A/N: Here’s the bonus ‘if Kylo Ren had a full blown panic attack’ alterative thing the OP asked for. So I’ve never experienced a panic attack associated with another touching me (all of mine being more based on social anxiety and “oh god too many people GET ME OUT”) so if I messed up anything in this I’m sorry. Also the thing they used to break his heat is bad for him (current idea: it stops him from being able to use suppressants ever again) & that’s why they didn’t use it in the main. It’s literally a last resort. The bonus epilogue is still not written yet (if you follow my tumblr you probably know why - its the same reason this took so long to get its final edit done), but I haven’t abandoned it just... have other things to write that take priority.
Dameron’s hands are on him. His hands and lips are mapping out paths on Ren’s skin. Exploring the new territory and claiming it as his own with every press of finger and touch of lip.
And Kylo cannot do this. He just cannot. He doesn’t care that not doing so will literally kill him. Does not care if it makes him weak or a coward. Doesn’t care if it means that he has failed the Supreme Leader’s teaching and that he will never obtain his true strength. He does not care because he cannot do this.
He does care. Of course he does. He cares so much and that is making this all so worse. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to be weak or a coward. He doesn’t want any of that but he also doesn’t want this. Also cannot stand the touches on his body. The feeling of Poe discovering the mountains of his hips bones or the ponds that is the places on his thighs where his river of slick has decided to gather.
He wants to push him off. Wants to scream at him to get off. Wants to fight and run and get away from this all and go back to when he was Kylo Ren, so hopped up on suppressants that many believed him an alpha.
He can’t though. Cannot seem to get his vocal chords within command. Cannot seem to get his body to respond to the demands that it move. He is trapped within the frozen muscles under his skin and his lungs burn from his failure to even drag oxygen in to fuel the fires that keep him alive.
He is frozen and Dameron’s touch feels like fire and there is nothing he can do to stop him. Not when his arms will not raise at his request. Not when the pheromones are suffocating them all and he is going to die before this is through. He just knows it. His body will burn either from Dameron’s touch or its own flames grown all consuming. And he can feel those flames growing. Feel them now his breathing is back. Too fast to actually allow oxygen into his lungs but fast enough to keep pouring more onto the fires of his heat and the pyre that will be his end.
“Ben?”
The flames must have consumed his hearing and sight because he cannot be sure if it is Dameron’s voice behind those words. Cannot be sure if it is even him still touching him or if he has been traded for the traitor. Or maybe traded for someone else. Why not? Get all the resistance members in and let them fuck the villainous Kylo Ren while he’s wet and ready for them. Make him beg for them all.
His skin feels ice cold though. The fire burning him only from within. He cannot feel the burning touch of another on his skin so maybe there is none. Or maybe the internal flames have reached such strength that even if someone was touching him it would not compare.
“Ben you need to breathe.”
Breathing only seems to fuel his heat. Only makes it burn stronger. Makes his suffering worse. Maybe if he stops breathing it will be over sooner. If he stops breathing the flames will not get the oxygen they require and will extinguish. He doesn’t care if they take him with them as long as this is over.
“Finn, go get the General. Come on Ben, at least look at me.”
How can he look at him if he cannot see? His world is plunged into darkness and the deafening beat of his heart as it pumps the molten heat through his body.
“Come on. Open your eyes. That’s all I’m asking.”
He had not shut them but his eyes are shut. He realises it when he opens them and can see Dameron’s concerned face. Dameron kneeling in front of the ball he has apparently also curled himself into without noticing. At the sight of the alpha his heat demands submission. Demands he try and look appealing and get back on the track he deviated from in his distress. He’s a coward, a weak foolish coward. He swears these words are in the Supreme Leader’s voice. This is just another failure on a very long list. The final piece of a puzzle of screw ups that reveal the image of his true nature. If he was stronger he could control his body. If he was stronger he could quash the heat and continue being Kylo Ren instead of a fertile omega in the hands of the resistance. If he was stronger he could grit his teeth and bear the mating no matter how unpleasant it was. Instead he is weak and cannot even endure when his enemies are spoiling him with kindness.
“No. Don’t do that. You gotta’ stop thinking. Just focus on your breathing.”
That should be an easy task for him. More than an easy task. If he really learned the lessons given to him by the Supreme Leader he would be able to maintain his breathing no matter what happened to him. If he had learned the lessons given to him he would not be this weak.
“General I don’t know what happened but he started panicking and I’m trying to calm him but-“
The General. His mother. His mother knows. She knows how weak her son is. Knows she gave birth to a pathetic omega who can’t even handle his heats yet believes he is deserving of claiming the galaxy. It is not a monster that she raised but a scared pathetic weak child.
“Ben they’re going to get something to break your heat but you still gotta’ breath for me. If you could do it while wearing that stupid mask you can do it now. Come on.”
His mask. He is undeserving of it. Undeserving of the mantle of Kylo Ren. He cannot go back to his old name. He is so weak he does not even deserve that one. He may hate that generation of his family but they did succeed at toppling an Empire. He cannot withstand a single heat without it consuming him and burning him from the inside out. He is undeserving of his family’s legacy. He is undeserving of his grandfather’s legacy.
“Poe how is he doing?”
“Honestly? About the same. I can’t get him out of his head and focusing on anything let alone his breathing.”
“That’s okay. That you for trying.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Let me have a go.”
He can see his mother. See her right there where she can see him and his weakness and shame. He can see the syringe in her hand. The one she is turning around and around her fingers. He wonders if that is what will break his heat. He wonders what new torture will replace it. He wonders how else he will fail the Supreme Leader.
“Ben this will break your heat but I need you to at least start breathing for me.”
Even with the incentive on the table he cannot regain control of his body. He is so weak he cannot even command his body when the chance of being relieved of the burning agony is right in front of him.
“Ben.”
His mother’s voice is so gentle as her hand reaches out to cup his face. Thumb coming to wipe away the tears and sweat that stain his cheeks. He must look a mess. She must be pitying him and his weakness.
“Just breathe for me.”
Her hand moves to grab his and place it on her chest. He can feel her chest move with each breath and slowly, gradually he is able to mimic it with his own.
“Good. There you go. Now this will probably hurt.”
The syringe is plunged into his thigh and the contents pushed into his body. It is an agony of a new kind. Frigid ice forcing its way through the molten lava of his blood. It is colder than anything he has ever endured before and the same heartbeat that pumped the fire through him is forcing it to move through his body. Is moving the agony from one spot to everywhere.
His heat is over though. He can feel it halting at an instantaneous stop. It is wrong. His body knows that. This is not the way it is meant to be. And there is no easy solution. No easy way to right itself so he suffers for it. Suffers as it tries to bring itself back to normal within seconds.
His heartbeat is deafening again and he wants to vomit up the last months’ worth of food as well as the bile and lining of his stomach. And the world is spinning and his mother is saying something but he cannot hear it. Cannot focus on anything but the agony.
Eventually the pain becomes too much and everything goes black.
Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - BONUS ALTERNATIVE VERSION
Dameron’s hands are on him. His hands and lips are mapping out paths on Ren’s skin. Exploring the new territory and claiming it as his own with every press of finger and touch of lip.
And Kylo cannot do this. He just cannot. He doesn’t care that not doing so will literally kill him. Does not care if it makes him weak or a coward. Doesn’t care if it means that he has failed the Supreme Leader’s teaching and that he will never obtain his true strength. He does not care because he cannot do this.
He does care. Of course he does. He cares so much and that is making this all so worse. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to be weak or a coward. He doesn’t want any of that but he also doesn’t want this. Also cannot stand the touches on his body. The feeling of Poe discovering the mountains of his hips bones or the ponds that is the places on his thighs where his river of slick has decided to gather.
He wants to push him off. Wants to scream at him to get off. Wants to fight and run and get away from this all and go back to when he was Kylo Ren, so hopped up on suppressants that many believed him an alpha.
He can’t though. Cannot seem to get his vocal chords within command. Cannot seem to get his body to respond to the demands that it move. He is trapped within the frozen muscles under his skin and his lungs burn from his failure to even drag oxygen in to fuel the fires that keep him alive.
He is frozen and Dameron’s touch feels like fire and there is nothing he can do to stop him. Not when his arms will not raise at his request. Not when the pheromones are suffocating them all and he is going to die before this is through. He just knows it. His body will burn either from Dameron’s touch or its own flames grown all consuming. And he can feel those flames growing. Feel them now his breathing is back. Too fast to actually allow oxygen into his lungs but fast enough to keep pouring more onto the fires of his heat and the pyre that will be his end.
“Ben?”
The flames must have consumed his hearing and sight because he cannot be sure if it is Dameron’s voice behind those words. Cannot be sure if it is even him still touching him or if he has been traded for the traitor. Or maybe traded for someone else. Why not? Get all the resistance members in and let them fuck the villainous Kylo Ren while he’s wet and ready for them. Make him beg for them all.
His skin feels ice cold though. The fire burning him only from within. He cannot feel the burning touch of another on his skin so maybe there is none. Or maybe the internal flames have reached such strength that even if someone was touching him it would not compare.
“Ben you need to breathe.”
Breathing only seems to fuel his heat. Only makes it burn stronger. Makes his suffering worse. Maybe if he stops breathing it will be over sooner. If he stops breathing the flames will not get the oxygen they require and will extinguish. He doesn’t care if they take him with them as long as this is over.
“Finn, go get the General. Come on Ben, at least look at me.”
How can he look at him if he cannot see? His world is plunged into darkness and the deafening beat of his heart as it pumps the molten heat through his body.
“Come on. Open your eyes. That’s all I’m asking.”
He had not shut them but his eyes are shut. He realises it when he opens them and can see Dameron’s concerned face. Dameron kneeling in front of the ball he has apparently also curled himself into without noticing. At the sight of the alpha his heat demands submission. Demands he try and look appealing and get back on the track he deviated from in his distress. He’s a coward, a weak foolish coward. He swears these words are in the Supreme Leader’s voice. This is just another failure on a very long list. The final piece of a puzzle of screw ups that reveal the image of his true nature. If he was stronger he could control his body. If he was stronger he could quash the heat and continue being Kylo Ren instead of a fertile omega in the hands of the resistance. If he was stronger he could grit his teeth and bear the mating no matter how unpleasant it was. Instead he is weak and cannot even endure when his enemies are spoiling him with kindness.
“No. Don’t do that. You gotta’ stop thinking. Just focus on your breathing.”
That should be an easy task for him. More than an easy task. If he really learned the lessons given to him by the Supreme Leader he would be able to maintain his breathing no matter what happened to him. If he had learned the lessons given to him he would not be this weak.
“General I don’t know what happened but he started panicking and I’m trying to calm him but-“
The General. His mother. His mother knows. She knows how weak her son is. Knows she gave birth to a pathetic omega who can’t even handle his heats yet believes he is deserving of claiming the galaxy. It is not a monster that she raised but a scared pathetic weak child.
“Ben they’re going to get something to break your heat but you still gotta’ breath for me. If you could do it while wearing that stupid mask you can do it now. Come on.”
His mask. He is undeserving of it. Undeserving of the mantle of Kylo Ren. He cannot go back to his old name. He is so weak he does not even deserve that one. He may hate that generation of his family but they did succeed at toppling an Empire. He cannot withstand a single heat without it consuming him and burning him from the inside out. He is undeserving of his family’s legacy. He is undeserving of his grandfather’s legacy.
“Poe how is he doing?”
“Honestly? About the same. I can’t get him out of his head and focusing on anything let alone his breathing.”
“That’s okay. That you for trying.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Let me have a go.”
He can see his mother. See her right there where she can see him and his weakness and shame. He can see the syringe in her hand. The one she is turning around and around her fingers. He wonders if that is what will break his heat. He wonders what new torture will replace it. He wonders how else he will fail the Supreme Leader.
“Ben this will break your heat but I need you to at least start breathing for me.”
Even with the incentive on the table he cannot regain control of his body. He is so weak he cannot even command his body when the chance of being relieved of the burning agony is right in front of him.
“Ben.”
His mother’s voice is so gentle as her hand reaches out to cup his face. Thumb coming to wipe away the tears and sweat that stain his cheeks. He must look a mess. She must be pitying him and his weakness.
“Just breathe for me.”
Her hand moves to grab his and place it on her chest. He can feel her chest move with each breath and slowly, gradually he is able to mimic it with his own.
“Good. There you go. Now this will probably hurt.”
The syringe is plunged into his thigh and the contents pushed into his body. It is an agony of a new kind. Frigid ice forcing its way through the molten lava of his blood. It is colder than anything he has ever endured before and the same heartbeat that pumped the fire through him is forcing it to move through his body. Is moving the agony from one spot to everywhere.
His heat is over though. He can feel it halting at an instantaneous stop. It is wrong. His body knows that. This is not the way it is meant to be. And there is no easy solution. No easy way to right itself so he suffers for it. Suffers as it tries to bring itself back to normal within seconds.
His heartbeat is deafening again and he wants to vomit up the last months’ worth of food as well as the bile and lining of his stomach. And the world is spinning and his mother is saying something but he cannot hear it. Cannot focus on anything but the agony.
Eventually the pain becomes too much and everything goes black.