#lighteas

rey:

               the   force ,   or   the   sombrous ,   sullen ,   sinister   part   of   it ,   that   passes   between   selves ,   or   self   and   non-self ,   churning   in   body   and   mind ,   in   between   bone   and   muscle ,   the   force ,   the   hunger ,   the   flame.   moment   by   moment ,   it   expands   —   this   is   event   horizon ,   a   cancerous   black   hole ,   a   wound   that   repeatedly   gains   agency   over   itself   —   the   force   is   not   the   force   here ,   but   the   underside   of   it.   &   the   force   hums ,   like   prayer ,   it   recognizes   the   sacrament   of   the   host.   he   has   told   himself   once:   there cannot be a beginning without the smallest degree of bleeding , the littlest form of cannibalism.   &   he   knows   he   is   beyond   her   and  above   her ,   ever   evolving ,   ever   mutating.   he   knows  he   belongs   to   larger   worlds   than   ones   designed   by   simplicity.   perhaps   it   is   fortunate   that   black   upon   black   space   separates   them ,   that   this   is   only   another   haunting ,   it   occurs   to   him   that   his   hand   is   itching   to   touch   her   neck ,   to   close   her    throat ,   not   gently ,   but   not   violently.   maybe   she   will   get   what   is   almost   mercy ,   the   closest   thing   to   it ,   because   the   rough   curve   of   her   frown   reminds   him   of   his   mother.  

                                   𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛           𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝          𝚊           𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐     .    ,      ❞

WHAT HAPPENED

i thought u were talking abt the show and i was like betty WAKE UP he got mauled by a bear and then killed himself………. take his name off the damn door smh

  ☍ — ...  𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞  𝐨𝐧𝐞  𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝  𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.         (    send   one   of   the   words   for   our   muses   to   interact   based   off   that   word   )    |   sent in by @lighteas​

    𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑,   but as a boy confined to an embrace of pain—  tendrils of harm consorting with the man behind the machine, on the best way 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍;   needles & electric shocks, foreign toxins & poisons delivered straight into his blood / straight into the very tissues of his muscles.   the trauma flashes behind his eyes, erupting in mental pain which plagued his dreams as if he were still there...   𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏’𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔, waiting for an opening in which the darkside could slip into his chest, and make itself a home behind his ribs.   

                                                                        𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃.

those words which darth caedus had spoken to him, 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖.   he had searched within the force—  had desperately clawed his way through each star, each milky way...  and yet caedus allowed him to see only that which the sith lord wanted.   he saw nothing.  he felt nothing.  he thought for the first time in this world, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆.   no mom, no dad, he couldn’t even feel rey;.  he was truly alone 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎, replaced by the man who had tortured him.   

shooting upright in the bed, and straight into his sister’s waiting arms—  the marks on the boy’s throat, leading down his shirt and appearing once more on pallid wrists, are clear reminders that these events took place only days ago;  the boy’s body still running itself ragged to be free of the full clutches of whatever it was which had been pumped into his system.  

𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕, he thinks she’s their mother;  but such bliss only lasts for a second, as he remembers... and he remembers well, that their mother is no longer there.  that the reason he had ended up 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗, was because of a need to avenger her.  a need to forget the pain he had felt holding her corpse in his arms, as the last of the warmth in her body bled into his own.   𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒚, though.   eyes bright despite the darkness encapsulating the room, as he looks up to her—  fingers wound tight in the girl’s nightshirt.