#I WANTED...I WANTED TO HAVE REN OKAY...WHEEZE

[tomikashii]

tokyo debunker: episode 17 yap (part 2)

⚠️: episode 17 spoilers ahead !

no cause his reaction is so real and so ‘him’

mc was probably nervous as hell and to see like a friend, a familiar face, probably calmed her down and seeing his super realistic reaction 😭

mc 🤝 ren friendship

i actually am too..... #guilty 😩

AW LOOK AT HIM ALL EMBARASSED LMFAOAOAOAOAOAAOAOA

this backfired alot. he indeed did not go back home. he stayed. 🧍🏻‍♀️

LMFAO HE IS SO UNSERIOUS BYE

NOT HIM CALLING JIN A PHONY PIANIST IM WHEEZING

NO WAIT STOP THATS SO SAD JIROOOOO 😭😭😭

i want to know the kirisaki family lore so bad rn please

everytime someone mentions his family or he gets reminded of them, he will start to have a coughing frenzy like his allergic to his past.

im actually crashing out

WOAH NEW HEAR ME OUT

she lowkey kinda fine

omg pick me please

LMFAO ?????????? darwick really picked like the worst people for this mission foreal 😭

well, okay maybe jin because he figured out in the end LMAO

[writesvani]

coming down | 03

collegestudent! gojo x collegestudent! reader

SUMMARY: You and Gojo Satoru were once everything to each other, but now, the space between you is filled with nothing but silence and resentment. College is just a reminder of how far you’ve drifted apart, and every encounter only adds fuel to the fire.

You avoid him like the plague, but it doesn’t matter. You can still feel him in the shadows, always there, always watching, as if the past was never really gone. So what do you do? You (try to) keep your distance, pretending it’s easy to forget the history that’s weighed you down for so long.

But deep down, neither of you can let go. And as the tension between you grows, you’re forced to confront the truth: some things are never truly buried, no matter how hard you try.

best friends-to-friends with benefits-to-enemies-to-enemies with benefits-to?

TWs (for this chapter): substance use, emotional manipulation, toxic dynamics, addiction & mentions of addiction, emotional distress & breakdowns, implied past betrayals, self-destructive behavior, unhealthy eating habits, unhealthy relationship with food, angst & heartbreak

comment HERE for my Coming Down taglist;

SERIES M.LIST

— previous chapter // next chapter

wc: 6,1k // date: 13th of March 2025

CHAPTER THREE - Twenty Eight; proceed with caution...

AN: okay, let’s address the fact that the beginning of this chapter was inspired by the absolute worst chinese restaurant i have ever ordered from in my life. which, honestly, isn’t even surprising because who the fuck orders from an asian restaurant owned by white people? me. that’s who. but listen, i was broke, it was cheap—i thought, win-win, right?

wrong. so fucking wrong. that food tasted like it was made by someone whose only experience with seasoning was looking at a picture of salt once. and yet, much like y/n and ren in this chapter, i still subjected myself to suffering i knew was coming.

love, [@writesvani]

Ren dramatically wipes his tears, shaking his head like he’s just survived a near-death experience. “I think I just saw my ancestors begging me to stop eating,” he sniffles, taking another desperate sip of his Coke Zero like it’s holy water.

You sigh, patting his back like the good friend you are. “Next time, we stick to actual Chinese places. Not ‘Uncle Tom’s Oriental Oasis.’”

Ren fake-gags again, staring at the garbage like it personally betrayed him. “I should sue for emotional distress.”

“You should sue yourself for ordering from a place with a fortune cookie that just said ‘good luck.’”

At that, Ren deadpans. “We are never speaking of this again.”

You shake your head, grabbing a handful of chips to cleanse your soul from whatever ungodly thing just entered your body. “No, but like… why did we actually think this was gonna be good?”

Ren groans, rubbing his temples. “Because we were blinded by hunger and their five-star Yelp review.”

“Which, mind you, was written by someone named ‘Greg692BestChef.’”

Ren throws himself back dramatically onto the couch. “I let Greg692BestChef play me like a damn fiddle.”

You scroll through your phone, pulling up the restaurant’s page, and nearly choke on your drink. “Dude… someone left a review last week saying their friend ordered the lo mein and is now ‘one with the cosmos.’”

Ren shoots up like he just got electrocuted. “WHAT?”

You turn the screen to him, and the two of you stare at it in horror before bursting into laughter so hard your stomachs hurt.

“Never again,” Ren wheezes, wiping his eyes. “Never. Again.”

Ren groans, aggressively typing out his scathing Yelp review like it’s his life’s purpose. “‘If food poisoning was a dish, this place would be its five-star chef.’ There. Posted.”

He leans back, taking a long drag of his cigarette like a war veteran recounting battle trauma.

You snort, lighting one up yourself. “Dude, they’re gonna ban you from ever stepping foot there again.”

Ren scoffs. “Good. If I ever eat there again, I want you to personally slap me.”

“Gladly,” you smirk, still sprawled out on his floor like a starfish. The bad French movie plays in the background, two characters dramatically kissing in the rain while an unnecessarily sad violin score swells.

Ren side-eyes the screen. “Why do all these movies feel like a fever dream?”

You shrug. “I dunno, but I feel like if I understood French, I’d be even more confused.”

Ren nods solemnly, taking another sip of his Coke Zero. “Yeah… sometimes ignorance is bliss.”

Silence settles between you for a second before Ren randomly blurts out, “I swear, if I wake up at 3 AM with food poisoning, I’m sending you a voice message so you can suffer with me.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “You are so dramatic.”

Ren gestures at the pile of cigarette ashes and abandoned takeout containers. “We just willingly ate our last meal together like we’re on death row. Let me have my moment.”

You flick your cigarette into the ashtray, sighing. “Fair enough. Just… don’t actually die. I’d miss our shitty movie nights.”

Ren grins, nudging you with his foot. “Aw, you do love me.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up before I make you eat the leftovers.”

Ren immediately recoils in horror. “You are evil.”

Finally, you pull out what you really wanted this whole evening and Ren rolls his eyes seeing it. “Ugh, really. Weed? Now?” He deadpans, his features a mixture of grumpiness and disappointment. “It already smells like shit, I can sense it from here,” he continues and you throw a casual glare at him.

“You can stop with your fake overdramatics—I didn’t even light it up yet,” you scoff, carefully picking apart the bud with practiced ease.

Ren, still holding his nose, glares at you like you just committed a felony in his living room. “You don’t have to light it up for me to know it smells like puke on crack.”

You pause mid-roll, narrowing your eyes. “What the actual hell kind of comparison is that?”

Ren shrugs, settling back against the couch as if your mere presence is an inconvenience to his entire existence. “I don’t know, but it’s accurate.”

Ignoring him, you continue your work, fingers moving with the kind of precision only years of experience could provide. It’s muscle memory at this point—the rhythm of breaking it down, mixing it with tobacco just to get that extra kick, rolling it up so smoothly that it looks professionally done. There’s something oddly comforting about the routine, something grounding.

It reminds you of high school, of sneaking into Satoru’s backyard, both of you thinking you were being rebellious when in reality, you were just two stupid teens. It reminds you of that one school trip, where you, Satoru, and Ren locked yourselves in a tiny hotel room bathroom just to get high in peace—except Ren took one hit, coughed like a dying man for two hours, and somehow managed to throw up while simultaneously demanding water and cursing your entire bloodline.

A small smile tugs at your lips at the memory.

Ren, noticing, groans. “Oh my god, you’re thinking about the past, aren’t you?”

You glance up, amusement flickering in your eyes. “You mean when you nearly choked to death and Satoru yelled at me like I laced your weed with black magic?”

Ren shudders. “That was trauma. Not nostalgia.”

You roll your eyes, finally sealing the joint with a satisfied hum. “Relax, you lived. Now, are you gonna keep whining, or are you gonna pass me the lighter?”

Ren sighs so dramatically you half-expect him to start composing a tragic monologue. Instead, he tosses you his lighter with a look of pure suffering. “If my landlord evicts me, I’m blaming you.”

You smirk, flicking the lighter on. “Deal.”

He sighs, slumping onto the couch, muttering under his breath. “My place is cursed.”

Finally, a click, a flame. And a hit.

The first hit of a joint isn’t necessarily the best one—you’ve always thought the magic lives somewhere in the middle—but it’s the one that opens the door. The one that whispers, welcome back, sweetheart.

Weed doesn’t change the world. There are no floating unicorns, no sudden bursts of divine clarity, no soul-shattering epiphanies that make you rethink your entire life. But you change. Your heartbeat quickens, your thoughts stretch out like a lazy cat in the sun, and the disgusting aftertaste of bad Chinese food is no longer the most tragic thing that’s ever happened to you.

Your throat is dry, but the feeling settling into your bones is golden, warm, like slipping into a bath after a long day. Maybe sex is better than this—but that’s still up for debate. You’ll need more extensive research.

Lazily, you extend your hand toward Ren, the joint hanging from your fingers like some overpriced festival keychain. "Want some?" Your voice is lower now, thick with smoke and amusement.

Ren shoots you a look—the classic 'Really, bitch?' followed by an exaggerated eye-roll—but, to your utter shock, he still takes it.

“But don’t tell a single soul,” he hisses, bringing it to his lips like he’s partaking in a forbidden ritual.

You watch with barely contained laughter as he takes a tiny, hesitant hit. And of course, he fucks it up—doesn’t inhale all the way, just lets the smoke sit in his mouth before exhaling like an old man pretending to enjoy cigars.

“Cute,” you deadpan.

His glare is immediate, sharp like a knife. “Shut up.”

And then, like the universe wants to humble him personally, he coughs—just once, just barely—but enough for you to catch it. Enough for your smirk to widen.

“You good there, champ?” you tease, stretching out on the floor like the sneaky little menace you are.

Ren flips you off, muttering something about regretting every life choice that led to this moment, but you barely hear him.

Because the world feels a little lighter, a little softer. The edges of your mind blur into something easy, something good. The bad food, the shitty French movie playing in the background, Ren’s dramatic sighs—all of it mixes together into something oddly perfect.

But he still takes one more hit.

And then another.

And suddenly, you guys are doing full circles, joint messily passed from one hand to another, your fingers brushing each time in a silent exchange of trust and delirium. Ren would never do this if it weren’t for you. You know that.

Deep down, somewhere past the thick haze of smoke and giggles, you realize—you’re a bad influence. You’re the devil on his shoulder, the little shit leading him into temptation. And Ren, sweet Ren, deserves better. Someone who doesn’t drag him into nights like this one. Someone good.

But you’re way too stoned to unpack that mess right now.

“You know,” Ren slurs, holding up the joint like it’s the Holy Grail, his eyes almost completely shut, the pink blush on his cheeks making him look like a sleepy anime character. “If you were anyone else, I’d never take this shit.”

“Then why take it in the first place?” you muse, propping yourself up on your elbow, watching him with heavy-lidded amusement.

“Because I trust you,” he says dramatically, placing a hand on his heart like a boy scout taking an oath.

Your heart squeezes, warm and aching.

Ren trusts you. And suddenly—just for a moment—you trust yourself, too.

“Awww, you’re soooo cute,” you coo, pinching his cheek.

Ren groans, swatting your hand away, but there’s a softness in his gaze that wasn’t there before. A splurge of something missing passes through the thin air between you two. A lingering shadow of him.

Because once upon a time, it was never just the two of you. Someone else used to be here, part of this, part of you.

But the moment comes and goes like a flickering light, too fast to grasp.

And then, out of nowhere—laughter.

Not a chuckle. Not a haha, that’s funny laugh. No, this is monstrous, uncontrollable, borderline dangerous.

Ren is wheezing. Wheezing.

“Stop looking at me,” he grits through his teeth, face tomato red, shaking like a faulty washing machine.

“Oh God, I can’t breathe,” you wheeze, rolling on the floor, clutching your stomach like that’ll stop the pain from laughing too hard.

Suddenly, still wheezing like a dying kettle, Ren stumbles to his feet, the joint still clutched between his fingers. With his free hand, he throws you the middle finger, face scrunched up in an unhinged mixture of laughter and suffering.

You barely manage to get up yourself, your legs wobbly from all the cackling, just to see what the hell he’s up to.

And then—Ren screams.

“STOP FOLLOWING ME! IF I KEEP LOOKING AT YOU, I’LL NEVER STOP LAUGHING!”

You gasp, utterly offended. “Are you implying I’m funny to look at?”

Ren smirks, eyes still red and glossy. “Finally, we’ve come to an understandament.”

“You mean understanding, dumbass.”

“That’s what I said.”

It takes another five minutes for the laughter to fully die down, leaving you both sprawled on the floor like two crash-landed UFOs, staring at the ceiling in complete silence. The high is settling now, turning the chaos into something softer. Something almost wise.

Like two broke philosophers who spent their last brain cells on bad decisions.

You glance at Ren, the image of him dressed as an ancient Greek philosopher—robes, laurel wreath, sandals and all—suddenly popping into your mind. The idea makes you grin, slow and lazy.

“You should totally go as Aristotle for Halloween,” you mutter.

He throws you one of those nasty glares only he can do - and a comfortable silence falls upon you. But not for long.

“So, how was dinner with Yumi and Nanami last week?” Ren breaks the silence, eyes glinting with curiosity, a soft smile playing on his lips. His pink cheeks still look like the aftereffects of the weed, and god, he looks so cute.

But then, like a sucker punch to the gut, the memory of that evening with Yumi and the gang hits you. Your mood plummets. “Fine, except there were other people there too.”

Ren raises an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Like who?”

You shrug, trying to keep it casual, but the names keep coming out like a string of regrets. “Like Yuji, Megumi, that chill girl I mentioned a few times – Shoko, Sukuna—”

“WAIT, THAT HOT TATTOO ARTIST YOU FUCKED LAST YEAR IN MY APARTMENT SUKUNA? LITERALLY RUINED MY WHOLE LIVING ROOM BY FUCKING YOU SUKUNA? HE WAS THERE?” Ren practically shrieks, eyes wide with disbelief.

You, of course, can’t help but nod with a nonchalant air, even though your insides are churning. “Yeah, well, I think I told you a few times that Nanami and him are friends.”

Ren stares at you, jaw hanging open like he’s in a state of shock. “No, you did not, ‘cause I would totally remember. Had to get my old-ass sofa repaired because of you two and don’t forget I was literally hiding in the bathroom while he was doing you.”

You let out an obnoxious laugh, the realization of what he’s saying sinking in. “HA, I totally forgot about that.”

Ren’s face twists into a grimace. “I was holding my breath in there like I was about to get kidnapped by aliens. I could hear everything. Everything.” He shudders, looking both horrified and amused.

“Sorry,” you grin, taking in the moment. “Guess you’re just unlucky with your choice of friends.”

Ren grins back, but it’s a little twisted. “No, I’m unlucky with you and your dumbass choices.”

You both burst into laughter again, even though, deep down, you know that evening with Sukuna will be forever burned into Ren’s memory.

"So, was anyone else there?" Ren asks, his voice cool and casual, though you can tell by the way he leans back in his seat that he's trying to ignore the mental image of Sukuna in his living room, wrecking his damn couch.

"Yeah, just Satoru," you answer, biting your lip as you reach for your pack of cigarettes. There's no way you're handling this conversation without a cig.

Ren’s eyes narrow, but he’s too polite to press it further—at least not immediately. "Oh, so, how was it?" He asks, his tone shifting slightly, all business now, like he’s the concerned older brother and you’re the emotionally distant wreck who always needs fixing.

You flick your lighter, taking a long drag from the cigarette before answering in the most nonchalant way possible. "He said I was a junkie."

Ren’s face freezes. His lips part like he’s about to say something, but the words don’t come out right away. His brow furrows, and you can practically hear the wheels turning in his head. He shakes his head, as if trying to shake off the absurdity of it. "No way. That’s... that’s not something he’d say. Not to you."

You chuckle bitterly, but it’s a sound that doesn’t reach your eyes. "Well, he said it. He said quite a few things about me, remember? First at that stupid party—how I’m not his type, then called me cheap on my own birthday and now—this.. He doesn’t care, Ren. And honestly? Neither do I."

You exhale smoke, watching it curl lazily in the air, feeling the tension between you both thicken like air. Ren stares at you, his fingers twitching on his knees, a thousand thoughts flashing across his face. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, clearly torn between comforting you and ripping Gojo a new one.

But Ren says nothing. He just... sits there. His eyes meet yours, but there's something unreadable in them, something that feels too heavy. His silence? It’s deafening. It hangs in the air between you two, pressing down on you both.

And for a second, you wonder if he’s thinking what you’re thinking—that maybe Gojo was actually right for what he did. Maybe you were indeed the one who ruined it all. Maybe Gojo really wanted to help back then.

But you won’t say that. Not to Ren. Not now. Not ever. And neither will Ren.

You let the silence drag out, letting the anger and the hurt simmer just below the surface. And then you smirk, letting the smoke out in a slow, deliberate puff.

"You know," you begin, breaking the tension in a way that only you can, "I think I’d be a much better influence on you if I wasn't so... You know…."

Ren looks at you like you just hit him with a ton of bricks, his expression softening, but there’s still that guarded, unspoken thing between you. His lips twitch like he’s trying to find something to say—anything to fix this. To make it better. But he doesn't.

And you decide to speak again.

“But, like, he didn’t have to say that in front of everyone, it was awkward, that’s all,” you blurt out, and as the words spill from your mouth, you can’t stop them. “I mean, there’s so much I could say about him, but do you see me doing that? No, because I have a filter—unlike him. Jesus, what he did to me is so much worse than anything I’ve done to him, but suddenly, I’m the bad guy. If anyone has the right to hate, it should be me. He ruined my life, my relationship with my parents—everything. Thanks to him my parents will never trust me completely again. Honestly, fuck him, and fuck them, and fuck everything,” you vent, the words flowing faster than you can think.

Ren’s fingers tighten around yours, and you can feel the heat of his hand, the strength in his grip grounding you. His eyes meet yours, filled with that familiar ‘I’ve got you’ look, and it’s like the weight of the world lifts off your shoulders just a little. You keep going, voice shaking with frustration, your heart still pounding.

“And listen to this—after I got up to leave because I couldn’t stand his bullshit anymore, do you know what he did?” You ask, practically spitting the words out. Ren’s eyes widen, anticipation and disbelief in his gaze.

He shakes his head. "What did he do?"

“He followed me,” you snap, unable to keep the venom from your voice. “Like, actually followed me. What the fuck kind of person does that?”

Ren’s face falls. His lips part in shock. “He did what?”

You nod, a bitter laugh slipping past your lips. “Yeah, and then he had the nerve to act like I was the crazy one. Like, he can’t just let it go. You know, because he’s so perfect.”

Ren shakes his head, clenching his jaw, looking more pissed off than you’ve ever seen him. “What happened then?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, eyes downcast, anger still bubbling up inside. “I told him to leave me alone and walked out. That’s it. Nothing else to say. He’s not worth the energy.”

Ren exhales sharply, his jaw tight as he processes everything. He doesn’t say anything at first, but his fingers never leave yours, and that small gesture feels like more comfort than anything else he could say.

“You should’ve punched him,” Ren finally says, with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Just sayin’.”

You laugh, but it’s dry, without humor. “Yeah, well, maybe I should’ve. At least then I wouldn’t have been the only one feeling like shit.”

Ren’s grin fades into something more serious, his gaze softening again as he squeezes your hand. He doesn’t need to say anything else. You know he gets it.

After your little horrible takeout/smoke sesh/emotional dumping with Ren, you're faced with the ultimate dilemma—crash at his place or haul your ass back home. The thought of passing out on his questionable couch is tempting, but you know yourself. The only thing capable of truly fixing your mood is your own bed, your pillows, your sheets. So, despite Ren's lazy-ass attempt to convince you to stay, you call a cab and prepare to embrace the all-too-familiar feeling of being alone.

Sitting in the backseat, forehead resting against the cool glass, you let your mind drift to your post-hellish-evening survival plan. Step one: shower. Non-negotiable. Step two: food? Wait—no. You already ate. Technically. Even though the so-called "food" you consumed might be classified as a hate crime. But still, eating again would be overkill, right? Unhealthy? Unnecessary? Your stomach doesn’t necessarily agree, but you ignore it. Step three: smoke another joint, knock yourself out before the hunger even has the chance to creep in. Yeah, that sounds like the best plan. Safest plan.

Except now that you’re thinking about it, you can already feel the craving sneaking up on you. The inevitable post-weed munchies lurking in the shadows like a villain in a horror movie. Fuck. Maybe you should eat. But no—because once you start, you won’t stop. You can’t stop. And then you’ll feel gross and sluggish and disgusting and—

Ugh. You sigh, leaning further into the window, fingers mindlessly toying with the hem of your sleeve. Whatever. You’ll figure it out once you get home.

The night unfolds exactly how you planned—steam from the shower still clinging to your skin, the familiar burn of a joint settling deep in your lungs, and the blissful haze wrapping around you like a weighted blanket. You take a slow sip of ice-cold water, the contrast sending a shiver down your spine, and think to yourself—this. This is life.

And then—bang, bang, bang.

A knock.

Your high flickers, annoyance settling in its place. Because seriously—who the fuck is knocking at your door at almost one in the morning?

For a second, you think about ignoring it. Pretending you don’t exist. But the devil’s got a firm grip on your curiosity, and you’ve never been one for peace, so with a sigh, you drag yourself to the door.

Then—you freeze.

Your lips part. Your fingers tighten around the key. Your eyes widen, brain stalling, heart slamming against your ribs.

You stare.

Like full-on, eyes-wide, mouth-parted, completely-frozen-in-place stare.

Because there, standing in your doorway like some kind of MDMA trip you did NOT expect, is Gojo Satoru.

Your brain short-circuits.

Your lungs forget how to breathe.

Your high? Completely obliterated.

The joint nearly slips from your fingers as you blink at him, half-expecting him to vanish like some hallucination from the very obviously laced weed you must’ve smoked.

But no. He’s still there.

Tall, annoyingly gorgeous, standing outside your door like this is totally normal and not some end-of-the-world-level event.

He tilts his head, looking at you with something unreadable in those ridiculous, neon-blue eyes.

“Hey.”

Your jaw clenches. “If this is a sleep paralysis episode, I’m gonna kill myself.”

His lips twitch—like he’s actually fighting a smile.

“Gonna invite me in?”

You squint. “Did you just walk out of an episode of The Originals? Do I need to say no so I don’t get murdered in my sleep?”

Gojo sighs, shaking his head. “Still dramatic, I see.”

“Says the guy showing up at my door at one in the fucking morning.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks at you, gaze flicking over your face, lingering in that Gojo way that makes your stomach tighten.

Something feels off. Not just the fact that he’s here, but the way he’s standing, the way he’s looking at you. Like he’s hesitating. Like he doesn’t quite know why he’s here either.

And for some reason, that’s what unsettles you the most.

“…What do you want?” You finally ask, voice quieter, less biting.

He exhales, like he’s been waiting for you to say that.

And then—

“Can we talk?”

Your fingers tighten around the doorframe.

The rational part of you screams to slam the door in his face.

Yet, you don’t.

And you let him in.

A stranger in your new zone—a stranger in your new life. That's what he is.

You glance at him again, watching as he casually picks through your shelves, fingers skimming over old books, useless trinkets, and dust that you really should’ve cleaned after your mom’s last visit. He’s observing, calculating—like he’s trying to piece together the version of you that lives here. It pisses you off.

“This pic’s nice,” he finally says, pointing at that photo. The ridiculous one of you and Ren, the one where Gojo was accidentally caught in the corner, slightly blurred, like an afterthought. His lips twitch, like he wants to smile, but instead, he just states, “Didn’t think you’d put it here.”

“Well, I put it here because Ren’s in it. Don’t get any wrong ideas,” you snap, plopping onto the floor and relighting your joint—the one that he ruined by showing up unannounced.

“Didn’t get any,” he shrugs. “But now that you mention it…”

You throw him a glare, but he’s already making himself at home, sinking into your sofa instead of joining you on the floor like a normal person. Too good for the ground, too elegant to sit among the peasants. Pathetic.

“So what do you want?” you sigh, exhaling smoke like it’s the last bit of patience leaving your body.

“Pass it along,” he nods towards the joint between your fingers.

You look at him like he just suggested a murder-suicide pact. “As if I’d share my baby with you. I might catch some disease from your saliva.” You fake a shiver for emphasis, wrinkling your nose.

Gojo smirks, the kind that used to make your heart do stupid things. “That logic doesn’t work, babe. You were never scared of sharing saliva with me. In fact, if I remember correctly, you enjoyed it very much.”

“That was before you fucked any breathing organism on this planet.”

“Same could be said for you,” he counters smoothly, and you scoff, but the worst part is—you can’t even argue.

Still, without looking at him, you extend your arm, passing him the joint with the same enthusiasm as someone handing off a bomb. Your fingers don’t touch. Not even a single graze. Because that would be too weird. Too weird. Too much.

"So now that you're in my apartment, and for some unknown reason, I’m sharing my most beloved possession with you, would you care to elaborate why you’re showing up at my door after five years?" You exhale slowly, letting the smoke swirl around you like a ghost of your past self—one that would’ve already melted under his gaze.

You observe him, and instantly, you feel pathetic. Like a complete loser.

Because sitting across from you, legs spread, muscles stretching against the fabric of his shirt, the joint you so carefully rolled resting lazily between his fingers—Gojo Satoru looks like he just walked straight out of a goddamn wet dream.

His eyes are hooded, specks of red dancing in the endless ocean of his irises. He looks down at you, cocks his head slightly, his jaw flexing like he’s thinking. Like he’s calculating.

Fuck.

“I wanted to talk,” he finally says.

You scoff, rolling your eyes, shifting just enough to mask the way your skin is heating under his stare. "Well yeah, I already assumed that." Your voice drips with irritation—partly because he still hasn’t gotten to the point, but mostly because he looks so fucking edible right now, and that’s just unfair.

“Can you just shut the fuck up for a second and let me finish?”

"Fine."

"That's not shutting up."

"Just talk, no need to drag this out like some goddamn drama."

You take another drag, acting like you’re completely unaffected, like your pulse isn’t hammering in your throat, waiting for the words that are about to leave his lips.

“Ugh,” he groans, and it sends a wave through your body that you’ll never admit to anyone—not even yourself. His sigh hangs in the air for a moment, heavier than the smoke curling lazily between your fingers.

“I wanted to say sorry,” he continues, his voice surprisingly soft—like he’s trying to dig his way out of a hole you didn’t even know he was in. “For saying that in front of everyone. It was… too much, I admit. I wouldn’t want anyone poking at my struggles in front of other people, so yeah, I’m sorry.”

You blink at him, and your glare deepens, as if your eyes are laser beams trying to cut through whatever bullshit he’s trying to feed you.

“It’s not like I’m struggling or anything,” you bite out, pulling a long drag from the joint as your words slice through the air like a knife. “You just offended me for no damn reason. You’re sitting here doing the same shit, and yet I’m the junkie?”

The air around you feels thick, the smoke now hanging like a heavy veil between you, but you keep your eyes locked on his.

“C’mon, we both know what you’re doing isn’t occasional,” he says, leaning forward just slightly, eyes narrowing as he looks at you like he can see through every little defense you’ve built. “Yeah, I’m smoking now. Will I smoke in another week, month? Probably not. Will you smoke tomorrow? Yeah.”

His words hit you harder than you care to admit, like a sharp twist in your gut. You feel the heat rise in your chest, but your jaw clenches and you force yourself to hold it together. You can’t let him have this, not now.

The joint burns out, forgotten between your fingers, and for a second, everything feels too still. His gaze is locked on you, like he's waiting for something—anything—from you, but you hate it. You hate the way he looks at you like he’s got the upper hand.

“I’m not addicted, if that’s what you’re implying,” you hiss, voice sharp and bitter as you flick the ashes away. “I can stop whenever. I just don’t want to.”

You can feel the tension in the air between you both, like something is ready to snap—but you’re not sure if you’re ready to break just yet.

“Do your parents even know you didn’t stop?”

His words hit like a punch to the gut, and you feel your heart drop into your stomach. It’s a question he already knows the answer to, and that’s what makes it cut deeper. He’s not just asking—he’s digging.

The air between you freezes for a second, the question echoing in your head as if it’s bouncing off the walls of your mind. Your pulse spikes, fast and unrelenting, and you can feel the thud of your heartbeat in every part of your body, like it’s rattling your bones.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn, voice low, but sharp as a blade, pointing a finger at him like a threat you don’t even know if you can follow through on. But it doesn’t matter—he’s already crossed a line.

“I won’t,” he replies, his tone cold, almost indifferent. “I’m well past trying to be the mediator between you and them. Whatever lie you’ve built in your pretty white picket fence for them is on you.”

You grit your teeth, fighting the sting of his words. You want to snap back—tell him he doesn’t know anything, that he has no right to bring up your family, to bring up your choices—but you can’t. Not now. Not when he’s got that smug look on his face.

“Good,” you bite out, forcing a tight smile. “Finally, you’ve learned not to meddle in other people’s business.”

The silence that follows is thick, like you’ve both just drawn invisible lines in the sand, but neither of you is willing to cross them.

“I have,” he mutters, eyes locked onto yours, his voice unusually steady.

“Good for you,” you scoff, shifting your weight, trying to ignore the way your pulse picks up under his gaze.

He exhales sharply through his nose. “You know, people learn best from their mistakes.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Oh, is that what this is? You finally learning?”

His eyes flick over you, slow, assessing, like he’s picking apart every piece of you. It makes your skin crawl—not because it’s uncomfortable, but because it’s too comfortable. Too familiar. But he blinks, looks away, and the moment dissolves before you can dwell on it.

“What I did back then wasn’t a mistake,” he says, tone even but laced with something heavier. “And you know that. You’re just too damn proud to admit it.”

You stiffen, biting back the words threatening to spill out. You refuse to go there. Not with him.

“But whatever,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t come here to rehash the past. I just—” He hesitates for a split second before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For what I said earlier. It was out of line.”

Something in his expression makes your breath catch. His voice is softer, lacking its usual bite. He actually means it. And that pisses you off.

You exhale, tilting your head slightly. “Okay. I don’t accept your apology.”

His lips twitch, but his eyes darken. “Of course you don’t.”

“You’re not actually sorry. You just want to sleep better at night.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Jesus. You really think that?”

You glare at him. “I know that.”

His jaw clenches, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knee. “You know what? Forget it. You were never good at talking about shit back then, and from the looks of it, nothing’s changed.”

“Then leave.” The words slip out harsher than you intended, but you don’t take them back.

“I was going to.”

But neither of you move.

A second passes. Then another. It stretches out like an eternity, the two of you locked in a silent staring contest, as if whoever looks away first loses something bigger than just the moment. Gojo doesn’t budge, arms crossed, face unreadable.

Then, with a slow exhale, he brushes off his knees, like he’s physically dusting away whatever just happened. And then—he stands.

“Finally,” you mutter under your breath, standing as well, because for once, it seems like he’s actually going to leave.

You trail behind him as he moves toward the door, careful not to make too much noise, as if a single misstep might make him stay. It’s ridiculous. But better safe than sorry.

You unlock the door, the sound echoing too loud in the sudden quiet of your apartment. The fridge hums in the background, the TV murmurs some mindless reality show dialogue. But beyond all of that, you hear it—his breathing. Yours. Mixing together in a rhythm that shouldn’t feel as familiar as it does.

Gojo steps outside. No glance back, no final words, no obligatory thanks for having me or even a half-assed bye. Just quiet, lazy steps, his silhouette shrinking as he disappears down the dimly lit hallway.

Soon, the last traces of him—his scent, his presence, the weight of his words—will fade. And everything will go back to normal.

Like he was never here at all.

"You like Yumi’s new necklace?" His voice is distant, almost careless, but you know him too well. There’s something lurking beneath his words—something sharp, something cruel.

He doesn’t stop walking, doesn’t even turn fully to face you. Just a glance over his shoulder, catching you standing in the doorway, frozen like a deer in headlights. He’s already a few feet away, but somehow, he feels closer than ever—like he’s standing inside your chest, pressing down on something fragile.

Your breath catches, barely noticeable, but he notices. His lips twitch, just slightly. He looks satisfied.

You force yourself to breathe. To smile. To wear the same indifferent mask you’ve spent years perfecting. "Yeah," you say, voice smooth, steady. "But I think it suits the original owner better." Your arms cross tightly over your chest, a poor shield against the way your stomach twists.

Gojo scoffs, turning away. "Sure," he says, voice light, mocking. "If that makes you feel better about yourself."

And just like that, he’s walking away again—like this conversation meant nothing, like you mean nothing.

You don’t let yourself react. Not until you’re inside, the door locked, the world shut out.

Then, everything collapses.

Your knees buckle, your body folding into the couch like it’s the only thing holding you together. Your breath comes too fast, too shallow, and your hands are shaking—clenched so tight they hurt. You tell yourself not to cry, but your body betrays you, tears slipping past your lashes before you can stop them.

It was always yours, you try to convince yourself. He’s just trying to hurt you. He just wants a reaction.

But the truth is suffocating.

Just like Gojo hasn’t been yours for years, that delicate four-leaf pendant gracing Yumi’s neck isn’t yours anymore either.

And it doesn’t matter what you do, how much you fight it—because Gojo Satoru has always known exactly how to ruin you.

And he never even has to try.

taglist: @zeunys @charmstarr @ovela @kur0mii3 @dabisdolly @17362939 @krispywhisperswhispers @mintcheery @kazupop @heh123321 @hanakotateyama @choppersworlds-blog @eneiyri

[mochiwrites]

I would like to offer some Scarian silliness. Specifically them being absolute gremlins in Double Life.

The life series started out scary with 3rd Life. None of them really understood what was happening and they didn't know what would happen after if anything. Then life continues on like normal. Scar and Grian have time to work through the scare that was the end of 3rd Life. But now they know. It's something the Watchers put together and it isn't permanent. Okay. That's a bit rude, but maybe they can work with that. Scar and Grian decide not to team up in Last Life, mostly so they can figure out what they want to do with these series for themselves. They live each other and will always be the other's partner in crime, but sometimes you gotta find your own mojo. This sparks a Watcher intervention in Double Life. They're too much fun when together. Too chaotic not encourage. The problem is that Scar and Grian are their own agents of chaos. They enable each other sure, but you can't really demand any Hermit do something. They're all a little contrary like that. So they don't mind that they're teamed up. On the contrary they were rather hoping to, but on their own terms. They're both a bit annoyed that the Watchers are trying to force it. Grian already has a personal grudge with them and Scar is inclined to fight them at every turn too. So Grian gets an idea. Secret Soulmates just to stick it to the Watchers. And Scar, ever an agent of chaos himself, is fully on board with it. He loves drama! And they both think BigB is a great guy and know he can be trusted with a bit. The Life Series is basically their playground for drama now that they understand the stakes and it's all aboutiruining Watcher plans where they can.

Bonus points if it's Secret Husbands. BigB may have been brought in on things to the sake of annoying the Watchers, but he's not a Hermit so he can't bring that insight to Hermitcraft afterwards. Ren isn't too bothered by it once everything is said and done because he can recognize a bit a mile away. But what about Scar!? He's such a good and Grian was galavanting with BigB when they were supposed to be partners! So while Grian and Scar are busy cackling about how they stuck it to the Watchers, the other Hermits are just so worried about how oblivious Grian is to Scar's pining.

Long story short I think Double Life is funniest when Scarian are being goofy little contrarians who just don't like being told what to do so they invent drama instead

GHFGHFDJGKHG I LOVE ALL OF THIS YES WHEEZE

double life truly is the best when it's just scar and grian being mischievous little shits and purposefully do the opposite of what they're supposed to. just because they can JDHGFJHGFJGH

also it's hilarious to envision this in secret husbands au oh my god yeah

[fuctacles]

Eddie Munson Collectible

For @subeddieweek Day 4 | T | 1115 | transfem Steve, playing dress up, fluff, established relationship, Eddie in a dress :3 and I've included a lil doodle | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

"What are you doing?"

Eddie jumps a foot in the air at the sudden intrusion, grasping at his chest. 

"Fuck!" he yelps, eyes bulging at his girlfriend, who suddenly appeared at the doorframe, leaning casually against it and observing his antics. 

It's not like she was being stealthy, and his music wasn't turned up that loud either. He was just too preoccupied with whatever he was doing to notice her coming back home.

And that thing seemed to be trying on Stephanie's dresses. 

"You scared the shit out of me. Do you want me to die?" he wheezes. But she doesn't care about his heart right now. What she cares about are his hairy shins sticking out from her yellow summer dress. 

"Were you playing dress up without me?" she asks, raising her eyebrow. 

Eddie gulps, grabbing the flowy fabric absentmindedly. 

"Uh, yeah? I was kinda curious how it feels."

Stevie is silent for too long, but when he looks up, all he sees is her glowing smile. 

"Well, why didn't you say so?" she asks cheerfully.

She steps into their bedroom and opens their wardrobe wider. She hums and ahhs until she finds the thing she's looking for, pulling it from between the flowing fabric. 

"I got this one because it reminded me of you. It's not really my style, you know."

It wasn't and he thought as well when he first saw it but you don't question your girlfriend's wardrobe choices, especially when it took her so long to get comfortable in dresses. Stephanie preferred flowy, girly clothes with puffs, lace, and gathered fabric. This was a black, off-shoulder bodycon with flowy, Stevie Nicks-type sleeves.

"Well?"

Eddie looks in the mirror, where he's drowning in the sheer volume of Stevie's puffy sleeves, and the sunny yellow fabric clashes with his pale skin. He nods.

"Okay, let's do it."

Stevie's grin is so wide he's afraid for the well-being of her cheeks. (He'd kiss them better if needed, of course.) She hovers over him, impatiently helping him unzip the dress he has on so he can change. 

"You weren't so excited the first time we had sex," he murmurs under his breath, muffled by the fabric he's pulling over his head. She hears it though, and slaps his arm, almost making him lose his balance due to his immobilized state. 

"I've had sex before, but never saw the man I love wear something so pretty for me."

Eddie blushes instantly, reaching for the dress held up for him. They've said the L-word before but it overwhelmed him a little bit every time. He felt like he'd never be over the fact he was dating such a beautiful girl. So bitchy, sporty, and yet interested in his hobbies. 

He was the happiest man alive, so what was letting her play with him like he was a doll? She didn't have it in her childhood so Eddie would be happy to provide now.

The fabric has a lot of give, so he doesn't feel trapped in it despite what his reflection suggests. More like snugly wrapped. It's short, pulling up above his knees, and the line of his collarbones looks extra bony when displayed like that. His shoulders aren't very wide, but the contrast of his pale skin to the skin-tight blackness makes them pop out more. And the sleeves...

He can't contain his glee and starts flapping them before Stevie has the chance to fully zip him up. They are long and flowy and fun.

"It's like my ren faire shirt," he says, spreading his arms to see the full extent of the fabric. "Heh, I feel like a bat." He grins up at his girlfriend and finds her eyes sparkling with joy too.

"You look like a princess," she offers instead. He seems appalled at the comparison.

"But you're the princess," he points out with a pout. His arms never stop moving the fabric. 

"Nuh-uh." Stevie shakes her head. "I'm a queen."

Eddie huffs, putting his hands on his hips dramatically. 

"You know these are two different titles. It's not hierarchised."

Stevie rolls her eyes. 

"What's the rule, baby?" she asks, eyebrows raised. Eddie sighs.

"No nerd talk in the bedroom unless we're role-playing," he recites.

"Correct. Now be a good doll and spin," she instructs, making a circling motion with her finger. Eddie does so, the sleeves swooshing around him. "You look so hot," she says with a groan. 

Eddie stops to eye himself in the mirror. He should probably take off the socks he was still wearing, they weren't a fitting addition to a dress. 

"I should lose the socks," he says out loud, looking for confirmation. 

"Sit down," Stevie instructs immediately. He takes a couple of steps back to sit on the edge of the bed and she kneels in front of him to pull off his socks for him. She kisses his bony knees while she's there. "You're so pretty," she says, looking up at him. "And all mine to play with."

Eddie's heart thuds harder at the double meaning. He pushes her face away, groaning.

"Stooop!" 

She giggles, falling back to lean on her hands. Her loving gaze is still on him.

"Can I? Please."

Eddie huffs.

"Of course you can." What a silly question.

He'd never deny her anything. So he lets her sit behind him and brush his hair back, style it up to uncover his neck, and frame his face. Lets her swap his hoop earrings for a pair of dangling roses and put lipgloss on his lips. All the time he's facing the mirror, watching himself being pampered with care and love.

Once she's done, Stevie wraps her arms around him and leans over his shoulder to face the mirror as well.

"My pretty metal doll. Collector's edition."

Eddie snorts. 

"Don't laugh. This shit is priceless," she scolds.

"I should have never told you about collectible figurines," he sighs.

"Too late. Now I'm hooked."

She put her fingers under his chin to guide him into a kiss. It's a soft caress at first, but soon he gives in, leaning into her warm chest to get consumed. He sucks on her tongue like it's the only thing keeping him alive and sighs into her mouth when her hands wander, giving extra attention to his exposed collarbones and thighs. She leaves a trail of goosebumps on the insides of his thighs and he knows the tight dress will hide nothing.

Stevie squeezes his sides before parting, giving his lips one last lick, and finds him in a daze, eyes blown and under her spell. The prettiest doll to play with.

"How do you feel about wearing heels?"

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 16

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Hello! Another day, another chapter!

I really don't have much to ramble about today, but I am back on my tea. This is a new one from the ren faire this year- vanilla chai with sugar and milk. The cup is from the same ren faire (but purchased last year).

let's go let's let's go- I am already impatient to get into this chapter.

Last chapter we ended on a cliffhanger with Luo Binghe totally unconscious- we start this chapter with Shen QIngqiu ready to rescue his man and escape!

It's really so upsetting that he is going back to trash (two bar) spiritually energy in this body when he was so used to his mushroom Unlimited Power p65

RIP Luo Binghe's skull LOL he is really being tossed around like a rag doll. SQQ needs to be more careful. p66

MXTX said forget the only one bed trope, I raise you -> There Was Only One Coffin p67

Fuck. This is actually so scary 10/10 I would pee myself if a little skeletal arm was worming it's way into the coffin I was temporarily occupying (really anything in this book's reality would make me die of fright. as an aside I was talking to my partner about this while watching MDZS donghua yesterday, in the world of cultivators I would be a dumpling stall owner. I could never with the sword training and literal corpses). pp67-68

I CANT 'extenuating circumstances'. SQQ definitely: I just HAD to kiss his cute little forehead to save our lives. p68

i'm crying LOL "a person's abdomen is supposed to be the softest spot on their body, but Luo Binghe's was uncomfortably hard against Shen Qingqiu's stomach. The farther down he pulled him, the more he was sure that Luo Binghe had an eight-pack. Was that a rock slab down there?" p70

this keeps getting worse LMAO

OOOOO Meng Mo is back! Is it weird that I kind of love this guy? He has such a cool power and is a bit of a dick, but in the best and worst of ways. Him and Airplane give similar energy and I am not mad about it. p72

oh gosh! LBH is either "fatally ill" or "close to death" p72

wait- adding to the above point. he could also be mentally very unwell :( poor buddy -> it's likely this option. p72

so even though SQQ is processing nothing , I think SQQ admitting (not naming the feeling but admitting) that he is feeling a mess of emotions about Luo Binghe is a big step for him! p73

Meng Mo seems to have a lot of feelings about LBH. I am not sure if it's just pride or what but whatever it is he is correct here, "The way this elder sees it, he (LBH) should either kill you (SQQ) or do you!" p74

PLEASE OH NO

I AM WHEEZING

+1000 Protagonist Satisfaction Points for touching LBH's "Heavenly Pillar" p76

IM DYING OH NO

WHY IS THIS EVEN A THOUGHT IF HE THINKS HE'S STRAIGHT "He couldn't exactly help Luo Binghe jerk off under these circumstances, right?!" p76 But like if not these circumstances he is cool with doing it in other circumstances???????????

oh no! SQQ blocking the blades with his bare hand for LBH p79

Dang. the Old Palace Master has been through some shit. p80

Are we getting more of Shen jiu's story??? We have Qiu Haitang here too! p81 (just as an aside because my notes did not revisit this, we do not get more of his story just weird little hints. That I hope Shang Qinghua clears up later). p81

What a terrible combo. Old Palace master is just butthurt Luo Binghe doesn't want him as a teacher or to marry his daughter and Qiu Haitang seems to be just a vile woman with a grudge against SQQ for some reason. pp82-83

Okay but as horrible as OPM is, that cultivation he's doing with his voice is kind of cool. p85

Wait. Did the Old Palace Master have a thing for Su Xiyan? This is so fucking weird for LBH and he's not even conscious pp86-87

reading further the above point got so much worse omg :(((((((((((( I'm so upset for Su Xiyun. p87

It got even worse with the implications of what it meant for Luo Binghe in that sect. That terrible terrible man deserved that horrifying death. Fuck that guy! pp 89-90

OMG SQQ, basically half dead carrying LBH, barely got away from the death flower room, and here we have Tianglang-jun back on his bullshit. p94

SQQ is in such a bad state :o pp94-95

Is this another dime??? Our demon blood piggy bank for SQQ is now at $0.40 p97

YAY! Luo Binghe is awake! (is he going to be okay mentally though??)p 99

Why is Luo Binghe so mad? Like this man just nearly died trying to get you the fuck out of there p100

Fucking finally okay, it got better LBH is realizing what SQQ did while he was unconscious pp102-103

I'm glad they cleared that up (even though there was the other added miscommunication about LBH thinking SQQ was crying when he was actually just in a fuck ton of pain). p104

I am actually so glad that the discussion was interrupted before LBH found out about the dick touching being real LOL p108

MORE DEMON BLOOD. -> SQQ's dime bank is at $0.50

How many times does this man get kidnapped?

We really ended with him being kidnapped again and with Luo Binghe being conned by his own dad. That was so rough. -500 dignity points (not really but it sure feels like it)

[lucky-lucky-duck]

🎏 — all good! just wanna check in 🫡 and speaking of sauce, i can see Ren pocketing sauce packets and randomly snacks on them lol

c u r s e d. What kind of sauce packets? Because my ass is assuming that you just implied that Ren just casually slurps on ketchup packets. Omg, Ren eating mayonnaise packets that he just keeps in his pockets-- I'm unwell.

In honor of our new symbiotic relationship, have the ed ideas that I had to scrap from the snapshot drafts because there was no way to even remotely imply a romantic relationship... Under the cut, because the second one is... a little yucky. Edit to clarify: I accuse Ed of pissing in bottles. Not in a kinky way.

Edward Hart ? Obscuary student!reader

Surviving Mornings:

"My brother in Christ, it is a fucking toaster," you wheeze, looking worse for wear as you watch your slightly pathetic/legendary-immortal-beast house captain attempt to navigate a basic kitchen appliance. "There are only two buttons, man. If one doesn't toast the fucking bread, push the other, holy fuck. Please--just watch me this time."

Helping him clean his room: (Based on a specific line in episode 6. "Mysterious liquid" my entire ass; that was a piss bottle, brother. Okay, a few clicks later it was described as "viscus". So it was probably congealed blood or something but I was in Schrodinger's hell for a hot minute. I had a lot of questions after that and I provide only the most cursed answers possible.)

"Ohmygod," you cry, dropping the bottle to the ground. You hold your hand as far away from you as possible, the disgust nearly bringing you to tears. You shoot Edward a withering glare and make a mental note to buy Rui some lunch from Sho's food truck tomorrow for having put up with him alone for so long. "You're 400ish years old. This? Tragic. I want hazard pay." "Oh, do calm down. It's hardly the same as your human equivalent. Think of it more as... excess sweat." His hand waves you off in a lazy motion, as though his response doesn't leave you with more questions than before. "All love and light, what the fuck," you hesitate, almost afraid to get an answer, "do you mean by that?"

[cyanide-latte]

So I'm not sure to what extent this will surprise you, but MY initial gut instinct was to go for Ren. I do love me a soft silent type who cares a shitton for their partner. The homies who know me from my Tales days know that one of my first ever anime crushes was Regal Bryant. And while Ren is very different from Regal, I would say they both fall into the same archetype- one that I would romance over... and over... and over... and over again. A romance route with Ren is like a comfort show or a comfort game you play whenever you need a safe haven. And I would keep going back to that route any time I needed to feel something good again.

Naturally, at some point I WOULD play through Copper's route- at least once. You know I love a trauma filled narrative that ends with freedom. I love me some hurt/comfort. I love me some expansive adventure. I would play his route at LEAST once just to get that happy ending.

But...

When I thought that would be my plain and simple answer, someone ELSE knocked down my door. And its BOTH Xinyi and Chrys. At the same time. Potentially as a polycule route. And both of them are staring at me like.... "uh huh, no you aren't gonna pretend like you arent interested in either of us. Quit lying "

And I am... beside myself.

I guess this is to say- hi. I love your OCs LOL

So I remember the Tales days and I hadn't considered the similarities between Ren and Regal (in terms of a specific archetype) before but that does make a lot of sense, and I dig it. And I think you're right on the money there too: Ren's route would be very comforting in general but I agree that it probably would have a high replayability, especially if it's an archetype you already love to romance. I think it also helps that while Ren often falls naturally into a habit of caring a lot for his partner(s), he'll also rely on them and will encourage mutual support of each other.

I adore that you'd want to play Copper's route at least once, and again, I think you've hit the nail on the head there! Lots of adventure, trauma that ends with freedom and that assurance things are going to get better and healing has already begun, and plenty of hurt/comfort along the way!

WHEEZE

Okay but listen LISTEN

Chrys and Xinyi WOULD be a package deal with a polycule route. You would end up with both even if you just romance one. And they WOULD kick in the door (or more likely, Xinyi hit the door so hard it broke off the hinges and Chrys lifted his technomantic leg like "it's okay bby I gotchu, I'll say I meant to do that") to announce that to you. Especially Chrys. Come on. We both know he's the driving force behind calling that out.

[frozenjokes]

third life/wings of fire fic snippet - takes place directly after Grian’s triple kill - watcher lore - Grian and Martyn can read minds, thoughts are indicated with italics - fic link in pinned post!

It was Grainshifter that cackled, that shrieked, when he saw it out of the corner of his eye. The shaking earth, his ringing ears, and the endless plumes of smoke; it was magnificent. It’s everything I imagined it would be.

Grainshifter heard Scott yelp, launching himself forward toward the explosion site and yelling for the scavenger. But Jimmy was gone. Skizz was gone. Ren was gone. Red. Red. Yellow. Grainshifter laughed; he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t breathe. He knew the taste of shock, of fear, but never had he hunted- killed- no. Earned it. He wanted more. He needed more. Anything for more of this feeling.

Martyn came running out of Dogwarts first, horror painted all over his face. Fire and cacti spines littered the ground. Scott searched with great urgency for a friend that would never be the same, whining as needles stuck into his talons. But Martyn wasn’t looking at Scott, even when the other Seawing shot him a pained stare. No. Martyn’s head was angled up at him. Grainshifter laughed, eyes wide and manic, as Martyn’s face paled. Scott was pale as well, and BigB, and-

“Grian.” Scar wheezed, placing a hand on his shoulder. His grip was weak, arm shaky. “You’re.. scaring me.”

Grainshifter caught his breath as he turned to face him, but his control escaped him once more as he met Scar’s frightened eyes. “That’s not my name.”

A heavy talon, familiar now, rammed into his back, the other slamming into the back of his head and forcing his face into the dirt.

“Stop it!” Martyn snarled, digging his claws into Grainshifter’s head and forcing his snout to the side, “Look at what you’re doing.” But he could only stare back at Martyn, the color having returned completely to his face.

What makes you immune to me? WHAT is it?!

“Fine then. I’ll make you stop.”

Grainshifter’s nostrils flared before Martyn squeezed his talons over them, latching his snout shut in the same motion and blocking his airways. He let out a guttural scream and thrashed, knocking Martyn off balance, but not off his face. The two dragons twisted around as Grainshifter fought for air, but as darkness faded in at the edges of his vision, he felt another set of claws on his side, helping Martyn to keep him still.

YOU CAN’T ESCAPE US. YOU CAN’T ESCAPE US. YOU CAN’T ESCAPE. Grainshifter’s grip on their fear, on their minds, began to slip. Something else slipped as well, something at the back of his mind, retreating. Its absence made him empty. Exhausted. He closed his eyes. If this was his end, he didn’t have the energy to fight anymore.

Martyn let him go and Scar followed suit. Grian stole short, gasping, breaths, but his neck wouldn’t support his head and his body wouldn’t stand up. He could only lay. He could only breathe.

“Are you okay?” Martyn turned to Scar and BigB, eyebrows set in a strained concern. His voice felt far away. Everything felt far away.

“I don’t understand. What just happened? Who was that?” Scar whispered. Grian felt his eyes boring into him.

“What do you mean,” Martyn snorted, “That’s what Nightwatchers do. Take your fear, your everything, until you have nothing left, until you’re sick and dying. He doesn’t care about you, Scar.”

“No. That wasn’t Grian. He said just as much.”

“Grian isn’t real. That dragon is fake. Made up. His real name is Grainshifter. That’s who he identifies with when he’s not pretending to be a Skywing. That’s what he was on about.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What do you mean you don’t believe me,” Martyn growled, spines raising, “You saw what he just did. You felt his teeth in your brain. Are you really that naive-“

“Will everyone STOP calling me that,” Scar snapped, teeth inches away from Martyn’s face. Martyn didn’t flinch. Scar growled, huffing before backing off.

“Are you guys going to tell me what you’re talking about or..” BigB looked from each dragon to the other, sheepish.

“No. Take your cookie back, I don’t want it anymore,” Scar flipped it BigB’s way with his snout, making the dark purple Seawing jump back. Wings twitching, Scar made his way to Grian, nudging his arm. “It’s time to go. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Scar, I don’t want to be Grainshifter,”

“That’s fine, Grian.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. Just drop it.”

“Scar, please,” Grian rolled onto his stomach, hardly able to push himself to his feet. In this state, there’d be no forcing his way into Scar’s mind, not even without the barriers the Rainwing had firmly in place.

“Drop it,” Scar snarled, turning to walk in the opposite direction along the cliffside. Just then, Ren jumped up the rock ledge, blocking Scar’s exit with a hearty growl.

“Where do you two think you’re going?”

“Home.” Not another moment passed before Scar lunged forward, checking Ren off the side of the cliff. Grian only caught a glimpse of his shocked face before he disappeared over the edge. Martyn raced forward with a yelp as the large Mudwing crashed down the side of the hill, but let out a deep sigh when Ren got slowly to his feet. Shaky, surely bruised, but alive. Scar kept walking.

“Scar!” BigB shouted, stepping defensively in front of Martyn, “You could have killed him again!”

Scar didn’t look back, but Grian couldn’t resist a glance backwards, head low. Martyn was staring, sharp and jerky as always, but there was something new in those blind eyes. Doubt. Grian felt the familiar discomfort of a dragon searching through his mind, diving below the easy-to-read field of his surface thoughts. He wants to know what happened. He wants to know for sure whether or not Scar’s concerns have any foundation. Whether or not that was me. I’m sorry Martyn. I don’t know either. Martyn blinked, taken aback. Grian frowned. I didn’t mean that. You suck and I hope your next death is just as painful as your first. Martyn gave Grian a small nod, as if wishing him the same fate, and hopped down the rock tumble where Ren now stood without another goodbye.

[whywishesarehorses]

The grulla,9716, has just popped up for sale again. His auction price was $3345. Current owner says:

**Please read the entire post before inquiring**

Casually seeking the perfect home for:

“Renaissance” a three year old grulla gelding from the Triple B HMA. Currently stands at 14.2 hands tall! He is available for reassignment.

I won Renaissance on the January IA and picked him up in Swanzey NH. Although I originally intended to keep him as a personal horse, I decided to shift to a mare herd. Though, I still wanted to welcome Ren to the farm and get him gentled! Having worked with him for a few weeks, progress has been slow but he has improved greatly from Day 1. I have been able to halter him, lunge him at the walk and trot both ways with face ups, I can touch from cheek to tail on both sides, He takes treats from me and does well with R+. He is a very sensitive horse and is twitchy and will leave if you move too quickly. He does not bite or kick. He is a very sweet and curious horse, just very unsure and untrusting.

He is being offered as “ungentled” because I have experimented with fellow clients on my farm and he is very “one person oriented”. He will hide behind me to avoid others, and will not do anything I have been able to do with him with them. With him being so weary, I personally believe his best situation is finding a forever home with his own person to work with and gentle him. This is certainly not an easy decision for me to make, but I truly believe this is the best scenario for him.

That said, I am working daily with him to take him as far as I can! He just needs time to get him where he needs to be.

I want to note I have discovered he has a wheeze particularly when he gets a little snorty. It is intermittent and I am not sure if it will effect him long term or if it will pass. I have communicated with the BLM about the issue and a return to the corrals has been considered. I would prefer to place him in a home before considering sending him back. He is a very special and athletic horse with great potential in a patient home that would be okay with doing light riding with him.

He was not a cheap horse on the IA, and therefore I am asking what I paid for him. This is a wonderful opportunity to get a young and colored horse here in New England. I can haul him as well.

I will gladly have any potential adopter come out and meet him! I can also continue to keep him boarded at my place if timing isn’t quite right. And I will continue to work with him during that time (if requested).

Located in New Hampshire. I would HIGHLY prefer he remains in New England

BLM Mustangs Geldings for Sale - Fallon Maintenance Facility

These horses are part of the January 2024 auction. This is the younger boys - under 5.

3 YEAR OLD GRAY GELDING HORSE (9963) 14.1hh

4 YEAR OLD GRULLA GELDING HORSE (9942) 14.1hh

3 YEAR OLD BAY GELDING HORSE (9914) 14hh

3 YEAR OLD PINTO GELDING HORSE (9804) 13.2hh

3 YEAR OLD SORREL GELDING HORSE (9776)13.1hh

2 YEAR OLD BROWN GELDING HORSE (9731) 12hh

3 YEAR OLD GRULLA GELDING HORSE (9716) 14.1hh

2 YEAR OLD ROANRED GELDING HORSE (9521) 15hh (at TWO???)

3 YEAR OLD BAY GELDING HORSE (6254) 14.1hh

3 YEAR OLD BAY GELDING HORSE (6256) 14.1hh

3 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN GELDING HORSE (6258) 14.2hh

3 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN GELDING HORSE (6261) 15.1hh (and chillll)

3 YEAR OLD SORREL GELDING HORSE (6265) 14hh

3 YEAR OLD SORREL GELDING HORSE (6277) 14.1hh

3 YEAR OLD BAY GELDING HORSE (6278) 13.3hh

3 YEAR OLD BAY GELDING HORSE (6284) 14.1hh

4 YEAR OLD BAY GELDING HORSE (6288) 15hh

4 YEAR OLD BAY GELDING HORSE (6293) 14.2hh

3 YEAR OLD BROWN GELDING HORSE (6300) 15hh

2 YEAR OLD BAY GELDING HORSE (6706) 12.3hh

3 YEAR OLD BAY GELDING HORSE (5054) 14hh

3 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN GELDING HORSE (5055) 14.1hh (I would bid on him)

4 YEAR OLD SORREL GELDING HORSE (5059) 13.3hh

3 YEAR OLD PALOMINO GELDING HORSE (5063) 13.3hh

4 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN GELDING HORSE (5064) 13.2hh

4 YEAR OLD PALOMINO GELDING HORSE (5066) 14.2hh

3 YEAR OLD BUCKSKIN GELDING HORSE (5069) 13.2hh

4 YEAR OLD ROANSTRAWBERRY GELDING HORSE (5078) 14hh

3 YEAR OLD SORREL GELDING HORSE (5081) 14.1hh

3 YEAR OLD SORREL GELDING HORSE (5082) 13.3hh

[doppiodrips]

that mean dom kyo was delicious thank you for the juice and oh lawd a 4some with the moon bros??? i think i will ascend. just- ugh all holes filled?? please please please i wanna read it please make it 🙏🙏🙏

Glad you enjoyed it! ALSO YEAAAA 4SOME MOONBROS Also Aster cross dresses in this, bcs sucking someone's dick with their skirt up is hot idc what anyone says. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ILUNA was hosting an event that all the students were outside attending, they often don't get the chance to go outside onto the massive field to compete against their fellow student body, but no one seemed to notice that their top students were missing. Only person who knew about what they were up to, was you. Everyone knew you four were a thing, but they also didn't know you were the infamous moon bros cocksleeve, ready to please them in whatever way they wanted, and today was one of those days, as the three men have been so stressed as of recently, and you were such a good way to relieve stress! Ren was behind you, fully inside your ass and fucking you at a merciless pace. His was different from the other two, his cock had a bunch of patterns that made every moment like this all the more addictive. "You take it so well.. you really are a slut" He said through the slaps of him fucking you. As much as you wanted to try to deny it to remain some shred of pride, you couldn't respond as you were taking down Aster's cock in your throat, every time you would take more in your throat his skirt would graze against your face.

"M-mm.. h-hahh... your so pretty like this you know? You can take so much more though!!" He gripped your hair and pulled you down further, you moaned against him which caused him to grip your hair even more. "Aww look!! Your cock is dripping!! Don't make such a big mess okay? We don't want others to know what a dirty little whore you are for us!!". All that did was push you further into lust, focusing on nothing but pleasing the three men. Ah right three men. Kyo was busy treating your hands like it was his personal fleshlight, anytime you lost rhythm or got too distracted with Aster or Ren: He slaps your cock "Fucking focus, come on you can keep going" He says while pressing onto your tip, causing you to mewl and clench around Ren tighter, making the alien groan. You kept pumping Kyo's cock, trying to focus on him just so he can keep touching you, you wanted to cum so bad but anytime you got close, Ren would just stay still inside you watching you attempt to bounce on him but with his hands on your hips to keep you still, you couldn't beat him. "Finally your being good" Kyo said through wheezing breaths. Ren continued to speed up from behind you, causing you to moan more against Aster, he pulled you fully against him, grinning at the slight bulge in your throat. "Should we let him cum? Has he been good enough for you two?" Ren said, trying to calm down his breathing. "Y-yes! They'll look so cute all dirty and ruined from us!!!" Aster said while moaning loudly, he always seemed to enjoy this no matter what you did to him. Kyo grabbed your cock and started to pump it, trying to copy them rhythm of Ren's thrusts. Ren thrusted faster, almost as if he's trying to compete with Kyo. The familiar feeling in your stomach started up, it was nearly burning you, you were so lost in the feeling of the three boys using you like a toy, you could tell all three of them were getting close, since Kyo was pumping you an a insane pace, with Ren trying to follow suit, Aster was gripping onto your hair to hold you in place. Soon enough, you moaned against the bi haired male, arching your back causing the bulge in your stomach to become more prominent, and you finally came, the floor under you stained with your juices. Not long after, the three men came all over you, Aster's cum was dripping down your chin as you struggle to swallow it all down. Kyo's cum completely covered your hands while Ren slowly pulled out of you, admiring the amount of liquid dripping out of you, all three got up and looked down at you: Covered in their and your own fluids. Aster gripped your chin, making you look him in the eyes: "Don't worry my star, we'll clean you up so well!!" ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N: I believe in dick drunk Aster tbh.. maybe that'll be my next Aster fic Also XSOLEIL men foursome soon, along with a late Ike birthday special!

[allovertheplace-writing]

nervously shuffles in- Hi Rosie! I saw your post about wanting Persona asks so um,, Could I have some Best Boy Ryuji with a sort of soft and shy s/o? But the second someone talks bad about him they are ready to FIGHT? If not no worries! Hope you're doing well! ♥

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Persona 5

Character(s): Ryuji

Genre: Fluff

Type: Headcanon

Description: Ryuji's, usually, soft and shy s/o suddenly threatens someone when they say something rude about him

Warning(s): Vague Mentions of Violence(Very Light), One Swear(Very Light), Threats(Reader to a Rude Stranger), Joker is Mentioned(As Ren, I Use Both his Names Interchangeably), Light Hearted in General(Not Meant to be Taken Seriously)

Lin, hello!! I am doing quite well, thanks for asking! How about you? I hope you're doing good <3

ALSO, THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING RYUJI- he is the best! The urge to smother him in love is very strong />o</

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Being around you was calming yet equally exciting

If the both of you decided to go to the arcade for a date, he would manage to pull a certain competitiveness from you

Ryuji absolutely loved it since it meant you were having fun

But, sometimes, when the date was over, someone would ruin the airy, soft bubble

Either by a glance or a muttered insult, you both saw and heard it all the same

Somedays it was easier to ignore, especially with him by your side

Today though..

"Excuse me, but I think you need to check yourself."

"What?"

"Hey, it's okay, (Y/n)."

Ryuji wanted to diffuse the situation, there wasn't any need to get up in arms about him

"I'm use to-"

"But you shouldn't be! Now, you, sir. Apologize to him."

"..or else I won't hesitate."

Ryuji sputtered

"Geez, alright! I'm sorry, god."

The random guy wasted no time in walking away, all while mumbling about how ridiculous that was

"Shit, (Y/n)!"

Ryuji clutched his stomach as he laughed and wheezed

"I didn't- I didn't think you'd-"

You joined him, laughing just a bit

His smile had always been contagious after all

"Sorry, Ryu, but he really shouldn't have said that..!"

"I-it's okay! I just- you? I didn't think you'd threaten someone, hell, even I have a hard time threatenin'!"

He managed a response as he came down from his outburst

"...ah, well.. when it's you, you know.. I have to?"

There was no hiding his reddening cheeks from you

Despite having the ability to turn away, he knew it'd tell you the same thing

"For.. real? ...gahh, you're too good for me, seriously..!"

He carefully wrapped his hand around your own, scratching his cheek when he turned his attention back to the stores around you

"Anyway, Ren and the others are prolly waiting, we should get goin'!"

Even though he didn't want the time between you to end, he figured it'd be better for his heart in that moment :'D

Well.. and the gang was actually waiting-

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[mochiwrites]

Guess who's back? Back again? Anons back! Tell a friend.

Lol sorry I'm once again back. The same anon who sent a bunch of questions about night life a while ago since I was rereading songbirds blood au. Soo uhm here's more

1. Mochi why does scar say in villainous thing that he has put his head in a werewolfs mouth??!?!?!?!?!? Scar mah dude u ok???? (Lowkey would wanna try it but I probably would leave the werewolfs mouth with a head 😊)

2. Grian.Trans.Canon? (Or scar? Or maybe both???)

3. With the glyphs is there only one way to use them or could you possible make them a tattoo and still you them. Since they are then constantly touching the glyphs they could possible do the magic of a mage. If they had multiple glyphs he could mix the glyphs somehow.(like how Luz mixes the glyphs by drawing them with eachother but instead they do it with their ✨️MIND✨️)

4. Also I love the idea of papapulse. Like I imagine Pearl or grian (most likely grian:^P) and Impulse going full demon mode tl protect them. (I saw that you tagged "Parent impulseSV (Video Blogging RPF)" in troubke in the dead of night🥺👏😍) Also is there different types of demons and what type of powers do they have?

5. In the fic "sitting in the garden at your feet" they have a whole picnic and all the adorableness. Do they go on more picnics frequently? (I really hope soo) I would guess they do since in villainous things they were also on their way to a picnic...but then yeah...poor birb tbh and poor scar

6. Have Ren and Martyn already have their wedding or are they still waiting? I wanna see treebark and I want to see mumbo ask grian go with him as his plus one to the wedding<3

(Though treebark owns my heart, Grumbo will always win) Don't talk about scarian I've never left the desert and don't plan to either😘

7. Okay soo in the fic "weight of living" there was this one scene where etho stared at grian. Here's the quote: "Etho eyes him for a moment, his gaze unreadable as he does so. It leaves Grian with chills. Weird."

Is it possible that etho is a Watcher? I'm mean   he is definitely not human(or maybe he is an immortal human?)  Etho may recognize grian, either as an old Watcher or a new Watcher to be made. Or maybe etho just thinks it is weird to see scar with grian(A HUMAN) The last one is more logical <:^)

8. On that note with Etho. You never confirm nor deny if grian is the "lost watcher" but what if I were to ask you if EFFO is the lost Watcher. I don't have proof but-...yeah idk

Wait wait just had another thought what if Pearl is the Watcher???? When the dream bugs ate her dreams there was a purple mist! Huh huh gotcha!/silly this is purely a joke🤣

9. Will we see a bad boy grian phase or possibly a drag queen phase🥺👉👈. Since it often mention that grian was a dare devil(still is:^P) or did grian have such phases. One of my friends is kinda a dare devil and he did drag once and I feel since grian might be the same there...

10. What did Scott do with the shard? Did he just entirely get rid of it? Also is Scott pure evil or broken. Maybe with the lost of his brother(Xornoth) did he turn evil or was evil just in his genes?

Those are all the questions and theories for now thank you for listing to my literal brain rot<3

This time it was numbered

(There will possible be more to come>:^] )

YIPPEE WELCOME BACK NONNIE :D

see me rubbing my paws together with a big grin >:3c no apologies needed !!!! I love questions hehe. as always, I can't answer everything clearly, because of spoilers but I'll certainly answer as much as I can!

1- WHEEZE scar just feels like the kinda guy to me to stick his head into the mouth of a werewolf for fun, y'know? he'd try it once just to see what would happen (and I mean, he's got no reason to fear dying, all things considered LOL)

2- GRIAN TRANS CANON !! honestly, just operate under the assumption that any grian I write is trans JFGDHFKKJDFG it's my comfort character and I get to project on him /silly (no trans scar though </3)

3- WAUG OKAY -- I've answered this kind of question before but for the life of me I can't find it D: I'm gonna keep searching for it, and when I find it I'll reblog this with that information mjfdhkfghfjg I don't wanna contradict myself LMAO

4- PAPAPULSE MY BELOVED 🥺I really wanna write more with him ueueue. I actually haven't done much world building for sb!demons but I'm going to say that yes, there are different types of demons! and they all have a wide range of different abilities :3

5- they def go on picnics yeah!!! I think it becomes one of grian's default methods to drag mumbo out of the manor when he can <33

6- ren and martyn haven't had their wedding yet :3 I actually hadn't thought about when their wedding would take place but ;w; oh that gives me some ideas....

7- etho isn't a watcher! the current lore is well. no one really knows what etho is. except maybe bdubs and joel. but their lips are Sealed (he's not the lost watcher either I'm afraid </3)

9- so currently I don't have any plans for a bad boy or drag queen phase to pop up in the story (though that could change, if any ideas come up) but they were certainly things he did when he was wayyy younger

10- what scott did with the shard hm? he broke it :) and I'm afraid evil is just in his genes unfortunately </3

hehe thank you for your questions!! :D

[shieldherostuffs]

ren is from a more tech advanced world, right? what if it's also extremely polluted too, like, overworld type. he has many breathing and health issues. hes basically a Frail, Sickly Victorian Child and his party has no clue how hes fighting (they've almost brought him to naofumi many times). do with this what you want

I just got a little Prompt Idea from this :D might elaborate at a later date. Also, I love how you described Ren as a Frail, Sickly Victorian Child.

The air, water, food, earth, basically everything in Ren's world is extremely polluted, like extremely. The stars can't be seen without an observatory because of light and air pollution. Everyone has some sort of chronic disease because of the pollution. Health Care in countries where it isn't free is so expensive most people can't even buy plain old allergy pills or cough medicine.

This includes Ren. He's ok, his family is middle class so they were able to buy food with less than 50% fake ingredients and less than 20% plastic.

The thing is, the world has been like this for so long, no one has any hope for the planet ever surviving the next 2000 years, and this has just become normal.

Now, Ren has been confused as to why it felt so easy and light to breathe once he was summoned. Was this place at a higher altitude or something? And why was it so warm? Even when the sun was out in the middle of a summer day in his world, the highest they got was 10℃.

Much later, during a trip for Team Bonding between the Four Heroes, Ren starts coughing after inhaling a cloud of tree pollen. He says he's okay when his party asks. However, he keep coughing during the next hour, and when he inhales yet more pollen, and his eyes start iching, suddenly he bends over, sounding as if he's trying to hack up his whole lungs.

When he finally finished, there's blood on his lips, chin, and on the grass. As Ren casually stands back up, wiping the blood on his sleeve, he's offered multiple healing potions by his party, despite them never having spent enough time to genuinely worry about his person.

However, he declines all of them, confusing them once again, as this has happened multiple times.

However, this time, it ends up worse. Only a few minutes later, Ren becomes dizzy, but tries to carry one with everyone else, only to fall to the ground, wheezing even as he's passed out.

Quickly, his party calls for help, and everyone else rushes over.

Quickly, Naofumi pushes himself through to look closer at Ren, only to see the teen wheezing on the ground, with a pain expression on his face.

"Does he have Asthma or something..." Naofumi mumbles to himself, before checking Ren over for any wounds or poison, only to find nothing.

However, or pouring more power into checking over Ren's stats and body, he finds something shocking.

(Don't ask me how, but somehow Naofumi can see how polluted Ren's body is.)

"What the hell..." Naofumi mutters to himself, before conjuring up multiple Healing Potions, and a bottle of Holy Water, hoping to at least help a little against all the pollution in Ren's Body.

After getting the teen to drink four bottles of Healing Potion and a bottle of Mid-Level Holy Water, Ren weakly opens his eyes and tries to push himself to sit up, only to fall back into Naofumi's arms.

"Wha..." Ren mumbles, gasping at the clean air, wondering why everyone is worrying about something as normal as coughing up a little blood and passing out for a little while.

"How the hell do you not have Lung Cancer yet?! Your lungs look like you've been smoking daily since you were three!" Naofumi exclaims worriedly, his arms still supporting the weight of Ren's upper body.

"It's... Normal?" Ren rasps out, making one of his party members pull out some water, and handing it over to Ren

"What do you mean it's normal? To have decades-daily smoker lungs as a teenager?!" Naofumi exclaims

"It's... The air is dirty in my world. Everything is polluted. Everyone is sick, and passing out or coughing out of nowhere is normal. You don't need to worry, I'm used to it." Ren explains, schooling his expression into something trying to fit his loner-bad-boy persona

"How the hell are you still fighting then? You should be trying to clean out your lugs and stomach, not fighting with the risk of passing out any second!" Naofumi scolds

"And you guys, have you done anything to help since this has apparently happened before?" Naofumi asks, turning to stare menacingly at Ren's Party

"We... We considered taking him to see you, Sir Shield Hero, multiple times because you're so well-versed in healing. But, Sir Ren refused each time." A girl from Ren's party responded

Naofumi was quiet for a few moments, before speaking up.

"We're going back to the capital this instant. We're not gonna do any of this damn team-building until Ren's better. " Naofumi speaks up, clear authority in his voice

As Naofumi stands up, he quickly bends down again, to swiftly throw Ren over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. While Ren stutters and complains, everyone else keeps quiet, unable to find a reason why they shouldn't prioritize the well-being of the Sword Hero.

—————

Tagging because I really like this concept: @rosesinbloom7love, @zachy-akaya, @maloteddy, @crypid-called-ash, @eli-elien, @tinygenderfluid, @wisdomismyloweststattm, @bluelovestoship

[maybe-your-left]

i wholly believe odin ren is 100000% a mamas boy the wee thing

lets talk about the clingers baby-which means the Ren boys are in competition for affection

SPOILER: Daddy Ren always wins.

TW/CW: NSFW, Odin is a crybaby, Kylo is a crybaby, attention whores, we coddle the boys, oddly sentimental, who is this woman

-------

You were having the most wonderful dream, you were on a beach, bikini-clad. Drinking out of a coconut, basking in the warm sun as it kissed your skin in a delicious tan. When you were awoken by a loud cry, emanating from the door of the master suite.

Behind you, Ren groaned in his slumber. Throwing his beefy arm across your waist as he stirred to life. You opened an eye, seeing the outline of your baby, illuminated by the lights he had turned on downstairs. His blanket in his hand, harsh sniffles between his hiccuping sobs.

"M-mom-m-y," he choked.

Rushing to your bedside, you cringed when he came closer. His face was beet red, stained with tears and snot. Odin was gasping for air, his little hands scrambling under the sheets to find you. He hoisted his body onto the bed, pinning you down. You groaned at the weight, he was getting bigger, and bigger by Ren standards meant he was too heavy for you to cradle.

"What's wrong, baby," you whispered, letting Odin burrow into your chest. His wet cheeks smearing across your bare collarbone, you decided to sleep in the silk pajamas you received for Mother's day, exposing a little too much of your chest.

"Nothing," Ren murmured into your hair, "Other than you're wearing too many clothes."

You threw an elbow into his ribs, causing him to wheeze awake. Mistaking your soothing words for Odin, as words for him. Who was still sobbing into your chest, breathing picking up at the sound of his father waking. "Kylo," you hissed, one look over your shoulder revealed a confused husband. Brow furrowed as he blinked awake, he rolled onto his back. Propping up on his forearms to peer over at the sobbing child, "Odin had a nightmare."

"Hm," he rumbled, "Bubba," Ren whispered to Odin, who was still trembling in your embrace, "What's wrong, why are you up so late?"

Odin sobbed at that, you shot Ren a glare. "I just said he had a nightmare," rolling your eyes you tried to pry Odin off of you. Sitting up in the process, Odin dug his fingernails into your skin, causing you to yelp.

"Baby! Stoppit, let go. It's okay, you're with mommy and daddy now."

Ren sat up with you, latching his hands around Odin's ribs. He tugged on the boy a few times, whispering softly, "Come on, you're hurting your mother."

Odin wouldn't budge, understandable given his attachment to you over his father. But Ren wouldn't let go of him, "Odin, it's okay, let's just lay down."

"I don't wanna lay down," Odin whined, finally releasing you enough to sit in your lap. Wiping his running nose on his blanket, you'd have to clean that in the morning. Ren winced at that, ever the germophobe.

"Do you wanna lay with mommy and daddy," you cooed, running your fingers through his hair like you do for Ren. Odin nodded his head swiftly, jumping between you and his father.

Ren glared at you, hissing through his teeth, "(Y/N), he can't keep sleeping in bed with us."

"He had a nightmare," you laid down next to him. Continuing to pet his hair, you nuzzled his head with your nose. Smelling his sweet shampoo, still a hint of baby left on him. You hated the thought of his growing up, mainly for the loss of your baby boy.

And the reality of having a carbon copy of Ren around, ready to fight his dad for attention.

Ren huffed loudly, falling down on his back. He stroked a hand against Odin's tufts of black hair. He has stopped crying the moment you let him stay, back into a slumbering child with no nightmares. Ren watched him closely, listening to his breathing like you were.

------

That morning, you woke with Odin attached to your chest. Snoring loudly against your skin, a small puddle of drool had collected. You gagged a small bit, maneuvering so he could roll off you.

Ren wasn't in bed, a glance at the clock said it was nine, Odin never sleeps this late. You tapped on his shoulder, softly waking him up so you could eat breakfast.

Odin walked with you hand in hand to the kitchen, where Ren was seated at the table. Drinking coffee and reading the paper, you yawned as you sat Odin down. Even though he whined when you walked away, leaving Ren and him alone.

You watched the two of them from the counter, seeing Ren try to keep Odin calm. Holding his little hand across the table, even though he hated how much you coddled him. He was just as guilty, speaking to his son in soft tones. Telling him how his room was safe to sleep in once again, 'Daddy made sure of it.'

Odin smiled when you came back, sitting between your two boys. Where Ren could touch your leg under the table, and Odin could hold your hand while all of you ate.

The rest of the morning was slow, Belle was out at the friends' house for a sleepover. So it was the three of you, until it was time for Odin's nap. He reluctantly went to his room, even though he tried to guilt you into napping with him.

But Ren said no, he had to be a big boy and face his fears.

Once Odin was pacified and snoring, Ren dragged you to the bedroom. The two of you locking lips for the first time today, Rens hands were all over you. Mumbling against your mouth, "You're coddling him too much."

"Mhm," you mused, pushing Ren flat on his back on the bed. You swung a leg over his hip, straddling him as you fisted the black henly he wore, "I do the same to you."

"Thats because," he paused, ripping off your camisole that you handed changed out of this morning, "I'm the baby you're supposed to coddle."

You giggled at that, letting Ren tug your clothes off until you both were naked. Straddling his cock, you rocked your hips back and forth, moaning as softly as you could.

Ren laid kisses along your collar, moving towards your breasts that were swinging in rhythm with your hips. Ren placed a hand at the small of your back, propping the two of you up with another behind him.

"Am I not giving you enough attention, Kylo?"

He shook his head, panting through an open mouth as he stared up at you. Ren groaned loudly, thrusting into you in quick succession. "No-never enough," he latched onto your nipple, sucking harshly before nibbling it between his teeth.

You gasped at that, walls clenching around his cock. Seated completely inside you for a brief moment, "I can't always pay attention to you." Your breath hitched an octave higher, the head of his cock was nudging delightfully at your cervix. Ren's hips pistoned into you, forcing you to bounce like a ragdoll in his lap.

Blissed out smile stretching across your face, loving the feeling of him inside you. Cock stretching your walls with each slick thrust, you would never get enough of it.

Ren's hand slid down to cup a cheek, the tip of his middle finger lightly prodding your tight back entrance. You jolted in his hold, earning a loud chuckle in your ear, "You like me inside you, huh?"

"Uh-huh," you moaned, "I fucking love you're big cock."

"Fuck," he stilled for a moment, leaning forward to capture your lips in a kiss. Ren wrapped both arms around you, careful to not break apart as he scooted to the center of the mattress. Laying down fully on his back, Ren placed a steady palm squarely on your chest.

Pushing you to be upright on his cock, you bit your bottom lip at the sight. Ren's cheeks pink from fucking, slicked with a sheen of sweat, dark hair mussed up. You raked your nails along his chest, his breath hitched as you scraped his nipples.

"You know," he croaked, latching his hands on your waist now. You felt him readjust, planting both feet on the mattress. Elevating you from the bed, "If you gave me attention-you'd get my big cock all the time."

Before you could rebut, Ren slammed his hips up. Jostling you so hard you yelped, he chuckled below you. Thrusting with all his strength, you clutched to his shoulders. Digging into the skin as he fucked and fucked and fucked.

"Ky-y-ylo," you cried, cunt fluttering around his length. Ren groaned at that, eyes rolling back just as yours were, "You're gonna cum on my cock-all for me."

"Yes," the 's' hissing through your clenched teeth, rocking back and forth as he continued to thrust. You both were right on the edge, the only thing you needed was...

"Mommy!" came from upstairs.

Ren and you both halted, frozen in fear of Odin coming to see you both naked. Still lodged inside you, Ren rolled the two of your bodies. Making sure your faces were looking at the doorway you had stupidly left open. Ren tugged a blanket over the two of you, rolling his hips a little as you waited.

"Mommy!"

"What's wrong, Odin?" Ren boomed through the doorway. He clasped a hand over your mouth, "Mommy's busy!"

"But-but-but," and tears.

Odin must be screaming at the top of his lungs, you could practically see his little face turning bright red from the exertion. You thrashed in Rens hold, trying to be free so you could at least talk to your son.

Ren kept you pinned, waiting a little more before he continued fucking you. Letting yourself briefly moan from the sensation of him dragging against your walls, "Be quiet baby-want you to cum with me."

Not the best plan, but fuck you were so close and it sounded like Odin was tiring himself out. You could give Ren a little bit more of your attention... he was begging for it.

You opened your legs a little wider, making Ren groan in satisfaction. He placed a hand on the back of your knee, keeping you still as he fucked in fast strokes. A glob of spit falling from his pursed lips to the top of your pussy, clit now glistening with it.

Ren nodded towards it, "Rub it-right now and cum on me."

Obeying like the good girl you were, you rubbed tight circles along yourself. Moaning at the feeling of clenching his length. Ren stilled for a moment. Closing his eyes tights before groaning, both of you cumming in a slow fall of ecstasy.

Ren's cock painted your pussy, filling you deliciously while you creamed him. Both of you smiling like horny teenagers as he pulled out, your still pulsing cunt pushed out a glob of cum. Which he swiped with the tip of his finger.

Gingerly pushing it back inside, "Where it belongs."

------

You swung out of bed after that, despite Ren making a noise that could only be described as complete despair. Throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, you probably looked like a mess but he was five, he wouldn't know.

Running up the stairs to your baby, who was indeed red-faced and still crying. Babbling about where you were, and why he was scared, this, and that. You kept him cradled to your chest, rocking him back and forth.

Footsteps brought your attention to the door, your husband stood in the frame. Hands-on his hips, a little out of breath, dressed like you were.

He walked into Odin's room, plopping down on the carpeted floor by you both. Ren said nothing, he just scooped Odin from your arms. Letting him cry into his chest for a few moments, you stared at the two, your attention hogs.

Desperate for you in every way, but you wouldn't want it any different.

--------

wow okay-so sentimental is apparently an emotion I can have? big shocker.

yes Odin has nightmares, like young Kylo

TAGGING:@finn-ray-nal-beads ​​​@onlykyloscenes ​​​@candycanes19 ​​​@historyandfandoms50 ​​​@caelum-phyriina-vermillon ​​​@ghoulian13 ​​​@mrs-kylo-ren ​​​@millenialcatlady ​​​​@relationshipwithmybed ​​@dancingmicrobes ​​​@wayward-rose ​​​@contesa-lui-alucard ​​​@daydreamsofren ​​​@insufferablelust ​​​@ohdamnadamm ​​​@mariesackler ​​​@caillea ​​@safarigirlsp ​​@jalexunderthestars ​​​@shesakillerkween ​​​@glassythoughts ​​@zimmermansbrat ​​@not-the-teen-witch ​​@jynzandtonic ​@roanniom ​@celestiasin @glassbxttles @cornmousequeen@driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk

[nurseofren]

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 30 (NSFW)

Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad

Read chapter twenty-nine (NSFW-lite)

Title: Not a Fascination

Words: 14.1k (Um... don't look at me lmfao)

Summary: The other side of tragedy.

Warnings: vaginal fisting, needles, inappropriate use of medical equipment

ST Rambles: Here to drop this absolute MONSTROSITY of a 14.1k word chapter. But boy howdy was this thing a long time coming. Thigh riding, fisting, vein kink -- OH MY. To be honest, this thing was not supposed to be what it is, but I went with it and like how it turned out and how it will help the story along.

I take my NCLEX on July 7th and start my orientation on the 19th. Life is crazy y'all. Enjoy this.

[MASTERLIST] || BANNER // @elmidol

Bloodied faces, jagged flesh, the smell of iron scorching your nose, screams scraping against your ears and never ending, never faltering no matter how much you did.

All these things, these horrid thoughts, crowded your mind, and all you could do was keep running, keep tumbling through the unfamiliar halls of this place and hope you could get to him in time. Get to Kylo in time.

Because how many chances could the galaxy or the stars or the gods offer you? It felt like you’d used those chances up, maxed them out between Robbie and Snoke and Starkiller.

But you could not think like that, or at least you didn’t want to. It was useless, none of those gut-wrenching thoughts could help you or Kylo, and all of them just made you want to crumple to the floor and give up.

If he wasn’t okay, if he was dying…

The thought made you stumble forward, your fingers clamping onto a doorframe as you made another tight turn into the next hallway that looked like all the previous. You shot past couplets of workers, their shocked gasps dwindling behind as you raced away from them to wherever your watch was leading you.

CB-7070 raced just behind you, and maybe it appeared as if you were being chased by security, but you couldn’t care less, not as you felt the phantom flood of crimson slither along your leg, its ghost a cold, wicked reminder of how bad things could be again. The stormtrooper didn’t stop you, though, and you wondered briefly if she had been alerted to Kylo’s emergency as well. But it was a fleeting thought, and all you could think of was getting to him and being with him and not letting him go ever again.

Your heart burned in your chest and your legs flew faster than you ever knew they could, fast like your sprint toward the Command Shuttle when the planet was exploding alongside your life. This was all too familiar, too chaotic. You couldn’t do this again.

You wouldn’t.

The next turn you hurdled past, you promised yourself that you would do everything you could to ensure Kylo would never be helpless like he had been ever again. Trial be damned, license be damned, Snoke be damned! None of it mattered. Nothing mattered. Nothing but him, nothing mattered except him. It was always him.

It would always be him.

The tiny red blip of your radar display became centered, and you looked up just before you met a badge-protected door face first. Before you could process the thought completely, your hand flung to the badge hanging from your collar and slammed it into the scanner on the wall. The door hissed open and you catapulted into whatever room you’d been led to.

And then you connected with a hard wall of heat and muscle. Kylo.

Breath heaved from your lungs as your hands skimmed along his front, assessing for damage and wounds, searching for the sinister slip of blood beneath the tips of your fingers. You were only vaguely aware of the questions fumbling from your trembling lips, your ears ringing and head pounding as your hands took one of his clothed arms and smoothed along its strong length, wandering until they found nothing of concern and shifting to the opposite.

After finding his front and upper half free from injury, you went to spin to his back, but a hand caught your hip – a warm, firm hand that broke through the cloud of panic that’d swallowed you – and kept you from moving. You urged away from it, but it remained and kept you steady, and when you tried a third time, it grasped a little tighter, and you found your way back to the present.

Breath wheezed out of you and you looked up. Kylo was peering down at you, unmasked. It was there again, that odd, unreadable expression from the Command Shuttle that day, the one that looked like awe, but now it was laced with something more. The way he looked at you… Kylo seemed stunned, but there was this strength to it, like he hadn’t been expecting your worry, but that he liked it.

“Kylo,” you whimpered, your fingers reaching up to skim his face, the pad of your left ring finger etching along the black-and-red scar that struck through his face.

His Jaw tightened and your eyes fled to his, the weight of his molten amber gaze making you shiver. Something wet and hot slipped over your top lip, and only then did you realize you’d begun to cry.

“Kylo,” you mouthed, and then you rested your forehead against the broad width of his chest, your hands slipping from his face and reaching around his waist so you could pull him to you.

He seemed to relax slightly with you tight against him, but he was still rigid.

“Leave us,” Kylo stated simply, and your blood ran cold while your face heated.

In your panicked state, you forgot that CB-7070 had followed after you. She’d kept up with you through the halls and was now standing in the same room where you’d just caressed the Commander of the First Order’s face and hugged him. The room where you were still hugging him.

“Commander Ren, I am to remain with your provider during her time away from the Consulate,” CB-7070 said, an uneasiness clear even in her altered voice. “To leave her would go against my assignment.”

“Your assignment is with the General, is it not?” Kylo demanded, the hand on your hip flexing but never releasing.

There was a tense pause, and you heard the stormtrooper at your back shuffle uncomfortably, undoubtedly under the intense glare your master was shooting her right now.

“She is my provider, after all. Report to the General that you left her with me.” His heart was steady and unwavering in his chest, and you knew you should pull away from him, but you were too caught up in the reassurance of his strong form to do so.

Another moment of silence passed, you felt the steady gawk of CB-7070’s face centered on you, and you went to finally let go of Kylo. But he had other plans. Instead of letting you go, Kylo took the hand that wasn’t clasped to your hip and let it trail up your spine, dragging it along your back until it cupped the base of your skull and shifted your head so your cheek lay flat against his chest.

“Tell your general he can come to me if he has an issue with my order. I’ll be interested to hear his… perspective on the matter, if he feels so compelled.”

The lethal confidence that Kylo spoke with seeped into your bones. And though you couldn’t see his face, you heard the slight snarl he’d ended his words with.

A second passed, you took a breath, and the heat of Kylo’s gloved hand atop your nape sent a scalding shiver down your spine. Movement sounded at your back, and you could almost feel CB-7070’s surrender in the way the remaining rigidity left Kylo altogether.

The stormtrooper cleared her throat. “I will report as you’ve advised, Commander Ren.” Out of the corner of your eye, CB-7070 shifted toward you. “Officer,” she said in resignation, wariness tingeing her tone.

You couldn’t look at her. The only thing meeting her mask-hidden eyes would do is solidify that you had an odd, extremely inappropriate relationship with Kylo Ren. Between the trial, the shitty shift, and whatever Kylo called you here for, the last thing you needed was Hux up your ass. Or, further up your ass than he already was.

So you only nodded against Kylo’s chest, attempting to speak but knowing your words would be rasped by how thick your throat had become.

Boots sounded on the tile floor, then a rush of hydraulics, and finally the room settled around you. It was quiet, the only sound that of Kylo’s rhythmic, unfaltering heart and your own pulse finally slowing in your ears. He still held you to him – hand on hip and head – and for however long he did, whether it was minutes or hours, you felt the chaos of Starkiller’s downfall flood away. Kylo held you and you held onto him, and the planet at your feet kept still and steady, so you allowed a second a peace, clinging to every rise and fall of the chest that tided beneath your cheek.

Had you ever held Kylo Ren before? The thought struck through you, and you tightened your hold just a measure more, and you felt your body sigh against his.

Kylo had held you before, held tight your sob-wracked body on that all-too-recent day that seemed to have changed so much. Seemed to have changed everything, really.

“I thought something happened,” you murmured. “I thought you were hurt again like… like last time. And that I’d find you and you wouldn’t…” You swallowed, the grim thought choking you. “And you wouldn’t wake up this time.”

The hand on your hip smoothed over to the small of your back, the breath of his heavy sigh cooling the crown of your head. “I’m not that easy to kill,” Kylo said, blunt yet gentle.

You ran your hands up his back, surreptitiously searching for damage. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” you mumbled.

A gust of amusement left him, and he teasingly said, “I think a lot of people would disagree with that statement.”

He was… joking? “Nothing physically wrong, then. So why are you here, Kylo?”

He hummed, and the feel of his vibrating chest against your ear was chilling. The hand that rested on the back of your neck toyed with the stray hair there, and just as soon as your eyes lulled shut did they fling back open.

The Force returned with unyielding, unforgiving strength. It laved and pushed and whirled through your cunt, and you shuddered against Kylo and he held you to him, trapped you against him while you yipped and squealed and bit back wanton moans.

“I can’t just come see you?” Kylo rumbled, and you could hear the smirk he now wore. “It has been such a long, boring day, what with you ordering me against training for the foreseeable future, so I thought I’d pay a visit to my little nurse.” He sighed a low chuckle. “Thought I’d see how memorable your first day has been.”

Your hands bunched in the material of his outer tunic, your jaw slack and brow pinched, but through the thick pleasure you found yourself annoyed and… angry.

You were angry with him.

He came here with the intent to toy with you, just as he’d done during your entire shift. The same toying – albeit, much more vehement now – that caused you to be publicly reprimanded and shamed not even an hour ago. It made you feel so worthless, so unimportant that he hadn’t considered that you wouldn’t want to do this with him right now. Even worse was the fact you thought he was hurt or so much worse when your watch had alerted.

It felt like he didn’t care how these shifts would affect your trial. It felt like he hadn’t given a second thought to summoning you here, like he didn’t consider that you’d lose your mind at the thought of something worse happening to him as the events of Starkiller occurred not even two weeks ago.

“Kylo,” you warned, but it came out on a lusting breath. “Kylo, stop.”

“Is that another one of your orders you seem to be so keen on today? In that case…”

The Force shifted, and while it kept a masterful pattern on your clit, you now felt it move inside you, pushing into you just as his thick, heavy cock would. But the Force grew, it stretched you and you felt it deep, deepinside. A pitiful wheeze jolted from your lungs, and when your knees quivered, Kylo only pressed you harder into his massive, broad body, the Force filling you with relentless strokes.

“Kylo, stop it. Stop it, now,” you panted, your voice rising a pitch when you felt the frays of pleasure tickle along your nerves. You didn’t want to cum, not for him, not right now when he’d made you so livid.

“You should be begging me to let you cum, not for me to stop” he hummed, a note of uncertainty present in his tone. “Why are you fighting me on this?”

“Because I don’t want to do this with you!”

The exclamation ripped through your throat, your nails nearly shredding through his thick tunic, and as you prepared to be drowned in the ecstasy of orgasm, the Force left you. It all stopped, and all you knew in that moment was that you were relieved he listened to you. Relieved he stopped and recognized that this wasn’t an empty plea born from a pleasure high. Recognized you were serious.

As you calmed, still holding tight to him, you felt the absence of his touch, and the room went completely still around you. It didn’t even seem like Kylo was breathing, or he was and it was disconcertingly quiet and insidious.

You took your hands from him and stepped away, seeing you were in a nondescript assessment room, a simple exam table in its center and a set of windows peering out toward the bay. The sun was slowly sinking toward the water now, casting the cabinet-lined walls with rich orange and purple hues. Only now did you realize the lights weren’t on, the panic you’d entered the room with quick to steal your attention from such details.

As you took another step back, wiping your face with the backs of your hands, you turned your focus back to Kylo. You were mad at him. He didn’t get to throw a fit right now. You did.

But before you could start, Kylo spoke, his voice deathly and haunted as he did. “Then who do you want to do this with?”

“What are you talking about, Kylo?”

“You said you didn’t want to do this with me. That implies there is another who you would rather be doing this with.” His face was forged in impenetrable steel, and yours was warped with exasperated confusion.

“Yeah, I don’t want to do this with you. Fuck, no I don’t want to fuck you right now. I don’t want to be fucked by you right now.”

He was entirely off base, and it sent a wave of quiet outrage through you that he couldn’t see why you were so angry with him.

He ground his teeth together, so hard it seemed likely he would crack a molar. The scarred side of his face hitched in a snarl when he whispered, “The physician, right? That would make the most sense. You wanted to fuck him before.”

“Hey!” you barked, stomping a pace toward him, utterly dumbfounded by how he was missing the point. “You don’t get to call me a slut. You know what? You don’t get to be mad right now. You don’t get to imply that I want to fuck anyone other than you just because your fragile ego can’t take that I don’t want to fuck you right now, that I don’t want you to touch me right now because…”

Thoughts were somehow coming too quickly and leaving too soon as you floundered in front of him. When you didn’t speak, when your hands grasped for the words that you couldn’t find, your eyes settled on the rigid flow of his breathing. And then lower to the fists at his sides, flexing and unflexing as the room settled into silence.

“You don’t get to be mad,” you said, and it was a quiet murmur from your lips but the room around you boomed as they left you. “You don’t get to be mad right now because I…” And it took a final moment, one where his eyes lit at the threat of more silence, but you finally understood what you were feeling. “You don’t get to be mad right now because I am more than your fuck toy.”

“Of course you are—,”

“No!” you interrupted, flinging a hand just inches from his chest. “You talk so much about how I need you and how I need to trust you first, but how can I when you won’t respect… me?”

Kylo’s nostrils flared, and you saw the heave of breath that left him, but he kept quiet. So you continued. “You don’t respect me. Or maybe you do and you just suck at showing it. Because you called me here, you alerted me that there was something wrong and I thought you were dead, alright? I thought you were hurt and that you were bleeding out and that if I didn’t get to you in time that you were going to die and that it would be my fault.”

“I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong,” he said, voice laden with visceral restraint.

“And that’s the whole problem, don’t you see?” You bored one last stabbing glare into his eyes, and then rage clutched at your chest. A whiny, tired roar tore through your throat. “I’m such a joke. I… I can’t do anything. I’ve lost so much time and opportunity being assigned to you that I never learned how to do anything right! And you don’t care! You don’t care that I’m working under a preceptor who graduated the same month I did. You don’t care that I’m here, working unpaid shifts so I can prove to the Board that even if I’m unfit for practice, I am still worthy of life.”

Breath burned your throat, but it never seemed to fill your lungs. Kylo glared at you, a cold, flat expression dulling his features. You didn’t care. He needed to hear this. You needed to say it.

“I sprinted here from the Infirmary, and all I could think about was that I couldn’t lose you. That I wouldn’t live in a world where I wasn’t with you.” His brow narrowed at that, but you couldn’t stop. “And when I got here and you were okay, I felt like I could breathe again. But then you start with your Force-fucking bullshit and made me realize that you will never take me seriously. None of this will ever matter to you – not the fact that I won’t ever practice again, not the fact that you caused me to miss an IV, not the fact that that got me humiliated in front of a whole floor of staff who will forever know me as Kylo Ren’s Provider, the girl with the red embroidery and the too-short uniform.”

You hadn’t noticed, but your hand had gone to trace the embroidery you’d just mentioned, and when you flung your hand away, you saw a flicker of something unfamiliar in Kylo’s eyes.

A bitter, cold laugh croaked out of you. “Do you know who I’m working under? Does the name Calliope Silvren sound familiar to you?” You eyed him, and when he didn’t speak, you nearly barked at him, “Do you know who she is, Kylo?”

“No,” he said, and it sounded like the truth, but it didn’t matter to you if it was or not.

“Calliope Silvren is everything I was supposed to be. She’s everything I’m not, and… and she’s the one you are supposed to be fucking!”

“What are you talking about?” He ended the question with a tense cut of your name.

“Because I was your little fascination, right?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the thought as your vision blurred with tears. “I was nothing more than a game to you, and she was the one who was supposed to be assigned to you.” Gulps of breath hiccupped in your throat. “She wouldn’t have gotten herself into this situation!” The heels of your hands dug into your eyes, and you realized you were trembling. “Calliope fucking Silvren wouldn’t have taken the blood from that fridge, and she wouldn’t have fucked her Commander! Calliope fucking Silvren wouldn’t have named a stormtrooper and she wouldn’t have gotten raped and she wouldn’t have killed anyone!”

Something hard and cold cracked across your knees, and your hands fell out in front of you. The floor. Your legs had given out and you were sobbing uncontrollably on the sterile, frigid floor.

With a stuttering chest, you hugged your knees and cried into them. “I was never supposed to be here, none of this was supposed to happen. I was supposed to graduate and work in the Stormtrooper Hub and live a boring, mundane life.” Crushing pain flooded your chest, and your next words were nastier than you meant them to be. “A boring, mundane life where I fucked the physician until the day I died.” You looked up at him, then, and he was only a blurry outline of black and orange and purple. “Because that’s what I am to you, right? Just some slut who fucks all the men in her life.”

You scraped at your wet, burning eyes and a sob hitched in your throat. Kylo looked down at you, and you could feel the violent emotion that lived in his blackened eyes. But he said nothing, and when the silence pressed into you, the thought that came to mind was too loud to keep inside.

But that riotous thought came out on the meager dying breath of a whisper. “If your biggest concern right now is that I want to fuck Mason, then I have… I have deluded myself into believing that you care for me. That you ever cared for me.” The truth of it burned your tongue, and your chest ached for the death of the future you’d come running for.

Kylo didn’t look away from you for a long moment, and though he remained guarded, you saw something tense in his eyes. It wasn’t anger but sorrow. Sorrow and fear hidden behind a cracked mask. But then the notch in his throat moved and he turned away.

Anticipating his departure, you shut your eyes and braced yourself for the hydraulic hiss. Memories of the past few months flooded your mind’s eye, and you questioned if all this time it had been one-sided and imagined. The idea tore through you, and your chest hollowed when you thought of all the times you’d considered so dear could have only been ploys so he could control you, so he’d have access to his little fascination whenever he wanted.

The storm of thoughts overwhelmed you, but when you heard a drawer-release in the distance, muffled by the blood pounding through your skull, you lifted your head and opened your eyes to find Kylo hadn’t left. He was looking at you from across the room, his face haunted with a stabbing emotion you couldn’t quite place. His hands, glove-free now, held something, and when you caught view of it Kylo started toward you.

He didn’t stop until he stood just a stride in front of you, and when you stared up at him you saw his jaw was set, yet anger remained absent from him, still that sorrowful fear, but now it was softer, yielding. He took a silent breath, his shoulders rising evenly, and then you gasped and jolted upright as he folded himself to the floor before you and sat.

You gulped, gawking at him, noting he held an… IV starter kit?

“What are you doing?” you asked, taking in how awkward his massive form looked as he sat with his legs open and his knees slightly bent.

He said nothing, dropping the IV kit to the floor between his legs and proceeding to unclasp and shrug off the top layers of his uniform. He watched his hands while doing so, allowing you to observe him without the weight of his eyes pressing into you. He kept his eyes away until his chest was bare and you saw his biceps flex and flow as he placed the last of his clothing to the side.

Kylo picked up the sealed kit with one hand and your own in his other. He clasped the kit into your palm and pinned you with his gaze. “You are not a fascination,” he stated, clarity ringing in his voice.

He dropped your hand, only after squeezing it between his own, and then gripped the sides of your thighs and pulled you between his spread legs. You swallowed, heart thumping hard when he positioned your face just a breath from his.

He never looked away from you, and you couldn’t take your eyes from his, so when he next spoke you felt each powerful word kiss your cheeks and sink into your soul. “You are the light that has shown me my way.”

All at once, your heart stopped. Words refused to form. The harsh knit of his brow softened, and he lifted his forearm to rest on his flexed knee. With an unsteady, almost nervous emotion, he said, “You have not deluded yourself,” your name was a faint yearn off his tongue. “I care for you.”

He held his palm open and up, and the tips of his fingers played with the tab of the kit still resting in your hand, slight tremors coursing through your fingers. “Make this even. Use this,” he nudged the plastic container again, “and right the wrong I caused.”

It took a moment for your mouth to catch up with your brain, and when you finally spoke, your voice was small and weak. “I don’t know what you think will be proven by me placing an IV in your arm.”

“Just do it,” he urged, “because this won’t work unless you trust me, and-,”

“I can’t trust you if you don’t tell me what “this” is, Kylo,” you said, and it was louder than you’d meant for it to be. But you peeled open the kit and scooted back from Kylo so you could begin prodding at his arm for a good vein.

As you looked, finding bountiful fat, bouncy, obvious veins poking just under his skin, you felt him watching you. He pumped his hand a few times, and the sight of his veins and muscles swirling and popping dizzied you for a moment, a steady pulse now throbbing between your thighs. When your fingers danced down one particular vein, the one you’d admired while he slept this morning, you pressed against its spongey prominence and trailed it all the way down to his wrist.

“Your veins are literal artwork,” you sighed, but you hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

There was a fragment of amusement in Kylo’s brow, but he brushed over your compliment like you wished he would. “If I tell you what “this” is, “this” won’t work.”

“Then I guess I won’t trust you,” you said, sassy and defiant.

“Mm, that won’t work for either of us,” he rumbled, and you wanted to slap him for his sly tone.

You flicked his vein and reached for the kit, but there were no gloves, and you needed a saline flush. And an alcohol wipe. “You know, it’s a bad look when you come ill-prepared for any procedure,” you said, looking at him before standing and searching for your supplies, “it makes you look like you have no idea what you’re doing.” Once you had what you needed, you gave him a pointed stare as you walked back to him, looking down at him as you said, “It creates a lack of trust between patient and provider.”

There was that whispered amusement in his brow again, the same in the set of his mouth. “What happens if the provider doesn’t trust the patient?”

“Then the patient gets a dose of Ativan and goes to sleep so the provider can do her job effectively.” You knelt within the cradle of his hips again and repositioned his arm so you had better access to it. Using the cleanser provided in the kit, you scrubbed his arm, a bit more forcefully than you needed to, but it wouldn’t hurt him. And if it did… so be it.

You could feel the humor he found in your feisty comments. It irked you. You continued, staring him dead in the eye while you snapped the rubber tourniquet above his elbow. “Or if the chemical restraint isn’t appropriate, there’s always good old-fashioned mechanical ones.”

“Is that what you want to do to me, nurse?” Kylo purred, and even though it was infuriating that he was leaning into your anger, the tone of his voice made your legs quiver. “You want to tie me up and have your way with me?” Kylo hummed and it went straight to your center. “Seems like I’d have to trust my provider for that to occur.”

“You have no reason not to trust your provider,” you said blandly, priming the extension tubing with saline.

“And what do blatant lies do to your all-important patient-provider relationship?”

That stopped you. And what squeezed something deep in your heart were the hard eyes you found when looking back to him. You swallowed a gasp, your throat bobbing harshly. “What are you saying?”

“You know what I’m saying.” There was a cautious chill to his tone, like he fully believed what he was alluding to.

It wilted your insides. “You think I lie to you? You think I’ve lied to you?”

“You have. Many times. You’re lying to me even now.” Without taking his eyes from yours, Kylo nudged the open IV kit. “Continue. You’re getting to my favorite part.”

“I’m not going to continue. I can’t. Not after you tell me you… tell me you think I’m lying to you.”

“Continue and I’ll explain.” He was all too casual for what he was saying, and the half-grin he gave you was more alarming than comforting. “A compromise.”

A deep breath did nothing to fill your lungs, but you gave him a small nod and turned back to his arm. The tourniquet had been on for a while, and you’d rather not bruise your pride further from a blown vein so you released the knot.

“I’m letting those veins rest for a few minutes.” You swallowed, tugging at your bottom lip with your teeth. “Explain, I guess.”

Again, he didn’t look angry with you, and you didn’t know what to think of the firm calmness he was exhibiting. But he tightened his jaw for a moment and began.

“To start, the first night you were assigned to me. You weren’t there. And I’m sure you remember the outcome of that.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you remembered him pulling your head back as water rocketed down your throat, burning your lungs. A shiver slid down your back. “I apologized for that. And it technically wasn’t a lie, as I explained that same night. Your ship got back early.”

“And then the time you stumbled in drunk in the middle of the night.” He went on as if you hadn’t said anything, and you swore there was a faint fond smile tugging at his lips.

“I apologized for both of those occurrences. And, in my defense, you hadn’t shown up for curfew until the night I got home late. You were never there, not when I got home and not when I left for the medbay. I didn’t see you for a week.”

“But I saw you,” he said, and it struck you silent. “My training with Snoke was unpredictable, but I always found myself… checking to see if you were there. It was always in the early hours of the morning when I got back, so you were sleeping.” He swallowed hard before he spoke again, like he didn’t want to admit whatever it was. “I liked seeing you so peaceful. You were never peaceful around me.”

You stared at him in awe, the tourniquet limp in your hand, and no words dared come to mind as he continued.

“So when you weren’t there the night I’d finally made it home before midnight, something in me��� I realized that you’d started to mean something more to me. More than the fascination I thought you were.” His eyes were practically burning now, and your heart squeezed tight in your chest. “And then I carried you to your bed and saw you’d kept my cape from the previous week. And I knew if I allowed myself to let you keep it, that I’d be permitting whatever I felt then to give into that more. So I took the cape, and I decided that would be the end of it.” His throat bobbed. “I wanted that to be the end of it.”

Truthfully, your head was swimming in all he was saying. You didn’t know how to deal with it, and you found yourself staring at the floor, thinking back to that night a few months back, thinking about how you’d wanted him to stay. And now it was more haunting, knowing that he’d felt similar to you then, and you’d just accused him of never caring for you.

Kylo’s large hand came into view and tugged gently on the limp tourniquet threaded through your fingers. “My veins have rested long enough. Continue.”

The weight of his eyes was back and it took a moment to take yours away and focus back on his arm. Sitting between his legs was… nice, but it would be awkward angling a needle from this position. So you fixed yourself to straddle his thigh, sitting back on your heels and resting his hand palm-up on your thigh.

“Comfortable?” Kylo asked, and you heard his slight grin in the word.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, extremely aware of the heat of his leg pressing against your sex, against the pair of briefs you took from him this morning.

“I thought you wanted me to explain?”

You sucked your teeth and snapped the tourniquet in place in the same second. A low chuckle rumbled from Kylo, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks, so confused by his casual demeanor.

Gliding a gloved finger along your chosen vein, you whispered, “Continue,” before activating the cleansing sponge and scrubbing along his arm vigorously.

His nails brushed along your inner thigh and you swallowed a gasp, but when you grabbed the needle, he spoke up. “When we got back to Starkiller, and you chose to stay in the medbay after seeing what that stormtrooper had done.” Kylo broke off, deep, seething anger simmering along the mention of Robbie. “The next morning I found you’d slept there, completely open to harm from anyone who wanted to cause it—”

“Those doors are coded to badge access. I was fine.”

“So was your residence, but he found a way, didn’t he?” The harshness of his tone stole your focus, and you found his set jaw and knew that harshness wasn’t for you, but for the one he spoke of. “You weren’t safe and when I found you’d slept there that night, I was…”

Kylo looked at you with hard eyes, and you thought you knew what he wanted to say – or what he couldn’t say, really. “You were… concerned?”

“No,” he said, “I was enraged.” He swallowed. “Not with you, or that stormtrooper. With myself.”

The intensity of his gaze was too much, so you looked down and turned the bevel of the needle upward and began to angle it against his skin. “Why,” you whispered, voice a mere rasp.

“Because I should have killed him the moment we landed back on Starkiller.”

The words boomed through the small room, the rich violet of the sinking sun curling around the chilled tone of Kylo’s voice. A halo of fire lit his folded frame from behind, and you thought it matched that which now lived in the molten amber of his eyes. You realized in that moment that Kylo blamed himself for Robbie, and he’d just told you a truth he’d known for a long time.

You went to speak, but his other hand came to the one you grasped the needle with and pressed so the metal tip advanced beneath his skin. A curse fell from your agape mouth when his touch left and you saw blood return, advancing the IV catheter quickly and watching as crimson threatened to spill out. You released the tourniquet and fumbled with the extension tubing, securing it and flushing the vein with saline, something of pride and relief spreading through your chest as you met no resistance.

The next steps went by quickly – clamping the tubing, placing the transparent dressing over top, securing with extra tape, and slipping off your gloves – but you felt Kylo’s eyes on you the whole time. He was patient, and he shifted his leg and made you wince as it hit just the right spot, so when you finished gathering your trash and looked up again, you didn’t expect to find him with an expression of such… fondness. Still tense, but strong and unyielding, reverent almost.

“What he did to… to me, it is not your fault, Kylo.” You clasped your hand over his that rested on your thigh.

“It’s not your fault,” Kylo corrected, and you knew he meant it. He squeezed your hand and pulled you nearer, his leg pressing into that bundle of nerves and making you shiver. “And maybe it’s not mine either, but that doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to kill him.”

“Why does that matter?”

He took a long pause and sighed, searching your eyes and looking at your lips when he said, “I shouldn’t have cared that he hurt you, or that he took you out in the first place. I shouldn’t have cared that you didn’t consider that I would have kept you safe, or that I would have wanted you with me that night and not alone on a freezing exam table.” He swallowed. “And I should never have cared so much that you went to McCarty the next night, even when you’d agreed to come to me.”

You licked your lips, unsure when you said, “I was scared that the Board would see me on surveillance. You knew that.”

“Yes,” he said and huffed out something that resembled a tired laugh. “I knew that and yet I still wanted you with me. Because I am selfish and consider you something of an invaluable piece of me.”

A piece of him, you thought, dizzied by the outpouring of truth he was allowing. You skated your thumb along the veins of his hand, heart racing as the sun continued to set behind him. In a whisper, you asked, “But why should you have never cared about… those things? I… I like that you cared about them.”

He leaned into you after a slow second, and his forehead met yours. His breath warmed your face before he said, “I should never have cared about them because it meant that I cared about you. That I care about you.” He said, and when you gasped you felt him shudder. “I care about you, and that makes you a pawn in games you aren’t even aware of. And that isn’t your choice. It is wholly unfair to you for me to make you a target for my enemies.”

“I think I know at least one of the games I’m a pawn in,” you said, voice so shaky you could barely recognize it. He stilled, and you took one hand from his and grasped the back of his neck, threading your fingers through his sun-emblazoned hair. “And Kylo, what if it is my choice?”

“Then I am every bit the monster people know me to be.” Kylo said it more to himself, and you wondered why he sounded so haunted in that moment.

“You’re not a monster, Kylo. At least, you aren’t my monster.”

“No, you killed him.”

“Yes,” you swallowed, and you couldn’t help the hesitance that crept into your voice. “I did.”

Kylo lifted his head from yours then, and you knew he wanted you to keep your eyes on his as he said, “I say that because it’s true and you shouldn’t feel shame for doing so. I told you I wanted to kill him, but I didn’t know how satisfying it would be to hear you say you’d done it yourself.”

“You’re proud that I killed him?”

“I am proud that you did not hesitate.” He swallowed, eyes haunted once more. “I am proud that you recognized your enemy, and you knew what it would take to beat him.”

You didn’t say a word, but you nodded, sliding your hand from his nape to his chest. You searched his eyes as he looked down to where his hand was, and you felt his fingertips find the raised, off-color skin of the initials he’d branded you with. He knit his brow just slightly, and you moved your hand to cup his scarred cheek. He spent several more seconds gazing at the scar he’d given you, but his gaze found yours soon enough.

“I’ll tell you something that I shouldn’t like.” His eyes narrowed a small measure. With the pad of your thumb running along the curve of his healing scar, the black-and-white stitching still there but lesser, you admired him for a long, quiet moment. He continued to trace along your scar, and his leg shifted again, your breath catching before you could stop it.

“You told me you like my scars already.”

A slight smile tilted your lips to the side, but you spoke with little amusement when you whispered, “I like my scar, too.”

Kylo went utterly still, and then he slid his hand up so his heated palm closed over the raised letters on your thigh. “When I did this, I didn’t know…”

“You weren’t supposed to know,” you murmured, and your heart sank to your gut as memories of that horrid day flooded back, images of Snoke’s mangled existence, echoes of Mason’s pained screams ringing through your commlink.

“I could have known.” Again there was no anger in his tone, but something aching, regretful almost.

You brushed a few stray curls back from his face and smoothed a thumb along his temple. “Snoke would have killed Mason. He was monitoring your thoughts that entire day. I had no choice. I told you this yesterday.”

“And as I told you earlier, I am selfish.” He shrugged his shoulders slightly at the same moment you felt his thumb swipe the inside of your thigh. “You could have told me, right after you’d met with him. That’s why you weren’t home when I returned, wasn’t it?” You nodded and he went on. “I should have known something was wrong the second you got back to the Finalizer residence.”

“No you shouldn’t have. That’s the point—”

“No, the point is that you don’t trust me.”

“No, the point is that I couldn’t tell you or imply anything was wrong because Mason—”

“I do not care about McCarty,” Kylo nearly barked, but it was a reined in response by the way his voice lowered at the end. “I don’t care about anyone apart from you, and no matter how duty-bound you felt to protect your friend, you should have come to me.”

“And what would you have done but gotten him killed and risked my life in the process?”

“I will never risk your life,” Kylo seethed, his hand clamping over the scar he’d made. “But that’s the one thing you’re willing to gamble away at any sign of trouble for others, isn’t it?”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, I’m only speaking the truth when I say that you are so focused on trying to save everyone around you, that you fail to see how often you jeopardize yourself.” His nostrils flared, but the grip on your thigh lightened, and you didn’t feel threatened by him at all. “I have to be selfish because you will always be recklessly selfless.”

“And is that such a bad thing? I’ve saved two people, three if you count yourself, while being oh so recklessly selfless.”

Kylo’s face fell into incredulity. “And you now have the sweet promise of three more weeks with a pulse. And the added bonus of a chancefor more, but with the swift revocation of your license for however long you live afterward.”

The truth stung, but not quite so much as it did coming from him. “So, what? I should stop helping people?”

“I will never ask that of you,” he stated. “But I do ask that you not get yourself killed in the process.”

“Like you said, it’s probably too late for that.”

He looked at you hard and long, chewing his tongue. His eyes narrowed and he swallowed, staring at you with a thousand thoughts whirling in his gaze. He cleared his throat and fixed his features so he was no longer studying you so much as he was admiring you. Sultry eyes landed on your lips, and the hand over your thigh tightened, his other coming to mirror over your remaining thigh. He reared his leg upward and you yelped as the sudden friction settled into your clit, your torso slamming into the hard muscle of his chest so your arms were flung around his neck.

Kylo shifted you over his thigh, inching you up and back over the hard, thick muscles. His head turned so you felt his nose trace over the shell of your ear, his lips catching your ear lobe for a moment before you sighed from the pleasure of his movements.

He let you breathe for a moment, your fingers dipping into the curl of hair at his nape, his warm breath heating your neck. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Not entirely,” he rumbled, his thigh inching up another measure, his hands pulling, grinding you against him. A small, contented moan fled your lips when another rush of heat coiled in your belly. “But if I were, I’d say I’m doing a good job of it.”

Your hips shifted of their own volition, a seethe rushed past your teeth, and you felt the day’s torture rush up all at once. Hours and hours of being led and teased with the Force, withstanding Kylo’s earlier intentions to catapult you into ecstasy. Being so close to him now, the heat of his bare chest sinking through the material of your uniform, your thighs straddled against the muscles he’d trained over years and years – you felt yourself giving into his touch.

And maybe it was because of everything he’d just told you, but you felt… better about allowing him to pleasure you now. There was less of an overarching sense that you were nothing but a toy for him. The idea of giving into him now, letting yourself go and enjoying the feel of his massive form under you, it felt good. It felt different from before, and even though you still had questions, mostly pertaining to why he was here in the first place, you knew you wouldn’t deny yourself or him any longer.

As you held onto him, he rocked you back and forth along the length of his thigh, rubbing you just right, keeping a sweet pace and listening as you let out tiny gasps from each synchronized roll of your hips.

“I was angry that I’d allowed myself to feel so much,” he breathed onto your neck as he kept his pace with your hips. “I couldn’t stand the thought that I meant nothing to you, that I was nothing to you.” You felt the flicker of orgasm as your body began to tense, his words an urging caress. “So I marked you as my own, and I watched you bear the pain of it in near silence. I wanted you to react, to scream at me with the shattering rage I knew in that moment. But you didn’t. You were so quiet and still…”

Your arms were going limp around his neck, so you slumped into him. Kylo curled his head further so his lips were pressed against your ear, his voice no louder than the breath of a whisper. “I thought about how just hours before, I’d felt your tears stream down my back, and I couldn’t shake the thought that you’d betrayed me so thoroughly for so long. I was so angry, I couldn’t see you. I couldn’t think of what it meant that you were silent while I cut into you with every ill-intent I felt in that moment. I was blinded by your betrayal, but also my own, because I knew better than to allow myself to get so involved with someone, because I was bested by a weakness that never should have existed. The weakness I created.”

Tendrils of release crept up your chest and you rode the edge of pleasure as your breath panted against his skin and he ground you harder into him. His teeth pulled at your ear lobe and shivers quaked outward along your neck and spine, his touch and words a separate charge toward pleasure.

“You don’t have weaknesses, Kylo,” you panted, barely recognizing your voice. “You are not weak.”

“No, I am not,” he breathed, kissing the hinge of your jaw, “but you are a weakness of mine, a piece of me, and a target because of it.” You whimpered against him as your body sprinted toward sweet release, losing grip on that last fraying string of sanity when Kylo said, his voice ragged and raw, “And I am selfish enough to ask that you trust me. Trust that I will never risk you even though I am a risk to you, because you are an extension of me, and I will defend you as I would my very own flesh and blood.”

In that moment, you felt more than the sexual bliss of orgasm, sinking deeply into the rasped words he’d given life from his tongue, but were born from his heart. His heart that beat so steadily when you lay against it, the heart you’d ran toward so often, even when you hadn’t realized it. Euphoria pulsed through your body as every word and breath he’d just gifted raced around your mind, leaving you to settle into him as you returned to the present.

“Be selfish,” you murmured, breathing heavily. “I will trust you. I do trust you.”

The strength of his arms tight against your back, pulling you into him, was as shocking as it was calming. He was holding onto you, not just holding you, but keeping you to him as tightly and surely as he could.

Through closed eyes you knew the sun would soon be hidden from the sky and taken over by night, but you didn’t care that time was passing. Because as your breath fell into step with Kylo’s own, time might as well have stopped existing.

“Why are you seeing McCarty tomorrow?”

Although the words were quiet, even as he spoke directly against your ear, their sudden presence spread like ice water over your heated skin. It’s not that he spoke with any harsh emotion, just that it shocked the silence you’d been nestled into. The room settled as you took a few more silent moments, but then it occurred to you that you’d never told him that.

“How do you know that I’m seeing him tomorrow?”

Neither of you moved, and you even toyed with a black curl as he said, “I told you I didn’t need to be near you anymore to… sense you.” He sighed, and it melted along the length of your spine. “I heard you at breakfast this morning. Talking to Hux’s provider.”

Swallowing, you braced your hands on his shoulders so you could peel away from him. He didn’t go easily, not tightening his hold but not letting you go either. The palms of your hands pressed gently into the warm skin of his chest, and soon your eyes found his in the faltering light of day. With a kiss of deep purple still hazing through the room, you searched his gaze with your own, and you wondered if the conversation you’d shared with Talia had anything to do with why he was here.

But there was more to that conversation than your plans to see Mason, and you needed to know how much he’d heard. “How does this… sensingthing work? It’s the Force, right?”

Kylo nodded, his hands resting on the curve of your hips. “It’s developed over time. The first time it was like I could hear you speaking right against my ear, but it was like the connection was weak. I could hear you, but it was unclear.”

Slight heat nipped at your cheeks. “It was the morning after I stayed with you on Starkiller, right?” The morning you’d rode your fingers like they were Kylo’s as you wore the briefs he’d put out for you.

“That was a great morning for both of us, I think.”

“I like how easy you’re being right now,” you whispered, and you weren’t sure if you meant to say that aloud.

“I can be hard if you want me to. I am, actually. Very.” A smirk lit his face and he led one of your hands down to the hard press of his prominent erection along the fly of his pants.

“I’m sure we’ll get to that later,” you said, glancing a thumb along his length before placing your hand back on his chest.

“If you’re sure,” he mumbled, and he leaned in to brush his lips against the base of your neck. He pulled away and looked at you, a finger now tracing the length of the “K” etched into your thigh. “Now, though, if I want, I can hear you however far away you are, and it’s like you’re standing next to me.” He cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes, their focus landing on your lips when he said, “I think due to the strengthening of the connection…”

His heart skipped under your palm. It startled you so much you had to stop yourself from flinching. His heart skipped… for me. “Our connection is… stronger now?”

He swallowed, his heart steadied, and he murmured into the dying light, “I want it to be stronger.”

“Why? If you can hear me clearly, why would it need to be strengthened?”

Kylo lifted a hand so it smoothed over one side of your face and found its way to the nape of your neck. “I can hear your words, what you say out loud and to others. But not your thoughts. Never your thoughts.” His expression was far away for a moment, his thumb pressing idle circles along the length of your throat. “Sometimes, though, I feel what you feel. Only recently.”

“What I feel?”

“Strong emotions, mostly.” Kylo continued to stare over your shoulder, and something dark and dangerous settled in his jaw when he paused. “The first time I could recognize it for what it was – recognize it was you– was just before Starkiller fell. It was right after I’d been struck. I remember blinking up, blinking blood out of my eye as I was flat on my back willing myself to get up, and through the pain of my injuries came this surge of…” His nose scrunched, and his lip lifted into something of a snarl. “It felt like I was on fire. Not my face or my side. But like the Force was burning through my whole body. And then I heard you, like you were screaming right next to me, and you were screaming at someone to get off of you.”

Kylo paused, his chest entirely still, like breathing was hard where his mind had taken him. His hand dropped from your nape and absently curled around your wrist, toying with the band of your watch. The pad of your thumb drew slowly along his sternum, and you watched the warm amber of his irises drown in a stark, frigid black.

“And then I wasn’t burning. I felt my own injuries again, and I was no longer trying to move. I was laid out on my back, Starkiller crumbling all around me, and the only thought I had was that…” Kylo shuddered, the hand around your wrist stilled, and his jaw hardened to steel. “I thought you were dead. And I didn’t know why, but that thought stalled me. I should never have cared for you, but especially not then, not when I thought you’d betrayed me.”

Kylo looked at you then, the very last remnants of the sun a muted halo behind him, and whatever breath remaining in your lungs fled under his searing gaze. “I sent a signal to your watch, but that burning didn’t come back.” He swallowed. “You were dead, and I couldn’t… I wouldn’t move. I knew I had to, but all I did was fall into the absence of that burning. The absence of you.”

Once more you thought of how Kylo had looked at you in the dark of the Command Shuttle, remembered how you thought it was wonder or shock. With an ember of breath you croaked, “You thought I was dead.” Such a redundant statement, but you said it and you felt the haunt of that awed expression die away. “You thought I was dead, but then…”

“Then you were there, and I thought I had died.” Kylo slid his hand up your palm and clasped his fingers around yours, squeezing tight and pressing it to the middle of his chest. Just above his heart. “But then I heard your voice again, but it was different. You weren’t in my head, but you were with me. I tried to reach out to you, but I couldn’t. I warred in my mind until I realized you were there, but I wasn’t.”

“The coma.” Kylo had tried to reach out to your voice. You’d thought he hated you then, that he wouldn’t want to be violated by the one who had wounded him so deeply. He told you he’d heard you days ago, but knowing he wantedyou there, even if he never said otherwise – it struck through to your soul.

“I could just barely feel your hands. I heard everything you said and it was agony. To be there, listening to you blame yourself, hearing the guilt and pain in your voice – and not be able to do anything? It felt like I was burning from the inside out.”

Before you could process it, a hand was behind your nape and your mouth was against his. It wasn’t a violent kiss, no thrashing tongues or frantic lips; rather, it was a kiss full of dead regrets and roiling anguish. Kylo claimed your mouth in a slow, steady pace set by a war between pain and need. It was a kiss of mourning and grief.

His lips left yours but only enough so when you breathed, yours would glance off of them. He panted and swallowed, and the hand keeping yours to his chest spread your fingers so you could feel the deep, steady thump of his heart beneath them.

“But that moment, it was me burning, not you. Just before you left, when I felt your lips on mine and pleaded with my body to finally come back to me, your presence was like a salve. It found me through the darkness, and it calmed me, quieted the flames roaring in my mind, and it steadied me.”

As close as he was, he found your eyes, and you felt them sink deeply into your own. “You couldn’t have given me more,” he kissed your name to your lips, “because when I woke up, when I found my body and felt the braids, it was all real to me. You were real to me.” Kylo paused, breathed, and his heart skipped beneath your hand. “You couldn’t have given me more. You were alive. There will never be anything more than that.” He kissed you again, and this time it was hungry, ravenous as he stole your breath and claimed your mouth. “It was everything. It is everything.”

Words were thick in your throat, heavy in your mind, but the whole of what came from your parted lips, between the soft pants of breath that fell from them as he continued to nod his own full mouth into yours, were sighs and gasps of contentedness. In his arms, right now, after all was said and all was done, you thought for a moment that should you have died, you would have gone happily.

It was a feat to pull away from him, but you did, and you watched as the purple and orange of the sun wasted away behind him. “I am seeing Mason tomorrow because he’s letting me grab some clothes for the trial. And he’s been weird since Starkiller. And weirder since getting to Canto Bight. I know you don’t like him much, but he’s important to me, and I need to talk to him.” Kylo’s lashes lowered after his heavy gaze pulled away from you, the hand on your nape going back to trace the scar on your thigh. “Is that why you really came here? Because you overheard me this morning talking about visiting him?”

For a moment he remained quiet, the faintest touch of his fourth finger kissing your skin, but he looked up to you and found your eyes. “I’m here because you were still concerned with the Board, and even Hux, and knew if that was true, that it would also be true that you hadn’t listened to me. That you still didn’t trust me.”

“Kylo—”

“I should never have expected you to trust me so blindly, not after I’ve given you countless reasons not to.” He swallowed then, something of an apology knitting his brows together. “But for your own safety, you cannot know everything—”

“About the elusive “this” you keep referencing?”

“Yes,” he said, and his voice was clear and adamant. “By whatever means, you will survive this trial. Trust in that.”

“Okay,” you said, and you meant it. He’d said a lot today. It was enough. For now, at least. “But may I propose something that maybe you haven’t thought of?”

With a deep, cleansing breath, you took both his hands and dropped them in your lap, dismounting his leg and once more settling in the cradle of his thighs, propped on your knees as you met him with an unfaltering stare. “I will trust you, but you have to trust me back.” You trailed a finger over the secured IV you’d placed. “Trust me with more than your body. Trust me… wholly.”

Kylo seemed off-put by the thought of that, and he studied you for long, seemingly eternal minutes; he looked conflicted, like he was weighing every outcome of what that meant. When you thought he wouldn’t answer, he cleared his throat and said, “I’ve done that before.”

He had, you knew that, but you needed to say something before he decided he wouldn’t do so again. “And the only reason you stopped was because Snoke weaponized me, used me to get to you so he can have you in his arsenal, at his expense whenever he wants. You are more than that, Kylo. More than his or anyone’s to use. Do not let him win. Not again. Not anymore.”

His jaw steeled as each of your hard words met their mark with deadly precision. And when he spoke next, his tongue was a blade, his tone a sharp, unyielding promise. “He’s already lost. He just doesn’t know yet.”

“So it’s settled. I trust you, you trust me.”

There was hesitance, but he gave a single, curt nod. His brows knit for a moment and then his features seemed to soften. “I can get you clothes. Although, I do prefer you without them.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, but you knew what he was doing, and as endearing as it was, you wouldn’t yield to him on this. “I’m seeing Mason tomorrow, and no amount of dirty words or pretty clothes will change my mind.” You notched a brow. “You’ll just have to trust me, I guess.”

“Already abusing your power,” he purred, and he pulled you into him so your legs opened and splayed over his hips and behind him. “Don’t make me regret this decision.” His tongue traced along your carotid, followed by the plush press of his lips. “At least, not so soon.”

He pushed a hand into your hair and turned your neck to the side, sucking the tender skin until he surely left a mark. His teeth skated along the hinge of your jaw, his lips trailing up your chin until his skillful tongue pushed past the seam of your mouth. It found yours and led you into a breathtaking whirl of sensation. You moaned into him, loving his weighted breath, feeling his cock harden beneath, growing as you rolled your hips into him.

He hummed, slipping his tongue away and sucking your bottom lip, your hands leading into his thick, midnight locks as the room settled in the darkness of night. He nudged his nose into you and teased your lips again, chuckling as you leaned into his efforts and chased his toying mouth.

“Tell me one more thing,” he hummed, and his tone was decadent and rich, a pulse of heat lighting between your legs.

“Anything, Kylo,” you sighed, finally catching his mouth and biting his bottom lip.

“Were you going to mention that your friend is pregnant with the General’s illegitimate kid, or were you hoping I didn’t catch onto that part of your talk this morning?”

Well. If anything was going to kill the mood, that was it.

“You know,” you sighed, bracing yourself on his shoulders and pulling out of his embrace, “as much as I dislike General Hux, mentioning him doesn’t count as dirty talk.”

Kylo chuckled deep in his chest, and his mouth was twisted in a lopsided smirk. He insisted again, not a fowl note in his voice, “Were you going to tell me?”

“It wasn’t my news to tell.” You shoved his shoulder. “And it’s not yours either, understand?”

“Really? I was looking forward to congratulating him and sharing a few cigars with the father-to-be.” You shoved him again and he laughed, appearing so young as he put his hand atop yours and traced his thumb over the back of your hand. “I don’t plan on telling him. And I don’t care if your friend—”

“You are allowed to call her Talia. You’re also allowed to call him Mason, if you didn’t know.”

“I’m not very fond of being on a first-name basis with someone I don’t plan on ever knowing. As for the physician,” his brow ticked as you frowned at the title he used so often, “I just don’t like him.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I don’t care if Harper”—you smiled at the compromise—“tells him or not. I’d actually find it quite funny if she kept it from him until the very last second. He could use a good kick in the pants.”

“So, you really won’t tell him, then?” You pushed a lock of hair back from his temple with your free hand.

He sighed exaggeratedly, and the next thing you knew, you were in the air and being lifted to sit on the edge of the exam table, Kylo’s hands resting on the tops of your thighs. “No, I won’t tell the General of his bastard lovechild. Or maybe I will,” he raised a teasing brow, “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, leading the flat of your hand up the rigid muscles of his chest.

“Really,” he breathed in answer, dipping his head and laving his tongue past your lips, stroking it against your own as his hands caught the hem of your uniform and pulled it from the length of your body.

Your hands lifted for him, and soon you were bare – bare to the cool room, bare to the city that sprawled behind you. Bare to him. The only remaining article was his black briefs. His mouth was on your neck, kissing and biting and sucking along your pulse. Large, bold hands slid down the curved lines of your sides, thumbs petting over your belly. Kylo leaned down to your chest, kissing into the tender flesh, mouthing at the swell of your breast until he pulled a nipple into his mouth and tongued over it, around it, until your head fell back and a long, throaty groan left you.

“I need to taste you,” he breathed, taking his mouth from your breast only for a moment.

A needy hand found the back of his neck, and you pulled him closer as you arched into his mouth, into the heat of his tongue trailing to take your other nipple between his plump, scorching lips. He looked up at you, heated amber seeping into your eyes as you saw his mouth move and felt his tongue draw on the tip of your breast.

Kylo smirked when you shuddered against him, and then his hands left you. There was a metallic squeak, and he popped your breast from his mouth. When you looked down at him next, his eyes were full of mischief and a tantalizing glint that made your heart drop.

Kylo had pulled out a set of stirrups that had been locked beneath the table. And by that damn glint in his eye, you knew his every intention. You knew, too, by that very same glint, you wouldn’t need convincing.

“Trust me?” he asked, and the devil lived in the smirk that spread across his face.

“I probably shouldn’t.”

“Much too late for that.”

Kylo leaned forward like a predator readying to strike. First his mouth found yours, kissing you deeply, his hands cupping the back of your neck. Then, he kissed down to your breasts, tonguing a nipple, looking up at you when he bit down. A rumble rolled in the depths of his chest. Large hands smoothed over the curves of your silhouette, gripped your thighs and led you toward the edge of the table.

He stopped for a moment, his chin skimming your soft belly, his gaze a vice grip on your own. And when he had you positioned as he wanted, his thumbs curled into the briefs’ waistline and he pulled them out from under you. Kylo stopped once he uncovered your sex; keeping his eyes on yours, a tether of pure lust between you, he dipped his head and dragged his nose over your mound. His inhale was self-indulgent, slow and torturous, his eyes slipping back before his lids shut, the smell of you seemingly a drug of the highest potency.

Kylo groaned, inhaling a second time, the fog of his exhale flourishing over your tender, slick flesh. He slipped the briefs free from your legs, holding your ankles in one massive, binding hand.

“As much as I enjoy you wearing what’s mine,” he hummed, a hand under each ankle now, and leaned down to join his nose to the supple skin of your inner thigh, dragging ever closer to the pulse now aching to be attended to, “I admit taking it off you is much more satisfying.” His lips pressed into the sensitive flesh, his hot exhale whispering along the top of you slit. “Ask me why that is.”

Heat was enveloping your body, and your breasts heaved as breath came in short, harsh pants, but when you went to speak, Kylo’s tongue distracted you. Just before the question left your lips, he sucked the skin of your inner thigh and bit down. And as you moaned at the heady sensation – that wondrous pleasure pain – his arm encircled the leg already attended to and blindly placed it into the hard cradle of the stirrup. When it was secure, his hand slinked up the length of your body, grasping your breast while he kissed and sucked and nipped at your left thigh.

“Why,” you breathed out, unsure if you said anything, head spinning impossibly.

“Because,” Kylo crooned, muffled against the tissue he mouthed at, “the clothes are mine, but so are you. And I am undone at the sight of what is mine bared and sprawled for my taking.”

Soft, pretty moans slipped from you when he repeated the process of placing your leg in the second stirrup, his words a sweet poison in your thrumming veins. Once you were settled, and after he’d kissed his way up your calf, he stood between your raised legs – the sight of his purely masculine form laving your nerves with anticipation and lust – and watched, perhaps too intently, as he pushed your legs apart until you were sure you’d split in two.

In the light of fresh dusk, the notch in his throat bobbed, the weight of his gaze settled on the sight of your dripping, desperate cunt. Kylo’s tongue dipped into sight momentarily, glinting when it unthinkingly swept over his bottom lip. His eyes remained steady, the flat of his palms lighting sparks along your inner legs, and you watched as he brushed two long fingers down your folds, parting your sex and slipping through the wetness that was welled there.

Finally, his gaze lifted, the scalding, rich amber of his irises melting into you when the thick tips of his fingers prodded your entrance. Kylo watched you, enthralled, as those fingers sunk into you, deeply, wholly, filling you until you writhed around them.

Eager hips lifted from the table, leveraging the stirrups, guiding him that much deeper. He granted your silent wish, grasping one hip and pulling you forward, leading his fingers back and forth, curling them upward and pressing that oh-so-decadent spot in a paced, torturous pattern. You met him with each thrust, slowly rolling your hips, raising your hands to touch and mold your breasts.

A strong thumb found residence over the aching body of your clit, your answering moan unapologetic and entirely too loud. He rolled his hand over and inside you, stroking and filling you so masterfully that you quickly felt the first stirrings of orgasm.

Right when you were poised to cum, you felt it, felt a third finger push into your cunt, the sensation indulgent and overwhelming. It’s like his hand was lodged so full and far in your body that you could feel him in your throat. Kylo continued stroking your nerve as your hands clutched the edges of the exam table, your back arched and head flung back. The room was filled with sounds of sex, the smell of it too, and it all built on what you knew would be a world-shattering release.

“I feel so full, Kylo,” you moaned.

Before he answered, heat crowded your torso, and the brand of his lips burned the line of your breastbone, the hand that filled you never stalling. “You can take more, though.” His nose nudged the base of your breast, his teeth glancing off of the tender tissue. “You can, and you will.”

He didn’t know what he was saying, because there was no way—

“Oh, fuck,” you mewled, throaty and deep, when you felt a fourth finger fill your brimming cunt. “Kylo, there’s… oh, I can feel you… everywhere. You’re everywhere.”

It was no lie, the flow of his four thick, long fingers deep inside your soaked pussy engulfed every nerve you had, and the way his thumb continued to stroke your clit made it so you felt like your soul would float from your body.

But then that thumb left, Kylo moved down the length of your abdomen, kissing and claiming, until you felt his tongue draw against that bundle of nerves. The hand that grasped your hip anchored your writhing body to the table, but the press of his fingers suddenly deepened. Then, just as suddenly, occurring in the very same breath, you felt his thumb join those other four fingers.

A guttural, animal cry born from the deepest depths of your lungs filled the room and shattered against the night-peering transparisteel. His whole hand, fisted and tight, moved against you, filled you unthinkably, and snapped the last coil of sanity that bound your body and soul. His mouth sucked your clit, his tongue striking you with tight, paced licks.

It was all too much, he was too much – his hand, his mouth – your body bowing from the table, legs shaking and sweaty. Every sensation drenched your skin, every shared word blared through your mind, and ecstasy rushed you with a force that rivaled that which precipitated the fall of Starkiller.

Luminous, you were a nebula at the mercy of a black hole. Though you knew the deep pull of him left you broken and breathless, you found yourself surrendering to it, and it called to you just the same. He blazed with darkness while you drowned him with light; in this moment, neither of you could tell where one ended and the other began.

Slowly, the world around you reentered your thoughts. The sound of heavy, breathless pants spilled from your parted lips. A branding heat covered your front, and your hand had at some point come to tangle into Kylo’s hair, scratching the back of his head in idle patterns. There was a slight ache coming from the now vacant space of where he’d just had his hand, but it was pleasant in a way. You opened your eyes, and you couldn’t help your gasp.

The stars were out tonight. They looked so different from when you were in space, far away yet crowding every inch of the evening sky. Clusters twinkled on one end, groups seemingly traveling together. Every so often, as you spent minutes on your back admiring the night’s speckled beauty, a hazy cloud would drift in and out of view. Some were a dusky orange, others a lush violet that cast such complementary shadow over the backdrop of the star-brimming sky.

“The stars are out,” you murmured, melting into the feel of his weight covering you.

Kylo didn’t say anything, but you felt the soft press of his lips dip into your belly. Then lower, and lower. His actions carried no sexual intent, and you soon learned why.

A certain reverence lived in the hand that brushed over the scar etched into your left thigh. Kylo’s thumb swept over the raised, healed lines of his initials, circling the area over and over again. Soon, the warm breath of his exhales grazed the exposed skin, and you gasped when you felt the familiar touch of his lips.

He kissed the flesh there, a kiss of longing, a kiss full of silent… apology? No, not apology. Not sorrow or remorse. It was a kiss of gratitude, and you thought you could hear the soft murmurings of words too quiet to comprehend just as he pressed his lips again to those two precise etchings that would live on you forever.

You lifted your left leg from the stirrup and led it down his back, hooking it around his hips before leading the other in the same path. He looked at you then, and you leaned up and cupped his jaw in your hands before pulling him up and kissing him softly. He held your waist and lowered his head as you moved your mouth against his.

When your hands led down the pane of his abdomen, you broke away from him and held his eyes in your own. Even with so little light, there was something bright about them now, like the smoking embers of a long-burned fire. The scar that cut through his features was healing, you regarded, and you made a mental note to have a physician remove the black-and-white stitching that remained nestled across his cheek.

His eyes narrowed for a second, but he turned away before you could question it. Kylo took your discarded clothes from the floor and helped you redress. His touch was achingly gentle, such a contrast to what you knew he could do to people with the strength imbedded in his soul. Soon the hooks of your bra were met and the light caress of his briefs returned to your hips. You held your arms up as he slid your uniform over your head and onto your waiting body.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Kylo nodded and began gathering his clothes. You slid from the exam table and slipped your shoes on, wandering to the wall of windows and peering out over the city. It was truly magnificent, especially now that it surrounded you with all the life of night buzzing down below. It carried this silent threat that it could swallow you whole if you allowed it.

Then, from the corner of your eye, you spotted what Quynnland had been staring at so intently. It was closer now, and you could see that it was a large, hollow structure. It was a racing track, like you’d thought, but it was enormous. There was movement inside of it, but even squinting you couldn’t quite catch any detail of what was going on.

Warm hands met your shoulders, and you knew he wore his gloves now. “Why are you staring at the fathier track?”

“Fathiers?” you wondered aloud, leaning into him and clasping a hand over one of his.

“Racing creatures that serve as entertainment to the corrupt wealth that live in this city. Impressive beings, really.” He leaned down and his lips caressed the shell of your ear. “What’s interested you with them?”

“I had a patient today. He told me his brother is there. His kid brother.” You swallowed, offput by the memory of how helpless Quynnland had sounded, had appeared as he told you this. “He asked me to get him away from there.”

Kylo tensed behind you, and a long push of breath fogged the side of your neck. “Always trying to save everyone.”

“I won’t get myself killed. I promise.” You sighed, running your hand down the length of his arm. “Did you take that IV out? You should have let me help.”

“I’m healing, not incapacitated.” Kylo took a step back from you and you turned, seeing him waiting for you at the door. “We should get back to the Consulate. I’m sure your shadow has given her report by now.” A half-smirk pulled his mouth up.

“Why does it look like you think that’s a good thing?” You walked over to him and he activated the door, the two of you stepping out and meandering through unfamiliar halls.

“If he suspects that there is something going on between you and I, Hux would likely use that information when he testifies next week. But, to claim you had inappropriate relations with me would force him to publicly acknowledge that all similar relations between any provider and their assignment are inherently inappropriate…”

Kylo pulled open a door and let you pass, the two of you walking toward a transport docking bay stationed at the top of the medical structure. When you stood in front of a familiar transport, he stopped next to you and you watched as the entrance descended to let you in.

Kylo stepped forward, his boots heavy on the ramp, and he turned and looked at you with features gilded in prideful victory. “As much as Armitage Hux dislikes you and hates me, he is an intelligent man. He would never make himself appear so weak by publicly contradicting himself by shaming you for fucking your assignment when he is actively doing the same with his provider.”

He spoke so powerfully, it was like the night around you had quieted to hear him. You took a breath, all the air having seeped from your lungs under the weight of his adamant eyes. “And you’re sure of that?”

Kylo held out a gloved hand, offered it to you before he said, his voice the deepest caress, “Do you trust me?”

In that moment, with the night cloaking you from the city, with the words he’d earlier spoken echoing around your mind, and the touch he’d painted your body with that was altogether yearning and claiming at once, you knew you did. Wholly and completely, and perhaps too much, you trusted him.

So you took his hand, and you looked up at him with the same strength that lived in his eyes, and said, without a single doubt in your mind, or your heart, “Yes, Kylo. I trust you.”

[cottoncandyjester]

Its been so long since we've seen Ren, Whats he upto?

Still aroused by insects ✨ when he isn’t clinging to his darling he’s being a platonic yandere to his brother

Warning this contains:yandere behavior,drugging, mention of mutilation at the end.

Ren knew what he did was bad, he really shouldn’t have done it but he couldn’t help but use some snake venom to drug rin. He wanted to bring him home and so he did. “Big brother is here rinny” ren cooed out as he pressed the cold damp rag against rin’s sleeping face.

Ren does feel a little guilty for taking rin when he was working at a birthday party, rin always did drop his guard around children. As ren stared at his sleeping brother he couldn’t help but giggle, he’s never seen rin this vulnerable, he wanted this moment to last forever. Ren glanced at the syringe on the nightstand before glancing at his watch, he should give rin the antidote to the venom but he didn’t want to..not yet, let him have his brother for a few more moments.

Rin started to wake up, panic flooding his system when he felt it was hard to breathe. He glanced over and saw ren sitting by the bed, he reached out for the male only for ren to hold his hand. “I’m here rinny! Just for you, your brother is here..” ren whispers out as he pressed rin’s hand to his cheek flinching at how cold it felt.

Rin started to hack and cough, face turning blue and foam dripping from his mouth. Ren grabbed the syringe from the nightstand before injecting it into rin’s arm, getting up from his seat. “Now that you’re awake I should make you breakfast! You stay right there okay? Rest up” ren cheers out as he walked out the room, the door giving a loud click.

Rin laid in the bed, shaking and wheezing before gasping for air, the color returning to his face. He wasn’t sure how he got here but it was clear that ren changed his clothes which gave rin shivers thinking about how that sicko stripped him down.

Rin slowly got out the bed stumbling slightly as he tried to unlock the door only to find it locked, yeah that would’ve been too easy. The bedroom was small with it only having one window. Rin walked over and was about to open the window when he heard a click, he turned around to see ren with a bag of food.

“Ah..I realized I’m not the best cook or anything so getting you food would be better than cooking it” he said before noticing rin was out of bed and about to open the window. Ren put the beg down before rushing over to rin who at this point thought of several ways to kill him.

“If you open that you’ll die, I triggered a bomb specifically for this window.” Ren said calmly. Rin gave a scoff “as if I’ll believe that! Take me the fuck home!” Rin snapped out, wincing as ren suddenly hugging him tightly.

“I missed you rinny, I missed you so much that it hurt. We can be a family again, you’ll stay with me forever and ever..the world out there can burn, but it’s okay cause we have each other” ren whispers out as he started to take something out his pocket.

Rin struggled trying to push the male off but he was exhausted, drained of most his energy. “F-fucker! Get off..” Rin mumbled out before feeing a poke on his side…

Fuck.

Rin tried to fight the urge to sleep but he soon fell limp in ren’s arms. Ren scooped rin up into his arms before giving a long sigh “the more I love you the more you try to run away, I have to fix that” he whispers out softly before carrying rin out the room and towards the basement.

There laid a n examination table with a tray of various tools next to it. He laid rin down before restraining his arms and legs. Ren then picked up a bone saw from the tray of tools it pained him to know that he was going to hurt rin but legs were just too much of a risk for rin to have.

So ren cut them off and fed them to his flesh eating bugs. If rin behaved maybe he’ll get him prosthetics but now he knew rin would never leave his side and they can be brothers forever.