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sweetrevxnge · 1 year

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Ghosts In The Snow

Chapter One

Pairing: Vampire!Kylo Ren x Reader AU

Summary: Six long years had passed under the reign of the First Order. The bitter winters grew longer, and as they did, hope faded from the hearts of the citizens of Hosnian Prime. As a lieutenant in the Resistance cavalry, it was your duty to nurture that ember of hope. After a mission takes an unexpected turn, you are taken prisoner by a commander in the First Order, a mysterious man with an insatiable appetite—for violence, power, and you. In the coming days, you must keep the spark of your own hope alive from the dark confines of the Commander's castle.

Warnings: sexual content, violence, blood kink, gore, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Chapter II

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Happy Halloween!!! I wanted to share the first chapter of the medieval/vampire AU fic that I've been working on for the past few months. Basically, I rewatched Game of Thrones and Castlevania and set out to write a Kylo Ren AU related to both. And what better time to start uploading it than Halloween!! My primary focus is still finishing Like Phantoms, Forever, but my goal is to continue working on and uploading this story as well. Let me know what you think of it!

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Icy wind burned your eyes as you rode under the moonless sky. Sparse trees passed by as your steed marched along the dark path, treading through the thick blanket of snow that covered the forest floor. Around you, delicate snowflakes floated down from the heavens, catching on the limbs of towering pines and landing on your cheeks, only to melt on your warm skin.

There was something hauntingly beautiful about this weather, with storm clouds draping the inky sky like a wool cloak, snuffing out the cool light of the moon and her stars. In the winter, nights like these were familiar. But not tonight.

This night was bitterly cold, the type of cold that even the thickest furs couldn’t warm. Now, after hours of trekking through the forest, you resented Commander Dameron’s decision for the squadron to not wear helmets. In theory, it seemed like the best way to increase visibility in the midnight hour. But now, with chattering teeth and a visibility of less than a few meters, you were less than pleased.

Commander Dameron had left his helmet behind at the base as well. Although, it was less of a rare occurrence for him. He seldom wore a full suit of armor, which under any other circumstance could be attributed to a plethora of reasons. Pride, confidence, or his incessant need to make his enemy aware that he was being slain by a more handsome man than he. Regardless of his reasoning, you didn’t outwardly oppose the Commander’s decision. If there was one thing you had learned during your time in the Resistance, it was to never question your commander, even over something as frivolous as a helmet. His orders came directly from the General, which meant regardless of your opinion on the matter, his discretion was final. General Organa was a pragmatic woman, and after six years of serving her, she had yet to lead you astray. You expected that tonight would be no different.

Covert operations were nothing new to you, having taken part in over a dozen successful missions before. Even when things became precarious, you were able to keep your wits about you and get your men out in one piece. It was for this reason that the General trusted you with the most sensitive missions, like tonight’s.

As you neared the location of the reported First Order encampment, trepidation rolled through your stomach. There was something uncomfortable about these woods, more than the typical unease of marching into the unknown, or the prospect of losing your men in a bloodbath. The forest felt suffocating, as if you were being swallowed by the trees the further you rode. Perhaps it was the moonless sky causing your skin to crawl, or the eerie silence that surrounded you.

In front of you, Commander Dameron was barely visible through the heavy snowfall, and further away than you would have liked him to be. But then again, that was how he typically operated.

His daring attitude and hunger for battle were just a few of your favorite qualities of his, with his striking good looks and razor-sharp wit following closely behind. He was a natural leader, often utilizing every quality in his arsenal to earn cooperation from his soldiers, including yourself.

The two of you worked well together, sharing a chemistry both in leadership and out in the field. Thanks to his effortless charisma and affinity for your presence, you had been his loyal right-hand for many years. The General could always rely on your squadron to extract the intelligence she needed, or defeat any amount of stormtroopers that impeded her cause.

For six long years, the sovereign state of Hosnian Prime had been plagued by war, its people forced to bend the knee to the usurper First Order or lose their head. While many citizens chose to submit their will, there were those who refused to comply, who sacrificed everything for liberty. The Resistance was born from their bravery, their determination to fight for what was just. It was their emblem that you wore proudly on your armor, the same emblem that inspired hope in the downtrodden and oppressed throughout the world.

The moment Vice Chancellor Snoke flaunted the severed head of Chancellor Villecham to the people of Republic City, you knew that fighting this war was your only option if you wanted to save your home. The carnage that ensued in the city square was nothing short of pure evil and to this day, despite the brutality you had since witnessed and partaken in, still made your stomach churn. In the days that followed, Snoke led vicious attacks on the remaining New Republic officials, with word of his violence reaching you and the other fugitives not long after. The destruction of Hosnian Prime’s liberty was the catalyst for your enlistment in the Resistance, and remained as the motivation to end this civil war.

You tried not to dwell much on that horrific day, but it was difficult to avoid on long rides like this, finding that your mind would often drift there when you were riding towards an imminent battle. The tight secrecy of this operation was unsettling, but what little information you did know was repeating ceaselessly in your head.

The purpose of this mission was to ambush a suspected First Order camp, one that was said to be housing a handful of its leading officers. By all accounts, it was meant to be a fairly typical intelligence extraction and execution, except there would be no execution, as the General had placed a strict defense-only order on this mission, meaning you were not to strike an attack unless it was a defensive measure. Such an order left much to be answered, but from what you knew of war, it likely meant that General Organa couldn’t afford to lose the men. It also meant that whichever First Order officials were residing at this camp were not vital to its operation, for if they were, the next sunrise they would see would be from the top of wooden spikes.

The General’s briefing was not unlike many of her others. It was short and eloquent as always, but by the end of it, she was practically ordering the group out of the room, rather than her usual dismissal of telling everyone to get back to work. You, along with every other person involved in this operation, were left confused by her behavior, left to your imagination to fill in the gaps. It wasn’t long before gossip began to spread throughout the unit.

A misstep from your horse pulled you back to the present, prompting you to soothe her fright before she could make too much noise. It was imperative to the success of this ambush that none of your men—or their horses—made a sound.

After a few strokes down her spine and quiet, reassuring whispers, her pace steadied. You looked ahead for the signal from Commander Dameron that you were approaching the encampment, but in the hazy clearing, his presence had been reduced to a set of tracks left into the snow.

The festering dread in your gut became unbearable as you continued to trudge through the dark foliage, debating whether or not it would be appropriate to catch up to Commander Dameron and share your concerns. You could only imagine the lecture you would receive from the General if you strayed from the plan in any manner, but at the same time, you trusted your instinct. Something didn’t feel right.

The crunch of snow beneath hooves and the light rattle of armor were the only sounds that filled the air. That was until a scream pierced the night air, sending a chill colder than the snow down your spine.

Panic rose in your chest as your horse reared off the ground and spun wildly, frightened beyond your control. You tried to orient yourself in the darkness, scanning the white haze for your men, as well as your commander.

Another scream followed shortly after, along with a string of cries from the soldier’s horse. One final wail sliced through the air like a banshee cry, full of agony, before the world fell silent.

There was someone else—or something else—in these woods.

The soldiers behind you erupted in a cacophony of confusion, worry, and pleas to the gods for mercy. You steered your horse away from them, more concerned with Commander Dameron’s safety than theirs. As terrible as it seemed, soldiers were expendable, leadership was not. Besides, if you fell back to help them, your fate would be the same as theirs—bloody and mangled.

More anguished cries rang throughout the dark woods, following you as you rushed forward, whipping the reins to keep your pace.

“Commander? Commander?!” you shouted into the abyss of the night. You uttered a quiet prayer as you waited for his response.

The whisper of wind was all you received in return.

“COMMANDER!” you screamed, your throat burning from the wintry air as you cried out.

Nothing.

With bleary eyes, you continued to ride, dodging the brush and rogue branches hanging in your path. It was then that a horrible realization occurred to you. Aside from the sound of your shallow breaths and hooves stomping, the forest was utterly silent.

Your panic quickly transformed into terror. The sounds of slaughter that had been trailing you had ceased. Whatever had been hunting your men could now only be hunting you.

There was no time to waste. Adrenaline rushed through your veins as you unlatched your boots from the saddle and prepared to dismount your horse, hoping to be a smaller target on foot.

Before you could swing your leg over the saddle to jump down, an invisible blow struck the center of your chest, hurling you backwards through the air until you collided with the rough bark of a tall pine.

Bright spots filled your vision as you hit the frozen ground, gasping for air despite the ache spreading through your ribs. A high pitch rang in your ears as you pushed yourself up and staggered to your feet. The snow beneath you was stained red, and from the taste of copper in your mouth and the tender sore on your tongue, it was clear that you had bitten it during the fall.

Away from your sight, your horse neighed and reared wildly, galloping over the roots buried beneath the snow and snapping dry branches that covered her path. For a moment, you hoped that she was running towards you, that her senses would guide her back to you. But you were a fool.

The sound of ripping flesh and a final, harrowing cry from your horse resonated through the woods, followed by a heavy thud and a deafening silence.

You blinked the falling snowflakes away from your eyes as you stood there, rooted in the snow, trying to see which direction the midnight creature would attack from. Your heart was a few beats away from bursting through your chest, which would likely be a less painful death than what was to come.

The outline of a figure breached the snowfall, stalking towards you as you retreated on your heels, fueled by the adrenaline coursing through you.

As you reached for your sword, your limbs were frozen in place, as if your body had been wrapped in nonexistent restraints. Your breath caught in your throat. Resisting the energy proved futile, tiring your muscles and leaving you entirely defenseless. You watched in horror as the creature came into view.

“Was that you I heard calling for me, my dear?”

You could barely hear the question over the hammering of your pulse. The voice was low and brassy, and almost sounded amused. As it drew closer, you were surprised to find that the owner was not a bloodthirsty monster, but a man.

You lifted your chin and blinked back the tears that welled in your eyes, hoping to appear brave in the face of death.

“You certainly were difficult to catch,” he growled, stepping through the haze. “But the difficult ones always make for the best hunt.”

The man stepped into view, his dark armor a stark contrast to the backdrop of snowfall. In the drops of moonlight that spilled through the clouds, you could make out the details of his helmet—a haunting, black mask with silver ridges outlining the eye shield, gleaming in the waning light.

“What are you doing all the way up here, officer?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he raised a gloved hand to your face, his outstretched fingers nearly grazing your skin.

“I–” you began to say before you choked on your words. An excruciating pain split your skull, unlike anything you had experienced before. The sensation could only be compared to something found in nightmares, crafted in the fires of Hell for the most unabashed sinners. The tears you had fought to hold back finally spilled from your eyes, freezing as they rolled down your cheeks while the masked man rummaged through your mind.

“You’re a lieutenant,” he said quietly, his intrigue evident even through his helmet.

You didn’t try to deny his statement, all too aware that your rank was the only thing keeping you from suffering the same fate as the rest of your men.

“A woman as second-in-command…” He traced the back of his hand along your jaw, the smooth leather interrupting the stream of tears that ran from your eyes.

Slowly, he moved behind you, examining you how a butcher would inspect a lamb before the slaughter. Through the shield of his mask, you could feel his eyes roaming over you.

Acid bubbled in your throat as you stood there, helpless to the force that held you in place. The fate of your men seemed like salvation in comparison to what was likely awaiting you.

Would he take you prisoner? Would he violate you? How long would you suffer before succumbing to your inevitable fate?

Each thought piled onto the other as they raced through your head. You were grateful that he had released his grip on your mind, that your fears were known only to you.

Behind him, a handful of other men emerged from the night, standing in a tight formation behind their leader. The other parties responsible for the massacre of your men, you presumed.

“Sir, we were unable to locate the Commander,” one of the men informed him.

He moved closer behind you, pieces of his armor grazing yours. “Forget him. We have what we need.”

Before you could process his words, the energy around your limbs disappeared and you swayed, suddenly dizzy, like you had indulged in one too many glasses of wine. The edges of your vision blurred and despite wanting to kick your attacker and run as far as you could, your legs wouldn’t budge. The last thing you felt before darkness rushed in was a pair of strong arms wrapping around you as your body went slack, sealing your fate.

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srorgana1 · 9 months

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Invocation

Paring: Vampire Kylo/Hunter Rey

Warnings: Dark Themes (apporaching Dead Dove, you have been warned), Supernatural/Paranormal, Blood, Violence, Gore, Death, NSFW 18+, Sexual Content, Psychological and Physical Torture, Kidnapping, Hatred towards organized religion, Pain, Major/Minor character death/injury, Demonic Possession

Chapter One

“Another” he says as he stares out the frosted window. The goblet is quickly refilled by deft hands. He doesn’t need to look at them to know they have bowed in his direction and scampered away. He sighs as he lifts his glass, allowing the warm liquid to run down his dry throat.

He can feel it working already. The life force rejuvenating his own. He can taste their joys and fears within as he savors it like notes of a fine wine. This man got too close. Wrong place at the wrong time. He had to be taken out not to raise suspicion among the working class. It couldn’t be known he was one of the monsters they feared above all.

He sighed again, placing the empty goblet down and began to pace. He was bored. He undid his tie and placed it on the side of his desk, his phone and tablet alight with notifications and emails. He shook his head, already annoyed at himself for letting his head of household be off for a week.

He paces to the large marble fireplace, the flames warming his cold dead bones. Staring into the fire, he takes off his ring playing with it idly as he tries to think. What has he done wrong to feel this way?

The emptiness is gnawing at him like a disease. He has everything he could ever want. He has enough land and wealth that he doesn't have to lift a finger for at least another 400 years or at least until the current banking system changes again.

But therein lies the problem. If he were any other man he would be content, but his warrior blood calls for action. He can sate it with a hunt or two but it comes back even faster still. He has been stagnant for too long.

He pulls at his long raven locks in frustration. He will not let himself rot in luxury like others he knows. They sit on their various thrones of power, getting fat and lax, wholly consumed by vapid worldly pleasures. He has seen it over and over. They ascent, they indulge, they wallow, they die. Over and over again.

Lucky for those unfortunate souls, they get to move on. He is not so lucky. He was cursed to walk this plane for eternity, never able to move on - forced to watch this miserable world shift and change. He curses himself once again for being so naïve in his youth.

He hears the sound of wood cracking which pulls him from his spiraling thoughts. He looks to see his hand gripping the decorative arm of a Rococo style armchair as it splinters in his grasp.

He lets go and unclenches his other fist. The symbol of his choice and curse glints up at him, unblemished even after being assaulted by his supernatural strength. Placing the ring back on his finger, he sulks to his desk relegating himself to his fate for the evening.

He quickly sends emails and finalizes payroll as the snow falls harder. Even though his castle has all the modern luxuries, he prefers to work like in the old times. The amber light from the candles and fireplace flicker in the darkness as he ignores emails from The Council, delating them instantly. He moves onto his physical mail, surprised to see a letter from a long time associate. His eyes alight as he reads the words.

…There have been rumors within the community of a rise of another Hunter organization. AXS has claimed they have heard of similar disappearances in some of the other affiliated groups but The Council has not confirmed this, but you know how secretive they are. I fear this could be related to recent political changes and the acknowledgement of the existence of our kind…

Interesting. There hasn’t been a legit Hunter organization since the Catholic Church’s last attempt in what was it…16th or 17th century? He smiles at the memory of him and the others infiltrating and taking them down from the inside. He can hear the echoes of the screams and useless prayers as the Devil’s Elite took them out one by one.

Yes, this may be what he was searching for. One last adventure before he relegates himself to the life before him. He rings for his butler for a carafe of his finest Bordeaux as he dips his pen into the inkwell.

Vicrul,

This sounds intriguing. I will prepare to travel to assist in your investigation.

Kylo Ren

He smiles as he focuses, the paper disappearing from his hands as the butler arrives. “Call Huxley to return” he says “I have received a notice that needs attending to.” The man nods as he finishes pouring the wine. “Will do sir”. He can feel something stirring within as he takes a sip. Oh yes, this will be a grand adventure indeed.

#vampire kylo #kylo ren x rey #reylo au #reylo #vampire #vampire au #knights of ren #adam driver #kylo ren #kylo ren au #adam douglas driver #reylo smut #rey nobody #starwarsficnetwork #star wars au #Spotify

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kylosbreedingkink · 7 months

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tell me more about kylo as a vampire 👀

So they could easily have Kylo be a vampire and have it fit into canon mostly fine. Say he was off on some task for Luke at some point, had an encounter, perhaps a sexy one because vampires. The guy is into biting but hey anything turns Kylo on. Except, the guy was a vampire. And the vampirism virus well.. Sometimes, but rarely, it turns the other into a vampire. Kylo has no idea. Luke though senses it or some shit. This is why Luke went to kill him that night. Note that TRoKR is from Kylo PoV. What if these are just memories he has created for himself as his mind couldnt cope with the truth - that he himself killed all those students when his vampirism took hold? Ren too, maybe Ren had an inkling, he pushed him to see if his theory was correct. And well, it was. Ren didn't die to lightsabre. Ren died as Kylo bit his throat out. This is why the KoR are so quick to kneel before him, they saw how fucked up that was (They have no idea what vampires are, most people in the galaxy don't). Kylo still doesn't know what he is. Snoke is interested in Kylo more so now as he wants to see how much he can control him as a force sensitive vampire. Kylos paleness and sometimes that he looks very thin is related to the vampirism too. Also the fact that he's mentally unstable helps as maybe that's just when he's getting hungry for blood and has no idea why he's so hungry, just that sometimes he kills a lot of people and feels at ease after he's done that (Thinking he did it with his sabre ofc, not his own teeth) there's more really, but ye jist of it is that kylo could easily be a vampire in canon and we don't know about it as he himself has no idea either.

#kylo ren #ben solo #vampire kylo #send more asks!#asks and replies

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punk-in-docs · 1 year

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🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 (you don't have to share anything I just wanted to throw roses at you)

Well I WILL share because you are a babe and I want to throw some demon right back at ya cause I know he makes you weakkkkk- (I hope)

Draegan admires her honesty. She wielded it like a dagger. Sliced and slashed deep with meaning. Watched blood seep out after the hard punches of her words. Tongue lashes like cat-o-nine tails.

“What are you?” She asks aloud. She stops and turns to him. This demanded eye contact and brazenness.

“Because you don’t act like a vampire. And you’re certainly not anything to do with witches like me.” Leo says.

He comes clean.

“More than all those things combined.” He tells.

“More?” Her face betrays her struggle to grasp the enormity of his statement.

#punkwrites #draegan x iris vibes #draegan x kylo vibes #draegan vibes #vampire kylo #lord ren vibes #very wolves and dove #between wolves and doves #rant about wolves and doves #demon x vampire #demon x vampire x human

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aberrantcreature · 1 month

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The Count and the Maiden 🩸🦇

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gingersnappish · 1 year

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I got to do this really fun Witchy!Kylo/Vampire!Hux piece on commission from @drinkysketch....this was great fun to design and render all the effects and lighting on! Thank you, Drinky, for such a wonderful commission request!

#kylux #kylux vampires #witchy kylo ren #commission art #gingersnappishstarwarsart #gingersnappisharts #gingersnappishcommissionart

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mischievouscarnivore · 7 months

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@huxloween Day 11: Vampire

#kylux #kylux au #kylo ren #hux #general hux #armitage hux #ben solo #fanart #star wars #vampire au #my art #huxloween #huxloween2023

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itssteffnow · 7 months

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Day 11 Vampire

I loved mob boss Kylo Ren and his attack dog Hux so much, that I did a Vampire version for this years @huxloween!

Be careful, Hux's teeth are sharp, luckily Ren knows how to handle his little feral Vampire.

#huxloween2023 #kylux #huxloween #armitage hux #kylo ren #itssteffnow #Vampire!Hux #Vampire #my art

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klodwig · 1 year

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There was a mansion in the middle of a desert. Away from trade routes. Far from human settlements.

There was an old man who looked like a young man. He looked after the mansion and the guests who were there. Over the years, they became less and less.

One day he was not waiting for anyone.

He was left alone, and with him his hunger and old walls, and heavy fabrics, and gold, glorifying THEM.

He was alone, like an old root. But isn't the last leaf a continuation of the root?

He really hoped that this leaf was well hidden and safe.

There was a knock at the gate.

#art #kylux #comic #kylo ren #armitage hux #cal kestis #star wars #queen of the damned #vampire au

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safarigirlsp · 7 months

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Wicked Fairytales

My fun little series in which I give my own twisted twist on some classics.

Bah Humbug

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Kylo Ren x Reader

Charlie Barber x Reader

Clyde Logan x Reader

Henry McHenry x Reader

Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Commander Mills x Reader

Word Count: 35.4k

Warnings: NSFW. Extra Smut. Language. Angst. Romance. Graphic Violence. Murder. Main Character Death. Light Violence Against Reader. Old Timey Sexism. Bastardization of Classic Literature.

AO3 Link

Based on A Christmas Carol

A Comedy of Eros

Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: NSFW. Humor. Romance. Soulmates. Violence. Non-Con Elements. Physical Aggression Toward Reader. Possessive and Jealous Behavior. Dominant Men. Bitchy Women. Conniving Wizards. Drugging - Kids today might call it Sex Pollen. Confusion. Duplicity. Bestiality. Orgies. Cuckolding. Exhibitionism. Misogyny. Old Timey Sexism. Toxic Men. Jacques/Pierre Canon as Developed by Silky and Myself aka Shithead Behavior. Bastardization of Shakesperean Tropes. Misuse of Shakespearean Quotes, try to count them all. Fear Not, No Attempts at Ye Olde English Contained Herein. ☠️Rey☠️

Don’t let the warnings scare you! This is Romance and Comedy.

AO3 Link

Based on A Midsummer Night's Dream

Outrun the Devil

Lawyer Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 14.9k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Blood. Gore. Murder. Beheadings. Supernatural Themes. Romance.

AO3 Link

Based on The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Love & War

Regency Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: NSFW. Language. Smut. Non-Graphic Mentions of Violence and Death. Old Timey Sexism. Fluff. Romance. Humor. Stilted Language.

AO3 Link

Admiral Ren in Love

Top notes of Pride & Prejudice with undertones of Cinderella.

The Beast

Vampire Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: None! Shocking! Some light horror and sexy themes.

AO3 Link

Notes of Beauty and the Beast, Dracula, and The Raven in my best Poe-ish attempt.

Music of the Night

Victorian Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 14.4k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Graphic Violence. Fires. Guns. Murder. Old Timey Sexism. Romance. Dark Phantom of the Opera Vibes. Victorian Kylo.

AO3 Link

Based on The Phantom of the Opera

Here There Be Monsters

Pirate Captain Jacques Le Gris x Reader

Word Count: 51.4k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Action. Adventure. Romance. Light Violence. Swords. Guns. Orgies. Bar Fights. Pirate Shenanigans. Old Timey Sexism.

AO3 Link

This is the result of my love for Pirates of the Caribbean. Yes, it's a classic.

Maneater

Commander Mills x Lawyer Reader

Word Count: 37.5k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Violence. Blood. Gore. Graphic Dinosaur Violence. Enemies to Lovers. Idiots in Love. Sexism in Survival Situations. Hot Toxic Masculinity. Character Crossovers. The Commander Mills Jurassic Park AU that had to happen.

AO3 Link

Mixing two of my favorites together for a fun AU - Commander Mills and Jurassic Park! Yes, it's a classic.

Ghost Town

Gunfighter Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Word Count: 14k

AO3 Link

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Alcohol. Graphic Violence. Gun Violence. Lots of Violence. Horror Themes. Possession Themes. Supernatural Themes. Shameless References to The Shining. This is a Darker take on Flip than I usually write, but it’s Halloween!

Inspired by the Seven Deadly Sins.

Everything A Big Bad Wolf Could Want

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Fluff. Language. Chasing kink. Primal Play. If there’s such a thing as Lumberjack kink, it’s in here. Extreme bastardization of fairy tale dialogue.

AO3 Link

If I were Little Red Riding Hood...

Cinderella

Kylo Ren x Reader

HCs Only

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: NSFW. Language. Light Smut. Fluff. Happy Murder Thoughts. Humor.

Cinderella Themes.

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not-so-allegiant-general · 2 months

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Listen, listen

✨Kylux modern vampire coffee shop AU✨

Where Kylo is this savage, free vampire (you know this deadly, messy, dirty type, sleeping under the ground or under sky) with KoR as his followers.

And Hux is this classy vampire lord/count/prince who lives in a old manor that he used to live with his father (before he became a vampire and murdered him, yes ofc Rae turned him so he could defend himself )

And now.

Of course Hux is disgusted by Kylo and KoR. ( Yes he is jealous of their freedom and how shameless and bold they are, and how well they adjusted to the modern word when he constantly hide in his manor )

So one night he actually come out for a walk maybe a hunt and stepped into 24 hours coffee shop. And there is this cute, snarky barista. And first Armitage wants to feast on him. But for some reasons he did not. He just goes back there every night asking questions like... How the phone works or how to operate coffee machine and can it possibly make him blood. ( He was very upset with answer and annoyed with staring from the other customers)

And the barista, Ben Solo (the mortal alater ego of Kylo Ren, bc he kinda got bored by the eternity and decided to just try to live as a mortal once in a while) is happy to help.

He is happy to help bc well first it was amusing to observe this old ass vampire scared of a coffee machine

But then he started to find it cute, and he saw that Hux is really trying to stay in the world.

And He has heard about Hux ofc. He thought he was a jerk. And he is, but he is also hot and clearly not up to date. And Kylo wants him to be up to date, and he wants to keep seeing him, and he wants to fuck him one day, hopefully. (Hux is from generation of vampires who believe that vampires don't fuck so good luck with that Kylo)

But Yes. ✨Kylux modern vampire coffee shop AU✨

#kylux #armitage hux #kylo ren #star wars #general hux #hux #star wars fanfiction #headcanon #modern au #coffeeshop au #vampire au

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sweetrevxnge · 1 year

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Ghosts In The Snow

Chapter Five

Pairing: Vampire!Kylo Ren x Reader AU

Warnings: sexual content, violence, blood kink, gore, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 3k

Chapter-specific CW: compulsion, light emotional manipulation (but it's ok bc he's a hot vampire)

A/N: "how am I supposed to live laugh love under these conditions?" -y/n to kylo probably

───────── ❅ 🦇 ❅ ─────────

“After you, my dear.”

The threshold of the doorway was all that stood between you and the prospect of freedom. Or at least, so you thought.

Moonlight peaked through the dark clouds above, flooding the spacious courtyard Ren had brought you to with silver light. Disappointment sank through you like a stone—not that you were expecting him to loosen your invisible lead enough to allow you to roam an open area of the castle’s property. All things considered, this was generous.

Tentatively, you stepped out into the night, disregarding your lack of footwear as you followed the ivory tiles lining the path. Short, frostbitten hedges surrounded you, perfectly manicured despite their leaves being brittle and sparse. Snowflakes dusted the earth, falling like tiny, frozen kisses on your skin.

Woven throughout the foliage were dozens of rosebushes, their thorns now all that remained of their beauty. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the garden in bloom, with rays of sunlight bathing the roses until their petals unfurled, inviting bees to collect pollen from each colorful bundle. But spring had long since passed. The stems had morphed into skeletons, their wilted petals cracking under the blanket of frost. It was oddly beautiful; something that was once so vibrant, now faded and cold, preserved by winter’s embrace.

Around you stood the high walls of the castle, with elegant archways and stained windows. Everything felt venerable, even down to the footsteps immortalized in the tile from centuries of tread, aging the fortress well beyond the Empire’s rule. Judging by the weathered state of the walls encasing you, the castle was likely constructed during the Grand Republic’s reign, dating it beyond the past three hundred years. To think that there was a time when its halls had been occupied by diplomats—ones who placed the interests of the people above their own aspirations. Much like the garden, their memory had faded in the presence of the First Order.

You stopped in front of two black iron benches arranged in the center of the court. They accented the focal piece of the garden: a pond, sheathed by a layer of glistening ice. You pictured a family of ducks paddling through it in the summer, creating tiny ripples as they splashed the cool water onto their feathers. The irony of peace existing in a place of such violence.

“What do you think?” Ren asked behind you, joining you in observation of the frozen water.

Releasing a long breath, you answered bluntly, “It’s hard to say. Everything’s dead.”

He chuckled at your honesty. “Yes. But even now, there is a certain beauty to it, wouldn’t you agree?” He stepped closer, pressing his chest flush against your back, offering you no heat. There was nothing warm or soft about him. For all you knew, he was made of marble beneath the layer of black fabric—his body temperature suggesting as much.

You instinctively pulled away, turning to face him. Quick breaths passed through your lips, the wisps of vapor lingering in the air like ghosts. Ren was frightening and beautiful, making him the most dangerous kind of monster. Not the kind that mothers warned their children of through tales, hoping to deter them from venturing too far into the woods, but the kind that the ladies at court would gossip about. The handsome devil.

“From a certain point of view, I suppose,” you finally said, turning your back on him once again. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing—even if he had heard your inner dialogue earlier.

Ren walked alongside you as you continued to meander through the garden. Even the slightest brush of his arm made the hair on the back of your neck stand. Although, in fairness, the culprit could very well have been the winter air, too.

You considered making conversation with him, less because you were interested in what he had to say, but rather as a pleasantry in return for the change of scenery. When you opened your mouth to speak, you found that the words were lodged in your throat, impossible to push out. Perhaps it was the icy air burning your airway, or another force entirely. Regardless, you continued to walk in silence, sorting through your thoughts—as you suspected he was, too.

It seemed as if the tile path had transformed into shards of glass by the way your feet ached, each step sending a wave of pain through your nerves. Determined to stay outside as long as possible, you ignored it, slowing your pace to accommodate.

“You’re shivering,” Ren stated, as if you were somehow unaware of your chattering teeth.

“Yes, I know.”

“Would you like to go inside?”

You froze in place, but unlike in the forest, this was not his doing. He came to stand in front of you, tracing your face with eyes as black as obsidian.

“I doubt that decision is mine to make,” you countered. The illusion of free will—as if you weren’t trapped in this castle because of him.

“You would be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, yes, how could I forget? The man who slaughtered my entire squadron—my savior.”

His jaw tensed. “It’s not as if I was acting of my volition. I was merely protecting my men, keeping my oath. Surely that is something you can understand.”

Of course it was. But you had failed to do that, and now you would spend a lifetime being haunted by it.

“Enough,” you said, tearing your eyes away from him as you turned to face the withering garden. The frayed threads holding you together snapped, allowing the flood of emotions to pour in. As it did, you wondered if it would always be like this. Reminded of the carnage every time you laid eyes on him. Sentenced to a miserable existence with the man responsible for your nightmares.

A hand came to rest on your shoulder. You shuddered at the touch. “For what it’s worth, their deaths were wholly unnecessary.” There was a trace of remorse in his words, quickly replaced by his usual tone. “But such is the nature of war, my dear.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your tongue before you could say anything else. When you opened them again, Ren was standing in front of you, close enough to hide the moonlight behind him.

“Why did you do it?” Your voice cracked as you spoke, fighting desperately to hold back your frustration.

He furrowed his brows, confused by your question. “The Supreme Leader’s orders were clear–”

“No,” you snapped, a harsh edge replacing the weakness in your voice. “I mean, why did you capture me? How is it fair that I should be the only survivor, condemned to live out the rest of my days under your thumb?”

As soon as the words had left your mouth, you wished you could reach out and shove them back into the depths of your mind. He didn’t deserve to see you like this, brimming with raw emotion. It was a state you reserved only for those closest to you, those who you would likely never see again.

Ren was silent, stoic. In a moment like this, you wished you possessed his ability to probe minds. Instead of offering you an answer, he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone and jaw, tracing a line as light as a whisper over your skin.

Immediately, the tension in your shoulders dissolved, washed away along with every concern occupying your mind. Despite his cool touch, warmth rose to your cheeks.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that this arrangement could liberate you in ways you’ve never imagined?” His voice was silky, falling on your ears like a symphony of angels. A soft cloud settled over you, eliciting a strange feeling within your chest as you gazed up at him, searching his black eyes for an answer to his question.

“I have not, my lord,” you whispered, the words leaving your tongue like a prayer.

Ren’s lips parted, revealing brilliant white teeth as he grinned, amused by your response. “Of course not. And why should you have? Such thoughts have no place in a mind as troubled as yours.” He swept his fingers over your cheek again, soothing you.

You nodded into his hand. The cold that gnawed at your fingers and toes was nothing more than a distant sensation, an ache quelled by his touch. He glanced down at your figure, frowning at the sight of your dress. In the time that the two of you had been standing outside, a light layer of snow had melted into the thin fabric of your gown, clinging to your skin. With deft fingers, he tied the strings of your cloak into a small knot and smoothed the fabric over your shoulders.

“Now, let’s go inside. I can’t have my bride freezing to death,” he said in a low tone, leaning closer to your lips. “Next time, I advise you to wear more fitting attire.”

Next time. Intoxicated by his words, you nodded in agreement, your eyes still fixed on his.

As if you were a sack of feathers, he hoisted you off the ground, holding you as he did in the forest. Only this time, there was no fear in your heart, no panic closing off your throat. With your hands clasped behind his neck, he carried you back into the castle, moving swiftly through the courtyard. Although the taste of freedom was dwindling with every step he took, you were content—almost pleased—to be returning to the safety of your chambers.

Your head felt as light as the cushions of the chaise lounge as Ren set you down upon it. The memory of where his hands had gripped you remained after he released you, leaving your skin tingling at each spot. In the darkness, it was nearly impossible to see him moving through your chambers, an issue remedied by a fire roaring to life in the hearth.

Satisfied with his work, Ren stood behind the sofa, peering down at you laying across it. Golden flames flickered in his eyes, softening his strong features. Your cloak had shifted, exposing more of your nightwear than you would’ve preferred. But you didn’t mind. In fact, you liked it—how the sleeves had fallen past your shoulders and the hem of the dress had gathered above your knees. You felt ethereal, basking in the glow radiating from the hearth. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been this relaxed.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you relished the warmth spreading through your toes. “Who should I thank for starting this fire—you or your magic?” You made a vague gesture with your hands, wiggling your fingers as if you were casting a spell.

He chuckled quietly, moving to sit in the chair across from yours. “Neither. Thank the tinderbox that was left on the mantle.”

Propping yourself up with your elbow, you turned to face him, letting your dress drape over your hips. The knot at your neck loosened with every movement you made until you finally grew tired and pulled it free, shedding your cloak onto the sofa. Under any other circumstance, you would be scrambling to cover yourself. This was completely unlike you—to allow anyone other than your handmaid to see you like this. Harlot, your mother would say in her scolding tone, coupled with a scowl. But she wasn’t here—only Commander Ren.

“I find it hard to believe that you’re incapable of starting a fire, given everything else you can do.”

“Unfortunately, I was never any good at it,” he said, his eyes wandering to the golden flames. “Pyromancy, however, has always been one of my strongest suits.”

The conversation stalled for a moment as you watched his fingers glide over the armrest, hypnotized by the patterns he traced in the black velvet. His veins mingled with tendons as he moved—an intricate dance beneath his ivory skin. Somewhere deep within you, an ember flickered to life, its warmth spreading throughout your being. It was unusual, but not unwelcome.

“How can you do these things?” you asked, your voice floating through the air like the wisps of a dandelion.

He sighed, rolling his tongue over his teeth in thought. Finally, he said, “I was raised by witches.”

Your eyes widened—not in shock at his answer, but because he had answered at all. Rey’s words echoed in your mind. Commander Ren is a very private man.

“Witches? As in, multiple?”

He snickered softly. “Just two.”

“I see,” you whispered, watching him intently. There was something inherently alluring about him, an appeal that had drawn you in the instant you laid eyes on his portrait. An indescribable—yet persisting—quality. A charm.

After the success of your first question, you found the courage to pose another. “What were they like?”

A beat passed before he spoke, unease filling your stomach as you waited. The look in his eyes told you that your valiant effort was in vain. “What else did the handmaid tell you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his seat.

His words hit your chest like a thousand stones, shattering your confidence. Rey had warned you—begged you—to not discuss the matter of the Commander, fearing the consequences awaiting her if she did. Guilt crashed into you.

“Nothing. She said nothing else,” you stammered, pushing yourself up to a sitting position. With pleading eyes, you turned to him. “I swear it by all the gods.”

Ren stood to his feet, shushing you as he strode toward you. “There’s no need to call upon the gods, dear. I believe you.” His long fingers caressed your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. “I also believe that the girl is sensible enough to want to keep her head attached to her body. You asked her about me, didn’t you?”

Your heart slammed into your ribs, as if it were attempting to leap out and crawl into Ren’s hands. There was no use in arguing—he already knew the truth. The outcome of your fate depended on any ounce of respect you could earn from him. Lying now would be a disservice to everyone involved.

“Yes, I admit, I asked her to tell me what she knew of you, but she refused. It was only after I continued pressing the matter that she finally answered. Please, have mercy on her, she is innocent–”

He silenced you by pressing a finger against your lips. “If I beheaded every servant who spoke ill of me, the castle would be swept by ghosts.”

You said nothing, an unspoken understanding passing between you. While you believed him, there was also validity in Rey’s fear. Even the servant boy cowered in his presence. If one thing were true in this life, it was that rumors carried weight, and at times, merit.

“Why do they fear you so much?” you asked as his thumb brushed over your chin.

Ren let out a long sigh as he ran his fingers down your neck, pausing at your pulse point. “People fear what they do not understand.”

The air grew thick in the silence. A familiar sensation embraced you, igniting every fiber of your being under his touch. Much like the fire in front of you, the ember in your belly became an inferno. Your gaze fell to his pillowy lips, imagining what they would feel like against yours—what they would feel like on every inch of your skin. As soft as sin, probably. His eyes were coals, twinkling in the amber light, a tell that your thoughts were not as quiet as you had hoped.

“What do you fear most, darling?” he asked, his voice low and inviting. “I imagine that a woman like yourself doesn’t fear much, but everyone has their weakness.” He tilted your head slightly to the side, eyes wandering down your neck. “What is yours?”

Blood rushed in your ears, making you dizzy. Through the haze in your mind, a tiny voice broke through, begging you to resist him—resist the urge to bend to his will. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to barricade your thoughts, and as his eyes bore into yours, irises now a deep shade of red, his devilry won.

“Purpose.” The word passed through your lips like a specter, carrying a cadence that was foreign to your ears. “I fear a life without purpose.”

Satisfaction radiated off of Ren. “I see. And that is exactly why you were the only survivor.” He stretched his hand over your throat, applying gentle pressure to either side of your neck. The rhythmic drumming of your heart pulsed through his fingertips. “Because your purpose is so much greater than serving the Resistance.”

“What do you believe my purpose is, Commander?”

The backlight of the hearth cast a halo around him, deifying him. Ignoring your inquiry, he said, “The night is almost over. I suggest you get some rest.”

With that, he left you, somehow more cold and alone than you had been before. As the latch clicked shut, the haze lifted, quickly replaced by dread. Your vision tunneled on the fire in front of you, the black edges snuffing out your surroundings, narrowing your view to only the flames dancing over the logs.

As you stood from the lounge, your knees buckled, forcing you to summon all your strength to reach the bed before collapsing. Chest heaving, you stared up at the canopy, hoping to find anything but flecks of light dancing across your eyes. The voice in your head was shouting now, building to a deafening pitch, its message clear.

In the wake of his presence, two things remained: your distrust of Commander Ren and the strange warmth that had settled in your stomach.

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srorgana1 · 8 months

Text

Invocation

Paring: Vampire Kylo/Hunter Rey

Chapter Ten

As soon as Rey passes through the doorway, she freezes. The feeling in the séance room was so different compared to other times she has been down here. The whole space was seeped with magick. She could feel and almost see it's tendrils swirling around her coaxing her forward.

She walks up slowly to Jyn and the tall black man she has seen a couple times as they watch Mara talk to unknown person at the table. She had a feeling she knows who it is based on the head of shaggy black hair. “I got your message and Kay is covering for me. What happened?” she says as professionally as she can. It is difficult to keep focused as she feels the magick start to affect her.

“Another was taken. Ren was close to the scene and caught her signature…whoa” Jyn gasps, her eyes widening as a blast of magical power appeared. Rey’s eyes snap over to the man in the chair. It’s the same energy from AXS. She slivers as the signature swirls with the rest, seductively dark and immensely powerful. She could feel her lines raise in response, the cross around her neck beginning to tingle.

“The mighty Kylo Ren…” she hears Mara say before going still, her eyes whited out. Rey shifts uncomfortably, quietly racking her brain. She knows that name. Her face must’ve shown her question since Jyn decided to speak again. “You know his name. He was one of the original Knight of Ren like Trudgen here” she says glancing at the man beside her. He nods as his eyes flash silver.

She nods finally remembering the lecture Obi-Wan gave regarding the Knights of Ren so long ago. How they were hand made by the Devil himself and twisted to bring chaos and fear into the world. But in the end they turned on him, banishing him forever. While they helped humanity, they paid the price by becoming the basis of all Supernatural myths and legends in which humans fear.

She hears a low chuckle. “That’s the edited version” Trudgen says, staring at her. She feels another tingle, this one more intense. Another shiver racks her body. He smirks and focuses back on Mara “did you know your glowing?” What? She looks down and is shocked to see her lines are glowing gold, it’s intricate pattern spreading down her arms. She touches a line letting out a gasp as it tingles and sparks.

“Maybe Qui-Gon knew more then he let onto bringing you here” Jyn says cryptically. Rey narrows her eyes, confused at what she meant. She opens her mouth to ask but never gets to. “Come Reyna” she hears Mara say “it’s time for you to learn who you really are.” Her eyes widen as Mara looks at her, her green eyes warm and welcoming. Her legs move on their own bringing her closer to the group around the table.

“My my Reyna” she says “your powers are further along than I expected. Have you been practicing?” Mara says as you waves raven feathers over her silver bowl. “What? What are you talking about?” Rey responds, her body tight with nerves. “You’re Fae” a deep voice says next to her. She looks over to see Ren, no Kylo Ren standing there, his fierce red eyes and fangs on display.

She stares at him, his red eyes even more intoxicating than his dark ones. His handsome features complimented by his potent magical signature. He smirks, the tip of one fang peeking out. For some reason she likes the sexy but deadly vibe he exudes, even though his cover was a giant asshole.

“Rey, do you remember your parents? Your family” Mara says, breaking the moment. She clinches her fists tighter at her sides as she looked down at her feet. “No, not really. I was found by the police on the streets when I was four…” She hears Kylo take a sharp inhale through his nose, his energy spiking a little.

“Reyna, you are indeed Fae” Mara says as she places her hands in her lap. “Half to be precise. Qui-Gon could tell as soon as he saw you which is probably why he brought you here when he found you. True Fae are rare now, most of their communities were exterminated during the purges” she says with a far away look.

Rey shuts her eyes overwhelmed with this information. She had a family, kin at one time. Did any survive? If so do they know she is alive? Her heart peaks a bit, alight with a small glimmer of hope only to be crushed by Mara’s next words. “We have not heard from a Fae Court in over a hundred years. Believe me I hope some exist somewhere but I highly doubt it.”

Rey’s knees buckle, physically unable to deal with her pain of her loss of her potential chance of family. She wobbles as two strong arms encircle her, one hand lightly gliding her head to a strong pectoral. Kylo’s magick surrounds her making a protective cocoon, making her feel safe. She lets out a loud sob, finally allowing all her pent up pain out. She hears a low purring sound rumbling around her as a hand cards softly though her hair. “It’s okay, let it out” a deep voice says above her.

She sniffles as she looks up meeting his eyes. They are still red but now rimmed in a dark amber brown. They hold so much pain and anguish. She somehow knows he understands. “I’m sorry” she whispers as she lays her head back on his chest. “Don’t be” he responds, squeezing her tighter.

The silver bowl clatters to the ground pulling both of their eyes to Mara. She is stock still, her eyes whited out. The Witches swarm her again. “My lady, what is it?” the blonde Witch says as her brunette counterpart starts a low chant. She gasps as Mara’s hair starts to float. “Oh shit” Jyn says behind them. Rey can feel Kylo start to curl around her protectively.

“The unholy number will restore the one” Mara rasps in an unearthly voice as she levitates out of her chair, her mangled lower legs becoming visible at last. “One who is false will lead us astray. Darkness comes to devour us whole. He wants revenge, blood of the traitor to be fully whole. Trust the bond. Balance, balance…”

She hovers for a second, her auburn hair floating around her head like a halo. Kylo and Rey are stock still, amazed at what is before them. Kylo has seen Mara do many supernatural things in the past but this, this is something else. His eyes catch Trudgen walking up to her ready to catch her.

Her eyes shifts as she points at them. “Dyad” she whispers as she collapses into Trudgen’s waiting arms. There is a flurry of activity as the Witches, Trudgen and Jyn get Mara back to her chair and attend to her. Kylo and Rey stare at each other, both confused at what her vision meant and what is to come.

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