#the jewel sequel is the only one gone

[hollywoodxwhore]

Ours | Chapter Three

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Content/Warnings: Smut (18+), periods/blood, period sex, vomiting from pain (not graphic I promise), swearing, masturbation

Colson

I specifically planned to go to the studio later today so I could wake up with Presley.

Now, awake before her for once, I watch her sleep. She’s so beautiful, especially like this: no makeup, hair loose, wearing nothing but a big t-shirt of mine. Her lips are slightly parted as she breathes. She’s on her stomach, one arm curled up by her head, leg bent at the knee. 

I lay on my side watching her with a soft smile. I know we haven’t been together all that long. It’s only been a couple of months since we started this whole thing, but when you know, you know, and I know Presley is the one. I think she feels it, too. I won’t admit this to anyone, but I’ve been looking at rings. Not in public, of course, mostly just online. I’m in contact with a jeweler and I think I’m going to design one that’s special for Pres. None of the ones already created are good enough. 

As I ponder our future, Presley groans softly in her sleep, brow knitting together. I frown and watch her. She shifts under the blankets and rolls over, kicking the blankets away from her body. My eyes wander down and suddenly, my heart is in my throat. Shit. 

This is totally normal. I’ve had girlfriends before. Periods don’t freak me out. But I know my girl, and I know how insecure she can get about things like this. I swear, the woman doesn’t even shit. She must wait until I’m gone or something. I’ve never even heard her burp. She’s very protective over her bodily functions. Therefore, when she wakes up and discovers she’s bled all over the sheets, she’s going to be upset.

As quietly as I can, I crawl out of bed and sneak into the bathroom. I start a bath and place a towel in the warmer. When I return to the bed, I take in a slow breath and place a hand on her shoulder. I lean down and kiss her head. “Pres,” I whisper. “Baby, wake up.”

Presley shifts and groans again, then opens her eyes slightly, peeking up at me. “Wha?” she asks, voice raspy from sleep, and I have to bite back a smile. 

“Do me a favor and don’t freak out,” I murmur, trying to sound as calm as I can.

“About what?” Presley asks, tensing up.

“Baby, you started your period,” I tell her. 

She blinks, then jerks away from me, looking down at herself. When she spots it, I watch her beautiful eyes widen and then gloss over. “Shit,” she whispers.

“Hey, hey,” I say soothingly, reaching over to cup her jaw. “Baby. I promise you have nothing to worry about.” She whimpers and my heart breaks a little. My poor girl. “You go get in the bath and I’ll clean this up.”

“Colson, no!” she squeaks in horror, her eyes going wide. “You can’t clean up after me. Let me do it.”

“No,” I say firmly and Presley freezes, looking up at me in surprise. My resolve cracks, though, when tears finally spill over and trail down her cheeks. “Oh, Pres,” I say, brow furrowing in anguish. I lean down and kiss her softly on her cheeks, her nose. “Do you love me?”

She nods, eyes wide and worried.

“Great. I love you, too,” I say. “I plan on marrying you someday.” Somehow, those big eyes widen even more and I watch her throat bob as she swallows hard. “I hope you’ll want to have my babies someday, too. The point is, I’m in this thing. A little blood doesn’t scare me.” Quite the opposite, actually. “So get your cute ass in the tub and let me take care of this. Deal?”

Pres blinks and her mouth closes. After a moment, she gives me a dazed nod and lets me help her out of bed. I hand her a wad of toilet paper and then turn around, giving her some privacy. Once I hear the bathroom door snick shut, I rid the bed of the sheets and mattress pad. I hum quietly to myself as I take them to the laundry room. In goes the bleach and detergent. They’ll be good as new before we know it.

In the bedroom again, I tuck fresh sheets onto the mattress, then go into my closet for supplies. Out comes a heating pad and a fuzzy blanket. I don’t know how bad Presley’s periods are; she hasn’t had one around me before. But I know they’re different for every woman, and I want to be prepared. I walk to the bathroom door, listen for a second, and decide she’s fine. 

In the kitchen, I make her a light breakfast of a bagel with cream cheese and a bowl of fresh fruit. I carry it upstairs and then softly knock on the bathroom door. “Baby?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is tight and tearful and my stomach drops. I hate that she’s embarrassed about this.

“Can I come in?” I ask, practically bouncing on my toes with urgency to see her, to make sure she’s okay.

“It’s unlocked,” she says quietly. I let myself in and freeze in my tracks when I spot her. She’s curled up on the bath mat, practically in the fetal position, and she’s wrapped in a towel, skin damp. 

“Pres,” I say, setting her food on the counter and squatting down beside her, putting a hand to her back. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” she whimpers, and fuck if my heart doesn’t squeeze sadly in my chest. 

“What hurts, babe?” I coo, stroking her hair. She’s pale and sweaty, breathing slowly.

“I haven’t had my period in months,” she grits out. “They’re irregular as fuck, but when they do come, they’re - ugh, fuck - they’re awful.” She curls in on herself even further and I frown. 

“I brought you a bagel and some fruit,” I tell her, and she looks up at the counter. I’m hopeful for a second but then she turns green, crawls over to the toilet, and pukes. 

Fuck. Food was not the right thing to do.

Anxiety spikes in my chest even though I’m sure she’s fine. I hurry over and pull her hair back, rubbing her back with my free hand. “It’s okay,” I assure her. 

She flushes the toilet and slumps over the bowl when she’s done. Then, she starts to cry. 

I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. 

I let out a helpless little sound, unsure of what to do. Do I give her space? Do I hold her? The sounds of her cries suddenly answer my question for me and I sit against the wall, hauling her trembling body into my arms. She clings to me, curling her fingers around the material of my shirt, and finally, I’ve done the right thing. Whew. 

I stroke her hair and press a kiss to her clammy forehead. “What do you need, my love?”

“Medicine,” she croaks. “Heating pad. Sleep.”

“That can all be arranged,” I say softly against her hairline. “Will you be able to keep medicine down?”

She nods. “I puked from the pain. Once the meds kick in, I won’t be nauseous anymore,” she explains. Jesus. Throwing up from being in pain. It’s only happened to me once when I was kicked in the balls harder than fuck. It wasn’t pleasant. I can’t imagine it happening multiple times a year. Does this happen to some women every month? Jesus Christ. Women are heroes. 

I kiss her head again and then scoop her up. I pause. “Do you have what you need? A tampon?”

She nods. “I had a box in the cabinet.”

“Okay, good,” I say. I take her to bed and settle her down onto the warm heating pad. She groans softly and curls up. I go to the dresser, find a pair of comfy underwear and a clean shirt of mine, then rush back to the bed to help her dress. Then, I hurry into the bathroom for ibuprofen. She downs 800 milligrams and settles in. I help to settle the heating pad on her belly and slowly, her color returns to normal. 

“That’s better,” she sighs, eyes starting to droop. I pull the blankets up to cover her and then stroke her hair back. God, this is all so domestic and I love every second of it. I love taking care of her.  

“I’m going to give you some space and–” I start, but she interrupts me.

“Wait,” she says, eyes opening fully. Her hand curls around my wrist. “Don’t go.” She looks sheepish. “Please?”

If only she knew how badly I wanted her to beg me to stay. I smile softly and nod, then go around to the other side of the bed and crawl in beside her. She rolls onto her side and I pull her in, curling around her from behind. I cover the heating pad on her stomach with my hand and she sighs at the gentle, warm pressure. I smile and nuzzle in, closing my eyes. 

“Col?” she asks quietly.

“Hm?”

“I love you.” She covers my hand with her own. “Thank you for taking care of me. Sorry about all of this.”

“Pres, I will always take care of you,” I assure her. “I like doing it. Okay? Now, get some sleep.” She nods and settles in, and soon enough, she’s asleep.

I didn’t think I would be able to fall back asleep, but somehow, I’m waking up to an empty bed and a growling stomach. I frown, reaching out for Presley, finding an empty space where she once lay. “Pres?” I call out. I clear the sleep from my throat.

“In here,” she calls from the bathroom. I’m about to jump up when she appears in the doorway. Her hair is wet, her color looks normal, and she looks like my happy, healthy girlfriend. I relax instantly. 

“You okay, baby?” I ask.

Presley nods and walks over to me, crawling into bed beside me. “Much better,” she says as I take her into my arms. “Just disappointed we can’t have sex.”

I’m quiet for a long few moments and she arches a brow, looking up at me. “Who says we can’t?” I ask softly.

Presley blinks those gorgeous jade eyes. “Says…my bleeding vagina?”

I snort a laugh and shake my head. “I don’t think you realize how little I care about that.”

“Really?” Presley asks. “That doesn’t gross you out?”

I swallow hard. “No,” I admit. “I actually…I kinda like it.”

Presley looks at me for a second, then shakes her head and chuckles softly. “You’re a freak. I love you.” She presses a kiss to my lips and I can’t help but smile, pulling her leg across my hips. 

“We’ll just put a towel down,” I say with a casual shrug. My cock is already trying to tent my boxer briefs, pressing against her thigh. 

“Okay,” she says, looking self-conscious. 

“Do you want to?” I ask. “Do you feel comfortable?”

“I’m a little nervous,” she admits, “but I want to. Are you sure it doesn’t bother you?”

I curl a hand gently around her throat, applying no pressure but just holding her. “Presley,” I say seriously. “If you’d let me, I’d eat the fuck out of your pussy right now.” Her breath hitches and her pupils widen just slightly. “Does that clear it up?” I ask.

Presley gulps and nods. “Crystal clear,” she practically wheezes. 

I grip her neck just a little bit tighter and bring her mouth to mine. I’m aching for her, hungry for her, and I kiss her hard, tasting the mint of her toothpaste on her breath. I pull her on top of me and before I can get any leverage, she presses her clothed pussy to my dick and grinds down. My breath stutters and I steady my hands on her hips, surprised by the sudden friction. Presley looks down at me, eyes dark, and holy shit, she’s so horny. I can tell. 

“Pres,” I say huskily. “Fuck, baby.”

“I want you,” she practically whines, and suddenly, all of my control is gone. I flip us over so she’s on her back and then I’m between her legs, thighs on both of my shoulders. “Cols–” she tries, but my mouth is already on her, kissing. 

“I won’t go under your panties, I promise,” I rasp. “Please, just. Just let me?” I rest my cheek against her thigh, looking up at her pleadingly. She whimpers and nods quickly, pushing her hand into my hair. My tongue finds her clothed clit and roughs against it, causing Presley to let out a shaky breath. I can’t get enough of her. I kiss and lick and suck and do everything I possibly can through her panties to work her up, and it’s working. She’s writhing above me and begging, keening. 

Finally, I pull back, and shit, I’m way too close. Presley swallows hard and rolls off the bed onto shaky legs. “Let me…I just…let me take this out,” she stammers, and I smirk, knowing I’m the one who has her speech acting up. She stumbles into the bathroom, and moments later, she returns. 

Completely naked.

It never fails: the breath is knocked out of my goddamn lungs every single time I see my girl naked. I can’t help it. She’s perfect. I whine low in my throat at the sight of her, tits slightly bigger than usual, nipple rings glinting in the midday sunshine. I admire the roadmap of her curves, the way her hips slope into her thighs. 

“Get over here, baby,” I rasp, sitting on the edge of the bed. She crawls into my lap and kisses me hard, grinding her pussy against my shaft and I shiver, tensing in pleasure. I reach down and it’s easy to slip right inside of her. Neither of us breathes as she sinks down, the backs of her thighs settling onto the tops of mine. “Fuck, Presley,” I breathe, my head falling back for a moment.

Pres takes advantage, her lips finding my neck, and god dammit, I’m not the one who’s supposed to get weak from getting his neck kissed, but shit, it feels good. I see why girls lose it when their necks are kissed. I groan and close my eyes, letting her kiss me to her heart’s content. My hands settle onto her plush ass and I hold her close, our hearts pounding against one another’s while she adjusts to my size.

Finally, she grinds forward, the wet warmth of her dragging up my shaft. I can’t help but groan, squeezing her ass harder as she moves. I press up onto my toes, thighs lifting upward to angle her differently and she lets out a choked moan as her arms drape around my neck. I place a hand to the back of her neck and pull her in for a hard kiss, teasing my tongue into her mouth.

Every single time she moves, pleasure sparks through me, and I need to get control of this fast before I lose it way too fucking soon. With a growl, I get her onto her back and then cover her frame with my own. My palms find her ass and I press inside her. With my hands gripping her ass, I can pull her hips even closer to mine and grind right against her clit with every thrust. Presley loses it, breath trembling between whimpers and gasps, nails digging into my back. “Colson–” she gasps. “Fuck, baby, so good,” I moan into her neck, devouring the taste of her skin. Something about her feels different when she’s on her period. Maybe it’s all in my head, but she’s even tighter, her body more reactive to my touch. With every thrust, she clenches around me harder than usual, and it’s driving me fucking wild, making me lightheaded. 

I let go of her ass to plant my hands on the bed, pushing myself up slightly, and then I drive into her hard and fast. Our skin slaps together and Presley’s cries hike up in pitch and volume until she’s practically screaming. “That’s it, baby,” I grunt, watching her face, watching her tits bounce. I know they’re sensitive and I growl as I grip one, squeezing it gently. 

“Oh f-fuck!” she cries, back arching almost painfully. “I’m gonna come–”

“That’s it, good girl,” I grit out. “Come for me. Come all over my fucking cock, that’s it.”

My words send my girl over the edge. She screams out, clamping down so hard on my dick that it’s hard to move, but I don’t even care. Her ecstasy is worth it. I duck my head to suck on her nipple while she comes and her hips jerk against me as her orgasm intensifies. “Colson, fuckfuckfuck!” she says, voice high, and I moan around my mouthful of her breast. 

Finally, her rigid body releases, going slack beneath me, and I slow my thrusts. I look down at her, admiring her flushed cheeks and blown pupils and she lets out a breathless laugh. I chuckle too. “You okay?”

“Never better,” she breathes. She lifts her hips, pushing me off her. “Your turn.” I go up on my knees and practically drool when she turns around and arches her back. She looks over her shoulder at me as I move close to her, curling my hands around her hips. I watch every inch of my dick disappear inside her with a shuddering moan. I start to thrust but Presley bears down, stopping me. I arch a brow but then I get it.

My girlfriend starts throwing her ass back like it’s her fucking job.

I’m not even moving as her pussy slides up and down my dick, coating it with her arousal. Her ass smacks against my triple X tattoo with every movement and I’m dizzy with pleasure, unable to do anything but just take it. “Presley,” I wheeze, eyes glued to her ass as she takes me so good. My fingers tighten around her hips as my balls tighten and my stomach knots up. I’m shaking by now, so desperate to let go inside of her. 

Presley moans and whimpers and it’s only turning me on more. “Fuck, Colson,” she gasps. “Come inside me, baby.”

“Fuck, yeah,” I grunt, watching as she slams her ass against me. I’m so close, so fucking close. Any second now, I’m going to completely lose it. When she slides me almost all the way out of her, I see it: her blood on me, and that’s what makes me fucking lose it.

As she backs up again, taking me all the way inside, I shout out and squeeze her hips hard, keeping her against me as I explode. I come so hard that I can feel the way it hits her walls and I go dizzy and slack-jawed with pleasure. It’s such a good orgasm and it lasts longer than most. Finally, I slump over her and curse, letting my forehead fall onto her back. We pant together, sweating and sated until finally, I pull out of her. She hobbles to the bathroom and that’s when I realize we didn’t put a towel down.

There’s no mess, except for on my dick, and I glance at the bathroom door to make sure Presley isn’t standing right there. I look down and bite back a groan at the sight of it. I think I’d hate this with any other girl, but I love Presley, and fuck, I have a thing for blood. Jesus, I already want to come again. I curl my hand around the base of my dick and whimper. “Pres,” I call.

She flushes the toilet, washes her hands, and appears in the doorway. “Yeah?” she asks. Her eyes glaze over when she sees what I’m doing, and she hurries over, crawling onto the bed and sitting on her knees. Her eyes are wide and beautiful as she looks up at me, and when she arches her back and grips her tits, pressing them up, my hips jerk.

“Oh sh-shit,” I stammer, and my hips jerk, splattering a little more cum onto her tits. Completely spent and overstimulated, I collapse onto my back. Presley cleans up in the bathroom again and returns with a warm, wet washcloth. I clean myself off, toss the washcloth at the laundry basket, and go boneless on the bed. Presley giggles and snuggles up beside me.

“Love you, Cols,”  she says, pressing a kiss to my chest.

“I love you, too, fuck,” I groan. “You’re so perfect.” I cup her cheek and kiss her slowly. 

I decide to say fuck the studio. We stay in bed the rest of the day. We order food, watch movies, and fuck again, though this time, it’s slower. More emotional. Never thought I’d like it like that, but with Pres, I’d like anything. My future wife. She’s so goddamn perfect for me.

Taglist: @triplexdoublex @jaxbreaker @mgklove99xx @jinx-on-mars-19xx @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @missamericanaxx @anonymousme86 @whiteleoqueen @feroniakutenpuu

[lapelle-du-bubblegum-vide]

Tagged by @aurora-boreas-borealis Thank you <3 (and sorry for getting to this rn asfghjsjk)

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPS.

I apologise in advance for how some of these will sound LOL. Also some are titles to bigger folders and idk i hope that's gonna be comprehensible.

Ah yes, strangers/idiots to lovers in a wasteland + crows my beloved~ (lmao)

Dracula (1897) AU

Dream smp slasher au

DSMP BBC Sherlock AU <3

Emo/Scene SBI AU

Enemies to lovers but literally the plague but Phistin

Halloween Wilbur and Kristin special

Hounds of Love and Phistin My Beloveds

Incredible Immortals 2023 event (Anynone remember that one? Lmao)

Kate and Leopold au

Some sort of royal au with prince/king c!Wil literally exists only so I can use FOB’s “From Now On We Are Enemies”

The Family Jewels AU (kinda)

All Was Golden - An Dream SMP AU/Phil is a nationalist/royalist au (consisting of: A baker and her fisherwoman :D, One shot???? Another fanfic????, Wilbur fucked a salmon and nobody believes him :), Wilbur is a general and playing Hamilton with his mums army :), Yay mumza dadza and crows fanfiction :D)

MH AU - Text

IRYEWYG (consisting of: I'll Remember This Night When You're Gone, I'll Remember Your Eyes When You're Gone - Full Work, Surrender Your Heart (Surrender Every Dream), We’ll Drive On And On, So Dream On And On)

Bingo Bang 2022 (consisting of: BingoBang2022 - Ideas for oneshots, First date - BB2023 prompt turned oneshot)

Scream fanfic

Ready or not fic ideas

Cabin AU (consisting of: Cabin fic, Cabin sequel, Cabin sequel-prequel)

If anynone wants to ask about anything after reading all that oh my god, WOW, brave of you.

Tagging these guys @slasherbat @demonadelem @horse-plinko @ace-attorney-go-brrrrr (don't feel forced to participate <3)

[stereogeekspodcast]

[Transcript] Season 4, Episode 4. Quantum Leap 2022 Eulogy

Gone too soon! Quantum Leap (2022-2024) has been canceled and Ron and Mon aren't taking it well. We share our thoughts about the show, what we loved, what could have been improved, and we run through a list of our favourite episodes.

Listen to the episode on Spotify.

Hello, and welcome to a new episode of Stereo Geeks.

I'm Mon.

And I'm Ron.

This is our Eulogy to Quantum Leap 2022-2024.

Rest in Peace.

Can I just say, I did not see this coming, but I feel like you had an inkling that this would happen.

The first season was renewed almost immediately, and this one, it came, it went, no one talked about it.

And then I got that feeling, you know, it's like, you just know it's doomed.

And I was right.

I know that there are going to be no more seasons, we only got the two, but we still want people to watch it wherever they can find it, which is why we're doing this episode.

So a little bit about the show.

Quantum Leap is not exactly a remake, more like a half sequel to the 80s Quantum Leap show.

It was extremely popular.

2022, we heard about Quantum Leap.

We thought, let's give it a try.

We quite quickly fell in love with the show.

First season went absolutely brilliantly.

We were excited for the second season.

And yeah, now, alas.

So let's take a look at the cast.

We have Dr. Ben Song, played by Raymond Lee.

His fiancee, Addison Augustine, played by Caitlin Bassett.

Then we have the kind of tech genius, Ian Wright, played by Mason Alexander Park.

The security chief, Jen Chu, played by Nanrisa Lee.

The head of the Quantum Leap division is Magic, played by Ernie Hudson.

In season two, we had a recurring character, Hannah Carson, played by Eliza Taylor, and also Tom Westfall, played by Peter Gaddio.

I'm probably pronouncing that wrong.

We also have, throughout the two seasons, a few appearances by a character called Janice, played by Georgina Riley.

Not too much into her because spoilers.

I'll also shout out some notable guest stars.

We had Brandon Routh, aka Superman. Obviously not playing Superman here, but still.

Lou Diamond Phillips, a veteran of Hollywood.

Melissa Roxborough, who we recently saw in Manifest.

Justin Hartley, who's been in a lot of stuff, but I believe most people know him from This Is Us.

Jewel Staite, who most Canadians know because she's a Canadian actor.

Deborah Ann Woll, who's coming back as her character Karen in the Daredevil series.

Robert Picardo, who obviously we know very well because he was the doctor on Voyager.

And James Frain, who is in everything, like he's James Frain.

Season one had 18 episodes.

Good, solid season.

Season two had 13 episodes.

I guess the signs are already there.

I really think so.

I mean, we didn't realize it, but anyway, this is a celebratory episode.

We're never going to see these characters again.

But yeah, this is the goodest time of the year to just get in there, watch these two seasons, enjoy a really heartfelt, rousing show about finding the best in humanity.

Let's get into it.

We never got around to watching the original Quantum Leap.

They didn't show it where we were.

It's a bit hard to now get into it.

80s aesthetics, some of the sensibilities.

I hear that the original Quantum Leap was way ahead of its time.

You know, people are fans even now.

Even though we went in cold, one of the most exciting parts about Quantum Leap in general is time travel.

And this reboot, remake, reimagining definitely stuck to a lot of time travel.

Yeah, I love time travel in any of its forms.

I have seen some shockingly bad films because they were apparently about time travel.

Anyway, I think the reason why the Quantum Leap concept is so fun is because generally with time travel, you don't want to change the past.

That's a bad thing.

Butterfly effect and all that.

But in Quantum Leap, the whole purpose is to change the past because that's what's going to make things better.

Yeah, absolutely.

And it makes things a lot better for characters who are queer, especially in this show.

And that's actually one of the things that I really like about the show being made in 2022.

Love how all the show's characters are just unabashedly allies of the queer community.

It's like not even a second thought.

No one's fighting that battle.

And it's especially great because Ian, played by Mason Alexander Park, is a queer character, and they are queer in real life as well.

So this just feels so much more layered.

They don't go on and on about it, and all of Ian's storylines are not about them being queer, but they're definitely the center of it, when that's the episodic storyline.

I thought all the characters were really interesting.

It's a very diverse cast.

The dynamics among the characters are very interesting, but each character also has an arc of their own.

It wasn't just, you know, Ben and Addison's romance, but you know, in the background, you have Ian, Jen, and Magic.

Like they're this trio of heroes that are making things happen and trying to save Ben.

Speaking of Ben, this show lives and dies by the fact that he's not only played very carefully and sweetly, I would say, by Raymond Lee, but he's also really well written.

He's purposefully written as this very kind-hearted person.

He believes in the best of people.

He knows that, yes, sometimes you're in a situation that is absolutely terrible.

You've done something or you could be doing something, which is horrible, but there's something to redeem you.

I just love that so much.

And that plays into how each episode is structured, because it's all about the rousing speeches at the end that Ben gives.

He wins the heart of whoever he's talking to, but he also wins the heart of the viewer.

Absolutely.

Ben so easily sees the best in people, and that's why when he makes a sincere appeal to their humanity, they listen.

And we as the viewers are also listening.

And I feel like after every episode, we just felt like better people.

Yeah, if there's one major grouse with the show, it's that we only get two seasons of it.

Exactly.

I mean, we're definitely upset the show is canceled because Raymond Lee was so game to do anything in this show.

Like he was a flight stewardess in one episode.

He was a lady bounty hunter in another.

It could have gone so many different places.

And we probably would have seen more opportunities of him hanging out with his other teammates because they would have been the holograms instead of just Addison.

We got to see that a little bit, but season three, they kind of promised that that would actually happen.

And now we never get to see it.

Yeah, exactly.

The first few times that the others got to be holograms, it was a lot of fun.

Like Jen was singing about it, which was absolutely hilarious to watch.

Like when magic got to be a hologram, so much emotion, just so much emotion.

But yeah, now we'll never get to see that.

But is there anything that didn't work for you?

I think the one major thing that didn't work for me at all was the whole Janice plot line in season one.

I think it needed to be fleshed out a lot more.

They were trying to be very cagey and keep things under their hats, but I feel like maybe they went overboard.

Or if they'd been able to stretch it out a little bit more over two or three seasons, we would have really felt, I think, the stakes of exactly what was happening and why a little bit better.

For me, I think season two, the Addison-Tom relationship, it didn't work for me.

I couldn't really see the chemistry between them.

And for some bizarre reason, I just couldn't trust Tom.

I still don't trust him, and we'll never know if our concerns were warranted or not.

Since this is a celebration, let's chat about some of our favorite episodes.

It was really tempting to put all 18 of the first season and all 13 of the second, but you know what?

We need to be tempered in our view.

So if you are wondering if you want to invest so much time into the show, maybe start with just these faves.

Kicking off with season one, one of the episodes that I really found quite emotionally stunning was episode three, Somebody Up There Likes Ben.

First of all, there's a lot of physicality in this episode because Ben leaps into the body of a boxer.

There are a lot of stakes.

It's an emotional roller coaster, and it also has a really powerful message about mental health.

It was so lovely.

It will definitely have you quite emotional by the end of it.

The first two episodes of the first season got you hooked.

Episode three was when I realized this was a great show.

And they tried different things.

They weren't just formulaic or one-note.

With episode seven, for example, Oh Ye of Little Faith, it was a Halloween episode, and it was completely a horror genre.

And how they made it work and made it plausible within the context of the story was fantastic.

But this was so good.

This was…

It was hilarious.

It was kind of scary.

And Ben Song was an absolute delight in this one.

To make the horror elements work within the world, it was very impressive.

They could have done so much more.

And there was another genre episode that I was really impressed by.

That was the 10th episode of the first season, Paging Doctor Song.

It's a medical episode.

Generally, I don't like medical shows.

They make me feel ill.

But even though this episode is kind of gory at times, it's so unexpected and unpredictable plot-wise.

And again, the emotional beats, they just come out of nowhere.

Well, I think this particular episode for me was a reminder that the show is about people.

It's about how we interact and live with each other.

And that's what makes us come back for more.

And we would have come back for a season three if they hadn't canceled it.

And literally the next episode is probably one of the best.

It's called Leap Die Repeat.

Look, time loop episodes are a mainstay of the time travel genre.

They are also some of my favorite tropes.

I can't think of a single time loop episode that was bad.

But there is also so much danger in this episode.

The stakes are insanely high.

Ben could die at any time, but he's cycling through these time loops and he is actually running out of time as well.

There's always, you know, there's got to be some deadline to your obstacles.

Also Robert Picardo is in it.

It's a banger.

Yeah, I have to say that was edge of your seat stuff.

And the next episode after that is also our favorite.

This is odd.

All we can say is that middle part of season one was really good.

So episode 12, Let Them Play, it's a chance manifesto.

We won't get into the details, but it is so full of feels.

There's a lot more of the episode characters rather than the main characters, but also a focus on Ian and how they're bringing the queer perspective and the queer lived experience to what the story is about.

Mason Alexander Park really brings a lot of emotionality and depth to Ian's storyline there.

Some great scenes about being trans, about being queer.

It's really, really a very good episode and absolutely a joker.

Oh yeah, that one just, it really does bring so much emotion.

It's a really powerful story as well.

And also an interesting mystery.

And really relevant to the current situation, even two years on, in the US and the UK especially, and now maybe in Canada.

Well, moving on to episode 13 of season one, that middle bunch of episodes was just spectacular.

Family style, it's an Indian episode.

We gotta shout it out.

But there are so many lovely little moments about this episode that made it stand out for me.

Ben loves to cook.

Like in the previous episode, he is overjoyed because he gets to be a basketball coach and he's a basketball fan.

But he is in his element in the kitchen.

He is losing his mind because he gets to cook this amazing food.

And also there are all these family dynamics that you and I recognized.

It's a top favorite for me.

Yeah, this one had probably one of my favorite closing scenes.

It was just like all the fields, all the fields.

But you know what I really liked about this one?

We live in a multicultural society.

Like the whole world is multicultural right now.

You can't imagine a time when we were growing up where you would have watched something where the main character of an American TV show would just be super excited to be in an Indian restaurant trying out this amazing Indian food and getting deep into actually trying to cook it.

And here's Ben just enjoying himself.

Like he's just having the time of his life and this is food that he's familiar with and he likes.

It's just so good.

It was just, it was heartwarming.

And so on to season two, I will say I was a little bit concerned when it started.

The first two or three episodes were a little off and it really was because of Ben.

Story wise, it made sense why he wasn't himself, but it didn't pick up till Ben was kind of back to his usual self.

And I think the turning point was really episode five of season two, One Night in Koreatown.

This one had so many feels.

I did not know what to expect.

It was so layered and nuanced and said a lot about racism in the US especially.

Racism among communities, about other communities.

It's not something that a lot of people are comfortable talking about.

But I think also what made it special was the fact that magic got to be the hologram.

And he's part of an event that he originally experienced as well.

I just found that Ben and magic's relationship, their dynamic, along with the dynamic of the family that Ben is involved with in the story, it was so incredible.

This was my favorite episode of the entire show.

This was a real standout.

I had actually heard an entire podcast series about this particular event.

So when I saw the title, I was like, oh my gosh.

I have to say I was a bit nervous because I was like, this is an event that it's left a mark on people.

They still talk about it.

And I wasn't quite sure how the show was going to handle it.

I think they went in the right direction.

They went ground level.

They hyper-focused on one small family, and the result was very relatable and as you said, a real tear-jerker.

Great stuff.

So moving on to something else, which would you believe it, I had just listened to a podcast series about.

Episode 7 of season 2, A Kind of Magic.

It was all about witch trials.

And as I said, I heard a podcast series, and then I heard two separate episodes of two different podcasts, which were both about witch trials.

One of them was about the American witch trials.

Another was about the European ones.

So I had a lot of information in my head when I went into this.

Again, this show does such a great job.

It just goes ground level.

Ben is in the body of this young girl, who is of course accused of being a witch.

And a lot of the stuff that I was reading about, it was super accurate in this episode.

I was very impressed.

And despite the nightmare situation, somehow Ben finds the positivity to inspire the people around him.

I just love that about this character.

Yeah, witch trials for me, every time I come across any storylines like that, they just make me so angry.

And the writers of the show just know how to calm you down.

Because you can't do anything with that misplaced anger.

This happened years ago.

So this episode felt a little bit cathartic for those of us who just are needlessly angry about something that has nothing to do with us.

Cathartic is the word.

We are just living constantly with impotent rage.

When you watch something like Quantum Leap, and you see Ben going into these situations, and you know that you can't do anything, and all the horrible stuff has already happened, and we are living through a time when there is more horrible stuff happening, and you get to feel some amount of positivity because Ben can fix the situation.

That's why we need this show.

You are making me sad now that we don't get more.

Let's talk about another favorite.

Well, literally the next episode, episode 8, it's called Nomads Egypt.

It's set in Egypt.

Who doesn't love Egypt and spies?

That is a fantastic combo.

And what really worked was that they shot on location.

You feel that.

One of the things that a lot of people complain about, a lot of entertainment media nowadays, is that everything looks flat.

You can tell that they shot on VFX.

Now listen, VFX, when done right, looks great and looks seamless.

But the people who work behind the scenes on post-production need time.

Guess what a lot of people don't give them?

Time.

And the other thing nowadays, everybody wants to cut budgets.

Hence, no location shooting.

So, what do you get?

Everything looks the same.

Thankfully, this episode, I don't know how they had the money to do it, but there they were in Egypt and it looked great.

It has this really nice, old-timey, heist spy movie sort of feel to it.

I love that.

Love that episode.

And in a similar vein, we have episode 10, The Family Treasure.

This was a stellar episode.

It's essentially Indiana Jones.

But it focuses on three siblings.

Ben is one of them.

And they are so wildly different from one another and have very, very different relationships with their dearly departed parents.

And all this comes to the fore because they're on a treasure hunt.

I love treasure.

I love adventure.

And this was only part of what this story is about.

We won't even go into the rest again.

It was just so heartfelt.

Ben is the best ally in all of TV history as far as I'm concerned.

Truly, truly, like Ben brings people together and really helps them see perspectives because they can't.

I mean, he just goes out of his way to see the best in people, and he shows them the good things about themselves that they're missing, which is exemplified in the episode right after that, The Outsider.

Honestly, the end of the season just bangers one after the other.

So Ben's unwavering positivity changes a journalist's mind about her own abilities because she had a bad situation and she let it get to her head.

But Ben would not let her doubt herself.

Honestly, we all need a champion like Ben in our lives.

This episode was sort of going one way, and then it just hits you in the feels because Ben just is like a dog with a bone when it comes to redeeming a person.

I felt very heartened when I watched this episode.

And then on to the finale.

You know, finales can be hit and miss.

The first season finale I thought was one of the weaker episodes of that season.

And with season 2, I was really wondering, where are they going with this?

Lots of twists and turns, quite epic, very tense and intense as well.

But again, that cathartic feeling because Ben is appealing to the best of humanity, even when all seems lost.

You can't even imagine that this man is going to win.

How is he going to win?

There's no way.

Despite all these twists and turns, you can't predict what will happen next.

And somehow Ben is like hanging on and telling you to hang on.

Because yeah, humanity is worth saving.

Yeah, Ben just constantly believes that humanity is good and that when the chips are down, we will do our best.

Apparently, he did not live through the pandemic.

But yeah, this was an epic season finale.

Very, very tense moments.

Some really quite shocking plot twists.

But the biggest plot twist of course was that we couldn't have predicted that they would cancel the damn show.

We are not at all bitter.

Spoiler alert, we are very bitter.

Alright, so that's our episode on Quantum Leap.

I know that it's gone.

It only lasted two seasons, but it was two fantastic seasons.

I'm so glad we got to meet these characters, hang out with them, even though it was only for two years, but they made us feel so much better.

Tuning in every week sparked a little bit of joy in all our lives.

We're going to miss you, Quantum Leap.

Ron: You can find us on Twitter @Stereo_Geeks. Or send us an email stereogeekspodcast@gmail.com. We hope you enjoyed this episode. And see you next week!

Mon: The Stereo Geeks logo was created using Canva. The music for our podcast comes courtesy Audionautix.

[thebreakfastgenie]

jasmine and abelia for the ask game! -ypq

jasmine ⇢ do you have a movie or book you loved but will never watch/read again?

I answered this one but let me see if I can think... okay so I actually hated Wuthering Heights except when I was reading it because it was assigned in high school I was in a weird depressive slump and the only thing that made me feel better was reading that book. So I got way ahead of the class because I would just go home curl up and read it?? Idk it was weird. I couldn't stand most of the characters and didn't care for the style but I was so attached to it. But I doubt I'll ever reread it. 

Oh and Little Women! My mom read me Little Women when I was like seven and I was riveted but I probably won't reread it and I refuse to see any movie version because Little Women to me is my memory of the book. If I ever changed my mind I'd reread the book first. We also read the two sequels, Little Men and Jo's Boys because I insisted on it. 

And I enjoyed the original Jungle Book a lot as a kid but I hate Rudyard Kipling so much I doubt I'll ever read it again... I suspect to an adult the racism in that book would really jump out. 

abelia ⇢ do you have a particular piece of jewelry you always wear or can’t part with?

I have the Bead! I wore it constantly (except for showers and swimming, sports, things like that but I did sleep in it) for years, but now I only wear it occasionally because of the wear and tear. It's a cheap plastic bead, it wasn't meant for this. I will never ever part with it although I did lose it for over two years a couple years ago and I had a breakdown about, tore my room apart more than once, my mom called a hotel we'd stayed at in case I left it there... and then it just turned up. Which is so fucking in character for the Bead, but let me explain the backstory. 

My friend Christi and I really loved animals, and we'd bring these happy meal toy sized The Dog stuffed animals to school to play with. One day we had a button that had fallen off another friend's coat, and we used that as a puck to play "nose hockey." (We were in fourth grade, air hockey was the coolest game ever.) Then our friend needed the button back so it could be sewed back onto her coat, so we needed a new puck. We found leftovers of these extremely cheap kits we'd used to make a keychain as a father's day craft, and commandeered the round, flat bead. It was red plastic and originally had a simplistic drawing of a car on it but that's long since rubbed off. 

One day we were playing nose hockey on the sidewalk and the Bead fell into a deep sidewalk crack. We thought it was irretrievable, but we tried anyway, working together with sticks. It ended up flying into the air (which we did not expect, we were just trying to roll it) and we caught it. So we began to suspect it was magic and could not be lost. I took the bead home for the summer, and it disappeared from the spot I left it in. Months later, it turned up in a completely different room of my house, on a different floor (I suspect feline assistance, which is fitting; we both adored cats). So now it was really magic! Christi wasn't in school that regularly, so I'd bring it just in case. There were a couple more incidents too, where it was lost or nearly lost and showed up again. 

After she died, I wanted to keep it safe, so I put it on a string--it was a bead, after all--and made it into a bracelet. My mom, realizing my knot was not secure, suggested putting it on a chain instead. When the plastic started to deteriorate, I stopped wearing it. A few years later, I took it to a jeweler, who put a metal tube inside the hole so the chain wouldn't cut into the plastic. Then I put it on a necklace instead, so it would be more protected than on my wrist. It's fragile so I still don't wear it every day, but I wear it some. 

I was wearing it on my way home from college for the summer. I got home and took it off and then it was just gone. I was sure I remembered where I left it, but it wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere. I was devastated. It was gone for years, and I had dreams where  found it and I woke up disappointed. 

One day I was on the other side of my room from where I'd last seen it, going through a box of Christi mementos. The Bead landed on the carpet. I don't know where it fell from. This was in September, too, not long before the anniversary of her death. I let out a shriek. So the Bead returned to me again! I still only wear it occasionally but I keep it very carefully. 

I also have a necklace that says Chatty Cathy, the name of our friend group, that another friend's mom had made for all of us (I think Christi was buried with one). I wore that every day for a while, and then every Friday (Christi's day at our school and Chatty Cathy meeting day; we were a "club" that was allowed to do whatever we wanted and roam unsupervised because cancer perks are very real), and then occasionally, but they were very cheaply made and after having the chain fixed many times I decided I needed to buy one that wouldn't break and risk losing the charm and I haven't done that yet, so I just have that one carefully put away for now. I had a near miss with losing that too when the chain broke while I was going through security to tour UK parliament and I had a breakdown because I thought the charm was lost and security was really nice to me, even pulling up a grate to see if it fell in (it turned out to be in my hair. embarrassing.). I'm American so I was kind of expecting guns in my face. 

Remind me to post a picture of the Bead later! I actually have a replica of how it originally looked (another leftover keychain kit) that I want to make into a piece of jewelry eventually. 

[ramblingromance]

The Family Upstairs: A Late Review

Be careful who you let in. Soon after her twenty-fifth birthday, Libby Jones returns home from work to find the letter she’s been waiting for her entire life. She rips it open with one driving thought: I am finally going to know who I am. She soon learns not only the identity of her birth parents, but also that she is the sole inheritor of their abandoned mansion on the banks of the Thames in London’s fashionable Chelsea neighborhood, worth millions. Everything in Libby’s life is about to change. But what she can’t possibly know is that others have been waiting for this day as well—and she is on a collision course to meet them. Twenty-five years ago, police were called to 16 Cheyne Walk with reports of a baby crying. When they arrived, they found a healthy ten-month-old happily cooing in her crib in the bedroom. Downstairs in the kitchen lay three dead bodies, all dressed in black, next to a hastily scrawled note. And the four other children reported to live at Cheyne Walk were gone. In The Family Upstairs, the master of “bone-chilling suspense” (People) brings us the can’t-look-away story of three entangled families living in a house with the darkest of secrets.

___________________________________________________________

Hey y'all, been a little while. I actually read this book weeks ago and I got through it so quickly I didn't even think to do a currently reading post or anything. For whatever reason, I also kept forgetting to write up a review for it, but here I finally am.

Like pretty much every Lisa Jewell novel I've read so far, I was thoroughly entertained from beginning to end. She knows how to write a good mystery thriller, and this one was no exception! Apparently there's also a sequel to this one, so I'm looking forward to picking that one up and giving it a read as well.

There's some dark themes in this one though, so just be warned. Honestly it's pretty reminiscent of Flowers in the Attack by V.C. Andrews, though maybe not quite as twisted.

_____________________________________________________________

Trigger Warnings: Violence, Murder, Child Abuse (Physical and Sexual), Marital Abuse,

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

I didn't sleep for about 48 hours. I ran on snacks and mostly the calories in coca cola. I am *very* good at puzzles and basically felt like I was on some kind of *trip* the entire time. I could feel all the photo-realistic textures in the game and I could hear everything it was all so good. It felt like my brain rediscovering what pleasure was.

I was really stressed anyway [avoiding my landlord who lived with me and figured we should be fucking] and couldn't really sleep regardless because my thyroid was hyperactive and making me overheat and have a resting heart rate of 120 the entire time. My doctors said it was indirectly driving up my adrenaline and cortisol levels but they "couldn't" really do anything about it and were *so so so confident* that my thyroid would 'soon' burn out completely, die and I'd need to take replacement thyroid hormone for the rest of my life [that is not what happened], so they just left me that way.

... So I -ATE- any consuming mental distraction I could... and my brain is hard to keep busy. But I discovered I could download not just Myst [the puzzle game I kept hearing about as a child/teen] but it's sequel and all the ones that came after it :D...

My dad and I had a bet when I was a kid that if I could solve 2 of the puzzles in Jewels of the Oracle, another similar-ish DOS based game, he'd give me 20$... I don't remember getting 20$ but I do remember solving 2 of the puzzles and asking after more games like that only to be turned away and told to go play, or distracted with painting programs. And then when I was a teen I remember my dad talking about the dad and the brothers from the original game at the dinner table on occasion when he was spending time trying to solve it, but for whatever reason he never just sat me down in front of the game and let me play it, despite a lot of asking after it... I got another brief taste of one at 14 or so when an uncle left me in front of his computer for a few hours while they all got drunk, it happened to have one of the worlds from Uru up on it and I spent some time getting the machine in teledahn working and set to the sun, with no real context for what I was trying to do... But then no one would tell me what the game was or help me get a copy and I was told to drop it... So I have been left with this "Now that I am a grownup I can find and play all the puzzle games and no one can stop me" healing your inner child kind of bit.

I had managed to track down and play Myst before by then. And I *think* my ex had gotten me in front of Riven at his place before I broke up with him. I don't remember finishing it but I remember how stupid I thought the monkey island games were [sorry].

The moment I was incapable of sleep and in front of a computer and realized I could download/torrent them, nothing was going to stop me from swallowing them whole.

[and yes, for anyone worried I didn't pay them, I paid for the kickstarter and got a legit copy of all the games but my dumbass self listened to guys in my life who told me to get it on GOG instead of steam, and at this point I can't even log in anymore, steam is SO much more convenient and well at least I have the disks?]

I love those games so fucking much T~T

I might have passed out for 4 hours in there somewhere at some point too? But if I did it was very "lie down, blink, stand back up and go back to game"... Probably not healthy... I wasn't like... In my right mind at the time.

No one do what I did.

btw if that wasn't clear.

That was probably borderline dangerous, or as borderline dangerous as you can get without actually doing hard drugs. But in my defense I *had* gone to the doctor and they sent me home and told me to try to 'get rest' like that was going to fix everything when the complaint I went in for was "I cannot sleep for 48-72 hours at a time and I am hot and my heart is racing"... Like that's on them. Concluding that all they needed to do was monitor my thyroid in a few months [they gave it 5 months] once they figured it should be dead was just entirely on them at that point. i did what I had to do.

And what I had to do was get so hyper-focused on those games it literally felt like being inside them... And now my soul hurts because I don't know how to get back there T~T

bingewatching will never come close to bingereading. there is nothing like blocking out the entire Earth for ten hours to read a book in one sitting no food no water no shower no bra and emerging at the end with no idea what time it is or where you are, a dried-up prune that's sensitive to light and loud noises because you've been in your room in the dark reading by the glow of a single LED. it's like coming back after a three-month vacation in another dimension and now you have to go downstairs and make dinner. absolutely transcendental

[pagebypagereviews]

Lisa Jewell Biography Lisa Jewell is a bestselling British author known for her gripping psychological thrillers and contemporary novels. With a career spanning over two decades, she has captivated readers worldwide with her compelling storytelling and richly developed characters. Biography Information Details Full Name Lisa Jewell Date of Birth 19 July 1968 Nationality British Genres Popular Fiction Notable Works Ralph's Party Thirtynothing After The Party (sequel to Ralph's Party) Then She Was Gone The Family Upstairs Invisible Girl The Night She Disappeared Latest Book None of This Is True (published in July 2023) Early Life Early Life of Lisa Jewell Lisa Jewell, a renowned author known for her gripping novels, was born in London. She spent her formative years growing up in North London, where she was the eldest of three daughters in a comfortable family setting. Jewell's educational journey began at St. Michael's Catholic Grammar School in Finchley, North London. However, her academic path took a turn when she left school after just one day in the sixth form. She then pursued an art foundation course at Barnet College, which was followed by a diploma in fashion illustration from Epsom School of Art & Design. These early experiences in London not only shaped her educational background but also sparked her interest in exploring the dynamics within families and the secrets that lie behind closed doors. Family Lisa Jewell Family Information table width: 100%; border-collapse: collapse; th, td padding: 8px 12px; border: 1px solid #ddd; th background-color: #f4f4f4; Relation Name Information Mother Kay Jewell Kay Jewell, Lisa's mother, worked as a secretary. She was born in India and is of Scottish descent. Father Anthony Jewell Anthony Jewell, Lisa's father, was a textile agent. He played a significant role in Lisa's upbringing. Sister Amelie Mae Amelie Mae is one of Lisa's siblings. She shares a close bond with Lisa and has been mentioned in various contexts. Brother Jascha Gordon Jascha Gordon is Lisa's brother. He has been a supportive figure in Lisa's life and career. Height, Weight, And Other Body Measurements Lisa Jewell - Body Measurements table width: 100%; border-collapse: collapse; th, td border: 1px solid #ddd; padding: 8px; th background-color: #f2f2f2; Attribute Measurement Height Information not available Weight Information not available Other Body Measurements Information not available Note: Specific details about Lisa Jewell's height, weight, and other body measurements are not publicly available. Wife/husband / Girlfriend/boyfriend Lisa Jewell's Relationship Details Lisa Jewell is currently married to Jascha Gordon. The couple has been together for several years and they reside in London with their two daughters. Unfortunately, the exact date of their marriage is not readily available from the provided sources. There is no detailed information available about Lisa Jewell's previous relationships. However, based on the provided data, it is known that she had a relationship before marrying Jascha Gordon, but specific details such as names and timelines are not mentioned. Lisa Jewell is a renowned author known for her gripping novels. She has explored various themes and genres in her writing, and her personal experiences often influence her storytelling. Despite the lack of comprehensive details about her past relationships, her current marriage to Jascha Gordon seems to be a stable and happy one. For more information about Lisa Jewell, you can visit her Wikipedia page. Career, Achievements And Controversies Career, Achievements, and Controversies of Lisa Jewell Lisa Jewell is a renowned author known for her compelling contemporary fiction and thrillers. Her rise to fame began with her debut novel, Ralph's Party, which became the best-selling debut novel in the UK in 1999.

Her ability to create relatable, modern characters and gripping storylines quickly garnered her a loyal readership. Lisa Jewell's career started in an unusual manner. An unemployed secretary at the time, she was challenged by a friend to write the first three chapters of a novel in exchange for dinner. This challenge led to the creation of Ralph's Party, which was picked up by Penguin Books and launched her writing career. Popular Works Ralph's Party (1999) Vince and Joy (2005) The House We Grew Up In (2013) Then She Was Gone (2017) Watching You (2018) The Family Upstairs (2019) Invisible Girl (2020) None of This Is True (2022) Lisa Jewell has received various accolades throughout her career, including: Excellence in International Crime and Thriller Writing by The Bookseller Shortlisted for various prestigious awards such as the British Book Awards Despite her success, Lisa Jewell has not been without controversies. One notable incident involves her previous marriage, where she opened up about living with a controlling ex-husband. This personal revelation stirred conversations around the challenges she faced and how they influenced her writing. Additionally, like many public figures, she has faced criticism and scrutiny over her work's content and themes. However, she has managed to maintain a strong connection with her audience through her authenticity and storytelling prowess. Lisa Jewell's journey from an unemployed secretary to a best-selling author is a testament to her talent and resilience. Her works continue to captivate readers globally, and despite personal and professional challenges, she remains a significant figure in contemporary fiction and thriller genres. Faq FAQs about Lisa Jewell body font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.6; margin: 20px; .faq-container max-width: 800px; margin: auto; .faq margin-bottom: 20px; .question font-weight: bold; .answer margin-top: 5px; padding-left: 20px; Who is Lisa Jewell? Lisa Jewell is a British author known for her popular novels in the genres of contemporary fiction and psychological thrillers. She has written numerous bestsellers, including "The Family Upstairs" and "Then She Was Gone." What are some of Lisa Jewell's most famous books? When did Lisa Jewell start her writing career? Lisa Jewell started her writing career with her debut novel "Ralph's Party," which was published in 1999 and became an instant bestseller. What is "The Family Upstairs" about? The Family Upstairs" is a psychological thriller that revolves around a young woman who inherits a mansion from her birth parents, only to discover the dark secrets and tragedies that took place there years ago. The story is filled with suspense, twists, and multiple perspectives. Has Lisa Jewell received any awards for her writing? Yes, Lisa Jewell has received several awards for her writing, including the Melissa Nathan Award for Comedy Romance for her book "31 Dream Street." Her works have also been shortlisted for various prestigious awards in the literary world. Where can I find more information about Lisa Jewell and her books? You can find more information about Lisa Jewell and her books on her official website, social media profiles, and various online bookstores. Additionally, her books are available in most libraries and major book retailers.

[thebatmandiaries]

hello and welcome to my blog! i write lots of different fics, but am currently writing for supernatural! below are the links in which you can find my stuff. 📚 As always, please do not put these works on good reads or any associated platform. Thanks!

⭐️ my ao3 ✍️

⭐️ the masterlist of champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends (now complete, and with a prequel!)

⭐️current wips:

i’m the last of my kind (and that’s all that should matter to you)

“Hey, it could be worse.” Megumi says, shrugging.

“How could it be worse?” Yuji whines to him.

“I mean, you could be monster chow.” Nobara says, trying to cheer him up.

“Is that suppose to make me feel better?” Yuji asked her, deadpan.

“…Yes?’

“Nobara…” Yuji says, looking at her. “You suck at comforting people.”

or

Saving people, hunting things, the…family buisness?

aka the spn/jjk au no one but me wanted

oh baby, when they made me they broke the mold

Dean is back and better than ever. Now he needs to find the Colt and deal with Sam's burgeoning new powers, all while hiding the true reason he came back.

sending postcards from a plane crash

“Dean. What the hell are you doing here?” Sam asked him. “How did you find me?”

Sam had filled out from the gawky snot nosed brat he had been when Dean had last seen him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected Sam to grow in the ten years he had been gone, but it was still a shock to see how…grown up…Sam had gotten. Dean could only hope it was the same for his maturity and emotional responses.

Otherwise this would be even more awkward.

“We need to talk.” Dean said.

or

Dean and Sam meet again after ten years. It doesn’t go well.

⭐️ current series:

the family jewels

the series collection of “champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends”, including the (eventual) sequel and prequel to the story.

saving people, hunting things, the family business

spn, but with Claire as Dean's kid throughout the series.

Come Hell or High Water

Basically season one and two rewritten with the context dean is a demon.

ten years 'verse

How Sam and Dean finally reconnected as brothers after ten years.

⭐️ stories to highlight (not already listed)

of all the gin joints in the world (written for the pb exchange “hot entity summer”)

"But on a beach somewhere, you know? Can you imagine? You, me, Cas, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously." -Dean Winchester, 13x23 "Let the Good Times Roll".  In which Dean finally gets his beach vacation, Sam has a freak out, and Cas is just here for the ride. 

The (After) Life of the Party (written for deancas horrorfest)

After a fight with Sam one night, Dean wakes up in a world he is unfamiliar with. This world only has one rule: kill or be killed. As a designated Killer, he must kill all the Survivors before they have a chance to complete their task. If he doesn’t, he ruins the risk of becoming a Survivor himself. With the help of Charlie and Benny, other Killers, he slowly finds his footing in the new world he was thrust into. If only there wasn’t a strange blue eyed man to distract him…

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes (written for dcbb)

Dean Winchester has known he was in love with his best friend for a long time. He never planned on saying anything, at least, not until friends and family convinced him otherwise. Only the confession doesn't go as planned: Cas rejects him. Distraught and hurt, he heads to a bar to drink his sorrows away, and upon meeting a woman named Ruby, enters a whole new world. Now battling his broken heart and new substance dependance, he needs to decide what is more important: his (still ever-present and strong) feelings for Cas, or his new found "freedom" with Ruby.

we're the lifers here to til the bitter end (condemned from the start)

It had been days, weeks, months, years. He had been everywhere and nowhere and now he was here. It was…bright. After spending so long in a place filled with dark reds and low lighting, the only thing he remembered was pain. it was strange to see the world filled with bright colors and sunshine. It was pure. And it made his skin crawl. It was time to leave. Sooner or later someone would find them, and he didn’t want to be here when they did. “Alright then.” He smiled as he cleaned his blade off one of the clothes of one of the bodies on the floor. “Looks like I’m going to California. Can’t wait.” or Dean Winchester came back as a demon, and there is hell to pay.

the best of us can find happiness in misery

After he demonstrated them, Azula stalked over and clicked some type of cuffs on him. “Alright then, you’re our prisoner.” Confusion crossed Aang's face. “What? Why?” “Because you’re the avatar? And we were ordered to capture you?” She turned to Zuko. “Were we not clear about that?” Zuko shrugged. “I thought it was pretty clear, especially since we were going to burn down the village to find him.” Aang eyes widened. “You were actually serious?!” Together they said, “Of course were were.” Azula rolled her eyes. “I never make an empty threat.” "Exactly." Zuko nodded his head in agreement. "Father always says that if you are not willing to follow through on your threat then you shouldn’t make one in the first place.”

Some princes don't become kings (even at the best times I'm out of my mind)

Billy finds his dad much earlier. While his dad may not be the best person, surely he only wants to connect with Billy to be family again, right? Not anything else, regardless of what Freddie says. Along with juggling super powers and a nosy family, what is Billy to do?

Blessed be the boys time can't capture

There is a lot things Five doesn't talk about from the years he was alone. This is one of them.

[scullysexual]

Jewel Sequel: Abandoned

My first abandoned fic...yikies.

Maybe some of you saw this coming but I won’t be carrying on with the Jewel Sequel. Sometimes it happens, sometimes what’s a great idea in your head doesn’t translate well onto the page and that’s what happened here. I don’t have the biggest urge to write it because I’ve had such a turbulent relationship with it and all that has finalised my reasoning for abandoning it. 

I’m not going to leave you hanging, though. At a later date I will release a one-shot in that world but I think that’s as far as it’s going to go. Jewel (original) is my baby, it was the first multi-chapter fic I committed to and completed in a decent amount of time and it’s my most popular fic. I don’t need to replicate that by doing a sequel.

You can always read or reread A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight whenever, too. It will always be on my AO3 page. 

Going forward now I’m just going to focus upon Gone and getting that planned and posted, and the Whirlybird series. They’re my two main fics right now.

[sonoftatooine]

Febuwhump 2022

DAY 10 - ‘HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN?’

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, Sheev Palpatine

Warnings: Manipulation, implied abuse

Summary: AU - A sequel to my fic written for the alt day "not believed" for Whumpay 2021 which can be found here, where Anakin is rejected by the Jedi after the Battle of Naboo and given to Palpatine as an adopted son. Five years after the Chancellor's son barrelled into the Jedi Temple to accuse his father of being a secret Sith Lord, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi stumbles across a familiar face at a Senate party.

***

Night had settled over the Senate Building on Coruscant, and, surrounded as he was by flocks of the socialising high and mighty of the Republic, their finery gleaming in the low light like the plumage of flamboyant birds, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi could not think of anywhere he wanted to be less. After his long and tiring diplomatic mission to Onderon, the last thing he had wanted upon arriving on Coruscant was to spend even more time surrounded by squabbling politicians, but, unfortunately, duty had called. A Jedi presence had been expected at this...soiree of Chancellor Palpatine's, and the Council had decided he would be the one to go. And so here he was, forcing himself to smile politely at oblique question after question about how his mission had gone, reassuring partygoer after partygoer that, yes, everything was fine with the situation with Onderon, and no, he was sure there was no real basis for the whispers of Separatism stirring throughout swathes of Republic worlds. It would have grated on him less, he thought, had their concern truly been for the state of the Republic, but in far too many of them, he had sensed that their thoughts lingered only on their coffers.

It was at times like these that he remembered exactly why he disliked politicians.

"Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan turned around at the sound of the familiar voice. His eyes landed on the slim form of the former Queen turned Senator of Naboo, Padmé Amidala. Her face was bare of the white painted mask she had been adorned with when he had last laid eyes on her, but the manner of her dress—all jewelled and embroidered and heavily layered rich fabrics and her dark hair twisted into one of its bizarre styles that by his estimation must have taken at least three of her handmaidens to wrangle her tresses into—was no less elaborate than when she had once ruled her homeworld. Unlike the equally sumptuously-garbed people surrounding them, however, the smile tugging at her lips was warm and welcoming, with nothing in her eyes or her Force presence to indicate anything besides a genuine happiness to see him.

"It is good to see you again, Master Jedi," she said, extending out an elegant hand to invite him into her circle. "It has been too long."

Obi-Wan sent her a warm smile in return, feeling his glum spirits lift just a little at the sight of her. Obligingly, he took a step closer towards her, only to realise that what he had referred to in his mind as her "circle" really consisted of just one other person. A young man—more of a boy, really, probably somewhere in his late teens—with a mop of honey-coloured curls tumbling down past his chin, and a pair of bright blue eyes that were fixed firmly on the floor. He felt...odd in the Force, like an echo of a scream.

"Likewise, Senator Amidala," he replied. "Now, if you would be so kind as to introduce me to your companion? I don't believe we've had the pleas..."

Even as he spoke, he felt a gentle flash of amusement from Padmé in the Force. Before he could finish, the boy's eyes skittered up towards his face, and he trailed off mid-sentence. He knew those eyes, he knew—

"Force!," he exclaimed. "Anakin, is that you?!"

The boy's lips twitched upwards in a nervous smile.

"Hello, Master Kenobi."

The voice was deeper than he remembered, quieter and softer with his old Outer Rim accent no longer as strong as it once was, but it was unmistakably Anakin. His hair was longer than when he had last laid eyes on him, and his face had lost the childish roundness that it had still possessed at the age of twelve, transforming the little boy from his memory into a fine-boned, strong-jawed young man on the cusp of adulthood. Yet his eyes were the exact same shade of blue as he remembered, even if their brightness, like his Force presence, seemed...dimmed, diminished somehow. A sliver of—apprehension?, doubt?—snaked through Obi-Wan's gut, but he dismissed it. He hadn't seen Anakin in so long, he was probably just misremembering.

"I barely recognised you," he said, struck by a sudden sense of unreality at the sight of the boy he might have had as a padawan in another life (if he had been ready, if Yoda hadn't been so adamant he not be trained, if, if, if—) so grown. "Goodness, how long has it been since we last saw one another?"

At his words, Anakin's eyes darted back towards the floor. He fiddled nervously with the hem of his sleeve, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth.

"Five years" he murmured, his Force presence lighting up with distress and-and...

Ah. Ah yes.

His mind strayed back to the last time he had seen the boy. A few weeks after he had managed to slip away to the Jedi Temple from under his father's watchful eye with bizarre accusations about that same father on his tongue, Chancellor Palpatine had brought his wayward son before the Council to apologise. Obi-Wan had just returned from a long and tiring mission when he had been summoned to hear what the child had had to say—apparently the Chancellor, or perhaps the Chancellor on behalf of Anakin, had requested his presence—and in the intervening time, a more striking change could not have overcome him. Before, he had been defiant, feverishly insistent in his claims, refusing to listen to reason. But stood in the middle of the Council Chamber with the weight of the stares of twelve Jedi Masters on him, he had been quite the opposite. Contrite, gaze fixed on the patterns on the floor beneath his feet so he wouldn't have to look any one of them in the eye, he had apologised profusely, explaining with a humiliated flush to his cheeks and his Force presence crying out in misery that all he had wanted since he had been found on Tatooine was to be a Jedi, and he had thought that if the Council were to believe he managed to uncover a Sith Lord— the master of the man who had slain Qui-Gon—they might change their minds about rejecting him.

"Selfish wants, a Jedi must not pursue. Innocents, he must not seek to harm. Believe do you that as a Jedi you have acted, hmm?"

"I hope you understand the seriousness of your actions, young Skywalker. Had we believed your claims, it could have done irreparable harm to your father."

"I do understand, Master Windu. It won't happen again."

Then, once it was all over, when Anakin had been on the verge of bursting into tears at their stern reprimands, Palpatine had stepped forward and, with a quick thank you for their time, wrapped an arm about his distraught son's shoulders and led him gently out of the Council Chamber and back towards home. And that...that should have been the end of it.

It had not been the end of it.

Something about the situation had not sat right with Obi-Wan. It made sense that a child who had been caught lying and had been confronted with the true magnitude of his actions would be upset, but the level of distress he had sensed in the boy had seemed...beyond that, somehow. And then there was the memory of how he had reacted to Palpatine when he had come to collect him after he had sneaked away to the Temple, trying to shrink away, hiding himself behind the billowing sweep of Obi-Wan's robe. It was that, more than anything, that would not leave him alone. Surely that was not a normal reaction for a child who had spotted their guardian, even one who was angry with them? Obviously, Palpatine could not be a Sith—that was absurd—but the fear had been real. Could it not have been that there was something wrong, and it had been the only way Anakin felt he could express it, or get help? The possibility had rattled about in his brain with no right answer forthcoming no matter how much he meditated on it. If he could just see the boy, speak to him, make sure he was alright, and then he had been sure he would know, either way, what was the best thing to do.

But that had not gone as planned at all. The Chancellor had refused his request outright. He had sent Anakin to spend some time with mother, he had said, but even had he been on Coruscant, he would not have allowed Obi-Wan to see him.

"Please do not mistake this for cruelty on my part," he continued as Obi-Wan made to protest, his face full of such sincerity, such unhappiness and discomfort, that the young Jedi couldn't help but feel his resolve waver. "The last thing I should want is to be unfair—to either of you. As a matter of fact, it is Anakin's welfare that I am thinking of."

His welfare? Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say that that was exactly what he was thinking of too. He had seen the fear in him, and if he could just speak to him—just lay eyes on him again, then perhaps— He had seen it. He hadn't imagined it... Hadn't he?

His mouth shut with a click.

"You must understand," Palpatine continued, a sad, tired smile gracing his thin lips, "that even after all this time on Coruscant, it has been...difficult for Anakin to adjust to life as my son. The life he led before was so different. The things he did on Tatooine—the podracing, going out into dangerous areas alone—I cannot allow him to do here, for his own safety. I don't think he quite understands that that is not how we treat children in the Republic—he sees it as me trying to curtail his freedoms."

The exhaustion and resignation in his voice had a quality to it that reminded him of masters in the Order with difficult padawans—that of a protective but not entirely appreciated guardian, who list wanted their charge safe and well despite said charge's efforts to constantly sabotage them. Once again, Obi-Wan felt a sliver of doubt enter his mind, eating away at his resolve. But still...but still...

"Forgive me, Your Excellency," he replied with a frown, "but I don't quite see what that has to do with me not being able to see him—"

"What I am trying to say, Master Jedi," Palpatine interrupted him, firmly but not unkindly, "is that I fear the Order's rejection of him has made his problems adjusting all the harder for him. I told your Council that after the...incident."

His mouth twisted into a grimace, discomfort and embarrassment spiking around his Force presence as he prepared to continue.

"I have no wish to cast blame," he clarified, "and I certainly don't want to dictate to the Jedi Council who they should choose to admit into the Order, but I do think you could face handled the situation with a little more kindness."

Obi-Wan blinked.

"Kindness?"

"Master Kenobi," Palpatine said and there was a note of stern flatness in his tone now. "Anakin was a scared slave child who had just been taken from his mother to an uncertain future when your master brought him before the Jedi. Whatever...philosophical issues prevented you from accepting him, that was not what he saw in your rejection. To him, your Council simply decided he was not only worthless, but dangerous. As far as he knew at the time, he had nowhere to go if you did not take him in. Can you imagine how frightening that would have been for a nine year old?"

The proper answer—the Jedi answer—should have been that fear led to the Dark Side, and that Anakin had known too much of that fear in his short life to be able to reliably guard against it if trained. The Jedi answer, however, was not what Obi-Wan thought of upon hearing those words. What he thought of was looking over a Coruscanti sunset with Qui-Gon by his side, his pride smarting, trying to persuade his master of what the rest of them saw—that the boy was dangerous. He remembered how they had turned around to see little Anakin standing behind them, shrinking in on himself, whispering that he didn't want to be a problem. He had definitely been quieter around Obi-Wan after that, more reserved, but he had been so busy licking his own wounds that he had barely even noticed it. A hot wave of shame burnt like lava in his chest.

"I do not want my son to be so dependent on the Jedi's opinion of his worth," Palpatine said, and for the first time in their meeting, he sounded not just firm, or stern, but hard, a hint of recrimination in his voice. "Especially not if it leads to instances like this one. I think it would be best for him if we make a clean break of it."

And what could Obi-Wan say to that? He had had no choice but to skulk back to the Temple with his tail between his legs, feeling sick and ashamed and so many tangled, complicated emotions that were beneath the composed Jedi Knight he was supposed to be. No more than a day later, he assumed Palpatine must have informed the Jedi Council of both their meeting and his wishes regarding Anakin, for Yoda had called him to his meditation chamber to discuss his actions.

Obi-Wan had tried to defend himself as best he could, and in response, Yoda had not been unkind, but he had not been strictly approving either. "Requested distance between the Order and his son, the Chancellor has," he had said, his disconcerting green gaze boring into him in that peculiar way of his, as if he could see right into his soul. "Respect that wish, we must. Concerned for young Skywalker you say you are, Obi-Wan, but be mindful of your feelings you must be. True concern is this, or from your promise—your attachment—to Qui-Gon does this come?" And to his horror, Obi-Wan had found that he didn't know the answer. Had he been genuinely, without bias or motive hidden even from himself, worried for Anakin's welfare? Had he really seen that fear in him, or had he allowed his guilt—the guilt that had never truly left him no matter how much he tried to release it into the Force—over the promise to his late master that he had failed to keep to turn the demeanour of a troubled boy upset about a coming reprimand from his father into something more sinister in his mind just to feel as if he were somehow fulfilling it? He had thought back to Palpatine's words, to how tired and drained he had felt in the Force. He had sensed no deception in him, and surely if there was, he would have sensed it—the Chancellor was not Force sensitive, he couldn't hope to conceal his true nature from a Jedi. No, all he had wanted was to protect his son and Obi-Wan had...had... He thought of Palpatine's hard look and talk of kindness, of asking Qui-Gon if he had picked up another "pathetic lifeform" on Tatooine. Perhaps, he had decided as he had returned to his quarters with Yoda's warnings about attachments ringing in his ears, some distance would be for the best.

Until now.

Staring into the boy's flushed face, seeing him try to shrink in on himself and melt into the floor, it was clear to him that Anakin remembered what had transpired during their last two meetings as clearly as he did. He was probably both uncomfortable and embarrassed being made to think back on it, both at the memory of his behaviour and the issues that had caused it. Obi-Wan hoped all of a sudden that it was just embarrassment that had him reacting so. The last thing he wanted to do was distress him with his presence.

"Well, it is good to see you again," he said, hoping to reassure the child, turn his thoughts away from any discomfort he may feel over an incident long past. He cast about for a new topic, landing on a conversation opener so bland it almost made him wince. "Is this your first time at one of these gatherings? I don't think I've seen you here before."

Anakin nodded, his curls bobbing up and down at the motion. His gaze migrated up to somewhere in the region of Obi-Wan's nose as he opened his mouth to speak.

"My m—" He stumbled oddly, just for a second, and in that second, something almost like panic flashed through his eyes. A moment, and then it was gone as if it had never been. What was...? He thought he might have sensed... Had he imagined—? "My father thought I was too young before."

As he spoke, he glanced over his shoulder to where the man in question stood, tugging agitatedly at the fine hem of his sleeve. Chancellor Palpatine, as always at these occasions, was surrounded by a veritable throng of politicians, aides and various other officials all trying to curry his favour, but Obi-Wan got the sense somehow that his attention was not so much on them, but on keeping an eye on his young son. It would not surprise him if that were the case—the Chancellor was notoriously protective of Anakin.

There was no reason for that to make him feel uneasy. There was no reason to feel uneasy.

That uneasiness sat with him no matter how hard he tried to banish it as the conversation meandered on. Perhaps it was the slight feeling of unreality that the three of them together after so many years apart had induced in him—he remembered well the last time they had stood together, watching Qui-Gon's body burn and Anakin wanting to know what would happen to him, answers he couldn't provide because Yoda would not allow him to be trained and it had not yet decided on what was the best course of action to take—but somehow, he thought there was something more to it than that. Padmé had not changed all that much—she was older of course, but the young woman stood before him was not so different from the brave girl queen who had stood up for her people when violence was threatened against her homeland—but Anakin... The boy who had barrelled into his and Qui-Gon's life in a whirl of brightness and enthusiasm and sand, who had been so excited to meet a Jedi and had not been shy about letting them know...that boy was barely recognisable in the quiet young man he had become. Where before he had been bold and forthright, he was now nervous and withdrawn. From what he remembered, Anakin had once been capable of talking the montrals off a Togruta, chatting about anything and everything that popped into his head. But now, he hardly said anything at all, and it was all he and Padmé could do to encourage him to speak up, often having to resort to direct questions to get him to join in the conversation. Another wave of is this me?, am I making him uncomfortable being here? washed over him. Surely so great a change could not have come over the boy without some sort of explanation? But then, he hadn't seen him since he was twelve, and Anakin was the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic's son. There would be a lot of pressure on him to conduct himself well at what was by all accounts his debut into society. Perhaps he was feeling nervous about not messing up—really it could have been anything, it didn't mean it had anything to do with him.

(Obi-Wan was sure it had something do with him. Something about him and Anakin and the Chancellor was still watching in the distance, he knew it, keeping a careful eye—)

"Oh, do you still have Threepio?"

Padmé's question came suddenly, as if it were something that had just popped into her head in response to Anakin's tentative reply to their questions about his lessons. Obi-Wan was pulled abruptly away from the thoughts that had been whirling through his mind as he listened to the boy speak, his talk about his advanced engineering classes having finally brought out a ghost of the old enthusiasm he remembered from out of his shell. Threepio?, he wondered, curious. What was threepio?

"He's a protocol droid," Anakin explained, answering the unspoken question that Obi-Wan assumed must have been clear on his face—or possibly even in his Force presence. With a midichorian count as high as that, even untrained, Anakin would probably pick up a lot of the stray surface feelings that were not worth the effort of fully shielding. "I built him."

He didn't elaborate, but Padmé seemed more than happy to in his place, a soft, fond smile gracing her delicate lips as she regarded him.

"Ani showed him to me when we landed on Tatooine," she said. "He's very good—very proper. Did you get the chance to finish him off?"

Anakin ducked his head shyly, but for the first time that night, it didn't seem to stem from nerves or discomfort. His presence in the Force—for the first time that evening—lit up with a faint, gentle happiness at the words, and his lips curved into a small but genuine smile. Obi-Wan recalled, faintly, that the boy had once been rather enamoured with the young queen, in the innocent way that only a nine year old could be, but for the most part, he was too distracted by the knowledge that the nine year old in question had apparently built an entire droid—an entire droid that functioned—to really considered it. That kind of skill...well, that kind of skill would let him go far, quite apart from both his father and any expectations and judgements the Jedi had inadvertently heaped on his shoulders all those years ago.

"He's with my mom," Anakin said. His lower lip trembled slightly, the slight happiness fading from his Force presence along with his smile, and he bit down on it again, hard enough that Obi-Wan half expected him to draw blood. "He's got plating now. Mom put it on before..."

His voice trailed away into nothing but a faint whisper. For a moment, he looked like he was about to cry. Obi-Wan glanced over to Padmé, his gaze questioning. Before what? Padmé did not return his look, her own eyes trained on Anakin, full of sympathy and sadness, and not for the first time that evening, he felt unease spark in his gut.

"She got sick a few years after we left Tatooine," Anakin piped up suddenly, head still bowed, not meeting either of their eyes. "It was just after I...five years ago. No visitors allowed—it's not good for her."

Obi-Wan sensed no surprise from Padmé at this news, so clearly the information was for his benefit and not hers, but it seemed not even talking to him directly could induce the boy to look him fully in the eye. Mind racing, he tried to recall what he knew of Shmi Skywalker. He remembered that the Chancellor had freed her from slavery after he adopted Anakin—it had been one of the reasons he had been so shocked to hear the child accuse the man of being a Sith Lord, calling him evil, when he had such a reason to be grateful to him—and set her up in a remote property in the Naboo countryside, but other than that, he had never thought much on the woman before. He had certainly never known that she was ill? Ill with what? It must be something truly terrible for her to be so fragile as to not been permitted visitors. What had it been like for Anakin to find that out so soon after...after everything.

He thought back to what it had felt like after Qui-Gon's death, struggling to eat or get out of bed, to find the will to do anything, let alone release his grief into the Force as a good Jedi should. No wonder the child was so subdued if his mother—the mother whom his fear, his attachment for had been enough to see him rejected by the Order—was as sick as all that.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, sincerely. Anakin gave him a tiny nod of acknowledgement, but he did not speak, as if to open his mouth would unleash a torrent of emotion that he could no longer hold back. Once again that evening, Obi-Wan found himself casting about for a new topic to distract him from his hurts. "It sounds like you're excelling in your classes. Your father must be very proud."

He had thought that the praise, the mention of the Chancellor's pride in him might do something, however slight, to cheer him up, but if anything, it seemed to do the opposite. Anakin shrank even further in on himself, and for a moment, Obi-Wan thought he sensed something...something...

"He...takes a lot of interest in my-my...education—"

"Ah, Master Kenobi."

Anakin's fumbling reply was cut off amidst a violent start of surprise at the sound of the familiar voice. At some point over the course of their conversation, Chancellor Palpatine had managed to extract himself from the crowd surrounding him, and had made his way over to their little circle without any of them noticing. Anakin turned to him, wide-eyed, and for a moment, he looked—he looked—

"I'm glad to see you were able to attend," Palpatine continued. He sent his son a gentle smile as he reached out and pressed the flat of his palm to his back. Anakin held his gaze for a long moment before bowing his head and once again fixing his eyes on the floor. "How was your mission to Onderon?"

"I thank you for the invitation, Your Excellency," Obi-Wan replied. Strictly speaking, the Chancellor would already know all the details of his mission from the report he had submitted to the Senate earlier that day, but it was only polite to ask about it, and for him to respond in kind—even if he was sick to death by now of speaking of it. "The mission was a success. I believe that the Jedi's intervention allowed an amicable agreement to be reached by all parties."

"Good, good," Palpatine said. "The Republic is fortunate to have a Jedi of such skill as yourself in its service, Master Kenobi. Now, my dear," he turned to Padmé with one of his signature benevolent smiles, "I am terribly sorry to intrude, but I wonder if I might borrow Anakin for a little while? There are some people I would like to introduce him to."

Anakin twitched oddly, his eyes darting towards Padmé and Obi-Wan in turn before trailing back to the floor. His hands had slipped, hidden, into the billowing sleeves of his robe, but Obi-Wan could see the motion of his fingers twisting together beneath them.

"Of course, Chancellor," Padmé replied. Reaching out, she brushed the tips of her fingers lightly against Anakin's elbow, giving him an encouraging smile. "I will see you later, Ani."

Anakin nodded, glancing over at his father. Now that the Chancellor was there to speak on his behalf, he was even more reticent than before.

"Come along, my boy" Palpatine said with a slight jerk of his head in the direction of the throng of people he had left behind. Anakin looked apprehensive at the sight, but he nodded obediently nonetheless.

"Yes, Father," he murmured. Turning back to Obi-Wan and Padmé, he gave them a shallow, formal bow. "Senator Amidala, Master Kenobi, it was nice to see you again."

"And you, Anakin" Obi-Wan said gently. His gaze turned from the boy's face to the Chancellor's pale eyes. He couldn't help but shiver at what he saw. Something...something that was... All of a sudden, despite all his courtesy—flattery even—he couldn't help but feel that Palpatine has not forgotten the damage he had claimed the Jedi had done his son. Not at all.

Swallowing thickly, he held the man's gaze for one long moment, something about his polite but not quite friendly smile setting his teeth on edge for reasons he could not explain. Then, with a nod to both himself and Padmé, Palpatine turned away, guiding Anakin along with him by the hand at his back. Anakin went without comment or complaint, and for one brief second before the pair were swallowed up by the crowd, Obi-Wan was reminded sharply of the time the Chancellor had come to fetch his wayward son from the Temple all those years ago. The child had looked over his shoulder at him, then, as he had been led away, the look in his eyes...the look in his eyes...

This time, Anakin did not look back.

[grogusmum]

The Merling's Prince

Sequel to Oberyn’s Merling (link to part 1)

OBERYN MARTELL X MERLING!READER (gender neural)

WARNING: 18+ gets a little spicy, outercourse (can you call it dry humping if one of you is part fish?) Some pining, we live in different worlds type feels.

Oberyn did not tell Ellaria for a full week about the merling, the waterfall, the Yew stand that once inside seemed to go on and on. Not because he wished to keep anything from his paramore, never, she was not only his beloved, but she was his best council, his trusted confidante and she knew him better than anyone. But would she believe him? He hardly does. Perhaps she would send for the maester.

As always, he should never have worried when it comes to Ellaria. She listens to his story, intently, engrossed in his colorful descriptions. He finishes, waiting for her verdict. Ellaria looks at her Prince, he looks so solemn, she has to laugh. But lovingly. She jokes that it is literally ‘quite a fish story’, but she believes him. Of course, she does. She relishes the story, truth be told. She asks questions. Everything, from the ferns and flowers to the color of the merling’s eyes. And when he asks her if she wishes to come with him to see if the place, if you could be found again, she smiles and shows her infinite wisdom.

"My darling, some magic, cannot be shared. It maybe that this merling is for you alone."

He kisses her, "I wish to share all of myself and my treasures with you, my love. We can go if it only exists for me, well, I guess it will be unfindable...”

“No, Oberyn, if you disrespect the magic, it could be gone forever… or worse.”

He looks at her, kissing her head.

“Perhaps I should just ask the merling, no?”

“Go see if you can even go back, and if it seems appropriate, ask, I would love nothing more than to meet your merling, my Prince.”

He set out at his first opportunity. The Yew Forest is just as it was when Oberyn found it a fortnight or so ago. The purple and yellow flowers and ferns, the birds calling high in the trees all there then he hears it, the rush of water, a shiver shoots through him.

It has been lonely for you. Oberyn’s visit to your pool was, well, you were not sure. Time was soft and malleable in the wood, even for you. It feels so awfully long. Before Oberyn stumbled into your glade, you had been without anyone happening upon your pool for ages, and even longer since you had any real companionship. The meeting has awakened dormant feelings in you. You wonder momentarily if it would have been better if he never had. Picking up speed, you swim another circuit around the circumference of your pool, trying to put distance between you and such thoughts.

You dip under the spray of the falls, well below the surface, loving the feeling of the churning water and bubbles it creates. The sensation on your body, like a pulsing embrace, rousing memories of Oberyn’s arms tightly wound around you, his hands gentle but confidently exploring your torso, dorsal fin, the pectoral ruff. You rise to the surface behind the cascade of the falls, within an alcove. You find the echo it creates pleasing. You begin your song low and quiet, with words not understood by humans, but it slowly builds, sweet and full of longing.

Oberyn stops dead in his tracks. It is as if the entire forest was singing, even the birds stop to listen. Suddenly and to his surprise Oberyn’s eyes prickle with tears, the sound so beautiful but so bittersweet. He picks up his pace, though he had wanted to stay as quiet as possible. Oberyn enters the glade, coming to the edge of the water. Sunlight filters through the trees and jewel-colored dragonflies hover over the water.

He removes his clothes and boots, laying them on a rock. The singing stops. The glade is silent except for the falls. No sooner than Oberyn can slip into the cool depths, raising goosebumps on his flesh, you glide below the surface. Oberyn holds his breath, his body already tingling though you have not yet touched him. Slowly, your head breaks the surface. You bob in front of Oberyn inches away, eyes wide, and a small smile playing on your lips. Oberyn smiles at you, yours widens. He has returned to you. Light, once again, bends in the spray from the linn and colors dance.

“My sweet merling,” Oberyn begins, as he reaches to caress your cheek. You lean into it, eyes closing. “I hope you do not mind that I have returned to your company.”

You shake your head, large eyes warm and welcoming. You peck a quick kiss on Oberyn’s cheek, then dart about. Were you fleeing him? Oberyn’s confusion lasts but a moment and is quickly replaced with realization that you swimming a figure eight with him at its junction is an expression of joy.

Circling him, you swim a pirouette with a laugh like babbling brook, he can not help laughing too. Your circles tighten around him until he can feel your tail, your graceful arms, even the long tendrils of your hair, at first just a graze, then wrapping around him. Oberyn does not try to hide the groan that falls from his lips. Heat rises in him, he cannot help but wonder if the temperature of the water around him hasn’t actually risen, too. It is imperceptible to him, but you can feel it...

Your head and shoulders break the surface again, as your lower body snaked around him, your wet hair is a cascade, partially covering your chest, your pectoral ruff fluttering in the water. Your head cocked to one side; lips parted. You are marvel, he thinks.

“Beautiful,” Oberyn murmurs, taking hold of your chin gently.

The anticipation is becoming overwhelming, though, he wonders again where would or could this go... Your tail still around him, your arms come to rest on his broad shoulders, then your hands sit innocently enough on his neck, but it sends signals straight below. You bring your mouth to his, more assertively than last time, gone is tentative experimentation, it is replaced with confidence. You are not sure how long you have him.

Could you keep him? You banish the thought; it does not work that way. This type of thinking only leads to sorrow.

 Oberyn brings a hand to the back of your head, holding you too him, the kiss deepens further, his tongue asking permission to enter, it is granted, your tongue explores his.

You begin to pull him toward the falls, wanting to share the glorious feeling of the bubbles and agitated water. Oberyn relinquished control to few, perhaps truly only to Ellaria, but you have joined this short list. You take him under the falls, down below. Again, his body reacts momentarily to the lack of air, though he knows now he is safe from drowning. He opens his eyes not wanting to miss anything.

The effervescence of the bubbles tickles his skin, the churning water gives pleasing pressure. Your hair floats like a cloud around your head, your webbed fingers rake Oberyn’s dark cropped hair, he can see small fish, like little silver darts zinging passed in tight groups. Shooting stars in a blue green sky. His hands rove your sides, he has avoided your tail until now… his hands slide down your sides to the place in which your body transitions from human to fish, the scales are smooth and slick, soft and plush with powerful muscle beneath. You arch into his chest, responding to his greedy touch, he hears your throaty moan.

You draw him further down so your back rests on the sandy floor of the pool your hair moving in cross currents. In your world now, he is yours, if only for a short time. You run your mouth over his collarbone and neck, and he can’t resist pressing himself against you, hard against your softness, his hands holding your waist. He kisses your chest, your lips on the top of his head.

He is lost in you, and you in him. Twisting with him wrapped in your fin, mouths hungry to taste one another, wherever you both can reach. His hips begin to move against you… You being to rise, Oberyn deflates, part of him wants to take control, he has no interest in stopping, or for you to slip away. But you have brought him behind the falls, into your alcove.

Oberyn breathes deep filling his lungs with air and takes in his new surroundings. The sunlight is green and shimmers in here, like crystals hanging in a window. You unravel you tail from him and slide up a smooth rock and sit half in half out of the water. Your fingers playing in his curls. He joins you, taking some of the control he relinquished back, he takes you by the waist as he reclines, so his back is resting on the rock with you draped across his chest, your tail between his legs. Oberyn wants to make you his in all the ways he knows how, though he is well aware cannot. The undulation of your tail creates a friction against him that causes him to hiss. He runs is fingers up your dorsal fin, it opens to his touch, you give small gasp, your tail moves with urgency, reflexively his hips buck into you. Oh, the sounds you make, it spurs him on, his hands take on a firmer hold, his hips roll as you press into him. His mouth on your shoulders, nipping and kissing at your clavicle and down your sternum. Oberyn, may not be able to make you his in all the ways he would like, but he is no quitter. And though he is not a man prone to flights of fancy he has an excellent imagination. The small cavern is alive with sound, brazen and loving at once, but there is plantive desperation as you bring about a mutual crescendo. You have each other, in this moment, and this must be enough. The stars may align again, but there is no guarantee, you can not truly live in each other’s worlds, you can only visit.

Oberyn’s arms wrap around you, holding you in his lap, as he whispers sweet words into your ear, you hum in response, he showers you with promises to return, of love, to never forget. You hold on to his shoulders, your face buried in the sweet crook of his neck, a new song begins in your chest soft and deep, rising like a tide, bittersweet, loving, there is hope there. You are his, and he is yours, here, in your turquoise pool, within the verdant glade, wrapped in the forest of Yew.

If you enjoyed Oberyn and his Merling, here's a link to a continuing series!

@its--fandom--darling @seasonschange-butpeopledont @jessie-writes-things @pedro4ever @oloreaa @firstofficerwiggles @tobealostwanderer

@oonajaeadira

[your-brilliant-lady-m]

Part 1 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Miraculous Jewels

Alright! I promised you meta and now I deliver!

I feel like people mostly watch Miraculous for the romance these days. Shipping is all everyone cares about. I wonder why? Probably because writers themselves don't take their worldbuilding very seriously and because they don't put much effort into making the audience care about something other than Love Square, like the mythology behind the Miraculous, or motivations of the main villain, or some pretty heavy topics for a kid's show that they bring up and then refuse to touch again. You know, all the good things. And this is coming from someone who is a passionate multishipper. I have lived through several shipping wars in different fandoms and came out victorious after all.

I am probably the only person out there who cares about the big picture, the overall storyline and the worldbuilding of Miraculous in addition to all details and implications that could develop into fascinating plotlines relevant to the main story. It is a rather lonely fandom experience, I must confess. But, hey? Who cares? I am here to have fun and bring to the table discussions no one wants to have.

So, let's talk about the basics.

If you, as the writing team, are capable of keeping only 1 thing consistent, then please, I beg you, let it be the basic concepts of your universe. Because in this case, one has to actively put effort into writing characters and conflict resolutions badly. And also because nothing can save bad worldbuilding.

I don't have high worldbuilding standards for Miraculous. They certainly aren't as high as the ones I had for Legend of Korra (which was a badly written trainwreck, that ATLA doesn't deserve as a sequel) or the ones I currently have for Dragon Prince. Therefore I won't be too harsh in my criticisms. Granted, I think that Miraculous has better worldbuilding and lore consistency than Winx Club for example (I haven't seen the reboot yet, so writers might have fixed their worldbuilding at least a little bit). Even though I enjoyed Winx when I was younger and some elements of this story still attract me.

Both serialised and episodic shows as well as movies to the lesser extent must have some flexibility in worldbuilding and plot because you can never be 100% sure where your story is going. Maybe, you'll get money for more seasons, maybe not. However, you must never lose sight of your basic concepts. They have to stay the same no matter what, because rewriting lore and retconning major developments every new season is not and never will be called good writing.

Forgive me for using architectural metaphors, but you need a solid foundation to build any kind of structure. Otherwise, everything falls apart.

I like to apply this logic to writing as well. When designing a world where your story takes place, you must lay a few ground rules. It's especially important if you have a magic system. What kind of ideas absolutely must exist? What kind of conclusion do you want your story to have? Does your magic system has limitations? Where is the grey area? Could you introduce new elements later on?

And I feel like the writing team of Miraculous Ladybug did not ask these questions. This may feel like I am nit-picking canon material and looking for problems that simply aren't there, but I promise that I am not. You see, things that I am about to point out only seem small at first glance. But these details are actually the source of the largest plotholes in the series. And their presence negatively affects character development, conflicts and resolutions of said conflicts.

That doesn't mean that I have nothing good to say about the magic system of the show and its elements. There are a lot of great ideas and concepts. And some of them have the potential to contribute to the delightful story.

Let's dive right into it, shall we?

Camouflage

I have to give credit where it's due because the idea of camouflage and shapeshifting for Miraculouses is brilliant. It seems like Miraculous can't fundamentally change its type of jewellery or accessory. The ring will always be the ring but with a different ornament, colour or shape. This is true most of the time (Monkey Miraculous is an exception since it transformed into earplugs/headphones/headband/circlet) It makes sense and avoids plotholes. Grimoire doesn't have the pictures of each Miraculous in disguise for identity protection. That was very neat too. I have no comments. This concept was very good.

Also, since Marinette wore a nose ring of the Ox in "Kwamibuster" without any problem and Adrien wore Ladybug's earrings in "Reflekdoll", we can assume that you don't need to have piercings to wear a Miraculous. Miraculous just magically passes through your skin.

I'm interested to know the following. Can Kwamis recognise a camouflaged Miraculous on a person? Can the holder order them to confess the identity of this person? This shouldn't be possible for identity protection just like with Kwamis sensing each other. But more on that in later posts.

Power Levels

For a long time, we assume that there are only 7 Miraculouses. Turtle belongs to Master Fu, Gabriel has Butterfly and Peacock, Marinette and Adrien have Ladybug and Black Cat. Everything is pretty straightforward. Then it's revealed that there are more jewels and more boxes. It makes the worldbuilding interesting, but it also majorly complicates things, making them inconsistent.

Their position in the Miracle Box implies their power levels. Creation and destruction are the most powerful forces in existence, therefore they are at the top. Moreover, it makes this Box the most important, the most powerful out of all others. Su Han in "Furious Fu" calls it "Mother Miracle Box". Fox, Turtle, Bee, Butterfly and Peacock have less power than the main pair, but more than the Miraculous of the lower Zodiac tier (since they correspond with animals of the Chinese Zodiac).

1. Ladybug can create anything out of nothing (Lucky Charm, which gives what you need the most at the moment). This Miraculous can resurrect the dead, reverse the effects of the Cataclysm. The power of Miraculous Cure or Miraculous Ladybug can work in several ways:

it simply repairs the damage (puts stuff back together, heals injuries and so on)

it reverses time for the matter, restoring things back to the state they were before the destruction occurred (however, the Cure doesn't erase people's memories of everything that happened unless they were mind-controlled, frozen in place or transformed by Akuma into something else - this is an important point that I'll discuss some other time)

How does Miraculous Cure work when there are no supervillians? In NY Special Marinette just says this.

Excuse me, what? What was that? You can't do anything when the villain is gone? What the hell?

*insert here every scene where Ladybug fixed Paris after destroying akumatized/amokized object (this action causes the Akuma victim to detransform/sentimonster to disappear - villain is gone) and purifying butterfly and feather*

It was such cheap angst. I couldn't even be upset when Adrien gave up his Miraculous, because that whole situation is just stupid. But, never mind. We aren't talking about that today.

Apparently, Lucky Charm and Miraculous Cure only work when summoned to battle a specific villain. What is the point then? Huh? You can't tell me that Ladybug has the power of unlimited creation and then say that she can't repair the damage without a special Lucky Charm that was magically synchronised with specific big bad of the week.

Ladybug also can purify Akumas. It makes sense for Ladybug to have the ability to reverse the magic of less powerful Miraculous. But this power can't be applied universally. How does this power of reversal apply to different situations where there is no evil Butterfly holder? Can Ladybug reverse the magic of any Miraculous?

The unlimited power of creation introduced in season 4 ("Mr. Pidgeon 72") is another fascinating thing. On one hand, it's logical and proves the status of this Miraculous as the most powerful. On the other hand, by introducing this power, you have created a plothole. Look, Marinette can create the charm which repels Akumas. If Ladybug can create anything then what stops her from creating a tool for finding Hawkmoth (like special glasses for discovering identities or a compass)? I mean, the show says that the power of creation is unlimited, it means that the creation of such tool is possible.

2. Black Cat can destroy anything with Cataclysm, even other Miraculous. He can kill living things and turn them into ash, but not himself. This Miraculous is supposed to have other special abilities that we don't see. And they should be equal to powers of Ladybug, both in number and in potency. Unfortunately, after 3 seasons writers didn't give us anything. It makes laughable the idea of balance between Ladybug and Black Cat.

Now, to the second tier. These Miraculouses have a singular ability, but they need a second one to keep the power balanced between Zodiac and the main pair.

3. Butterfly creates champions with different superpowers. But how does the time limit of children work for Butterfly? In theory, the countdown should start right after the creation of the Akuma since for Ladybug and Chat Noir countdown starts after activation of their powers even if they don't use them. However, if the countdown of the Butterfly begins after Akuma creation then there's no point because the holder has to stay transformed to guide their champion. The charged butterfly won't have time to even grant powers before the transformation of the child-holder drops. This issue is never explored because Gabriel doesn't have a time limit. However, I feel like it should be addressed in flashbacks of past Butterfly holders for example.

This Miraculous should be less powerful than Ladybug and Black Cat. It's often not. Some Akumas are too overpowered. Stormy Weather can move the Earth away from the Sun, Timetagger can send people through time and jump through time as well, Chat Blanc destroyed the world with a single energy blast, Miraculer could steal powers of those more powerful than her by default. These are the most notable examples. One could argue that Chat Blanc was a different case. Hawkmoth simply gave the most powerful Miraculous a boost. However, we know that even without a holder (the wildest and the most powerful form of uncontrolled Miraculous magic) Plagg's Cataclysm can't destroy the universe just like that (he presumably wiped out dinosaurs and sunk Atlantis on his own without a holder). I think that the less powerful Miraculous (Butterfly) shouldn't be able to increase the power of destruction to such a degree and give Black Cat the power to destroy celestial bodies and galaxies.

Writers want us to see Hawkmoth as the formidable villain. But it's not easy because he is less powerful than your main heroes by default of your worldbuilding. Sometimes writers make the Butterfly more powerful than creation and destruction to raise the stakes, breaking the laws of their magic system. So, how do you solve this? Let Ladybug and Black Cat keep their status as the most powerful and instead of giving Hawkmoth more magical power, make him smarter, more cunning, inventive. Gabriel is a fashion designer, whose creativity makes him a very good Butterfly holder. He has a life full of experience, he knows much more about things than the main teenage characters. Catalyst was very interesting for this very reason. Gabriel sort of discovered a cheat code to boost his powers. Show us how he experiments with his powers, how he analyses his past Akumas and tries to find the most effective ones. Maybe Gabriel tries to design Akumas that can specifically neutralise Ladybug and Chat Noir. This exploration could also give writers an opportunity to explain how the powers of Butterfly work. Can he control the type of powers he grants? Can he control the appearance of Akumas? There are many things to be explored.

4. Peacock creates sentimonsters. I remember that fans were very disappointed when the power of the Peacock was revealed at the end of season 2. I was one of them. The concept of Amoks is far too similar to akumatized butterflies. Other Miraculouses have unique abilities and keywords for their powers, while Peacock just looks like Butterfly 2.0. That glowing mask effect just adds insult to injury.

You have to start by figuring out the powers of the Peacock in a normal situation. If a holder is a good person, then how does their power work? For example, make them related to sight (because of the "eye" pattern on feathers). Maybe, Peacock grants the ability to see the several possibilities of the future, but only a few minutes ahead. Maybe, this Miraculous gives you the ability to see through someone's eyes for a few minutes (and the victim is completely unaware of the intrusion). Perhaps, Peacock allows the holder to use feathers (or tiny peacocks) as cameras one at a time and be all-seeing. These feather-spies can be destroyed by the holder or disappear on their own after some time. Such power could be devastating when used against heroes in canon.

5. Bee can paralyze. This power is pretty straightforward. Once I read a fanfiction focused on very vell done Chloe Redemption, where she fights alongside Ladybug and Chat Noir. Eventually, she grows and becomes a better person. This fic ends with an Akuma battle, where LB and CN are trapped and Akuma is ready to kill them. But Chloe uses a second power of the Bee on the villain - Miraculous Stinger. It's deadly both for the holder and for the victim (because bees die when they sting someone). Chloe kills the Akuma with a Stinger before it can get LB and CN, but she too dies making the ultimate irreversible sacrifice. I will add a link if I find it again.

6. Turtle can create a shield. I don't have much to say on this either. It feels underpowered compared to others in the second tier. Maybe Turtle can also slow down opponents (because turtles aren't the fasters animals out there).

7. Fox creates illusions and acts as their puppeteer. In order to create a balance between other powers, these illusions must hold for as long as the holder needs them to. I propose this mostly because we see that Venom of the Bee lasts very long, the shield of the Turtle lasts either until it's destroyed or the holder wants to remove it, same goes for Akumas and sentimonsters who disappear only when the holder wants them to or their affected object is destroyed.

Let's talk about Zodiac tier. Miraculous of the third tier shouldn't have the second ability like more powerful ones. These powers are the most inconsistent. Even if we haven't seen all of them yet.

8. Mouse can create many small clones of the holder. It is unclear how these clones communicate with each other and how many of them this Miraculous can create. The holder can control the number of clones. This power was very convenient in "Kwamibuster" and it makes sense symbolically for the mouse. What activates the time-limit for children? Marinette didn't have any problems with it when she became Multimouse.

9. Snake can create a 5-minute time loop and has the ability to come back in time. This Miraculous feels a bit overpowered for the Miraculous of the Zodiac Tier. The holder can reset the time as many times as he/she needs to. It's was a good source of drama and trauma in "Desperada". I was honestly surprised that Adrien was capable of fighting after spending months in a loop. But this doesn't change the fact that Snake is overpowered. You can give this Miraculous the power to hypnotise or keep the time ability but place a limit on the number of resets. How does the lyre work as a weapon? Who knows? No one!

10. Dragon can shapeshift into elements: water, wind and lightning. It has the coolest transformation words hands down (Bring the Storm and Open Sky). Apparently this Miraculous doesn't have the time limit.

11. Rabbit can time travel or jump through alternative realities, even writers aren't sure. Time-travel in this show is so badly written it gives me a headache. This Miraculous shouldn't exist just like its powers. Snake belongs to the same tier, but 5 minutes and whole centuries of time jumps aren't comparable in power levels. They are not and this is the hill I will die on. Give the Rabbit powers related to its symbolism in China like an ability to de-age people, heal them or give them a speed boost in contrast with Turtle who might have the ability to slow down.

This Miraculous is so special that its Kwami - Fluff can live separately from his Miraculous in a Miracle Box for millennia (Fluff lives in the Box in "Sandboy", but his Miraculous, pocket watch, was passed down for generations in Alix's family). This is a discussion for a separate post, however. There's a lot to unpack. We'll do that some other time. You will suffer with me but at a later date.

12. Horse can create portals. They could lead anywhere, which is pretty cool. On the other hand, this power is not very useful in direct combat, especially when it's used by a child since we can have only one portal per transformation.

13. Monkey can cause a malfunction in powers of other people. What is the point of this? This power was specifically created by writers to defeat Akuma in "Party Crasher". That's it. What if your target is not magical? How does this Miraculous work in different circumstances?

14. Pig shows people their greatest desire. Both the holder and the recipient of this power can see this desire. Chat Noir wasn't impressed in "Guiltrip" and neither was I. It's underpowered compared to other Miraculous in this tier. Also, why does the tambourine can shoot energy beams? Why?

That's all I have to say on the matter. I'll update the power analysis as needed.

[rainbows-fanfics]

Our Nightmare (Chapter 16)

Summary: Sally moves in with the man of her screams. But there  is still so much she has to learn of Halloween Town, and what it’s like  living with The Pumpkin King.

A sequel to Two Dearest Friends,  where the Christmas incident never happens. But there are still many  ends that haven’t been met, and much for these two dreamers to learn as  they start to spend their deaths together.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally, Dr Finklestein/Jewel

–

Note: This is a SEQUEL to my other story, TWO DEAREST FRIENDS. To read the original story, go here.

--

Sally Finklestein trudges on for what feels like hours. The way from the Hinterlands forest back to Halloween Town is much longer than she anticipates. Her legs grow exhausted by the minute. She neglects to notice the fallen tree branch in her way and is sent tumbling to the ground when her feet make contact with it. Her arm detaches upon impact, scattering loose leaves on the fresh dirt. The wind picks them up and carries them off. Sally grabs her arm in a panic and covers the opening with her other hand, noticing how many she’s lost.

She reaches for her thread and needle, but finds her pocket empty and no sewing needle behind her ear. Then she remembers she gave them to Oogie Boogie after losing their betting game. She gasps at this realization:  she's truly vulnerable out here .

“Oh, no..!” She exclaims to herself. “This is bad…I have to get home!”

Grasping onto her appendage tightly, she picks up her pace and continues on the path. It takes several minutes before she sees the image of Halloween Town. She sighs in relief and practically runs to it - only to find herself tripping and stumbling on the way. Then she slows her pace in caution of losing anymore limbs. By the time she reaches the front gate, she’s so fatigued that she can only end up mumbling to the gatekeeper. The crow looks at her oddly and raises the gate for her. She thanks him with a nod of her head.

He notices the gaping hole in her arm as she passes by.  “Are you okay, miss..?”

She waves him off and continues on her way. She’ll apologize for her curt behavior later - the sky is getting dark, and all she wants to do is to return to the Skellington Manor. Her  sanctuary . Far from Oogie Boogie and those naughty children…Where the love of her death and their pets reside, undoubtedly waiting for her return…she feels guilty for keeping them waiting. For where she has gone today. She should’ve never left Halloween Town to begin with.

‘Maybe I can sneak inside,’  She thinks as she approaches the manor.  ‘Just so I can sew my arm back on without anyone noticing…’

She tiptoes up the steps and opens the door as quietly as she can. She makes little noise closing it and wastes no time rushing inside, past the den and up the staircase. She tries to do this in a speedy manner despite struggling the entire way. Her body feels numb by the time she makes it to their bedroom. She starts searching through various drawers for a sewing needle and thread. She mutters under her breath before finding the desired items, and grins in satisfaction.

  “Sally..?”  

She turns around and finds Jack Skellington’s concerned face in the doorway. He is currently eying the area where her arm  should be, before his gaze comes to what she’s holding in her hand. It isn’t a shocking sight to find his beloved without an arm at times, but it still brings alarm to the skeleton every time something like this happens. He steps further into the room and notes how empty it looks in the opening. Like she’s lost a terrible amount of leaves…the concern grows in his bones as he looks to her for an explanation.

She feels a little flustered to be caught in a situation like this. She smiles at him nervously. “I tripped..?”

“Why didn’t you take care of it earlier?” He lifts her dress’ sleeve to further observe the hole. “You’ve lost a lot of-”

“--Leaves. I know.” She cuts him off. She sets her arm down and attempts to thread the needle with one hand. He notices her difficulty and offers to do it for her. She gives him the items with a small  ‘thank you’ .

“I just didn’t have the needle and thread on me, at the time…” She confesses. He looks at her doubtfully as he goes to sew her arm back on - sparing her the demanding effort of doing it one-handed. She’s grateful for this, but doesn’t have the opportunity to express it before he questions her.

“But you always have them on you. I mean, you should. What if something like this happens? If you were to fall apart, trip somewhere and lose more than this…”

He begins to mutter as he finishes the job, his voice growing worried at the possibilities he’s put into his mind. He has to calm himself down. Sally waits until he’s no longer tense before she speaks again, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I used them in my sewing shop today and forgot they were there, that's all. I tripped on my way back.” She grits her teeth lying like this. She doesn’t feel comfortable doing it anymore. “I’ll make sure I always have them on me, from now on.”

He sighs before removing her hand and bringing it to his lips, to leave a tender kiss on her stitched knuckles. Her heart flutters at this gesture. He slowly brings it down and holds it in both of his large hands. He can feel how lighter her right arm is now - no doubt causing an imbalance to her body. They’ll have to visit the Doctor and collect more leaves when they can.

“I’ll believe you.” He tells her. “But, please, be careful.”

He leads them out of the bedroom and down the stairs, holding onto her tightly the entire time. She appreciates the extra support - drained from all the running and fretting she’s done today. She can use some relaxation. She makes this obvious when he politely sets her down on the couch. She moans in relief when the weight is taken off her feet. He looks at her in surprise and she quickly changes topics.

“Can you kindle a fire, Jack..? It’s cold tonight.”

He obliges to her demand and starts a fire in the hearth. While he’s busy, his ghostly dog and her black cat come running in from the other room. Ophelia mewls delightfully at the sight of Sally. She jumps into her lap without hesitation while Zero flies forward to lick the side of her face. They both have clearly been worrying about her. She gently hugs Zero before petting her cat, assuring the both of them that she is alright. The Pumpkin King stands to his full height once the logs catch fire. He turns to enter the kitchen right away.

“I’ll heat some leftovers for us tonight, and make some warm tea.” His voice informs her from the other room. She perks up and smiles.

“That sounds just fine.”

Ophelia jumps off to join Zero by the fire while they wait. It takes awhile until he returns to the room with trays of food and cups in his hands. He sets them down and hands Sally her tea first. She enjoys the way the liquid warms her stomach. She can’t deny she was freezing, after being outside for so long, enduring that harsh wind…and the chill she’s felt on her spine ever since her unfortunate encounter with the boogeyman…her gut sinks as she recalls everything that’s happened, and promptly places her tea down. She starts eating to try and clear her thoughts.

“How was your day today..?” She asks quietly. She hopes hearing about it will empty her mind. He pauses at her question.

His time that day had been spent finalizing his concept for Sally’s engagement ring. He remembers struggling trying to pick just  one design out of the several he’d come up with. But he’s happy with his decision, and went to start on it right away. Sure, he’s a little behind on his paperwork now, but…it is ever so worth it, in his eyes. It is coming out beautifully. The only part he’s uncertain about is her ring size, which he will have to obtain discreetly…but other than that, his day went particularly well.

“Oh, you know. Just the usual planning in the town hall.” He replies casually.

She dips her head as she finishes her food. Nowhere near the intricate explanation like she’d been hoping to hear from him…he usually goes into such light about the Halloween planning and anything unexpected that ever happens…her mind is still unfortunately swarmed with the events from today. Her chewing slows and she drinks more tea to stop her chest from growing cold. There’s one question that hasn’t been able to leave her mind, no matter how much she pushes it aside.

She decides to appease her curiosity. Swallowing harshly, she soon asks him, “Jack..? What do you know about Oogie Boogie?”

His reaction is similar to the last time she mentioned him. The moment the name slips off her tongue, he visibly tenses and stiffens his jaw. He sets down the food in his hand as well as his cup, and grips his knees tightly. He avoids giving an answer right away. “-Why do you ask..?”

His hesitation confirms her suspicions. She thinks of any possible way to answer him without revealing what happened today - but she falls short on thinking of any excuses. It already hurt her to lie to him once, and it just doesn’t feel right to continue doing so. He might think she’s stupid for believing those children, and going to their treehouse so willy-nilly…but it’s brought a heavy weight onto her shoulders. And she desperately wants it to go away. Before she can come to terms with herself, the tears begin to fall from her eyes and she gravely looks at the floor.

“Something happened today.” She says in a small voice.

Her boyfriend notices the moistness leaving her eyes and relaxes his frame right away. He comes forward to hold her tightly, bringing her face to rest in the crook of his neck. She presses her entire weight on him as she closes her eyes and begins to cry. To finally let out her concealed emotions from what happened - to express how frightened she was, feeling used and violated by a scary man…and not the delightful ‘scary’ like Jack was, but from someone more…threatening .

“I did something really stupid.” She spits out regretfully. “I should’ve listened to you. I shouldn’t have ever given them the benefit of the doubt..”

“..What happened, exactly?” He asks. He feels unpleasant hearing her talk this way.

“They tricked me. I let Lock, Shock, and Barrel bring me to their treehouse...and I got trapped in Oogie Boogie’s casino.” He tightens his grip around her figure. “He offered me a betting game to leave, so we played, and…I-I lost. He let me go, anyway…but he…he….”

Her words drift off as she looks away. She feels anxious telling the rest of the story - afraid of what he would think of her, agreeing to do what she did. If he’d be disgusted.  Hurt . Or even betrayed. She only did it for her freedom. She doesn’t know what to expect; she can’t imagine what it will be like to keep something like this to herself. To know she was touched in a way that made her feel like she was nothing more than a doll…

Jack pulls away to look at her face, combing the strands of her yarn hair behind her ears. Her eyes are red and her cheeks puffy. She’s refusing to look at him. The stitched lines on the ends of her mouth are quivering as she reaches for his arms. Her figure starts to tremble - and an unusual coldness overcomes him. It occurs to him what could have possibly happened in his absence.

“ What did he do to you? ” He asks coldly. She finally looks at him and whimpers, wiping her tears away with a free hand.

“He wanted to feel my leg and my foot…he-he even tickled me…I didn’t like the way he touched me…he said he wanted to feel a woman’s touch. And he kept saying such  things ..! How I haven’t aged a bit, and-and how he liked how I had a mouth on me…he was stroking my face when-”

“That BASTARD..!” The skeleton yells, a small flame escaping his mouth. Sally jumps in surprise at his outburst. She grabs him by the shoulders and sets him back down beside her. She clings onto him and sobs some more, wishing to release everything in this moment.

“Pl-please don’t be mad..! I only did it because he wasn’t going to let me go. It was my only-”

He stops her words by holding her very tightly. The closest embrace they’ve ever had so far. She closes her eyes and shakes within his grasp - calming the longer he holds her, and warms her skin. He says nothing in these few minutes, letting the sound of the fire crackling soothe them instead. Zero and Ophelia watch them with worried expressions from the floor. They decide to keep their distance after seeing their master’s reaction. They express their sympathy with their eyes. He eventually withdraws and continues to hold her sides firmly.

“Sally..” He begins. “Do you  know  what could have happened? What could he have  done to you?”

“-I know and I’m sorry!” She exclaims regretfully. “All I wanted was to see how those children lived, so I could help them..! It was wrong to believe them. They trapped me down there. I should have just listened to you and the witches-”

“- Shh, sh . Don’t blame yourself for anything…those three are cunning. You’re not the first they’ve tricked, nor will you be the last.” He sighs as he rocks them both. She snivels into his suit. “Anyone else could’ve done what you did. You’re not stupid. You’re just kind, that's what you are.”

“And it nearly got me….killed, or… or …” She mutters with a soft cry. He kisses her forehead and brushes her hair back again.

“What matters is you’re safe now. We’re fortunate he decided to let you go. I don’t know how I could’ve found you otherwise - I would’ve had no idea where you were…”

“I’m s-”

“ Shh .”

This time, they exchange no words as he moves her gently. They do this for several minutes until he feels her relax in his arms. She closes her eyes and steadies her breathing, enjoying this peaceful moment. She’d been so scared of him being outraged for what she did. But he isn’t. If anything, he seems upset with Oogie Boogie instead…she holds her breath as she thinks of what to say. She still hasn’t received any answers to her question - and she feels comfortable enough to pry again.

“He told me to ask you about him. That you two have a past I should know about…” She mutters. He doesn’t respond right away. He becomes strained again, so she rubs his back. “-Is that true?”

“I…” He breathes on her hair. “I was a different person back then, Sally. Not one I’m necessarily proud of…”

“Is that why you haven’t told me?” He nods weakly. “It won’t matter to me. What matters is who you are  now …the man of my screams. The one who took me out of that tower.” His grip strengthens again. “I love you, and I…I want to know about your past, if you’re willing to tell me.”

He clutches her hands before letting go of them. He looks into the fire for a bit, thinking of where to begin. He hasn’t ever had to tell anyone about this before. She waits patiently in this time - curious as to what happened between him and Oogie Boogie, and what he must’ve been like back then…He finally takes a deep breath and relaxes, beginning to spill his story:

“Oogie and I were once friends a long time ago. I was young and reckless - and he, the same. I had just gotten my crown and began my reputation as the master of fright. I was willing to do anything… try anything. I wanted to be the most feared being alive - or, rather, dead. And Oogie…he liked doing things differently. We both had a passion for scaring people. So that’s what we did.”

She scoots closer as she becomes invested in this story. He struggles to speak for a moment and she places her hand on his knee encouragingly. He smiles softly before continuing, more confidently this time:

“Back then, every Halloween was to the human world. And, Oogie and I - we had a scare streak that lasted for years..! I was in tough competition. The boogeyman didn’t get his title for  nothing , mind you. But it was all in good spirit. We kept trying new things, new methods to scare humans with. Some were his ideas, others were mine. We often bonded on this sort of thing - learning what humans feared, and how to use that to our advantage. We were close doing what we did together.”

He rubs his jaw in thought, his look turning troubled.

“But over time, I noticed something  different about Boogie. He was spending a lot of time with the humans - even after Halloween, he would leave town to visit their world. I was bothered by this, since such a thing was forbidden, and asked him why. He told me it was to visit their dreams and study them - and I believed him. It was his job to do that, after all. But he came back with these strange desires, new ideas of his I hadn’t heard of….”

“What were they?” She asks curiously. He clicks his tongue.

“He was having all sorts of suggestions that didn’t involve scaring them…though he’d convince me otherwise.” Jack murmured. “He wanted to use torture devices. To gamble with them. Play games. He said it was using the fear of threatening their lives - and I…believed it, so I tried it with him. I’m ashamed to say we had fun when we started…humans were terrified when their lives were on the line, and we both enjoyed the terror. But something happened one night that changed everything between us.”

He pauses. She holds her breath.

“-A human had died.” He confesses solemnly. “We placed a bet with one that lost the game. Oogie was using one of his torture machines, and…the man was clearly in  pain  ..! We’d never gone so far as to physically hurt   them. Just intimidate them..! It was Boogie’s intention all along; he told me he was testing a new theory of his. So he killed him. And that…was  ‘true fear’,  he told me…To take their life.”

He looks away, clearly ashamed of his words.

“If I’d have known he was going to kill that man, I would’ve stopped him. I wouldn’t have helped him to begin with. I was so furious that I didn’t talk to him for days…he was confused as to why. I had to tell him I didn’t believe in killing anyone. I’ve frightened some into an early grave,  yes  , but…never intentionally would I physically torture or mutilate them like he did! It was unnecessary, and…and it was sickening! We never saw eye-to-eye on this thing, so we didn’t reconcile after that.

Over the next few years, Oogie became an entirely different person. I knew he was doing these things - taking these innocent humans and gambling on their lives…some he took just to have his  ‘fun’ with…and it all disgusted me. I tried to put a stop to it, but he always found a way to sneak into the human world and claim his victims. Every Halloween, he became ruthless. It was no longer a friendly competition - he was challenging me with every opportunity he had. And eventually, he got jealous of my crown.”

“Your crown..?” She asks. He nods in confirmation.

“Boogie challenged my throne, claiming that the way I scared others wasn’t  ‘effective’ . That being nice was my flaw as a King. And Oogie wanted my place. So he could turn Halloween Town into the casino he wanted…it was the toughest scaring competition I’d ever been in. But I won. After that, I had just about enough and never spoke to him again. Then he tried to overthrow me with his  ‘Bug Day’  nonsense, and - well, you were there for that…”

Sally is quiet as she takes in this new information. It makes her tremble remembering how close she had been to this man, who committed such terrible actions. She feels no sympathy for him whatsoever. And Jack…she’s sad hearing that their friendship fell apart, and he was tricked into such an awful thing…she hugs his side without a word, and he places his hand over hers. He sounds regretful with his next words.

“Believe me, I’m not proud of what I’d done back then. I helped him do most of these things, and…some of that blood was on my  own hands, that night. I’ve never forgiven myself for it. I should’ve banished him a long time ago. I always regret that I didn’t. There would’ve been less victims, if I had acted in time...”

“It happened so long ago, and you know better, now. You wouldn’t let such a thing happen.” She assures him confidently. “I think you’re a great ruler, Jack. You look out for your people. You make sure they’re not mean, just doing their job…imagine how many people would have been taken if Oogie was in your place.”

He sucks at his teeth. “Exactly what I fear, sometimes…that he’s going to try and revolt again…I think you now understand why you should stay away from him..? And come and tell me if Lock, Shock, and Barrel try anything with you again?”

“Absolutely.” She agrees without hesitation. “I’m sorry. You had a right to worry. I didn’t know he could be so bad.”

They rest comfortably by the roaring fire, watching the flames dance to pass the time. Both Zero and Ophelia are asleep, enjoying the warmth and cuddling next to each other. Even Sally feels her eyes drooping the longer they remain there, the exhaustion finally catching up with her. It’s been an unimaginably long day, and now that she’s safely protected in Jack’s arms again…she wants to rest. To know she’s with a man who is so much better than the creature she encountered earlier. She nestles his side and hums in delight.

“Thank you, by the way.” He tells her quietly. She rests her head on his shoulder. “No one’s asked me about my past like this. They’ve never wanted to really know…and I…I’m glad you still trust me, after hearing it..”

“I was a different person, too.” She mumbles. “Before you, I was never confident or really happy…I was willing to be a housewife and nothing more…but now I matter to the town, and I have a place here. And I know you’re nothing like what you used to be, either.”

He smiles and leans over to kiss her on the cheek. She returns it on his stitched lips, holding his skull close as they lock lips. They eventually pull away. She rubs the side of his cheek with her thumb.

“You should forgive yourself.” She tells him sternly. “What happened wasn’t your fault…you didn’t know. You  couldn’t have. He tricked you, like those trick-or-treaters did with me. And like you told me - you shouldn’t blame yourself for being kind.”

He sighs as he runs his hand through her hair. “You’re too good for me, Sally, you know that..?”

She says nothing and presses herself against him, preparing to rest her eyes. He senses her drowsiness and picks her up from the couch, carrying her over to the stairs. The animals finally stir from their sleep and groggily follow after, yawning as they climb into their bed. Jack gently sets Sally in the blankets and smiles as he observes her. She’s passed out already. She looks so content, finally peaceful after what happened to her…

A familiar fire burns in his throat. He clenches his fists to channel his anger. It doesn’t matter what Oogie did with her - he held her captive once, and had the audacity to touch her again. There is no doubt in his mind that he ordered Lock, Shock, and Barrel to trick her. He is always the mastermind behind their plans. And this time, he won’t be forgiven. He’ll make sure of it.

“I’ll kill him if he touches you again. I swear by it.” He mutters under his breath, cupping his beloved’s face in his hand. He leans forward and kisses her once more. “Sleep well, my dear.”

She snores lightly.

  “Jewel! We have someone at the door!”  

The tall woman looks up in surprise as the doorbell rings loudly above them. She drops what she’s doing to rush over and pull the handle. She’s delighted to find two familiar faces on the other side. One belongs to the Pumpkin King, and the other to Dr. Finklestein’s daughter, Sally. She lets them in right away, leading the two to their usual sitting room as she closes the door behind them.

“Welcome! What a horrible time to visit..!”

The ragdoll is more comfortable speaking to her this time. Their conversations over the phone have helped immensely. She approaches her politely. “We’re here to see the Doctor about something. It’s not really that important, so if he’s-”

“-Doctor!” Jewel exclaims into the other room. “Jack and Sally have come to see you! Are you busy, dear?”

Some bizarre noises come from the currently-ajar laboratory door. No doubt he’s experimenting right now. He sounds out-of-breath as he replies.  “I’m afraid so..! Why don’t you take care of it for me? Practice your science?”  

“How awful!” She claps her hands together and turns back to Sally. “What is it you need help with? I will try to be of assistance.”

The ragdoll glances with uncertainty towards Jack, who smiles back encouragingly. She’s never had anyone else do this sort of thing before. Only the Doctor has ever worked on her, besides Igor’s occasional help. She undoes the thread on her arm and shows her the somewhat-empty opening.

“Well…I recently lost some leaves in my arm. I just need some replacement ones.”

“A change of leaves - simple.” She comments confidently. She begins motioning her into another room and waves to the skeleton as they leave. “Wait right there, Mr. Skellington..! She’ll be back in a moment.”

The tall skeleton stays in his place as he watches them go. He’s confident Jewel will do the job just fine, compared to his girlfriend’s hesitancy. Once he’s alone, he sits down in one of the chairs. He passes the time by looking around and patiently tapping his digits together. He ends up waiting longer than he expects. Finding he has nothing else to do, he reaches into his pocket and unfolds a piece of paper. He finds the final sketch of the engagement ring on it - marveling at the design as he sometimes does in his free time. He has the unfinished project waiting back in the Skellington Manor - hidden exclusively in a drawer that Sally can’t find.

He is so captivated by the drawing that he doesn’t see the two figures emerging from the laboratory. Dr Finklestein notices his regal company and sends his assistant into the kitchen, asking him to make some refreshments. Once they’re alone, he moves his wheelchair forward until he’s close enough to get a glance at what the Pumpkin King is holding. He decides not to be nosy and greets him instead.

“Jack, my boy..! Terrible to see you today!”

He startles the King right out of his seat. He folds the paper again in a rush and slips it back into his pocket, smiling sheepishly at his old friend. “-Ah! Hello there, Doctor! I didn’t see you there…”

“It was not my intention to surprise you.” He laughs and rests his hands in his lap. “What is it you’ve come here for today?”

“Sally is getting some of her leaves replaced. She,  erm …lost quite a few the other day.” His eyelids lower as he recalls the previous night. He decides to change subjects. “You’re having Jewel practice science now..?”

“She has half of my knowledge on the subject..! I want her to put it to good use. She’s been quite the help lately. We’ve gotten a lot done this time.” He realizes his words and quickly adds, “-You’re still free to come around and help anytime you’d like! I know we don’t experiment anymore like we used to.”

He recalls the last time they worked together on something, and remembers the unpleasant result that came…not from their work, but from their rather troubled relationship at the time…he shrugs this thought off and grins right back at him. He can tell the Doctor is a much happier man now - he’s never seen him so inspired before. It reminds him of himself with the Halloween plans, after Sally came into his death.

“It’s quite alright. I’ve been busy with the planning, anyway.” He decides to pry. “I assume things are going well for you two?”

“Positively  perfect ! I finally have the wife I’ve always envisioned having.” He answers with pride. “I’m no longer the lonely, old man I used to be. Every day is worth waking up to, now.”

He understands what he means. It’s been the greatest experience to wake up next to the love of his death ever since they started sleeping together. Finklestein’s words suddenly remind him of something and an idea crosses Jack’s skull. He reaches in his pocket and surfaces the paper again, slowly unfolding it with a smile. He ensures no one else is in the room as he does this, wanting to keep this an utmost secret. He presents the paper to him proudly.

“Would you mind helping me with something, Doctor..?

He looks at him curiously as he takes it in his small hands and observes it. His jaw drops open at the detailed drawing he sees. He’s always secretly admired the King’s artistic talent - this being a perfect example as to  why  . The design that looks back at him is of a gorgeous engagement ring, modeled after his initial jack-o-lantern idea, except now it is complimented with red gems and the vines stretch to the shoulders just before the shank. It is a beautiful piece of art, to say at the least. He can only imagine what something like this would look like in-person.

“...Is this what I think it is?” He asks quietly.

“Indeed it is. I just need to know Sally’s ring size; I have a feeling you might know this information..?”

He glances at him knowingly. “You guessed right. I have a few replacements in a box somewhere we can check.”

“I can only do that if I ask one thing.” He takes another look around the room to ensure they are alone. He sits himself back in the chair to look him properly in the eye. “Doctor, will you give me your blessing to marry your daughter?”

He pauses, registering this question. Then a smile spreads on his face. “Of course, my boy. You’re the only one I trust to take care of her. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He returns the smile, overcome with a feeling of emotion. It means a lot to him to have the blessing of Finklestein - a long-time friend of his whom he’s come to regard as his own father figure. And if things go as well as he’s hoping…then a  true  one, at that. A wave of relief washes over him as he takes the paper and puts it away. He’s glad to get this part done, and finally receive the last piece of information he needs to make the ring.

“I assume you’re planning on keeping this a surprise..?” He is met with a nod. “I’ll have Igor retrieve the measurements for you. And I won’t say a word about this. Not even to my Jewel.”

With that, he calls for his hunchbacked assistant, who scampers into the room and traditionally bows to the Pumpkin King. The Doctor whispers something to him and the shorter man agrees eagerly, disappearing out of the room and rushing up the ramps. It is then Jewel and Sally finally return. The ragdoll has an easy time walking as she approaches Jack. Nothing looks different about her - but he can tell she's more balanced on her feet this time. Finklestein turns away to address his wife.

“I’m assuming it all went well..?”

“Of course, sweetie. I checked the rest of Sally’s leaves and replaced the ones that needed it. A lot of her thread was loose, too, but I fastened them. You should be good for a long time now, hun..!”

“Thank you, again.” She moves to hug her mother figure. “You’re going to make a wonderful scientist.”

“I appreciate that.” She pats her head as the woman lets go and turns to the skeleton. “I hope we didn’t take too long..?”

“--Just the right amount of time.” He replies with a chuckle.

Igor rushes into the room and passes a piece of paper to the Doctor. He doesn't even look at it. Instead, he wastes no time handing this to Jack, who takes it and easily pockets it. Sally watches this movement with confusion and opens her mouth to ask. He brings her to the door before she can. Then she forgets this matter completely as she gives her father a parting hug. The Doctor holds onto her while Jack exchanges a polite handshake with Jewel in the background. The moment they withdraw, he gives his daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law a proud look.

“Good luck, you two.”

[anghraine]

“the voices of the sea” - fic

I wrote a thing! There might be errors, since I wrote it very quickly, but it was fun (in its way). It’s part of the Aranorverse, where the explicit throwbacks in LOTR (Aragorn, Denethor, Imrahil, and Faramir) are genderbent (as Aranor, Andreth, Imraphel, and Míriel).

In particular, it’s a very belated sequel to “cloven shield and broken sword,” in which Aranor found a dying Boromir:

She remembered him tugging at her leggings, demanding to know but what next? And she remembered him in Lothlórien, haughty and suspicious until he began to speak of Míriel, the sister he had loved and protected through all the days of their lives. Boromir the tall, the fair, the bold, had died, and his treasured sister lived on; what was Aranor’s grief to that?

May the news of his loss come to you swiftly and kindly, jewel-maiden!

The dream always began the same way.

Míriel stood in a city of white and gold, grander than Minas Tirith, grander even than Osgiliath of old, though its domes and towers were similar enough in form that she knew she looked upon the work of Dúnedain. Most of the people around her, however, belied the impression, with their bright hair and soft features—or so it had once seemed. They were handsome, but in a way that unsettled her, like overripe fruit covered in sweet cream. Some particularly disturbed her: tall men in long red tunics, leading lines of bound prisoners towards a building beneath a particularly large and glittering dome.

The prisoners would not have looked out of place in Minas Tirith. Míriel’s stomach turned as smoke trailed up from the dome.

The first time, she still knew not what she saw at this point. It was strange and disagreeable, but little worse, until the winds began to blow. Míriel’s black hair whipped around her face, rain splattering on her head and cheeks and the ground, where it pooled into large puddles. Nobody seemed to notice her. Men came running from what looked like a harbour, shouting things in a language she couldn’t quite understand; her impression of their thoughts was dark and clouded, enough that she shrank back. 

But she was not a shrinking sort of girl, not really. The prisoners had drawn her attention again; the red-robed men seemed to be distracted by the newcomers and the prisoners had seized the chance to struggle with their bonds. She ran over to them.

“Who are you? Do you come from Gondor?” she asked.

No one answered. No one so much as acknowledged her existence. But as the water splashed over her sandalled feet, the prisoners broke free and fled, chased futilely by only a few of the robed men. She caught a single familiar word amidst all the clamour: storm.

Yes, of course. It must have come on very unexpectedly; everyone appeared to be dressed very lightly for this kind of weather. Míriel was herself; her thin tunic soon soaked through, and her skin went numb. The sky grew darker; she almost thought she saw the shadow of some enormous creature flicker across it. And the steady fall of the rain turned into torrential sheets of water that blasted through the streets, scattering the people on them.

Míriel ran as quickly as she could, like the rest, but instead of retreating into houses or flying to the ships, she turned and scrambled towards the clearest sign of refuge: a mountain near the city, rising clear and pure above its buildings. Smoke puffed from its summit, which struck her as wrong in some way.

She was a child at the time, her steps short, but somehow or other, her feet brought her out of the city and to the side of the mountain before the driving wind and rain could wholly flood the city and its environs. Ahead of her, a small woman in an embroidered white tunic, with sparkling bracelets about her wrist and a golden collar at her throat, clambered up the sides of the mountain. The air was hot, hotter than it should be, but Míriel could think of nowhere else to go. She struggled up the mountain after the woman.

“Can you hear me?” she called out. “Let us help one another!”

To her surprise, the woman looked back—but her fair face, though not unsettling in the way of the others’, was filled with utter terror. She didn’t seem to see Míriel at all, her pale grey eyes wide and staring. 

Míriel followed her gaze, and gasped. Water was rushing out of the city and drowning the green valley below, rising with impossible swiftness. Míriel was not craven, but at that, she turned back to the mountainside and struggled to scramble up its ledges, ignoring the pebbles that pressed into her feet beneath her thin, drenched sandals. Now, she could not look back, and she ignored the horror that filled her mind.

They never did make it to the top of the mountain. But they reached a high enough point that Míriel could see past it. Water was flooding beyond it, too, pouring through forests and rising over hills from every direction.

Even as Míriel gazed upon it, the storming water splashed up into foamy waves that roared beneath them. This did not, however, prepare her for what happened next.

To the west, all the waves seemed to join together into one, towering and impossibly enormous. But it grew still larger, cascading up and up and up and up, above Míriel and the woman, above the mountain itself, above everything. The hills and valleys, forests and cities, all fell under its heavy shadow. Míriel’s very blood felt cold, her her breath coming in small, frightened pants as the wave’s inescapable darkness deepened.

The woman, clinging to rocks, screamed something that Míriel half-understood. Then the wave began to crash down on them.

In Míriel’s bedchamber, her eyes flew open. That time, the first time, she promptly burst into tears and cried until Boromir came running, thinking she was ill. He managed to console her, but within a few nights, the dream came again, and then again within a few nights of that. So it continued, on and on, through the years that followed.

The horror of it never really abated. Yet she grew accustomed to it, in a way: to the sight of Númenor in its most terrible hour, only made worse by the understanding of what came next and why, to the glimpses of her namesake, the rightful queen. Indeed, nothing but the wave itself left so strong a mark on her mind as Tar-Míriel’s face, so beautiful and so terrified.

She, Míriel of Gondor, would never forget her, or Númenor, or where the folly and evils of their people had led. She could never forget. Perhaps that was the purpose of the dream. Perhaps it was a warning of what victory could mean in the end, however improbable victory might seem in her waking hours. Perhaps it was something else yet. But it never stopped haunting her.

Nearly thirty years after the first dream, though, it changed. Míriel dreamed again of Armenelos and the Meneltarma and the shadow of death rising inexorably above all. But there was no waking. The wave slowly began to collapse over them, foam and droplets spattering her face before it reached her. Míriel stood tall and straight, refusing to cower, allowing herself no further weakness than blinking the water out of her face. She opened her eyes to more water, feeling it slosh about her bare ankles.

But it was now deep into night beneath a pale moon, just bright enough for her to see that the water in which she stood flowed smoothly past the familiar shores of the Anduin. The terror of the Downfall had shifted to an overwhelming sense of peace.

As she watched, she saw a small boat come floating up the river. In colour, it was a peculiar, shining grey; in design, she could not recognize it. Nor did she expect to, for it cast a dim light all around it. Though nobody appeared to be rowing or steering it, it continued on its serene course without interruption.

Míriel felt a distinct desire to draw nearer the boat, to understand what could possibly explain all this. She thought of resisting the desire; she might have—but it did not strike her as foul in the way of the Enemy’s arts, so she dared approach. 

The boat slowed as she came near, within hand’s reach of the prow. Her instincts warned her against touching it, but she saw illuminated water filling the boat, and a warrior who first appeared to be sleeping in it.

Míriel gasped.

“Boromir!”

She knew at a second glance that he was dead. Anyone might have, without need of fallen Númenor or any other powers of this world. His chest had been pierced with many wounds. His sword lay broken on his knee, and others at his feet. His black hair had been carefully laid over his shoulders. She recognized everything he wore except a lovely belt of linked golden leaves, and his face was not only restful, but beautiful, even more than in life.

She and her mother had already feared the worst, when they heard the echo of his horn coming from the north, unaccompanied by any news of him. But it was one thing to fear, and another to see.

“Where is your horn?” she asked, as if he might somehow answer. 

The boat kept floating under her gaze, drifting past where she stood in the water. 

“Where are you going?” she cried. “Oh, Boromir!”

It passed on, down the stream and fading into the night, towards the sea. Míriel stood alone in the water. No priest of Sauron, no Faithful prisoner, no doomed queen or frightened citizen intruded upon her notice. No brother, either. 

She tilted her head down to stare into the clear river-water, her reflection a dark blur at this hour. With her hair hanging loose around her face, obscuring the sight of the shore, it reminded her of peering into the waters near Dol Amroth on a calm night. Perhaps it had reminded her father of the sea he missed, too. Oh, the sea, the sea! Must it always be the sea?

She felt tears slide down her cheeks—as if the occasion required more water, when Boromir was gone and forever consigned to the fate of Men. They would never see him return. She would never feel his great embrace once more, nor listen to him with their mother, nor ride out to the Pelennor with him, nor ever again see him laugh among the knights of Dol Amroth. Míriel squeezed her eyes shut.

She pressed her fingers to her face, rubbing away tears, and opened her eyes again. She felt no surprise at the sight of her bedchamber in Minas Tirith. Yet she was not lying in bed but sitting upon it, her hands still pressed to her cheeks, as if she had actually woken some time before, or never slept at all. Míriel rose, shaking out her dry shift, and walked over to her window, which looked westwards.

Boromir had risked death constantly; it was his duty and right as Captain-General and heir to the Stewardship. She had always known this. She had certainly known it when he set out on his errand, driven by a dream of his own. Yet, in some way, she had not known—not understood—and now—

Now, she must tell their mother.

[salt-warrior]

RISE FROM THE ASHES

A When Earth Turns to Ashes sequel

Masterlist

Epilogue

Five Years Later

The water ran as if it had somewhere to go, and not enough time to get there. It was fast and deafening and mesmerizing to watch. Somehow it was a thousand colors at once while remaining a deep steely gray always. It was a river the color of sorrow, forever whispering away into the night.

Before the river sat a boy. Or really, a man. He was older now. And while his face showed little of that aging, his eyes depicted a thousand years of existence. A thousand years of sleepless nights, and nightmares that came only when his eyes were open.

But while sorrow fueled his heart, anger filled his soul. Rage at all he had lost, all that had been taken from him. A life, once filled with so much potential, now completely and utterly destroyed.

He gripped the guardrail in front of him, feeling the places where she'd placed her hands on that fateful night. And the nightmares came back again, full force.

It was snowing, and the moon was out. And she was there, right before him, whispering words that stuck him to his core. And then she was gone— falling far below, not making a sound as her body hit the frigid water. But there was screaming all the same.

His cries echoed out across the night. Just her name. Over and over again.

Cinder.

Cinder.

Cinder.

But she didn't respond. She couldn't hear, but then again, neither could he.

All he could do was cry— scream and shout as Iko, who had been hiding just out of sight, rushed forward. But it wasn't Cinder she ran to. It was Kai.

"Shhh," she whispered as she pulled his body close to her own. He could barely feel her. "You did all you could. You did all you could."

But he hadn't reached out— he hadn't stopped her from jumping.

She held him as he sobbed and screamed. She said words he couldn't hear, trying in vain to silence the agony raging within him. And when her phone rang and she answered, he couldn't quite comprehend the conversation being held.

He followed her back to the car, though he had little choice as she dragged him by the hand. He was numb the entirety of the car ride, his eyes unseeing as he looked out the car window. The night had somehow grown darker, even as the moon glistened off the falling snow, as if the great goddess herself were crying.

Their destination was lined with emergency vehicles. Two ambulances were being packed up, the occupants covered in blankets and unidentifiable from Kai's vantage point. They stood for a moment, before Iko let out a cry and rushed toward a group of police officers.

She pulled Kai with her, but released him the second they came into arms-reach of Cress. The two friends embraced, saying words Kai couldn't hear, words he didn't care to know. His curiosity was gone. No longer was he the boy with his nose in everyone's business, or the one who sang songs in the car. That innocence, that naivety, had been take from him.

Cress glanced at Kai, her cheeks pink with cold, and face grave. Kai half-expected Thorne to be standing beside her, but he suspected that he was the other person being loaded up in an ambulance. Thorne, who had once claimed that he didn't have the guts to risk his own life for another.

When Kai and Iko had left the graveyard and rushed to the river, Iko had instructed Cress and Thorne to go to the river also, but downstream from the main platform, toward shallower waters. It had been precautionary.

It had been necessary.

A police officer eyed Kai, a notepad in hand. "Are you—"

"Nope," Iko broke away from Cress, pointing a finger in the officer's face. "Now is not the time. In what condition is Cinder? Is she going to be okay?"

"I'm afraid I can't say," the officer said, rubbing a hand across tired eyes. "It's lucky that the young man was there to pull her out when he did. Lucky that you'd already called the police. But she fell pretty far, and this water is freezing. It'll take a miracle."

"Thorne?" Kai asked, coming out of a haze. "How's Thorne? Is he okay?"

"He should be fine," the officer said. "The hospital will treat him for hypothermia, but his exposure luckily wasn't too prolonged. And he's damned lucky that the current didn't sweep him under too."

"Thank you," Iko said. She and Cress tucked themselves under either of Kai's arms as his knees began to give out.

"Do we go to the hospital now?" Cress asked. It was impressive how well she was holding it together as Kai fell into a thousand pieces. Gone were the hysterics on the phone call.

"No," Iko said.

Kai looked at her. "What? But Cinder—"

"You take Kai home," Iko said, ignoring him. "I'll go to the hospital. I think... I think it would be best if only I went right now. They'll let me see her if..."

Kai looked out at the river, just as he was gazing at it now. Eyes full of hatred for all that it had taken from him— for all that it symbolized. He gripped the guardrail harder, trying to go back to a time when life hadn't been complicated. Back before Cinder had created a poltergeist. Back to their one year of happiness sandwiched between two ghosts.

"Why?" Kai asked the open air. "Why did you do it? Why did you leave me?" He ducked his head as the tears began to fall. "Why would you leave me when I loved you so much?"

The water was loud, but his pain was louder. And as his tears fell into the river, he wondered if it were filled entirely with his sorrow.

"And why," Kai groaned, shutting his eyes tight, "would you leave only to... only to..."

"Because I promised," said a voice beside him. He didn't dare look. He couldn't bring himself to do it. "Before this all began, I promised you."

Kai looked at her— the girl he had once loved, perhaps still did. Her hair was in tangles, falling over the fabric of the gray hoodie she wore. Her eyes were still brown, but they were not the eyes he had fallen in love with.

She was not Cinder. She was not Cinder, Kai reminded himself. She was the product of something terrible. But he hated her all the same.

"Some ghosts never leave us?" Kai asked, repeating her final words to him.

She smiled. "And no matter how bad they burn me," she whispered, reaching out a burned hand to touch Kai, "I will always rise from the ashes."

Tags: @shellyseashell @cinderswrench @healing-winston-pratt @just2bubbly @silverstars21 @gingerale2017 @the-wee-woo-rita @zephyr-thedragon @bookpapaya @cindersassasin @the-jewel-of-ketterdam

[paris-torres-month]

SeP/Tember Day 29: Worst Case Scenario

“There’s room in every good story for a little bit of passion.”

“You know, maybe you’re onto something. I could add a steamy love scene between the Starfleet conn officer and the Maquis engineer.”

Awwwwww, BEST case scenario for a Tom & B’Elanna holodeck adventure, right?!

B’Elanna stumbles across an old holodeck programme, Insurrection Alpha, where the mutinous Maquis take over the ship, and can’t resist playing it. Tom bursts in on her because she forgot to lock the door (and she was late for their lunch date), and HE can’t resist playing it. It. Is. A. Blast! (not literally until later)

But, alas, the programme doesn’t finish, it simply ends. They decide to find out who wrote it and convince them to write the ending.

After taking a vow of silence B’Elanna blabs to the Doctor, and soon half the crew is running Insurrection Alpha & the other half is talking about it. Tuvok confesses that he’s the author & says he’ll delete it. Janeway thinks it’s a fun diversion, three years in, and tells Tuvok to finish it so she the crew can play it out.

Everyone has ideas! including B’Elanna. She busts in on Tom & Tuvok’s writing session and she & Tom get to discuss the merits of a steamy love scene. What could be more perfect than a little bit of passion? Not much, that’s for sure. Tuvok can barely contain his un-Vulcan-like excitement at the idea.

Unfortunately, we get life & death drama instead when, upon opening the programme in the holodeck to start adding to it, Tom & Tuvok accidentally trigger Seska’s rewrite. There’s nothing worse than a fic writer stealing another writer’s idea and writing an unauthorized sequel! Tom and Tuvok are caught in the programme, Tom gets bash up, B’Elanna worries (we’re only a couple of episodes off from Day of Honor here), and KJ & B’Elanna get to Science! together in order to help save the menfolk. All in all, one of our favourite episodes!

Oh, and we get to see how awful Tom looks in yellow.

And in yet another ugly vest.

Stick to jewel tones, Tom!

Today is National Coffee Day, so drink up! Again, we could have gone with Threshold, but, again, why would we (unless we cut off the last 15 minutes)? Today’s prompts are:

WORST CASE SCENARIO - Holodeck adventure gone wrong - Steamy love scene - Naked Bolian