanted to push his wrist more into the restrains, that pain was a hundred times better than the realization coming over him.

“It’s a new idea the resistance came up with... Cammie was one of us, she volunteered for the experiment, she said she could do it. It was fairly easy finding something that would erase her memory completely.” Neira looked down at her hands, seemingly completely unfazed by the topic at hand.

“Is she not your sister?” Kylo spat, “Don’t you care that she doesn’t know who you are? Don’t you care what you put her through?” He studied her, how could two people, two siblings be so completely different. He thought back to his mother and uncle. Sure they were different, but not to this extent.

“Of course I care,” Neira met his eyes and stood, showing her dominance. “But, its the resistance that matters, everyone’s lives are at stake here and she's the one who volunteered to do it.” Neira turned around. “I tried to talk her out of it.” She whispered, putting a hand to her arm, seeming to try to comfort herself, then in an instant turned around, “You think you know her but you don’t! You don’t know anything about her. You don’t know what makes her scream awake at night. You don’t know what her dreams are... You. Do. Not. Know. Her.” She spat every word.

“The sister you knew is gone.” Kylo retorted, “You made sure of that”. He watched her, and suddenly realized how idiotic he was. In all his confusion and storm of emotions, he hadn’t even attempted at using the Force. He had tried severely to remind himself not to use the Force on... on the girl. The fact that Neira looks exactly like her must have kept his instincts in line. The one time he should have lost control. He groaned internally. Time to show what he was made of.

“Untie me.” He whispered the words while looking directly at Neira.

“What was that..?” She asked stepping closer.

“You will untie me,” Kylo demanded in a breathy but louder voice.

Neira sighed and rolled her eyes, obviously tired of Kylo. “Kylo Ren. You may have abilities in the Force, but one thing you forget is that those mind games... they work on the weak of mind.” She touched his cheek almost sweetly. “I am so much more than that.” She pulled away and walked towards the door, hips swaying. “Goodnight you discount Sith” She called back, and then she was gone.

Kylo laid his head back and grit his teeth. What were they planning on doing with him? He tried to stretch out the cramp he was getting in his neck. What were they doing to do to the girl? He refused to call her by her previous resistance name, that wasn’t her anymore. He wasn’t even sure if it was the truth, although it would make sense why they would erase her memory. If they knew about Kylo having Force abilities, which most everyone did, he could easily read her mind and know why she was there... they would have never gotten close.

The way he felt about the girl... was it still real even if her memory was wiped, completely becoming someone else...? Would he still have fallen for the person she was before? He wasn’t even sure at this point if she had ever showed any affection for him. He felt so empty, nothing mattered now... He just wanted to get back to the Supremacy and blow up these good for nothing criminals. He bit his lip fiercely, drawing blood, the same as the first time he saw the girl.

The way she moved that day... the rage and pure force. She wasn’t afraid to do what needed to be done... except for when it came to killing someone. Was that a trait she had in her old self? He sighed and closed his eyes. It didn’t matter anymore.

The sound of something getting knocked over is what woke up the commander. He squinted, reaching to rub his eyes but then wincing at the still irritated wound and dried blood around his wrists. Fuck. He was here. It wasn’t a dream. He groaned, then letting out a breath of air he tried to look around again.

Through the bright white lights he saw a young girl at the medical station across from him. “Hold on.. I’ll be with you in just a second.” She mumbled and put some more instruments onto a trolley and began rolling it over closer to him. “Good morning Mister Ren.” She said quietly but professionally.

Kylo was quite confused. Why was such a young girl using medical equipment and why the hell did she call him mister Ren? “Uh.. Hi.” He said softly. “Who are you?” He questioned hesitantly.

“I’m your care taker...” She sat down on the rolling stool and searched for the items she needed.

“Okay, listen kid. I know you wanna play doctor but I’m actually hurt, you could cause more damage than good.” Kylo stated, he didn’t have time for this.

The girl wasn’t fazed by what he said. “First off, you can call me Doctor M. Second off, I’m the one who patches up the guys who you shoot at, and I’m the reason they get back on their feet.” She looked back up at an uneasy Kylo. “So what, kids on your planet can levitate rocks and mind control people but can’t put a bandaid on a cut? Get over yourself.”

Kylo seriously needed a reality check about the resistance. What happened to all the warm happy people? Everyone here was angry, sassy, and cold.

The girl began disinfecting Kylo’s wounds, and he couldn’t help wincing. He was so used to being spoiled by the medical facilities aboard the Supremacy, they would numb any wound before doing anything else to it. The girl chuckled softly, “You guys really are just stories aren’t you?” She looked up at him and then back down at her work.

“What do you mean?” He raised a brow.

“I mean, you guys fight with friggan lightsabers and blasters, constantly surviving battle after battle with each other and yet you’re in pain from a few cuts and bruises. I just find it funny.” She smiled. “It’s good to know the bad guys are human too.”

Kylo sighed, “You know we’re really not that bad.” The girl looked up at him with an are you kidding me look, “Okay...” He nodded at her. “I’m not that bad... hows that?” He tried.

“Well, the fact that the resistance hasn’t killed you yet, and the fact that you haven’t killed me yet would probably seem to make that statement true.” She stated matter of factly.

Kylo was more than taken aback. “Why would I kill you?” He looked down at the child.

“Maybe you’re having a bad day? Maybe you’re having a tantrum?” She shrugged. “You guys don’t ever have a real reason to kill anyone do you?” She looked up at him accusingly.

“Wha- yes we do.” He scoffed.

“Then how is it that the resistance doesn’t do that unless its in an actual battle and yet they’re still here?” The girl starred at him, he didn’t have a response. She was actually on to something, though he wouldn’t acknowledge it. “Thats what I thought” She sighed and stood up, pulling her trolley back to the station to dispose of everything.

She took a breath, leaning onto the counter with her hands stabilizing herself, “If everyone just sat down and talked everything out, maybe this war would be over even quicker than it started...” I don’t get what is so hard about it?

Kylo let out a soft sight, often enough he thought about the same. Things were far too complicated in this life.

[mandaloriangf]

All those horrible posts about Kylo being coded as x minority really remind me how much he’s genuinely coded as racist, intentionally so. For one thing jj abrams has stated he modeled the fo after neon*zis, something that included Kylo since he was the only character the description applied to. He also follows the (admittedly problematic) established sw metaphor of anti-alien prejudice as a standin for racism. His first act as supreme leader post-crait is to authorize wiping out an 1/5

entire planet/sentient species/culture, which he follows up with by attacking the mon Cala and Wookiees. His stans use the fact that he suggested using a clone army instead of kidnapped children, but clones have also been a stand in for racial minorities in sw (it’s not accidental that every canon clone is a man of color). Finally, and most importantly, the movies and comics actually show him being particularly violent to people of color. “He felt bad about killing han so he can’t be all bad”2/5

he showed no remorse for maiming Finn with the intent to kill (and he doesn’t know he survived until maybe TRoS). “He was so much gentler torturing Rey than Poe” that seriously isn’t a red flag to his white stans? His comics which were supposed to make him look sympathetic show him as three of his classmates died and the only one he doesn’t feel sad about, the only one he intentionally kills, is an innocent black girl (who Reylos love to vilify for not reading his mind) 3/5

Kylo Ren is exactly the kind of character who makes white audiences comfortable with violence against poc, and TRoS makes Rey complicit in that now that she knows how far his canon prejudices and his violence against her so-called friends goes. (He is also canonically classist so I guess kissing the “garbage picker” shows growth but not anything meaningful). I’ve watched Reylos fall deeper into racism bc of their ship and making it canon dragged Rey down to their level even though 4/5

“There is no racism in Star Wars”. God I hate them 5/5

this really puts it all into perspective. his stans can deny as much as they want but they’re inching toward white supremacy and some are already there. the way that they deny john his experiences as a black man but go on and on about how kylo is x coded so criticizing him is bigoted, they way they downplay the violence against poe and finn, particularly when its enacted by kylo, its gotten SO BLATANT at this point

[pacificwanderer]

Hello. I just want to say that I'm eager for you to talk about the theory that maybe Ben also lost his connection with the Force after the events of TLJ. :)

Hey! Me too! I’m going to combine this with another ask that I’m putting below the cut because it gets long and ranty lol, but similar theme.

I saw a meltdown from someone who is now saying that "If Rey is weak and can't control the force properly without Kylo, SW and Disney is anti-feminist" and also said "This is probably a vendetta to keep Kylo alive because without him she would be useless. What is the point of making a force-user character like this? She is worthless. She has to rely on a man to gain excess to her power! I bet she'll have to ask permission like a obedient wife." What the actual F? This is not how the force works!

OKAY lol, so here’s the deal. Rant incoming, and not directed at you, Nonnie. Just general tone of rantiness:

Some people are just going to have to come to terms with the fact that Ben and Rey are are their strongest when they work together. Because, guess what? Kylo is having a hard time dealing with this shit too and, as we get more information during the lead up to the movies, I bet you he’s been having a hard time controlling his Force powers as well. As someone pointed out (maybe the following thread? i can’t find the damn comment), Kylo only fixes Hux’s collar after reaching towards him with what looks like a typical, Kylo going to Force choke you power, only for him to reach out and fix his collar instead. Yeah, of course it’s ship bait, but I also think that it’s more than that. I think he’s having the same struggles connecting with the Force as Rey.

The Force is fucking PISSED at these two. Here it brought them together, showed them how great they are as a team and how well they can protect/work together, and then they fucked it all up (because we’re at the midpoint in a three movie series and they had to). SO YEAH. If it’s not working for one, it’s not working for the other. Once they realize that they need to work together, like the Force has been showing them since TFA (hell, it even kept Rey and Kylo separated with the literal planet splitting between them so they couldn’t fight anymore), they will be unstoppable. They are literally each other’s equal in the Force.

“Darkness rises and Light to meet it.” WE KNOW THIS. The movie shows us this!

She’s conflicted and having a hard time centering her thoughts because she’s thinking about Ben and the burdens that are on her shoulders. She’s a GD symbol and that’s got to be hard to deal with without having a thing for the literal Supreme Leader of the galaxy. If she didn’t care about him (and if they didn’t have a fucking Force bond), this wouldn’t be an issue. But it is an issue because she cares about him. A lot! He disappointed her, and she disappointed him (not getting into the who’s right in that scenario because it’s irrelevant. Fact of the matter is, they both feel betrayed). Also, is she keeping that a secret? Who knows that she went to the Supremacy to save him? Aside from maybe Leia? Because that’s a pretty big fucking secret to have on your shoulders too.

She doesn’t need to ask his permission, she needs to understand that the conflict within her is coming as a result of her feelings for him and her own inabilty to reconcilate and accept her own dark side. Just like he needs to come to terms with and accept the light side in him. I really think that we’re going beyond good and evil with this. Might not be gray jedi (I know Pablo hates that term lol), but something new, something that is purely Force. OH and you know who agrees with me?

Luke fucking Skywalker:

“Using the Force is all about finding balance. And some Force users, particularly Force-sensitive children--known by the Jedi as younglings--are able to tap into its energy without an obvious alignment to either side. The Force simply flows through them in its purest form. Based on the constant struggles I’ve witnessed between the light and the dark sides of the Force, perhaps their innate neutrality can teach us all a valuable lesson.”

This is a Force issue, it’s a relationship issue, and it’s something they’re going to have to work through if they’re ever going to be able to resolve what’s between them. And think about it, when I’m upset with someone I care about, it impacts my ability to be able to do my work, absolutely it does.

Does that make it sexist? Fucking no. It means I care for them and I need to figure out how to solve the problem! I either need to talk to them and sort my shit out, or take a deep breath and find my center. Just like they need to find their center in the Force, but you know what helps? Having a friend or someone who understands there with you to help along the way. To help you understand the experiences you might have otherwise not understood.

The Force is there, it’s always there, and Rey’s had a hard time balancing herself for a while (remember the whole meditation thing with Luke). She needs help. She herself has said she needs help. There’s a power that inside her that she doesn’t understand and she needs to learn how to wield it. And guess who’s been set up to be her teacher (in one way or another) since TFA? Kylo fucking Ren. She goes to dark the same way he can’t keep himself from being attracted by the light.

THEY BALANCE EACH OTHER. And it’s okay! Her powers aren’t being taken from her, but her ability to access them is hampered by her own emotional state. Once she finds her center, her ability to use the Force properly will be just fine (because I think people forget that it takes a lot of mental control to be able to use the Force properly--hell, even Luke struggles with it on Hoth! Remember who helps him there? Obi-Wan’s Force ghost! Guess that’s sexist????).

Hell, I think she’s finding her center in the trailer when she backflips over Kylo’s TIE.

So much discourse comes from people’s headcanons not being validated and I certainly know that some of mine won’t be, but a lot of this angst is because people have been willfully ignoring what the story has been telling them all along.

Heteronormative? Sure, you could make a case for that, and this series as a whole needs to do better wrt representation across the board. Not feminist? How is saying that the only way a woman can be strong is if she only ever relies on herself any more feminist? I’m tired of this fucking narrative where women heroes aren’t allowed to have the same flaws, fuckups, weaknesses, you know, just generally be an interesting character, like their male counterparts. It’s bullshit. Women are multifaceted. They’re allowed to have flaws. They’re allowed to ask for help. They’re allowed to need other people. This shit carries over into IRL and I fucking hate it. Women do not have to be perfect. Not in life and certainly not in fucking fiction. YOU CAN BE A GREAT HERO AND STILL HAVE FLAWS. You can be a hero and not go it alone. You can be a hero and still fail.

The only reason some people have a problem with this is because they don’t like the character that’s clearly causing her conflict right now (but he’s not the only reason she’s feeling conflict!!!!). This all comes down to their fucking hate for Kylo Ren because if she was reliant on the character they shipped her with, there wouldn’t be a gd peep right now.

Anyways, I typed this all out, debated not posting it, but I’m gonna because it took a while.

People are going to believe what they want, I’m not going to change any opinions, but they have to take a moment to ask themselves why they are willing to invest so much time in energy in a series that apparently doing everything they hate all the time? Seems like a big waste of time to me.

Cheers!