
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7471530.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      Gen, M/M, Other
  Fandom:
      Star_Wars_Episode_VII:_The_Force_Awakens_(2015)
  Relationship:
      Hux/Kylo_Ren, Hux/Ben_Solo_|_Kylo_Ren, Leia_Organa_&_Ben_Solo_&_Han_Solo,
      Phasma_&_Ben_Solo, Kylo_Ren_&_Rey, Knights_of_Ren_&_Kylo_Ren
  Character:
      Hux_(Star_Wars), Ben_Solo, Ben_Solo_|_Kylo_Ren, Kylo_Ren
  Additional Tags:
      33_Day_Guro_Challenge, Guro, Amputation, Force_Alchemy_Gone_Wrong, Jedi
      Ben_Solo, Ben_Gets_The_Skywalker_Special™, Sad_Leia, Snoke_Being_a_Dick,
      Decapitation, Puella_Magi_Madoka_Magica_AU, Witch!Kylo, Badass_Rey,
      Cannibalism, Dead_Dove:_Do_Not_Eat, Blood, Blood_Drinking, Literal
      Bloodbath, Blood_and_Gore, myspace_au, Another_M._Night_Shyamalan_Plot
      Twist™, Genital_Piercing, Body_Modification, Xenophilia, Get_Off_Hux's
      Brand_New_Dick, Masks, Helmets, helmet_kink, #keepthehelmeton2k16, Mind
      Sex, Masturbation, Zombies, Liches, Emperor_Hux, Conjoined_Bodies, Forced
      Fusion, Body_Horror, Literal_Kylux
  Series:
      Part 1 of I'm_The_Devil:_33_Days_of_Kylux_Guro_Fills
  Collections:
      Kylux_33_Days_of_Guro
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-13 Completed: 2016-07-24 Chapters: 7/7 Words: 7787
****** I'm The Devil ******
by KyloReam
Summary
     Prompt fills for saltandlimes' Kylux_33_Days_of_Guro.
     Each chapter is a one-shot and can be read independently of the
     others. Tags do not necessarily reflect the content of each chapter;
     please see specific chapters for appropriate content warnings!
      
     Latest chapter: conjoined bodies
Notes
     Woohoo I'm doing the Kylux_33_Days_of_Guro challenge! Truth be told,
     I’m not much of a visceral horror writer, but I think it’s a great
     opportunity to test my boundaries and start to springboard some fics
     and AUs that have been bouncing around in my head! Also, all the fics
     will have an accompanying song by Clams Casino bc why not.
     For today’s prompt (amputation), I decided to write something for an
     AU I’m currently developing. @somepsychocandytalking, my AU dealer,
     passed me an idea about Kylo Ren as a golem…which doesn’t happen
     here, but you might have an idea of where I’m going with that plot
     element after reading the fill.
     Chapter-specific Content Warnings: major character death, amputation,
     blood.
     Fic title/inspiration: "Drowning" by Clams Casino.
***** Drowning (Amputation) *****
Ben opens his eyes. He’s lying down at the base’s medbay in one of the
uncomfortable cots. His mother is hovering above him, her forehead creased with
worry. He thinks about how small she is, how ashy her face looks. “Ben…” she
says softly, and he watches as tears fall silently from her eyes onto his
chest.
“M-mommy?” The words crack out of his lips. He’s so exhausted and in so much
pain. The entire right side of Ben’s body feels like it’s on fire, and he tries
to raise his hand.
It’s not there. Neither is his arm. He jerks his head to the side and sees
bandages stained with dark blood covering his shoulder, evidence of his recent
loss.
His mother weeps.
Ben swivels his head to the left, where his uncle and cousin sit. Rey’s face is
stony, her hands braced against the arms of the chair. Luke’s eyes are
bloodshot, and he dabs at his face with the back of his left hand, the one he
didn’t lose to Darth Vader.
“How long…how long have I been asleep, mom?” She’s by his side, the side with
the missing arm. She presses her lips to his forehead and kisses him.
“Nearly half a day cycle,” says his mother. She sniffles. “Oh Ben, you
beautiful, beautiful fool.” His face is wet with her tears.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” says Luke. “You’re lucky your mother and I felt you
call out to us before you passed out.”
Ben closes his eyes. He can feel the remorse welling within him. He was such an
idiot. He could’ve gotten himself killed, could have lost his soul, could have
abandoned his mother and cousin.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and there are tears in hiseyes, too. “I just wanted
to…bring him back. To prove Snoke wrong.”
His mother wipes her eyes. “Ben, I know. I miss your father, too. But his death
was not your fault. Nothing you or I or Luke did could’ve stopped Snoke from
killing him.”
Ben remembers Han’s death, remembers watching him crumple under the Force
lightning Snoke threw at him. He remembers feeling powerless as he was held in
place, his vision clouded over as Snoke unleashed horrific mental torture. He
remembers his mother’s screams of anguish as she charged at Snoke, prepared to
cut him down with Ben’s lightsaber, how she only managed to sink the blade into
his gut. They’d been lucky to escape, luckier still to be alive now without
Snoke worming his way into Ben’s mind. He’d at least severed that connection.
His mother doesn’t know that Ben replays Han’s death constantly, that he’d
spent the last year after his death researching the mechanics of Force
resurrection. Luke doesn’t know that he studied arcane records—some even
belonging to Dark Force users through the ages—on the elements and tools needed
for a resurrection, and gathered those minerals and elements under the pretense
of smuggling goods to the Resistance. 
He suspects they know the blood he’d used to create the sigil came from a human
(a Stormtrooper, and Ben had killed him in self defense, believing his success
in bringing Han back outweighed any guilt in killing another). He suspects they
know that he was successful in opening up the portal to the Force. 
Luke had told Ben that being in direct contact with the Force was different
from simply channeling it. He hadn’t explained that the Force didn’t so much
contact him as consume him. Ben remembers slipping into an endless void, losing
all of his senses, all concept of his body. All around him was total darkness,
and yet the darkness had a soul.
Who has d͜ár̡ed to contact the Fo҉r̕çe҉?Ben felt the voice more than heard it,
and unlike his decades of mental assault from Snoke was unafraid by the Force’s
vocalizations, arcane as it was.
Ben. Ben Organa Solo.
What is y̧ǫur des̀͟i̧̛͡ŗ̕͞ę͟?
I wish to resurrect Han Solo, thought Ben wildly. He remembers sudden awareness
of a presencein the Force, of a form walking toward his currently formless
body, something dark outlined in the already dark void. Bizarrely, he felt the
air change around him, as though the Force was breathing.
What is your payme͞nt for s̴ee̕͡k̛͡i҉͘ng̀͢ thiş
̕kn̢o͞wl͏l͏̭̯̜̭̱̠̘͜e͏̷̫̮͢ͅḓ̷͍͕̩̪̦͖̤g̥̯̹̱̫ę͉̱̩̳̩̘̯͇̘?
 
The elements, minerals, and liquid necessary for Force resurrection. 
The breath stilled around him. Then he heard the Force chuckle.
 
Your̸ to̸̵̗l̢̛͎̦̝̳̖̼̟͚l̶̟ is͜ ́i̧nsu̢ff͠įc҉i͏e͝n̷t. Y͡ou̷ ͠wi̷l̨l͝
͜pa͡y mo͙̠̜ͧͪ̉r̘̘̹̄e̼̳͚̪͓̫̥̒̿͊̅̓  ̕͝t͏o͜͜͡ p̷̢͜as͉̜̭̦͔s̮̜͔͔̯̳
̻̯̯͈̦b̫̰̘̥̠a̮̮̰͔͉ͅc͔̥͎k i͇͈͖͖n̸̢̟͖̯͔ṯ̻̻̯͓̞́o͖̪͉͉̭̹̼͉
̛̙͇̭͉̤̀t̶̶̪̖̭̞͖h̶̲̞͈̜̜̰͉͠e͏̛̼̭̣̀ m̦̼̳̳̫̈́ö̱͇́̉̔r̞̼͔̤͎̼͍͚͈͡t̹̱̱̾͋ͦ͐̆aͯ͛͐̔͋̑ͣ͡҉̬̖̤͕̙̭̦̰l̵͇̼͇̮͉̥̗ͨ̀́
̳̰͌ͮ̾͞w̻̳̯͖͆͗͜͟o̱̔̅͒ͥ̌̋r̨͚͎̭͎̐̈ͅr̞̼͔̤͎̼͍͚͈l̴̮̎͋ͨ̀d̪̰̭̤̳̄̀͠.
 
No, wait, what—Ben started to think, before his mind was assaulted with an
array of Force knowledge, more than he’d known was possible. Countless methods
for obtaining, controlling, and releasing the Force from every school of
thought he knew, from sects he never knew existed, Dark and Light and
tangential shades which were unencumbered by that dichotomy, all flew across
his mind. Ben felt himself being thrown back, the void spiraling away from him,
and as he fell, felt the prickle of fire shooting from the tips of his right
finger up his arm, as though it was being burned off, eaten offby thousands of
razor-sharp teeth, he yanked his arm back—
—and came to in the middle of the bloody resurrection sigil, blood spurting
from the stump on his shoulder where his arm used to be.
Ben remembers screaming, remembers inhumane pain and anguish. He remembers
reaching out to his mother, to Luke, to Rey, to anyonewith the Force, hoping
they’d find him. He remembers trying to breathe, trying to keep moving, trying
to do something to stopper the bleeding. 
“I’m so, so sorry, Mom,” Ben says between sobs. “I’m sorry.” He’s remembering
Darth Vader—no, Anakin Skywalker—how he worked so hard to keep his beloved
Padme from dying, and wonders again whether his father’s words about him
holding too much Vader in him were said in jest or in truth.
He sits up in bed and his mother lets him lean onto her chest. It’s
incongruous, her tiny body next to his, and yet he can’t help but think of how
strong she is. “I forgive you, Ben. I love you, Ben.” She repeats the words,
rubs his back, and lets him sob. 
***** Born To Die (Decapitation) *****
Chapter Summary
     Damn kyloream, back at it again with the bizarre AUs…
     So sometime this past spring I saw a post about Force entropy. That
     reminded me of another series that touches on the continuity between
     good and evil and magic as a way of staving off the universe’s
     entropy…yes, I’m talking about Puella Magi Madoka Magica. There are a
     lot of similarities between Anakin and Sayaka’s storylines, or
     between Obi Wan and Mami’s (including they both die at the hands of a
     ‘witch’).
     There are also witches who visually remind me of Star Wars e.g. have
     you_seen_Elsa_Maria?? She’s like the First Order personified as a
     witch.
     Even if you don’t know anything about Madoka Magica, you should still
     be able to enjoy this ficlet! Kylux is more implied than shown. Rey
     goes ham. Lots of things lose their heads.
Chapter Notes
     Chapter specific content warnings: decapitation, blood, stylized
     gore, major character death.
     Fic title/inspiration: "Born_To_Die" by Clams Casino.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Rey knows she’s entered Kylo Ren’s labyrinth when she sees the snowflakes.
They’re larger than the flakes she remembers from Starkiller Base, and when one
falls onto her it refuses to melt, has the shape of a multi-pointed star and
the texture of sand. The sand-like dunes where she walks appear to be growing
taller, more like craggy mountains with razor-sharp peaks lined with jagged
black trees. At the horizon, the sky is the white of a cloudy day, and as  she
looks up, she watches it darken to black, pinpointed by endless sharp falling
stars.
She knows Kylo Ren is near when she sees fiery red light flare at the edge of a
cliff in the distance, its beam shooting into the impossibly black sky. It’s an
acknowledgement that Rey has come to kill him, and a dare for her to succeed.
Years of traveling through the deserts of Jakku, accompanied by her recent Jedi
training, allow Rey to travel quickly to Kylo Ren. She’s surprised she doesn’t
encounter any familiars, though the mountains loom taller and the star flakes
fall heavier as she approaches him. The air is thick too with feelings of self-
doubt—you are weak, you are useless, you are foolish, you can’t save, you can’t
be saved—muttered in Kylo Ren’s monstrous mechanized voice. Rey ignores the
voices; it’s his glamour, a trap to lure her into sympathy that she won’t give
into again. She tells herself what she’s doing is right, that it’s the duty of
a Jedi to cut down the fallen.
The path up to the cliff’s edge is steep. Kylo Ren has his back to her, his
cowl raised above his head. His muttering is stronger here, the beam of red
light with two crossbeams flaring larger than life. She’s practically standing
behind him now, and she can see that he isn’t even holding the blade. He’s
hunched over on the ground, something else cradled in his arms.
He stands up and turns around slowly, allowing her to look at him. Kylo Ren’s
face is just as terrible as she remembered, the cold space where eyes once were
rimmed in glowing silver. In his arms, he holds the head of Hux, the hated
general of the First Order. His eyes are glazed and blood appears to drip
endlessly from the jagged tear of his neck. Kylo Ren runs a hand through Hux’s
hair tenderly as he continues to meet Rey’s gaze.
“You still want to kill me.” It’s a statement, though the lilt at the end of it
makes Rey wonder if he meant to ask it as a question. She stares back at him.
“That’s what happens when you’re hunted by a witch,” she snarls. Rey draws her
lightsaber, a two-bladed staff, igniting it but holding it at waist level.
The voices around them have suddenly gone silent. Rey frowns, looks at Kylo
Ren, who continues to stand with his hands clasped around Hux’s head. Then his
cloak ripples.
The edges of the cloak elongate, stretching out behind and in front of Kylo
Ren, dark shapes streaming from his body like smoke from an extinguished flame.
The forms twist together, growing teeth and eyes and claws, taking the shape of
a pack of vornskr. With a howl, the heads launch themselves toward Rey.
She leaps into the air, quickly decapitating as many heads as she can, dodging
between the dark hounds with their snapping jaws. The heads fly away from her,
spiraling into the starry void of the sky above. Kylo Ren’s unspoken voice is
in her head.
Where do you think witches come from, Rey?
Jedi who strayed too far from the Light,she thinks back, and grits her teeth as
she swings her blade in a lemniscate, vornskr heads dripping dark blood across
her arms, across her chest, across her legs. It’s sticky and viscous and feels
more like slime.
You’re wrong.
The heads have now sprouted spikes, have grown arms clawed with long talons
that are razor sharp. One cuts across Ren’s face in a parody of a scar she once
dealt to Kylo Ren. She screams in anguish and drives her lightsaber
horizontally through one vornskr head, watching with grim satisfaction as it
splits in half, more tar-like blood spurting from its neck.
All Force users succumb to the Dark Side. The word “Jedi” means “mystic,” does
it not? What are witches but mystics who have come into their own? Search
yourself. You know it to be true.
Rey screams, tunneling through the mass of vornskr heads until she reaches Kylo
Ren, still holding out Hux’s head like an offering of peace. The mass swirls
around them like the sand spirals of Jakku. As Kylo Ren’s cowl slides from his
head, Rey knows what she needs to do.
With a flick of her wrist, she severs his head from his body.
There is a moment where Kylo Ren stands still, dark red blood staining his
torso, before his body tilts backward into the flare of the red beam behind
him. The vornskr heads cover him, cover Hux, as the beam incinerates them,
pitching them over the cliff and into the blackness below, leaving nothing but
the smell of ash and ozone.
Rey stands at the cliff’s edge and wipes the blood from her face, watching as
Kylo Ren’s labyrinth lifted like mist. Not for the first time, she wonders if
being Force sensitive is a gift or a curse.
Chapter End Notes
     Tune in tomorrow for cannibalism (sidebar: drinking blood is
     cannibalism, right?)
     Also, hmu on Tumblr @ kyloream.
***** Brainwash By London (Cannibalism) *****
Chapter Summary
     Okay guys so I know I wasn't gory for my first two chapters......but
     that changes now.
     The Kylux AU of the day is *spins wheel* Myspace AU? This is actually
     a rework of the first fic I ever started for porcelain_cats' Myspace
     AU! Besides this scene, this fic was about Kylo and Hux having a
     sleepover and being gross mid-2000s teenagers, making out, piercing
     nipples, eating pizza, normal teen things ya know?
     There’s nothing cute here. (Or is there? *X-Files theme plays*)
     Chapter-specific content warnings: underage characters, graphic
     depictions of violence, stitches, wounds, cannibalism, blood,
     bloodbath (whoops that’s a prompt for a later day isn’t it), blood
     drinking, so much blood, possessive behavior, dead doves getting
     eaten, another M. Night Shyamalan Plot Twist™
     Fic title/inspiration: “Brainwash_By_London” by Clams Casino.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The first thing Hux is aware of upon waking is that he's wearing his glasses.
The second is that there’s blood spattered across them.
His bleary eyes snap open. One look at the painted walls, the karate tournament
trophies, and the Darth Vader poster is enough to confirm he’s in Kylo’s
bedroom. The sun is just breaking through the blinds. He remembers that he’s
sleeping over at the Solo house for the weekend. How on earth did he end up in
Kylo’s bed? Where’s Kylo?
Hux takes off the glasses and clumsily goes to wipe them on the top sheet
before it occurs to him there’s no reason at allfor there to be blood on his
glasses. The dream he’d had, where he cut Kylo open…that had been a dream,
right? His heartbeat thrums in his ears as he pushes himself up in bed. “Kylo?”
he calls. No answer.
There’s moistness underneath Hux’s hand, and when he pulls his palm away he
sees the unmistakeable darkness of fresh blood. It hasn’t been there long,
maybe an hour or so. He pulls the sheets back—he's still wearing his jeans and
turtleneck from last night, thank goodness—and swings his legs over the edge of
the bed. There are spots of blood across the room’s grimy white carpeting
leading out beyond the bedroom door.
“Kylo?” says Hux, louder this time.
No response. There’s blood soaking through the sheets, and Hux pushes them
away, horrified. He supposes this is the moment when he should probably feel
afraid.
Hux takes a deep breath and gets out of bed, placing his feet on the carpeted
floor, and lightly walks out the door, following the blood spots. They wind
down the hall and lead him to the bathroom. The yellow glow of incandescent
lights is just visible underneath the door.
Hux doesn’t even think to knock, would rather catch Kylo shitting himself on
the toilet than—
—than see the literal bloodbath that greets him when he opens the door. Kylo is
lying in the Solo’s ugly mauve bathtub, bare-chested but still wearing his
rainbow leopard pants from last night, except now they’re soaked through with
blood. The source of the blood is a long incision that traces between the cleft
in his abdomen and ends just above his navel, the wound fresh, barely stitched
together with dark sutures. The skin around the wound is red and swollen.
Kylo’s eyes are red and swollen, too, his face a mess of smeared eyeliner and
mascara, nose filled with snot.
Hux feels like he’s going to retch.
“Kylo?” he asks again. Against his better judgement (everything about the
situation seems against Hux’s better judgement), he gets into the tub. There’s
a thin layer of blood coating it, and despite thinking he was conditioned to it
from years of hunting and dissection, the reality that he’s sitting in a tub
with Kylo’s blood makes Hux shiver. It’s something he’s fantasized about, yes,
but now that he’s confronted by his desires he realizes the blood stinks, is
congealing. He feels something hairy against his foot and sees a red and black
striped extension peeking through the blood. “Kylo, what happened?”
Kylo meets his gaze, his sleepy brown eyes slightly unfocused, and his
expression is completely unreadable. Hux isn’t sure whether he’s looking at him
with disgust, with admiration, with fear, with lust, with some combination of
all the above. He raises a hand, grasping at Hux’s and pulling his hand toward
his bloody chest. There’s a thin layer of blood around the bottom of the tub.
Suddenly Kylo smiles, no, beams at Hux.
“You did this to me,” he says, eyes meeting Hux's. “Don’t you remember?”
And Hux doesn’t.He was so sure the images that he’d dreamed—Kylo writhing in
blood on his sheets, the glossiness of his intestines, the way he could feel
the blood pulsing around his hands—were just that, dreams. Seeing his fantasies
brought to life is utterly frightening, like the first time Kylo kissed him,
like the first time he ate live worms. He feels as though he’s being pushed
toward the edge of something.
“Don’t you remember?” repeats Kylo. He motions for Hux to come closer. “You
told me you wanted to get inside me.” He blushes. “Your hands felt so good. I’d
let you bleed me dry if you wanted to.” His lips ghost over Hux’s cheek, a
shaky sigh escaping from them, and then he reaches over to the side of the tub
and pulls out a scalpel, one Hux recognizes as coming from the biology lab.
Kylo's hand reaches out, steadying the scalpel in Hux’s hand against the
sutured skin. He knits his eyebrows together, eyes blinking rapidly, and for a
moment Hux is certainKylo is going to burst into tears. A shy smile creeps
across his face. “Wanna help me?”
This is the moment when Hux should get out of the tub, should grab Kylo’s Nokia
and call his parents, call 911, anythingto make sure Kylo doesn’t bleed to
death in the bathroom. His pulse is thrumming, his ears are ringing, Kylo’s
gaze is piercing, how is he sitting in so much blood?
“Yes,” Hux hears himself say, “I’ll do anything."
Then Kylo, still smiling, flips Hux’s wrist around, sending the scalpel through
his sweater and into his solar plexus
Hux’s breath catches his his throat, and he looks at Kylo with wide eyes. His
other arm is pinioned above his head, and Kylo presses one of his thighs to
Hux’s own, preventing him from moving away from the wall.
“You think you’re so clever, Hux,” he murmurs gently. “Taking pictures of
roadkill, boasting to everyone about how you’re going to vivisectme.” The blade
slides down Hux’s abdomen, forming a neat red line as Kylo cuts deep into his
skin. “What was your end game, anyway? Were you going to sell my organs to the
highest bidder? Make a pocket square out of my skin? Find a boy who’s prettier
than me and carve him up?”
“Kylo, stop—”  
“No, youfucking stop.” There’s no sweetness in Kylo’s voice any more. “You
don’t know what I’m capable of.” Hux is frozen in place, powerless. He stares
at Kylo wide-eyed, unwilling to watch as he picks up the blade and drags it
back downthrough his stomach. Hux makes the mistake of looking down and seeing
his turtleneck ripped, of seeing the thin layer of fat around his pale abdomen,
now slick with blood.
“Hey, we match now,” says Kylo, running a tongue over his braces. “Kinda like
that bracelet I made for you that you never wear.” His hands press into the
incision he’s made, and Hux is fairly certain he’s touching his intestines.
He’s never felt arousal, doesn’t really feel romantic interest, so what is this
jittery feeling? Fear? Anxiety? It feels like something beyond anxiety. He
tries to say something to Kylo, but all he can make out is a whimper.
Kylo’s head dips down into the wound, and Hux can feel him putting his lips to
it, putting his nose into it. He feels like he’s going to pass out. When Kylo
lifts his head, he’s covered in blood from the nose down, and Hux is certain he
sees bits of muscle on his teeth.
“You taste so good, Hux,” he whispers. “Don’t you want to taste yourself?” And
Hux is still frozen as Kylo presses his lips against his, as hot blood floods
his mouth. He feels like he’s going to retch.
His eyes snap open as he comes to on the couch in the Solo family living room,
a lumpy quilt thrown over him. The sunlight’s pouring in through the windows
and doors in the foyer, making the room glow. He looks above the TV at the
family pictures, of Mr. and Mrs. Solo after they got married, Kylo in his
karate uniform cuddling a French bulldog, a family portrait where Kylo is all
ears. He exhales deeply.
Hux’s hands fly to his stomach. He’s still wearing his turtleneck, it’s still
whole. Kylo’s bracelet is tied around his wrist. It’s okay, he tells himself.
It was a dream. It doesn’t mean anything.
Distantly, he can hear Kylo walking around the kitchen, can hear the tinkle of
cereal in a bowl and the putter of a coffee machine. He’s humming something by
The Medic Droid. It’s okay. He’s okay. Kylo’s okay.
Chapter End Notes
     Lel I feel like “it was all a dream” is the second biggest M. Night
     Shyamalan plot twist I’ve written and is kind of a cop-out, but come
     on! They’re kids! Kids who have questionable tastes in music and
     fashion and human bodies, but still, kids.
     Hoo boy next I get to write piercings...and masks...in one day? Two
     days?
***** All I Need (Piercings/Body Mods) *****
Chapter Summary
     I am not exaggerating when I say that half of this was inspired by
     Hux xenokink headcanons and the other half was inspired by the Kanye
     West lyric “get_off_my_brand_new_dick."
     Chapter-specific content warnings: extreme (cosmetic and very
     obviously consensual) body modification involving implants? IDK this
     is fairly tame and not at all gory unless certain types of body mods
     squick you out.
     Fic Title/Inspiration: "All_I_Need" by Clams Casino.
In the moment, Hux wishes he’d positioned a holorecorder on Ren’s face so he
could capture the exact moment when he removed his underclothes.
Right now, Ren’s eyes are nearly bulging, his brows furrowed in confusion (in
arousal?), his already wide mouth distorted into a close-mouthed grimace. It’s
the most grotesque Hux has ever seen him look, and also the most
unintentionally hilarious. 
(Later, when remembering this moment, Hux will reflect that Ren was at his most
hilarious when he got drunk and, while still wearing all his clothes and
helmet, swung Millicent around in his arms while singing and baby-talking.)
“Your dick,” he says at long last.
“Yes,” says Hux, somewhat carelessly, “my dick.”
“…there are bumpsin it.”
To say there are bumps in Hux’s dick is an understatement. There are four rows
of silicone implants along his shaft, each implant about the size of a small
bead. In fact, there’s a lot about Hux’s dick that makes it look as though it
came from someone entirely non-humanoid. It’s been tattooed a brilliant violet
at the head, which is pointed like an arrow, with a faint scale pattern, and
fades to periwinkle along the length of his shaft before transitioning to Hux’s
natural skin tone. The bumps have been shaded, tattooed shadows making them
appear more raised than they actually are.
Hux’s scrotum is similarly altered. It’s also been tattooed in the same colors
and patterns, and appears to be unnaturally swollen. Smirking, Hux puts his
dick in his hand, letting Kylo get a peek at the row of three piercings at the
base of his scrotum.
Kylo is still speechless.
Oh, Hux is enjoying this far too much.
“There are bumps on my dick? I hadn’t noticed.”
Kylo wrinkles his nose. “When…why?”
“About two months ago, while you were on an extended mission. Because I wanted
it.”
It’s true. Hux so rarely indulges in his wants and desires, including the more
sensational ones. He’s long enjoyed having sex with different species, but it
wasn’t until recently that he realized he could modify his dick to resemble
something non-human. It had been a pain waiting for it to heal, not being able
to stroke himself. The facility fortunately had bacta tanks—not his preferred
method of healing, though they significantly shortened the amount of time
healing between implants, surgery, and tattooing. 
He strokes himself idly, relishing the sensation of his fingers bumping over
the implants. He’s been dying for Ren to come back from his mission so he could
see his dick sliding in and out of his mouth, feel Ren’s tightness around him
as he fucked into him, imagine Ren was being taken by some inhuman monster.
Maybe at a later date he’d convince him to have sex fully covered with only his
penis exposed, as Ren had first presented himself. 
“Okay.” Ren says. He meets Hux’s eyes, seeming less embarrassed. “I can get
used to this.” He lopes over to Hux, smiling slyly. “Could be fun to have a
monster in me,” he says, his fingers joining Hux’s on his dick.
Hux grins back.
***** Leaf (Mask/Covered Eyes) *****
Chapter Summary
     So I know I talk a lot about Kylo Ren keeping the helmet on during
     sexytimes but what if Hux? wore the helmet??? (ʘ‿ʘ) Hi my name is
     kyloream here are 1500 words about my huge hecking helmet kink
     Chapter-specific content warnings: uhm Kylo Ren’s helmet? Sensory
     deprivation? Mild claustrophobia? There isn’t anything gory or creepy
     here…I’m really bad at following the guro side of these prompts.
     Fic title/inspiration: “Leaf” by Clams Casino.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Kylo Ren’s helmet stares at Hux, intimidating and impassive. The dark oxidized
surface is scraped and cracked from years of wear in battle, though the
chromium plating around the eyes still glows. He can just make out the visor’s
darkened transparisteel lens, doubtlessly a feature that can be adjusted from
Ren’s perspective. The longer he stares at it, the more he picks up minuscule
details he hadn’t noticed before: a large dent on the back of the helmet toward
the left side, the vertical ridges above the helmet’s face mask, the tear-shape
pattern that radiates underneath the visor.
The helmet turns Ren into something immortal and inhuman, a symbol of the
darkness in the Force. Hux remembers their first meeting, how he had believed
Ren to be older, possibly not even human, a disfigured warlord who’d survived
the extermination of the Sith. He hadn’t expected a man with a boyish face that
was too expressive. The man in question currently watches Hux with wide eyes as
he examines the helmet, turning it over in his hands.
“You want to wear it, don’t you?”
Hux feels his face redden. “What I want to do and what I oughtto do are two
very different things.”
Ren rolls over on the bed. He’s taken off most of this clothing, though he
still wears his leggings and undershirt. “Don’t lie. You’ve been imagining what
it would be like to put it on since we first met.” Hux thinks to himself about
how Ren is irritatingly right. He’d started thinking about it as soon as he’d
learned Ren didn’t need it to breathe, had nothing to hide except his youth.
“I’m not breaking some ancient rule established by the Knights of Ren in doing
this?”
“It’s my helmet,” says Ren. “You have my permission to wear it.”
Hux shrugs, runs his fingers around the edges searching for the release valves.
“They’re by the face mask,” Ren offers, to which Hux exasperatedly sucks his
teeth, pressing his thumbs on two indentations at the space where the mask
meets the body of the helmet. There’s a mechanical whir, and then the face
panel raises, widening the neck opening enough for Hux to place it over his
head.
There’s a moment of claustrophobia as Hux adjusts to the darkness inside the
helmet. There’s a narrow metal band that spans the back of the helmet with
hooks that fits around the crook of his ears, like wearing a pair of glasses
backwards, though he has no idea what it’s for. The transparasteel visor has
some sort of polarization filter and the already muted colors in the room
appear even more monochromatic. He briefly wonders how Ren manages to see
anything. He breathes in nervously, and can smell Ren’s breath on the inside of
the face mask. The entire helmet has the lived-in, slightly sour smell of sweat
and body oil.
“How do you feel?”
“Strange,” says Hux, and he hears his own voice, plus the distorted half-
amplification from the mask’s vocabulator. He has the disconcerting feeling
he’s only experienced when hovering between sleep and wakefulness.
“Can I…can I close you up?” Hux nods, and if it weren’t for the strangeness of
the entire experience he supposes the way the helmet wobbles unsteadily on his
head would be comical. Ren comes into view, biting the edge of his lip as he
presses his thumbs against the catches. The servomotors whir again and the face
mask snaps back in place.
Hux wonders how long it took Ren to get used to wearing the helmet. It still
feels claustrophobic, too warm for his liking, and now that it’s locked around
his head he can barely feel any ventilation, can’t hear any sounds. He rubs his
hands together in front of his face and is shocked to hear the sound of skin
rubbing together around his ears
“Bone conduction,” offers Ren. “A primitive method of transmitting sound, but
one the Knights have used when crafting our helmets for centuries. It’s an
interesting way of hearing things, isn’t it?”
“It is,” says Hux, and he’s startled to hear the new mechanized voice that
comes out in place of his own. It’s not Ren’s voice, but it isn’t his, either.
“How long…how long did it take you to get used to, ah,” he jabs a finger at the
helmet.
“Less time than you’d think,” says Ren. He straddles Hux where he kneels on the
mattress. “I really wanted it.”
Hux sighs, and the sound is very reminiscent of Darth Vader’s iconic
rebreather. “I can’t imagine why,” he says in his not-voice.
“It represents knowledge of the Dark, you know.” Ren leans his head against
Hux’s shoulder. It’s disconcerting to feel his head with the barrier in place,
to feel his hair tickling his neck but not his face. “And it cements your
identity as a Knight.”
“Strange boy,” murmurs Hux. Ren’s arms fold around him, holding him close. He
can feel his heart beating against Ren’s chest, is certain Ren can feel it too.
Hux closes his eyes and tries to get used to this sensation.
He’s taken aback when he feels Ren’s cheek brush up against the side of the
helmet, and he’s even more bewildered as he feels Ren’s lips brush against the
metal. “What on earth—” he starts to say, but then Ren’s face is in front of
the visor, his eyes half-lidded, his lips wet.
“Don’t speak,” he replies, his voice low, and then he presses his mouth against
the face mask and sucks hard.
It’s a strange sensation, being kissed and being unable to kiss back. Hux can
hear Ren kissing him, finds himself straining behind the mouthpiece
desperately. His mouth touches the warming metal and he’s met only with the
stale taste of Ren’s mouth. It’s off-putting, and yet it isn’t, and bizarrely
feels like being in Ren’s head.
He must have projected that thought to Ren, because he catches his lips as they
quirk into a smile. “That’s a thought,” he says, before pressing his hands to
the back of the helmet (the back of Hux’s head, he thinks for a fraction of a
second) and pulling Hux deeper into a kiss. Suddenly Hux can feel Ren’s lips,
both the sensation of being kissed and of kissing. A moan escapes his mouth and
at the sound Ren works his mouth, running his tongue against the surface of the
helmet and sighing.
Hux can feel his arousal tenting his underwear, and reaches down to free
himself from his briefs. Ren pulls away for a moment, spits into his hands, and
then his hand joins Hux’s, his fingers massaging the length of his cock. With
his other hand, he guides Hux’s hand into his leggings, where his own erection
is tenting the fabric. Hux revels in the girth of Ren’s cock and moans again,
pulling an arm around his shoulders and pressing them closer.
He’s sure Ren must be projecting, because he feels as though his hand is
broader, wider than it actually is. He and Ren each have their left hands
wrapped around each other’s cocks, and yet in the moment Hux feels as though
they’ve merged into one person. Hux can feel Ren as though he’s layered himself
on top of his own body, can feel the tension of hard muscle over the muscles in
his own arms, chest, and back. He gasps, feels light-headed beneath the helmet,
crashes his face against Ren as more hungry kisses press around his mouth,
around his nose and cheeks.
Ren pulls at his own cock, bringing them both together in one massive hand, and
the sensation of being stroked together with Ren is enough to push Hux over the
edge. He throws his arms around Ren’s shoulders, shuddering and gasping, and
feels Ren spill over as though he came as well. He feels giddy, his face hot
and metallic and slick with saliva. He sighs again, and this time his voice
feels natural.
Ren rubs circles into his back for what feels like an eternity before unsealing
the helmet and pushing it off Hux’s face. He’s certain he must look a mess,
hair plastered to his sweaty head, pupils blown, drool around his mouth, but
Ren kisses him anyway. “You enjoyed yourself,” he says between kisses as they
fall backward onto the mattress.
“So did you,” says Hux, slotting himself deeper into Ren.
Chapter End Notes
     Comin' up next: ZOMBIES AND THE UNDEAD
***** Lvl (Undead/Zombies) *****
Chapter Summary
     An Emperor-verse story in which Kylo and Hux get their greatest wish
     ／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼ killing Snoke and ascending the throne
     Chapter-specific content warnings: Major character death, temporary
     major character death? Not gory at all.
     Fic title/inspiration: “Lvl” by Clams Casino.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
In the end, Snoke asked Kylo to kill the General. Hux, for his part, embraced
death with the quiet command and resolution he approached most unpleasant
things, did not even flinch when Kylo drove his lightsaber into his chest. And
Snoke was so pleased to watch the body drop to the unpolished floors, the
hateful general who had despised him and challenged him at every opportunity
silenced. He was so proud of his once-apprentice that he descended from his
dais to lay his hands on Kylo Ren and shower blessings upon him.
Yet Snoke, with all his wisdom, all his reliance of Force visions, did not
anticipate Kylo Ren’s lightsaber powering on as they embraced. He didn’t have
time to react as the blade angled up into his ancient body, as it severed his
spinal cord and shot straight through his brain. 
From there, it was only a matter of time for Kylo to find and obliterate the
root of Snoke’s power: a massive kyber crystal that radiated dark red light,
hidden in the tabernacle behind the dais. In his younger days Snoke told him
the tabernacle contained relics of the Order of Ren which would cause anyone
who looked upon them to go insane. How gullible he had been. 
The Dark Side had used soul crystals for millennia. The technique prolonged
life by allowing the soul to dwell outside the body, tethered by the Force. The
body could be healed of injuries more rapidly, could even be replaced with a
new mechanical or organic body so long as the crystal Force bond was re-
established. Once created, a soul crystal was impossibly hard to destroy, which
made them ideal for those seeking immortality.
It took Kylo less than a minute to slice the crystal in half with his
lightsaber, and he continued hacking at it until it was fine ruby dust.
Thus satisfied, he powered off his lightsaber, clipped it to his belt, and
walked over to General Hux’s body. He prostrated himself before the body and
unzipped the tunic, surveying the damage. The hole in Hux’s chest missed his
heart and spine by centimeters, though it had badly damaged his lungs. Kylo
sighed, lifted his palms upward, and began to channel the Force into his body.
Energy transference was an incredibly taxing technique, one which left Kylo
fatigued and operating at a low level of Force sensitivity for days afterward.
In this situation, it was the only option he had. As he felt the Force growing
in his palms, heavy and solid, he pushed his own energy into it before pressing
his hands firmly against Hux’s chest. Red-golden light surrounded them and Kylo
was glad for the armor and helmet he wore to protect himself from the energy
expelled during the blast. 
The throne room felt incredibly dark and cold as the Force transfer faded away.
Kylo looked down at Hux’s healed chest, watching for the effects.
Slowly, Hux’s lungs began to take in air.
Kylo felt his heart rate speed up and quickly unlocked his helmet.
Hux’s eyes twitched for a moment, his mouth taking in air. Suddenly, his gray-
green eyes blinked sleepily. “…Ren?”
“Welcome back, General,” Kylo said. His face broke out into the first genuine
smile he’d given in a long time and he pressed his forehead to Hux’s.
“Did…did it work?”
“The Supreme Leader is dead.” He gestured to the body, cleaved in two some
meters away from Hux’s own. 
“And you…”
“And I destroyed the crystal. He’s gone for good. I couldn’t have done it
without you.” Kylo smiled warmly at Hux. “Thank you.”
Hux pushed himself up from the floor and leaned his head against Kylo's chest,
listening to his heartbeat. “I suppose I’m alright with you stabbing me in the
chest if it meant Snoke’s death.” His eyes twinkled and he twined his fingers
together with Kylo’s. “I’m looking forward to ascending this throne as Emperor,
with you as my Hound.”
Kylo smiled back. “As the Emperor?”
Hux noted something off about the smile. Kylo’s mouth was wide, his voice was
gentle, and yet the smile hadn’t spread to his eyes. There was something
altogether predatory about his gaze. “Of course, you’ll be my right hand,” he
said quickly, hoping to ease Kylo’s fears, “and you will play an important role
in all military decisions, using your command of the Force, and you'll—” 
“You forget that I hold your life in the palm of my hand.” Kylo’s voice flipped
from submission to control. His fingers traced over the hilt of his newly
redesigned lightsaber. “You can’t travel more than a hundred meters from this
before the Force bond completely weakens. You’ll lose control of your body and
become a lifeless corpse,” he murmured, nuzzling Hux’s head, "and only I can
heal your injuries. Imagine if the First Order discovered their emperor was
dead.”
“Give me the crystal,” said Hux. The fearful needles of anxiety rose around his
head. “It’s my soul, and it belongs to me.” He reached for the blade, but found
an invisible bubble surrounded it. 
Kylo laughed. “Why would I do that? Your crystal is permanently housed in of my
lightsaber. A plasma blade with a soul crystal is a powerful conduit to the
Force. You are the reason I could destroy Snoke’s crystal,” he added, smiling
down at the oxidized hilt. 
“This wasn’t the plan!”
“The plan was to kill Snoke and ascend the throne, General,” said Kylo. His
eyes were steely. “Which we will do. You can play at being Emperor, if you
want. Wear all white and a crown of laurels, have a marble throne, create a
neo-Imperial court. But remember, my Emperor,” he said mockingly, leaning his
mouth close to Hux’s, “I am the Supreme Leader. And your life belongs to me.”
Kylo kissed Hux, and Hux let him. His lips and mouth remained cool.
Chapter End Notes

     DO NOT THROW SOULS ／人ʘ ‿‿ ʘ人＼
      
     Tune in next time for cyborgs, yo.
***** I'm The Devil (Conjoined Bodies) *****
Chapter Summary
     Sometime this past winter I remember seeing a post on Tumblr about
     combining your first fandom with your most recent fandom, and I
     thought “Oooh, I wonder what I can do to cross Dragonball Z and Star
     Wars?” I’d say this fic qualifies.
     *whispers* fuuuuu……sioooooooooon…………
     Chapter-specific content warnings: body horror, eye horror (no eye
     injury). Literal Kylux.
     Fic title/inspiration: “I’m_The_Devil” by Clams Casino.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The first thing Hux is aware of is pain, so much pain, more pain than he’s ever
felt in his life. He feels as though he’s been torn limb to limb, then set on
fire, then eviscerated again. This is rapidly followed by a sensation of
wrongness. He’s in pain, but it isn’t his own pain, somehow, the screaming
muscles in his body don’t feel like his own. He wonders if this is Kylo Ren
projecting, if, at some point in their journey to Snoke’s citadel, he’s started
unloading his sensations onto Hux. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s
happened. 
Ren?he thinks uncertainly. Are you projecting?
He’s met with silence. Hux can’t see anything, can’t hear, tries to move his
pain-filled body, and is beginning to wonder what went wrong when the screaming
begins.
It’s not his voice screaming, either.
Ren! What are you doing, Ren!?
He can hear shuddering gasps, the sounds of a panic attack, followed by loud,
fearful sobbing.
Ren. Explain to me what’s going on. 
The sobbing continues, Ren seemingly inconsolable. I…I don’t know. It hurts,
Hux.
What do you mean, you don’t know? What are you doing in my head? Why are you
projecting?
I’m not projecting. You’re projecting.
That’s impossible, I don’t have that ability. 
There’s silence, and then Ren begins crying again, even more noisily. Get a
hold of yourself, Ren, and tell me what happened.
All Hux gets in response are more tears, peppered by Ren blubbering. I’m so
sorry, General, he weeps out. I’m so, so sorry. He's about to ask what Ren’s
done and if it’s at all reversible when his senses suddenly and very wildly
kick into gear. 
Almost all of them do. He still can’t move, can’t feel his body (which is a
relief, a respite from the intolerable pain he felt earlier), but everything
else he observes makes his mouth go very dry. 
Hux is lying on a table in a brightly lit room. It looks like it’s made of
duracrete and the fixtures overhead cast everything in painfully bright white
light. The air feels different than on the Finalizer, there’s an antiseptic
quality that’s different from the recycled air onboard the ship, and Hux
hazards a guess that he’s on a planet somewhere rather than in space. There’s
the distant hum of machinery, and the lights drone above him. He briefly
wonders if he and Ren have been captured by the Resistance, if this is one of
their holding cells.
Then the face of Supreme Leader Snoke swims into his view.
If Hux were in control of his body he would recoil, but since he’s paralyzed he
supposes his eyes alone express his surprise and horror. He realizes it’s his
first time seeing Snoke in person, and yet everything about him is familiar. He
appears to be slightly taller than two meters, his skin withered and leathery
and the color of a corpse under water. Somehow Hux knows that Snoke’s skin will
be slick with cold sweat if he touches him, that the odor of death lingers in
his wake. The Supreme Leader’s eyes glitter down at him with disappointment.
Distantly, Hux hears Ren crying.
“Be silent,” hisses Snoke, with a wave of his hand. Ren’s sobs vanish, as
though a hand were clapped over his unseen mouth. Hux realizes he’s completely
alone now, except for Snoke, and the reality frightens him. Snoke closes his
eyes for a moment. “Neither of you will speak, not until I finish speaking to
you.” He looks off, and Hux wonders if he’s addressing Ren, if Ren is strapped
down on a table just out of eyeshot.
“Kylo Ren. Armitage Hux. Both of you have profoundly disappointed me. As
commanders of the First Order, who were highly trained to uphold its mission,
you let it down at the moment when you  were most needed.
“Hux. By failing to note the faulty oscillators on Starkiller Base, and not
addressing this error earlier, you were complicit in the destruction of the
First Order’s super weapon. Your troops’ inability to dispatch the Resistance’s
X-Wings shows a notable lack of command. 
“Ren. By failing to retrieve the droid on Jakku with a map to Luke Skywalker,
you once again were unable to destroy the last Jedi in the galaxy. You
unwittingly allowed an untrained Force sensitive scavenger to escape from an
interrogation cell, and by confronting Han Solo at Starkiller Base, you were
unable to defend it during its greatest moment of need.
“When I assigned you both to the Finalizer and to Starkiller Base, I assumed I
had coupled intelligence and military command with strength and Force mastery.
But now I see you cannot work effectively as co-commanders.” 
Snoke sighs. "I should destroy you for your failures. However, I have
graciously created an alternative arrangement for you.” Hux feels the hairs on
the back of his neck prickle, as if Ren is back in his mind. He isn't crying,
but Hux can sense his heart racing, his labored breathing. They feel like
they’re in his body as well.
“There is a technique practiced by some Force sensitive schools in which two
beings may merge, temporarily or permanently, into one body. It’s done to
increase one’s strength in the Force, and to enhance one’s ability. Typically
it’s done by two beings of similar Force-sensitivity, but there are other ways
a fusion may take place.” Snoke walks out of view, and Hux can hear him
pressing some panels against a wall. The table begins to move, shifting to a
vertical position, a mirror positioned directly across from it, and as the
table rotates Hux is aware that hisheart (if it is his?) is racing. “As you
might have guessed,” Snoke continues, “that is your fate."
The first thing Hux notices are the eyes. The body reflected in the mirror has
two pairs of them, set in an impossibly long face with a wide mouth and a
delicate jawline. One pair, toward the top, are Ren’s sorrowful brown. Below
it, Hux sees—and blinks—his own gray-green eyes. He feels as if he would pass
out, were he not firmly attached to the table. Snoke is speaking, but he barely
registers the words.
“Under this fusion, you have been bonded together in a new body for life. You
will find that Armitage Hux’s brain takes priority over Kylo Ren’s in your new
body. Ren’s mind still exists—I couldn’t let two decades of training in the
Force be diminished. Hux’s muscles have also been grafted onto yours via the
Force, offering you greater strength, endurance, and agility.” 
The body is huge, taller and bulkier than Ren’s ever was, muscles bulging under
the skin. And their skin seems to ripple between Ren’s and Hux’s, sections of
Hux’s paler freckles like patches around areas where muscles seemed to be
grafted. Ren’s eyes are filled with tears, and Hux watches as they silently
trickle down their nose, blinking them away as they fall into his own eyes.
"I wonder what I should call you,” says Snoke. He places a hand on Hux (and
Ren? He—no, they—still can’t believe what they’re seeing). It’s clammy and
cold, just as they knew it would be.
“I could call you Kylux, I suppose,” his mouth quirks up at the edges, “though
what would be the use of using two names you’ve sullied? Or perhaps Bentage,”
he says, and Hux watches as Ren’s eyes screw closed, tears flowing even more
readily down their face. Panic is seeping into Hux’s mind, and they wish they
could run, could attack Snoke, could reverse whatever horrors he’s incurred on
their bodies. For all the talk of fusing them together to make them more
powerful, they feel powerless.
“No,” says Snoke. “No names that tie to Armitage Hux, or Kylo Ren, or Ben
Organa Solo. After all, you aren’t either of them. I’ll give you a fresh start.
You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” A cruel thing to say, thinks Hux, as neither he
nor Ren are fully in control of this body, can’t nod or shake their head. Ren’s
despair is overwhelming, and Hux finds tears in his own eyes.
“As of today,” says Snoke, “you will be known as The Hound.” He smiles. “A
Force servant of my own creation, with training in both the Light and the Dark
and the mind of a general to guide it.” He waves his hand in front of their
face. “You may now speak.”
They can move their mouth, and yet it feels foreign, too wide and too narrow at
the same time. They begin to speak, and their voice is that of a stranger.
“No,” they stutter out at last.
You will thank me,says a voice in their head that’s neither Hux nor Ren’s. It’s
a powerful command, one they can’t avoid, one which commands them to move their
body and prostrate themself before the Supreme Leader.
“Thank you,” says The Hound. Their knees are bent, their voice submissive, and
impossibly sad tears fall from both of their pairs of eyes. 
Chapter End Notes
     …..HAAAAAAAA!
     (I’m an asshole.)
     (Also I suppose this is closer to Steven Universe forced-fusion than
     DBZ Metamoran/Potara fusion, but SU was clearly inspired by DBZ so.)
     Next prompt: bondage!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
