inappropriately timed force bond moments (both nsfw and humor approaches)
dream-sharing
emotional bleed/transference (from rey, involving other parties)
inappropriate force bond voyeurism on rey/poe or rey/finn
mid-conversation force bond interruption
The Rise of Skywalker- Cross-galaxy chase of the Resistance
anything related to ben solo, but especially:
snoke confessionals with family or friends of family
returning to the light
smuggler life style
jedi knight ben
resistance-fighter ben
The Rise of Skywalker- Force Ghost communications w/ Rey
anything related to supreme leader kylo ren, but especially:
fall via coup
resistance fighter reconditioning (gen or nsfw)
force ghost visits from anakin/luke/rey/leia/snoke
defeat by the resistance, and subsequent aftermath
The Rise of Skywalker- Mole Discovery w/ Hux
canto bight:
shady weapons deals
picking up prisoners
recruitment
obligatory dinner party
general casino shenanigans
beach party
basically any reason you can think of to use canto bight as a setting piece
A note on romance: I will ship all of the new trilogy characters with Kylo Ren (except Snoke/Family). But I have no interest in exploring domestic-style takes on them. Thank you for understanding.
[Kylo Ren’s bond to the Force could never be called into question at the height of the war. But that had been when all of the threads binding him to it were in tact. With his mother gone and Rey sequestered somewhere far away, Kylo Ren’s power dwindled. No one ever saw, of course — if General Hux ever got wind of it, his reign would end overnight. Nobody was particularly happy with the new Supreme Leader, no more than they were with the previous. But as far as the galaxy knew, he held all the cards. There was no challenging him.
They were wrong, of course. Rey’s distance did not come without consequence. He was still a broad man, but where he had once been muscular, he had atrophied. Now he was simply lean, his eyes sunken and his skin pale. He suspected that, before long, the Dark would sap the last of his strength and he would be left looking just like Snoke had before he’d speared him.
Naturally, when he feels the first brush of their minds, Kylo Ren pursues Rey with a singular focus. He takes a few stormtroopers, in hopes that they will be able to do what he could not.]
I want her alive.
[He spits it feverishly at his troops (who promptly scurry off), desperately clawing on the opposite end of the bond in hopes to recouperate their shared strength before he runs out entirely.]
[ Like a wild animal — starved for too long and made more feral for it — she can sense him pace restlessly at the threshold of their minds. The Force recoils from it, a shrieking klaxon in her mind, even as it tentacles outward toward him. A traitorous parasite, uncertain if it means to restore balance through a peace that has shattered or balance it with their demise.
Rey winces with it, flinches from it. The warmth it promises, pouring back into her, is worse than any ringing in her skull — a special brand of cruelty after all that she has suffered. A reminder of what might have been.
At the very least, it offers her strength to zip through the crowd until there is nowhere to go but endless dunes. It's territory she knows better, a viper in its den. That has to be as much an advantage as the burst of power that surges through her, buzzing through her nerve-endings with an acute awareness. Returned to her, as Kylo Ren has.
She had never asked for either.
Swiveling her gaze over her shoulder, she turns to reach out toward the advancing troopers that have caught her scent. The grit of her snarling teeth is concealed in the dark shadow of her cloak as her fingers curl, all three choking for breath as they struggle, fingers clawing at their armor as if it might allow them to fight for oxygen.
Finn had been among them. There could have been others like him — lost, afraid, unable to know any other life. Now, all she can see is the embodiment of a prison waiting for her, his troops come to steal the only thing she has left in her possession: herself, and the freedom she has secured. ]
[Kylo’s head snaps like a dog’s when he feels the Force tug him toward his troopers, and he digs deep to increasee the speed at which he runs. By the time he gets there, a crowd has surrounded them, and Rey has taken off. He searches around them wildly, yanking on the tattered remains of the bond despite how it recoils from him violently as causes him to flinch. She has gotten ahead, into the dunes.
He does not stop and wait for the troopers to recover. Instead, he elbows his way through the crowd until he gets to where many of the speeders are parked. The next unfortunate soul that comes to activate their’s is yanked off by the Force so that the Supreme Leader can climb aboard instead. It is then a matter of kicking it into gear and launching into the sand after her with only a broken bond to guide him.
Now that he has left his strike team behind, wrangling her will settle on his shoulders, and he has yet to discover how he might coax her without them. Their strength in the Force was strongest when they were together, but that obviously does not matter to her. To her, it is poison — and maybe in some part, she is right.
But he needs it. And he needs her. So his reckless pursuit continues.]
[ The Doaba Badlands are not kind. The arid humidity greets her as she scales rolling hills, experience lending to fleet-footed steps, but the speedy familiarity of her pace is no match for the blurring whir of a speeder.
The fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand to attention as its droning fills her ears. The Force buzzes in tandem, an unwelcome cocktail that staggers the faltering musculature in her legs before she recovers. He's here, it seems to whisper as it stirs the air around her, rejoicing and recoiling all at once.
Rey spares him no glance, unwilling to slow herself down to gauge the closing distance between them. Even that affords him an investment she is not eager to give. Beginning to exhaust her energy reserves, she breaks into a sprint just as the speeder begins to kick up sand and eroded rock behind her, realizing — belatedly — that she is leading him straight to the shelter she has claimed for herself in the heart of the desert. A cave looming in the distance, near to Socorro's volcanic rocks and sparse oases.
It will not surprise her if he destroys that, too, just as he has devastated all that he has ever touched. ]
[The speeder starts to grind as the terrain becomes more unforgiving, his grip going white knuckle to keep him from being bucked off or thrown sideways. He'll have no hope of catching her in her own territory if he falls behind, and he will undoubtedly die in the heat before anyone can be signaled to retrieve him.
The vehicle snarls as it catapults off a dune, and Kylo Ren pulls on his renewed strength to jump off while it is still flying to tackle Rey into the sand before she can reach her sanctuary. There are two outcomes that he does not consider:
One, the force of his landing buries them both in the sand.
Two, Rey's superior handling of the desert allows her to overpower him and drown him there.
The third outcome, which is what he imagines will happen, is that he will need to restrain her not long after he pins her with his weight to keep her from fighting back. Regardless of the above, Rey will be treated to a hoarse and triumphant hiss.]
[ There is nothing graceful in how they topple. Sand fills Rey's mouth, the hood of her cloak as it's knocked away by the force of their fall to reveal the gaunt lines of her cheekbones. Sunken, sharp, like the fragile curve of her collarbone above the black cut of her tunic.
The spitting, scorching anger in her gaze is more emotion than her deadened stare has held in weeks. He has taken so much from her; she will not allow him to have her, too. Rey's teeth gnash, spittle flying from her mouth as she leans upward to grit, ]
They were right.
[ He'll learn. Rey's head rears back — and then her skull slams forward against the protrusion of his nose in an effort to stun him off of her, colliding so forcefully that black spots appear in her vision. ]
[She earns a snarl for her troubles, but the headbutt only serves to make him clamp down harder on her, spitting blood aside as it streams down his wild expression. At least he's polite enough not to spit it directly in her mouth.]
Were they? Here you are.
[He struggles to wrestle her prone enough that she can't retaliate easily over his bulk -- or what is left of it. It gives him time to get a good look at her face, and the lines time has carved there.]
[ Sharp and snarling, she corrects him immediacy, unable to withstand his imitation of kindness. The pale imitation of what once was. Kylo Ren has proven he does not care for her beyond how she can best serve his ambitions, his needs. ]
How does it feel? [ The exertion of fighting against his grip, gloved fingers stabbing into her ribs as he makes an attempt to wrestle her onto her stomach, turns her rebuttal winded. Even still, Rey does not stop thrashing, bringing her knee up to block him. ] Knowing I chose to waste away over being with you?
[ The bite of that anger is frigid, cold, aiming to wound as he had wounded her. Nothing like the simmering sparks of heat she had once possessed when she had possessed fiery hope. He underestimates them both if he believes she would not choose agony, even now, to bring him the suffering he deserves.
If not for his hands on her, she would not hesitate to end them both. To reach for her lightsaber, hidden within her cloak, to drive its double blades between their chests. Instead, she settles for clawing haplessly at his cheek, blunt nails struggling to gain any purchase. ]
[It hurts. She will no doubt feel the way he cringes on the other side of the bond, clear as a bell now that they are so connected. His face hardly shifts except for a minute twitch in the corner of his mouth, blood dripping off his chin and down onto her.
It takes a long moment for his heart to harden again, his expression wrinkling in disgust.]
It does not matter, you see. [It does matter.] I do not need you to be with me for what I need.
[That, at least, is true in his mind. Whatever the Force had done to them, how it sings or how it infects them, he just needs the proximity.]
[ Liar. It has to matter, has to be yet another reason she still lives — that deluded belief that, with nowhere else to turn, she might return to him. The accusation pings loudly in their newly revived connection, though she derives no pleasure in it as she had imagined she might. Compared to the wounds he has given her, unseen but festering, she has only delivered a minor scratch in retribution.
In the end, nothing will bring them back. Still, Rey viciously hunts for some satisfaction that his superficial injuries and desolation cannot give her. Some feeling that is not desperate rage and endless grief. It's almost cruel that he won't gift it to her by harming her in return, but Rey refuses to be so naive as to believe he can't bring himself to strangle the air from her.
No. That isn't it. Kylo Ren doesn't know what mercy is. ]
That's right. You need me. [ Her eyes flutter closed, as if searching for peace she cannot find. Peace she has not had since the Resistance crumbled. Steadily, his blood drips down onto her, skating down her chin to pool in the dips of her clavicle. Another trail trickles onto her lower lip. Just the copper tang of it seems to breathe new essence into her. ] And I don't need you.
[ If she has not made that clear. She'll find a way to end herself before he can ever lay any claim to her. All she has now are her hands, falling from him to settle on her own windpipe. Exerting pressure, even knowing it will be futile. ]
[Her words are like venom that he cannot siphon from the bond, and he has to avoid looking at her for a moment while he collects his emotions and shoves them into a box. Once that is done, he has to spit more blood aside before he can try again.]
Rey--stop!
[And then he sees what she is doing. She will earn the pleasure of seeing panic slip across his face, even when he knows that her gesture is symbolic rather than anything that would be effective. He shifts wildly to exert pressure on her nerve instead with the intent of knocking her out before she can strangle herself.
He doesn't bother to consider that the severance of the bond might allow his power back in full. The option simply isn't on the table. If he'd been able to kill Rey, he would have done it long before now. He doesn't just need her. He wants her.
When she wakes again. She will be in his quarters on the command shuttle, and he will be finishing off the last knot that he has tied to the foot of his bed keeping her arms apart. After that display, he is not about to give her the opportunity to do it again. Binders would give her too much flexibility.
The blood has dried on his face.]
It did not have to be this way, you know. This wasn't what I wanted.
[ Even in sleep, Rey finds no peace. The memories come as they always do, taunting and nightmarish, spurring her into waking from her murmuring and twitching with a start. A gasping inhale follows as she moves to launch herself upward, yanking in confusion when her limbs fail to push her from the mattress. Tug, tug, tugging as her heart pounds wildly in her chest, seized by the rush of panic.
Another bad dream in which Kylo Ren had found her once again, she tells herself, but blinking the sleep from her eyes sharpens her vision. This isn't her haven, her cave; her breathing picks up, a loud echo in the room around them, like a beast that has just noticed its leg in a trap.
The footboard rattles as she thrashes, trying to jerk away from his voice without fully comprehending what he's telling her. It jars her shoulder, popping in her socket, from the amount of wrenching she has done — but Rey continues through her muffled, strangled cry of pain. Furious tears burn at the corners of her eyes, no matter how she tries to beat them back. ]
Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?
[ Hissing like a wild thing, Rey shoots her leg outward in an attempt to kick him. Staying so near to her had been his own mistake. She'll take her blows where she can get them, even if it all feels so hollow in the aftermath. ]
I don't care what you want. You did this!
[ To himself. To her. To the Resistance. He won't even allow her the respect of letting her end it once and for all. In the end, this was the path he had chosen, doubling down when she had begged him to join her in the light. She has no pity to spare him. Whatever she had felt for Ben Solo, she has convinced herself he had killed that, too. ]
[He winces when he feels the shoulder pop on the other end of the bond, so much so that he is sat flat on his back by the kick she manages to land. He does not get up right away -- there is no way she can break those bonds without an excessive amount of work, and some part of him knows that he deserves her ire.
And -- some part of him had wanted this. He wanted to see Rey's vicious streak in all of its glory, and he had gotten his wish. But some foolish part of him still believed she might come to understand, to join him by his side and unleash her hatred on the galaxy that had wronged her.]
If you really wanted to die, you would have done it long before I found you again.
[He says this from the floor, out of reach of her kicking.]
Is that what you tell yourself to help the pain? Have you fooled yourself into believing I wanted to be found by you?
[ He has shown her his soft underbelly in hoping that she might still be turned to his cause, still might be saved, still might be his. Rey's words aim to target it, prodding cruelly — tauntingly, almost, for how she openly scoffs at the idea. Kylo Ren had always reduced her to feeling like a lost child in need of answers; now, it seems he is clinging at something, anything, to convince himself of a better future for himself. Unable to accept the consequences. In that moment, she hates him even more for it.
She doesn't hesitate to try to drive the knife in deeper, ripping through any illusions, when she snaps, ]
I was waiting for the distance to kill us both. [ If she could not attack him directly, it would have to suffice. A decent enough strategy, effective, until he had finally found her. Above all else, he would be made to feel as empty, suffering alongside her. ] I would choose that fate a thousand times over if it meant getting away from you.
[His hands have folded on his chest, and he opens them in a sort of hapless shrug. for her to witness from the area he has bound her to. She might be able to hear the pleased smile in his voice when he speaks again]
Because now you are here. And I'll keep you alive as long as I need. If you refuse food, I will force feed you. If you find some clever way to strangle yourself, I will bind you further. If that is the life you choose, then so be it. But you see Rey -- I've already won.
[A hollow victory, but at this rate, he will take the victories he can get. He leans upward to observe her reaction to this information, a blank stare in his eyes. He lifts a hand to stroke at her cheek.]
[ Even in all of her certainty, Rey can't resist the weakness she displays in jerking away from him. The touch he offers is too intimate, too familiar, not to feel as if it is trying to pry into old wounds and rip them back open. Awakening the woman she once was by showing her the gentleness she had once longed for, that she had once thought him capable of.
As if threatening to keep her breathing is a blessing and not a curse, compassion he thinks he's providing her. A war he believes he is winning. ]
Rey is dead. You killed her when you destroyed the Resistance.
[ Whatever scraps had been left of her when the smoke had cleared, they aren't enough for her to resemble what she once was. She tries to take comfort in that knowledge, aware Kylo Ren is latching onto sentiment, wishing for the woman that had once promised him comfort, understanding, light.
The numb, assured hollowness hasn't left her voice when she continues. ]
What you have is a shell. A body. [ A consolation prize. He'll get tired of it eventually, aching for more. She only needs to wait. ] I will never belong to you as anything more than that.
[She jerks away, and he makes a noise of curious interest. His head tilts just so, eyes narrowing in that studious way they often did when he found something new. His fingers curl, his tongue wetting his lips. His hand captures her chin to force her to look at him.]
I think Rey is too stubborn to die. Or did you forget...?
[His finger curves to stroke along her cheek. Whether or not she finds comfort or joy or misery in his affection does not really matter to him. He can see the effect -- and it balms his loneliness that has suffered through so many years.]
I see it. The way you cringe away from me. What you desire, the things you miss.
[He nods, knowing the blow he dealt by annihilating the Resistance. It had not been easy for him. He still refused to even think of his mother, whether or not she had escaped the canon fire. It had been years since the smoke cleared -- it is safe to assume she is gone, and he no longer has to dedicate thought to any of it.]
And I can do a lot of things with a body. Let alone your body, so connected that we are.
[ The muscle in her jaw jumps beneath the skin, made more evident by the taut pull of skin over her bone structure where malnutrition has kicked back in. He is right, to some extent; Rey might have fallen with the Resistance, but the woman that has been left in her place is still so obstinate, fixing her gaze upon his with an enraged defiance.
She won't award him the pleasure of looking away, of witnessing her struggle. Already he is basking too heavily in her belligerence without adding more thrashing to the list. ]
I don't miss them. Not from you.
[ Not anymore, Rey thinks to herself, even in her wretched loneliness. He isn't Ben Solo, the man she might have imagined if he had not gone astray. Kylo Ren had slaughtered him, too, that day. Neither is he Finn, soft and gentle — or Leia, nurturing and kind. His touch means nothing to her when it is pure possession rather than compassion, rather than love. Images of each flash through her mind, more painful for knowing they're gone.
Bile rises in her throat, bound to choke her for the threat she inherently detects in his promise. He won't be happy until he's taken everything that is still hers, spared from him on Crait. Made every part of her his, believing it will bring her back to him. ]
[Not entirely -- she believes that she does not miss Kylo Ren. She misses Ben Solo, who is dead. But she is not studious enough to separate their faces, their bodies. Only their mannerisms. And that won't be enough, once she has been tied to his bed for long enough.]
I know enough.
[She has succeeded in shutting down his concern for how she might perceive him -- if she wants the monster, then that's what she'll get. It is easier to lean into, without the hope there to guide him elsewhere.]
I know that you blame me for all of them. That's alright. Everyone always gives up eventually. I can bear this too.
[His thumb traces up along her lip, admiring the feel of them with bare fingers, mindful of the joint should she decide to try and bite down. She is not quite skin and bones yet, but he can spot the signs of malnutrition. Whether or not she eats, she will need an IV of fluids and nourishment. It would be the quickest way to get her healthy again.]
Fight, if you need. But what's done is done, and the galaxy needs us now.
[ Each syllable brushes what's left of the softness of her mouth — cracked and dry, eroded from the desert's unforgiving climate — against the pad of his thumb, but Rey refuses to recoil. Knowing he must desire it, searching for the parts of her he has missed, is reason enough to deny it to him.
It goes against the very fiber of what she is to offer numb indifference, but it feels like a revelation. A new way of approaching him, now that she believes she is aware of his attempts to draw her spirit out, make her remember herself. Hoping she will fight in order to feel he has earned her surrender if it were to come. ]
You won't get anything from me.
[ And that makes all the difference. He can take it, but she will never give it willingly. Kylo Ren is a fool to believe that will ever be enough to slake his hunger, that she will come to him if he is patient enough (as if he has ever possessed patience, Rey thinks to herself). Rey's eyes finally leave his, glazing over as she directs them somewhere above his head. ]
[He does not believe for a second that she will not fight him, but her claims draw out the stubborn desire to push her -- even after all those years, he is still incredibly predictable.]
Well, if you won't fight...
[He reaches to untie one of her hands in a deliberately slow manner -- he has no doubt that she can outlast him in a game of patience, but she has done him the favor of nearly dislocating her shoulder prior to this moment. If she does, in fact, try to fight him...it should not be difficult to restrain her again. He'd just walk out with more bruises than he first anticipated.
And right now, that doesn't sound so bad. He was never one to shy away from physical pain -- quite the opposite, actually.]
[ Her heartbeat picks up, fluttering in her ribcage, as she follows his fingers to her wrists. The makeshift binders have done their share of damage, chafing the skin until it is red and raw beneath the wrappings he carefully untangles.
He's a fool. She would be a greater fool to act on impulse and reach for the lightsaber still buried within her cloak. If nothing else, he has done her the favor of wanting her to be awake before he tried to touch her. Waiting for an opportune moment is wiser.
Rey says nothing, though a flash of pain does spike between them as the weight of her arm drops — heavy from being in one position, sore from all of her thrashing. It jostles her shoulder again, an agonizing burst of pain, but she gives no voice to it beyond a grunt — even as fresh tears threaten to spring to her eyes, turning them glossy.
They never fall. Tears had never gotten her anywhere, after all. Instead, she focuses on drawing her arm back to her, watching him all the while to ensure it isn't a greater trick than it already is for his attempts to provoke her into action, observing him like an animal distrusting the hunter that had locked it in a cage and now thinks to free it. ]
[And like a hunter, he observes her reaction, from the flinch of pain to the tears that spring to her eyes and the way she curls in on herself. He is slower with the second binding, drawing on the few memories he still keeps packed away -- memories of how to keep an interaction intimate in its control, how to possess and own every slow slip of the rope as he unknots it and leaves Rey to her relief.
And he is leaning over her to continue this observation, a shadow covering a good portion of her body as he digs for the familiar signs of Rey -- the fight, the belligerence, the survival instinct. He craves it, practically vibrates with the need to feel it in the bond again. So engrossed in it, he seems to have nearly forgotten his cause for recapturing her in the first place.
His focus is singular, enough that his commlink can be seen flashing on the banister away from them as he ignores yet another summons.
She hasn't struck him yet beyond that first kick. Hell, she hasn't even tried to struggle -- so he gets bolder. The hand that had been playing with her lower lip drags back to thread through her hair, which he casually examines like one might examine a favorite plant.]
You must be starving.
[It is unclear if he is talking about food, or something else.]
[ His fingers ruin what their scuffle in the sand hadn't, disrupting what's left of the braid that hangs low at her back. It promises what had once been intricate — familiar, a memento from Leia that she can only replicate now.
She hadn't had the heart to ever disband it. It's clear she has taken no better care of it — and herself, for that matter — than what had been strictly necessary to keep it free from dangling in her face, greasy from sweat and lack of proper hygiene, hanging in the middle of her spine. It hasn't deterred him, she notes, as she had hoped the state of her might.
It seems she was wrong. He is too desperate to find her unappealing, even wan and unwashed. Rey's dry throat works as she swallows, deliberately ignoring whatever suggestion she thinks she hears between the lines. Ignoring him, more than that, as she angles her face away to pay attention to rubbing feeling back into her arms.
She is convinced he will eventually stop once he gets no reaction. And if he will not stop ... She can take advantage of his current fixation. ]
I had all that I needed in the desert.
[ Enough to sustain herself on just enough nourishment to survive. Enough warm bodies if she needed the company, though she could never bring herself to want human contact again. Opening herself meant inevitably losing it. ]
[Not him. Not a family. No real connection — and for all Rey tries to deny that she doesn’t need those things, he knows that she lies. He knows because he lied too, until he could nor take it anymore and increased the search for her.
And certainly not enough food. He rises to his feet, intent on providing.]
I will be back.
[And after just a moment’s glance down at the discarded rope, Kylo Ren backs out of the room and locks the door behind him. His room, of course, is utterly bare bones: a bed with an imprint of the same position he has slept in every night with one crushed pillow that he seems to have been hugging. There are no photos on the wall, and only a calligraphy set poised on the table.
He returns before long with an MRE of sorts — fancier than anything Rey has likely had, and places the tray on the one table in the room. He also brings a wheeled IV, which he parks in the corner of the room.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eyes emoji times ten thousand
They were wrong, of course. Rey’s distance did not come without consequence. He was still a broad man, but where he had once been muscular, he had atrophied. Now he was simply lean, his eyes sunken and his skin pale. He suspected that, before long, the Dark would sap the last of his strength and he would be left looking just like Snoke had before he’d speared him.
Naturally, when he feels the first brush of their minds, Kylo Ren pursues Rey with a singular focus. He takes a few stormtroopers, in hopes that they will be able to do what he could not.]
I want her alive.
[He spits it feverishly at his troops (who promptly scurry off), desperately clawing on the opposite end of the bond in hopes to recouperate their shared strength before he runs out entirely.]
💦💦💦
Rey winces with it, flinches from it. The warmth it promises, pouring back into her, is worse than any ringing in her skull — a special brand of cruelty after all that she has suffered. A reminder of what might have been.
At the very least, it offers her strength to zip through the crowd until there is nowhere to go but endless dunes. It's territory she knows better, a viper in its den. That has to be as much an advantage as the burst of power that surges through her, buzzing through her nerve-endings with an acute awareness. Returned to her, as Kylo Ren has.
She had never asked for either.
Swiveling her gaze over her shoulder, she turns to reach out toward the advancing troopers that have caught her scent. The grit of her snarling teeth is concealed in the dark shadow of her cloak as her fingers curl, all three choking for breath as they struggle, fingers clawing at their armor as if it might allow them to fight for oxygen.
Finn had been among them. There could have been others like him — lost, afraid, unable to know any other life. Now, all she can see is the embodiment of a prison waiting for her, his troops come to steal the only thing she has left in her possession: herself, and the freedom she has secured. ]
no subject
He does not stop and wait for the troopers to recover. Instead, he elbows his way through the crowd until he gets to where many of the speeders are parked. The next unfortunate soul that comes to activate their’s is yanked off by the Force so that the Supreme Leader can climb aboard instead. It is then a matter of kicking it into gear and launching into the sand after her with only a broken bond to guide him.
Now that he has left his strike team behind, wrangling her will settle on his shoulders, and he has yet to discover how he might coax her without them. Their strength in the Force was strongest when they were together, but that obviously does not matter to her. To her, it is poison — and maybe in some part, she is right.
But he needs it. And he needs her. So his reckless pursuit continues.]
no subject
The fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand to attention as its droning fills her ears. The Force buzzes in tandem, an unwelcome cocktail that staggers the faltering musculature in her legs before she recovers. He's here, it seems to whisper as it stirs the air around her, rejoicing and recoiling all at once.
Rey spares him no glance, unwilling to slow herself down to gauge the closing distance between them. Even that affords him an investment she is not eager to give. Beginning to exhaust her energy reserves, she breaks into a sprint just as the speeder begins to kick up sand and eroded rock behind her, realizing — belatedly — that she is leading him straight to the shelter she has claimed for herself in the heart of the desert. A cave looming in the distance, near to Socorro's volcanic rocks and sparse oases.
It will not surprise her if he destroys that, too, just as he has devastated all that he has ever touched. ]
no subject
The vehicle snarls as it catapults off a dune, and Kylo Ren pulls on his renewed strength to jump off while it is still flying to tackle Rey into the sand before she can reach her sanctuary. There are two outcomes that he does not consider:
One, the force of his landing buries them both in the sand.
Two, Rey's superior handling of the desert allows her to overpower him and drown him there.
The third outcome, which is what he imagines will happen, is that he will need to restrain her not long after he pins her with his weight to keep her from fighting back. Regardless of the above, Rey will be treated to a hoarse and triumphant hiss.]
They told me hunting you was a waste of time.
no subject
The spitting, scorching anger in her gaze is more emotion than her deadened stare has held in weeks. He has taken so much from her; she will not allow him to have her, too. Rey's teeth gnash, spittle flying from her mouth as she leans upward to grit, ]
They were right.
[ He'll learn. Rey's head rears back — and then her skull slams forward against the protrusion of his nose in an effort to stun him off of her, colliding so forcefully that black spots appear in her vision. ]
no subject
Were they? Here you are.
[He struggles to wrestle her prone enough that she can't retaliate easily over his bulk -- or what is left of it. It gives him time to get a good look at her face, and the lines time has carved there.]
Torturing yourself.
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[ Sharp and snarling, she corrects him immediacy, unable to withstand his imitation of kindness. The pale imitation of what once was. Kylo Ren has proven he does not care for her beyond how she can best serve his ambitions, his needs. ]
How does it feel? [ The exertion of fighting against his grip, gloved fingers stabbing into her ribs as he makes an attempt to wrestle her onto her stomach, turns her rebuttal winded. Even still, Rey does not stop thrashing, bringing her knee up to block him. ] Knowing I chose to waste away over being with you?
[ The bite of that anger is frigid, cold, aiming to wound as he had wounded her. Nothing like the simmering sparks of heat she had once possessed when she had possessed fiery hope. He underestimates them both if he believes she would not choose agony, even now, to bring him the suffering he deserves.
If not for his hands on her, she would not hesitate to end them both. To reach for her lightsaber, hidden within her cloak, to drive its double blades between their chests. Instead, she settles for clawing haplessly at his cheek, blunt nails struggling to gain any purchase. ]
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It takes a long moment for his heart to harden again, his expression wrinkling in disgust.]
It does not matter, you see. [It does matter.] I do not need you to be with me for what I need.
[That, at least, is true in his mind. Whatever the Force had done to them, how it sings or how it infects them, he just needs the proximity.]
You were a fool to think you could run forever.
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In the end, nothing will bring them back. Still, Rey viciously hunts for some satisfaction that his superficial injuries and desolation cannot give her. Some feeling that is not desperate rage and endless grief. It's almost cruel that he won't gift it to her by harming her in return, but Rey refuses to be so naive as to believe he can't bring himself to strangle the air from her.
No. That isn't it. Kylo Ren doesn't know what mercy is. ]
That's right. You need me. [ Her eyes flutter closed, as if searching for peace she cannot find. Peace she has not had since the Resistance crumbled. Steadily, his blood drips down onto her, skating down her chin to pool in the dips of her clavicle. Another trail trickles onto her lower lip. Just the copper tang of it seems to breathe new essence into her. ] And I don't need you.
[ If she has not made that clear. She'll find a way to end herself before he can ever lay any claim to her. All she has now are her hands, falling from him to settle on her own windpipe. Exerting pressure, even knowing it will be futile. ]
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Rey--stop!
[And then he sees what she is doing. She will earn the pleasure of seeing panic slip across his face, even when he knows that her gesture is symbolic rather than anything that would be effective. He shifts wildly to exert pressure on her nerve instead with the intent of knocking her out before she can strangle herself.
He doesn't bother to consider that the severance of the bond might allow his power back in full. The option simply isn't on the table. If he'd been able to kill Rey, he would have done it long before now. He doesn't just need her. He wants her.
When she wakes again. She will be in his quarters on the command shuttle, and he will be finishing off the last knot that he has tied to the foot of his bed keeping her arms apart. After that display, he is not about to give her the opportunity to do it again. Binders would give her too much flexibility.
The blood has dried on his face.]
It did not have to be this way, you know. This wasn't what I wanted.
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Another bad dream in which Kylo Ren had found her once again, she tells herself, but blinking the sleep from her eyes sharpens her vision. This isn't her haven, her cave; her breathing picks up, a loud echo in the room around them, like a beast that has just noticed its leg in a trap.
The footboard rattles as she thrashes, trying to jerk away from his voice without fully comprehending what he's telling her. It jars her shoulder, popping in her socket, from the amount of wrenching she has done — but Rey continues through her muffled, strangled cry of pain. Furious tears burn at the corners of her eyes, no matter how she tries to beat them back. ]
Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?
[ Hissing like a wild thing, Rey shoots her leg outward in an attempt to kick him. Staying so near to her had been his own mistake. She'll take her blows where she can get them, even if it all feels so hollow in the aftermath. ]
I don't care what you want. You did this!
[ To himself. To her. To the Resistance. He won't even allow her the respect of letting her end it once and for all. In the end, this was the path he had chosen, doubling down when she had begged him to join her in the light. She has no pity to spare him. Whatever she had felt for Ben Solo, she has convinced herself he had killed that, too. ]
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And -- some part of him had wanted this. He wanted to see Rey's vicious streak in all of its glory, and he had gotten his wish. But some foolish part of him still believed she might come to understand, to join him by his side and unleash her hatred on the galaxy that had wronged her.]
If you really wanted to die, you would have done it long before I found you again.
[He says this from the floor, out of reach of her kicking.]
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[ He has shown her his soft underbelly in hoping that she might still be turned to his cause, still might be saved, still might be his. Rey's words aim to target it, prodding cruelly — tauntingly, almost, for how she openly scoffs at the idea. Kylo Ren had always reduced her to feeling like a lost child in need of answers; now, it seems he is clinging at something, anything, to convince himself of a better future for himself. Unable to accept the consequences. In that moment, she hates him even more for it.
She doesn't hesitate to try to drive the knife in deeper, ripping through any illusions, when she snaps, ]
I was waiting for the distance to kill us both. [ If she could not attack him directly, it would have to suffice. A decent enough strategy, effective, until he had finally found her. Above all else, he would be made to feel as empty, suffering alongside her. ] I would choose that fate a thousand times over if it meant getting away from you.
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[His hands have folded on his chest, and he opens them in a sort of hapless shrug. for her to witness from the area he has bound her to. She might be able to hear the pleased smile in his voice when he speaks again]
Because now you are here. And I'll keep you alive as long as I need. If you refuse food, I will force feed you. If you find some clever way to strangle yourself, I will bind you further. If that is the life you choose, then so be it. But you see Rey -- I've already won.
[A hollow victory, but at this rate, he will take the victories he can get. He leans upward to observe her reaction to this information, a blank stare in his eyes. He lifts a hand to stroke at her cheek.]
You're mine. Whether you like it, or not.
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As if threatening to keep her breathing is a blessing and not a curse, compassion he thinks he's providing her. A war he believes he is winning. ]
Rey is dead. You killed her when you destroyed the Resistance.
[ Whatever scraps had been left of her when the smoke had cleared, they aren't enough for her to resemble what she once was. She tries to take comfort in that knowledge, aware Kylo Ren is latching onto sentiment, wishing for the woman that had once promised him comfort, understanding, light.
The numb, assured hollowness hasn't left her voice when she continues. ]
What you have is a shell. A body. [ A consolation prize. He'll get tired of it eventually, aching for more. She only needs to wait. ] I will never belong to you as anything more than that.
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I think Rey is too stubborn to die. Or did you forget...?
[His finger curves to stroke along her cheek. Whether or not she finds comfort or joy or misery in his affection does not really matter to him. He can see the effect -- and it balms his loneliness that has suffered through so many years.]
I see it. The way you cringe away from me. What you desire, the things you miss.
[He nods, knowing the blow he dealt by annihilating the Resistance. It had not been easy for him. He still refused to even think of his mother, whether or not she had escaped the canon fire. It had been years since the smoke cleared -- it is safe to assume she is gone, and he no longer has to dedicate thought to any of it.]
And I can do a lot of things with a body. Let alone your body, so connected that we are.
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She won't award him the pleasure of looking away, of witnessing her struggle. Already he is basking too heavily in her belligerence without adding more thrashing to the list. ]
I don't miss them. Not from you.
[ Not anymore, Rey thinks to herself, even in her wretched loneliness. He isn't Ben Solo, the man she might have imagined if he had not gone astray. Kylo Ren had slaughtered him, too, that day. Neither is he Finn, soft and gentle — or Leia, nurturing and kind. His touch means nothing to her when it is pure possession rather than compassion, rather than love. Images of each flash through her mind, more painful for knowing they're gone.
Bile rises in her throat, bound to choke her for the threat she inherently detects in his promise. He won't be happy until he's taken everything that is still hers, spared from him on Crait. Made every part of her his, believing it will bring her back to him. ]
You don't know what you're talking about.
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[Not entirely -- she believes that she does not miss Kylo Ren. She misses Ben Solo, who is dead. But she is not studious enough to separate their faces, their bodies. Only their mannerisms. And that won't be enough, once she has been tied to his bed for long enough.]
I know enough.
[She has succeeded in shutting down his concern for how she might perceive him -- if she wants the monster, then that's what she'll get. It is easier to lean into, without the hope there to guide him elsewhere.]
I know that you blame me for all of them. That's alright. Everyone always gives up eventually. I can bear this too.
[His thumb traces up along her lip, admiring the feel of them with bare fingers, mindful of the joint should she decide to try and bite down. She is not quite skin and bones yet, but he can spot the signs of malnutrition. Whether or not she eats, she will need an IV of fluids and nourishment. It would be the quickest way to get her healthy again.]
Fight, if you need. But what's done is done, and the galaxy needs us now.
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[ Each syllable brushes what's left of the softness of her mouth — cracked and dry, eroded from the desert's unforgiving climate — against the pad of his thumb, but Rey refuses to recoil. Knowing he must desire it, searching for the parts of her he has missed, is reason enough to deny it to him.
It goes against the very fiber of what she is to offer numb indifference, but it feels like a revelation. A new way of approaching him, now that she believes she is aware of his attempts to draw her spirit out, make her remember herself. Hoping she will fight in order to feel he has earned her surrender if it were to come. ]
You won't get anything from me.
[ And that makes all the difference. He can take it, but she will never give it willingly. Kylo Ren is a fool to believe that will ever be enough to slake his hunger, that she will come to him if he is patient enough (as if he has ever possessed patience, Rey thinks to herself). Rey's eyes finally leave his, glazing over as she directs them somewhere above his head. ]
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Well, if you won't fight...
[He reaches to untie one of her hands in a deliberately slow manner -- he has no doubt that she can outlast him in a game of patience, but she has done him the favor of nearly dislocating her shoulder prior to this moment. If she does, in fact, try to fight him...it should not be difficult to restrain her again. He'd just walk out with more bruises than he first anticipated.
And right now, that doesn't sound so bad. He was never one to shy away from physical pain -- quite the opposite, actually.]
I suppose we don't need these after all.
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He's a fool. She would be a greater fool to act on impulse and reach for the lightsaber still buried within her cloak. If nothing else, he has done her the favor of wanting her to be awake before he tried to touch her. Waiting for an opportune moment is wiser.
Rey says nothing, though a flash of pain does spike between them as the weight of her arm drops — heavy from being in one position, sore from all of her thrashing. It jostles her shoulder again, an agonizing burst of pain, but she gives no voice to it beyond a grunt — even as fresh tears threaten to spring to her eyes, turning them glossy.
They never fall. Tears had never gotten her anywhere, after all. Instead, she focuses on drawing her arm back to her, watching him all the while to ensure it isn't a greater trick than it already is for his attempts to provoke her into action, observing him like an animal distrusting the hunter that had locked it in a cage and now thinks to free it. ]
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And he is leaning over her to continue this observation, a shadow covering a good portion of her body as he digs for the familiar signs of Rey -- the fight, the belligerence, the survival instinct. He craves it, practically vibrates with the need to feel it in the bond again. So engrossed in it, he seems to have nearly forgotten his cause for recapturing her in the first place.
His focus is singular, enough that his commlink can be seen flashing on the banister away from them as he ignores yet another summons.
She hasn't struck him yet beyond that first kick. Hell, she hasn't even tried to struggle -- so he gets bolder. The hand that had been playing with her lower lip drags back to thread through her hair, which he casually examines like one might examine a favorite plant.]
You must be starving.
[It is unclear if he is talking about food, or something else.]
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She hadn't had the heart to ever disband it. It's clear she has taken no better care of it — and herself, for that matter — than what had been strictly necessary to keep it free from dangling in her face, greasy from sweat and lack of proper hygiene, hanging in the middle of her spine. It hasn't deterred him, she notes, as she had hoped the state of her might.
It seems she was wrong. He is too desperate to find her unappealing, even wan and unwashed. Rey's dry throat works as she swallows, deliberately ignoring whatever suggestion she thinks she hears between the lines. Ignoring him, more than that, as she angles her face away to pay attention to rubbing feeling back into her arms.
She is convinced he will eventually stop once he gets no reaction. And if he will not stop ... She can take advantage of his current fixation. ]
I had all that I needed in the desert.
[ Enough to sustain herself on just enough nourishment to survive. Enough warm bodies if she needed the company, though she could never bring herself to want human contact again. Opening herself meant inevitably losing it. ]
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[Not him. Not a family. No real connection — and for all Rey tries to deny that she doesn’t need those things, he knows that she lies. He knows because he lied too, until he could nor take it anymore and increased the search for her.
And certainly not enough food. He rises to his feet, intent on providing.]
I will be back.
[And after just a moment’s glance down at the discarded rope, Kylo Ren backs out of the room and locks the door behind him. His room, of course, is utterly bare bones: a bed with an imprint of the same position he has slept in every night with one crushed pillow that he seems to have been hugging. There are no photos on the wall, and only a calligraphy set poised on the table.
He returns before long with an MRE of sorts — fancier than anything Rey has likely had, and places the tray on the one table in the room. He also brings a wheeled IV, which he parks in the corner of the room.]
Eat.
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this sentence is your last stop before non-conlandia
choo choo or should i say yeethaw
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