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sweetrevxnge · 2 years

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Ghosts In The Snow

Chapter Five

Pairing: Vampire!Kylo Ren x Reader AU

Summary: Six long years had passed under the reign of the First Order. The bitter winters grew longer, and as they did, hope faded from the hearts of the citizens of Hosnian Prime. As a lieutenant in the Resistance cavalry, it was your duty to nurture that ember of hope. After a mission takes an unexpected turn, you are taken prisoner by a commander in the First Order, a mysterious man with an insatiable appetite—for violence, power, and you. In the coming days, you must keep the spark of your own hope alive from the dark confines of the Commander's castle.

Warnings: sexual content, violence, blood kink, gore, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Next Chapter

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 3k

Chapter-specific CW: compulsion, light emotional manipulation (but it's ok bc he's a hot vampire)

A/N: "how am I supposed to live laugh love under these conditions?" -y/n to kylo probably

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“After you, my dear.”

The threshold of the doorway was all that stood between you and the prospect of freedom. Or at least, so you thought.

Moonlight peaked through the dark clouds above, flooding the spacious courtyard Ren had brought you to with silver light. Disappointment sank through you like a stone—not that you were expecting him to loosen your invisible lead enough to allow you to roam an open area of the castle’s property. All things considered, this was generous.

Tentatively, you stepped out into the night, disregarding your lack of footwear as you followed the ivory tiles lining the path. Short, frostbitten hedges surrounded you, perfectly manicured despite their leaves being brittle and sparse. Snowflakes dusted the earth, falling like tiny, frozen kisses on your skin.

Woven throughout the foliage were dozens of rosebushes, their thorns now all that remained of their beauty. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the garden in bloom, with rays of sunlight bathing the roses until their petals unfurled, inviting bees to collect pollen from each colorful bundle. But spring had long since passed. The stems had morphed into skeletons, their wilted petals cracking under the blanket of frost. It was oddly beautiful; something that was once so vibrant, now faded and cold, preserved by winter’s embrace.

Around you stood the high walls of the castle, with elegant archways and stained windows. Everything felt venerable, even down to the footsteps immortalized in the tile from centuries of tread, aging the fortress well beyond the Empire’s rule. Judging by the weathered state of the walls encasing you, the castle was likely constructed during the Grand Republic’s reign, dating it beyond the past three hundred years. To think that there was a time when its halls had been occupied by diplomats—ones who placed the interests of the people above their own aspirations. Much like the garden, their memory had faded in the presence of the First Order.

You stopped in front of two black iron benches arranged in the center of the court. They accented the focal piece of the garden: a pond, sheathed by a layer of glistening ice. You pictured a family of ducks paddling through it in the summer, creating tiny ripples as they splashed the cool water onto their feathers. The irony of peace existing in a place of such violence.

“What do you think?” Ren asked behind you, joining you in observation of the frozen water.

Releasing a long breath, you answered bluntly, “It’s hard to say. Everything’s dead.”

He chuckled at your honesty. “Yes. But even now, there is a certain beauty to it, wouldn’t you agree?” He stepped closer, pressing his chest flush against your back, offering you no heat. There was nothing warm or soft about him. For all you knew, he was made of marble beneath the layer of black fabric—his body temperature suggesting as much.

You instinctively pulled away, turning to face him. Quick breaths passed through your lips, the wisps of vapor lingering in the air like ghosts. Ren was frightening and beautiful, making him the most dangerous kind of monster. Not the kind that mothers warned their children of through tales, hoping to deter them from venturing too far into the woods, but the kind that the ladies at court would gossip about. The handsome devil.

“From a certain point of view, I suppose,” you finally said, turning your back on him once again. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing—even if he had heard your inner dialogue earlier.

Ren walked alongside you as you continued to meander through the garden. Even the slightest brush of his arm made the hair on the back of your neck stand. Although, in fairness, the culprit could very well have been the winter air, too.

You considered making conversation with him, less because you were interested in what he had to say, but rather as a pleasantry in return for the change of scenery. When you opened your mouth to speak, you found that the words were lodged in your throat, impossible to push out. Perhaps it was the icy air burning your airway, or another force entirely. Regardless, you continued to walk in silence, sorting through your thoughts—as you suspected he was, too.

It seemed as if the tile path had transformed into shards of glass by the way your feet ached, each step sending a wave of pain through your nerves. Determined to stay outside as long as possible, you ignored it, slowing your pace to accommodate.

“You’re shivering,” Ren stated, as if you were somehow unaware of your chattering teeth.

“Yes, I know.”

“Would you like to go inside?”

You froze in place, but unlike in the forest, this was not his doing. He came to stand in front of you, tracing your face with eyes as black as obsidian.

“I doubt that decision is mine to make,” you countered. The illusion of free will—as if you weren’t trapped in this castle because of him.

“You would be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, yes, how could I forget? The man who slaughtered my entire squadron—my savior.”

His jaw tensed. “It’s not as if I was acting of my volition. I was merely protecting my men, keeping my oath. Surely that is something you can understand.”

Of course it was. But you had failed to do that, and now you would spend a lifetime being haunted by it.

“Enough,” you said, tearing your eyes away from him as you turned to face the withering garden. The frayed threads holding you together snapped, allowing the flood of emotions to pour in. As it did, you wondered if it would always be like this. Reminded of the carnage every time you laid eyes on him. Sentenced to a miserable existence with the man responsible for your nightmares.

A hand came to rest on your shoulder. You shuddered at the touch. “For what it’s worth, their deaths were wholly unnecessary.” There was a trace of remorse in his words, quickly replaced by his usual tone. “But such is the nature of war, my dear.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your tongue before you could say anything else. When you opened them again, Ren was standing in front of you, close enough to hide the moonlight behind him.

“Why did you do it?” Your voice cracked as you spoke, fighting desperately to hold back your frustration.

He furrowed his brows, confused by your question. “The Supreme Leader’s orders were clear–”

“No,” you snapped, a harsh edge replacing the weakness in your voice. “I mean, why did you capture me? How is it fair that I should be the only survivor, condemned to live out the rest of my days under your thumb?”

As soon as the words had left your mouth, you wished you could reach out and shove them back into the depths of your mind. He didn’t deserve to see you like this, brimming with raw emotion. It was a state you reserved only for those closest to you, those who you would likely never see again.

Ren was silent, stoic. In a moment like this, you wished you possessed his ability to probe minds. Instead of offering you an answer, he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone and jaw, tracing a line as light as a whisper over your skin.

Immediately, the tension in your shoulders dissolved, washed away along with every concern occupying your mind. Despite his cool touch, warmth rose to your cheeks.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that this arrangement could liberate you in ways you’ve never imagined?” His voice was silky, falling on your ears like a symphony of angels. A soft cloud settled over you, eliciting a strange feeling within your chest as you gazed up at him, searching his black eyes for an answer to his question.

“I have not, my lord,” you whispered, the words leaving your tongue like a prayer.

Ren’s lips parted, revealing brilliant white teeth as he grinned, amused by your response. “Of course not. And why should you have? Such thoughts have no place in a mind as troubled as yours.” He swept his fingers over your cheek again, soothing you.

You nodded into his hand. The cold that gnawed at your fingers and toes was nothing more than a distant sensation, an ache quelled by his touch. He glanced down at your figure, frowning at the sight of your dress. In the time that the two of you had been standing outside, a light layer of snow had melted into the thin fabric of your gown, clinging to your skin. With deft fingers, he tied the strings of your cloak into a small knot and smoothed the fabric over your shoulders.

“Now, let’s go inside. I can’t have my bride freezing to death,” he said in a low tone, leaning closer to your lips. “Next time, I advise you to wear more fitting attire.”

Next time. Intoxicated by his words, you nodded in agreement, your eyes still fixed on his.

As if you were a sack of feathers, he hoisted you off the ground, holding you as he did in the forest. Only this time, there was no fear in your heart, no panic closing off your throat. With your hands clasped behind his neck, he carried you back into the castle, moving swiftly through the courtyard. Although the taste of freedom was dwindling with every step he took, you were content—almost pleased—to be returning to the safety of your chambers.

Your head felt as light as the cushions of the chaise lounge as Ren set you down upon it. The memory of where his hands had gripped you remained after he released you, leaving your skin tingling at each spot. In the darkness, it was nearly impossible to see him moving through your chambers, an issue remedied by a fire roaring to life in the hearth.

Satisfied with his work, Ren stood behind the sofa, peering down at you laying across it. Golden flames flickered in his eyes, softening his strong features. Your cloak had shifted, exposing more of your nightwear than you would’ve preferred. But you didn’t mind. In fact, you liked it—how the sleeves had fallen past your shoulders and the hem of the dress had gathered above your knees. You felt ethereal, basking in the glow radiating from the hearth. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been this relaxed.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you relished the warmth spreading through your toes. “Who should I thank for starting this fire—you or your magic?” You made a vague gesture with your hands, wiggling your fingers as if you were casting a spell.

He chuckled quietly, moving to sit in the chair across from yours. “Neither. Thank the tinderbox that was left on the mantle.”

Propping yourself up with your elbow, you turned to face him, letting your dress drape over your hips. The knot at your neck loosened with every movement you made until you finally grew tired and pulled it free, shedding your cloak onto the sofa. Under any other circumstance, you would be scrambling to cover yourself. This was completely unlike you—to allow anyone other than your handmaid to see you like this. Harlot, your mother would say in her scolding tone, coupled with a scowl. But she wasn’t here—only Commander Ren.

“I find it hard to believe that you’re incapable of starting a fire, given everything else you can do.”

“Unfortunately, I was never any good at it,” he said, his eyes wandering to the golden flames. “Pyromancy, however, has always been one of my strongest suits.”

The conversation stalled for a moment as you watched his fingers glide over the armrest, hypnotized by the patterns he traced in the black velvet. His veins mingled with tendons as he moved—an intricate dance beneath his ivory skin. Somewhere deep within you, an ember flickered to life, its warmth spreading throughout your being. It was unusual, but not unwelcome.

“How can you do these things?” you asked, your voice floating through the air like the wisps of a dandelion.

He sighed, rolling his tongue over his teeth in thought. Finally, he said, “I was raised by witches.”

Your eyes widened—not in shock at his answer, but because he had answered at all. Rey’s words echoed in your mind. Commander Ren is a very private man.

“Witches? As in, multiple?”

He snickered softly. “Just two.”

“I see,” you whispered, watching him intently. There was something inherently alluring about him, an appeal that had drawn you in the instant you laid eyes on his portrait. An indescribable—yet persisting—quality. A charm.

After the success of your first question, you found the courage to pose another. “What were they like?”

A beat passed before he spoke, unease filling your stomach as you waited. The look in his eyes told you that your valiant effort was in vain. “What else did the handmaid tell you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his seat.

His words hit your chest like a thousand stones, shattering your confidence. Rey had warned you—begged you—to not discuss the matter of the Commander, fearing the consequences awaiting her if she did. Guilt crashed into you.

“Nothing. She said nothing else,” you stammered, pushing yourself up to a sitting position. With pleading eyes, you turned to him. “I swear it by all the gods.”

Ren stood to his feet, shushing you as he strode toward you. “There’s no need to call upon the gods, dear. I believe you.” His long fingers caressed your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. “I also believe that the girl is sensible enough to want to keep her head attached to her body. You asked her about me, didn’t you?”

Your heart slammed into your ribs, as if it were attempting to leap out and crawl into Ren’s hands. There was no use in arguing—he already knew the truth. The outcome of your fate depended on any ounce of respect you could earn from him. Lying now would be a disservice to everyone involved.

“Yes, I admit, I asked her to tell me what she knew of you, but she refused. It was only after I continued pressing the matter that she finally answered. Please, have mercy on her, she is innocent–”

He silenced you by pressing a finger against your lips. “If I beheaded every servant who spoke ill of me, the castle would be swept by ghosts.”

You said nothing, an unspoken understanding passing between you. While you believed him, there was also validity in Rey’s fear. Even the servant boy cowered in his presence. If one thing were true in this life, it was that rumors carried weight, and at times, merit.

“Why do they fear you so much?” you asked as his thumb brushed over your chin.

Ren let out a long sigh as he ran his fingers down your neck, pausing at your pulse point. “People fear what they do not understand.”

The air grew thick in the silence. A familiar sensation embraced you, igniting every fiber of your being under his touch. Much like the fire in front of you, the ember in your belly became an inferno. Your gaze fell to his pillowy lips, imagining what they would feel like against yours—what they would feel like on every inch of your skin. As soft as sin, probably. His eyes were coals, twinkling in the amber light, a tell that your thoughts were not as quiet as you had hoped.

“What do you fear most, darling?” he asked, his voice low and inviting. “I imagine that a woman like yourself doesn’t fear much, but everyone has their weakness.” He tilted your head slightly to the side, eyes wandering down your neck. “What is yours?”

Blood rushed in your ears, making you dizzy. Through the haze in your mind, a tiny voice broke through, begging you to resist him—resist the urge to bend to his will. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to barricade your thoughts, and as his eyes bore into yours, irises now a deep shade of red, his devilry won.

“Purpose.” The word passed through your lips like a specter, carrying a cadence that was foreign to your ears. “I fear a life without purpose.”

Satisfaction radiated off of Ren. “I see. And that is exactly why you were the only survivor.” He stretched his hand over your throat, applying gentle pressure to either side of your neck. The rhythmic drumming of your heart pulsed through his fingertips. “Because your purpose is so much greater than serving the Resistance.”

“What do you believe my purpose is, Commander?”

The backlight of the hearth cast a halo around him, deifying him. Ignoring your inquiry, he said, “The night is almost over. I suggest you get some rest.”

With that, he left you, somehow more cold and alone than you had been before. As the latch clicked shut, the haze lifted, quickly replaced by dread. Your vision tunneled on the fire in front of you, the black edges snuffing out your surroundings, narrowing your view to only the flames dancing over the logs.

As you stood from the lounge, your knees buckled, forcing you to summon all your strength to reach the bed before collapsing. Chest heaving, you stared up at the canopy, hoping to find anything but flecks of light dancing across your eyes. The voice in your head was shouting now, building to a deafening pitch, its message clear.

In the wake of his presence, two things remained: your distrust of Commander Ren and the strange warmth that had settled in your stomach.

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write-and-wander · 9 months

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Touch: Epilogue

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Non-canon AU

Word count: 1K

Author’s note: As much as I loved the ending of the last chapter, I can't resist a little epilogue to show where I imagine things would go in my version of the sequels.

(Part 1)

(Part 2)

(Part 3)

(Part 4)

(Part 5)

(Part 6)

(Part 7)

Epilogue: Future's Path

“General Kenobi?” You hear Poe call out to you.

“Be there in five!” you call back, looking back down to your journal. It’s been a while since your last entry, and you just wanted to finish recording things before The Path Forward’s first meeting for Project Rebuild. With a deep breath, you think back on all that has transpired since the Final Victory.

The first order of business was to repair what had been broken. For the Path- which, at the time, was still the Resistance- that meant tending to the wreckage of the bases we had built in the past. They settled on rebuilding in D’Qar as, for most of those who stayed after the Victory, it felt like home. Though many people left the Resistance after that final battle was won, feeling satisfied with having achieved what they had set out to accomplish, some still remained, determining that the work was not yet finished. Those that stayed reached out to those that left and other allies to raise funds and gather supplies, and while the Resistance itself was gone, the spirit of working together to make the galaxy a better place yet remained. We all had managed to gather enough not just to rebuild the base we once had, but to also improve upon it with the hope that future generations would be using this place to continue to strive for better. In fact, reconstruction and renovation just came to completion- hence the meeting I’m about to attend.

General Dameron seamlessly took over the Path after the Victory. Those of us who joined prior to Leia’s passing knew that it was exactly what she would have wanted- and seeing him lead now confirmed that it was for good reason. He really was the perfect choice for the head of the organization. Poe, having grown up with the group and being- well, himself- made for a natural leader. While some members, new and old alike, still disagree with the risks he’s willing to take, it’s hard to argue against his decisions when they always seem to work out. I don’t want to discount his natural talents, but I also believe that none of it would be possible without the force’s favor over him. Regardless, he really is the best we’ve got.

General Storm would agree with me- and, being as force sensitive as he is, I trust his word (admittedly, sometimes more than I trust my own). Finn’s wisdom is unparalleled, and his bravery and even head makes for a perfect counterpart to General Dameron. I’m still getting used to calling him General Storm; it was the last name he had taken for himself while Ben, Poe, and I were working out logistics for the Path. We were shocked when it was the first name he offered for himself, being a reference to his time with the First Order as a Stormtrooper. However, he said it best himself: “It’s who I am. It can always mean something new.” It was a short deliberation, then, on how we would be referring to Finn upon his promotion to General: ‘Storm’ it was. Shortly after, Rey took the same sort of inspiration, having found out the truth of her past- though, there was no concern about a proper title, as she would not be stepping up into any sort of leadership for the Path.

Now make no mistake, Rey was still working in a close alliance with the Path- which I believe is at least in part due to General Storm. Instead, she had also taken on her own mantle moving forward. She had kept both Luke and Leia’s sabers, as well as some of the ancient Jedi texts- which, I just recently learned, were otherwise turned to ash on Ahch-To by Jedi Master Yoda; meaning that the ever-resourceful scavenger managed to recover some before the fiery incident. With those few relics, she determined that the Jedi tradition should not so easily die. She decided to try again what Luke had failed to do in his lifetime- rebuild the Jedi Order. While we disagreed with her decision, we’ve also decided to respect it; with the caveat that the Path would be keeping a close eye on her new Order. Understanding the hesitation and wanting to be held accountable for the sake of the galaxy’s security moving forward, she easily accepted the conditions.

General Solo- my beloved Ben- took a similar path for himself. While he was more invested in the Path than Rey was- enough to be given a proper title and position- he also still pursued more, taking the last words of his uncle to heart. Actually, it’s a project we’ve both been working on for a while now. We want to forge a new future; to pave a new path for those who are strong with the force. It will be a way of balance, where the dark cannot exist without the light, both in the galaxy and within ourselves. We hope to honor our ancestors with the work we do- and, having taken advantage of the presence of their force ghosts to seek out guidance from them, we can confidently say that we’re off to a good start. Together, we began to teach new, young force-wielders what true balance and harmony with the force might look like, and how one can harness the power within that.

Finally, both sides of the force are intertwined into one, just as intended; and to think it all began when the light first touched the darkness.

You jump at the sound of the door opening, but relax when you see Ben walking in.

“If you show up any later, they might think you’re nervous,” he teases.

“Nervous?” you scoff, “Never.”

Ben laughs. “The journal can wait, my light,” he says with a kiss to your temple. You stand.

“There’s just so much to record, I wanted to at least start-”

“Will you two stop making out in here?” Poe butts in, “We’ve got a project to start.”

You laugh and give Ben a kiss. “Okay,” you say, taking a deep breath.

Ben grabs your hand. “Together?”

You nod as you both follow Poe to the meeting room. “Together.”

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queer-starwars-bracket · 1 year

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Queer Star Wars Characters (Round 1): Well Known Characters Match 12

Orka | Identity: mlm | Media: Star Wars Resistance

Ork and his romantic partner Flix ran the Office of Acquisitions on the Colossus, bringing them into frequent contact with the shenanigans of Kazuda Xiono when he purchases parts for his employer. They are part of the wider ensemble cast of the show, forming the loose found family you often get in cartoons set in small towns. Compared to his partner, Orka is the more brash and aggressive of the pair.

In Resistance’s short run, there was no Orka-centric episode. However in Flix’s backstory episode, Flix’s family is shown to be supportive of their relationship, even if they aren’t supportive of Flix leaving the family business and fuel refinery.

If you don’t count Kallus and Zeb, Flix and Orka are the first queer characters in a Star Wars TV show. In fact, if it wasn’t for outside clarification, they have the same level of textual support, which played a large part in the decision to include Kallus and Zeb.

Vi Moradi | Identity: aro/ace | Media: Galaxy’s Edge

Vi Moradi is the first and so far only character who originated in Star Wars publishing to appear in the Disney parks. A Resistance spy, she was created for the novel Phasma. Leia Organa tasked her with uncovering the backstories of prominent First Order members. Her interrogation by the First Order stormtrooper trainer Cardinal serves as the frame narrative for the novel. It ends with Cardinal realizing that the values he thought he was serving with the First Order was false and the cruelty of Phasma is its true face. He helps his former captive escape, being injured on the way.

While Deliah S. Dawson was writing Vi Moradi, the imagineers decided to use her as a character in Galaxy’s Edge. Thus she came back for the novel Galaxy’s Edge Blackspire where she and Cardinal are forced to work together to create a Resistance base on Batuu, cut off from any wider support. The novel is a rare accurate depiction of the PTSD and disability that comes from torture. It also established VI as the first aro/ace character in Star Wars.

Vi is both a very skilled spy and organizer, good at bringing out the strength of people around her. She is a walk-around character in the park, acting out the same storyline about Kylo Ren arriving on Batuu every day, improvising based on guest interaction. Getting to talk to her was my favorite moments of my visits to Galaxy’s Edge.

#star wars #sw #sw galaxy's edge #sw resistance #orka #vi moradi

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lackingspace · 1 year

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Lesson in Silence (Kylo Ren X Reader X Knights)

Lesson 4

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Just reader having a semi-panic attack and all that would entail. Nothing really graphic.

Author note: I bet you'd thought you'd seen the last of star wars. Surprise.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

AO3 Link: Lesson 4

Prev Ch: Lesson 3

Recap: He pulled his hand away and pried your grip off him before pushing away, "It's a threat." Your back was still glued to the wall as he slowly backed away. You couldn't move as you watched his form head to the same door his comrades had left. He stopped short of the door and spoke, "We'll see who you are," he hit the button to open the panel, "Arms technician."

Your head rocked back to rest against the wall as the door slid shut.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your eyes were locked to the spot Vicrul had briefly stopped before the durasteel concealed him. Breath sticking in your throat as sweat trickles down your back all the while anticipation making a home on your insides. An altogether unpleasant sensation that had your stomach clenched tight waiting for something– anything, to happen. Your heart pitter-pattering out of control with the mix of apprehension and the heat Vicrul left burning beneath it all.

After a time of standing there, back glued to the wall with bated breath sure that there was something else to come, nothing came. You didn't want to trust it. Today was the worst day you'd had in a long while, so why wouldn't the force turn from bad to worse. But nothing happened…at least not yet.

You were more than half expecting that all three of the knights were about to walk back in any second. They'd reveal this was some sort of elaborate ploy for their amusement and that they'd known what you were the moment you'd walked into the gym.

Better yet, maybe it was taking so long because they'd left only to gather with their entire ensemble, Commander Ren included, before they stormed back into the gym to split you open. Both figuratively and literally. Dissecting any and all information the commander deemed of interest.

The thoughts floated through your scattered brain, kicking your slowly calming panic back to life. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt that the master of the knights of Ren would find the things inside your head very interesting.

You couldn't help but imagine his wrath. Breath hitching and eyes widened as your mind warred with itself. If you stayed glued to this wall and they came back, there wouldn't be anything pleasant about that interaction. Trying to convince your muscles they weren't made of stone wasn't working. Likely a form of shock mixed with the still present fear and anxiety. Mind split between rational thinking and the conjured scenario of being cornered again.

Commander Ren would probably look at you with a little less hatred than an actual Jedi– or worse, a resistance member. But being Jedi adjacent, no matter that the association was outside of your control, he'd surely still consider that an offense punishable by death.

A shiver ran down your spine, dampening some of the residual heat Vicrul had left coursing through your blood. Your eyes fluttered closed thinking of the said knight.

You'd misjudged him– Grossly misjudged him. It made your skin crawl to think that you'd essentially walked straight into the proverbial krayt dragon's mouth on a silver platter. You could be stupid, like anyone else, but this was by far the most careless you'd been in years.

It didn't matter that the threat of the Commander clouded your judgment. At least, it shouldn't have. Your master's voice hissed in the back of your mind of how weak you were. Clenching a fist had her voice die, but she was right. Misdirection was your greatest asset, a cloak you wore daily. You should have recognized the way the force dripped off of him. Force influencing your feelings should have been another red flag of the danger he posed.

Jaw clenching as a taunting imitation of your master's cruel laughter rang in the back of your consciousness. You hadn't realized he was a walking death sentence and instead, you'd fawned over him like a schoolgirl. If you could be that inaccurate with an apprentice…had you also misjudged their master?

Throttling your force presence made everything feel muted…like you were moving through the world with a blanket of fog obscuring things that used to be sharp-edged. Could your senses have dulled more than you'd realized? Teeth grinding as you questioned everything. Was your assessment of the Commander even close?

If he was a master of the art, he could have slipped in unnoticed or disguised his true intentions with a lazy mental touch. Your chest tightened and blood chilled– he was the master of the Knights of Ren, a Sith. He was lethal, deadly, manipulative..it was more than plausible…but your gut instinct, the force within you, didn't sit right.

There was only ever one person that had slipped into your mind so masterfully. You'd never felt his breach, any caress, or pushing against your mental shields. You'd only heard the sound of his voice and felt the way his presence spread like poison. Clenching your eyes hard in an attempt to stifle that train of thought. You didn't need to rouse his attention and you'd had enough for today.

No, you were sure the Commander hadn't felt sinister when he'd brushed against you. The way he'd caressed your mental boundaries wasn't unpleasant either. There was a grace in the way it washed over you even. He'd distinctly felt like a lothcat at one point, but a nexu was probably a better description. Grace, dexterity, power. That fits the Commander, he even had a nexu's temper.

The way he'd pressed against you hadn't even felt suspicious or invasive. He was amused more than anything else, especially with what you'd thought about Vicrul. There wasn't anything to indicate that he suspected you of anything beyond being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Besides, if the others also suspected you then why leave you alone? Majority rule and all that. They risked the chance of letting you slip away.… Unless they wanted to see what you'd do? Where you'd go or who you'd contact…

If you were in their place it'd be a good tactic if you were suspected to be a member of a larger group, like the rebels. It hadn't felt like they were suspicious of you for that particular crime. But the Commander had made Vicrul test you for something…

Forehead wrinkled in thought, he'd certainly asked his apprentice to push you…but from the crackling delight, you'd felt it came off more of a jab for amusement than to actually assess you for allegiance. Maybe that was more of a test for Vicrul than you. He hadn't realized what the swirling of the force around you meant…and Cardo had said the Commander taught him to influence other's emotions. Maybe that was more recent than you realized.

Your muscles were slowly starting to relax from their rigidness. Either way, whatever the commander's reasons for testing you, his temper hadn't flared. Of that you were certain. Even muted, you'd been drowned in his waves of rage before. Your master had constantly condemned you for how emotional you were, but she would have deemed the Commander a lost cause. He never held back or masked his anger– but then why would he, being Sith? It was power after all.

Your mind began to settle. You could trust his rage. If he'd broached the inner workings of your mind, he wouldn't have been able to conceal the spike of rage that would have rolled off him. Which meant those nerve-tingling caresses were as deep as he'd dug. Vicrul was the special case with his damned sensitivity. Either of you would make a good example of how the force was nuanced– spawning different affinities for interaction and interpretation.

Although, his parting threat more than ensured he'd reveal his suspicion at some point– whatever those suspicions were. So if he hadn't snitched yet, there was only a finite amount of time before the Commander heard something about you.

It'd be beyond foolish to think he'd keep something like that from his master for long. Even if by some stroke of luck he held back, master's had a way of pulling things from their apprentices. You'd know.

Once it came to light, you wouldn't have to question if the Commander had peeked into your mind, he'd slice it open. You could see it now– being dragged into some nondescript interrogation room, Commander Ren prying into you in every way possible until you were no more than a broken thing at his feet.

He'd reel all the information you'd buried into the depths of your mind back to the surface. Picking you apart until he found exactly what made you tick.

Once the Commander saw what you'd hidden away, you couldn't imagine him leaving you alive. Too much of a threat for that.

Your overactive mind, or the force, provided a vivid image of the scene. The Commander would be towering and massive, flanked by Vicrul. Your thighs clenched, somehow Vicrul looked even more delicious standing next to his master.

There was a cocktail of anticipation and thrill that swirled in your gut. An exasperated sigh left your parted lips. The shock and fear were finally subsiding, but something far worse and more moronic was taking its place- lust.

The idea of dark leathers wrapped around an even darker presence had heat slithering back into your lower stomach. The image of master and apprentice sparked goosebumps along your arms and it wasn't from fear. The knight really must have knocked something loose in your brain or you really needed to get laid.

Damn, Vicrul. The thought didn't hold any real conviction, just a resignation that served to pull you away from the panic-driven scenarios and back into reality. At least there was no one storming in. You still had your freedom– for now.

The adrenaline had finally puttered out, muscles no longer locked up. Letting yourself fully sag back against the wall until you slid down into a heap on the floor. The hum of silence was your only companion as you tried to decide your next move.

There were going to be more moments like this. Even if Vicrul hadn't been here today, Cardo would have picked up the slack to make your life hell. Now that he knew who you were, he would have come knocking on the armory door at some point. At least you wouldn't have had this lust-addled brain.

Tilting your head back to rest against the wall as your gaze lifted to the barren durasteel ceiling. A sense of unease settled through you at the empty chill of the room and your thoughts.

Being in the First Order had always been risky. You knew that. It'd been something you'd considered and still made the decision that it was the best option.

Master's first lesson reared its head– safety was a lie. For as much disdain you held for her, the lessons she imparted were begrudgingly relevant.

Vicrul had only reminded you of that fact. He'd noticed you in a way no one else would have. As muted as you were, he'd still felt the subtle pull you gave off. The slightest current shift within a moving stream. Your jaw clenched as frustration spiked, fuck him.

Poor choice of words on your part because your thighs clenched tight. You really would have fucked him if that's where it went after Cardo and Trudgen left. Even knowing he wouldn't drop this, not with the need for answers you sparked. You would have let him bend you whichever way he liked. Still would.

If he made good on his promise– threat– you'd ask for more. A nagging feeling told you he'd be able to satisfy you. An itch you weren't aware needed scratching until he was directing you to it.

Knocking your head softly against the wall at the sentiment. As true as it may be, you didn't need to focus on that. Master would have struck you down herself had she been here. Especially if she knew how eagerly you'd spread your legs for someone like him.

The thought had a sense of acceptance slowly unfurled in your chest. You were always her greatest failure, at least you were still consistent in that. Fist clenching as you really tried to feel bad about how many lines you'd crossed, lessons ignored, and discipline abandoned in your dance with the three knights.

There wasn't anything you could change about what you'd done. Shouldn't be sitting here focusing on it so much. All you could do was figure out where to go. With the burning between your thighs and clenched thighs, it'd probably be in your best interest to get laid as soon as possible. You'd still fuck Vicrul if he offered, but at least you'd have a clearer head.

There were a few different partners you had on the station. Nothing serious or particularly satisfying, but it'd take the edge off. You'd need to be as alert as you could for whenever your next run-in might be. Leaving base wasn't an option at this point. At least not something as drastic as stealing a ship and skipping to the next system.

No, your loud mouth stole that option. It'd be too odd if you were suddenly gone. Even if it was just Cardo seeking you out for a new mod, you couldn't just be gone. They'd know something was off. Especially if Albrekh couldn't reach you. That'd be the equivalent of you admitting something was worth hiding. They'd hunt you just for running.

You could request a transfer off base. Make up something about work relationships breaking down. Possible bad break up causing you to be inefficient or in a hostile environment….That route would take time though. Something you might not have, but you'd have to risk it if you'd wanted it believable.

There was no way Hux would approve your transfer as your work stood now. Gu'il wouldn't either. You'd need months to let your production suffer and appear disorganized. Small mistakes here and there causing your work quality to slip. Signs that you were under some kind of stress without causing too many red flags.

It could work if you played it right. It all hinged on being able to survive whatever came next with the knights.

The click of a fan humming to life cut through the buzzing silence as your mind settled on the plan. If you wanted a fighting chance, getting laid was your first course of action.

Who to pick though? You shuffled through your options mentally, pursing your lips. Fero was probably the best option. He was another arms technician, but typically worked the mid-shift.

You hadn't noticed him getting cozy with anyone recently, so he'd probably be open to a hook-up. The two of you were friendly and you'd made it clear it was just stress relief and he'd been fine with keeping it that way.

He'd probably still have a few more hours before shift end, but if you headed back to the shop you could work on the sniper like you'd wanted and then have a quickie if he was game for it.

Mind settled and emotions back in place, you pushed yourself up off the ground. You'd make a pit stop by the mess hall and grab something quick. You'd shoot Fero a message asking if he was at the shop or out on the station somewhere and go from there.

#fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars #kylo ren #kylo fanfic #kylo x reader #knights of ren #knights of ren x reader #Vicrul #knights of ren fanfiction #fics #sw fic

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mymoodwriting · 2 years

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this is not an ask but like i NEEDED to share this with you.

probably helps if you’ve seen star wars lol

imagine yandere sith park seonghwa…

Don't fucken start! Look I read something like that a while ago, a little short where the reader was a Jedi, and called him Hwaseong, and he was like Kylo Ren and he kidnapped her and imprisoned her and just fucked her right there and just don't! Force users already have mind control powers, and a sith boy... okay I am not gonna lie I have an idea about that floating in my head >_<

Like the idea of Seonghwa and the reader growing up together, but during the times of the Empire, and early on Seonghwa showed signs of being force sensitive, and was taken away. Years later he returns to his home planet as an Inquisitor and does reunite with his old friend, but things happen and they're revealed to be force sensitive as well, and obviously scared given what happened to Seonghwa, and what he'll most likely do to them. A little chase would ensue but as you can imagine, he's well trained while they're not, and they get dragged away and you know... why wouldn't he want like his own little padawan, not that that's a thing anymore >_<

Could do straight Sith boy finding a force sensitive person and just being like, mine, gosh now you've just added more fuel to the flames here...

#ask #bbymaven

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ao3feed--reylo · 1 year

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The Scavenger and her Prince

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/VjZOoh6

by ReyloScribbles

Ben Solo died on Exegol… but the Force wasn’t quite finished with him yet. A short while after the events of TRoS, Rey tracks him down in the World Between Worlds and brings him back to the living galaxy. Now, she finally has the chance to get to know her soulmate in the Force and cavort around the galaxy with him… the belonging she’d always wanted.

A series of connected stories following Rey’s journey to bring Ben Solo back and what comes afterward: adventures, fluff, finally getting to really know each other, and implied smut because I can’t write that shit well. (Or, a post-TRoS series that I’d beg LFL to take because I want to see this canon so badly)

Words: 7336, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars - All Media Types

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Characters: Rey (Star Wars), Ben Solo, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Finn (Star Wars), Rose Tico, Poe Dameron, BB-8 (Star Wars), R2-D2 (Star Wars)

Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren/Rey

Additional Tags: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, The Rise of Skywalker's ending hurt and here's how I cope, Happily Ever After, fluff with some plot, Fluff, POV Rey (Star Wars), Slight angst at the start but then there's none because these two deserve some PEACE, Cuddling & Snuggling, fluff and implied smut, because I can't write that well but use your imagination, These Two Need to Get Down, And they shall, Ben Solo Lives, Redeemed Ben Solo, Soft Ben Solo, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Shy Ben Solo (at first), Ben Solo is Han's son so he has sass, Sassy BB-8 (Star Wars), no betas we die like men, Canon-Typical Violence

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/VjZOoh6

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Star Wars #Star Wars Sequel Trilogy #Reylo #Rey #Ben Solo #Kylo Ren #AO3 #ne

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volatilekyber · 2 years

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FIRST ORDER DEFECTOR

The Last Jedi canon divergent.

After murdering his father, Ben found no solace in the dark side. In fact, the act of killing Han Solo did not bring him the promised sense of peace and understanding, nor did it take away the pain that had been threatening to tear Ben Solo, or what was left of him, asunder. In those final moments with his father, Kylo Ren thought he could kill Ben Solo once and for all. Imagine his agony when it did the complete opposite and only made it clearer that he was nowhere near the end of his suffering. In the time shortly after, Kylo sought solace on his own, and asked again to be counselled by those who had long been lost. Under the impression that Vader, Palpatine in disguise, had spoken to him before, he sought out his grandfather, frantic and guilt ridden. It was not, however, Vader that answered him. It was Anakin Skywalker.

Appearing as a force ghost, the former Jedi master revealed himself to his grandson, the first and only time he had done so. Their encounter was short and to the point, but it made sense of much that had confused young Ben and gave Kylo Ren answers had had been seeking, perhaps without even realizing it. Anakin told Ben everything - about his time as a Jedi, his fear, his love, his fall. About the suffering that he had endured, that the dark side had brought, not only to him, but to those he loved. And he told Ben what Luke had not - that in the final moments of his life, Anakin had chosen to save his son and murder the Emperor, not out of hatred for his master but out of love for the boy he did not ever have a chance to know.

Anakin could not undo all that he had done, or hope to redeem himself in the eyes of the galaxy, but he did stop the horror, and for Luke, that was enough. This was the tale Ben Solo so desperately needed to be told. There was no peace and feeling of being whole in the dark side and he would never be rid of the pain, of the draw of the light because that was in fact, his natural state, and something he would always struggle to suppress, no matter what evils he committed. Kylo Ren died during that conversation. Convinced by his grandfather to go to Rey, he did, and while he kept up the ruse long enough to kill Snoke and free himself from his abuser, he did take Rey's hand, and together they escaped. Ben Solo returned with Rey to be greeted by his mother and the resistance, only a few of whom knew his true story. Finally back where he belonged, Ben and Rey, a dyad in the force, prepared to face the First Order and eventually Palpatine, together.

ft. @ofthclight as Rey and Leia.

#crait still happens but differently #feel free to ask for details

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ninjapotatohead · 2 years

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Sonic Chronicles, a Sonic RPG from Bioware back when they still had a perfect reputation & is the closest we got to a game based on the comics continuity. It got B's & 80%s from various review sites & magazines. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh God it hurts, please make the hurting stop.

Here's 3 quick facts about me: A. I can play Sonic games B. I can play RPG C. I can't play rhythm games to save my life

Which of these 3 facts would you say is the most important to playing a Sonic RPG? Well it turns out the answer is C because every damn attack & spell requires the player to do some Elite Beat Agents bullshit to work. Made worse that the you-did-it-wrong sound effect sounded more like a you-did-it-right SFX to me, so I didn't realize how badly I was screwing up for the longest time.

In fact, the audio top to bottom is just terrible Shadow's "voice" is the falling-down-the-tube SFX from Sonic Spinball. & the music, Hoolee Moolee the music. Apparently Bioware ran into legal issues with their soundtrack in the 11th hour or some other shit & at the last minute replaced most of the tracks with MIDIs from a fan site. The results weren't pretty.

Story is.............ok. To Bioware's credit, they've done some homework & tied previously unconnected threads from multiple past games together to form this game's backstory & this was probably the last time any Sonic game remembered the Master Emerald. However, some of these callbacks don't really amount to much in the long run. OK, so the Dark Brotherhood built the Gizoids from Sonic Battle, what of it? The gizoids in the game might just as well have elite Brotherhood troops for all the difference it makes. If Gemerl from Advance 3 made an appearance they could've gone somewhere with it but he doesn't so nevermind.

Speaking of the Dark Brotherhood, the other disappointment is that this is like the only Sonic game to incorporate elements from the archie comics canon, except not really. Instead of the Dark Legion/Julie Su/Dimitri, SC has the store brand knock-offs Dark Brotherhood/Shade/Ix. It's like getting Kylo Ren instead of Jacen Solo. I hate to imagine a sequel having substitute Freedom Fighters if Bioware kept going.

Dialogue choices seem to be there for the sake of Bioware tradition, not to actually add anything of note. You can either choose from sarcastic Sonic or serious Sonic, but the results the same regardless. This probably would've been a better game to work in a custom player avatar instead of Forces, Bioware at least could've done more with it. Tails is so insufferable about reminding the player to save the game, he continues to do it even after telling him to stop. That's how inconsequential choices are.

Stats are so weirdly implemented. Damage output is not a visible stat, you can equipped items that increase your damage but they don't show by how much. There's an "Attack" stat that you can see, but it actually refers to the attack's accuracy, which I didn't know for the longest time & was hella confused at why I was doing so little damage. You give party members protection from different elemental attacks, but there is no single enemy in the whole game that even deals any sort of elemental damage so the shields are pointless.

In short, it's a game where every facet of it fails. Crap graphics, terrible audio, lousy controls, half-assed gameplay, weak story, & a cliffhanger ending that'll never get resolved thanks to a lawsuit from a dumbass ex-writer. It may not be the worst Sonic game ever but it was the 1 that broke my heart the most.

Though, to be fair, Chronicles also sold like shit. If memory serves me, there were special "Viral" Chao that were supposed to be given out at special events, but they never were due to poor attendance from the players.

Chronicles is only just barely passable as "baby's first RPG", but it's when the game is shown to someone who's played many better RPGs that the game's many glaring flaws are laid bare for all to see.

#spud's inbox #sonic series #sonic chronicles

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zhwj · 10 months

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The Stealth Cinematic Adaptation of Peach Blossom Girl 桃花女

(This post was originally appeared as a Twitter thread on 14 October 2020 and is reproduced here with minor edits.)

I’d like to talk briefly about my favorite of the live-action Disney adaptations of Chinese folk tales: the story of the Peach Blossom Girl’s defeat of the Duke of Zhou in a battle of magic, adapted, of course, into the Star Wars sequel trilogy. (No, not really. But I was struck by the similarities while watching The Rise of Skywalker, and I’d like to imagine that some of the films’ more perplexing narrative choices are in fact a consequence of adapting a centuries-old folktale into a sprawling space opera.)

A summary for those unfamiliar with the tale: Zhougong 周公, the Duke of Zhou, is associated with the Book of Changes, oneiromancy, and other mantic techniques. In this story, he runs a divination shop, and for 30 years has never been wrong (he’s got a money-back guarantee). Then his predictions begin to fail. He foresees a widow’s merchant son, Shi Zongfu 石宗辅, dying in a pit, but the man returns home safely; he predicts that his servant Pengjian 彭剪 will die in three days, but instead his life is extended. Infuriated, Zhougong quits the business.

His nemesis turns out to be Taohua nü 桃花女, the Peach Blossom Girl, a local teenager who not only excels him in divination but is also a sorcerer who can manipulate fate. He vows revenge. Forcing her to marry his son on an ill-omened day, he calls on deities to kill her.

She beats him at every turn: counters his curses, tricks a tiger spirit into killing his daughter (whom she later resurrects), and even arranges her own resurrection after he attacks the peach tree holding her life essence. Each humiliating defeat only enrages him further. The feud culminates in Zhougong’s death, but at his household’s request, Taohua revives him.

I've taken most of the details in this summary from a short novel of uncertain authorship, 桃花女阴阳斗传 (Taohua’s Battle of Yin and Yang, among other titles), published in 1848, which casts the story into the shenmo 神魔 “gods and demons” mode. But the story exists in many forms.

The earliest in print is a Yuan dynasty zaju play attributed to Wang Ye 王晔, found in Ming collections under the title “Taohua, adept in the yin-yang trigrams” 讲阴阳八卦桃花女 (脉望馆 version) or “Taohua defeats magic, marries Zhougong” 桃花女破法嫁周公 (元曲选 version).

“Miss Irisation breaks the plum formation” 云来姐巧破梅花阵 from the late Ming collection 贪欣误 tells the same tale using different character names.

In the story “Taohua fights using magic” 桃花女斗法, in the 1846 zhiguai collection 闻见异辞, the two fight with bees, tigers, and spiders.

There’s also a wide range of local operas and folk ballads, as well as a proliferation of 20th century adaptations into different media.

Turning to the Star Wars sequels, we can recognize the major characters at once, although existing canon did force some minor tweaks.

◎ Kylo Ren is Zhougong. Born into a noble family and trained in divination from a young age, Zhougong sets out on his own when the royal court rejects his counsel. He’s arrogant and vindictive, and he cares more for proving his dominance than for the lives of people close to him.

◎ Rey is Taohua. Born to commoners, she lives in seclusion until her late teens, when compassion for her neighbors moves her to use her talents, attracting Zhougong’s attention. She wields a peach branch that expands into a halberd, preserved in the film as Rey’s staff.

◎ Finn is Shi Zongfu, a merchant traveling far from home who is saved from certain death by Taohua’s intervention. The first half of the novel is largely his story, but after he demands compensation from Zhougong for the inaccurate prediction of his death, he drops out of the narrative altogether.

In a 1957 lianhuanhua retelling that recasts the tale as one of class struggle, Shi (here known as Shi Ji) is fleeing a forced labor corps when Taohua rescues him. They fight against Zhougong’s cruel, exploitative regime as a romantic pair. (Read it online.)

◎ Pengjian, Zhougong’s servant, doesn’t have an exact counterpart. Using the spells Taohua taught him, not only does he escape immediate death, he also extracts an additional 850 years of life from stellar deities, becoming Peng Zu 彭祖, an enduring symbol of longevity.

Star Wars’ resident multicentenarian, Yoda, is unfortunately of the wrong alignment and, by the sequel trilogy, already dead. After Taohua saves him, Pengjian acts on her behalf and betrays Zhougong’s schemes—Hux, basically. Like Yoda and Hux, Pengjian is a comic character.

◎ To trap Taohua, Zhougong invokes the Black Killer 黑煞, a powerful protector god. Taohua counters by invoking the Red Killer 红煞. The two gods neutralize each other but agree not to actively interfere in the fight between Zhougong and Taohua.

Instead of pitting the two champions head-to-head, The Last Jedi time-shifts the confrontation: as the Black Killer, Snoke’s big moment is getting killed off, while Luke, the Red Killer, responds to a cry for help by deflecting an attack with his enlightened nonviolence.

◎ As it turns out, Taohua isn’t a nobody—she’s really an immortal sent to stop Zhougong from revealing too many secrets. The two are a divine pair—a yin-yang dyad, if you will, avatars of a knife and sheath lost when the god Zhenwu disemboweled himself in a purification ritual.

The Daoist god Zhenwu 真武, the “perfect warrior,” is also known as Xuanwu 玄武 “dark warrior” and has the title 玄天上帝 “high emperor of the dark heavens.” He’s identified with the god of the north, Heidi 黑帝, the “black emperor.” Here’s an appearance over Mt. Wudang in 1413:

Zhenwu isn’t in all versions of the tale, but if the trilogy must have a final boss, he’s the only logical choice—even if the moral dualism of the Star Wars universe requires him to be evil. The films’ lineage of evil black-robed mages practically demands the Emperor’s return. Palpatine’s death in the original trilogy isn’t a problem, either. Zhenwu has many incarnations—at one point in the late Ming novel Journey to the North 北游记, he’s killed by the avatar of the spirit of Guan Yu’s glaive, and his companions have him resurrected to continue his mission.

When it comes to ending the story, It can’t be denied that the adaptation does stumble a bit.

① Shock reveals.

Like other literary adaptations of the period based on well-known folk myths, the novel opens with background on Taohua and Zhougong and their relationship to Zhenwu. Play audiences would have been familiar with their roles as well, so Zhenwu’s abrupt appearance on the last page of the 脉望馆 edition to reclaim his charges wouldn’t have come out of nowhere. (The 元曲选 edit omits the god altogether and never clearly explains the source of Taohua’s power.) By moving the core story to an unfamiliar setting in a galaxy far, far away, the adaptation can’t rely on shared cultural knowledge, meaning a long-dead villain’s unheralded return or a reversal where a character who’s been a nobody for most of the story turns out to be the chosen one feel contrived and unearned.

② The overstuffed ending.

After Zhougong’s total humiliation, there are lots of options for the folktale’s conclusion. In some, Taohua accepts marriage into a humbled Zhougong’s house; in others, he keeps battling her until the gods intervene. Here’s a comparison of the two versions of the scene following Zhougong’s resurrection

From the Yuan play:

　　　　(Zhougong and his children rise.) 　　　　TAOHUA Zhougong, why aren’t you counting trigrams? 　　　　ZHOUGONG Don’t you mock me, too. I’ve got to tell you, Taohua, today I was convinced my magic was great, but I never imagined yours would be greater still, a hundred times greater than mine. I never had a chance of beating you. Come, be my daughter-in-law and you won’t suffer by it. Let’s have the wedding banquet today, and may there be harmony between our families. 　　　　TAOHUA Under the circumstances, harmony it is. 　　　　　　　　　　　　(From Act 4 of 脉望馆 edition)

From the Qing novel:

Zhougong’s soul returned to his corpse, and he flipped over and sat up on the ground. His eyes blazed hate at Taohua as he sprang up and seized his star-sword, shouting, “Halt, demon woman! You presume to recall my soul? I swear on my life to put you to death!” He advanced on her with his sword. Taohua pulled the compliant peach branch from her silk bag and blocked him. “This is the thanks I get for saving your life, Zhou Qian? You think you can bully me?” Again he swung his sword, but she dodged and parried with her branch, yin and yang clashing in the great hall. [. . .] Zhougong and Taohua fought from the doorway to the courtyard, but the space was too cramped to use their full powers, so they mounted clouds and battled each other into the air. [. . .] Everyone else watched them from the ground. Wreathed in rosy clouds, they waged a savage battle in the sky, receding into the distance until they finally disappeared. [. . .] The fight reached a fever pitch as they tapped every skill they possessed. The roar and thunder of their struggle alerted the Grand Coordinator-Censor who, noticing the ferocity of their fight and their proximity to the North Gate of Heaven, hurried to inform the high emperor of the dark heavens, Zhenwu. The emperor peered through his wisdom eye and understood all that had happened. He dispatched general Tortoise and general Snake to bring the two to him. 　　　　　　　　　　　　(From Chapter 16)

Having Taohua and Zhougong reconcile after she’s put him in his place (and reversed all his harm) makes sense in a wedding comedy meant to create an origin story for rites and taboos and to subvert the trope of the passive, reluctant bride. The novel is more fascinated with the magical duel. It replaces Zhougong’s contrition with a heavenly intervention, recalling the two from the mortal realm and binding them to their celestial duties with a golden elixir that will dissolve their bodies if they stray again.

The film adaptation combines the two endings, working a quick redemption for Kylo (and reconciliation with Rey) into the same epic battle that leads to what’s more or less an exit from the mortal realm—him into death, her to the isolated home of her mentor and protector. The two versions of the story aren’t really compatible, and by attempting both, the film doesn’t make either convincing.

As an aside, one odd thing about the folktale is that while the Taohua and Zhougong are clearly the central dramatic pairing, age and propriety mean the marriage proposal is made on behalf of his son, who barely appears. In the Yuan play, he has no lines and comes on stage only to die. In the novel he doesn’t even exist: Zhougong only pretends to have a son. Most adaptations pair the two directly, such as this Taiwanese opera starring Xiao-mi 小咪 as a more sympathetic Zhougong and Huang Yang-hua 黄旸骅 as Taohua.

Which brings us to the next problem:

③ No songs!

To the novel’s assortment of incidental poems and plot-specific spells invoking various deities, the author adds an actual song to pass the time while Shi Zongfu’s mother is waiting to recite Taohua’s spell to call her son out of the deadly pit. And the dramas are chock full of tunes. Imagine if, in response to Kylo’s “Join me,” Rey were to launch into a version of the kiss-off song that’s Taohua’s answer to Zhougong’s marriage proposal (the text here is the more dramatic edit by Zang Maoxun 臧懋循 in 元曲选):

【笑和尚】我、我、我，不恋你居兰堂住画阁，我、我、我，不恋您列鼎食重裀卧，我、我、我，不恋您那雪花银三十个。（媒婆云）那周公算的好《周易》课，只有他家大官人晓得，再不传别人的。姐姐，你过门之后，他还要传这《周易》课与你哩。（正旦唱）他、他、他，论阴阳少讲习，我、我、我，论卦爻多参破，休、休、休，我根前，（做推媒婆跌科，唱）还卖弄甚么《周易》的课。　　　　TAOHUA 　　　　(singing) I, I, I don’t care about your halls and galleries. I, I, I don’t care about your life of luxury. I, I, I don’t care for the silver you say that you’ll give to me. 　　　　MATCHMAKER Zhougong’s Changes, mantic methods he alone has access to—Take his offer, join his house; he’ll gladly share that art with you. 　　　　TAOHUA He, he, he knows nothing of the craft of prophecy. I, I, I have mastered all the trigrams’ mysteries. Stop, stop, stop— 　　　　(pushes Matchmaker to the ground) Flogging those oversold, useless old Changes to me!

Or maybe not, considering that Star Wars as a franchise doesn’t have the greatest track record for songs sung by humans. Still, that’s just one of the countless ways to make a cross-genre adaptation of a folktale do justice to the original while also taking advantage of the huge canvas of a new fictional universe. The Taohua-Zhougong story is a small domestic drama, after all, without the sweeping scale of other shenmo quest or war novels. Grafting it onto a standard Star Wars climax retread shrinks the new universe rather than expanding the source material to fill the new space.

There’s bound to be a satisfying way to make all the elements work, although it would likely take some clever plotting to make the square peg of a wedding comedy for dueling Daoist immortals fit the round hole of a space station exhaust port. ■

——————————

This post is one reader’s take on the tale of Taohua and Zhougong. I’m not a specialist in Yuan theater, Daoism, or late imperial vernacular literature, so all corrections are welcome. You’re also free to challenge my misreading of Star Wars, but please know that I’m not especially interested.

Further reading

Vincent Durand-Dastès, “Divination, Fate Manipulation and Protective Knowledge In and Around ‘The Wedding of the Duke of Zhou and Peach Blossom Girl’, a Popular Myth of Late Imperial China” for more on the novel and its magical elements.

Variations of the Peach Blossom Girl myth are covered in a 2012 master’s thesis by Guo Fan 郭帆, 《“桃花女”故事研究》 ; There’s also a 1992 master’s thesis by Liu Huiping 刘惠萍, 《桃花女斗周公故事研究》 that I haven’t seen.

A cool 2008 PhD thesis on Zhenwu iconography by Noelle Giuffrida, “Representing the Daoist God Zhenwu, the Perfected Warrior, in Late Imperial China”.

Sources

Character woodcuts from the British Library’s copy of the 丹柱堂 reprint of the 1848 联益堂 edition of 桃花女阴阳斗传, as photoreproduced in 古本小说丛刊第四辑 (中华书局, 1990).

Illustration of Pengzu praying to the stars from 元曲选 digitized from the Harvard-Yenching collection.

Yuan zaju play: The 元曲选 version is readable on Gushiwen.org; the text of the 脉望馆 version isn’t online but the manuscript version is reproduced in 古本戏曲丛刊第4集第25册.

Zhenwu and the knife spirit image from the 1602 edition of 北方真武祖师玄天上帝出身志传 (北游记) reproduced in 故本小说集成 (上海古籍出版社), page 129.

Appearance over Wudang image from 大明玄天上帝瑞应图录 held by Bibliothèque Nationale, available online.

Book cover for 周公与桃花女 from the 1989 中国民间文艺出版社 title by by 张鹤龄 and 周成伟. 1957 lianhuanhua 桃花女 adapted by 江澄 and illustrated by 盛焕文 and 盛鹤年, published by 江苏人民出版社. Available online.

#Star Wars #Rise of Skywalker #Peach Blossom Girl #adaptation #shenmo #myths #The Last Jedi #zaju

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peterparkersnose · 3 years

Text

Stabbing for Fun

Kylo Ren Blurb

Kylo Ren highschool AU/Snippet

word count: 422

warnings: description of gore, kylo’s emo high school phase

a/n saw a prompt on tumblr a while ago but i cannot find it for the life of me. so sorry, credit acknowledged.

read time: 43 seconds

masterlist

You passed through the busy hallway of your High School, rushing towards the Headmaster's Office. You and your club of Space Equality Rights group needed permission to use the auditorium Friday night for a speech.

You open the office doors and see a kid from your first hour- you couldn't remember his name. The poor red headed kid was sitting in the nurse's office as she tried to remove a pair of scissors lodged in his hand. Yikes. You cringed and looked away, and met with the secretary.

"I'm here to see the Headmaster." you said with a smile on your face. She looked at you with the most monotone face you've ever seen. "You'll have to wait like everyone else. Take a seat." she sighed, reading her everyday phrase once again. You went to the chairs lined up against the wall, and was forced to sit in the only empty seat next to another boy.

He had long-ish black hair, ungodly amounts of eyeliner, black jeans, black sweater, and converse. He smelt of a cheap body spray which made you tense up. He looked at you in confusion. "What are you here for?" he rudely asked. You were shocked he even spoke to you. "Uh-I need to speak with the Headmaster about use of the auditorium Friday for-" "Oh. Don't care." he cut you off. You scoffed, and looked away. "I thought finally perfect Miss Y/N got in trouble for something." he said. Who the hell was this kid? "Oh, and what are you in here for?" you asked, crossing your arms.

The boy in the nurse's office finally came out, sniffling with a bandage around his hand. "Just don't look at him Armitage," the poor boy reminded himself, shuttering walking past this boy. The boy next to you had an ugly grin on his face. You gasped, connecting the dots. "You didn't-" "Ben Solo, the Headmaster will see you now." the secretary said, emerging from her office. "I go by Kylo now! Kylo Ren! You should have fixed that in your damn systems by now." he yelled at the secretary, kicking the side of her desk with his converse toe. "I don't get payed enough to care. The Headmaster will see you now, Kylo." she scoffed.

You watched him with wide eyes. He noticed that, and smirked at you. "What can I say? He deserved it." Kylo said shrugging, and walking smugly towards the Headmaster's office. Before entering the Headmaster’s door, he turned around to look at you once more. He winked, then the door shut behind him. A shutter went down your spine.

tag list

@dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x

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sweetrevxnge · 2 years

Text

Ghosts In The Snow

Chapter Four

Pairing: Vampire!Kylo Ren x Reader AU

Warnings: sexual content, violence, blood kink, gore, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Next Chapter

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 3.3k

Chapter-specific CW: excessive drinking, vomiting

A/N: "oh he's kinda cute... HE'S A MURDERER! but he's kinda cute..." -y/n

───────── ❅ 🦇 ❅ ─────────

“You’ve barely touched your food, dear.” Commander Ren’s low voice pulled you from your trance as you poked at the lamb shank on your plate. A fitting entrée for tonight.

“I haven’t much of an appetite,” you muttered, setting the silver fork down beside your dish. You were almost catatonic, and despite your contempt for him, you felt betrayed. It was for that reason that you hadn’t so much as looked in his direction since sitting down, instead choosing to study the other guests in the dining hall—including the stormtroopers stationed at every exit. It was an impossible task—you knew that—but you’d sooner die trying than comply with this farce of a treaty.

A low laugh rumbled in Ren’s chest. “I have no stomach for lamb either; it’s far too tender for my liking. Perhaps you would prefer venison? Or roasted vegetables?”

“No, thank you. Just wine will do,” you said as you tipped your cup back and gulped down the remaining liquid. You imagined you would need many more if you were going to endure this evening.

“If you insist.” He pushed his chair back and lifted his hand, summoning one of the servants. A boy with short, tawny hair rushed over, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Yes sir?” he asked meekly, his eyes darting between yours and the Commander’s. Although he stood with his shoulders back and chin high, his age was obvious from the fat in his face and the pitch of his voice. Anger boiled beneath your skin.

“Fetch more wine for my bride,” Ren instructed, nodding at you as he spoke. “And for me, as well.”

“Of course, sir.” The boy’s fear rolled off of him as he turned on his heels and disappeared into what you assumed was the kitchens.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why am I not surprised that the First Order uses children as servants?”

“Only those whose families owe us a debt. No different from the New Republic’s operations,” he said calmly, tapping the empty cup in his hand.

You shook your head slightly and turned back to your plate. “That’s hardly justification for continuing to do so.”

His eyes followed you as you watched the rest of the guests dine. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, either lost in conversation or filling their plates with the assortment of meats, cheeses, and fruits set out on the table—all but one. Across from you sat a red-haired man, with hollow cheeks and a scowl twisting his features. Given his proximity to the Supreme Leader, you assumed he was another commanding officer.

Beside him was a woman, but unlike the other ladies in the hall dressed in elaborate gowns, she was wearing the same regalia as the men. You furrowed your brows. Was she…? No, she couldn’t be.

Ren leaned in close to your ear, his cold lips brushing your skin. “Captain Phasma of Parnassos, to answer your question.”

His breath sent a shiver down your spine. “Get out of my head,” you snapped, your knuckles white around the body of the cup in your hand.

“How else am I to make conversation with you?”

You scoffed, redirecting your attention to the servant returning with a pitcher of wine in either hand. It was clear by his unsteady footing that the weight of both of them was nearly too much for his small arms.

As he approached the table, you reached for one of the decanters to save his shaking arms. "Thank you," you said, mustering up a smile. Gods knew the poor boy needed some kindness.

“No need, my lady,” he replied quietly, pouring the rich liquid into your cup before reaching for the other pitcher. “Commander…”

Ren presented his empty cup and nodded for the boy to fill it. He obeyed, pouring the dark wine with trembling hands. For such an ordinary exchange, the boy was tense, utterly frightened. Not that you could necessarily blame him.

Once it was full, he set the pitcher down between your plates and quickly returned to his post along the wall. In the hopes of quickening the evening, you finished the cup in a few sips, reaching for the pitcher beside your plate.

A gloved hand seizing your wrist stopped you before you could. “Careful, dear. You might find that mine is a bit too strong for your taste.”

Part of you wanted to try his wine out of defiance, but the rational part of you heeded his warning. With an empty stomach, your wine would be more than enough as it was. You pulled your hand free and reached for the other pitcher. As you poured it, you allowed yourself to feel everything—the anger, the disappointment. How Leia had seemed to so easily forget you. But beneath it all, there was still the ember of hope, buried under the weight of your emotions. It needed to be protected, locked away in the recesses of your mind until you could ignite it once more—until you were free. Once the cup was full, you returned it to its locked box, stowing it away for another time.

“You can’t ignore me forever, you know,” Ren said, taking a sip from his cup.

“I can try,” you countered, doing the same.

He exhaled softly. “I’m sure you will.”

Over the rim of your cup, you could see the red-haired man looking at you, his green eyes locked onto you. You wondered how long he had been watching.

Covering your mouth with your napkin, you asked, “Who is that man next to the captain?”

“That would be General Armitage Hux of Arkanis.”

You hummed. It wasn’t difficult to imagine such a seemingly pompous general coming from a place like Arkanis. “Does he always look so sour?”

Ren scoffed. “Usually less so. He’s been openly displeased about our arrangement.”

“Perhaps he and I have more in common than I realized,” you murmured.

“I think you’d find yourself more outraged with his proposition—gods know the Supreme Leader was,” he said with a light laugh, running a hand through his dark hair.

You cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

He mimicked you, raising his eyebrow in surprise. “Unless you would prefer to be wed to a bastard son.”

“I hardly see how that could be any worse.”

A hand resting on your shoulder immediately pulled you from the conversation. You recoiled, half-expecting it to be General Hux, slinking across the room while you were distracted. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“My sweeting, it is so lovely to finally meet you,” Supreme Leader Snoke said with an unnerving smile. His touch was cold—even through the fabric of your dress. It felt unnatural, as if he had been trapped in a winter storm for a week.

“Supreme Leader,” you replied, forcing down the bitter taste in your mouth. “What a pleasure.”

It had been over six years since he had murdered Chancellor Villecham, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at him. He was untouched by time—not that he was youthful by any means. Despite his age, there was no silver in his hair or deep creases in his face. Perhaps the wolf skin cloak over his shoulders served as his own personal fountain of youth.

Snoke let out a hoarse laugh, one seemingly loud enough to rattle the crystal chandeliers above. “The pleasure is mine. I take it you’ve found your new chambers more accommodating than your last?”

Rage streaked your vision. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he was trying to provoke you—as if you needed reminding that you were nothing more than a bargaining piece to the First Order.

“Yes, thank you for asking,” you replied, bowing your head slightly. “Though I must admit, I had grown rather fond of the rats.”

Snoke let out a short, unamused chuckle. “Such misunderstood creatures, they are.” His gray eyes narrowed as he spoke. He quickly shifted his attention to the man beside you, a wall of ice now standing between you. “My boy… I have faith that you will treat our guest well.” He squeezed Ren’s shoulder tightly, threateningly.

“Of course, Supreme Leader,” he said, the usual color in his voice absent.

“Good. I would hate to have to marry her to Armitage, should you disappoint.”

Ren’s eyes flashed with something akin to envy. “That won’t be necessary.”

Snoke grinned. “I should hope not.”

The air felt thick, as if the room had filled with smoke. You shifted in your seat as the two men stared at each other, locked in silence. Snoke lingered for a moment longer before finally releasing his grip on Ren’s shoulder.

“Please, do enjoy the celebration. The wedding will be held in a fortnight. I had hoped for it to be sooner, but we must allow ample time for our guests to arrive.”

His words fell on you like stones. It wasn’t enough time. A fortnight was hardly enough time to finalize battle strategies—let alone to devise an escape. The flame in your heart waned.

With that, the Supreme Leader crossed to the other side of the table to greet the other guests, starting with Captain Phasma of Parnassos.

Silence stretched between you and Ren, your minds occupied with different concerns. Habitually, you finished your wine and pushed the empty chalice away. “How long should I expect this evening to last?”

“Eager to leave, are we?” Ren teased, taking the liberty of refilling your cup. “It might be wise to eat something. Celebrations like these have a tendency to be drawn out.”

The wine was beginning to take effect, making your skin warm and your mind hazy. Against your better judgment, you continued, draining each cup in a matter of minutes. Truthfully, it was a relief—allowing you to drift to a place far from here, to a place by the sea. A cobblestone home perched on the cliffside, surrounded by vines like veins around a heart. A place that always had a fire in its hearth and a stew simmering above it.

A warm tear hitting your hand pulled you from your reverie. You quickly blinked them away, not wanting anyone to see your emotion—least of all Commander Ren. Empathy wasn’t exactly his strongest virtue.

The night passed in a blur of drinks, hollow introductions, and avoiding your betrothed. It was nearly midnight when you finally staggered back to your chambers, barely lucid. Against your wishes, Ren had accompanied you, ensuring that his prized bride reached her chambers unscathed.

You fumbled with the doorknob for a moment, all too aware of his lingering presence. You continued to ignore him until a sobering realization fell over you.

“Does the Supreme Leader expect you to bed me?” you asked, frowning. The wine suddenly felt heavy in your stomach.

“No,” he said, a flash of humanity in his dark eyes. “Not yet, at least.”

“Oh.” Heat rose to your face. Of course he wouldn’t bed you tonight. If that were the case, the two of you would have been wed during the feast.

“Besides, I don’t intend to take you in this state,” he added, stepping closer. His fingers brushed your cheek as he pushed back a piece of hair that had fallen from your updo. You shivered at the sensation.

“This,” you hissed, stumbling backward until you collided with the doors, “is the only state that would make it tolerable.”

An amused smile played on his lips. “We’ll see.”

Dawn cracked the sky early the next morning, a fateful sign of the long winter ahead. As much as you longed to relish the fleeting sunlight, you were damned to spend the day with a pail in your arms and a cold rag on your neck.

“Are you feeling better at all, my lady?” Rey asked, wringing out a washcloth after soaking it in cool water.

“If only I were. I can’t imagine that there’s anything left to expel,” you said with a shudder, pulling your head from the basin.

Rey blotted your forehead with the cloth, her touch as light as the feather pillows beneath you. She had been silent for most of the morning, which you didn’t necessarily mind. There was an unspoken understanding as to why you were so ill this particular morning.

Hours had passed like this; with her encouraging you to take sips of water and you immediately spitting it up. At this point, it was difficult to tell if the culprit was the constant flow of wine or the extended time you had spent with Commander Ren. Perhaps a bit of both.

After what felt like an eternity, your stomach had settled enough to hold down the water Rey was offering. Once you were able to finish a roll of bread and a cup of broth, she returned to her quarters, allowing you to sleep away the rest of the aches.

When you finally woke, cool moonlight was spilling through the windows, casting shadows on the floor. The fire burning in your hearth had been reduced to a pile of embers and ash, but despite the cool air in the room, sweat coated your skin.

The night terrors that had plagued your sleep in the dungeons were relentless, managing to wake you even after a night of drinking and a day of illness. Every night was the same dream, the memory of the night in the forest. Without failure, the terror always ended with Commander Ren’s mask inches away from your face, close enough to show your reflection in the silver ridges around his eyes. The sight of you, bloodied and bruised, was always enough to wake you from the dream.

Tonight was no different, only this nightmare had a different ending. Instead of your armor, you wore the gown from the feast. Standing before the Commander, you looked at him not with horror, but with admiration. His hands were firm on your waist, holding you tight against him. You were unrecognizable in the reflection of his mask—with ruby lips and dark eyes. Piled around you were the bodies of Resistance soldiers—your soldiers—blood spilling from their ripped throats, staining the snow beneath.

Slowly, you pushed his visor up, but before you could see the man behind it, you jolted awake.

Immediately, you kicked the covers off and ran to the chamber pot, coughing and heaving in an attempt to settle your stomach. Nothing came from it, except possibly waking every occupant of the castle. Before returning to your bed, you used the washcloth and water basin that Rey had left behind to blot your face and neck, hoping to cool the heat under your skin.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed as you stared at the canopy above you, trying to erase the image of the dream from your memory—a task proving to be impossible. With each minute that passed, your breath felt more strained, as if the walls of your chambers were shrinking, suffocating you. It was beginning to feel like you had traded one cage for another.

The wedding was at the forefront of your mind, and you knew that every minute you spent laying awake was precious time slipping away. Despite Ren’s orders to stay in your chambers, you left the warmth of your bed, determined to familiarize yourself with the castle. Even if you couldn’t do it tonight, knowing the layout would benefit you when you did.

Hanging in the wardrobe was a long, dark cloak—perfect for concealing your ivory nightgown from the world. You pulled the hood over your head and carefully cracked the door open, scanning the hallway before stepping out into the unknown.

Flickering candles lined the corridor, but only a few were still burning. No one tends the candles past midnight, you noted, creeping towards the familiar spiraling staircase. As you reached the threshold, you peeked into the main chamber, expecting to find guards posted by every door. To your surprise, the room was empty—other than the portraits of the Supreme Leader gracing the walls. But you were no fool. The First Order was more concerned with outside threats; it only made sense that their guards would protect the exterior of the castle. Until you could be more certain of a safe exit, you would only roam the upper halls.

The corridor leading to your chambers seemed to stretch endlessly, leaving much to be explored. You followed the path, passing by quiet rooms and elegant artwork, committing every detail to memory. The cloak fluttered at your ankles as you crept around, feeling like a marauder trespassing on the grounds. If only you were.

The glow of candlelight dwindled the further you ventured, a sign that you had explored enough for one night. With no help from the drawn curtains, you were blind in the darkness. The threat of being caught outside of your chambers loomed over you as you turned to walk back the way you came, eager to return to the safety of your room. After a few steps, you discovered that the carpet beneath you was entirely different. You froze, searching along the walls for familiar fixtures, but found none. Panic began to swell in your chest at the realization that you were lost.

You tried to retrace your steps—understand how you had managed to get yourself to where you were now, but to no avail. Your breath became difficult—as if your ribs were tightening around your lungs. How could you have been so stupid? What had possessed you to step foot outside your room? Forfeiting the luxury of a proper bed for what—the possibility of finding an escape route?

Adrenaline burned your veins like magma as you swiveled on your heels, clutching your cloak tight around your chest to run. The solid frame of a man standing behind you quickly put an end to your efforts. An involuntary gasp escaped your lips as you collided with his chest.

“Lost, are we?”

Your heart plummeted through your chest. You didn’t need to look up to know exactly who had found you. In a moment of pure instinct, you answered with a half-lie. “I couldn’t sleep. I was only trying to find a bit of fresh air.”

Commander Ren chuckled as he gently pushed the hood of your cloak back. The material shifted on your shoulders, revealing your nightgown beneath. Even under the veil of darkness, you felt exposed.

“Were the windows in your chambers insufficient?” he asked, moving his hand to tip your chin up.

“Yes,” you said, reluctantly meeting his gaze. His eyes were an abyss, drinking you in as you stood there. He looked ethereal, with messy, black curls and a loose sleep shirt to match. As your eyes roamed his figure, you were reminded of the night terror that had incited this predicament.

At that, he released your chin and offered you his hand. “Perhaps you would prefer to go for a stroll outside, then?”

Outside? You couldn’t recall how long it had been since you had even been outside—since you had felt the crisp winter air kiss your skin or listened to the song of cicadas in the dead of night. As enticing as his offer was, you hesitated. Was this another trick? Was he luring you outside of the castle walls to lock you out as punishment for disobeying his orders?

Your fingers twitched at your side.

Noticing your apprehension, he sucked in a deep breath. “Do my intentions seem so insincere?”

Silence followed. You wished for a mountain of bricks, ones you could use to barricade your mind from his sorcery.

Finally, you said, “Forgive me for being mistrusting, Commander.” Regardless of the frequency with which you said his title, it never failed to make your mouth bitter. Carefully, you slipped your hand into his, a chill running up through your body at his touch. “I would like that very much.”

Through the darkness, you watched as his gaze lowered to your joined hands, satisfaction burning in his eyes. “Allow me.”

#don't drink the kool aid (commander ren's wine)#also sneaky broom kid cameo bc he’s my king #ben solo #ben solo x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x you #ben solo x fem!reader #ben solo x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars self insert #kylo ren smut #ben solo smut #my writing #vampire!kylo #vampire kylo #vampire kylo ren

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babbushka · 3 years

Note

I’m a Leo Sun, Taurus moon, Aries Venus, cancer rising. Can I request something with one of your historical Kylo’s please? Are you going to write a prompt with your placements? 💛

A/N: Thank you so much for sending this in! Yes I will be writing one with my placements, that'll probably go up after I've answered all the ones I've gotten from you guys! I hope that you enjoy this vignette!

(slight disclaimer that these images are not mine and came from a zodiac meme game. These are meant to be used as general vibes, and not in any way a desire to be exclusionary).

The ball was exhilarating, to say the least. Oh how the musicians played their hearts into their instruments, the violins kept a temp which was far more rigorous than the private balls you had been to before. All was well and merry, faces flushed with excitement as the most recent folk tune had come to a rousing end. Your hands hurt from clapping, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and suddenly, you find yourself in desperate need for some fresh air. Stealing a glance out at the musicians stand, you see them setting up, not yet ready to proceed, and you take your chance.

Slipping away for a moment, you find yourself outside in the garden of the estate, a peaceful corner of the place where you might be left alone. At least, that is what you think, until there is a rustling from the hallway which you have just come through, and you compose yourself at once. A stab of panic washes through you -- it would not be proper to be seen with someone alone. Especially when you see just who it is, and smile despite yourself.

“Lord Ren.” It is he, for of course it would be the object of both your desire and your eternal frustration.

Kylo Ren, the very owner of this estate which you have hidden off to to breathe, approaches you after a deep and overly polite bow, in all his stately manner. He is dressed impeccably, for of course he is. There was a rumor that he threw this party simply in the hopes that you might come, and here you were -- so here he was.

“Forgive me, I’ll be brief. I simply had to see you.” An exhilarated rush of breath carries his words out of his mouth, his hair tousled and curled as if he had been running his hands through it all evening.

“You could not see me just fine from where you were dancing?” Deciding to tease him ever so gently, you raise an eyebrow at him, and have to stifle a laugh of surprise at the way he responds with such theatrics.

“But if I could have only been dancing with you!” That notorious temper of his has surfaced once again, as you watch the muscles in his jaw work over the thought of being obligated to entertain his cousin in a dance, for she had demanded it. “I am tired of being apart from you.”

In an attempt to prove his point, he steps forward, closing the gap of space between your bodies.

“Lord Ren --!” You smack him with your fan, pushing him away. If anyone were to see the two of you, there would be gossip until the end of the year!

“I will say no more, I only ask this; will you do me the honor of the next?” He demands, that passion in his eyes flaring in the flickering of the candlelight.

“I daresay the next shall be quite long, maybe half an hour, maybe even more.” You keep him in suspense, and it is truly the most fun you have had all evening.

“It will be an hour, because I will arrange it to be so.” Kylo licks his lips, staring down at yours, “If that is what you wish.”

Looking around to ensure that absolutely no one is coming, you quickly lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek in lieu of an answer, before returning to the ballroom through the golden staircase you had descended, knowing that your lover would be swiftly behind you, as the music swells again.

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Tagging some friends! If you'd like to be tagged in future works, please fill out THIS form!

@sunflowersinthesnow @iamburdened @painttheskylineforme @safarigirlsp @mrs-gucci @valxntinex @darkhairedmenrule @whateveryousay-dude @baubub @einmal-im-traum @justlenastuff @Simpin-mama @empressofalderaan @angel-bxby3

Credit for the images from this twitter thread!

#kylo ren #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/you #adam driver fic #adcu #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fluff #short fanfic

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simp-4-kylo · 3 years

Note

Hey, hope you’re doing good. A friend gave me this idea for Reader dying Kylo’s hair?? Maybe she’s dying some of hers, and convinces him to dye some of his too????? Thanks :)

heyyo anon! i’m good, hope you’re doing good. As someone who loves to dye their hair , i definitely think kylo would do it . enjoy these thots from my brain to your screen.

Kylo had definitely thought about dying his hair, he wasn’t sure if it was something he wanted to do but he has thought of it.

He knows he would NEVER get rid of his beautiful black hair because it’s iconic.

It wasn’t until one day he found you in your shared fresher that the thought of dying his hair came to his mind, he thought he pushed it to the back of his mind with other things.

You had gotten some natural dyes at a planet the first order had recently stopped on. (okay bc ik hair dye isnt cannon but fuck it, it’s cannon now)

Standing in front of the large mirror, you were applying the first coat of the natural lightener. Kylo had walked in right as you were applying more to your hair.

“Kylo! I’m dying my hair red! You should dye it red as well since that’s your colors.” you had said as you held out a bowl of thick red liquid.

“Princess, maybe not me. But i know you’ll look stunning with red hair. You always look ravishing when you’re strutting my colors.” Kylo had said as he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

he then nuzzled his nose into your neck. leaving soft kisses every now and then.

“Ky, can i please dye a little bit of your hair? not all of it but just maybe a few strands. please! plus you wear your helmet all the time so no one will see it.” you had said making eye contact with him through the mirror.

Kylo let out an audible sigh and reluctantly shook his head yes. (OKAY BUT I WANNA DYE KYLOS HAIR NOW )

That’s how Kylo ended up having red streaks in his hair, placed in random spots that made him even more handsome.

you and Kylo both strutted some form of dyed hair, and the best part was that you two matched. Kylo hated to admit it but he was glad you had convinced him to dye his hair.

he had never seen you more focused in your life than when you were applying the lightening creme to his hair. He could see the joy in your eyes as you were applying the red colored dye.

The whole process made him forget about his duties as supreme leader. These moments were rare, when it was just the two of you in each other’s presence.

Nothing else mattered in the Galaxy. Here he was , sitting on a stool in front of a mirror as the person he loved most applied hair dye to his hair. Everything was normal and peaceful.

It’s these rare moments that make him feel more like Ben Solo.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren headcanons #star wars headcanons #Kylo headcanons #kylo imagine #Kylo Ren #ben solo headcanons #Bro I’m so sad #bro i’m sad because of ben solo #Wtf ben solo has my heart #lol sorry this is short #jbwrites #jeez i love kylo #Kylo Ren is soft

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simpingbluntly · 2 years

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pale skin, dry lips.

i’m painfully aware of everything around me. i don’t mean just people or furniture, but every single piece of clothing rubbing against my skin as it sit naturally on my body. i can see my uncomfortable satin pants rubbing against my thighs and shins. i can see my helmet squeezing my head just a little too tight. it feels like a bike helmet over my entire head. i feel my shirt touching my arms, then my chest, then my torso. i can feel my hands covered in black leather, every single inch. i can see my cloak pulling my back slightly as it hands off the back of my bed where i sit. i reach up to take off my helmet, the cold exterior of my helmet making its way through my gloves.

i place the helmet on the bed after the mechanics release a pressurized puff of air and i’m able to free myself from my own metal confines. i once again close my eyes, trying to focus on just feeling my surroundings. it’s nauseating at time to feel everything. my head goes crazy and i find it difficult to even motivate myself to get out of my own head. everything in this state is just so noisy but yet again i feel everything around me going completely silent.

“did i catch you at a bad time?” a familiar voice appears in front of me.

i open my eyes to see her. i can help but crack a smile.

“it’s never a bad time to see you, rey.” i say as i stand up to be more in front of her. “what wrong?”

rey smiles. she’s so beautiful.

“nothing. i just wanted to see you. check in on you.” see say reaching a hand out. “i’m sort of glad i did now. you seem to be getting in your head again.”

“perhaps. but i’ve got everything under control.” i say reaching my hand out.

the truth is that i don’t. my head is noisy and i can’t focus. i feel my pupils getting larger and smaller with every moment. i can’t stop focusing on how my socks feel on my feet and i don’t think my hair is sitting well on my head as i look deep inside her bright eyes.

she gives me a worries smile before touching my gloved hand. “if you say so.”

she moves her hand up to my face, running his finger up my shirts zipper, tracing my scar to cup my cheek. her skin has gotten so pale.

i can see every single imperfection on her face, how her skin texture looks and how her freckles from her home planet are slowly fading from being away from the sun for so long.

“i love you, ben.” she say before getting on her tippy toes to place a soft kiss on my lips.

everything goes blank. i physically cannot think of anything other then her dry lips on mine.

as she pulls back the thoughts come right back. i can feel myself analyzing how my lips feel compared to hers. i swiftly take my gloves off and throw them on my bed, the feeling of leather gloves stretching my skin for a moment making me cringe slightly. i turn back to her and but my hands on her small face, cupping each cheek. i lean down to kiss her again.

utter bliss is the only was i could describe kissing her.

i pull back and i can feel my face heating up and turning red. hers was already like that when i pulled off.

“i love you too, rey.” i say with a smile.

we both smile while holding each others hands. “i wish i could be there right now.”

“i now. i’ll be home soon.” she says smiling.

i shoot her a confused look. i’m not sure what she means by home. is she on a mission right now. i thought she was already at her base. she can see my confused look and she touches my face once more.

“you’re my home, ben.”

my eyes go wide and i can feel my face now a bright red. i can’t help but smile a little bit.

“perhaps we should spend a little bit of time together before you go on another mission.” i say nervously, scared she’s gonna give me the whole ‘if the resistance needs me, they need me’ rant.

“i would like that.” she says happily.

i smile and kiss her once more. i am so deeply in love with this woman

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