#top!general hux

[casp1an-sea]

someone told me to draw him in a mesh top with top surgery scars so I indulged. I Always love some trans Hux

Ik it’s slopppy but yk when Isn’t my art sloppy? I didn’t make him as skinny as I he is actually but I like it. I think he must have swapped styles with Kylo for the day lmao He’s definitely flipping off Kylo

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@xen-blank, @thehollowwriter, @keii-starz

@krenenbaker @elenauaurs @the-banana-0verlord @edith-is-a-cat @dove-da-birb

@fizzydreamz @ravenwing0110

@sunshinechildskywalker @silly-little-goober-core

@cyan-magenta-your-mom @messylxve @magics0up

@armiestice

@slamophile

@here-comes-the-moose

@ipomegranatexx

@b1tterbiscuit7

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@fives-ren

@not-so-allegiant-general

@jaynesilver

@thegeneralorder

@existing-sadly

@tomatette

@lessdenied

@fridayincarnate

@huxkisser

@rommonoch

@bostarsky

@transmasc-vampire-is-tired

@misbon-god-of-mischief

@kira-mortham

@piecesofeden11

@vanta-nev00

@threewinterssnow

@theosb0rnway

[viciouscreatures]

My new method of trying to fight executive dysfunction: imagining Hux saying "Well, I suppose if it's for morale then we must" to encourage me to do the thing.

somehow instead of saying "as a treat", I've started using the phrase "for morale", as if my body is a ship and its crew, and I (the captain) have to keep us in high spirits, lest we suffer a mutiny in the coming days.

and so I will eat this small block of fancy cheese, for morale. I will take a break and drink some tea, for morale. I will pick up that weird bug, for morale.

I'm not sure if it helps, but it does entertain me

[leviathanspain]

do you think i could request a kylo ren x reader smut, please? whatever happens is up to you but something filthy would be great, very dominant kylo please <3

bonus points if the reader is a lil bit of a brat and forced into submission (only if you're comfy with it).

(p.s. no rush. take your time <3)

spit it out

kylo ren x reader

synopsis: your disobedience earns you a punishment

his body weight was crushing you with every thrust. you stifled a moan as he bottomed out, his balls smacking against your ass as you struggled to breathe. you gripped at the sheets under you and heaved for a breathe, but kylo was relentless. he had been controlling your breathes, using the force to choke you as he wanted.

you had cum at least twice already, reluctantly as you refused to give him the satisfaction. but kylo knew what you were trying to do, pissing him off was only hurting you more.

he gripped your legs, shuddering as you squeezed your cunt around his length. “fuck-“ he grunted, and continued to drill into you.

you looked at him, teeth gnashing as he moved to grab at your jaw. he held you tightly, “cum. cum!” he yelled, but your refusal was evident.

you let your eyes roll back into your head as you ignored the knot in your belly. he felt so fucking good inside of you, you wanted to cum, wanted to feel him inside of you while you skyrocketed into pleasure, but you refused.

kylo had overlooked you for a mission, instead letting a group of young stormtroopers go instead. you had been unable to contain your anger and yelled at him in front of his crew, in front of general hux. the embarrassment alone had earned you a spanking. but your attitude had earned you a place under him, struggling to breathe and stuffed with cum.

he smacked the flesh of your ass for encouragement, “fucking cum!” his words echoed in your mind and you contemplated letting go, giving him what he wanted. but kylo did not give you what you wanted, and refused to explain himself to you.

you ignored him and felt the air constrict in your lungs, “the stormtroopers i sent will die. it’s a deadly mission, you think i wanted you on that?” he looked down at you, breathing heavily as his hand moved down to your clit.

he thrusted at an angle, focusing the force on choking you, “you didn’t think about that, you dumb fucking baby.” he insulted you and smacked your ass again.

you felt the pressure release off your throat and you heaved for a breath. you felt tears prick at your eyes as his hand brought you to your orgasm. as much as you wanted to keep being stubborn and upset, there was truth in his words. of course he would not let you die, and you were dumb to think he would.

you reached out to grip his arm, moaning loudly as he made you cum.

kylo settled back for a moment, watching you shudder as the pleasure washed over you. as your defeat lingered, kylo got on top of you again, “we are not done.” he whispered, thrusting into you suddenly.

[armitagehuxsleepschedule]

okay so like i'm not sure how coherent this is but i think general hux functions as a really good microcosm on why fascism does not and cannot work.

so you've got this guy who is a "well-intentioned" fascist. he wants to conquer the galaxy so that he can make it a better place. make the wealth distribution more equitable. make sure everybody has a place and a purpose. noble goals, on paper.

but then his operation gets hijacked by snoke, then kylo ren, then palpatine, all of whom only want power for its own sake and couldn't care less about improving the galaxy.

on the surface, it might seem like hux could have succeeded if only he didn't get ousted, except... fascism encourages obedience, conformity. enforces a very strict hierarchy. outright discourages critical thinking and questioning those who outrank you. and fascism is a system, not one person. no matter how "well-intentioned" any individual fascist may be, no matter how genuinely that one person may believe they're only wielding authoritarianism for noble purposes, a system with such a strong focus on obedience encourages corrupt authority figures to take control.

on top of that, maintaining control even for a "benevolent" dictator requires them to commit human rights violations, and most people do not appreciate having their rights violated. telling them "trust me, it's actually for the greater good!" isn't gonna accomplish much if you're also war-criming them.

hux is driven and incredibly smart, but he's also naive and idealistic. the best-case scenario for him without kylo and palpatine? supreme leader hux would spend the rest of his life battling resistance to his rule both within the first order and from the people they conquered, then die young from overwork. or maybe get assassinated.

fascism digs its own grave. it is not possible to use fascist methods for good.

anyway idk why i'm writing a seriouspost about the futility of fascism and "benevolent dictators" through the framing device of a star wars villain, especially considering there is no way he was intentionally written to be a demonstration of that particular topic, but eh. it is what it is

[dckweed]

➺ MASTERLIST

below you'll find a master list of my collective series of works on tumblr. currently, i'm only adding those that are specifically a series because those are the most that i get messages about and i have alot of singular posts and it would be too time consuming currently to go through and add them!

⤷ TOP GUN: MAVERICK (open for requests)

⤿ Jake 'hangman' Seresin

Sugar Sweet: one, two, three,

Babygirl: one, two, three, four, five, six, seve, eight, (this series is also open for request!)

⤿ Bradley 'rooster' Bradshaw

⤿ Robert 'bob' Floyd

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND: part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six,

⤿ Pete 'maverick' Mitchell

⤷ STRANGER THINGS (currently closed for requests while i catch up)

⤿ Steve Harrington

love grows: one, two

⤿ Billy Hargrove

I feel so stupid: one, two, three

Not parent friendly: one, two, three, four

⤷ FARGO

⤿ Gator Tillman

THE NEXT THING YOU KNOW: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen,

TNTYK BLURBS: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight

⤷ STAR WARS

⤿ General Hux

what was i made for?: taglist, one, two, three, four, five, six

⤷ BRIDGERTON

⤿ Benedict Bridgerton

tormented tragedy: taglist, one, two, three, four

⤷ COD

⤿ Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

rosie!: one, two, three, four, five, six

⤷ THE VAMPIRE DIARIES & THE ORIGINALS (open for requests)

⤿ Elijah Mikaelson

Devilish Delights: one, two

[darthlenaplant]

Personally I think it's weird how apparently only twinks are allowed to bottom, but on the flipside everyone else in a given fandom might think that I am weird for preferring my problematic twinks to top.

Why is THIS character always woobified and femme’d and bottom-coded! Why not this OTHER guy?? Is it racism somehow??? No it’s because he’s a fucking twink why is this so hard for people to understand. You don’t have to like it but stfu about how it’s problematic it isn’t you’re just being weird.

--

[generalkenobee]

Kylo finding you after being snatched from him and all he can focus on is getting you 🥹

"I wouldn't stop till I found you"

Hey so I literally thought I wrote this and had it posted but apparently Tumblr was being dumb so please don't be upset 😭

Warnings: language, violence, Kylo being the angry hoe he is, death, let me know if I missed anything:)

(he's so pretty omfg-)

"no, I don't think you understand." KYLOS VOUCE was so loud that it echoed through the hanger bag as he yelled at an assortment of different piolets and stormtroopers.

"we won't rest till she's found. We won't stop for anything, it doesn't matter what it is. This is our top priority!"

Kylo felt hot white rage seeping into his body. Why did they have to take you. They could've taken a stormtrooper, a cadet, Hux, there were so many people who knew more.

You were completely innocent, sitting in the rebels interrogation room being yelled at by some man with short brown curls, he was going on about how "we won't let you go till you tell us" he was going on with the act of why they would do.

"Poe stop it. It's not like she's Ren" a tall, young girl with quite the completion walked into the room slapping Poe's shoulder "I'll take it from here"

The women looked at you for a moment almost as if you was deciding something.

"you're not evil..you're" she paused taking your hand in hers and closing her eyes "well you're a kind soul with nothing but good intentions...why are you with Ren?"

You looked up at her from your seat not saying a word

---

"Supreme Leader, we've found something on the meridian system" The general said turning his data pad towards Kylo.

"well? Why are you still here ?! Go get the fighters ready and prepare my ship, we're going to the meridian system."

The supreme leader walked away from Hux feeling a new sense of pride in hopes of finding you.

---

"there they are sir"

"prepare for landing near the south passage. I have a Jedi to kill"

When his ship landed he practically jumped out and ran toward the entrance, saber in hand

He was so mad that anyone who came near him got thrown to the ground via the force. He didn't stop running till he got to the interaction room when you were sitting with Rey, her hand in yours

Now this was a sight to behold. How dare she?

Kylo used his saber to cut a hole through the door and walked through

"why?! Why would you take her?! She doesn't know anything, you could've taken anyone on the ship but you took her!" Kylo screamed throwing Rey against the wall so hard that there was now a crack where she had hit.

"Kylo!" You screamed jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around him pulling him closer

"I-I didn't tell them anything-" hot tears started to pool in your eyes while Kylo traced your back giving it light scratches "I missed you so much..I didn't know if I would ever see you again.."

Kylo looked at you and laid his lips into yours more gentle then he ever has

"you know I wouldn't stop till I found you"

[resurgentclass-stardestroyer]

Soooo I've been obsessed with the image in this post since I first saw it, and decided to hunt down the source [Star Wars Character Encyclopedia: Updated and Expanded (2016 Edition)]. Here's Mitaka's page, and a close-up of that image; unfortunately it's tiny!

Feel free to use, edit etc.

Update: here's the best digital version of that image that I can find, slightly edited [maybe I'll clean it up someday..]:

Additional notes and transcript below:

[Google lists Mitaka's actor Sebastian Armesto at 5'8" and the fact that they added 3" to him makes me giggle. Let him be a little short!]

The fact that Mitaka's homeworld is listed as 'Uknown' is interesting to me. I wonder it's something thought out by the writers, or just hand-waving [guy didn't even have a name in the movie credits, iirc]. I've long hced that Mitaka was born on a starship to Imperial parents - but it's also possible that Mitaka was taken into the FO at a very young age and simply doesn't remember his home planet.

As most Mitaka enjoyers know, Mitaka graduated at the top of his class in the Academy. Despite being appearing terrified when facing Ren, he's evidently very, very good at his job. And, I know "Ren's unforgiving command style" is being tongue in cheek, but it does implicate a contrast to Hux's command style, which is apparently not-so unforgiving.

Something I see some get wrong — Mitaka is part of the FO Navy, not the Army. He's in charge of starships rather than ground forces, and he would make the ranks of Commander, Captain, and Admiral rather than Major, Colonel, and General.

So apparently Mitaka was indeed, under Hux, the one in command of not only recapturing Dameron and Finn, but also the retrieval missions on Jakku, and giving orders — which to me seems quite a step above the responsibilities of a mere Lieutenant and why I hc Mitaka as a Lieutenant Commander, but I digress. It makes sense then why it was specifically Mitaka who was designated to tell Ren about their failure to capture both the droid and the 'fugitives' — though it's also my hc [have lots of those] that Mitaka could have put this on an underling, but chose to face Ren and take the blame personally out of a sense of duty and honor, despite being terrified.

Editing note, because I'm a graphics nerd at heart: the half-tone dots in the close-up are predictably driving me bonkers, but from what I can tell, there's not much that can be done about it other than a time-consuming paint/smudge over, or messing with PS plug-ins [as far as I know -- I'm very new to scanning print]. I tried some descaling and blurring, but of course you can't do much of that without a loss of quality and clarity, and that's something I hate to sacrifice. I'll keep messing with it. Or, if someone has any idea of another source for this picture you would be my savior ! This is the only instance I can find of this image.

Transcript:

Lieutenant Mitaka First Order Officer

Data File Affiliation: First Order Homeworld: Unknown Species: Human Height: 1.8m (5ft 11in) Appearances: VII See Also: First Order TIE pilo; Finn; General Hux; Kylo Ren

Dopheld Mitaka is an attentive young officer serving aboard the First Order flagship Finalizer. A top graduate in his Academy class, Mitaka is not prepared for Kylo Ren's unforgiving command style.

The First Order naval uniform is descended from the sharp, authoritarian styles worn by officers of the Old Empire. The charcoal gray fabric signifies naval service, while the flared breeches and stiff boots help in maintaining a rigid posture. The command cap carries the starburst symbol of the First Order.

Tough Job After failing to recapture the escaped prisoner Poe Dameron and the deserter FN-2187, Mitaka continues to oversee the progress of search teams scouring the desert wastes of Jakku. Mitaka has the unenviable task of updating Kylo Ren on the search after the fugitives flee Jakku aboard the Millennium Falcon.

[Image Caption] Mitaka issues orders on behalf of General Hux to stop the escaping TIE fighter carrying Poe Dameron and FN-2187.

[liminalpebble]

Peb's Unhinged Halloween Party! 🎃 🍂 ☕️ 🕯 👻 😈

My dear sweet, beautiful feral folks,

SAS, Holy Order of the Sacred Mango, Loki's Subjects, Blessed Followers of Eddie Spaghetti, Wives of the Feral Raccoon Munson Boy, Geta's girls, and Hux hoes,

I cordially invite you, once again, to Peb's Unhinged Halloween Party with all our favorite fictional men.

The beautiful ancient mansion is decorated festively and the music is a-blarin.

Loki, hasn't shown up yet, the diva (or maybe he has, knowing his disguise skills we may never know). Either way, I'm sure he won't be able to resist a grand entrance of some variety.

The ghost of Thomas Sharpe mingles on the vast marble dance floor, forlorned and handsome, wondering if any of these beautiful living creature would do him the honor of a waltz.

Hux, our brutal little red-headed general, has hidden himself away in the library with the best of the scotch. He's brooding about being dragged here, but I'm sure the right person could crack his shell delightfully.

One particularly villainous man with deep black eyes and the golden robes of an emperor is strutting around. When you tell him, “nice costume,” he only grins maniacally and give you a filthy laugh.

Eddie has already polished off a six pack by himself and is hanging from the chandelier dressed as Dio, and belting out Holy Diver..uh...maybe...we should help him?

I'm very honored to be your host yet again. I'm at the top of the staircase, dressed all in red as Wanda/The Scarlet Witch and holding up a glass of red wine in a toast to all of my lovely friends.

Enjoy! And let me know what you're bringing and wearing and up to at this gala event.

Much Spooky Love!

Peb! 🪨 🖊 💜

P.s. Feel free to tag and share! I can only tag so many and it's a mess anyway, so please...the more the merrier.

@sweetsigyn @lokisgoodgirl @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @smolvenger @little-wormwood @coldnique @muddyorbs @lokischambermaid @ladyofthestayingpower @mischief2sarawr @icytrickster17 @anukulee @acidcasualties @mochie85 @mischiefmaker615 @loopsisloops @somnambulic-thing @azula-karai-27 @sailorholly @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @marcotheflychair @textsfromthetva @loz-3 @eleniblue @word-wytch @sarahscribbles @infinitystoner @joyful-enchantress @jennyggggrrr @elegantkoalapaper @alexakeyloveloki @fictive-sl0th @unlucky-number-13 @buttercupcookies-blog @glitchquake @veemoon @leelei1980 @userchai @fairyysoup @babygorewhore @bettyfrommars @morby @queenofstarsign85 @munson-blurbs @lemongingerart @fandxmslxt69 @eddiesxangel

[hux-and-gay]

Soft Kylux Drabble

(don’t ask me why I’m not posting these on Ao3 yet I really could not tell you)

Hux laid in bed quietly reading a book. The early morning sun shone through the window casting a warm glow throughout the bedroom. He enjoyed the peaceful quiet knowing later he’d have to enter the bustling city to go to work. 

He had just turned the page when Kylo walked in. He only glanced up a second before looking back at his book. Even though the man had left to get ready for the day his hair was still a muss and he looked dead on his feet. He flopped down on the bed beside Hux and it only took a second for him to drape himself across Hux’s lap. 

Hux peaked over the top of the book. “What are you doing?”

“Laying down.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking a shower?” 

“I’m too tired.”

“Ren.”

“What?”

“You’re heavy.”

“Okay.” Kylo smirked then grabbed hux by the hips rolling him over so he laid on top of kylo instead. Then shifted him so he was sitting on his lap. 

“I didn’t mean that!” Hux exclaimed. 

“I can watch you read, it doesn’t hurt anyone. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“Kylo you’re not someone easily ignor-“

“Please?”

Hux turned, seeing the longing in Kylo’s eyes. There were times like this where kylo just needed someone to touch, to hold, or be held by. Of course Hux had these moments too but he never had the boldness to act on them. He wasn’t sure what it was this time that was making Kylo feel this way, but he didn’t want him to feel alone.

“Okay…” he paused, resting his head against Kylo’s chest and hearing the small murmur of affection that his boyfriend let out. “I’m not going anywhere you know.” Hux reassured him. 

“I know.” 

“If I hated you or thought you were a monster I would have left by now.”

“I know.”

“Just because we argue doesn’t mean that I-“

Kylo cut him off laughing. “I know, don’t worry I Know. I just wanted to feel you, your weight, your warmth, that’s all.”

“Ah.”

“I love you.”

Hux paused, offering Kylo a smile, albeit briefly. “I’m not too heavy am I?” He said changing the subject slightly. Kylo wasn’t offended; he knew Hux meant it on the inside. 

“You? Heavy? Don’t worry your fine. Besides your ass is cushy.” He squeezed it gently as he teased. 

“Very funny love.” Hux answered sarcastically. “Now I really must get back to my book.”

@fives-ren

@not-so-allegiant-general

@jaynesilver

@thegeneralorder

@existing-sadly

@tomatette

@lessdenied

@fridayincarnate

@huxkisser

@rommonoch

@bostarsky

@transmasc-vampire-is-tired

@misbon-god-of-mischief

@kira-mortham

@piecesofeden11

@vanta-nev00

@threewinterssnow

@theosb0rnway

@irrationalgame

@eggsodaz

@blackberry-command-cap

@vitriolicia

[charlottesbookclub]

time after time – chapter ten (armitage hux x reader)

time after time masterlist

Summary: Hux has worked himself to the point of a breakdown, but you show up at his door when he least expects it

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader; set pre-TFA; hurt/comfort; description of a panic attack; self-loathing; mentions of self-harm; brief suicidal ideation; memories of child abuse; descriptions of food and eating; as always, let me know if I've missed anything!

Words: 5031

Author’s Note: first, please do read the warnings here because there's some heavy stuff in this chapter! if you feel like you need to skip this one, I totally understand! ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 second, this is one of the chapters I'm most excited to post, and I really hope that you'll enjoy it (if you do feel comfy reading it), even though it does deal with some heavy stuff! I'm really really proud of how this came out, and I hope you like it as well!! 🥰🥰

Hux was not going to survive this. He buried his head in his hands, loose strands of red hair that had long ago been set free from their usual gelled bonds falling in disarray around him. His normally immaculate desk was cluttered with scattered notes and devices, dotted with empty cups of caf. Most of his uniform had been abandoned in messy piles, fabric wrinkled and boots fallen over, leaving him only in a pair of leisure pants and the thin black shirt he wore under his uniform top. Moments like this were not unknown to Hux – in fact, they were more common than he would have preferred. But that didn’t mean he was used to the crushing, stifling feeling that filled his chest and throat.

He leaned back in his chair, heaving a sigh that did little to release the pressure that was building in his body. He could practically feel the dark circles forming around his eyes. How long had it been since he had slept? He couldn’t quite remember. He didn’t even bother checking his datapad; he knew it was stacked with notifications that kept piling up. Once again, the timeline for Starkiller had been compressed, and Hux could no longer force his fatigued mind to continue making the calculations needed to submit this last plan.

Just a few more numbers and diagrams and he could finally rest, but the figures refused to coalesce in his mind. The clutter in the room was driving him nearly to madness, but he couldn’t stop to clean it when he just needed to focus. He could smell day-old caf and hear his datapad’s soft humming even though he had silenced it and the light was all wrong and he felt chilled but still sweaty and his head pounded and why couldn’t he just kriffing focus.

A buzz at the door diverted his attention immediately. A blaze of anger shot through him as he shoved himself up from his chair and stalked to the door. Certain it was Mitaka or another one of his personal staff come to ask him for something, his frustrated scowl was already painted on his face when pushed the button to open the door. When it whizzed open, he found you instead. The glower fell from his face in an instant, his mind blanking as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing.

You were leaning quite dramatically against the doorframe, the hyperbolic casualness of it clearly intentional. Your face was so full of cheerfulness that Hux felt he might cry. He realized you were holding a container in your hands as you pushed yourself off the wall with your shoulder.

“Working late, General?” you asked, a brilliant, lightly teasing smile gracing your features. The promise of all the wealth of all the core worlds could have been standing at his door, and it would have paled in comparison to you. 

“I—yes.” He admitted, struggling to form a coherent sentence. He half thought that you might be an exhaustion-induced hallucination, but no: you were real, you were there, you had come to see him.

“May I come in?” you inquired, just the barest hint of hesitation in your voice. You shifted the container in your hands. Come in. You wanted to come in. 

Every expletive Hux had ever heard came crashing through his mind all at once. His quarters were a disaster – wait, no – he was a disaster. He looked down at the sorry state of his clothing and could only imagine the equal nightmare of his face and hair. It was a miracle you hadn’t turned and run the instant you saw him. You probably would do so anyway when you stepped through the door and saw the scene he had made of his rooms. How could he let you see him like this? There was no helping it though – he didn’t have it in himself to turn you away and he so desperately wanted you to stay. But would you even want to after witnessing the utter disorder into which he had thrown his space and himself?

“Y—yes, but… I fear it’s quite a mess.” He ran a trembling hand through his hair, trying to tame the rebellious orange strands. “I’ve been… busy.”

“I don’t mind at all,” you promised with a little reassuring smile. Slowly, hesitantly, dreading the moment you saw his shame and left him standing alone and shaking in the doorway, he moved aside so that you could enter. He had dimmed all his lights to near-darkness, unable to think properly with too much light glaring in on him. You stepped in cautiously, and he watched breathlessly as your eyes adjusted to the gloom. He could see you scan the space, probably taking stock of every item out of place, making note of the utter chaos all around you. Hux hadn’t even closed the door yet, facilitating your exit that he knew was just seconds away. 

But you didn’t run. You just turned to face him, eyes soft and glowing and so full of worry that Hux was sure he was about to collapse at the sight. You reached slowly past him and pressed the button to close the door. It whirred shut, trapping you in his self-made disaster with him. Hux wanted to say something – make some explanation or apology – but he couldn’t think. He couldn’t even breathe.

“Armitage…” The sound of his name on your tongue made his lower lip tremble. “I think you should go sit down.” Despite its framing as a suggestion, Hux knew it was a command. It was the kindest, gentlest order he had ever received in his life. He obeyed without question.

From his desk chair, he watched you make one final appraisal of his utter embarrassment of a room before walking swiftly to the kitchen area. Propping his elbows on the cluttered desk and burying his head in his hands, he tried to slow his fevered breathing, to contain his unseemly shaking. He was less than a week out from his second official date with you and you were going to come back into the room and say you were no longer interested. Why would you be? Who would want to be with the human embodiment of a wrecked Star Destroyer? All loose wires and shards of metal that were unsalvageable for any purpose other than scrap. Despite his efforts, his breathing only became more ragged as he shook harder.

He heard your footsteps approach him slowly, and he readied himself for the killing blow. He was too much of coward to even look up, he realized with disgust. Just as he was about to force himself to face you, he felt the weight of your hand on his shoulder, the glowing warmth that he would have recognized anywhere resting on the thin fabric of his shirt, soaking into his clammy skin. He sensed you place something on the desk in front of him. This bitterest part of him mused that it might be a blaster so he could finally put himself out of his misery.

“Armitage?” Even now he couldn’t resist the sound of his name on your lips. He looked up. You were standing next to him, hand still affixed to his shoulder, watching him with so much care and concern that he wasn’t sure he could bear the softness of it. He sucked in an ugly, gasping breath. “Please eat something.”

That’s when he realized that the object you had set on his desk was a bowl of soup, steam rising off the hot liquid in little wispy spirals. He stared at it, feeling like a droid that had malfunctioned, his mind blank and stuttering. Reaching forward with a trembling hand, he grasped the spoon and dunked it into the thick broth, letting the warmth of it slip down his throat and into his stomach. It was immediately apparent to him that you had made the soup yourself; it swirled with gentle spices that he remembered from the other meals he had shared with you. Thoughts came back to him in pieces: was this what had been in the container you had brought? Had you always intended to do this for him? And if so, why? Why? You had seen him for the failure that he was, and yet you were still here, giving him soup and blessing him with your touch. Hux swallowed another bite, determined to show you that he appreciated your gesture far more than he could ever express, even if it was the last thing you did for him before leaving forever.

When you seemed content that he would actually eat as you had asked, you moved behind his chair without fully removing your hand. Instead, you trailed it along the top of his back, over the base of his neck. Hux could feel every brush of your fingertips as they spread trails of sunlight across his shaking frame. When you reached his other shoulder, you let your palm linger there for a moment before lifting it free. Instantly grieving the loss of physical contact with you, Hux snapped his head around on instinct to follow where you had gone. Of course he had been right, he thought as he watched you move through the room toward the door. You would grant him this one last mercy – you were certainly kind enough for that – before disappearing from his life forever, having witnessed the disaster from which you were saving yourself. 

But then you stopped in the middle of the room. Hux wanted to beg you to just leave, to cut yourself free with one definitive slice and spare him the slow torture of watching it happen. But then you bent over and picked something up. Part of his uniform that he had long ago discarded in heap. Straightening up, you bundled it into your arms before locating the next piece and collecting that as well. It took his fatigued brain a frustratingly long moment to figure out that you were cleaning up his things. The realization hit him like the worst kickback from a blaster he had ever experienced. You were helping him? After everything you had seen? There was nothing – not one single thing – that Hux had ever done or ever could do in his life that would make him worthy of this, he was certain of it. He couldn’t allow you to lift one more finger for his underserving sake. Gripping the table, he made to stand.

“I—please—” but his slight movement and feeble words turned your attention to him instantly, and the comforting weight of your concerned gaze stilled him immediately.

“Armitage, please eat,” you entreated him, eyes wide with worry and shining softly in the pale starlight that seeped in through the windows on the far side of his quarters. There was not a fiber in his body that could deny you such a tender request. With a small nod, he sank back into his seat and continued to take slow bites of the soup.

He watched from his periphery as you picked up each piece of his abandoned clothing and deposited it all down the chute that led to the main laundry facilities. With great care, you retrieved his greatcoat from where Hux had carelessly slung it and straightened it on a hanger in his closet. Then you placed both boots neatly in front of the closet door. He looked on in disbelief as you made your way to him and began stacking his embarrassingly large collection of used caf cups together. It was too much for him to bear. As you reached across to grab the final cup, Hux caught your wrist gently with one tremulous hand. You relaxed into his grip instantly, setting the rest of the cups aside as you turned toward him. He clung to your hand like a lifeline.

“Do you need something?” Worry laced your tone as you searched his face as though trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Why are you doing this for me?” The words came out so pathetically desperate, barely above a shuddering whisper as he flicked his eyes over you nervously, trying to unravel the answer to his question. You face softened instantly upon hearing his question, and you shifted closer until your face was level with his. One hand reached up to cup his cheek, the tender warmth of it so improbable against his skin that he couldn’t help but tremble slightly. There was no hiding the watery hiccup in his chest as he leaned against your welcoming palm.

“Because I care about you, Armitage,” you whispered back, the softest smile Hux had ever seen gracing your features, “is that such an unbelievable idea?”

“Yes,” he choked out, that one quivering word finally breaking the dam of pressure inside of him. He was instantly wracked with hideous sobs, vision clouded with hot tears as he gasped for air. On instinct he tried to pull away, a futile attempt to save you from the utter wreck of him. But instead of letting him curl away from you, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. His face found the crook of your neck and nestled there, feeling the comforting press of your soft skin against his cheeks, his nose, his lips. One of your hands wound its way through his disheveled hair, your fingers combing through his orange locks. Your other arm wrapped around his heaving frame, rubbing gently up and down his back. There were no thoughts left to him except the extraordinary sensation of you all around him. This was the closest he had ever been to anyone and yet he wanted – no, needed – to be closer still, to wrap himself inside you until you filled all his senses, until his heart beat in tandem with yours.

Finally, his gasping sobs subsided, and he reluctantly released his desperate grip on you, raising his head from your shoulder as his chest still shuddered with teary breaths. Somehow you had both ended up on the floor, your body no doubt cocooning him in a protective shell as he collapsed into you. You allowed him to pull away from you slowly, hands still cradling him slightly as though you feared he might come undone again. It wasn’t an unfounded fear. Everything in him felt fragile, like one wrong touch would shatter him. But nothing about the way you touched him would ever be wrong. If he broke, it would not be by your hands.

He stared at you incredulously, ready for the moment when everything came crashing down around him, waiting for you to push away from his crumpled form in disgust. But it never happened. Instead, he found you looking back at him, nothing but tenderness in your gaze. He wiped ineffectually as his cheeks, knowing they were tearstained beyond help. That knowledge only made him rub harder, trying to erase the proof of his weakness. Then his fingernails found his reddened skin and he dug them in, the sharp pain a personal punishment for his complete lack of propriety, of control. But before he could drag long claw marks down his face, he heard a sharp intake of breath and suddenly your hands were clasped over his, pulling them away from his raw cheeks.

“Armitage, stop – you’re going to hurt yourself!” The worry in your voice made your words frantic. He couldn’t believe you were seeing him like this. Kriff, you must be so disgusted with him.

“I deserve to hurt,” he murmured through ragged breaths, unable to look at you.

“What?” The question was breathless with horror, your hands gripping his even tighter.

“I deserve to hurt,” he repeated, spitting the words at himself with utter distain, “I deserve to be punished. Forgive me – I was so weak. Pathetic. I’m a disaster.” He couldn’t contain another round of jagged sobs, the salty tears stinging on his raw skin. He ducked his head further under the weight of his shame.

“Who told you that?” Your voice was quavering, but Hux was surprised to realize that he couldn’t tell whether it was sorrow or anger that caused the tremor. You shifted his hands in yours, clasping over his nails so that if he clenched his fists, they would dig into your skin instead of his. He instinctively relaxed the tightened muscles in his fingers. He could never forgive himself for hurting you. He swallowed thickly, trying to force himself to stop crying.

“Armitage, who told you that?” You repeated your question, firmer this time, but somehow no less gentle. You never broke your grip on his hands. 

“My father,” Hux spat, the unwanted surge of memories causing new tears to spill over his cheeks. “Weakness only results in pain. Weakness must be punished.” The barely whispered words were his father’s, not his, but that didn’t make them any less true to him. They had been borne out in nearly every interaction he’d had, over and over again until they were written on stone in his mind. 

“Armitage,” your voice was so sweet, coaxing him out of himself, but he still couldn’t bear facing you. Not like this. “I was weak.” Hux’s sobs faded into little confused gasps. What were you talking about? “I cried on the bridge, in front of everyone. I cried in my quarters in front of you. Apparently it’s obvious to everyone that I’m not cut out for service on a Star Destroyer. I’ve been very weak – do you think I deserve to be punished too?” Your question made Hux’s head shoot up instantly.

 “No – never! Never!” The words shot from his mouth as fast as he could make them. He couldn’t stomach the idea of you thinking such a thing. Now that he was finally looking at you, he saw sorrow brimming in your eyes. He pulled your entwined hands into his lap and cradled them there, whispering the word once more like a promise: “never.”

 “Then why do you?” The question was so quiet, but the weight of it hung heavy in the air around both of you. He looked down at where your hands were clasped around his own, protecting him from himself. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He didn’t know. It had never even occurred to him to ask such a question. Perhaps you saw him struggling, fighting with himself and his years of pain, because you gently loosed one of your hands from his and brought it up to his face. In an echo of his own gesture from weeks before, you rested your fingers against the side of his face, each one a sunbeam on his skin. With a swipe of your thumb so soft that he almost couldn’t believe a touch could be that gentle, you wiped the lingering tears from the sensitive skin beneath his eye. Then you pressed your palm full against his cheek, letting the warmth of you soak in. He tentatively raised his free hand and cupped it around yours, pressing you even closer to him.

He closed his eyes, taking the deepest breath he could manage, trying to focus on the feeling of your touch against his skin. You were here. You were real. You were touching him. He could feel the room beginning to coalesce around him again, his thoughts gradually clearing, his senses returning. He took one more deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. He could see you much more clearly then, the glaze of tears finally fading from his eyes. You were sitting so close to him, one hand still pressed against his cheek, the other clasped with his in his lap. As you watched him, he saw that the worry and sorrow were beginning to clear from your gaze as well.

“How are you feeling?” you asked gently.

“Better. A little.”

“I’ll take that,” a tiny lilt of lightness crept into your voice as you caressed his cheek with your thumb once more. His eyes flickered closed again as he melted into the gesture.

“Will you promise me one thing?” you asked, voice soft but serious. He nodded against your hand, eyes still closed. “Promise me you won’t hurt yourself.”

“I promise,” he murmured through a shaky exhale, finally opening his eyes to see you gazing back at him, a small smile just barely forming at the edges of your lips. 

“Good – thank you,” your voice was so sweet as you removed your hand from where it was entangled with Armitage’s in his lap. Hux took this as a cue to drop his other hand that was encasing yours on his cheek. He expected you to pull away from him and stand, but instead you leaned toward him again. With deft fingers, you brushed the errant strands of hair from his face and tucked them away. Curling your sleeves over your fingers, you gently mopped up the tear tracks lingering on his face.

“See? Good as new,” you whispered as you leaned back to admire your work. Hux huffed a small almost-laugh. He knew he was still a complete mess, but if you were pleased, who was he to argue?

“Can you stand?” you asked after a moment. Armitage tried to get a grip on his body, to sense his limbs and see if they had enough strength left to pull him from the ground. There was very little left in him at all, just a deep ache in his bones. But also a growing warmth in his chest as the last of his tears finally cleared and he was able to take relatively stable breaths again. You were still here. You had stayed. You said you… cared about him.

“After all these… incidents… you’re going to think it’s a miracle that I can ever stand upright at all.” He hoped his tone came across as light and joking. He must have succeeded at least a little, since you offered him a cheery giggle in response. It was enough to cause a small smile to pull at the corners of his own lips. 

“Apparently only when I’m around,” you teased back, the hidden laughter in your voice almost infectious.

“I suppose you do have a powerful effect on me.” Armitage swallowed. He tried to keep the joking lightness in his voice, but the terrifying honesty of his words might have scared it all away.

“A good effect, I hope?” He saw you walking the same line with your question, precariously poised between lightheartedness and sincere hope.

“A very good effect.” His voice came out as barely a whisper, any teasing undercurrent gone. But he knew you had heard. Your smile widened and you leaned forward conspiratorially.

“You have a pretty powerful effect on me as well, Armitage,” you whispered, eyes sparkling. Hux struggled for air for a moment. He couldn’t imagine what kind of effect he could possibly have on you – except that of being the most pathetic spectacle you had ever seen – but it caused an excited little catch in his breath to hear you say it nonetheless. You offered him your hand then, and he took it gratefully. Rising slowly, you guided him upwards, your other arm ghosting over him, hovering just inches away in case he should collapse again. He was shaky still, but much to his relief, he didn’t stumble. 

He let you guide him, not really caring where he was going so long as it meant you were close to him, holding his hand. When you stopped and motioned for him to sit, he realized you had delivered him to his sleeping area, and that he was now seated on the edge of his bed. He felt a little rush of embarrassment raise the heat in his cheeks, but at least he spent so little time in this space that he hadn’t been able to make a complete mess of it. That was one small victory. You seemed to make sure he would stay sitting before turning to exit the room. Panic flashed through him like lightning, making the question jump from his mouth.

“Are you leaving?” As much as he wished it had been a casual inquiry, he knew the words had trembled. Not that he would blame you if you were. You had certainly gone above and beyond the call of duty. Far beyond. He had no reason to assume you would stay, despite how ardently he wished that you would. You turned instantly. 

“I’m just going to get you some tea,” you reassured him from the doorway, “I’ll be right back.”

Oh. You weren’t leaving. You were coming right back. With tea. Armitage’s mind struggled to comprehend. He had almost fully processed the fact that you actually weren’t leaving when you reappeared with a steaming mug. You pressed it into his hands. Wrapping his fingers around the warm cup, he raised it to his lips. Somehow he had expected the familiar, bitter bite of tarine, but this was something entirely different. It was faintly floral with a warm, herbal undercurrent. And a little swirl of something faintly sweet.

“What did you put in this?” It wasn’t a sweetener he recognized. Whatever it was had a much deeper, more natural sweetness than the standard fare on Star Destroyers. “It’s good – I just don’t recognize it…” he hurried to add, not wanting you to think he didn’t like it. You could have given him a cup of bolts and oil and he probably would have sipped it happily.

“Honey, from my secret stash,” you offered him a little lopsided smile, “it’s an old trick.”

“A trick for what?”

“To help you fall asleep.” Hux’s eyes shot wide open at your words. Sleep? He didn’t have time for sleep!

“Thank you, but I— No—no I have—I have to work.” He started to push himself up from the bed with his free arm. Your hand placed lightly against his chest stopped him in his tracks. If he thought he had had difficulty regulating his cardiovascular system around you in the past, this was something else entirely. The soft press of your touch over his lungs – over his heart – was wreaking havoc on him. Had anyone ever touched him there so gently? He remembered a constellation of bruises over the ridges of his ribs, courtesy of this father’s boot, and much worse beyond that which he didn’t dare to call to mind for fear of breaking apart again. But never anything soft. Never anything good. Not until now.

“Armitage, you need to sleep,” you entreated him, eyes wide and pleading. He looked down to where your hand was pressing a warm sunburst against his chest.

“I need— I have so much work to do.” He was breathless, the words barely ghosts of themselves.

“You need rest, too,” you reminded him gently. He allowed the soft press of your hand to guide him back to a sitting position on his mattress. You knelt before him then, eyes glowing in the starlight that streamed in through the window behind him. He gripped at his sheets to keep himself upright. 

“Maybe this is selfish of me,” you said, just the faintest hint of teasing in your tone as you lifted your hand from his chest. Armitage fell forward just slightly, trying to follow the receding path of your touch. “But the thing is… I really need you to not work yourself to the point of collapse, because I have a date with you in just a few cycles, and I’m really looking forward to it.” It took him an embarrassingly long moment to start breathing normally again and to process the meaning of your words. 

“Really?” He could feel his brows furrow, incredulous that you were still looking forward to seeing him again after… this.

“Really,” you promised. Happiness bloomed in his chest before he remembered what you were asking of him. He heaved a sigh of defeat and buried his head in his free hand.

“I can’t,” he muttered.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t sleep,” he clarified. “I’ve never… I’ve never been able to.” With that admission of failure, he uncovered his face only to see your expression crumple slightly with worry. 

“Why?” The word was almost inaudible, laced with concern. 

“I don’t know.” He shrugged slightly. “Always too much to be doing, too much to think about.” Too much to fear, he added silently. He had slept with a knife under his pillow since he was five. 

“Would you try? For me?” Kriff, with you looking up at him like that, he would try anything. 

“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.” That seemed to reassure you enough that some of the concern slid from your face.

“How about this: finish your tea, then try to sleep for an hour. If you’re still awake after that, you can work.” Kriff, he really didn’t deserve you.

“That I can do,” he agreed. You beamed at him.

“I’ll just be in the other room,” you told him as you stood, “call me if you need anything.” Then you disappeared through the doorway. 

Hux looked down at the tea you had made for a long moment before drinking the last of it, just as he had promised. Setting the cup on his bedside table, he pulled himself under the sheets. Maybe you were right; his whole body ached, and as soon as his tired limbs felt the soft support of the mattress beneath them, they began unspooling the deeply wound tension from his muscles. It had been a long time since he had felt this tired and had actually let himself try to sleep. He attempted to start puzzling through the last of the necessary calculations, but there was nothing left in his body or mind. The only thing that remained in those moments as he began to drift off was the warm, humming memory of you. He imagined he could almost hear your breathing from the next room. He tried matching the rise and fall of his chest to yours. He dreamed of streaming daylight.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

First Order Poe Dameron (+ some NSFW) headcanons

General Poe Dameron, the former ace of the Resistance, good guy turned bad guy, doesn't abuse his power like others in his position, he uses logic, patience and psychological warfare with his enemies.

Poe joined the First Order after slowly realizing the Resistance couldn't defeat them, even with all the heroes in it. He experienced the same with the New Republic before joining the Resistance. He knew, especially their lazieness, that's why he joined the Resistance. Now he joined the First Order in hoping to finally bring order.

Poe had spilled every information about the Resistance, and after he heard what he will receive for it, he got greedy and gladly shared the top secret stuff. In return he was promoted to a General and got his own fleet with his own Star Destroyer as Flagship.

Poe will mind probe the prisoners, then either getting them locked up or erasing their minds and dropping them off.

If Poe has you captured, and you were a close friend to him back in the day, he will keep you on his ship. Would offer you joining the First Order. If you refuse, don't think you're free, he will keep you with him, joining or not.

There's a 50/50 chance between having you imprisoned inside a cell and having you with him in his quarters. If it is the latter, there will be a Protocol droid keeping watch on you and Stormtroopers guarding the door.

Poe is mostly still the same as he was in the Resistance, only a bit more strict, demanding and showing little mercy to prisoners.

Poe is now 100% more possessive. Will not let you go, only letting you leave his Star Destroyer with either him or his most loyal Stormtroopers.

Poe will treat you more like a prize, being cocky and demanding with you.

First Order Poe is 100% dom in bed, he has fear kink, glove kink, blaster kink, and size-kink.

In sex, Poe likes teasing you with his fingers, edging you until you can't take it anymore and then overstimulating you with his cock. Though he mostly prefers a straight up fuck.

Now Poe likes your fear, so if you try to escape, and he captures you again, he will punish you with overstimulation and whisper threats into your ear until you're a begging mess.

If you tried escaping and end up surrounded by his Stormtroopers, your wrists cuffed behind your back and on your knees, Poe will get hard at the sight.

But Poe isn't pure evil, no. If you accept joining the First Order, he will actually use his power to protect you and give you everything he couldn't at the time in the Resistance.

Poe will most likely get rid of General Hux because of his incompetence and making the First Order look weak.

He would keep Captain Phasma. He likes the way she leads the troops.

If the Supreme Leader planned another superweapon-construction, Poe will gladly test it.

If you join him he will give you a position as a pilot in his fleet.

Don't worry, he can be sweet if he wants to, he actually prefers it before doing something with you.

Overall he is more demanding, he loves the power he has now.

Poe hates Kylo Ren, he thinks Ren is a whiny man with anger issues, not being worth of being in the First Order.

Poe is a very competent General, he knows the Resistance, making it easier for him to fight them.

Poe has the tendency of taking what he wants and if someone threatens him or won't give him what he wants, he threatens to show up with his fleet and orbital bombard the planet with his ships.

Won't hesistate putting you in your place. In fact he quite likes it when you act up or disobey so he can do it.

[nosecrinklewrites]

HUX is a professional sugar baby. sort of. he grew up with generational wealth, but the second he was out of the house, his father cut him off. hux found himself stuck at a prestigious college, that his father pushed him to apply to (out of state, of course), with barely a cent to his name. which is how the sugar baby business came about.

(it's a long story, but hux doesn't like to dwell on it.)

hux quickly found out that the kind of money he needed, to keep his lifestyle going, wasn't available through normal means. he also found that juggling one, two, three, four sugar daddies on top of his studies, was infinitely more managable, than a full time job.

the sex work is alright. he does a lot of things he doesn't find arousing in the least, but he's good at it. it is what it is.

hux is most of the way through his master's, when he gets a new sugar daddy. he's getting used to aging out. a lot of daddies want a very particular thing and hux doesn't always fit the bill. finding a replacement is tedious, but not difficult.

his new sugar daddy goes by Daddy. hux doesn't know his name, doesn't meet him face to face. it's alright, hux knows anonymity is part of it, for some people.

from the start, daddy is different. he doesn't ask for much. barely anything, actually. he wants to know what hux spends the money on. sometimes he asks for a tasteful nude (no identifying features necessary). he asks for phone calls sometimes. always late at night. hux prepares himself for phone sex, but daddy never asks for that. daddy asks him to talk about his day and daddy will just hum in acknowledgement. when the topic is exhausted, he thanks hux for his time and hangs up. hux wakes up to a new deposit in his bank account.

daddy is more generous than every daddy who came before him. so much so, hux doesn't need additional arangements. daddy is enough on his own. putting all his eggs in one basket is dangerous, so hux doesn't — but he could.

daddy requires so much less work, hux suddenly has a ton of free time on his hands. hux expects daddy to pull out of the arrangement any day. it is simply too good to be true.

but daddy never does.

hux waits until after he graduates. the day before he starts at his new job, he asks daddy about it on the phone. if daddy ends the arrangement, hux can cover his own expenses (well, the basic ones, he could never cover the fun expenses on his own). daddy laughs at the question. says he has more money than he knows what to do with. says he's an heir, but doesn't elaborate. most of the money seems to come from his parents. daddy doesn't think his parents would like to know their money is being thrown at pretty boys.

the arrangement continues.

hux pushes back more than he did before. daddy isn't in charge of his safety anymore, so he can afford to risk it. hux didn't know it could be this fun. he plays around. sends unprompted photos. daddy loves when hux spends his money on silly things. especially fine clothes and shoes.

hux is perfectly happy with their arrangement. with his new job, he doesn't have time for relationships, but daddy covers everything hux could possibly want — except sex. daddy asks for photos of certain things, but it's never something they do together. which is fine. hux has spent too much of his twenties fucking old men. and it's nothing he can't fix with a bit of imagination and his own two hands.

hux is nothing more than an underling at work, but he shows promise and is invited to an event. something the board puts on every year, to scope out who to root for. hux doesn't expect anything to come of it. he's already scoped out all the important people at the firm, and has been sucking up for months.

hux hears daddy's voice across the room. hux doesn't know what he looks like, but he knows daddy's voice.

daddy is on the board.

daddy is young.

daddy is in the same room as him.

daddy paid for everything hux is wearing.

at first, hux has a sinking feeling. what if daddy is the reason hux got this job? but it can't be. daddy isn't searching the room. daddy is standing around, looking bored, but daddy isn't looking for him. hux has sent him so many photos over the years, daddy must know what he looks like.

the moment hux knows for sure, is when they're introduced. daddy looks at him with surprise. they shake hands, exchange names. the only thing on hux's mind, is how strong daddy's hands are. how handsome he is.

daddy only has eyes for hux. every time the other board members try to talk to him, he waves them off. hux is positive he makes an absolute ass out of himself. never did he think he would actually meet daddy.

kylo. daddy's name is kylo.

hux can't even begin to imagine what his colleagues are thinking. what his boss is thinking. his daddy being on the board doesn't ensure hux's safety. hell, he never asked if he's daddy's only baby.

hux doesn't remember a thing from the entire night. one moment they're at the event, the next he's sitting in daddy's sports car (it's so low to the ground, hux has to crawl inside, it's amazing). daddy is beyond respectful. he drives hux home and asks hux out on a date. a proper sit down dinner, at the most expensive restaurant in the city.

hux is flabbergasted. he kisses daddy, right there in the car. demands that daddy comes with him, up into his (very) modest apartment, and doesn't leave until hux knows what he tastes like in the back of his throat.

[not-so-allegiant-general]

 It’s meeting the Strakiller time! Let’s welcome Poe Dameron in today’s part!

 Previous parts: MEETING 1| MEETING 2 |MEETING 3

POE DAMERON

The pills did help him sleep through the nights. It was almost disturbing. And he kept this ridiculous eating schedule because there was nothing better to do. And yes, well .. The guard was annoying.

"Hey Hugs!"

"Why? Why did you volunteer Dameron? Give me one reason" Poe chuckled while putting a nutrition shake and ration bar on the table.

"To torment you of course."

"Of course." Poe smiled and sat down in the chair.

"To be honest.” he started slowly. “You saved my life. I still don't know why. It's not changing much for your case, as you exterminated the whole planetary system but... Well, I would be dead, and Fin, and Rey probably, and... Ah well lots of people, right... And I just wanted to see you."

"For what?"

"I don't know. Really. And now we are condemned to each other." he said cheerfully.

"What a wonderful plan General Dameron. Exceptional. " Hux sneered, grabbing his bar. Poe cleared his throat.

"It's actually... Colonel, now." Hux blinked trying very hard to keep his composure. " Kriff you, laugh already. I know. Everyone is laughing at me. I am pffasking army disaster."

Hux smiled, biting his lip and looking at Dameron. But he didn't laugh. He pressed his back to the wall.

"Why did they demote you?" Poe sighed and shrugged. 

"Per usual I guess. Not following orders, not keeping my mouth shut when I should have, not listening to superiors."

" No.” Hux smiled “ Who did you pissed off?" Poe rolled his eyes.

" One of the Admirals. I...objected to his order. I guess..."

"You guess? What order?"

"I shouldn't speak to you about this Hugs. It's… you are a prisoner."

"Indeed. What damage can you do by telling me that? I guess you didn't tell anybody else because they killed the mood with their laughter. So-called friends right ?" Poe crossed his arms looking at him.

"He... they, an RR Army. The Senate has them, us, to claim some of the FO mines and shut them for good. The point is these mines they want to shut... "

"Are the only source of income for people working there on their home planets. They want to shut them, but they are not offering alternatives, aren't they? Just close them for the good image of freeing people but not helping them at all. " Poe dropped his eyes to the ground and nodded. " Seems like you just said the truth straight into their eyes and someone didn’t like it.” He glanced at his ration bar. " And you know what will be next right? Upset and angry people. Riots. Mutinies. Battles. And they will send you there." He murmured looking at Poe

"If you are trying to prove that the FO..."

"I am not trying to prove anything. We lost, First Order was eaten by corruption and Snoke, and all this dark side nonsense. It had to go. I just..." Hux sighed and shook his head "Alright... I guess I am just trying to tell you that you are too much of a good man for this job" Poe snorted amused " They will send you there. And you will have to shoot people that are fighting for their rights." Poe shook his head and stood up pacing the room. 

"There has to be a way to stop this."

"You know where this idealism will lead you? To the courtroom."

"Shit, you are good at talking.” He froze looking at the redhead. “I think I have to go. Otherwise, you will talk me into believing that you are not that awful"

"Oh, I am not that bad, for a genocide that is."

"Oh yes thank you for that, Hux." He sighed, covering his face with hands and sat down. Hux was looking at him and sighed.

" Aren't you a rebel Dameron? Do I have to tell you what to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well? Your saint republic is not working as it should. Start rebelling."

"Alone?" Hux snorted.

"I can guarantee that there are plenty of people not pleased with this"

"They will... Throw me out of the army."

"I was under the impression that the army is not really at the top of the list of your priorities. It's this or not looking in the mirror anytime soon."

"Can you...? Look in the mirror?"

"Oh yes. I can. Without any problem" he answered. "Looking is not much of a problem itself. The problem is what is staring back at you." Poe glanced at him. 

“And what is staring back at you, Hux?”Armitage sighed, eating his ration bar. He never had a problem with mirrors. Or... Maybe more correct would be to say that he had it since childhood. Because every time he looked in a mirror, Brendol Hux stared back. He put down a wrapper. 

“A monster.” he said, looking at the pilot.

Next part: MEETING 4

[armitagehuxsleepschedule]

what about some hux headcanons that didn’t make the cut for top three?? i absolutely ADORE your hux thoughts and i was truly like eating those up!! if you have time/feel inclined, i’d love to hear more!

anon, whoever u are, thank u for giving me excuses to ramble. i am having so much fun 🙏

some more assorted headcanons:

he designed a lot of ships and weapons before the first order actually had the means to build anything. by the time they secured their contract with kuat-entralla, hux already had a fuckton of plans to throw at them.

on the topic of kuat-entralla, hux helped secure the early first order's contract with them a couple years before the order was officially consolidated (so he would have been in his late teens). most of the negotiation was done by sloane and quinn, but hux got involved too because so much of the plans the first order had by that point were his. his involvement in this deal was controversial within the first order for the usual reasons.

in the days before the first order officially formed, there was a lot of discourse within the fleet on whether they were still the imperial armed forces who never conceded the civil war, or whether they were a new thing entirely. as a teenager hux was a pretty big-name political activist in favor of the "first order movement" (well, "big-name" within the fleet. outside of this proto-FO you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who'd ever heard of him.)

hux succeeded general quinn as chief of engineers. nobody knows what convinced quinn to step down for hux. theories range from "sloane made him do it" to "kuat-entralla execs made him do it" to "hux blackmailed him" to "hux put a gun to his head" to "they were having sex" and plenty of other conspiracy theories. the official story always remained that quinn stepped down willingly because he realized that hux would do a better job, but you can probably count the amount of people who really believe that on one hand.

"having a home planet" was sort of a national dream for the first order for a long time. starkiller base was supposed to be that planet. but by the time they were stationing people there full-time, hux had already been living in space for too long, including pretty much all his formative years, and living on ilum for too long at a time risked putting too much stress on his heart. he had to alternate between living on the base and living on the finalizer as a compromise. publically he played this off as a decision he made willingly with zero medical reason whatsoever, but secretly he was really upset about it. he has a lot of conflicting feelings about whether to be proud of his space-dwelling culture or whether to feel like the civil war stole his chance at having a home the way most humans—most beings, actually—would think of "a home."

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

since u were talking about favorite domhnall looks 👀 that one scene of him as hux where he has blood on his face 👀👀👀

Ok this scene. He looks delicious!! I mean, SIR. You’re bleeding…let me just get that for you.

But also this scene makes me so angry on his behalf. More under the cut. Mentions of child abuse.

I hate Snoke. I hate what he does this man, reducing him to such a state of vulnerability in front of his entire crew?? No. Not ok.

Not after what Armitage went through as a child, not after the pain, the isolation, the outright cruelty he suffered.

You can see the shock on his face, because his father is dead, Admiral Brooks is dead and we can assume some other Generals that witnessed his humiliation are held back for the Final Order or dead or just away from Hux. So he assumes, he’s at the top of his game, he’s got one more step to take and then with one simple move he’s right back to when he was a child.

Feeling the ringing in his ears, the taste of blood in his mouth, the pain as it makes his eyes lose focus. In that moment he’s a child once more at the mercy of a powerful and ugly natured man and my heart breaks for him.

But still he redeems himself. He fights back because he’s not stupid. He has a decent card up his sleeve he’s been waiting to reveal for this exact moment and I am so so proud of him.

This man will forever be my husband. As a fellow childhood trauma survivor I probably relate to him in ways others might not understand.

I’m a Hux apologist. I will die on this hill.