kylo-wrecked

[kylo-wrecked]

'I'm drinking milk' is not only a salutation in the language of wolves: it's a hell-o-o drawn out like a good pour. Her voice is full-cream, lofted, changeable, a cloud—something that bounces colors off it. 

"Listening to you drink milk."

And Thundercat bobbing through the receiver—not that he's discerning. The twinging bass tells him. Ben presses his cheek to the spaceship-thick pane. He doesn't imagine Brunnhilde in boxers, the room around her, the curve of the glass resting in her hand. Ben's always seen in tunnel vision; she's bright, bright, bright at the end, and he isn't. He can hear himself, this dire undercurrent, something he'd cut. 

"Nothing," he admits. 

There's a partly opened door in Kubrick's foyer and the sound of death behind it—a soundless and continuous thudding, the toll of a day's work undone. Visible in ways that aren't audible, even from all the way down here over the Battery.

@valkxrie

@kylo-wrecked from x

No 'hello'. No 'hi, it's Ben'. A wolf never gave a warning.

Her tongue touches the tip of her canine as she listens. Her head tilts against her phone.

"I'm drinking milk" an honest reply. She's wearing only boxers. Her tongue is full-cream. There's music playing behind her voice; Mono Neon or Thundercat. He'd only know two of those things through the phone.

An echo bounces off the trinkets in her apartment; off the art, the rugs, the blankets draped across a burnt orange Camaleonda. Off her bare legs. Her half-glass. Off his voice in her ear.

In a softer tone "what are you doing?"

#valkxrie #m. au | music!verse ben: nowhere man #r. of those who sold the world

[kylo-wrecked]

🕳️ from Sam to murder!ren

{ 🕯️ You conjured: Murder!Kylo}

The stranger regards the zealot warily. Which is which? Which asks the question and which receives the answer? Sam extends the silence between two shadows, paints it across the red-lit motel room with a star, a cross. Following this silence, the figure in Kylo's eyes of sawn timber crawls with wrath's woodworm. They know each other's names now. 

"How can you know that?" The dark of Kylo's sawtoothed voice breaks the silence after a long time—long after Sam has made his claim—and sets it between them. "Why would the Ren speak to you?"

They know much more than each other's names. While the Ren remains unstated in a Plattsburgh motel, Kylo's eyes are chewed with woodworm. 

"Well..." He swallows saliva down a glass throat, folding the mast of his body to inspect Sam. "Do you only answer questions regarding the future?" 

Sam is little more than a head of matted brown swaying from the chair he's tied to, which speaks of fate like that of a crazed, guillotined oracle choking in its last seconds of bleeding: the Dice Killer will see to the undoing of every last First Order affiliate —and there will be more blood. But the Ren had never asked for more. 

Kylo reaches with his brown-hide hand and wrests Sam's head from its drooping position with a fistful of hair. Blood dribbles down Sam's chin, blood and more blood, while Kylo's stone face and crawling eyes await an answer. 

@ifyoucatchacriminal

#ifyoucatchacriminal #m. au | murder!kylo: the dice killer

[kylo-wrecked]

#shenanakins #kylux

[kylo-wrecked]

♥️ this if you prefer to be asked about reviving threads from a million years several months ago.

*don't like this if you're okay with unprompted threading*

#ooc #housekeeping #rp stuff #{ofc asking/'touching base' applies under certain circumstances}

[kylo-wrecked]

do me a flavour and ♥️ this if you're okay with me responding, unprompted, to threads from a million years several months ago?

*don't like this if you prefer to be asked*

#ooc #housekeeping #rp stuff #{things tend to get lost in here *points at head*} #{then i raid archives and see posts i've missed or misplaced} #{and find i desperately want to respond to some of these Lost Posts}

[kylo-wrecked]

2021

#kylo ren

[kylo-wrecked]

🌺 send this to ten blogs you think are wonderful 🌺

aw - thank you for being wonderful, fren. much appreciated.

#ooc #mun love #{stop by anytime 🤙}

[kylo-wrecked]

Reblog so everyone can hear what they need.

#ooc #writing stuff #writing psa #poll my finger

[kylo-wrecked]

ok sorry for the activity pause everyone but a. I’m outside (real-time pic4proof) and b. Personal life very full and c. lol work.

#ooc #/delete later

[kylo-wrecked]

activity: sporadic

ledger*updated 24 April: 17 drafts, 5 asks

thread tracker: updated as far as i know

{if you don’t see yourself here, that doesn’t mean we aren’t writing/can’t write together. pls nudge me if i’ve missed your post. as always, lmk if you’d like to drop/hoard/hold everything/start from scratch/explore something else.}

hi new & old frens & everyone: 

(may be scarce over the week tbd <3 )

rules

faqs

interest check

#ooc #rp update #rl update #housekeeping

[kylo-wrecked]

by  Anders Røkkum

#inspo #art #ben & brunn: one shaken and one stirred

[kylo-wrecked]

Send 🕳️ to commune paranormally with my muse (Ingvar for Dark Ren?)

{ 🕯️ You conjured: Dark!Ren: The Shade }

They rose in this shade over the piano string bones in the giant's feet, billowing aloft the trees as far as the umbra would take them. Their tendrils fizzled at sunbeams and traveled no further than the elbow.

Why fear us? the Ren hissed. We can hardly daywalk.

Their voice traveled neither up nor down, it only seemed. It was a trick, a tremble in the branches.

And what would we do with a vessel like yours? it taunted. Run over the towns until they sent warships after us? That has its uses, but for how long?

All of them, a glamour of the shadows, and a glamour of shadows they'd become once more, once the body had gone.

@riiese

#riiese #fant au | dark!ren: the shade

[kylo-wrecked]

Plotz. That’s a Jake word, as in Steven'd never use it. Two variations on a theme. Same number, though. Same contact. It says so right there in the little pink circle.

“Whaaaaaat.” Ben slumps forward onto his knees and stares beyond the screen into a liminal glow, face gone ghost. Ping ping ping. Spine shoots straight up—“what’s new?”

Jake, check? Steven, check? All the fucking emojis. Ben digs a canine into a knuckle.

“What is going on?”

An endless percussion of questions rickets his mind. Why's pink overlapping blue? What's he reading? What the fuck is he listening to? Ben kicks back the chair and turns around, hangs his deplorable head over the mic again:

“Guys. guys—drop the snare. What is happening? Stop. Err. Take five. Take the evening, if you don’t mind. Go drink kombucha on tap. We're done here."

He storms out, and the lights go with him. A black blur.

One of the bespectacled producers (of what?) glances at Brandon/Brandan.

“Is he kiddin'?”

Brendon turns red from ear to cheek.

“I’ll call Rachel.”

And Ben is in a stairwell, behind a door, his face buried in his phone like—

[REDACTED] haha wtf [REDACTED] really [REDACTED] where are you [REDACTED] where do you park that thing when youre done fucking around [REDACTED] nvm no [REDACTED] pick me up

@silverjetsystm

Continued with @kylo-wrecked from x 📱 edition.

Yes, the system has one phone number. Steven and Jake both gave their digits to Ben.

New message buzz.

New messages, judging by the vibrations escalating to an anxious jittery mess against the cupholder. Put it on vibrate. It's less disturbing. "Lies," grumbles swallowed up by one of his inoffensively mind-numbing work playlists that he tunes out.

Tourists.

Snatch an eyeful of ant lines of 'Solo' parading and typing dots between pulling the parking brake and helping the tourists get their luggage out of the cab trunk.

Grant's Contact Solo (says so right in the contact notes if he opens up the app).

Cash tip. Fair percentage.

He gets in line with the other cabs, drivers waiting for the next wave, and catches up.

Solo: yet

Solo: yeah

Solo: what. Don't plotz on me

Should he get back into signing his texts? Eh. Solo's Grant's Contact and Jake's phone losing, fist fighting farshnoshket. Cept the other night, tucked away in Battery Park between himself and well--.

Solo: is Jake

Solo: phone ✔️ Jake ✔️ Grant 🚫 whoever 🚫

Solo: hello

Solo: last few days are a blur. What's new?

#silverjetsystm #m. au | music!verse ben: nowhere man

[kylo-wrecked]

k, what kind of shows do you attend? - e.

girl—i just told. jk ok. i should say 'gigs.' that's a music!ben word now :'/

tomorrow's ska/alt/‘hardcore:’ half past two, devon kay & the solutions, the pomps, we are the union.

last week's metal/aggrotech: cultus black, esoterik (bad set; producers did em dirty), dead animal assembly plant, treasvre, combichrist.

next week maybe edm/fusion 'soundcloud rap.' tbd.

i love live shows. i love jazz clubs. i love the ballet. the ballet is not within my price range/range of interest rn tho.

#ooc #music #about the mun

[kylo-wrecked]

end of week is going to be A Thing.

a. accepted a last minute invite to another show thursday/tomorrow night. 👏 olé!

b. friend crashing at my place this weekend after a bad breakup. i have little patience on the matter *contextual detail withheld* so will be practicing a very spiritual and special stfu.

#ooc #rl update #rp update

[kylo-wrecked]

Kylo Ren

The Last Jedi (2017)

#kylo ren

[kylo-wrecked]

Send 🕳️ to commune paranormally with my muse

(+reverse) (our kylo/revisited daenerys verse)

{ 🕯️ You conjured: Dark!Ren }

So the First Order fell to naught, and Snoke was undone atom by atom. But not by Ren.

"You still ask me to lead these people?" he replied, in the voice she remembered, transmogrified. "To what end? Their death? They'll all arrive someday." 

He bent the body, and the helm dipped down to Daenerys' naked face, her violet eyes. There was the shudder of the first bones in his cowl. Did she not hear the music they made?

Ren reached with glove-bound flesh and laid two fingers on her breastbone, one above her heart's cavity, one below. Her allowance was not lost on him. Surprise was a pleasant ember in his armor.

The fingers sunk into her flesh as though into a bed of soil. It must have been a trick, a spell, a dream runed by a witch, one he'd borrowed.

Daenerys took a breath, a stubborn choke on grief or anger, as Kylo Ren sunk forefinger and thumb deeper into her pericardial chamber. The other digits slipped in line, and Ren's shadow voice thrummed through them, running circles around her heart.

You've come for a memory 

You've come to a grave

No past dwells in this carapace

Then he spoke again.

"Do you think I have a great power, Daenerys? I don't have power. I have knowledge and sight, and I serve in their favor. There will be others who do the same."

With hand curled around her heart, he asked softly, "Do you want to see? If you can." 

@lastxdragon

#lastxdragon #sw au | dark!ren: renegade knight