#break the cycle prequel

[sonasnowdrop]

M’LADY 🤨🏳️‍🌈❓

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

something so visceral about that moment when dean looks his nineteen year old father in the eye and you see absolutely everything. this is the man he could only ever disappoint who he was never enough for who punished him needlessly for nothing and who left him stranded and alone for twenty seven years of his life. but he is only nineteen and standing here right now he could have a whole other future. where he is kind and loving. and dean looks him in the eye and hands him a journal and says please write your own story. i am letting you go. jesus christ

[ashenberry]

the boss & naked snakes dynamic does make me a bit insane and i wish we could so more of it but like. in game it would need to be a prequel bc the whole point during snake eater is that you dont know what the hell she is thinking

[defmaybe]

Sticky

ITZY’s Shin Yuna x Male Reader

1.9k words

Prequel to Party Police

See also: Not Shy

A/N: I write this in two sittings for probably the only mommy Yuna fic lol - BFH-type shit. No editing, no beta-reading, just pure lust again.

–

The clickings of the keyboards displace silence. Again, you’re stuck in the mundane cycle of doing another proposal for the project you’re going to lead. Sighs and sighs don’t keep you from drowsiness building up inside. Others don’t seem to do better even, some even folded on their desks already. The chilly breeze from the conditioner really is relentless right now, so damn perfect for a nap.

“Miss Shin wants you,” the secretary says, keeping you from falling into slumber.

You quickly get up from your desk, pacing towards the glass-paned office. You see your other co-workers dreading their assignments, clicking on their keyboards with blank eyes. On the opposite side, you can see, through the horizontal blinds, the vibrant office with your boss, Shin Yuna, doing the decorations inside. She’s tall (well, taller than you, at least), often confident, and so energetic, contrary to the department she just got handed over a few weeks ago.

You knock on the transparent door, seeing her putting on her Lady Bird poster on the wall. She’s wearing a one-piece raven black dress, one that hugs her slim, otherworldly curvy body so well. You can see her wide hips being so prominent, stripping away your fatigue.

“Come in!” she says, looking over her shoulders as she’s finishing the touch-ups.

You open the door, greeted with the scent of her air purifier—spring. The white fur carpet on the floor welcomes you with the sensations on your soles. Her office is spacious, and the colorful decorations fit her attitude and personality so much.

“Please, sit down,” she says with a smile, hand pointing to the seat in front of her desk. Even the cluttering trinkets on her table never look crowded, they are so meticulously placed to give her a perfect amount of space left for her work.

You accept her invitation, walking towards the seat. Yuna also retreats from her sprinklings back to hers, sitting down in her chair gracefully—a charming boss.

The air hangs heavy for a while, as Yuna takes some time to clear her desk. You glance around the room like the other times. The crucial difference being the Lady Bird poster, of course, and a few more band posters that you can’t quite recall from your listening history.

“So…” Yuna breaks the silence, tapping a finger on her chin, contemplating. “I see that you’ve been looking a little tired. Is that true?”

You blabber out, “N-No! I’m not tired a-at all.” You even put your hands up to deny the allegation.

“Those eyes don’t lie, baby.” The utterance of the last word alone freezes you. Is she flirting?

Let’s pause for a bit. Shin Yuna just got promoted to being your department’s manager—now three weeks in tenure. Her bubbly and kind personality receives multiple acclaim from your co-workers. And combined with her insanely high performances in projects, you cannot see how she wouldn’t get the position. 

Now, that friendly personality can be a bit, to say the least, slightly invasive. Yuna has always been so eager to fire up a talk with people, even if it means robbing someone’s silence. She’s also always happy to help those around her, no matter the methods. You’ve heard some complaints about her vivacious nature, but with the results saying otherwise, you just cannot dislike her for that.

“A-Are you suggesting I should go home or s-something?” you ask, unable to register how she’s getting up to close the blinds, as if she’s asking for some privacy from the outside right now. The room seems to shrink.

“Oh, does it look like that? Not at all, baby,” there it is again, baby.

“As your boss, I have to make sure that you stay productive for the day’s work!” Her smile lights the room up, as she walks towards her chair and sits down again. “I can’t have my employees dreading their jobs and expect a satisfactory performance.”

“Y-You’re very kind, M-Miss Shin,” you stammer out, and she seems to be happy with your words.

“Now tell me.” Yuna leans in closer to you, giving you the fine details of her face—doe eyes, minty breath, rose-colored lips. “Are you familiar with… mommy kink?”

You freeze, not expecting such a question from your manager. The gears in your head are working their best to seek the best answer you can give her, let alone making sense of the peculiar situation.

“A-Aga-”

“I’m certain of what I’ve said, mister,” she cuts you off, stern. Her expression reduces into an emotionless state. “Mommy kink, yes or no.”

“Uh…” That’s the only answer you can give her. The prospect of fully submitting to Miss Shin Yuna seems too enticing. Yet, perhaps it’s your inhibition that’s stopping your desire from falling into places.

“Come, sit on my lap,” Yuna instructs.

You glance around the room—left, right, back—as if to delay the inevitable of her pleasuring you.

“Now,” Yuna now commands, her voice steps down a few notes. 

“And there’s no camera hidden here, I promise,” she says with a smile, comforting you a little.

You slowly get up from your seat. What if I don’t do well enough for her? You walk around her table to land at your destination, your back against her face. She adjusts her position on her chair a little to accommodate your ass.

Her thighs feel… strong—definitely a result of workouts she has had after work. The images of those sweaty, skimpy sessions are making your mouth quiver—the fluid dripping down her body, just for you to taste.

Her hands start from grabbing the both sides of your slutty hips, earning a small whimper from you.

“So yearning for mommy’s touch, aren’t you?” Yuna giggles, moving her frisky fingers to unbutton your blue shirt.

“Y-Yes, mommy.” Your breath comes out in a false rhythm.

With your abdomen being gradually exposed, she uses a hand to feel it a bit, sending shocks and shocks through your faltering body.

“F-Fuck.”

“Hmm, so needy for mommy~” Yuna then continues her groping, until the last button is freed. Your upper body is bare under the cold air of the conditioner right now, as she brings the fondling hand up to your throat.

“Do you want my lips on you, baby boy?” Yuna asks, breaths warming the back of your neck. You can only nod at her.

Consented, she plants her lips on your body, and you are sure that the rosy prints are going to stick with you until the end of the day. Still, is it a fact that you should care right now? Getting groped by your goddess of a manager, with her being your mommy, on top of it.

You shiver at her kisses.

She frees your throat  before drawing her hand down to play with your raging bulge. She can definitely feel your cock aching to be freed right now.

“Need a hand, baby?” again, she asks, hand fondling the tent in your pants.

You become a stuttering mess at this point. “Y-Yes, m-mommy, please.”

“Please… what, baby boy?” She’s playing coy with you for sure.

“P-Please use your hand on my c-cock, please,” you utter out.

She whispers into your ear, “Good boy.” 

She unzips your pants, hand then slithering into the hole. The sensations are even stronger right now, with your underwear being the only barrier between you and her.

She keeps kissing your moaning neck, printing roses wherever she can reach. Her hand is stuck in fondling your cock through the slim cloth.

“Mommy, p-please,” you whimper, desire burning too brightly.

“Say please again, baby boy, and I’ll touch your cock.” Yuna giggles, enjoying how you’re submitting to your boss so damn easily.

“Please, m-mommy.”

Yuna wastes no time to push all of your lower garments down in a single motion, exposing your throbbing, twitching cock in glory. She hums in satisfaction at the sight.

“Hmm~, baby boy, so hard for me already?” she asks, finger drawing a line on the back of your cock from the bottom to the top. It twitches in response.

“Ngh, y-yes, m-m-mommy.” Yuna seems to be happy with your answer as she strokes your cock leisurely.

Her slender fingers only do what they have to do: sliding up and down to make you shatter under her touch. She starts at a slow pace, only teasing you about what’s coming. Her other hand roams under your shirt, moving down onto your juicy ass.

“Ngh, mommy,” you utter, pleasure building up in your loins. The sensations become stronger as seconds passed.

Yuna giggles at your whimpering, “Yes, baby boy?”

“I-I-, ngh,” you cannot form any words under her spell. Fuck.

Yuna cannot hold her chuckle inside, clearly satisfied with her baby boy melting under her touch. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Faster, please,” you finally respond, slightly out of breath from the overwhelming sparks all over your body.

Yuna listens to your plea, quickening the strokes, bringing you closer to the edge. Fuck, your slutty moans are probably heard by the people outside now.

The squelches of Yuna’s strokes are filling the room, along with your needy whimpers and her satisfactory hums. “I just wanna spend the whole day jerking this cock~” Yuna expresses, your heart flutters at her words.

“And I mean it, really,” she continues, still keeping the moderate pace of her hand from behind. 

“The size, the curvature, the thickness, god, I’m sure it can stretch mommy’s cunt out so well,” she whispers, and your length just cannot get harder at this second.

“M-Mommy, would you berate me i-if I- fuck.” you struggle to lead your words out, stuttering everywhere you can. She’s still jerking your cock, nursing you with another hand roaming over your body to over stimulate.

“Fast cummer, baby?” She chuckles at your apprehension. “You’re doing well, baby. I think this is the perfect pace for us.”

“T-Thanks, mommy,” you say, feeling the tightening of your knot already. “M-Mommy, where c-can I cum?”

“Ooh, that’s an interesting question, baby boy,” Yuna laughs. “I don’t think the higher-ups would mind a few stains from us~,”

“W-Wha-”

“Shh, let mommy handle this,” she affirms. “Just stay on my lap and let me milk your cock, okay?”

Your mind goes feral, aching for release. Her hand relentlessly stroking your length and another traversing your compact frame just overloads your mind. “Y-Yes mommy.”

“Good boy, now, cum for me, please.”

And it hits, you become undone at her touch, like a lightning. Your sticky cum is shot everywhere—on her desk, on the floor, hell, even on yourself. You moan in the pleasure of her touch and the mind-shattering orgasm. “Mommy!” you shout. Yeah, everyone is going to hear that.

“Wow,” Yuna pants, before planting a kiss on your neck. She doesn’t seem to mind the fact that your seed is on her precious report right now. “You came so much for mommy.”

You try to catch your breath, before speaking out, “Thanks, mommy.”

–

[pickingupmymercedes]

She's not here, but she'll be - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he

requests: "hello can i request one with lewis where he has been having a baby fever ... fluff and smut of course. and can we have a very slow and sexy one because he wants to take his time with her 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻" - anon 2 ;

"hi, can I request a prequel to She's here and she's ours ... maybe it was hard to conceive and things weren't always all flowers" - anon 1

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: mentions of troubles with infertility, unprotected sexual activities (all sorts)

Also, wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +2K

a/n: Combined requests again because anon 2 asked for something that gave me the idea for the prequeal (sorry for how long it took anon 1, but hope the wait was worth it)

a/n.2: The tone of this whole series is mixing angst and fluff, this time I added a bit of smut too, hope you guys like it

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The discarded ovulation test lay on the bathroom counter, a white plastic screaming what her ovulation app had already warned to. Y/n stared at it, not really sure she even wanted to know about it that month.

The more you want something, the harder it is. That's what they said anyway, and apparently it wasn't any different when it came to “trying” to get pregnant, a euphemism that felt increasingly hollow with each passing cycle.

Doctors assured her a year was still considered normal, but the constant hum of wanting, the way it colored every conversation, every shared glance, was starting to wear on them both.

Six months. Six months of basal body temperatures, ovulation predictors, and Lewis’ frustrated attempts at scheduling "baby time" around his chaotic schedule.

“Again?” as Lewis emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he saw her face, then the test on her hands and his smile faltered.

He sighed, walking over to wrap his arms around Y/n. She leaned into him, but the spark of hope she usually felt was absent.

"It's been too long, Lew" she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. " The schedules, apps, and ovulation calendars. It's driving me insane."

“Maybe we just need to try harder” he suggested, trying to be optimistic. But the forced cheer didn't fool her.

“Harder?” Y/n pulled back slightly, the edge in her voice surprising even herself. “Lewis, it's like we're robots. Everything's always timed, charted…”

Lewis turned to face her. "You think I enjoy this? Every time we fail, it's like there's this... pressure. Like if it doesn't work, it's my fault."

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his. "It's not about fault. It's about us. It feels like we’re losing sight of why we wanted this in the first place."

"It's not supposed to feel calculated, is it?" he said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone. "We both want this, right?"

"Of course, we do," Y/n insisted, her voice a touch too sharp. "But it's like we're robots following a program instead of… you know, a couple."

He took a step back, his face contorting with hurt. "That's not fair, Y/N. We’re trying our best here. Circumstances might not be the most ideal but it’s what we got"

Tears welled up in her eyes, her frustration boiling over. Lewis's shoulders slumped as he saw the evident fear in her eyes, his anger giving way to hopelessness. "I just... I don't know what else to do."

"Maybe," Y/N's voice held such certainty that surprised even herself, "maybe we should take a break.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise starting to take hold in his eyes. "A break? From trying?"

"Yeah," she took a deep breath before continuing, a growing conviction in her tone. "From the apps, schedules, calendar, the whole... stress. We just focus on us, and why we want this."

He was silent for a moment, considering her words. "What if it takes even longer?"

"Then... we'll deal with that when we get there," she said, her hand gently touching his cheek. "I want this pregnancy, but not like this. Not at the cost of us."

Lewis closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of their struggles hanging heavy in the air. He shook his head with an understanding nod "We've been so caught up in this that we've forgotten about us." he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

"I love you; you know ?!" she whispered, the words catching him by surprise in their suddenness. She hadn't said them in days, maybe weeks, the unspoken worry choking the words back.

Lewis tilted his head, his gaze searching hers. "I love you, always." His voice was laced with tenderness. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "We'll get there " he whispered. "We'll have our family. I believe that with all my heart."

The positive pregnancy test felt surreal. Lewis and Y/n sat on the bed, the silence in the room only broken by the soft hum of the air conditioner. The digital test lay between them, its stark message still blinking: "Pregnant 5-6 weeks."

Y/n turned to Lewis, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and disbelief. "This can’t be real," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’ve been on the pill... we weren’t even trying."

Lewis stared at the test, then at her, his mind struggling to process the information. "We haven't thought about having kids for over a year." he stated, his voice filled with bewilderment

Tears filled Y/n’s eyes, but this time a mix of confusion and hope. "I didn’t even think about missing my period." she confessed. "I thought it was just the stress of the season, the move, the change in routines…"

Lewis wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "This is real," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "We’re really going to be parents."

They sat there for a while, holding each other, the reality of their news slowly sinking in. The past months of not even considering pregnancy, of relying on birth control, seemed to amplify the miracle of this moment. The weight of their previous struggles felt lighter, replaced by the shock and anticipation of the new life they had miraculously created.

"Five to six weeks," Y/n murmured, looking at the test again. "How could this happen?"

Lewis frowned, trying to remember. "What were we doing around then?" he asked, his brow furrowing in thought.

Y/n bit her lip, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don’t know... maybe I missed a pill or something. But I really thought I was careful."

Lewis looked at her thoughtfully, his fingers tracing soothing circles on her hands “That’s not on you love, we decided on no condoms, remember?! We knew it could happen”.

Then, out of the blue with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Wait a minute," he said, his eyes lighting up with realization. "Silverstone."

Y/n’s eyes widened as she remembered and stated "Silverstone!” Lewis nodded, a grin spreading across his face. Y/n's cheeks flushed as she recalled the night. She looked at Lewis, a smile spreading across her face despite the lingering shock.

Lewis looked at her, his grin widening. "It makes sense, doesn't it?"

Y/n laughed softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "I guess we were celebrating more than just you that night."

"We were celebrating us" Lewis said, his voice filled with warmth and love. "And now, we have even more to celebrate."

He leaned in, kissing her tenderly, resting their foreheads against each other when they pulled back.

"We're going to be parents," she whispered, the reality finally settling in.

"We're going to be parents," Lewis echoed, his heart swelling with joy and excitement. "I love you, Y/n. And I love our little one so much already."

The Silverstone circuit buzzed with the electric energy of a crowd celebrating a hero’s homecoming. Lewis, now a Ferrari driver, had held his own, going from p3 at the starting line to the tallest step of the podium, beaming as the Union Jack waved above him.

After the race, the celebration shifted to a more intimate setting. Lewis’s family, Y/n, and a tight-knit group of friends gathered at a house in the countryside nearby. The energy of the race lingered, laughter and music filling the air. It was a night of toasts.

As the party slowly wound down, the house fell silent. Guests retired to their rooms, and the sun began to hint at its arrival on the horizon, leaving Lewis and Y/n by themselves in the garden, the weight of the day finally sinking in.

“Can you believe it?” Lewis whispered, his voice hoarse from cheering. He was sprawled on the couch, Y/n nestled against him.

“You were amazing,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I’m so proud of you.”

He kissed her forehead gently, his eyes closing as he felt the exhaustion wash over him. “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll celebrate properly tomorrow.”

Y/n nodded, her eyelids heavy and he led them to their bedroom.

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the unknown room. Y/n stirred, her body snug against Lewis’s as he spooned her, one arms securely holding her close and the other serving as her pillow.

As she shifted, she felt a familiar pressure against her back. She turned slightly, her eyes opening to find Lewis still asleep, his breathing was steady, but she could feel his arousal pressing into her. A soft moan escaped his lips as he dreamt, his hips subtly moving against her.

Y/n smiled to herself, a gentle warmth spreading through her at the feeling of him. She shifted again, trying not to wake him, but his eyes fluttered open. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning, champ,” she replied softly, turning her head to look at him.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling despite the lingering fatigue. “I must have been having a really good dream,” he joked, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip.

Y/n chuckled, pressing back against him. “I noticed” she teased rubbing her ass with a bit more vigor against him.

She could feel his arousal growing more insistent as his breaths came out in hisses. She bit her lip, considering their options. “Do you think anyone’s awake?” she whispered, glancing towards the door.

“Probably,” Lewis replied, his hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to caress her skin. “But we can be quiet.”

A shiver ran through her at his touch, and she nodded. “I doubt you’ll let me” her voice dropping to a whisper. He smiled mischievously, his fingers trailing up her side. “I’ll try,” he promised.

Slowly, he rolled her onto her side, spooning her again from behind. He nuzzled into her neck, his hand sliding down to the waistband of her shorts. She held her breath as his fingers slipped inside, brushing against her most sensitive spot.

She gasped softly, biting her lip to stifle the sound. “Lew” she breathed, her hips instinctively pressing back against him.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, teasing and exploring until she was panting with need. Her hands gripped the sheets, trying to stay quiet as he worked her up.

When he finally slid a finger inside her, she had to bite down on the pillow to keep from crying out. He added another finger, stretching her gently, his movements unhurried and tender. She could feel his breath hot against her neck, his own restraint evident in the way he held her.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yeah” she whispered, barely able to speak. “Please.”

He positioned himself at her entrance, his hands gripping her hips as he slowly pushed inside. She moaned softly, the feeling of him filling her almost overwhelming. He paused once he was fully seated, giving her time to adjust, the pause also helping him control his breathing.

When she took a deep breath, relaxing into the sensation of him with a “You can move.” he started with slow, gentle thrusts, his arms wrapped tightly around her. The rhythm was languid, each movement measured and precise. Y/n’s breaths came in short, quiet gasps, her body trembling with each stroke.

The room was filled with the sound of their breathing, the occasional creak of the bed as they moved together. Every so often, she had to remind him to stay quiet, her whispers blending with his low grunts.

When he hit a particularly sensitive spot, she bit back a cry, his hand reaching to cover her mouth. She licked her fingers, his thrusts becoming more insistent with the scene.

“I can’t… I’m so close,” she panted, her voice muffled against his hand, her body arching against him.

“Just a little longer, love, I’m almost there.” He quickened his pace, each movement somehow reaching deeper.

Lewis’s body tensed, his toes curling as he felt her walls starting to flutter, and with a final, deep thrust, he came shortly after her, their bodies shaking with the intensity of it. She buried her face in the pillow, stifling her cries as Lewis held her tightly and lowly grunted into her neck.

For a moment, they lay there, catching their breath, the room filled with the soft glow of morning light. Finally, Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, just below where he had left his mark, his arms still wrapped around her.

“Best celebration ever,” he whispered, a satisfied smile on his face. Y/n laughed softly, turning her head to kiss him. “Next time though, we’ll wait until I can have my way with you, no muffed moans”

She chuckled, nuzzling into his neck. “Deal.”

______________________________________________________________

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[sanchoyo]

cannot believe its the 20th (well. about to be the 21st i guess) you're telling me im 20 days/chapters into nano? that I have to end this whole story in the next 9-10 days???

but I love them. I dont WANT to end it. :(

[jackdaw-kraai]

I think there’s something rather strange going on with all the folks who insist that the Jedi Order in the PT was right and didn’t forbid love and Anakin should just have followed their teachings when the whole point of the prequels is that they are prequels. They come before the OT, and the OT proves the Jedi wrong. They literally do not make sense if they don’t do that.

Luke, in the original trilogy, gains his ultimate triumph, his ultimate victory, because he loved in defiance of the teachings of the old Order. He quite literally had the ghosts of the past telling him, explicitly and without ambiguity, that he has to put his love for his father aside and kill him, as is the duty of a Jedi. Luke has the weight of millennia of teachings weighing down on his shoulders, telling him they knew and know better than a young, inexperienced man barely out of his teenager years. That he should follow their teachings or be destroyed. That is an immense weight to carry, and many people would and explicitly have given in to it in-universe. What are your feelings and ideals in the face of such immense legacy, after all?

But Luke doesn’t give in.

He doesn’t bend.

He says “I may be young, and I may be new, but I believe to my heart and soul that love matters more than this legacy. Matters more than your teachings.” And he says this to the ghosts of his mentors. That is such a powerful moment and one I can’t believe George Lucas didn’t create deliberately for even a second. This young man, being told he has to kill or die trying for a system that is dead or dying itself, that couldn’t survive itself, and refusing to do so. He is the living refusing to continue the violence of a dead generation. He is the young man refusing the draft into a war the old generation started, saying “peace and love matters more than you being right.” He is the embodiment of breaking the cycle.

And the movies vindicate him.

The main villain vindicates him with his last dying breath.

Darth Vader, dying, says “You were right.” and admits he and his were wrong. The main antagonist, Luke’s nemesis, in the face of his son’s immense, defiant love, gives way and does the impossible: he comes back to the light and dies a Jedi. The very thing the old Order says was impossible.

They were wrong. They have to be. The narrative demands it, the movies don’t make sense without it.

The solution was never to continue the cycle of the old Order, or Luke would have failed there, would have failed when he said “I am a Jedi, like my father before me.” And claimed that defiant, deviant, condemned definition of being a Jedi over the one presented to him by the Grandmaster of the old Order. If the old Order was right, Luke would have to be wrong. Be wrong about love, be wrong about laying down the sword, be wrong about refusing to fight. He would have to be wrong.

But the old Order is dead, explicitly killed by a monster, in some part, of their own making. It’s members only existing as bones in the ground or ghosts speaking from beyond the grave. They did not deserve it, it should not have been inflicted on them, but the narrative is clear on this: “The old way is dead, and was dying for a long time before that. Long live the new.”

Luke is that new. Luke is the breaking of the cycle, the reforging of swords into ploughs, the extended hand. Luke says “I don’t care how much I was hurt, I refuse to hurt you back, and you don’t need to hurt me either.”

“We can end this together and choose love instead.”

And Darth Vader, killer of the Jedi, End of the Order, lays down his arms as well, and reaches back as Anakin, saying “You were right.”

It wasn’t Obi-Wan, Yoda, Mace, Qui-Gon, or even Ahsoka who achieved the ultimate victory in the end, following the tenants of the old Order. It was Luke. Young, inexperienced Luke, who saw that the age of legacy handed to him was only history, that the sword handed to him as his life was only a tool, and that the decrees of the dead were only advice. And he took it all, said “thank you for your experience, but I’ve got it from here,” and laid it all down to instead extend an open hand towards his enemy.

And his victory, his ultimate triumph, his vindication, was that he was proven right when his enemy reached back and became just another person. Just another person, just like him.

The Jedi did not deserve what happened to them, and they did not deserve to die. But the story is clear on this: the Jedi of old were wrong, and the Jedi of new, the Last Jedi, was right. No sword or death will ever end the rule of the sword or end the bloodshed. But love?

Love can ignite the stars.

[queer-ragnelle]

Hi! I really want to read the vulgate cycle but I have a hard time staying focused when reading it. Are there any sections of the vulgate that are not as important to the understanding or able to skip? Thank you so much for making all these stories accessible and thanks for your reply :))

Hello my friend! This is a great question and one I get a lot. The Vulgate Cycle is long and daunting, but I can help you navigate it!

Firstly, here is the full Vulgate Cycle PDF collection for everyone to read. Secondly, I'll summarize what you can do, and elaborate below a cut.

TL;DR

If reading a PDF, use CTRL+F to find your favorite character's name/stories.

If reading a physical copy, utilize the index (located at the very end of the Post Vulgate) to find them.

Discover chapters of interest from the summary page (also located at the very end of the Post Vulgate).

Skip The History of the Holy Grail and begin with The Story of Merlin or Lancelot I.

Now, let's break down the ways you can navigate the Vulgate Cycle step by step.

CTRL+F

This option will certainly be less effective if your favorite character is a prominent one such as Lancelot or Gawain as they appear a million times. However, if you want to learn more about someone else, say, the Lady of the Lake, you can search her up and find every instance of her appearance. Like so.

Index

In the very back of the final book of the Post Vulgate, there's an Index listing every named character [Ex: Gawain], location [Ex: Orkney Isles], entity [Ex: Holy Spirit], animal [Ex: Gringalet the horse], and language [Ex: Hebrew] mentioned in the entirety of the Vulgate Cycle. There you'll find a list of which book/chapter/page they appear in. Here are all the mentions of Gawain's horse in The Book of Merlin.

Chapter Summaries

Each book of the Vulgate Cycle has a Table of Contents with the chapter numbers and long, descriptive titles. That alone may give you an indication of what you want to read. However, at the back of the Post Vulgate, right before the Index, there's a list of every chapter in the Vulgate Cycle with a summary of events. That will give you more detail and may help you decide if you want to read in full.

Skip

If it sucks, hit da bricks. The beauty of the Vulgate Cycle is that you don't need The History of the Grail or The Book of Merlin to understand what comes later. I enjoy them because History gives a ton of background to the religious themes the Grail Quest will eventually explore and sets up all the motifs way in advance and Merlin has the Orkney Bros as well as Yvain and Sagramore as kids which is fun. But the fact is you can begin with Lancelot I and you won't be lost. Lancelot I was written first, Merlin is a prequel, so it's optional, and the motifs of the Grail Quest are going to be heavy handed when you get there anyway without the added stuff from History. That's hundreds of pages you can skip if you want to! Norris J. Lacy, the head editor, and his translation team did a phenomenal job with footnotes throughout, so if a character off-handedly refers back to something, you can rely on them to leave a little note at the bottom for you to refresh your memory with. It'll even give you a chapter/page number if you want to refer back yourself. Here's a footnote referring to Agravaine's unnamed amie [his ladylove] who helped wing woman her sister to romance Gawain. That was 4 chapters prior to this moment.

So there are plenty of ways to navigate the Vulgate Cycle and make it more digestible. That being said, it's translated so beautifully by Lacy and his team, that it reads like a modern novel. I have no doubt that once you get started, you'll become invested, and find it much easier to work through than you first thought. It's long-winded and character dense but it's fun. I do hope you're able to read it and understand why I love it so much! Thanks for this ask and I hope this helps. Have a great day!

[a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan]

Guys. Why is there even a debate here. Some of the games were explicitly written to be connected, some of them weren't. Not everything has to fit into one cohesive timeline. As a matter of fact, they can't. Now, there is some more nuance to it. Read below for my explanation (infodump) plus a more nuanced chart.

Red and blue lines are canon within the games' text. Ambiguities are filled in with green. I'll get more into that later. Let's first explain the two completely separate mini timelines.

The Four Swords miniseries stands mostly alone. The Master Sword and the Triforce are present in every other game or (mostly--looking at you, Master Sword in LoZ and AoL) have a good reason not to be, but they are not present at all in these three games. Instead, we have the Four Sword and Light Force. The only wrinkle is that Ganondorf shows up in FSA... so I don't know about that one. I don't think anyone does.

As for BotW and TotK. Oh brother. What do we do with these. Skyward Sword is intended to take place seemingly millennia, or at least several centuries before Ocarina. We see the founding of Hyrule with the first monarch and her chosen knight, the cycle of recurring evil and heroism being established, and the forging of the Master Sword

Wait. What about Rauru and Sonia? I thought they were the first rulers of Hyrule. And if the Zonai were around long before Hyrule, where is any of their presence in Skyward Sword? Huh. Alright. We don't know how much time passed between the first Calamity and the second, but from the past era of TotK to its present, we can account for at least 10,105 years of history. We don't even need to get into how Zora and Rito coexist or anything smaller like that. There's just no fucking way these two games fit with any of the others. Fine, that's fine. Moving on.

There's also a little hiccup around the Oracles. Nintendo seems to go back and force on whether the Oracles feature the same Link as in ALttP and LA, but if they do, it probably makes more sense that Oracles happen before LA (the linked Oracle game ends with Link boarding sailing off on a small ship and LA starts with him on one). So like... I guess they fit there?

Either way, let's take a second to look back at where this idea of a timeline split happened. Remember that WW and TP both clearly take place after OoT. That isn't theorizing, that's in the actual text of each game. The thing is, they're mutually exclusive. TP has Ganondorf being executed, as he would have been after the Hero of Time goes back to his original era and warns Zelda that her plan to get to the Triforce first isn't going to work (which is implied to be what happens at the "The End" screen of OoT). WW has Ganondorf coming back by breaking the seal put on him, and the Hero of Time didn't appear to stop him again (as would happen if Link was sent back in time). Fans started theorizing way back in 2006 that OoT created separate timelines, with WW and TP being mutually exclusive sequels to it as the evidence.

Some fans have asserted that Nintendo just "took" the fan theory. But come on, put everything together here. The texts of OoT, WW, and TP HEAVILY imply the timeline split. The only reason we called it a theory is because the writers didn't literally say "And then the timeline split in two". The texts are pretty clear though. It's the only thing that makes sense. That isn't to say that there needs to be a cohesive timeline, and that the split is the only way to fit it together. No, OoT is connected to both WW and TP no matter what. That was the intent. It's just that the explanation for OoT to have mutually exclusive sequels actually fits neatly into the texts of the games.

And now we come to the tricky part. Put yourself back into the 90s real quick. ALttP seems to have been written as a prequel to Zelda 1, showing Hyrule before its period of decline. Alright, let's just accept that because it may as well be true. The lore at that point was so thin that it made enough sense. I kinda slapped Zelda 1 and 2 at the end there to show it, because we do have a cohesive timeline from ALttP to TFH. That's fine, all well and good.

Likewise, OoT seems to be written as a prequel to ALttP. We see conflict over the Triforce, the origin of Ganon, the seven sages, and an earlier iteration of the Master Sword. Back in 1998, we had no reason to not believe it. These are tenuous connections that are not explicit in the games' text, so I've paired them with green lines to show it.

But wait. ALttP is ALSO mutually exclusive to TP and WW. Oh brother. What do we do about this? Even after figuring out the timeline split in 2006, fans didn't know what the fuck to do with the first four games of this franchise. They could go after TP, but that's even messier than putting them right after OoT. Yuck. This doesn't feel good at all. Oh yeah, and then there's the Four Swords games that don't fit anywhere.

Now you can imagine the position the writers of Hyrule Historia found themselves in when they were tasked with creating an official timeline. Some of the games have certain explicit connections, as detailed in my first chart. But they had to cram everything into one timeline. Well. They knew they had a timeline split in OoT, because that's what the texts of OoT, WW, and TP collectively say. The lore of ALttP also mentions seven sages (or wise men, but let's call them sages), but not a legendary hero. So... if you really stretch your brain out here... it kinda makes sense that there's a timeline where the Hero of Time died fighting Ganon. Maybe. Kinda. Not really, but kinda. And then there's the Four Swords miniseries. Fuck it, throw them in randomly.

The two-way split doesn't disagree with OoT's text at all, which said that Link won. The three-way split does disagree with it by asserting that Link lost. But if we're really trying to fit everything into one timeline, that is the cleanest place to put them. Some people really hate this, but it does seem that those are the same people that demanded that there be an official timeline in the first place. ie the same people who were gonna be pissed off with anything Nintendo gave them that wasn't exactly their own theory being confirmed.

Alright, real talk. The producers of the Zelda series have said time and time again that they think of what would make a fun game then write a story that fits around it. The Wind Waker devs wanted you to sail around the ocean. Then the writers decided "oh, we could put this after Ocarina! After all, weren't they left without a hero? What if Ganon came back with no one to stop him? How would that problem resolve itself? What if the gods just flooded the world?" Then the Twilight Princess devs wanted a spiritual successor to Ocarina, with an epic adventure on horseback across the traditional Zelda kingdom setting. So the writers went "hey, in Ocarina, Link warned Zelda about Ganon, right? What if he was executed then, and then the world was never flooded?"

We have to realize that trying to put games with this design philosophy into a neat little timeline is a futile effort. It's never gonna work because it wasn't designed to. More so than any other storytelling medium, video games take so many approaches to continuity. The Halo games were all meant to be sequential and fit neatly into a strict timeline. Pokemon is all canon within itself but the ties between games are less important than the stories of each game. Mario essentially has no canon except for recurring characters and settings. Zelda is gameplay first, canon second. That's why the two most recent mainline games don't even try to fit in the canon of the previous eighteen. That's just how it works and we're gonna have to accept that.

[sonasnowdrop]

“Quite the gal, oh gosh have you met her? She’s so polite and has the voice of an Angel. You should meet her sometime, she’s Drew’s daughter.”

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

it's spn win bcos spn we stay winning

[mickeys-malarkey]

Pt. 3/3: My BATDR Timeline & Plot Twist Theories!

First, I think both BATIM and BATDR take place sometime between 1978 and 1991. I already suspected BATDR was happening in the ‘80s based on the fact that card readers – which have featured in many of the environment screenshots we've seen – were invented in 1979...

…and Audrey's clothes and hairstyle look very 1980s.

Then they released the images of Audrey's office, where her chair and desk lamps also look very 1980s, and the wallpaper and flooring looks pretty 1970s…

…and @inkdemonapologist pointed out that the type of bankruptcy we see documents for in Joey's apartment didn't exist until 1978…

…and I remembered that Joey's apartment also had a newspaper whose headline took place in the future— Princess Diana's 30th birthday which, as TetraBitGaming on YouTube pointed out, would be in 1991 since Princess Diana was born in 1961. She should be two years old if BATIM were really taking place in 1963!

Maybe, at the time, they didn't mean for these two to be clues, since they seem to have rolled the date backwards a bit from the newspaper one; but at this point it feels pretty clear when BATDR takes place, to me. And I'm even more certain than I already was, after finding out that this image from the JDS website…

…is titled “museum” (good work yoinking it, @halfusek /gen 👍🏻), that we know the ink dimension's new home: Nathan Arch Sr.'s private Joey Drew Studios museum that he mentioned he was curating in TIOL (meaning it's existed since around 1972).

“Over the years, I have collected every single piece of the studio memorabilia I could find to restore it to its former glory, to create, in a sense, a private museum that gleamed with the true vision of Joey Drew…” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 2

Also, besides the fact the museum image has clearly aged, here's some more evidence that at least a few years have probably passed since Bendy was purchased: it generally takes a fair bit more time (years!!) to make movies/documentaries, as Archgate Pictures seems to have made about Joey, than it does to make shorts.

As for BATIM, I think that time has been moving as normal outside of the loop, we were just seeing a repeat of that significant day in 1963; Henry and Joey have been trapped in the ink dimension for somewhere between twenty and thirty years, and the bankruptcy paperwork and Princess Diana newspaper were pieces of the real world leaking into the memory. This explains how there seems to be evidence of Audrey in BATIM and how BATDR is still supposedly neither sequel nor prequel to BATIM despite all the evidence that it takes place long after 1963! They're happening at the same time!! I wonder if Audrey is the daughter of the little girl we hear at the end of BATIM? So, Henry's (great-)granddaughter or Joey's (great-)great-niece?

Now, onto my big theory: the plot twist.

If they handle it right, it would be really, really cool if “break the cycle” really doesn't just mean “end the time loop” but also “break the cycle of abuse/trauma” and a lot of the huge cast of not-so-innocent characters wind up with the potential to get redemption arcs. I have an idea of exactly how they might be planning on even providing the opportunity for Joey.

Victor McKnight commented this on his Artistic Hallowing music video and pinned it:

Those last two sentences. “Make sure you're watching every second! You don't want to miss any vital information. 😉” Does that not sound to anyone else like he's got insider information? Now, I want y'all to watch these music videos that either Victor himself or his brother Noah were suspiciously involved in all of (and one of which is supposedly a BATDS song but for some reason involves Audrey) and tell me if you notice any patterns.

This one seems to be a duet between Sammy and the Ink Demon, both singing to Audrey. Sammy mostly sings in the default sepiatone, asking us things like “Can you see me? Can you feel me?” (that feels so… sad… and desperate…) and telling us things like “make sense of the consequence we witnessed on that day” (Excuse me, you're telling me that there was a consequence for something on a specific, significant day that we witnessed?? 👀) The demon, on the other hand, mostly sings when the grayscale effect is on, and seems to just be playing a stereotypical villain roll until you notice “be forced to believe what I see” (why would we even give a crap about what you're seeing /srs? How the actual heck would we see what you're seeing /gen? You don't even have eyeballs, bro /j) and “be damned in this evil received” (how do you receive evil that damns you? Maybe by being abused and becoming an abuser in response?).

Two apparently-separate characters singing with the same voice but very different tones and outlooks on the situation, still both singing to Audrey, in this one. One mostly sings in the default sepiatone, again, at first seeming more hopeful, helpful, and friendly until you start noticing ominous comments like “you've made mistakes, accept the change. You will be punished too” (*incoherent noises* 🚨🚨) and “welcome to my dream . . . you still think you are safe in my dream.” The other mostly sings when the grayscale effect is on, again, and seems much more aggressive and seductive until you start noticing comments like “take up your weapons, just leave my friends be” (why is this stereotypically evil-seeming character both telling us to take up weapons, not just letting us have them, and asking us to leave his friends alone with them?).

More hints that the demon who will rise and presumably is most important to the story is linked to grayscale, in this one.

And, in this one, Sammy's asking if the grayscale-linked demon is the one who will set him free (as he claims to be in the first two videos).

Across all four of these first videos, there seems to be an overall “things change when we switch from the default sepiatone to grayscale” and “grayscale is dangerous and seems hopeless but it's important and linked to truth and freedom” theme…

…You're telling me that Sammy and his followers' past (BATIM?) selves were worshipping an imposter demon…? And the truth will be revealed in BATDR…?

Hum, hum, hum… fascinating. I'd noticed the sepiatone vs. grayscale split and imposter vs. true savior thing long before I read the books; for the longest time, I thought it meant we would be dealing with a Henry-Bendy and a Joey-Bendy, as I've been seeing people theorizing. But then I read TIOL, and discovered what I think is evidence that this info is indeed canon and was not left on the cutting room floor while BATDR was in development limbo.

Nathan makes a very strange note on Joey's story about the Sparkle Unicorn speakeasy…

“…I remember this night well. Though I remember it being at the Bee Room, gold and black, not silver as the main design aesthetic. Doesn't really make much of a difference though, I suppose.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 44 (emphasis added)

Nathan remembers that night in sepiatone, Joey remembers it in grayscale.

Now, I've seen all kinds of theories all over about how Wilson actually “banished/killed the ink demon…” “Wilson took advantage of some sort of blip in Bendy's existence that happened when Joey died,” “Wilson got rid of him by purifying him and turning him into Dapper Bendy,” “Wilson got rid of him by fusing him with either Henry or Joey,” “Wilson got rid of him by trapping him in Henry's loop,” “he didn't, Wilson's just another liar manipulating everyone,” etc…

What if we're looking at this from the wrong angle? What if the point is that, whatever happened, neither of the BATDR Bendys is the original soulless monster we see in BATIM and the books? What if, whether they share a body or are separate, there are two human souls involved here? What if one of those souls is the “new evil” in the ink dimension, not Wilson, who may have been meddling in ink dimension affairs since 1963?

Going back to the time frame I propose BATDR is happening in… Joey was born in 1901, which means that if Nathan was 18 or 19 when Joey was just turning 16, then he was born in 1899 or 1898. So, in 1978, Nathan would've been 79 or 80, and in 1991 he would've been 92 or 93. Especially considering the clues that point towards Nathan having been a smoker, it wouldn't surprise me if he's straight-up already dead in BATDR. Mayhaps for 211 days? During Loop 414…? Could this be why the BATIM loop is different, with Henry apparently not remembering anything that previous versions of himself could? The now-previous owner of their prison has died of old age and/or lung cancer? And could that be why the JDS museum has fallen into bankruptcy? Has Nathan Jr. taken over and isn't as ruthless a businessman as his father?

Itsjustjord on YouTube pointed this out in his trailer reaction, which when he said it set my Clue Radar off so that I went to the trailer again to get a closer look. And… well… *clears throat*

…Do y'all see this weird effect over Dapper Bendy? Compared to every other character we see in the trailer as well as the environment around him, does it not look as if we're seeing him, specifically, through some sort of cartoony filter? Maybe it'll only be in circumstances like this (far away in weird lighting) that the edges of the illusion will fray in-game, based on the other teaser image we have of him, but it definitely looks off to me.

Especially with what I now suspect Allison and Susie's situations were in relation to Nathan, I think that the ink creatures’ perfection vs. imperfection has nothing to do with how pure/good vs. impure/evil their hearts are as we've been lead to believe/is the conventional surface-level reading, but instead how intact vs. broken their hearts are. I think that the more horrific the ink being's appearance, the more the soul inside was abused while it was alive. Allison isn't a perfect Alice because she's a better person, it's because she obeyed Nathan and wasn't made to suffer as severely as Susie, who Nathan chose to be his next Isabel. So, why is one new Bendy (apparently created after Joey lost everything, I suspect even being made to watch his Shoulder Angel's murder before being murdered himself) so much scarier than the original (created before Joey lost everything) and the other so goshdarn perfect, proportions and all?

Maybe the banning of everything related to Sammy's demon cult and Henry under Wilson's rule has to do with his decades-old mission to keep the Creators from joining forces, as well as everyone including himself feeling like they're finally free from The Great Puppet Master?

I love Dapper Bendy's design as much as everyone else!! He's positively adorable, and it would also be a nice outcome if the baby boy is exactly what he seems and just a precious lil friend to love forever; but I theorize that Dapper Bendy is the perfectly sane, untraumatized, and truly evil one, that (assuming we actually get choices in BATDR, unlike in BATIM) his route, no matter how things seem in the moment, is the wrong one, that he's Nathan. And I think Freaky Teeth Bendy (that's been my nickname for him since we first saw him and I'm sticking to it lolol) is the damaged as heck but able to be saved one, that his route is the correct one, that he's Joey. I also think that we won't get to see either demon for what they really are – won't be able to get the True, Broken Cycle, “Joey's Redeemed & Nathan Faces Justice” Ending – unless we somehow unlock Grayscale Mode like we could in BATIM and gain the ability to see Joey's truth. Until then, we'll be seeing the demons the way Nathan wants us to see them. Through Nathan's tainted, gaslighting, sepiatone filter.

If I'm right, the fact that they did choose these color palettes is so perfectly poetic~! Sepiatone is what happens when black-and-white images have been chemically altered for preservation purposes; Nathan's altered our perception of himself, Joey, and all the events surrounding them, and his version of events is much more resilient. Meanwhile, Joey's would be more pure and unaltered but easily destroyed— including by himself, with his Illusion of Living coping mechanism… The only thing that could make it more perfect is if not only do we get to see Henry in BATDR, but when we do he's an angelic toon… *Vibrates with excitement*

Please, please, please, JDS, let me be right about where you're going with this!! Cause this would genuinely be so freaking cool…!! 🙏🏻 I hope that we eventually get to “rejoice with our founders,” as Artistic Hallowing says, when they're reunited.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk, rofl. Congratulations on making it through the ramblings of a hyped AuDHD fangirl (though, I guess we already knew you were capable, if you've read TIOL. I could do a whole nother rant on evidence that Joey's basically confirmed canonically ADHD(+?), my freaking gosh). 😝

Read the Rest of the Original Analysis/Theory: Part One • Part Two • Unexpected Part Four

BATDR Analysis/Post-Playthrough Theory Revision: Part One • Part Two • Part Three • Part Four

[agendabymooner]

odds || pg10 fic

“I’m never giving up against all odds.”

pierre gasly x ofc (88rising!singer!ofc)

EXTENSION TO NEWSFLASH (SEQUEL OF) AND LOWKEY (PREQUEL OF)

Summary: Her songs told a story about how her courtship with Pierre Gasly went and ended in a happy note. OR their timing wasn't always right— that was what she thought as she continued to think that their situationship’s downfall would happen sooner or later. 

Content warning: Based on Niki’s EP, wanna take this downtown. No specific date is used for the release of her music. Use of explicit language, situationship scenarios, miscommunication, OFC being set up, Pierre being a dry texter, only uses a partner’s name (nothing too personal- just a passing comment), a bit angst but has a happy ending (?), indented texts are lyrics

Note: I’m not sure if my taglist would like to read this but I’m adding them into the list just in case :)) enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

This has got to be a joke. The universe fuckin’ hates my guts.  Remindin’ me ‘U’ and ‘I’ don’t spell ‘us.’

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Heeeey!!! My brain is soooo fried today and Brian decided to fuck up my computer. Now I’m just here doing nothing but hope that my dear tech works in the next hour. Sent at 10:21 PM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): How r u??? I hope you’re not training too hard and you’re hydrating :) Sent at 10:25 PM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Good morning, Ens. Have 2 train sadly ttyl ;) Sent at 8:31 AM

Well wasn’t that fucking sad, Ensley huffed out quietly to herself as she wished to throw her phone against the wall. They’ve been in what… two dates?

Well, two in-person dates and three unofficial FaceTime dates with shitty takeouts in front of them. Not that she counted; she could have sworn she did not like him that much. 

She wasn’t sure who she was lying to more, though. But just as she continued to deny that she hadn’t looked at her phone every thirty seconds, she was feeling more pathetic. 

What was it about men and why did she continue to give them all a chance? All they do was fuck it up and Ensley was going insane at the thought that the cycle of being with the shittiest men ever wasn’t broken. 

“All I know is suddenly without you, the bed feels too big… That’s good. Good job Henny.”

“Trying to find where your head is but I’m losing myself in the process— no wait, tryna,” she muttered to herself before scratching out the first word of her chorus. 

She thought that songwriting was a way to distract herself from the Pierre fiasco. Everyone said so, as well. They thought that if she kept her head straight she’d be able to think of inspiration and clearly they were right. 

Her friends, Brian and Joji, were laughing at the fact that the said inspiration was the same person they tried to distract her from. 

Pierre Gasly. The man who continued to travel as the Formula One season went on while Ensley remained in Los Angeles. Pierre was the man that the Indonesian woman had been thinking about day after day, his charming personality filling that empty space in her head after he asked if she’d be more than willing to take their relationship to the next level. 

He did warn her about his busy schedule, which Ensley was grateful for. What he hadn’t told her, though, was that he’d eventually drive her insane because of the lack of texts he’d send as time went on— all thanks to his schedule. 

The first month of their situationship was great. He managed to call her and asked if she had supper or whatever meal it was she had to eat in her time zone. He’d often eat his food just as she’d munch on whatever she had that day— sharing conversations while they took a break from whatever the fuck they were doing. 

Hell, Ensley also managed to take the international railways to Rome to meet with him. They were getting along so well that she cuddled with him in his bed twice. 

But in the second month? Fuck, she wasn’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was because it’s the last month of the racing season and everybody’s scrambling to make their way up to the World Driver’s Championship rankings— that included the Frenchman. 

She could understand how busy it is for Pierre and she did what she could to not hover around him. But she was missing him terribly— him and his sex jokes and his never ending storytelling. What could she do? Nothing. She didn’t have any form of label but a situationship with him. 

“You come see me only when I ask first. When you kiss me— do you wish it were her?” 

“—That’s bullshit,” Brian exclaimed as he stood by the oven of Ensley’s open kitchen. Ensley glared at him, and her friend (Brian’s girlfriend) Vanntey smacked him lightly as a warning. Brian gave his girlfriend a questioning look and stated, “Boy Baguette didn’t even kiss her yet! Henny, don’t put that in if this song is about Pierre. That’s just full on delusional.”

“Who says it’s about him?” Vanntey asked with a scoff before telling Ensley, “Henny— your song, not Brian’s. Do whatever the hell you want.”

“At least someone’s sensible enough,” Ensley murmured before turning back to her notepad. Her Twitter notification, one that she intentionally left opened, made a noise as she glanced down at the “related tweet” notification. The post and the responses that came with it were… baffling to say the least.

We share different postal codes Maybe that’s why I never got the memo; She’s the real deal, and I was just a pretty demo.

ensleygaslysoz: y’all— pierre’s ex was at the paddock today 😭😭

peargaslit: nooooo~ YOU CANNOT SAY THAT!!! IM ROOTING FOR HIM AND HENNY!!! 

misskikagasly: ok but they were cute as hell b4 tho 🫠 no h8 to ensley but kika was the shit and i think they should get back together

Ensley’s shoulders slumped at the comments. God’s timing was always wrong, and she’s never hated anything more than the fact that she was actually besotted and in love with Pierre Gasly.

And chances are that he was just waffling about taking their relationship to another level. Men lied to Ensley endlessly, and if she didn’t know any better— she would’ve fallen harder than she did with him. 

And yet my world remains the whole of you to this day. Doesn’t matter what my location says. I’m always tryna get to you.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you going to be in London sometime soon? I will be back in Milan and I’d like to stay in with you :) Text me when you get this Sent at 12:31 AM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Can’t. Sorry— Still in the process of producing an EP :) looking forward to chatting soon Sent at 12:32 AM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Likewise. Sent at 2:01 AM

When I'm there, you're not You're here, I'm caught up with my job And your clingy ex comes back a lot Then she leaves and you shoot your shot  But there's someone new I've got

The 88rising studio was where she stayed most of the time now. With the record label releasing an album with their artists, Ensley’s time was taken up by her work as she continued to produce four songs with them. 

That and her own EP took up her entire schedule, thus furthering her communication line with the Alpine driver. 

So much for a good situationship. 

“You wrote this song, Hen,” Isaac — one of the songwriters — told her with a shrug, “he lives in Milan, right? Instead of, I mean, Manhattan’s nice, why don’t you put, Milan is nice?” 

“They have good sunsets in NY,” she murmured quietly. “Look— let’s not talk about him. He’s got his business— this is mine.”

“Your EP so far shows that you’re writing about him,” Isaac replied. “By the way, you’ve got one more to write if you want to have four tracks.” 

“Eventually,” Ensley responded with a wave, her shoulders sagging before her sight moved from the screen of her laptop to the door that swung open. 

Brian walked in with a shit-eating grin, he was followed by Jackson Wang who carried, Ensley could’ve sworn, the biggest bouquet that could’ve ever existed. And just as Jackson walked towards her with a huge smile, her eyes scanned the set and the white card that contrasted with it. 

Dahlias and daisies. She never even mentioned it to anyone before.

Then she remembered a conversation she had about flower markets. She loved Los Angeles, but she couldn’t help but swoon over those Pinterest boards full of flower markets in Italy. 

She tried to romanticize her life in the UK before, but when she flew out to Milan once to see the beauty of it? Nothing could compare to Italy. She remembered telling Pierre that— how she’d kill to have the prettiest flowers in her flat that came straight from the market. 

“What kind of flowers do you like, then?” Pierre asked, amused at the sight of her swooning as she continued to squeal at the photo. 

“If I were to get my photos taken like this? Ugh,” Ensley grinned from ear to ear, “daisies? There’s just something about daisies that makes me think of I dunno… summer? I love the sun— I’m sure you can understand that. You live in Milan.”

“I do.”

“And what else? Huh… Dahlia!” Ensley exclaimed. “It’s just a nice name, no?” 

“I agree,” Pierre said thoughtfully before repeating the word, “dahlia, dahlia, dahlia… It’s a pretty name, indeed.” 

À la plus jolie fille, was intricately written on the envelope as her stomach fluttered at the name. He always called her that for whatever reason, and she eventually learned why. 

“Pretty girl,” Ensley translated the writing as she thanked Jackson, holding the bouquet before placing it down on the table. Her hand eventually grabbed onto the card and pulled out the letter. She didn’t care about her friends as they watched her expectantly. 

Her eyes remained on the letter. 

“My Collette,

This is not bought to make up for my absence, but to remind you that you are as cherished as the bright flowers in this bouquet. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, ma jolie fille.

While I cannot speak to you, I’ll continue to think about you.

XO,

Your Linguini.”

“Your— your Linguini?!” Jackson gasped from behind her, making her turn around as she watched Brian wheeze in laughter. 

The glare that she gave the two left Jackson to shut his mouth and Brian to continue his teasing. Regardless of what the singer just watched, Jackson shook himself out of his thoughts and asked, “Are you gonna text him?” 

But she already did. Long before Jackson could even comment. 

Her eyes scanned on the text message she sent Pierre, knowing full well that he wouldn’t text back a minute or so later.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): They’re the prettiest. Thank you, Remy ❤️ Sent at 3:21 PM.

'Cause I know you've got somebody My friends say I could have anybody now that I'm somebody But I don't care if I'm nobody to you, oh

She sighed, not knowing if it was out of contention or sadness. All she was getting from him so far was mixed messages, with him having his ex in the paddock and sending the flowers.

He seemed to be happy to be around his ex, and she was still nobody to him but some person he wasn’t really in a relationship with. 

Maybe she should try to shift her attention away from him. Maybe she wouldn’t think a lot about him that way. 

And that was what she did. She stayed in London for a week or so after her other single with 88rising, La La Lost You, was released. She hung out with Will Lenney and his mates. 

She found herself sitting between Harry Lewis (or Wroetoshaw for those he didn’t know well) and Becky James. Harry was newly single and everyone tried to set him up with anyone with a pair of boobs; Ensley was sadly the newest target of their interest. 

But between the two of them, Ensley and Harry’s “not so friendly” interactions were nothing but banters. They wouldn’t hesitate to tell each other that they’d kiss each other on the mouth but they wouldn’t dare let their jokes go as far as touching each other with a ten-foot pole.

Regardless, everyone tried to root for them and getting too drunk meant trouble. Everyone saw what they wanted to see, immediately pulling their phones out to make a post or more about the two as Ensley and Harry cuddled up in the booth. 

“Why do you let the bloody idiot win, Ens?” Harry whined against the ear of the singer, ranting about Pierre as the Guernsey man continued, “I saw the tweets you know? You’re as much of a somebody as he is— don’t let the bloody cunt ruin your life.” 

“Too late, Harold,” Ensley slurred, sipping on her third sangria of the night. She and Harry didn’t even notice Becky nor their other friend Callum recording their interaction in the background, for the two of them were busy bitching to each other. “He’s ruined me- as in ruined me the moment I went to the bloody Grand Prix in Singapore. In a good way though!” 

“Ruin you in a good way,” Harry scoffed, his hand rubbing her back for comfort as he continued, “You’re writing about him. Your fuckin’ EP is all about him— it’s only reserved for those bastards who broke your heart obviously he’s one of them!” 

“No, they’re really not,” Ensley snorted, “my songs are not all about heartbreak nor friends with benefits I fall in love with.”

“Then name one song about loving then.” 

I know it's pathetic but I couldn't care less I'd wait until the stars uncross and say yes I'll always try to get you

Silence.

Harry’s drunken state continued to be a factor in his calling out as he raised a brow, “See? You’re a bad fucking liar, Ensley. You love him and you’re yearning— I can see it on your bloody face. So now you’re writing about how much he’s letting you down.”

She pouted in annoyance and slumped against his chest. Pierre didn’t even know how much she yearned for him. At the wrong time, while you’re at it. But she didn’t care. 

It’s been nearly a week since they last spoke, and their messages consist of nothing but dry responses and simple check-ins. Was it to ensure that the hope for a successful relationship remains intact or to actually make sure that they still had each other to talk to and that they hadn’t gone and talked to other people? Ensley wasn’t sure. 

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): What are we? Like… really?

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Whatever you would like us to be. And hello too?

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hi. And really? We kept on saying that we’d be making plans but they never happened. It’s like I dunno. We’re avoiding each other because we’re always busy. 

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I know I have to make the effort to come by sometimes, but then… How would you even the odds? I really don’t make an excuse when it comes to heading to London just to take the railways and see you.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I’m not even mad. I’m just saying that my time and heart are yours should they be available. Break my heart as much as you’d like but try to even out these odds— without girls trying to waste your time and mine.

The next day she had woken up with an infuriating headache. Thanks to the sangrias she had and Sambuca shots she was handed, she wasn’t able to get in touch with Pierre as early as she could.

She could, however, strangle Will and the rest of their group for posting those cutesy pictures of herself and Harry while the pair were chatting shit about whatever. Everyone now thought that they were seeing each other. 

“WroetoSoleil? Harry, I'm begging you to bag her already!!!” Said one tweet. 

“This is a sign that the friends-to-lovers trope is real.” 

“Pierre, where you at? Ensley’s being won over by W2S now!” 

“I still have some faith in Pierre and Ensley, tbh.” 

And to be honest, Ensley was still faithful to the two of them too. It’s only a matter of time before she begins to shift to someone else if neither of them makes a move. 

Well… she already made hers. It was his game to play now.

She tried to get on with her day after getting too drunk with her friend’s mates. Her flat in London was surprisingly less than dusty despite being untouched for a while. She supposed that’s what happened when she allowed Will and the other lots to occupy her place whilst she lived in LA. 

Then her attention diverted to her notes, writing down lyrics as she sipped on her homemade tea. 

She hadn’t even realized that she had Pierre muted — out of annoyance — until her phone began to go off. She peered down only to see an unknown number FaceTiming her. 

But it said Monaco at the bottom of the number. She could assume that…

“W- oi! Hello!” 

Never in my damn favour I don’t want you for later Never was much of a waiter.

She was right. It was Lando and a certain Monegasque. This number was Charles Leclerc’s and she was subjected to some bullshit that they were up to. 

“I’m ending the call—“

“Wait- no! Henny, don’t! We have to talk,” Charles started. They weren’t even close yet he called her Henny. Whatever he was trying to say, he was desperate to get it out before she could end her call. 

She sat her phone on the coffee table and crossed her arms, watching the two men scramble as they both sat down.

“We heard about what happened with you and Pierre,” Lando started. “Like how you two haven’t spoken properly and all that…?”

Ensley stared back at them, making the two sigh. They wouldn’t be able to get something out of her and so Charles went on, “He saw that picture and video of you and that guy… What's his name— Harry? Yeah, he saw it and he’s basically just… pouting and all that.”

“Long story short, there’s a lot of miscommunication going on between the two of you,” Lando cut off the Monegasque. “I know you’d never date Harry and we all know that Pierre’s not seeing his ex. The two of you right now are misunderstanding each other— just talk, please. Both of you are sulking and we’re all sick of you two being lovesick and shit.”

“It’s not that easy, you bastard,” Ensley swore, flipping off Lando as she grumbled, “Every time I’m available, he isn’t. Whenever I’m not, he’s coming around asking me to travel to Italy as if I have the money to travel with. I’m not as well off as you guys— and clearly, he isn’t making the same effort as me!” 

“How? He’s sent you a lot of flowers,” Charles pointed out. Ensley smothered her face in the cushion and screamed before she turned back to look at her screen with a grim smile.

“You’ve obviously no concept of making an effort without using a material, and it shows,” Ensley snarked.

“It’s just… he’s never asked me if he can stay over in my flat in London before,” she sighed, “it’s always me who has to adjust. I do appreciate it but at the same time… what about me? What if I can’t make it there and he’s still available? Will it stay like that? Just me hoping for some miracle that he’d come by? It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just tiring having to work hard only to end up with nada.” 

Lando and Charles shared a worried look. Clearly, they didn’t understand her side of the story until now. It wasn’t as if she was painted as a bad person— they genuinely didn’t know how she and Pierre spoke and how the duo treated each other. 

“I’m just so ready to say, ‘Yes, be my boyfriend like I’m begging’ but he’s not there all the time for me to answer it!” Ensley exclaimed in frustration, crossing her arms in annoyance as she slumped against the couch. 

“French boy—“

“I’m Monegasque—“

“Monaco boy, tell your best friend that he’s a piece of shit for making me feel like this—“ Ensley said. “God I just want to see him but at the same time I don’t—!”

“Why?”

“Because I know he wouldn’t even these odds no matter how much he wants to,” Ensley chuckled humourlessly. “I don’t even know if he wants to.”

But I’d wait on you to drink you in

Lando almost glanced in front of them, only nodding along at Ensley’s rants. Meanwhile, Charles stared at Pierre with a raised brow. 

The Frenchman sighed silently. 

He really didn’t want to mess this chance up, but it was too bad some things didn’t like to go in his favour.

Even the odds, indeed.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hello mon amour, are you still in London? Sent at 8:21 AM.

To Pesky Pierre: Yes… why? Sent at 8:22 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you off to somewhere else today? Sent at 8:22 AM.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I— why are you being so cryptic? But no, I’m just staying in. 8:23 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Okay. See you in half an hour :)

When I'm there you should, I don't know, like, call up your boss Probably take the day off Maybe we could change the odds!

Ensley Zara Soleil was never the one for surprises. She loathed them so bad. 

But if surprises came in the form of an Alpine driver often then she was willing to welcome it with open arms. Pierre Gasly stood in front of her flat with a bouquet of dahlias and daisies in hand, his smile brightening her day immediately as Ensley smiled like a fool. 

She’s never felt this great over a man for a long time.

“I’m here to even the odds,” Pierre told her with a grin before it fell into a serious expression as he said, “I’m really sorry if I haven’t tried to do it before. I was the one who pursued you first and I should’ve tried harder—“

“Shh…”

“Pardon?” Pierre gave Ensley a puzzled look. 

And rather than telling to shush once more, Ensley gave him a wide grin and took the bouquet from his hand. The confused look remained on Pierre’s face for a brief moment as she inhaled the scent of the flowers. 

“You’re here now, P,” Ensley told him. “I was wondering what you meant by your text but I’ve been expecting you… for a good while.”

Pierre’s confusion was replaced by a wide smile, pushing his shoulders back as he said, “So… where can I start?” 

Ensley smiled and stepped aside, allowing him to enter her flat as she said, “Come in and have a cuppa. We’ve got a lot of things to catch-up on.” 

Don't care how long it takes,  My heart is yours to break I'm never giving up against all odds

fin.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico

[charcubed]

Hi. I tend to forget that tumblr exists and just shout all my thoughts about The Winchesters on Twitter @CharCubed, which is a problem, but for once in my life I'm posting something here!

Here are some broad Thoughts on where I've landed of what this season 1 finale of The Winchesters offered–

• I very much want season 2 of this show SO badly. I want to see how they all continue to build their lives now that we know tragedy need not be their end! THIS IS THE HEALING SHOW. That whole cast gets to write their own story... "the only thing that's worse than how it starts for a hunter is how it ends" is no longer the case, as Carlos already said... and Dean helped to free them? That fucks.

• In regards to those possibilities: now that Dean would no longer be framing the prequel as a story he's telling, it frees the prequel up to no longer be doubling as Dean's story through revealing mirroring–which is very much what it's been doing for 12 episodes. Now the monster plots and the storylines for those characters in The Winchesters can also be diversified, so every episode no longer has to include, for example... [checks notes] a situation where a character is literally and/or metaphorically trapped and has to confront their trauma, break cycles of violence, and speak truths to be freed. It's been very Loud and very much Like This Constantly because it's Dean's story, but now it won't have to be anymore, which is an interesting thing to contemplate! (To be clear, for those unaware of my history of yelling about this show: I love that it was Like This. This show is fucking genius.)

• Initially, this finale had some alarm bells pinging in my brain but then I parsed the Reasons for those things. Mary told John she had "Something to say," right? And then she never says it. That's a Chekhov's gun that's never fired and it's of course paralleling how Dean has "something to say" to Cas too. Them not speaking that truth is a problem. In addition, we also got a montage eerily akin to the 15x19 one. But these callbacks / parallels to s15 all loudly indicate something very specific: The Winchesters is an unfinished story, and this finale (like the rest of this show) is mirroring and revealing truths about the prime narrative of SPN. For one thing, with the prequel they originally expected to have 22 or so episodes and ended up having 13 to work with. For another... this is the START of their story, not the end. So along those lines, what can we deduce about the end of season 15? (Hint: that finale is not an ending either.)

• Speaking of which: We learn that everything Dean was just doing takes place in the ~heavenly~ time period before Sam “dies." This all functionally happened right after Dean died as he drove down that road. He is restless, unmoored, grieving, and–this is key–considers his "ending" to be an unhappy happy one. He's fucking around and finding out, looking for and unpacking (through his narration) what he needs and wants for HIS happy ending to look like. He found out about the Akrida being a failsafe from Chuck and couldn't resist meddling to save everyone. It's also worth noting that Dean says to Jack something like, "If you have to kick me out of Heaven then that's fine." Between the lines is the thought of "please kick me out of Heaven, I'm causing problems because I'm grieving and I'm not done, I don't want this 'peace' but would rather have freedom." That in itself is a massive subversion of the SPN finale, to say nothing of the previous 12 episodes we've received.

Anyway. So in terms of Dean's story, we now know that this all takes place smack in the middle of 15x20 timeline-wise. This checks out because Bobby's presence connects to him being the only one we saw in 15x20. And... what I personally consider to be Jack's incredibly fucked up or ~potentially taken over by Chuck~ vibes are, in that sense, consistent with 15x19 as well. (I'm so sorry but please let me drop this cursed "Alex Calvert playing Chuck" joke by Jensen from August 2022 which haunts me.)

So: nothing about the concept that @chuckwon at the end of season 15 has been confirmed or denied in canon at this point. The idea that Chuck LOST, as Dean says here, is simply what Dean may still be thinking (which makes sense). But nothing has fundamentally changed about the state of how season 15 left things in the prime narrative yet... largely because that's not what this story is / was about.

In terms of what this finale presented to us, I think "Chuck won" potential was all deliberately left open. And I continue to Call Bullshit on the finale accordingly. A Chuck won plot line COULD be used in a future sequel to great affect, or it could NOT be used in a future sequel. That will be totally up to the future authors / team behind that potential sequel to see what story they choose to tell, and where it all may or may not go. But until then (on that front) right now it's the same shit, different show, and deliberately literally nothing about that potential has changed.

• I LOVE all of the above now that I've parsed it all in my brain. It makes perfect sense. Much like we were never going see the gay angel pop up in this show and kiss Dean (with apologies to anyone who somehow thought otherwise?)... leaving other things open like this is fantastic and the objectively correct call. Dean's story is HIS story to be furthered elsewhere, whereas this show belonged and continues to belong to its cast of characters who must take center stage. But through this story within a story narrated by Dean himself, we learned a hell of a lot about his state of mind as it actively stands in 15x20. Or more accurately: the entire show reinforces and reiterates comprehensively and repeatedly that the SPN finale was wrong and bad and not the end of the story at all, and now canonically and openly and in no uncertain terms that that's how Dean feels too.

• AND THUS: season 1 of The Winchesters works as deeply clever and layered commentary on Supernatural's ending and presents the stepping stone for a sequel continuation for Dean and his family. It's also the beginning of a new chapter with endless potential for The Winchesters' cast of characters who are not tied to fate or main timeline.

I fucking love it here.

Truly, madly, deeply: ALL HAIL ROBBIE THOMPSON.

And seriously, I really hope we get a season 2 because I adore all of the prequel's characters on their own merit and I want to see what their story can become :')

[justathoughtfulangel]

Nothing But The Truth ~ Kai Parker One Shot

*not my gif

Pairing: siphon!Kai X witch!Saltzman!Reader

Word Count: 3,388

Requested?: Yes

This is a sequel to "I'd Rather You Lie." I've done my best to make sure this piece is readable as a one shot, but if you'd like to read the prequel, please read it here.

This IS a reader insert fic; I just don’t like writing with Y/N in the place of names. Use Rosalie/Rosie/Rose as a placeholder for Y/N :)

Description: Kai betrayed her trust, used her for his own selfish means. Now, he can't bear the pain and hurt he's caused her. Malachai understands now that he loves her, but is love enough to mend a broken heart?

Warnings: angst/heartbreak and minor mature language

The story begins after the break! I hope you enjoy reading it :)

“I’d rather you lie.” 

It was easier for Rosalie when he lied. It had been easier to believe it was real. Now, she’d heard the lies so often she couldn’t possibly know what was true anymore. Kai’s ramblings came to a halt. Rose’s smile was more akin to a grimace. There were no tears in her eyes; there was nothing in her eyes as if there was no soul behind them.

Malachai had hurt many people in his life. He’d murdered his siblings, and he’d spent years torturing himself. Somehow, this emptiness in her was worse than all the damage he’d done combined. “Rosalie…” She just shook her head, walking passed him. There was still no emotion on her face as she hugged her winter jacket around her body. Kai watched her walk away, feeling the snow settle in his hair. The cold did not compare to all the pain that consumed him. 

He tried to take a shaky breath. With a choked gasp and unbearable pain in his heart, Malachai watched her until she became a speck of dust in the distance. The worst part of it all? She didn’t turn to look back at him once.

~

Was it his fault for breaking her heart, or was it hers for allowing him to hold it in the first place? Her brain and heart grappled over this question every night, making it impossible to sleep. Thanks to Kai, she couldn’t return to the life she’d once loved. There was nothing left inside her that would allow her to love. 

It wasn’t as if Rose was a stranger to pain. She’d been abandoned by people before. The people who brought her into the world had died. The ones who adopted her into their home as a child saw her as only a paycheck. Even Alaric was dead for a few years before miraculously coming alive again. None of those heartaches had destroyed her in the same way Malachai had.

Perhaps it was because it was her first time truly being in love. She couldn’t feel anything anymore, not even anger. Though her mind and heart disagreed on whose fault it was, they both knew feeling the agony of that betrayal would consume her.

For now, all she could do was continue existing in an endless cycle – school, work, Dad, friends, eat, sleep, repeat. ~

A new semester was starting after winter break, and Rosalie considered it a fresh start. She would put herself out there again; she’d try to come back to life. Rose was sitting in a large lecture hall, waiting for the professor of her creative writing course to arrive. She twirled her stylus around her fingers, making random doodles on her iPad. Someone sat down a few seats away from her, but she paid them no mind. 

The hall continued to fill, and Professor Smith arrived ten minutes late. She was fun, and her quippy nature made up for the tardiness. Listening to a professor review a syllabus wasn’t boring for once. Rosalie was paying close attention, jotting down miscellaneous notes about due dates and assignment details. 

“Your final paper, worth 30% of your grade, will be a writing piece: eight to ten pages long with attention to all topics and techniques we’ll review throughout the semester. Students who do best on this assignment never fail to present their learnings in a unique, refreshing way. Nothing should limit your imagination. Isn’t that right, boy who can’t stop staring at the girl in his row?”  Rose was looking at the professor when she singled out the student not listening. As did the other students, she, too, looked around to see who the professor was scolding. Her grip slackened on her stylus as she heard his voice a few feet away. She would know that voice anywhere. “Y-yes, Professor. I’m sorry.” The professor nodded and continued. Malachai stole one more glance in her direction when the professor’s back was turned, and his eyes met Rosalie’s after weeks of not seeing each other.

~

Before he could talk to her, Rose rushed out of the lecture hall. Was he stalking her now? Swallowing away the bitter taste in her mouth, Rosalie instinctively made her way to her dad’s office. Glancing at the time, she knew Alaric was giving a lecture. Unlocking the door with magic and locking it behind her, Rose collapsed onto the couch. Her head fell into her hands, and her foot tapped against the ground anxiously. 

Rosalie hadn’t yet asked her dad for Kai’s true story. She didn’t want to know it anymore; she told herself she didn’t care about him and whatever was causing him pain. Whether she would admit it or not, Rosalie was lying to herself, just as Kai had lied to her for weeks. 

She stayed in the same spot for hours, finally looking up when she heard the door unlock. Alaric smiled at his daughter, unsurprised to find her here. This was a first-day-of-the-semester tradition for them – tea in his office and unpacking what happened in their new classes. Ric turned on the hot water kettle, pulling out mugs and tea for them. He only noted her troubles when she greeted him without energy, and his smile faded quickly. “Rosalie? What’s the matter?” 

Rose sighed deeply, not knowing where to start. “I need you to tell me everything about Kai, Dad. Please.” The turmoil had been suppressed long enough; she bit the bullet and watched Ric’s expression twitch. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Hot water and honey were poured into their mugs. Rose kicked her shoes off, curled her legs under her, and claimed the steaming cup of tea. The silence was broken only when Alaric sat beside her on the couch.

He was torn about how much he should involve her but hiding the truth from Rose allowed Kai to hurt her. Ric wouldn’t hide things from her anymore. “Malachai is Josette’s twin brother.” A confused expression came over Rose’s face immediately. “Jo is in her early 40s. How is that possible?” To his credit, Alaric told her everything without biased embellishments, telling her the story exactly as Jo told him. 

Of course, even he didn’t know the story from Malachai’s perspective. 

He told her about how Kai was meant to merge with Jo and become the leader of the Gemini coven, how he was never worthy of the position. When he found out the thing he lusted after for twenty-two years would never be his, Kai snapped, murdering four of his little siblings in cold blood. Kai stuck a hunting knife into Josette and took out her spleen. Ultimately, he was after Lucas and Olivia. The Coven locked him up in a prison world, and he escaped when Bonnie and Damon ended up there after the Other Side collapsed.

Rosalie listened to everything, finding it impossible to believe that the guy she knew – the guy she thought she knew – was capable of all of this. Even as she left her dad’s office, Rose repeated the story in her mind. There had to be more to this story. No one was born evil. Something must have happened to Kai - something so horrible and cruel that his only choice was to protect himself this way. 

Alaric had heard the story from Jo, but he hadn’t seen the tears Kai shed when no one was around to see them. Whatever caused him to snap tormented him even now, and no one should live that way. Despite this, Rosalie didn’t have it in her to forgive him. Maybe it was selfish, but he’d used someone who trusted him for reasons she could barely justify. 

The door to her apartment closed behind her. Trying to push the thoughts away, Rose walked over to her fridge. She pulled it open, and the wave of cool air sent her mind reeling back…

Even on the drive back to Mystic Falls, her thoughts were consumed with Kai. He’d kissed her, and then he disappeared. What kind of decent person does that? Rosalie had begun to think that maybe she didn’t know Malachai at all. Her thoughts would be proven right a few minutes later.  When Rose entered the Salvatore House, she heard the flames of the fireplace crackling and voices coming from the living room. “How do you know my daughter?” Her dad was threatening someone, holding them by their neck as he tilted the chair towards the fireplace. Damon forced him away, trying to calm Alaric down. “Easy, Papa Bear. Kai’s going to cooperate. Talk. Now.”  Kai? Her Kai? No… “Didn’t you know? I’ve been dating her for a while. Here I thought she told you everything, Alaric. Of course, she thinks it’s real, which is sweet, really. At least someone among us has a heart.”  Kai kept on talking, but she heard none of it. It was as if her senses had been disconnected from her brain. “She’s just so welcoming… it was so easy to step into her life. I could get into all of yours and take what I’ve always wanted. But you really didn’t need to torture me to get that out of me, did you? I think I’m an excellent communicator.”  Damon and her dad had already seen Rose standing there, and when Damon forced Kai’s chair around, she registered the briefest flicker of remorse in his eyes. She didn’t have it in her to care, not right now. All she did was turn around and leave. The air outside felt so much colder than she could bear. It bit her cheeks as tears filled her eyes. Rosalie refused to let them fall. She would not cry over someone who was using her.

The tears that had refused to spill all those months ago came bubbling to the surface. Her knees buckled below her, and her hands rushed to cover her mouth as a pained scream came out. All the agony at his betrayal created burning trails on her cheeks, and as she curled up on the ground, her shoulders shook with each sob. 

Rosalie finally let herself admit that she had loved Malachai: she probably still did. She’d put her heart into someone’s hands for the first time and this was what she earned in return. Nothing in her life felt fair. How many more people would hurt her before she could finally be free? 

The anguish she’d failed to acknowledge and process now took over. It subsided hours later when the chill from the open fridge had coated her spine and the door beeped in protest. Rose gave it a weak push and it creaked shut. 

She’d loved him, and now she didn’t think she could love anymore.

~

Caroline smacked a piece of paper down on the table in front of Rosalie. “The annual Whitmore Bitter Ball is on Saturday, and you’re coming.” Rose picked up the flyer, smiling without amusement at the clashing black and grey letters. “Come onnnn, you’re the one that’s most bitter in love out of any of us.” 

Elena and Bonnie gave Caroline a withering stare, while Rose just shook her head. “Sorry… insensitive.” She cleared her throat, trying to dispel the awkwardness. “You should come, Rosalie. We all deserve a night out.” Elena was gently encouraging in stark contrast to Caroline. Rose didn’t know how she felt about it. “Okay, dance or no dance, at least come dress shopping with us? We need your opinions.” Truthfully, it sounded dreadful. After a long blink, Rosalie smiled and agreed. “Fine. It’ll be just like high school.” It wouldn’t be for her; it would be for her friends.

A few hours later, Rosalie was walking between aisles upon aisles of dresses. Some were gaudy and drew way too much attention. Some were too plain for a ball. Then again, maybe plain was best – something that could help her hide in the shadows as she attended the dance for the sake of her worried friends. 

Rose ultimately chose a silken, black gown. It had an attractive sweetheart neckline and golden embellishments around the waist. The skirt didn’t puff out obnoxiously, and with a golden mask to abide by the masquerade policy, it was the perfect disguise.

~

On Saturday evening, Rosalie found herself standing in the corner of the grand ballroom. People were all over the place: some drunk, some dancing, some crying, and some doing all of the above. Rose watched people move about behind her mask, twirling the straw around in her gin and soda with extra limes. She’d promised Caroline she’d stay out for an hour, and thankfully, the hour was almost up. 

Downing her drink, Rosalie walked across the dance floor. She had managed to artfully avoid the masses until she reached the bar. The glass clinked down onto the granite counter, right beside someone also attending this ball alone. He turned around slowly, setting down his own glass. They looked at each other silently for a few heavy seconds, neither saying a word. 

Malachai’s eyes shined in the dim lighting of the ballroom, swimming with numerous feelings yet glistening with the joy of seeing her. Rosalie’s expression remained passive, unreadable. She’d cried her heart out already. What was the next step in the process of healing from heartbreak? 

“I don’t know how a ball for the brokenhearted could be such a hit,” Kai said. Rose smiled without amusement, looking around at the crowd once again. “You never know, maybe lots of people have broken hearts around here.” Malachai swallowed away the knot of emotion in his throat, his eyes darting to the dance floor. “Maybe you’re right.”

He refused to meet her eyes, and it sparked something inside her. It was some convoluted mixture of rage, pain, desperation, and, most unexpectedly, a tinge of hope. “Dance with me?” She held out her hand to him in challenge. Kai’s gaze flit between her hand, the dancing couples, and the gleam in her eyes. Whatever brought it back, he’d missed it dearly. He took her hand, leading her to join the crowds. 

Rose let out a soft laugh at the song change, wondering if Caroline had something to do with the music. War of Hearts played over the speakers as Kai’s hand came to rest on her waist. Their fingers linked together, and this time, everything else fell away. 

Come to me in the night hours. I will wait for you.

Both recalled the same memories as they stepped in unison. Their awkward first interaction in the coffee shop. The first date where Kai was trying to be charming but ended up spilling soda all over his shirt. His tears when the thoughts of his past tormented him. The devastation they both felt when Rosalie found out about Malachai’s betrayal. 

“Have you been stalking me, by the way?” Kai almost smiled, his brow rising. “Would you believe me if I said I had no idea you’d be in the same section?” He twirled her around, pulling her back to him. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m supposed to believe, Malachai.” 

She’d been the only one who could use his full first name without making him flinch. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Kai sighed, resigned with himself. “I don’t know what I can say, Rose. You have every right to not trust me. Let me just ask you one thing, and then I will leave you alone.”

I can’t help but love you, even though I try not to. I can’t help but want you. I know that I’d die without you.

“Do you honestly think I didn’t break my own heart when I broke yours?” His arms wrapped around her as Kai selfishly pulled her close. If this was the last time, he needed to hold her close. The back of his hand brushed her cheek, and he memorized the feel of her soft skin. He was close enough to see the reflection of his dark, satin mask in Rosalie’s eyes. 

Rose didn’t know how to react. Her first instinct was to say no. He had sounded so convincing when he gloated to Ric and Damon about how he used her. How could that be the voice of someone with a broken heart? That same person stood in front of her now, looking at her with deeper affection and sincerity unlike anything she’d known before. 

Rosalie held the hand brushing her cheek, wrapping her own around it before stepping away from Kai. “Malachai, I can’t do this again.” Kai had let her walk away once. He wouldn’t give up without a fight this time. “Please… I promise I won’t ever hurt you. I won’t lie to you. From now on, nothing but the truth.” 

I can’t help but be wrong in the dark, ‘cause I’m overcome in this war of hearts. I can’t help but want oceans to part, ‘cause I’m overcome in this war of hearts.

With those words, Rose threw her arms around Malachai and kissed him. Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe it was just plain stupid. It didn’t matter. Not trusting him had been so unendurably painful; even if he played her again, it would be worth it.

Kai froze in surprise for a fraction of a second, not expecting her to give him the one thing he wanted most. He took her face in his hands, suppressing a sob of relief and joy. Malachai brought her closer, hugging her flush against his body. 

People still danced around them, oblivious to the two souls who’d found each other and would never part again.

~

The end of the semester approached, faster than anticipated. Malachai and Rosalie had spent the last months together, and true to his word, he hadn’t lied to her… until tonight.

In his lonesome years in the prison world, Kai had honed his cooking and baking skills. Tonight, after a long week of finals, they were making Kai’s chocolate chip cookies – a recipe he’d refined and mastered over twelve years. Rosalie was whipping together browned butter and sugar, and Kai was chopping chunks of dark chocolate into shards with a knife. The apartment smelled like toasted sugar, and their playful banter brought them much-needed laughter. 

“Where’d you put the vanilla extract I brought over?” Rosalie was looking in Kai’s kitchen drawers, and just as she reached one near the edge of the counter, he stepped in front of her. “Not in that one! There’s nothing in that one. Let’s move on.” Why was he in such a rush to get her away from that drawer? 

“Malachai… what are you hiding from me?” He sighed and stepped aside, remembering his promise to her. Rose didn’t take her eyes off him as she opened the drawer. Looking down, she halted in shock at the only object inside: a small black jewelry box.

Kai grabbed it before she could, putting it behind her back. She gave him a look, raising her eyebrows in question. “What are you hiding from me?” She repeated her question, her voice even more pointed, now with curiosity rather than suspicion. Adorably anxious, Kai nipped at his lower lip and tugged at his hair momentarily. 

Setting the box on the kitchen counter, Kai flipped its lid. Within it, tucked into cushioned velvet, lay matching silver rings. They were similar in style to the ones Malachai often wore, the metal bands thick and fairly plain. He removed them both, showing her the inscription inside the bands: nothing but the truth.

“This isn’t a proposal. Not yet, at least.” Kai’s nervousness didn’t help him get these words out, but when he looked up, looking into her eyes, suddenly it was much easier. “I wanted us to have something that reminds us of our journey and how far we’ve come. I want us to have these.” Before he said anything more, Kai slipped his ring onto his middle finger. Rosalie accepted his gift and put on her ring. She took his hand and laced their fingers together.  “Thank you, Kai,” Rose spoke with tenderness, holding Kai’s face. “I’ll never take it off.” Their lips met in a sweet kiss, and the smooth metal of their rings clinked together quietly. They squeezed each other’s hands lovingly, now certain neither would let go.

~~~

That's all for this piece! Thank you to the anon who requested I give them a happy ending; this story would not exist without you :)

Please feel free to send any thoughts/comments/constructive criticisms my way. I always welcome them.

If you’d like to be tagged in future Kai Parker works, feel free to message me/leave a comment here. If you liked this story, feel free to check out my other stories from my Malachai Parker Masterlist (pinned to the top of my profile).

Until next time, JustAThoughtfulAngel

Master Taglist: @socio-kai-path1972, @bluelicious, @genevivetaylor, @kolsangel, @callsign-luckyshot

[101flavoursofweird]

Thinking about cycles of revenge in the prequel games again.

The Azran people refused to free the sentient golems, so the golems destroyed their civilisation. A few surviving Azrans imprisoned the golems in ice and set up their legacy knowing the golems could wipe out a future race. If whoever freed the Azran emissary viewed her more as a pawn than a person— enough to pierce her heart— then the legacy would be unleashed.

Leon and Rachel Bronev were taken by Targent and their kids were left behind.

After Rachel’s death, Bronev rose through the ranks of Targent and eventually, tried to bring his eldest son into the fold, like many archaeologists before him. When Desmond refused, his family were killed.

From then on, Descole became so determined to unlock the Azran sites before Targent that he would hurt/kidnap/manipulate other people’s families— even his own brother who stood in his way.

Of course, the people Descole used as pawns also reacted: 

Third Eye Jakes’ control over Misthallery, Oswald Whistler trying to steal others’ lives to revive his daughter, Randall terrorising Monte d’Or and his old friends…

And so on.

The cycle only stops when someone decides to break it. Luke— despite seemingly being shunned by his family and his friends— writes to Professor Layton for help. Melina— despite being given a second chance at life— hopes Professor Layton will stop her father. Angela— despite her losses and her troubled past with Layton— reaches out to him after eighteen years.

Even Desmond, on some level, realises this when he asks his brother to investigate the Azran with him. Sure, he ends up betraying Layton… but look at how well that worked out for him; he lost the Azran key to Targent and then Bronev unleashed the Azran legacy.

Aurora— despite everything the Azran did to she and her fellow golems, despite being kidnapped by Targent, despite the betrayals she faced even from her human friends— begs the light of the Azran to resurrect her friends after they sacrifice themselves.

Even if the prequel series isn’t very connected outside of the Azran sites being mentioned, I like how this cycle is felt throughout. I love how Layton— a contender for the world’s most tragic backstory, who’s suffered so much thanks to the Azran— steps in to stop it.