#it had completely fallen apart from decades of love

[omarandjohnny]

For @rainbowcolored7 : My nearly 20 year old Brokeback tattoos-

forearm: the horseshoe piece, with a heart-shaped lock and 2 heart shaped keys on either side of the shoe (a nod to the 'tumblers' quote), with 'Little Darlin' below the shoe, and 'i know you by heart' inside it. (in the wayback times, I was active on the IMDB boards, and a wonderfully kind older fella and I traded what our dream OSTs for the movie would be- he even mailed me a cassette of his playlist and Eva Cassidy's song was on it, so this was my personal 'thank you' to that long ago friend with excellent taste)

lower forearm: 'like faint electricity' from the dozing 'round the campfire bit in the book

(and the simple 'brokeback' on my wrist, natch)

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟱: 𝗹𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅 & 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. vaginal sex. lingerie. marriage. unsafe sex. no pull-out. tender sex. slow and sensual. cockwarming. intimacy. no beta we get disqualified like lewis and charles. not dirty? husband/wife kink (if that’s a thing). more soft. sickeningly sweet (ig). 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lewis hamilton x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: icu • coco jones

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: needed something to soothe the soul after the austin gp disqualifications. this is at the same time the least kinky thing i’ve written so far and the most kinky thing ever. because love feels filthier to write, idk if that makes sense. it’s on the shorter side because i ditched the preamble in order to finish this in time lol, but i dedicate this to my twin @saintwrld :) (it reminds me of her renaissance series :p y'all should check it out @saintslewis) and i hope everyone enjoys it !!!!

do you want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!

cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

lewis sighs tiredly as he lies down in bed next to you. the mercedes driver turns on his side facing you, and laughs quietly. your bonnet, of course, has grown a pair of legs and climbed its way off your head and is sleeping on the pillow next to you—your braids fanned out on the pillow underneath you unprotected. lewis carefully wrangles the bonnet back on you and smiles adoringly when he notices that you're wearing the matching bonnet he got you almost nine years ago. and to feel how the matching bonnets makes his heart stutter after spending a decade of his life with you, two of those years being married; he knows being married to you is one of the best decisions he’s ever made. 

he tugs you, his wife, closer; cooing out loud when he notices that you’re clad in one of his tommy hilfiger hoodies, tucking your head under his chin, arms wrapping around you tightly, and legs intertwining comfortably. you hum against his chest, nuzzling deeper into his bare skin, and a faint smile lingers on your lips, and unconscious reaction to having your husband home again. lewis throws his head back groaning, he can’t wake you up now. you had spammed his phone with texts before his flight, promising that he’d get a “surprise” when he got home, for doing so well this weekend—and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up just so he can fuck you. well, he thinks, he can just get a couple hours of sleep in and then he’ll wake you up and enjoy whatever gift you’ve decided to bless him with and he drifts into sleep.

when lewis wakes up again, the first thing he notices is that he’s slept for way more than a couple hours. the noon sun has brightened the room immensely, and he’s shocked that he managed to stay asleep for so long with how the sun is shining directly on his face. he shifts onto his back, groaning at the soreness left from racing, and glances down at you to see if your still sleeping, and chokes on his breath. his hoodie is rucked up your waist from sleep, exposing your black lace panties, and when he shifts to get a better view of your ass, his body jostles yours and reveals the silver shift of glitter in the fabric. 

“fuck,” lewis murmurs, he’s always been weak for you dressing in his team colors. one of his tattooed hands takes a generous squeeze of your ass, and he wonders if you're wearing the matching top. his grip on your ass may have become a smidge too tight at that thought, because you softly gasp awake. lewis watches as you squirm against him softly, face twisted in confusion, before you make eye contact with him, and you relax. 

you smile sweetly, your left hand rising to rest on his cheek, “welcome home, champ.” lewis laughs at your half-asleep tone, nuzzling his face into your hand, before turning to press a kiss at the ring he put on your finger. “it was only a second-place finisher, love. no need to call me ‘champ.’”

frowning at him, you scoff, “you are still a seven-time world champion, are you not?” lewis concedes to your point; he’s not interested in being scolded by you today—he’s more concerned with unwrapping the present you got him. he hums and noses at your chin before he captures your lips in a dizzying kiss. your lips are languid against each other, there’s no rush in rediscovering the crevices within your mouths. lewis ignores how your teeth tug at his bottom lip, urging him to speed up—he only deepens the kiss, not quickening his pace, coercing you to melt under his passion. 

he pulls away, enjoying how your gaze has transformed from sleep-hazy to lust-hazy. “mmm, is my ‘surprise’ the panties and matching bra you have under my hoodie?” lewis asks you. you nod your head gently, scooting back and pulling the hoodie up to reveal the matching silver-glitter covered black bralette. he moans at the sight of you; perky breasts and nipples hard underneath the lace, your eyes half-lidded in arousal. his hands reach out to grasp at your chest, thumbs dragging over your nipples, causing a shaky moan to fall from your lips at the friction. you reach to pull the hoodie off but lewis grunts in dissent, “nah, keep it on for me. just make sure it stays up, love.”

“ohmygod,” you giggle quietly, “you can just say you’re obsessed with fucking me in your clothes.”

lewis rolls his eyes at you, “okay: i’m obsessed with fucking you in my clothes. i love the way you smell like me after, i love the way your smell lingers when i wear them after you, i love the way you look in my clothes; if i could choose, i wish you’d only ever wear my clothes and have pretty lingerie underneath them all the time.”

you stare at him wide-eyed, not expecting him to flip your teasing words in that manner, maybe that’s why your panties suddenly feel a little wet. you bite your lip, trying to think of a way to regain the upper hand, and lewis clocks your eyes brightening.

“i fingered myself open for you last night. i’m sure you could still slip in, if you’re up for it.”

lewis chuckles, half-crazed, and murmurs, “if i’m up for it? promise me, if i ever say no to having sex with you that you’ll take me to see a doctor?”

you hum, hand shifting to rub at the nape of his neck, “i promise, baby. can you fuck me now—i fell asleep waiting for you last night.”

lewis quickly gets to work positioning your body. he spins you around to your side, your back pressed against his chest, and spreads your thighs open with his knee. you moan at his easy manhandling, and press your ass back to grind against the tent in his boxers. he encourages the movement of your hips, even directing the grind for a few beats before he halts your motions. his hand slips in between the two of you, and tugs his dick out. he pulls your panties to the side and slowly slips into you. your mouth drops open in a silent moan, overwhelmed by the stretch from his dick spreading you open. lewis sighs deeply as he bottoms out within you, and kisses you on the shoulder. he stays still, allowing you the time you need to adjust. you shift your hips gently, testing the feel, and hum in assent.

lewis moves his hand to find yours, and locks them over your navel, using them to pull you as close to his body as he can. he whispers softly, “can we take it nice and slow today? i want to make love to you today.”you hum, and it shifts to a whine as his hips gently rock into yours, and whimper out, “it’s your present—can use it however you want.” 

lewis keeps the motion of hips slow and controlled, pulling out halfway before sinking in as deep as he can reach. it’s stunning how you can feel every bit of love lewis puts into his thrusts, seeping into you. he continues to pepper kisses on your neck and shoulder, and slips his other arm underneath you, and moving your body slowly so you twist back further, exposing your chest to him again. the hoodie remains bunched under your armpits, and lewis tugs the bralette down underneath your chest, causing your breasts to spill out lewdly over the top. his hand rests over your chest, not groping in any manner, just holding you close, feeling how your heartbeat speeds up from his movements.

in the decade you’ve been in a relationship with lewis, you’ve had some life-changing sex. but, for some reason, the slow and sensual sex has to be your favorite. it feels restorative, like he’s breathing life back into your body, with every deep thrust he’s showing you how much he loves you. and he’s not afraid to say it either.

“i love you, so much—you’re so good to me—my wonderful wife—all for me—all mine—i’ll make you feel so good, love—forever, yeah—you and me, like this—i win everything for you—“

you rock back against him, always weak when he can help but run his mouth, and start rambling back to him, mouth loose from the pleasure he continues to give to you, “my oh! my husband—only you for me, yeah?” he moans into your neck, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to you calling him your husband. 

there’s no telling how long the two of you are wrapped together, neither you are in any rush to reach a climax—you both crave the intimacy sex like this provides, especially after he’s been away. your orgasms crest over your bodies slowly but they’re more satisfying than any other release you could get from rough sex. lewis continues to grind his dick in you as deep as he can, not making any motion to pull out, and ignores the building sensitivity he’s feeling. 

lewis smiles at the blissed out look on your face, and watches how you struggle to open your eyes; he’s been fucking you back to sleep this whole time—that would explain why your rambles disappeared as you got closer to your peak. he tugs the hoodie back down over your chest, and one-handedly drags the duvet to cover your bodies, not wanting you to get cold. “hey, love,” he calls softly, “do you want me to pull out and clean you up?” you shake your head, and turn back onto your side fully, pressing you back to his chest again, and you start to doze off. lewis rubs at your waist gently, soothing you further into sleep—he’s never going to say no to having you keep his dick warm. 

lewis carefully reaches towards the nightstand and grabs his phone, and quickly sets an hour alarm. he won’t let himself be fooled by the call of sleep and let the whole day fly by, like he did last night—he’d rather not be awoken by his angry wife screaming about uti’s and whatnot. he’ll just bathe in the afterglow while you sleep soundly; he just wants to look after you a little longer.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr@nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane

© httpsserene 2023

[batneko]

Oops I thought about Mithrun and Senshi too much and now the ship has sailed, sorry, it's cresting the horizon there's no point in even waving anymore.

(Cross-posted from a thread I wrote on bluesky yesterday.)

Mithrun was already fond of Senshi because Senshi is the person who made him feel like he deserved to keep living, so during the first year or so when the new kingdom is still getting settled Mithrun hangs around Senshi whenever they happen to cross paths.

Somebody mentions to Senshi that Mithrun wanted to learn to make noodles, so Senshi thinks that's why and is happy to teach him. Senshi is also trying to make a concentrated effort to unlearn his prejudices, and Mithrun turns out to be easy to talk to. He doesn't mind answering any odd questions Senshi has, or admitting when he doesn't know something. He'll also explain his own motivations (when he understands them himself) so even with Senshi's blunted social skills they can understand each other.

So it just makes sense for them to move in together! Neither of them is going to live in the city full-time, Senshi enjoys cooking for another person when they ARE both home, and they can report back to each other when they've seen particularly dangerous/delicious monsters on their trips. Logic!

Neither of them has a strong sexual/romantic drive so it's a solid decade before they even think to put a label on it. There are small changes here and there over the years though. Senshi learns Mithrun can't sleep without being lulled into it so he always makes him a filling snack and a warm drink. He keeps an eye on Mithrun's health and schedule. He likes doing this kind of thing, it feels good to have someone to take care of.

It's not perfect, of course. Mithrun has trouble expressing what he likes and wants, and since he's usually pretty blunt unless he's being bitchy Senshi has no idea when Mithrun is upset. Senshi can get upset about stuff too, and Mithrun has to learn to do things that seem pointless to him because they make Senshi happier.

(yes this is about doing the dishes)

And then one day while they're eating Senshi gently tucks Mithrun's hair behind his ear because it's gotten a little long and is suddenly overwhelmed with affection and the urge to do... something. He should do something here, right? So he offers to tie it back, but that's harder than expected.

Senshi tracks down Chilchuck to ask him how to do hair, and Chilchuck catches on immediately and is like, "lol, weird, you do you though man, congrats." Senshi is baffled and Chilchuck passes the lesson along to Flertom instead (her hair is most similar to Mithrun's). After that Mithrun heads out on his missions with his hair neatly pulled back and always returns once the braids have completely fallen apart.

Eventually Senshi is able to put a name to his feelings and realize he's felt this way for a WHILE, so he tells Mithrun he loves him. Mithrun says, "It doesn't feel the way it did before, but I care for you, your happiness is important to me. Being parted from you would be deeply unpleasant. I don't know if there's a name for this feeling other than 'love.'" And then reveals he inquired about dwarvish marriage customs EIGHT YEARS AGO and has had the rings in his room this whole time. Senshi, tearfully, accepts.

They have a quiet ceremony that weekend and forget to invite anyone.

Senshi eventually remembers to tell his friends, who are differing levels of surprised. Mithrun sends formal notices to the people who matter back in the elven kingdom and causes a HUGE scandal. He's quietly thrilled about this.

People who assumed Senshi and Mithrun were together this whole time and only mildly surprised they weren't already married: Laios, Falin, Kabru

(Kabru sees Mithrun often and always politely inquires "how are things with Senshi back home?" and Mithrun always says "good." or, rarely, "he's mad at me. 😑")

People who knew they weren't officially together but aren't surprised it turned out this way: Chilchuck, Cithis, Mithrun's brother

(Obrin came to visit once and Mithrun introduced Senshi as "this is Senshi, I like him." and Senshi was like "aw, I like you too! 🥰" and Obrin was just like "......hm!")

People who are absolutely blindsided: Marcille, Pattadol

(Marcille thinks love is supposed to be INTENSE and OVERWHELMING and LIFE-CHANGING and like, it can be but calm down.)

People who literally never wondered about them at all: Izutsumi

(Izutsumi lives with them, as much as she lives with anybody, she just doesn't care. She actually likes Mithrun's cooking better because he will serve her plain noodles without a word and Senshi is devastated by this.)

I'm not sure if they have sex. I think they would at least try it to see if it's for them. It does help Mithrun fall asleep! And I think Senshi would definitely enjoy being able to make Mithrun really come undone.

Not much really changes after they get married, they still have their own rooms, they still live largely separate lives. Except Senshi no longer has to worry about maintaining personal space when spending time with Mithrun. You're allowed to hug and cuddle your husband whenever you want, right? That's part of the whole deal!

Mithrun likes it but only Senshi can tell, at least until Mithrun starts reciprocating. Somebody who doesn't know they're together sees Mithrun wander over and lean on Senshi like an armrest and they're like "uhhhhh is that racist?" and somebody else is like "no no they're just like that."

[loveerran]

Deliverance for the Captives

I recently attended a ward that was different than any other ward I have ever attended before. It was located near a prison and comprised mostly of men who were either currently incarcerated or previously released. They met in a warehouse conference room. Folding chairs were set up in a fan shape, pointed toward a podium. On the week I attended, they were having a testimony meeting. I arrived a bit late and took a chair a friend was saving for me just as the testimonies were beginning.

An LDS testimony meeting can be a real cultural experience. Everyone is welcome. A typical testimony meeting involves members taking turns standing up and delivering whatever words are in their heart to the entire congregation. Testimonies may be a minute long or considerably more. The entire program is completely free form and open to all the unexpected moments such a format suggests. Sometimes testimonies are brief and focused on a witness of Jesus Christ. Other times, they delve into personal experiences or provide the congregation with an impromptu lesson from the speaker. And there are, occasionally, some that are quite memorable and depart from the typical formulas entirely. It’s a uniquely Mormon event, and you really should consider attending one just for the experience (you can sit in back and not participate, and they are typically held on the first Sunday of each month).

In this particular meeting, a man who had spent decades behind bars spoke encouragingly to the others. We also heard the story of a homeless man living in a park and dealing with police issues. The US incarcerates a lot of individuals, and most have significant difficulty finding work and putting their lives together after release. Almost all the speakers were men, though two were women.

The testimony that stood out to me the most came from a wonderful sister who was married to someone who had spent time in prison. She followed up with more wonderful thoughts a bit later as we sat in a lesson together. The two messages touched my heart and have been coming back to me ever since. This is how I have been remembering them:

1. During the testimony meeting, she spoke to the men about living with ‘the jail that is in your head’. She talked about how they carry with them the burden of their own negative self-perceptions and how this holds them back from believing they can heal and re-integrate, holds them back from realizing who they are as children of loving Heavenly Parents and from becoming who they and their families want them to become. She also spoke of how the negative beliefs and judgments of others hurt us and bind us down. Christ came to set the prisoners free. Part of becoming free is realizing that the past does not dictate all that is possible in the future for us. Christ wants to free us from the chains of negative self-perception and the shame and fear we inherit from the world around us when they see us as something other than children of God.

2. In a later class she spoke again. This time she talked about her own situation. How hard it was to have a husband who was in prison. She spoke of a box of expectations, and how she placed in this box all the things that had been part of how her life was supposed to go, and all the accomplishments and milestones she had expected to experience along the way: college, marrying a returned missionary, living happily ever after, and so on. Instead, her box had blown up, just fallen apart in tatters. As she lived through that, she learned that the love of God exists outside of boxes. God works powerfully, even in lives that don’t seem to fit the mold of conventional expectations.

Some people who read this may be offended by the idea of these men attending church. They may want to focus on the fact that these men are criminals who have done bad things and hurt others. They may want to continue ostracizing and isolating them or avoid interacting with and seeing them at all. Those are natural feelings, and I do not expect and am not calling for the victims of these men to forgive or embrace them. However, they are still human beings. They are still children of God. They are still in need of redemption. Christ called on us to minister to those in need, including those in prison – physically or otherwise. Our prophet has encouraged “each of us to reach out to ‘the one’ in our lives who may be feeling lost or alone”. Mercy and the enduring love of Jesus Christ can be difficult topics.

After that meeting, I found myself feeling glad these men had this place to gather, a place to seek healing and fellowship, a place to express their desire to do good and become better, a place to work on their hope for putting off the sins of the past and becoming reborn and redeemed through the atonement of Jesus Christ. I was glad that their families, and those who still love them and want them to heal, could join them there. And I thought about how Jesus might embrace and welcome them if they ever attended His ward, regardless of where it was.

[shavirlight]

IWTV Fic Masterpost

From most to least recent. Make sure to carefully read the tags as well as the warnings for the relevant fics, and proceed at your own discretion. Will be adding to this list as I post more fic <3 You can now also read my Louis/Lestat oneshots in chronological order.

🔥 The House Was a Funeral Pyre 🔥 | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 74.6k, warning: canon-typical everything) - COMPLETE!

In the cold grime of 1910 Paris, with loud steps over wet pavement, an inebriated group of young bohemians were exiting a small theater and making their way home. They were shouting, rambunctious with laughter, and one of the men was dancing, bathed in the streetlight glow.

He was beautiful.

Louis watched from the above in the dark, from the top of the steps leading down to the dirty path. He stood between the shadows, and for the first time in almost one hundred years, felt the draw of the warm light below.

Louis and Lestat, in reverse.

Surrender and Win | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 4.0k)

It’s difficult to remember when the last time Lestat had the upper hand over him like this was. There is something to the struggle, though, to the merciless push and pull that Louis finds he craves, and it feels good to be defeated at times. Lestat is a ruthless opponent, and to surrender to him can be its own form of release, but—Louis has never begged for it. He cannot. Fortunately, he’ll never need to. At the height of Louis and Lestat's "casual" arrangement, a power struggle ensues.

Dwell Where You Are Safe | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 5.1k)

Louis is a man of infuriating, addictive contradictions. Lestat had thought that following his and Claudia’s calamitous chess game, he would grow cold to him. Inexplicably, it seems to have produced the opposite effect. Or: after the chess game, Lestat struggles to make sense of his lover’s sudden, overwhelming lust.

Perpetual 1908 | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 6.3k)

This is a new side of Lestat, one that accepts Louis’ rule and lets himself be guided by his hand. There is a longing in him, a need for release from his own impulses, from his own sense of control. Has Paris done this to him, as well? Filled him with too many sorrows for keeping, made him crave a departure from his own mind? Louis buys Lestat a watch. The gift is well-received.

Five Memories in the Vaults of Your Mind | Armand/Louis (mature, 6.9k)

There are things in Armand’s past, people and moments and long stretches of times, years, decades—that he would not have objected to forgetting. If a benevolent being came along and offered to erase them for him, to blur the feelings that came with their memories, offered to take it all away and cradle Armand’s mind in its loving palm… he would have fallen to his knees and wept with relief.  Or: five things Louis would like to forget.

Haul Away Together | Louis/Lestat, Louis/The Sailor (explicit, 5.7k, warning: noncon elements with the sailor)

It’s like something pulled directly from Louis’ teenage mind; the bright, muscular sailor, ruddy with arousal as he shrugs off his shirt with easy confidence. Louis wonders if Lestat knew, somehow, of this forgotten fantasy of his youth. If it’s part of why it seems to be coming true, now. Three nights after Louis is turned, Lestat brings home a gift.

Words On Screen | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 6.9k)

It’s a text from Lestat, with an image attached. He does that sometimes, sends Louis pictures of things he thinks he would enjoy, though the vast majority of them are painfully pedestrian; a statue from the 18th century, a lamp had Lestat bought for his apartment, a man on the street with a pet parrot—on one occasion, a picture of a tree. Lestat claimed he ‘thought Louis would appreciate its unique Byzantine shape’.

Really, the pictures themselves are meaningless—they function, utterly transparently, as excuses to contact Louis. Little digital lures, meant to pull him into Lestat’s orbit once more. This is a sexting fic.

See / Exit | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 8.7k)

Louis is living for himself—which means doing what he wants, and being honest about what it is. So what if he flew across the world, attended Lestat’s concert, got hot and bothered watching him perform and waited for him in his dressing room? So what if upon seeing Lestat, he immediately went to his knees to give him a blowjob so dirty he thought he might come just from giving it? It’s not a big deal. At least, it doesn’t have to be. Or: five times Louis waits for Lestat in his dressing room, and one time Lestat is already there.

Burrow | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 8.7k, warning: dubcon)

Louis is tired a lot, these days. Lestat watches as he hunts human, makes sure he stays well-nourished and full, and so he knows that isn’t the reason. A voice from within him, a cruel one, wants to whisper to him—but Lestat banishes it from his mind. He will simply have to work harder, tonight, to rouse his beloved – a small challenge like this shouldn’t deter. Lestat will have him hard and begging in no time. Since their reconciliation, Louis has become more agreeable. Maybe too agreeable.

the body, not in stasis | Daniel/Louis, (explicit, 1.9k)

“The need to cares for your body is, in part, what tethers you to it. It’s a reminder, Daniel—that you are flesh and blood. That you are a human being,” Louis insists, in his usual verbose fashion, and Daniel can’t help but laugh as he turns to leave. “Well, you’re welcome to come watch, if it’s so magical to you,” he says.

Want and Swallow and Keep | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 10.7k, warning: dubcon)

Love, sex, possession. To Lestat, they’re all the same thing. So this could be perfect; Louis could decide what they do, control Lestat’s actions. He could make Lestat work for it, earn Louis’ trust again by way of obedience. Louis could restrain him from doing something—something bad.

Of Mercy, With Choice | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 6.2k)

“I always thought that your victims were truly fortunate, to be gifted with such an exhilarating death,” Lestat says, tangled in the messy sheets. “What bliss it must have been, to be killed by one so beautiful.” Louis and Lestat play at a fantasy. It gets a bit out of hand.

A Chill That Follows | Louis/Armand/Dreamstat (explicit, 4.9k)

Armand wants him, wants him bad—is willing to go against the coven to hold him. Louis can work with that, he’s good at figuring out which buttons to push, how to get what he needs. And this is what he needs right now; to feel a man’s touch after going without for so long. He wants Armand, too. Louis lets Armand in. Or at least, he tries to. There's a complication.

To Make a Real Home | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 5.4k, warning: dubcon)

Louis is hovering a few steps behind him as he tucks the girl in, as gently as he can—she needs to heal, and it will likely take some time. Lestat can feel Louis’ gaze on his back, can feel the anxiety radiating from him as he watches from a distance, stock-still as if afraid to disturb the ritual taking place in front of him. It makes Lestat feel cold. Emotions run high in the aftermath of Claudia's turning.

And the Knowing Is Sweet, Too | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 6.6k)

For his own peace of mind, Louis had to get Lestat out of that miserable shack. He rented him a fully furnished apartment not too far from Rue Royale, then purchased a new, elegant coffin for him to sleep in. Next, a modern wardrobe to help him blend in with the mortals. And finally, he bought him a piano—a nice one, too. He assured Lestat that it was all a loan, just until he got his finances in order. The piano, though, was a gift. And now it was time for Louis to go home.

See What Happens | Daniel/Louis, (explicit, 6.3k)

So this is happening. This extremely stupid, thrilling professional and personal mistake that he’s making with the 100-year-old serial killer he’s supposed to be interviewing. Daniel steels himself – it’s happening, and he’s in it, and there’s no point in turning back now. He has to see where it goes. Daniel stumbles into a game he doesn't understand.

New Ways for Old Things | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 3.8k, warning: this fic is old)

Louis is sure that the burns are painful, but Lestat’s reactions seem to indicate something beyond a simple physical thrill. It’s as if this old game is unveiling a brand new side of them.

Seek His Face and Turn | Louis/Lestat (explicit, 2.8k, warning: dubcon, and this fic is also old)

Louis can’t help but feel that nothing has truly changed. Lestat is simply humouring his latest whim, to play the overpowering predator to Lestat’s helpless victim in some mockery of a payback. Every night Louis berates himself for participating in this charade, and every morning he falls asleep in Lestat’s arms, spent and resigned. It’s never truly what he wants it to be, anyway, and it’s only a matter of time before this new game loses its novelty. After taking Lestat back, Louis bargains.

[odditycircus-2002]

Mortal Kombat Invasions: The Terraformer

Starring Medusa!Reader

A/N: I had a stroke of inspiration and decided to make one with Medusa!Reader. None of y’all asked but I hope y’all like it😁

Liu Kang: There was a Shang Tsung whom deeply adored a Y/N, who did not reciprocate his affections. But rather cruelly feigned their love for him in order to learn his magic and secrets of the Flesh Pits. Once learning all that they needed, Y/N betrayed Shang Tsung with a kiss that transformed him into an abhorrent tree made from his flesh and bone from where she made her throne. The Flesh Pits became her center of power where she could create horrific abominations before unleashing them upon all timelines to feast on any living thing in sight, whether that be man, woman, or child. Once there’s no one left to resist, Y/N would then use her magic and machines to terraform the timelines to her liking. If they’re not stopped, then all of the timelines will be subjected to their tyrannical rule.

Liu Kang: Upon first inspection, I thought that this Y/N was another of many of those that wish to conquer all other timelines. But I was mistaken… They do not wish to terraform timelines into barren thorn covered wastelands to rule them, but to destroy them. If they are not stopped, then this timeline and all others will have nothing remaining but Y/N and their monsters.

Liu Kang: The battle could be described as nothing more than complete brutal chaos that threatened to tear apart an entire realm, but eventually my allies were able to corner Y/N and subdued them. Seeing them to be too mad to reason with, they had no choice but to behead the mad Gorgon. Using their severed head, my allies were able to take out a great majority of Y/N’s monsters as they tried to avenge their fallen mistress. Yet, those that were not turned to stone were quick to flee, scattering into other timelines only to be later hunted down. It will take a very long time before the realms can fully heal from the damage Y/N’s terraforming and monsters. Yet, I’ve seen the realms able to heal within decades and even over the course of eons countless times, so as long as there remains the smallest seed to bloom from.

[sequinsmile-x]

Our Great Divide - Chapter 4: Beyond the Terror in the Nightfall

It's what they'd hoped would happen for years. For close to a decade it's what they would talk about late at night whilst snuggled up in bed together, quiet voices whispering about a life where Jack and Haley came back, where Jack could meet his siblings and their family would finally feel complete. Now it was finally happening, Emily had a pit in her stomach. A heavy weight made of fear and guilt as she worried that this could actually be the thing that tore them apart.

A Foyet Arc AU

-x-

Hi friends <3

I continue to be blown away by the love for this fic, thank you so so much. This is such an interesting perspective to explore their story from and it means so much that you're enjoying it too <3

As always, let me know what you think of this chapter !

-x-

Warnings: Full list of warnings can be found on the Master List

Words: 4.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily’s grateful to have Stella in her lap. The reassuring and familiar weight of her youngest keeping her grounded as they had a family conversation Emily had pictured so many times. She’d semi-practised it in her head when hope had a hold on her, but the reality of doing it was so much more difficult than she’d imagined. 

“Do you understand?” Aaron asks, Leo and Hugo sat on either side of him, matching expressions on their faces that usually brought her joy. Hugo nods, his lips pressed together as he speaks first. 

“So Jack and Miss Haley are back home?” 

Aaron nods, his arm around the boy's shoulders as he tugs them closer, his need to have his children near as strong as it had ever been. He smiles tightly at Emily before he responds, “That’s right.” 

“Can we meet them?” Hugo asks, his innocence allowing him to be excited, “I’ve always wanted a big brother.” 

It feels like a punch in the gut, the reality that in another life, when things had been simpler, Hugo would have always known his older brother. That they’d have grown up together and been close. Jack’s resistance to even hear about his siblings, whilst understandable, had hurt Aaron more than he’d admit. His naive fantasy that this would work out the way he’d been dreaming of for years crumbling around him. 

“We’ll take this one step at a time, baby,” Emily says, replying for her husband, “We’ve got time,” she smiles when Hugo nods, his disappointment silent but clear. She looks at Leo, her heart clenching at his confusion, “Do you understand Leo?” 

He nods but furrows his brow, “Do you think he’ll like me?” 

Emily tilts her head, “Who sweetie? Jack?” 

Leo nods again, “What if he doesn’t like me?” 

Aaron is snapped out of the semi-trance he’d fallen into at the shake in his son’s voice, and he tugs him closer, kissing Leo’s dark hair, “Of course, he’ll like you,” he smiles softly, “Everyone likes you, buddy.” 

Emily smiles as Leo beams and she turns her attention to Stella, tilting her head as she looks down at her little girl, “Do you understand sweet girl?” 

“The bad guy is gone, and Jack is home,” she says, summing it up in such a way, her sweet voice making it sound even more innocent, that Emily pulls her closer on instinct, kissing the top of her head. 

“That’s right baby,” she says, smiling when Stella turns to wrap her arms around her, always keen to be in the arms of one of her parents, “Do any of you have any other questions?” She asks, and Leo raises his hand, something he’d started doing since he’d learnt it in school, and she chuckles, “Yes Leo?” 

“Can we have pizza for dinner?”

She laughs, unable to stop herself, and she feels a little lighter when Aaron does too, the speed at which their children had accepted something so complicated so easily enough to ease some of the tension that had settled over them. She looks at Aaron, who nods, his smile as relaxed as she’d seen it in days, and then she looks back at her youngest son, “Yes, baby. I’m sure we can manage that.” 

They have dinner together and it feels normal, like the last week or so hadn’t happened, and Emily feels guilty for how grateful she is. Aaron puts Stella to bed, and then Emily puts Leo to bed, taking more time than she usually would as she does it, revelling in the one-on-one time with her youngest son as she reads him a story until he falls asleep against her. When she makes it back downstairs she hears laughter, twin giggles from Aaron and their son as he gives Hugo a piggyback around the hallway. It was a game they’d played since Hugo was small, small enough that it had worried Emily at first, her mother’s instincts kicking in as her toddler laughed so much on his father’s back that she worried he’d fall. She stands back and watches them, letting the small piece of normality wash over her as she leans against a wall, her shoulder catching a framed photo of their family of 5 from Hugo’s most recent birthday. 

She’s pulled out of the moment when the doorbell rings and she frowns, wondering who would come over at this time of night. She walks to the door, keen to answer it before the bell rings again and potentially wakes up either of her kids sleeping upstairs. She doesn’t check the peephole, so she doesn’t prepare herself for coming face-to-face with her husband’s ex-wife. 

“Haley,” she chokes out, clearing her throat in an attempt to hide her surprise, “I…wasn’t expecting to see you.” 

Haley smiles tightly, “I felt bad for how we left the other day,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest, “I thought we should talk some more.”

Emily nods and stares at her for a second before she realises she’s still blocking the door. She takes a step backwards, “Sorry, come in.” 

Haley walks into the house. She doesn’t hide how she looks around, her gaze drifting from photo to photo hung on the walls, every corner of their house the home they’d fought for it to be. She turns to look back at Emily, “It’s a lovely house.” 

“Thanks,” she replies, the awkwardness misplaced in her home, “Would you like something to-”

“Sweetheart,” Aaron says, turning the corner, Hugo still on his back, “Who was that at the…” he trails off when he sees his ex-wife, “Haley.”

Emily watches as realisation crosses Hugo’s face and she walks over, helping him down from Aaron’s back, “Why don’t you go up to your room, honey?” She says, crouching down to his level and scraping his hair back from his face, encouraging him to look at her and not the blonde woman standing in the hall. 

“But-”

“Please, sweetheart?” She asks, “I’ll come up and see you in a little bit,” she promises, “You can play the Switch up there.” 

His eyes go wide at the offer, “Really?”

She nods, grateful that bribery still worked now he is no longer a tiny thing that needed to be talked into brushing his teeth, “Really,” she confirms, kissing his forehead, “Just this once, okay.” 

“Okay,” he says enthusiastically, running off to the den to grab the Switch before he trundles up the stairs. 

It’s only when he’s out of sight that she stands up straight, shaking off her husband’s apologetic smile as she presses her hand against his back, rubbing a soothing circle to remind him that she was there no matter what, “Shall we go sit down?” She offers, and he nods, and she looks up at Haley, “Do you want something to drink?” 

Haley shakes her head, “No thank you.” 

They settle in the living room, Emily so close to Aaron that she’s practically in his lap, their thighs pressed against each other as their joint hands settle on her thigh. He’s sure it’s some kind of subconscious attempt to mark her territory, as if they weren’t sitting in some kind of museum of their love for each other. 

“I’m sorry for the other day,” Haley says, clearing her throat as she settles on the opposite end of the couch to them, “Jack is…it’s been a lot for him. He’s a teenager and thats hard at the best of times,” she says, unknowingly repeating what Emily had said when they’d left her office, “And I was surprised at the news that you had children. I just needed some time to…adjust,” she blows out a shaky breath, “I know it isn’t fair. But I don’t think in any of the ways I imagined this I pictured coming back to find out you had a new family. That you’d just…replaced us.” 

Something about the way she says it has Emily’s shackles going up, her back tight with the implication that she and her children were some kind of consolidation prize. A backup that wouldn’t have been needed if things had turned out differently. 

“My family isn’t a replacement, Haley,” Aaron says, an edge of sternness creeping into his voice as he tightens his hold on Emily’s hand, “And I could never replace Jack. He’s my son.” 

Haley sighs and nods, “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is just an impossible situation,” she smiles tightly, “There aren’t any books on it. I checked.” 

Emily smiles, “Me too.” 

Haley returns her smile, her gaze flicking to a picture on the wall, “Your children are adorable.” 

“Thanks,” Emily replies, looking at the picture herself, her children’s matching smiles shining back at her, “We think so too.” 

“How do manage with work?” Haley asks, “I noticed Emily’s name on your old desk, Aaron,” she says as she looks at him, “Did you finally get that promotion?” 

He takes a deep breath, knowing his answer would likely get a reaction, his inability to do for Haley and Jack what he’d done for Emily and their children had been one of the reasons his first marriage had turned to dust around him. Settling on every good memory that had come before it, each happy moment he’d had with his eldest son and Haley marred by how their relationship had ended. By the choices he had made. 

“Actually, I retired when Hugo, our eldest, was born,” he says, watching as his ex-wife’s shoulders get tense again, “One of us had to, and Emily wasn’t ready to leave yet. So we eventually came to the decision that I should.” 

“You…you retired?” She asks, swallowing thickly as a bitter laugh pushes free from her throat, “You did the one thing that would have stopped any of this from happening if you’d just done it years ago when I asked?” She shakes her head and laughs again, “But, sure Emily wanted to carry on working so you retired no questions asked.” 

Aaron sighs, “Haley-”

“It doesn’t matter that my son and I had to hide for so long. That we had to live under different names and break off contact with everyone we knew. As long as you got to start everything from scratch and make the right choice this time it’s all okay.” 

“Haley-” he tries again, but he’s cut off by Emily this time, her fury clear from the way she grips his thigh, her blunt nails digging in through his jeans. 

“You don’t get to come into my house and speak to my husband like that,” Emily says, protectiveness flaring in her lungs, “I understand this is difficult-”

Haley scoffs, “Oh, you understand-”

“But you aren’t the only one who has been impacted by this,” she says, carrying on as if Haley hadn’t spoken, “We’re all trying our best.” 

She can see how tight Haley’s jaw is from across the couch, but she nods sharply, “Okay,” she clears her throat, “I know,” she screws her hands up in her lap, “I think it would be good if we tried to all get together again. Jack would…he would like to meet his siblings. But maybe not here.” 

Aaron nods, the tension in the room thick enough that he struggles to fill his lungs, “How about that park we used to go to? The one near Capitol Hill?” 

“That sounds good.” 

“Mommy.” 

Emily sighs at the sound of Hugo’s voice travelling down the stairs, his patience clearly running out. She looks at her husband and squeezes his hand, “I’d better go up and see him.” 

He nods and kisses her cheek before she stands up, and she smiles tightly at Haley before she leaves the room, not quite able to fill her lungs until she’s out in the hall. She takes the stairs two at a time, smiling when she sees Hugopurposely standing just inside of his bedroom so he keeps in line with her request to stay in there. 

“Hi sweetie,” she says, ruffling his hair before she steps into his room, “Are you okay?” 

He shrugs, his eyebrows furrowed as he sinks into his bed, “Is that Miss Haley?” 

She nods as she sits on his bed with him, gathering him up against her side, needing the comfort of her little boy, “Yes, it is.” 

“She sounds mad.” 

She closes her eyes as she presses a kiss to his head, settling them down so they are lying next to each other, “She is, honey. But I think she’s mostly sad.” 

He frowns as he looks up at her, “Did Daddy do something wrong?” 

She shakes her head, running her fingers through his hair, “No, baby. No one did anything wrong. It’s just…really complicated,” she says, unable to stop herself from smiling when he looks confused, “It’s hard. Like that big puzzle with all those tiny pieces that Aunt Tara got you for your birthday.” 

He nods in understanding and rests his head back against her chest, “I miss things being simple.” 

She smiles again, “Me too, sweet boy,” she says, kissing his head, soaking in the scent of him like she had done since he was just hours old, “Want me to stay until you fall asleep?” 

“Yes please, Mommy.” 

She sings to him until he starts to drift off, his body heavy against her as his breath evens out. She stays with him long after he falls asleep, content to stay in the relative peace she’d made in his room. She sighs when she hears the front door open and close, and then Aaron’s footsteps on the stairs. She closes her eyes and relaxes her grip on Hugo just enough that her husband would hopefully think she was sleeping, the thought of talking this through again, of having to discuss how complicated everything had become again, enough to make her cry. All she wanted was to lay here with her oldest and pretend it was just a normal night. 

If Aaron knows she’s faking it, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leans over her and kisses Hugo’s forehead and then hers, whispering an apology against her skin before he leaves the room for a second. He’s back with a blanket that he lays over her before he kisses the top of her head one more time. He turns off the light and gently closes the door behind him, leaving her and Hugo alone and safely tucked up in his small bed. 

She falls asleep curled up around her son, hoping more than anything they’d make it through this.

___

March 2013

It had been hours of this. Hours of laying on her back, of being checked on by nurses and doctors as her labour slowly progressed. With each passing contraction she felt more on edge and the only things keeping her grounded were her husband and the thought they’d soon be meeting their son. 

She had a plan. She was going to spend as much of her labour on her feet as she could, letting gravity do its job as she waited for her son to make his entrance into the world. Hugo, it seemed, had other plans. 

She’d felt nothing short of ridiculous when she cried as her due date came and went with no signs of labour - not even a Braxton Hicks contraction which had been happening on and off for weeks. She tried everything to induce labour naturally, her doctor’s warning that she shouldn’t go past 41 weeks ringing in the back of her mind. Aaron bought her every type of spicy food possible. He went to a specific whole foods store to buy her tea, which the internet said would start her labour. They had enough sex to rival the early days of their relationship, with no small amount of manoeuvring and her pile of pillows to make sure she was comfortable. 

Nothing had worked. So her plan was torn from under her and she had no choice but to lay in bed as an IV delivered medication to do what her body hadn’t been able to do for itself. She knew it wasn’t her fault, that it was just one of those things, but it didn’t make it any easier to take. 

She’d wanted one thing about her pregnancy to be as she’d hoped it would be. 

She clenches her teeth to capture a groan, her grip on Aaron’s hand so tight she’s sure she feels his knuckles crack together but it barely registers as the contraction rips through her. She screws her eyes shut as she tries to breathe through it. Aaron rests his forehead against her temple, whispering comforting praise as the contraction reaches its peak and then fades. It had been hours of this. Her body pushed almost to its limit each time, and she was exhausted. 

“Fuck,” she exclaims, resting back against the bed again, “Fuck this sucks,” she opens her eyes and looks at her husband, something she refused to call a pout spreading across her face, “Why won’t he come out?” He opens his mouth to respond and she cuts him off, “And don’t give me any of that ‘you’ve made a comfortable home for him’ bullshit,” she grimaces, shifting her hips to try to find some relief from the discomfort in her back, “I can feel him in my fucking pelvis and I doubt it’s any more comfortable for him than it is for me.” 

Aaron simply leans forward to kiss her forehead, “Want me to get the nurse to come and check on you again?” He asks, his endless patience for her almost irritating. She nods and he kisses her forehead again before reaching over her and pressing the call bell on the wall, “You’re doing amazing, sweetheart.” 

She squeezes his hand tightly again when the nurse examines her, and she’s disappointed that she’s not much further along, the desire to meet her son even stronger than her desire for this to all be over. 

It takes another hour for things to change, for the contractions to get closer together and for the pain to become close to overwhelming, each pass of it through her body almost too much for her to bear. Everything she’s been ignoring for months starts to creep up on her, the fear that she wouldn’t be able to keep her little boy safe pressing down on her chest, her lungs tight as another contraction rolls through her. 

“I can’t do this.” 

She doesn’t even realise she’s spoken outloud until Aaron presses her hand between both of his, kissing her knuckles as the machine she’s attached to lets him know her contraction is coming to its end, “Em, you’re doing an amazing job. You’re so close - Hugo is almost here.” 

She shakes her head, “No, you don’t…” she trails off, her laugh close to hysterical as she looks at him, tears splashing down onto her cheeks, “He’s safe where he is. I can’t protect him when he’s here,” her voice cracks and she thinks her chest does with it, the pressure of everything forcing it to concave as she tries to breathe. Aaron cups her face, rubbing back and forth across her cheek, “I can’t do this. He has to stay safe.” 

Aaron stands up and sits on the edge of her bed and presses his forehead against hers, “Emily, you can do anything,” he says, kissing her before she leans in to rest her head against his shoulder, “You’re the strongest person I know,” he rubs his hand up and down her back, his eyes flicking to the monitor as she tightens her grip on him, her body tense against him as another contraction starts to build, “And I’ll keep you both safe no matter what. We’ll keep each other safe.” 

She shudders out a breath as she pulls back to look at him, her eyes shining as her lower lip trembles, “I think…I think it’s almost time.” 

He smiles softly, “I’ll get the nurse.”

___

She gasps as her son slips into the doctor’s waiting hands, the relief overwhelming as she collapses back against the bed. She barely pays attention as Aaron kisses her temple and then her cheek as he tells her how much he loves her, how proud he is of her. She doesn’t notice how the nurse on her other side pulls down her gown leaving her practically naked. 

All she is aware of is him. 

Hugo’s cry is loud and sharp, and as the doctor holds him up and passes him to her, letting Emily settle him against her chest, she feels a wave of love rush through her, her breath catching in her lungs as she looks at him. He was bright red and covered in god knows what, his dark hair stuck down to his cone-shaped head, and he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. 

“Hi Hugo,” she whispers, kissing his head, “Hi. Look at you,” she looks up at Aaron, sure she’d be knocked over if she wasn’t lying down at the strength of the love in his gaze, and she cups his cheek, “Look at him, Aaron.” 

“He’s beautiful,” he says, kissing her head and then Hugo’s, “Just like you.” 

She looks back at her son, smiling as he continues to cry. She shushes him, resting her cheek against his head, “You’re okay, baby,” she says, “Mommy’s here.” 

“Would Dad like to cut the cord?” 

The doctor’s question is what reminds Emily that they aren’t alone, that it isn’t just the three of them in their own little world, and Aaron nods, kissing his wife and son one more time before he stands up. He pays close attention as the doctor tells him what to do as Emily continues to whisper to Hugo, telling him how loved he is, how much they’ve been looking forward to meeting him. 

By the time they are alone, what feels like hours later, Hugo clean and wrapped up warm in Emily’s arms, and her fresh out of the shower, she doesn’t think she’s ever been happier. She’s exhausted, sore in ways she didn’t know was possible, but she doesn’t think she could sleep even if she wanted to. All she wants is to sit and look at her son, to commit every single thing about his sweet face to memory, and enjoy this first night of his life. 

She looks up at her husband as he barely covers a yawn for the third time in as many minutes. He’s sitting on the bed with her, half behind her as he has his arms wrapped around the both of them, his excitement and happiness tinged with the sadness that followed them everywhere. The sadness that, for once, she wasn’t going to address.

“You should get some sleep, honey,” she says, unhooking one arm from around Hugo as she cups Aaron’s cheek, “You’re exhausted.” 

He chuckles, “You’re the one who gave birth, sweetheart,” he says, stamping a quick kiss against her lips, “You should get some rest.” 

She shakes her head lovingly, “I feel too wired to sleep,” she says, “You’ve been awake just as long as I have,” she kisses him again, “Get some sleep. We’ll both be here when you wake up.” 

She knows she’s hit on his fear in one shot, hours and hours of labour not enough to dull her skills, and he rests his forehead against hers, “You’ll wake me up if you need anything?”

She nods, her forehead knocking gently against his, “I promise.” 

It takes some manoeuvring for him to slip out from behind her, but they manage it without waking up Hugo. Aaron kisses them both and tells them he loves them before he settles onto the cot the nurse had rolled in for him. Emily has to stop herself from laughing when he has to curl up to fit on the small bed, at least a foot too tall to sleep on it comfortably. Despite that, he falls asleep the quickest she’s ever known him to, his arms wrapped around the thin pillow. 

“Daddy loves us so much, sweet boy,” she says, turning her focus back on her son. She runs her knuckles up and down his cheek, smiling when his face twitches against the touch. The fear she’d felt earlier that she couldn’t keep him safe returns in full force, stealing the breath from her lungs as she lifts the baby to kiss his forehead, her breath shuddering in her chest as she breathes him in, “I’m going to make sure you��re always safe, Hugo,” she kisses him again, her eyes closed as she rests her cheek against the top of his head, “No matter what.” 

[quinloki]

Charlotte Katakuri - BITTER

Requestor: Anonymous (you were wise to request this anonymously I think XD ) Reader Vibes Requested: AFAB she/her CW: I don't know how to warn this. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK. It's short and SHARP.

Your scream of terror rang in Katakuri’s ears like a siren. Just like the mythological beast’s enchanting song, he couldn’t get the sound of it out of his head.

It echoed with every thump of his heart.

Your eyes wide with fear, the way you went ghost-white at the sight of him. Everything about him was monstrous to you, not just his size, or his fangs, or his lineage. His very existence within your home had struck you as wrong.

Things had been slow going between the two of you, since your marriage by Mama’s will nearly a decade ago. It had taken almost a year for you to each truly relax around one another. Months after that before you could consider what you did to be called cuddling.

Slowly, carefully, and steadily, the two of you had grown closer. Responsibility turned into affection, turned into trust.

Turned into love.

A sweet love that was the soft tangle of fingers as you sat together. A gentle love that was full of deep breaths and slow movements, consummation within the confines of what intimacy you could handle. A love that was akin to a tree, more than a flower. Slowly taking root, but sturdy and strong, branches hefty enough to cradle you both well.

It was all gone now.

He didn’t even have to ask why. He didn’t even have to ask how.

Slumping to his knees, Katakuri presses his forehead to the ground, doing everything he can to look smaller, to look less threatening, to look as fragile as he feels.

“I won’t hurt you.” He says, voice even and firm, held together by decades of practiced control. He repeats the phrase a couple more times, until the thundering of your heart calms a little. Until the shivering in your legs and arms aren’t skittering through the floor against his skin.

“I promise, I will never harm you.” He says finally, eyes and face still pointed toward the floor. He doesn’t have his scarf nearby, he hasn’t needed it while inside his home for a long time. He could use his power to get it, but if you’d lost enough of your memories that you didn’t even know what Devil Fruits were, he didn’t want to send you into a panic right now.

He could look ahead.

Should.

But he can’t.

Every ounce of his control is focused on his own heart, his own words. He cannot spare a drop of concentration for anything else, or he will fall apart. The perfect son of the Charlotte family, defeated by a single wail.

Countless battles. Internal and external. Enemies and weaknesses laid low and set as mortar and brick to separate himself from anything that could crack the mask he’d made.

Scraps of film were left on the floor. Shattered pieces of the remnants of your memory.

Left behind on purpose.

Left behind on command of his mother.

Left behind as a message, more than even the state you were in.

He had dared to put something above himself. Above his family. Above his mother. He had dared to love you so completely that only a fool would’ve missed how far he’d fallen.

To dare to love anyone more than his family.

This was the cost.

[elizabethrobertajones]

I wish to hear the tales of siren Lizzy driving men into rocks with disinterested lesbian asexuality! Those sound like fun stories!

Oh my god, like, the most recent event, I think I manic pixie dreamgirled a dear friend, who we'd met in weird circumstances (he and his brothers were notable town characters being small business owners with a visible presence and themselves as a trio came across a lot stranger than they actually were. A bestie of mine met his brother and married him and he's the nicest most normal guy, so his brother (much nerdier) became a sort of friend-brother-in-law and we became friends, but I'd reacted in shock and awe to my friend having met her husband by chance since I recognised them in a very silly way and when I was a teen had used their appearance for characters in a story on account of them being Notable Strange People In Town and I'd thought they were only background characters in my life forever until then and therefore fair game to take inspiration from.)

I was just being me at him (chatty, fun, extremely weird, trying not to admit I'd basically made up spy fanfiction about him and his brothers a decade earlier) and he also was sort of weird in a benign normal nerdy way so I didn't think there was anything strange, until I realised he was coming around regularly and bestowing quite large gifts and writing really really really nice birthday cards specifically to me (easy to tell when you're a twin and your twin also gets a present and card from him) which made me start to realise he miiiight have a crush on me, and then I thought about it some more from his perspective of meeting me and how I can be rather full on in person and he was a wallflower who rarely got any attention especially compared to his two more conventionally normcore brothers, and realised I'd accidentally enabled him up to the point that I briefly considered just marrying him to avoid the embarrassment if he did proposition me. But I sort of gently ghosted and just toned back the interaction to group chats and collective meetings and while I feel sort of bad and miss hanging out with a friend who is in town, it was probably very sensible because he was way too nice to accidentally destroy through awkwardness :P

since I'm biromantic and demisexual I do end up crushing on guys and giving anyone a really long time to shoot their shot because I can't tell if I'm just mildly crushing and it could be more or if it's going to turn into more but it is Always a catastrophe and makes me feel More Gay Than Ever in the aftermath and I know now after so many failed attempts I am Not Meant to date at the very least any guy who is excessively cis, het, shy, or normcore in interests because I just end up in a spiral about not matching them in any way whatsoever despite my surface ability to start crushing, and it causes an enormous communication gulf that they are never equipped to handle and I always end up feeling like I'm trying to explain myself to a brick wall until I give up and things fall apart, because in the same time I was giving them a run up, they had already fallen completely in love or else thought we should already be having tons of sex and were hurt I wasn't interested yet and couldn't SAY that so they get passive aggressive and super weird and - aaurgh. Sometimes I just want to be friends, also, but that can also be seen as interest from some people so then they hit a double brick wall where I only ACCIDENTALLY led them on and I sometimes don't even know myself which one it was if I did crush on them at least a little at first.

I do catch myself thinking sometimes that I should just shave my head to try and get some sort of visible barrier up XD

[profoundbondfanfic]

Born to be yours by zation [Explicit, 72k words]

Castiel finds a curious creature in his backyard. Or, The one where Dean wanted an apple but found himself a human instead (and also an apple).

Breathing Into You by casblackfeathers [Explicit, 110k words]

‘Beware the deep sea, that’s where the monsters come from.’ Dean had heard these words since birth, his father’s warnings shaping him into the man he is today. That’s not the root of Dean’s hatred for merpeople, though. Twenty years after the day tragedy had touched the Winchesters’ lives forever as well as the end of the Great War between humans and mer, Dean is still haunted by that moment. But loving the sea is just as much a part of him as the dread for the merfolk, so when he isn’t working at the local bar, he is there, underwater, immersed in the vast blue his mother used to speak of in her bedtime stories. Dean knows, however, that the sea can be as ruthless as it is soothing. When he is caught in the middle of a storm and faces the anger of the waves, the mysterious appearance of a stranger with blue eyes as clear as the waters Dean loves losing himself in forces Dean to question the truth behind his father’s old mantra.

carving deep blue ripples by dothraki_shieldmaiden [Mature, 85k words]

With his little brother at Stanford and his father searching out leads on the monster that killed his mother, Dean Winchester is left to hunt alone. It's fun, except in the ways that it really blows. Things start to turn around when he meets Castiel Novak, another hunter. Castiel is aloof and maybe a little too sarcastic, but he's good backup (and pretty easy on the eyes. Not that Dean's looking or anything). After a few hunts, Dean is willing to make his and Castiel's partnership permanent (and he's not exactly averse to adding another component to their partnership either. After all, he's caught Castiel looking at him just as many times as Castiel's caught him looking). But Castiel is hiding a secret, and it's so explosive that it threatens to not only tear them apart, but also tear apart everything Dean believes in.

Convenient Husbands by Annie D (scaramouche) [Explicit, 39k words]

"It's only temporary, right?" Dean says. "Just until you're healed up, and then we'll never have to see each other again. So what do you say, Castiel, do you want to marry me or not?"

Dragon Hunt by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim) [Explicit, 171k words]

What is a former knight fallen from grace supposed to do when one day, after almost a decade of scouring the outskirts of the kingdom for his missing brother, he finds himself confronted with a powerful, terrifying and also ridiculously weird dragon? Yes, exactly: team up with the guy and scam oblivious people out of their money! Easy as that, right? (In which Dean ends up stumbling upon a strange, blue-eyed dragon and before he even knows what's happening he is in way too deep to get out again.)

It's a Small World (aka the Worst Ride at Disneyland) by ireadhpinenochian [Mature, 45k words]

Dean's life didn't start out great. With his mom dying and his father taking him and Sam on wild goose chase after wilder goose chase to track down her killer until Sam couldn't take it anymore and ran off, it pretty much sucked. But now he has Cas. And Cas is great--perfect, even--definitely the best thing that's ever happened to him, even if he isn't quite human. He's been living so long in domestic bliss that he completely forgot to be worried about waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which is, of course, when his giant of a brother strolls back into his life sending Dean into a panic that he and Cas will have to uproot their perfect apple pie life if Sam finds out Cas' big secret.

Like Lightning Under Your Skin by A_Diamond [Explicit, 24k words]

Desperate for a way to save his brother from a demon’s clutches, hunter Dean does the unthinkable and seeks out a supernatural creature for help: a powerful lightning elemental, the kind he and his family should be killing. When his attempt to bind the elemental goes awry, he finds himself psychically connected to it instead. The creature’s emotions bleed into his; its pain echoes into him. Rather than finding the solution to saving Sam, Dean’s given himself a new and even more time-sensitive problem. He has to find a way to master the bond before the rest of the hunters decide he’s too far gone and put him down. The trouble is that the more time he spends connected to the elemental’s thoughts, the more he starts to wonder if they don’t have it all wrong. Maybe the creature, which calls itself Castiel, doesn’t deserve to be slaughtered; maybe the rest of its kind hadn’t deserved that, either. Or maybe that’s just Castiel’s voice in his head.

Man in the Wilderness by OneHundredSuns [Explicit, 68k words]

Dean Winchester is fresh out of Purgatory along with every other Tom, Dick and Wendigo that called the cesspool home. As the monsters lay waste to the Earth and eat anything they can get their hands on, Dean sets out to find his only remaining family so that they can hunker down and fight the assholes head on. He doesn’t mean to stumble upon Castiel Novak and his adorable twins in the middle of the apocalypse and he sure as hell doesn’t mean to offer them a ride to wherever they are trying to get to. But the world is a dangerous place now and he’s always been a sucker for blue eyes and cute kids. So he’ll help them out and just hope it doesn’t get him or them killed in the process.

Miasma by ValandraWrites [Explicit, 13k words]

Dean's grown up with a monster under his bed. They kind of became friends. Then they kind of became more than friends.

The Graveyard Shift by PurgatoryJar, riseofthefallenone [Explicit, 620k words]

Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

[disconnected-from-reality]

Fanfic rec: Bones B&B

Hi~! After so many years, I'm back with a new set of fanfic recommendations! This time it's for a different show, one near and dear to my heart, which is pretty much a give away from the title of this post. I've been a fan of Bones for more than a decade now, I've known the show way before I've known Sherlock. But it has only occurred to me this 2024 that Bones might actually have some fanfictions out there. Lo and behold, there are quite a number around, and the next thing I know, I've read enough for a post like this!

For now, I'm listing some of the fanfics that really spoke and hit my heart. Maybe in my next post I'll try to categorize them in some way.

As usual, all works are complete unless stated otherwise. Happy reading!

Quicksand by MoreBonesPlz [Words: <46,783 | T: Suitable for teens] What if after the infamous B&B conversation in the truck during The Doctor in the Photo where Booth told Brennan she'd missed her chance, Brennan didn't acquiesce? What if once opened, she no longer found it possible to close the Pandora's box with respect to her feelings for Booth?

The Whole in the Sum of the Parts by fourth_rose [Words: 21,933 | Mature | Also available in Ao3] Children change things – sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, and sometimes from the very beginning. Season 1 AU.

The Passenger Seat by cortexx [Words: 3,345 | Teen And Up Audiences | Also available in FFN] Four times someone adjusted Brennan's seat in Booth's car over the years, and the one time she did it to Booth.

Servare Vitas by newscaper [Words: <101,948 | T: Suitable for teens] To Save Lives. A Bones Novel. Brennan helps Booth try to lay old ghosts to rest as he becomes a sniper for the FBI, a decision with life and death consequences that could change everything. 

The Science Teacher in the Public School by FictionWriter91 [Words: <47,114 | T: Suitable for teens] Story is AU with a mix of canon. What if Temperance and Russ were taken with their parents instead of being left behind? What if Brennan is now a well loved science teacher at a public school like her father used to be? Brennan loves her work and her students, especially Parker Booth, who is very talented and adores her. Things couldn't be better. Then she meets Parker's father.

Right from the Start by Christi Whitson [Words: <265,871 | M: Mature] Season 1 re-write, tweaking the details and one of the tertiary characters. Because I think that under the right set of circumstances, BB would have fallen for each other right from the start. Peter is a threat to Brennan, and Tessa doesn't exist. More drama than angst. 

An Aggregation of Maladjusted Companions by jazzyproz [Words: <251,013 | M: Mature] Suffering from a declining solve rate following their returns to DC, Booth and Brennan are forced to attend a team-building convention. Neither of them think they need the workshops or exercises, but it's apparent to everyone around them that if they don't do something, the whole team will soon be falling apart. Can they fix their broken partnership?

Stupid Alpha Male - Ardialene [Words: <9,292  | Suitable for more mature childen] No matter how many times Booth denies it, Brennan knows that her partner is a true alpha male. And she has evidence to prove it.

Let the Games Begin by TRUSSELL33 [Words: <159,075 | M: Mature] What would Booth do if Brennan suddenly came on to him? Written as a challenge on another site but am thinking of turning it into a short story. Let me know if anyone is interested.

Wise Mind by naelany [Words: 13,416 | Teen And Up Audiences | Ao3 Account Required] Temperance had made the - perfectly logical - decision to rebuff Booth’s advances not once, but twice. After all, she was a mundane and he was an online, high order Sentinel and would one day find his Guide. To her mind, there was no point in starting something with the man, no matter how attracted they were to each other, because in the end he would leave her.

Confessions from a Bottle by MoreBonesPlz [Words: <27,052 | T: Suitable for teens] Booth believes he is happy in his relationship with Hannah until an intoxicated Brennan reveals her true feelings for him and makes him question what happiness really means.

Problem Solving, the Booth and Brennan Way by Hannah Taylor1 [Words: <384,802 | T: Suitable for teens] Brennan has a problem she's not sharing.Booth wants to help fix things,as always,only to find the conversation skewing in a direction he'd never expected. Set several months post-The Boy With the Answer.

How My Heart Behaves by mia101 [Words: <57,376 | M: Mature] Brennan thinks she understands what sex is all about...until Booth gives her a glimpse that makes her think otherwise. But who's teaching whom? And what will they learn...?

The Heart Won't Lie by razztaztic [Words: 16,531 | T: Suitable for teens | Also Available in Ao3 | Ao3 Account Required] Alternate ending for 6x09 "The Doctor in the Photo." What if Booth hadn't been there to save Brennan and she was hit by the car?

The Heart of the Matter by fourth_rose [Words: 7,546 | Mature] "What do you mean, you know you can't have me? It's not like you've ever asked!"

The Intern by cortexx [Words: 1,766 | Teen And Up Audiences | Also available in FFN] Brennan is trying to choose a new intern, and is slowly weeding out the ones who are unacceptable candidates. A case of mistaken identity narrows down the competition when one candidate makes an inappropriate comment to Parker about Bones.

Maternal Instinct by tempecameron [Words: <20,878 | T: Suitable for teens] Dr. Temperance Brennan can handle remains that are thousands of years old, but can she keep up with one small child? BB fluff, Parker cuteness, relationship drama, weird author's notes.

Snowed In by Imagination-Parade [Words: <23,752 | T: Suitable for teens] Booth and Parker get snowed in at Brennan's apartment after Parker insists that they spend Christmas with her. Set after 3.09 "Santa in the Slush"

Let me know what you think of this list. I'd love to have some feedback! I'll be back with a new list soon, hopefully!

Looking for other fanfic recommendations? I might have something you're interested in, or if you have requests feel free to ask!

[physalian]

Timeskips (A Deceptively Tricky Trope)

Anyone remember when we all went to the theaters to see Endgame and the trailers actually fooled us into thinking all the action happened immediately after Infinity War? Then 15 minutes into the movie, the Thanos we grew to love/hate dies and the bomb drops: “Five…Years…Later”

It’s a shame that the movie didn’t properly explore the worldly consequences of losing half the population in favor of a Marvel victory lap through all its greatest hits. That our heroes could do absolutely nothing for five whole years, opening on a shot of a cold and dark cityscape — that was the best use and execution of a timeskip I’ve seen in recent memory, even if the rest of the movie didn’t follow through with it.

Timeskips are an effective way to age up characters or age past the end of an era of peace, or the healing after a tragedy (or the lifeless aftermath of one). Usually, your established heroes do their heroic thing, and anywhere from a couple weeks to a couple months to a couple years pass before the story picks back up again. Some may have died along the way, the political climate has changed, couples have had children, or babies have grown into their own characters, relationships have grown, begun, or fallen apart.

These damnable plot devices are a double-edged sword. On the one hand, the author gets to skip sometimes decades of meandering plot and development to tell almost an entirely new story in the same universe, sometimes not even with the same characters who are now too old, too dead, or retired.

However, timeskips can also cause some massive confusion, missed opportunities, and fandom wars over whether or not the jaded and grizzled and depressed heroes we see on screen are, in fact, a realistic evolution from the last time we saw them (looking at you, Star Wars).

Sometimes, they’re used in a single episode, thrusting a present character into the depressing dystopian future so they can prevent whatever causes said future before disaster strikes (Teen Titans "How Long Is Forever?"), and all returns to normal by the time the credits roll. Sometimes, the author really wanted the drama and angst of a pregnancy, then got stuck with a baby that needs constant attention from its parents who can no longer go do Plot Things until the baby can take care of themselves (The Originals).

Sometimes it’s the jump between two eras of a series, where our heroes have had a couple years of practice and now we can make the tone a little darker and the action a little more visceral. Or, it’s expected of a multi-book saga that regularly jumps a year ahead with each edition, leading up to the big prophecy (Percy Jackson, Harry Potter).

The Fundamentals of a Good Timeskip

As requested by Anonymous!

Telltale signs of a dubious skip:

Audience is expected to care more about an undeveloped newcomer than the pre-existing cast, because the current cast does without explanation

Audience is “told” to accept Catastrophic Event without being “shown�� how and why it happened

Characters die, break-up, disappear, marry, change teams, or change entire personalities for ~drama~ and no other reason

The Book You Never Wrote was way more interesting than the future you brought us to

The new plot depends on Events Unwritten, but never shows or explains Events Unwritten

Timeskip only exists because the author is unable to make the leaps in logic themselves and hopes you won’t notice

The legacy of past heroes is trashed completely for More Story

Signs of a successful skip:

Characters we know and love are still themselves, just a little older and wiser

Characters that do change do so logically, within reason, and could have been extrapolated from the last publication

Radical changes and the new hellscape you threw your heroes into is given ample screen time to show “How tf we got here”

The new world doesn’t disregard or ignore the legacy and victory of past heroes

Absolutely nothing of import or unexpected happened in the interim, except time

Anyone who dies off-screen won the story by dying of old age, or some other respectful avenue (popular with aging mentors and old masters, usually when their actor also passes)

Whether your timeskip succeeds or fails depends entirely on, in my humble opinion, how much story you skip and sacrifice to make the jump, and how radical the changes are from the past to the future. And, to what degree the skip serves as a means to an end or the centerpiece of the new story.

Meaning that since you leave weeks, months, years, or decades unwritten, how interesting was the Book You Never Wrote, and how badly would audiences need to read it to understand the jump from A to B?

If I’m writing a ten-year skip and half my heroes have died, half have ended wonderful relationships, two kids have been born, a known hero has become a villain, and an entire city’s been destroyed… that is a *very* interesting story I wish I had the opportunity to read, because it sounds like every character I fell in love with is about to become unrecognizable and very frustrating to follow now that I don’t understand why they make the choices they do — *if* I’m never shown evidence to support the leaps in logic.

If I’m writing a ten-year skip and all that happens in the interim is a minor child character is now a tween with a pretty average life, or my super-powered heroes have had only mediocre rogues to battle, or a character who began in the mail room is now a middle manager at their boring job, then, yeah, we can skip all that jazz and get to the good stuff. This is usually the setup for your “next generation” skip for any genre.

Good timeskips also depend on how readily the characters accept and acknowledge the changes that have happened off-page, and how much the future story now depends on the information the audience never received. If your plot and your characters constantly reference and argue over the Book You Never Wrote, your audience won’t be pleased to not have read said book.

I’m going to use specific media here because the nature of a timeskip concerns entire plots and my usual vague examples don’t suffice. How you write and implement one is entirely up to you and each of these have their staunch defenders, I just don’t like them and I’m here to explain why. Hopefully if you’ve seen at least one of them, you can use them as a shining example of what (or what not) to do in your own work.

The fandoms in question:

The 100

Star Wars

Percy Jackson

Last Airbender/Legend of Korra

How to Train Your Dragon

The Little Mermaid

—

The 100

The timeskips in question are between seasons 2 and 3, and between seasons 4 and 5. The first timeskip is a couple months between seasons 2 and 3. After a huge conflict (and easily the best season of the show by a country mile), shifting alliances, enemy-of-my-enemy, the best couple-that-never-was, the season ends with protagonist Clark unable to let herself enjoy the spoils of war because of the crimes she committed to make it happen. She leaves behind all her friends to go be a hermit, including deuteragonist Bellamy, who is Not Happy about this decision.

The problem: In between seasons, Clark hasn’t changed much, but Bellamy sure has. He gets a girlfriend, develops an entire relationship, only for this girl to get fridged within the first 50 minutes or so of season 3. He takes her death super hard and, with Clark not there, spirals into a bit of a blind-faith fascist turning on all his friends and becoming nigh unrecognizable. Without seeing the growing relationship with the fodder girlfriend, without seeing how hard life has been for him without Clarke, all his choices, all his beliefs, all his pontificating sound completely foreign and out of character and he does not recover until it’s almost too late. As he’s the deuteragonist of the show, you can only take yelling at your TV for all his stupid and OOC decisions for so long, when it could have been done so much better.

The second damning timeskip is five whole years between seasons 4 and 5. Bellamy develops another unseen romance up in space, his sister becomes a bloodthirsty underground queen, and Clark devotes her entire life to raising a little girl she finds.

The problem: Clark cares a lot more about protecting the little girl than anything else, a choice audiences can’t empathize with because we’re still siding with the characters we’ve watched grow and suffer for four seasons, making Clarke an incredibly frustrating character to watch.

Five-year timeskips are fine. I think I’m in the minority in hating this decision by the writers. However, when your characters’ motivations change so radically without you being able to follow that development, making their new choices seem incredibly inconsistent with who they’re supposed to be, the disconnect is super strong. We’re being told at this point to care about these strangers over the existing cast without ever having been shown why.

Star Wars

Timeskip in question: Return of the Jedi to The Force Awakens. Enough time for Rey to look like a 20-something and, I believe, the exact same gap between the movies in the real world. The argument over Luke’s character has been beaten to death by now. We end Return of the Jedi with the promise of a galaxy in peace after decades of civil war between the Rebels and the Empire and the ultimate sacrifice from Anakin.

The problem: We open Force Awakens like the war never ended. There’s still stormtroopers, there’s still the Empire (though, now it’s called the First Order), there’s still Rebels rebelling. The happily ever after one would expect between Han and Leia is shattered because their kid went Dark Side. Their kid went Dark Side because… well, one side, the other side, and the unrevealed truth.

It’s less “Luke would never make these choices” and more “How do you expect audiences to believe Luke made these choices without seeing the pain and trauma inflicted on him to end up like this”. The casual fan only watches the episodic films. Luke ended one movie as a semi-optimistic war hero. He began the very next film jaded and traumatized enough to debate, and nearly go through with, murdering his nephew because of what he *might* do someday.

That anyone expected that to go over well was deluding themselves, but everyone knows these movies are a mess.

There’s also the disappointment in realizing all that Anakin lived and died for fell apart in less than 30 years. Who are these people calling themselves the First Order? Where did they get the funds, the resources, the platform to become as big a threat as they are? How did the Rebels fail so spectacularly at building a functioning government? How do they not have the funds, platform, and resources to buy better ships and equipment? How did no one realize they were hollowing out an entire planet to build another Death Star?

The Sequel Trilogy lost audiences when it refused to provide any explanations at all for *why* these changes happened. The movies don’t care about *how* Ben became Kylo, they just need you to accept that it happened. They don’t care *how* the First Order rose, just don’t look too closely or it all falls apart.

The skip between Empire Strikes Back to Return of the Jedi is also a bit sketchy, because Luke has done all his Jedi training off-screen and can just pull abilities out of nowhere, but the plot of Return of the Jedi doesn’t depend on having seen Luke grow.

Percy Jackson

I feel bad putting this here because it’s not nearly as egregious as the previous two, but because the original series was so good, these choices are that much more baffling. The timeskips in question: Sea of Monsters (2) to Titan’s Curse (3) and Last Olympian (5) to Lost Hero (6).

The books focus on a singular week or two per year, so Percy can age from 12 to 16 in time for the Great Prophecy by the end of the series. This series is filled with timeskips and unseen content, but the jump between books 2 and 3 is the most jarring. I just did a retrospective for both of them so if you happened to read that, I’m repeating myself a little.

The problem: At the end of SoM there is a huge shakeup in the realm of who will actually be the chosen one — a discarded chess piece has been revived and brought back onto the board. In the missing months, Percy has built an entire friendship and rapport with his would-be rival, and so many reunions were left unwritten between Thalia and the friends she left behind. It’s the depth of the missing content that really feels like they forgot to print a chapter in either book, particularly when she’s so important to the story.

Percy references quite a few times how good friends he and Thalia have become. Fantastic, on what page might I read that development, when the author spent quite a bit of time building up the presumption that you two would hate each other?

The other timeskip is the complete opposite. Last Olympian to Lost Hero is, I believe, only a month. Once again, we have a presumed happy ending and ultimate sacrifice completely torched for the sake of More Story. The original five-book saga culminates with the tragic death of a villain we’d watched for five whole books. His argument was the thesis of the first series.

The problem: As with Star Wars, everything that character died for is rendered mostly moot. There is evidence that his death meant something, in the positive changes seen in the lives of those that survived him, but he died preventing armageddon… and a month later Bigger Badder armageddon is on the rise.

I almost wish the timeskip here had been longer. A couple years, at the expense of aging up the heroes to their twenties. His legacy on the story is virtually nonexistent. When you look back at the horrible tragedy that was this kid’s life, all it amounted to, everything he fought for, everything he believed in and died for and lost friends for… bought only a month of peace.

The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra

Obviously, the timeskip in question is between these two series, about, what, sixty years? Last Airbender ends with, once again, the world at peace, ish, with lots of cleaning up to do, reparations to make, and governments to reshape. In the gap between series, almost everyone we knew has passed away, or aged out of being useful to the plot. Aang, of course, had to die so Korra could be born.

In the first season, because I’m reasonably confident all they planned was one season, the 60 year interim sees a lot of radical changes. Fan favorites die, the old ways are lost, the status quo is nothing like it used to be. So how do they get away with it?

Firstly, the show doesn’t begin with the main villains having already conquered Republic City and trashing everything the heroes fought for. The entire season is a crawl, then a plunge, toward disaster. They let you enjoy the fruits of the old characters’ labor, see the world that they built, before the new threat attempts to burn it down.

Secondly, because almost the entire original cast is dead or absent, there are no relationships sorely missing context, and there’s no *subversive* twists to what the audience could extrapolate from the ending of the old show.

LoK did make some radical changes to the world, but, crucially, it didn’t change the surviving core characters — we still have a known point of reference through which to view all the other changes. Katara is still Katara, she’s just older. Zuko is still Zuko, he’s just older. Katara didn’t become a persnickety, bitter bat and Zuko didn’t launch the Fire Nation Invasion II and return to his angsty ponytail-era.

It also helps that Korra is, like us, an outsider to this strange new world, a perfect vector through which the audience can ask questions and get answers on how, why, and when everything changed. LoK, unlike Star Wars, cared and thought about the *how* and the *why*.

If you’re going to write a story about the next generation without compromising the legacy of the old guard, Legend of Korra is a solid example of how to do it convincingly, respectfully, and entertainingly, even if it did drop the ball on some characters *cough*Sokka and Suki*cough*

How to Train your Dragon

But an even better example? How to Train Your Dragon to How to Train your Dragon 2. It’s been five years, a massive risk for your children’s animated fantasy series, but it’s also been almost five years of real-world time. Those who were Hiccup’s age when the first movie premiered are still Hiccup’s age when they head back to theaters. Not to mention the optional Netflix shows to help fill in the gaps.

Once again, there’s no *subversive* choices made with the relationships. Hiccup is still with Astrid and they’ve grown out of their awkward teenage phase. Their personalities haven’t radically changed either, only matured, the main group of heroes have had time to foster deeper bonds.

There’s no surprise children, no important characters who got killed off screen, and the changes to their homeland seem reasonable and logical given the time frame. A place that once feared dragons is now dedicated entirely to their preservation and conservation.

This is a timeskip that took advantage of every benefit of skipping time. The audience can very easily fill in the missing years with their imagination, because the jump from A to B makes perfect sense.

Frozen and Frozen II relied on the same mechanic of the audience growing with the characters with that one musical number. I’m not a fan of the execution of either of these movies, see this post about Frozen’s convolutions, but the execution of the skip itself is well done. All that’s happened in the interim is Elsa getting a little more comfortable being a person, and time has passed.

The Little Mermaid

The gap between Little Mermaid and Little Mermaid 2: Return to the Sea double-skips. First, it skips ahead to Ariel and Eric having an infant Melody, then about twelve years later to Melody being a tween and the new protagonist of the story.

Why it works: Melody is remarkably like her mother and rides the line between endearing and annoying very well and the plot depends on the skip happening at all – twelve years removed from the ocean and Melody has no idea her mother was a mermaid. Ariel and Eric (and Flounder) have grown to become wizened and worrisome parents and absolutely nothing remarkable happened unseen between the credits of the first movie and the second skip in the second movie. They get twelve years of peace, respecting the first movie’s legacy, and it’s through the actions of characters we see on screen that start jeopardizing everything.

—

Another feature I didn’t touch on earlier is that, by virtue of being a musical, the opening song to the Little Mermaid sequel efficiently catches audiences up on all the necessary exposition, all the old familiar faces, and where everyone is now in about 4 minutes. Frozen II does the same.

The Percy Jackson books also give a “previously on Percy Jackson” exposition speedrun at the start of books 2-5 and notes any important details that occurred in the missing months (save the glaring omissions detailed above).

If your time skip is just a plot device to get from A to Y, a well-handled exposition speedrun to catch everyone up won’t offend anyone, so long as you do it tastefully. If your skip is the centerpiece of the plot and the “how did we get here” is the big mystery, jarring your audience with the unexpected future on the opening pages is the point.

Do your best to avoid awkwardly having your characters state “X years have passed,” in dialogue because it’s always obvious and you can do better. Have somebody reference their upcoming birthday so audiences can do the math, or an anniversary. “X years have passed” cracks the immersion, as your characters don’t know or care that a time skip has occurred.

Or, if you’ve written a narrating style that talks directly to the audience, the narrator can just say “X months ago we did Y in the last book, reader, you remember how fun that was?” 

—

TL;DR, terrible timeskips happen, in my opinion, when the writers are disinterested with the interim and want to get to the good stuff without providing a logical jump to get there. Or, they happen when the time the story skips to jeopardizes where it came from without explanation. Whether that’s undermining the legacy of the original hero, ruining relationships and killing fan favorites for *subversion points* and *drama*, or creating a world so far removed from what audiences expected that they’re left confused watching their heroes make baffling decisions based on development they’re promised did happen, but is never shown. It’s one thing if you take your wide-eyed hero and toss him into a bleak future where everyone’s shocked by his pessimistic outlook, it’s completely different tossing your hero into a bleak future and none of his friends seem to care.

[rosanna-writer]

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (9/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~3.6k

I'm not quite sure how to tag a trigger warning for this, so just a note that in this chapter, Rhys uses his daemati ability to force someone to vomit.

Some dialogue and the riddle are taken directly from ACOTAR book one.

Read on AO3 or you can find the ninth chapter below the readmore.

ch. 1 - the altar is my hips | ch 2. - an arrowhead leading us home | ch. 3 - by the way, i just may like some explanations | ch. 4 - can't not think of all the cost | ch. 5 - honey i rose up from the dead | ch. 6 - this mad, mad love makes you come running | ch. 7 - therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you | ch. 8 - it's not his price to pay | ch. 9 - is it chill that you're in my head?

There was a note of anxiety mixed in with everything else that leaked through Rhys's shields this time. My own heart hammering seemingly in time with his and my stomach churning, I paced the cell and counted my steps in a vain attempt to occupy myself. I nearly ripped apart the pallet of hay just to have something to do with my hands. Wisely, the guards hadn't left me anything sharp, but I longed for a rock or something I could use to scrape artwork onto the wall and settle my mind.

Eventually, Rhys's side of the bond quieted, and I suspected he'd fallen asleep. It seemed cruel to wake him if Amarantha had wrung him out so thoroughly. I left him alone.

When the dungeon was this silent, I felt the echo of the stag's magic inside me more strongly. It hadn't faded the slightest bit since Calanmai. The few times I managed to stop worrying about Rhys, my thoughts drifted back to the new immortality I'd been left with. If I ever got out from Under the Mountain, I'd watch my family get old and die while I stayed looking exactly the same. The few decades I had left with them seemed impossibly long to me now, but in a few centuries, it would feel like the blink of an eye. Wrapping my mind around it was nearly enough to give me a headache.

When Nuala and Cerridwen appeared an hour later, I nearly wept with relief that I was finally getting a change of scenery. I might have gone mad otherwise.

Completely silent again, they brought me to the same bathing chamber and repeated the process of stripping me down and painting me, this time extending the paint all the way down to my fingertips. The twins couldn't possibly know it, but the paint would obscure the tattoo if the glamour failed. And again, I let them work.

But this time, the bundle of fabric they held out for me could barely be called a dress for completely new reasons. And I really, really wished Rhys had warned me better.

Thin panels of gauzy white fabric barely covered my breasts. They flowed into a single panel at the front and back of my legs, secured by a gold belt that didn't give me much confidence I'd stay covered if I moved the wrong way.

Nuala brushed makeup over my face as Cerridwen did my hair, coiling it around a gold diadem she placed on my head. I took deep breaths and tried to curb my rising panic as they worked. By the time they finished, I was nearly unrecognizable. Rhys had mentioned potentially dressing me up during our first conversation in my cell, so this didn't come as a complete surprise—it was not knowing the full details of what was happening that was eating at me.

"You look horrible in white."

The twins faded into the shadows as I turned to see Rhys leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and his face twisted in disgust. He was so still and silent that I suspected he'd been watching me for a while.

I expected to see hunger as his eyes swept down my body and he took in all the exposed skin, but there was nothing but revulsion. I didn't mind; it was better than being leered at. And then I realized I'd only ever seen him slide his hands into his pockets when he was making a show of something.

I saw through the act—Rhys was nervous.

I just raised my brows, resisting the urge to cross my arms and attempt to cover myself. He'd seen all of it before anyway. "Should I take that to mean you weren't the one who picked this out?" I said, my voice sharp.

"I was. You looking horrible and making a mockery of your so-called virginity was the point." I bit back a retort that I could have figured that much out for myself and just waited for him to explain. He didn't seem the least bit frantic, which could only mean we weren't in a rush. He continued, "We're exploiting the loophole that you never had to be sober when you heard the riddle."

That explained the instruction not to drink anything that he didn't hand to me personally—I understood where he was going with this. "But you're not actually giving me anything stronger than water?" Somehow, the words came out calm and not like the desperate plea for reassurance they were.

"Precisely," Rhys said, and I let his apparent confidence steady me. It might have been an act, but it was a good one. "The evening's entertainment will be humiliating the drunk human. Amarantha will taunt you, saying it's such a shame you can't handle faerie wine because the riddle was so simple. I couldn't see another way she'd give you something easy."

The revealing dress made it obvious enough what sort of humiliation was in store for me. I'd force myself through it if it meant another shot at the riddle—I could guess what it had cost Rhys to change Amarantha's mind so quickly, and I wouldn't let that go to waste.

There was just one problem. "Rhys, I— I've never actually been drunk before," I said, cheeks burning.

His eyes went wide with shock, and he swore under his breath. Perhaps I'd said the one thing that could shred his cool demeanor to ribbons. "How old are you, Feyre?"

"Nineteen." I still didn't quite know him well enough to read all the emotions that crossed his face in quick succession, but now really wasn't the time to discuss this in detail. We had work to do. "But that doesn't matter, I'll be able to pretend. I just might need a bit of help."

He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly gathering himself before looking at me again. "I won't let you fail."

I considered that for a moment, wondering if it was just reassurance or there was something else he was getting at. "If the performance isn't convincing will you…step in?" It was vague, but I wasn't sure how exactly to ask.

"Step in?"

"Take over with your daemati abilities. Unless…the Night Court won't let you do that to me?"

Rhys stilled. Voice soft, he said, "You would trust me enough to do that?"

"Yes. Without hesitation." I thought it was obvious—if I didn't trust him, I wouldn't have been nearly so composed after being forced with no explanation into a dress that left me so bare and exposed.

His throat bobbed. He reached for me, then glanced at the paint on my body and dropped his hand, as if thinking better of smearing it. "I thought you might hate me for planning this without asking. I wanted to explain, but she was….demanding last night. I managed to steer the conversation back to the riddle, and I took the opportunity while it was there."

If he'd done the opposite—given up a potential advantage to spare my feelings—I might actually have hated him. Flinching away from hard choices would damn us all.

"I can handle anything as long as you're on my side."

"You shouldn't have to."

I felt myself tense up—that was a dangerous line of thinking, and one I was too familiar with. For a moment, it was as if I was back in the cabin, slinging a quiver over my shoulder even though I shouldn't have to be the one to feed my family. My hands seemed to curl into fists of their own accord.

We would not fall into that particular trap today.

"You didn't answer my question. Will you be able to take over if I need you to?"

Something in my voice made Rhys stand a little straighter, and I caught the briefest flash of the soldier he'd been centuries ago, before becoming High Lord. I'd never seen it before, but it seemed to be exactly what we needed from him to get through this.

"I will. Daemati abilities aren't connected to the Night Court."

It was exactly the answer I'd been hoping for, and a bit more of my nervousness faded. I even managed a smile. "Then let's solve a riddle and get home tonight."

I watched the smirk bloom on his face as he ceased to be the male I knew and became the Lord of Nightmares. The mask was firmly on as he purred, "The festivities await. Allow me the honor of escorting you."

I followed Rhys through the halls, walking close behind him but not touching. With him near, the mating bond seemed to uncoil again. Despite being about to enter a lion's den wearing nothing but scraps of too-sheer fabric, I hardly felt any fear.

It didn't keep me from shivering in the cold, though.

My feet were half-frozen from the stone floor, but I gritted my teeth and waited for them to go numb. It was better this way—no one would think I could possibly be a threat if I couldn't run. I just kept my hands at my sides and attempted to look as unbothered as I could. As we passed through the doors, I opened a crack in my shields for Rhys.

The same music from when I'd first arrived Under the Mountain was playing in the throne room again. It was as crowded as I'd ever seen it, though everyone gave Rhys—and by extension, me—a wide berth.

There was something satisfying about being the only one in Rhys's orbit, in a strange, instinctual way. It was probably just due to the mating bond, but I liked being the only one close enough to touch him in a crowded room. At the very least, it made all the gawking easier to ignore.

I followed him to the dais where Amarantha sat, Tamlin at her side as always. I half-listened as Rhys bowed and wished her a good evening, just watched Tamlin for a reaction again. He continued staring straight ahead as if he'd been turned to stone. Coward.

I schooled my features to look faintly bored as Amarantha took in the sight of me. She broke into a cold grin. "Rhysand, you must get your eye for fashion from your lowborn whore of a mother," she said.

I didn't fully understand the insult to his mother, but Rhys just inclined his head and said, "I'm flattered you think so." Polished as ever, he sounded as if it didn't bother him in the slightest. But I felt the truth of his rage through the bond.

"Feyre dear, turn around so we can appreciate the view from the back as well," Amarantha said, making a show of holding her hand out so the ring with Jurian's eye pointed at me. I bit back a retort about how kind it was of her to ensure that everyone here had an unobstructed view.

I stepped out from behind Rhys and did as she asked. He took advantage of the brief pause in the conversation to slip into my mind and answer the question he must have heard. She was an extraordinary seamstress.

When it became clear she wasn't getting much of a reaction from anyone, Amarantha dismissed us with a flick of her hand and an irritated, "Enjoy my party."

Rhys walked over to a table laden with food and drink, and I followed at his heels like a dog. The faeries that had been standing around it cleared out quickly. He reached for a bottle, seemingly at random, and filled a goblet.

"Wine?" he said, offering it to me. In my head, he added, It's safe. I shook my head anyway, trusting he understood I was just doing it for show. He pressed the goblet closer to me. When he spoke again, Rhys dropped his voice low in that way that had heat pooling in my lower abdomen, even though it was very much not the time for that. "Try it. I think you'll like it."

I gave him one wary look before snatching the goblet from him and chugging it. The liquid inside tasted of nothing but water. As I swallowed every last drop, I tried to ignore the chuckles of the faeries who were watching us. When I lowered the goblet, I wiped at my lips with the back of my hand. The smear of liquid from the goblet was dark red.

But my head was still perfectly clear.

I forced out a giggle that sounded nothing like me at all. It must have been convincing because there was a flicker of Rhys's approval down the bond as he poured another glass. But instead of passing it to me, he placed his free hand on my lower back.

I let him herd me towards a chair and perch me in his lap. It was a relief to finally get my feet off the cold floor, and more than anything I wanted to press every inch of skin to him I could, even if it was just to leech some warmth. I kept my back straight, shrinking from his touch, but it was so damned difficult not to give into the urge to do the opposite.

As much as I appreciate hearing those thoughts from you, please refrain from shouting them at me when we both need to concentrate.

Even in my head, his voice sounded a bit strained. I was seated too close to his knee to feel if he was hard or not, and before I could dwell too much on that particular line of thought, he was pressing the goblet to my lips again. I let him pour water down my throat until I'd drained all of it.

When he lowered the goblet, I took in the stares and the giggles from the partygoers. Amarantha was leaning over and whispering something to Tamlin, whose blank expression hadn't changed. I didn't want Tamlin to want me, but it enraged me to see no signs of remorse for starting the chain of events that led me being a plaything in his worst enemy's lap.

I held onto that anger as Rhys wrapped a possessive arm around my waist, let it help me look indignant instead of comfortable. I went stiff, and he chuckled in a way that sounded so utterly unlike him that I shivered.

But the discomfort I felt from his side of the bond was the farthest thing from amused.

Feyre. Amarantha wants to make you dance while you hear the riddle. Will you be able to? The music will pick up soon.

Rhys didn't need to specify what kind of dancing it was. I didn't hesitate to say, Yes.

His mind wrapped around mine again, just as it had when he'd forced me to lick his shoes. The apology didn't come in words, just another wave of feeling down the bond, wrapped up in his own sense of self-hatred for not preventing this and territorial anger at everyone leering at me.

I didn't blame him in the slightest.

The strange, otherworldly music got louder, and that was my cue. Rhys said something smug that was more for the benefit of the crowd than me, but I was so focused on keeping up appearances that I barely heard it.

I stood up, trying to look unsteady on my feet. Another spark of approval down the bond told me it was working. The increased stares made me flush deeper, which could only help make this convincing.

I turned to face Rhys as he spread his legs wide and leaned back in the chair. He tucked a hand behind his head, and the lazy smile on his face might have been the most obnoxious thing I'd ever seen in my life.

I pretended to stumble, reaching out and grabbing the top of the chair to steady myself in a way that pushed my breasts towards his face like an embarrassing accident. Rhys laughed, and others followed.

My focus narrowed to just his violet eyes, and everything else fell away. I canted my hips towards his and started to move, letting myself believe we were the only two people in the world. The mask on his face didn't slip, but I saw the truth of him under it.

His mind curled more tightly around mine. I didn't have words for what passed through the bond in that moment, but I could sense the way his entire being was poised to catch me if I fell. I might be the one dancing, but we were in this together.

Feyre, you look too coordinated. Move less in time with the music before they suspect something.

I adjusted as he said, and another flicker of relief down the bond let me know it was enough. The music was already off-kilter, distinctly faerie in a way that set me on edge. I wasn't sure how much longer I'd have to keep this up.

Do they expect me to vomit, Rhys?

Possibly.

Then use your abilities to make me. It will be suspicious if I don't.

Thank the Mother, Rhys didn't hesitate. His talons plunged deeper into me, taking complete control. I couldn't move of my own volition—breathing, blinking, and even the beating of my heart only happened exactly as he willed it.

I was an observer in my own body as he moved my legs in shaking steps around to the side of the chair. There was no nausea as invisible hands bent me over, just the burn of bile Rhys forced up from my stomach. I threw up on the floor.

Amarantha was saying something, but it was a struggle to focus on her words and not the sour taste left in my mouth. But as soon as the thought crossed my mind, the taste disappeared—also Rhys's doing. A few more wobbly footsteps, and I was standing between his legs again, facing the crowd.

She's getting ready to give you the riddle. I'll keep hold of your body so you can focus on what she's saying. Is that alright?

Yes. Thank you.

My ass jerked backwards towards his groin as I writhed again, clearly on display. A few faeries here and there looked faintly sick, but most seemed amused. Amarantha smiled right at me and said, "Don't let it be said I don't hold up my end of a bargain, Feyre. Here's the riddle I promised you." Her grin went wider than I'd ever seen it as she added, "It's a shame faerie wine is too strong for you to remember it tomorrow."

I cleared my mind, focusing and memorizing every word as she spoke, even as Rhys made my hips move in slow, inelegant circles.

There are those who seek me a lifetime but never we meet,

And those I kiss but who trample me beneath ungrateful feet.

At times I seem to favor the clever and the fair,

But I bless all those who are brave enough to dare.

By large, my ministrations are soft-handed and sweet,

But scorned, I become a difficult beast to defeat.

For though each of my strikes lands a powerful blow,

When I kill, I do it slow…

As she sat back and laughed, I'd never felt more useless. Rhys had said this was supposed to be simple, yet I couldn't think of anything that resembled what she'd described, not in the slightest. Mother above, if this was supposed to be easy, I shuddered to think what else she'd had in mind.

Rhys's hands were on my waist again as he pulled me back onto his lap. I let his touch ground me. His talons pulled out of my mind gently, returning the control back to me without it being so sudden I'd react involuntarily and give the ruse away.

Despite having no idea what the answer could be, I let myself bask in the victory for a moment. Just having the riddle in my head meant that Rhys and I had won, and we'd done it right under Amarantha's nose.

Perhaps Amren had been right when she said my mate and I should be unstoppable together.

This time, the brush of Rhys's mind against mine felt like a friendly cat rubbing affectionately against my legs. I took that to mean he'd heard my thoughts and agreed. Now it was just a matter of enduring the rest of the party. All things considered, it didn't seem like too much of an ordeal if it meant I could stay this close to Rhys for a few more hours.

I turned the riddle over in my head as Amarantha went back to taunting Tamlin instead of me. Rhys continued to smirk and poured a few more glasses of "wine" down my throat. I did my best to look like I was struggling not to fall over.

I'd truly thought the worst was over until the throne room doors slammed open. The crowd murmured as the Attor dragged in a sobbing faerie and dropped him right in front of the dais. The faerie didn't even get up off the ground.

"I caught the summer lordling attempting to escape through the caves to the Spring Court lands," the Attor said. It sounded positively gleeful, its tail twitching with excitement like a dog's. "What would you like done with him, my queen?"

Amarantha's eyes snapped to Rhys as she commanded, "Find out why, so I can decide."

I'd been a fool to think the night was anywhere close to over.

[terriblepersongreatseamonster]

I’ll be honest, when Kylo first meets Rey the whole thing from him knocking her out to her waking up restrained and having their first face-to-face interaction has always felt a bit rapey to me.  I think it’s one of the big reasons I’ve been staunchly anti-Reylo for so long.  However, having now fallen to the Reylo side and rewatched the movies from that perspective, I have a different take on that first meeting and their subsequent interactions.

First, before I dive into everything, I want to address the age gap.  I wish Rey hadn’t been 19 when they met.  It just makes the whole ten-year age gap a little hard to stomach (even though it is a long, long time ago in a galaxy far away, and Ben has the emotional maturity of a 13-year-old).  I wish she’d been a little older, or that the gap hadn’t been so huge if they were going to insist she be 19.  Plus, how does that whole sharing-a-soul thing work?  Did Ben have a complete soul for the first decade of his life, and then as soon as Rey popped into existence his soul ripped in half and yeeted itself across the galaxy to find her?  (There’s probably an actual official answer to this particular question, but I haven’t really looked into it yet.)

Okay, let’s go back to Ben.  This was the son of Han and Leia, and they are two of the biggest deals in the New Republic.  They love Ben, but they don’t have a lot of time to be parents.  Anyone who’s had parents who were in leadership positions knows how much time is sacrificed to be available to others.  Ben spent the beginning of his life sharing his parents with the entire galaxy.  Plus, roughly around the time he came to be, Leia was off training to be a Jedi.  I’m not sure if she was still training after he was born, but from everything I’ve found, she quit her training sometime around then.  The woman might be a badass, but there are only so many hours in a day and so many places she can be at once.  

There’s no doubt in my mind that Ben was raised to have manners.  He’s the kid of leaders, he was probably in etiquette lessons before he could fully form sentences.  

I have no doubt that Ben witnessed his parents showing each other physical affection, but who knows how often that happened.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Han and Leia spent more time apart than together because of their roles in the New Republic.  On top of that, I’ve always felt that there was a layer of slight aggressiveness to their relationship.  It’s not bad, but it could be very confusing to a little kid.  This is what Ben spends the first decade of his life observing.  

Then, right as he reaches the age of ten, he gets sent off to hang out with his bachelor uncle to learn to be a Jedi.  I know that in the now non-canon material, Luke was married, but in the current canon, it seems that his marriage exists only in his dreams.  Given the Jedi issues with love and attachments, I sincerely doubt that Ben and his fellow padawans were given any kind of sex ed or instruction on how to treat someone they might be attracted to.  

So, Ben becomes Kylo, and while there are women who work with him, none of them are his soulmate.  He has zero dating experience and he only has his memories of his parents’ relationship to give him any idea of how to treat his soulmate.  I think he knew from very early on that the other half of his soul was out there, somewhere in the galaxy.  

By the time we reach The Force Awakens, Kylo is 29, and barely holding it together.  Ben is still in there, fighting hard to break free.  When he reaches Takodana in the search for the map, I would not be surprised if he sensed the missing piece of his soul and that’s how he found Rey so easily.  He was literally drawn to her like a magnet. 

When she starts shooting at him, he flicks away the blaster bolts.  He could easily have bounced them right back at her causing wound or death, or even stopped the blasts as soon as they started (much like how he did with Poe at the beginning of the movie).  He takes a surprisingly long time to actually put a stop to it.  And you get this sense that he’s trying to figure out what to do with her.  He observes her and even paces around her frozen form.  The guy is huge and intimidating, it would be enough to terrify anyone.  And Rey is already on edge from what happened at Maz’s castle.  

When Kylo knocks her out, he doesn’t just let her collapse onto the ground.  He’s right there catching her as she falls and then he sweeps her up in his arms, rather than having his underlings take over.  If he’d thought she was just some random girl, this action wouldn’t make sense.  I think, at that moment, he wanted to be as physically close to his missing piece as possible.

She comes to, restrained in this terrifyingly unfamiliar place, and the big bad of the galaxy is watching her.  He’s not touching her, he’s not even that close, but he is there and he’s still observing.  Still trying to figure her out.  As soon as she makes the comment about the mask, he pulls it off and they’re finally face-to-face.  When you watch, there is almost a subtle Gollum/Smeagol type fight going on inside him.  Ben is there, fighting against Kylo, and you end up with a very tense scene.  

Kylo doesn’t make a great choice using the words, “I can take whatever I want” and then immediately probing her mind.  Yes, this is non-consensual and scary.  But as soon as she tells him to get out of her mind, I think Ben takes over briefly because he doesn’t even question, just obeys.  He’s trying so hard to get a read on her.  And then the Kylo part of him takes over and tries so hard to pull the information from her.  

There’s an episode of Doctor Who where the Doctor is reading Madame de Pompadour’s mind, and she starts reading his.  He’s shocked by this and she tells him, “A door once opened may be stepped through in either direction.”  This is exactly what happens between Rey & Ben/Kylo.  

Also, I just want to point out that there is a big difference between Poe and Rey’s interrogations.  Kylo is aggressive and angry with Poe, but he’s much more restrained with Rey.  In fact, by the time their interaction ends, he’s absolutely shaken by how Rey has responded, and you can see the fear in his eyes as he realizes he’s experiencing something completely new.  Rey can read him almost easier than he can read her.

Throughout the rest of the movie, their interactions are intense.  Kylo throws her against a tree.  And then he fights with Finn.  He screams and rages against the other man,  He beats Finn, and tries to take the lightsaber, but the saber flies past him and into Rey’s hands.  Ben almost manages to surface.  The rage is gone, and you can see how intrigued he is by this new development.  The way he looks at her is a complete shift from the way he looked at Finn.   Their lightsaber duel is not nearly as brutal as it should be considering the fact that he’s far more experienced with the blade.  He could use his powers to disarm her, could break her, and he doesn’t.  He fights with her, and it’s like he’s trying to get a read on just how skilled she really is.  He even tries to convince her to let him teach her.  That’s not something you say to someone you hate or want to kill.    When she wounds him, he just keeps getting back up until the earth splits and physically separates them from each other.  

He lets her go.  As wounded as he is, he’s still a very strong force user, and I think it’s very possible he could’ve pulled her back, could’ve dropped her in the chasm.  He could’ve ended things right there and then, but he doesn’t.  

From the first time he and Rey lock eyes on each other, he never looks at her like he looks at anyone else.  The anger, the hatred, all of it isn’t there when he looks at her.  There’s fascination, annoyance, frustration, and by the time we get into Last Jedi there are the beginnings of love in his gaze.  She’s his missing piece.  His soul is complete when he’s interacting with her.  

Kylo is barely there at all when he interacts with her.  Their first soul bond, he tries to order her to bring him Skywalker, but you can tell the order is half-hearted at best, and he immediately drops his hand and you see the shame in his face.  I suspect he’s been beating himself up about how he interrogated her, and realizes he was just about to pull the same shit again.  

Ben can’t fully break free, but he’s still there.  When he slips the glove off and they touch, that’s all Ben.  Kylo isn’t there at all.  (And then Luke had to break in and ruin a perfect moment.) He never denies her accusations that he’s a monster, and even sits quietly and listens when she pours out the whole story about what happened in the cavern.  His actions and behaviors with her are the closest we get to see Ben Solo for the majority of the trilogy.  

At his heart, Ben wants to be the kind of man he knows Rey deserves and I really do think you see him making a genuine effort to become that, even if the road to get there is rocky.  They share a soul, and I think it’s tearing both of them apart for the majority of the trilogy because they can’t seem to figure out how to get on the same page.  

I think Kylo/Ben was wrong for how he behaved at the beginning, and I'm not trying to make excuses for him. However, I do think he genuinely regretted his behavior and tried to be better.

[leggerefiore]

cw: fox god au, fluff, poly (ingo/reader, emmet/reader) zoroark hybrids, Emmet content is light

It had been weighing on your mind ever since you had met the two fox gods in their rural, isolated village. They both appeared young in their Zoroark forms and their human ones, too, but it was obvious they had been around for over two hundred years. That was, after all, when your past life had fallen. Even so, however, they were obviously older than that.

Asking them would have been the obvious solution, but they both seemed genuinely unsure. You had actually asked Emmet who could only shrug and say that it had been a long time. Ingo had agreed with his thoughts. Being around for so many centuries, it would only make sense that eventually you would stop keeping count. It still made you curious.

You managed to capture Ingo as he rested on the veranda, watching as the garden began to bloom with greenery. Spring had fully come, bringing warmth and colour. You sat beside him, offering a cool cup of barley tea for him. He gave you a gentle glance, fluffy tail swishing lightly. A light breeze blew through the area. Everything was utterly peaceful now. How they went about bringing you back into their life would never be something you would agree with. You did feel happiest with them.

“What's your earliest memory?” you asked him, wondering if that could give you any idea just how far back their lives went. Ingo brought his hand to his chin and hummed in thought for a moment.

“I suppose it was scaring off a Fearow that had tried to attack Emmet after he got injured during a hunt,” he answered with a tone of nostalgia, “He looked so afraid, and I felt myself completely protective of him.” You could not see Ingo filled with such aggression. In all the time you had spent with them, he always appeared to be the more passive of the two.

“… Anything with humans?” you tried again. Attire and building structures could give you a better idea. His face darkened.

“I do believe those stories would be quite depressing,” he shook his head, “There is no need to taint such a pretty day with them.” With his reply, he brought the chilled beverage to his lips and drank it. You sighed. Their weariness towards humans would have had to originate from somewhere. You watched the garden fill with playful Zorua kits. They chased after bugs and each other.

“I've decided you are half a millennia old,” you nodded, “You and Emmet are old men, after all.” Emmet said that himself. It was not a rare response for him to refer to himself as an old man. Ingo sighed.

“… We were only alive for a few decades before meeting you,” he continued, “Emmet and I had never taken a mate before you, nor had we settled down our shrine location.” You turned to him, a bit in awe. They had somewhat regaled to you as to how your past life had met them. It seemed overly romantic. What with you taking in a Zoroark form Emmet on death's door and nursing him back to health. They distrusted humans by that point, but you had become their only exception. You began giggling, catching his attention once more.

“You two really mated for life, huh?” you wondered why they never gave up waiting on your reincarnation to find another mate. If you were their first, you supposed they had no interest in anyone else at all.

“Truthfully, I was not entirely on board with the idea of having a human as a mate,” Ingo's face was bright red as his ears pressed against his head, “I believed you to be Emmet's passing fad, but his love for you was strong. Your kindness won me over, too…” Your chest grew warm at his words. Reaching over, you grasped his hand tightly and rested your head on his shoulder, the silken fabric of his robes cool to your skin. He grasped your hand back and watched the garden at your side.

“Verrrry true,” Emmet suddenly called out from behind you both, startling you apart, “Brother was convinced you were playing us! I told him you were earnest.” The younger fox god's arms came around you, his tail wagging quickly. “I loved you all along,” he cooed and pecked a kiss on your cheek, “Unlike him.” Ingo rolled his eyes and took another drink of his tea.

“… By that, he means he enjoyed spending his ruts with you most,” the older twin snarked back.

“He says that like he didn't cry and scratch at our bedroom door before becoming your second mate,” Emmet stuck his tongue out at his brother. Ingo looked mortified.

Soon, the garden's peace ended as two brothers battled each other. You watched with a small smile on your face.

This shrine truly had become your home.

[accio-halley]

The Sun Will Rise

PART 2

Remus Lupin × reader

contains mature content

tw: lots of angst, some cursing, alcohol, smoking, no smut..YET :')

Word count: 2100+ish

Part 1

Remus walked back to his apartment in a complete haze, not even noticing the joyful people on the streets or the world around him. He had just found the Potter’s, two of his very best friends, home in ruins and heard the news that the couple had been murdered. And after a quick conversation with Albus Dumbledore, learned that his other dear friend, Sirius, had been arrested for murder of Peter and betrayal of James and Lily. And Remus felt useless, he had been locked away in his werewolf state during the full moon the previous night.

His head felt like it was spinning. As he lit a cigarette to help him stop his nerves from shaking, he couldn't help the thoughts that were rushing through his head.

What would he do now?

Who would he be with?

How would he cope?

“This isn't real..." He mumbled to himself as he continued to walk, his mind racing.

Remus reached home and stumbled inside, his mind still a complete blur. He had to get away from his thoughts, and the only way that he knew how to do that was by getting incredibly drunk as quickly as possible.

He didn't even take his coat or shoes off before he grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey and started to down it. He had to get away from the pain.

Remus didn't care what people thought of him now. The love of his life was gone, and so were his best friends. Earlier, he had felt like he was going to burst into tears, but now he just wanted to drown those feelings with alcohol. He didn’t want to feel a thing.

Remus kept on drinking, barely able to think about anything else. He just wanted the pain to stop, and this was the only way that he could come close to doing so. Every time he drank, the words that haunted his mind went away. Every time he smoked, he was able to forget for a moment that his life had fallen apart. He spent the rest of that day on a drunken bender and chain smoked like a freight train.

The next day was spent very similarly. He immediately began drinking as soon as he was out of bed. That afternoon, he received a letter.

With his heart racing, he quickly snatched the letter and opened it up. He read it over a few times, struggling to focus his eyes long enough to actually understand the words that were staring back at him. He hadn't considered a memorial service for Lily and James- the thought had been too foreign and painful for him to bear. As much as he didn’t want to, he knew that he had to attend. He had to honor their memory and say goodbye.

Remus tried his best to sober up after the drunken bender he had been on. He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water in his face. He looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize himself. His facial hair hadn’t been trimmed in weeks, his hair a shaggy brown mess, his hazel eyes were heavily lidded, tired, and devoid of any emotion. It was as if he had aged a decade in a matter of days. It was no surprise, really. After all that he had been through.

He took a deep breath and looked away from the mirror. He couldn't stand to see that face anymore. But Remus knew that he had to get his shit together and get ready for the memorial service.

It felt like an eternity since Remus had taken a shower and even made any attempt at looking decent. After a shower, he dug through his wardrobe and chose some of his nicest clothes he owned for a funeral. Black pants, black jacket, black shirt. He combed his hair for the first time in a week. He was no where near prepared for this, for the memorial service of the two people that were the closest to him, but he couldn’t miss it.

Taking a deep breath, Remus walked out of his bedroom and towards the door. He didn't have much time to waste before the memorial. He had to get to it and say goodbye. Just say goodbye.

Remus walked into the church where the memorial service was being held and was amazed by the amount of people that were there. There was not very many empty seats remaining in the chapel. He quickly took a seat towards the back, not wanting to attract any attention to himself.

He knew that he must look awful- and the looks that some people shot him certainly confirmed it. He had no idea how he was going to get through this. He was tired of being the strong one, but he was also tired of being the weak one. He was just tired. Tired of everything. Tired of life.

Remus tried his best to keep it together as the memorial service underway, the tears pricking at his eyes and his heart breaking at every moment. He was overwhelmed by the emotions that were running through his body, struggling not to break down in front of everyone. He had never had to say goodbye to anyone in this sense before... and now he was saying goodbye to two of the most important people in his life. It felt like his heart was being ripped out, breaking open, and spilling out onto the church floor.

Remus's heart faltered and dropped to his stomach as he recognized a familiar, beautiful face. It felt like the world had came to a screeching halt around him. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, with her familiar pale blonde hair and kind smile. Fair, porcelain skin and those emerald green eyes that he remembered so well. She was a radiant beam of sunshine in the dreary, dark, rainstorm he called life. There, in the front of the church, was Pansy.

As Remus looked at her, he wanted to walk over and talk to her so badly. His heart longed for her so badly. It had been so long, so many weeks, months, years. He wanted to see her. He wanted to see her smile and her brilliant green gaze on him. He wanted to hear her melodic laugh and her sweet voice. Pansy was dressed in a beautiful black dress that contrasted her pale skin beautifully. She had aged over the past few years she had been away, but she was as beautiful as ever. Even as she weeped over their fallen friends.

Yet, Remus couldn't find the courage to face her at the end of the memorial service. He wanted nothing more than to go to her and comfort her.

When the memorial service was over, Remus watched her as if he was in a trance- her beauty and elegance was stunning compared to the way he looked. They had both changed in the time since they had last seen each other, but Pansy still looked as stunning as the first time that he met her. He could see the sorrow on her face as she mourned the loss of two of their friends.

Remus’ focus on Pansy was broke as Professor McGonogall approached him.

“Oh, Remus, I am so sorry.” His former professor cried as she pulled Remus into a hug.

Remus was frozen as she pulled him into the hug. He blinked a few times before registering what his former professor has said. The unexpected embrace broke his heart even more.

"Professor... you're here..." Remus said, his words barely coming out of his mouth as he returned the hug.

"I'm so sorry." She said.

Remus barely realized her words, his feelings of sorrow and grief spilling out all over again.

“Thank you.” Remus murmured.

When Professor McGonogall walked away, Pansy was behind her waiting to speak to Remus.

Remus froze. His world stopped.

"Remus," Pansy muttered, her voice wavering as she stepped towards him. "It’s so good to see you..."

He couldn't believe that she was talking to him again. It had been so long since he had even laid eyes on her, yet the familiarity of her voice just swept him away. It sent butterflies crazy in his stomach and goosebumps over his flesh.

Remus cleared his throat, his heart thudding in his chest.

Remus was overwhelmed with a flood of emotions. The devastation of the events that had taken place.

James and Lily dead.

Sirius in Azkaban for betraying them.

And now Pansy was back.

He was overwhelmed with a flood of emotions, and he just couldn't believe that he was seeing her. Pansy was back, standing right in front of him after all this time. After everything that had happened.

Remus felt like the world was spinning, and his heart was pounding in his chest like never before. He didn't know what to say. He felt too overwhelmed to say anything at all. He has no clue what to say to her.

You have to say something. Anything, you idiot!

Pansy’s heart broke as she took in Remus’ state. He looked very weathered, tired, sad, broken. His hair shaggy, his facial hair grown out, his normally soft, kind green eyes were tired and bleak. He looked like he had aged so much in the past two years Pansy was away at university. He was only twenty one but he had lived a lifetime of sadness, heartbreak, and devastation. He had become a broken man.

"It's... good to see you too, Pansy..." Remus replied, his voice even sounding hollow.

"I... uh..." Pansy started, her voice shaking. "I'm so glad you came."

Remus gave her a small, weak smile.

The pain in Remus’ eyes was apparent, the look of sheer heartbreak as he stood in front of her. He felt so inferior to her. It appeared that over the past two years, Pansy seemed to be thriving, living her best life, and as beautiful as ever. While Remus continued to live in the past and merely exist each day, not truly living his life.

"I've missed you, Remus," Pansy said, her voice uneven, “It is so good to see you again.”

She hesitantly placed a comforting hand on his shoulder which caused his heart to thud even harder, his stomach twisting in knots. He felt lightheaded, as if he might just pass out right there in the church.

"I've missed you too, Pansy..." He replied weakly.

“Would you like to… I don’t know… Catch up?” Pansy asked stiffly.

"Yes... I would." Remus whispered.

He was still too overwhelmed to say much. He just wanted her to be close to him again.

He wanted her to hold him. Love him. Comfort him. He wanted her to make him feel safe in the world again. She had always done it in the past, as his best friend, but now he needed her even more than he ever had before. He loved her and he couldn’t deny his feelings any longer.

“Where would you like to go?” Pansy asked.

She had no where to stay. She was in town for the memorial, her apartment was hours away in the city where she was studying at university.

"We could go to my apartment?" Remus suggested nervously, “I have a sofa I can sleep on. You could sleep in my bed.”

He had to be careful with his words, not wanting Pansy to think that he was trying to take advantage of the situation. He just wanted her to stay with him. He wanted to be with her. Alone with her. He was feeling too overwhelmed by everything to even think about going out. He just wanted to go back with her. To catch up. To talk. To be close.

He just wanted her to hold him. Love him. Support him. Comfort him. He wanted her to make him feel whole again. Make him feel safe in the world again. He just wanted to be with her. Have her close to him. Catch up. Talk.

To make the pain go away.

He had never stopped loving her. And he never, ever would. Even if she was oblivious to his affections.

"Alright... my apartment," he whispered. "Let's go."

A/N: Apologies for the delay in posting. I’ve been struggling with mental health but feeling much better. I’m hoping to have more posted in the near future. Just be patient with me.

Also, I would love to receive some requests if anyone had any. <3

Thanks to everyone for the support. 🖤

- halley 🫶🏻