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#artimage hux
yandere-trashcan · 1 year
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Star Wars Characters:
Jedi:
Anakin Skywalker
Luke Skywalker
Count Dooku
Mace Windu
Obi-Wan Kenobi
Plo Koon
Qui-Gon Jinn
Yoda
Sith:
Asajj Ventress
Darth Maul
Darth Nihilus
Darth Sidious
Darth Tyrannus
Darth Vader
General Grievous
Grand Inquisitor
Kylo Ren
Savage Opress
Mandolorians:
Jango Fett
Boba Fett
Pre Vizsla
Paz Vizsla
Din Djarin
Satine Kryze
The Armorer
Clones:
Alpha-17
Cody
Fox
Rex
Tech
Wolfee
Wrecker
Imperials:
Artimage Hux
Captain Phasma
Moff Gideon
Senators:
Leia Organa
Padme Amidala
Sheev Palpatine
Other:
Burg
Cad Bane
Cara Dune
Cobb Vanth
Fennec Shand
Feral Opress
Greef Karga
Lando Calrissian
Peli Motto*
Quin
Xi'an
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countessren · 4 years
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STAR WARS DIALOGUE PROMPTS
1. “You can’t always do everything on your own”
2. “That’s not how the force works”
3. “Everything I have built, and you would dare to betray me?”
4. “Don’t look at me like that”
5. “How very romantic of you” “I try my best, sweetheart”
6. “Are you capable of saying more than one word?”
7. “Let’s make a deal” “No thank you, I prefer living”
8. “Don’t do this”
9. “You’re more than a man behind a mask you know”
10. “Could you give me a hand?” “I could, but will I?”
11. “You don’t know me”
12. “I love you” “I know”
13. “Give me one good reason why I should trust you”
14. “I would do anything for you, you know that right?”
15. “Can you stay, please?” “Of course”
16. “You can’t be serious right? You expect me to do the impossible”
17. “I need more than one drink to put up with your crap”
18. “We are stranded here together, so we may as well work together to get off this rock alive”
19. “I’m too tired to deal with all your negativity”
20. “Who did this to you?”
21. “What do you mean that ‘you broke the ship’?”
22. “In this profession, you get used to people leaving you”
23. “Why are you so insistent on me wearing this?”
24. “You need to sleep”
25. “Don’t. Move.”
26. “Don’t you die on me”
27. “I’m sorry...I’m so, so sorry”
28. “I know you hate me, but this is taking it too far”
29. “I don’t care what you think of me, I only care about what others would think of us”
30. “I want you to promise me that you will come back to me alive” “You know me, I’ll try”
31. “Stay close to me”
32. “If we get caught, just know that I will blame you”
33. “You are mine and mine only, understand?”
34. “Move” “Make me”
35. “You will regret ever hurting her, that I promise you”
36. “You never cared about me before, so why start caring now?” “...because I love you”
37. “Give me a chance to make it up to you” “I did, and you blew it”
38. “Why should I trust you” “Because I just saved your life, and showing some respect would be nice”
39. “You’re injured” “I’m fine”
40. “Tell me something, why is it that you always come to me to fix your problems?”
41. “H-Help me...please”
42. “I can’t...you’re asking too much of me”
43. “If there is one thing I have learned, it’s that you don’t underestimate me”
44. “If you move that blaster an inch closer to my face you are going to lose that hand”
45. “If you don’t let her go right now, I swear I will break every bone in your body”
46. “My life would be so much harder without you”
47. “You almost died, you...you stopped breathing”
48. “If we are going to work together, can you at least have more than a one-word conversation with me?” “No”
49. “I can’t let you do this alone”
50. “Thank you for opening up to me, I’m proud of you”
51. “Tell me what to do” “Don’t leave me”
52. “I’ve definitely seen more stranger things than this”
53. “Don’t move too much, you’ll hurt yourself”
54. “I can’t believe you”
55. “Tell me something I don’t know” “Your eye twitches when you get annoyed” “Only because it’s you that annoys me”
56. “Just...don't do anything stupid” “I’ll try but I can’t guarantee anything”
57. “Let. Her. Go”
58. “Don’t tell me what to do” “Well someone has to otherwise you’ll likely get yourself killed”
59. “Would you like me to be honest or would you like me to sugarcoat it for you?” “Sugarcoat it” “Okay then, well...I can’t do this, we’re screwed”
60. “Is that my shirt?” “You can’t prove anything”
61. “I think he likes you”
62. “I’m the best damn pilot in the galaxy” “I think you missed putting the word ‘second’ in there somewhere”
63. “Where are you taking me?” “You need to relax more. You need to see the world around you, and find some sort of peace within yourself...even if it is just for a little while”
64. “Tell me why I should stay” “Because I need you...I...I’m not good with this sort of stuff”
65. “Under no circumstances are you to leave this ship. You’ll hurt yourself even more”
66. “I’ve collected many bounties, but you are by far the strangest” “I’ll pretend not to be offended by that”
67. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner” “I’m alive, aren’t I? You had perfect timing”
68. “Don’t leave me alone, please. Not after...”
69. “Sleep, you’ve done enough for today”
70. “It’s pretty cozy in here” “We are in a holding cell” “I was trying to lighten up the mood, you just had to ruin it didn’t you”
71. “People assume that I’m not easily approachable. They are right, but still, they assume”
72. “These children adore you” “All you have to do is listen, and be attentive instead of using brute force half of the time” “Brute force is all I know” “That’s not what I see when you are with the kid”
73. “If I have to listen to one more damn excuse, I’m walking out of this room”
74. “The force works in mysterious ways”
75. “I can...I can um...give you hand...if you would like”
76. “What do I have to do in order for you to see that everything that I have done, I have done for you”
77. “That doesn’t go there” “Then where does it go?” “Not there! Put it back where you found it” “I found it right here!”
78. “I could be lying in a nice, warm and cozy bed right now. But no. Instead, I am stuck shivering in the freezing cold snow with you”
79. “Black doesn’t suit you” “It’s my uniform” “I meant what I said”
80. “One day. One day I’ll see who is behind that helmet” “In your dreams” “Maybe”
81. “If you lay one more hand on her, I swear I will tear you apart”
82. “It’s only a few bruises” “A few bruises too many”
83. “I’ll be fine. You need to focus on the mission at hand”
84. “I would rather die than tell you anything” “Well, don’t make my job any easier”
85. “I can’t lose you” “You won’t...you never will”
86. “All I want you to do is listen to me...I just...you always manage to get hurt and I...just please”
87. “I need you to know that you mean everything to me”
88. “You’re freezing” “I’m fine”
89. “How is it that you always manage to get me to defend your impulsive actions?”
90. “Pretend that there is no one else here but us”
91. “A lightsabre is one of the most dangerous weapons in the galaxy, you shouldn’t wield it around like its a toy”
92. “Put that down!”
93. “I’ve never felt like this before” “Like what?” “Like I’m going to be suffocated by your arms around my chest”
94. “You’re lying to me” “About what?” “About the compressor. It’s not broken, you just want me to ‘fix it’ so you can spend time with me”
95. “Don’t drag me into this, you dug this hole yourself”
96. “When this is over, I’m going to marry you” “I would certainly hope so, you dragged me into this in the first place”
97. “I love you more than words can say”
98. “Promise me one thing: that you will stay by my side no matter what is thrown our way. I promise, I will protect you from every threat, every danger, and from everyone that wishes to harm you”
99. “Don’t drop that, if you do you might blow up the planet”
100. “I’m not leaving you here...not this time. I love you”
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Characters I write for: Cal Kestis, Han Solo, Kylo Ren, Artimage Hux, Poe Dameron, Cassian Andor, Anakin Skywalker, The Mandalorian, Luke Skywalker, Finn, Obi-Wan Kenobi.
DM or comment the number of the prompt/s and the character you want then with and I will have the prompt up as soon as I can.
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starwarsfangirl · 4 years
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boxfox09 · 4 years
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Just a lil doodle of a dumb space Nazi
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86thfloormusic · 5 years
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My grandfather was a musical genius. I will finish what he started.
Ever wondered what the cast of Star Wars would be like as teenagers in a band? 
Watch Star Wars High: Battle of the Bands here - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Y4dXdttIfI
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artistjordon · 6 years
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MASTERLIST
KYLO REN STORIES
DIVINE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Stained Glass
Chapter 1
KYLO REN ONE SHOTS
Our Loss
Run
Holiday 
Love Me For Today
It’s Winter Every day...
Blind Sidearm
Untitled 1
KYLO REN AU
Drowning Shadows (one part only)
Kylo Ren Paintball AU Part 1
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jedirebelfinn · 6 years
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I think Poe's sexuality gets more attention bc A) Poe's interest in Finn is arguably more obvious than vice versa; it's Oscar who said he was 'playing romance' and therefore Poe's actions are a lot less open to interpretation, as we know they were done intentionally for us to see the romantic subtext, & B) Finn has Rey & Rose, whereas Poe doesn't really have an equivalent. Basically canon hints to Poe being queer more than Finn, and its more likely at this point, so people are fixating on that.
the problem with this is that let’s take Hux for example, this man had not even 4 minutes of screen-time and you had Hux stans literally saying shit like he’s gay coded and everything in between, despite his interaction with Phasma and his often time violent, argumentative behavior around Kylo which continued onto TLJ. You can’t tell me there’s some ‘logical’ reason as to why people do not even bother making gay Finn content, when it’s rather simply the ways in which parts of the Finnpoe fandom are more obsessed with Poe and make Finn out to be an accessory after the fact. I assure you if there was another male character on the Resistance side of things that had some screen time with Poe people would find a way to ship them together and dump Finn on the wayside. Consider even further, there are people who ship Poe with Hux despite the fact that him and Hux hadn’t actually met or spoke to one another until TLJ. So please keep all these 'one character is more queer than the other because canon’ excuses to yourself, cause this fandom has no problem making characters queer, what it has a problem with is making it’s black characters queer.
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absolxguardian · 7 years
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Alright, I just found this really good video and I think you all will love it, especially @white-rainbowff
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Honestly I just love Kylo and Finn so much. And Poe is just a precious bean. I think Rey is just. So cool. Hux is honestly a cool character and I'm hoping that we'll get a little bit more from TLJ. I have mixed feelings about Phasma: if she's a spy, cool. If she just. Let the shields down, then what even?!?!
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kyloren-theprince · 4 years
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Feral
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What makes Hux more feral than Ren? Lack of consent? Maybe, but Kylo isn’t one to always adhere to your every plea; sometimes what he needs is to fuck you hard and fast and without remorse and he never really asked to do that. But deep down, you and Ren both know what you want is each other.
Warnings: smut, edging, inappropriate use of the Force, swearing, brief mention of assault, blood
“Damnit, Ren!” He stands between you and the door, his body solid and taut with barely – just barely – contained rage. He could kill you no problem. But it's not about whether or not he could, the matter at hand was would he. You clench your fist, steeling yourself. “Move.”
He takes a jagged breath, bracing, everything about him so barely controlled. The air hums with an electricity that makes your hair stand on end, makes the lights buzz a little louder than before. Without his helmet, the dark tresses of his hair fall over his face, curling handsomely around the edges of his cheekbones.
“No,” he growls lowly. His left eye twitches. “You’re not leaving.”
“Like fucking Kriff I am!”
“Where are you even going to go?” He’s challenging, squaring off. You roll your eyes. “Are you running to the resistance? Go fuck off with whoever’s left?”
You scoff, crossing your arms. “Don’t be a fucking child. I’ll stay right where I’m needed-“
“And yet you want to leave,” he interrupts.
“Yes!” You manage to sidestep him, closer to the door, but not yet there.
There’s pressure on your wrist, not warm enough to be his hand, but firm enough that it’s clear you’re not getting out of this quite yet.
“Why? Give me one good reason why.”
You turn on a credit, the hair that managed to free itself from it’s braids flying wild. “You are a lot of things, Kylo, but a man of reason is not one of them.”
“One!”
You watch the way his chest heaves, his fingers twitching. A pain taps the nerves in your arm. You must flinch because he releases only a hair, but it's enough that he’s not hurting you. You look at him, in his eyes, and your heart aches at the sight.
They’re red, glistening enough to know that he has tears in his eyes. You were the only one to ever see him cry (and live), but now you were the cause. Your voice softens.
“I need you to understand that I am not you little fuck toy. You don’t get to use me and then leave for days – weeks – and then get pissed off when I’ve left these quarters during that time.”
His lips press together tightly. You consider the idea of continuing to talk, but you just swallow, feeling the ghost of a hand trail across your palm, pulling on your fingers just enough to have a sense of longing. But then it’s gone, and Kylo lets you walk through those blast doors without another word.
––––
Two, almost three, weeks have passed since that night, and while the ache of Kylo’s absence weighed heavy on your spirit, other issues have arisen. These ones, however, you never realized the extent of before now. Most personnel on the Finalizer recognized your authority, and regarded you with the same respect as before, but there were few outliers.
Take General Artimage Hux for example: he’s a man of some power, and with the idea that he is irreplaceable in his head, he’s proven himself quite the pain in your ass.
He was always on your heels, offering you comfort you didn’t ask for, kind words you didn’t want to hear, gentle reassurances that made you want to pull your hair out, grab him by the ear and thunk him on the forehead, right between his eyes. Either that or kill him.
Right now, as he’s calling your name from the other end of the otherwise empty hall to your temporary quarters, you’ve decided on killing him.
“What is it, General?” You slow enough to glance over your shoulder, hating how close to you he always wants to be. “I’ve somewhere I need to be.”
“And where might that be, darling?” He teases, smoothing over his uniform.
His voice. It’s grating on your ears, makes your head hurt in the worst way. Stars, debriefings with him were awful but this was outright torture.
Maybe that’s how we should interrogate the prisoners, you think. Make him talk to them for a few hours. Melt their brains with his bantha shit.
“None of your concern,” you reply curtly. You don’t give him the courtesy to look at him, you don’t have to. “You’re supposed to be on the bridge.”
“I’ve got a few minutes to spare.”
Your door is in sight, but he’s still here. “Actually General,” you snap, turning sharply to face him, “you don’t. Report to your post immediately.”
The cocky motherfucker has the audacity to stop as well, flash his teeth in a smile, bend at the waist and ask, “Or what?”
A beast within you runs rampant, gnashing its teeth, scratching, writhing in his presence. You don’t move, only watch as he flinches, clutching his neck as he chokes.
“You seem to have forgotten your place,” you snarl. “Or you’ve forgotten mine. Which is it?”
He garbles around the pressure on his throat, usually so pale face having taken on a red tone, ripening into a purple. You release him, and he sucks in deep, lungful of air. He’s panting when he looks at you again, his eyes no longer teasing, but dark and dangerous. In a moment, your head throbs upon its impact against the wall, your arms pinned between your bodies. Hux’s breath on your face makes your skin itch.
“Your place has been Ren’s whore.” You thrash, and he takes hold of your chin, knocking your temple into the support pillar. Your vision goes spotty, but you still push against him. “But now he’s thrown you out like the cheap thing you are.”
So many emotions are screaming through you, your fight or flight going haywire. Was your brain even processing? Ren’s whore, you hear him say. His hands are moving, dragging, feeling across the planes of your torso.
Spiraling, your consciousness produces the image of walking into your quarters, the one you shared with Kylo, and burying yourself in his chest, running your hands through his hair. Even in the daydream, you’re crying, apologizing over and over. You imagine him saying your name.
Maybe he hates you for what you did, and that makes it worse, so much worse, because that’s the only place you want to be. You want to be in the arms of the person who hates you so fucking much. You’re slipping under, drowning in whatever nightmare this is, shutting down, but you don’t want to. No, no this is not going to be how this turns out. You’ll die before then.
“What was that?” It’s Hux again; grating, disrespectful, disgusting Hux. “I thought you said something, darling.”
You pry your eyes open. You bring your knee up, but he pins both legs with his own, amused by your struggle. He opens his mouth to say something, but you spit right there on his face, wishing it were poison or acid instead.
“You,” he says lowly, leaning close to your face, “are going to regret that.”
You bare your teeth. “No, I don’t think I will.”
Without further warning, you bite down on the bridge of his nose, forcing your teeth down tight around the bone until there’s a resounding crack, copper on your tongue. He shouts, smacking at your face until you let go. He prods at the break, flinching, staring at you with wide and pissed off eyes. He shifts his weight towards you, the very beginning of a step, but you throw him back with the Force. He crumples to the ground, rolling slowly to his hands and knees.
Ever on time, the patrol of the evening comes into view, and with one little flick of your wrist, Hux is sent flying to their feet. They stumble to a stop, looking to you for orders.
“Take him,” you instruct.
They move without hesitation, binding his wrists together, and escorting him to the brig eight levels down. You stand there, in the middle of the otherwise empty hallway, just breathing.
Kylo, you think, hoping – knowing – he can hear you, meet me at the throne.
––––
He’s come home from battle looking better than he does now; the bags beneath his eyes are prominent, shoulders slumped with their own weight. He doesn’t move when you enter the room, doesn’t say anything as you walk towards him. He just watches with those sad and tired eyes. You stand next to him, inches from the throne, studying its intricacies that you hadn’t noticed before.
“Do you understand why?” Your voice is soft, fragile even. He feels his heart twist in his chest, guilt sinking lowlowlow. There’s another moment of silence save for his breathing, and you pull him from his thoughts with the gentlest call of his name.
“I do,” he answers, fearing he’s spoken far too loud for the moment. He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t defend himself in anyway, he just knows these last three weeks have been eating him alive. He was rotting in ways he hadn’t expected to. And maybe to say he understood was a lie, but he knew he’d at least try to accommodate, to listen to you a little more than just your moans.
You nod once, eyes somewhere else entirely. Gentle is not his forte. You knew this, you didn’t expect him to console you, you didn’t ask him to, but carefully – awkwardly, even – he reaches out, pulling you into his chest.
“Kylo,” you mumble against the fabric of his shirt, feeling every thump thump thump of his heart. It felt good to say his name, feel it roll on your tongue.
His hands move from your back to your face, ducking down to kiss you deeply. “Say you won’t leave.” You run your hands through his hair, fingers spread wide over his scalp. “Tell me you wont leave again, ever. You can go wherever the fuck you want, but you’ll come back to me.”
Ren’s whore.
“If you promise me the same.” His brows are twisted, and you know with that one look that he’s heard Hux’s words. You shake your head. “I don’t know what I’m-“
He kisses you, short and fierce this time. “You’re Empress. You rule beside me.”
“Wha-“
“And you’ll stay by me.” His words are sharp, but he softens when he says, “Please.”
Though weak, you smile. “How could I ever refuse you?”
His sinks, smashing your lips together in a flurry, and you take it as an apology. Words he was terrible at, but he could show you, Kriff could he show you.
There more he kisses you, the more you dissolve into his touch, shaking, melting away at his fingers. His grip turns a little harsher, nose scrunching up.
He spins, sitting on the throne and pulling you with him, onto his lap. “You-“ he runs his hands up your thighs, thumbs drawing harsh circles “-fuck.”
You cup his face, kissing him, letting his hands roam, but keeping his lips firmly against yours. He’s jumpy, hips rocking, grinding his covered cock against your heat, growling when you don’t move more than your lips against his.
He wants control, needs it; can feel it scathing beneath his skin, but you’re not backing down this time. You need this just as much as he does, more maybe.
You tug at his belt, pulling away to tear off his pants, hands sliding up over his thighs, the thick muscles would tight and jumping at the press of your thumb. His eyes burn into yours, nose scrunched up.
“If you don’t sit on my cock—“
“You’ll what?” He doesn’t flinch at your sharp tone, but his face relaxes, lips parting so pretty, pupils blown wide. You push his arms down to the throne, pinning him by his inner elbow as you shift back onto his lap. His fingers flex. You gyrate your hips, barely dragging your heat over his aching erection, and he visibly shakes.
You’ve never felt this powerful in your life; not when you cut down enemies, had troopers obey your every command. No, having the mighty Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the galaxy, trembling beneath you was what made you feel fucking invincible.
Almost drunk on it, you lean forward, daring, “What will you do, Kylo?” He swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Bend me over? Fuck me stupid?”
Poking at the beast is fun. He locks up, every muscle drawn tight, and he gives a clipped, “Yes.”
You reach out with the Force, seeing bind to his arms, and falling heavy with weight. You knock the snarl off his lips when you take a fistful of his hair and tug, pushing his head against the back of the throne, baring his pale throat. His lips part again, arms taut against the invisible pressure.
“Then you,” you taunt, leaning in close, “haven’t learned your lesson.”
All the ways you could bind him flit through your mind, and you know he sees them too, you make sure of it. His eyes grow darker. Every heavy breath makes his chest puff, flexed, bracing for something that might happen, might not. Nearly lost in it, you bring him back to reality, letting only the head of his dick slide into your wet hole.
“Is this what you wanted?” You sink, just enough to watch those pretty lashes flutter, before rising again. He growls through gritted teeth. “You’re gonna have to use your words.”
He hates this, hates you’ve turned the tables. Or maybe he likes it. Fuck if he really knows. He does know he likes seeing you like this, all commanding, rich with… stars, he’s not sure what this is. But you’re flushed, focused, articulate even as your cunt drools all over his lap. It’s a tug of war, whether or not he submits, so he gives back what you’re so good at: being a brat.
“Is this what you wanted?” He lets his tongue drag over his teeth, watching your head tilt as you follow his eyes. “You wanted to come prove something to your Supreme Leader?”
“No,” you hum and oh, he’s in for it now. He holds his breath when you lean forward, the pressure of hands working over his hips and pressing down at the tops of his thighs. “I wanted to break you.”
His back arches, breath coming in harshly, eyes squeezed shut, jaw slack as he moans, wishing he could hold your hips down on his, your cunt sheathing him so suddenly he’s keening. He groans, the sound catching on the back of his throat, reverberating. You wigglegrindclench, and he gasps, willing you to move. Your grip on his hair loosens, running your hand through the dark tresses, stopping only at his jaw to tug his lower lip. Kylo’s eyes are glazed over when he looks at you again.
“Please,” he breathes, the plea surprising you both.
“Please what?”
“Fuck!” He snaps weakly, breath leaving in a big sigh. “I don’t know, just please move. Please.”
You roll your hips, biting your lip when he chokes on his own voice. “Will you be good?”
There’s a moment of mixed emotions, clarity returning to his eyes. He blinks, face scrunching up, shaking his head of whatever thought occupying it.
You click your tongue, “What a shame.”
Pressure at the base of his dick and he jerks his hips up, eyes wide, flitting between a plea and a threat as you tighten the grip, fucking yourself on his hot length. He swears, pants, leans forward to bite at your breasts, but you take hold of his chin, pushing his head back against the throne.
“Uh-uh,” you chide. “You didn’t want to be a good boy, so this is what you get.” Breathless but determined, you lean forward, still bouncing. “I’m gonna use you like some dumb fuck doll, and you’re not gonna do a thing. You’re not gonna touch me, taste me—“ you make a point of tightening the invisible cock ring, earning a low, gutteral moan “—and you’re not gonna cum in me either.”
The threat almost makes him scream. He tries to bite it back, but your walls are hugging him so tightly, making this obscene squelching noise everytime you move. Sweat drips down to the hollow of your throat and stars does he wish to drink it down. He breathes your name, husky and desperate for you, for release, both.
“Please,” he begs again. He closes his eyes, nearly melting when your lips ghost over the smooth skin of his neck, nose following the line of his scar. “P-please! I’ll be a good—“ his throat clicks “—good boy! Let me cum, fuck, let me cum please!”
Those words felt foreign on his tongue, but how his whole being sings when your fingers dig into his shoulders. He’s almost there, would be if not for your hinderance, but he can feel the way your walls flutter and clench, and he knows he’s not the only one.
“Do you think you deserve to?”
“No!” Spitting that out was easier than he expected. So was, “I don’t deserve you or your cunt!”
You hum, but don’t acknowledge it further, chin dropping to your collarbone as you pant shudder shake, heat coiling at the base of your spine, muscles flexing. Kylo’s back bows, chest and face angled towards the ceiling, a loud, low moan rumbling through him.
He tries not to think about it — how fucking badly he wants to cum, fill up your pretty cunt — tries breathing, counting, squeezing his eyes shut. He forces his mind away from his orgasm, and of course it goes to you; his conscious seeks out the thread intertwining the two of you, the shared bond through the Force.
A new sensation zips through him, flitting through his thoughts, makes his brain buzz on his own skull. You sigh, moan, and he feels it, feels it against the planes of his face, feels it hum through his head like a tidal wave. Everything is so bright and electric, but there’s something there.
It’s small, tucked away, felt by numb fingers. It’s young and fleeting and yielding and disappearing melting hiding gone behind the eruption of your orgasm, and Kylo feels all of it.
In every cell in his body, he feels you clamping down on his cock, gushing, cumming all over his lap, moaning loud loud loud for him. He feels your release through you and his mind is spinning because Kriff his cock is still so full and aching as you pull away. He whines, low and pitiful.
“Go on.” His whole being hums with your voice, the pressure of the cock ring relieving into a stroke over his shaft. “Cum, Kylo.”
And he does, he fucking cums; thick spurts that touch his chin and splatter on his chest, such a big load that lands all over him. His body sags against the throne, breathing deep through chapped lips.
Fuck, maybe he blacks out for a moment, dragging his eyes open when his cloak is tossed over his lap, the fabric making his over sensitive cock twitch. When the blast doors hiss open, and troopers march in escorting Hux, Ren doesn’t move.
You briefly admire Kylo; the sweat makes his hair curl into his eyes, everything about him draped so leisurely across the ancient seat, thighs spread. The flush of his usually pale skin, little marks across his neck, make him glow. His gaze meets yours, unchanging, but curious. Hux clears his throat.
“Supreme Leader,” he acknowledges almost reverently, falling to one knee.
That something is back, scathing and scratching behind the walls of your mind, and Kylo sees it, turning to Hux slowly. “Your business here is not with me.”
You turn, and it’s now that Hux swallows thickly. At the bottom of those steps, he looks so small and scared, as he damn well should be. His back straightens when you walk forward, the troopers moving back as you approach.
“Empress,” he says lowly, far less reverently. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Something dark clouds your eyes, and Hux’s façade fades further. He reaches out, just the barest lift of his fingers, and that’s it.
Kylo’s saber flies easily from its hilt, landing in your palm, burning hot as it cuts through the air, through skin and bone, Hux’s hand falling to the floor in a sickening heap. He cries out, cradling his arm, wailing, face red. The smell of burnt flesh curls at your nose.
“If you touch another woman without her permission,” you promise, low, dark, and deadly. You put the tip of the saber beneath his trembling chin, forcing him to look at you. “I will take more than your hand.”
He nods as best he can, whispering hoarsely, “Yes, ma’am.”
What a sight to behold: an empress wielding a blade to a feral man’s throat, threatening his life with little effort and full understanding.
When Hux is half carried away on tremebling knees do you turn back to your husband. You kill the saber, slowly retuning to him, offering it for him to take. Your heart was hammering in your chest. Whether that’s from the exertion of fucking him or the adrenaline of Hux’s punishment, you weren’t sure.
Kylo’s lips remain parted, eyes wide as he pushes the saber away with the side of his pinky, his focus zeroed in on you.
“Is that what possessed you?” His voice is low, hoarse despite the way he tries to clear it. Your lip twitches and that’s all he needs to know.
He urges you forward, the Force gentle at your back, but buzzing with anticipation. You stand between his parted legs, letting his hands touch your waist, sliding up to your ribcage as he sits up. His thumbs move soothingly. He angles his head upwards, almost your height, but not quite given he’s still sitting.
He wants to say something, he should, but he’s replaying that moment in his head over and over and over until he’s dizzy with it. The power and radiance of you always left him so hard, and now was no different; with his shifting, his robe falls, revealing his cock, already flushing a deep red, precum falling from the slit.
“You are exquisite,” he breathes finally, loving the way your pupils blow wide at the sight of him. And while he doesn’t have words beyond that, your lips meet fiercely in a kiss that you both moan into, and stars he can show you just how much he needs you.
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whynotwinnie · 3 years
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wounded: a kylo ren x oc part 12
Hey y’all sorry for the delay i was working on the other fic i have timida but here is the long awaited update lol thank y’all for supporting me! 
Warning: cussing, cumplay, cockwarming, kinda degrading, smut, overall 18+ audience!!!
VENUS
You should’ve known something was going to go wrong. You had too good of a day for it not to go wrong.
Everything was quiet in the infirmary almost boring when right, when you’re about to clock out Artimage, comes in being supported by 2 stormtroopers. You immediately stop what you’re doing and approach them.
“What happened to him?” You ask the stormtroopers as they lay him down on a cot.
“Ren got ahold of him choked him and threw him to the wall, hard.”
You swallowed hard, you knew the Supreme Leader has done far much worse than this but this was someone you cared about.
You shook your head and they left.
“General Hux”
No response.
“General?”
He wasn’t unconscious so why wasn’t he speaking, you looked around you and then bent down so you can whisper in his ear.
“Artimage are you okay.”
He groaned.
“Where does it hurt Artimage?” you said still whispering.
“My neck and head,” his voice made your stomach turn, he sounded like he was in so much pain. 
“Don’t worry I’m going to take care of that right now.” you said to him as you turned to your droid “X2 can you get the IV drip please.” you didn’t want to leave Artimage like this, you knew you weren’t supposed to feel anything for him because he was obviously not going to show you the same affection back, but this was purely out of friendship… you think.
You inserted the drip in his arm, it was filled with a type of painkiller so you made sure to only give him a bit.
You gave it about five minutes until it started working so you closed the surrounding curtain and sat in the chair next to him.
His breathing that was once labored became more even and he looked like he no longer looked as if he was in pain. He looked up at you and smiled, it made your heart skip a beat.
“Venus,” he said drunkenly 
“Yes Artimage,” you said trying not to laugh.
“You’re so nice for helping me again.” 
“It’s my job Artimage,” you said grabbing a foam collar to put around his neck to stabilize it.
He stared at you as you wrapped the collar around his neck he was coming closer to you and he was just about to kiss you when you said “Is this too tight for you?” and pulled away.
He had a confused look on his face and you must’ve had the same one. You wanted a relationship with Artimage before he told you off something after that day changed your feeling towards him.
It couldn’t have been the Supreme Leader, could it?
“Venus I-” he started to say but was interrupted as Ap’lek opened the curtain abruptly.
“Venus come with me.”
“I’m with a patient,” you said feeling irritated by seeing the fucking knight again.
“Someone else can tend to him you’re done.” 
“That’s not how it works, I can’t just leave them with a patient I started treating it’s-”
“You,” Ap’lek said pointing at one of the other nurses, “He is your problem now, understand.”
They shook their head quickly and stood by Artimage’s side.
“See.” Ap’lek said and then grabbed your arm pulling you out of the infirmary.
“Ap’lek stop grabbing me like that.” you said trying to shove him off but he remained solid as he dragged you to your room.
“Let go of me!” you said a little louder and he released your arm from his grip.
“Pack your clothes.”
“Gods, what now?” you said rubbing your arm.
“The Supreme Leader wants you to stay with him.”
Why would the Supreme Leader want you to stay with him? You understood that he was meaning to have sex with you last night before he got interrupted but what now.
“What, why would he say that?”
Ap’lek didn’t reply.
Maybe this was a joke right? The Supreme Leader wanted to mess with you for all the times you were being obnoxious right?
“He is being serious Venus, he wants you to stay with him.”
“You can do that too?” You thought you said it in your head but you guess not.
“Not as good as the Supreme Leader, so hurry up before he takes matters into his own hands and decides to kill us both.” 
Ap’lek was joking, he wouldn’t kill one of his prized knights. You on the other hand that sounded more realistic.
It took you 10 minutes to pack your life which was depressing, you fumbled carrying your bags and Ap’lek barely turned to you and sighed. He scooped up both of your large bags one under his arm and one in his hand, the other hand holding his axe.
“Ap’lek you really don’t need to do that, it okay.”
“Quiet.” he said and led you to the Supreme Leaders room again.
You couldn’t get your heart to stop beating so fast, best case scenario you sleep on the nice bed you slept in yesterday the worst case is that you see the Supreme Leader. Wait that doesn’t sound too bad either… unless he is cross with you and wants to kill you. You shook that idea out of your head if you really wanted to leave you were able to no one can force you to stay in their possession like a prisoner.
Ap’lek opened the door to the Supreme Leaders room and held it open for you to come in. 
“Is he here?” you asked him
“Yes he is.” the Supreme Leader responded
Fuck what was the pros and cons of coming here? You should just ask him to leave. You were about to voice your thoughts when he said.
“Ap’lek” your mind couldn’t even process how fast Ap’lek set your bags down and nodded at yourself and then the Supreme Leader. Ap’lek gave one more look in your direction and left. 
The silence was unbearable as you stood in the living room area with all your bags.
“Supreme Leader?” You said just wanting some answers.
“I’ll show you to your room.”
He led you to the same room you stayed in last night and watched you as you set your bags on the floor.
“Stay here,” he said plainly
You wanted to keep your thoughts at bay for obvious reasons but you couldn’t help but wonder, Why you? Why now? What is going to happen now?
“You are to stay here until I come to get you.”
“Stay here? Like in this room? I have work tomorrow.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’ that’s my job.” 
“No, you’re not going to go.”
“No but that’s my job, I can’t just not show up even if I didn’t want to go.” You said annoyed now.
He stopped responding probably because he sensed that you weren’t going to back down. You wish you could see his face his mask giving you a cold expression.
“Why do you need to go in?” he asked but he seemed genuine. Or maybe the vocoder was messing up his voice.
“It’s my job, some other workers are not as experienced as me and to be honest we need all the help we can get.”
He stayed quiet for a while. 
“You will go to work and come straight back here.”
“What, why?”  You should’ve just left it at that knowing that you shouldn’t be talking to the Supreme Leader of the Galaxy like that.
He grabbed you by your shirt and pushed you into the wall that was behind you. 
“Because I’m telling you to that’s why, don’t you ever just shut up.” You could tell he was pissed off.
“I- I just wante-”
“Shut up!” he gripped your shirt tighter until the collar part was tight around your neck. Your face felt red and you felt the heat grow in between your legs.
He looked at you up and down and took his hand off your shirt and replaced it on your neck pressing slightly on the sides of your throat. 
The lack of air made you lightheaded and yet you were still turned on by him. You wish you could see his face it has been too long and the image of what he looked like was blurry in your mind.
“Do you like when I do that lovely?” Your eye involuntarily rolled back as his pet name for you came out of his mouth. You shook your head, yes and his grip tightened on your neck leaving you with short breaths of air.
“Oh, you can’t talk now? That’s not going to work.” He pushed you further into the wall and used his other hand to mess with the bottom of your shirt.
“Since you don’t want to talk I guess you’re not going to need your mouth, right?
All you could do was stare into his mask and say a small yes.
He chuckled as you slid down to your knees for the second time that week.
You grabbed the buttons to his pants and quickly undid them, once you got rid of them you pulled out his cock him growing harder by the second.
It seemed all too familiar you on your knees for him, him towering over you. You had no idea what to think of all this it was too much too quickly. But that didn’t mean that you didn’t want him to fuck your mouth.
You grabbed his cock and pulled it down to meet your mouth, you tried to fit as much as you could but in reality, he was too big. As soon as that thought appeared in your head he grabbed the back of your head and started to fuck your mouth.
“You’re going to take all of it isn’t that right lovely?” he growled.
You hummed in response causing him to groan at the new sensation he just forced himself deeper into your mouth. His tip hitting the back of your throat as you just made obscene noises.
“Next time you will learn to speak when spoken to, right?” 
You bobbed your head up and down and he laughed.
“You’re such a pretty thing when you’re like this, stuffed with my cock and obeying me. Does this make you wet lovely?” 
He knew it did the way you squeezed your thighs to relieve some pressure and the way your eyes rolled back everytime he called you lovely.
He didn’t soften his pace he kept fucking your mouth until he suddenly pulled out he was breathing hard as he lazily stroked himself. 
“Do you think you deserve my cum after talking back to your Supreme Leader.”
At that moment that was all you wanted, somehow seeing the Supreme Leader of the Galaxy like this all you wanted was to pleasure him.
“Please Supreme Leader.” your voice strained from feeling embarrassed and from him fucking your throat raw.
“If you say so.” He slammed his cock back into your mouth at an unrelenting speed until he came in your mouth. You swallowed every drop he gave you but he left his softening dick in your mouth, warming it for him. 
“Just so you know I can do whatever I want to your mouth because as of right now I own it. So I can stay here all day while you’re on your knees warming my cock.”
You looked at him through your eyelashes, tears still flowing down your cheeks from gagging so much. 
“But I think you showed that you can learn, isn't that right lovely?” He questioned as you let himself out of your mouth
“Yes Supreme Leader.” He chuckled at how fast you responded.
“Perfect lovely.” He picked you up until you were able to stand on your own. He took a look at you, your hair probably a mess and the same clothes you had on from work. He took a little longer looking at your thighs. 
You glanced down seeing that you had a wet spot in between your legs from how wet you were. Your face turned red with embarrassment and you tried to turn around to prevent yourself from being seen but Kylo turned you so you were stuck facing him.
“Do I make you feel that good?” He emphasizes the word ‘that’. He slowly pushed you back until the back of your legs hit the base of the bed. He brought his hand up a switch in his mask and pressed it. You heard the gears turning in the mask as he took it off finally revealing his face.
“You’ve been listening so well lovely, let me make you feel good… let me taste you.”
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randall-flaggg · 3 years
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Oh hell Randy is posting his kin list
Kin list
Selfhood: Randall Flagg (all versions)
Kins (highest to lowest): Trashcan Man, Harold Lauder, Jame Gumb, Brady Hartsfield, [Redacted], Artimage Hux
Otherkin: Dire wolf, Peppered Moth, Crow
Low kin: Bill Cipher, Isaac Chroner, Michael Langdon, Lucifer (Supernatural), Rose the Hat
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countessren · 4 years
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Reading @gryffindorwriter ‘Rebel / Artimage Hux x Reader’ has literally given me life. I love it so much. It is beautifully written and I would highly reccomend reading it!
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starwarsfangirl · 4 years
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kylo-wrecked · 4 years
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@reyjustrey //:  🌚  a response to a thing 
And when I awoke I was alone This bird had flown
{ 13:00, Ben's flat, East Yavin City }
Nobody had gone in or out of flat 1502 for over a week, but there was hallway traffic aplenty. Folks in scarves, hoods, and sunglasses loitered in the long, gray corridors for hours grasping at a chance to break in or catch a glimpse of the man who might walk out. They came and went at all times of the day, knocking hands and mouths against the door, crying, playing music, leaving stuffed bears and other dollar store knick-knacks willy-nilly in the halls until a next-door neighbor alerted security. 
In the days following the Stone expose, every magazine from PAPER to People pushed one 'shocking!' anecdote after another. 'Unmasked' might well have been 'Kylo Ren's' surname. But it was The Daily Jabba, the trashy, flashy international tabloid that had published Ben's home address. 
When fans could no longer infiltrate the luxury complex with their bodies, they sent fan mail. Fat manila envelopes littered Ben's doormat. Chic, laser-cut calling cards--there were piles. Bras and briefs, and a cock-shaped baguette. Splashes of cheap bouquets. And as the days passed, a small Jenga tower of unopened packages began to form around the front door. 
Yet nobody had gone in or out of flat 1502 until the beginning of July, when a red-headed man carrying a brown paper bag ambled down the hall, toppled the boxes with a pointed shoe, and let himself in. The foyer was dark and stagnant. Not an altogether pleasant place to be, but the man who entered did not appear altogether pleasant either. His clothes were impeccable, dark in that pretentious, self-prepossessing fashion. The neck, the face untouched by sun, cornered, and rather haughty. The red-headed man studied the hall with sluicy blue eyes, then strode through the bedroom door. 
He recoiled as though he'd been struck, dropped the brown bag onto a chaotic drafting board, loosing crumpled papers and sending brittle brush markers flying everywhere. Then the red-headed man had a bit of a fight with the window. Only when he'd forced it open did he approach the lump in the bed. The red-headed man did not look pleased. His keen blue eyes dulled, mouth puckered in disdain. 
"It reeks in here," the man said. "Mosh pits smell better."
He tossed the keys onto the lump, which groaned. 
"Armie? That you? Kind of you to join us." 
The lump sounded rather drunk. Armie--Armitage Hux, it was an old family name, really--contemplated the daylight streaming through the blinds, then the bed.
"You're a mess," he said. "Get up."
"Hand over the grub first," the lump protested.
"Under no circumstances are you eating tacos in Egyptian linen." Armitage sneered. "I'll leave them out," he sighed and turned to leave the room. 
Ben emerged from his cocoon of blankets and pillows a second later, red-eyed and rumpled in a stained gray crew neck and a pair of black designer sweats. He had a five-day beard and a gaunt look about him. Sort of swayed when he got to his feet. 
"Beautiful butterfly, you," Artimage deadpanned. 
- ☾ -
The ruins of a Tex-Mex lunch languished on the coffee table in the living room. Some posh acrylic slab Ben's interior designer insisted he ‘must have’ smack in the center of it. This, on the basis that it would organically draw the eye to the panoramic of Yavin Central Park. The famous view had lopped an additional five-figures onto the mortgage. Now it was obscured by heavy gray voile. The curtains were clammed shut, and the remote laid in taco-shell shards on the floor. 
Ben was a splitting seam. He told Armitage everything, every excruciating granule of detail; from the first time he broke an electric string, to the moment Ben knew he would never attend the Cairn Conservatory of Music. And how he fell into Snoke’s illicit side-hustle--the terrible thing he’d done. The sheet music burning a hole in his underwear drawer. 
Ben told this to Armitage Hux, the lights guy, the last person in the world Ben expected to tell. Perhaps it was easier to tell someone with whom he had only a working relationship. There was a balance of freedom and intimacy to confiding in a person from the outer rim of his personal life. Armitage even listened, to Ben’s every tangent, to every hitch in his voice, each minute cycle of fragility. When he was done, Armitage leaned back in his seat. 
"Have you always been this way?" His lips perked at the corners. A smile. Ben found it hard to believe, even if the proof was there. 
"I don't know," Ben groaned, raking a hand through his hair, then over his face. "Probably." He sheepishly brushed the crumbs off his end of the sofa sectional. Kylo Ren's black symmetrical sectional. The one his ex picked out. It didn't feel like his. Never had. The Knights, the name 'Kylo Ren,' was all a fucking gambit, Snoke's pet conceit right from the start. Nothing had ever belonged to Ben, and he had never belonged to anyone. And all he had wanted-- 
Ben's chest constricted. He stifled a sob. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. Once he 'd swallowed it, everything in his body seemed to calcify. His posture and face hardened, and he sat motionlessly, adjacent to Armitage, as though he weren't in the room. 
Armitage's eyes followed Ben's dead-eyed glare to where a spume of bottle-green glass and a purple, brownish muck glistened under the track lights. He then stared reproachfully at the island counter. An uncapped bottle of the same make sat half-drunk. But when Armitage made mention--
"What the fuck about it, Hux? Huh?" Ben snapped. His eyes were alive again, and vividly angry. 
Armitage raised his eyebrows and quickly steered the subject toward the new developments at F.O. Records. The Knights' publicity agent, Gwen, had handled the press as best she could, putting a stopper on the flood of tabloid media, pulling down images and articles and addresses across the net. She was known as Phasma in the industry for her ability to make things disappear. Now, Hux said, only the grainy photo from the Rolling Stone article remained. 
"You're like Bigfoot," Armitage told him, very reassuringly. 
Ben sunk further into the sofa. 
"She's never going to talk to me again," he muttered. The thought hit Ben like a fist to his gut. 
"She--the Johnson girl?" Armitage seemed genuinely surprised (and, Ben thought, a little disheartened. He didn't have the wherewithal to address it just then and opted to leave it alone.) "So that was real, then?"
Ben choked.
"Oh, honestly," Armitage scoffed, dismayed. "Come off it. No one's died and you're rich as the Devil. Just ring her." 
"Make her understand," he went on. "You're scum, and you've always been scum. If she truly likes you, she may forgive you for it." 
Ben hadn't the energy to explain that he'd tried, maybe sixty times. That she'd never picked up. Not once. He sighed miserably and gestured to the shattered black mirror that was once his phone. Armitage hardly bothered to glance, then there--just there--was the same slightly crestfallen expression from earlier. As though he himself were nursing something broken. Ben looked away. 
A few moments of awkward silence passed between them, stretching into several minutes, then several more. Artimage tapped out frantic emails on his tablet, and Ben slumped cross-legged in the corner of the sofa, clutching a cushion against his chest. Wondering whether or not to get up and retrieve that wine--was it wine? He had no idea, actually. It had probably gone sour. Someone had given it to him at a premiere some time ago, and he'd only just opened it yesterday. Or maybe that was Wednesday...
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After a beat, Armitage looked up. "Are you trying to get yourself sacked?" 
This riled Ben from his somber reverie. 
"What?" he croaked. Wasn’t he finished? Dead in the water? The band still wanted him? Snoke still wanted him? 
"You haven't gone to rehearsal. I'm talking to Devon* now; he says your custom is collecting dust. Mister DeGraw, Pryde. Hello. Do you want to be fired?" Armitage waved the tablet in front of Ben's face. Ben batted it away.
"Let'em," he growled. "I'd like to see what they come up with without me." 
"You have to play, Solo," Armitage said, resolutely. "Even if you break your contract, you must keep up with it. It's the only thing you have a special talent for, don't fritter it away. You give in to your emotions too easily. It's what got you into this balls-up in the first place."
It was Ben's turn to look surprised. 
"Why, Armie. I didn't know you felt that way. Since when the kriff do you care?" 
Armitage lilted. "If anything happened to you, I'd be out of a job. I won’t work with just anyone, you know."
Ben sniffled, then laughed. Kriff, it felt so good to tell someone about what a complete ogre he was, just to talk to a person! And with the awkward moment well behind them, Armitage bounded up from the couch with a cunning smirk, his face pinked by the revelation of some newfound strategy.  
"You're going to play something for me, Ben," he declared. "We'll see if you're up to code." 
"No" Ben rasped, pressing himself further into the sofa corner (if that were possible.) "God, no. I can't." 
Armitage ignored this and strode off determinedly to find the music room. 
"And," he called back, "if you've still got it, we'll hop in Dolores* and set off to find your Johnson -, not that one, bucket-brain. The lovely girl with the overwrought piano songs. 'She.'"
In the dusty closet grey closet one might call a home studio, Armitage discovered an old Road Runner guitar stand under a sheet. Then he carefully selected a vintage Martin dreadnought and brought it back with him to the living room. The instrument was a 12-string with Brazilian-rosewood back and sides, ivory-bound body and neck, and beautiful fretboard inlays. When Ben saw it, he groaned.
"No. No, and no." He said.
Armitage thrust the instrument at him. 
"Yes! Wait until she sees you. Look at your hair. That mustache. You're utterly pathetic."
Ben grazed his thumb across his chin.  "Should I--Shouldn't I clean up?"
"Why? So she thinks you're getting along jolly well without her? Haven't you lied enough? Show her the mess that you are!" Artimage cried in a mocking, breathy voice. He shoved the Martin at Ben. "Right, well. I've got a request. Please and thanks."
"Norwegian Wood," he demanded, returning to his perch on the sectional. "Now go." 
Ben grumbled at the unwanted guitar Artimage had so graciously shoved into his lap, but he couldn't resist running his fingers along the strings. Eventually, they took up an easy strum, a half-hearted but steady cadence. And, gradually, picked up the tempo, his large, calloused hands moving across the ivory neck. He handled it gently, like a soft, fleshy thing, something he could hold, and hurt. With no options other than to die or sing, Ben chose to sing. 
At first, Armitage kept rhythm with his heel, and Ben leaned into it as he bashed out the chords, his (somewhat leaner) frame hunched over the guitar. He hummed Harrison's famous sitar melody acapella, and on the bridge, in uncommon choice, sung only the harmony. His voice was weighty, and the dreadnought was a little off tune, as he hardly played acoustic these days, and couldn't be bothered with a tuner, and it gave the song a mournful, hazy tenor. 
When Ben finished, the room was quiet with his music, and Artimage Hux's eyes were glittering. 
- ☾ -
It began raining on their way to West Yavin. Armitage plowed Dolores through flash-floods, her shiny red body drove through those oh-so-familiar sheets of rain as the wet-season revealed itself once more, like a young woman peeling off her slip. 
"These people." Artimage huffed, swerving down a hairpin turn. "Learn how to bloody drive!" he yelled at no one in particular. 
"Oh, come on," he moaned when the street light turned yellow. 
Ben was riding shotgun, zipped knee to head in a matte black slicker. Ben turned in towards the window. He could just make out that cafe. What was it? The Wetyin Forester. They were getting closer.
Ben gazed through the windshield wipers forlornly. 
"Armitage," he said quietly. "I don’t want to do this." 
Armitage Hux would hear none of it. Problems of this sort needed to be faced head-on, with precision and promptness, God-willing. They arrived shortly. Artimage sniffed at the pre-war building.
"Can't exactly say I'm gobsmacked," he drawled. "Let me guess; she's the flat with the little white planters?" 
Ben elbowed him, and they went up. The climb to Rey’s apartment was agonizing, every step, every moment, Ben wanted to turn down, go home, or, hopefully, slip and hit his head on the stairs. After a couple of minor detours, they made it to the correct floor and hall; Armitage, scowling, sour-faced, holding his umbrella away from his slacks; Ben, dripping, his fist poised over Rey’s front door for another few horrible moments, until finally, he knocked. 
_____
Devon*: Ben’s bandmate, the drummer. Loosely based on my OC, Draede Ren.
Dolores*: Hux’s Hummer :^) 
edited
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86thfloormusic · 5 years
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Behind the scenes on set for Star Wars High: Battle of the Bands
Click here to watch the video! 
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