Lost Son

Independent rp blog for Kylo Ren. WILL contain spoilers. Remake of tenebrcuslight.

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hey folks!

sorry i havent been here. schools started back up and im trying to get back into the swing of things. if im not here, you can def most find me on my mai blog over at otempcraomcres

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pistcs:

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Hux takes him into his mouth, and Kylo’s heart stops for a second.

His eyes squeeze shut, a slight whine escaping his lips as his head falls back against the pillow. It’s been..quite some time since he’s had any sexual encounter, and gods above, he almost forgot what it was like. He lets out a moan, soft and barely there, but by god, is it there! It feels, it feels--like too much and not enough all at once. How did he ever try to deny himself this? This want? This desire? He’s glad he didn’t make Hux leave, glad he made him stay. How else would he ever have had this?

Kylo takes a deep breath, sits up slightly so he can get a better look at Hux between his legs. Oh...it is a beautiful sight indeed. He grins, holds tighter onto his hair. “Oh..that’s..k..keep going,” he breathes, hips rocking up slightly, and he moans again, slightly louder this time, free hand curling into the sheets of the bed. Yes--this was what he wanted, and if he pushes Hux’s head down a bit more, can he be blamed? “F-fuck-”

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pistcs:

A soft growl leaves the General’s lips as nails rake up his back, he pushes towards the feeling, heat surging from each place skin breaks and he’s sure it does. Sure that’s the point, that Kylo has every intention of never letting Hux forget this, of ensuring that the marks would be visible in the mirror for days. Possessive he thinks, is how he feels now, towards the young Knight, teeth make marks and he wants Kylo to remember just as well, wants him to feel this, to feel him for days after, wants to make sure Ren knew exactly who was  really in charge between them. 

His hand is dragged forwards, and something akin to desire flares in blue  eyes, they lock with darker, wilder hues and he smiles. Hux presses downwards, fingers pushing over fabric still, not yet giving the younger what he desires. “I plan to.” He replies, mouth against the shell of the other man’s ear, teeth grip and pull at the pale lobe, pulling downwards before lips drag down the curve of Ren’s throat, to a broad chest, Ren was broader than he was, built like a fighter, while Hux was lithe and long-limbed, built like a dancer. He thinks he envies the way Kylo looks to a degree, craves that raw strength, knows very well if Ren wanted he’d have the upperhand here. 

But Hux will take it while he’s able. 

The kisses continue downwards, towards the place his hand was guided, his  hand now moves back to Kylo’s hip, gripping hard a moment before he’s undoing the clasp of his pants like the other man intended. Eyes peer upwards, watching for the younger man’s expression, to see if anything changed, if the want disappeared even a fraction. 

Oh, Kylo is sure to remember this, and maybe he’ll hope for more in the days after. He hopes it isn’t a one time thing, that they’ll keep coming back to each other, like the collision of galaxies: slow and a long time coming, but wild and blinding once it happens. 

Still, something like nervousness appears in Kylo’s eyes for a fraction of a second, worry growing in the back of his head as fingers undo the clasp of his pants. What if he thinks of you as less of a man? that voice whispers. What if he laughs--rejects you--leaves you here? What then? What then? What then? 

Kylo swallows. No. He wants this. What’s between his legs shouldn’t--doesn’t--matter. Still, if his heart pounds a little harder, he can’t really help it. Besides, he’s sure Hux knows, so he breathes, pushes fingers through red locks, gives a reassuring smile as his legs spread to accommodate the other. It’ll be fine, he tells himself. He has to get over his own fear, get out of his head. Maybe he’ll never stop being self-conscious, but at least this will help. Of course it will help. “Go on, then,” he quips, giving a light tug on Hux’s hair. 

It’s fine. It’s fine.

“Have me,” he murmurs. “I’m yours.”

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shakespeare aesthetics

Macbeth:

the howl of wolves.   moonless nights.   dirt under fingernails.   stained silk.   chattering teeth. voices hoarse and cracked.   rotting fruit. echoing drums.   dry heaving.  hanging cobwebs.   stifling humidity.  bloodshot eyes.   the roughness of rusted steel.   wild rosebushes. muscle cramps.   the sound of splintering wood.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream:

crackling fires.   ivy crawling on stone. the faint music of running water.   petrichor.  dirty, bare feet.   tattered clothing.  thistledown.   wilted wildflower crowns.   late evening birdsong.   curling leaves. a symphony of croaking frogs.  drifting feathers. the eerie sound of windchimes at night.   humming bees. beds of clover.

Romeo and Juliet:

warm golden lamplight. worn shoes. crumbling brick walls.   whispered poetry.  embroidered satin.   cool, hazy mornings.   tousled hair.   rosewater.   flushed cheeks.  distant orchestras.   unfinished marble statues.   cobblestone streets.   loose threads.   ink smudged on parchment.   tapping fingers.   dust illuminated by sunlight.   poison vials.

Hamlet:

shattered glass. a cluster of fraying ribbons.   unanswered knocks on doors. lingering dampness.   white noise.   inexplicable drafts. migraines.   bleeding ears.   the taste of metal.   reflected mirrors.   dry, cracked lips.   the sound of tearing paper.   fogged windows. memories of dreams. tarnished silver. protruding veins.

tagged by :  @naberrian tagging : @pistcs, @ofstarkilling, @hopeandresist, @landspeeding, @pilotscvm, and!! whoever else wants to!! just say i tagged u c:

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pistcs:

He can feel his shirt being pushed  away, manneuvers himself to make it easier, and it’s as if Kylo is clawing at him desperately to get him closer, to get more from him. He wants to reel back, to not give so much, to make the other man want and beg for him.  The idea sends molten fire down his spine. But the thought is lost as bites are made against his chest and shoulders, blue eyes close and he lets himself enjoy something he hasn’t in what feels like a decade. Maybe it was. 

Armitage lets out a small grunt when Ren bites particularly hard, knowing he’s only adding to the plethra of bruises littering pale skin, mostly from the man that now handled him like this. His own hand rakes upwards, appreciative over tense muscle, —-lord he was beautiful, beautiful and chaotic and dangerous and Hux loved it. Loved the idea of containing a fire like this, vivid carnage has come so beautifully from these hands that grip him now feverishly with need. 

Then it all comes reeling back, the want toned down to a gentle blaze as Ren gasps against him. But that frantic need isn’t lost to Armitage no, there’s a kiss to his shoulder and he ducks his head, returning something similar, sucking and biting bruises into a long neck, and he’d never noticed how the moles litter Ren’s skin like constellations but he thinks they’re just as beautiful as the rest of him. He plans to leave his mark on this man, on his beautiful olive skin, let the world know that he brought Kylo Ren, the Supreme  Leader’s apprentice down like this, let them know that he had this power–this control. 

Desire flares in the pit of Kylo’s gut as his neck is bitten, a shaky break taken in. Something like a moan escapes Kylo’s lips, but it’s quiet and muffled in Hux’s shoulder. He wants, he wants, he wants like he’s never wanted before. His head is reeling, entire body flushed a light shade of pink. Part of him never thought he’d be doing this with Hux, of all people, but another part of him isn’t surprised at all. How long has the tension between them been building? He’s more surprised that it didn’t snap sooner. It’s like a rubber band, breaking and recoiling and falling flat.

He swallows, drags nails down Hux’s back and breathes. Kylo wants to admire the man above him, the raw beauty and power that he emanates, but right now there is only a need to have him. Admiration can come later, but he can’t help the way that his gaze softens as he looks upon Hux, as a hand comes up to cup his face and rub along his cheekbone, oddly soft and gentle for someone as wicked and wild as Kylo Ren. 

Still, the hand is gone as quickly as it had come, and now it grabs one of Hux’s hands, guides to waist of his pants, and Kylo grins wryly, leaning up to bite his bottom lip. “I’ll let you do the honors~” he teases, laughing to himself. “And you can do as you please.”

[proditoriarchive]

Poetry Meme: Richard Siken

Poetry Meme. Send a number 1- 28 for a starter or drabble featuring our two characters based on one of Richard Siken's lines.

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willofwords:

This is everything and all at once. The desperation in Kylo’s movements, the way his great coat is shoved down his shoulders, something he should be stopping but doesn’t. The way it feels as if Ren is clawing at his clothing to get to him, eager and desperate and wanting and —-it feels so good, so right. His hand is in those wild dark strands, soft and downy feeling just like he  thought they would be, and his other is on a slim hip, gripping harshly, unrelenting and forceful. 

He almost growls when the other parts from him, almost screams, because how dare he. The kiss to his throat has him swallowing because it burns, burns like the force had and god he wanted Kylo not to notice the make up that covered purple and blue bruises. What would he think of it? Pity, remorse, sorry? 

He moves with the other man, hand travelling to the front of that bare chest before he’s pushing him down into the bed, a forceful movement, and Hux is connecting their lips again, positioning himself over the younger man, protocol be damned. 

Kylo sucks in a breath when he’s shoved down into the bed, eyes wide for a second before he grins and kisses back. It’s messy, it’s dangerous, all teeth and tongue like starving animals. Maybe that’s what Kylo is, though. Maybe that’s all he’ll ever be: a wild animal trapped in a cage, even if he made the cage for himself.

Still, this isn’t the time to be dreading your own life.

He pulls Hux closer--impossibly closer, as if their bodies could melt into one. Kylo feels the desperation, both from himself and Hux, and it feels like they both might explode from it. For someone like Kylo, even the smallest touch sends him reeling, so this, this--he almost forgets to breathe, even as he undoes Hux’s shirt and pushes it off, even as he kisses his chest and bites and leaves marks to stay hidden, he almost forgets to breathe.

He has to stop for a second. Breathe. He rests his head on Hux’s shoulder, laughs to himself. “You’ll forgive me. I just--need to gather myself,” Kylo murmurs, and it almost sounds pathetic, sounds vulnerable. A kiss to the shoulder, the collarbone. Breathe. “I was just never expecting this..”

( @pistcs​ )

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emerges from richard iii hell

anYWAYS

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merp

sorry ive been quiet. ive been watchin the white queen and crying over richard iii bc id die for him??

ill be around soon kdsjfg

[wolfkept-deactivated20180727]

pinkmistletoe:

pinkmistletoe:

being touchstarved makes u absolutely buckwild when someone does smth simple like .share a chair with u

like having someone touch your hand with the tips of their fingers shouldn’t feel like So Much it shouldn’t feel like your whole body is going into anaphylactic shock but here we are. here we are.

[driverdaily]

The Last Jedi | Kylo Ren | Posters

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willofwords:

He’s watching Kylo, always watching, blue eyes fixated on him, on his face, on his body language, on everything. Trying desperately to read what was to come, Kylo was rash, he was sudden and explosive and oh so beautifully unpredictable. Hux loved it, loved the mystery loved that he never could figure out what was to happen. There was no pattern, ever just bouts of unpredictable destruction and he can tell now, can tell that unpredictability is focused on him, that rash emotional man is concentrating on him and Hux can feel the pounding of war drums in his ears. Attempts to arrange his thoughts like soldiers in his mind, but there’s mutiny on deck, and he can’t keep a single man in line.

There’s a hand on his face and Hux thinks he’s going to actually run now, his entire body tense as a string on the brink of snapping. He watches as Kylo’s eyes stay trained on his features, watches slowly, painfully, agonizingly as he gets closer and closer and then—-then they’re kissing and it is as if every ounce of tension breaks all at once. His own hand flies upwards, gripping crazed raven-colored strands, pulls him closer as their lips press and Hux thinks this is everything that he’d been missing in the way he’d been feeling. 

What was he feeling? He s till didn’t know, but it was need, for this for precisely this. For Ren, against him, under his control, for their lips to fight and push and Armitage can feel the way he’s suffocating not from the force but from full lips that have never been more alluring. He kisses him harshly, the built up tension, frustration, want, desire, everything spilling where composure no longer keeps emotion at bay. Let go he’d said. Well. He supposes he’s succeeded. 

Kylo isn’t sure what he had been expecting: to be shoved off, to be yelled at, to be rejected as harshly as anything. It wasn’t this, though. He wasn’t expecting Hux to pull him closer, to grab his hair and kiss him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Kylo is in shock for a moment, but once he comes to his senses, he’s pushing off that damned coat of Hux’s, trying to get at him as best he can. Fingers clutch the back of his shirt, and Kylo hasn’t felt this alive in years.

After a moment, he pulls away, if only to breathe, and he’s grinning, chest heaving as he scoots back onto the bed, dragging Hux with him. “Well, General..” he murmurs, fingers pushing through those red locks and grabbing on. His other hand pushes underneath the bottom of his shirt, insistent and yearning. Maybe it’s just because he’s starved for any kind of attention, for any kind of touch, but he wants it--wants this more than he’s wanted anything in a while.

Just how broken are you?

“We can continue, if you wish.” A kiss to his neck, his jaw, and Kylo breathes. “But only if you wish it.”

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✮

Send a star for affection || Accepting

5. gentle kiss

It’s a relatively quiet morning, a hush over the ship as everyone relishes in their final victory. Kylo is barely awake, buried underneath the blankets, and he feels Hux stir beside him. Of course, he can’t have that just yet, so he shifts, an arm sliding around the smaller man’s middle, a mischievous grin on his face as he pulls him closer.

“Good morning, Grand Marshal~” Kylo practically purrs it out, fingers gently pushing through red locks as he leans in to press a soft kiss to his lips, hardly there, just enough to satisfy him for now because he knows how Hux is--he won’t stand to be kept here much longer. “Mm, that’s all I wanted. Feel free to get up now.” Kylo snickers, letting go of the other, but he makes no move to get up himself, wrapped up in the warmth of the blankets.

[galleryofmemesnplots]

Send a ✮ & I’ll generate a number ( platonic edition )

or send a number for a hug/kiss 

cheek kiss

shy kiss

first kiss

forehead kiss

gentle kiss

scar kiss

hand kiss

friendly kiss

chaste kiss

spin the bottle kiss

an eskimo kiss

butterfly kisses ( eyelash kiss )

a kiss pressed to each fingertip

a kiss on the hairline

a kiss to the temples

a kiss to the corner of the mouth

a kiss to bruised skin

a kiss on the knuckles

Nose Kiss

Gentle Peck

Eyelid Kiss

Bear Hug

Sleepy hug

Cuddle hug

Unreciprocated hug

“Far too long since we’ve seen each other” hug

From behind hug

“Something scared me” hug

The Lift hug

One armed hug

Friendly hug

The emotional hug

Failed hug

Run and Jump hug

Side hug

Comforting hug

Family hug

Hug around waist

Clinging hug

‘’Don’t let go’’ hug

‘’I thought I’d never see you again” hug

Warm hug

Awkward hug

Cold hug

[rpmemedump]

The Force Awakens Starter sentences

“Do I talk first or you talk first? I talk first?”

“We’re home.”

“I’m no one.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“That’s one hell of a pilot!”

“Are you up for this?”

“Hell no.”

“Stop taking my hand!”

“I don’t know your name.” 

“Nothing will stand in our way.”

“There has been an awakening.” 

“Where do you come from?“ 

“Oh, you’re cold?!”

“Are we really doing this?!”

“We’ve got company.”

“Keep it. It suits you.”

“I think I can handle myself.” 

“I know all about waiting.” 

“The belonging you seek is not behind you … it is ahead.”

“Actually, he’s not for sale.”

“Classified, really?”

“Come home.”

We’ll figure it out. We’ll use The Force!”

“It’s true. All of it.”

“You still drive me crazy.” 

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“You need a pilot.”

“I need a pilot.”

“Alright, let’s light it up!” 

“May the Force be with you.” 

“Obviously.”