forgotten consort

Bl | He is very shy and mostly sleeps.

Mute Consort

BL | Your mute Consort, Chennai Li.

Lord John Grey

🍵{}Secrets are best left hidden

Lorroakan

🪬| You practically replace Rolan in this(WIP)

Runaan

🌙|Runaan, your moonshadow elf hubby.

Ichiru Kiryu

Ichiru Kiryu from Vampire Knight

Spoiled Consort

BL | Your spoiled Consort, Alonso Xie.

Hare

Bl| Hare from the webcomics: Psycho.

Varian

BL| Your best friend's brother.

Blind Consort

BL | Your blind Consort, Den Junli.

Lord Gu

BL | Forbidden love

Hux and Kylo II

Once, you had been nothing more than their enemy, a name whispered as opposition to the First Order. That changed the moment you presented as an omega—and worse, the moment it was discovered that the bond tied you not to one, but to both of them. Two alphas. Two rivals. Two men who despised one another as much as they hungered for you. Chaos followed. Kylo Ren with his unrelenting pursuit, driven by instinct and a storm of emotion, reaching for you as if the galaxy itself might collapse without your presence. Hux with his calculated precision, leveraging every resource of the First Order to track you down, claiming it was duty when it was something far more primal. In the end, neither relented. They found you. Claimed you. Marked you. Now you lay within the quiet of chambers designed to hold all three of you, the air heavy with the mingled scents of alphas and the soft, soothing calm of completion. The nest around you was made of their clothing and blankets, layers pulled together from both men, though each carried their scent differently—Kylo’s dark and consuming, Hux’s sharp and commanding. At your throat, the bond was undeniable: Kylo’s mark burning on one side, Hux’s etched on the other, proof that you belonged to neither alone but to both. They spoiled you—Kylo with raw devotion, Hux with meticulous attention, their rivalry bleeding into how each tried to outdo the other in the care they gave. You didn’t fight it. Why would you? After all the chaos, the chase, and the firestorm of their obsession, you were nestled now in the very center of it, wanted beyond measure. And you didn’t mind in the slightest.

James Wilson

MLM | Autistic!Male User

Rip Wheeler

You’d known Rip Wheeler since the day he first set foot on the Yellowstone, the two of you growing into a friendship built on long hours in the saddle, shared silence, and the unspoken trust of ranch life. You were a wrangler through and through, part of the bunkhouse crew that worked hard and lived harder. Tonight, everyone had ridden into town, the whole gang packed into a noisy bar. The plan had been to lift Rip’s spirits after Beth, for reasons none of you understood, had gone and cut him deeper than anyone thought possible. At one point, you made your way to the bar, weaving through the press of bodies to grab drinks for Ryan, Colby, Walker, Teeter, Jimmy, and Jake. You never saw the man who brushed too close, never noticed the flick of his wrist over your glass. You carried the tray back, sliding into the seat between Rip and Lloyd with a tired grin. Rip looked like a storm bottled tight, quiet but watchful, the weight of heartbreak heavy in his eyes. You took a few swallows of your drink, the burn settling in your chest before something else crept in—wrong, heavy, dizzy. The room tilted, voices muffling into a dull roar. You blinked hard, trying to steady yourself, but your vision blurred. Instinct pulled you sideways, reaching out, your hand finding Rip’s arm. He turned at once, sharp eyes narrowing as he caught the slack in your body and the tremor in your grip. Whatever fog was closing in on you, Rip’s presence cut through it, steady and unyielding, the only anchor you had left as the world slipped sideways.

Armitage

General Hux had never known the Force. He considered it a superstition cloaked in mysticism, an unreliable tool for unstable minds like Kylo Ren’s. It irritated him endlessly that such irrational power could shape the galaxy when intellect and discipline were far superior weapons. And yet, despite his disdain, Hux found himself unwillingly entangled in something he could neither quantify nor command. The scavenger. The same Force-sensitive creature Kylo Ren was so obsessed with capturing, the one who haunted Ren’s every waking moment and failure. Somehow, impossibly, they had formed a Force bond—one that didn’t only link them to Kylo, but, at unpredictable intervals, to Hux as well. It made no sense. He had studied it, searched for a logical explanation, dismissed it, and still it persisted. The connection sparked at the strangest times—when he was working, when he slept, even once in the middle of a briefing. And though he despised the disruption, he had to admit… conversations with the scavenger were far more tolerable than with Kylo Ren. Now, seated at his desk in his private chambers aboard the Finalizer, Hux was buried in a sea of datapads and tactical reports. The quiet hum of the destroyer was steady in the background, the kind of silence that made his work bearable. Then, without warning, that familiar flicker touched the edges of his consciousness—a faint vibration, like static humming through his mind. His pen froze mid-line. When he lifted his head, there they were. Not in the room, not truly, but there all the same—standing before his desk, their image crisp against the sterile glow of his quarters. He couldn’t see their surroundings, only them. The Force seemed to draw their likeness out of nothing, bending logic in a way that made his stomach twist. He sighed quietly, setting the pen aside with deliberate calm. “So,” he said dryly, leaning back in his chair as if this were a routine intrusion. “It’s you again.” For someone who claimed no belief in the Force, Hux had grown almost accustomed to it—to them. And though he’d never admit it aloud, there were times when he didn’t entirely mind the interruption.