the d is for darkside pt 2

[reydacted]

WHO: Rey, Kylo Ren, Ronan
WHERE: The White Tower
WHEN: Finale, White Tower containment
WHAT: Rey makes a power grab
WARNINGS: Sexual content, kidnapping, violence

A beast had made its home inside of Rey, and it hungers for more. The deep well of her bubbling fury, control of a domineering entire empire, they weren't enough to satisfy the beast. She feels it scratching at her skin begging to be let out, begging to indulge in the chaos and ferociousness with how she had once fought. She had been wild and unrestrained, the only shackles she wore were a self-imposed fear of her own power.

She smiles, almost fondly, remembering the scavenger who was so driven by survival while she looks out the large windows of her private suite, the creeping doom halted at least for now. She was young but feral. Oh, what could they have accomplished if she hadn't been so afraid of herself? Rey is of course ready now, though, practically drunk on the idea of her own power once she's released herself of the literal shackles imposed by this world they've found themselves in.

Inopportune timing and failure of initial plans seem to be a theme of the Synod though, but it is now or never. And if Ronan doesn't make it through this then, well, that's a sacrifice Rey is willing to make. Kylo of course would be furious, but she thinks only until he feels the return of their true power. She could awaken it for the both of them, deliver it onto him like a gift. He'll know immediately when it courses through his veins, white-hot and all-powerful. It is only Kylo's foolish sentimentality that is holding them back now.

She presses a thought through the bond.

We have unfinished business. And then, after a moment, Your escort is welcome too.

Comments

[nightmarist]

Gladly, Ronan does.

As he bows down to answer that prayer, the barely-there touch of his fingers directs Kylo to his mouth. He wets his lips before brushing them over the smooth bulb of Kylo's head, a soft and maddening tease. His tongue drags a slick ring around it, then his mouth captures it again.

It's easy to know what this does to Kylo. Ronan has pleasured him in a thousand ways, in dreams and out of them. What he understands far less is the other half. He can't tell how much of Kylo's arousal is actually for him, or whether Kylo is even fully here. When it's Ronan who's possessing Kylo's body, they share everything but their will - Ronan entirely under Kylo's command, but so entwined that they exist as a single consciousness. Is it the same with Rey? Is she inside him? Does she feel Ronan's mouth on her, coaxing and indulgent?

[reydacted]

Her mouth drags open across her arm, flung up over her head. The pleasure of the sensations is strange, she had been unable to explain it to Stark when it had tangled up the four of them and she is not sure Kylo could put words to it either. She can feel Ronan's, warm and wet and inviting, on her body but not. The senses are real and physical, but she's not sure if her groan or the way her legs splay further open to accommodate a body that isn't there is really her own.

She can see how Kylo might get so drunk on Ronan's service, but he was still thing, a means to an end.

Or is it perhaps just jealousy? How easily an outsider slid into Kylo's arms, mind, and bed while the strings of fate that bound them together often felt more like thorns digging into each others skins or shackles they'd grind down their teeth on trying to gnaw off.

It strokes her own possessiveness. They will never be free of each other, and each day he plays this game is just another day he denies the inevitability of where he truly belongs. For all that Ronan is, he will never be Kylo's other half. She slips her hand between her thighs fingers drawing agonizingly light circles to remind him of that.

[photophobic]

The sound he makes is far from dignified. Tension ripples through the muscles of his stomach, his thighs— he falls back heavily into the echo of her arms, the arch of her back.

"Yes," he breathes, the word trembling at the edges. Ronan's mouth feels so good, so perfectly promising— the whisper touch of his lips and the glide of his tongue an exquisite torture Rey can't seem to help but make her own, too. His fingers dig bruises into his thighs as he struggles against the urge to let his hips buck up. He could. Ronan would let him, he knows. But Rey?

Rey wants him dragged along the knife-edge.

[nightmarist]

Ronan can feel Rey's influence behind Kylo's restraint. When it's just the two of them, Kylo never holds back, because Ronan's entire purpose is to permit the monster his brutality when everyone else would deny him.

This is good, though. It gives Ronan the chance to savor Kylo in ways he can't ordinarily, with hands tangled in his hair, forcing him down for a violent invasion. If he didn't despise Rey, he might even thank her for being the reason he can enjoy Kylo at such a leisurely pace. He takes every inch of Kylo into his mouth, but he has the opportunity now to do it slowly, tongue and throat working together to favor him with a pulsing massage.

[reydacted]

She bites the flesh of her palm, stifling her own groans, and drags her teeth across it as if it's the meat of his shoulder. She twists their bond around him like a constrictor, and she'd willingly deny herself to exert control over Kylo, to test him, to push him to the cusp of breaking, tugging on his consciousness threateningly.

These encounters were much smoother way of working out her supposed hatred of him, and depending on how her plan shakes out perhaps it would be mutual.

[photophobic]

Kylo's breath stutters, his whole body saturated with the sensation of being taken in. The throbbing heat of Ronan's mouth, his throat, Rey's possessive hunger coiling tight— between them, they have him captive in a way nothing else could.

Because he doesn't want to be freed.

The awareness that he should want to lingers as the racing beat of his heart, trembling resistance as Rey digs in her teeth. Isn't it better, when he lets her have him? And it is. He can't deny it. It is. He was made for her, she for him, and if he would just...

"Ronan," he gasps, reaching blindly for his anchor. His hands scrabble and grasp, his thoughts, his will— Ronan knows what he is when he is not a part of her, and the more he allows himself to be submerged, the tighter a hold he needs on that tether.

[nightmarist]

Ronan reaches back, his hands climbing to seize hold of Kylo's hips. He's here, right where Kylo wants him, and he'll be here until Rey succeeds in seducing or stealing him away.

...Which will be any moment now, he knows. They're in her domain and this is the tradition, their annual renewal of friendship. If she can't make Kylo hers tonight, she'll take him from the Sanctum instead, and it'll be an uglier affair.

Until then, Ronan presses forward. His eyes sting with tears as he takes Kylo deeper, stuffing down as much of him as he can. He's trained enough not to choke, in spite of the strain, and controlled enough not to force it too quickly. As much as he would love to drink Kylo down, it's not supposed to be Ronan who receives him today. All of this is for Rey.

[reydacted]

Her hold tightens, shuddering waves to echo his run through her. She's drunk on the feeling of their consciousness blurring. Never has it been more obvious that they are two that are one, and the raw potential of their power together as it should be-- real and realized --is thrilling to her as he slips deeper into their bond. Yes she seems to croon in his mind as he edges closer into losing himself in it, in her. He doesn't know the full potential of what they could be together, doesn't know what it felt like to be truly in sync as their sabers cut through the flesh of the praetorian guards. Their bond as alive as both of them like a livewire running through their veins. This pale imitation will never match it, and the reality of it is beyond his wildest dreams.

He could know it if he let her show him. If he just stopped holding on.

But Ronan's name rings loudly and clearly and it infuriates her. Like a rubber band pulled taut, she snaps. She forced him to face his master in the move that gave him the galaxy. She stole him from the barbarian that gave him his arctic empire. And now she will cut the tether that holds them both back from achieving real greatness.

But first she will just pluck him from his suite, just a few floors difference that Ronan will be safe making his way alone while she is ready to face the wrath of her monster.

[photophobic]

Kylo is, predictably, furious. Being snatched away at the very edge of bliss would be more than enough in itself— he aches with the sudden loss of Ronan's patient ministrations— but it's her decision to override his autonomy that has his breath hissing past his teeth. He rediscovers himself in Rey's sumptuous suite, the trembling sprawl of his abruptly untouched body spread out beside hers. He's been stolen. And as angry as he is at having been taken against his will right in front of his chosen one, it's a deeper fury that has him twisting and lunging in a clumsy effort to pin her down.

He hates this wild thrill of pleasure that comes only from being so dangerously, desperately desired.

[nightmarist]

Ronan sits back on his heels and takes a breath. There's no urgent need to move now that he's been left alone. The two of them will have plenty of frustration to work out between them before his assistance is required.

Not that it's ever truly required. He's superfluous in every scene. The set dressing.

He does need to catch his breath, though. While he was choking on Kylo, he couldn't get any air, and his lungs are burning. Inhale. Exhale. He pats his face dry with his sleeves, wiping away tears and saliva and sweat. Inhale. Exhale. He combs his long hair back with his fingers so that it stops clinging to his skin. Inhale. Exhale.

He leans forward, like a diver, and loses his form. Not a second later, he's in Rey's suite, too. But he draws no attention to himself just yet. They can keep doing what they're doing while he slowly peels off his clothes in the periphery.

[reydacted]

Rey laughs, haughty and loud, as Kylo pins her. She deeply enjoys this game, saving her power for the most satisfying and infuriating and impactful moments. She wraps her legs around his hips to wrench him closer to her.

"So wild, Kylo," she croons, pleased with the reaction she and Ronan collaborated on. "Like a beast."