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starwarskinkmeme2016-01-10 10:04 pm
swkm_mod) wrote in starwarskinkmeme2016-01-10 10:04 pm
Star Wars Kink Meme Round #1
Rules For Everyone:
- YKINMKATO (Your kink is not my kink, and that's okay.) No kinkshaming or wank/flames/y'know generally being a dick.
- All Star Wars films and related media are welcome. You can go as obscure as you want.
- RPF is allowed
All comments must be anon.Lbr, if it doesn't bother you guys it doesn't bother me.
- Use the subject for your prompt with the pair, general idea, any kinks, or specific requirements.
- You can post as many prompts as you like, as long as the prompts are different. They can be somewhat similar.
- You may second a post, but you may not piggyback and request different specifications from the original prompt. However, you may create a similar prompt inspired with your own specifications.
- Cross posting prompts is fine by me. If you've posted prompts at tfa-kink, and they've gotten lost in the mix, you can post them here!
- You are not allowed to create prompts for the purpose of mocking a previous prompt. I see you. Just don't.
- Warnings are courteous, but not necessary. Use DW Blocker if there is anything you don't want to see.
- Art and other media fills are welcome.
- Multiple fills are cool. Therefore, a prompt is considered filled, but still "open."
- You may post a link to your tumblr/ao3 account/ or any other website as long as it is accessible.
- You may link to a previously written fic in a comment, but it does not count as a fill.
- If you could post [FILL] in the subject of your fill, that would be awesome.
Sorry I forgot about this.
Discussion Post | Ask A Mod | Filled Prompts Master Post | Searchable Prompts @ Pinboard [Updated to page 16]| AO3 Collection
Spin-off Community: StarWarsFruitBowl
Announcement: I have long neglected my modly duties, because I have been both way busier than I thought I would be (the shock of young adulthood amirite?), and y'know just me being a mess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . If anyone is inclined to help me mod, or at least categorize prompts on pinboard, please message swkm-mod @ tumblr. If you don't have a tumblr, still message me but on anon, and we will find another way to communicate. Also, I have received a request for a prompt freeze. I'm thinking that might be a good idea, but I would like to get your opinion. Let me know what you think here.
Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 5/5 WITH FIXED FORMATING
(Anonymous) 2016-07-03 12:08 pm (UTC)(link)The rest of his heat is spent out like that. The painful suffocating drag of the need cutting him off from his own mind and forcing him to degrade himself in submission to get relief. Divided by moments of clarity, where he feels like Kylo Ren and not just some omega but is also all too aware that he will be dragged under again. A whole week of not being able to access the Force in the way he should, of being denied one of his birthrights in deliverance to another.
He hates how much he relies on the alphas to obtain the fleeting moments of clarity. Feels like a drug addict - one that craves clear thought. He supposes he probably is. The suppressants are a drug and this is just his body in withdrawal. Like so many addicts before him he has just replaced the drug with something that gives him the same feeling. Gives him the same result (even if it doesn’t last as long).
The withdrawal passes though and his body is his body again and his mind is his mind. And he can feel the Force bubbling up under his skin, ready to answer to his demands.
Clarity comes with realisations and the sickening. The desperate all-consuming need that filled his gut for the heat has retreated to just being a sickening feeling.
He can now see his actions with a clear head. The ones where at the time he gave into his heat-mind’s suggestions. The ones where he spread his legs and moaned and begged for more. The ones that had been justified as just biology or where his mind was so far gone that he can’t even remember them past the pleasure that surrounded them. Now he can see them as they really were. Can see how they, how he, must have looked to the alphas. Kylo Ren, the Leader of the Knights of Ren, entrusted with the teachings of the Supreme Leader, their enemy, moaning and submitting to them like a cheap whore. One of the greatest threats to the resistance spewing words that wouldn’t even make it into a cheap porn-holo because of how cliché and ridiculous they sound.
There is no saving his image in their mind. No reclaiming dominance over them. Even if he does manage to escape they will always know what he looked like desperate from need to be fucked, to be filled with their knots and seed. The whole resistance probably does, probably watched it happen on security monitors (no, his parents wouldn’t allow that). He will never be able to face them again without remembering.
They are both still there. Passed out in the room where total exhaustion once again forced them to rest. Their faces are tight though, it is not peaceful rest, not with the pheromones that are still filling the air (his heat may have broken now but they had been in the room for a whole week filling the rooms air with their shared hormones). He can see the evidence of his excitement left on their bodies. Can see the teeth and nail marks. The hickeys on their necks and long red lines on their shoulders and down their backs. He can see the evidence of his desperate craving submission on them and it just makes the sickness that rises in his stomach so much worse.
He barely makes it to the bathroom before his stomach officially revolts and spills its contents (mostly bile that burns its way up through his throat) into the toilet. He collapses next to it, unable to find the strength in his legs to keep holding him up. The heat has taken its toll on him, has drained his body of energy and turned his muscles useless.
They alphas won’t want him now. Their relationships will return to what they were before the week of hormone induced attraction. That is a good thing, he tells himself. It is good that they will think of him as merely a pleasurable fuck. Good that they do not demand any obligation from him that he cannot fulfil. He has to return to the First Order and they will stay with the resistance. They will be enemies again and they will brag to everyone how they got to fuck the great Kylo Ren.
He cannot seem to convince his stomach to stop trying to bring something up. There is nothing there for it to bring up but the acidic bile that lines it. Nothing and yet it keeps trying as if to spite his attempts to use his newly regained control over his body.
He can feel their seed leaking out of him. He hopes he has broken his body enough that it will not take.
He wants to clean his mouth out. Needs to clean his mouth out. Needs to make some part of his body not feel dirty, not feel used. He cannot get himself up and off the ground to make it to the sink. Cannot make his muscles work well enough to pull him up. Cannot seem to stop retching for long enough to actually move at all.
He can feel stirrings in the Force that tell him the two alphas have woken and he waits for the sound of the door opening and closing. Waits to be left alone to recreate himself back into Kylo Ren the Leader of the Knights of Ren. To be left alone until the Resistance has some use for him (and hopefully he will be able to clean himself up before then).
The sound doesn’t come. Instead they come into the bathroom.
They have come to mock him. There is no other reason for them to come into this room with him. They have come to memorise the sight of him, covered in their cum and so exhausted the he cannot even stand. Memorise it in order to tell the rest of the resistance exactly how pathetic Kylo Ren really is. He hopes they are at least quick. That they will merely stand there and take in the sight of his weakness, maybe get a shared laugh or two before leaving the room and him to his solitude.
He cannot handle it if they taunt him. He does not have the physical strength to attack them nor the mental to just endure. His body and mind have been exhausted and he is sure if he has to put up with taunts for more than minute he will cry. Which he cannot allow himself to do, but cannot seem to gather the strength to do anything to stop them should they try.
He can hear the traitor gasp when they enter the room and that is almost worse than taunts.
“Come on,” Dameron says and Kylo hopes that means they are leaving. That the sight of him is so displeasing that they do not want to witness it anymore.
They don’t leave.
He flinches at the hand that reaches out to touch him and it does back off if only for a moment.
“Ben, it’s just me,” Dameron says and there is a gentle touch on his shoulder before he feels his hair being pulled back and away from him face.
He shudders when a cold hand-towel is placed against his shoulders but it does make him feel more comfortable.
It takes a few minutes but the sickness in his stomach does go away and Ren stops retching up acidic bile. The alphas don’t leave the entire time. No, they gently rub his back and make sure that the towel on his shoulder stays cool (Dameron mostly responsible for the back rubs, the traitor for the towels). Their presence is a comfort which just makes it all worse. Reminds him of how pathetic he must look. He cannot handle their pity nor the weakness within him that causes it. He cannot stop them though. Cannot control what they think nor how he looks in that moment. He cannot hide his body: tired, sticky and sore.
“You feeling better now?” the traitor asks after five minutes of Ren not actively trying to bring up his stomach contents. “I mean, you’re not going to vomit again are you? I mean you can if you want but I feel like I really need a shower and if I feel like I need a shower I image you really must want one.”
Kylo does. He really does but he also isn’t so sure that he will be able to even stand. Getting to the shower and actually washing himself in any sort of satisfactory way seems an actually impossible task.
“We’ll help you,” Dameron says when Ren glares at the both of them, “but only if you want us to. If you want us to just leave we’ll do that as well.”
He does want them to just leave. Leave him to clean himself up and try and rebuild Kylo Ren from the crumbling remains. Wants to see what is left and try and start the process of reclaiming his power. He also knows that if they do leave he will probably be stuck where he is until he can regain the strength to at least make it to the shower. Even then he’d likely just sit under the spray hoping that it alone would clean him. Hoping that the week would just magically fall off and he would be Kylo Ren once more.
It wouldn’t be the most shameful thing they had seen him do. Not after everything he had done in his heat-fuelled desperation. What was one more story for them to gossip about if it meant him actually clean?
He hates how careful they are with him. Hates how their hands gently hold him, consciously avoiding the bruises on him. He is not sure if he’d prefer them to be clinical or cruel but knows he wants anything but how they are. They are his enemies and he is theirs. He should not be finding comfort in their touch no matter the surrounding circumstances.
The water that runs over his skin is blissfully warm. It satisfies all the cravings he had, after he woke from the heat, of being capable of washing the filth from his body. He forgets that the two alphas are with him for a handful of moments as he enjoys the feeling of knowing that he can wash, at least the evidence of, the previous week from his body.
It takes a fair amount of effort and energy for him to be able to stand and even then he has to support most of his weight by leaning against the wall of the shower. He has no ability to wash himself even if he did give up and rest on the floor. He has little choice but to rely on the alphas to wash the filth and sex from him. Dameron mostly takes charge of this task, the traitor apparently slightly apprehensive to touch past what is absolutely necessary. Ren cares little about that, care only about the fact that Dameron’s hands are thankfully clinical in his actions of bathing him.
He feels better after his body is clean. Feels more like Kylo Ren and less like an omega whore now that there is no longer seed actively leaking out of him onto thighs crusted with dry slick. It doesn’t change the fact that he still feels so weak and powerless. Something that he was supposed to never feel again after he took up the mantle of Kylo Ren, but he feels better.
He isn’t happy about what happened. Hates the desperation and pathetic weak behaviour it dragged out of him. Hates the fact he will likely never be able to fully return to portending that Kylo Ren is not an omega. He hates everything about the past week and events that lead up to it.
He cannot hate the alphas. He wants to, he really does. Wants to hate and make them pay for what his body did in response to them. Wants to blame it all on them. Kylo Ren is still Kylo Ren even though they forced the submission out of him. He knows it was his body that condemned them all. His body’s betrayal that condemned them all. In the circumstances they were nicer then he could have ever expected, nicer then he probably deserved (even just counting what he did to them personally). That doesn’t make it right but even he, in his deepest moments of denial, cannot place the blame on them completely.
Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 5/5 WITH FIXED FORMATING
(Anonymous) 2016-07-07 02:09 pm (UTC)(link)Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 5/5 WITH FIXED FORMATING
(Anonymous) 2016-07-10 07:21 am (UTC)(link)I'm glad you like my Ren, he's probably the character I'm happiest with my writing of. Everyone else I feel I get slightly wrong but with Ren I can normally get him somewhere in the realm of what I consider is loyal to his character.
Again, thank you so much for your wonderful compliments. It was a great prompt and I enjoyed writing it (trapfalls aside). I'm glad you enjoyed it so much.
Also - don't forget there's the bonus 'alternative way it would have gone' and epilogue that are still coming... soonish (if you follow my tumblr you'll have seen I've probably made a very bad decision when it comes to amount of fics I'll need to write over the coming months)
Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 5/5 WITH FIXED FORMATING
(Anonymous) 2016-08-14 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - BONUS ALTERNATIVE VERSION
(Anonymous) 2016-08-21 11:54 am (UTC)(link)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.