#and they believe they can reality shift which. I don’t believe in. but I’m not going to be an ass and tell them that because they’re clearl

[badolmen]

Some of you will not enjoy your leftist utopia because you can’t let people believe in harmless things that you personally don’t believe in.

[edensreality]

TIME DOESN'T EXIST , CLOCKS EXIST a theory .

The proof that everything is about shifting if you try hard enough .

Many philosophers agree on the idea that time, in fact, does not exist; we have simply created a segment with that name and adopted it. We all live in a continuous routine created by the grand concept of "time," which ultimately makes us its slaves.

The same concept applies to days, weeks, months, and years. The universe, theoretically, was created about 3.8 billion years ago, but who actually discovered that? The universe is infinite, and it probably—and certainly—has existed for much longer than that.

And now I’ll make you think for a moment : Scientists agree that the universe was created by the Big Bang, while according to Christian and Jewish faith, God created the universe, and in Islamic faith, Allah created it. All these theories lead to the same result and the same question: if there was indeed someone or something that created the universe, what existed before that happened?

None of these theories is confirmed to be true, because no one will ever know where the universe truly originated. We are infinite; our subconscious is spread throughout the entire galaxy and beyond. There are infinite universes and different dimensions, and in each of these dimensions, everyone has their own belief about who truly created the universe. Amidst this infinity, there may be beings with theories and faiths completely different from those on this planet.

What I’m trying to say is that we are not unique; our bodies are just insignificant masses of matter in an infinite universe. Our subconscious and awareness are something different. As I mentioned, we are not unique and never will be. This is why many people are born in this universe and feel they don’t belong here. Consequently, the universe has made reality shifting accessible to them so they can find where they truly believe they belong.

Another theory that can be adopted in this situation is the philosophical question: "If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" Yes, it does.

If you successfuly shift your subconscious between realities and no one is around to see you do it, have you still changed?

Yes, non-believers, just because a person doesn't have proof that their reality has changed, doesn't mean they haven't changed, you don't live in their head to know what they did or didn't do. Just because you failed in your attempt doesn't give you the right to spread your tantrum on them. Get a life, a job, maybe.

@edensreality

[quarterlifekitty]

okay can I ask for needy Simon who just got back from deployment × his (whatever the reason S/O) who just does not want to have sex.

like maybe they're tired or sore. eithor way I want you see how you'd interpret Simon's reaction to that.

i almost would expect him to deal with himself and then try to get to the root of what's bothering reader, but idk. maybe he's stressed and irritable after deployment.

id love your idea!

I mean, it depends on the kind of relationship/characterization we’re going for, obviously. And I think it also depends a lot on why you’re saying no!

To be honest, I don’t see Simon as being horny post deployment. I think he’s usually disgusted with himself at that point (I’m a believer of Simon hating himself lol), for dragging a killer home to your door and expecting you to keep loving him.

Then again, maybe he wants to fuck you to ground himself. To come back to reality, to come home, to be Simon again and shed the Ghost persona for a while.

If it’s something where you feel physically not up to it, like you’re sore or tired, his first offer is going to be that you can pillow princess tonight, lol. He’ll do all the work. You can fall asleep if you’ve gotta, you don’t need to do anything, just let him go to work. He can even just eat you out— he doesn’t have to fuck you with his cock, he just wants to be close. He wants to make you cum so he can prove to himself that there’s a way in which he’s good to you.

If you’re emotionally not up to it, his focus is going to shift to figuring that out. If it’s something he can quell quickly, like you not feeling very sexy, then he will. If it’s something that’s not gonna be settled by just him, and he can’t fix it tonight, then yeah. He’s probably gonna go jerk off somewhere while holding your panties from the hamper to his nose so he can pretend to be next to you. It’s not gonna hit the spot, but just let him cuddle you afterwards and he’ll be fine.

If you’re just “not in the mood”, he’s not gonna outwardly tell you he doesn’t care, but he in a way… he doesn’t believe you. Well, he does, but he thinks your mood is subject to influence. So he’ll strike a deal with you— give him five minutes to get you in the mood, and if it doesn’t work he’ll leave you be. He doesn’t even have to touch you. Just let him tell you all the things he dreamed of doing to you, of doing for you, while he was gone.

That last one has never failed him. Not once.

[s4ku-sh1ftz]

How to use loa to shift

I am aware there are many posts like this, and i read a lot of them and gathered my important points into this post:

So before starting i want to say that the info i’m about to give you may seem like too simple to believe but you need to understand shifting is not a process. Shifting is instant. The time you take to believe and feel that shifting is instant may take a while bc shifttok is so packed with different interpretations of how you should shift

1. Your imagination is the only reality. Your subconscious has no idea of the difference between imagination and real world thus why you feel real emotions when “imagining” your dr. But when you imagine it you say to urself “i’m only imagining my dr bc i’m not there” which reminds your subconscious that you are not in your dr. If you don’t tell urself “i’m not in my dr” while imagining your dr and instead tell urself “i am actually experiencing this, i am in my dr”, congrats you are in your desired reality

2. This means you need to stop giving power to your 3D or physical world (ur cr) you need to ignore it and feel indifferent to it because as i said, it’s not the real reality. This may be hard but you need to do it. Stop reacting to ur 3D (ofc that doesn’t mean act like it doesn’t exist. If you hurt yourself in ur 3D don’t ignore it but simply reming urself that it is not the real reality ) observe the unwanted (ur 3D ) but DO NOT ABSORB. Observe ur 3D with the knowledge that you have shifted

Now how to use this to shift?

3. To shift, and this has to be constant and presisted, simply decide to shift. You do not need a method. Just rn as ur reading or wtv go “i am now in my dr” and from now on i forbid you to think otherwise. If you have a doubt, simply remind urself that that doubt has no meaning bc you are in your dr. Now congrats you have shifted. DO NOT LOOK IN THE 3D for validation of this claim. You are the validation, u are the master shifter, you just shifted. Now, how do you feel? I mean this is great after 3 years you shifted! Feel the feeling of relief that you are in ur dr imagine it. You can close ur eyes or not. But do not force your dr onto your 3D ur subconscious will do that for you. Also. You have now shifted do not act in a way as if u didn’t shift. Why would you need to do a method tonight if you’re already in your dr?

Why should you even care about the 3D?? You shifted in your imagination or 4D so thats what’s important. Don’t wake uo everyday hoping your 3D changed bc this makes ur subconscious think that u haven’t shifted, therefore making you doubt. Just let it marinate in your brain. Every day few times a day take 5-10 minutes to yourself reminding urself that you are in fact in your dr and feel that there is nothing else for you to do now that you have shifted

The trick is to not think or do anything to contradict your claim. You are in your dr and thats that. Do not make videos about how you haven’t shifted bc you have do not feel sorry for urself bc your 3D hasn’t changed yet. DONT WORRY ABOUT HOW AND WHEN UR 3D SHIFTS I FORBID U TO DO IT. DO THIS FOR URSELF FOR A FEW DAYS step out of your comfort zone of negative thoughts. You are in your dr right now feel like it think like it

Stop looking for shifting advice on tiktok you don’t need it you have shifted. Stop looking at “i know why you haven’t shifted” posts those don’t refer to u

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞arguements with skz

✰ pairings :  ot8!skz x gn!reader

✰ genre : angst

✰ warnings :  heavy angst, mentions of toxic behavior in some, misunderstandings, failing to communicate

✰ word count :   2.7k + words

part 2

౨₊ৎ chan

"why are you so angry about all this?"

“you’re seriously asking me that?” his brows raised in disbelief as he spoke.

this what you two had been dealing with lately. unnecessary fights and constant bickering over anything. even today, a weekend, which chan called his ‘golden day’ , you two were yelling across the room.

“yes i am. and i’ll keep asking till you stop acting petty,” you looked him dead in the eye now. your faces were edging closer and closer to his, a defiant glare sparkling in your eyes. chan glared back, but he looked away as quickly, not being able to look at you when you two were fighting. he was used to the warm and admiring gazes, but not these sharp and angry stares. it made his stomach churn with the thought, what if you both got tired of fighting one day?

“if you’re not going to open your mouth no one will be sleeping tonight,” your voice snaps him back to reality, he silently stares at the floor with his head hung low.

“you know i hate him, don't you? i’ve told this story to you like a thousand times already and yet you still talked to him! do you think that’s fair?” he raised his voice and immediately regretted it. but there was no taking it back now. words can only be taken back in laptops or phones, not in real life.

“i just talked to him for barely even two minutes, chan! you’re being ridiculous at this point. do you think this is fair?” you cock your eyebrow at him, not hesitating to raise your voice as well since he walked down that path first.

“it doesn’t matter how long you talked, the point is you talked even after knowing our rough past. it’s almost like you don’t care about me or my feelings anymore! you’ve changed. you’ve become. . . selfish,” ouch. that had to hurt. and chan noticed the way your eyes instantly dulled. he licked his lower lip anxiously and watched as your frown deepened.

there were no further words uttered from your side which made him realise just how far he went, “babe. . . i- sorry,” the words were stuck in his throat and he could practically feel the tears building in his eyes as you took a shaky breath. he took a step closer and raised his hand to touch your face, but you avoided that and walked away.

maybe it was selfish indeed. or maybe not, he wished to not answer that as he sat on the couch and dragged a hand across his face filled with guilt. and as he stared at the hallway where you walked out, he could only hope to turn back the time and undo his mistake. but for now, he needed to wait. or fight for you.

౨₊ৎ minho

minho let out a frustrated groan when he felt the couch dip beside him. he threw a mere glance, before opening his laptop and typing something. it was unusual of him to act this frustrated and even when you tried to talk to him he glared in your way.

“i understand you’re having a bad day but it doesn’t mean that you can act however you want,” you muttered and scooted away from him before crossing your arms over your chest.

“then simply don’t understand,” he muttered nonchalantly and leaned closer to the laptop screen as he typed. this infuriated you even more.

“can you at least pretend to care? i’m not a statue sitting beside you!” his gaze shifted to you and he pressed his lips into a straight line.

“of course i will! should i even leave my job and tell my boss that my partner wanted to argue with me while i work?” sarcasm dropped all over his tone and it made you nauseous. you couldn’t believe your ears thay minho, lee minho was acting this way. he rolled his eyes and muttered a ‘thought so’ , upon seeing you go quiet and diverted his gaze back to the laptop in front of him.

“why do you have to make everything so difficult? why can’t you just talk like normal people do?” your gaze hardened and he could feel it. rolling his eyes, he switched his gaze back to you and saw you, a new you. your jaw was clenched harshly it was almost as if you were a ticking time bomb, just finding the right time and you could explode.

but minho was no less. the last thing he wanted was to submit his work after his deadline. and time was ticking as always. it doesn’t wait for him.

“the world doesn’t revolve around you! you need to know that. i have submissions to make and i can’t afford to lose my job when i’m this close to getting promoted,” with a final look he picked up his laptop and marched into your shared room. you poked your inner cheek with a tongue and wiped a lone tear that dripped on your cheek. this was going to be one hell of a night. and what hurt you even more is that he didn't even try.

౨₊ৎ changbin

changbin just unlocked the door to your shared apartment and quietly took off his shoes before slipping in the flip-flops. his heart dropped out it’s chest when he saw the date and time. it was two minutes past three. and he wasn’t surprised when the lights flicked on and there you stood, with an exhausted expression and wearing formals.

“shit. . . babe i’m so sorry-“

“you’re sorry?” your scoff definitely took him back. he stared at you nervously and felt his palms get clammy.

“if you’re sorry then you wouldn’t have forgotten our second anniversary! if you’re sorry then you wouldn’t have forgotten our booking! and if you’re really sorry then you would’ve at least called!” you yelled loudly and he could feel himself grow annoyed even though he was at fault.

“babe, i’ve had a tiring day and a bad headache. could you please not shout?” his soft tone took you by surprise but there was disappointment all over your face as he simply began to walk away.

“that’s it then? you’re just walking away like that? like a coward running away from his problems?” your throat felt dry when his head turned and his eyes met yours. his brows were furrowed in anger and he took a step towards you.

“me? a coward? if working my ass off means i’m a coward then maybe i am one. but i’m not running away from my problems. i’m simply solving them at the right times,” he muttered and gave you a tight smile.

“right time, huh? then why can’t you appear at the right times during our dates?” you replied, weakly. you were tired too. tired of his excuses, his empty promises, his apologies. they felt like nothing anymore. he had let you down too many times.

he opened his mouth to say something but closed it back again realising it could worsen the situation. with a soft sigh, he pressed his lips to your head and muttered a sorry before walking away.

maybe, the right time required you both to sit down and talk calmly.

hyunjin

“baby,” you hummed in response, making him continue, “i have a tour coming up so i’ll be gone for two months.”

the words slipped his mouth so easily as if he almost didn’t care. he came back home a week ago. out of which, he spent more than half of his time occupied at the company.

“you just came back!” the exasperation was visible in your tone and hyunjin bit his lip, feeling guilty. he cupped your face and said, “i’ll call you everyday, i promise.”

with a glare you shrugged his hands off and sat straighter to get your point clear, “if i wanted a boyfriend who can only call me why didn’t i just go for long distance?”

hyunjin’s expression changed. he ran a hand through his hair harshly, “i thought you knew what you were getting to when you started dating me.”

“yes i did! i still do. but that doesn’t change the fact that you have the upper hand in your life. which means you should be able to make some time for me?” it felt pathetic, to beg for his time. to sit there at home waiting for him. always. like the desperate being you were. and you began to even pity yourself.

“how long do i have to wait for you hyun? just how long?” and as the tears finally slipped through, hyunjin pulled you in a tight hug. he let you hit him. he let you curse him. and in the end he didn’t let you walk and slip away. but maybe, trying harder would be better. the thing that stung the most was time. time that he didn't have for you. time that he promised he would give, but never did. maybe it was time to take some right decisions for both of you.

౨₊ৎ han

you had been trying to get your boyfriend to talk to you for about 15 minutes now. it was a chore. it was exhausting. but you knew something was wrong and you weren't going to let him suffer alone.

“what’s your problem?” he snapped. annoyance written bold on his forehead as he stared at you, waiting for an answer.

“you’re too unusually quiet today,” you muttered under your breath but he managed to hear it.

it was one of those days where the two of you didn’t hold back.

“oh so now you decide whether i talk or not?” you sighed noticing him still look annoyed.

“don’t put words in my mouth jisung,” your eyes warned him, and he snapped himself out of it before covering his face with his hands.

“can you just go away for now?” he whispered and looked at you. he looked so . . . tired.

“is that a request or a warning?” your joke had no smiles, neither out of you nor him. he expectantly looked at you making you bitterly nod to yourself.

“always has to be me,” and even though it reached his ears he gave no expression, seemingly feel his head throb with thinking too much. he slammed his hands on the desk it made him feel better, maybe not much. but it did not fill the gap in his chest. and it hurt him to reach this point.

౨₊ৎ felix

“lix, i don’t think i can do this anymore,” you muttered and looked away knowing that one look at his face would have you running back in his arms. you had become that weak for him. that weak that you couldn’t resist him or his lies.

“what do you mean baby?” he looked so confused that you almost felt guilty, but then you remembered that he was just being innocent. as if he didn’t lie to you a hundred times. as if he didn’t cause you pain and misery almost everyday.

“i’m tired of you, lix. i’m also tired of us. how long are you going to make me suffer?” your tone caught him by surprise. he stared at you baffled, trying to find words to make you stop speaking like that anymore but he chose to remain quiet when he saw that look of sadness take up on your expression.

“i know we fight a lot babe but i swear i love you,” he held your hands in his hands and pressed a tender kiss while looking at you.

there it was. those words he uttered again, just like always. he would hurt you and then later on he would sweet talk you. and you had grown extremely tired of it.

shrugging his hands off you took a step back, “that’s it felix! if you try to manipulate me once more i’m breaking up with you!”

his brows furrowed in confusion. he didn’t know what you were playing at, but he wasn’t going to back off after being told those words.

“manipulate? i’m simply trying to remain calm! but looks like all my efforts are going in vain,” hurt spread all across his face as he said it. maybe you overthinking it, or maybe not. but one thing was clear, you both hurt each other in ways you didn’t know.

“you always do this! make promises you can’t keep and then talk me out of it,” and even though you stood firm with your decision, you weren’t a fool to not notice the way his shoulders slumped down, and his mouth turn downwards forming a frown.

“what more do i have to do to make you believe that i a sincere about this, about us?” he let out an exasperated sigh after pointing between the two of you.

“just be honest and love me,” and as you uttered those words, your eyes met his and you could see the way it reflected deep sorrow and perhaps guilt? you couldn’t name it.

with a dejected nod, he grabbed his wallet, bag and phone before rushing out of the house.

“i’ll be staying over at chan’s,” he muttered giving you one final look, as if telling you to stop him. but you didn’t, you just nodded and looked away.

he felt all his hopes shatter down upon that one thing, all the things he dreamt of for future could be seen crumbling down and all he could do was let out a shaky breath with his hand trembling all the while as he drove away.

౨₊ৎ seungmin

“where were you?” he practically shouted, startling you.

“i told you i was out with some friends,” you replied, trying to be the calm one.

“some friends? or a special friend?” his tone felt poisonous. it felt unfamiliar on his tongue to speak in this way but he tried not to look too fazed.

“what is that supposed to mean?” you replied pointedly, totally forgetting about remaining calm and stared at him.

“you know exactly what i mean,” his voice lowered down for a second and so did the anger in his gaze, but he held contact wanting you to know it was serious.

“i’ve called you like a million times and i was worried sick because you didn’t tell me where you went!”

“i can take care of myself, seungmin.”

“sure you can, but i don’t trust the other men,” he sighed and his eyes finally softened.

“good night,” he mumbled and walked away, leaving you standing all alone. things were getting better for worse? or for better?

౨₊ৎ jeongin

“stop shouting,’’ he said. It almost made you scoff when he was the one who started it.

“babe it wasn’t funny you know that?’’ you muttered, dejected but he just looked away not having any words to speak.

“i understand they are your friends but you can’t just go and tell them about my problems like that!’’ jeongin let out a deep sigh and looked at you.

“i thought maybe they could help in a way. they’re like my family.’’

“still. you could’ve at least asked me before telling them, you’re basically feeding off every bit of my secrets and i’m even scared to tell you anything now,’’ now that sounded ridiculous to him. you could trust him, and he wanted you to know that.

“you’re clearly overreacting. i just told them why you were feeling off,’’ he ran a hand through his hair growing frustrated that you both didn’t understand each other.

“you gave them the entire speech jeongin. don’t you dare lie to my face!’’ that was the high point. the two of you looked at each other with an abnormally furious gaze. and it made you realise just how long would it take for this to end?

“i’m not lying! Why don’t you understand me? i was just trying to make you feel better!’’

“if you wanted to make me feel better then you could’ve talked to me! and not them!’’

a minute of silence was all that was heard before you took your cue to speak, “am i dating you or am i dating them?’’ the tears came as quickly as they fell. you had grabbed your coat and bag, heading for the door. you didn't think anything else could hurt you. but you were wrong.

what hurt the most was that he didn't stop you.

[shiftingwithsky]

✶ my shifting success story ✶

✶ backstory ✶

Let me set the scene: it was fall semester 2021 and I was a sophomore in high school. School had just gone back in person from being online and I desperately needed to go back online.

I have always had a lot of sensory issues related to being in in-person classrooms. However, since I hadn’t had to deal with them for a whole year, they got worse. A lot worse.

On top of that, I was being harassed and threatened every single day by a group of guys from my English class, which caused me severe anxiety.

Since the school was still holding some online classes for students who had opted to stay virtual before the school year began, my parents and I emailed the school asking if I could be virtual for the next semester. They said no.

So then we began exploring the option of transferring to a fully online school. There had previously been two online schools in my state, however one of them had closed a couple years prior. The one that remained was my only shot so we applied. Unfortunately, I was put on a waiting list of like 50 people.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

✶ the shift ✶

On November 30th, 2021, while I was sleeping in my first period digital design class, I ended up in a dream version of the classroom I was sitting in and became lucid. That’s when I decided to shift. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and I felt myself being pulled / falling downward into a dark void. I kept repeating to myself “I am shifting to a reality where I get into online school.”

Suddenly, I opened my eyes in this CR. I knew I had shifted. It didn’t matter that my current school wasn’t going to let me go virtual the next semester. It didn’t matter I was put on a long waiting list for what I believed to be the only online school in my state. I was going to get into online school.

A day or two later I found out about a new online school in my state, which miraculously had no waiting list at all. I already knew that I had shifted but this really solidified it for me since this school had never even came up on any of my google searches in my OR. We applied to that school on December 15th and I got accepted on the 17th.

In January of 2022, after I had already started the new school, the other school reached out and told us that I had been accepted there too (which was a bit shocking since last I heard there was 29 people in front of me on the waiting list). I stayed at the new school though since I had already started and I liked it there.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

Moral of the story is I shifted here. Shifting does not have to be to this exciting, magical thing. It can be done for mundane reasons. People shift all the time without even realizing. Shifting, in this case, saved my life. I don’t know what would have become of me had I not shifted.

This was the one known time that I shifted. There was another time where I think I might have shifted but I’m not sure if I did or if it was just a dream. Let me know in the comments if you want to hear more about that.

If you have read this far, thank you. I hope you enjoyed and happy shifting! ⁎⁺˳✧༚

[listleven]

Inducing PC vs your power

You can manifest a wish book that grants every desire you write in it You can manifest a new face You can manifest a cookie

I don’t think you understand the weight of this title. There’s no logic if you assume it’s possible than it is. That means if you want to manifest an entire list of desires it has the same gravity than one singular affirmation. 16 desires = 1 desire. Because there is no logic it is just how it is. You are the one that puts resistance too it. You are the one that decides it’s harder because it’s multiple things. Have we forgotten this is your reality? You make the rules. If that’s what you think then that’s exactly how it will happen.

I was looking at the difference of stuff people manifest when inducing pure consciousness and regular manifesting and I noticed something that should be brought to light. You guys are a lot more care free with your manifestations in your void lists than in general. You can manifest literally anything you want. You want a wish book that grants your wish as soon as you write it down? A unicorn that shape shifts into a dog so no one will ever know? A door to another world like Coraline? An app that takes you to your desired reality? A friend who believes in LOA? You can have it. All of it. This is the type of stuff people will put in their void lists. Now I’m not sayin it as a bad thing. Do what you want. I just want to debunk why this is.

People find it more possible to get it when they are PC. When manifesting something like a safe word to take you into another world it’s easier to believe inducing PC will make it more possible than assuming. Because you would have to affirm the safe word whether the 3d conforms or not you have to not care or control your thoughts to that level. It kind of feels like gaslighting yourself when it’s not. You internally shifted when you said that safe word your external doesn’t matter. But then again what’s the point of the sw it was supposed to take you there physically as well as internally and I get it it’s hard to live in the end when their are situations like this in which you don’t know how to live in the end.

Let go. If you honestly had your desires would really be affirming 24/7 for it. Like actually. Don’t you have other things to do. I think you’ll find if you apply what I said above you will stop caring about your desires you might even resent them but that won’t stop them from being yours if they already inevitably are. Maybe you do need to affirm 24/7 to destroy subconscious beliefs that stop you from assuming with ease. I’ll make a separate post on how it’s easy to remove subconscious beliefs and how you guys overcomplicate it. But seriously you have what you want stop being so jittery imagination should be the goal reprogram your mind to think like that you don’t have to do so much you’ll end up doing it from lack. All you have to do is not go back on yourself. And leave it at that. Or make your own rules.

By putting all your trust in PC you've put it on a pedestal have with-holded power from yourself if you don't have to do anything to manifest as PC then you don't have to do anything to manifest without it.

The advice I give to people who struggle with comprehending any of the previous information is make your own rules. frustrated with all of what I said in the above right? make your own rules then. You are the one making this hard on yourself. Label it rules of manifesting.

Ex. of rules you can make

Doubting DOESN’T affect your manifestation being yours.

Wavering DOESN’T affect your desire being yours.

You manifest instantly.

Your notebook which you named ( insert name ) grants you every wish you write down no matter what not even your thoughts can change it because it becomes inevitable.

The more you dont believe in the rules the more real they are and the more instant your manifestations are

Despite any limiting beliefs my desire are inevitable

Literally anything you want.

Be delusional about it. Know your rules are how manifesting works. Know it’s how you manifest. DON’T GO BACK ON IT. Like who gives a fuck if your 3d didn’t show you your desire write it down in your magical notebook and there it’s inevitable. Assume those rules are true. And they will be despite any limiting beliefs. You can if you want apply a method to this going to sleep affirming these rules are true. Don’t let your past beliefs test you, if you decided it will work then it willl. Don’t make this hard on yourself assume reacting to the 3d DOESN’T make a difference. Now that you know this apply it. Get your dog in disguise unicorn.

I got a concerned follower the other day ask me about multiple people assuming otherwise cancelling out your own assumption. It doesn’t matter how many people are telling you otherwise if you assume that none of them matter then they don’t. They aren’t above you. Literally just assume it doesn’t matter you are the most powerful operant. The collective doesn’t overpower your own assumptions. In fact you assumed them to say otherwise in the first place whether you knew it or not. Change your assumptions. And watch them unfold. You have the power not them.

~ With love, Jyspire

[ponchigg]

How I manifest

My Manifesting Beliefs.

I’ll start by saying that I practice shifting-based manifestation. I believe that every time we manifest something, we are simply aligning ourselves with a reality where we have our desire, and because of that, I preach that the core of manifestation is connection: aligning your energy with a reality where you are fulfilled with your desire.

I use this routine every time I want to manifest something, and have been having pretty good results with it. I’m also planning to use it to manifest my full shift to my desired realities soon, once I regain my motivation. With that said, you can still use this if you don’t believe/practice shifting, as it still works within the LOA beliefs.

My Routine in Detail: How I Do It.

I start my day by taking a few deep breaths after I wake up. I lay on my bed and enjoy the after-sleep relaxed state for a few moments before I spend some minutes going over my daily affirmations. They usually consist of self-concept affirmations mixed with my desire-focused ones. So if I want to manifest, for example, money, I’ll repeat affirmations such as ‘I’m deserving and worthy of my desires’ (self-concept) together with ���I am a money magnet’ (desire-focused). I only do this for around 5 to 10 minutes, as I don’t feel the need to do more, not do I usually have the time to.

I follow with my day without thinking too much about my desire, as sometimes hyper-focusing on something can end up bringing a lacking mentality.

At the end of the day, after I finish all my chores, I prepare myself for meditation. I have an easy time getting into deep states of meditation, so I take advantage of it to directly communicate with my subconscious. I put on some binaural beats (I recommend the app atmosphere, it’s very good and has beats for pratically everything) and let my body fall asleep. After I reach a state akin to the void, I start connecting with my desire and vaunting about it (“It’s insane how easily I attract money and abundance, I’m so grateful for all the daily money I receive without having to move a muscle.”) Until I feel like it’s enough. My meditations usually last around 40-50 minutes, but depending on the day (and how exhausted I am) it can be less or more.

Before I go to sleep, I put on my overnight affirmations tape according to my desire (I make them using capcut and the text-to-speech function they have) and fall asleep without thinking too much about it.

My manifestations usually take around 2-3 days to physically manifest in the 3D, but I don’t stress about time too much, as I know they will arrive sooner or later - I simply just trust the process.

Not only does this routine quickly manifest my desires, but it also keeps me in a positive/relaxed state for majority of my day, which can be very helpful for those who struggle with overthinking. I wanted to share this to tell people that you do not need to make your day revolve around LOA, manifesting should never feel like a chore, simply do what works best for you and what you enjoy doing, be either affirming, vizualizing, meditating, etc..you got this!

[damn-stark]

Chapter 11 A dot Targ. A dot Vel.

Chapter 11 of Moonlight

A/N- Are you my daddy?

Warning- swearing, talks of death! ANGST, FLUFF, flashback, Daemon, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- 2x02

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW YEARS BACK. KING’S LANDING*

“Tell me, what is it you fear the most?” Aemond quietly asks against the night breeze that passes over the roofs.

The question is easy to answer, it’s a fear you’ve known since you knew what fears were.

“Well,” you respond unsurely only because even speaking of it frightens you. “I’m afraid to lose my family,” you pause and hear Aemond shift, you feel his puzzled gaze upon your answer, so you clarify yourself before he can be a smart ass. “I know that people die, it’s natural. And well it seems death is good friends with our family…I just mean that I don’t want to watch them die, you know? I do not want to end up alone.”

You let out a deep and shaky breath and turn your head to meet his gaze. He doesn’t carry judgment anymore, he instead looks like he understands your fear, which is a relief.

“What about you?” You press softly. “And do not mess with me and say you’re fearless.” You scoff and roll your eyes to look back at the stars glimmering overhead. “Father says everyone fears something,” you add to assure him that he can confide in you. “Up to the mightiest warrior, and down to the tiniest man, it makes us who we are. Even gods fear.”

Aemond draws out a breath and remains quiet for a moment while he brings his legs up to his chest, making you drift your eyes back to him, and noticing him looking at the sky. You don’t rush him, you wait, and watch his thoughts form behind his blue eyes.

“Well,” he breaks his silence hesitantly and quietly as if afraid to be heard. “Mhm…perhaps losing you…You’re my best friend.”

Your eyes widen out of disbelief and your heart…skips a beat in the same way it happens to women in love in the books. Albeit you actually end up laughing. “That’s a stupid fear,” you retort.

Aemond snaps his head to the side and glares at you. “I was being serious.” He snaps.

“Look, it’s sweet, truly, but,” you sigh. “I am a woman. If the gods are good I will have children, my mother says that many women die that way. That’s how my grandmother died,” you pause and swallow thickly. “It’s easy for women to die. That’s probably how you’ll lose me.”

It’s a cruel reality you don’t truly understand, but it’s one that’s been ingrained in you since you were old enough to know about babes and birth. Aemond though, doesn’t seem to understand as you do, he holds your gaze with a pointed look before he scoffs and counters. “Perhaps I won’t. And that does not mean I still can’t fear losing you.”

You offer him a flustered smile while a heat unfurls on your face and your heart once again skips a beat. “There must be something you fear. Something real,” you press him for more.

Aemond exhales deeply and hums as he looks back at the sky. This time it’s easier for him to find his answer in the stars. “I fear not bonding with a dragon. What will be of me then? You all have one, except me. Aegon already laughs at me because of it, and so do your brothers. They will laugh at me forever.”

You sit up and look at him seriously. “I told you already, you will get a dragon. Not everyone’s dragon hatches in their cradle, I mean…Prince Daemon bonded with his dragon when he was older. Yours is probably out there waiting, or perhaps it’s with someone else for now, but you will get one, I know it.” You assure him once again without getting exhausted of telling him the same reminder because you believe what you’re telling him, and you defend that by offering him a sweet grin.

Aemond watches your smile for a second and then looks into your eyes as if expecting you to jest just as Aegon does, but you never once let him believe anything else but what you’re offering him, and that assures him. You assure him in many ways no one else can, and he can’t help but offer you a gentle smile that’s just as gentle as him over that fact.

“Now I have something to tell you,” you shift to a more lighthearted subject. “I just came up with it just now. Since you are my family, I fear losing you too, right? Well,” you exhale softly. “Since you are my best friend, and my most trusted confidant, if you were to die first…I will die with you.”

Aemond sits up and shoots you a glare before gently pushing you. “Do not jest about that!”

You laugh softly and shake your head. “I am being serious! Because I mean if you were to die first and I died after you, we could fly in the heavens for all eternity. We would be together.”

Aemond lets out a breathless laugh and then smiles softly at the ceiling you sit on before meeting your gaze with a serious look. “If that were to happen,” he begins to say. “If I die first…I want you to live on. I do not want you to die for me.”

You lose your smile and sigh deeply.

“You have to live a happy life,” he continues. “Swear to me. Swear that you will not be that stupid.”

You hesitate, but you don’t want to make him upset, and you know he’s taking his words out of the depths of his heart, so you offer him a soft smile and reassure him. “Fine, I swear, but I am selfish, so if you want to die for me, you can.” You shoot him a grin. “You do not have to make me such promises.”

Aemond rolls his eyes and mutters. “Yeah, yeah.”

You hold his gaze for a moment longer before you grow restless and push yourself to your feet. “Okay, one more thing.” You shoot him a mischievous smirk, and he has no trouble knowing you’re up to no good. “You might wonder why I’m wearing a cloak on such a warm night…”

“I wasn’t,” Aemond interjects as he stands to his feet now too.

You begin to walk back with your hands clasped together, and your smirk deepens. “You might also be wondering why we are sitting on these roofs when we usually sit on the ones on the other side. Well…” you trail off and pull your hands away from each other to unhook the pouches you have hidden under your cloak. “Wine bags!”

Aemond has been following your steps but stops when he sees the bags in your hands. “What are you doing?” He queries.

You rush over to him and give him one sack before you turn on your heels and run to the edge of the roof, causing a panic to set in him. “Hey, get back from there. You’ll fall!”

You ignore him and sit on your knees to lean over the edge with the bag dangling out. “Come quick,” you whisper excitedly.

You look down and catch your target just as you planned. Aemond hesitates at first but he can’t help his curiosity and ends up right by your side.

“At this time of night,” you explain quietly. “Some servants take their leave to rotate with the others. Aegon likes to creep on them from his window...” you trail off with a snicker, and without warning you untie the bag in your hands and then let it fall.

The moment the bag crashes on Aegon’s big fat head, the wine explodes out of the bag and soaks him completely, catching him off guard, and making you chuckle quietly.

“What the hell?!” Aegon exclaims.

“Haha,” you celebrate.

Just before he can look up you snatch the other wine bag from Aemond and let it fall on Aegon another time.

“Hey! Who was that?! Get the fuck down here and face me!” Aegon yells out as he wipes the wine off his eyes.

Your snicker turns to a malicious laugh, but just before he can see it was you, you quickly get up and grab Aemond’s arm to yank him back with you.

“Come on, come on!” You urge him between giggles and pull him inside with you. Never once do you think of letting him go to run at your own peril, you don’t stop to catch your breath, you run and laugh together until you finally reach a hall Aegon won’t enter, and burst out laughing even harder.

“What was that for?” Aemond asks between laughs. “We could get in serious trouble.”

You stop laughing, but grin. “If we get caught. Which we will not, and you said that he was being mean to you today so I got him back.” You reveal and nudge his arm. “Do not say you feel bad. It was just wine.”

Aemond scoffs and begins to smile. “I do not, it was funny.” He says with a crooked smile before he starts laughing quietly at first and then laughs harder. You join him again and you both continue to laugh together not caring if you could get caught.

——

*NOW. DRAGONSTONE*

The short moment you spent with the Hull boys was quite amusing, especially more so when Addam heard Astraea’s chitter from the skies before she descended and dove in the water to catch a large fish from the sea. He looked so flabbergasted and awestruck that it made it hard for you not to get mixed in his excitement.

He was a stranger, but he had this way about him. Maybe it was his charming grin because he flashed his pearly white teeth or his sense of humor? Maybe it was the fact that he so easily seemed to get comfortable, making the atmosphere flow with ease instead of getting uncomfortable. That is until your grandfather took you away with him.

Addam was like a fresh breath of air in the same way your brothers are, so maybe that's the ultimate factor, that's why he so easily found a way into your battered heart; because he kind of reminds you of your brothers.

Alas, a dark cloud soon cast in your mind and took your heart by storm. Those happy ba-dams sounded frail once again as you were struck with thoughts of Aemond and memories of your past, and then like a flash of lightning you also got hit with images of him killing Lucerys. You tried to stop it, you wanted to think of something else, but a person can’t stop a storm.

How could a man who loves you bring you so much pain? You always defended him against Aegon when you were young, you were his friend when he said your brothers and his brother hated him. You're the person he loves, and you're the person who loved him, so why did he have to kill your brother? Why did he push you to hate him too?

Does he even truly love you? Or was it all a lie?

Maybe you should take pride in having sex with Cregan, you ached for comfort and he gave it to you, he showed you he loved you even after you married another man, even after you left, so maybe you shouldn’t feel an ounce of shame for it now. He would never kill your beloved brothers the way Aemond did.

But…

Does Aerion deserve such a selfish mother? Does he deserve feuding parents? A life without one or the other?

A life of parents who hate each other?

Does he deserve a mother who has a gaping hole within her that bleeds at the mere thought of his father?

You can’t help it, you’ve been trying to close your wound, fill it with pure interchangeable hate, but there’s emptiness you feel now amongst the hate.

However, are you such a needy woman that you’re not capable of being alone, or the star in someone’s eye? Why do you crave it so? Why is your mind so tormented?

You want to scream it all out, shout it all into the wind until your voice is hoarse and your tears dry, but you have Aerion strapped to your chest and you’re home now. Furthermore, you can see Jacaerys waiting by the entrance.

Is he going to be your new shadow now?

“Jacaerys,” you greet your brother once you’re strutting down the runway.

Said man eases his hand off his pommel and stands up straight with his lips pursed and a certain darkness in his eyes that’s not related to grief.

“I have been waiting for you, you arrived just in time, a meeting has just been convened in the great hall,” he shares, making your curiosity slowly overpower your torment.

“What is it?” You ask as you slow down and start to unstrap Aerion from your chest.

Jacaerys glances at Aerion’s wet nurse approaching you and then glances down, telling you without a need for words that he's going to wait and just press a dull ache in your chest as you start to worry.

“Aerion slept the entire time we were at Driftmark,” you let the wet nurse know as she takes Aerion and the straps you used to keep him attached to you. “He’ll be hungry soon.”

The wet nurse nods in comprehension and quickly turns around to head to the child’s apartments, letting you fall by your brother's side to follow him to the great hall in silence for a few minutes until there isn't anyone nearby.

“It’s news from King’s Landing,” Jacaerys finally fills your curiosity, but only makes your heart hurt as it starts to pound against your chest.

Is it Aemond?

“Someone…sent an assassin to kill Aemond…” he trails off and glances over at you to see your reaction; and even if you want to hold it in, even if you want to only express nonchalance over the desire of Aemond’s death, your eyes batting furiously and your breath hitching gives away your shock.

You knew that your mother was going to want Aemond’s death, and if not her, Daemon now had a reason to personally hit the first blow. Yet hearing this desire still finds a way to wound you. Even if you hold hate for him, you still find yourself distressed and…scared.

“Did…” your voice shakes, so you clear your throat and draw in a deep breath to stop your tears before they can fill your eyes. “…It happen?”

Jacaerys keeps his gaze on you for a lingering moment, but you avoid looking at his face out of fear you’ll see disappointment.

“No,” Jacaerys shares, letting you feel a sense of relief that you can’t fight off. “He’s escaped his fate, but they got another…”

Aegon!

“Aegon's son, Jaehaerys.”

You immediately come to a halt, and Jacaerys takes a few more steps forward before he stops too, and turns to face you with a hardened face that can’t actually hide his disbelief.

“Helaena’s boy?” You can barely whisper out because of the shock, the disgust, and the pure horror that you’re hit with.

“But,” you mumble and feel tears cloud your eyes while horror and disgust churn in your stomach. “He’s just a boy,” your voice quivers. “He’s just four.”

Jacaerys nods and can’t muster anything to say in return. What is there to say about the murder of an innocent child?

You can’t even form thoughts, you’re so stricken with disbelief and horror that you can’t even feel any part of yourself, you’re numb. And it’s all so quiet too, so horrifyingly quiet.

You don’t remember where you are or that your heart is beating until Helaena comes to mind first; her heartbreak, and her own horror. She’s already such a fragile soul. You can’t imagine what she must be going through. And that poor boy?

Gods…who would be capable of doing something so sinister, who could give the order?

Your mother would never, and no one from her council would ever do it either, so who could order the death of someone so innocent? He has no fault in this war or in the death of Lucerys.

Why could someone…gods…

You can’t—you have to gag. Yet you don’t puke, you hold it down and all you do is worry your brother.

“Are you okay?” He asks with concern.

You take in a few deep breaths and nod stiffly. “Yes,” you mutter and nod again. “The news is just disturbing.”

You turn to face him and Jacaerys seems more concerned. “Are you sure?” He double-checks and studies you.

“Yes,” you reassure him as you grab your stomach. “Just processing the news…I just can’t believe someone would do that.”

“I know,” he whispers. “Maybe…you should ask Mother for a dragon egg in hopes one can hatch in Aerion’s cradle?” He suggests, causing you you start thinking about something that hadn’t even crossed your mind—“A hatchling is small but fierce, they can protect a child in ways a guard can’t.”

“You don’t think…” you can’t even finish your sentence out of fear that someone will try to get revenge on Lucerys by killing Aerion because they can’t reach Aemond.

“No, but just to make sure,” Jacadrys says and grabs your arm to caress it with his thumb. “They killed Helaena’s son, I just want to make sure. I’ll have more guards posted outside the children’s apartments just in case.”

A smile flickers on your lips because of how deeply he’s worried, yet your paranoia doesn’t let you feel anything but fear.

“Okay,” you express softly like a little girl shaken with fear. “Do you think they’ll let me send a letter to Helaena? We might be on opposite sides, but she’s innocent, her kids are too, and I do really care about her.”

Jacaerys lets your arm go and sighs deeply before he shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be a good idea. Just keep her in your thoughts,” he throws out with little care. “Now come on before we miss more.”

He goes on to lead the way and you follow him in silence as you just think about Helaena, and now this new fear Jacaerys set in you.

Maybe…it would be smart to send Aerion to Winterfell…just him. No one would harm there, Cregan would make sure of it.

“Could I ask…” Jacaerys slowly rolls out, breaking the silence. “About how it started between you and—”

“Shut up,” you hiss at your brother without needing to hear him finish.

It’s like he climbed in your thoughts!

“I’m curious,” he snaps back.

You glare at him and leave it unanswered considering you’re in a castle corridor that servants and knights use. Instead, you swiftly change the subject to what you have planned.

“I want to help our grandmother patrol the Gullet, and eventually when Aegon's fleet comes I want to help grandfather fight too.”

Jacaerys hums. “Really? That sounds good. Smart too, Rhaenys patrols a lot of open water alone…I actually thought of surveilling King’s Landing with Vermax as well,” he shares his own plan.

“That’s smart!” You praise him right back. “You and Baela could do it.”

Jacaerys shoots you a side eye and you just smirk faintly before you add on to your comment. “I am being serious. It sounds like a good plan. We just have to share it with our mother.”

Jacaerys lets out a deep sigh and then interjects with another plan. “Some days we could patrol the Gullet together too. Give Rhaenys time to rest and deal with matters here.”

You meet his gaze with a smile and don't even think it over, you accept right away because he’s so protective that you would think he’d want to do things like patrol alone to keep you out of danger—Then again after losing Lucerys, keeping each other close guarantees your safety, that way no one can rip either of you away from each other in the same way they took Lucerys.

Neither of you want to even think of losing each other now that it’s just you and him. It’ll be like living in the dark if you lose each other.

“That sounds fun—or like a good plan. I would like that,” you praise Jacaerys’ plan and then gently his back, making him scoff but not protest or move out of the way.

“Actually I got these chainmail face masks customized so when I’m dragonback I get to wear them as protection for my face,” you bring up with some excitement because you can finally talk about the armor you got made; like the chainmail coif, the chainmail masks, and the body armor for battle as well.

“We wouldn’t want more face scars,” Jacaerys points at the scar on your face and sucks air in between his teeth, making you scoff and swat his hand away.

“Funny,” you grumble, making him chuckle.

However, your moment then comes to a cold stop when you near the great hall and hear the murmurs of the meeting. You don’t even need to be close to feel the tension, but when you do get close it immediately takes you hostage, making you walk in slowly and stiffly, with horror making a reappearance on your face.

“…there will be swift retribution in one form or another—”

“I have seen to it, Your Grace,” you hear a lord cut your mother off quite disrespectfully whilst you silently make your way to a seat across from her.

“Let me fly out on Vermax,” Jacaerys quickly interjects his plan since a convenient silence permits him. “While my sister helps Rhaenys in the Gullet,” he shares your part of the plan too as he walks up behind your chair to help you push it in. “I can watch for movements from King’s Landing.”

You sit up straight to show your confidence in your plan, however, the moment your mother looks between you and your brother she immediately shoots the plan down with a hint of an emotion you can’t read. “No.”

You sink back into your seat and share a frustrated sigh with Jacaerys.

“It must be said that the damage to our position is immeasurable, at a time when we most need loyalty to our cause,” the previous lord continues to share a big concern.

“B-but it’s a lie,” your mother defends the accusations you don’t need to hear personally, you know they were thrown at her to weaken her claim. The Greens are smart to use the people, you do have to give them that.

“Having lost my own son,” your mother continues. “That I would inflict such a thing on Helaena of all people,” she presses in disbelief. “An innocent.”

You draw out a deep shaky breath and glance down at your hands on your lap as her grief comes across your mind louder than before.

“The death of Prince Lucerys was a shock and an insult,” Lord Broome interjects after a second of more tense silence. “A mother so aggrieved might, naturally, seek relief in retribution,” he dares to speak out loud, making you quickly sit up and lean forward to glare daggers at the man, whilst your own mother pushes herself out of her chair to confront him.

“Are you suggesting, Ser Alfred, that my grief drove me to order the decapitation of a child?!”

He has some nerve throwing accusations like that to his Queen, and Daemon is surprisingly unbothered by such vile accusations thrown at his wife after he decapitated Ser Vaemond not long ago for insulting your mother.

“I merely thought, perhaps, an action taken in haste,” Lord Broome continues to speak out loud making your lips curl to a sneer, while your glare only turns sharper.

“Mind yourself,” the hand warns the bold lord in such a calm yet threatening manner that he actually goes silent, letting your mother return to her seat.

However, as chilling as your grandmother's threat was, you’re still surprised Daemon hasn’t spoken in her defense…

He’s been too quiet since Jacaerys and you joined the meeting actually. Too uncharastically quiet…did he…

You blink and look over at him for the first time since you got here and right away you catch this smug-looking smirk playing on his face. One a bit small, but still visible and telling.

How could you have not come to that conclusion before? He’s a cruel man, vile in many ways, why didn’t it occur to you that he was capable of ordering the murder of a child if Aemond couldn’t be found?!

The act is clearly oozing Daemon’s name. Only he could kill a child and be smug about it. He’s so disgusting, and cruel, and does nothing to ease your hate for him.

You have wanted to stop carrying so much hate for him, he loves your mother after all. Your brothers never have anything bad things to say about him, and in the few times he’s been in the same room with Aerion, he’s been…kind to him; and you don’t think that lightly! It really costs you to think of him in such a kind light, but it’s true.

Now though, he only adds fuel to your hate and adds disgust where there wasn’t any. Furthermore, in the midst of your brewing disgust and heightening hate, the man you were thinking about and glaring at meets your gaze across the table, and that smugness doesn’t fade, you only seem to feed into his cockiness as he realizes that you know it was him.

He doesn’t linger in your speechless interaction, but you continue to glare at him as if you were trying to kill him with your looks alone before you slowly rise from your seat and pull everyone’s attention as you address the table of men, the Queen, and her Hand.

“Your Grace, I would like to request double the guards protecting Aerion, I would not want the same killer aiming to kill my son next since he is Aemond’s only son,” you sneer and snap your gaze at Daemon to continue piercing your glare at him so he knows you’re referring to him.

Your mother nods gently. “Of course,” she doesn’t hesitate to give you what you want this time. “But rest assured no one will touch him,” she offers you comfort while her own gaze points at Daemon.

You rip your eyes away from the despicable man and offer her a much gentler look accompanied by a thankful smile. “Thank you, My Queen.”

She offers you a nod and then draws out a deep breath before she clasps her hands on the table and interjects. “You are all dismissed, we will reconvene later.”

You find her dismissal a blessing even if you just arrived, and hastily stride away from the hall thinking of nothing but what Daemon did to poor Helaena. Much to your surprise though your brother trails after you and follows you into the kitchens since it is alone at the moment.

“Tea?” you offer him what you’re about to make for yourself.

Jacaerys shifts his feet before he snickers and rudely offends you. “You know how to make your own tea?”

You grab the kettle and turn around slowly. “Of course,” you deadpan. “I know how to cook some of my own food too.”

Jacaerys looks away to hide his teasing grin before he walks over to you and watches you prepare what you need. “What did Lord Stark teach you?” He asks.

You stay quiet, and with little regard for your fingers, you light the match and end up watching the fire eat away at the match as if the flames have your answer.

When the fire touches your fingers Jacaerys calls your name, making you snap from your stupor and throw the match under the kettle to give life to a small fire.

“He would make fun of me because I could not do the simplest things for myself,” you muse. “He said I was spoiled, which was big of him considering things were brought to him too, but…” you trail off with a smile and finally nod in agreement to his answer. “Yes, he taught me the basics. I would watch him too on the hunting trips he would invite me to, Lady Karstark was nice to me so she let me go.”

Jacaerys hums and crosses his arms over his chest, you glance over at him and see him paying attention to your fingers that were touched by the fire while also holding obvious frustration over the situation he chose to talk about.

“He…did not trick me,” you finally answer the question he had asked earlier whilst you fiddle with your fingers to hide the fact that you were unharmed since you still don’t know why the fire doesn’t hurt you the way it should. The Red priestess gave you a reason, but you still have a hard time comprehending it so it’s better not to give it any attention at the moment.

“We were friends. Best friends. We talked about the fathers we both lost, he taught me to plant my feet in the ground and not have my head in the clouds,” you speak fondly of Cregan. “I live in the moment because of him…we were friends…that’s how it started.”

Jacaerys clenches his jaw and watches the fire under the kettle before he mutters. “Is it over?”

You swallow thickly, and to avoid making him more upset you don’t talk about the fact that you continue to write to each other. “Of course,” you answer quietly.

“I would have preferred him to be my good-brother,” he surprises you by saying.

“Jacaerys,” you scold him and gently hit his arm, making that serious line on his face pull to a cheeky smile.

“I can say it now…you don’t love Aemond anymore do you?”

Your smile quickly falls at his daring question, and your once-softened eyes grow dark with conflict. Something that should be easy to answer isn’t actually so easy to say out loud, no matter how much you tell yourself that you hate Aemond.

“I…have a son with Aemond, Jacaerys,” you avoid giving him an answer. Albeit nothing will save you from his disappointment, so you also avoid looking at him out of fear that you’ll see hate in your brother's eyes.

“It’s…complicated…I hate him for taking Lucerys, but—”

“I really can’t blame you for your unresolved feelings,” Jacaerys cuts you off with hints of sorrow showing through his frustration. “It would be easier to hate me…I…encouraged mother to let us deliver the messages. I sent Lucerys to his death…I,” his voice breaks so he cuts himself off.

You forget what you’re waiting to boil, and drop all your inner conflict to turn and face him with determination and sincerity. “No,” you say sharply and grab his arm to turn him to face you. “No, don't say that, it is not true! What happened is not your fault, Jacaerys.”

Your brother's eyes water before he meets your gaze with the look of a sad and guilty little boy.

“It’s not your fault, Jace,” you insist softly but also sharply. “We were sent as messengers. We made that promise, all of us. Aemond…was dishonorable and basically stabbed Lucerys in the back. Aemond killed Lucerys,” your voice quivers. “Not you. And Luke would never want you to blame yourself for that. Do you understand? It’s not your fault.”

Jacaerys nods softly and lets a few tears escape his eyes now that no one is around to see him cry. You, however, gently cup his cheeks and wipe them away before you wrap him in an embrace. “It’s not your fault,” you add one more time for reassurance.

Jacaerys isn’t as good at expressing himself with words like you are, but you know he is grateful with the way he holds onto you and rests his head on your shoulder.

When you pull apart he offers you one of his one-of-a-kind smiles that have a way to ease your mind. You then mirror his gesture and speak thousands of I love you’s to each other without uttering a single word.

It’s not until you hear your tea boiling that the moment is broken.

“So? Tea?” You ask again as you grab your cup to pour yourself some.

Jacaerys scoffs and grabs his own cup before he finally responds. “All right, I will try it, but if I die let everyone know it was your poor tea skills.”

“Oh haha,” you feign a laugh and then pour him some tea.

“Oh did you hear about the prisoner that they found in one of the ships?” Jacaerys trails on as he waits for the tea to cool. “Supposedly it was that one person you told us about, the White Worm.”

You bring your cup to your lips but then slowly pull the cup down to show your confusion. “She’s…here?” You probe.

Jacaerys nods. “I’m sure she’s the one who told you know who, what to do, considering what you said she does,” he says and finally brings his cup to his lips to take a sip. All while you stare at your dark tea and get lost in the thought as to how this great influence ended up here. As a prisoner.

“I am surprised,” Jacaerys says lightheartedly and with a hint of snarkiness in his tone. “This is not bad. I’m sorry, but you won’t be heir today, sister.”

You blink and roll your eyes to him before you kick his shin with an unamused glare. He hisses at the sting but laughs regardless. From then on you try to forget about the White Worm being in the same castle as you. Jacaerys ends up leaving you, and you try to think of practicing with a sword or with your bow and arrow, but your question as to why she’s here overpowers you and drives you toward her instead.

It wouldn’t be a mistake, you worked together when you were in King's Landing. You weren’t friends you knew not to trust her, but this dynamic has you on top, you are a Princess and she is…well…the White Worm, a whisperer, schemer, and a survivor.

Maybe you could even propose to work together again now that she’s here. You are the Queen's daughter after all, and she’ll listen to you if the White Worm plays her cards right.

Nevertheless, before you can even get close to the corridor where the White Worm is being kept, you grow tense at the sight of Daemon storming by without that smugness from before. Now, in the short glance, you stole as you passed by like strangers, you notice a hardened face and a grimace where his smirk once played.

You could relish in his unhappiness, but before you can even find amusement or pride, just as you thought the vile stranger was paces away, a hand harshly grips your arm before you’re whipped around harshly and with ease.

“You,” he sneers. “I need to talk to you.”

You look at him with a fear you can’t hide fast enough and shock.

He hardly talks to just you alone, and when he tries he’s violent about it?

“Let me go,” you mutter shakily and push him away from you.

Daemon glances to the right and then to the left before he takes a step forward and narrows his gaze on you. “You will return to King’s Landing at once and infiltrate the Greens.” He instantly spats.

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and without thinking you shake your head softly, but Daemon doesn’t care because he keeps running his mouth.

“Play the dutiful wife, or whatever it is you need to do to get on your cunt of a husband’s good graces. I have had one of the men who fought with me at the Step Stones infiltrate the Castle Guards to protect you, his name is Ser Jason Waters, pick him to be your sworn protector, do not trust any other knights.”

He already had this planned? Does your mother know? Is she okay with this?

“No,” you mutter in disbelief and with a hint of heartbreak at the thought that he—they want you gone. “I am not going. My mother would not agree.”

Daemon shakes his head and quickly rebuttals you with his patience hanging by a thread. He’s trying to be patient for your sake, but he doesn’t want to be argued with at the moment.

“This is for the sake of the Queen. Your mother. Your family—our family!” He makes sure to say louder so it can reach your heart. “Do you not want this war to be over sooner?” He leans towards your inner desires. “You are married to one of them, making you the perfect mole. You will get on your knees, plead for mercy, and press the fact that you were wrong in choosing your mother…he wouldn’t let them kill you.”

Did he just try to be reassuring over something he doesn’t know?

He doesn’t know Aemond like you do. If Aemond believes you betrayed him he will not forgive you no matter if you love him, or have a son together. He’s petty and angry when someone crosses him. If he doesn’t believe your pleading cry he will not be kind. Daemon doesn’t know that, Daemon doesn’t know the Greens like you do.

You will not do it, he will not make you return to the side of a Kinslayer and a Usurper. You don’t want to leave again, you’re happy here with your family. This is all you’ve ever wanted and he will not rip you away from your family in the same way Alicent ripped you away from them the first time for an act you did not commit! Not again!

“No,” you argue with anger you wish you would’ve shown Alicent six years ago; and with new anger directed at Daemon for trying to put you in harm's way. “I will not go! You cannot make me go to them! They killed Lucerys and Visenya! They took my mother's throne! They will lock me away or kill me! They will take Aerion away! You cannot make me go!” You spat out. “I will not go! You cannot take me away from my family again! You are not my King! And you are not my father! I. Will not. Go!”

Daemon lets out a deep sigh, and turns his head away to stand in silence for a moment before in the blink of an eye turns back around and slaps his hands around your arms to yank you to him with a harsh strength that startles you deeply and makes all your anger fall as you fill with fear and disbelief.

No one has ever grabbed you in such a way or looked at you with so much anger.

“You are not my daughter. You are right. I am not your father. I will never be your father,” his words have a way of wounding you even deeper, but you don’t know why exactly, you know he’s not your father, and he could never replace your father…but maybe…just maybe you held a flicker of hope that you would feel an ounce of that sort of connection again after it was so suddenly ripped away from you. And he was the only one who could have given it to you, but now that flicker is gone and you’re in the cold with no hopeful light at the end of the tunnel.

“But I am the Prince Consort,” he sneers and tightens his hold to the point your flesh and deep buried muscle begins to hurt, letting you know you’ll bruise. “I am your Prince Consort, you will do as I say and leave with your son after telling the Queen, so the wrong people don’t know and give you away. Do you understand or do you want me to drop you over there myself?”

Tears crawl down your cheeks as your bottom lip trembles. And it’s impossible to notice especially because Daemon stands so close, but he still does nothing to console your fear, he just lets you go and drops his head for a second before he looks at you again and points.

“You will go. Spy on their plans and send reports back to the Queen or me, do you understand? You might just be our path towards the Throne, so do it and never let your guard down.”

“I hate you,” you don’t hold back from saying before you finally find the will to break away and shove past him to continue down your path.

“Do it!” He bellows over his shoulder while you keep storming away with tears in your eyes, and your breath labored as you fight your sob.

You almost have half the mind to go run and cry to your mother, but what’s the point if deep down Daemon does sound reasonable. As petty as Aemond could be, he doesn’t know what you did on your last day in the North, that is the probably only reason he would completely turn his back on you and view you as an enemy. Leaving and supporting your mother is probably something you can talk over, you’ll sing a song and he will probably be enchanted by your words. And once he falls prey he’ll take to your defense in front of his brother and the council.

But do you really want to return to the side of a man who killed your brother? You’ll look at him and that’s all you’ll see, a murder. A Kinslayer.

Then again…

But no! He killed Lucerys. Your little brother. How can you play a dutiful wife to such a man? Maybe you should accept Cregan’s proposal and find refuge in Winterfell with Aerion. You’ll avoid fighting this war and having your heart broken even more because you suspect more heartbreak still has to follow.

It would be a dream.

But nevertheless, as to what you will do, you’ll talk to your mother about Daemon's plan, and she’ll be your deciding factor…later, once you’ve calmed down, and maybe after you have taken a small nap; it feels like you’ve been on your feet for days on end. Most importantly though, after talking to the White Worm, you’re already close to Mysaria’s cell, so what would be the point of turning back now? You'd just add to your fatigue.

When you reach her cozy cell, however, you hesitate to make your presence known. Conversing with someone after the way Daemon treated you is beginning to sound exhausting.

Albeit you are also curious so you rap your knuckles on the door even if the guard said he’d just let you in since she is considered a prisoner, but where’s the decency in that?! Thus you wait and when you hear her welcome you in you make yourself known, much to her surprise.

“Princess,” she greets you in surprise.

You offer her a small and strained smile and redirect her greeting. “Mysaria. I can’t say I’m not surprised. I never would have thought we would cross paths here.”

Mysaria watches you from the other side of her small chambers, and you finally study her; noticing how different she looks from the elegant woman you would see in King’s Landing. Her falling braid, her dirty white dress, and dirt covered face really makes her less intimidating. She’s completely ordinary now.

“Well, the Hightowers chased me out of my home after they burnt it to ash. I can’t even say that the foundations stand in place,” she reveals, making your gaze flicker away as your mind fills with different thoughts of concern.

“And…all those people that lived with you?” You ask softly.

“Ran I would hope, I taught them better…does it matter in truth?”

You snap your eyes up and look at her as if she had physically wounded you. “Of course,” you defend yourself. “I am not heartless.”

Mysaria lets her gaze linger on you for a moment before she nods. “No. You are not. Could I ask though, now that I am down here and you remain up there”

You squint in confusion at her words, but then quickly quirk a brow to encourage her to keep going.

“Why did you care so much about the smallfolk?” she queries and sits on a wobbly wooden chair. “It’s disappointing to say that not many of your current kin have shown any care. If it’s not for their personal gain of course.”

You hold her gaze for a moment before you walk over and sit on the edge of her hard bed. You then glance down at the gems on your many rings and sigh deeply as you shrug. “A part of me envied the smallfolk when I was younger,” you share and right away feel her shocked stare upon your words.

“They could live their life as they wanted, if they had money they could go get lost at the ends of the world, where the sea meets the edge of the world and touches hundreds of tomorrows. They could never return and no one would care…I envied their freedom. Now…I have grown,” you speak sweetly and look over at her. “Now I want them to like me…it’s vain, I know, but in Winterfell, the Lord and Lady Stark would treat their people with kindness, as if they were their own kin, and they got kindness and respect in return…I want that.”

“You are no heir,” she speaks harsh words with her heavy accent, revealing that she’s not from Westeros. “You will not be Queen. It is not your duty.”

“I know,” you barely form in a whisper. “I was a sick babe. The maesters did not know if I would live so they encouraged my mother to seek an heir in another. She had Jacaerys and those around her saw the advantage of having a male heir and did not let her change it once I lived past my death date…but,” you breathe out and turn to face her completely. “I am still a princess. No matter what, eyes will always be on me, I want those watching me to like me, in the same way those in the North look at their Lord.”

Mysaria hums and nods gently, letting you get up and slowly make your way to her. “I could grant you your freedom,” you speak. “I only need to speak to my mother. She will listen to me only if…you help me in the same way you helped me back then.”

Mysaria’s gaze lingers on your eyes and doesn’t jump at the proposal like you thought she would. She watches you instead, as if she’s just trying to aid you with something, but not willing to spit out the answer to let you figure it out alone.

You can’t however, so she lets out a deep breath and shares what she had been hinting at. “With us both here there is no way in which you can help me. There's nothing I want here, not from you.”

You help her…

As guarded as she is, she’s open when she needs to be. Like now. Without a need for deeper explanation you realize that after all this time of believing she was under your thumb, you were actually another string for her to pull on.

You were so blinded by the thought of power that you did not read her like Cregan told you to read people.

How could you be so foolish?

“Okay,” you say with a sense of hurt. “Well…then I can still help you leave. I can talk to my mother.”

“What of Daemon?” She asks and surprises you.

“What of him?” You quickly follow up.

“He said he would give me my freedom.”

You mindlessly rub the throbbing offended area on one arm and shrug. “I do not talk to Daemon. I can talk to my mother, take it, or leave it and stay here.”

After all, she did let you know secrets from within the Red Keep you otherwise would’ve gone unaware of.

“I will take it,” she doesn’t hesitate giving in, making you feign a smile and find a reason to cut this reunion shorter than you had expected after being left with much to think about.

——

*LATER*

Dear, Cregan,

This letter is not going to start the way I would have wanted, but alas there is something urgent I must press. By the time you get this letter, I am sure you would have heard what happened at King’s Landing with Queen Helaena’s son, news like that travels fast, especially when they want the whole of the realm to know. But I digress, no matter how many people whisper in your ear, or what letters you get from the Green Council, it was not Queen Rhaenyra who sent that assassin.

My mother did not kill the boy. She would never do something so cruel. I believe that, and I hope you do not sway. Your support, whether small, is still important, and your loyalty even more so.

I know who it was but without real proof, I would just be crying wolf, so I will keep my mouth shut and hope you come to the conclusion yourself considering how many times I have ranted about him. Instead, I will express my regret for not having the time to ask how you are, or what you have been doing. I have so much to say and so little paper, so I will save my formalities for next time.

As of now, I do have to tell you that I left my ring at Castle Black, the one with the sapphire. If you somehow have it or get it in your possession, toss it, or sell it, I do not care.

Now I was hoping you could aid me with something. Do you still dream of your father, Cregan? I have found myself dreaming of mine as of late, and more or so in always the same setting; I find him as I am now, not as a child, but me, I find him washed up ashore. When I reach him he's concerningly thinner and looks ill. I try to save him, but I never can. We only speak a few words before the angry waves take him back to the sea. And no matter how much I try, I can never reach him and all I’m left with is an ache.

Anyway, Jacaerys—

A knock rapping on the door interrupts you from the thoughts you’re writing on paper, and before you can welcome the visitor in you hide the half-written letter first and then proclaim. “Come in.”

The door gets opened by a Ser Erryk, letting your mother walk in without that usual tense and serious decorum she wears when she’s with her council. She actually offers you a tender smile that mirrors the gleam in her eyes as she watches you.

“You wanted to speak with me?” She asks as she makes her way to you.

You walk her to the cushioned seats across the balcony doors where you like to read and watch the dragons fly in the distance.

“Yes, I went looking for you earlier but I was told you were busy,” you let her know, making her nod softly. “Is everything all right?”

She lets out a deep sigh and offers you a very stiff shrug before she shares what’s on her mind. “I went to speak with the prisoner, Mysaria. The one who snuck here on a ship.”

Oh well, what a coincidence you were meaning to talk to her about that exact person.

“She aided…in the tragedy committed against Helaena’s son after her freedom was promised, now the one who promised it to her is gone, and I am left not knowing what to do with her. Let her leave to aid in my destruction, or keep her here to aid us.”

You nod along in comprehension and find the right time to do as you said. “The White Worm is not to be trusted, but after what she said the Hightowers did, I know she will not return to their side willingly.”

Your mother's eyes narrow and she leans forward to probe. “You spoke with her?”

You avert your gaze and nod softly. “Yes, but I was merely curious as to how she got here. The last time I had heard of her she was the ever so great White Worm of King’s Landing.”

Your mother doesn’t detect that you’re hiding anything that should make her worry so she sits back and presses. “That is right I remember you spoke of her when we got to King’s Landing. She helps you.”

You express a dry laugh and shake your head softly. “No,” you mutter with defeat. “I helped her. Unknowingly, but that doesn’t make her less undeserving of what she was promised,” you finally speak for her case. “You will probably gain more from her if you grant her her freedom rather than keeping her here.” You say and look at your mother sweetly and with the faintest smile to nudge her towards what you’re hinting at.

Her gaze lingers and without giving an answer she nods softly and speaks thoughtfully. “I see.”

“But if you want to save yourself the trouble then you could just…kill her,” you suggest seriously but also a bit lighthearted. Albeit she doesn’t seem to get the latter with the concerned gaze she shoots you, so hiding the fact that you were serious you backtrack. “Let her go. I think that would be the right thing to do.”

She responds with silence this time that lingers for a moment before her gaze then wanders behind her where you had been when she walked in.

“I hope you were not busy, my Sweet.” She interjects after a while.

You shake your head and immediately use one of your usual covers for when you’re writing to Cregan. “No, I was just reading some of our Valyrian histories. There’s a lot more books from Old Valyria here than in the Red Keep.”

“Are you still searching for answers on this fire immunity?” She asks with slight amusement, making you scoff but nod.

“I’m just curious.”

“Why?” She immediately presses and rises from her seat to quickly maneuver over to sit next to you instead. “Is there something you know?” She asks.

This would be the perfect chance to trust someone with this gift you are bestowed with and relieve yourself of this secret you bear. You could—you should show her that you are unscathed by the usual dangerous flames that provide warmth, and threaten someone with death or wounds, but you know so little. You are confused by it, and by the words that Red Priestess told you in regards to it, which in turn makes you want to understand more of what you might be for yourself first before you tell someone else.

Besides, what if she looks at you differently if she saw what you were gifted with? You can’t have her look at you like you’re some demon from the deep depths of all seven hells. You don’t want to be unloved by the mother you deeply adore.

“Just curious is all,” you say and omit most of the truth. And as to not have her linger in what you have yet to understand you drift the subject to what happened earlier with Daemon. Not because he told you to speak to her, but because there was really no chance you wouldn’t come spilling out what he did.

“Mother,” your voice shifts to sound quieter and express that fear that still rattles you. “Daemon talked to me earlier.”

Your mother's gaze snaps away from the serene scene outside your windows, and her lips fall as her eyes flicker between curiosity and concern.

“He proposed—no, he more so demanded me to go to King’s Landing to infiltrate the Greens,” you share and see her head shake faintly without the need to hear more, or without time to think of how useful that can actually be.

“I may have argued against Daemon’s demand when he initially proposed it but,” you continue and sigh shakily. “It may not be a terrible idea. Aemond still demands mine and Aerion’s return, I can most likely get in his good graces and have my freedom to move about the castle and hear what may help you. I want to help you.”

Your mother nods gently in comprehension and watches your hand resting next to hers for a moment before she meets your gaze with a soft endearing look that makes you feel right at ease and deeply loved.

“I know, I understand. I really do,” she speaks with fondness hanging off every word, and so kindly that her soft smile and her twinkling gaze let you believe what she says and helps you understand what you would have otherwise argued.

“…More than you and your brother know, but as much as I want you both to really show me the warriors aching to be free, I must think as a mother first. You are my legacy. You and your brothers, you are what will carry out our blood, I can not put that in danger, I cannot put you in danger if I can still help it. Do you understand?”

“I do,” you say, but still find it in yourself to argue for the woman before you, your Queen, and your mother. You want to do right by her more than anything and prove that you are strong, that you can be what she needs in a dragon warrior with salt-littered blood.

“But if there's a chance to gain an advantage in this war shouldn’t we take it?” You argue desperately as you shift your body to face her completely. “I can be your advantage Mother. I could help you get closer to your throne.”

Your mother holds your gaze and watches your desperation play out in your eyes for a moment before she lifts her warm hand to cradle your cheek ever so gently. “You will help me here in time,” she argues back without a shift in that tender affection in her voice. “You cannot go, I will not be there to protect you. I need you here. You are my strength, my Sweet. My firstborn, my first love.”

Your breath hitches and your smile trembles.

“I need you with me,” she presses and you can’t find it in yourself to counter. You ease into agreement perhaps just exactly how she wanted, but you do. That need to do what Daemon asked of you begins to fade away like ash scattering in the wind.

“Besides, Daemon is not your King,” she clarifies, making you grin. “He cannot tell you what to do without telling me about it first, okay?”

You nod and can’t help yourself, you lean over and wrap her in an embrace she doesn’t hesitate to return.

“I will make you proud,” you proclaim just loud enough so she can hear. “I swear. I will be everything you need and so much more,” you hint at your gift that the Red Priestess called fire-made flesh without directly revealing yourself just yet. You will in time when you understand what you’re really made of. As for now, you’ll be what she wants you to be. You’ll stalk your prey from a distance and prepare for the attack. You’ll be the dragon hiding in the eerie shadows until fire kills the girl.

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

You can’t really say you’re disappointed whatsoever by your mother's reluctance because the truth is, this is all you have ever wanted, to be amongst your family whether it be here in Dragonstone, in King's Landing, or wherever you may find yourselves to be.

It may sound childish like you need to grow up because you are a grown woman with a child and a husband of your own, but your family is your joy. And for a while, you were content with your little family, your heart did not yearn to be amongst your mother and brothers, you missed them dearly but you were content. However, Aemond made sure to break that peace apart when he killed Lucerys.

But now you’re here, in Dragonstone, where the majestic songs from the dragons harmonize with the sound of strong crashing waves, and accompany the gentle whips of air that unfurl through your windows, bringing forth a soothing sound that ails Aerion to his nightly slumber, and brings the pleasing smell of sea salt that tangles with the smell of the calm fires that illuminate the dark castle halls and keep every room warm.

You're here in your ancestral home, where every piece of your grand history is etched on the stone walls, or stitched in tapestries proudly hung from room to room. You’re here surrounded by a sea that calls out your name and holds fond memories of you and your father. How could you want to leave it all behind and trade it for a city that smells like shit, and is polluted by usurpers, traitors, and killers?

This is where you belong, here, where you can smile, and admire your beloved brother Jacaerys and brave Baela sitting under the mystical moonlight together, admiring how the dragon scales glimmer like bright stars as the dragons dance about the clear and starry sky; each person itching to share an intimacy that goes beyond longing stares and feathered touches, but not daring to cross that line just yet.

This is where you belong where you can bid your sweet mother a goodnight without having to look at the sky and say it to the wind in hopes she would somehow catch your voice. You can request and seek her comfort here without having to rely on old letters or haunting embraces.

Here, where Driftmark and your grandparents are all a short flight away is where you belong. You belong here where you share intimate dinners and laugh together over stupid jokes, or dramatic and far-fetched stories that never fail to pique your attention. This is home, where you can watch your little brothers grow in the same way you watch your son grow. You are home, and deep past all your adventurous desires you could not ask for more.

“After we put Aerion to bed I will have you fed,” you tell your grey cat following you at your side ever so gracefully, and he actually meows back before trotting forward and leading the way to the children’s quarters.

Before you can catch up you fall behind first as you spot Ser Erryk, from the corner of your eyes, hiding in the shadows.

“Good Night, Erryk,” you tell the man with his helmet on, which is an odd thing to have inside, but maybe he came from outside or something. Whatever.

“Uh,” he breathes out before you hear him respond as he walks out of the shadows. “Goodnight, princess.”

You offer him a gentle smile and catch his gaze fall on your sleeping son in your arms and linger on him for a moment before his gaze flickers back to you and seems to have many running thoughts behind his eyes. You can’t help but grow a tad bit uneasy in this shared silence, so you just offer him one last smile before you turn away and push forward, catching your cat come out of the children’s room.

He meows impatiently and you roll your eyes and sigh. “Yeah, yeah.”

When you enter the room, however, you come to a sudden halt when you see Rhaena reading by the fire.

You could try and escape but she notices you right away therefore forbidding you from making a quick escape.

“Rhaena,” you greet faintly and hide how shaky your breath gets by walking to Aerion’s crib.

“Cousin,” she greets and rises from her seat.

You avoid the exchange of awkward smiles by keeping your back to her even after you put Aerion down.

However, that gesture makes her blurt. “You have been avoiding me.”

Your breath hitches and you mentally curse in defeat.

“Ever since you returned from Winterfell,” she continues to add to your guilt. “Why? I have always thought that you and I have been closer than that. We were far closer than you and Baela are, yet I see you speak with her all the time.”

You swallow thickly and let your gaze stay focused on a random spot in Aerion’s cradle before you slowly turn with your gaze downcasted, speaking your shame without the need of saying it with words.

“This is the only place I knew I could stop you before you ran so please did I do something wrong?” She throws out and just punctures your already wounded heart.

“No,” you whisper and finally step away from your son's cradle to approach Rhaena cautiously. “Of course not,” you make sure to get that point across.

“Then?” She queries with a hint of sadness in her confusion.

“It’s just,” you mutter and walk past her to get near the fireplace and watch the enchanting flames dance. “You were…betrothed to Lucerys, and I know I may not know the feelings you shared, but he was still your betrothed. You still loved him in a way, and…Aemond,” your breath hitches, and you hear her heels click against the stone louder and louder as she gets closer—“My husband took Lucerys. He took him from you, and I can’t face you knowing that because I see your heartbreak, and when I see your heartbreak my own heart hurts with guilt. I’m sorry, Rhaena. I’m sorry for what happened.”

Rhaena falls by your side and steals your gaze brimmed with tears.

“But it was not your fault,” she says what everyone else has said. “You are not Aemond. You were not even there when it happened. You could have not stopped it either.”

You drop your head and quickly wipe away the tears that roll down your face.

“I do not blame you,” she assures you sweetly as she reaches over to take your hand in hers. “No one blames you, so please do not torment yourself. You are not your husband, and you are not responsible for his doings.”

You slowly lift your gaze and lock eyes with her kind yet saddened ones.

“You mean that?” You make sure to ask first, but without hesitation, Rhaena nods and gives you a lovely smile.

“Truly,” she sounds more confident now.

You let out a sigh of relief and mumble, “Good. I'm glad.”

“Can we go back to the way we were now?” She asks and you can’t help but flash her a faint grin before you nod eagerly.

“Good,” she says breathily as if unsure whilst she steps back, letting your hand fall back to your side—“I wanted to ask you something.”

You give your back to the fire, and snake your hands behind you to seek the fire's warm embrace on your flesh.

“All right…ask, just know you’re making me quite nervous though.” You giggle nervously at the anticipation.

A small amused but nervous smile flashes on her features before she shares what she’s holding in. “I was hoping you could help me train with a sword or archery.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and look at her completely shocked considering you should be the last person she should ask. She has her father, and even if you don’t like him you have to admit he is a great swordsman.

“You all have your dragons, and I do not but I still want to help in some way. Be more useful,” she adds to her case. “And I saw you training with Jacaerys, so I was hoping you would show me.”

You bring your hands forward and fiddle with your ruby ring as you make your way to a seat across from her. “What about your father?” You hesitate bringing up.

Rhaena just meets your gaze and shakes her head with a slightly hardened look.

“I want it to be you,” she finds the right thing to say to sway you to the decision she wants to hear.

Yet before you can offer her your help, someone rushes in the room, interrupting your conversation, and stealing your attention toward the door where you see one of your mother's ladies-in-waiting, Elinda, heaving and with panic painted on her features.

“Princess,” she calls out with distress, forcing you to your feet. “Theres been an incident in your mother's apartments”

Your heart falls and without needing to hear the rest, and without any caution to your safety you rush to your mother's quarters. And actually, you don’t even know how exactly you got there with your pounding heart drumming in your ears, and a deep heart-aching fear clouding your gaze.

It’s not until you make it past the door of your mother's room, and see her standing across the room that you’re pulled out of your trance.

“Mother,” you announce your presence and see her attention stuck on a man on the floor by her feet. You follow her line of gaze and finally find out what happened, or you start to imagine the gist of it when you see the Kingsguard twins, Ser Erryk, and Ser Arryk both lifeless and bleeding out on the floor. Which begs the question, who was it you saw earlier? Ser Erryk? Or Ser Arryk?

Did you see Ser Arryk on his way to assassinate your mother?

It had to be him, he had his helmet on and seemed puzzled when you bid him a goodnight.

How could you—he almost killed your mother. The Greens almost killed your mother…

“Mother,” you say shakily but not because you want to cry, you’re caught in disbelief as to what happened. And finally your mother's eyes part from the body, and she finds you, letting you see the red cuts on her cheeks and the horror and shock in her teary eyes as you stride over to her in a hurry.

Nonetheless, when you get close to the dead men, without knowing who’s who you look between them both and still can’t believe they sent someone to come kill your mother. Not because you find it unbelievable, you actually don’t put it past the Greens to do something like this, after all, Daemon did kill their heir. You just feel the tragic but simple disbelief that someone almost killed your mother.

Someone almost took your mother away after killing your brother too. All while you were doing…nothing…

“Are you all right?” You ask your mother while you make sure all you see are small cuts and not serious wounds.

“Yes,” her voice quivers.

You grab a hold of her arms, and she holds your elbows while you study her one last time before you wrap her in a tight embrace to comfort her shaking body, feeling yourself slowly grow sad and terrified over a certain thought that latches in your mind with no intent to budge or die.

Jacaerys comes rushing in shortly after and after his shock he grows angry that Ser Arryk somehow got in, making your mother go and calm him down even if she’s distressed. All while you quietly look at the bodies on the ground and know what you need to do.

You don’t want to, you hate what you decided, and you hate obeying Daemon even more, but you can’t stay here when there’s a chance of doing so much more out there with the enemy.

Everything may not go the way you want it to go. You may get locked up and separated from your son, but if you can save someone you love from death then shouldn’t you try to be their faithful servant?

You have to try. You will try.

You’re going back to King’s Landing and infiltrating the enemy. You’ll return to Aemond’s side and be his wife.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- RIP MC you would have loved yacht parties and movies/series with love triangles

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @callsignwidow @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader

[luna-azzurra]

Do you have any tips for writing a character who hates their appearance? Like say this character has the ability to look like a normal human but their non-human form is quote on quote "ugly/hideous" (The creature's related to the character have the same issue/The self-hatred is taught by the elders and/or parents from the society the creature belongs to.)

"Conceal it, don't feel it, don't let it show" kind of thing. And the parents/elders aren't mean about it, they just know their real appearance isn't appealing.

Human appearance = Confidence, more self-acceptance, more self-love, etc.

Your character could feel stuck between these two identities, on one side, they’ve got their non-human form that’s been labeled as “ugly” or “hideous,” and on the other side, they have their human form, which is praised and makes them feel confident, even if it’s not their real self. It’s like a mask they wear to feel better about themselves, but deep down, there’s still this lingering feeling of “I’m not good enough as I am.”

You can show how this affects their self-esteem and mental state. Every time they look human, they feel a little bit stronger, a little more accepted, but it’s not really them. Maybe they start to rely on the human form so much that they feel lost without it, like they don’t know how to be themselves anymore. That confidence they get when they look human? It’s a bit fake, like wearing an outfit that makes you feel good for a while, but you know once you take it off, all the insecurities come rushing back.

They want to accept their real form, but every time they look at themselves, all they can hear are the voices from their parents and society telling them they’re not good enough, that they need to hide this part of themselves. You can show moments where they’re afraid to let anyone see their true form, even people they care about. They fear rejection, judgment, or that people will think they’re as hideous as they’ve been told their whole life. But, over time, maybe they start to question these ideas. Maybe someone in their life (a friend, a love interest, or even themselves) shows them that their real form isn’t as bad as they’ve been taught to believe. You could even explore little moments where they realize they don’t hate certain parts of their non-human self as much as they thought they did. It’s a slow, difficult process of learning to accept themselves, and it won’t be a quick fix. They might still struggle with the urge to hide behind their human form, but eventually, they start to see that their real self isn’t something they need to conceal or be ashamed of.

Example / The Mirror Scene

The bathroom mirror was fogged up from the hot water, but they could still see the outline of their face. Human face. The one that made them feel like they belonged. A quick wipe of the glass revealed familiar features: smooth skin, symmetrical eyes, a nose that didn’t make anyone flinch. A face they didn’t have to hide.

For a second, they almost smiled. Almost. This face was easier, so much easier, than the real one. The one they kept buried beneath layers of “normal.” With a shaky breath, they glanced at the door, locked, thankfully. No one could see them here. It was safe. It was just them and the mirror. But safety wasn’t comfort, not when the thing they feared most was their own reflection.

The familiar sensation of their skin shifting began, like a wave of pins and needles. Slowly, painfully, the human features faded, replaced by the reality underneath. Their jawline thickened, rough, uneven skin stretching across sharp ridges. The soft eyes they’d once admired in the mirror were now wide and strange, glowing faintly in the dim light.

They hated it. They hated that every time they looked like this, all they could hear was their mom’s voice, calm but full of pity. “You’ll feel better if you just stay in human form. It’s easier.”

Easier. Sure. Except it wasn’t them.

They leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting their real face. “Hideous,” they whispered, like they could get ahead of the insult before someone else could throw it at them. The word hung in the air, suffocating, familiar. They’d heard it a thousand times, from elders, parents, even their friends when they didn’t think anyone was listening.

[perfectsunlight]

[12] IVORY

warnings: teen pregnancy, absent father, disconnected mother, difficult pregnancy, health related issues, mentions of adoption, mentions of complications at birth

2013

“you’re pregnant?”

jieun’s voice wavered between shock and incredulity as she paced back and forth across the room. her hands ran through her hair, a gesture of disbelief and frustration. jennie sat on the couch, her fists clenched tightly on the edge of the cushion, her head bowed in shame.

“yes, mom,” jennie whispered, her voice barely audible. she could feel the weight of her mother’s disappointment and confusion bearing down on her. the reality of her situation was sinking in, and she couldn’t escape the overwhelming sense of fear and uncertainty.

her mother stopped pacing and turned to face her daughter, her eyes wide with a mixture of emotions. “how could this happen?” she hissed, tears welling in her eyes. “you’re only 17, jennie. what about your training?”

jennie’s eyes filled with tears as she struggled to find the right words. the pressure of the moment, combined with the reality of her situation, was almost too much to bear.

“i know, mom,” jennie said quietly, her voice trembling. “i wasn’t planning for this. it just… happened. and now i’m trying to figure out how to handle it.”

jieun’s face twisted with a mix of frustration and sadness. she had always supported her daughter in everything, and now it felt as if this pregnancy would stop everything her daughter had worked hard for. her life would be forever changed now, especially given her position as a trainee.

“it’s that boy, isn’t it?” her mother whispered, earning a slow nod from jennie. jieun’s expression darkened further. “does he know?” she added, which only deepened the pit in her daughter’s stomach. 

“yes, mom.”

the older woman crossed her arms over her chest slowly as she stared at the ceiling in disbelief. she truly couldn't believe this was happening. “and what did he say?” jieun quickly asked, trying to collect her thoughts in a logical manner.

“he doesn’t want anything to do with me or the baby.”

jieun’s expression shifted from frustration to devastation. she quickly sat in the armchair opposite jennie, her eyes filling with tears. “how could you not tell me sooner?” she asked, her voice cracking. “and why won’t he take responsibility?”

the younger kim’s shoulders slumped. “he said it’s not his problem. i didn’t want to burden you with this, but i couldn’t hide it any longer.” the room fell silent, the weight of the situation hanging heavy between them. jieun’s mind raced, trying to reconcile her daughter’s situation with her own expectations for jennie’s future. 

she had envisioned her daughter becoming a successful star, not facing this kind of personal upheaval.

“i just don’t understand,” jieun said softly, wiping away her own tears. “you’ve worked so hard, and now this? how could you two be so reckless?”

cat-like eyes were filled with pain. jennie knew it was her fault as well as his, but there was nothing she could do now to change that past. “i know, mom. i’m scared. but i don’t know what to do.”

jieun rubbed her temples gently, trying to remove the stress somehow. “does the company know?” she whispered slowly, trying to figure out the full situation. jennie shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears. “only teddy knows. he’s been helping me as much as he can.”

jieun’s face fell further, her concern deepening. “but how are you managing? how are you going to handle this without the support of the company? and how can teddy keep this secret?”

“i don’t know,” jennie huffed, leaning her head back into the cushions. “it’s already been hard. i’m exhausted all the time, and the stress is a lot. teddy’s been trying to help as much as he can, but he’s also busy. but he won’t let anyone else find out.”

the older kim sighed deeply, her frustration mingling with sympathy. as a mother, she wanted to take her daughter’s problems away. however, she knew that the young girl needed to take responsibility. 

“jennie, you need to think about yourself and the baby. you can’t keep going like this. maybe being an idol isn’t your path—”

jennie slammed her fist against the coffee table, interrupting her mother as tears quickly ran down her face. “no. i’m not giving up. i can make it work. and maybe i’ll just put the kid up for adoption once it’s born.” she was determined to live out her dream, no matter what that meant.

her mother flinched at her outburst, her eyes widening with shock. the intensity of her daughter’s emotions was palpable, and she felt a pang of sadness for the turmoil jennie was going through. 

but the thought of jennie considering adoption was a heavy blow, both to jieun and to jennie herself.

jieun took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “i understand that you’re overwhelmed. but this isn’t a decision you can make just because you’re exhausted and scared. it’s a big step, and you need to think about it with a clear mind.”

the younger girl looked away, her gaze distant and filled with a mix of sorrow and resignation. she knew she wasn’t thinking straight at the moment, but she had already been thinking about the adoption route since she found out she was with child.

“i don’t have time to think about it, mom. i can barely keep up with my training, let alone prepare for a baby.”

jieun’s heart ached at the sight of her daughter’s despair. she reached out, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “you don’t have to go through this alone. we’ll find a way to make it work, but you need to take care of yourself and the baby. if adoption is the path you choose, it should be a well-thought-out decision, not one made out of desperation.”

—

jennie made it very clear she wanted no prenatal help during her pregnancy. teddy had only taken her once, and that was to find out how far along she actually was. she had used a fake name for the appointment, having teddy act as her “father” during the visits to keep her true identity a secret.

the first and only prenatal visit was an emotional ordeal. 

they had told her she was around 5 months along, which sent the young girl into a mental breakdown. the doctor called it a cryptic pregnancy, a term used when a pregnancy is not immediately or easily detected. jennie had always been small, and the subtlety of her baby bump had allowed her to keep the pregnancy hidden for much longer than expected.

but she thought she’d have more time to think about what to do with the baby. she thought she’d be able to go along with her pregnancy and take her sweet time in reaching a decision. now, it just felt like her world was quickly closing in on her.

as jennie struggled with the weight of her decision, her pregnancy also took a toll on her health. being a trainee meant relentless hours of practice and performances, leaving her little time for rest or proper nutrition. the physical strain of her schedule was compounded by the emotional stress she was under.

her body, already exhausted and fragile, quickly began to show signs of the strain. jennie’s once vibrant energy diminished, replaced by a constant fatigue that seeped into every aspect of her life. she struggled with nausea and dizziness, her appetite fluctuating between ravenous hunger and aversion to food. the demanding schedule of training and monthly performances left her with little time for adequate rest, and her attempts to keep up with the grueling pace were increasingly difficult.

some noticed the change in her, but she brushed off their concerns with vague explanations or evasive responses. she couldn’t afford to draw attention to her situation, not when every day felt like a balancing act between hiding her condition and meeting the expectations of her future career.

lisa, rosie, and jisoo all just assumed jennie was working harder than before due to the massive cuts from their latest performance evaluations and the constant pressure of maintaining high standards. the trio offered their support and encouragement, believing that jennie’s increased workload was the cause of her exhaustion. they would occasionally suggest taking a break or getting some rest, but jennie always waved off their concerns with a tired smile and a quick excuse about being focused on their upcoming schedules.

despite their best intentions, jennie was unable to fully confide in her bandmates. 

she feared that revealing her pregnancy would not only jeopardize her position in the company but also expose her to public scrutiny that she wasn’t ready to handle. the secrecy was both a shield and a burden, protecting her from unwanted attention but also isolating her from those who cared about her.

her days were a blur of rehearsals, performances, and if she was lucky, quick meals. her nights were often filled with sleepless hours, worrying about her health and the future. every morning she would look in the mirror, noting how her reflection showed the toll of her situation.

truth be told, she wanted nothing to do with the baby at this point. she was sick and tired of being sick and tired. on top of that, why would she have to be a mother when her baby’s father wasn’t going to be a parent either?

it was a cruel way of thinking, but she wanted to be an idol more than anything else. she could be a mother some other time, when she was ready and when she was already done being an idol. this was why she quickly decided on putting her daughter up for adoption once she was born.

the idea of giving up the baby was a difficult decision, but it felt like the only viable option amidst the chaos of her life. the reality of being a single mother at such a young age, combined with the demands of her career, made the prospect of raising the child seem almost impossible.

her plan was to keep her pregnancy secret for as long as she could and then find a suitable adoption agency that could offer the baby a good home. jennie had already begun making inquiries, trying to figure out how to navigate the process without drawing attention to herself.

however, that all went out the window when she went into labor 7 weeks early.

it started with sharp, persistent contractions that jennie tried to ignore at first, attributing them to the stress of her demanding schedule. but the pain grew too intense, and she found herself unable to continue with her routine. 

panic set in as she realized something was seriously wrong.

jennie’s attempts to keep her condition hidden proved futile. she was rushed to a private room in the hospital, her mother accompanying her discreetly. her heart raced with anxiety, knowing that she couldn’t afford any major complications, both for her career and the baby’s wellbeing. 

the doctors worked quickly, assessing her condition and preparing for an early delivery.

in the sterile environment of the hospital, jennie felt an overwhelming, crushing sense of fear. the doctors and nurses bustled around her, their serious faces adding to her anxiety. she was given a brief explanation of what to expect, but her mind was consumed with worry.

she knew given the current state of her health, there probably wasn’t going to be a good outcome.

her daughter was born at 4:44 am on february 14th, 2014. she was incredibly small, barely weighing over a pound. the sight of her fragile, tiny form, connected to various monitors and tubes, made jennie’s heart ache with an overwhelming mix of emotions. the baby’s cries, though weak, were a stark reminder of the new life she had brought into the world. 

the doctors worked tirelessly to stabilize the newborn, placing her in the nicu where she would need to stay for several weeks.

for the first two weeks, jennie didn’t even have a name for her daughter. in her mind, she couldn’t name her, because then she’d become attached, and she still was considering giving the baby up.

jennie could only watch through the glass, her heart breaking at the sight of her daughter’s tiny frame fighting for survival. she had visited the hospital every day once she was released after a few days, having teddy cover for her previous absence with the excuse that she had to travel to new zealand for a funeral. however, jennie’s initial plan to put the baby up for adoption was pushed to the back of her mind as she spent hours by the newborn’s side. 

the nicu became a place where she found herself re-evaluating everything. the initial detachment she had tried to maintain dissolved as she held her daughter’s tiny hand and watched her fight through each day.

finally, after days of emotional rollercoasters, jennie decided to name her.

she finally felt as if this small being was actually part of her, regardless of the obvious biological facts. it was why she decided to give her daughter part of her name. the meaning of the name jane meant “god is gracious,” and there would be no other way to describe her daughter.

jennie knew she had survived one hell of a pregnancy, but she also realized that jane had survived it, too. her daughter was a miracle, a testament to strength and resilience that mirrored her own journey.

jane had stayed in the hospital for about 4 and a half weeks. jieun had agreed to take care of her granddaughter so jennie could focus on her job as a trainee, while also allowing jennie the opportunity to still be a mother.

an hour before the baby’s discharge from the hospital, the new mother found herself cradling the newborn with a mixture of anticipation and bittersweet emotions swirling within her. jennie watched as her daughter lay peacefully in her arms, her tiny hands and feet moving every so often.

today was a milestone—the day jane would finally go home. 

as jennie leaned closer to the child, she observed jane’s calm demeanor, her wide, cat-like eyes focusing intently on two things: the soft, gentle images of elephants playing on the television mounted on the wall, and jennie herself. there was something profoundly touching about the way jane’s gaze would shift between the screen and her mother, as if finding solace in both.

jennie couldn’t help but smile at the sight. the elephants, with their ivory-like grace, seemed to captivate her daughter in a way that was both soothing and endearing. 

it was as if the baby recognized something special in them—a serenity that mirrored her own journey. 

and the way jane looked at jennie, with a trust and affection that spoke of their deep bond, was more than jennie could have hoped for.

“ready to go?” jieun asked as she zipped up the baby bag and stood up straight. jennie turned her body to face her mother, but because the action moved jane’s gaze away from the elephants, it caused the newborn to begin to whine softly. 

jennie’s heart clenched at the soft sound. the way jane’s tiny face scrunched up in distress was a poignant reminder of how deeply connected they were. she gently repositioned jane so the baby could once again see the calming elephants on tv, soothing her with the familiar imagery. the baby’s whine quickly subsided, replaced by a calm focus on the screen.

jieun watched with a knowing smile, recognizing the new maternal behavior from jennie. she was glad her granddaughter wasn’t going anywhere. “everything okay?” she asked, sensing jennie’s hesitation.

jennie nodded, her eyes reflecting a mix of determination and tenderness. she took a deep breath and turned to her mother, who had been quietly observing from a nearby seat. “mom?” jennie began, her voice steady but urgent, “could you please ask the nurse to come here? i need to make an important change to jane’s birth certificate.”

jieun looked puzzled but supportive. “you’re changing her name?” she glanced over at the newborn who was still focusing entirely on the elephants that showed on screen. “i’m just adding to it. i’m giving her a middle name.” jennie answered, her own gaze shifting back to her daughter.

it wasn’t usual for koreans to have middle names, but jennie felt that this addition was important. 

“oh?” the older woman smiled softly as she pressed the button on the side wall to call for the nurses. she turned to face jennie once again, a smile on her lips. “what are you going to add?”

the new mother paused for a moment, thinking carefully about her decision. however, it didn’t need too much thought. it felt right, it felt complete. and most importantly, it felt truly unique. 

“ivory."

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST ⸺ ✶ @silantryoo @imahallucination11 @jisooftme @yerimbrit @linnnsworld @edeivveiss @urmom2314 @aespasoooool @mygfiswonyoung @yeetaberry127 @@sixflame438 @yourmyst4r @shegoswhoree @saysirhc @hwm1hyun @literallybipanic @yejiscene @gayforalll @yvsvrn @bunnywonyo @karifrogs @thefckghost @yoontoonwhs @pandafuriosa60 @somedaydream @hotluvlet @pagedpick7 @lizseos @cy8erpunkz @keiji-jin @lizseos @xszn @awkwardtoafault @hellokiraa @chicopichu @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite @lesbian4themis @literallybipanic @tjdc25 @st4r4ngel @jihyos-hoe @jxmis

CLOSED.

[rqgnarok]

Hello! I loved your Jamie Tartt angst and would love more angst that leaves you hurt but resolves itself (I’m too mushy for things ending at angst) maybe self sabotage? I feel like season two Jamie would be good at that since he does want to be better but doesn’t fully believe in himself. Or Jamie is still into Keeley and reader likes Jamie and is icing out Jamie to protect their self? Literally anything there is a Jamie angst deficit 😩 mwah <3

hi anon! sorry it took me so long, school and then writer's block kicked my ass. full disclosure, i didn't read this after i wrote it so sorry for any mistakes! enjoy <3

“Thought you left.”

You close your eyes in despair, thankful at least that Jamie can’t see you. You’d been sure your escape had been a subtle one but here he was– the very person you were trying to avoid following you to the balcony on the less crowded side of the restaurant.

You didn’t think he’d notice. He hadn’t yet– looked at you or talked to you since he came into the team event with Keeley wrapped around his arm, looking gorgeous and worthy of his attention. She had smiled at you, genuinely happy to see you, which made this whole thing entirely more ridiculous. 

You’d thought this was a date. After replaying the interaction between you and Jamie for the umpteenth time, you’ve come to the conclusion that your own excitement blinded you to the reality of it all. When Jamie had asked, all nonchalant without making eye contact, if the PR team would be at the annual team dinner in a non working capacity, you’d let yourself imagine something you couldn’t have only to be left a fool. 

Well. Here you are now, paying the price.  

“Just needed a second,” you try to sound like there’s a smile gracing your lips despite how close you are to tears, but won’t look back to meet Jamie’s eye. He settles at your side soon enough, hands in the pockets of his suit while yours remain gripping the railing, hoping for a full breath that just won’t reach your lungs. “There’s a lot of people in there.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” he says, hitting the nail on the head regarding your anxiety in crowded places. There’s a reason you work behind the camera, making other people look good while getting to stay away from the limelight. “It’s just the team, right? You’re okay with us.”

You can’t help but agree, even if it sounds a little miserable. “Yeah.”

Jamie doesn’t follow up and you find yourselves enveloped by the silence and the sounds of the street life underneath you. Cars passing by, people chatting and talking, the whistle of the air as it threads through your clothes and bites at your skin. 

“Are you cold?” he asks when you shiver, shifting to take off his jacket and wrap it around your shoulders. You really wish he wouldn’t, stopping him before he can.

“I’m fine,” your voice betrays you and breaks, and you don’t have to look at Jamie to know he’s looking at you now, urgently searching for a sign of discomfort. “I’ll go back in a minute, yeah? I’m right behind you.”

“I don’t mind,” he says, surer than anything else he’s said so far. There’s a steel to his voice now that he’s realized you’re not fine at all, willing to protect you even from yourself. “I like keeping you company.”

“Jamie–” 

“Are you alright?” you have to, you have to look at him, and there’s a furrow to his brow that frames his face so, so nicely. Eyes wide and concerned, one of his hands leaves his pocket to reach for you. He says, softer. “You’re crying.”

“Am not,” you say peluntantly, because you’re not. Not yet at least. You’re cold and tired in your fancy attire and fancier shoes, but you’re not crying. You won’t until you’re in the safety of your apartment, away from the people who care about you. “I’m okay, Jamie, please go back inside.”

“Love,” he says knowingly, tilting his head. His searching hand, after a moment too long of hesitation, touches your cheek. He’s frowning still. You wish he didn’t look so handsome doing so. “We’ve barely talked tonight. I was hoping…”

He drifts off when a loud laugh from inside catches him off guard, quickly retreating back to himself and digging his hand back into his pocket, taking a step back from you. 

It’s such a terrible sequence of events in such a short amount of time that it makes you laugh, a sharp sound that surprises Jamie as much as it seems to hurt him. “I–” he begins, then cuts himself off. 

It dawns on you that this might not be the first time Jamie has been rendered speechless, but it is the first time you’ve seen him scared. 

“It’s fine,” you say. And it’s not. It’s not, but– “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You turn back into the night and wait one, two, five arduous seconds in which Jamie doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself before you hear his steps begin to retreat. Breathing out, you think the worst is over until he speaks, “you look beautiful tonight.”

He stutters. “Always, y’know, but tonight. You do. You do.”

“Can we… can I see you? Before you go?” he wonders.He calls your name when you don’t take the bait, frustration coating his tone. “Come on, I’m tryin’ here, sweetheart. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” you say, soft, so soft you’re sure he doesn’t hear it. “Nothing, Jamie.”

“Okay,” he says. Then– “I’ve been tryin’ to ask you out for over a month and you won’t let me.”

You want to be angry, but the statement only makes you sad. “Go back to your date.”

Jamie splutters in disbelief. “What?”

“Keeley’s probably wondering where you are,” it sounds accusing even to your own ears, and you hate it. You never intended to get him into trouble or bother him with your feelings for him. “Go back to your date, Jay.”

“That’s not– she’s not–” he blabbers. “Love, please–”

Isaac and Dani, drunk out of their minds, crash into the balcony to wrap their arms around Jamie, too out of it to notice your distress or that you’re even there. They call his name to the melody of Baby Shark, loud and basked in laughter. 

“Ayo, lover boy!” Isaac barks, wiggling his brows suggestively. “Your girl’s lookin’ all over for you! I think she’s ready to go home if you know what I mean.”

“Fuck off,” Jamie snaps, thoroughly upset but barely heard above Dani’s teasing ohhhhh. “Can’t you see I–”

You abruptly turn, barely sparing them a look as you excuse yourself meekly, voice wet and hushed. Jamie tries and fails to hold onto you, calling your name. You only feel the brush of his fingertips on your bare elbow as you escape his grip and leave him behind.

[striveattemptfail]

Minor Differences | Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson, 1.9k, PG-13

@poolvertober: Day 20 – Pop Culture

Summary: Five times Logan learns something new about the timeline he's in (and one time it was for the better). Inspired by this post by @nichknack. Rated for language. Takes place some time after the movie's events; just assume Logan and Wade are back-up X-Men. More gen than slash but we all know the truth ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Read on Ao3

A/N: Once again, I'm taking today's prompt fast and loose so forgive me in advance 😅🙏 Un-beta'd but quite frankly it's a miracle I even finished on time lmao. Can you believe this was originally supposed to be ~600 words? (ノ_<、)

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

The first time Logan notices that his new timeline isn’t identical to his old one, it’s over a subtle name change.

He’s reading the Saturday paper in the living room, Wade watching some reality show on the seat next to him with Mary Puppins in his lap, when Althea leaves her room and shuffles into the kitchen.

“Alexa,” she calls out, “what time is it?”

A robotic voice replies, “The time is 5:43pm.”

Logan drops the newspaper from obscuring his face. He immediately finds the source of the reply on the coffee table: a grey, cylindrical device that looks like a mini speaker, control buttons on its side. It blinks a turquoise light around the rim until the light turns off with a muted beep at the extended silence.

“What the fuck?” he wonders out loud, surprised to see such a familiar gadget.

“Have you not interacted with an Echo before, peanut?” Wade asks. “Did you not have Bezos’ army of listening devices where you’re from?”

Althea barks out a hollow laugh. “You keep calling the damn thing a spy machine—”

“Because I don’t trust it!”

“—but you keep it right there anyway.” She scoffs, making her way to the fridge. “Fuckin’ hypocrite.”

“Well, it’s also convenient!” Wade argues. “Do you miss when I used to shoot the lights off?”

“What the fuck?” Logan says again, but for a completely different reason this time.

“Listen,” Wade starts, and from his tone Logan can tell some bullshit is about to leave his mouth, “sometimes a guy just wants to pass out after walking in at ass o’clock in the morning without having to get up when he forgets to deal with the lights!”

“So you shot the damn lights out?” Logan guesses. “Is that why all the light switch panels are just exposed? Because you shot the fuckin’ plates off?”

“Alexa, tell peanut to stop bullying me!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know that command,” the device says. “Would you like to—”

“Alexa, shut up.”

The cylinder goes quiet with a beep.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” Wade says before Logan gets a chance to berate him more. “Did your world not have Echos?”

“We did,” he admits, “but they were called Alexis.”

“Like Texas!” Wade shoots him a wink before chuckling to himself.

(Presumably to himself, because Logan has no clue what the fuck he’s talking about, as usual.)

Before either of them can elaborate, Althea yells from where she’s bent over in front of the open fridge, “Wade, did you put the fucking milk carton back empty again?!”

Their attention quickly shifts from there.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

The next time Logan notices, it’s over something equally innocuous.

He and Wade hate talking to the authorities when they finish a mission, but none of the X-Men who are way better suited to dealing with humans made it in time to stop their target. He and Wade finished the job before those asscracks even left the X-Mansion, which meant the two of them had to deal with the aftermath until someone more qualified arrived.

“I’ll play you for it!” Wade finally suggests after five whole minutes of arguing over who should talk to the police chief.

He sticks his hands out, a fist over a flat palm. Logan rolls his eyes but dutifully mimics the gesture.

“After three, okay?” Wade clarifies. “No cheating!”

“Let’s just get this the fuck over with.”

Wade nods once.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” he counts as Logan simultaneously chimes, “Paper, scissors, rock, bang!”

They don’t even look to see who won. Instead, they mirror each other’s expression: one of total confusion.

“Mr. Deadpool? Mr. Wolverine?” a voice calls behind them—Logan recognizes it as one of the younger detectives Wade was speaking to earlier. “We need one of you now, please.”

He and Wade finally both look at their hands.

Fuck.

“Ha ha, sucker!” Wades hollers, his rock crushing Logan’s scissors. He only grunts in response when Wade quite literally skips away after slapping Logan on the ass. Logan turns around with a flat expression and follows the detective to where the police chief is giving a statement to some reporter.

Whatever. The sooner this is done the sooner he and Wade can go home.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

Another time it happens, Logan’s not even sure if he even remembers the reference correctly.

He and Wade are at the X-Mansion for another mission, catching up with Ellie and Yukio inside the Blackbird jet while Colossus to grabs more a few more people. Logan’s not quite paying attention to the conversation’s details, more enamoured by the strange friendship the two girls have with Wade.

At some point, Ellie says something that makes Yukio giggle and shove her shoulder, causing Wade to cackle out, “Weird flex, but okay!”

Logan furrows his brows but doesn’t comment because Wade’s already pivoted the topic to something else.

He could swear that the saying was odd flex, but very well. If he actively recalls the kids from his old universe, that was what they used to say, right?

(Most days, he usually tries his best to not remember them. The pain may not be fresh anymore but it still hurts all the same. He’ll never be able to hear Kitty, or Jubilee, or Rogue, or Bobby cracking jokes he doesn’t understand but finds amusing nonetheless. Never again.)

Apparently, he’s still deep in thought by the time Laura walks up to him. Her face looks remarkably similar to one he sees on himself all the time—brows pinched, eyes narrowed, lips turned downward. At least on Laura the expression looks like a cute pout compared to Logan’s usual, unimpressed glare.

“What’s wrong?” She looks to the other three still caught up in their conversation, not paying Logan any mind. “Did they say something?”

Logan shakes his head. There’s no point in dwelling over the kids’ memes from his old life. He’s poked at those memories like an old bruise more than enough now.

“Nah,” he says, mostly telling the truth, “just remembered something.”

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

He finally catches on by the following incident.

A song has been driving Logan fucking crazy for the past four hours. The goddamn earworm simply refuses to get out of his head, even with Wade’s incessant rambling at his phone in the background. What he’s blabbing about right this moment, Logan has no clue, because lyrics are on loop in his brain and he can’t hear anything above it.

Time for a replay session, he supposes, taking a seat in the living room. Hopefully making his ears bleed from the melody on constant repeat will finally get it out of his head.

“Hey, bub, can you play that ‘Vegas glowing’ song by Handsome Delight on the Alexis?” he interjects in the middle of Wade’s rant.

Wade furrows his hairless brow-line. “Come again? This time in my ear? Also, it’s still just Alexa.”

“You know,” Logan says, followed by a vague hum. “You walk in over time / ‘Cause we both know you’re mine / Fallin’ straight, don’t look down / Las Vegas glowin’ on the town,” he sings, hoping he has the correct lyrics. “That one?”

“One: Excellent singing, honey badger! Do you practice scales when I’m not listening? Because that voice is—” Wade cuts off to do a chef’s kiss with his fingers. “Two: Nope! Still no clue what that song is.”

“Stop fuckin’ with me, Wade.” Logan grunts, remembering how annoyingly often the song was playing on the radio when he was bar hopping earlier this year. Wade listens to pop music almost exclusively—there’s no way he would’ve escaped this song. “It was in the Top 40s for months. You had to have heard of this.”

Wade just blinks at him. “I really, truly have not.”

“Wait,” he pauses in realization, “does Handsome Delight not exist here?”

“Never heard of them!” Wade confirms, shaking his head and starts typing away on his phone. “Aaaaand Google here only pulls up a very adorable cake when I search that name.” He shows his screen to Logan, who grumbles in frustration after squinting at the results.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“Why? What’s up, buttercup?”

“Shit. The damn song’s stuck in my head but I only know that stupid part.” He groans at himself, throwing his head back onto the couch, miffed that he can’t scratch the song’s itch like he thought. “I was hoping I could put it on repeat so I’d finally get it out of my system.”

“Sorry, peanut!” Wade pats his shoulder. “If it helps though, I can sing anything you want to rid you of the earworm plaguing you! I’ll be your personal jukebox!”

His answer is automatic. “I’d rather chop my ears off.”

Wade, obviously, starts singing anyway.

“You are! My fiiiire—”

Logan promptly sticks a claw into each ear. He might have pushed a little too far and nicked his brain a bit on both sides, which is just fine because the injury causes him to briefly pass out, a good solution as any at this point.

The last thing he sees is Wade’s comically dismayed face.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

Logan accepts that this universe is just weirdly different after one more incident.

He and Wade made it home too goddamn late last night after finishing a job that took way too fucking long, which meant they both pass out for a solid eight hours and wake up well past noon for their first meal of the day. Althea had already left to do her own business (Logan never asks her what she’s up to, and he’s probably better for it) and took along Mary Puppins, so it’s just him and Wade in the kitchen.

Wade’s already sitting at the table, digging into something from a silvery packet when Logan shuffles by.

“Mornin’, peanut.”

“Hrm.”

“Figured I’d get some real food later, but I’m too damn tired right now, so, y’know—” he lifts up what Logan finally sees is a Pop-Tart, “—Pop-Tarts.”

Logan assesses that he is also too damn tired to actually cook himself a meal, but also too hungry to ignore his appetite. He combs through the cupboards with a quiet hum until he can kick his ass to get some real food. He eventually decides to follow Wade’s lead to eat something now and order more food later, going to the cabinet and bypassing Wade’s stock of sugary children’s cereal for the Special K.

“Not digging into the Raisin Bran, old man?” Wade teases.

“I may be old,” he tosses right back, “but I don’t need to act like it too.” He grabs the milk (a new carton because Althea chewed Wade out last time), a bowl, and a spoon, bumping the utensil drawer closed with his hip. Then, he makes his way to the kitchen table to sit across from Wade.

As always, he pours the milk first.

“Logan,” Wade says slowly, his eyes growing wide with what looks like concern, “why the fuck are you pouring the milk before the cereal?”

“Because that’s how you’re supposed to do it.” Logan shoots him a bewildered look because that’s how everyone does it? He’s pretty sure it’s common knowledge to pour the milk first so you get an even distribution of crunch. He’s adding the cereal in when he asks, “What the fuck are you on about?”

Wade’s horrified gaze flickers back and forth between Logan and his bowl. “That’s so fucking cursed.”

At this point, Logan doesn’t bother dignifying that with a response, digging into his bowl with a dismissive grunt and shake of his head. He very purposefully ignores the implication that people on this planet pour the cereal first.

Now that’s fucking cursed.

Logan may have been engineered to be a wild animal, but he’s not a goddamn savage.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

&1

Logan finds out that Dolly Parton is still alive on this planet.

He considers forgiving the cereal before milk bullshit just for that.

——————————————

(More notes on Ao3.)

[angelicbeaut]

Decide.

I remember when I started my journey learning of myself and my power, I was very insecure in my ability, which by the way is totally normal. It didn’t seem natural for me to just decide what I wanted and have it, it seemed too easy, because a lot of us did not grow up having things so easily so there can be some resistance within us to accept our desires. Again, normal.

However, we have to understand that there are infinite realities, infinite scenarios, infinite lives that we can live. It doesn’t have to come with emotion, it doesn’t even have to feel real at first, but you yourself have the power to choose who you will be. That is the point of life, and if you have discovered this, congrats you have won.

There are many things I have decided over the years. At one point in life I decided I was ugly, and I experienced nothing but that. However the lovely part about deciding is that you can always change your mind. As of now, I have made several decisions that have completely altered my life:

I decided my mom was going to mom into a new house in a wealthy neighborhood by a park I grew up going to but could never afford to live close by to. She called me last week and told me about a house, in the wealthy neighborhood, by the exact park that she is buying this month.

I decided that I was beautiful, and that every person I like is obsessed with me and from that point forward I have randomly manifested love interests I haven’t even spoken to in years calling me wanting a chance, flowers, dates, compliments, secret admirers, and more.

I decided when I was around 16 that I was going to be a rich housewife. Now this is more of a in the future thing, but I have no doubt I will live that life because I have decided. I can see it so clearly in my mind that I have quite frankly already been there, and I know it to be true. So much so that everyone in my life has told me they don’t see me in any other type of relationship when I get married except one of that nature. Right now I’m preoccupied with just being a girl, but again, I KNOW it is going to happen, and my life is aligning every second of the day for me to get exactly what I want.

I decided in high school that no matter what happened during the year, I never ended with less than a B. missing assignments, things turned in late, missing class, whatever it was, didn’t matter and doesn’t matter, and to this day, I have never received less than a B, even in college. It’s something I’ve always believed and it’s never failed me.

These are just a few things, but most importantly, once you decide. STAY STEADFAST IN YOUR DECISION. You need to understand that things are always happening, things are shifting every second in your favor when you hold on to your belief. They quite literally have no choice. EVERYTHING IS YOU, EVERYTHING MOVES ACCORDING TO YOU!

If you decide you can’t manifest, you won’t. If you decide this is fake, it has no choice but to be fake. You will forever be stuck in a loop unless YOU choose otherwise.

So sweets, what’re you going to decide today?

luv, che 🌷

[charmedreincarnation]

hey charm !

i have known about manifestation for years now but i still have a problem with it. so basically, i know for sure that i’m going to enter the void but i don’t know when. everytime something happens in my life, i’m like "it doesn’t matter anyway bc i’m going to manifest my dream life". i have been daydreaming all the time for years so it’s very natural for me. as i see myself in stories that my brain creates, i started doing the same for my dream life. now, i know exactly what it will look like and i live those scenarios in my head like if they were really happening.

the problem is that when i want to enter the void, i’m always trying (i don’t really see myself succeeding) bc i’m scared that if i put too much effort in it or if i really believe it and i don’t succeed i’ll be discouraged.

i really don’t know what to do bc i realized that if i continue just trying and thinking "i’ll get my dream life later" i’ll never manifest it. also i don’t understand the wish fulfilled state bc i feel like i’m already doing it by daydreaming and being sure that i’m going to have my dream life. i want to convince myself that i can enter the void and get everything i want RIGHT NOW and not "later if i’m lucky enough". i feel stuck and i don’t know what to do anymore to keep going.

i’m sorry for the long ask and my bad english…

thank you 🤍🤍

Hi love, first and foremost your English is even better than mine so don’t apologize, and secondly I struggled with this so badly I completely understand.

It's easy to feel stuck waiting for what you want to come to fruition. Even though you might sense that your desire is on its way, it can seem far off, like it's in the future instead of the present. Time passing can make this feeling even stronger, even though time is always moving forward, which makes it even more contradictory. But feeling comfortable and sure that what you want is already yours is the important feeling. By focusing on the idea that your desire is already part of your life, you will shift from waiting for the future to feeling like your desires are already here and now. That's why it's emphasized in the community that you should allow yourself to believe deeply in the fulfillment of your desires right now.

When you really embrace the natural feeling of knowing that your desire is already a part of your life, you will naturally align your thoughts and feelings, with the state of having what you want regardless of the method or technique you’re using to achieve it. That’s what helps me feel confident about making my desires a reality.

seriously understand what you want isn't just something for the future; it's a part of your life right now.The process of manifestation isn't just about daydreaming or imagining your desired reality though that helps. It's about deeply believing that what you want is already real. Shifting your mindset from waiting for luck to deserving and capable of having your dream life will always give you comfort. Also to overcome feeling stuck, i liked practicing mindfulness and using affirmations. Being mindful will help you stay focused on the present, while affirmations helped strengthen my belief!

It's also helpful to detach from the need for immediate results. By letting go of the pressure for instant success, it should reduce your anxiety and allow your inner world to work its magic while staying true to your intentions. Because regardless of how long you think it will take, if you understand it’s immediate and time is passing regardless you will stop trying to fight with the concept of “waiting.” I also recommend reading my time post and this one as well!

Regardless It's natural to feel unsure at times, but start by nurturing your belief in the wish fulfilled state and keep doing what else keep your mind at bay with knowing you really don’t have to do anything unless you want to. Because you’re always doing eveything right

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday

“I can’t believe you fucked that old man.”

Bill’s head snaps up so quickly from where it was inside of the air duct that he smacks it on the metal internals. When he reappears cursing and rubbing at his head, there’s dust bunnies in his hair and clinging to his eyelashes.

“You can’t believe I what?”

“You fucked that old man,” Red repeats, feet up on the counter as she lazily reads something called “Lumberjack Layabouts Weekly.”

“I—“ And Bill lets out a grunt as he comes down from the ladder to slam his hands on the counter and lean into her space. The action does little to phase her other than make her look up.

“Neither of those things are right!”

Red takes a second to turn the page of her magazine, but doesn’t look away from Bill.

“That’s not what I heard.”

Bill’s eyes roll back into his skull for a second. He thinks of what he was told to do both by the therapium and Question Mark’s fiancée: deep breaths in and deep breaths out, count to ten, don’t visualize throttling them no matter how fucking annoying these fleshbags are.

“First of all, I’m older than him,” he begins, like that’s the important part.

“You don’t look it.”

“That’s because I take good care of myself.” Which is only partially true.

When the Axolotl and the entire therapism decided Bill’s methods of rehabilitation weren’t working, they’d sent him here. To hell.

…to earth.

Stripped of his powers, they’d shoved him into a meat suit that was an “appropriate approximation of his natural form” (Bill resents that statement entirely, but the appearance has grow on him). The dark skin and golden eyes are quite a contrast coupled with the golden hair offset by strays strands of grey or white hair. Melody has helped him figure out how to wash and maintain it, which is far more maintenance than he was expecting after watching Ford for years barely do anything more than occasionally wash it and wake up. Bill’s currently picking dust bunnies out of an individual lock, throwing them into the trashcan by the counter (like hell is he sweeping up in this damned place more than he has to).

He has it on good authority that this is a desirable fleshbag form, both from the open way that people compliment him and the way people stared. …he’s getting used to the staring and has stopped threatening to flay people alive who let their eyes linger too long.

Question Mark calls it progress; Bill calls it not wanting to see that haunted, barely contained disappointment on Melody’s face again. She is simultaneously the kindest and cruelest person he’s met on this plane. In spite of literally everyone’s reservations about Bill being on the same plane as the rest of these humans, she’d been willing to hear him out, offer him accommodations here at the Mystery Shack, and even provide a job if he could behave.

She also detailed to him with a sunshiney smile and no insignificant amount of knife waving that if Bill started anything, anything looking like world domination under her roof, not even the Axolotl would be able to save him.

If nothing else, she’s done more than a little to earn his respect and compliance than anyone else in this entire reality.

So, he’d gotten used to people staring and it doesn’t bother him.

At least, until one particular person started staring.

“Second of all, I didn’t—“ And he looks around, makes sure no hide or hair of thirteen year-old menace can be seen before he continues, “—fuck Sixer.”

Red closes the magazine entirely and shifts to take her feet off the counter and lean on it with her arms folded—this is what she’d wanted to hear.

“I heard Stan caught you two in the bathroom.”

Bill clears his throat and starts back up the ladder to avoid having to look at Red even as he feels something warm in his face.

“Stan doesn’t know what he saw.”

Red lets out a raucous laugh that makes Bill wince and wrinkle his nose as he sticks his head back in the vent to continue clearing it out.

“I heard that you two also got into a fistfight at dinner before that. Weird foreplay, but I can respect it.”

Everyone, mostly Question Mark and Shooting Star, have insisted on family dinners since both sets of Pines twins returned to Gravity Falls. And, somehow, Bill gets lumped into that because he sleeps in the Shack (specifically, the sofa in the living room because everywhere else is off-limits). It’s been three weeks and most everything has been simpatico, Shooting Star was the fastest to warm up after her initial talk too of “unspeakable horrors” she’ll unleash on him if he steps a toe out of line. The fact that he’s powerless seems to make her willing to humor him.

…also something about him looking like a wet rat? And it was a good thing? Bill didn’t ask. Or, rather, he had asked and she brushed him off and because he knew Stanley will flay him alive if he lays a finger on either niece or nephew, he let it go.

Pine Tree has been a lot more hesitant in his behavior, sure, but he’s recently started being in the same room with Bill and musing aloud in ways that Bill knows are directed at him without talking to him. Pine Tree will state something stupid about the state of the town and when Bill corrects him, he’ll scribble it down, go silent, then rinse and repeat.

Stan has been… well, they were avoiding each other without problem. The closest they get to a conversation is when they’re both sitting in the living room after everyone else has gone to bed and before Stan goes to his bed and Bill passes out on the sofa. Their talk is a roundabout back and forth about complaining about what’s on the television and saying there’s “never anything good on”. Occasionally Bill will liken something on the screen to something he’s seen on television in other dimensions, Stan will grunted, and then they go back to silence.

They’ve also worked out a system where they’re allies in their silent agreement to watch The Duchess Approves as long as no one else finds out about it.

…and then there’s Ford.

They haven’t been in the same room as each other outside of dinner even remotely. Bill doesn’t look at him, Ford doesn’t acknowledge him, and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

It doesn’t bother him even a little that Ford won’t even look at him, won’t talk to him. Doesn’t bother him that when Bill does talk, he rolls his eyes. It doesn’t bother him either that Ford gets up every time Bill enters the room even for a moment. It’s not like he cares about the asshole or wants to see him. It’s fine for Bill.

Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.

And because it is so fine, he’s not sure what exactly caused him to get mouthy with Sixer the night before.

Ford had made some inane comment and Bill couldn’t help but correct him. Over a trillion years in the multiverse, he knows when he’s right about something.

Ford bit back.

And Bill argued against.

It’d devolved into a petty back-and-forth, both of them digging their claws in places it shouldn’t go without caring for the carnage it spread.

It ended when Bill called Ford “my shining star” like this was just a philosophical disagreement thirty-one years prior.

He shouldn’t have done that.

The next thing Bill knew, he and Ford were rolling on the ground, fists flying and snarling at one another. Ford caught him in the nose, Bill punched him in the mouth, both of them scratching and pulling hair like a pair of animals.

It took Stanley and Soos both to pull them apart, both of them still swinging until they were forced to calm down.

After that, Bill had left his unfinished dinner to sit on the roof and wait out everyone else’s dinner. It was only because the blood wouldn’t stop flowing from his nose while the blood on his knuckles had dried uncomfortably to the point he kept accidentally ripping it when he flexed his hand that convinced him to go downstairs.

He’s still figuring out this whole human thing and, yeah, he was fumbling with the tape and his nose was dripping all over everything and he was fighting not to get it on the stupid sweater he got from Shooting Star and—

That’s how Ford found him.

There were no words as he crowded into the small bathroom with him, took off his gloves, and started to doctor Bill.

Neither of them say that there’s something familiar about this, them being together while cleaning up blood and puss and setting bones, usually injuries inflicted on Ford by Bill. There’s probably something funny about the idea of it being the other way around now.

They’re both too tired or embarrassed to say anything for awhile, but then Ford makes an innocuous statement that raises Bill’s hackles and there goes the peace. Then they’re shoving and pushing into a wall, Bill effectively having Ford cornered against it, chest-to-chest, spitting in each other’s faces, and then—

Then they were decidedly not fighting.

“Yeah, well, Fordsy is a know-it-all prick who doesn’t actually know everything,” Bill defends. “He started the fight.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Red replies in a singsong voice.

“And who’s telling you this?!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Red goes quiet for a moment, but he knows she’s still staring at him. “Did you two really make out though?”

Bill is quiet, can’t quite find the words he wants to say about this. Was his tongue in Ford’s mouth? Yes. Were Ford’s hands in his hair? Also yes. Did Stan walk in while Bill’s hand was halfway down the front of Ford’s pants? Regrettably.

“It was a… heat of the moment thing.”

“Wow. I mean, I knew you two were something back then, but I figured you two had, you know, moved past that.”

Bill doesn’t respond for awhile, leaning back to sweep the dust into the garbage bag he’s holding.

“So did I.”