#Yes I have put a lot of thought into this story

[euphoria-looney]

Who Said Money Can't Buy Happiness?

"I want that new money. Crisp money, Straight-from-the-mint money. Fresh money. Young money. Push against the tide~" New Money from the Great Gatsby.

Yan?Batfam x Neglected!F!Reader

Pt. 1

Divider Creds: @selysie and @anitalenia

This plot was inspired by @niwaart and @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff

You know I've never pegged myself as the type to be too careless and get hit by a truck, because I'm not, that truck rammed into me and I was on the sidewalk, so, if I wake up, I'm suing.

That's what I thought would happen if I woke up in my world. newsflash, and spoilers, I seemed to wake up in this cliche bat family story as the neglected girl. This is actually the story "I Stole the Loving Family of the Villainess."

We follow around a girl named Serena, a cute name, by the way. It fits her as the female lead. She has blond hair and blue eyes, and multiple love interests, from Connor Kent to Wally West, and so on. She is adopted by the royal family, the Waynes.

And do you see this cute portrait with her in the middle brothers to the left, sisters to the right, parents on each side of her, oh and how can I forget even the main bulter, and can you see that small blot of paint, if you squit a little more. Ah- there I am.

That blot of paint- that's me.

While I'm monologing this I'm PUSHING SERENA DOWN THE STAIRS.

You know you can't help but feel bad for me like I'm the legitimate daughter and I get nothing.

Yes, you hear this my bitches, bros, and non-binary hoes. I'm the Villainess. If you guys spent less time fondling over the basic y/n of a female lead you realize how miserable [name] is as a character.

Her mom is too busy caring for her other siblings that she finds it too bothersome to deal with the least talented or least intelligent that goes for Alfred too because, in this story, we're royalty meaning more than one maid and butler, so why waste your time when you can have someone else do it.

Doesn't help that [name] has ears so she hears every mocking word that is uttered by her servants.

And of course, the main family does not give a pinky toe if she dies so that's so cool.

So [name] being a cliche Villainess is exactly stupid and untalented but all she wanted was her family's love and affection which is why she kept sabotaging Serena, which led her to her death.

Getting her memories suck, I mean my ego that was skyrocketing got hit with a pebble which is not a lot but that's because my ego is huge, this girl put herself down so much that I swear if her self-esteem was a rock she'd be crushed by now.

I mean the size of her self-esteem was so low it would be the opposite of my ego.

I mean how can it not be high? I'm rich, pretty, intelligent, and I've had diplomas in more than one field, Mary Sue? More like Barbie. I'm perfect, in more ways than one, except for relationships I've lacked in that department but I've never had one before so does that count? No.

Did I mention I was rich?

So anyway got her memories, it's so... tragic, but don't worry snookums because even in this life there's one defining trait that I still have, I'm rich. Okay, so not rich out of my pocket, I am a princess umkay, but I wasn't a woman in multiple men's fields for nothing.

Anyway back to the case in point, before I "woke" up [name] was having an impulse, her hands were itching to shove this one good orphaned girl that stole her place in the family, what timing do I have to come back right when [name] decided to take action on the impulse.

Hey, at least a perk of being the main character is that you don't take any damage whether that be physically inside or out. But I don't think the family will let it slide they are yanderes.

Yandere is a term for a character who is initially normal but soon develops an obsessive-compulsive grip on the person they like.

"I-I don't know one second I was walking down the stairs and the next I f-fell... but the only person behind me was [n-name]" Serena whimpered, ah- yes the struggles of a female lead the stuttering.

"[name] I can't believe you shoved Serena! This is-" Meet Palmola, my mother.

"So what?"

"Huh?" Palmola's eyes widened.

No in fact the whole family's eyes were in shock.

Since [name] would always make some batshit crazy excuse like the ghost of Grandpa pushed her or something. But why lie, I did shove her, for a good reason too.

"She walks so slow and sloppy, does she have any etiquette? I hope she would, with the amount of time she likes to spend with you Palmola. Fast, efficient, but proper. You did drill that into my head since I was young, didn't you? You even got mad when I did it wrong, is it so wrong I treat her like how I was treated?"

"Young lady-!"

"We'll discipline her later, Serena are you alright? Here take my arm sweetheart." Bruce let Serena wrap her arm around his.

The siblings paired up with each other, and Palmola took one of her son's arms. Leaving me with no one. A normal occurrence, at first it did numbers in the social circles, and still does, so each time I was left embarrassed. How annoying.

"Announcing the Imperial Family, the Gotham Empire, The Waynes."

Everyone flocked to each of the family but mainly focused their attention on Serena, whether it be her face, jewelry, dress, or how sweet she was compared to me.

"Announcing the Imperial Family, the Metro Empire, The Kents." Meet two of the love interests that right she goes for the big brother and the little brother, originally I'm engaged to Connor, but tonight that would change, the engagement is getting annulled, and his reason to the court is "I have set my eyes on someone new, and with many competitors, I can't lose."

It wasn't hard for anyone to know who it was, I think the only one that didn't notice was Serena herself.

Actually, this was a huge arc in the story when all the love interests fight for her love, there was no victor as she did the poly relationship, which really confuses me doesn't she need to make many offspring for each of the families respectable titles, you can't just combine into one entire thing, can you? That be very messy, I guess you could just give away titles but then who gets-

Anyway, that had a lot of readers mad, usually the whychoose situation would be okay, but she mainly focused on Conner so there was actually no reason to choose this route.

Never mind, that's a conversation for another day that I'll just forget.

Connor approaches me grabbing both my hands, attracting attention.

"[name] there's something I have to confess..."

"You're breaking off the engagement"

"I'm breaking- wait what?"

"You've found someone new, that has many competitors and you can't lose a battle you haven't even tried winning, I get it. But I'd like a downpayment of 10,000 gold and you can give the 490,000 gold later to my personal account and we call it even. Deal?" Hustling, though it's a 50/50 shot with many deals with enough eyes on us I'm sure he'll give in.

"S-sure, right. Right- I'll get that to you immediately-" I gave his hand a firm shake before heading off to the...

If you guessed balcony you're wrong, I'm heading over to the food table.

"Did just see what happened?"

"Is she planning something?"

"500,000 gold?!"

"Sister, what are you planning?" Barbara came over.

Also, who calls their sibling sister, like sure, that works.

"What do you mean?"

"That marriage was meant to connect our kingdoms, you'd let that go so easily, and we both know your gaze on Connor, what are you planning." She spoke through her fan, in a hushed voice.

If I made a scene as to not let him go I'd be embarrassing you guys, but if I show that I'm okay with him leaving me I'm ruining a political standing that wouldn't even work out, I'd still do something wrong.

"Have some decorum sister, we haven't had a proper conversation in years, and this is the first thing you say to me? Typical Barbara you think you know everything since you're older and more "mature""

You could tell Barbara didn't take that lightly as she gripped the fan handle tightly, I literally didn't even do anything.

"I'll spare you from any more veins popping up on that face, don't be an ass, we both knew Connor is in love with Serena and that me begging him not to break the engagement would only bring shame onto our family, so I did us both a favor and ended it." I tossed my hair back before grabbing some croissants that were covered in chocolate, powdered sugar, and some strawberries.

Life really is great.

"What about the scandal that would break out."

"Again, it would break out either way, now do me a favor and go back to your group they're staring at me and it's ruining the snack that I have on my plate."

She let out a deep breath before heading off.

Speaking of which I'd rather have a place to place my food and eat it, pretty sure there's a table in the garden under the gazebo if I remember correctly and I don't but whatever.

Just to find a moping Jon.

"Should you be out here?"

"It's unfair once again he gets to have everything"

Oh? Do tell.

I raised an eyebrow at him cutting my croissant in half before placing a half in front of him.

He finally looks up his face turned shocked like I was a ghost or something.

"[name]?!"

I bit into my croissant, nodding.

"Why'd you have to go and break off the engagement, now I have Connor as competition."

I knew this happened in the novel but I just remembered how young he was he's around Damian's age and I'm about the same age as Serena so this was a cry for help.

"Why do you even like Serena?"

"I don't really, it's just... I wanted something that he couldn't obtain he was going to be the first in line, and he's just better than me in lots of things because he has training so I thought, at least I had Serena."

Sometimes I forget that back then age gaps had no restrictions.

"That just means fewer responsibilities anyway, aren't you a little too young to be worrying about any of that? Now, I brought over this croissant but since I'm nice I gave you half." I ruffled his hair and he tried to swipe it away.

"I guess you're right." He started gobbling the desert down.

Honestly, I don't even know why this was a love interest he's literally a minor, maybe that's why the author got backlash against that and the novel was an overall dumpster fire with a basic self-insert MC.

I don't know what's worse the fact that they kept dragging on the storyline or the fact that I'm now in the storyline.

I mean seriously he only liked her because of the plot, he got over this situation so quickly that you wouldn't even know why he was moping earlier.

-

Now back to the circumstance at hand I was at home and seems the family never forgot about me shoving Serena down the stairs, they almost forgot about me breaking off the engagement.

"... what if she got a scratch on her face? Or if the clothes ripped?! Are you listening to me?!" I zoned out for a good second.

See we had gone back to the castle and they kept rambling on and on about what could've happened to Serena had the fall been more steep or rough, but like does she even have even status to attend these events in the first place?

"Since you seem to not care about this we're cutting you off of money for the next month!" She hollered in my ear once more.

"What were you thinking at the ball?" Tim cut into Palmola's ramblings.

"Normalize giving contexts, Tim." He scoffed.

"I was sparring with Kon the other day and he made some bogus statement saying he was breaking off the engagement, I didn't think he would do it, but allowing him to? Have you any idea what this caused?"

"Who am I to stop Crown Prince Connor, Tim? He has a woman to chase, and wasn't going to give it up for this contracted engagement." I glanced at Serena who flinched and hid behind Jason.

"I still doubt that you'd let him go that easily, you've been obsessed with him since you laid eyes on him."

"And you know that because you're my caring younger brother or because you like to throw it in my face on the downfalls of my life?"

"[name]!" Palmola scolded me.

Bruce could only sigh at the scene.

"Palmola!" I retorted, bringing a tense atmosphere to occur.

Alfred arrived at the scene handing me a letter.

"To you, Princess [name]." I opened it to see the rest of the money that Connor promised me had been added to my account even with the 10,000.

I'm rich, but this is just the start.

"If that's all I'll be heading back to my room." I tossed my hair back before ordering the maids to prepare my bath.

"You're taking too long," I told the maids who were congregating among themselves instead of doing their jobs.

"Well, usually, Princ- I mean Lady Serena wouldn't mind-"

"Do I look like her?" I gripped the maid's chin.

"Don't worry, since it bothers you so much to draw me a bath you can pack your things up and leave tomorrow, you're fired." I pushed back my hair in agitation.

"What-"

"Did you not hear me, you're fired, don't make too much noise, go on." I shooed her away.

She just dropped to her knees and started begging me, but I made the other maids drag her out now all of a sudden they wanted to switch up and act proper.

"Now, with that out of the way, someone draw my bath." I rolled my eyes.

I do not condone maid abuse, but what's the point of working here if you don't do your job? So firing is the only option.

3RD POV

"That girl- I swear I don't know where she got that attitude from, did you see the way she talked to me?!" Palmola scoffed.

Duke could only think about how [name] seemed different actually the whole family could be thinking about that.

Damian kept stroking Titus' fur while thinking about how [name] didn't just keep her head down and take his insults. Wait- now that he phrases it like that, it sounds really bad.

Tim just thought about his friend Connor, he had been the one that Connor ranted to about how annoying his sister was but he didn't think [name] would take the cancelation of the engagement that easily, he thought [name] would least throw a tantrum at best. And since earlier he noticed how [name] looked at them at the stairway after. [name] looked at them like they were lower than her.

Dick was processing the whole thing, did [name] always talk like she didn't care for their approval? I mean [name] spoke like this could've been a letter delivered to her door instead of an important conversation. This conversation was important, [name] hurt Serena and canceled a political connection of a lifetime, he could feel a headache approaching.

Jason could only blink at the audacity, sometimes when this happened [name] at least looked like she gave a darn but not only was she okay with that Connor boy leaving her, but also being cut off [name] would at least beg for some forgiveness. But nothing...?

Stephanie would've had a jaw-dropping expression right now, but had her fan covering her mouth, holy lord did that really just happen? I mean [name] did not even try to bother her at the ball but she also gave up the man she bothered until her final breath and 500,000 gold?! That's an insane amount one and two when did [name] learn to negotiate?

Cassandra felt confused about what had just gone down, did she hear that right? That whole thing, just what occurred? [name] changed in two seconds, like she blinked, Serena tumbled down the stairs and then she just acted strange.

(What you're sticking up for yourself? That's criminally insane right there.)

Barbara had already dealt with how [name] did a 180 at the ball but she just thought that was because she thought she had a wedgy at the moment, though in general [name] had never done this so what happened this time?

Bruce well who knows what he's thinking he just looks constipated like isn't supposed to be saving Gotham in another life?/j

Bruce sat there, he didn't raise [name] like that, wait-. He didn't raise [name] at all... Is this his fault that [name] was acting out right now? No, he's been busy and with all the duty of the empire on his hands he couldn't pause it for [name], like yes, he does that for Serena sometimes- all the time but that's different she had a hard childhood growing up.

Serena, well, she gritted her teeth and clenched her fist. For the first time, something didn't go her way. And what was that attitude, who did [name] think she was? She shouldn't even act like that, at this point, everyone knows she's supposed to be in her position. I mean look at her.

So it's time to be the center of attention. Wouldn't you think?

Serena let out a few sniffles catching the attention.

"It's all my fault that she's in a bad mood, I'm sorry."

The family quickly came to comfort her. Never mind what they were thinking before, how could [name] be such a child in this situation?

After taking a nice bath and sneezing I was now changed into my nightgown. These things are nice.

I took [name]'s diary, so was not thinking, writing down her devious plans here, one of the reasons she was caught and executed, and she couldn't rebut it as they had proof.

So I'll do us both a favor and burn it.

Tossed into the flame I could only stare at the burning journal.

Another burning pile.

I should sleep I have a lot of plans tomorrow, and only a few months till school starts.

With a flick of my wrist, the candles blew out and the doors shut.

One perk about this world is the powers.

(H2O just add water)

So instead of actually writing the next part for any other series of mine I decided to make a new writing idea 🌝, I'm also making others in my brain as we speak but we're going to keep them there until I finish at least one of my series.

Anyway did you like it?

I'm going back to work now (writing), *le sigh*.

Happy early Lunar New Year though, I'm manifesting a lot of red envelopes to myself and many others!

If there's anything too cringy, plot holey, or grammatically wrong, do inform me!

[thefallenangel2008]

More Autistic Sea Grunkles headcanons because I'm a sucker for them and I love projecting on my favorite characters. I guess you could call this a part 2??? Idk but here it is.

Ok, so, I imagine them having some rules about what goes in the fridge and whatnot because of sensory issues. If Stan has food Ford doesn't like in the fridge he's gonna eat everything possible but that food to avoid it and live off protein pills or however these things are called. I mean, he's already done it while traveling through dimensions so he can easily do it again. Now, when Ford puts food in the fridge Stan doesn't like there's a chance he might throw it away in the ocean (he's already done it twice) and eat only stancakes until the ingredients run out. When they do, he's just not gonna eat. I imagine them both having many foods they couldn't eat as kids but when they got in their respective little adventures (homelessness and dimension traveling) they managed to overcome some of their sensory issues because they had no other choice (and when I say "overcame" I mean managing to get used to the not-THAT-bad-but-still-not-gonna-eat foods). But yeah, they still have a bunch of foods they don't like. :P

I already talked about them not talking when they're overwhelmed but now I want to ✨expand that thought✨ a little more.😍 I already said about them going nonverbal on eachother and comforting eachother when one of them feels overwhelmed, but hear me out. Ford is the quiet autistic and Stan is the loud autistic. Personally I see Ford as the type of autistic person who will regularly go nonverbal when feeling overwhelmed. He used to do a lot as kids Stan has learned the tricks and how to calm him down. And now, when it comes to Stan. Stan never shuts his mouth, never. He's always been the loud one out of the two. So when Stan goes nonverbal Ford freaks tf out because, even though Stan has felt plenty of times overwhelmed, and Ford has been there to comfort him, when he goes nonverbal he KNOWS things are THAT bad. Especially now, when his recovering mind relives traumatic events that happened to him during homelessness. During a particularly bad PTSD episode Stan hadn't uttered a word for a full of 4 days until one night at 3:00am he told Ford to take a break from his research and go to sleep. When Ford managed to coax out of him what was this memory he remembered, Stan had titled it as the "Tijuana Incident" (yes, I'm still not over that one Stanley bit from the website, that old man is a victim and he deserves better).

Also sounds. Stan doesn't really have a big problem with loud sounds, it usually depends on the day, his mood, the size of the room he's in and how loudly the people are talking in said room. But he hates repetitive sounds. Ford is a tad more sensitive when it comes to sound than Stan. Loud noises, more particular. He remembers his ma telling him the story of the day him and Stan graduated from kindergarten and there was a party afterwards, and the loud music had made him cover his ears and cry. He doesn't mind repetitive sounds as much as Stan does. But ringing, he does.

Part 1

[femboyclownpierce]

the "how do you define rpf in the mcyt space?" question is SO interesting to me coming from a bandom background, because i feel like a lot more people in the mcyt fandom have more experience with more "traditional" forms of story-telling: shows, movies, video games, art where there is VERY CLEARLY a line drawn between character, actor, and writer. those lines very rarely, if ever, exist in mcyt content. oftentimes a creator will fill all three roles, and sometimes they arent even aware theyre acting or aren't always acting.

so, let me ask this question: is writing fabulous killjoys, "fab 4," fanfic, rpf? party poison, fun ghoul, jet star, and kobra kid are all played by the members of my chemical romance, and are based on them as people, but at the same time there is a line of separation between them and mcr; they are characters the members the played. is it rpf? mcr fanfic based on any other era of the band undeniably is, but because they're playing characters in danger days, the line blurs.

it doesnt really matter where you draw the line because the answer to "is this rpf? is yes and no at the same time. they are putting on a persona while they stream/record, and then sometimes that persona is playing a character on an smp. is the creator intentionally playing a character, or are they just messing around? does it matter?

if you want my opinion, i think it becomes rpf without a doubt when you leave minecraft. "real person" is 2/3rds of the acronym, after all, and the minecraft world is very much not real. are you writing about bdubs and etho having a tense moment across the fence in their last life base, or are you writing about john booko standing in the canadian wilderness after etho s lab sent him a set of numbers he thought were coordinates? i also think that rpf is morally neutral, and that as soon as you stop caring about if you're writing rpf or not and focus more on if you're having fun, then the whole debate goes out the window.

[russellsppttemplates]

We learn to hold its hand (Charles Leclerc)

Two hearts that lost themselves in pain.

Two hearts that found eachother in love.

Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time since I posted one of these, hopefully I still know how to do it 🥲 A lot of changes have been going on at my job and I've been trying to adjust to all of it without loosing my sanity and writinb has been a good escape! I know this is a heavy topic, so proceed carefully, but I was feeling like writing this so here it goes... For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: cancer, death of close relatives (reader's and Charles' father), grief, hospital procedures

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"Bonjour papa", Charles greeted, running his hand over the photograph that was on the grave, "I just got back from the track where we did the testing for Sauber, the last one before the season starts. It's hard, but I'm not afraid", he gulped, "Because you taught me that, even if I'm afraid, I have to go with fear. To move forward, because that's the only way. In racing, I can do that, but I won't be able to continue my life without you because I won't be able to. I try. Every day, I try. For maman, especially, since she tries to be strong for me, Lorenzo and Arthur, and somewhere along the way, we gathered the strength we didn’t know we had, but when we realize it, there it is, supporting us. I'm sure it's you. Every day, I remember that afternoon when you taught me how to ride a bike. Your insistence on removing the training wheels from the big wheel that ended up with a wound on my knee and that made me scream a few times. I remember you telling me that there were worse things than that simple scratch. I never thought that one day we would have to face them and that they would be the main reason why you are no longer by my side", Charles wiped away the tears, while he couldn't help but smile at the beautiful memories that came back to him, "But more than that, I remember the day you put a kart in front of me for the first time. There, I knew it was love for life. Yes, like Francis Cabrel's song. Or that afternoon when I stepped onto the concrete of the best race circuit in the world. There, I knew that I would begin a story in which, even though I was the main character, I would never have been able to write all the chapters that have been completed so far without the help of your pen. That support, that dedication, that encouragement, that love, father. Without them, I would never be the Charles that I am today. There was so much left to say and so much to do. But I am grateful for everything we said and for everything we did. I remember you telling me that you could no longer be strong and you asked me to be. I miss you so much. I miss you so much that I cannot express in words. I just want to thank you for continuing to light my path and for being the best father in the world. You are not by my side, but you are on my side. I feel that, every day. Thank you for continuing to support me in every race and in every challenge that life throws at me. Thank you for being so present, even though you're so far away. I miss you every day. And I feel you with me every day. Je t'aime, papa", he says goodbye, standing up and shaking off the little dirt on his jeans.

He picks up his backpack and starts walking towards the cemetery exit, but a sweet, melodious voice makes him stop walking. Charles looks in its direction, observing a female figure who, sitting next to someone's grave, was quickly but skillfully strumming the acoustic guitar and, at the same time, singing the song he had included in today's conversation with his father. Je l'aime à mourir by Francis Cabrel. Charles smiles at such coincidence and turned his back, picking up his pace, but soon stopping again, feeling a great need to go and meet that girl whose voice conveyed the pain he knew so well - loss.

Charles swallowed hard and instead of walking away, he found himself getting closer and closer to the young woman who, judging by your physical features, was probably around his age.

He waited for you to finish the song to make myself present, since you hadn’t noticed him yet.

“I miss you every day, Lucas. I wish you were here. It would make everything so much easier", he heard you say, through tears, and he felt the impact of all her words. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t feel the same way.

Charles looks at the person you were visiting and his eyes almost popped out of his head when he notices the photo of a boy who couldn’t have been more than eight years old in that portrait. The date of death was twelve years ago.

"Who are you?", you ask.

Charles quickly woke up from his thoughts, focusing his gaze on you, now curiously appreciating him. The colour of your eyes, the way your hair fell down your back and your bare skin faacinaged him.

"Forgive me", he requested, a little embarrassed, "I heard you sing and I couldn't help but come here and tell you that you sing very well and that the person you dedicated the song to probably agrees with me", he replied and your shy laugh made him laugh too.

"Thank you", you offered, quite embarrassed, which was still funny, "He's my twin brother. He was eight years old when he left", you pointed to the portrait you had looked at moments before.

"My father. He passed away a couple of months ago", Charles decided to share the reason why he was also there.

"My brother had a rare blood disease, a cancer doctors were never able to identify. Chemotherapy and radiotherapy were not enough to cure him. In fact, the body of an eight-year-old boy could only handle so much at that time. I was the same age, but I will never forget my brother’s suffering and the strength he had until the end. My childhood innocence was taken from me that day. I am not an example to anyone. The true example of life left more than a decade ago, on a journey that still had a long way to go had it not ended the way it did", you said as you packed your things, letting your anger speak.

Charles noticed the crack in your voice and a few seconds later, he heard your sniffle.

The first instict he had was that he wanted to hug you in that moment and reassure you with just his arms, since words would never be enough comfort at a time like that. And at the same time, he felt that you needed to talk to someone who, being unknown and impartial, would never judge you for the anger you were experiencing.

"My father battled cancer for a few years but, unfortunately, he ended up losing the fight in July. However, the real winner is him. For so many reasons: for the way he faced the reality that was knocking on his door, for how he forced us to face it in the most positive way possible, so that it would become a little easier, and for the way he prepared us for his departure. He is a true hero. If, one day, I can be half the man and father that he was and is, you can be sure that I will leave this life happy", Charles spoke.

"They truly are the heroes who left early to prove that angels really exist", you said, looking at Charles intently in a way made him feel like an open book in front of the most beautiful reader he had ever seen in his life.

"I couldn’t agree more", Charles murmured, too caught up in the gaze of that twenty-year-old girl who was so much more like him than he had thought.

"Y/N", you held out your hand and he smiled at your introduction.

"Charles", he reciprocated, fitting his hand in yours, which you immediately shook.

And there, he knew that you were marked by the wound that would never heal and by the feeling that would never disappear: pain.

There, those two hearts that were lost in pain would be the same ones that would find each other in love.

.

Charles got up from the floor, after the usual daily conversation he shared with his father after training. He noticed you in the same position you had been in before, but this time, you were reciting poems from a small book you had in your hand, completely distracted from your surroundings.

It was the first time in almost three weeks that he had seen you again. You had stopped showing up at the same time as he did and for a moment he thought you were avoiding him. But he soon put those thoughts aside. After all, if you didn’t even know each other that well, what was the need?

“Y/N", Charles said as he approached you, alerting you of his presence.

You looked at him with a shy smile and immediately stood up as well, "I haven’t seen you around here since", he added and you laughed softly.

"In the last three weeks, I came in the morning, because of the internship I'm doing. I had to change schedules with a colleague and I couldn't come in the afternoon. Now everything is back to normal, so here I am", you explained and he nodded in understanding, "You never miss your schedule", you pointed out it was his turn to laugh.

"This is the best time for me to come because this way, I can spend more time with my father before the cemetery closes", Charles explains and you nod, "Hmm, I really like talking to you but, is it just me who thinks we're not in the best place?".

Your beautiful laugh makes him laugh too, "Without shadow of a doubt", you agreed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I bet you're hungry", Charles assuredly and you laughed again.

"Very", you dmitted, blushing, which made him smile at your embarrassment, "the line at the bakery in front of where I work was too long and, I'm sorry, but patience has never been my strong point", you defended yourself and he giggled.

"So it's better to go without food...?", Charles quirked an eyebrow as he asked, surprised and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"I wouldn't go without food, obviously. I was just going to have to snack something later", you shrugged.

Once you stood outside the cemetery, you looked at each other intensely, not knowing what to say, "Would you accept an invitation for a snack?", Charles gathered the courage to ask and it was your turn to laugh at his shyness.

"Yes", your positive answer made him smile.

"Do you have a car?", he asked and you said no.

"Not yet. It’s at the mechanic’s", you made a face of disgust and Charles laughed, "the good news is that my father can pick it up at the end of this week. You have no idea how much I need it for my internship", you complained and Charles smiled at you relaxed way.

"Then you’re coming with me", he invited and you thanked him.

Charles lead you to his car and you smiled in gratitude when he opened the door for you so you could get in.

"And, if you’ll allow me, can I know what you study, Y/N?", Charles asked curiously, when you were already in line at the caffè, the place being chosen by the young woman during your journey, which had been made in a silence that Charles wouldn’t consider awkward but also not very comfortable. The awkwardness was still there.

"Radiology and radiotherapy", you replied, letting out a smile, "Twelve years ago, for a few months, I followed my brother's fight and was inspired by the humanity of those doctors and the team responsible for his case. The way he was treated, the constant encouragement in his recovery, the words and friendly shoulder they gave my parents, and even me, the way they prepared us for the worst and the way they accompanied us in our mourning, was truly human and truly inspiring. And there, I decided that this was something I would like to do in the future. I want to help others like they helped me more than a decade ago", you said proudly, earning a big smile from Charles.

You were interrupted when it was your turn to make the requests and respective payment. Charles insisted on paying the entire bill and you gave in, after much insistence from his behalf.

"Next time, you'll pay", Charles promised, as you walked aimlessly through the streets of Monaco.

"Will there be a next one?", you asked, laughing and Charles couldn’t help but look away from your shy eyes, "It’s a promise, then", you added and Charles looked at you again, already looking at him with a smile.

You ended up sitting on the lawn of a garden, finally digging into your food.

"And you? Can I know what you study?", you asked, equally curious and Charles laughed, still feeling a little satisfied that you didn’t know him as a Formula One rookie.

"I’m a race driver", he told you and you looked at him in surprise.

"What category? And which team?", you asked with interest and he smiled.

"The best in the world and the biggest one in racing", he replied, not wanting to say the team's name directly, because that way he would be able to know which one she supported.

"Do you race for Ferrari?", you asked and Charles smiled broadly, happy with what he had heard.

"I was in their academy last year", Charles confirmed and you smiled.

"How come I've never seen you there?", your curiosity and interest were something that satisfied him. After all, he wasn't the only one who wanted to know more.

"I was in Formula Two with Prema", he explained and her "makes sense", spoken in English, made him laugh.

"But tell me something. Are you regular at races?", Charles asked and you nodded.

"You could say that", you both laughed, "My father and grandfather were always

big racing fans. In fact, they are. And they passed that love on to Lucas", you smiled and looked down at the ground, "The few times he wasn't in the hospital, he was at the track. What he felt for racing was something I had never seen before. It was contagious. Everyone infected Lucas and he infected me. After his death, I promised myself to accompany my father and grandfather, and even go there alone, to every race that was done there. It was, and is, a way of feeling Lucas with me. That’s why I love racing so much", you looked at him with teary eyes, letting the tears fall when Charles brought his thumb to your face, caressing it.

"I’m sorry", you murmured and he quickly denied it, so that you would know that everything was okay.

"You’re inspiring, Y/N. I hope you know that", Charles offered.

You shook your head, smiling, "No, I don't think so. I’m just an eight-year-old child, in the body of a twenty-year-old girl who cries every night, wishing her brother was by her side", you spoke, with some difficulty, and Charles swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to comfort you.

"No, Y/N. You are a young 20-year-old woman who lost her brother at the age of eight and who, even today, is learning to deal with his absence", Charles said and you quickly wiped away the tears that were falling from your eyes, unable to help but sigh heavily.

"So, tell me, how does it feel to wear red? I clearly have been focusing in specific catehorues", you asked with a smile and Charles smiles at your change of subject.

"Incredible. It is a dream come true. I have no words to thank the trust that my team put in me, and how stepping into F1, even if it's not Ferrari, is a huge sense of responsibility, after all, you’re representing one of the best teams in the sport, the best in the world for me", Charles proudly answered your question, not avoiding remembering the day he signed his first professional contract with the unspoken promise and hope of a place in the Scuderia.

"How many years has it been?", you asked.

"I've been with the best the world for a few years", you both smiled.

“We could go watch the historic race this Saturday on the track just outside the city", you invited Charles and he smiled at you initiative, not hesitating to nod.

“I was already thinking of going, but now I’m really going to", Charles answered and you blushed.

"Can you give me your phone number so we can arrange things better?", Charles asked, feeling brave enough to do so, and you nodded.

You exchanged contact details and chatted a little longer until you were interrupted by the ringing of your phone. Charles waited for the call to end and returned the smile you gave him.

"Typical motherly concern", you explained, and Charles laughed, nodding along

"I know how it feels", he commented and it was your turn to smile

"Since my brother passed away, my mother, who was already overprotective, has become even more so. I don’t blame her for that, quite the opposite. I have learned to deal with it and I don’t make her life harder, I have a very open relationship with my mother. My first academic choice was not Monaco, but in Montpellier", you said as Charles made such curiosity known and looked at you, "But the truth is that I couldn’t even finish the first semester in the city because I couldn’t stand being alone. It was as if the pain multiplied by mixing with the loneliness that I felt. We were so close that I couldn’t separate the pain of having to leave for one of my dreams. I wasn’t prepared for the nights when nightmares haunted me and the absence of my brother was felt more than ever. So, I asked my parents to come and get me and I moved back to Monaco, where it didn't get easier but it wasn’t as difficult as being alone. Since my brother left, we’ve gotten even closer. But the first few days were the hardest. My mother became depressed, my father closed himself off a bit more and, at the age of twelve, I let myself be suffocated by the feelings I had no one to talk to, until my father learned to deal with the pain and helped us do the same. Someone needed to get back on their feet and help others get back on their feet too, and my father was my hero. We sought out the best psychologists for my mother and her progress was very positive, but in truth, what she was doing, and rightly so, was mourning the loss of the most real, pure and true love in the world. She was mourning the death of her son. And she did it in the only way she knew how. Today, we continue to do it, but we do it differently. And if people now talk and watch us go about our day to day lives, it's not because it no longer hurts - because it hurts a lot - it's because we've learned to embrace pain and deal with it. We hold its hand. I think the learning process is lifelong. And I'm going to die, still learning how to deal with it", you said, and the impact of your words prompt Charles to shed a tear, which was joined by all the others, for all the memories that hit him.

"I miss him so much", Charles whispered, avoiding your gaze.

Just out of the corner of his eye, Charles could see you get closer to him, smiling faintly when you pulled him into a hug he didn't hesitate in joining.

You fit perfectly on his chest, head nestled there as he hugged you by your waist, enveloping you and kissing the top of your head without a hitch.

And in that first touch of many, you got to know eachother through the way you both knew so well - pain. And right there, without knowing, you started another one - love.

.

Charles was coming home after another training session, the last one before the charity race he was participating in which would take place the next day at ten in the morning. Today was also the historic race day, the race he would watch with you, after meeting up every day that week at your usual spot - although it wasn’t the happiest, you always ended up going to different places in the capital city, where you took the opportunity to get to know each other better.

"Charles", he heard his mother call out and smiled, going to meet the woman who was preparing dinner.

"Hi, maman”, he kissed her hair and bent down a little so she could kiss his cheek, “I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you", he looked at her with a guilty expression, "I'm not going to have dinner at home", he continued, enjoying the meat she was cooking that smelled very good.

"It's all right", Pascale smiled, "you're going to watch the historic race with Joris and Riccardo, aren't you?", she asked, as they were usually his company.

"Well, about that..", Charles mumbled, scratching the back of his neck in a gesture of confusion that didn't go unnoticed by the oldest in the room.

"Charles Marc Hervé Perceval! What aren't you telling me?", his mother asked, genuinely curious, and he laughed out loud when she turned off the stove and crossed her arms, waiting for him to start talking.

"I'm going with a girl", he started and saw her smile grow at the information he had given her, "her name is Y/N. She is twenty years old and is a final-year student in the radiology and radiotherapy course. Unfortunately, we did not meet under happy circumstances, but the time we have spent together has allowed us to create and experience moments that go beyond that", he explained, avoiding his mother’s gaze to hide his slight embarrassment.

"Where did you meet?", Pascale wanted to know.

"At the cemetery. It was during one of the visits I paid to papa, three weeks ago. She lost her twin brother to a rare blood disease that doctors were never able to identify. Y/N was eight years old when he passed away. I have never related with anyone as much as I did with her. She understands me. In fact, we understand each other. She is simply beautiful in every way", Charles shrugged, not avoiding a smile as he remembered you.

"Charles, is it just me or are you in love?", his mother asked with a smile as she hugged him, fitting into his arms.

"It’s not possible, maman. Only this week that we’ve gotten closer", he replied, not avoiding a nervous laugh.

Pascale laughed, "and since when did that stop you from feeling something for that young woman? Charles, amour, it’s not the time of things but the intensity with which we experience them", she wisely advised and Charles nodded, smiling weakly.

"Thank you for everything, maman. Je t'aime", he whispered against her hair, leaving a kiss there.

"Never forget that you, as well as your brothers, are my pride and the light of my eyes. Je t'aime, Charles", Pascale spoke.

Charles held his mothee on his arms, wanting her to be aware of the infinite gratitude he felt for her.

Pascale pulled away, wiping her tears, and smiled at Charles, "Come on, I don’t want you like this!", Charles asked and she laughed, waving.

"I’m fine", his mother assured, "Now go take a shower and get ready so you don’t keep the girl waiting. I’ll make you a bowl of cereal, so you can eat something before you go", she warned and smiled, getting a kiss on her forehead.

"You’re the best!!", Charles exclaimed, leaving the room, and she laughed.

"I know!", she said, laughing, and Charles laughed at her expression.

Once he got to his bedroom, Charles chose a presentable outfit, wanting to dress appropriately and blend in with all of the fans and enjoy the race that was probably one of the last moments before everything flooded in. The PR team had already warned him that once he was in Formula One, everything changed and he hoped he could have this evening.

He ran to the bathroom, took a quick and relaxing shower, and got dressed without rushing, making sure he looked his best. After that, he went back to the kitchen, where his mother was still, finishing the preparations for dinner.

“Since I didn’t have any company for the meal, I invited your cousins”, she said.

Charles gave her a guilty smile, "I'm really sorry, maman", he spoke sincerely, and it was her turn to laugh, shaking her head.

“It’s okay, Charles, I was just kidding. I want you to go and enjoy Y/N's company. I haven't even met her yet and I already like her", she commented.

"Oh really? Why is that?", Charles wondered, really interested.

"Why? Because every time you talk about her, it's impossible for you not to smile. And I like that", she admitted and he blushed, hearing his mother giggle at his shyness.

"Maman!", he mumbled and the older woman laughed.

"What's wrong?", she asked, pretending not to notice as her son rolled his eyes, laughing.

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything, I should've stayed quiet", Charles complained and she laughed out loud.

"As if I wouldn't eventually find out, Charles", she winked, convinced, and Charles laughed at the joviality that characterized his mother, even after everything that life had put her through.

They were closer than ever and he felt very comfortable sharing any kind of subject with her, she was his best friend and the best thing in his world.

"I really have to go", Charles announced, looking at his watch, making sure he wouldn’t be late.

"Do you have everything with you, amour?”, she asked and he looked at her confused.

“Yes, why?”, Charles answered with another question, while he set the bowl of cereal in the sink.

"Are you sure?", she insisted and he snorted, patting his pockets and checking that nothing was missing.

"I have everything", he replied, kissing her forehead as a way of saying goodbye, "I'll see you later. Je t'aime!", he shouted from the living room and heard her laugh.

"Do you have the condoms with you?", Pascale asked, giggling, and Charles almost choked on his own saliva.

He couldn't believe it.

"Seriously, maman?", he made himself heard out loud.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Charles? I too was a young woman your age once. And I'm too young to be a grandmother!", she said, coming to meet him at the door, and she couldn't help but laugh when she saw his embarrassment.

"I'm leaving!", Charles exclaimed, leaving a last kiss on her cheek and walking all the way to the car while laughing, knowing his mother never missed the opportunity and had a great ability to embarrass her own son.

Charles got in the car and drove off towards your house which, even after a week, continued to leave him astonished by the external beauty that set it apart from the others in the same neighborhood. He sent you a quick text letting you know that he was already waiting for you and, about three minutes later, he heard a door slam, looking in the direction of the noise and not helping but smile when he saw how you were dressed appropriately for the race.

"Wow, yes, we have a racing fan", he complimented and the brunette giggle.

You were dressed in a vintage jacket, an allusive cap with the peak turned backwards and the rest of the outfit complimented it.

The rest of the journey to the track was transformed into a karaoke session, "tell me if we don't make an unbeatable singing duo", you joked as you walked towards the interior of the building where you would be sitting.

"Like society hasn't seen in many years", Charles joined in your joke and you laughed

Charles put his right hand on your shoulder, hugging you and guided you through the crowd so that you wouldn’t lose each other. He heard his name being called and two kids running towards him, making you stop walking. He greetd them with a smile and they ask for a photo that would be the responsibility of the woman who was waiting for them to position themselves, "your girlfriend can also join the portrait", the oldest women pointed to you, and you couldn't help but blush, making Charles smile sideways when he noticed such a thing.

"We're not-", Charles didn't let you finish.

"Come here, Y/N", he asked and the lady waved, heading towards you.

After the photos were taken, the kids thanked Charles, immediately disappearing from our sight, "Do you want to see something around here or would you rather go inside now?", Charles chatted up while you tried to show yourself less embarrassed.

He couldn't help but admit that he was enjoying seeing you like that and, more than that, knowing that he was the one that made you feel that way.

"We can go inside, since race time is very close", you preferred and Charles nodded, placing his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the entrance.

You greeted the various security guards who were there and headed to the place that your tickets indicated. Because Charles belonged in a professional driving championship, he was entitled to the VIP stands.

"Wow", you exclaimed, truly enchanted by the view you had of the track, which was undergoing the final touches before opening its doors to the public.

"Have you never been here before?", Charles asked and saw you deny it, while remaining astonished, appreciating the atmosphere around you.

"Only for a visit when Lucas was with us, never when there was an actual race happening. This is going to be great", you finally looked at him, offering him a smile, "thank you, Charles", you spoke and he acknowledged the sincerity of your words, smiling at you broadly.

“You’re welcome", he downplayed the situation, just hoping you would feel good, "I don’t know if you drink, but would you like a beer? Or perhaps some wine?", he asked and you laughed.

“I don’t usually drink, but today I can make an exception", you accepted and Charles smiled.

“Are you sure? You have every right to say no" he made it clear and you laughed, denying it.

“Seriously, Charles, we can go", you insisted and he waved, giving you space so you could go ahead of him.

The crowd there was huge, but that didn't stop you from drinking and snacking before the race started.

"The teams are getting ready", Charles said as you finished our drinks and you waved, standing up and opening your wallet to take out the money.

"Hey you! What are you doing?", Charles quickly intervened, placing his hand on yours to stop your movements.

"Charles, what did you promise? 'You'll pay next time', that's what you said", you imitated his tone of voice and you burst out laughing.

"Can't you wait until next time?", he insisted and you gave him a death glare, making Charles realise there wasn't much he could do.

"Okay then", he gave in and you giggled smugly.

You went back to your seats after you paid, watching everyone get ready for the race.

"Do you have a favourite driver?", Charles wondered.

"I don't think so. Each one has something to offer to the races, and it's not like many of them are here", you spoke before seeing Lewis Hamilton approach one of the cars.

A song came on and you pulled Charles to dance with you, singing in his ear as he smiled, tightening his grip on your waist. "Now comes the part that no one knows how to sing", you added, moving away from Charles a little and he could notice your shyness, most likely because of the action you had done before.

You danced awkwardly, which earned you a couple of looks, and stopped when the announcer of the track, already full, made himself heard, announcing the race was about to start.

"I love this part", you smiled, getting a kiss from Charles on the hair that was not covered by your cap.

The race started out well and everything seemed to be going as they hoped, the announcer mentioning some facts they had about the historic race.

"THAT'S AN OVERTAKE!", you shouted and the entire section stood up, celebrating yet another great move from Lewis.

You screamed euphorically, pulling Charles into a quick hug, before joining in the celebrations with the rest of the fans.

This girl was out of this world, Charles thought.

"I've never seen a girl like you", he said, automatically enchanted by you.

"That's because I'm an exclusive edition", you joked and you both laughed, "Is that good?", you asked seriously.

Charles returned your gaze, nodding, "Very. You're different from everyone I've ever met", he admitted and you smiled, looking away from him.

"Good. That way, I don't have to worry about them", you shrugged.

Charles smiled, satisfied with the answer you had given him, "Come here" he asked in an act of courage, hugging you while you rested your head on his chest and focusing your attention on the race.

When the race ended for a break until the next one, you took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, while Charles chose to do the same.

Since he was quicker than you, given that the line was shorter, he waited for you outside, where there was a line of young people who were looking at him curiously.

"Finally", Charles muttered to himself as he watched you leave the compartment.

"What happened? Were you feeling watched over?", you made fun and he stuck his tongue out at you, pulling you closer to him. "Watched over?! It seemed like the girls were undressing me with their eyes", he accused.

"That was most likely exactly what was happening", you confirmed and he looked at you in shock, which made you laugh again, "What?! You can't judge them!", you argued.

Charles laughed, honestly pleased with what he had heard, "Oh really? Have you also undressed me with your eyes?", he whispered in youe ear.

"No, I prefer to do it with my hands", you murmured against his mouth and walked ahead of him, leaving him perplexed.

Well, take that, Charles, his subconscious spoke and he chuckled - the ability you had to leave him speechless was unbelievable. Noticing the faces you were making, he decided to return to your seats, where you were already dividing your attention between your cell phone and the track.

"What are you watching?", Charles asked, moving closer to you to observe what you were watching, spending some time watching the silliness and fun on her screen.

"The game is going to start again", Charles said as you quickly turned off the electronic device and hugged his waist, while you paid attention.

"What is he doing to Lewis?", Charles complained.

"Do not play around with him!", you joined.

"Maybe there's a favourite after all?", Charles teased you.

"Maybe, he is very skilled and handsome", you shrugged.

"Oh, good", Charles murmured, feeling a pang of jealousy at the way you had spoken about the driver.

Your laugh made him realize that you had noticed, "Charles, are you jealous?", you mocked and he rolled his eyes, avoiding looking at you.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know that word", he shrugged, trying to make you forget the subject but you didn’t give in.

Instead, you brought your hand to his face, making him look at you, "I’m here with you, aren’t I?", you asked seriously and he smiled weakly, nodding along, "So it’s not Lewis that interests me", you concluded, paying attention to the track again.

Charles sighed, pulling you closer to him, a gesture that made you smile.

Once the race ended, you headed towards the outside, trying to avoid the confusion as much as possible.

"Shall we eat something?", Charles asked you, intertwining your fingers, and you smiled shyly at him, which made him chuckle.

"Please!", you agreed and laughed out loud. "Suggestions?", he asked and you looked thoughtful.

"The center might not be a good idea because it must be full after this", you ruled out, "that new panini shop?", you suggested and he agreed.

You got in the car and headed towards the shop, ordering it to go and Charles ended up choosing a nice spot that overviewed the city.

"Tomorrow I'm going to race", he began, "I know it's not your tradition, but I'd like for you to come watch", he invited and you smiled.

"I'll be there", you agreed and it was his turn to smile, "At what time is it?", you wondered.

"At 10:00 in the morning. I know it's Sunday but...", Charles trailed off.

"Tomorrow, at that time, I'll be there to support you", you promised and he thanked you.

Charles parked the car and you got out of the vehicle, enjoying the fresh night air, which was quite pleasant. He cleaned his shirt and pants again and heard you laugh as you came closer to help him with the crumbs.

"Clumsy", you criticized jokingly, and he stuck his tongue out at you.

You sat down on one of the benches that were there and you sighed, making Charles look in your direction.

"How peaceful", you whispered, while keeping your eyes closed and a small smile on your lips.

"Monaco is really beautiful", Charles said, hearing you agree with a small murmur.

You took off your cap and tried to fix you hair, making Charles laugh.

"Let me help you", he gently asked and you turned to him, letting him fix the rebelliousness that characterized you.

As soon as he finished, he continued to caress them, which made you close you eyes to enjoy the affection.

"Kiss me", you murmured and he looked at you in surprise.

"What?", Charles asked, trying to understand if he had heard correctly.

"Kiss me, Charles", you repeated.

"Can I?", still astonished, he wanted to make sure.

"You should", you replied as Charles smiled at your answer and pulled you towards him, appreciating the serenity of your face.

"Finally", Charles whispered against your mouth before finally placing your lips together for the first time - of many, he hoped.

You allowed his tongue to enter your mouth when he silently asked for permisson and he intensified your kiss, truly surrendering to you.

And in eachother's lips, you discovered the path to peace, the one you both had lost years before with the pain that had overwhelmed you.

.

You woke up to the sound of the alarm clock, quickly getting up, not wanting to be late for Charles' race,

"Y/N, dear?", you heard the surprise in you mother's voice and couldn't help but laugh. "Hi, mama", you said, giving her permission to come in, and she did so.

"Are you going to tell me why you're up at this hour? Of all people, you who hibernates all weekend!", she joked and you stuck out your tongue, which made her laugh.

"I just felt like getting up, that's all", you said briefly, as you looked through your closet, looking for the most presentable, yet comfortable, clothes possible.

"And why are you going to dress so nicely if you're going to spend the whole day at home?", she mused, suspiciously, and you laughed at her curiosity.

"Okay, mama, you win", you eventually gave in and she celebrated, which made you laugh out loud.

"I'm going to watch the charity race", you said and her curious look made you realize that her questions were only at the beggining.

"Who's your boyfriend from there?", she didn't hesitate to ask and you looked at her, shocked etched on your face.

"Why do I have to have a boyfriend to watch the race?", you asked, astonished and she looked at you with an expression that said to not mess with her.

"Your mother is old but she's not stupid, Y/N", she scolded, laughing and you followed.

"Mama, you are forty-eight years old. You are a young woman", you complimented her, trying to make her drop about the subject and the older woman laughed.

"Yes, yes, sweetheart. Now the question I asked you", she insisted and you laughed, shaking your head.

"I don't have a boyfriend, mama. But I have a friend who would like me to go and I'm going", you told her and the smile she gave you made you blush.

"Name?", she wanted to know and you snorted, making her laugh.

"How annoying", you rumbled and she laughed again, "Charles".

"Then I hope this Charles takes care of you or the wooden spoon will fly", she threatened and you couldn't help but laugh with her.

"You're amazing, mama", you replied and she laughed, coming towards you and kissing your forehead.

"I just want you to be happy", she muttered, while caressing your face and smiling.

"I am", you assured her and she smiled, before walking away, leaving you alone again. You ran to the private bathroom and took a quick shower, leaving it shortly after so you could get ready in time. You applied some light makeup and dried your hair, leaving it in its natural waves.

You went down the stairs, passing through the living room, patting Simba on the head, the old Labrador who had always been with you, and whose name was based on Lucas' favorite movie.

"Good morning", you greeted your parents, although you had already spoken to your mother.

"Up so early, my dear?", your father was surprised and you looked at my mother, who was already looking at you with a suggestive smile that made you roll you

[mrs-starkgaryen]

This chapter has me like

Girl where do I start? The wording in this was 😘🤌

Let's dive in to my analysis like I'm back at uni-

1. "You turn to the mint green wall where your paper airplane resume rests on the hardwood floor like the wreckage of the Titanic sits at the bottom of the ocean."

A) This symbolises their relationship will feel like they're flying high at one but come crashing down eventually. Whether that be one of them dies, personal issues or LA fucks them up.

B) my first thought reading 'Titantic' was 😱 the last time I read something about the Titantic was your last Aegon x Reader but they both survived... Is this your way of hinting that they won't be so lucky this time to have a happy ever after?

2. "He snickers, shaking his head. “Don’t let a man make you uncomfortable. Don’t believe anyone if they say they want to drive you somewhere to see you audition or take your picture and nobody else you know is going. When you go to clubs and parties, watch the bartender make your drink and never put it down until you’re done. Don’t get talked into plastic surgery. Yes, that includes Botox and fillers.”

A) Forget reader, does he want to bend me over? This was so hot, he loves taking care of us.

B) Is this because he's used to what goes on in LA or this possibly him speaking from experience? Has he had such a traumatic experience that made him want to leave acting behind and go into something that will protect future actors from the same fate?

3. “I’m getting married. Figured I’d do the whole settling down and living a quiet life thing.” He spins around one of the photographs on his desk so you can see it. In the frame, Aegon is standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a woman around his age, tall and willowy, long thick dark hair, flowing white sundress, wearing black aviator sunglasses to match his."

A) the fuck he is?! Not on my watch

B) I feel like this Becca is someone his family set him up with, to calm him down maybe? I don't feel like he's attached

C) Or he does like her but not enough and he'll realise that when he realises reader is amazing

D) Something defo happened for him to want a calm life..

4. "But you’ve already bitten over the same spot, enlarging the wound, your tongue grazing the notches left by Aegon’s teeth. You giggle as you lick juice from your lips. “It’s so good. You’re delusional.”

A) idk if it was because it was Aegon's bite mark but that was one of the most sexiest things you've written.

B) I bet Aegon watched that and gulped, thinking "oh shit."

C) if when they have sex or whatnot and this is not mentioned or reenacted, I'll riot

5. “Why did you stop acting?” You Googled Aegon before your meeting, so you know some abbreviated version of his story: a wealthy and prominent family in the production industry, several years spent as an actor beginning when he was around your age, a shadowy withdrawal into working as an agent with a practice so small and off the beaten path that it must be deliberate. He could have coasted his whole life on effortless roles in Lifetime movies or Hulu original series. Instead he chose obscurity, and a drab little office in half of a duplex on a run-down street in Elysian Park, and Brandon the receptionist as his sole employee, and clients who are nobodies like you."

A) something has happened for him to disappear like that...

B) could be an illness like people are saying but I feel like it was something traumatic and his family told him not to talk about it as it would affect their image. So he chose to stay close but not in the spotlight

C) Feels a lot like the Olsen sisters, like we have Elizabeth but where did the twins go? Very much like Aegon??

D) I can't wait to see what his sister and brothers are doing in this industry lmao

E) I feel like they're in trouble somehow- celebrity vs celebrity

6. “Um…well I think I got sick of how superficial it was, all the obsessing over height and weight and wrinkles and who’s in and who’s out, the unwinnable contest of who can be perfect the longest. We’re supposed to play real people but we’re not supposed to be real people, you know? And there are just a lot of things about this place that can leave people jaded and fucked up in all sorts of ways we weren’t before. And I don’t want that to happen to you, so I’ll try to make it as good of an experience as possible.” He smiles. It seems genuine. “I don’t really miss it. I’m a better agent than I was an actor.”

A) again something happened and he doesn't want it repeating

B) I copied this mainly because it was probably my favourite section due to how spot on you are? How well you wrote it? Fake people playing real people, barbies and bratz games

7. "You warn Aegon as you return his fork: “You’re going to die early.”

“I know,” he says, watching the oscars scowl at him through the glass."

A) like everyone said, you're going to kill him off, aren't you?

B) unless you've made it so obvious that he isn't. Maybe not physically but mentally, emotionally. You'll find a way around it

C) maybe she dies

D) is the way she described that food going to describe the way one of them ends up? Covered in blood?

8. Aegon grins and slips black aviator sunglasses out of a pocket inside his jacket and says as he puts them on, maybe to the sky, maybe to you: “You are so bright, sunshine.” Then he climbs the steps to the front door of his small, inauspicious office.

A) double whammy, sky and her are bright

B) we've found the reader's name, pack it up

C) and he goes into his office to get away from the sun of the sky and her? So he's defo gonna try and keep away from her romantically as his feelings would be too much and he'll be scared she'll find out what happened to him cuz he doesn't want to break her optimism

9. “Okay. I hope you get the star.”

A) I've got a star spot sticker on rn, so I've technically got it

B) the Hollywood star?? His or hers? Omg I'm banging my head on the wall, I feel like this is significant (or I need to go bed)

10. “Don’t thank me. This place is a curse.”

A) we've got the title, pack quicker guys

B) oh ho, oh ho. We knew it was a curse but why is it to him? WHAT HAS HAPPENED??

11. “Yeah, that’s awesome,” Jace agrees as he shovels pieces of a shrimp tempura roll into his mouth. Jace is Baela’s boyfriend of six months. He’s allegedly getting a PhD in Musicology at UCLA, but he only goes to class one or two days a week and does exceptionally little other than that. Once in a while you’ll overhear him pounding on the Yamaha keyboard he keeps in Baela’s room, cursing to himself and kicking the wall in frustration.

A) oh you really don't like Jace lmao

B) the orcas will be coming for u

Overall, sorry for an essay. I know I repeated a lot of the same stuff but I'm sure something happend. I keep thinking of the Brandon Fraser case (bless him) but idk if you'd go that dark.

Either way, great story so far and I can't wait to delve into the dark underbelly of sunny LA

A Curse [Chapter 1: Chinatown]

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent...at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon's right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, references to sexual content (18+ readers only), a lil age gap, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, big doomed situationship energy, erotic apple eating, Minnesota.

Word count: 5.6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

He takes your hand without looking at you. He had been lounging with his green Nike Killshots up on the desk when Brandon, the receptionist, brought you in. He had also been playing a translucent orange Nintendo 64; now the game is paused and Mario is frozen on the screen of the 24-inch television, deep underwater and in pursuit of a gold star affixed to the tail of a giant eel.

“Nice to meet you,” Aegon says without much interest. You’re smiling, not that he notices. Then he nods at the receptionist. “Thanks, Brando.”

“Oh, no problem at all!” Brandon trills buoyantly, pulling out your chair for you as Aegon flops back into his own. “Can I bring anything? Iced coffee, matcha latte, Perrier?”

“I’m good,” Aegon says, glancing at your resume where it rests on the desk amongst framed photographs, manilla folders, takeout menus, gum wrappers rolled into tiny balls. You have the impression he hasn’t read it. Nonetheless, you are still smiling.

“How about you, hon?” Brandon asks you.

You don’t want to make him run to a Starbucks or anything. “Um…I’ll take a Perrier, please. That’s easy for you, right? You can just grab it out of the minifridge in the lobby?”

“You betcha!” Brandon darts out of the office and returns in ten seconds. In the elapsed time, Aegon has not looked at you once. Instead, he slouches in his chair and thumps his Nikes onto the desk, sighs, and gazes longingly at the television screen. You sit up straight with your hands folded in your lap. You have dressed in business casual attire for the occasion: a modest yellow sundress and TOMS wedges, warm understated eyeshadow, sparkly champagne pink Dreamer by Anastasia Beverly Hills, matte brown Hope by Huda Beauty. Brandon returns and hands you a green glass bottle of Perrier, ice cold and slippery with condensation, and closes the door behind him as he leaves.

“Look, I’ll be honest,” Aegon tells you, picking up your resume and scanning it blandly. “I don’t want to waste your time, but I’m really not in the market for new clients. Brando made this appointment before I told him that, and then he really didn’t want to cancel it. He liked your resume or something. So I’ll hear you out but don’t expect much.”

“Oh. Well…I really appreciate you taking the time to see me anyway!”

He gives you a swift sideways look as if suspicious of your enthusiasm. It’s not that complicated; you haven’t had an audition in weeks, and none of the other six agents you’ve seen have signed you. Aegon Targaryen’s drab little office in one half of a duplex in Elysian Park is a relative paradise. His blonde hair is gelled back from his face. He wears dark jeans, a teal t-shirt, and a wrinkled tan sport coat jacket thrown carelessly overtop. You’ve Googled him; he’s thirty-five, so a decade older than you. “Where are you from?”

That’s on your resume he hasn’t read. “Minnesota.”

Aegon’s eyebrows shoot up. “No wonder you left. City or country?”

“A town called Apple Valley, it’s about a half hour outside of Minneapolis.”

“So you’re not a nepo baby.”

“A what?”

“Your parents aren’t connected to the entertainment industry in any way.”

“Oh right, no, they definitely aren’t. My dad’s a cardiologist. My mom worked as a waitress while he was in med school, and now she just has a lot of Akitas.”

Aegon flips over your resume and skims the back. “Are they supportive of you being out here?”

“Um…” You chuckle uneasily. “Not really. My older sister’s a pharmacist and my brother’s in law school, so I am definitely the underachieving child. But they’re not too mean about it. They’re just waiting for me to get it out of my system.”

“Law school where?”

“Michigan.”

“State or University?”

“University.”

“So you’re really smart,” Aegon says. He has begun to fold your resume into a paper airplane. “Intelligence is genetic. If your siblings are book smart, you probably are too.”

You smile and shrug, not knowing what to say. “I guess so.”

“Do you have a boyfriend back in Minnesota who’s calling you every other day trying to convince you to come home and marry him and have two kids and a Goldendoodle?”

You laugh. “No, no boyfriend. I mean, I have an ex-boyfriend there. I see him sometimes when I fly home to visit. But he’s not standing in the way of anything.”

Aegon nods like you’ve passed a test. “Do your parents send you money?”

“Yeah, but not a lot. They don’t want to encourage me. I work at a Cold Stone Creamery in Harbor Gateway, it’s just a few blocks away from my apartment. I have a roommate, she’s trying to be an actress too.”

“Ice cream,” he muses. He launches your paper airplane resume; it sails across the room, hits the mint green wall, nosedives to the floor. “Do you like working there?”

“It’s fine. It’s a paycheck. Back in the spring I was doing after-school programs for Mad Science, driving all over Watts and Southeast teaching children about bugs and magnets and outer space, so that was really cool.”

Aegon looks up at you, brow furrowed. It’s the first time you’ve had his full attention. “You were doing after-school programs in Watts?”

“Yeah, it was awesome. The kids were so fun. But I needed something that was more flexible so I could be free during the middle of the day for auditions and stuff.”

He blinks at you a few times. “Why do you want to be an actress?”

You stall, twisting open your Perrier and taking a gulp. “That’s a hard question.”

“It’s literally the most obvious question. If you can’t answer it, I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“Well, I never wanted to be an actress,” you say. “I just kind of…am one. I can’t read a book without my expressions and my posture changing to match what’s going on in the story. I can’t watch a movie without feeling like I’m in that world with the characters, or, or, or imagining how I would have delivered the lines differently. And then even when I’m doing something totally unrelated…math homework, walking my mom’s Akitas, making ice cream…I envision where the cameras would be if I was being filmed, which way I would tilt my face to catch the light. It’s something I think about all the time and I can’t turn it off. So how am I supposed to be a doctor or a lawyer and spend my entire life trying to avoid every thought that occurs to me organically? It sounds like torture.”

Aegon stares at you, a long golden silence as daylight pours in through the windows facing the east. Then he drops his green Nikes to the floor and straightens up in his chair, studying you. He points to the windows. “Look that way.”

You do, closing your eyes when the glare is too bright.

“Now the other side of the room.”

You turn to the mint green wall where your paper airplane resume rests on the hardwood floor like the wreckage of the Titanic sits at the bottom of the ocean.

“Stand up.”

You set your bottle of Perrier on his cluttered desk and obey, but with some reluctance. “Please don’t ask me to bend over.”

Aegon snorts a laugh. “That’s not what I’m doing. I want you to go to the door and then walk back to me like you’re angry.”

“I have a bunch of acting reels on YouTube—”

“I don’t want to see your acting reels. I want to see you in front of me right now.”

“Okay,” you agree. You go to the closed door, take a moment to shake off the real world, and then walk to his desk, your footsteps heavy and your eyes hard. Aegon’s dark blue gaze follows you and does not waver.

“Look at me like you’re sad.”

You imagine he’s said something horrible to you, a husband who’s broken a vow, a doctor with a grim prognosis.

“Good!” Aegon says, animated now. “You get it. It’s in the eyebrows, not the mouth.” He gestures to your chair. “Now sit down like you don’t want to be here.”

You move sluggishly, like you hope someone will interrupt you; your eyes float boredly around the room. Then you plop heavily into the chair and stare at Aegon, a little vacuously inane, a little resentful like a petulant teenager. You pretend to chew gum you don’t have.

Aegon smiles, amused. “If I’d asked you to bend over, would you have done it?”

“I’d like to say no, but I’m pretty desperate.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “Don’t let a man make you uncomfortable. Don’t believe anyone if they say they want to drive you somewhere to see you audition or take your picture and nobody else you know is going. When you go to clubs and parties, watch the bartender make your drink and never put it down until you’re done. Don’t get talked into plastic surgery. Yes, that includes Botox and fillers.”

You sip your Perrier. “Well, I might get a boob job.”

“Don’t get a boob job.”

“Why not? Basically everybody here’s had one. I think Taylor Swift got two.”

“You don’t need a boob job,” Aegon says impatiently.

“I’m not sure you have all the knowledge to make an informed decision about that.”

“I am so sick of this bullshit,” he mutters, pushing the takeout menus and manilla folders around on his desk but leaving it no tidier. “People cutting up their perfectly normal bodies…people stuffing themselves full of poison…so afraid to look human they end up like motherfucking Bratz dolls.” He sighs and peers up at you again. “Just so you know, I’m getting out of L.A. I’m only going to be here until September. So by then you’ll have to find someone else. But I can get you started, I guess.”

You are beaming. “You’ll be my agent?”

“Yeah, but like I said—”

You squeal and leap to your feet, taking his left hand with both of yours and shaking it vigorously, Aegon gaping up at you. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I am going to be the best client you’ve ever had, I will never ever complain, I will do anything you say, I will audition with snakes and tarantulas, I will swim with sharks.”

Aegon grins, perhaps despite himself. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Why are you leaving in September?”

“I’m getting married. Figured I’d do the whole settling down and living a quiet life thing.” He spins around one of the photographs on his desk so you can see it. In the frame, Aegon is standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a woman around his age, tall and willowy, long thick dark hair, flowing white sundress, wearing black aviator sunglasses to match his.

“That’s exciting!” You love weddings. “And you two look so happy together!”

“Yeah, Becca’s pretty great.” Aegon takes a stick of Juicy Fruit out of a pack on his desk, shoves it into his mouth, distractedly rolls the white and red wrapper into a ball. “She’s a real caretaker type. Always trying to do my laundry and pack me lunches and bake pies and whatever.”

“And that’s something you look for in a woman?” you tease lightheartedly. Aegon gives you a lightning-quick annoyed glance, and your smile abruptly dies. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Please don’t fire me.”

He chuckles and stands up from his desk, his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket. Mario is still underwater, forgotten on the frozen television screen. “Let’s go grab some lunch.”

“Right now?” You slide your phone out of your purse—crossbody, wildflowers, Patricia Nash but found at T.J.Maxx—to check the time. “It’s like 10:30 a.m.”

“They’ll be open by the time we walk to Chinatown.”

“Okay!” Lunch can only be a good thing. Still clutching your Perrier, you trot after Aegon into the small lobby, scuffed wood floor and cheap IKEA couches. Behind the reception desk, Brandon is making notes in a planner using one of those pens with a fake flower on top. He looks up at you and Aegon as you pass by.

“Brando, I’m taking an early lunch,” Aegon tells him.

Brandon is hopeful. “Are you signing her?”

“Yeah, but it’s just until—”

“Oh for cute!” Brandon cries out, and Aegon is stupefied. But you know exactly what Brandon means. He must be from Minnesota too. So that’s why he liked my resume. Los Angeles is kind of like the military; once you’re swimming in this multinational fishbowl, everyone from your home state is a friend.

“What part?” you ask, smiling.

“Duluth.”

“Bet the Pacific Ocean beats Lake Superior any day.”

“Have you been to Venice Beach yet?”

“Oh yeah. Heaven on earth.”

“Good luck with everything,” Brandon says, and then he winks. “I hope you get to stay.”

Stay in L.A. Stay here chasing the dream. Me too. Then you follow Aegon through the front door and down the concrete steps to the sidewalk, out into breezy mid-70s air and sunlight peeking from behind pure white tufts of cumulus clouds. You can hear music and dogs barking. The street is lined with quaint midcentury houses with metal fences and humming air conditioning units in the windows; any businessowners here are hanging their own shingle, beauticians and pet groomers and bakers. On the horizon, you can see the silvery skyscrapers of Downtown.

“So about that resume I clearly didn’t read,” Aegon says as he walks with his hands in his pockets. “Have you done any meaningful acting work since you’ve been out here?”

Why lie? “No.”

He gives you a shellshocked look like this is the worst case scenario. “Well…I appreciate your honesty. So you’ll take anything.”

“Absolutely anything. I mean…” You take an anxious swig of your Perrier. “I’d really rather not be naked.”

He’s laughing again. You’re not sure if he thinks you’re funny or ridiculous. “I’m not going to pitch you for roles that require nudity.”

You are relieved. “Okay. Cool.”

“Where did you act before?”

“After college I did some short films for grad students…they’re all pretty terrible, I’ll admit it, but I didn’t write them…and I was in a bunch of shows at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. And I worked in the gift shop.”

“Guthrie?” Aegon says. “Like Woody Guthrie?”

“No, common mistake. A completely different Guthrie. Some English lord who was a director.”

“Which shows were you in?”

You describe your roles, all supporting, none leading: Romeo and Juliet, Othello, A Streetcar Named Desire, Pride and Prejudice, Julius Caesar, Anastasia, Frankenstein, August: Osage County, Richard III, Dracula. Aegon listens but he watches you too, the way you stride in your TOMS wedges over the cracked and uneven sidewalk, the way you use your hands too much when you talk, a habit you’re trying to break. His eyes on you—that deep and tumultuous blue—do not feel like a leer, and you think you’ve acquired enough experience in your past three months in Los Angeles to know the difference. Aegon’s gaze is no longer disinterested but methodical, practiced, ever-seeking, notes transcribed not in ink but electrical impulses and ineffable cyclones of neurotransmitters.

“Dracula,” Aegon jokes. “Vampire experience, huh? Maybe we could get you in the Twilight reboot.”

“Is that really happening?”

“It is, but it’s going to be animated. So it’s only voice acting. And I think we can aim higher than that.” He pauses at an intersection and looks lost for a few seconds, then remembers the way and bears to the right. This street is busier, hectic with shops and pedestrians, teenagers on skateboards, vendors advertising their fruit smoothies and boba teas. Red banners printed with twisted dragons and Chinatown 2025 hang from the streetlights. Towering palm trees cast shadows in the shape of windblown leaves. “Do you get along with your roommate?”

This is a random question. You finish your Perrier and discard the glass bottle in a trashcan. “Yeah, she’s really nice, we’re friends. Why?”

“Good. Housing instability is a huge source of stress for young actors, just wanted to make sure you weren’t in danger of ending up sleeping under a bridge.”

“I might be if her boyfriend ever gets a job and can pay half of the rent.”

“Well if it happens, let me know. I can help get you set up somewhere.” Aegon yanks his phone out of his jeans pocket to check the time. “We’ve got a few more minutes to kill,” he says, and ducks into a market strewn with crates of produce: bitter melon, bok choy, pears, pomelos, dragon fruit, peaches, plums, durian, sweet potatoes, kumquats, lychees. You follow after Aegon as he weaves through narrow, crowded aisles, inspecting the wares and waving to shopkeepers that he recognizes. He asks you as he points to a dozen cardboard boxes overflowing with apples: “Does this make you homesick for Appletown?”

“Apple Valley,” you correct him, laughing. “And not quite. I’d rather have Venice Beach.”

“What’s the state apple of Minnesota?”

“I have no idea.”

“Let’s find out.” He uses his phone to Google it. “Honeycrisp.”

“Oh neat! Those are pretty good.”

“Are they?” He searches until amongst the Granny Smiths and Fujis and Golden Delicious apples he finds a box labelled Honeycrisp. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried one.”

“Now’s your chance.”

Aegon picks up a large, glossy apple, pinkish-red and striped with yellow, and takes a massive bite. Juice dribbles down his mouth and chin; he wipes it away with the back of his hand. “I’m going to pay for it,” he assures you when you look startled. He chews, deliberating. “This apple sucks. This is a flop apple.”

“You are blinded by your anti-Minnesota prejudice.”

“It’s boring.”

“How can an apple be boring?”

“It’s like…too sweet. Not tart enough. Not as good as a Braeburn or a Pink Lady. Here.” Aegon tosses the Honeycrisp apple and you catch it. Then, when you stare at the sizeable bitemark he’s left in the fruit: “Wait, I mean, you don’t have to eat that part, obviously. Try the other side—”

But you’ve already bitten over the same spot, enlarging the wound, your tongue grazing the notches left by Aegon’s teeth. You giggle as you lick juice from your lips. “It’s so good. You’re delusional.”

Aegon watches you for a while before he speaks. In the meantime, you finish eating the apple with quick chomps. “Are you medicated?” he says.

“What? No, why?”

“You just seem…I don’t know. Bizarrely happy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I’m in Los Angeles, I’m living the dream, I have a brand new agent. My life is amazing.”

“Okay,” Aegon says uncertainly; but he’s smiling. When you pitch the apple core back to him, he catches it. Then he grabs a plastic bag off a hook and drops one fresh Honeycrisp apple inside. “We’ll let Brando be the tiebreaker.” He shows two fingers to a shopkeeper and pays in cash. You steal a glimpse of your phone; it’s just after 11:00 a.m.

Down the street from the market is a set of steps leading into what appears to be a basement. Instead, when Aegon opens the red door, on the other side is a restaurant already filling up with patrons. The tables are round and covered with crimson tablecloths; at each seat is one of those paper Chinese zodiac calendars with all twelve animals and their descriptions.

“Good morning Mr. Aegon!” a tall middle-aged waitress says warmly and ushers you both to a table by a large fish tank with opalescent pebbles lining the bottom. From the other side of the glass, colossal black-and-orange oscars gawp menacingly. The waitress passes you a menu.

“No,” Aegon says, snatching the menu out of your hands before you can open it. “Order what you’d normally get.”

Obediently, you turn to the waitress. “Do you have moo goo gai pan?”

She nods. “White rice or fried rice?”

“White rice, please.”

“Mr. Aegon?” the waitress says.

“Boneless spare ribs with fried rice. And a pot of tea, and two wanton soups. Thanks, Lanying.”

She hurries away to tend to other customers. You ask Aegon playfully: “Did I make the right choice?”

“You did. Naturally low-calorie but high in vitamins and protein. If you’d ordered the sesame chicken and only taken two bites I’d know that you probably have an eating disorder. But now I’m optimistic.”

“And you got the most unhealthy thing on the menu. What does that mean?”

“Life is short. I try to keep it delicious.” He taps the side of the fish tank; one of the oscars attempts to maul him through the glass. “Do you exercise?”

“Not by choice. I force myself to walk to and from work, and that’s the best I can do.”

Aegon seems alarmed. “I don’t think you should be wandering all over Harbor Gateway. Especially not at night.”

“There are always other people around.”

“Yeah, and some of them might mug you.” The waitress arrives with a pot of tea and two small, handleless cups. Aegon fills both with tea, slides one to you, and reaches for the little plastic container of sweeteners on the table. “Splenda?” Aegon guesses correctly and then flings several yellow packets across the table to you.

“Can I ask you something now?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Aegon says. The waitress returns with two bowls of wanton soup and makes conversation with Aegon briefly. She inquires about his health, his parents, his business. You wait until she leaves to ask your question.

“Why did you stop acting?” You Googled Aegon before your meeting, so you know some abbreviated version of his story: a wealthy and prominent family in the production industry, several years spent as an actor beginning when he was around your age, a shadowy withdrawal into working as an agent with a practice so small and off the beaten path that it must be deliberate. He could have coasted his whole life on effortless roles in Lifetime movies or Hulu original series. Instead he chose obscurity, and a drab little office in half of a duplex on a run-down street in Elysian Park, and Brandon the receptionist as his sole employee, and clients who are nobodies like you.

Aegon slurps broth from his spoon, stalling. He’s caught off-guard; you can tell by the way deep troubled grooves appear in his brow. That’s part of being a good actor. You have to learn how to read people until you can feel their emotions as if they are your own, until you can mimic them so convincingly your own pulse quickens or your stomach drops. “Um…well I think I got sick of how superficial it was, all the obsessing over height and weight and wrinkles and who’s in and who’s out, the unwinnable contest of who can be perfect the longest. We’re supposed to play real people but we’re not supposed to be real people, you know? And there are just a lot of things about this place that can leave people jaded and fucked up in all sorts of ways we weren’t before. And I don’t want that to happen to you, so I’ll try to make it as good of an experience as possible.” He smiles. It seems genuine. “I don’t really miss it. I’m a better agent than I was an actor.”

“And you’re not even that good of an agent.”

He laughs and shakes his head, just watching you, just trying to figure you out. He looks down at his Chinese zodiac calendar. “What are you?”

“I’m a dragon.”

Aegon reads aloud: “You are eccentric and your life complex. You have a very passionate nature and abundant health. I could see that. Kinda sounds like you.”

“Which animal is yours, the horse?”

“Yeah, 1990.”

You study his description. “Popular and attractive to the opposite sex. You are often ostentatious and impatient. You need people. I don’t think you’re very ostentatious.”

“But no qualms with the other parts?”

“No, the rest seems accurate.”

He stares at you, those overcast blue eyes curious, searching, maybe a little puzzled. When the waitress brings out the entrees, Aegon spears a piece of his boneless spare ribs with his clean fork and offers it to you. “Here, you want to try this?”

You really shouldn’t, but you make an exception. You take his fork and eat: saccharine blood red sauce, glistening gelatinous fat. It’s one of the most delicious bites of food you’ve ever tasted…and then it’s gone. You warn Aegon as you return his fork: “You’re going to die early.”

“I know,” he says, watching the oscars scowl at him through the glass.

You walk back through Chinatown together, Aegon swinging around his plastic bag with his Honeycrisp apple for Brandon, you listening as he tells you what each shop is known for and points out a temple dedicated to the goddess of the ocean. Now the sky is clear and the sun is high, and hot, and blinding when you aren’t under the shade of awnings or palm trees.

You say cheerfully once you have returned in Elysian Park and you can see Aegon’s office, a blue neon sign that reads Targ Talent Agency pulsing in the window: “So do you have any fun plans for Father’s Day?”

“Nope. My dad’s dead.”

“Oh my God.” You’re so mortified you almost trip over your own feet, your TOMS wedges stumbling over the pavement. Aegon instinctively reaches out to steady you, and you grasp his hand gratefully. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It happened when I was in college so I’m used to it.”

“He must have been young.” Forties? Fifties?

“Yeah,” Aegon says shortly, letting go of you. “Are you doing anything special?”

“My parents are paying to fly me back to Minnesota. But I won’t be gone long, I promise. It’s just a few days.”

Aegon smirks roguishly. “Going to make time to see that ex-boyfriend while you’re there?”

You smile, a little bashful, a little mischievous. “I might.”

He chuckles. “Enjoy. Don’t get pregnant and ruin all your hopes and dreams.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, I can’t take the pill because it made me suicidally depressed but we use condoms.”

Aegon is bewildered, his jaw hanging open. “You don’t overshare like this in auditions, do you?”

“No, sorry, I thought you were asking me a question.”

“It wasn’t a question, it was a comment.”

“Oh. I thought it was a question.”

He shakes his head and stops at the 2003 Honda Accord—painted in a shade called Desert Mist Metallic—parked curbside, a gift from your parents when you went away to college only to return in disgrace with a Theater Arts degree that they lie to their friends about. From one of the nearby houses, you can hear Take It Easy by The Eagles drifting out into the sun-drenched street. “Is this your ride?”

“Yup! This is me.”

“Well I’m going to make some calls and see what I can get you, and I’ll let you know either way in a few days how it’s going. Brandon has your phone number and headshots…and I can find your acting reels on YouTube if I need them…yeah, I think that’s everything. Okay?”

“Okay. I hope you get the star.”

Again, you have confused him. “What?”

“In the Mario game. The one on the eel’s tail.”

Aegon grins and slips black aviator sunglasses out of a pocket inside his jacket and says as he puts them on, maybe to the sky, maybe to you: “You are so bright, sunshine.” Then he climbs the steps to the front door of his small, inauspicious office.

“Aegon?” you call after him. At the top of the concrete steps, he pauses and turns around. Here in the shadowless midday light, you are overwhelmed with gratitude. It’s difficult to speak without your voice breaking. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Don’t thank me. This place is a curse.”

He opens the door and disappears inside.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Guess who has an agent?!” you announce ecstatically as you burst into the apartment. Baela and Jace are in the living room on the velvet orange couch, eating sushi and watching True Blood on the 40-inch flatscreen television that Baela’s parents bought for her.

“Congratulations!” Baela says from the couch. “Finally! I’m so happy for you!”

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Jace agrees as he shovels pieces of a shrimp tempura roll into his mouth. Jace is Baela’s boyfriend of six months. He’s allegedly getting a PhD in Musicology at UCLA, but he only goes to class one or two days a week and does exceptionally little other than that. Once in a while you’ll overhear him pounding on the Yamaha keyboard he keeps in Baela’s room, cursing to himself and kicking the wall in frustration.

“Is he nice?” Baela asks, meaning your new agent.

“I think so,” you say thoughtfully. You aren’t sure that nice is the right word. “He’s kind of weird and grumpy. But I really like him.”

“Is he old?”

“Not at all. Aegon’s thirty-five.”

“Ew,” Baela says. “Old.”

“I really like him,” you say again, smiling to yourself without realizing you’re doing it.

Baela groans. “Please don’t be one of those girls who fucks their agent.”

“No, it’s not like that. He’s engaged to someone super gorgeous. They’re getting married in September.”

“Huh,” Baela replies, losing interest now. Her eyes have drifted back to the tv. She hasn’t landed a role as a film lead or a series regular yet, but she’s been working steadily since she got to L.A. and her star is ever-rising. Tomorrow she is auditioning for Yorgos Lanthimos’s new movie. She’s not allowed to tell you anything about the script. It’s a secret; it’s an honor.

You go to the kitchen for a drink and stop when your gaze catches on the calendar affixed to the stainless steel refrigerator with plastic magnets shaped like pineapples. Friday, June 20th is circled with red ink; in the box below, you have scrawled the necessary details.

Baela twists around on the couch and sees you. Her voice is gentle; she knows you’re nervous. “When’s your appointment?”

“Next week.”

“You’re really getting sliced up?” Jace says.

You smirk at him, less than appreciative. “It’s just a consultation. But yeah, probably.”

“You scared?” Jace asks, gnawing on a pod of edamame.

Obviously. You sigh. “I think it has to happen if I want to land roles.”

“I haven’t gotten any plastic surgery yet,” Baela says, not meaning to sound smug.

You murmur as you ponder the time and address written in red on the calendar: “Well nobody is saying you need to.” You’ve had no less than ten people suggest implants outright, and far more have implied it. Aegon is the only person you can think of who dismissed the idea summarily…and that includes your parents. Your father has been emailing you doctor recommendations. He must think it’s a good investment for your post-California-detour life.

“It will give you more confidence,” Baela says as she turns back to the tv. “A little extra something to take you to the next level.”

You stare at her forlornly from the kitchen. You are suddenly very aware that you miss being outside: the sun, the heat, the swaying palm trees, the radiant kinetic potential. “That’s part of the problem? My confidence?”

She shrugs, using her chopsticks to dunk a piece of her tuna roll in a small plastic container of spicy mayo. She seems oblivious to how deflated you are. “It’s just so hard to stand out here, you know? The phrase ‘California dime’ exists for a reason.”

Jace glances at you over the back of the couch. “I think you look fine.”

“Thanks, Jace.”

“I think you’re easily a California nickel.”

“That’s super sweet, Jace.”

Now Baela is telling him to shut up and they’re bickering back and forth, but you aren’t listening. You take your phone out of your purse and open Instagram. You search for Aegon and find his account; his username is superstargaryen. You follow him. Within a minute, just long enough for you to click through one of his highlight reels—mostly pictures of the beach and trips to In-N-Out Burger—he follows you back. Then you receive a DM.

Aegon has typed: Brando says the apple is good

You giggle to yourself as you tap out a reply. Told you :)

Aegon responds: Or!!! All Minnesotans have no taste

And then he adds a few seconds later: I had to Google that word…Minnesotans…sounds fake

You reply: Please use Google to get me a job instead

He starts typing something, then stops and reacts with a laughing emoji instead. You pull a can of Diet Coke out of the fridge, wondering what he was going to say before he changed his mind.

Late that night, after a nine-hour shift at Cold Stone Creamery, you shower and crawl exhausted into bed wearing an oversized blue L.A. Dodgers t-shirt that you’re swimming in. You turn on your laptop and open YouTube, search for Aegon’s acting reels from ten years ago, fall asleep listening to his voice like the endless ethereal rush when you hold a seashell to your ear.

[genderqueerdykes]

Thinking about trans and gender related surveys (that as long as they're not like, from transphobes, I love to take because survey!!!)

But then how almost every single one has "what sex/gender were you assigned at birth" and the answers are "male", "female", and "intersex" and if you're lucky, "other".

There are ones that don't actually dig into or study intersexism in any way that even ask, "if you're intersex, were you assigned male or female at birth", and when the (always perisex) people who created the survey are asked about it, invariably the answer is something like "oh well, the gender/sex you were assigned at birth has an impact on the life you've lived and discrimination you've faced so I thought it was more important than actually asking you about the life you've lived and discrimination you've faced". Like hun, no....

If there is an "other" option, especially on a trans-focused survey, I just put "I will not disclose the agab/asab that was used to erase my intersex identity" down or similar. Like ah yes, let me just give you the label that's been used to force social and medical violence on me for decades so you can pretend to know what I have and have experienced... ha! No.

When will people learn that if you want to know about someone's experiences, you have to ask them about their experiences? It's so simple, but so many people just don't seem to get it!

And while the "were you assigned male female or intersex" ones reek of ignorance, given that the vast majority of intersex people WERE assigned female or male INACCURATELY (and therefore it perpetuates erasure to force people to choose between what was assigned as a form of violence and what they are", I almost hate the ones that force intersex people to disclose the agab/asab that's been weaponized against them more. ESPECIALLY when the survey creator then smugly explains to the multiple intersex people upset about it, "well, it 'tells' me what you've been through" (so I don't have to bother to ask or learn and can just assume)

Like, to my awareness I did not have surgery as an infant, though given my birth and pre-adoption history I have very little way of knowing for sure. I WAS however coerced onto a hormone based "treatment" when the first signs of my sex characteristics changing popped up, which also made my dysphoria significantly worse when I was already suicidal due to being abused. And then I've been told I'm basically [agab] and not "really" intersex (despite the vast majority of the intersex community saying my variation IS) by a lot of the trans community especially.

I mean, what it really boils down to is people asking "but are you male or female intersex". Often to determine whether I'm "boy or girl nonbinary", even.

Like no actually. Knowing my agab tells you nothing about my sex characteristics, socialization, puberty, discrimination and oppression I've faced, and so on. That's the whole point intersex people have been exhaustively trying to make!

I'm not giving you my CAGAB when every time I have before it's been used against me by the very same people that demanded it

Just. GAH.

thank you for taking the time to send this, i really appreciate you making your story heard. i am so sorry you've gone through all of this. it can be such a gauntlet to be a queer intersex person. there's so much behavior and common rhetoric that hurts us because so many people are obsessed with figuring out what genitals a stranger has. the fact that people literally lump nonbinary into girl nonbinary and boy nonbinary.

people do not realize how obsessively binarist & gender essentialist they have being. but it's constant. you shouldn't have to disclose your assigned sex at birth. you shouldn't have to disclose your genitals at all. other queer people shouldn't be dying to know what genitals you have and have had.

[marshmellin]

Galadriel is a kick-ass, legendary warrior in Arondír's eyes. I suspect other rank-and-file elven soldiers view her similarly.

Every time (every. time.) Arondír is on screen with Galadriel, we get to see how much true awe he looks at her with. Arondír gives us the unique perspective of how Galadriel is perceived as a warrior among other elven soldiers. Gil-galad and Elrond (as well as Círdan and Celebrimbor) are all very familiar with Galadriel and her bullshit. They know her great deeds on the battlefield. In some cases, their in-show vibe has been like: Yeah, the darkness, the shadows, the evil. Valar, we know, you are older than the sun itself. YES, we will text you if the darkness returns, grandma, just staaaaaaahp fighting so much.

Arondír looks at her in a completely different way. He looks at her with the eyes of one who knows of her great deeds, and can not believe he is now in the same room as her. The look on his face, IMO, says she's damn near a mythical warrior at this point for him. (To get poetic and therefore less accurate with it; Galadriel's status to this rank-and-file elven soldier is: Athena. The Morrígan. Freyja. Ishtar. Durga.)

Arondír's face when Galadriel:

"So, Theo, m'boy, that is Lady Galadriel, commander of the Northern Armies, and she's here to save every Valar-damned one of us. I can not believe she's here, are you kidding me? She is a LEGEND. Put some respect on her name and heal her already, Elrond, why are you standing there like an idiot if you have a magic ring? Are all High Elves this insane?"

Arondír's face when not Galadriel:

I think there’s a deep beauty in seeing just how much Galadriel has inspired other elven soldiers, and how long she has been fighting. For Arondír to say her name like that, with such relief and awe in his voice, truly says something to how he — a normal elven dude who used to be a grower before he was hauled into mandatory watchguard duty or whatever the hell — views her.

I don't get the sense that he and Galadriel are work besties, so to speak. So that makes me think Arondír knows of Galadriel and her skill from what he has heard of her — her renown, her reputation. Potentially her magical hair color.

And this warrior respect she has won is highlighted again. Arondír knows her enough to trust her and listen about when to attack Adar outside Eregion. The man wants blood even if it's his own, and she talks him down. Galadriel is the reason he is alive rn, candidly. Her on-the-field advice to both him and Theo — to pause, to show restraint, to plan for tomorrow — is indicative of the type of leader she is.

This, to me, also makes the nearly-kinda-sorta mutiny when we first see Galadriel hit so much harder. If she is this near-mythic warrior and general known by all, and soldiers like Arondír know of her greatness from stories of what she has done — if she's THAT GIRL from a warrior and leader perspective and yes JRR did in fact make her that girl — then yes, that mini-mutiny at Gil-galad's order stings so much more. Not only that Gil took command of these five troops and said "follow her until you reach X and pull back regardless of her command." That sucks a lot. But I see additional pain there, IMO, because she could interpret that move as Gil-galad saying "her judgment as a warrior and leader can't be trusted. She no longer is the mythical warrior we need." A hit to her reputation in front of other soldiers, not just a censure of the actions she took. Yikes bikes on your timing there, Ereinion.

Bonus Trek Thought:

Truly, the first time Arondír said “Galadriel” with wonder to Theo, he instantly made me think of BOIMLER in the SNW/LWD crossover ep! He is bashful and giddy about meeting Number One on the original Enterprise. GIDDY. Every time he sees her, he is in awe. And it's because she was a legend to him. Her story inspired him to join Starfleet; set him on his life's path, literally. She was the coolest officer and fighter and scientist he had ever heard of.

his hero. and now he's meeting her.

An additional note: We can read the look on Arondír's face as romantic, too, don’t get me wrong -- ship and let ship. Would it be the Arondriel girlies (gn)?. But jokes aside, I don’t want to relegate Arondir’s closeness and warrior bond with her to romantic only. Miv has unstoppable chemistry and so does Ismael. Hot people are hot, more breaking news at 11.

[milkymora]

✧ arcane women - childhood headcanons ✧

note: got a little emotional while writing this but what can i do. missing arcane like a mf. everything is sfw obv, cts of pictures used to their respective owners on pinterest. characters: vi, jinx, caitlyn, mel, sevika.

⟢ vi.

vander always listened to old rock songs. it was the same 4 ones on repeat, one of them being “god of thunder” by kiss. he’d exaggerate his singing just to make her laugh, and it always worked, until she learnt the lyrics as well: blowing, together, felicia’s eardrums.

felicia understood vi liked girls when she was 5 yo. how? simply because the little menace vi was, would suddenly go quiet, shy and a little red even, when met by a girl she thought was cute. she would talk quietly and try to befriend them by timidly sharing her toys, just to go to her mom later on and tell her how pretty her new friend was.

she always included powder when she went to play with other kids. little pow was always the youngest and sometimes the other kids would be mean to her, because she didn’t understand games rules and couldn’t play well. however that’d happen only once, because vi wouldn’t allow it a second time.

⟢ jinx.

used to get sick so easily. always with a runny nose, a fever or cough. vander would spend hours cooking recipes for her; and he would always manage to make them taste good and look appetizing, chopping veggies in star or heart shapes, or adding anything that could make it look cute to a child’s eyes. and it worked! she would always eat it.

she was very scared of the dark and struggled to sleep some nights. that’s when vi would tell her bed time stories she’d create on the spot, or sing her their mother’s lullabies, until she’d fall asleep.

when she was learning how to write, she’d exercise writing little love letters for vander and vi. though she would always spell vander wrong, writing it “vinder” because she’d get confused, mixing the two names.

⟢ cait.

she had all kinds of toys, from dolls to mini, plastic shotguns. cassandra absolutely hated the latters, however there was no denying little cait adored playing with them way more than the dolls. she would always annoy her with it when she was working.

she didn’t really have any friends growing up, aside from jayce. she was either studying (yes, she was home schooled) or training her shots with older enforcers. she didn’t mind being alone, but when jayce became her friend she realized how good it was for her. jayce allowed her to vent a lot, about anything.

cassandra was always overprotective of her, mainly showing her tough love and giving her restrictions on basically everything, yet... there were a few times where the two of them had tender moments, like when caitlyn playfully wore her mother’s wedding dress for fun and cassandra actually got so emotional she teared up.

⟢ mel.

always a quiet girl, with her nose buried in her books. historical ones precisely; her mother made her passionate about history, telling her all kinds of fun facts about the places she’d been at, making her curiosity bloom into a desire for knowledge of the past that made her devour hundredths of books during her childhood (and teenage hood).

another passion she had was art. as we’re shown on the show, mel can paint. that’s because she’s always done it since she was a child, one of the many things ambessa wasn’t fond of. nevertheless, her mother’s disapproval never stopped her from continuing her hobby, that is one of the things that make her feel best when doing it. ambessa ended up giving in and actually enjoying her works, finding a way to get one and put it on her chamber’s wall.

had an amazing relationship with her brother kino. both him and her were very similar, interests and personality wise, so it became a habit to find comfort in the other when one was not feeling okay. they always knew which words to use.

⟢ sevika.

she was actually pretty timid as a child. she hated fighting and seeing others fight, which was why she’d always run off when it happened. and, unfortunately, it happened all the time. for that reason, her childhood had been pretty harsh and she suffered a lot because of it.

but there wasn’t only bad times. although she wasn’t close with her father, she got along with her mother just fine. they had lots of loving mother-daughter moments, cooking together and doing each other’s hair. her mother would often compliment her eyes, “you have your father’s eyes, with my face”.

she would always help other kids. the ones she thought were deserving of it of course, helping them when they’d get hurt for a reason or another or simply keeping them company if their parents weren’t around. it’s one of the reasons she’s well known in zaun.

i hurt my own feelings writing about sevika but oh god, there are no freaking canon infos about her past it’s unfair. gosh i love my babies so much. stick around if you’d like more arcane content pretties, i’ve got plenty more in store for ya >:).

✧ arcane navigation. ✧

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Hello💜 I know I basically just put in a request BUT I had this in mind for long and I just saw that you're doing AU's, soooo...

It takes place in Sonic Prime, it's just a bit different. First difference is that there are multiple universes (I'm counting the whole world from Sonic Prime as only one of them) snd every one of them has a crystal and it's handler. The crystals of different universes can do different things, but basically, the more complexed the world, the more powerful the crystal. It's handler has to protect it and can also make use of more of it's power then others who want to try it (like Nine or C.C.).

The handler of the Prime universe was Shadow and the handler of the "Earth" universe is the reader. They kind of met when one of them was exploring the others universe and became friends.

Because Shadow managed to lose the crystal (I don't remember it's name) and the Chaos Emerald, he wasn't really able to contact the reader in anyway.

The fight also went a bit different - Nine was too late to realised that what he was doing was wrong, just as the last of their universe was about to shatter, so Shadow used that crystal and managed to transport everyone to reader's house, sadly losing his and his friends universe at the end.

So the main story starts when reader was basically chilling in their house (it's far from others and quite big, so there won't be any issue with that), when suddenly everyone from that battlefield teleported there. Shadow introduces them and asks for reader's help in giving them a new home

Hope you understood it, I can't wait to see you make it😁 Love ya🥰

“No Way Back…”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Human Reader

AU: “Keepers of the Crystals”

Requested: Yes (by @grapegirlpoland ).

Description: Well. You definitely didn’t expect to become the keeper of a bunch of Mobians. But life is just the strangest thing ever, isn’t it?

Notes: My first AU request!!! I really hope I do this one well! Hope you enjoy! ^^

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Something was wrong.

You could just feel it.

Your danger sense was just telling you that something was about to happen.

So you set your book down and rushed outside from your house (which was in the middle of nowhere, and for good reason).

Before you can do so much as blink, a bunch of mobians are in front of your house, along with five strange-looking humans.

In the middle of them all is one you recognize, that being a very exhausted Shadow, who was the guardian of the Paradox Prism.

You only knew him because you had visited his world before a few times, but you had visited less and less due to you having to guard the Earth’s special crystal, known as the Earthly Emerald.

“Shadow! What the heck happened?!” you ask, rushing over to him.

He lets out a few sharp exhales, out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters out after he catches his breath. “I couldn’t protect the Prism. It…It’s been destroyed.”

“That explains all of the mobians on my doorstep…” you mutter.

“I’m sorry. I thought your place was the safest bet for where we could stay,” Shadow says.

You let out a sigh.

“You all can stay. But I’m in charge,” you say. “No fighting, no leaving the house, and no murder. And don’t touch the Earthly Emerald. I will know if you’ve gone near it.”

“Thank you, [Name],” Shadow says.

“I’m not sharing a room with any of you,” one of the two-tailed foxes states.

“That’s fine, I’ll just set up room preparations…” you mutter. “You, Shadow, are lucky I have a big house in the middle of nowhere, and that I like you.”

“Ooooh, Shads is in lo-ove!~” Sonic teases.

Shadow lets out a yell and jumps onto Sonic, who screams, a cloud of smoke appearing around the two as they fight, causing you to facepalm.

You go to the side of your house and turn on your hose, spraying the two hedgehogs, getting them to stop fighting.

This was going to take a lot of getting used to.

But you would manage.

[callme-naomi]

Faced up, cold heart, no longer by my side now

Warning: angst, manga spoilers

Summary: the graveyard has a lot of stories to tell, if only anyone would stop and listen. However, some stories are best kept hidden from the living.

You may have heard stories, gossips, rumours, from the living. But even the graveyard has a lot of stories to tell, if only anyone would stop and listen.

Yes, you read it right. The land full of the dead has more to tell you than anyone else could. It has been a silent witness to countless events, the silent listener to tears shed at night, and the flowers showered in the morning, and words of regret and longing spoken.

It will tell you the story of the boy with pink hair, who comes by in the morning, and spends hours. It's not that he has a lot of time to spare. It's because he has a lot of people to visit. To tell them he misses them, to tell them he's sorry he couldn't do more.

Even the birds stand still as the happy-smiley boy lets down his defences and goes to his grandfather's grave, then his teachers', then his brother's, and so on, all the while his face being washed with tears while he lays down a flower. The very air halts to carry his whispered words,

"Grandfather, I miss you."

"Sensei, nothing's the same without you."

"Nanamin, I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I promise, I didn't take the easy way out."

"Choso, I wish we had more time together."

And he wondered if the words he spoke were heard by anyone but him.

The graveyard will tell you the story of the spiky-black-haired boy, his steps masked in the darkness of the night, his heart heavy as he walks towards the family he never had, and the family that slipped through his fingers. Regarded as one of the strongest of his age, all his powers left him as he crumbled to the ground, eyes emptily staring at the graves holding pieces of his heart.

He lived for them, and now that they're gone too soon...

He conflicted between screaming his rage and pain out, and simply crying as his gaze roamed over his parents' graves. Guilt and grief seeped through him as he approached his sister's grave, the girl who, despite having no powers, chose to protect him, always.

And then, at his teacher's grave, who cared for him like his own, despite not being obliged to, not caring for the family rivalry, and still loving him till the very end. He hated himself as he looked down on his hands, stained with the invisible blood, and even though he knew he was powerless to stop this death, and it wasn't his fault, for him, it didn't change the fact that his father figure was gone too soon.

And the man who, despite being heavily injured and losing an eye, put himself in the way to save him, who fought till the very end and even in his last moments, prioritized others over his self. Who left the world with unfulfilled dreams

At this age, when children go to the park with their families, this boy goes to the graveyard, with a burdened heart, to his family six feet under him, but still too distant.

Leaving behind a mere idea of what could have been.

And the graves will also tell you the story of the young doctor, her eyes rimmed with dark circles, her hands heavy with the uncountable lives she saved, who comes to lament the lives she failed to save, and the people she used to think would be with her forever, but left her alone in this cruel world.

The doctor, tired, allows a sob to escape as she stands in front of the graves of her classmates and juniors, reminiscing over the joyful memories they made, the trips and rules they broke together, and the beautiful sunny days of their friendship, not even having once thought that nobody will make it to this day. That one day, there might be no one left with her to remake those memories.

She hated all of them for leaving her alone, yet she loved all of them for making those few years of her life worth living.

The graveyard has more to tell, but some stories are best kept secret from both the living and the dead bodies.

What it can never tell you is the story of two best friends, separated by the harshness and cruelty of the world, united in death, mere one year apart.

What it doesn't know is the story of the man with the broken dreams, who is now at peace, with the joy and freedom he struggled all his life to find. Who is now united with the best friend he lost all those years ago.

It doesn't know, either, the story of the sisters, who lost their lives trying to bring back the father who saved them once, and are with him together, forever.

Nor does it know the young girl, who was her younger brother's entire reason of living, but was ruthlessly killed in a violent turn of events, who is free from the world where she was never wanted.

Some things are best kept secret, as the best friends and the man with the broken dreams, and the girls and twins look down upon the people they left behind. Their students, their brothers, their friends, the living, who do not know that the dead see their acts of love and remembrance, whose love for them will never diminish, who are always so proud of them and can't wait to see them again.

But if it means they get to live the life they never did, then not knowing is best, after all. If it means they won't end their lives to end their wait, then they can wait a bit longer.

[freewilllife]

Thank you for sharing your thoughts! So far as my understanding was, Hua Cheng challenged those officials right after he exited Mount Tonglu as a supreme so that would put it a little over a decade, I guess? Additionally, Mu Qing remembers the exact wording Xie Lian asked him that day more than 800 years later (see the scene at the lava before XL rescuing him) so I do think this matters to him a lot. Like what you said about values, I agree he has these values.

That might be, but Hua Cheng was completely unknown to them. What I want to express with it: I doubt that Mu Qing somehow could have even guessed that a guy he had known a couple of hundred years before, was so crazy for Xie Lian that he had followed him for all this time.

At Mount Tounglu, Mu Qing was just as horrified, digusted and flabbergasted that Hua Cheng was that person.

By the way, this phrase was just very important for him and it was traumatic for him as well, so yes, he always remembered, but connect Hua Cheng with it? No chance.

In my opinion, accepting a challenge by a ghost king might not be considered as bullying? Why do you think it is bullying? I mean if they had issued the challenge to HC but that was not the case.

As far as I remember, the book expressed it like this...that those two, Feng Xin and Mu Qing, were not very happy to bully a new ghost, along with the remark, that they just didn´t consider this event as very important.

Also, Hua Cheng´s challenge was quite a thing: If he had been a normal ghost, it had been very likely that he might have lost at one point...with 33 gods. It´s a little bit like 33 people against one...usually, I would consider this unfair.

I did not mean that he knew what Hua Cheng was up to, my conclusion was more like: Mu Qing is still feeling guilty for how he treated Xie Lian, therefore Hua Cheng defeating those 33 officials might feel to him like fate catching up (not as an intentional thing from HC). But in that way Hua Cheng could be a reminder for him of his own guilty conscience. If that makes sense.

You misunderstand Mu Qing. He felt guilty for hurting Xie Lian´s feelings, but he considered his behaviour right. Mu Qing thought that he did not need to forfeit his chance of being a god for Xie Lian. And honestly, Mu Qing is right.

Mu Qing has a right to a life of his own and does not need to sactifice for Xie Lian´s sake.

He was Xie Lian´s servant and not his friend.

If you look back, Mu Qing merely apologized for hurting Xie Lian´s feelings, but never for the deed in and itself.

Simply because of this: Mu Qing would have considered it not justified to lose his godhood, because it was his own capabilities that let him reach this high.

I really do love Mu Qing, I wrote this down to understand him better as character, this was never intended as Mu Qing bashing in anyway! Just laying out my line of thought. I love how everyone finds their own access to the story and characters. And I'm very happy to have found a community who all care so deeply about this story.

I think it is very interesting, how everybody perceives a character like Mu Qing.

At the time Hua Cheng challenged 35 heavenly officials to a duel, did Mu Qing suspect anything? I mean he is the only one who would have been able to know what these people had in common and care about it. As there is no one he could have talked to about – with things being as they were and Mu Qing being Mu Qing – we don’t know if he suspected something. But I do believe he never stopped feeling guilty about that incidence with Xie Lian, right? And he did remember the red coral pearl earring after more than 800 years. Would he really forget about who all the other officials were on that day? Seems unlikely. So maybe he did have a weird feeling about this for a long time before he actually meets Hua Cheng accompanying Xie Lian?

Maybe he did not suspect Hua Cheng targeting them on purpose. But maybe it did feel like fate catching up to him? In that light, maybe his mistrust regarding Hua Cheng was subconsciously fueled by his own guilty conscience? Not that it needed any more fuel I guess.

Does this make sense? Or did I get lost in some weird 2 am line of thought last night?

[mrehkka]

Never posted any of my Mrehkka art here! Despite it being the character I used for my username lol

(Also forgot to note on the images, but the tail is retractable like the arms!)

so Mrehkka is from an ancient book about his life- how he went from being a simple and beloved model to Irk's greatest hero, saving them from annihilation from an invading species they used to share the planet with. .....it's also famous among other aliens for being Irk's only (surviving) love story, though in modern translations, the romantic bits are downplayed and translated out. Only those chosen to learn Classic Irken (rare) get to read the original (it's their only surviving text written in Classic, anything else has just been translated INTO Classic). No other alien knows Classic as they keep it highly classified (they use it for military abbreviations).

And as it was written in a time before PAK's, many aliens use the story to study Irken psychology and what they might be like if they didn't have PAKs.

THEN there's Squin-Zinn (sometimes spelled Squin-Zin). They are a third species that also lived on Irk back then. Also Mrehkka's lover 😌 they're the one who warned Mrehkka and his people about the incoming army. Though, they eventually regret this, as it's eventually made clear that Mrehkka will die fighting to protect everyone, and they beg him to stop and run away, but Mrehkka tells them "I would fight for you, if it meant I could die in your arms". ...which he then proceeds to do.

the story in modern Irken culture is framed as, Mrehkka died protecting his people and you should be just like that :D aaaand they kinda downplay Squin-Zinn bc they don't want anyone to end up thinking "Mrehkka fought to protect one person, and died for THEM not Irken society" bc that could be bad...

[agentc0rn]

oh man...2 decades on earth...wow.

[thedrotter]

I have a gift for y'all today !!! 😊 Ever wanted to find a line in Re:Kinder in a single place for the sake of reference?? How about multiple chunks of lines. how about all the little variations that arise in the text with it's many endings, item descriptions, text that comes from interacting with the enviroment, and character info from the menu without having to boot up the game and go through it at long minutes!!???

well i sure did😊 Since I do a lot of fanart and think up my own silly theories and thoughts that need me to reference the game lines a lot, i have made a transcript for it for convenience's sake. A weirdly thorough transcript handwritten and proofread by me including all character lines available in-game. And I'm sharing it with you all today for anyone that wants it !!! :3 To use as a reference for creative fanworks or a quick search for a line in-game, whatever you wish to use it for!!

It uses the english translation of the game by vgperson. So naturally all credit for the game lines available in here is to her and Parun who made the game.

I did my best to organize it in a way easy to digest. Do note that I'm still human, and there's still the chance for mistake in it no matter how much I've proofread it, since I'm not even an english native speaker ^^. But I hope it serves you well nonetheless if you wish to use it.

That's my gift for today!!! Not the usual art, but still a project I'm proud of. Enjoy!!! 😊

[allygatoor]

i think it's time that we as a society realized that actually eternals wasn't bad it was just not standard marvel fare and that's okay

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

looking at the dialogue i wrote up for the next comic strip and the sheer amount of sketches (sketches. not even the lineart itself) to go along with it........ at this point i may just have to start writing fanfiction. it would be a lot less tedious methinks