#but physically couldn't and then was consumed by a growing darkness. sad!

[moe-broey]

Hnngh... trying..... SO HARD to stay wawakem...

[queenpiranhadon]

"Daddy! Why are you sad?"

Satoru chuckles, ruffling his daughter's hair affectionately, scooping her up in his large hands and situating her on his lap.

"Aw...is my pumpkin concerned for Daddy? Don't worry kiddo, Daddy isn't sad- just..." he paused, thinking of the right word. "tired."

Your daughter pouts, cerulean eyes peering up to gaze into her father's. "You should buy a pony Daddy! That way you won't be sad!"

Satoru laughs in surprise. "A pony, huh? Maybe I will...but I don't think Mommy will let us."

"Mommy won't let you do what?" you say, coming up from behind the couch and lean over the back to see the situation, eyebrow raised in suspicion. "Satoru, what propaganda are you teaching our child?"

"Daddy said you wouldn't let us buy a pony!" your daughter chirps and you stare at him incredulously.

"Absolutely not."

"But Mommy!"

"No!"

"C'mon sweetheart-"

"Stop enabling her!"

If he could, Satoru would have that memory tattooed to the inside of his brain, memorizing the way you laughed, your daughter's giddy face, the fuzzy domestic feeling in his heart, everything. If he could, Satoru would do anything in his power to feel that feeling again.

But he couldn't.

Because yet again, Satoru Gojo experiences one of the feelings he thought he left behind, all those years ago.

Grief.

It was during the war, when Satoru comes home late from a battle, only to find you lying on the cold tiled floor, in a pool of your own blood. In your arms, your 6 year old daughter, unconscious with a serious head injury.

A curse had come into your home in the middle on the night, and attacked you while he was gone. And Satoru wasn't there to protect you.

You didn't survive the encounter. You had lost far too much blood for the doctors to nurse you back to health, and your body was damaged beyond repair.

Your daughter was spared however. She was able to be nursed back to health, but her severe head injury gave her severe and permanent amnesia. She had no idea who you or Satoru was.

His own daughter- just…gone.

After that, Satoru just...broke.

He quit his teaching job at Jujutsu High, and left jujutsu society without a trace.

Satoru wasn't a stranger to hiding his true emotions, always masking any negative feelings behind the mask he'd worn for so many years.

But when you died, Satoru had died with you.

The Satoru Gojo of the physical world was nothing more than a hollow body with an empty heart, pain caused it to wither into nothing, as if it was never there.

"Why are you sad Daddy?" He could almost hear her say.

He's tired, he would say, like always.

But never why.

He was tired of watching his daughter grow up from afar, tired of not living a life with you at his side. Tired of waking up in a cold bed, in an empty house, far too big and lonely for him to live in by himself. Tired of being alone at night, consumed by nightmares and the suffocating feeling of grief and depression that overwhelmed him so much it hurt to breathe. Tired of not waking up to your kisses, your love, tired of not waking up to you, falling asleep with you, tired of not being with you.

How could he live without you? You the love of his life, his sweetheart, his everything. How could he live without you by his side, without the life you had made together? How could he watch his daughter grow up without you there to grow old with by his side?

The truth is- he couldn’t.

And Satoru knew that.

Soon, he promised himself. Soon, he'd be able to reunite with you again.

"You told me to buy a pony but all I wanted was you..." - Hidden in the Sand, Tally Hall.

A/N: This got really dark hahah...based on an idea I had last night

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

NOCTURNAL ANIMAL.

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Kurt Wagner x Wife! Fem! Reader.

¿Request? Yes!

This is a NSFW Headcanon! (Pwp?)

warnings ⸺ mdni! (18+ ONLY),Dark themes, violence/death, blood, ¿OOC Kurt? Idk, nsfw, dubcon, religious references, established relationship, marriage, praise, scratching, AFAB! Reader, biting, explicit sex, dacryphilia, rough sex, creampie, crying, penetration, masturbation, oral reception (F+M! Receiving), hair pulling, tail kink, messy kissing.

sinopsis ⸺ He was like a wild animal, marked by a fierce and primal need. Every kiss, every touch, every sigh from him was an act of worship and possession. In the eyes of God, his only sin was loving you too much, until his love became an uncontrollable fire that consumed him completely. In his desperation, he was capable of anything to have you, to make you his, to show that his devotion knew no bounds. And as he gave himself to you, the echo of his sin resonated in every corner of his being.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish is— This is for @lieberhase. My apologies for the delay, this is the most overdue request I have. I’ve been overwhelmed with many things to do, and I couldn't dedicate the time it truly deserved. I’m sorry it turned out short; the last thing I want is to cause you any inconvenience. I really appreciate your patience and understanding, and I promise I will do my best to ensure this doesn't happen again. Thank you for your support, I truly value it ♡

Kurt was a two-faced demon, much like his parents. When you first started dating, some time after meeting at the institute, he played the part of your perfect prince, treating you like you were his deity. He loved marking you with kisses in the most visible places and often sought heated make-out sessions in front of anyone he deemed a rival. Kurt wanted to eliminate every suitor who dared enter your life—and he succeeded more than once! But it broke his heart to see you sad and distraught after hearing that yet another new friend had died under mysterious circumstances. So he resigned himself to simply pouring his jealous fervor into you instead, finding that preferable to seeing your friends strung up somewhere with bloody claw marks and sword-inflicted wounds that, indirectly, you had caused.

In the early days of your physical relationship, he was fixated on making you climax first. Often, he would start with his mouth, using his long tongue (his demonic heritage shining through) to worship your cunt on his face. He could stay like that for hours, wanting only to adore your small, tender flesh against his mouth. His deep moans reverberated against your slick, sensitive skin, mixing your juices with his hot saliva. His tail held you firmly in place, preventing you from squirming too much from the overstimulation. He couldn’t stop; the scent of your sweetness filling his nose and mouth with each roll of your hips, your desperation to climax—all of it was divine. To see you twist and tremble with abandon above him, lost in pleasure, was to glimpse paradise. He whispered praises in German, words slipping out in the language of his euphoria, too intoxicated to bother with English.

When you returned the favor, Kurt was, in truth, a little hesitant. Don’t get him wrong—he loved the way you did it. You were incredible, but the sight of your tear-streaked cheeks whenever his tip hit the back of your throat drove him absolutely wild. The air felt thick as you stroked him, his cock slick with your spit and his precum, his breath hitching every time you gazed up at him with those pretty, puppy-like eyes. Your tongue moved eagerly around him, and as you took him into the warmth of your mouth, he began to lose control. “I love you… oh... Liebling, you know you’re mine, right?... All... mine” he moaned, voice growing louder as he unraveled. And when he could take no more, he grabbed your hair and thrust into your mouth with abandon, calling out his love for you in German. At last, he would spill deeply down your throat, ensuring you swallowed every drop. “You’re so good, Schatz… so perfect.”

Sixty-nine was another favorite of his, a chaotic symphony of sensations as if fireworks were exploding within both your stomachs, a shared euphoria bordering on divinity itself.

Before marriage, you two only engaged in oral sex. Kurt wanted to preserve both your purity and his until the right time, refusing to penetrate you even when you begged for it. “I’m sorry, Engel... I love you, and I’d do anything for you, but it’s better if we wait, no matter how much it hurts...” he’d whisper, lying next to you, feeling each restraint chipping at his resolve. He stored away that primal need to take you, to lose himself in you like an animal in heat, all so the moment could be special for both of you, but especially for you.

Yet, when the time came and that fragile barrier shattered, he couldn’t stop himself. He captured you in a fierce embrace, pushing into you, his cock sinking deep and finding the sweetest, most tender part of you. The gentle Kurt you once knew vanished, replaced by a primal version of himself, ready to mark you, to fill you, to claim you. He growled, his hips moving with wild, relentless force, fucking you harder with each thrust. His cock pulsed inside you, his balls slapping against you as he drove deeper. Leaning in, he bit down on your shoulder hard enough to leave a lasting mark.

He loved telling you how beautiful you looked, tear-streaked and drooling just for him. Your nails dug sensually into his back, making him blush and delirious, thrilled that you were marking him, in turn, your own way. “Meine Liebe… deine Muschi ist so eng…” he moaned in your ear, his tail teasing your clit or pressing into your other entrance, all while using his thick cock to reach those perfect spots inside you, watching with delight as you trembled beneath him. He savored the way your cunt clenched around him, fitting him so beautifully.

He moved you like his own personal doll, molding your insides to the shape of his cock on every surface he could find. Your cries and his groans echoed through the house as he bent you to his will. “Oh God, I’m going to fill you up… we’ll be a big family,” he muttered right before spilling his hot seed deep inside, painting your tender walls with his essence.

“Mmm... Yes… take my seed, Liebling... Let me fill you with my essence... let the world see you’re mine,” he purred, his fingers pressing his cum deeper inside you, ensuring you were utterly filled with him.

Even afterward, when you lay limp on the bed, he would take care of you, murmuring endless apologies for his roughness, kissing every mark he left, cradling you gently as he carried you to the bath to clean up. “Rest now, Engel… there’s still so much ahead... I won’t stop until you understand that no one else could ever make you feel like I do.”

A/N ─── Okay, so, this was way out of character. I know, I know, Kurt would definitely be kind and gentle during sex because, well, that's just who he is—he's all about that soft, caring energy, especially in intimate moments. But honestly, I feel like Yandere!Kurt would be soooo different. Like, in a completely different league.

If we’re talking about Yandere!Kurt, things would shift. His love would still be intense, but in a way that borders on obsessive. We all know how deeply Kurt feels about his loved ones, how protective he is of those he cares about, right? But Yandere!Kurt would take that to a whole other level. He wouldn’t just be gentle and thoughtful—he’d be possessive, maybe even a bit possessive to the point of being a little too protective.

I can totally see him being that way in a more intimate setting, especially if he’s completely devoted to someone. He’d be gentle at first, but there’s always that undercurrent of control and adoration in everything he does. He’d need to feel like you’re his, like you're totally and utterly his. Every touch would feel like a claim, a marking of his territory, but in the softest, most intimate way possible, you know?

It’s like he wouldn’t just want to please you—he’d want to possess you. In his mind, his love would be absolute, and he would do anything to make sure you never leave his side. The love he feels would be a mixture of devotion and this intense need to keep you close. So, yeah, Yandere!Kurt would be different. More... intense. More possessive. More desperate to make sure you never, ever doubt his devotion. It’s almost like his kindness would become overwhelming because he’d want to keep you, forever.

It would be the sweetest, most obsessive love, and honestly, I think that would be such a wild, yet compelling dynamic for him. Just imagine him loving you so much that he can’t let go, always ensuring you’re safe, always there, and yes, maybe even a little overboard, but that’s what makes it so unique.

But anyway, I hope you all liked this! If you want anything else, feel free to ask me anytime. I’m always up for requests!

Take a bath!!

[nessiithatsme]

Unexpected Connection - Logan Henderson

Prologue

"Damn it, now say it. Just say I was just part of your amusement. Your personal pastime!"

How could I believe him for another moment? How could I still believe that anything he'd said was true after everything he was saying now about this rift between us? I could no longer see him without thinking of the words that perhaps the whole world had already heard. The whole world. I was just one of many, one he had used in his own little show - a fleeting shadow in a game I had never understood. How had I been so blind? So stupid? I had thought we could do it. Us against them. He and I, side by side, conquering the world, standing against everything. How could I have been so naive?

The cold New York wind cut through my jacket, snapping me out of my thoughts and forcing me back to reality. There he was. There he was, in that brown suit that clung to his body like a second skin. I saw his hand resting on the railing of the pier, his fingers barely more than a shadow on the metal. His eyes, so deep and dark, darted across the Manhattan skyline. He was thinking. I could tell - he was biting his lower lip, a tick he had when he was nervous or mulling something over. I knew him so well, or so I thought. How could I?

The wind carried his scent to me, sweet and heavy, a mix of sandalwood and cardamom that wrapped itself around me like an invisible ribbon. I had always liked it, this scent, almost like a drug that numbed my senses. Like a high that I never wanted to get rid of. But now everything felt different. The air burned in my lungs and I felt my heart tighten in my chest.

He shook his head as if he was trying to free himself of something, as if he was trying to let me go.

"I can't." His voice was rough, laced with a depth that sounded almost broken that night. A pain that he tried to hide, but which could not be denied. And then our eyes met. Those brown eyes that had always fascinated me so much, so infinitely deep and now... now they seemed almost black, as if they wanted to swallow me up. The shadow of the square, the darkness of the hour, had transformed them.

"I just can't." He repeated, as if to exonerate himself, as if he had to keep explaining to me why he couldn't fight anymore.

I felt the lump in my throat grow. Anger, sadness, a bitterness that almost suffocated me. He should apologize. He was the one who had betrayed me, not me. And yet I felt like the one who had failed. Like the one who had made the mistake of feeling too much, believing too much. How could I?

The tears that I had held back for so long suddenly found a way out. They ran, hot and salty, down my cheeks. I wanted to shoo them away, didn't want him to see how much he was destroying me. But it was too late.

"All right," I whispered as my voice almost gave out. "So it's over then? We never existed?"

The pain was so real, so physical, that I felt like my heart would burst into a thousand pieces. I saw him take a step towards me, as if he wanted to reach me, but my feet, paralyzed, did nothing but flinch. I didn't want him to tell me that. I didn't want it to end. Not like this. Not now. Not after everything I'd done for him. Not after everything we'd... everything I'd believed.

He reached out, looking for my hand. But I couldn't take it. The walls I had so painstakingly built were crumbling, but my pride refused to surrender them for good. I couldn't allow him to have any more power over me. Not anymore.

"God, how you disgusted me just now," I groaned. The words tasted bitter on my tongue. They were so much easier to say than I ever thought they would be. They came from deep inside, from a part of me that craved self-protection.

"Emma, listen to me. I can't because it's not true." His voice was firm now, a cold, unyielding bond that drew me further and further away from him. He looked at me with a gaze that almost consumed me. Those eyes, which had been so familiar, bored into me as if searching for some reaction, some final response that we both so desperately needed. But I was empty, burnt out.

There was nothing more I could do. And again, as if in a last desperate attempt to feel his closeness, that scent flowed to me, enveloping me like a thick fog. But it didn't help. Nothing helped.

At that moment, I really thought I was going to throw up. But it wasn't the wind or the smell of Manhattan that made me sick. It was him. And everything he had done to me.

-----

Should I post the whole Fanfic?

[shera-dnd]

Fuck it I'm gonna write a self indulgent DRK WoL x Yotsuyu drabble, because I can't get that sad bitch out of my head!

*ahem*

Swords clattered to the ground, one light, one dark. Tsukuyomi's form lost focus as the aether that comprised her began to wane, leaving behind only the form of Yotsuyu.

"No," she croaked, trying to cling to the fading form of her primal incarnation, "no!"

She felt the darkness approach her, the imposing presence fueled by untold suffering and hate. It was almost bitterly amusing to see the Warrior of Light, cloaked in the very thing she was sworn to destroy.

"Are you well?" the shape in the dark asked, her damned voice coated in the same worry and care she had used for "Tsuyu"

"Save your worry," Yotsuyu spat, dragging herself away from the other woman, "I'm not that poor pathetic thing you so loved to coddle."

The Warrior of Light seemed undeterred. She closed the gap between her and Yotsuyu and began to examine her up close.

"Your aether is fading fast," she stated, looking unflinchingly into Yotsuyu's eyes, "I'll give you some of mine. It should keep you stable until Alphinaud arrives."

She reached out with one hand, but Yotsuyu was quick to slap it away.

"Didn't you hear me?" Yotsuyu shouted, shoving off her would be savior, "I am not Tsuyu!"

"I don't care!" the Warrior of Light shouted back, grabbing Yotsuyu's hand, "you're hurting! You've been hurting your entire life, and I'm not letting this go a moment longer! So let me help you!"

That shocked her. It wasn't like Yotsuyu was physically capable of stopping her in this state, but that declaration left her too stunned to even try.

When the Warrior laced their fingers together she didn't stop her, simply accepting the gesture as what felt like a tidal wave of aether washed over her.

They sat there in silence for a while, simply allowing the aether to flow between them, slowly stabilizing Yotsuyu's strange new form. Though there was still something bothering her, something that kept her from meeting the Warrior of Light's gaze.

"Not enough," she spoke.

"What?"

"I didn't suffer enough," Yotsuyu stated, "even after everything that happened my pain and spite still couldn't hold a candle to yours."

What else could this be? The darkness they both drew on was so much stronger in the Warrior's heart. How else could she gain such power if not through unspeakable pain?

"Do you really believe that?" she asked, her presence growing unbearably close to Yotsuyu's, "that this is all about hate and spite?"

As Tsuyu she had yearned for this closeness. Gosetsu had been a father to her, but the Warrior... she had been a friend, her first real friend, and maybe... maybe even more than that.

Now it felt overwhelming, like the Warrior's presence would consume her entirely.

And once more she felt the need to step away, pulling her hand away from her savior's.

"What else could fuel you so?" Yotsuyu asked, arms crossing defensively.

But the Warrior of Light was undeterred. If Tsukuyomi's might could not push her away, then Yotsuyu's feeble attempts were doomed to fail.

The Warrior of Light cupped Yotsuyu's cheek and turned her face so they'd be looking each other eye to eye.

"Love, Yotsuyu," she declared without hesitation, "the darkness in our hearts, it feeds on Love."

~~~~

Yeah that's all I got. That was like all a stream of consciousness I had just as I woke up, because this woman has apparently caused irreversible damage to my brain chemistry.

Also I'm not editing this, because I guess that's kinda the point of drabbles, so uh now I guess you guys know why I need @greyvs to look over my things constantly

[artemiseamoon]

Preview: Stay in the light 2

Fic info

Words: 3,601

✨read in full on A03✨

Warnings: canon film warnings, shifters and alien creatures, a crash.

Same planet, same bar, same room and Johns was nowhere to be found.

This is the second time in 5 months Kiara couldn’t get a hold of him. Their last scheduled meeting was four months ago, he never showed. Taking a chance, she sent him another invite this month with the same results. Missing each other and rescheduling wasn't a rare thing, it happened sometimes. Still, whether delayed by an hour or days, they both showed up, except for now.

Johns missing their date a second time in a row stirred an odd mix of emotions in Kiara. Purely sexual bonds were simple, to the point, and never left her with lingering feelings; once they were over, they were over. Not with Johns, and this left her feeling both frustrated and confused, she couldn't understand why his disappearance bothered her so much.

How long should I wait? A day? An hour? Two days?

If the broody dark stranger who got his claws in her walked through that door right now, she's not sure what she would do first; kiss him or yell at him?

Everything has an expiration date; she knew that, and she was taught it over and over again growing up.

(Don't get attached to things, it's a waste of time and energy. Especially not men.)

She could hear her mother's voice in her head, deep rooted, spiney vines pierced into her bones.

Maybe this was for the best.

If she let herself admit it, she was getting attached to Johns, in her own way. Going cold turkey could be a good thing.

As she waited in their room alone, she could feel that energetic cord between them; this invisible thread that bound them and with each encounter it grew thicker and heavier; it plunged deep into their bodies, to the roots of their feet and the ground they walked on. Their souls and bodies are tethered, without reason or explanation and she wonders, if he feels this too.

Wherever the man is, she can sense he's alive, but that's all she knows. Part of her was upset, could he have tired of her? Another part didn't care, it says move on. Another part of her only grew more curious about the man she's shared a bed with for this long.

Who was Johns?

He could be a terrible person with little to no redeemable or human qualities. He could be the kind of man Kiara was often paid to hunt down and take out, or, he could just be a broken man, a broken man consumed by his own darkness and sadness which coats his aura and bones like ink. Or a mix of them all.

Still, something about him struggles to break through the darkness; a weak part of his former self holding on for dear life, and this part is what stood out to her the most, this is the part of him she feels the most empathy and curiosity about. His physical attractiveness aside, she felt this deep, muted desperation in him the very first time they met and something in her wanted to reach in and grab it, to dissect and analyze it; to hold it close.

Where did Johns come from? Did he have family? If so, he still seemed like a man alone in the world.

Read in full on A03 only.

Three - soon

No tags

@artemiseamoon-updates

A03: artemiseamoon

[writingwrittenwriting]

Sky Blues

Intro:

"I love them, I love my babies" Eve's voice was so soft, so sad. She knew she couldn't take care of them, that they needed a better mother than the confused girl who barely knew how to care for herself, never mind two fussy little supernatural babies. Two crying little boys with eyes that bled black brackish swamp water. Two infants growing faster than she could heal.

Nothing about her family was natural. Herself being a cursed spirit born from those who died hunted in a swamp, possessing and bringing the body of a betrayed woman to life for her own use. The father of her children was one of the cursed offspring born to a human who sold her soul to gain dark powers. All of her family were creatures never meant to exist, creating more demented twisted children to continue their curse riddled line.

Sure the children were born of love, of the momentary peace the two corrupted beings found in each other. But now they had to care for these little helpless infants who constantly cried of hunger and blurred between the world of the living and the undead. Eve wanted nothing but the world for them. Unfortunately to sell her soul to better their lives for them would be to end her being. What is a malevolent swamp spirit, but a twisted concoction of broken souls stitched together. She'd cease to exist.

Their father could have sold his soul, but Eve couldn't bear for him to end up like his mother. His soul was already unstable. It turned out when a woman without a soul has a child, the soul born to the baby didn't quite stick right. In this case, souls. She'd been meant to have twins, but as fetus's do, one absorbed the other. Carne had been consumed by his brother, living in his body like a parasite, trapped until Eve sensed his separate spirit and tore him free, giving him a ghostly form until they found a body for him to possess.

Having been treated like a mental illness his whole life, Carne clung to Eve with all his spirit. Loving everything she'd done for him, loving her for all she was. But love wasn't enough. Not when she was crying in the shower because the babies had drained her strength and still cried for more. When two little boys screamed every hour for food, growing faster than any natural baby. He'd tried to stay, wanting to be loved by his precious Eve, but eventually he left in jealousy of his own children.

Eve knew she couldn't care for the children herself, so she did what she had thought was the right thing.

"I love my babies" Her voice echoed in Sky's memories. Her memories of her mother were few. Blurred from watching through her brothers eyes. Born like her father and uncle, she'd resided within Aldrik for many years. That was all so long ago. Now she was a young woman, living as a normal being in this world her brother had made with the magic his mother sacrificed herself for.

Growing quickly, physically, Aldrik and his brother Jezeb had both learned at an incredible rate. Growing their minds to keep up with their bodies. Being voted the oldest, as the boys didn't know who was truly the first, Aldrik had been protective of his sibling. Taking the abuse of his father, calling his grandmother when things were getting dangerous. His father blamed them for losing Eve, Aldrik couldn't blame him.

Not being able to leave the family home very often, Aldrik and Jezeb played their uncles video games. The two becoming an unstoppable team, hours spent beating scores and grinding levels. When Jezeb disappeared, the games were what Aldrik turned to. But not for comfort. Using the magic his mother had traded her life for, he created a world for himself and his still living sister, trapped within his mind and kept secret from their father. At first it was fake, a game they could live in, but as they grew and his powers became stronger the world grew with them.

He'd used the body of the games hero for his sisters form, supernatural intelligence let him knit her spirit into the unkillable character. Magic and coding were a slurry mixed together to create the appearance she dreamed of herself. She looked so much like a younger version of her mother, it made Aldriks heart hurt at times to look at her. Still, he loved his sister, and swore he wouldn't lose another sibling. His heart couldn't take losing another person he loved.

Living in this unusual world, Sky was surprisingly normal. She hadn't inherited the magic from her mothers trade, but the strength of the hero served her well. Little quirks of the game that she rarely noticed. Small tasks and little quests took her no time at all. Her wounds healed from merely walking. Money appeared in tall grass when she waded through it. Experiencing life for the first time, it was all a wonder to her. Exploring the world made her happy, which in turn made Aldrik happy.

Never able to see his grandmother anymore, and certain his father had made his brother disappear for good before he too disappeared for the final time, Aldrik settled into this new life. Things were peaceful. He made a modest cottage for them, used his magic to create a huge farm for Sky to care for with her "heroes" gardening ability. (The hero in this game had been capable of completing such tasks as quests, and thus Sky could handle it all with ease.) He set up a barn for her, and she filled it with stray cats.

He began collecting magical artifacts to keep the game from using them against himself or his sister. Started collecting books to line the empty shelves in their bedroom. It was when those books went from having one sentence blurbs to containing full pages of information, that he began to notice this world becoming its own.

The first time this became a problem, the two still physically looked like children. Sky was aging slowly, the hero had been a child, so Aldrik matched her aging. Sky had noticed that the path into the forest now led to a town, and in excitement she set off to explore it. Other children were excited to meet this new elven kid, with her perfect blonde wavy hair and bright violet eyes that looked at everything with such excitement.

Sky visited the town frequently for a week before the adults who lived there became curious of her family. Wanting to share the town with her brother, and show her brother to her friends, she brought him along with her one day. After all, the townsfolk were encouraging her to bring her family along. Surely they'd love to meet him!

The town erupted in violence, pitchforks and shovels raised as weapons. Aldrik stood in front of his sister to protect her, but it was him they wanted to kill.

"Demon!"

"Monster!"

"Evil spirit!"

While Sky looked like the perfect healthy hero-worthy character, Aldrik was riddled with the physical appearances of the family curses. His eyes solid black, always bleeding the brackish black sludge. Skin pale from staying inside the cottage studying the growth of this world. His hair was all black, shaggy and straight like his fathers. Always messy and never tamed with a comb. It didn't help that he wore black robes, but the black caught the warmth of the sun when he did go outside, and pants were so uncomfortable. Besides, he thought he looked like a little sorcerer! Apparently he looked like an evil mage, despite being a child.

The townsfolk tried to separate them, but Sky fought free and Aldrik blasted people away with harmless bursts of magic. Escaping to their cottage, both were terrified. It wasn't long until there were people outside their home, yelling that the demon had entranced the girl. He had to protect her, and thus the barrier came to be. Blossoming out from the house and forcing those with malicious and harmful intents away from their home. Keeping the townsfolk out of their farm as well.

"I love them. I love my babies." Sky sighed softly and watched the aurora like rippling of the barrier against the night sky.

"Aldrik, do you ever regret what mom did?"

Aldrik looked to her in surprise, sitting up on the grass to stare down at her laying form. He tilted his head quizzically, expecting her to elaborate.

"Do you ever wish mom was still alive? That you still had Jezeb, and still lived in the first world?"

He was stunned, blinking down at her, before he laid back down and smiled. His hand found hers, and he squeezed it reassuringly.

"I just wish I could have met her." Sky sighed softly. Nodding in the darkness, Aldrik pretended to brush his hair out of his face, wiping a bloody brackish tea from his face. He wished she could have met their mom too.

[a-froger-epic]

Man, I really love how many discussions chapter 72 brought about. It's been fascinating!

A few highlights that were particularly interesting as I replied to comments and pondered that messy situation with some writer friends.

Is Roger mirroring his father's behaviour?

Oh, absolutely. To a degree. With the backstory I've given him in DoA, I always have his father in mind and his "anger issues", if you will, stem directly from growing up with a man who not only couldn't control his anger but refused to, going so far as to use it as a tool of control over others. The latter is not something Roger does. But he does default to hurtful-angry and aggressive-angry easily, while Freddie can be hurtful-angry but mostly gets sad-angry. You could argue throwing the bottle was aggressive, but I think it was more of an act of desperation. It's interesting to note that Roger removes himself from the situation the moment things start to get a bit physical, which is certainly not something his father ever did. So while his father would run out too, it would be after he's done causing damage and feels as though he's "won" while Roger left before more damage could be caused.

That thing he said about the fairies.

Arguably the most hurtful thing Roger ends up saying is the reference to My Fairy King and Ibex. And that, in itself, is a whole mess. On the surface, it sounds a lot like: "You can't even show your stupid camp af song to your band because they'd laugh you out of the room, you raging homosexual."

Yeah, it's really awful, and without a shadow of doubt, that's unfortunately pretty much exactly what Freddie heard. Which is crushing, coming from Roger of all people.

But in a twist of dark irony, all of Roger's comments about Ibex, including this one, come from almost the opposite place. Rather than wanting to belittle Freddie, what he'd actually like to say is: "Holy shit, do you not realise that they don't understand or appreciate you? You're not happy with them and you can't be yourself with them, you can't even show them that brilliant song you were so excited about. They'd make fun of you, and I hate that. Was this really worth leaving London (and me) for?"

That's what lies beneath those jabs, at the core of it, not even consciously in that moment. But there's absolutely no way Freddie could realise that.

Wtf is Freddie's deal, for real now?

To some of you Freddie's behaviour made perfect sense, to others not so much. I thought it might be worth explaining because it is a whole can of worms.

Freddie broke up with Roger. He did. Why? There were actually three reasons behind that. Firstly, the incident with the neighbours and the police was the final straw for him in the sense that he'd then stopped believing there was any hope for them to stay together and for it not to end badly/dangerously for one or both of them. So, a colossal amount of fear/hopelessness. Secondly, Freddie couldn't imagine sacrificing an opportunity to do what he wants to do in order to stay with Roger, he would have never forgiven himself. He is extremely ambitious. And lastly, he is an intriguing mix of ungovernable and dependant. He wants to need no one but ultimately desperately needs to be loved and reassured, and he becomes quite consumed by relationships. This is all very sub-conscious, but it bothers him to think that being with Roger may be distracting him from his goals in life. The fear of being vulnerable/weak also plays into it.

Now, when he did leave, he almost immediately realised that he couldn't actually part with his need to be loved so easily. He's been unable to let go (he's not alone in that, although he now thinks he is) which has led him to thinking about ways how he might get his happily ever after in some form. Like fantasising that somehow his and Roger's relationship will continue in utmost secret as they carry on living their lives.

But then, when he sees Roger with Jo, it dawns on him that Roger can have that romantic happily ever after with someone he is allowed to have it with. A woman. And Freddie cannot. He knows it even though he's still far from accepting it. So that is when he comes to the conclusion that Roger can't love him the way Freddie loves Roger, because Roger can choose to love who he should love. It's not a very rational thought process, but there you go. And all of Freddie's romantic fantasies of a possible bitter-sweet future evaporate. He's nowhere near coping with that loss when he arrives at Brian's House.

Who's the arsehole?

They both are, if you ask me.

Freddie quietly decided that he and Roger have some kind of future still ahead of them, without ever telling Roger, but expects him to be on exactly the same page and is deeply upset with Roger when he thinks that Roger isn't. He's also dead wrong, because Roger is still just as hung up on him. But instead of talking to him and finding that out, Freddie creates his own reality entirely in his head, in which Roger never really loved him at all. And proceeds to treat him with the resentment that goes with that belief.

Roger is deeply hurt by Freddie seemingly icing him out like that out of the blue, and doubly frustrated because he doesn't know what's going on at all. But instead of pulling Freddie aside to have a private chat and ask him what the hell is going on, he stews in it for a bit and then decides to remember all of Freddie's faults and use that opportunity to just let it all rip.

Overall, I think Roger's actions are somewhat more justified than Freddie's (or are they? Read the discussion in the comments...) although that doesn't excuse him. Whereas Freddie is being quite irrational and it is without a doubt he who provokes the whole situation.

But that's all just my opinion. What do I know? 😉 You're the readers and so the story is as much yours as it is mine. Everyone's interpretations are valid.

Thank you for all the comments and engagement on this! It's been an absolute pleasure to take apart.

[24hourdinerandotherhorrorstories]

The Letter Forever Remembered

Dear (name is smudged out),

My story is an odd one. Most would even consider me the bad guy along with my family in my story. However, at the end of the day I'm so happy with my family and with the love of my many lives. Yes, you read that right, I have lived many lives with the same memories and the same needs as the one before. Always hopping into some sad little child corpse and taking it over. Never quite mentally growing, always flipping between childlike and forcing myself to be an adult without understanding what it really meant to be an adult. It never got easier and it's not something you can just get used to especially when your mind is mostly feral from isolation. My mind was broken after so many jumps between bodies and people rarely take in children that are damaged. Sometimes my adopted parents were human and feared me to a certain extent but many times after they were not and didn't fear me enough. However, they found me, the dark followers, they saw what I was and gave me a proper caregiver. I called her Mother, for she was the only one I ever considered true family.

Most humans around her couldn't understand why she would adopt and foster damaged children when she could have her own. But she always looked at us with happiness and pride. She told them we were children of her soul and called to her like no other, how could she deny that call? People would go quiet after that, mostly at how intense she was about us. She was patient with her broken children and we saw her as a divine being finally delivering us the peace we so desperately craved. We as her children could never quite figure out if she was human or something more, much like the dark followers that visited our home while we grew up. Growing up in such a dark home had it's terrifying moments. Even for one such as I, who had seen so much, was scare of some of the things I saw. I do not know how to begin this part of my story but I will try.

The one moment, the one special thing that always pushed me to live through all these horrible lives was her. I met her in my third...or was it fifth life and she was my everything. She was my soulmate, my twin flame, my sanity and the sweet love of my lives. Every life I met her, I would able to breath again. It was both a blessing so grand it brought me to tears but a curse so foul that physical torture would be better than the pain of seeing her die. She always dies before me in some horrific fashion. I would see the life leave her eyes as she told me she would find me again. She always did, no matter how much I hid, she would instantly grab me in a hug and happily say "where have you been hiding" before kissing me like she couldn't get enough of me. She never blamed me for her deaths, I sometimes wished she did. We both know our relationship was cursed to fall before her 30th year. Someone or something would tempt a friend or sibling into a jealous rage and they would kill her. It was just how it was, no matter how much we protected ourselves, she always died as blood would cover the ground while I wailed into an unseeing void. So it was a painful surprise when mom came in one day, with my love gripping her hand tightly. She looked so small then in her child body but her eyes shown with dark humor at her situation before she tackled me to the floor. Only words leaving her as we hugged were "going through puberty again and remembering, is going to suck".

Things were great at first. We did everything together and slowly relearned our love for each other from friendship to a romantic relationship. We got into a lot of mischief which led us into many punishments and awkward situations. Mother grin at every moment of it and was happy for us. I couldn't have loved my mother more in those moments. But something started hovering over us when we turn 21. Mother started getting more protective of us and my siblings. Mother's eldest children were always seen coming and going rapidly through the week. Some of her eldest children seemed to grow more and more vicious as they stole money from the house. The dark followers would yank them away from us when we would work outside in the garden, speaking in harsh voices as they went into the house. Mother's face was constantly forced into a frown as her eyes showed deep sadness and disappointment. It was odd to my slightly fractured mind how mother could raise such horrid people. But my soulmate always told me "you can't blame everything on the parent for how their child turns out, sometimes things are just outside of the parents control."

When we turned 30, my soulmate was brutally tortured and murder by some of Mother's eldest children. The pain of feeling her life slip away all over again was excruciating because she thought this was going to finally be our happy ending. She strokes my cheek as she choked on her blood, her body was carved up in symbols. The carvings were so deep that I could spot her bones underneath, not that she had much weight on her in that moment. Something in me broke completely at seeing her that way. I'm not proud of what I did but damn did i enjoy it. The dark followers and Mother brought them to me, passed out and threw them at my feet. I looked up in surprise mostly because these were her children. Mother gave me a dark look full of hatred as she said they weren't her children but they are your blessings. I didn't understand completely what she meant but I also didn't care.... I enjoyed smashing their heads under my foot, I enjoyed ripping each and every bone from their screaming bodies before looking into their eyes as they breath their last breath. I painted the walls in there blood as Mother watched with a sad smile. I destroyed them through the night as I couldn't be bother to shift back to my human form. At this point I was just a feral beast mourning their soulmate. I passed out as the sun greeted the day, in a pile of bodies and broken furniture.

I didn't talk for years after that day. I hid away with Mother, only working around the house but remaining unseen. I couldn't look my siblings in the eyes after everything even if they understood. They gave me the space I needed but always left me gifts or snack with little notes attached about how they were doing and how much they loved me. I cried so much those years, I couldn't even pull my self out of my isolation to greet my nieces and nephews. Everyday it took longer and longer to change into my human form and even harder to hold together. This time it felt like I lost far more than I ever imagined.

When I was 40, Mother said it was time to finally get my blessings. I still didn't know what she meant so I just shook my head and curls up in my bed and wrapped my wings around me. Mother wouldn't take no for an answer and lifted me out of my bed. I panicked because Mother was never forceful with me even after everything. I couldn't stop the panic attack that invade my mind and didn't hear my mother trying her hardest to calm me while I screamed then everything went black. I awoke in a soft bed with silk sheets, clothes set out to be worn and robes hanging behind the door. Mother was sitting in the chair near the bed I was in, her eyes were closed but she was not resting. I whimpered because I thought I was finally being punished for everything that happened but Mother just pulled me to my feet, told me to get cleaned up and dressed. I obediently did as I was told and even made sure to groom my damaged wings. Wings that I had to grow back after in a moment of weakness and too many bottles of the strongest alcohol I could find.

She put a blindfold over my eyes and held my furred hand as she led me around. I had no clue where I was or who was there, the scents were so new that it felt like the place popped up overnight. When we came to a stop, I tensed at the one familiar scent. I started crying, sobbing at what mother was doing to me. I couldn't understand why she was punishing me this way before gently hands removed my blindfold. I gave a shaky gasp at the sight before me. It was a my beautiful ethereal soulmate, the love of my many lives, right there in the flesh, with tears of happiness in her eyes. Her eyes are what threw me off, they were a misty green color which was a contrast to her deep brown almost black eyes of before. I flinched at the voice that spoke to everyone in the room. My soulmate held me close as the being spoke. The being was named by the dark followers as The Guardian. I thought it was a myth of some crazed but loving cult. I was terrifyingly wrong, this creature was all consume like the void given form. They spoke about my pain and how my family step in to bring me peace. They told me the woman at my side was my soulmate brought back from death through a union of souls. The union was so deep that no matter the situation neither will pass on until they chose to and that they will never feel the pain of heartbreak ever again. I though I would pass out at the amount of information being thrown at me by the being holding my future. I shakily asked what the catch was and they grinned back along with the woman and teen at their side. The smiles should have been horrifying but all I could do was calm down and give a small smile back.

After the events of that day and getting my love back, things have been great. I still have a lot of setbacks but The Guardian and Mother found me a great therapist who also happened to be the same breed of creature I am! I'm still growing as a person in many ways even if I feel older than the trees in my front yard. The pain still comes back from time to time but my family takes care of me well and I'm really and genuinely happy for once in a long time. I guess this is my first and last letter to you but I just wanted to thank you for stepping in when you did and bringing me to Mother so many decades ago. I know you paid a price to force me into this life as a way to give me happiness. I hope to one day see you again my very first father and I love you even if I do not know you.

Sincerely your beloved daughter,

Akasha Dawnshard

[newbeginningsworld]

Alive

For the longest time I've been unhappy with who I am.. just unhappy in general.

For the longest time, I've lived with this thing that's always been hard to explain..

My depression.

My anxiety.

The feeling of worthlessness.

I remember when it began.

It started when my father left when I was only 3 years old. He was in and out of my life until I was 10. It was then, at ten years old, when I decided he needed to stay out of my life for good.

He left me to grow up wondering if I actually really mattered.

He left me to grow up never being able to trust a man to stay. Never able to trust that anyone would stay.

He left me to believe that at the end of the day everyone would end up leaving me..just like he did.

As just a young child, I went through years of therapy, but it never really helped.

Talking to a stranger about what was going on in my ten year old mind did not help one bit.

The depression.

It only worsened during my sophomore year of high school.

I was lost.

My grades were slipping. I couldn't be on my lacrosse team anymore because of the results in my classes. My friends were going their own way, figuring out where they belong.

I, on the other hand, was alone.

I was alone with just my thoughts. The voices in my head were telling me I was unimportant; worthless. That I had nobody by my side. That I would continue to fail.

I was at war with my own mind.

I abused myself.

I neglected myself.

For years, I would look in the mirror and see nothing and felt nothing but hate.

I began to believe I had no purpose.

I had given up on life.

There was no point anymore.

I remember the exact moment when I completely gave up.

I was sitting in the corner of a running shower, tears flooding down my face, a razor blade in my hand.

That was the moment I attempted to take my own life.

I remember piercing my own skin, watching the blood run down my arm.

Instead of feeling pain, I felt relief.

All the pain. All of the sadness. All of the loneliness. All of the fear of failure. It was all about to end.

I would finally be set free from the prison cell of a body that I was trapped in.

But it wasn't enough.

I failed to take my own life.

And deep down, I was grateful that I didn't.

My physical wounds would heal, but leave scars as a reminder.

I remember the look on my mom's face when I told her what I had done.

The expressions of shock. The expressions of sadness and disappointment.

I had made her believe that this was her fault.

It wasn't.

It was the voices in my head. My depression.

I started going back to therapy.

Again, it didn't help.

Even though it was always going to be lurking behind me, I learned to keep it at bay.

And that was going to have to be okay for now.

Two years later, I graduated high school.

I persevered and overcame all of the obstacles and challenges.

Graduating means I survived.

The next two and a half years, I took time off.

Applying for job after job, just to get by.

I was trying to find myself, find my purpose in life.

But I still felt so lost. With no meaning.

Some days were better than others. Some days were worse.

Most days I lived in a state of pure agony and fear. My bad days usually involved me locked in my room completely numb to everything. Other times it involved voices, which sometimes became aggressive. At times, it made me believe things that aren't real. That don't exist. It made me feel things that aren't real, including physical pain. It made me relive the worst moments over and over and over again with no escape. At times it was terrifying and draining.

But I hid it. I shoved my feelings aside. As I always did out of the fear of judgment and being misunderstood.

I had come to terms that this was just apart of me and there was no fixing it.

Along the way, I found someone.

Someone who made me feel happiness. The happiness I couldn't yet give myself. Someone who put my mind at ease. Someone who was not only my love, but my best friend. Someone who taught me how to smile again. How to laugh. That I could be who I was and he would still love me. He made me feel okay, even when certain things weren't okay. In the beginning, he showed me the most beautiful love.

I thought I had found the one. My soulmate. The person who I could see a future with. The person who I could build a life with.

Then suddenly we were a world apart. But I promised I'd always wait for him and he promised to do the same.

Two months later, everything changed. Things were different between us. He had become cold, angry, and distant. At times, even ignoring me, pushing me away, and forgetting plans we made. I just wasn't a priority in his life anymore. I felt like I was walking on eggshells. Worried anything would set off his anger. I spent months lying awake at night, doubting myself. Wondering where I went wrong, if I was good enough, what I could do better. Trying to change who I was to better fit his liking.

Throughout all of it..I lost myself.

I have no idea who that girl was. I was so consumed in my relationship and trying to make it work, I couldn't recognize myself. If I would have listened to my friends and let go, maybe things would have been different. Maybe I wouldn't have lost friends. Maybe I wouldn't have lost myself. Maybe I wouldn't have been living through my boyfriend.

But I continued to fight for my relationship..to try to make it better than it was. Even though deep down, I knew it would never change.

He continued to push me away. He closed himself up. He would even cut off in the middle of a conversation and just disappear. He had given up on trying to fix things. He had given up on us.

I felt alone in this relationship.

It was then I had come to realize that all the words that were said were just words. All of the promises made were all lies. I found out I was not the only girl in his life, or at least he didn't want me to be. For months, he would have moments of extreme jealousy. He would see guys complimenting me and accuse me of liking it more than I should. He would accuse me of cheating and make me feel belittled.

When in reality he was the one who was cheating.

The plans of our future, the words of love, they all came crashing down. They were all replaced with the feeling of pain, betrayal, anger, and sadness. It hurt like hell. This feeling of pain and betrayal sits in the very core of my being. Its like a rotting corpse of our future together that was brutally murdered by his actions. Its foul. It's a stench I have no words for. I can not recognize the person I once had so much love for. Who I poured my heart out to and would have given everything to. He was a stranger.

I had let him in. He broke down all of the walls I had built to protect myself. I let him see all the parts of me, even the dark parts of me. I trusted him with my heart, just for him to walk all over it and treat like everything we had been through was..nothing.

I am the one who is going to have to live with this. Knowing the one person I trusted completely and fully not only betrayed me, but forever destroyed the trust I will place in others. How am I ever supposed to believe in anyone again? I won't be able to. Not fully.

I finally gathered up the courage to end it. To leave this one sided relationship. This toxic relationship. I realize now that at the end I was only holding on to this relationship because I was afraid of being alone. But sometimes being alone is exactly what you need.

So that you can finally see everything clearly.

I had been blinded by love, that I didn't see it for what it truly was. I know now that I'm better off. That I deserve better.

Even though I lost my relationship and a best friend,

I gained something so much better.

Me.

My entire life, I have been trying to fill this void, but nothing ever seemed to stick.

There was always something missing.

I know now,

That missing piece I had always been looking for

was Me.

I needed to find myself again.

To learn to love myself.

I had gone down a self destructive path.

I had not only lost myself, but I lost faith.

But now, I'm ready.

I'm ready to dedicate my life to something better.

I am ready find my faith again. I am ready to surrender all of my fears and worries. I am ready to go down the path that has always been meant for me.

I am finally going down a path where I can see light instead of darkness.

I'm finally on a path to getting better.

I'm finally on a path to learning to love myself.

I'm learning to not let my depression, my thoughts and my feelings consume me.

I am learning to forgive and let go of all that pain and toxicity.

I am learning to finally be in control of my own body and my own mind.

I am learning its also okay to feel emotions. It's okay to be sad. It's okay to not be okay. I know now that I am stronger than the struggles I face. I know I am strong enough to get through anything. There is a reason for everything. My struggles made me stronger and made me the person I am today.

I am learning that things will not always turn out how you planned. And it's okay if they don't.

It's okay if I lose people; if I lose friends. Sometimes it's for the best. I am learning to let go of the toxic people and I know now that I deserve better. I deserve to be made a priority; to be put first for once.

It's okay not to get the perfect score on every exam. Nobody is perfect.

I am learning not to compare myself to others. I was made the way I am for a reason. I am me and that is enough.

I am learning I do not have wear make up everyday. I do not have to play a part. I am beautiful the way I am.

I am learning that we only have one life and I am no longer going to take that for granted.

You only live once, so I'm going to eat that piece of pizza. Or the entire pizza. I earned that pizza.

I'm going to sing my favorite song at the top of my lungs, as if nobody is listening, even if they are.

I'm going to see more movies, even it's by myself.

I'm to make my dreams a reality. I'm going to study hard, graduate and become a Vet Tech.

I'm going travel.

Go on more walks and enjoy the world around me; because sometimes it can actually be beautiful.

Love unconditionally and be loved unconditionally.

I am going to actually live.

I am learning that I DO deserve to be happy. For me and nobody else. I am learning that I AM important. I am ENOUGH. I do MATTER. My happiness matters. My mental health matters.

Life is too short to be anything, BUT happy. Smile & take a deep breathe because everything we are facing is temporary.

After everything, I have finally found my purpose in life. I am finally moving forward.

I can finally see a future that I am in.

The weight on my chest.

It is lifted and I can finally breathe easy.

I overcame

I conquered

I survived.

I am ALIVE and I finally want to be!

[rubyvroom]

with his hindsight of having brought someone as consumed by evil deeds like Darth Vader back to the light. Does it really make sense that he would not think he could do the same for his nephew? This is the issue most people have. Its not that people can't change but given Luke's experiences, that scene makes no sense except that Rian couldn't think of any other reason to try and shift blame away from Kylo.

I think it makes sense, actually. Forget Rian Johnson for a minute and think about the time that has elapsed since the original trilogy. Bear in mind that I’m not in the fandom and have no desire to be, this is just my uninfluenced read. 

Anyway, take it back to just after ROTJ. Luke watched the Empire slaughter literally millions of people. He watched the Galaxy rebuild from this for decades. His sister’s home planet was destroyed and he probably dealt with her grief over that. His father’s shadow has lingered over the entire galaxy for years and years. A certain subset of people are lionizing his evil deeds and talking about bringing back the empire. They want to literally undo everything Luke and the Rebels originally did and make all of those deaths meaningless. 

When you get older, here’s a couple things that happen. You start thinking about the choices you made when you were young. You start really feeling the losses you have witnessed in your life and wondering if they could have been prevented. You think a lot less about individual heroics and more about how to plan for the future and protect as many people as possible (a big theme of TLJ overall). The purpose of the original rebellion was not to save Darth Vader, it was to overthrow the evil Empire. Yes, Luke made it a personal mission to save his father. He did save him, in the end. But what did that do for all the dead people? What did that do to prevent the empire from coming back? Apparently nothing, because it’s all happening again. Was one soul really worth the death of millions? Even your father’s? Even your own?

Now Luke’s been tasked as the sole custodian of the entire Jedi legacy and surely one of his main goals is to keep these young students from turning to the dark side of the force. And here’s his nephew worshipping Darth Vader. Asking all these questions about him and the empire and was-it-really-so-bad and yada yada. All the while growing immensely powerful and showing every evidence of actually wanting to bring back Vader’s genociding ways. He’s not just an average kid who reads about serial killers or whatever. He’s Darth Vader’s grandson with means, motive, and opportunity. 

We don’t get a lot of specific details about what Ben was doing that alarmed Luke so much, or how long Luke tried to work with him before things came to this point (it could have been years for all we know) but my read is that this is basically a Hitler As A Baby premise. Luke has the opportunity to potentially prevent many, many deaths by stopping an extremely powerful Sith from joining a bunch of Empire wanna-bes. If someone had killed Anakin before he became Darth Vader, how many lives might have been saved? And if Ben Solo went on to kill even one person, isn’t that a death Luke might have prevented, that he would blame himself for if he sat back and did nothing? Now think of the number of people we watched Kylo Ren kill in the movies alone, including his own father. Just hold that in your mind while you think this out.

Whether it’s the right or wrong decision to kill Ben Solo at that point, do I believe that Luke Skywalker would be tempted? Absolutely. To prevent more deaths, to prevent Ben going the way that Anakin did, to stop the Jedi ways from being used as a force for evil in the universe again, he was tempted. It makes sense to me that he would be tempted to do it after what he saw became of his father. You can even think of it as his own Dark Side temptation moment, depending on how you think of the Force and the whole Light/Dark thing.

But Luke passed the temptation. He didn’t do it. He was ashamed of the impulse and if Ben hadn’t woken up and seen him he would have gone on trying to teach the kid and turn him to the light.

(This is why Luke later wants to end the Jedi altogether - because people with access to that kind of power will be tempted to misuse it, the Jedi training doesn’t effectively train people not to misuse that power and if preventative murder is not an option (and it really shouldn’t be) then maybe the Jedi way is not the best way to use the Force.) ****

Now, did Ben Solo pass that same temptation moment? At the same turning point? Because he is totally justified in feeling betrayed there, and would even have been justified in killing Luke in self-defense. But he did a lot more than that. He slaughtered all the other innocent students, burned down the temple, and went on to join the Space Nazis. So fuck him. Luke didn’t force Ben Solo to become Kylo Ren. “Fuck it, I’m gonna be evil” is not not something he can blame on Luke. Every single thing he did from there on out is on him, and he proved to be an evil little shit.

This gets reinforced when we get another turning point for Kylo Ren in the throne room. He could have done a Vader there. The movie fakes us out that this is what he’s doing. He kills the emperor/Snoke and it looks like he’s doing it to save Luke/Rey. This is where the movie could have gone, oh, he just needed somebody to BELIEVE in him because he’s just MISUNDERSTOOD and that will turn him good! But the movie doesn’t do that. He doesn’t then embrace the light. He does the opposite. Vader didn’t try to convince Luke to turn Dark Side and take up the Emperor’s throne and keep going. And Kylo didn’t kill Snoke to save Rey. He wants the throne himself, and he can use Rey’s power to keep it. He tells Rey to rule the galaxy with him as fascist overlords and goes about trying to murder absolutely everyone, including Rey, for the rest of the movie. And Rey thoroughly rejects him, turns her back on him, and shuts the door on him. It’s done. He’s not redeemable, he doesn’t want to be redeemed, he blames his mistakes on everyone else and wants to go on endlessly revenging himself on innocent people because he’s sad or something. He’s a monster. A pathetic monster. He doesn’t get any more heroic shots or moments after that because it’s been proved he doesn’t deserve them. 

I guess where I part ways with your interpretation the most is that I don’t think this movie favors Kylo Ren at all. Rey in the Throne Room scene is doing exactly what Luke originally did - but this time it doesn’t work. And Old!Luke knew that would happen because of the hindsight of his years and because he saw Kylo fail at the Jedi temple. All of the lives and bloodshed he has caused are his own doing, and he needs to be stopped, not saved. If anything, the movie repudiates what Luke originally did, which is what people are *really* mad about, I think, even if they don’t exactly know it. The actual question that nobody’s asking yet is whether Darth Vader was worth saving in the original trilogy if it endangered the rebellion to do it. Much more interesting question imo.

But anyway - to your last point about shifting blame, Luke also gets the last word on this in the movie. Face to face with Kylo Ren, Luke explicitly apologizes for the mistake he made - the moment he was tempted to kill Ben Solo before he had actually done anything evil. That is always treated as a tragic mistake. But he also says, explicitly, that he is not trying to save Kylo Ren, and he rightly does not blame himself for the evil things Kylo has done. The movie ends on this beat, that every single evil choice Kylo made was his own doing, and he needs to be stopped, not saved. Then he doesn’t physically beat Kylo Ren in a lightsaber battle, he uses his Force powers in a way Kylo never imagined doing and could not detect to distract him long enough for the rebels to get away, and also, to humiliate Kylo Ren in front of the entire First Order. He proved he was an immensely more powerful Jedi with greater control over his emotions who doesn’t even have to kill or even physically face his enemy to defeat him. He says he knows Rey will carry on the Jedi legacy and she is stronger than Kylo Ren. The next generation of heroes – Finn, Poe, Rose, and Rey – will use the lessons of the previous generation to defeat the first Order. 

The next movie’s almost pointless after this except we get the pleasure of watching that play out. 

… I did not intend to write so much about The Last Jedi and I think I’ll stop there. I hope that at least explains how someone could plausibly read the opposite intentions out of that scene, when taking the movie as a whole. As an aside, I was also upset when that plot point was raised until I saw how it played out later in the movie, which made me feel differently. The movie doesn’t excuse Kylo or have Rey redeem him with her goodness or whatever like I was afraid it would, it does the opposite. And in the end I thought it humanized Luke a lot for me, although I certainly understand how making him more flawed would upset some fans of the character. But I don’t think it’s an impossible character progression at all.  

**** this little bit is another thing they did in the movie that I loved - Luke’s explanation of the Force implies that maybe it could be open for anyone to use, and the Jedi way of limiting its use to select special people is wrong. This interpretation is supported by the revelation that Rey isn’t descended from Jedis, as well as the little boy at the end of the movie. There isn’t a secret special bloodline that makes the superest force users, maybe this was all a Jedi construct to keep a monopoly on use of the Force as a Jedi thing. Maybe they’re the DeBeers cartel of this universe. This interpretation probably violates fandom lore of some kind and let me reemphasize that I do not care about that at all.