⁽ 𝖎 ⁾ EAT THE 𝓒𝙊𝙎𝙈𝙊𝙎

𝙄 𝘿𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙈 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙎𝘼𝘾𝙍𝙀𝙎. 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘢 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘴.

[cruoren]

❛ ━━━ 𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗗𝗢 𝗪𝗘 𝗛𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗢 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗩𝗜𝗖𝗜𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦, 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘴. Private reinterpretation of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren as originally introduced in the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, ft. him as the overarching antagonist of the sequels. Built on the basis of the scrapped Duel of the Fates script, the New Republic-era novels, and the comics, with inspiration drawn from Lovecraftian literature. Dark content lies ahead, exercise caution.

〈 ✦ 〉 carrd. visualizer. portrait. study. promo. prompts.

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𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗬𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗬 𝗢𝗙 𝗟𝗘𝗚𝗔𝗖𝗬, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗗𝗬𝗡𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗬, 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞. A textual exploration of the conquest of power and the descent into madness. The anatomy of theocracy and drafting mythology. Fallen idols and becoming the god of oneself. The debate between determinism and free will, hunger as an allegory for power, and the catharsis of tragedies. ━━━ ❜

[sacreddear]

twin peaks, log lady intros | tv quote starters feel free to change pronouns as preferred. 

is it funny to you? it is not to me.

some ideas arrive in the form of a dream.

we are ignorant of many things.

what is this thing called a tear?

there are even tiny ducts, tear ducts, to produce these tears should the sadness occur.

one day the sadness will end.

look in the mirror, what do you see?

is it a dream or a nightmare?

i can smell the fire.

i tell what i can to form a perfect answer, but that answer cannot come before all are ready to hear.

eyes are the soul. so we look closely at the eyes to see the nature of the soul.

a drunken man walks in a way that is quite impossible for a sober man to imitate, and vice versa.

an evil man has a way, no matter how clever, to the trained eye his way will show itself.

am i being too secretive?

one can never answer questions at the wrong moment.

can you see through a wall? can you see through human skin?

have you ever seen something startling that others cannot see?

i am filled with questions.

in a dream, are all the characters really you - different aspects of you?

do answers come in dreams?

i grew up in the woods. i understand many things because of the woods.

there is as much space outside the human proportionately, as inside.

where does creamed corn figure into the workings of the universe?

sometimes when we are ill, we are not on our best behavior.

sometimes nature plays tricks on us and we imagine we something other than what we truly are.

the answer is within the question.

food is interesting.

it was almost fun not knowing.

at least we know what we sought in the beginning.

this was not a forest fire. it was a fire in the woods.

are blood and love related?

whoever invented the pie?

sometimes i get angry and do things i’m not proud of.

our world is a magical smoke screen.

i don’t mind telling you some things. many things i mustn’t say.

[cruoren]

tfw you get dragged away from your Dark Side excursion in unknown space 😮‍💨

[payne2481-deactivated20260202]

The “excuse me what did you say? I can’t hear you I have an ear disease called i don’t fucking care” mood.

[fcalty]

the role of admiral is something mitaka has trained for his whole life. commanding a fleet was a learning curve he overcame of by virtue of knowledge of those before him. but no matter how high he climbed, the anxiety he felt around the imposing supreme leader never seemed to decrease. ❝ two ships are stationed over chandrila and one over brentaal and one above coruscant. the rest have dispersed but will swiftly return on command. ❞ mitaka tries to keep his nerves at bay when delivering the briefing. ❝ the chancellor thinks it would be favourable to occupy ganthel. should i take the initiative? ❞

✱ starter call - @cruoren

[cruoren]

The dark disavows all notions of civilisation, and all that is left for structure is the pandemonium of the Universe. The fiction of laws and the affairs of Coruscant interest him little and less by every dark hour, but indulge them he must while stationed planetside. The voice of the admiral grates his patience, as it usually does, but Ren suppresses the instinct. He turns his attention instead to the holographic map, awash in blue light, hovering above the conference table. His gaze lingers on the planet suspended above the table. He supposes Hux has a point in advocating annexation. Ganthel controls a segment of the Perlemian, and the Kelerium trade alone secures its value. ❛ Avoid stretching the central fleet thin. The Core need not be reminded of our hand more than necessary. ❜

❛ Surely Ganthel remembers what imperial order once looked like. Occupy the docks, the shipyards, the customs relays━seize the arteries first. The planet will bend faster if the government is left intact, albeit under our terms. ❜ He waves a gloved hand, ❛ Of course, you may advise the Chancellor to review potential candidates at his leisure. ❜

[cruoren]

no thoughts, only supreme leader kylo in his military uniform and / or full-body armour

[cruoren]

housekeeping.

[cruoren]

if you can't handle kylo at his psychosis, you don't deserve him at his dissociation

[cruoren]

more plots / threads of our muses being stranded on a planet, or in any case having to work together due to external circumstances of any variety. thanks ✨️

[cruoren]

｡𖦹°‧ ━━━ beneath the eyes of an archaic sculpture of a sith, there is respite to be found from the endless chatter of the curators. it would last but precious minutes, as there was a stern program set for the day's activities. as part of the effort toward cultural and educational restoration, the galactic museum on coruscant had been refurbished, and the grand re-opening had drawn crowds of reporters, galvanized by the announcement that a small party, including the chancellor would be in attendance for a private tour — accompanied by the supreme leader.

the cavernous sith hall had been deconstructed at the height of jedi standing. it had been richly funded during the days of the high republic, as far as he recalled, but it was seen in poor taste to showcase sith history with the jedi on the frontlines of the republic. under the imperial banner, jedi relics had been banned for much the same ideological ideal. a thing that can be controlled cannot also be powerful.

idly, ren had noted the specifics of the statue as belonging to darth gravid, under whose mad reign much of the ancient lore had been lost. the forgotten knowledge was palpable amid his own studies. hux had scoffed, unimpressed, as he often professed to be when it came to matters of the force. the force is not a field pragmatic enough for the logical mind of an engineer ━━ ren might attach more merit to that assessment, had he not felt the snaking of intrigue amid armitage's mind when he deemed to caress the periphery of the man's projected thought, which grew dark, and his dreams, which grew darker.

❝ the sith believed power came from worship, as did the jedi, the nightsisters, every other force faction across the galaxy. it only made them weak. power built on belief is fragile, because belief is fallible. it can be toppled as easily as a statue. ❞ with a shift of his hand, the statue shivers in its vitrine and begins to fall. the hall is too sanitised for his taste, ordained by new standards. as any imperial policy, it is to be a curated visual. belief is a myth, and a myth is a story, and a story can be reshaped. before it shatters against the floor of its box, he restores it back in place.

❝ I know you think the dark side is some trick i indulge on a whim, and it has no place in your administration, ❞ aside from when it is weaponised to serve hux's propagandised myth. effectiveness notwithstanding, ren mislikes tangling his own mastery of the dark with any political ideation. the senators misunderstand, of course. some willfully, to excuse their trembling avoidance of him; others out of pure, pitiable ignorance. it makes no difference ━━ the dark is the only power that matters. that is not how hux must see it, but it delights ren to see him confront the shadow caressing the vestige of his being, the secret escarp of his heart where ren's darkness nestles. ❝ but it is more than that. i should hope you do not still see me as some zealot, chancellor. ❞

where his dark figure looms, it is eclipse. enveloping the chancellor like a coffin, he lingers behind him in his black day-coat, gloved hand lying to rest over his back in a gesture mimicking courtesy. ❝ i don't purport any tenet. the dark is just an instinct, like an appetite. you have felt it as i have, no? ❞ with jaw near the slope of a pale neck, concealed by the high collar of ornate attire, he diverts hux's attention back to the statue with a wave of his hand, and then @acharnemcnt murmurs in a velvet rebuke ━━ 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙁𝙀𝙇𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙒𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝘼 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙋𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙄𝙉 𝙈𝙔 𝘽𝙊𝘿𝙔.

❝ you allow me in, time and time. ❞ it is half an accusation, and half an appraisal. the shadow of him falls over the chancellor like a shroud. the spectral haze of blue-gray beguiles him closer, that restless melancholy of pale dawn. he likes it when it is tinged black with the ash of his own. to share in the dark is as though his ribs were split open, exposing the thrum of himself. it is understanding made flesh, and to speak of it is to touch a raw nerve. this game they play has teeth, and they sink in the softest places. ❝ even if you refuse to name it, or acknowledge it, it has found its way inside you. ❞ his voice lulls, ❝ i must say, darkness becomes you. ❞ alas, the inane voices of the entourage come upon them from the atrium. they test ren's patience, and it a testament to his good will that he has not yet caused a scandal, yet he steps back in feigned propriety. their company awaits, and so he offers an arm to his husband as they depart for the remainder of the tour.

[cruoren]

thinking specifically about modern verse kylo

[cruoren]

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊: A MUSE PLAYLIST STUDY! list 5 6 songs that you associate with your muse!  ( bonus:  include lyrics if you'd like! )

TELL ME LIES ━━━ shadows of deranger / never bound to return / when unleaving in danger / when i've lost my willing to learn. ( by and one )

IT TORE YOUR HEART OUT ━━━ such a pure devotion to your skin / who'll absolve you from your sin / you flee communion paranoid / now your cup is the void. ( by dirt poor robins )

ANIMAL IMPULSES ━━━ shine razor eyes in delight / shine razor eyes before you die / shine razor eyes in this light / there's a cold breeze blowing over my soul / I'm tired of this human duet / no civilizing hides / our animal impulses. ( by IAMX )

DRAGULA ━━━ dead, I am the sky / watching angels cry / while they slowly turn / conquering the worm / dig through the ditches and burn through the witches / I slam in the back of my dragula. ( by rob zombie )

BLOOD MOON ━━━ lost in darkness / exiled in the desert / staring through black eyes / fleeing damnation (...) feeding the bloodline / the blood moon burns you black. ( by christian death )

ANCIENT DREAMS IN A MODERN LAND ━━━ ancient dreams in a modern land / I'm trying to get back as fast I can / back to a time before I had form / back to a time before I was born (...) I live in the space between the stars and the sky. ( by marina )

tagged by: the lovely @fcalty tagging: @asteritm / @empreys / @operattic / @ofvxder / @benikoes / @frostborns / @highfaeried / i'm not sure who has or hasn't done this yet, but everyone should ✨

[operatticarch]

endless edits of misha skywalker featuring @cruoren

serving as your foe on his behalf is the last thing that I wanted

[cruoren]

not Certified Kylo-Attire ( <- not pitch black and blood-stained ) but He..........

[cruoren]

my favourite thing kylo does is when he twirls his lightsaber around casually while yapping mid-duel.

[cruoren]

“ thank you, ”     ren murmured,    and truly the darkness above was mimicked by the darkness in his voice. 

[cruoren]

it’s not a lightsaber that she has clutched tightly in both hands, but a pair of blades that glint silver in the light. one she has buried in the shoulder of the arm holding the humming ( painfully, the force screams from it like a wounded thing, it breaks her heart ) red lightsaber, the other she has pressed against the column of his throat. consequences be damned, she wants his heart ripped from his chest.

but it’s not something she can do. not yet.

‘ call me old fashioned, but sometimes i prefer metal over a lightsaber. do you know why? ’ the knife in his shoulder twists with a jerk just enough to emphasize her point. she’s close enough to kiss, she’s close enough to kill, she’s close enough to see the vein she’s pressing her knife into ( which she’s doing with no small amount of enjoyment, mind you. ) ‘ i don’t want to just hurt you. ’ her eyes are brown, with flickers of the cosmos swirling within — he brings out the worst in her, the darkest of her. there’s a sneer and a snarl on her red lips, her anger shaking the walls of her enclosure.

‘ i want to make you bleed. ’

( hello i’m here to be A Menace i hope you don’t mind 😇😇😇 )

｡𖦹°‧ ━━━ the lineage is a tapestry on fire. when he thinks about the skywalker dynasty, it is always in flames. he wonders what she makes of it, what she knows, given her own mysterious familial line. but whenever he prods at her about it, it inflames her irritation. he supposes he has earned the right to her ire, and she to his blood. his chin tips up, as though making space for the edge of the blade against his pale throat. his helmet lies abandoned, cast aside on the ground; she had unfastened it when she had quelled his form, bearing the collection of his features, the mausoleum that is ancestry. dark eyes adjust to the deprivation of the metal. the force-shape of her is blinding, an eclipse at light-speed, which does not reach him until she is upon him. there is something primaeval moving in her force signature. it startles him and intrigues him in equal measure.

❝ you wound me, lady vasya. ❞ kylo ren deadpans. blood seeps from the tangible wound she has made, staining his cloak, and her hand, but he ignores it in lieu of the intangible insult ━━ her attempt to frighten him. the white-hot ache in his shoulder subsides to a dull throb, rendering his arm immobile. he does not care for it. the power in him is not beholden to the weakness of the flesh. the body is only a vessel for the mind, and pain is a stimulant for clarity. he has learnt that lesson, bleeding on the polished floor of the supremacy, before the throne of his master.

❝ if you mean to make me suffer, you’ll have to try harder than that. you're not the first to try teaching me through pain. ❞ gloved hand grasps the sharp blade, the one impelled in his shoulder, and presses it deeper betwixt his own tendons. his body protests. the act pulls her impossibly close. the fabric of his glove rips, skin tearing with it. his groan dissipates in the heated air between their lips, into her mouth, like smoke. ❝ i serve a cruel master. pain is only liturgy. it is the way of the dark... it would seem you are are not above it, after all. ❞ and the edges of his lips curl into a smile, the vestige of an in-born audacity that cannot be cleaved off his tongue even under duress.

his accusation comes as a demand for her inaction to cease. his bleeding hand comes to rest upon her wrist. ❝ stop holding back. ❞ there, beneath her second blade, his pulse thrums as vividly as the serrated energy of the lightsaber in his loose grasp.