This blog will not interact with any underage content. Stories on this blog will remain 18+, and as such I will block and remove those who are underage.
Themes you may encounter on this blog: Mental Manipulation, Force Use, Violence, Degradation, Sexual Content, Murder, among other things that will be tagged appropriately.
Ultimately, I would like for this blog to be a place where I can create well thought out stories with individuals who are interested in participating. While I'll accept and respond to just about any ask that I receive, if you find yourself interested in creating a story, please message me as I would be more than happy to discuss and plot with you.
I could only recall flashes of the dream. Small shards and fragmented pieces of places I've never been, people I've never seen. The harder I tried to sort them out, the faster they seemed to slip away.
Sitting up in bed I attempted to shake off the feelings. These unsettling dreams were happening more frequently than ever since I'd been transferred to The First Order's flagship destroyer, and I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever get a good night's sleep again.
Damnit
A high-pitched pinging on my datapad refocused my attention. A communications alert. No wonder I had jerked awake with such a start.
"Gods, what have they done now?" I muttered aloud, parsing quickly through the information I'd been sent by my night shift monitors. Seeking out a sweater in the darkness, I sighed and glanced over at the clock. 0243. Clearly I wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon, and it would take them all night to figure out those translations without me. Gathering my resolve to brave the chill, I made my way through the dim corridors of the Finalizer.
It's happened again, the nightmares...
Kylo jolts awake, his heart hammering in his chest and blood thundering through his veins. His quarters once again lie in ruins with items strewn about, panels indented from the objects that had gone flying in the midst of his sleep-induced Force use. He's losing his control again, as if the state of his private space isn't proof enough.
He is angry—at Snoke, at his parents, his uncle, himself. But most of all, he is scared. He has no one now, not a soul to rely on but himself and how could he possibly begin to do that when he is nothing more than... than...
...a child in a mask.
Snoke's words hit him full force, eliciting a cry of anger and frustration at the situation he finds himself in once again. Even now, after all this time and having defeated his former mentor he still is not free of this anguish, this pain.
Rather than sit and wallow in the self pity he had so often found himself in prior to his assuming the role of Supreme Leader, Kylo rises from his spot on the bed and dresses himself for a new day in spite of the early hour. He makes no attempts at tidying the mess he's made—he'll have a droid come clean it up, after all—as he makes his exit from his quarters.
Even still, try as he might to escape the thoughts that plague him nightly, as he strides down one of the Finalizer's many corridors, he finds he cannot rid his mind of them. So lost is he in his own mind that he fails to hear the reverberating steps of another that approaches from the opposite direction. It isn't until his body collides with another upon rounding the corner that he is swiftly brought back to the present.
My heart thunders in my chest upon hearing my name as I am called in, having waited weeks for my meeting with the Supreme Leader.
It was finally happening.
My fingers wring nervously together while I take a deep, steadying breath. When the shakiness in my nerves subside, I hold my head high and stride into the throne room.
My eyes land on the dark mass that is Kylo Ren, who is sitting upon a large throne at the center of the room.
I am surprised to find his ominous helmet, streaked in angry red bolts, resting atop one of the wide armrests, and facing toward the door-- as if keeping watch of the entrance. The mask's owner, too, stares straight ahead, dark eyes boring into me as I approach the dais and stop mere meters from where he sits.
I immediately fall to my knees and bow my head, averting my eyes to the ground and refusing to look upon him until told otherwise.
"I am here to pledge myself to you and the First Order, Your Supremacy."
The sight that plays out before him is not an unfamiliar one. From the very moment Kylo usurped the throne from Snoke and ceased the endless, maddening thoughts that had plagued him for so long, a multitude of would-be followers made their appearances to pledge their allegiance to the new Supreme Leader. None of which had captured his attention...
Until now.
Those who had come prior to the one kneeled before him now had done so with trembling bodies and unsure hearts. But this one... This pretty little thing pledging herself to him so surely, with such conviction... He can practically feel the certainty radiating off of her in waves, so tangible that he could almost swear that if he were to reach his hand out now he could grasp it.
When Kylo finally speaks, it is with a voice that booms and echoes in the expansive space the pair occupy. "What is your name?"
He could take the information, surely, and he has many times before, but what is the need for such a response when she is offering herself and her loyalty to him and the First Order so freely?
So he waits, as patiently and as calmly as he's learned through all those trying years beneath Snoke's thumb. He waits and he watches, and when her head finally lifts to meet his gaze with her own, he finds himself rather enamored by the sight.
Do you need to have faith in something you already know exists? If you can wield it - are gods then not aliens or genetic mutations who we previously did not understand? A higher power is just a power we cannot yet comprehend...
... If there is a point to be made then I suggest you make it.
Kylo's head tips down to watch the affectionate display before him with a dispassionate expression. A hum rumbles outward from his chest upon hearing the words that leave her mouth.
"That's enough," he replies, pulling his boot away from the reach of her lips.
