Lucasfilm: Are you ready for the BEST of motherFUCKING DARKSIDE?????? He’s six feet of RAWMUSCLEand his hobbies include SMASHING things with a RED, EDGYLIGHTSABERand being a generally TERRIFYING MONSTER
At first, I thought this was saying that all the fandom wanted was a baby from Kylo Ren, and I was like ??? But then I was like ohhhh….. but also…reylo baby ❤️
happy christmas adam to all men’s rights activists
Please stop pestering us with things like this. This has nothing to do with men fighting for their rights. Eve is short for ‘evening’. Please don’t turn activism into a joke. Thanks.
Someone isn’t having a good christmas adam
Christmas Adam: December 23rd. Comes before Christmas Eve and is generally unsatisfying.
Having just escaped her captors, Rey had blindly bolted off into the forest when she stumbled and found herself tumbling down a steep ravine. The free fall seemed to have gone on for a long time, with everything moving in slow motion. When she finally came to a stop her body was reeling with dizziness and nausea.
Had she hit her head? She lie there for a moment in the snow, willing her head to stop spinning. Her breathing was hard and she tried to slow it and catch her breath.
It was then that she heard the growl.
Her eyes snapped open and she struggled to sit up. Her vision was blurred. A dark figure, loomed over her. It seemed to be a large animal of some sort.
Heat radiated from it. She scrambled back and desperately tried to make out the figure that seemed to dwarf her size, but to no avail. It was then that she heard the voice.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. I could never hurt you.”
The voice seemed like it was inside her own head. How could that be? She must really have hit her head hard.
“Hello?” She whispered.
Her voice sounded much farther away and smaller than it should have.
“Yes little one, I am here. Did those men hurt you?”
“Uh they tried, but I got away..”
She didn’t finish her sentence because she could sense the rage emanating from the dark form. It’s body trembled as he took in a few heaving breaths.
“Wait here.”
She felt the form leave her. It sounded like he was running away from her. She heard screams in the distance as she shivered in the snow, still unable to see properly.
A short while later, the figure returned, but it seemed different, more like a man.
“Are you there?” she asked warily
“Yes, little one. I have returned. Those men won’t harm you again. Come, let us get you home.”
Somehow his presence soothed her. Home?
She had no home.
“I uh..”
As if reading her mind, he responded to her thoughts.
“I am Lord Ren. You are welcome to stay with me here. This is my home. It is where you belong.”
The authority in his voice left no doubt as to the truth of this statement.
He gathered her up in his arms and covered her with a heavy fur-lined cloak as he carried her to his carriage.
Her thoughts were tumultuous, she was afraid and in shock. This would not do. There would be time to ease her mind later.
She was here, that was all that mattered. He had waited an eternity for her, this beautiful vision from his dreams, his one and only true mate.
Right now she needed to sleep and heal.
He waved his hand over her face.
“Sleep.”
Rey’s body relaxed as she fell into a deep sleep.
A few hours later Rey floated in between sleep and waking. She felt so safe. She sensed that she was moving, riding in a carriage.
A warm cloak surrounded her and a heavy arm held her. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth radiating from his body.
He smelled good, like the forest and spices and home. She never wanted to leave here. This was home.
What a beautiful dream…..she thought. I never want to wake up. I could stay here forever.
A chuckle rumbled underneath her head as Lord Kylo Ren heard that thought.
“Indeed you shall little one, indeed you shall…forever.”
This night, he reclined in his chair by the fire with his newly found treasure nestled against his chest. He tightened his hold on her waist and stroked her hair as he took in her scent and marveled at how tiny she was, how her light breathing reminded him of a fragile creature of the forest.
Reblogging because Chapter 3 is up…..
Descent Chapter 3 is up
Need you… need to be near you… need to touch you…
His voice seemed to be whispering into her mind, just on the edge of her consciousness.
It should have frightened her, but it didn’t. It made her skin feel hot and tight, made her heart race. it made her feel….
An exploration of Rey’s unseen grief over Ben’s death at the end of TROS.
(feat. Force Ghost Ben and a happy ending.)
preview:
The moment he is gone she forgets how to grieve.
The first and only thing she feels is pain, sharp and unyielding, like she has been run through by a lightsaber right in the soft spot at the base of her neck.
The pain fades quickly and is replaced instead by a hollowness that spreads from the centre of her chest outwards; an implacable coldness that consumes her quickly. She feels her face ease from its tormented grimace into something that might have almost been considered serene if it didn’t feel so much like a brumal death from within. She exhales softly, a light breath released from lips that have gone numb.
Her hands dazedly pat the soft material of his tunic, still warm from his body, as though she has somehow just missed him. As though she’ll still make contact with a solid form underneath and within.
Instead, all she encounters is the scrabbled ground beneath the fabric. There is no warm, breathing, living man within. It is now just an overlay for the hard unyielding rock below.
Had it truly been just moments before that she had held him in her arms, legs spread across his, their chests touching?
Was it really only seconds prior where their lips had met, held and captured, his mouth moving against her own? The feel of his fevered breath expelling from his nose and hitting her cheek as they desperately, awkwardly tasted each other for the first time? His arms hefting her, holding her, crushing her to him?
Had it even really happened?
For a moment she wonders if maybe she is dead again.
Maybe she is still dead.
Maybe she was always dead?
The feeling is the same, after all. The feeling of being trapped in that horrid liminal space where she had screamed and screamed in isolated terror, her voice singular amongst the endless stars; that inky blackness symbolizing a blank eternity.
Her throat feels raw, raw like she is still screaming although her face does not move aside from the slow descent of her eyelids, blink after painful blink.
Her breath comes out in short bursts as she scrambles up on shaky legs. At the last second she reaches down and grasps the shirt still on the ground, crumpling it up and sticking it under her arm. Her feet feel like leaden weights, knees wobbling, the coldness in her chest beginning to feel like an icy burn.
Originally I was planning to share this one later as a part of my upcoming epIX “serie ”…something to bright up these difficult days…Stay strong everyone!
It’s quiet, finally.
Not just in the Falcon, not just in their bed, not just in the warmth and security of her arms.
But quiet…everywhere.
No longer does he have insidious whispers in his mind. The voices once so difficult to differentiate from his own.
Those voices of evil. Of hate. The ones that pushed and prodded him for his entire life into a reluctant existence of howling rage.
He’d always begged for silence. To be free of the burden of those voices, those pernicious and malevolent things.
He’d always known how good it would feel, the quiet.
Had always imagined how sweet and how right it would be.
What he hadn’t anticipated, couldn’t have possibly known, was the sheer perfection, this painfully poignant tenderness, of experiencing it in the arms of someone he loved.
Originally I was planning to share this one later as a part of my upcoming epIX “serie ”…something to bright up these difficult days…Stay strong everyone!
It’s quiet, finally.
Not just in the Falcon, not just in their bed, not just in the warmth and security of her arms.
But quiet…everywhere.
No longer does he have insidious whispers in his mind. The voices once so difficult to differentiate from his own.
Those voices of evil. Of hate. The ones that pushed and prodded him for his entire life into a reluctant existence of howling rage.
He’d always begged for silence. To be free of the burden of those voices, those pernicious and malevolent things.
He’d always known how good it would feel, the quiet.
Had always imagined how sweet and how right it would be.
What he hadn’t anticipated, couldn’t have possibly known, was the sheer perfection, this painfully poignant tenderness, of experiencing it in the arms of someone he loved.
Reblogging again because 1) the artwork is breathtaking by itself and 2) the words by @delia-pavorum are beautifully paired with it and together they feed my soul.
Originally I was planning to share this one later as a part of my upcoming epIX “serie ”…something to bright up these difficult days…Stay strong everyone!
It’s quiet, finally.
Not just in the Falcon, not just in their bed, not just in the warmth and security of her arms.
But quiet…everywhere.
No longer does he have insidious whispers in his mind. The voices once so difficult to differentiate from his own.
Those voices of evil. Of hate. The ones that pushed and prodded him for his entire life into a reluctant existence of howling rage.
He’d always begged for silence. To be free of the burden of those voices, those pernicious and malevolent things.
He’d always known how good it would feel, the quiet.
Had always imagined how sweet and how right it would be.
What he hadn’t anticipated, couldn’t have possibly known, was the sheer perfection, this painfully poignant tenderness, of experiencing it in the arms of someone he loved.
