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WISH LIST
★ my dark au kink:
+ being captured by the first order and subjected to reconditioning
+ trying to turn him back with the power of gay love and friendship (and possibly failing)
+ he was always a first order tie fighter pilot instead of winter soldiered
+ poe and finn first order murder squad (dynamics if they were both stormtroopers? running away together?)
+ ^ part b: the fam that gets captured and reconditioned together… stays…together…
+ Interesting Dynamics with kylo and hux from dark aus
★ finn stuff
+ what will they do after the war? romantic vacations? homesteading? sending finn's spit to space 23andme?
+ infinite escape reimagining/aus, stormpilot escape room reigning champions
★ rey stuff
+ relationship of convenience because they're both In Denial
+ sith princess rey aus where he tries to save her and/or she turns him
★ kylo stuff
+ infinite interrogating/torture room reimagining/aus
+ ^ part b: stockholm syndrome?
+ We Need to Talk about Leia
★ general
+ honestly anything regarding leia (esp processing grief post-tros)
+ talking about his sketchy spice runner past (possibly playing things taking place during that time in his life?)
+ ^ same for things taking place during academy/new republic tbh
+ i love aus. modern aus, vampire aus, a/b/o aus, let's au the entire world
+ i prefer m/m for poe but am good with most ships
kinks if ya nasty
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After a few minutes more she dismisses the officer, having heard all she needs for the time being. Kylo beckons the troopers closer with Poe, relaxing against her dark throne, and a little smirk starts to curve her lips. ]
I trust all went without incident?
"Yes, Supreme Leader."
Wonderful. Just what I like to hear. [ Her gaze moves from the trooper who had spoken to Poe and she regards him quietly a moment before returning her eyes to the troopers. ] That will be all. You may return to your duties.
[ Kylo is quiet until they're left alone, the Knights by the door stepping out as well, and then all her attention focuses on Poe. ] Your anger is rather delectable, you know. We'll see how long it takes to dissolve into the fear that it hides. [ After a pause she decides to give him one small bit of solace, since he did attempt to play her earlier game in the shuttle. ] The droid is shortly to be on its way back to the Resistance. Unharmed, personality in tact. I do have to wonder though if it's capable of understanding that you attempted to barter your life for its.
[ 'Attempted' only because his life was forfeit as soon as he was captured. ]
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He's not — of course he would be. If he knew.
[ bb-8 was like a child. naive in some ways, but always curious. always clever. (sometimes too clever.)
but, he knew ... even if droids couldn't express emotions like grief, they could still feel them. the last time they saw each other, they were being carted off to their own separate gruesome ends. besides that, bb-8 would be able to look at whatever message kylo and the first order uploaded into him. he knew poe wasn't going to come back this time.
the thought of that made his heart hurt. but he'd rather his droid be hurting than wiped blank or broken into scrap metal. ]
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The droid may know, or find out, in any case. [ She purposefully refers to his droid as a thing and not a person, like he is. ] I'm sending it back with a little message.
[ Changing the subject, she makes an idle gesture at the room around them. ] It's nice, isn't it? Suitable for a galactic ruler. Snoke favored nearly all blacks but I thought it needed more red. Just some splashes. Kind of like fresh blood on the polished floor. [ There's something about the way she says the last sentence that sounds like foreshadowing. ]
You'll become plenty familiar with this room, as with others. The torture room with all my toys isn't far. What you went through in interrogation before is nothing. Droids break, but I can keep going for hours. And I'm very, very creative. [ The smirk returns to her lips and she beckons him closer, reaching out through the Force to pull him toward the throne. And once he's close enough she reaches out with one hand to curl her fingers in his shirt and physically pull him right in front of her. Personal space? Nonexistent with her.
Her eyes run over his face as she speaks again. ] Earlier you said I wouldn't break you, but we both know that's a lie. I can break your mind and your body, and I can put you back together to do it all over again. If I want I can break you and mold you into the perfect little pet. Erase every thought about the Resistance and the war from your mind, take away everything you know until there's only me. How does that sound, Dameron? Obeying me because you want to. Doing any little thing I tell you to without question. Living to serve my every whim.
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but he can't. he can't lie anymore — not because of the force, either. he can't lie to himself anymore. he knows he can't fight it. he's tried. tried and lost, as if there could have been any other outcome. ]
I'd rather die.
[ for someone who isn't actively suicidal, he keeps turning to death as the solution for his problems. but ... after so long, it keeps feeling more and more like it may be the only solution. the only way he can get out while still holding on to his sense of self.
his body isn't locked in place by the force, he realizes. he could struggle against her, run away. but to where? he'd never make it to a shuttle. he'd never make it out of this room. he felt paralyzed by something else. the same thing that's keeping his heart racing and his breathing shallow. it's that fear taking over, relenting to the knowledge that she's right. ]
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[ Humming a thoughtful noise, she tilts her head as she looks at him and lifts her hand to the side of his face. Almost daring him to brush off her touch, turn away, anything. She can taste the fear from him and it makes her eyes darken, thrilling and delighting her. ] You can't deny it now, can you? The truth that's hovered in the back of your mind from the moment your ship was caught. No one's coming to rescue you. No one's going to help you escape. No miracle is going to occur to free you.
You're mine, Dameron. I can, and will, do anything I want to you. Your life is mine and I will keep you alive as long as I care to, and there's nothing you can do to stop me.
[ Kylo smiles then. It's genuine but dark, the way a beast might smile before it devours the feast laid before it. And what a feast she has before her. ]
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worse than that, was knowing that she was right in the sense that he was hers. he couldn't fight against it. nobody else could help him — except rey, maybe — and she certainly wasn't here right now. placing his eggs in that basket felt futile. there was no guarantee that she would come, or that it wouldn't be too late if she did. (he didn't like that thought. the thought of "too late."
what can he do? what's left? there are no big battles to be won here. as in, he can't leave. he can't take down kylo ren. any fighting, any noncompliance, has to be done on the micro level.
so he takes a chance. he reaches for her wrist to pull her hand away. ]
Don't touch me.
[ "don't touch me" was a sad argument in the face of "your life is mine," but it's all he has. it's all that he feels like he can control. ]
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[ She lets him pull her hand from his face before she twists her wrist in his grasp, not to break it but to grab a wrist in turn. Her grip is only strong enough to hold on, more of a mirrored grip than anything else. A small way of not letting him have entirely what he wants for the moment. At least for the time being her other hand remains harmless resting on the arm of her throne. ]
You know, you could have tried to barter for that when trying to convince me to let your droid go. Well, more the opposite, really. You could have offered your body rather than your life. [ The remark comes as Kylo shifts her eyes away from his face to drag her gaze over the rest of him, not remotely trying to hide it. ] Although if we want to get technical you sort of did by first offering anything.
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the truth was, he hadn't considered it as an option because he wasn't really interested in women that way. it hadn't even registered as a blip on his radar.
he pulls his wrist back (or tries to), expression settling down into his usual baseline of contempt. ]
Sorry, not interested.
pretends i shouldn't be running out the door to work in minutes :x
Her lips press together in another smirk, a brow arching at the expression on his face. It's almost cute, really. A trace of innocence soon to wither and die. ]
As if that even slightly matters. Particularly at this point in time.
[ When he tries to pull out of her grasp she only tightens her grip, giving a slight tug in return to keep him close. Kylo shifts her position in the throne, sitting more properly with feet flat on the ground, legs parting so he stands between them, taking away another small bit of space that remains between them. She leans forward, purposely putting herself almost nose-to-nose with him to make him uncomfortable, her dark eyes on his. ]
Protest all you like, it's not going to help in that any more than when it comes time for me to sink a blade into you. What bothers you? The worry that I might be right about that too? That you might learn to crave me, need me? Sounds like a fun experiment. To see how long it takes before no means yes without my powers swaying your mind.
Of course, I think I've already proved I can make your body obey me without affecting what you really think... [ Her other hand moves then, splaying upon his stomach, and there's something almost threatening about what could otherwise be a relatively innocent motion. ]
👌
either way, she succeeds in making him uncomfortable. she's so close, too close. and she has his wrist, so he can't move back. he can't even imagine what she's talking about. needing her. impossible. every cell in his body wants to revolt against it. even her hand pressed against his stomach makes him want to recoil. he doesn't, but he wants to. his insides do. ]
C'mon, stop.
[ his witty retorts take a steep decline in quality. they aren't working. it's a game he can't win. telling her to sink the blade in wouldn't get him his way. that's the only other alternative his mind can come up with. and "stop" certainly isn't going to actually get her to stop, but it's all that comes out. it's the fear bubbling its way up to the surface. ]
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After a moment Kylo tilts her head, almost like she might try to kiss him, however instead she leans to speak next to his ear. Though her voice lowers it remains every bit as predatory. ]
Would you like a choice in something? I bet you're yearning for one. [ She pauses as her eyes close, breathing in deep the scent of him. The fear and discontent, the faint trace of anger that failed to keep the fear at bay, and the scent of him beneath it all. Such a delicious cocktail. ] You can have a night's reprieve, but you have to offer me something worthwhile in return. Something you'll give and not be made to do with my power.
Or... you can protest some more and I'll take you right here, right now. [ Her hand shifts, fingers curling in the waistband of his pants with clear intent. ] And when I'm through you'll be sent to a cell to wallow in your pain and anguish.
[ Kylo draws back then. She even releases her hold on him, relaxing back against the throne. There's an expectant look on her face as her gaze settles on him. ] Your choice, Poe.
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the choice isn't much of a choice. he knows it, and he knows that she meant for it to be that way. he's fully aware of this being just another game to her. he doesn't even try to step back when she lets go of him. she'll just pull him back in again, probably.
instead, he purses his lips in a thin line, exhaling through his nose. he knows what he's going to choose. he already knew, as soon as she laid the options out. but it doesn't make it any easier. he wanted the choice. he wanted to be in control of his own actions. even if the thought of whatever those actions might be left him feeling sick to his stomach. a new and exciting opportunity to feel disgust at himself instead of at her. ]
Did you have something in mind, or am I supposed to surprise you?
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And oh, how she loves that she actually can follow through with whatever her mind conjures up now that there's no one looming over her, seeking to direct her themselves. ] It wouldn't be much of a choice if I specifically told you what to do, now would it?
I will make good on the promise of a reprieve. That's a real incentive, not an illusion. A reward. [ Because all good subjects and pets need a little reward and positive reinforcement from time to time. It'll be a good one, but she's not going to give him any further details. Just in case she feels his decision doesn't merit the full reward she has in mind. ]
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[ he knows what she means. what she's expecting. (something sexual.) at least, he feels relatively certain. there's not much room for interpretation.
and he tenses up because, it occurs to him that ... they're in the throne room? is this really the best place for this? but then, it's kylo's throne room, isn't it. and it doesn't really matter, in the grand scheme of things. he's going to feel shitty about himself regardless of whether knights of ren come in to watch or not.
so he lowers himself down on his knees. he took a split second to weigh his options, and decided this was the best one, since it was the one where he'd have the least total contact with her. and could keep his own pants firmly on.
it's at that point he considers asking her to take off her whole pants situation to expedite the process, but he feels like that would end poorly for him. instead, he reaches up to her hips/waist area and does an exploratory feel for buttons/zippers/etc. if he tries hard enough to dissociate, maybe he won't have to put actual thought into what he's doing. ]
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Any comments she might have are kept to herself for the time being. There's no need to provoke, not now. Not when he's listening and not fighting.
The pants have a button and zipper closure, although they're rather snug. Beneath are a simple pair of black panties. (the Star Wars equivalent of Victoria's Secret gets saved for special occasions, or at least that's her excuse.) For her part, Kylo doesn't make things more difficult for him. She lifts her hips when necessary so the fabric can be pulled down and out of the way. Nor does she touch him, though it requires restraint.
Her eyes are on him though, following every movement. But she's only looking, not searching his thoughts or seeking to influence his mind. Although if she knew of his wondering at a potential audience she might have considered recalling the Knights. ]
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but he does it. when he's done pulling down her pants, his hands stay locked at her hips. and then he goes in, tongue first, looking for her clit. for the record: he has never done this for a woman before. or, anything with a woman before. in general. but he knows enough. the gist of it. and he's good with his mouth. once he susses out a rhythm for strokes, he keeps with it.
with that minimal amount of thought, he lets himself stop thinking completely. white noise and blank space. maybe he's somewhere else. with someone else. it doesn't matter, as long as he doesn't have to be here. ]
icon game on point as always
She sighs quietly at the initial touch, smiling a little to herself as she commits the sight before her to memory. It does become clear, however, that he has a certain lack of experience. Something that actually surprises her at first... and then her mind shifts to how she could make it benefit her. An 'apprentice' in the bedroom didn't sound so bad, assuming she had the patience. At the very least it meant there weren't any learned behaviors or preferences from ex-girlfriends for her to do away with.
Eventually one hand moves to wind fingers into his hair and she helps guide him. She does vaguely sense when he mentally checks out, and though it makes her eyes narrow slightly she doesn't force his full attention back. With the inexperience she doubts it would make a difference, at least not in the positive, so she allows it this time. He didn't deserve it, but she knows there will be plenty of time to make him remain mentally present for activities. Plenty of time to teach and show and bend him to her will and whims.
As release nears her grip tightens on his hair, hips lifting toward his mouth. Her breathing's picked up, eyes having fallen shut some time after her head tipped back against the throne. A quiet whine rises in the back of her throat and fleetingly she's taken with the urge to shove him back on the floor and ride him to completion. Only that would break the rules of her little game. He was doing his part, even if he wasn't particularly enthusiastic about it. Her flicker of frustration manifests in the way she holds him close, hips grinding against his tongue as release finally washes over her. ]
i try my best
there's a lot going on, on a sensory level. a sharp but pleasant pain from her hand in his hair. spit and her arousal sliding down his chin and getting all over his face as he moves around. feeling her hips as he digs his fingers in.
he's in control. he's the one doing this to her.
as he lets himself get into it, he becomes aware of discomfort in his pants. which is THE WORST THING and the polar opposite of what he wanted to happen. he feels a twinge of nausea with the realization that his body is actively betraying him, but it's drowned out by the loudness of every over sensation. ]
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Even as she sinks back against the throne she can feel desire still winding through her. More so, actually. He's exceeding her expectations for the instance and it makes her want to stay in the moment, to milk it as long as she can because next time he's bound to fight, and while that will turn her on in an entirely different way that's not what right now is about. Her hand is still in his hair, not holding tight so much as cupping the back of his head. Silent encouragement that his mouth is right where she wants it to be. ]
Keep going... [ It's not much of a demand with the breathless tone of her voice. From anyone else it'd be easy to call it a request and assume there's a 'please' implied.
Her body's sensitive and flush with heat in the wake of release, her breath hitching when his tongue touches her clit. A sweet mix of pleasure and pain that sends a shiver along her spine and makes a soft moan fall from her lips. Her other hand, having been holding on to the arm of the throne, moves to her own body, sliding up over her top to cup a breast and squeeze as his motions cause her back to arch.
She doesn't want him to stop. She doesn't know what she'll do if he does, but truthfully she's not even thinking of that right now. All she's thinking of is yes and more and how good he feels. ]
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but he can do it. he wants to do it. he can almost forget it's awful thanks to his newfound sense of control over her.
almost. because while she's intensely feeling all his ministrations, he's fighting his own personal battle. maybe while she's in the throes of passion, she won't notice if one hand ... slides away from her hip ... down to his pants. he's not going to unzip or unbutton. that would be admitting defeat. maybe he can get away with this. this being rubbing himself through his clothing. he can't even think about ruining his pants. ruining his pants is worth avoiding the humiliation of the admission that he got turned on enough to jerk one out in front of her. ]
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Wrapped up in her own pleasure, she doesn't yet notice that he has need to tend to his own arousal. She felt the absence of his hand, a brief chill setting in where he'd touched her, but it doesn't register as something needing to be paid attention to. Not when his mouth is still working her over and the next wave of release is building ever higher. It's there for her to notice though if she cares to; a secondary pulse of arousal and need in the energy around them. But her own need is loud in her mind, and she's not often apt to particularly care if someone else gets off. Not unless it's part of inflicting humiliation or mind games, not unless it's of value to her somehow.
Her pulse is racing and she moans quietly, her fingers curling again in his hair. She squirms a little, shifting, and one leg lifts to drape over his shoulder. If he's hating this, she certainly can't tell. All signs point to some level of enjoyment and later she's going to relish in that little fact. And use it against him, definitely. ]
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he feels lightheaded and is fully aware of why. the reason is tightening in his pants.
speaking of that, he's still trying. trying to rub through the fabric, but it's too thick. the feeling is too indistinct. frustrating more than it is relieving. so he has to one-handedly unbutton and unzip, actions shaky and delayed because of his split focus. but he manages. his hand finds its way down under his pants and his underwear and it's such a relief. water in a desert. it would feel even better if he weren't determined to keep his pants at least mostly on, but he's still trying to maintain restraint on that front.
before he can stop or control it (if he even had the mental awareness to), he moans his own moan. maybe she wouldn't hear it, muffled as it was. or feel it. he tries to make up for the lapsed seconds by going even harder with the tongue strokes.
in the back of his mind, buried in the part that's dulled out and muted, he knew he'd been planning to get her off as quickly as possible. in and out, "favor" done. but now ... he wanted to drag it out. just a little longer. just until he could get his. ]
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Not interested, hmm? I think the maiden protests a little too much. She smirks to herself, aware now of the arousal in the air that isn't her own. It's tempting to say something, do something, but honestly what he's doing feels too good for her to want to make him stop in any way. Knowing he's turned on enough to need to touch himself gives her a rush that only intensifies what she's feeling.
A curse falls from her lips as her body quivers, getting close again, her head tipping back once more and eyes shutting to focus on sensation. She holds tight to his hair, her other hand gripping at the arm of the throne, half trying to brace herself against the impending release. Her breaths come quicker and her hips arch toward him, unable to stay still. It's not more than another minute or two before she gasps loudly, body tensing and then shuddering as her climax hits. The pleasure is just this side of pain and she savors every moment of it.
She sinks back against the throne as her body gradually stops twitching and shaking, breathing heavy. Her fingers release his hair but her hand lingers, somewhat absently stroking his hair. It's almost affectionate in the wake of her release. ]
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and there it is. just out of tune with her orgasm. escaping notice was a lost cause from the start, probably, but it's finalized here. finalized in the sharp gasp he takes as he pulls his face away. first there are the good feelings. warm sparks flooding his body, the way sound turns to white noise for a moment or two. the warmth flooding his pants that feels nice now, but will feel significantly less nice in a few minutes. he's at least vaguely aware of that.
with that awareness comes a few other realizations that pierce though how suddenly bone-crushingly tired he is. all the spit and arousal all over his face is cold. his jaw is sore. her hand in his hair feels nice, but it shouldn't. nothing about this was okay. now that it's over, his brain comes back online just to to remind him of how wrong this was and how disgusted with himself he should be. ]
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Her eyes flicker open in time to catch a hint of pleasure in his expression after his release and her lips curve into a satisfied smile. It makes her all the more glad she didn't call upon any of her abilities for this. Just simple verbal coercion, though ultimately he chose what to do. She didn't make him enjoy it or get aroused; that's all on him, and she knows neither of them will forget it.
She moves her leg from his shoulder, more out of her own comfort than his, and despite her body's desire to remain languid and slouched she pushes herself to sit up and lean forward a bit. The hand that's been in his hair moves so she can trail her fingers along his jaw, thumb sweeping across his swollen and slick lips before drawing her hand back. ]
Such a delightful mess. [ She practically purrs as her eyes run over him, bringing her hand up so she can lick her fingertips. Her smile widens to a grin as she eyes the obvious result of his orgasm. ] Mmm, glad you enjoyed yourself as much as I did.
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I thought she was ready to give him a few hours peace but I guess not
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thought we might be due for a different kind of evil >.>
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