If anyone would ask Kylo Ren what was the main advantage of having a mask and that he miraculously felt inclined about answering that question, he would say that he could look wherever he wanted and that no one would ever guess. Not that he was the voyeur type, far from it. There weren't many cleavages to stare down on Starkiller anyway. All the best, now that it was mentioned. The feared successor of Darth Vader didn't need any petty female distraction. He was Sith, the incarnation of evil. He had been seduced by the most powerful mermaid of all: the pull of the Dark Side. The mere idea of him falling for a woman's charms was laughable!

No, what he meant by never being spotted while staring had more to do with shiny objects.

He couldn't explain it. Show him something that sent back light and he was hypnotized. He liked standing in the middle of the command room of Starkiller because of all the little blinking lights everywhere, even if that annoyed the hell out of general Hux. (Officially, Kylo wasn't supposed to stay on the deck all the time. The commandment of Starkiller had been assigned to General Hux alone and the Sith was only supposed to supervise the general functioning. Which he could do by simply reading the reports, but instead he has to see everything for himself and act as if he was the general himself. Which was very, very annoying.)

He could stay hours staring at the starry night, even if the first wandering idiot that would catch him looking dreamingly at the stars would die a rather painful death. He hated having grease stains on his lightsaber, which was the reason why it was highly recommended for stormtroopers to handle it with gloves under all circumstances should they enter in contact with it (the source for this information it The Unofficial Guide To Not Being Slaughtered (Stormtrooper Edition), By Captain Phasma). And last but not least, he had even sacrificed his own mask to his secret obsession, leaving behind the all black look of his grandfather and adding shiny decoration around the eyes. Snoke, upon discovering the design of his apprentice's new appearance, back in the days where he was still all fresh under the Dark Force's shadowy wing, had disagreed with it, but since the helmet had already been fully crafted he had let it pass.

Kylo Ren himself had no idea why he was so fascinated with small twinkling things. He had secretly researched the matter, one night as he snuck out to the Great Starkiller Archives, only to discover that humans weren't close relatives to cats. That had worried and reassured him at the same time. Worried because that left him with the question he had hoped to answer still hanging, and reassured because he really wasn't a cat person (as a matter of fact, he liked goldfishes most, obviously because they had shiny scales, but it turned out – to his greatest deception about life so far – that humans shared even less genes with goldfishes then with cats).

But generally, he didn't worry about it. In fact, he had far more important things to obsess about, such as how to get rid of that stupid helmet hair (his grandfather, being bald, had never had this problem as he was staring in the mirror every evening before going to sleep, so he was considering shaving), how to fit more training hours in his day without bypassing the obligatory amount of sleep hours (seven) Snoke had imposed him upon discovering how maniac he could get over unperfected fight moves or how to lure Hux into lending him more Stormtroopers for mind manipulation practice.

The only time it truly bothered him was on meetings. Hux had that subordinate who handed him the papers and that generally carried all his reports around (kind of like some walking file holder, only with a mind of it's own, even if one would hesitate before calling any subordinate of Hux a sentient being). The guy was quite young for being so highly ranked. Kylo Ren guessed that he was from some First Order's influent family, or even the bastard son of an important mind: they usually gave the younger products of unwanted nights of passion to the army, as some sort of tribute of their devotion to the almost-religious veneration in which they held their leaders.

Well, that boy, as Kylo called him in his mind (even if the officer was older then him, a fact that he preferred to ignore), had recently married. And in order to let the whole world know, he had made himself two rings. One he wore casually, one his hand, when he was off duty. And one, specially large and shiny, that he wore over his uniform glove. Oh yes, his wife was a glorious woman, but she had no idea how that glory was heightening the chances of her husband having his hand (or head) cut off the day Kylo would throw one of his legendary tantrums at a meeting.

So here was that truly clueless man, waving his large fake diamond ring all over the table as he gathered the files that randomly flew around (if mess was an art, Hux would be an artist) as Kylo tried, really tried, with all his black little (presumably empty and dead) heart, to follow what was happening around him. But he couldn't. Because of blowjobs.

And that's how he had earned himself a reputation of being a man of few words.

No one had noticed it, or so he had thought, until his twenty second birthday, where an anonymous person had left a small package in front of his door. A card had been left on it, who contain the exact following words: 'For the moments of emptiness. P.'. In it was a simple stone. A shiny stone.

Kylo had never discovered who the mysterious observer was, nor how he (or she) had discovered his fascination and his actual date of birth. But he had kept the stone. It had been his best birthday present since he had joined the Dark Side. His only birthday present, yes, but it didn't mean that he didn't like it. He kept it as a decoration in his room.

Apart from all this, he had never truly worried about this specific obsession. Not until a certain incident that changed everything.

ooo

Yo ho ho! Merry christmas, everyone! I am not christian and I don't particularly like coca cola but I still celebrate because free presents. (I like giving too! That's why I write fanfiction! For freeeeeeeee!)

Anyway, I am going to make a very long author's note. But hey, if you stick with me, I promise it will be fun. These are a few things I wanted to share with you.

First… Don't ask me where doest the idea for this fanfiction came from. I don't know. It was some divine intervention. I literally woke up a few days ago and thought 'Kylo. Shiny things. Yup.' And here I am.

So this will be a romaaaance because yay, awesome characters belong with each other. But I don't want to make it the core of my story here. I want to have mess around with Ben Solo. Which is why it is in humor. I am relatively good in making people laugh with my writing, but I have a pretty farfetched humor so some jokes might be a little to complicated. If you stumble upon any, please send me a word and I will try to make it a little more understandable. And if you are really too dumb, I will explain the joke directly to you. Home service.

I won't usually go down that Dark Path, but I they may also be a few tries at dark and crass humor. Nothing too dark or dirty, and not all the time, but they might be there. And while I'm warning you, I'll also throw in a 'be careful coz future mature scenes' because if I am getting there without a writer's block there is got to be some sort of reward for me (and for the people reading me that enjoy these things too). And yes, they will be numerous sex jokes too.

Fun part! I have made a few research on Kylo because I am a crazy stalker.

1. He looks like Snape. My sister and me both agrees on that.

2. His name was originally Ben Solo, but upon being seduced by the Dark Side, he took the name Kylo Ren. Ren because he is now part of the order of the Knights of Ren, but Kylo? Let me blow you mind: Skywalker, Solo. Yes. Yes! He is meant to be a good guy! His name say so!

3. His age, according to Woopiepedia, is thirty, since he is born about one year after the battle of Endor (boy – literally -, Leila and Han couldn't wait to get to a world with condoms!)

(Sorry… Sorry, I take it back. Some jokes aren't meant to be said aloud.)

Upon discovering this, I was shocked to the bone. Thirty? Thirty? And he hasn't completed his training yet? But he looks… so young… in the way he acts… Come on. His tantrums are way to childish (hilarious) for him to be thirty. Right? Since internet wasn't going to tell me what I wanted, I decided to cheat. I was going to use the actor's age… who turned out to be thirty-two. (Since the 18th of November.)

Death hanging upon my soul, I have decided to pair my new most favorite villain with someone else… Captain Phasma looked mature enough… when my resolve as a fanfiction writer overtook me. No! I shall not succumb! Han and Leia thrived and feed their souls with chaste kisses and pure love, making their beloved Ben… Twenty-eight. Hum.

So I have summoned, from the deepest depth of the galaxy, where I have banished it… my angsty writing vibe. One miscarriage and four years of Hurt/Comfort later, Leia agrees to get over the loss of little Danielle and decides to try a second time. And, because babies don't always come easy and because Han had drunk a lot of bottled water*, I can happily add two more years of wait until little Ben is screaming and kicking into the world. And tadaaa! Twenty-two! Doesn't that want to make you do a happy dance?

No?

Okay, I will end my author's not here. I promise that next time there will be a longer chapter and less blabla.

*Bottled water has been proven to be a major factor of a decline in male fertility. (I told you I was also into dark humor.)