#and has Stayed away because she realized more issues with the world she grew up in once she left

[kerra-and-company]

prem & any of your ocs ? <:-)

Oooh, okay okay, gladly :D

Chieko has mixed emotions about Prem. On some levels/to some extent she'd understand and relate to him. At the same time, if she knows the full extent of what happened to him, she's wrestling with is this happening in my world as well to others and if I stayed (in DR) could I have helped somehow and about five million other thoughts. So...awkwardness probably? But at the same time they might vibe somewhat.

Minei would like him but also wouldn't really understand him that well. She was blessed by a god as well (Grenth, in her case) but never really felt like he was there for her in the same way Prem thought about Dwayna--in part because said blessing saved her but not her parents. Her relationship with both the Seraph and the Shining Blade would be a longer conversation, but she has reason not to ever fully trust either of them. She's adjacent to a lot of the things that Prem is/was but experienced them from a very different lens. I feel like if they tried to be friends, they might be like puzzle pieces that almost fit together but not quite.

[helplesslyblue77]

Snow White Lily

first story in the ‘fairy tales with a twist’ series i’ve started(because i like creating more work for myself...) 

Pairing: Step Dad!Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 12.6k(it got out of hand...)

Warnings: Smut, like not in full but its still there. bad parental figures, slight mommy issues, reader has some self esteem issues, also...this story has so much crying, like seriosly. 

Summary: “Years ago, your father had died and your mother had remarried. You never liked your step father, simply because he was not your real father, and you made no secret of your dislike. Many years later, your mother died and your step father became the temporary reigning monarch. You vowed the feelings you were feeling were anger, but when you fall prey to a mysterious curse you realize maybe those feelings weren't hatred after all…”

Notes: soooooo...sorry this took so long. i was originally planing to post it on the 22nd but my computer died and like a fucking moron i forgot the charger...so yeah, so sorry about that. also Reader is more than legal. i ignored the traditional marriage laws of ‘yee olden days’ in favor of not being icky. her and Chan have a age gap of about seven or eight years or so.(side note but saw the barbie movie and fucking loved it, ‘im just ken’ has been stuck in my head for days now...)

♔♕♔

Let me tell you a story dear reader. A story of love, of loss, and all that is forbidden. Let me tell you of a beautiful princess who befell a dreadful curse. Let me tell you the story of Snow White. Now you may be thinking to yourself, dear reader, “But that is ever so common. How dreadfully boring.” I beg you not to jump to such conclusions, for everything you think you know about this lovely tale is, in fact false, and the real story will only be revealed today. So I urge you to sit back and listen to my voice as I weave you a fantastical story. 

Once upon a time in a kingdom far far away lived a young woman of only sixteen. She was as beautiful, as she was kind, a true princess in her own right. Her loving father, the benevolent king of the land, doted on her. Her mother, a woman of extraordinary beauty but unpleasant disposition, could not touch her as long as the king treasured her. And thus the princess was raised with love from her father and cold indifference from her mother. Each day she became more beautiful. 

Her hair grew long and luscious, her eyes bright with knowledge, and her body grew curves as she matured. As she grew, her thirst for knowledge also grew. Much to the queen's disapproval the king allowed her to take up such thoroughly un-princess-like activities as horseback riding. The queen disproved, but to her satisfaction, the princess also enjoyed activities like embroidery and fashion, so the queen let her wild activities continue. But alas, as our princess turned upon her seventeenth year, her father the king fell deathly ill. Our heroine could only stand by and weep as her beloved father took his last breaths, as the spirits accepted him gracefully into the world of the dead.

Ragged sobs tore through your throat. Your father's hand lay on your own, still warm even though life had drained from his body only moments before. The soft silk of the king's grand bed accepted your tears wholeheartedly, soothing your wet cheeks and stinging eyes. The bed held so many memories for you. Memories of you curled up against your father's warm body as he told you story after story, all in an effort to lure you into a deep and peaceful sleep. Memories of crying in his arms as he stroked your hair and comforted you with sweet reassurances. The realization sank in that he would never embrace or gaze upon you again. 

It took a long time for your tears to stop. The palace staff let you stay at the bed, even as your father's cold dead body was removed from the silken sheets, and life in the palace resumed. Only when the golden hour sunlight poured through the stained glass windows, painting the red silk sheets and the golden bed frame dazzling colors, did you lift your tearstained face from the bed and drag yourself to your feet. You stumbled out of the king's chambers, your bare feet making barely a sound as you walked listlessly down the large corridor with the heavy stares of your ancestors weighing on your back. Your hair hung unstyled around your shoulders, your cheeks were smeared with tears and your eyes red and puffy. You were clothed only in a thin nightgown and normally you would have been scandalized. It was highly improper for a princess to wander about in her underclothes, but you were so wrought with grief you could not even bring yourself to feel shame. 

Your maids were waiting for you as you dragged open the heavy doors to your chambers. You felt their pitying stares on you but for once they didn't say a word about your disheveled state, only drawing you a bath and slipping away as silent as ghosts.

With heavy hands, you rid yourself of your only garment and slipped into the water. The pink rose petals danced across the ripples your body made as you submerged yourself completely. You closed your eyes and felt the heavy hand of despair settle over you. Tear after silent tear slipped down your cheeks, dripping into the water below. Maybe, if you continued to cry like this the gods would take pity on your sorry state and let you simply slip away, let go of this painful life and join your father in the afterlife. Such thoughts were unbecoming of a princess, but you had never been a perfect princess anyway. Too unattractive, too outspoken, nothing like your composed mother, the epitome of a perfect queen. As beautiful as a statue carved in ice and as cold as one as well. 

You knew these thoughts, these ugly self-deprecating thoughts, were not true. But with your father's passing all your insecurities were rearing their ugly heads quite akin to a many-headed monster, dead set on devouring you and only you. You closed your eyes and ever so slowly let yourself sink down until your chin was barely brushing the water. You let the comfort of the water envelope you like the warmth your father had given you, the warmth your mother would never give you. And with one last tear, you rose from the bath, water cascading off your body, and came to a grim realization.

From this day on, you were on your own. And even as the room filled with people, your maids dressing you carefully, even as the mellow chatter filled the room, you had never felt quite so alone. 

The next day your maids prepared you for the funeral. As they slipped the black dress over your head, pulled your hair into a modest bun and painted your face just enough to be suitable for such an occasion you desperately held back your tears. It was no such time for your sadness, you are a princess and to reassure your people you must look only appropriately distraught. There would be no breakdowns, no hysterical crying and screaming, none of the sort. As the maids slipped your black veil over your head and handed you the black lace fan, you take a deep breath, and shove your feelings into a deep well, one covered in moss and ivy, simply for another day. 

A sea of black greets you as you exit the castle, the air filled with the cries of thousands. The day is gray as if even mother nature is distraught. Gaunt faces torn with sadness, the silent tears of men and women, the loud cries of children who are too young to understand but sense the forlorn atmosphere and respond. You take your place on the open carriage, your father's casket laying only a few feet away from you. The casket is grand, black with gold embellishments, but you can't bring yourself to look at it. It makes it all too real. Your mother steps into the carriage, her beautiful face pulled into its usual frozen expression. Her cold gaze drags over you, and you ignore her as she tuts disapprovingly but says no more. Even she can hold her tongue when she needs to. 

The carriage starts its long trek to the royal cemetery, and you feel every rock as it bumps slowly across the road. You watch faces flash by, each hollow with a sadness you feel in your core. The ride to the cemetery is excruciating, as the sky starts to rain, big droplets that splash against the casket, and down your face. You're thankful, as it masks your tears.

The ceremony is grim, and mostly a blur. You watch as a little girl comes forward, and with small hands gently places a single white lily on the casket. More children follow, and soon the dark top of the casket was blanketed in white. Your tears are falling more frequently now, your hat and veil long gone. But these tears, instead of being pure despair, are also interspersed with gratitude. Gratitude for your kind maids, who treated you with such gentle warmth, gratitude for the looks of kindness and understanding you received from your subjects. As you finally leave the cemetery you turn back, laying eyes one final time on the grim black coffin covered in pure white lilies. Your father's favorite flowers were lilies. 

The following weeks are a blur. The world seems to continue even as you morn, and you do your best to continue along with it. Your deep loneliness is pushed to the back of your mind and you soon begin to forget it. Months pass, and soon, your eighteenth birthday approaches. You find yourself engaged to a truly dreadful man, but per your mother's request, you are unable to do a thing about it. And then one day, your life changes forever. 

The royal dining room is large, with high arching ceilings letting a draft permeate through the space. A huge crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the room, filling the large space with shadowy candlelight. Of all of the many rooms in the palace, this one has become one of your least favorites.

The large marble table is laden with food, untouched at the moment and the servants bustle around, serving wine and tidying various lighting fixtures around the room. Your mother, the star of the show, is late. You bristle, as she can't even show courtesy as the host of this sham of a party. Your mother has never been your favorite person, and as long as you have known her, those cold eyes, so dead of feeling, have always scared you.

The large doors slammed open and in waltzed your mother, her head held high. Your eyes narrow as you take in the full picture, the man escorting her to her place. He looks young, maybe eight or nine years your senior, and very handsome. With dark black hair and broad shoulders, he supported your mother as she walked across the room, pulling out the chair for her like a gentleman. Twinkling brown eyes and a sweet smile. Just your mother's type. Anger sang in your veins. How dare she bring in a cheap boy toy so soon after your father's passing. The man tried to send you a smile, but you turned, ignoring him. Your mother’s cold voice echoed in the grand hall.

“Darling, please welcome your new father.”

She didn't ask for your opinion, she simply barged ahead as she always did, as if you didn't matter. It angered you beyond belief, but it also made you feel so insignificant like you were nothing and if you simply went to sleep and never woke up, the world would continue around you, not even stopping to mourn. The room was dead silent as it awaited your response, eyes bearing down upon you. Your mother's cold expectant ones, the knowing eyes of the servants, the eyes of this new man. Emotions roiled in your gut and you stood suddenly, rattling the crockery on the table. You could tell your face was a mess, and you felt the tears start to slip down your cheeks as you ran from the room. 

You heard voices fade away as you slammed the door behind you. The worried voice of the young man and your mother's cold reply. 

“Is she feeling quite well? Was it something I did?”

“Don't mind her foolishness, she is simply a child.”

You fled down the hall, your skirts a whirl around your legs as you ran from the suffocating room. You were not a child, and most definitely not foolish, you seethed to yourself as you yanked open the doors to your chambers. 

But as you entered your room, all the explosive anger drained out of you, leaving only cold acceptance and resentment. It was childish, you mused as your stomach growled in hunger. You crashed face-first on your bed, your hair falling from its updo and pooling messily around your shoulders. 

Your mind was a mess, greatly resembling a dark and stormy ocean, a rocky shore tossed by tumultuous waves. Emotions raced through you, too fast to truly catalog. Angry thoughts of your mother's disrespect for your father's name. How could she bring this young handsome boy toy to the castle, so soon after your father's death? And to introduce him as your father? You vowed to never accept this man, to snub him at every turn and refuse to acknowledge him as your father.

(Somewhere, deep in your subconscious, you felt the vile monster of jealousy rear its head and stomp its many feet threateningly. You were jealous, jealous of your mother's goddess-like beauty, jealous of her power, and most of all, you wished the unnamed man could have been yours instead.)

♔♕♔

On that fateful day, the day your mother got remarried, you were notably absent. Your maids had searched and searched your usual hiding spots, but you were nowhere to be found. You were, in fact, in a very unprincesslike position, thrown over two bales of hay, your body bared to the heavy air of the stable. You lost your innocence to the handsome stable boy as wedding bells filled the air. And as you felt ecstasy, gripping the stable boy's broad shoulders, you couldn't really say you were sorry. At the moment at least. The lasting consequences were a bit of an inconvenience. The absence of such a notable figure, the daughter of the bride at that, sent scandalized whispers spreading around the castle. 

“The Princess did not show her face at her mother's wedding.”

“She must not accept this new man.”

The rumors didn't bother you but what did bother you was your mother's response or rather lack thereof. There was only a slight tick in her perfectly arched eyebrows as she looked down at you, picking at her long scarlet nails. You met her gaze head-on, never one to show fear to a predator. She looked over at you, taking note of your disheveled appearance, the bits of hay tangled in your long hair, the red marks scattered across your neck, and shook her head. 

She tutted disapprovingly. “Darling, if you must partake in those kinds of…” She paused, raising a perfect eyebrow delicately, “Activities…try to restrain yourself when you have official duties.”

You felt like stomping the ground, no matter how childish it was. Your mother always made you feel like this. Like a small, insignificant child, wandering about the world in dumb confusion, and not a fully grown adult woman. You opened your mouth to protest, but your mother waved a hand, dismissing you. You turned, your shoes pattering on the marble floor. You had just reached the door when she spoke last time. 

“And for god’s sake, clean yourself up.”

You slammed the door behind you and made the long trek back down the twisting halls and into your chambers.

All through the short and unpleasant meeting you had avoided meeting the eyes of your new ‘father’, but if you had dared to look, you would have noticed the pangs of hurt and disappointment flashing through his dark eyes. 

♔♕♔

Over the next few months, you did your best to avoid your new ‘father’. And soon, he gave up his little attempts to get to know you and treated you with the exhaustion of a man who accepted the fact that he was not wanted. Infuriatingly, he was never disrespectful of you, never treated you with contempt, and oh, how it angered you. It was hard to justify your hate when he was such a nice person. And so, a year passed, and then, only a few months before your nineteenth birthday, your mother died.

It was a carriage accident. She was on the way to a friend's house when the carriage was struck by lightning and thrown, burning, off the side of a cliff. It was a fitting end for your mother, fiery and dramatic.

 It was sudden, and in your opinion a much-needed breath of fresh air. Maybe you were a truly vile person for thinking this, but your mother had never truly loved you, and you most definitely had returned that hatred. But she was your mother, so even though you loathed it, you couldn't stop the few tears that fell at the funeral. 

Later that night, you go through your mother’s belongings and find a stack of leather journals, her personal diaries. Unsure of whether you want to know what these bound confessionals hold you let them sit untouched for a few hours. Finally, overcome with curiosity you open the volume marked with the earliest date and begin to read. As you read her diaries you let yourself cry in earnest. Your mother was a pitiful person, obsessed with beauty to a fault, and it in the end had doomed her, doomed her to a life of marriage to a man she didn't love, not allowed to love who she truly loved. Thinking back to the funeral you did notice the familiar and yet strange woman mourning your mother from the background. A friend your mother had called on at indecent times of the night. The pieces were beginning to fit together. You wanted to hate her, you really did, but as you read of her heartache, you felt yourself sympathizing with her. You hated that feeling, so you buried it deep in your heart, and burned the remainder of her diaries. As you watched the smoke billow into the air, you cried, your tears watering the vines choking your throat. 

 You watched in grim acceptance as Chan, your ‘father’, accepted the position of temporary monarch, at least until you got married. Truthfully, although you glared fiercely at him, you didn't mind. Being a monarch was a responsibility you were not willing and not ready to shoulder, and Chan was a fair, level-headed person. Those exact qualities were something you despised in him. It was hard to hate a man who was so easygoing and intelligent. But you hated him, you were certain of it. Every thought of him was accompanied by a pounding in your heart like the drumbeat of soldiers marching to war. When you laid eyes on him your body would flush with anger, your fists trembling and your breathing choking you with hatred. If this terrifying feeling was not hatred, you could not tell what it was. And you didn't know if you wanted to know.

♔♕♔

For the next several years, you settled into an uneasy peace, interspersed with dramatic fiery fights that left you running away from it all, on your favorite horse, and disappearing for hours on end. You would always ignore Chan’s worried face when you got back, intent on hating him.

You embroidered, chatted with your friends, rode your horse about the pastures, and begrudgingly met with your dreadful fiance. And just like that, four long years had passed and you were nearing your twenty-fourth birthday when Chan summoned you into his study.

You hated his study, hated how cozy he had made it with warm red curtains and dark cherry wood surfaces, hated the faint smell of woodfire, and Chan's deep musky scent that made you heat up with what you were sure was anger. You avoided this room of the castle at all costs, but even you could not ignore a direct summons, so you stood before him, avoiding his eyes. 

“Name, please sit.”

He waved his hand and you wanted to refuse, but you valued your comfort over your stubborn nature so you sat across from him on the red satin couch, munching away at a few biscuits and avoiding his eyes. You watch Chan’s hands as he places you a cup of tea in front of you, and pours his own. You take a deep breath, the sweet scent of jasmine, your favorite tea, filling your nostrils. Chan sighed, the breath gusting out from between his plump lips as he spoke. 

“I hear you did not attend your usual meeting with your fiance.” You do your best to portray your annoyance with your face as you speak, still not meeting his eyes. 

“Lord Brandish is dreadfully boring and dull, I just could not stand to speak with him again.”

Chan sighs a sigh of frustration, one that only you can manage to pull out of his mouth, and sets his teacup down on the wooden surface of the table. He looks at you and you hate the disappointment leaking from his eyes. 

“Name, you are nearing your twenty-fourth year already, soon it will be time for you to get married and take over rulership of this kingdom.” 

You hate how level-headed and smart he sounds, and how in comparison you sound like a dumb immature child. What makes it worse is the way he handles you, so patient even after you treated him with such disrespect. You slam your tea cup on the table, the hot tea sloshing over your fingers. You hiss at the burn and Chan rushes to your side, his strong hands grasping your own.

“Name are you alright? Does it hurt?”

His hands are big, much bigger than your own, and the comforting warmth envelopes you, spreading from your hands all throughout your body. The warmth scares you, but in a moment of weakness, you let him caress your hands gently, smoothing ointment onto the burns. It takes a moment, but Chan meets your eyes, perhaps wondering why you haven't yanked your hands away and stormed off. You find yourself wondering the same thing and hurriedly yank them away, settling as far away from him as you can. He seems to sink in on himself, returning to his seat and clearing his throat. 

“As I was saying, you cannot miss these appointments, they are vital to your future relationship with your fiance…”

He continues on, and you tune him out, your anger slowly building. How dare he, who is he to command you like this? As usual, anger is your first reaction, and you brandish it both as a shield and a sword.

“I refuse to go.”

Chan stops, his eyes meeting your own, and waves his hand around.

“Name, you're being childish. You must continue to go—”

You interrupt, your heart beating in your ears. 

“I refuse!” 

You hate your fiance, hate his crude remarks, his overall poor attitude, and the way his slimy hands feel up your thighs at every opportunity. Lord Brandish is a truly vile man, but of course, he puts on his mask, playing the part of the perfect gentleman in front of Chan and your servants. 

Lord Brandish appeared to them a perfect man, as handsome as he was kind, and they simply could not understand your animosity towards him. And to you, you would never tell. The mere thought made you feel pathetic, running to your ‘father’, admitting you could not solve all your problems on your own. It felt like weakness, and you hated weakness. So you bottled it up and did your best to treat him with absolute contempt, hoping maybe, he would just refuse to marry you. Sadly, that day had not come. 

Chan threw his hands up in exasperation, as you continued on. Your voice trembled embarrassingly as you jumped to your feet. 

“Who are you, how can you make me go?”

You could see he was finally losing his patience as he stood as well, his hands waving annoyed patterns in the air. 

“Name, I don't understand why you can't just listen to me for once!”

You are yelling by now, your usual defense mechanism, anger, spewing out of your painted lips like knives, flying at their target and embedding themselves deep in his chest. 

“I can't! I won't!”

Your words are basically nonsense, the emotions you had buried deep in your heart, all those tears you had refused to let fall, years and years of loneliness and resentment crawling their way out of your heart. Akin to ugly black vines, the leaves long withered, and dead, weaving their way up your body, tearing through your internal organs, and exploding out of your mouth in ugly sobs. You bite the sobs back, they were a weakness. 

Anger is burning in Chan's eyes. The two of you had indeed had fights before, but for some reason, this particular fight felt different. There was a quality in the air, floating around the two of you like a deadly wind, disturbing everything it touches. You were basically in hysterics by now, hands clutching and tearing at your necklace, and it was no longer about the conversation, no longer about Lord Brandish. This was about something much deeper, something darker, something you weren't ready to talk about yet. 

The vines were back, tearing at your throat and teeth, and in a moment of weakness, you let them out. All your resentment tearing out of your mouth in three final words.

“I hate you.”

They were words you had never dared to say, never quite believed, and the moment they left you, the moment you looked up and saw his face, the anger melted out of you and you burst into tears. It was all too much, the pain on his face, the way he stumbled back slightly, the way his hand trembled as he reached for you. The tears were still burning a hot path down your cheeks, staining the collar of your dress dark with water. You felt pathetic and small, and most of all, you knew at that moment that you didn't hate Chan. You thought it would feel good to finally say those words out loud, that it would feel like a relief. Instead, the feeling that ran through you was regret. The vines that had poured out of your mouth were suffocating you, and all you wanted to do was cry and cry until it all went away. 

You were still so young, so immature, and you felt so, so regretful. You were drowning in your tears, you were suffocating in your clothes and you just wished it would all go away.

Warm arms enveloped you, pulling you into a hard chest, caressing your hair roughly. You began to cry harder, the words coming out jumbled and croaky. 

“Chan, I apologize. I never meant it, I just—”

His deep voice interrupted your choked apologies, his hands rubbing soothing circles in your back. 

“Shhh, I know. I know.”

His kindness, his ever-present kindness, just made your tears fall faster, your hands knotting in the back of his shirt.

“You are just so kind, and I was so horrible to you and I apologize—”

He just stroked your back soothingly, murmured nothing into your hair, and let you cry, years' worth of emotions wetting the thin fabric of his undershirt. It felt good to cry, and those horrible dead vines wrapped around your throat slowly loosened, falling gently around your shoulders, and turning a brilliant vibrant green. Leaves sprouted and you cried and cried, until the sun sank below the distant hills, and you found yourself still laying in his arms, embraced on the floor. It had been so long since you had felt a touch of comfort, and you would have compared it to the times your father had held you like this, but for some strange reason, it didn't quite feel like that.

It felt comforting of course, but you also felt strange. Your cheeks flushed pink, your heart pounding against your ribcage. You had always assumed this strange feeling was rage, but maybe…

You hurriedly put a stop to that line of thought. For now, you should do your best to make it up to Chan and enjoy your time with your ‘father’.

♔♕♔

Over the next few weeks, you spent more and more time with Chan. The two of you would eat each meal together, and you found that he was actually very pleasant company. You found he shared your love of horse riding and promptly planned a picnic. The servants cooed over your relationship, most of them just grateful you were both happy, although you had heard strange whispers and giggles from the maids every time you interacted. You asked them, but they had just giggled and ran off. It was strange but you were too happy to dwell on it as you anticipated your picnic. 

It was a beautiful day for a picnic, the sun smiling down and the wind tossing your hair around your head gracefully. Your favorite horse, Pearlie whinnied and reared playfully into the air as you stroked her pure white coat. 

Pearlie was a beautiful white mare, gifted to you on your fifteenth birthday by your father. You took one look at her pure white coat and promptly named her Pearlie. Your father had dissolved in laughter and patted your head reassuringly. 

Pearlie was docile and playful, and you adored her with your entire being. Her long white main blew gently in the wind, the sun bouncing off her gold embroidered saddle and almost blinding you. You patted her reassuringly.

“Just wait a minute more Pearlie, it's almost time.”

A cough sounded behind you and you whip around, your eyes coming to rest on Chan. Your breath caught in your throat. He looks positively radiant, clothed in a thin white shirt and tight black pants, his hand grabbing the reins of a gorgeous black stallion. His brown curls blew gently in the breeze, he smiled at you, his dimples peeking out. You felt your heart heating up and again, your heart beating insistently in your chest, bumping against your ribcage and begging to be let out, if only to jump into his arms. Much like you wanted to do. A flash of gold caught your eyes and you looked down, blushing as naked flesh graced your eyes. The front of his shirt was undone, and a bit of fair peck peaked out at you. A golden pendant hung around his neck, swaying gently as he walked, drawing your eyes towards its golden glow and the swaths of skin available for your eyes to devour. You hurriedly yanked your eyes away and mounted your horse. Chan joined you, pulling his black stallion up next to yours. He smiled and your heart felt like it would simply rip from your chest and leave you cold and dead. 

“Ready to depart?”

You managed a nod and urged Pearlie into a trot. You let the wind cool your heated cheeks, let it caress your face and toss your hair, and all too soon, you had arrived at your destination.

The lake was special, a spot you had discovered one day, running from your mother's wrath. The sunlight bounced off the pure blue surface, and the trees around it were such vibrant greens, rivaled only by the bright wildflowers littering the ground. The air was warm, and butterflies scattered as you dropped to the ground, Chan following suit.

He let out a noise of amazement. “This place is extraordinary.”

You smiled, happy that he thought so too. “Isn't it? It's my special place.”

You were busy laying out the blanket and missed the look he sent you, so full of happiness tinged only with a slight flavor of longing. 

You plopped down on the blanket, and he joined you, laying out the spread of treats. Small bite-size sandwiches, little cakes and pies, and a large pitcher of iced jasmine tea. It made your mouth water and you delicately picked up a small raspberry pie, taking a bite. Your teeth sank into the flaky pie crust, the slightly tart filling making your taste buds sing in delight. You let out a moan of satisfaction as you finished the treat, reaching for another as Chan laughed. 

“You like raspberries?”

You nod, your mouth full, and swallow a delicious bite. “The kitchen really outdid itself.” It is a picturesque afternoon, and in no time at all the large spread of food is long gone and the both of you are laying back, letting the breeze play gently with your clothes and gazing into the pure blue sky. Birdsong fills the air, and you can see butterflies darting around from flower to flower, never stopping for too long. Faintly, you think you can hear bees buzzing in the distance, and sure enough, across the lake, you spot a bees nest, hundreds of bees buzzing around it, little soldiers devoted to their work. The smell of nature fills your nostrils, wispy clouds arching gracefully and the sun blazing a path across the blue, blue sky. 

Chan breaks the peaceful silence, clearing his throat before speaking. “I am really glad we could do this.”

You nod, turning your body to face him, your arm squishing uncomfortably below your side. He looks positively radiant beside you, beaming at you, his dimples doing horrible things to your heart. You cough and reply. “I'm sorry, I was stubborn.”

Chan sits up, waving his hand in protest. “No, Name I didn't mean—”

You sit up as well, your hair falling around your shoulders and tickling your bare skin. It all just feels so carefree, you feel a smile carving its way across your face. 

“I know, Chan. I know how kind and forgiving you are.” You take a deep breath, stealing yourself to let your emotions show. “I should have noticed earlier. I took my irrational anger out on you and I apologize.”

You're not used to apologizing, and you know your dialogue sounds stiff and formal, but you can't quite think of another way to get it out. 

Chan moves to protest, but in a moment of ill-advised boldness, you place a finger gently on his plump lips, bringing his words to a sharp halt. 

“Chan. Let me apologize for this at least.”

He nods, and your hand falls reluctantly from his lips, finger hot from the contact. You're left looking at him, your eyes staring deep into his own deep brown ones and falling down, down, down. The world around you disappears, the birdsong fading away to nothing until all you can see is his face, highlighted by the sinking sun, his tousled brown hair, and those disastrous dimples disappearing as his smile fades, his eyes dipping from your own to focus on your lips. You're frozen in time, filled with a longing you finally understand. Those symptoms you for so long assumed were hatred were in fact desire. You long for his touch, for his warmth, and shamefully, for his love. The metaphorical vines curled lovingly around your neck begin to bloom, white lilies falling from their stems and plopping into your lap. The sun suddenly seems to shine just a little brighter, the leaves seem a more vibrant green, and the birdsong returns, louder and more beautiful than ever. You are floating, dancing in your happiness, the relief of realization rendering your body light, and now you're soaring, dancing on the cloud tops, but then, you fall. The guilt pours in, guilt over your love, your love of your mother's husband, a man who probably still devoted himself to her, even in her passing. And you know you could never compare to your mother, her beautiful face still etched in your mind, her cold expression glaring at you from her perch on the wall, her face immortalized in a royal portrait, frame made of solid gold. And you know, that you can never have this man, the man you want and have wanted for longer than you were willing to admit to yourself. And with that, the sun sinks below the hills, and the vibrant colors leak out of your surroundings. You break eye contact, turning away and standing up. 

Chan jumps to his feet. “Time to go?”

You nod, forcing a smile, and grip Pearlies reins in your hand. You turn, away from Chan and gaze out over the lake. This spot will be forever intertwined with bittersweet memories, a place where you came to realize your unrequited, very forbidden love. A heavy warm hand lands on your shoulder and you turn, Chan's worried face greeting your own. You find yourself mesmerized by his lips as he speaks. 

“Name, are you alright?” He scratched the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically and adorably shy. You took a deep breath and put on a smile. “I'm fine Chan, just a little tired.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying your face, and you did your best not to feel a little self-conscious. But then, he was done and you turned away, mounting Pearlie as he jumped atop his black steed, and you set off back to the castle. 

The ride back was silent, the orange glow of the sunset bathing the hills in fire, and the fireflies had come out to play. It was a beautiful scene, but you couldn't bring yourself out of your somber mood and the two of you rode home in tense silence. 

♔♕♔

Later that night, as your maids bustled about, lighting the lanterns one by one until the room was bathed in candlelight, you noticed the strange new addition to the room. A large mirror. Your head maid noticed where your eyes were going and helpfully chimed in. 

“Was your mother”s, she left it to you.”

You frowned. It didn't look like anything your mother would own. It was old, the glass slightly foggy and no matter how you strained your eyes, you could not make out a reflection. The rim of the mirror was gaudy, gold with inlaid jewels, and for some reason, as you stared at it you got the unpleasant sensation of eyes on you, watching you as you crept closer. 

You stretched a shaking hand out, and just as your fingers brushed against the surface, the fog within the mirror began to swirl violently. You jumped, pulling the offending hand back and clutching it to your chest as the fog congealed, coming together until a face was visible. You looked away hurriedly. It wasn't as if the face was ugly, no, you would rather describe it as unnerving. It was a woman, her face what you could only call perfection, and it was a woman who you knew far too well. Your mother's perfect face stared back at you, immortalized inside this strange mirror even as her corpse rotted in the graveyard far from the castle. The maids were gone now, and as you stepped closer to the mirror a breeze came in through your open window, ruffling your silk nightgown and tossing your hair. The woman in the mirror spoke first, but the voice that exited its perfectly painted mouth was not your mother’s, no, it was a strange amalgamation of voices, male and female, blending together in a truly unpleasant way. 

“You must be my new master.”

The face in the mirror moved as it spoke, almost as if your mother was here in front of you again, and you hated it. You responded, trying to hastily tidy your unruly hair. You always felt so small next to your mother, so small and unattractive. 

“Your master?”

The face in the mirror never changed, no emotion ever crossed its stone-cold face and the longer you stared at it the more dazed you felt, as if a heavy fog was suddenly blanketing your mind. The world seemed to fade away and all you could see was the mirror. The mirror spoke again, its words cutting like ice, pulling your insecurities out of your mind and weaponizing them against you. 

“You can be the object of his affection.”

Every emotion was heightened, and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes as a sudden and intense desperation enveloped you and you rushed forward, gripping the sides of the mirror.

“Tell me! Tell me this instant!”

Your voice sounded desperate even to your ears but for some reason you didn't care. The mirror’s perfect face curved into a stunning smile, as its ruby lips parted one final time, and a poem fell from them. 

You repeat the first line of the poem as you exit the castle, your heels clicking much too loudly on the cobblestone path. 

“Enter the woods, under moonlight so bright…” You lift your eyes to the sky and breathe in relief as the moon decides to peek out from behind the clouds, lighting the path in front of you. 

You were always told never to enter the woods, and you hear the words echoing in the back of your mind, but the strange fog in your brain quickly blankets it, and you step off the cobblestones and onto the well-worn path into the woods. You reach into your pocket, pulling out a compass as you recite the next few lines in the poem. 

“A choice will be yours, surrender tonight, Walk to the north, not south or not west.” The woods are dark, the trees foreboding, their branches reaching desperately toward the moonlight. It's silent, unnervingly silent as you walk off the beaten path, your shoes touching damp grass, padding softly across its surface, and leaving crushed beaten grass in your wake. Not a sound crosses your lips, as you walk on, through the large trunks of huge black trees. You look at the little paper where you hastily scrawled the mirror's words, and read the next line.

“Until in a grove, she grants your request…”

Sure enough, ahead of you, your eyes catch on a break in the trees. The dark trees gave way to green moss and stones, and the moonlight poured into the clearing, illuminating the strange statue in the center. It's made of a peculiar black stone and almost shines by itself. It's big, much taller than you and the edges are rough, like it was hastily carved. It mesmerizes you, as you stare deep into the black interior you suddenly feel the urge to touch it. You move your hand, almost in a trance, and brush the rough surface. The surface is smooth, and ice cold, and as your fingers leave its surface it begins to melt away slowly, black goo melting off its surface and sizzling into the ground. The goo swirls, and the ground below it seems to melt away until a shining glass statue is revealed. The statue is large, almost your height, and of a woman. Her face is covered with a strange mask, round and smooth and without any features at all, her hair cascades down her shoulders, reaching all the way to the ground. She is clothed in a skin-tight gown, with a revealing slit up the side. Her feet are bare upon the grass. In her hand, she holds a single object, a shining golden apple. The paper in your hand flutters to the ground, long forgotten as you stare wide-eyed at the apple. Its shimmering surface mesmerizes you and you find yourself reaching out, and gripping its smooth surface in your hand. 

It's cold, and as you bring it to your lips, you have the vaguest feeling of foreboding. In the back of your disordered mind, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Chan, screaming at you to stop, to put the apple back and turn, leaving the woods for good. But the mirror's promise echoes in your mind and you open your mouth, taking a single bite of the apple. The skin is thin, the flesh just the right amount of sweet and tart. The apple is delicious, and as you chew it, you suddenly hunger desperately for more. Your gaze zeros in on the apple and you bring it to your lips again, but just like that, it slips from your hand. You look around in confusion, only for your vision to start to fade around the edges, your hands are suddenly limp and as your consciousness fades, you have one clear realization. 

“I should have never listened to that mirror.”

The last sensation you feel is the soft grass beneath your legs, as you fall gently to the ground, and slip into a dark, dreamless sleep.

♔♕♔

Something was wrong. Chan could feel it, even as the clock ticked on endlessly, as the words scrawled on documents began to blur over, as you waltzed through his mind, your smile consuming his every thought. It was unhealthy, and so, so wrong. This woman, this young, beautiful, and when he had enjoyed the chance to know you, kind woman was someone he could never even touch. This woman who he lived too close to, was a woman forever out of his desperate hands, a woman he could never have, never kiss. The thought killed him. And that was why Chan took the long journey to your room, down the dark empty halls, past the portraits that judged his every move, and knocked quietly on your door. It was late, he knew that. Much too late for him to be visiting you, and Chan felt his face heating up as he realized how improper it looked. Him, a young man, visiting a young woman in the dead of night. But, he reassured himself as he stood in front of your door, his first thoughts had been innocent, a desire to talk to you, to laugh with you, even if his later thoughts had turned less proper. 

The silence worried him, and he knocked again, harder. The door cracked open, light pouring into the dark hallway and Chan frowned. You were up? At this hour? He realized how hypocritical that sounded, here he was, awake and trying to visit you, but in his defense, he hadn't been thinking of anything besides your smile. The smile he had glimpsed this afternoon, shining like the sun after rainfall. Chan had thought he might die. You looked radiant among the flowers, a forest fairy masquerading as a human, a being so perfect and radiant he might die if he dared to lay a hand on her skin. He truly wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. Your smile was like the sun peeking its way from behind the clouds after a storm, the storm of your hatred. Chan never wanted to be on the receiving end of your hatred ever again. 

He pushed the door cautiously, and peaked around it, taking in the fully lit candles and the strange mirror standing in the corner of the room. He stepped inside, taking the opportunity to look around your room, usually a forbidden place for him. Your room was large, with high sloping ceilings giving it a breezy feel. Your window was open, curtains flapping in the wind, and the moonlight poured into the room, illuminating the white sheets on your bed. 

Your perfectly made bed. Your dreadfully empty bed. 

Chan ran to the window, his heart pounding in his chest. What was going on, where had you gone at this late hour? He feared the worst, even as he leaned out the window, and spotted the imprints in the grass. Footsteps. His body froze, ice water coating his insides and dread in his thoughts. Where could you be going at such a late hour. He prayed you had not headed into the woods. The woods were home to many things, some good, some terrifying, and the thoughts of what could happen to you turned his mind to stone. You were the  woman he loved above all else, he could not let you die. Chan knew it was illogical. He should have waited until morning, gathered an armed search team, and departed into the woods, but he could not help the way he ran down the stairs, and flung open the castle doors, running barefoot into the woods. 

Alas, his searching was for nothing, because as he stumbled back in the morning, sleep deprived and emotional, he still had not found you.

♔♕♔

And thus, six uneasy days passed. Chan pulled together a search team. He insisted on coming along, even if the head butler protested, and the team of strong volunteers turned the woods upside down in search of you. Night after sleepless night passed, and the dark circles under Chan’s eyes grew and grew. The servants whispered, their concern for their employers spread to the townsfolk and finally on the morning of the seventh day, they received a tip from a huntsman. A tip that told of a woman, asleep in a glass coffin, deep in the woods.

Armed with this information, they stumbled through the woods, exhausted men led by their relentless king, a man driven by a love he didn't even realize. And as the sun set on the seventh day, Chan found you.

The clearing was bathed in the rays of the dying sun, the light illuminating the intricate glass coffin taking up the center of the clearing. And laid in that coffin, still as death was you, still clothed in your white nightgown, hands crossed gently over your chest, holding a perfectly preserved golden apple. Chan feared the worst, stumbling to the coffin with a cry and throwing it open. His hands desperately felt for a pulse. Fear poured over his heart, as he felt nothing…

…a pulse, faint but definitely there. Chan collapsed to his knees, his head falling against the edge of the coffin, his hands desperately clutching the glass sides, and cried.

And that's how the rest of the search team found him, crouched against the glass coffin, tears streaming down his cheeks, knees grass-stained and dirty, looking nothing like the king he was, only a man brought to the ground with relief. 

They moved you to the castle, careful not to disturb you, and laid you to rest in your bed. Only then did Chan allow himself to sleep, although his dreams were nightmares, plagued with you, encased in glass, dead to this world. He awoke the next morning and rushed to you, certain you were awake but when he arrived in your room, took in your form, now changed into a white silk nightgown, still fast asleep. The maids shook their heads, and he rushed to your side, desperately calling your name. He tried and tried, but you remained as silent as death, faint pulse the only evidence that you were even alive, and he finally collapsed, sinking into a chair the maids had provided and taking your cold hand in his own. He took you in, your hair, now washed courtesy of the maids, fanning around your head, your eyes closed, lashes kissing your cheeks, your pretty mouth, open slightly as you breathe. Your skin was cold to the touch, and you made barely a sound in the room, cold and silent as death.

Cold and silent as your mother had been. 

Chan was never in love with your mother, and in turn, she had never loved him. It had been like a contract for her, to hide her secret lover from the public. She said lover, but Chan was not sure your mother could truly love anymore if the way she treated you was any indication. 

Chan still remembered the day the queen had shown up to his small house, in all her royal glory, and asked him to marry her. He had agreed, if only to support his siblings, and moved into the castle. He remembered the day he had met you, a woman so beautiful and full of life, so bright as she glared at him, so angry as she ignored him, such an opposite of the woman he married. He had admired you since the day he met you, your glowing beauty seemed to light up the room, your smile like the sun after a rainy day. Even your anger was vibrant, so much better than your mother's cold treatment of all living things. But soon he hungered for more. He longed to be on the receiving end of your smiles, to no longer be subject to your hatred. And then, one day, his wish had come true. After years and years of receiving your glares, one of your brilliant smiles had been reserved specifically for him. Not for the stable boy you favored, not for the new butler who the maids gossiped about, not even for your gossipy friends who smirked in his direction, no, this smile was reserved simply for him. It was karma, he decided, that the night after he received such a privilege, you disappeared for seven days, and then refused to wake up. 

Chan brought your ice-cold hand to his lips and pressed one gentle kiss upon your soft skin. Tears fell silently down his cheeks and dropped onto your hand. Chan prayed your fingers would twitch, that your eyes would flutter, and then open slowly, that your skin would warm and the color would return to your cheeks, but alas, no such thing happened. Your eyes remained closed, your skin remained cold, and the only thing he felt was a tap on his shoulder. The doctor had arrived. 

♔♕♔

The only sound in the room was the flip of paper, the rustling of pages turning. Chan glanced up from his book, hoping that your eyes would open, but alas you remained as still as ever. The doctor had come and gone, unable to do a thing, and the maids, having grown tired of his constant staring, had provided him with some books to occupy his mind, at least until the next doctor came to visit. Much to his chagrin, he had found himself being sucked into the world of the characters. He found himself sympathizing more and more with the main character, a man who was in love with a woman he could not have. He turned the pages eagerly, absorbed every word, and found the world melting away. He understood John, the main character in the novel, as he pinned over Elain, the young woman he loved and soon the characters were no longer John and Elaine, but they became Chan and you, and he imagined every interaction as you and him. It helped him escape, helped him hold hope that one day you would wake up and interact with him again. 

The book had a happy ending. John and Elaine got married and moved into John's large house together. Chan felt satisfied as he put down the book, leaning back in his chair. He could picture your wedding. You would look stunning in white, just as you looked now. And he would watch you walk down the aisle, smiling from ear to ear. Your vows would be exchanged, and you would retreat to the wedding bedroom. Chan felt his cheeks heat up, but he continued with his fantasy even as he glanced around nervously. There you lay, asleep and peaceful on the bed. He could not dare to do such a thing in front of your sleeping form, so he stood up and turned the chair around. It was much better to face a wall and do such a thing as touch himself thinking of you, right in front of your sleeping face. He still felt like a degenerate as he imagined the scene. 

You would tease him, you liked to tease. He could imagine it now, your first layer of skirts falling gently to the floor, leaving you only in your thin underlayer. He could see your nipples, perky and rubbing against the fabric. 

Chan gulped, palming himself slightly over his pants. It was embarrassing how quickly he rose to hardness, over a simple fantasy. 

You would let the last layer fall, and sit on the bed, your perfect body on display for his greedy eyes. He watched as you smirked, spreading your legs and bearing your core for his eyes. Chan gulps as you beckon him forward, falling to his knees before your core. 

The Chan in reality refuses to actually pull himself out of his pants, electing instead to press harder, his palm doing its best in the circumstances as he falls back into his fantasy. 

You grip his hair, smirking down at him, and with enough force to startle, shove his face into your—

A knock sounds on the door, interrupting his dirty fantasies and Chan hurriedly does his best to hide his hardness, pulling himself as the maids lead the next doctor in. If they notice his disheveled appearance and how the chair is now facing the wall, they don't say a thing. 

♔♕♔

For the next few days, the castle was abuzz with worry. The news spread fast, and soon villagers were lining up with gifts. Everything from jewelry to a bouquet of wildflowers given to him by a small girl, who sobbed and asked if the princess would wake up. Chan did his best to reassure her, even if on the inside he felt like crying. 

He summoned every doctor he could, but none of them seemed to have an answer. You seemed to be stuck in time. You didn't need to eat, or drink, and you didn't change one bit, from the moment they found you laying inside that glass coffin, deep in the woods. Hours turned to days and you didn't wake up. Chan despaired. He posted desperate notices around the kingdom, begging for any information regarding endless sleep. He tried any and every doctor he could, he prayed to any god available, but alas, nothing. 

Days turned to weeks, and the word seemed to move on around him, even as you slept, so beautiful but so lifeless, and even as Chan despaired. He did his best and ran the kingdom like he was supposed to, but everyone could tell his heart wasn't in it. His eyes looked glazed and distant, and he spent all his free time sitting by your bed, holding your hand. The villagers and nobles cooed at his dedication, calling it the love story of the century, but the servants did their best to keep the rumors from him. A month passed, and Chan feared you would never wake again. He was so close to giving up, when one day, a strange woman entered the palace, and with her dirty robes, she brought his hope. 

The woman appeared old, but with witches, you could never be so sure. She smiled at Chan, looking calm and complacent, a sharp difference from Chan’s harried look. She was wearing a long red dress, a woolen cloak covering most of her body. When she first appeared, it had been covered in mud, but between the time she had entered the door and Chan had brought her to your room, the cloak looked brand new. 

Chan spoke first. “Do you think you can help her? She won't wake up and I don't know what to do anymore—”

The witch raised a manicured finger, and Chan stopped talking, effectively shushed. The witch spoke, and her voice echoed in your large chambers, years younger than her appearance. 

“I'll see what I can do.”

Chan blinked, and when he looked back at her, she had de-aged, looking closer to thirty than ninety. Her blond hair, cut in a sharp bob at her chin, peaked out from her hood as she smiled at him. Witches and their disguises. Her blue eyes lined heavily with black, took in the situation and Chan watched nervously as she walked to the bed where you lay, still as cold and silent as ever before. She looked at you for a second, her eyes scanning your features, frozen in time before her eyes moved to the golden apple, sitting inconspicuously on your small bedside table. Chan frowned as she picked it up, turning it around in her hands, her nails filed to lethal sharp points, and painted a dangerous red. He had never given the apple much thought, too concerned with your state, but as she turned it around he noticed the one, small bite, perfectly preserved, on one side. 

Chan can't help himself, he rushes forward. 

“Is that what it is? Is she poisoned? Is she never going to…”

He can't bear to say it and lets the sentence trail off. The witch stares at him for a moment, chewing something in her mouth, before she takes pity on his sorry state and sets the apple down, turning to him. 

“Yes, cursed apple. But…”

She turns and walks to the strange mirror that had been sitting in the corner of your room. Chan watches in horror as she lifts a pointy heeled shoe, and gracefully kicks the mirror. The surface shatters, the pieces clattering to the ground like rainfall, and Chan opens his mouth to protest but shuts it as he watches. 

The pieces have risen in the air, distorting and twisting until they crash to the earth, and with a strange howl, one that sounds a lot like despair and fills his soul with sadness, they vanish. The room seems automatically lighter, like a disturbing presence has been removed from the room, and Chan suddenly felt a bit more optimistic. The witch turned to him with a sigh, tossing the apple in the air. Chan watched it spin, slightly mesmerized. 

“Alright, it seems like that vile mirror convinced your lover to depart into the woods and eat this apple.”

Chan frowned, questions spilling from his mouth. 

“How did the mirror do that? What kind of mirror was it and why would it do that? Also—”

The witch held up a hand, silencing him as the apple spins in the air again, coming to rest in her manicured hand. 

“It's a cursed mirror. A vile human soul, doomed to trick unsuspecting people into death.”

How did such a thing end up in your possession? He can only imagine the horrible thoughts it must have put into your head. Chan’s horror must show on his face because she chuckles a little as she continues. 

“It must have played on her insecurities, impersonated a person she feared or respected, and convinced her to go into the woods.”

The witch moved over to the window as she spoke, and drew her arm back, and with all her might, threw the golden apple into the sunlight. It spuns in the air for a moment, before it exploded with a bang, disappearing into thin air. Chan staired. The witch laughed.

“That apple,” She said, dusting her hands of imaginary dirt. “Is a cursed item. It's the usual thing,”

The witch held up two fingers, and pitched her voice, mimicking someone. “Cursed to sleep until she receives true loves kiss,’ it's so cliche but some witches still rely on the old stuff—”

“True love’s kiss?”

The witch looked at him like he was stupid. “Yes, true love's kiss. Should be easy for you.”

She pulled the hood of her cloak up, and Chan watched as wrinkles grew on her fair skin, her hair turned a dark gray, and she aged about fifty years. Her voice was still clear and young when she spoke. “Unfortunately, I have to go.” she waved an old wrinkled hand and smirked at him. “Good luck.”

And with that, she was gone, like she was never even there, leaving Chan to deal with the bombshell of a declaration she dropped on his head. 

Chan deliberated long and hard about this dilemma, his brain in conflict with his heart, worry constantly etched across his handsome face. He knew his kiss would work, he loved you more than he thought he had loved anything before. But as much as he longed to press his lips to yours, he was too afraid of the consequences, afraid of what would happen when his kiss worked and you opened your eyes. Afraid of the disdain that would cross your face once you realize your stepfather had inappropriate feelings for you. The thought of your face carved into a mask of disgust made his heart ache desperately in his chest, but he would rather live a life with your hatred than live a life without you entirely. 

He sank into the chair beside your bed and turned his eyes on your still form. You were so beautiful, but silent and cold as a statue and Chan longed for anything, your laughter, your screams, even your sobs, anything but this cold shell of a woman laying deathly still on the bed. Your lips, slightly parted in sleep, taunted him. Blushed a pretty pink, curved and sultry and teasing him even now. You were a temptress incarnate, and Chan would do his best to resist your charms until the very end. You were carefree, wild and the exact opposite of your mother, and as a result you had no shortage of admirers. Your fiance, who in Chan's opinion was a jerk, the stable boy, a handsome new butler, a young lord at a ball. And some of them, you favored them back, disappearing off for secret trists that your mother had scoffed at and Chan wished desperately that he was one of those men you snuck off with. He still remembered the fateful time he had accidentally heard you, panted moans and pretty cries painting a forbidden picture. You sounded so beautiful, and Chan had longed desperately that he was the one teasing those sounds out of you, not some upstart young lord. He was ashamed at the way he leaned against the wall, guiltily listening to your symphony of sounds, unable to bring himself to leave until you reached your high, sneaking off to take care of himself. It was a shameful memory, one he blushed at even now, even as he desperately prayed to any god available, and leaned forward, pressing his lips to your own in a chaste kiss. A kiss so full of longing, a forbidden taste of something he could only pine for, a woman constantly out of his reach. 

♔♕♔

The world was a sea of black. It stretched forever, all you could see. Your body felt weightless, and you blinked, looking around for something, anything. But there was nothing. You faintly remembered an apple, a mirror, and then the sensation of falling, but your memory after that was blank. You decided to walk forward, looking for anything. Your feet made no sound as you pattered across the nothingness, and after what seemed like only a few minutes, your vision began to waver. You felt a creeping sensation on your back, and a voice you could not hear urged you to run, run away from the thing behind you. You knew subconsciously that if it caught you, you would never wake up. And so you ran. 

You flew, your desire to wake propelling your feet, even as your throat begged for water and your legs burned. Somewhere in the distance, you saw light, and in front of that light, a figure. A familiar figure, a figure of a man you loved with all your heart. You ran and ran, and the Chan in the distance held out a hand that you longed to grab. Your feet moved impossibly faster, and you practically flew towards him, even as the sound of slithering behind you grew louder, the creeping sensation sending shivers up your spine. And as you came into the light, as you grabbed his bigger hand in your own, as he pulled you into a warm hug, the world around you faded. The strange dreamscape blurred, and you opened your eyes to the familiar colors of the ceiling, in your private chambers. You blinked, and looked around, your eyes catching on the figure seated beside your bed. Chan looked haggard, his eyes were highlighted by dark circles and his hair was a mess, but the relief in his eyes trumped it all. Your mouth felt dry as you opened it to speak. 

“I'm hungry.”

You watched in confusion as tears slipped from Chan's eyes, and he tackled you on the bed, hugging you tight to his chest. You fell back against the bed, your back hitting the silky covers as pounds of muscle crashed onto you, suffocating you in his embrace. You melted into it, albeit a little confused, and stoked his large back as he cried into your nightgown. Your voice cracked as you spoke again. 

“What's wrong?”

The door crashed open, and your head maid and bedroom maids crashed into the room. As soon as they lay eyes on you they were running to the bed, tears running down their faces. You were beyond confused but no one bothered to answer your questions. It took a long time for everyone to stop crying, and the maids promptly heard your complaint and brought you a bowl of warm soup and bread. Chan, still sniffling, sat in the chair by your bed and looked deliciously disheveled and desperate. You munched happily on your food as the castle staff piled into your room, and answered their questions.

Chan asked the first question. 

“Why did you go into the woods?”

You remembered the thoughts that had sent you into the woods, and now that you thought back on them it seemed oftly extreme. It seemed the mirror might have been the cause of them. You chewed thoughtfully as you answered. 

“This strange mirror, it told me I could be beautiful…”

You play with your spoon, a little ashamed and blushing deeply as you continue. 

“I was a little erratic, I am in love with this man and so I listened to the mirror’s rambles, even if they were irrational.”

You're too focused on your embarrassment to notice the giggles and looks traded among the staff, the way your stepfather's shoulders sink slightly, his disappointed gaze. Because he could never imagine that you love him, you must be in love with some young lord, a man who doesn't deserve your love, who could never give you what you want. He shook his head, putting a stop to that presumptuous line of thought. He knows you deserve someone younger than him, unmarried and full of youthful energy to match your carefree spirit. 

You keep glancing at Chan out of the corner of your eye, looking for any change in his expression, and you watch in delight as his shoulders sink, and his face darkens. You feel a flicker of hope spark in your chest, small and pathetic, but there nonetheless. You decide to test the waters a little. Clasping your hands together, you keep your eye on Chan as you speak. 

“I'm just so in love, I think of him every day, and I long to spend the rest of my life with him.”

You feel a little bad as you watch Chan’s face fall, watch his hands clenched in his lap. The small flame in your heart sputters and grows, roaring to life and heating your heart in a joyful fire. You are now sure he loves you back. He sends you a strained smile, trying to be encouraging. 

“That's, um, wonderful!” The servants giggle behind him, trading secret smiles hidden behind their hands. 

“So, when will I meet this wonderful man?” The emphasis on wonderful makes you want to laugh, and you choke back your giggles as you continue. 

“You know him.” Confusion flashes across his face. “I do?” The staff is muffling laughter behind their hands, but Chan remains ever oblivious. You smirk. “Yes, very well.” 

You think he might be the only person in the room, stuffed to the brim with castle staff, that hasn't gotten it. His brow furrows as he thinks. “Is it Lord Brandish?” You emphatically shake your head. He frowns. “I really can't think of anyone else…”

Your head butler coughed, running a hand through his perfectly combed silver hair. His voice is resigned as he speaks. 

“It's you, sire.”

The room is dead silent. Chan stands, his eyes wide as he turns to the head butler. “Really?” The butler nods, and Chan turns again, tripping over the leg of the chair and crashing onto the bed, narrowly avoiding your soup. Your head maid rescues the food from your lap and you grin as Chan blushes, pulling himself into a sitting position. His voice is uncharacteristically shy as he speaks. 

“Is it really me?” Your beaming as you nod and a hopeful smile lights up his handsome face. You throw the covers off your legs and stand, your feet hitting the soft carpet with a thud. 

Chan takes your hand in his own, and bows before you, bringing his full lips to it. Your heart pounds as he presses a delicate kiss to it. He straightens to his full height “I love you more than you can imagine.” Someone coos in the background, but all you can see is the handsome man in front of you, your hand still clasped in his. He drops your hand, and you feel his hand heavy on your waist, his other hand coming up to caress your jaw, tilting your head up. His voice is so soft as he speaks. 

“When I looked into your eyes, my heart felt like it would escape my chest and run into your arms.” Your own heart feels the same, and you wonder if you might die. He's closer to you now, and all you can see is him. Around you, the servants begin to creep out giggling and smiling as they leave. The door shuts behind the last of them but neither of you notice, too caught up in each other's eyes. His voice is raspy now, and his gaze drops to your lips, darting back up to your eyes and back down. “At that moment… I knew I loved you.” 

He's so cheesy, and if any other man was saying such sugar-coated words, you would laugh in his face. But when Chan says it, your heart pounds in your chest and your cheeks burn with the fire of your heart. You suppose everything is different with him. His breath hits your lips, intermixing with your own as he comes ever closer. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. 

“Can I kiss you?” You smile, your hand winding around to grip his shoulders, as you reply. “Please kiss me.”

And so he does. 

♔♕♔

Your wedding is a joyous occasion, the townspeople clap happily, and as you kiss your new husband, under a rain of lilies, clutching the precious flower in your hands, you think back on what an odd set of events had preceded it. To think, in a way, you had your mother to thank for your husband. After all, it was she who brought Chan into your life, her death that had indirectly caused the two of you to have an opportunity to become closer and her magic mirror that pushed you to go trecking into the woods in the first place. And as the joyous wedding bells rang through the air, as you and Chan boarded the carriage and sat side by side, your head on his shoulder as the driver whipped the horses into a trot, you found it in yourself to be thankful to her. For although she had caused you a great deal of pain, in the end it had shaped you into the person you were today, a person full of flaws, yes, but those flaws just made you human. 

“Why are you so quiet. Having second thoughts?”

You giggled, and snuggled closer into your husband's strong embrace. “I would never.” You replied, and tilted your head up for a kiss. 

And as your lips locked, and you drove off into the sunset, you were sure this was the happiest you had been in your whole life, but you knew, there were only happy days to come. 

♔♕♔

taglist: @angieknght, @moasworld, @lofasofabread, @smhlino, @elizalabs3, @orrrgannnic

[evostar]

La madre silenciosa au character sheets!!

Btw many of the kids are from other towns as well!! The magic bought them and Dolores together! And Alma, julieta, Agustin, pepa, Felix, Isabela and Luisa are referred as “other family“

First we have Paloma, his family owned a shoe shop in bogota, his dad was abusive to his whole family, especially to him because he acts “girly“. He didn’t like making or fixing shoes, neither did he like the “manly“ activities his father forced him to do. He became a bully to protect himself from anyone, Paloma regrets it a lot though. Paloma hated his life and father very much, his mother never did anything besides watch which made him hate them even more. He realized that he loved baking a lot, at that moment he knew that he wanted to become a baker. When his father found out it wasn’t so pretty, he raged out onto him and in the same day Paloma ran away. A week later he was in the Encanto, that’s when Dolores heard him and took him in! He got adopted at the age of 8, a year later he got his gift and he has been the happiest ever :D it didnt take him a while to get off his habit but he was relaxed after.

Next is Camilo! Since birth he was more of an mama‘s boy, yet pepa didn’t pay much attention to him, only when he needed to get praised. Dolores on the other hand made sure to give him the motherly love he deserved. He didn’t like the feeling of Mariano appearing like an father figure for him, he was angry at Felix for lacking at it, but he adapted Mariano quite fast. He was often grouchy about the fact that his parents don’t care. His gift also made the situation worse but his real family always helped him which got him better though time. He loves to take care of his little siblings and in the same time being an wild teenager!

Ines is a "special" child, well at least for a lot of people. She has albinism, her parents thought she was some kind of evil spirit so they treated her rather badly. Ines got bullied from the neighborhoods because of her condition, the school didn’t accept her in either so she didn’t knew to write, read or properly speak. She really isolated herself from the world getting sick often since she stays in her room 24\7. Dolores heard about her a couple of times, she helped ines to get better at basic stuff, she schooled her and took her in when she was 9! Dolores noticed that ines had major anger issues, so she decided to put her in therapy to help ines, which worked a lot! Maybe she can snap sometimes but she‘s working on it. Also she dye‘s her hair because she doesn’t like the white color, she gets reminded often how pretty her hair is but she still won’t like it.

Finally mirabel! She is still giftless in this au, the other family still acts as if she were a curse (besides Luisa). Mirabel obviously tries not to think much of her being giftless even if she is reminded every day. Her parents maybe cared for her more than camilo‘s did but they stopped caring when she didnt get a gift, always making the same excuse “im busy“ Dolores knew mirabel didn’t deserve to get treated like that just because of her gift so she did the caring! Mirabel learned a lot of stuff trough her family, but what she loved to learn the most was the sewing skills her abuela Fiona’s showed her.

They all became a group, since they were raised together and been trough a lot together, their age made them closer too!!

Xavier had a pretty rough life, his mother died at birth and his father hated him for it. His father always looked him up into tight and dark spaces because he didn’t want to see him. Dolores reported him for some crimes he did, just so she could take Xavier in, he was 6 when he got adopted. Xavier was a bit shy at first but he grew to be a very brave boy! He looked up to Mariano a lot and practically did everything he did because he thought that if he did anything wrong he was gonna be put in a tight space again but they made sure to help him with his habit, now he is just wild!! Basically being himself.

Juan is Xavier’s best friend!! Which he is really greatful for since Juan never really had friends. He came from a wealthy family in bogota, he didnt like being wealthy because he got bullied a lot for it. It would get so bad that he often needed to be hospitalized. Because he is from a wealthy family his family doesnt accept him either, they ignore him, dont take care of him and neither do they try to stop his bullying. Like Paloma he ran away out of anger just that this time when he fell asleep in the woods, he woke up the next day in a cozy bed instead of his old cold one. It took him some time to adjust with the people in town, especially the older ones. Juan ran away when he was 8, and he first got his gift 3 years later because the miracle felt the anxiety in him, however he now lives carefree and safe!

Andres had a traumatic past, his blond hair and blue eyes made him get praised by a lot of people which made his parents realize the fame. Andres‘s mother was by far more obsessed with fame so she ofc did everything so people would notice him. They forced him to do stuff just so he would get praised and famed over, if he ddi something wrong he would get punished. When he was 7 he lashed out and his mother burned him with fire as punishment. That happened at night so Dolores got woken by screams, she got his parents arrested and took him in. Andres still tends to avoid a lot of stuff but it is noticeable how he is working on getting better!!

Luz is a bright girl!! Now her mom cared for her however she didnt take care of herself. Her mom always argued with her dad since he was somewhat abusive, at the end she divorced him because she found out he was having an affair. Life was hard after that, luz had to take care of both her mom and herself but after a year her mom took her own life, needless to say it wasn’t a pretty view. She got adopted by Dolores at 5, sometimes Luz has panic attacks because of the trauma so she regularly goes to therapy too. She‘s getting way better! Luz looks up to Isabela often because it seems like she and her mom don’t only look alike but also have a lot in common.

As you can guess Marcia isn’t liked because of her eyes, some of them find it freaky or weird. She actually had a quite big family but they hated her for being different so they tried to get rid of her. (Iykyk) Marcia was extremely traumatized by it, Dolores scolded the entire family including arresting the older ones, needles to say she wasn’t so happy about what she heard. Marcia isolated herself for 6 months after, her family were with her the entire time to help her. The passing months she was getting better and Marcia started to open up. Now she’s happily learning how to write!! Dolores adopted her at 5 years old, kinda sad she was this young.

Lyla had good guardians, her grandparents took care of her till they died, which was when she was 4, after that her parents took her in and since they were young they didnt attend to take care of her. Dolores was already good friends with her grandparents, they knew that her parents wouldn’t take care of her so they asked Dolores to do it. Dolores talked with her parents and adopted lyla!! Layla basically already grew up in the casita so she is pretty used to everything, yet she does need help if it comes to the stairs.

Carlos was actually a homeless boy, his parents left him on the streets when he was 3 and he was on the streets for 3 years till dolores found him. He got picked on a lot and he was skinny which made him insecure too. When Dolores found him he was barely holding on, so he got spoiled a lot ofc!! They helped him with school which he didnt like learning at first, but later on found out he could read comic‘s with it. Plus he became very confident too!!

Esteban has divorced parents, both of them absolutely HATE eachother so they make him their weapon. Every once a week he has to visit the other parent and before he goes the parents tells him to do this or to do that. Esteban doesnt want to do it, he doesnt like it, he feels guilty about it but he knows the punishments. Both of his parents were arrested for the crimes they did (i wonder who reported them) dolores adopted him when he was 8!! Esteban got nothing but just affection from his new family, he loves them very deeply and feels safe with them than he ever has.

The triplets had it very rough, they were selled by their own parents. The ones that bought them treated them very bad, they experimented on them, hurt them for fun and did a lot of other bad stuff. They escaped the place and hid in casita. Dolores found them and adopted them! It took them the longest out of the children to get used to a normal life, but now they are pretty comfortable with their new family! She found them when they were 5, pretty young, sometimes they still struggle a lot.

Leandra‘s dad is pretty troublesome. He always gets in trouble with some kind of bad gang‘s, as you call it. These things get both his dad and himself in danger, he hates not feeling safe the entire time. When he was 6 his dad caused a big thing with a gang, they cornered him and Leandra was with him at that time. In order to survive he told them that they could take Leandra, they then took Leandra and left him alone. The people hurt him for fun throughout a half year, Mariano say them doing stuff to him one day and it didnt end well for them. Mariano saved leandra from the trouble and since that day he has major trust issues, hes grumpy most of the times however he still can be soft :)

Esmeralda was abandoned by her mother when she was 2, she just left her in the forest. Months went by and Dolores started to hear noises in the forest at some points. When she decided to check it out she saw a little toddler, Dolores ofc adopted her. Esmeralda didn't have many problems besides some, she had and still has problems with communication. Speaking for her can be difficult, that's why her family makes sure to always give her a rest when they talk with her. She may looks like she would creep someone out, but she's harmless and would never think of hurting anyone :D

Olivia‘s parents were not stable, they always took some shit. She sometimes ended up in the orphanage because they got arrested. Her parents are abusive and alway aggressive, they never care for her or her brother, so most of the time she has to take care of both of them which can be exhausting. Dolores arrested her parents and took both of them in. Olivia was really happy to have new parents, she got used to Mariano and Dolores really quickly because they were so comforting. She was also happy that her brother was treated well in others care, she finally could be a normal kid!

Rosa has a big family, she has 3 big siblings who moved out of her house when she was young, they didn't treat her well, especially her older sister. They left her out and bullied her often, Isabela reminds her of her big sister a lot and that’s why she hates Isabela a lot. Not only that but they both look and act alike which makes her hatred towards Isabela even more. Her parents weren’t good people either, they too treated her like an outcast and made her do all the chores in the house. They made fun of her too till Dolores got them arrested for a reason. Rosa really looks up to Dolores as her savior, she can finally just be herself without anyone judging her.

Rafeala‘s parents were young when they had him and that’s why they gave him to his grandmother. His grandmother HATES him for making her daughter's life miserable. Rafaela was treated very badly by her, when he was 5 she hurt him so badly he got a major concussion. That concussion damaged his brain really badly which made him forget to do a lot of stuff and a lot of memories. Dolores wasn’t so happy about the news and that woman did not end in jail without breaking some bones. However the injuries didn't stop him from being a very positive child!! He’s happy with his new family!! Sometimes he is scared of Alma because of his memories.

Antonio was in dolore‘s care since the moment he was born, pepa did not want to raise another child. (As if she raised her others) Antonio knows that Dolores and Mariano aren't his real parents but that won't stop him from loving them as if they were his parents which they technically are. He hates his other family for hurting his family, the only person he would still talk to would be Luisa since she is actually nice and would be there for him. He didn't have much problems with his family next to him even so sometimes he still has a lot of anxiety because of his expectations of being the next “hope of the miracle“. His family will make sure though whatever will happen that they will always stay with him.

Cecilia has some troublesome parents, they caused trouble and blamed her for it. She didn't like being blamed for everything they did. Not only that but they were heavy alcoholic‘s too. Sometimes they would force her to buy it for them, she hated the feeling, she hated it all. She isolated herself a lot, Dolores finally got her parents arrested last year and since then she has been the happiest. No more getting blamed at, no more of the smell of alcohol and no more hurting. She loves her family and loves to be with her friends everyday.

Alejandra has divorced parents, she never really sees her dad and is around her mom the entire time. Her mom brings a man over sometimes and if they are really drunk they start to criticize her, calling her bad names or just making fun of her in general. She hates being made fun of so she goes to her abuela Fiona’s house a lot since it's near. After some time Dolores adopted her, now she feels safe in her own home. She doesn't need to be scared of anyone criticizing her ever again and she loves the feeling of being free of those bad words.

Juancho was also one of Mariano’s neighbors. He practically grew up in Mariano’s home since his parents didn’t give a shit about him, like they wouldn’t care if he just went missing, nor would they even care if he had died. They didn't want children and acted aggressive towards him often, Juancho didn't like them even one bit. Mariano often hung around him because he knew how they acted with him, in the end he adopted him and Juancho was more than happy. Juancho did have a coffee problem because once he saw the coffee he pretty much got addicted, they are working on it though.

They all got matching bracelets after seeing the older ones having one too.

Patricia is Frisco's and Vicenta’s step sibling. Their mom cheated on multiple men and in the end she married one, aka patrcia‘s dad. They got treated pretty bad, they were forced to do all the housework, if they didn't they got punishments. Dolores adopted them last year when they were 4, she actually fought to adopt them earlier but the police often refused, in the end she finally adopted them. They were fearful at first but then got comfortable with their new family, they are relaxed and don't have to worry about punishments anymore.

Yoga was treated badly because of his skin condition, his family made him feel like a mistake, like he didn’t deserve to be alive. Luckily he was the neighbor of Fiona, he always ran to her after they did something, sometimes he would stay with her some days and sometimes he would stay at Dolores’s. He hated being treated badly just because of his condition. Fiona ranted the parents out and Dolores ended up adopting him. For some reason he liked the julieta‘s outfit a lot, it made him feel calm just by seeing it so they made sure to make him something similar in which he ofc feels safe.

Diego was the oldest and first one Dolores adopted. (Besides Camilo and Mirabel) His father didn't treat him well, he made Diego work a lot. His uncle‘s side of the family wasn’t good either, they too treated him badly. Diego was confused most of the time, yet he was also angry. Sometimes his father would kick him out and then take him back in, but one day when Diego was 9 he ran away, he didnt wanna work anymore, he didnt wanna get hurt or bad-mouthed anymore. Dolores found him in the forest and took him in, he looked up to her a lot since that day. Now he is rested, no more work and no more bad words, plus he loves being a big brother.

Bronco‘s parents only used him and his sister for good reputation. They didn‘t want children but they saw how much people with children get praised so they decided to have 2 children for good reputation only. When they weren’t getting praised they were left alone unattended somewhere, Dolores always has to go to their garden so they won't hurt themselves accidentally. When Bronco was 2 he set the house on fire without knowing, the house burned down but Dolores still got him and his sister out in time. His parents didn’t survive, but bronco didn't care that much since he didn't even really know them. Dolores adopted them and he felt happier to be with her than his parents.

Cruzito‘s parents didn't want him, they noticed how Dolores adopted many children, so they asked Dolores to take him. She was upset how they did not want their own child but she didn't refuse. Dolores adopted cruzito, he grew up happily in a big family with lots of love and spoilering.

Almira’s parents used her for a good reputation like bronco. She didn't like seeing so many bad face‘s, some were making her upset. She didn't like going to the same places and would just end up crying. One day her brother set the house on fire, Dolores saved her but she was really traumatized by it, she cried every time she was put down by Dolores because of the thought of being hurt again, after some time though she felt safe enough to be on the floor and even start to walk herself. Mostly though she likes being picked up rather than walking.

Angela‘s and Amalia's parents weren’t bad people, well at least not their mother. Their mother was good friends with Dolores, but she knew that she couldn’t handle twins at birth since it was risky for her age. She made a promise with Dolores that if she died she wanted her to take care of the twins. And sadly she did die after the birth, Dolores was devastated but kept her promise. Their father divorced their mother when he found out about the pregnancy, he didn't want children and so he left. Dolores makes sure they grow up to be loved.

Victorio is Olivia’s little brother, since birth he has been abused, his parents were nothing but just aggressive towards him. Thankfully he is a calm child most of the time. He is happily now in Dolores’s care, without getting hurt for the rest of his life.

Now we're onto Dolores!! She started to notice Mirabel was neglected by the whole family, even by her own mother. She hated hearing the cries she heard from mirabel after the ceremony, no one also went to comfort her so she took the matters into her own hand and started to take care of her, it wasn’t a long time till she started to take care of Camilo too. After some time she heard a child in the forest, all alone and she couldn’t just leave him there so she took him in. Since that day she started to take more and more care of the children that needed care. But who would take care of Dolores? Well at the time she found that child in the forest she also met a woman in the age of her mother, she built a bond with the woman and started to see her as a mother figure, pepa lost her spark with Dolores a long time ago, since she was 5. She also met her beloved husband through the kids, everything is great…till it isn’t.

Mariano grew up with no parents, his father is unknown and his mother died at birth. His grandma took care of him and he made a promise to never be like his father. He grew up pretty well behaved, he made sure to treat everyone kindly. He started to get a crush on his best friend, Dolores after a while. He has known her since childhood and he also knows that she helps the people in need. He wanted to be by her side, helping the ones in need, but he also wanted to help her too. After a confession, they started to date and then he proposed, they got married and Mariano couldn’t be happier. He loves his family and what he has become. He would never change it the way it is.

Elena Rosa, the grandmother of Mariano had a normal life, she grew up like any other kid, maybe sometimes her life got down, like that time she lost her husband in the escape. She gave birth to a little girl, who later on also died on her grandson‘s birth. She was devastated but she swore to raise him in the way she would’ve. She hates her daughter's husband for abandoning her during the pregnancy. Elena loves Dolores and her family a lot too. She knew that Dolores was just perfect for Mariano, plus she also loves to spoil her great grandchildren. They are everything for her.

Fiona grew up poorly, her family wasn’t the best, so she made sure to cut them out if she ever got married. Which she did, but after he found out that she couldn’t get children he left her and 6 years of her life went to waste on him. She was alone after that, till Dolores came to her life. She treated Dolores like a daughter she couldn’t have before. And in the process Fiona also got a son-in-law plus grandchildren!! She loves spoiling Dolores and her grandchildren, she made sure to make sure they won’t get the same treatment she got. She’s very protective of her family, she will hurt anyone who even dares to looks at them the wrong way.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Y’all best believe I spend a lot of time of this 😭 I also needed to rewrite most of their lores since tumblr decided to be a pain in the ass 😞 Fiona is just a character I wanted to add since Dolores deserves a mother figure in this au 🥲👍 I really love and enjoy this au a lot!! I think in the future I will start to write too :D!! If any of y’all got something to say or ask so about this au I be very glad to answer or hear about it!!

Also, the children live in a second casita alike house, just that this house is like a magical room. In Dolores’s room, Guzman‘s house and Fiona‘s house is a door connected to casita 2.0. The room is ofc huge, and everyone who chooses to have an own bedroom has one, some share one cuz they don’t like being alone. They have a garden, multiple bathrooms, and everything they need. Since technically the room isn’t connected to the candle like casita is, it still will be there after casita‘s fall!! Just that Dolores room door won’t work anymore till they rebuild casita. 🩵

[wind-it-up-p21]

PSA this is going to be very long and I would post it on my own blog but I am not ready to talk about this without being anonymous yet since a few of you know who I am in “real life.”

As someone who grew up in a sport very similar to dance and had what seems to be a very similar experience to Dyllan here’s what I have to say (disclaimer my experience obviously was not exactly the same but I will explain how they overlap).

I was a part of a team that was and is still known to be one of the top teams in the country. If you wanted to make a name for yourself in this world my team was one of the places you would go to do that. Girls travel from all over the country to compete with them.

On my said team I was one of the “favorites” though I never thought of myself as one until I got older and I realized it again when I walked away and looked back on my experience and it became more obvious to me.

To start, my coach made it very clear to the rest of our team that me and 3 other girls were “the hardest workers” and that we had special relationships with her. Just to name a few things she did to validate this with me: She told me consistently that she loved me and that I was special, I was one of four students invited to her wedding, and she would put me and the other 3 favorites in groupchats or have meetings with us to basically tell us we needed to lead the team to victory and it fell on us to be the examples for the team. I could go on and on but you probably get the point.

I was apart of this team for the same amount of time that Dyllan spent with Molly. My last year on the team I was in high school and wanted to enjoy my social life as well as competition life. I was dedicated to the team, but I also wanted to maybe you know go to a school football game or two. The minute that my team wasn’t tunnel vision in my eyes my coach started to put such intense amounts of pressure on me, take away “privileges” I had, and threatened what I now realize was my status on the team in order to get me to forget my social life and eat/sleep/breathe our sport and team. She had done this before, but it was now on another level. My mental health was at an all time low and nobody but my parents knew. People would say that because I was one of the team stars there was no way I could possibly feel like a victim in this situation. I felt trapped and didn’t know what to do because this team was my everything and everyone knew how big of a role it played in my life, but I needed to get out.

It has now been many, many years since all of this went down. I have taken time to process what I went through and I still am impacted by the trauma of it all. When I finally decided to walk away after that last year, a ton of my teammates ended up following me. It was an exodus like the one p21 had. Meanwhile, one of the other favorites now works for the organization, but clearly suffers from anger issues and anxiety now. At least one of the other favorites has openly regretted not leaving at the right time.

All in all, everyone is gonna have different experiences on a team like mine or project 21s. However, if it’s a toxic environment for so many people it’s toxic for everyone. Some people may just not realize it. They have drank the kool aid and they’re knee deep in it. We can’t control who stays and who goes, so what we can do is support the girls who are there while continuing to validate the emotions of those who left. If Dyllan and so many other girls were so clearly negatively impacted by Molly and P21 there’s obviously some truth to it. With that being said it doesn’t mean we can’t root for the success of girls like Gracyn and Regan. They’re children, and they’re individuals. They are not the reason so many people have struggled at P21. I have a lot more on my mind regarding our support to them and P21 but I’ll spare you all of it considering this is already a 400 page novel.

This was so interesting to read and I really agree with everything you said! It really puts into perspective how someone might seem really successful at their dance studio or any sport but actually be really struggling mentally

[xxstraykidsaikoxx]

Relationship W/ Hyunjin

ᰔThis one is kinda a long one since im a sucker for the romance genre so i apologize in advance if most of this is too much! 😅

WHEN THEY STARTED DATING: April 23, 2020

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC: Rivals-to-Lovers

AGE DIFFERENCE: 2 Years

ZSIGN COMPATIBILITY: Aries & Pieces

HOW THEY MET:

After Aiko got accepted into the survival program, Chan introduced her to the members and most of them hit off. Most of the members felt a little off having a girl, especially one as young as Aiko, apart of their group. These members included Hyunjin. The first thing he said to her face when she walked in the room was, "Who's this girl?" obviously Ai was put off and that was when their rivalry started.

HOW THEY CAUGHT FEELINGS:

HYUNJIN: Hyun initially caught feelings after spending some more time with and around Aiko and realized how endearing and genuine she is. He wanted someone who would sympathize with him, someone who would share his burdens and pains with him, and Aiko had checked off those boxes without fail. He at first thought his feelings were just going to last a day or two but no, his feelings soon grew into a strong love for Aiko, he just wasn't sure when was the right time to admit it.

AIKO: For Ai, it was love at first sight. She thought he was gorgeous but as soon as he opened his mouth she wasn't impressed. But with her too, after spending more time with Hyunjin she found herself getting more and more fond of him. Although she was under the impression that he didn't like her, which caused her to push her feelings for him down and away so she wouldn't loose focus on her current projects.

HOW/WHEN THEY CONFESSED:

It was like something straight out of a Kdrama. It was a stormy day in April when it happened. The two had gotten into a small argument after Hyun asked/demanded they talk about their feelings and Aiko being raised in an emotionally unavailable household, she's not as receptive/willing to openly talk about how or what she's feeling. After Hyun kept insisting they talk about their feelings Aiko got overwhelmed and stormed out into the rain with Hyun following her. Long story short they confessed their love for each other and had their first kiss in the rain and lived happily ever after.

DATING IN SECRET:

A week after they started dating they had a long discussion on how to proceed with their form relationship. Both had agreed to at least tell Chan since he was their leader and unsurprisingly Channie was happy for them and helped them formate a plan since at the time in 2020, they were still under a dating ban (JYP has a 4 or 3 year dating ban I believe). The other members were also informed and all were accepting and since then, Hyun and Ai have been inseparable. Soon though, STAYs had noticed how close they've gotten, which was out of the normal because of their for mentioned rivalry and how much they seemed to dislike each other, which created the ship 'AiHyun'.

HARDSHIPS:

Despite their fairytale like relationship, it's not without its problems, but luckily they have the ability to talk it out sometimes. The small arguments they have are usually started when someone genuinely messes up or when the other's health and safety is being put at risk. Aiko never likes going to bed angry at each other, so she works hard to resolve the issue as soon as possible. Outside of small arguments, both of them being idols brings in a whole another world of problems. One of those being Hyun's unfortunate hiatus. This was the longest they'd been apart from each other practically since they debuted together. (I'll go more into this in a future post).

TEXTS TOGETHER:

ᰔ honestly i may make a part two of some sorts since there's more layers to their relationship but this is already as long as it is so, lemme know if this is really in need of a part two and if so what to include in it!

MASTERLIST

[nyactophiliac]

What's the Soulbound Critters AU about?

That's a whoooooole story lol

Short version: The name Angel happens to be a bit more literal here. After the hour of joy, the Angel recreated the world of the cartoon and is pulling a Truman Show on the critters so they can rest in peace. But they weren't careful enough so Catnap, Bobby, and Dogday figured everything out and join the Angel in overseeing the others.

Long version below the cut:

An important background detail first: in this lore, someone in a state of near death for a long period of time can have their soul drift between the real world and the afterlife.

Originally, the Angel was actually one of the kids at the orphanage. Their parents were Playtime Co. chemists tasked with creating a more efficient way of turning the kids into toys after the first few experiments went wrong. Their research was incomplete, but they created a toon serum that the company decided was good enough, and is what was used to create the critters.

However, they made the mistake of trying to quit, and the company both literally and metaphorically axed them, making the Angel a permanent resident of the factory. They were a candidate to be turned into a toy as well, but it was decided against because they were a little too smart and the company didn't want another prototype on their hands. Instead, after expressing a passion for chemistry like their parents, they were adopted by the researchers and became a pseudo-lab assistant.

When the Hour of Joy happens, they are injured enough that they go into a coma, but they do escape. While in it, their soul drifts off and meets what they think is god, who tasks them with overseeing the unfortunate souls from the factory. They create the fake afterlife pretty quickly, and add a memory suppressing effect to it so the critters can have a happy afterlife without being burdened by what happened to them.

There's one slight problem with that though: the suppression isn't completely working on Catnap and Bobby, and Dogday just doesn't show up until years later than the others, but when he does he remembers everything. Their god gives them another assignment: go back to the factory and kill the one responsible for this mess. After that, they wake up from the coma, arm themselves, and start tearing through the factory like a maniac.

After reaching the orphanage, they realize why the suppression doesn't work: those three aren't dead yet. Dogday is severely injured, Catnap is starving from giving most of his food to Bobby, and Bobby suffers severe withdrawal being away from Catnap because she's gotten addicted to the opium in the red gas.

Those three are close enough to death that, like the Angel, they can exist in the afterlife and reality at the same time. Bobby and Catnap mostly experience their memories as nightmares, but Dogday has full memory and a massive grudge against Catnap. For a long time, Bobby acts as a mediator between them, trying to tone down Dogday's aggression and help Catnap with feeling awful because he loves Dogday and doesn't understand why he's like this now.

In order to solve the whole critters dying problem, the Angel decides to finish the toon serum their parents worked on to relieve the suffering of the toys. It takes a while, and they make way too much of Dogday and Bobby's serums, but it works out in the end.

In the end, Bobby and Catnap fully recover their memories after meeting the Angel, Catnap and Dogday end up solving their issues and are together, and Bobby becomes something of a mother figure to the Angel because, y'know, they've been comatose since they were like 10 and never really grew up mentally.

That's missing some details, but it's mostly everything! My next post is gonna be an AMA with the after-story versions of all of them, so stay tuned!

[slutforsnow]

I swear im trying for chapter 6 of The Blue Note 😔 My fyp isnt giving more astv edits 🥲 anyways, to feed the twilight community im here to offer

.

.

.

.

✨️A JASPER X OC FIC✨️

A Cowboy's Dream

Character info:

Name: Eliana (el-e-anna) Smith

Nicknames: Eli (El-e), Ana, Silly, Star Girl

Insults: Accident, Freak, Weirdo, r-slur

Age: 17

Birthday: April 6th

Blood type: O-

Mental illness/disorder: Autism

Sexuality: Omnisexual

Gender: Female she/her

Backstory: Eliana was born in with a semi-normal family. She had a father, Michael, and a mother, Terra. When Eli had turned about 6 months old when Michael realized he was gay and wanted a divorce. Terra went along with it, as she was a closeted lesbian. She couldn't stand being in a marriage with a man, so once the divorce was finalized, Michael and Terra stayed friends but went to live on their lives. Terra kept Eliana, as Michael wasn't sure that traveling in a van would be safe for a 6 month old, and met her later wife -Vanessa- when Ana was 3. They got married on Eli's birthday, with her permission of course, and have given Eliana the world and more that a girl could ask for while living in Forks, Washington. Michael comes to visit Eliana for special days just whenever she wants to see him because Terra and Vanessa decided that it'd be good for her to have connection to her father, despite calling him "Uncle Mike." Eliana was diagnosed with autism at 7 years old after she had a meltdown about having to sleep on silk sheets in a hotel that the 3 women were staying at for a trip.

She's lived in Forks her entire life and doesn't mind the quietness or rain because at night, when the rain clears, she see the stars and often draws pictures out whatever shape(s) she sees in them.

START NOTE: IM AUTISTIC AND CAN RECLAIM THE R SLUR. I WILL AVOID USING IT AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE SO IT MAY ONLY POP UP 1 OR 2 TIMES. If people are uncomfortable, I'll remove the slur from the story entirely <3

First Meeting

"Do I not look Italian-?" Eli asked, laughing as Mike was in shock learning the autistic member of the group was Italian.

"No, you look white-!! Like, white white." Mike protested as Eliana walked with Bella to her truck.

"Bye bye, Mikey~!" She called as Bella shook her head and ruffled Eliana's dual colored hair.

"So, I'm guessing you and Mikey are close?" Bella questioned as Eliana moved closer to her to avoid bumping into the Cullens.

"Eehhhh, if you wanna call teasing each other like siblings close because you're both only children then yes...? Besides, we grew up neighbors, so we see each other every day and let me tell you- being surrounded by loud neurotypicals hurts like hell."

"Really?" Bella looked up at Eliana as the smaller female sat on the hood of the car. "I thought they were ok- a bit better than the people back in Arizona."

"Ehhh, depends on the person. Since I'm autistic, and I don't speak for every autistic person, I have sensory issues meaning I can't handle super loud crowds or friend groups. But they were my only friends, so I sucked it up as best as I could and dealt with it. You, however, aren't autistic and don't really mix with the loud crowd and tend to avoid them as much as possible," Eliana explained pulling a marker out of her patch-filled messenger bag and started to draw stars along her left arm.

"Oh.. that makes sense, yeah," Bella replied after a moment, watching Eliana draw on herself. Throughout the day, Bella noted that Eli would do this whenever a certain blonde was around. According to Jessica, Eliana has had a thing for one of the mysterious Cullens- Jasper. Yet, he was seemingly taken by Alice. It hurt Eliana, so she took to drawing on herself to avoiding staring at him and causing drama.

Yet, every so often, Jasper would catch himself staring at her and he looked away, attempting, and failing, to not be caught.

The reason why the pair did this was because Jasper saved her life exactly 3 years ago today.

"Are you serious dude? The Freak?" A student inquired, laughing his ass off as Eli walked passed, clutching her books and not noticing the 5 squares of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of her shirt.

"Yeah! I mean, besides, it's not like anyone's going to stand up for the retard and won't it be awesome to humiliate it in front of the whole school?" The student's friend spoke up, grinning and seeing Eliana walk to class faster to avoid being seen crying out of distress.

Later that day, Eli had forgotten all about the worry of being humiliated. She felt safe and at peace. Besides, she had gotten to talk to one of her more mysterious classmates, Rosalie, today and she promised to help Eli get a good hair-do that would make her feel happy.

Life felt perfect and completely worry-free... until one of her bullies kicked her in the back and caused her to trip down the stairs of the building and fall into the wet pavement.

She groaned, rolling onto her side and hugging her ribs as blood ran down her face from her nose and her head spun in dizziness. She was in so much pain that she didn't process a car come barreling down to her until she heard a large crash and a familiar voice yell.

Two sets of hands pulled her up, eliciting a cry of pain from the younger as pressure was put onto her right foot. One of the 'strangers' whom had helped her up, scooped her up bridal style as she began to fall in and out of consciousness.

After a few hours had gone by, Eliana woke up, groaning.

"Ah, I see you're awake, Eliana. You gave us a scare there," a gentle and friendly voice said earning a tiny smile from the teen.

"Hi, Dr. Carlisle..." She groaned out, putting a hand to her head and flinching in the process.

"Hi, dear," he greeted, sympathetically and gently running his hand through her long bright blonde hair. The doctor cared deeply for her and she loved him like he was her dad. "Can you tell me what happened this time?"

"I- uhmmm... I don't think I remember a lot of it..." She told him, honestly and shrugging a tad. Carlisle merely smiled reassuringly.

"It's alright, you don't have to try and remember all of it now, but would you be able to give me a gist of what happened?" He questioned, sitting in one of the rolly stools while checking her heartbeat.

"Uhmm... I think I tripped down the stairs... and then hit my head really hard, but I don't remember anything after that," She told him, trying to focus on the light he was using to check her eyes.

"You tripped? Eli... these injuries don't typically come from tripping down the stairs- accident prone or not," Carlisle started, looking at her and she moved her gaze to her hands. "Are you sure someone didn't kick you down the stairs or anything?"

Eliana tensed and stayed quiet. She didn't want the senior to get in trouble, but her silence did confirm that someone did kick her down the stairs.

"Eli..? Come on, you can't stay quiet for this, honey. Jasper and Rosalie already told Chief Swan everything that they know and he's waiting to talk to you downstairs, as he's wanting to know if your mothers will press charges against whomever hurt you and, apparently, tried to run you over."

"He's gonna kill me if I say anything though..." Eli buried her face into her knee that she could move and groaned audibly.

"But he also could be behind bars. Freedom from him, Eliana, wouldn't that be nice?" Ana paused for a moment and nodded a bit, earning a kind smile from Carlisle.

However, before Carlisle could continue, one of the Cullens entered the room with Eliana's stuff. This one must've been Jasper, due to the fancy shirt he wore and his wavy/curly blonde locks were pushed out of his face that as Rosalie had described.

"Ah, Jasper, here with Eliana's things. Thank you, son," He said as Jasper sat her bag by her shoes and nodded, then went to leave, not making eye contact with either.

"Hey, Jasper-?.. uhm... Thanks.. to you and the other person who helped," Eliana called. Jasper had froze at the door when she called his name. He'd never heard it said so... kindly and softly before. There was no sound of reassurance or manipulation behind it- just pure gratitude and the blonde could sense that from her, even without his power.

Partially turning to face her, he smiled at her kindly.

"You're welcome, ma'am. I'm just glad to see you're not bleedin too bad," He said to her, with his Southern accent coming out before leaving the room. This left Carlisle chuckling softly at his son for sneaking in a thank-you to her for not causing him to go feral and Eliana completely in love with him.

[sunbeamedskies]

Languageaholic/Wanderlust/Toxic vs. Positive Travel

This is so cathartic that I’m already back

Man, the post before this is one of the most personal ones I’ll ever write. It’ll probably just become a regular thing though

For years, one of the main things I worked on was learning as many languages as possible. I wanted to travel the world and speak to everyone as much as possible in their native languages. I wanted to surprise people and speak back to them in anything other than English. I still do! 

However, this became somewhat unhealthy. I would never be able to decide whether to work on my core 7 languages or the 13 total I had studied the most. I went back and forth in my mind and it attached itself to my OCD. I would think about it way too much and not end up making enough progress in general because of it

I still achieved a lot that I’m thankful for, but one thing I didn’t realize until later was that hyperfocusing on languages was also a method of running away from the fact that I wasn’t writing. I forgot I was even supposed to be trying to write or do anything creative. Conversely, when I finally started working on my previous book, I only minimally kept up with my languages. A little piece of my soul felt like it went missing. I’ve realized recently I still haven’t balanced my continued language learning goals with my writing goals well, but I am determined to do so

Eckhart Tolle warned that people who love to travel a lot can fall into the trap of feeling temporary relief when the new place you’re in distracts you from the troubles in your mind. Then when the new place becomes a little old, you lose that relief and are off to a new place to get another temporary rush. I’ve always been someone who wants to travel everywhere, and when I did my first Eurotrip last year, this warning rested in the back of my mind

As the blog post below this exemplifies, traveling absolutely does not rid you of all your problems. It has enriched my life though, and I am happier being elsewhere than where I grew up. I don’t feel I belong where I grew up, and there is nothing wrong with leaving anywhere you don’t belong. I try to be as aware of my feelings as possible to avoid just traveling for the initial rush. Staying longer in certain places and really dealing with your issues is one way of avoiding toxic travel patterns

Some in my family don’t understand my strong wanderlust. They may love traveling too, but believe I do it for too long or don’t get why I’m going to certain places. I think ancestral trauma subconsciously affects how they view it. Safety is even more important to them than most, and ridding myself of a ‘normal’ life by filling it with some new unknowns gives them anxiety. They’re still happy for me a lot of the time though, which is more than others can say

I’ve never really wanted a normal life. I do want five or six kids and to be married someday, but I want to do it in my own time and raise them a little uniquely. I want homebase to be a couple different places and to always continue traveling as much as possible. I’ve learned to not be as judgmental of the white picket fence life though- I think some can balance that kind of life with new adventures if they make the effort, and as long as people are happy, so what if what’s right for them isn’t the same as what’s right for me?

Most people who follow me on here will stick to the shorter political/social commentary posts and never read these, and that’s fine. These personal entries are mostly for me. I do want to be brave and start crossposting them on my other socials though. I am a very open person who will gladly discuss all of these posts in person with people, but there is a tinge of nervousness surrounding the thought of people I know actually seeing these

I think my 2014 Tumblrina self would be proud. She always wanted to do consistent personal posts at some point in the future, and goddamit do I miss 2014 sometimes

Galaxy leggings forever

Love,

J

[thelamb1429]

IMPORTANT

Topic: The election

I know I don’t post a lot, and honestly I didn’t plan on saying anything at all. But I need to clear some things up for folks.

1. I know I don’t have a ton of followers. Regardless, if you voted for any Republican candidate (especially Trump), stay FAR away from me and my content. Unfollow me, block me, just get away from my blog.

2. We need to have a real talk with some of yall so called “leftists”/“liberals” out here.

What happened to protecting one another?

More so, what exactly is this whole calling the red states “Dumbfuckistan” about? What is the praying for the south to be completely destroyed by natural disasters about? What the HELL is praying for the muslims to get deported about?

I say this as a minor who would have traded every breath i have left in order to be two years older so that I could have voted for Kamala. I say this as a minor in Mississippi that could not vote because I’m too young. Many of us WANTED to vote for Kamala. She wasn’t perfect, but she was our best shot.

Take into account for a second the fact that the south has some of the highest amounts of felons in the country. And think about how many people under the age of 18 that would have given anything to vote for Kamala, to have a chance at saving ourselves too.

This leaves MILLIONS of people in the south and other red states who wanted her in. We prayed, we tried convincing our parents and other family and friends, we did everything we could do.

We’re just as mad as the rest of you, possibly even angrier. Because we can’t vote to save this country, but have to feel the catastrophic effects of this election regardless.

Was voting third party a dumbass decision that several people made? Dear God, yes it was. Historically speaking, of course no third party was ever gonna win. It just doesn’t work like that.

But when young leftists trapped in these red states, especially the deep south, see everybody else saying that we all deserve to be killed in horrific natural disasters, it doesn’t make any of us hopeful for a future where we can finally vote and make a difference. When we see people saying we should deport the muslims because a handful voted third party, we see exactly where yall actually stood the whole time with human rights. When yall post about how you’re gonna turn a blind eye when women in the south are bleeding out from ectopic pregnancies, we’re gonna remember how you were never actually here for all women at all.

People in the south royally screwed everyone over. Ourselves included.

What you don’t realize is how living in a blue state is a PRIVILEGE that thousands of us would die just to have for a year. Unfortunately yes, we are outnumbered down here. We’re horrifically stuck in our ways and there’s too many older people voting for our states to actually prioritize any marginalized group of people.

But over these last few days, it’s become increasingly obvious that nobody’s giving a damn thought about the people in red states who cannot do a damn thing about it except for begging their families to change their stances on stuff. Nothing except for rallying and volunteering and praying and begging that maybe, MAYBE, somebody would change their mind.

Many of us won’t be lucky enough to leave the prisons that the red states truly are.

We hate us just as much as yall do.

But wishing harm onto EVERYBODY down here does not, in any way, reflect the values of the left that I grew up learning from.

People who weren’t able to have a voice of their own during this election need yall more than ever. We need yall from here on out. We need yall to fight and vote and speak up until we’re able to, because we want out just as much as yall do. We haven’t had ANY rights in a long, long time.

I haven’t seen many issues on Tumblr, but I say this because I’m seeing it everywhere else on the damn internet. On almost every other damn platform in the world.

Be angry and be loud and pissed off because yall deserve to be, but don’t forget about the rest of us here who never once asked for this. Those of us in the most dangerous states for any minorities to be in. Those of us who’ve never had a chance to openly hold hands with a partner, even in our own homes. Those of us who’ve had to practice any faith they’ve ever had in secret because Christianity is drowning us everywhere we go. Those of us who’ve lived through the negative consequences of the reproductive laws passed down here.

When you think about the red states, think about the people who had no voice, who wanted freedom and feminism and acceptance, and will suffer from this election anyway.

Thank you.

[cazzyf1]

My Favourite Quotes from: Niki Lauda Das Dritte Leben

So it's been 4 years since Niki has passed now. Over a year since I became so involved with Niki's life here. It's crazy how short of a time it's been.

It's been a while since I made one of these, but as I have brought two new Niki books recently, I figured I should make this to share. The book is fully in German, which I have had to use google translate on; so there will be grammatical issues in this but for the most part, I'd say this is accurate.

Enjoy

"Only Graham Hill and Chris Amon had private planes, and they were simple propeller mills. It had more to do with sport than luxury or gaining time when they came to the races in Fleger. Once they flew from Spa to London in Graham's Piper Actec, and because I was going the same way, they took me with them. Back then, you didn't travel 20 minutes after crossing the finish line of a race, but on Monday morning. It all started with Graham complaining about a headache that morning from drinking so much at the Grand Prix party. It was raining miserably and the runway was a grass runway. We barely made it over the embankment and darted rather noncommittally into the laundry room over the canal. Hill and Amon constantly argued and yelled at each other. Hill was a captain but only had a visual pilot's license, Amon understood instruments, and I think that's where the trouble came from. I sat in the back and had no idea of ​​anything. Anyway, we ended up in London. I didn't feel like I wanted to be a pilot or have an airplane." - 8

"The impression improved when my cousin of a clear friendly tone took me in his Cessna 150 for a sightseeing flight over the Inn Valley. Everything was nice and smooth and friendly, and flying so easy. The view over both sides of the Alps suggested a direttissima between Salzburg, where I now lived, and Ferrari. I became a student pilot and I loved practicing in Salzburg-Bologna. That's how flying got a meaning." - 8

"Stay in your own house on the edge of the forest. Breakfast with Marlene. Fifteen minutes drive to Salzburg Airport, Kemetinger has already fired up the Golden Eagle, an hour later she sails into Bologna. Sante Ghedini picks me up. Two hours at Ferrari's circuit. Enzo Ferrari himself comes over from his office. We're going to Cavallino for lunch, I can do Polsk at the old man's (unfortunately very important). Another hour of testing. Off to Bologna. At half past five I walk in at Marlene's door, like someone who comes home from the office happily. To imagine that day with a scheduled airliner was impossible to fit in twice a six-hour drive: a horror." - Niki's routine

"A few years earlier I had been a hopelessly incompetent loser in high school, in my apprenticeship as a mechanic and then again at high school, and now I was playing the great analyst of Formula 1. I had a good sensorium in my butt, I could feel it Car lived, also in details." - 10

"I met Marlene in the summer of 1975. She was Curd Jürgens' girlfriend and as such the lady of the house at a party in Salzburg. She has a Spanish mother and an Austrian father, was born in Venezuela and mostly grew up there. She has a lot more Spanish than Austrian character. The name Niki Lauda meant absolutely nothing to her. Marlene was infinitely far away from racing and asked the most hair-raising questions, like a child. A few months later she definitely didn't marry the racing driver in me, she took that with her without realizing what she was getting into. As a racing driver you need naïve optimism ("nothing's going to happen to me anyway"), otherwise you wouldn't be able to get into the car at all, and Marlene was willing to believe in it just as I said she would. She was endlessly carefree, and before she knew she was right in the middle of the horror. I was 27, world champion and on my way to my second title. Before I got into the Ferrari on August 1, 1976 at the Nürburgring, Austrian journalists told me that the Reichsbrücke in Vienna had collapsed a few hours earlier. It was a strange feeling: that the biggest bridge in the city, in the whole country, could simply collapse in a second." - p11

"Frank Gardner in a Cortina Lotus had won. At the podium he put down the wreath and descended with tears in his eyes. He had just been told that Jim Clark had died in Hockenheim. Jim Clark was also my big idol, so that also affected me. What particularly bothered me about it was that it was caused by a technical defect, back then there weren't safety bolts in the rims, and if you had a puncture, the tire could jump off the rim. So Clark simply took a turn on the long straight in Hockenheim and pulled straight into the forest without it being his fault. That kept me busy for a long time." - p16

"First, there were these microscopic slivers of burned face shield (balaclava) that had been transplanted with the fresh skin I had developed an allergy to. He got 70 such things out of me in a three-day ordeal with tweezers, carefully treating everything with peppermint oil. The ears, or what was left of them, were raw flesh and painful beyond belief. Willy called the surgeon, who said: The rest of it will probably rot off as well, then the pain will be gone." Willy marched down to Lake Fuschi and dug up some roots, to which he said things like: That helped the Crusaders. As a result, I was able to sleep for the first time in three days, and for 15 hours, and two weeks later I had skin again over what was left of my ears. Then it happened incredibly quickly, also because I was so eager to return to normal life. I soon started running and strength training, and I noticed the progress every day." - p25

"Hannes was a good conversation partner in my euphoria for the future Lauda Air, which was already going through my head in 1977. He had an idea for the "style" that we wanted to develop, for our self-representation and our self-image. We talked about flying, about upcoming planes and an upcoming airline. No detail was too small for us, no fantasy too big. It "It was just fun to sand the contours of a vision. Hannes sketched a jumbo tail and painted a red L in it. This is what the logo could look like. No type of aircraft was better suited than the jumbo, because of the corresponding slant of the towering tail. However, since there was no company yet, the corporate design of the Lauda Air could initially only be applied to my crash helmet: a double red L, lightly scripted, on a white background." - p31

"In the years that followed, Hannes Rausch accompanied me to almost every Grand Prix. Of course there was also Bertl Wimmer. Bertl lived in my (Salzburg) area, worked as a salesman for motorcycles and mopeds for KTM and, through his enthusiasm for motor sports, came into contact with Walter Wolf and finally mine. Our common interests were motorcycling, flying and all kinds of nonsense, and by about 1975 we were friends. Ideally, I packed a team of four as a Grand Prix accompaniment in the Citation or the Lear Jet: Marlene and Messrs. Willy Dungl, Bert! Wimmer, Hannes Rausch (one for the body, one for the heart and one for the brain", at least according to Hannes' interpretation)." - p31

"I only passed the theory part of the exam on the second attempt in Braunschweig. For the practical part, I needed a long-range flight, so I shipped the flight instructor and examiner to the Lear in New York and then flew on to the US Grand Prix in Long Beach. Bernie Ecclestone was already waiting there, saying he urgently needed to go to Las Vegas. So I flew him there. Before I left, I flipped through the messages that Bernie had brought me from the hotel. I should urgently call Frau Maier, our housekeeper in Salzburg. In the phone box at the airport I was told: "An Buam ham S', an Buam ham S'." Our first child was born: Lukas." -p44-45

"Of course, I also drove a full Formula 1 season. When I came home from the Monaco Grand Prix, our kitchen was slightly damaged. Did the dogs behave like that?" I asked Mariene. "No," she said. I had a tantrum" She had her fit during the TV broadcast from Monaco when she saw Didier Pironi try to pass me at Mirabeau, riding on the back of my Brabham and missing my neck by six inches before slamming into the guardrail . Pironi's maneuver was so bloody stupid that you could get angry about it. But that wasn't why Marlene dismantled the kitchen. She was just so incredibly angry because she once again had to watch what she had been doing since the Nürburgring in 1976 knew exactly: That racing is idiotic. Everyone who takes part is idiots, and I, right in the middle, played a brilliant leading role: Congratulations!" and a kitchen box was due. When I got back into the car six weeks after the fire accident, she didn't stop me because she basically allows everyone every freedom, but she thought I was stupid. She thought the whole racing sport was stupid, our rituals, the rush, the heartlessness, and that you can cripple yourself. Marlene never again had a relaxed relationship with racing. My selfishness was strong enough not to let that deter me. I believed, and I do the same today, that in a partnership, too, the free development of the individual must be out of the question. If there isn't room for it, it's just not the right partnership." -p47-48

"Back then, I actually wore beige lace-up velvet trousers every day that had a burn hole over which Marlene had sewn blue fabric in the shape of a fish. I also wore a beige Niki sweater and the shoes painted by Hannes." - p51

"Gilles Villeneuve died in Zolder on May 8, 1982. I liked him for his charm and naturalness, admired his willingness to surrender unconditionally to sweet madness (which, however, had nothing to do with his death fall). In the last hours of his life I had two typical experiences with him. Thursday night at the hotel: I was about to go to bed and heard the flop-flop-flop-flop of a helicopter gone mad. It was pitch black and a searchlight scanned the area in front of the hotel, trying to sort out pylons and cables. The thing did land, it was Villeneuve's Agusta 109, a nice twin engine with retractable gear, Gilles had an immaculate Clarification: "I flew away from Nice when it was still quite light." The next day, first training, first ride. I happened to come out of box right behind Gilles and saw him in the allerer. flew out of the first curve. When we stood together later, I asked him out of genuine interest why a person would throw themselves out in the very first corner of a training session. He said: "Niki, I can't do it different." There was something in him, that simply does not allow him to drive in a calculating or cautious manner, no matter what the track (at the beginning of a training session, the ideal line is not yet sanded clean, that only becomes apparent after a number of laps) That was the last thing I heard from him heard: "I can't help it." - p61-62

"Now, sitting still on the plane, sadness, worry, anger and the burning uncertainty, of course also self-pity seeped into me: What had I done that I had to be the center of such an oversized disaster? In Kennedy I was finished, physically and mentally. I trotted to the PanAm counter, handed over my ticket. The Man looked at it, looked at me, made two dashes through, gave me the ticket and said Stand By". I hadn't bothered with the ticket before, no- had no idea I was stand by to Washington. When the PanAm man said "stand by", I didn't give a damn for the first time in six days. I thought I did like me Out of. Tilt Then again: I have to go to Washington. But how? should i cry shouldn't I cry? I was remote controlled, but the helmsman was not at the post I turned and walked back into the hall and squatted down. I couldn't do more. As if I had been beaten and can no longer hit back. I stared at the ticket without any realization. I almost passed out, I didn't care, I couldn't take it anymore. I would sit here, just sit there I couldn't sleep either. Except for race fans, no dog in America knows me, but now everything was different. - p139

"I flew from London to Salzburg to see Marlene and the children. Marlene was still completely distraught. The ten days that had passed since the crash hadn't lessened her shock. Lukas also showed concern, only Mathias was quite relaxed, listened to a lot and said he was going to play tennis." - p149 (about the plane crash)

"Lukas then came out with the fact that jokes about it were already circulating at school. For example, if you don't love your wife anymore, then send them with the Lauda Air."" -p150

"Niki Lauda's wife loves the neighbors was the headline in August 1989. With a photo (not of the neighbors on Ibiza, but of me), the report took up half the front page. The lover was not only described ("he is 33, tall, blond, blue-eyed"), but also called by name. It was the partner, now husband, of Marlene's sister Renate and one of our closest friends So they didn't bother with even a minimum of research. Since Renate was pregnant at the time, we were able to win the lawsuit against "Bild", which is otherwise hardly possible in such cases in Germany. By and large, the tabloid writes what it wants." - p240

"When the first journalist somewhere heard that I had an illegitimate child, he confronted me about it. "That's right," I said, but it doesn't help anyone if it's in the newspaper, not the child, not the mother, not the father and his family." right Okay, said the journalist and didn't write a word. Over time, others found out about it, too, and I said to them: 80 Yes, it's true, but anyway, he's known about it for a long time. He doesn't write it because he's helping me with it." They didn't write it either, and at some point quite a lot of people knew about it, at least beyond the narrow circle. None of them developed the ambition to make a particularly nice headline with the private life of Niki Lauda. Until at some point a German writer from wind and put it boldly in his newspaper, then followed short confirmations in the Austrian newspapers, but Christoph was already in kindergarten age. That's how my mother experienced it, for example. In her slightly crumpled Schönbrunner German she said: Niiiki, did that have to be?"- and never a word of it again." - p241-242

"Christoph is a bright fifteen-year-old growing up in Vienna and with whom I have little contact. We see each other about three times a year, so of course no sensible father-son relationship can develop from that. I only have one family, it stays that way, married or divorced, it doesn't matter. I have a bad conscience that it happened," and I can't get rid of it either. The situation presents itself as unsolvable in the sense of a result that could make everyone happy. I don't want to cut myself in half, and I can't see a middle ground that I could reasonably walk. Christoph grew up completely differently than the children under Marlene's and my influence. I feel the difference very strongly, but of course it's okay." -p242

"Marlene is my life person. She has uncanny strength and security, and she rests in the midst of a chaos she beautifully crafts." -p242

"I had lived with a very disciplined young lady for seven years and married Marlene within a few months. I didn't take it that terribly seriously, I just wanted to know what it's like: being married, and Marlene was exactly the kind of person who could understand it well." - p243

"When I confessed the illegitimate child to her, she was hurt but decided that if I wanted that to happen, nothing about our family should change. Of course I wanted. If we did eventually divorce, she demanded, "I'll have the kids, the dogs, the camera." So we continued this weird kind of marriage that we were both comfortable with. A relationship can only be based on how two people understand each other, and we got along well. I remained stubbornly focused on my egocentric life, racing, company, and Marlene accepted that. Normally you can only choose between family and freedom, I could choose as much as I wanted from both. I could lean my head back when I felt like it and when I felt fit I could run away and do whatever I wanted. Everyone knows that I wasn't a saint anyway. But even there it depends on what is ultimately the case remains. It's easy for me because I can decide for myself in this constellation. We do not need to discuss the responsibility for the three. If Marlene pulls the lace and says, what now?, I'm there immediately. Just: She has never pulled the lace. I know exactly the limits. And if the boundaries need to be shifted, then we'll shift them against me too. But since Marlene gives me such freedom, thank God, I also live it. But when push comes to shove, she always wins. Just as we got married, we divorced in 1991. It didn't matter and it didn't change anything. The official in Thalgau asked about the reason for the divorce. ..There isn't one, I want a divorce." "It's impossible without a reason." ..What could be a reason, for example?" ..If someone wasn't at home for six months." I haven't been home for six months." ..Are you sure?" Yes, of couse." "The marriage is divorced." On leaving, Marlene said: "The children, the dogs, the camera." I was flabbergasted. It had worked the way she always said it would. And nothing changed. Of course I took all the steps to protect her, and also signed the house in Salzburg over to her." -p244

"For five years only the very closest circle knew about it. Marlene wanted to spare the children who went to school in Hof near Salzburg the public discussion of our private lives. So we kept quiet" - p244

"Accordingly, it turned out that Lukas had nothing in mind with cars and motorcycles. He just got comfortable with cycling, that was all. I resented how he grew up with no technical spark. I had to do something. When he was about thirteen, I bought him a small motocross bike for his size. He was super excited about it, but for two months he just started the thing up in the garage and went wrrrrmmm, wrrrrmmm. No, he doesn't want to drive, he doesn't want to. One Saturday the whole family was sitting at the Schloßwirt in Anif, it was a wonderful day. I said to Lukas, let's drive home quickly, I'll show you something. On the lawn in front of our house I put him on the front of the motorcycle, sat on the back, grabbed the handlebars, showed him how to use the gas and clutch. But he only stopped in the middle of the handlebars and wasn't willing to move his hand towards the accelerator. So we drove around in the meadow, two on a small bike. It seemed like a solid hour before he finally parted his hands enough to get the gas and clutch. I suddenly jumped off. He roared like crazy, made a slow giant arc, and I had to run alongside. In the end I had to catch him because he couldn't get his feet on the ground properly. Very slowly, in first gear, he trembled through the meadow and scolded me. Anyway, he was on his way. - p246

"The next time I came to Salzburg, Lukas said: So what?" Come down with me. I'm going to go motocross." "Come down." He dressed carefully. Leather outfit, boots, fall home, the whole fuss. I stood there bored and waited for him to shake his way out. He jumped on his motorcycle and sped out of the garage on the back wheel - an image I'll never forget become. I ran to Mathias.,,What's the matter?" The little brother then told me that the day after our first trip, Lukas had gone down to the farm boys on his motorbike, and he had driven with them until he could, becoming more and more ambitious, and in the end totally stupid." - p247

"With Mathias, the result was the same, only the way to get there was much easier. He wouldn't have gotten up on his own, so I put him on the bike, said that's the gas, that's the clutch, he said yes, I know. He drove away, made a detour, came back and drove unsharpened to the garage door. ,,Are you dumb?" "I don't know where the brake is." He was fearless. Full throttle from the first second. And his brother was such a protégé. Anyway, they started riding motocross together" - p247

"If you really aspire to a motocross career, you should start just after walk school. So it was by no means too early when Lukas and Mathias, aged 14 and 12 respectively, asked for decent motocross machines for further training. Marlene had a fit, but I told her to let her go: Motocross is the hardest thing there is. You will never get ahead. There's no money to be made, the sport is just exhausting, dusty and dirty, they'll soon stop doing it." Marlene accepted and I bought the boys two 125 Hondas. They drive it really well and there is no longer any difference between the two. They are equally wild and equally good. I hope that it doesn't turn into a motocross career, and that suggests that they're jumping around like crazy out of sheer jokes and frolics. But they lack the seriousness of cardio, running and weight training every day, so I believe I think the racing bacillus will eventually suffocate in the eternal dust of motocross. Marlene has now fully embraced the kids' hobby, drives the machines back and forth, checks in between Barcelona and Ibiza." - p248

"My mother survived him by eighteen years. I didn't see her very often either, but there was always a bond and affection, maybe there was also a hidden longing for the family that had been lost so to speak. Her last days were moving. She had cancer, only wanted therapy up to a point, and then no more. Brother Florian and I took turns at her bedside for the last week and never left her alone. They were important days for me and for this last remnant of family. I think after all our mother understood that she had sons who loved her. Now only Florian is left. We had always had little contact, but after the death of our mother we became closer again. He lives his life completely differently from me, hasn't done anything in all his 46 years that I would call work, but that's by no means criticism, on the contrary, I admire him for it. He studied but didn't finish, did this and that, was always happy, and because of them Family circumstances he could also afford it." - p250

"I never had a problem with my appearance after the accident. problem That's what I look like, that's it. I therefore only had the medical technically necessary operations on the eyes and ears chen, but no plastic surgery. James Hunt, my 1976 World Cup rival, said the accident was the best thing that could have happened to me: "You finally have a face to look at." - p253

"In the meantime, an Austrian brewery had expressed interest in providing me with a Gösser"-Kapperl, green of course. Practical and unsentimental as I am, I thought five million schillings is a lot of money these days, so why shouldn't I have one green Kappl marching around?” I really didn't have any major concerns and made a preliminary contract. Then I showed up at the company with the green Kapperl on a trial basis. The employees were stunned. They thought I wasn't quite tight anymore. Lauda can't wear a green cap, he can't have any other cap but this red thing, and the fact that it says Parmalat isn't an advertising message, it just happens to be written on Lauda's cap. Of course, I have so much respect for symbols and the opinions of the employees that I allow myself to be taught. So I canceled the Gösser lecture with difficulty, wept briefly and violently over the beautiful coal and politely put the red cap back on. It will probably stay that way, I think." P254

"I had just come back from Miami, with the flu, overworked, overtired, came to the Viennese apartment next to the Hotel Sacher and suffered a heart attack. I fell to the ground, unable to move. With the utmost effort, I crawled to the phone, but who should I call? Emergency call, ambulance? It was the time of my worst argument with the AUA, and even in my fear of death I couldn't give them the triumph that the red Kappl was being carried out of the Sacher-Haus on a stretcher. So Willy Dungl, but he wasn't there. I asked for a call back, extremely urgent. Meanwhile, still on the ground, I scribbled notes for Marlene, account numbers and so on, farewell. After hours I think Dungl finally called. I'm having a heart attack, I said, please take me to the hospital discreetly. Willy and his wife picked me up, took me out of the house and straight to the general hospital, where on the Cardiac station everything was already prepared. First check: everything ok. healthy heart, as in the last pilot examination. Infinite relief, however wrong with unchanged Pains. So it could only be a misaligned vertebra, a pinched nerve, which is Dungl's specialty anyway (actually it was the fifth thoracic vertebra, I think). I'll take you straight to Gars, where I can treat you properly," said Dungl. I was dragged to Willy's car in the hospital yard. It came to me like a rocket from the subconscious Remembering Willy Dungl's car skills. ..Who's driving?" I asked, suddenly wide awake. I'll drive," said Dungl. I whimpered, "Let me drive, Willy."- p272-3

"The greatest driver personality over my 25-year span has been Ayrton Senna. The strongest, the best, innovative, extremely sensitive as a driver and as a person. He dealt with racing perfectly and with unbelievable intensity. He had everything under control and was creative in all his ideas. He was warm-hearted and friendly and inspired me as a person, although his religiosity was completely alien to me" - p291

"At the time of the 1993 Spanish Grand Prix, I tried to lure him to Ferrari. I met him in his Barcelona hotel room and told him how great it was to immerse himself in the Ferrari myth. But he didn't give a damn about myth and said he was only interested in a car that he could win races in. We didn't even get to talk about money, and in the end he probably drove for Williams almost free of charge in 1994 because he basically had to buy Prost out." - p292

Hope you enjoyed the read! When I finish the next book I'll try to get it out. Also tagging @f1yogurt

[signalhill-if]

I HAVE AN ASK that I actually thought of while working earlier so HERE GOES c:

Lets say, the world didn’t go to shit, and our beloved characters are transported into the year 2023. What are they doing? How are they holding up? Job wise, and just in general? How is what they’re doing different from canon, now that things like social media and all that ‘fun’ stuff is around, if it’s different at all?

Thank you for the question! And also thank you to the anon who asked a very similar question that I forgot to answer 🥲

Rather than just saying what they'd do if they were in the present, I'm gonna sorta Modernify their canon lives because it's fun :) Also, SPOILERS BEWARE, I'm obviously not including anything super spoilery about the plot but if you want the character's backstories revealed naturally in the game then maybe don't read because there's a bunch of new stuff here!

Doc's trajectory in life is a lot different, in a world where he can actually get a proper education. His dad was a veterinarian for a horse racing place, and he didn't exactly have the most wealthy upbringing, but he was comfortable and learned a lot about horses. His dream was always to attend medical school, but money was tight- until he started dating Yvette in his first year of university, who helped him get into dealing drugs. After getting his MD, he started working at a not-for-profit local clinic, and oversees their needle exchange program. He still owns a sniper rifle in our universe, but he doesn't use it (usually)

Yasmin is the daughter of a prominent media mogul who was recently assassinated, putting her even more in the public eye than she already was. She had a wealthy but miserable youth, one of those rich kids who was privately tutored and never really had friends, y'know? At a young age, her mother died, and she's been in a spiral ever since. She had a brief but stormy relationship with KC in college. Since then, Yasmin's become a minor social media star, posting moody selfies and doing a lot of drugs with her influencer friends- specifically, Yvette.

KC grew up poor with a struggling single father and took the idea of "pulling yourself up by your bootstraps" seriously. She worked throughout high school to get into a good college for business management, with a mix of money saved up from part time work and scholarships. She excelled at soccer in high school and wound up playing for her college's varsity team. Through a mutual "friend" she met Yasmin, and the two of them dated until KC got a job at Yasmin's dad's company and realized how terribly it treated its employees. She got heavily involved in the (successful) effort to organize a union at the company, and since then has been involved in helping other baby unions with their organizing efforts.

Yvette found it hard to stay in the closet from a pretty young age, and growing up in a place where that was frowned upon, he learned to be resilient and self-sufficient. As an adult, he moved to the big city and befriended a wealthy drug dealer while working as an escort. Through some questionably moral events, he wound up in charge of this operation with the other guy... out of the picture. From there, it all happened so fast- buying the club (which he named the Rose and Thorn), the fancy car, the nice condo. Living the dream. But he has his sights set even higher ever since he befriended Yasmin, the heiress to a multimedia throne.

Levi had a sheltered youth, attending private Catholic schools in Quebec alongside his childhood best friend Maxime. He excelled in his studies, but Maxime was always a step ahead of him, especially in the area of religion. Despite being an attentive student, Levi struggled with anger issues and was a target for bullying throughout his youth. When the two were seniors in high school and Levi's long-time bully disappeared under mysterious circumstances, they decided to move away and start a new life together in the big city. Here, Maxime's (or now, Aldrich's) spiritual ideas flourished, getting the attention of people on social media. But being labelled as a cult leader is barely better than their youth.

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 4.5./5

Book Blurb:

New from the author of Seoulmates comes a story of mistaken identities, the summer of a lifetime, and a love to risk everything for.

When Elijah Ri arrives in New York City for an internship at his father’s massive tech company, Haneul Corporation, he expects the royal treatment that comes with being the future CEO—even if that’s the last thing he wants. But instead, he finds himself shuffled into a group of overworked, unpaid interns, all sharing a shoebox apartment for the summer.

When Jessica Lee arrives in New York City, she’s eager to make the most of her internship at Haneul Corporation, even if she’s at the bottom of the corporate ladder. But she’s shocked to be introduced as the new executive-in-training intern with a gorgeous brownstone all to herself.

It doesn’t take long for Elijah and Jessica to discover the source of the mistake: they share the same Korean name. But they decide to stay switched—so Elijah can have a relaxing summer away from his controlling dad while Jessica can make the connections she desperately needs for college recommendations.

As Elijah and Jessica work together to keep up the charade, a spark develops between them. Can they avoid discovery—and total disaster—with their feelings and futures on the line?

Review:

She's the poor girl who had to struggle to get everything she's wanted, he's the rich boy who doesn't want any of the thing's his wealth has given him, and a chance mistake at an airport in which they're mistaken for the other because they share the same name leads to the most unlikely summer internship while they take a chance and live in the other's life and possibly find romance. Jessica Lee has struggled financially all her life, budgeting and just trying to get by. She's finally found an internship that would give her the opportunity to make connections that would help her get recommendation letters to go to college. Elijah Ri is the son of the CEO of the Haneul Corporation and is expected to be the next future CEO despite how much he doesn't want it. Elijah grew up rich, throwing money at problems has been the way he was taught to deal with issues, but it's lonely being forced to live in this lifestyle, being seen as a disappointment by his father, and never being allowed to be himself. Elijah is meant to be working at his dad's company for the summer but when Elijah and Jessica have a mix up at the airport because they share the same Korean name suddenly, Jessica is being treated as the new executive-in-training and being flown first class while Elijah is being put in an internship in a tiny place living with 10 other interns. Elijah and Jessica realize the mix up but come up with the idea to keep up the charade as Elijah wants freedom from his father and wants to actually experience things while Jessica will get the chance to live like the other half for the first time. They both agree to help each other keep up the act but while doing so they begin to spend more time together and explore New York as romance blooms between them, but for two people who come from different worlds and live different lifestyles, can romance work? This was a really cute ya rom com about mistaken identity and two opposites attract. Elijah and Jessica are so different but they work perfectly together, they care about each other and balance each other out. I loved the ending for them and this was just a fun feel good read!

*Thanks Netgalley and Inkyard Press for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[stigmvtas]

EDEN SHEPHERD — ABRIDGED.

welcome to marina, EDEN SHEPHERD ( cis woman, she/her ) ! they are a THIRTY TWO year old who has lived over on PROSPECT HILL for HER ENTIRE LIFE and works as a ANTIQUE'S SHOP OWNER. everyone says they look a lot like GRETA ONIEOGOU. what do you think? — JAMES, 24, THEY/THEM, EST.

MENTIONS OF ASTHMA / MEDICAL CONDITION.

profile.

full name: eden beatrice shepherd.

birthday: september 4th, 1991.

astrology: virgo sun, cancer moon, sagittarius ascending.

sexuality: bisexual.

currently listening to: simulation swarm by big thief.

last known location: [[[cannot be found]]]

PINTEREST.

brief history.

grew up on a commune in prospect hill, not too far off from the rest of the island but far enough. it's very much a like, down to earth, all natural - holistic, hippie community.

asthma / medical condition; from childhood, eden's afflicted with asthma. it's bad enough that she spends more time in town, staying with her grandmother in hyland park, than at the commune.

in high school she decides to move in with her grandmother, her condition never worsening but never getting better - it's easier to be closer to the hospital.

is kind of outcasted in high school because she's known as the weird commune girl, walking barefoot around town just because shoes hurt. eden rarely let it phase her, though.

goes to college for bioengineering, because it feels like a combination of what she loves, and what she experiences on the day-to-day. is accepted to ivy leagues, but chose to stay in marina for her education.

meets someone during her masters program, a tourist who'd been traveling the world, and shortly after her graduation from the program she just. runs off and travels with them. they're kind of serious, but eden doesn't realize that they're that serious until they're proposing to her.

says yes, because what else do you say? they stay together for a good amt of years and are set to marry in greece, but eden gets cold feet and promptly. abandons her fiance at the altar.

moved back to marina after that, and hasn't left again since. it's been a few years since then.

inherited her grandmother's antique shop, but her grandma ada's still alive and kicking, she just didn't want to fuss with the finances anymore. the shop is essentially just ada's home in hyland, but the first floor's taken up by shelves and books and tables filled with old knick knacks, junk, and the occasional actually valuable antique.

facts & temperaments.

asthma / medical condition; took a big risk traveling with her asthma, because after years of being stagnant in progression, it's becoming resistant to treatment. is currently on an experimental medication for it. but she has that thang on her at all times.

a peacemaker. would rather solve other's problems than add to them, or fight with anyone - hates conflict. professional at running away from it. everyone in her family jokes that she should've become a therapist instead of a bioengineer, since she hasn't done much with her degree.

will help you with any task, big or small, without question. will only tease you a little bit, but knows when to let up. likes to be a comforting person, and is personable in the sense where she'll know all your favorites, but you won't know much about her or her issues.

doesn't like to be fretted over, very much likes to do things herself. knows how to fix most things herself, and is constantly doing DIYs around the commune and her grandmother's house.

can be a bit high strung even if she tries hard to not come off like it. needs things under her control, despite how much she says she can go with the flow. very anxiety-ridden!

is very sentimental and doesn't throw away anything that provokes strong memories for her. is minimalist on the outside, but keeps at least one closet just filled with shit that she can't bring herself to throw away, even if it doesn't fit her aesthetic.

doesn't do committed relationships very much, because they kind of scare her? doesn't know how to be fully emotionally intimate, so settles with hookups.

overthinker. can be brutally honest at times, but probably doesn't want to hear it from others. anger is slow and quiet, builds if provoked. master at the silent treatment, and is a lifetime grudge-holder if you do manage to get on her bad side.

[wickedanddeadly]

DJ X's Bio

" I’ve fought beside great warriors, learned battle techniques that could only be mastered over several lifetimes. "

Xavier was born in 1452. As Xavier grew up, he was taught the many painful ways to torture a human when they were to be put to death. When reaching legal age Xavier took on a job of being an executioner. In a lot of ways, you would think one wouldn’t get pleasure out of preforming these kinds of acts out on another human being, but Xavier did. Xavier enjoyed his job to the fullest and would sometimes suggest new ways that one could be punished. Many people including Xavier’s parents thought of Xavier as a cold sadistic human being because after each person he executed he was known for always having a sick looking smile on his face.

Years had passed and past and this would be about the time the great plagues started breaking out all around the world. Authorities ordered fires to be kept burning night and day, in hopes that the air would be cleansed. Substances giving off strong odors, such as pepper, hops, or frankincense, were also burned to ward off the infection. To no avail did this seem to work. Xavier watched his parents die from the rapid spreading plague and quickly finds himself infected as well. Xavier had thought it was death himself coming to claim him but in fact it was none other than a vampire who had come to claim him. Strangely enough instead of killing Xavier he gave him the gift of immortality. Once Xavier awakes this mystery person was nowhere to be found but it wasn’t long before Xavier realized there was something vastly different about himself. It only took a few days for his thirst to kick in and realize exactly what he was “A creature of the night.” It was because of Xavier’s human life and the way he was that made this very easy for him to accept, and in fact he embraced it knowing now he could continue on doing what he loved the most and that was taking away life from others. Years later he would reunite with Kirk and learn he was the vampire who turned him.

A few centuries had passed in which Xavier had mastered the art of Combat, Martial Arts, and earned the title of a Weapons Master. He has been present for many historic battles possibly stretching back to medieval times and has acquainted himself with many renowned warriors and learned strategies of battle and warfare that require decades or even whole lifetimes of study to master. Xavier used his vampire abilities to convince the greatest warriors of that time to train him and each one taught him everything they knew. Xavier had always been a man of few words. He had always felt his actions spoke loud and clear for him without having to use many words. His killing style was always much the same: quickly and with as much pain inflicted as possible.

Xavier has always thrived on fame and power. The thirst for power in the same ways he does for blood.

Towards the arrival of the 21st century, he adopted the alias of DJ X, and became a renowned rave proprietor.

This is when he crossed paths with the lovely Rachel Benton. She proved herself as being particularly useful to himself and his crew. It didn’t take her long to win X’s trust and with that brought her into the inner circle of his tight-knit group. Slowly he began revealing his plans to Rachel and as luck would have it, she had her own issues with the same people he sought to destroy. Things couldn’t have worked out any better. Rachel and X became an item though for now she stayed hidden – should his plans fail it would leave her unknown to any who sought to bring his crew down. Somewhere along the line X and Rachel recruited a young human female who was prefect at helping to draw in the crowds for his Raves. Chanel’s more of a Pet to both X and Rachel, they’ve given her false hope of turning her into an immortal should she continue to do their bidding.

This is when he crossed paths with the lovely Sonya Alexander. Instantly he could feel the raw power that radiated from her. Using his silver tongue and charm it took no time at all before the two became a hot and heavy item. Slowly and surely, he planted thoughts in her head, shared his visions with her and even gave her the boosts she needed to help him see those visions through. No one dared to cross paths with the two, they were a deadly pair – those who didn’t fear them stupidly idolized them. But it was a means to an end. There was only one way to truly break Sonya and get her out of the way. He'd done that very thing by breaking her heart and leaving her. Which opened his door straight to Peter…

X left Santa Carla but not before bagging himself a little prize. While he drew a lot of power from Sonya it just wasn’t enough. He needed more and Peter was going to be the one to give that to him. San Cazador was the place to be if you really wanted to gather a group of young wild ravers who weren’t afraid to indulge in their cravings. His plans were to kill Peter, drain him under the blood moon and absorb all his power. There would be no stopping him and his army of vampires. That was until Edgar and Alan Frog ruined his plans along with the help of Zoe.

Years were spent in Purgatory fighting for his life until Lily, Kirk, Vixen, and himself found their way to freedom. They were on earth again, and he had every plan on taking back up where they had left off. But there was still something missing in his life. All those years spent fighting for his life made him realize how much he wanted his plan to work – now more than ever. When he returned to find Sonya with a Gunner, he had to laugh knowing Rachel had been working her magic on the side lines. He tried to convince Sonya that her place was at his side. Hades paid him a visit asking for his assistance in taking down Sonya’s family and most importantly the dog she was engaged to. X readily agreed to offer his assistance. No matter which side he chose he needed to keep his ass covered. The more people killed off in her family the less for him to have to deal with. But then even Hades turned on him and his Crew. This came with a heavy price. Kirk, Lily, and Vixen placed themselves on the line and one by one X watched as they were dispatched. Sonya was near death and his final act before dying and returning to Purgatory was to heal her since he was the one who knew how to restore her heart to her chest. Hades took the final blow on him, just as Gunner took the final blow on Hades.

This time in Purgatory has been spent along. Lily, Kirk, and Vixen were nowhere to be found. This was the one time he truly feared them to be gone forever. A creature or monster finally besting his family leaving him completely and utterly alone. He’s been in Purgatory for so long he’s lost track of how many years have passed. So much so any thought or hope that he’d find another escape had just become a lost distant thought.

But then it happened … a bright flashing white light rippled in the dark sky above him. The pathway that lead back to the world of mortals. This time it happened much differently, instead of him fighting to get to that portal in the sky it was like something reached out and grabbed him, ripping him through to the other side.

Little does he or anyone else know… He’s the side effect to Sonya’s use of dark magic in resorting her mother.

As of December 2021: X and Rachel have been captured by Darius, and are awaiting interrogation/torture at the hands of Sonya and Gunner.

Powers and abilities

Super Strength, Speed, Agility, Senses and Durability He has a silver tongue which makes him very charismatic and charming – and deadly. Master at all forms of weaponry Immortality Telepathy

Weaknesses

Desiccation Decapitation Damaging the Heart

Basic Stats

Height: 5'10" Hair: Dark Brown Eyes: Blue

Relations

Rachel Benton - Partner / Lover Chanel Dixon – Former Pet Kirk – Deceased Lily – Deceased Vixen – Deceased

Original Actor: Seb Castang

Other Face Claim: Jesse Metcalfe

[ramshacklestar]

@wishkept sent || [THE MAGICIAN] - Are they resourceful? What skills do they possess that help them navigate the world around them? [THE EMPRESS] - Do they participate in or have a self-care ritual? If so, what does their routine look like? [THE HIEROPHANT] - What are important traditions to them, if any? Do they stay true to these traditions, or do they adapt them to fit their current situation? [JUDGMENT] - What was an epiphany/awakening they recently had? Did they realize something that they've been naive to? Did they discover something about themselves? What happened?

The Major Arcana || No Longer Accepting

Magician- Yuuna tries to be a very resourceful person, always aiming to stop the potential issue before it becomes a bigger conflict, as for whether or not she succeeds in such a thing is another story as in a few cases she has unintentionally made a situation worse. Or in one particular case was selfish about her decision and didn’t think of the potential repercussions in freeing her friends from a certain someone, even though she was logically aware those same friends put themselves in that position in the first place. Ever since the first incident where she had played witness to what a full overblot was though she has learned to be constantly on guard, and that goes for the NRC students, the professors and more so the RSA students just because she gets a very off feeling about them and that particular school in general. Of course, that could always be because of the influence from NRC, to say she’s gotten used to her chaotic life while at Night Raven wouldn’t be incorrect. . Empress- Not particularly; I mean we are talking about a girl that barely wears makeup, eye liner being the most she ever wears unless it’s some special event, and has (in a hc of mine) absolutely appalled Vil in the notion that she cleanses her face with just a squirt of hand soap and a wash cloth. She is very meticulous about keeping herself and her clothing clean though which comes from a self-loathing of smelling even slightly foul and trying to maintain some sort of image of having herself together physically at least. She is by no means a germaphobe though, and if she gets into a situation where she ends up coated in dirt or grass stains Yuuna isn’t going to go frantically rushing to the nearest water source to wash it away. . Hierophant- Growing up in an orphanage has kept Yuu for developing any type of traditions, not that she’s complaining by any means. The only real tradition, if you even wanted to call it that, is when a child from the orphanage is adopted she as well as the other children and nursemaids alike will make that last day for the adopted child one to remember by accommodating to what that child may like. For example if they like books being read to them that’ll happen between the residents of the orphanage, if they liked a particular meal that will be the meal of the day for the children and nursemaids alike and so on. This tradition has naturally not been one she’s practiced in Twisted Wonderland as the situation is entirely different in this world, but should she return to her own world (which granted in the main story doesn’t happen) she would like to continue those practices and become one of the nursemaids at the same orphanage she grew up in.  . Judgement- That Crowley is in fact not making any effort to find her a way home and seems to be hiding something big from her. For this particular Yuu this belief started right before book 7 while she Ace, Deuce and Grim were all waiting out the appearance of Mickey since she had figured the mysterious mouse creature might be of more help. It isn’t until after she find out the truth that she in fact cannot return home (in main verse) thanks to Lilia’s UM that she believes herself to be naïve in thinking a mouse, that may not even be real, was somehow going to get her home. And of course her reaction follows the longer hc where she demands Crowley give her answers and all the hurt of being kept in the dark leaves her mentality to finally break.

[hamtigers]

(I’m literally about the leave for work so I don’t have time to fill this out for everyone, so I’ll edit this post later!!!)

Kalith: Grew up with just her mother, so has a very strong attachment to her despite the occasional sass. She’s fiercely protective of her, to the point where it can actually cause problems. She resents the fact that her father wasn’t there, and is the root of a lot of her trust issues. Because of this she despised him; or at least the idea she had in her head of him. She never knew anything beyond what her mother spoke of. Post-SHB, when they met by chance, she got the rest of the truth that couldn’t be sent in letters. She still has difficulty trusting him, and has been struggling to unlearn her aggression towards him, so she mostly just avoids him while she tries to sort out her own issues because in the end she wants her mother to be happy. But if he vanishes again she has told him she will find him and kill him herself.

Izumi: Izumi got along with her parents and loved them greatly, but her restless adventurer spirit left her unwilling to be trapped in her undersea home, even knowing she wouldn't be able to return. It was a bittersweet reunion for her and her father when he suddenly showed up at the front door, since it also meant learning that the rest of her family were dead due to a disaster that struck their home village. She wishes she never had to choose between her family and her desire to travel, but knows she can't undo the past.

She also is treated as family by the blue kojin and views them as one in kind, as when she first left her home she stayed and traveled with them for an extended time so that she could learn more of the world and some basic skills to defend herself before she fully struck out on her own.

Draelkiith: He was separated from his biological parents at a very young age, to the point where he only has the haziest of memories here and there. To this day, he's still not entirely sure if they died, abandoned him, or were forcefully separated, but he doesn't really let it get to him. He had a mentor - a Sharlayan that followed the ideals of Louisoix and came to Eorzea to help - that practically adopted him. he views her as his mother and looked up to her greatly. He hasn't been able to find the woman since he struck out on his own as an adventurer, and hates the lack of closure in not knowing whether she is even still alive.

S'amir: Samir is from a tribal seeker of the sun clan. Due to the nature of the Nunh/Tia hierarchy, he was never personally close with his father. He isn't super close with his birth mother either, the whole tribe essentially raised together cooperatively, so as far as he was concerned he just had A Lot Of Moms. Despite his refusal to live as part of the tribe anymore, he still cares about them as one would family, but being an adventurer has opened his worldview and erased any sense of clan competition from his mindset. If he meets another miqo, regardless of tribe, and even if they are a keeper of the moon, he will treat them as kin to be friendly with. It's certainly caused some strange scenarios, but made him very friendly and approachable. (WoL Samir never fantasias into a Viera either, but it causes bonus fun for normal RP Samir in my mind, bc it means you suddenly have a Viera acting like every Miqo'te they meet is family)

Iekka: I'm not going to lie, because we don't have much info on Veena culture, I'm not entirely sure how her family structure would have been. We know Rava follow the original structure for Viera of the men becoming the protectors of the wood and only return during mating season, but last I knew we genuinely have no idea if this is the case for Veena.

She would have had a standard upbringing in her chilly mountain home, and been at least closer to her mother than her father. She leaves as an adult for her studies while also becoming an adventurer, but is surprised to not find herself homesick. Being away from home made her realize she actually had a fairly neutral outlook - she liked her parents well enough and had no problems with them and does occasionally return to visit, since Veena do not exile those that leave.

Kohaku: They have no memories of their birth parents, but they hold a great affection for their adoptive father, and is one of the few things they allow themselves fond nostalgia over. They were found in the nearby forest at a young age by him, and the hyur shinobi took the sudden appearance of this child with hair as red as the autumn forest as a gift from the kami and chose to raise Kohaku as his own. Of course, Kohaku would long outlive their Hyur father, but they have a lot they know they have him to thank for.

S'seral: Seral hails from the same tribe as Samir, but has a very, very different relationship with the tribe than his 'older brother' does. For one, the Nunh barely acknowledged Seral as part of the tribe at all, as his black fur marked that he was born from his mother having a tryst with an outsider. He and his mother were both looked down on by most of the rest of the tribe, leading him to be very attached to only her. He has a burning hatred for both their Nunh and his mystery father whom he still hasn't met.

He seeks power not to try and become Nunh, but rather because he wants to prove that his mother didnt "sully the strength of the tribe".

What is your WoL's relationship like with their parents, if any, if they remember them?