the d is for dark side

[reydacted]

WHO: Rey, Ronan, Kylo
WHERE: Sanctum Aurorae
WHEN: The night new imPorts Arrive
WHAT: A "diplomatic" visit
WARNINGS: Probably various shades of NSFW. Alcohol, sexual content, violence.

For Ronan

Recently Rey had been testing the limits of her teleportation. Yes, always in the vicinity of Kylo but more and more she pushes it. How far is too far? There's something so... passionless about just porting directly into his bedroom really. She had been the one to yield and come to him, and he can likely already sense her presence, so she needs to have her fun wandering around his domain while he's made to wait.

The halls are largely empty, but Rey still stalks carefully in the darkness. She's traded the heels and her gala dress for light-soled boots a cloak drawn tightly around her to conceal her body with her hood up. Really she's dressed more for an assassination than a personal visit.

Despite being an outsider, she knows these halls well and finds her first stop quickly.

"Hello Ronan," she knocks on his door. "I brought you a gift."

Logically, she knows that there is really no point in bringing a god items that he can manifest himself, but she has a certain sort of affection for the Greywaren. Or as much as someone whose lost sight of almost everything except others' utility as a tool, to which Ronan was near infinite.

It's also the least she can do for the number of planes he's had to dream up to account for her theft.

For Kylo

When Rey decides Kylo has been made to wait long enough, she bids farewell to Ronan (and then maybe makes a few extra laps for good measure). Her entrance to the Supreme Leader's bedroom is much less formal, making her way in with no knock or announcement.

She swings her cloak over the back of a chaise before making herself comfortable in it rather unceremoniously. Rey's strategies at seduction have always had a rather unconventional start to them...

"I could have brought you to the White City," it's slightly more than an idle threat, but there is a reason she didn't.

Comments

[reydacted]

"Ask and maybe I will."

She had given him too much already by acquiescing to him earlier. It was an invitation and a command rolled into one. They tug for the reigns of power and poke at each others stubbornness. She wants a win tonight.

She pulls at the metal fastenings of her leather gloves with her teeth before nipping at the tip of a finger to pull them off. She flicks her wrist, the glove flopping against him to make the first contact.

"And then maybe I'll tell you my surprise."

[photophobic]

Is it a win if he chooses to give it over? Kylo watches her tug at her gloves— all this teasing and taunting— and then he makes his move.

He sinks down to one knee before her, gaze utterly steady. Did she think it would humiliate him? No. No, he's not ashamed. He takes her hand and lifts it to his mouth.

"Give it to me," he murmurs. His lips are softly, dangerously plush as he kisses her knuckles.

[reydacted]

She widens her knees to make room for his large form, willing to make an accommodation now that they've moved on from their requisite stubborn posturing.

There's a wicked sort of delight in watching the man who once told her he could take whatever he wanted kneel down before her. She had fought run, frightened of having-- being-- something he desired on Starkiller and again on the Supremacy. Now she counts it among her arsenal, although she hasn't tried to use it to its full potential.

Her fingertips run softly against his jaw, the callouses of a scavenger have been long lost to time and life as a politician.

"You were right. Earlier," she frames his face, tipping her head as if she's inspecting him. "The High Chancellor is struggling."

And despite their positions, it is not an innuendo.

[photophobic]

"Is he," Kylo murmurs, eyes sliding heavy-lidded as Rey traces her fingertips over his face. He doesn't seem particularly surprised— but why would he be? He turns his head, pressing a kiss to her palm.

"How unfortunate..."

[reydacted]

She sinks back into the chair while her free hand twines into his hair.

"Why do you insist," she curls a piece of his hair around her finger while she asks almost idly, "on staying up here to play in the snow?"

[photophobic]

"Why... would I choose be master of my own destiny," he muses as if to himself, hands lifting to her thighs to smooth a promising trajectory inwards. If she'll only let him sink between them, he'll give her what she came for.

"...in my own kingdom, where I have abolished deception... where there are no councillors, chancellors or politicians of any kind..."

And, knowing exactly where Rey decided to count out the minutes and make him wait for her, he makes sure to meet her eye as he adds:

"...with my chosen one at my side?"

[reydacted]

Her fingers stay laced through his hair, fingers twitching equally impatiently and threateningly with each word.

But it is his last statement-- oh, his last statement that sends a fire up her spine, her fingers curling and wrenching his head back by his hair to leave his neck exposed. It's bait, and worst of all she knows it's bait specifically meant to rile her. But even after all these years and practice as the collected politician, Kylo would always be the half of them that actually had control while she burned with an untamable fury that burst out at all of her edges.

"You rule over a desolate empire," she gnashes her teeth, curling forward to meet him. "Where you'll never be content. Where half of you will always be missing."

She presses her mouth to his ear, "Would you have kept me in a prison too?"

[photophobic]

There it is.

Kylo hisses the pain past his teeth, eyes flickering shut as she snaps— the vicious, wounded fury of her so raw and true as it bursts free of all her pretense. Wouldn't it be better, if she could simply be honest with herself? Like this. Just like this. His fingers grip her thighs, his pulse spiking. Her voice in his ear is so like her voice when it thrums through his head from half the world away, it's intoxicating...

"I don't keep anyone in a prison," he replies, the strain of enduring discomfort slipping into his voice. "They choose to stay with me. All of them. And you... you hate them for it..."

[reydacted]

"The only one I hate is you," which isn't even remotely true and just asking for Kylo to taunt her hypocrisy. His hands feel like fire on her legs, a delightful vise that leaves her wanting more. It's all but enough push her over the edge.

"You could have had me," She scrapes her teeth across where his jaw meets his neck, "You chose them instead."

She punctuates it with a quick bite.

[photophobic]

"Yes," Kylo agrees, breathlessly. It's encouragement, too. This is what he wants. Her anger, her hunger, her recognition of his choice. His decision. Let her rail against it. Let destiny itself dare to condemn him for it: he'll choose it all the same, over and over again. Freedom, every time. He won't be a slave to their story any longer, no matter how sweetly the craving sings through his blood.

"I did."

[reydacted]

It hurts.

Her monster that she couldn't tame. Her monster that refuses to be hers. He's carries the unique privilege of being the only one she lets hurt her like this. His palace in the arctic serves a shrine to how he'd rebuke her again and again.

Doesn't he see how much they could do together? They would have masters but themselves.

"I know you feel it," she shoves him backwards with the Force, a channel for pain as she tumbles down with him. "You handicap yourself just to spite me."

[photophobic]

He hits the smooth stone floor hard, the force of the blow knocking the air out of his lungs— and there she is, colliding into him. It's perfection. Exhilaration. His eyes are sharp with the particular clarity of pain as he looks up at her, daring her to—

To what? Kill him? No, though he'd relish the challenge if she were to try. No. He wants the fury she sets free on no-one else. He wants the very core of her, vicious and magnificent.

"I feel it," he assures her.

And he doesn't mean their bond. Has the darkness ever been this bold, before? How accustomed to it she must have become, to allow it so much hold.

"Is this... the surprise you promised me?"

[reydacted]

She straddles him across his hips. The weight of her alone wouldn't be nearly enough to keep him down, but she's not worried about him moving. Her hand wraps around his neck, smoothing over it reverently. Almost affectionately.

Yes. Yes, this was the surprise.

"We have an opportunity," and the means and the motive all aligned. It seems as if an impossibility. Like they were magnets set to the same pole, bound to repel each other rather than flip and wield the sum of their power together.

[photophobic]

This time, Kylo seems to get the message that it's not his turn to speak. His eyes stay locked on her face, but he makes no move to dislodge her. His pulse begins to race.

What is it she wants from him? What is it she hopes will tempt him to come back to her? He offers nothing to interrupt the moment but his own shallow breathing and the heat stirring beneath.

[reydacted]

"You hold only a fraction of this world," her fingers squeeze lightly, experimentally. "Left alone only because other factions stupidly make themselves bigger thorns in our side."

And maybe a mind trick or two or four or ten when its come up individually from other parliamentarians.

"The White Tower is poised to end it," Dooku is already seeing to the beginning of it. Blink out each faction one by one. The Sanctum would not be spared, and she pushes her weight against his throat as if to demonstrate it.

"You'd let Stark seize the Porter?"

[photophobic]

If he were feeling particularly contrary, this is where he might tell Rey that Stark seizing anything hardly takes it out of his reach, does it?

But, judging by the light in her eyes and the thoughtful application of pressure she's toying with, Kylo rather suspects Rey herself has little intention of allowing the High Chancellor his moment. Interesting, but not exactly unexpected. Especially considering the company she keeps in the White Tower: Kylo remembers when he was Dooku's favourite potential path to power quite clearly.

"—might let him try," he replies in a shallow voice, words strangled beneath her grip in a way she may well find pleasing. "...let him annihilate himself..."

[reydacted]

Her hand releases his throat only to clutch his jaw and wrench him up to meet her.

"And let him take everything I've worked for with him?" His legacy would be rewritten as one of a madman, his Iron Legion, her technological eyes and ears thrown out. No, she needed to preserve everything she had carefully crafted. The assassination of the Chancellor would prove to be the perfect time to roll-out the entirety of the arsenal in the name of safety and security.

"He is fatigued but he isn't stupid," she can't guarantee he already hasn't gotten some whiff of her plans. "It will be him or I by the Synod's end."

[photophobic]

There is, apparently, only so much Kylo will let Rey get away with.

Moving with sudden power, he surges into her hold and pushes past it to force her to the the floor, trapping her there beneath his weight. Not that he expects to be able to hold her for long if she doesn't want to be held— the gesture is largely symbolic.

"Then it will be you," Kylo murmurs from above. "But only if that is really what you want. To play politics from the seat of an Empire set to crumble."

[reydacted]

Rey grunts in protest to the change in their position but her objections end there for now. She hooks her legs around his waist, locking at the ankles. Wherever he moves she will follow.

"And what has the power to knock the White Tower down?" She's taunting him, her fingers back to gently cupping his chin rather than acting like a vise around his throat. "There is no legitimate thread that could stand up against us."

[photophobic]

"You've been listening too closely to Dooku," Kylo warns softly, a deliberate contrast to the slow, promising roll of his hips as he leans into her. "Always looking at his enemies, never considering any weaknesses of his own..."

[reydacted]

Rey wrinkles her nose in apparent displeasure.

"I leave you ungagged and you choose to talk about Dooku right now?"

[photophobic]

His eyebrows raise, lips twisting in amusement.
"Oh, did you?" he asks lightly. "Ungagged. How merciful you are..."

Though maybe it's just that she has other plans for his mouth.

"But you did ask me a question. That's my answer. Did you need me to explain it?"

[reydacted]

Her mouth pulls into a tight line, amused. She can be merciful if he deserves it or she is feeling particularly generous. Neither is apparent as she rakes her hands through his hair considering his question.

"The White Tower has abundant defenses," it's a bit of a stalling technique as she wracks her own mind for what Kylo would consider their greatest weakness. A bit of a bluff, "Any exploitation, we're sure to discover them early..."

[photophobic]

Kylo watches her turn his prompt over, though his concentration absolutely wavers as she drags her fingers through his hair. Her nails running over his scalp have his eyes heavy-lidded and his speech just a little blurred at the edges.

"Ask me," he suggests, leaning in to her ear.

[reydacted]

She turns her head, nose bumping into his cheek. She tips her chin just enough to press her lips against his, brief and overly teasing while her fingers flex in his hair.

"Tell me," she pulls back only minutely to offer her request in a quiet but firm undertone.