robinhess:

We always loved confrontation among both of them but The Last Jedi was like “You want more rivalry? Nope.” So…

MAY THE HEADCANONS BE WITH YOU!

Hux is holding the vibrosword from pure cortosis, which is his family heirloom. Pure cortosis swords are extremly rare and expensive. Such sword is the only thing able to resist lightsaber, and pure cortosis sword could even short out a lightsaber for a short period of time.

“You shouldn’t have thrown me with Force, Ren”

— 

Support my art on Patreon ❤ The link is in the description —

hydrajen:

“Classic Destiny,” my piece for the Kylux Anthology project. This is a limited-edition 11″x17″ poster print, only 60 exist. They are all numbered and signed on the back.

Seeing as I recently lost my day job, and the holidays are coming up, I decided this was a good time to post this print in my shop (it hadn’t been posted on any of my social media either, till now). A portion of the proceeds will also be donated to Sarah’s Circle, a womens’ shelter local to me in Chicago ❤

I hope you all love it! Thank you ❤

“And we have done those things which we ought not to have done; And there is no health in us.”

stardestroyervigilance:

kyluxcantina:

Please reblog with your response to the above prompt, or submit your response to the kylux cantina!

Hux was
startled momentarily by a sudden ping on his holocron. He sighed heavily and
limped towards his desk, still unsteady on his new prosthetic foot. He dropped
himself onto his desk chair and leaned over to grab his holocron, the weight of
it heavy in his hands.

“General
Hux speaking.”

The
following response was coated in a light layer of static. “Sir, Commandant Ren’s
shuttle has just docked in landing bay fourteen.”

Ah, Ren had
returned finally. He’d been gone for weeks and the mission to D’Qar was only
supposed to be a quick two day long attack. Hux didn’t want to say that he’d
necessarily been worried, no, nothing quite so simple as that, he’d just been…
anxious. Anxious for a response from Ren on his success.

“Thank you Lieutenant.”

“Shall I
alert him of your arrival, sir?” The Lieutenant (Moors, Hux thought, though he couldn’t be sure) said.

Hux shook
his head out of habit despite knowing there was no visual to the holocron. “That
won’t be necessary. He knows where to find me.”

There was a
pause before the Lieutenant spoke. “Very well, sir.”

Hux pressed
the end call button on his holo, throwing it back down onto his desk. His leg
ached, the phantom pain from his missing left foot a prickly annoyance. He rubbed
at the spot, but felt no alleviation of his discomfort.

“Thrilled
to see me, I see.”

Hux’s heart
jumped at the voice. He knew that familiar deep crackle.

“Ren,” he
said, “It’s about time you showed up.”

Ren stood
by the doorway, tall and imposing, his mask still firmly on his head. His hood
was down, and the fabric was patterned with dark, coppery spots that certainly
hadn’t been there when he had left and looked suspiciously like blood stains.

“I know you
won’t write a report even if I asked you to so I’ll ask now – how did the
mission go?” Hux said, swinging around on his chair to face Ren. His leg was stretched
out in front of him, the pain still enough to be frustrating.

Ren stalked
closer, moving to sit on the corner of the desk by Hux’s side. There was a time
he would have scolded Ren for sitting on something that wasn’t explicitly a
chair but this time he found himself not all that bothered by it.

“She wasn’t
there.”

Hux’s
interest was piqued. “Who?”

“General
Organa,” Ren clarified, the name exiting his mouth as though he was spitting
poison, “My mother.”

Hux nodded.
“I’m familiar. Do you know why not?”

Ren huffed,
the sound bordering on a growl. “The base has moved. All that remained on D’Qar
were the few who were left to make sure nothing was left behind.”

Damn. That
wasn’t pleasant news. The D’Qar base moving now meant the First Order had no
idea where the Resistance ran its operations from now. That was rather
annoying. It was one of the few advantages they’d had and now it had been taken
from them. Hux’s brows furrowed at the thought.

“How many
were left?” Hux asked.

Ren waved
his hand dismissively. “Fifty or so,” he droned, “Doesn’t matter. I killed all
of them.”

“Personally?”

Ren looked
at him, his expression still hidden behind the mask. He scoffed. “Of course.”

Hux smiled,
the expression awkward and filled with teeth. “Good.” Hux paused, biting his
lip. “You know, I’m quite proud of you.”

Ren’s head
tilted. “Oh?”

“You’ve
done exceptionally well lately,” Hux praised, “D’Qar notwithstanding.”

Ren sat
taller, practically glowing with the compliment. Hux loved this. Kind words had
such an effect on Ren and he loved seeing his Knight preen beneath them.

“The
Supreme Leader is wise in his guidance,” Ren said, “He has made me powerful.”

Hux barely
resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He stood, pressing his weight primarily
onto his right foot, still distrustful of his new prosthetic. He situated
himself close to Ren, slipping himself between the knight’s open legs. He
pressed a hand to the side of Ren’s metal mask, the plate cold beneath his
fingers.

“It’s not
the Supreme Leader I have pride for, Ren,” Hux said, bringing his other hand to
sit opposite his other on the mask. “It is not his power that is winning me
battles.”

Hux’s
fingers trailed to the underside of Ren’s mask, moving in search of the clasps
that kept the mask closed. He found the lock and pressed down, hearing the hiss
of the pressure being released. Hux pulled up, slipping the mask over Ren’s
head and dropped the heavy thing down onto his desk with a thud.

He turned
back to Ren, looking directly into his eyes. There was some hair that had
fallen into them, but nothing could hide the sickly yellow of the iris within
Ren’s eyes.

“See,” Hux
mused, running a finger along the veiny, blacked skin along Ren’s cheek, “Power
has made you beautiful. Everyone can see that.”

Ren said
nothing, only blinked, his mouth pulled into a self-regarding smile. The dark
side had changed Ren and Hux found himself intoxicated by it. He loved Ren’s
yellow eyes, the heavy bags under his eyes, the dark markings by his cheeks and
along his lips. His lips took a purple tint and he was much paler than he used
to be, too, his skin a sickly white. All of this was the physical manifestation
of the power kept deep within Ren. And it was all Hux’s to command and to use.
Ren was his.

Feeling
overwhelmed Hux pressed his lips to Ren’s, forceful and quick. Ren’s lips were
ice cold, something Hux found himself getting more and more used to. He pulled
away swiftly, not wishing to get too lost within Ren – which he knew he would
if he allowed himself any more time on his lips. Ren followed him as he pulled
away instinctually, clearly having hoped for their embrace to have lasted
longer.

Ren
shifted, knocking Hux’s leg and forcing him to press his weight down onto his
prosthetic leg. He winced at the sensation, still unused to the press of it against
his knee.

Ren’s eyes
flicked down for a moment. ”It bothers you.”

Hux
shrugged, turning away quickly. “It could be worse.”

Ren hummed
in agreement. “You could be dead.”

“Blunt,”
Hux replied.

Ren’s lips
were pulled into a roguish grin. “I’m not wrong.”

“No,” Hux conceded,
“No, you’re not.”

“I killed
him, you know,” Ren said, “The scum that did that. That blew your leg off. He
was still at D’Qar. One they left behind.”

Hux
smirked. “I hope he died screaming.”

“He did. I
made sure of it. I spent a long time on him. I made sure his end was slow and
painful,” Ren paused for a moment, his gaze intense. “I brought you his skull.
It’s on the ship.”

Hux felt as
though the wind had been knocked out of him with that statement. He couldn’t
have been more pleased. His mouth was agape, he knew he must look ridiculous. “Stars,”
he breathed, “I love you.”

Ren’s
laughed, the sound deep and raspy, sounding as though he’d smoked deathsticks his whole
life.

“I know.”