#only other thing dreamer didn't mention

[thepmmmwitchproject]

The fact we didn't get any info on the minotaur witch...

I'm sad magireco's shutting down... I feel like so many characters have been missed... I suppose having all (almost, I'm so so sorry Suleika) anime witches now added in Scene Zero was super nice at least

Satomi and Mirai never even got art... like damn... so fucking cruel...

And it felt like Oriko barely even scratched the surface of its characters... only Oriko, Kirika and Yuma when the main cast has ten characters... I guess fuck extra story and sadness prayer :T I will still never not be mad at the suzune and tart bias especially since they both have vile, disgusting artists behind them...

And we never got the ep12 anime magical girls even with the ultimate madoka 2nd magia tease... sigh...

We got a LOT of good witches through magireco though. Im so glad they actually revealed Winchester and the witch of symbols cause in earlier days I really didnt think they would.

I just hope magia exedra is good and gives me lots and lots of witches!!! I'm honestly wondering though... will exedra keep the magireco characters or ditch them to go only back to the main five..? Hmmm

[a-hazbin-reader]

I've seen you mention that alastor would make little deer bleats in a few fics, do you have anything for the reader hearing him bleat for the first time, like reader said something flirty that caught him off guard or while petting his ears, alastor would definitely be the time to be like "what ever are you talking about dear, you're hearing things" and try to change the subject out of embarrassment

- 🐞

I LOVE IT

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive, Explicit s e x towards the end

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor makes deer noises, usually when he's pissed off or exerting some of his power

It's a very emotional and unintentional thing, something he normally can't help or hide

Usually, you can hear buck grunts, warning calls, though elk bugle sounds dominate most of the other noises he makes

You didn't even know he was capable of making softer sounds until you found out by accident

The two of you were alone, sharing a romantic moment with you in his lap and his hands caressing your body

You had pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath when his twitching ears suddenly got your attention

Not that Alastor minded, keeping his mouth busy with your neck and shoulder instead

As if you could ever pass up the opportunity to touch those fluffy ears...

You couldn't help but scratch and rub his furry ears, leaning into kiss one while giving it a playful nip

Only to be surprised by the soft bleat that escapes from Alastor and the way his entire body goes stiff out of embarrassment

"Alastor, did you just-"

"Would you look at the time?! I must go, darling! Things to do, people to see!"

Leaves you on the floor, on your back, and in shock

You try to bring it up to him later but that doesn't work-

"Alastor, about that sound you made..."

"Hm? Oh! I merely had to clear my throat! Not to worry, darling! It won't happen again."

"But I want it to."

👀

It becomes a game between you two, well...more of a game for you, Alastor has never been so nervous in his fucking life

You're on a mission to hear that adorable noise again by any means possible

He's eating breakfast?? You're leaning over him and kissing along his neck while pouring him tea

Which doesn't work, he just tilts his head and gives you a contented growl before continuing with his meal

He's taking a small break? Eyes closed and relaxed? You try going for his ears again, massaging them

That doesn't work either, instead he gives you a warm smile and pulls you down to lay with him

You try flirting with him, maybe you can say something sultry and catch him so off guard he makes that sound again?

Instead, you just get yourself into trouble because instead of something small and subtle you just drop a fucking bomb instead

You corner him and pin him to the wall, mustering up every bit of courage and control to push forward

"Do you believe dreams can come true? Because I dream of you cumming inside me."

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT PICK UP LINE

Angel

Oh that makes sense

It doesn't work, instead Alastor gets a predatory look on his face and he's pulling you closer to him

"Luckily for you, my dear~ I happen to have a soft spot for dreamers such as yourself~"

Oh fuck

It actually does end up working in your favor, just not the way you thought it would

You don't even remember how you end up naked on your back, legs spread to accommodate Alastor between them

Both of you are close, having been at it for hours at this point, desperate ragged sounds coming from the two of you

Your nails are digging into his back, no doubt leaving nasty marks that he'll later tease you for

He has one clawed hand on your hip while the other grips and makes deep grooves into the headboard

You're nearly out of it, mind fizzy and hot with the feeling of being so full of Alastor's cock that you almost miss your chance

You know exactly how to get that sound out of him

Suddenly, your legs lock around him and you're tugging him down to you to give him a desperate steamy kiss

He's caught off guard and startled but eagerly reciprocates your actions, chasing a building orgasm between you both

He pulls away to growl and pant, head rolling back as his thrusts become sharp and erratic

You tug him back to you by his hair and suddenly give him a watery smile, barely able to hold on because you're so close

"A-Alastor...haa...I love you...~"

And that's what does it, his eyes widen in surprise as he suddenly releases inside you, letting out a pathetic sounding bleat

He's so mortified afterwards, burying his face in your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair. Both of you shuddering and trying to catch your breaths

"You...you are an evil evil person..."

You can't help but laugh and kiss his head, scratching around his antlers affectionately

"I love you too, Alastor~ Every part of you~"

This one got away from me...it's probably not what you asked for but... I hope you like it!!

[bvidzsoo]

Under the pretense (1)

The second installment of Popular boys? Overrated ♡

❝𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢, 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲.❞

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

🎭Warning: cursing, very slight mention of being suicidal 🎭Word count: 6.2k 🎭Genre: humor, cliché themes, 90's rom-com vibes; University!au; Popular guy!au; Sport!au; Enemies to Lovers!au 🎭Rating: nc-17 🎭Summary: What was supposed to be the best time of your life turned into something more bizarre and only slightly fun. Don't get me wrong, having to share your theater class out of the blue with popular guy Jeong Yunho, to most, didn't sound like the worst idea, but to you...yeah, you would've been more grateful if the principal found other methods of punishment for her son's misbehavior.

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I present you the start of Yunho and our MC's story, I hope it caught your attention and you'll stick around for the next two parts. You can also check out Seonghwa's, which happens in the same universe, it's in the series m.list. The taglist is open, so just lmk in whose part you'd like to be tagged. I made a visual board and playlist for the series, so check them out as I still update them! ^^ Thank you for reading and let me know what you thought of this part, I love reading your feedback! divider

Taglist: @anxiousskylar @philijack @alienvibecheck @yunhosfairy

♡ Series M.list ♡

꧁༺ Visual Board ༻꧂

♫ Playlist ♫

            I had always been a dreamer, a child with big sparkling eyes, eager to discover the world and its wonders. My parents had always considered me naïve and way too kind, but I found life easier to navigate if I remained humble and kind to those around me. I was not too fond of loud spaces and huge crowds, I would much rather prefer smaller circles where everyone came together to spend their time in silence. That’s how I discovered my elementary school’s reading club. I had been young and disoriented after a strenuous P.E. class when walking down the hallway, pushed into a door by two bigger boys as they chased each other down the hallway. The door I was slammed into wasn’t closed, so I very ungraciously fell inside a classroom in which five people sat in a circle, in silence, with books in their hands and candy on the round table. Eyes fell onto me, mostly surprised, and I blushed as I sputtered my apologies, embarrassed and wanting to hide away as I had disturbed their peace, but my curiosity got the better of me. The teacher in the room made sure I was fine and asked whether I wanted to join them when she noticed me staring longingly at the book in her hands. I didn’t say no to her.

And really, that’s how my love for literature and theatre sparked, evolving into a passion by the time I reached my high school graduation. I knew what I wanted to be, I knew what I had to do next. I had been a theatre kid my whole life, so when my mother rushed inside my room one cool summer evening with my acceptance letter in her hands, I knew my life would change in the next few seconds. Allston Hall University, the dream institution of every student who wishes to become someone important and useful in the near future. I was one of those students, tears streaming down my cheeks due to happiness when my mother read the letter, informing me that I had been accepted and was even the student with the highest grade currently. It was a dream come true, everything I have worked for, my aspirations and hard work were tangible, and I finally felt like I could release the breath of air that’s been constricting my lungs ever since I sent in my application. I was rushing towards the future I wanted, the one I had been dreaming of.

But all good things had a downside to them. Allston Hall University was huge, the biggest in our county, and it harboured various majors and many people, to the point you’d have to watch your every step in the hallways to avoid crashing into anyone. My first day, and week, had been nerve-wracking. People were loud and friendly, sometimes too friendly, to the point I felt uncomfortable in their presence and had to excuse myself to take a moment of solitude. Despite being a theatre kid myself, I felt like the odd one in my circle of people, the one that didn’t fully belong, the one that was a bit different. Everyone around me was outgoing and boisterous, eager to be heard, and even more eager to make more friends. I was quiet and curious, but I liked watching people from the sidelines, assessing a situation from afar before jumping into anything. I liked to meet new people, but I struggled to find common ground with them. I never had many friends growing up, most were surface-level, but the one true friend I did have decided to move counties and start working, instead of following an academic path. There was nothing wrong with that, but our time was limited together and she rarely visited, our friendship has transformed into a long-distance one.

But, to my utmost surprise, I didn’t stay friendless at this huge university for too long. As an extracurricular, I have picked up a Visual Arts class since I have been always interested in it. The class was small and filled with people who dressed better than in any fashion magazine I had seen, all of them having a peculiar aura that I seemed to enjoy a lot. And, to my surprise, they were more like me than my own colleagues. They were quiet, mostly sticking to themselves with big headphones on as they bobbed their heads to the music, briefly greeting you once you entered the classroom. They were mostly art majors, but they didn’t make me feel bad for not being one. A passion was a passion, and they didn’t make fun of you for loving what you loved. However, even here, it seemed that there was someone who wasn’t like the others, someone who was loud and energetic, always laughing and joking with students and professors alike. She was like a happy virus, her happy disposition contagious, and without realizing it at first, I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Perhaps it was because we were complete opposites, unlike my closest friend who thought and viewed the world similarly to me, but with Wendy everything seemed to feel like a new experience.

I couldn’t tell when it happened when the two of us became best friends, but it’s been a year since and we were almost inseparable. Wendy loved spending her free time with me, humming to herself and drawing while I wrote sonnets and read through the next play we’d be going through or even performing with Mrs. Jeong. Wendy felt like a fresh breeze, ready to yank me away from my monotonous days, eager to experience something new. I hated amusement parks, but I went to one with her and had the fun of my life, having never screamed or laughed as much as that afternoon. Wendy couldn’t skate, but one snowy evening, I took her to the skating ring and taught her how to find her balance, and through baby steps, she became even better than me. Wendy loved visual arts but she never understood the charm of a book, a play, or a poem, so I brought her along to the reading club I had been frequenting since my freshman year in high school, and it was an unforgettable experience for the both of us, but Wendy concluded that perhaps literature just wasn’t for her. Much similar to my experience, when I let her drag me to Allston Hall’s first baseball game of the year, all excited and giddy to see her favourite players, only for me to conclude at the end of the game that the sport held no interesting elements for me to find likeable or enjoyable, baseball just wasn’t invented for me.

So yes, Wendy and I were opposite sides of the same coin, eager to learn more and discover the world through our own lenses while dragging the other after ourselves. This would explain why we were currently decked out at the bleachers, sitting at the lowest spot as Wendy’s eyes followed the boys while they played a friendly game and warmed up for their very soon upcoming game. Wendy was athletic and loved to get in a good morning run, which she usually did outside the bleachers to catch a peek of when the boys would go in to exercise. It was embarrassing at first, to walk in every second day with her and have the boys gawking at us, but now it was plainly amusing to see Wendy fall over herself whenever one of them acknowledged her. Her father had been a player in a smaller league, so Wendy grew up in the sport, hence her immense love for it. She was convinced the boys on the University’s team were undiscovered gems and she made sure to stick around them until one of them finally asked her out. She thought I didn’t know, but it was rather obvious that her eyes were set on Byun Baekhyun, the biggest trickster on the team with a notorious grip that could send any batter into a spiral when he’d pitch—these were Wendy’s words, not mine.

I continued flipping through the shortened version of Pride and Prejudice as we would soon do a small audition to see who got which role. Mrs. Jeong wanted to do something special and new this year, so there have been added elements to the play—ones that would send Jane Austen into an existential crisis, in my opinion, but Mrs. Jeong likes to think out of the box and considers herself an innovative person—which I agree with, but the play would’ve been best without the modifications done to it. Wendy, sitting in front of me as I had taken the bench between my legs, hunched over my play, sighed dreamily and tapped her fingers against her chin. She was usually a very loud person, but surprisingly she knew when to remain silent, when to give me space and tranquillity to be able to enjoy my reading time. Her short hair stuck to her nape as she decided to run an extra lap this morning, on the verge of hyperventilating when she finally ran inside the arena, spotting me easily as I was the only person in the bleachers while the boys did their warm-ups. Her bag was with me and I knew she refrained from sprawling out on the ground just because Baekhyun was watching her, so I handed her the water bottle with an amused smile. Wendy took it with gratitude and sprinkled some on her face and neck before she took a small sip, chest still heaving from her run.

“That was very sexy of you,” I said with a chuckle as she settled next to me, trying to regulate her breaths as she caught Baekhyun’s eyes, cheeks flushing even deeper as he waved in our direction. Wendy fumbled with her water bottle for a second, then eagerly waved back and pushed my thigh with her elbow to acknowledge Baekhyun as well. I flashed him a smile and gave him a curt nod, which he returned before the coach blew his whistle and called out his name to get him to focus again.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Wendy mumbled, grabbing her towel out of her bag, “my throat was parched and my brain felt like it was overheating.”

“When will you stop finding ways to kill yourself?” I raised an eyebrow and Wendy gave me a look of confusion.

“I’m just pushing my limits, nothing you have to worry about.” Wendy shrugged, taking a sip of her water again, “You know I’m training for the marathon.”

“Right, I almost forgot.” I fixed Wendy with a stare, rather unimpressed as it was impossible to forget that she was training for next month’s marathon. She speaks of it daily, around the same time after she finishes her run and complains about being on the verge of passing out, I’m sure there are other ways of training yourself for a marathon that don’t involve putting too much pressure on yourself and sending your body into despair as it clings to life—a bit dramatic, but that’s what being a theatre kid made of me.

This was half an hour ago, and now Wendy had completely settled down as she was leaned back on her hands, gazing out onto the field as I blocked out the sound of a bat hitting the ball every few minutes, enraptured by the play as I imagined Mr. Darcy standing in front of me, thick eyebrows furrowed and eyes shining with confusion as Miss Elizabeth—me—tells him that he cannot disrespect her whole family and look down on her, and then expect her to fall to her knees and accept his affections. The language was a lot more modern than the one Jane Austen had used, this is where Mrs. Jeong’s crafting comes into play and makes me cringe as Elizabeth is supposed to tell Mr. Darcy that ‘she won’t throw herself at him like every other bitch’, I just knew Jane Austen was rolling in her grave at the atrocity that’s been done to her masterpiece. I could try and convince Mrs. Jeong to modify that part, hopefully, as she’s rather keen on me due to how seriously I take her classes. Cheers erupted on the field and they increased in volume as Wendy gasped next to me, holding her hands together as she was on the verge of shooting up from her seat. The boys were merely training, yet Wendy treated it like a real game every time she got the chance.

“Oh, that’s a home run—” Wendy’s voice was strained, and she sprang up from her spot as the whole team exclaimed, making me lose my train of thought as I couldn’t focus in loud surroundings, “Seungkwan just hit a home run!”

I looked out towards the field as the boys crowded around Seungkwan, forming a circle as they made howling sounds and jumped around, making Seungkwan cackle loudly as he basked in the attention. He was a rather uptight guy, but out on the field, he was simply amazing although he’s never managed to hit a home run until now.

“Oh, this is amazing,” Wendy mused, her eyes sparkling as she clapped away, showing the boys thumbs-up as they turned our way to bow, pushing Seungkwan to the front as he grinned widely, “They’ll ace the next game, Y/N, I can feel it deep in my bones.”

I chuckled but said nothing as I knew this meant a lot to Wendy, and only grabbed her arm to make her sit down when the coach threw her an irritated look. They couldn’t kick us out because we weren’t doing anything illegal or interrupting their training, but I knew the coach wasn’t too fond of two girls always lingering around the bleachers to distract his boys. Not that it was our attention, but I have caught them busy ogling us instead of doing their warm-ups. Wendy was buzzing as she sat down, chewing her bottom lip before she started chewing her nails, making me grip her wrist to stop her as I knew she did it subconsciously. She gave me a grateful smile and I turned back to my play as the boys had calmed down too, going back to their friendly game.

“Do you want to stay for longer?” I asked as I flipped to the next page, eyebrows furrowing as it was Mr. Darcy’s monologue that wasn’t in the original work, “I think I could make use of a coffee right now.”

“Can’t we stay for another fifteen minutes at least?” Wendy asked with a pout, her sparkly eyes widening as I gave her an unimpressed look, “Yunho is up for pitching right now and then it’s Baekhyun again, I promise we can leave once he’s done.”

I sighed but knew I wouldn’t drag my best friend away before she got to watch Baekhyun pitch again, so I just nodded and threw a quick glance at the field. Indeed, player number 04 was up for pitching, Jeong Yunho. His name didn’t leave a distaste in my mouth as I, thankfully, had never had to interact with him, but it was inevitable to know who he was with how huge his reputation had gotten over the last year. We started out at university at the same time, he’s been a baseball player since he was just a child, and he was rising in the ranks rather quickly. He was amazing, even as someone who still didn’t understand how baseball worked, I knew he was good at what he did and he was often praised for his skills. He was the best pitcher the team had—the university has had for ages, at least based on the coach’s words—and he carried himself like a successful athlete would, always smiling brightly with his warm eyes twinkling with mischief-ridden in them.

Sure, Jeong Yunho had a warm and perceiving aura, friendly and even kind, but even those couldn’t stop the rumours spreading of him being a heartthrob. Better said, he was a womanizer. He appeared to be this soft and puppy type of guy, sweeping girls off their feet with his acts of service and soft-spoken nature, but just as quickly as he wrapped them around his fingers, he dropped them without his ‘kind’ smile breaking from his lips, eyes even teary when he told them that he just wasn’t right for them, that they deserved someone better. Behind his innocent mask lay a man who enjoyed playing with others and using them to his liking with a deceiving smile and excuses that didn’t make sense upon another thought. But many girls didn’t care about the rumours, they thought they were simply fake because certainly the sweet and kind Jeong Yunho couldn’t be like that, not with them at least. And that is exactly how they go their hearts broken by the most sought out playboy of our university, from the baseball team at least. The soccer team was even worse, you’d never hear the end of how cool and mysterious Park Seonghwa was. Personally, I preferred my peace of mind and stayed away from both.

I heard the bat collide against the ball with a loud bang, and I could tell it was a strong hit as the boys ‘oohed’, but Wendy just gasped, stiffening in her seat. I paid it no mind as she reacted to every single thing the players did, living in the moment and giving her all to the game—even if just friendly. But some exclaimed alarmed and tried to warn us—or me—of something, but I was too busy ignoring them as my irritation levels were rising. I just really wanted a cup of coffee and silence to be able to finish reading the play before my class later today.

“Y/N!” Wendy’s shrill exclamation made my head snap up, taking in her wide eyes as she gesticulated, only confusing me more. Turning my head to the right, to see what got the boys reacting like that as well, my own eyes widened into saucers when I realized a white small ball was hurling at my face rather quickly. I knew I could dodge it, it wasn’t too late yet, but I felt blindsided as I stared at it, accepting the fact that it would either break my nose or give me a black eye. But someone was moving on the field, had been for a few seconds now, running full speed towards me and the ball. And before it could collide against my face and ruin it, a black glove was in my face, so close that if I puckered my lips, it would’ve touched the fabric. My heart was beating fast and I stared up at the person who caught the ball with wide eyes, exhaling loudly as Wendy yelped and shot up from her seat again.

For a second, it was completely silent, even the coach stood staring at us with an open mouth, whistle threatening to fall from it, but the boys on the field suddenly started howling once again, yelling and calling out my ‘saviour’s’ name. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as his cheeks were rosy from the bite of frost of the morning air, but also from having pitched for the last few minutes. I could feel my own cheeks tinge red from the adrenaline and also from the way the guy’s warm chocolate eyes seemed to melt into mine. Yunho looked pleased that he managed to catch the ball, and his fingers closed around it as he lowered his hand and leaned down a little. My back was rigid as I couldn’t help but blink at him wordlessly, gripping the play tightly in my hands.

“Are you okay?” His eyebrows furrowed more, and his face was ridden with worry as he searched for eye contact. I gulped and averted my eyes, exhaling shakily.

“Yes,” I took a tentative glance at Yunho and cleared my throat, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry.” My eyebrows furrowed as he looked apologetic, biting his bottom lip which was cherry red and plump, “I positioned my arm wrong and I was distracted when I pitched, I almost hurt you.”

“Oh, uhm,” I stared at him for a few seconds as I felt Wendy sit back down and subtly nudge my arm, “It’s fine, you managed to catch it so—good job?”

Yunho chuckled, and I was taken aback by how high-pitched it sounded and how warm his tone was, cheeks puffy and rosy, and definitely giving him this sweet and innocent aura, “Glad to be your saviour despite putting you in harm's way myself.”

I hummed as I found myself lost for words, all the acting classes I had taken flying out the window. There was something about his gaze that made me feel small, made me forget how to articulate my words, “Best if it doesn’t happen again, right?”

Yunho chuckled and I felt embarrassed, but he didn’t look like he meant bad, he seemed simply amused. I was sure he could tell I was flustered and that only made me feel more embarrassed, “Right, I’ll try to keep my eyes off you next time then, focus more on pitching.”

Wendy gasped next to me as I just stared at Yunho dumbfounded, trying not to let my confusion show at the sudden change of events. Well, I was under the impression nobody paid me any mind as I never really paid them any mind, I was here for Wendy and it was pretty obvious.

“Are you reading a play by any chance?” Yunho asked as he looked down at my lap, and I cleared my throat, feeling hesitant as I nodded my head.

“Yeah, Pride and—”

“Pride and Prejudice,” He smiled sweetly, his eyes hidden by his baseball cap, “my favourite.”

I knew Wendy wanted to scream and jump up and down, but she was doing a good job of remaining put and silent. For some reason, Yunho didn’t pass me as the person who would pick up a book, let alone a play, to read, so I just gave him a tight smile and an unimpressed look. I had heard the rumours, and I was sure they were true, I didn’t want to fall for his schemes.

“Right.” My tone was a bit sharp and I knew it took him off guard because his eyebrows twitched, “Aren’t you supposed to be pitching?”

And as if the coach had heard my words, he blew his whistle loudly and shouted, “Jeong, get back on the field!”

Yunho bit his lower lip and grabbed his cap as he nodded his head, winking at me before he was jogging back onto the field, making me grimace. Wendy’s eyebrows were raised and she had a suggestive smile on her face, but I just sighed and shook my head, deciding that I wanted to have coffee now, “We both know he sleeps with every girl and then dumps them right after, so before you get even started, I’m not interested in him at all.”

“But he’s so handsome and tall.” Wendy sighed dreamily and I chuckled, standing up.

“There are plenty of tall and handsome guys at our university, I’ll find myself a decent one, thank you very much.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get my coffee.”

“But Baekhyun hadn’t pitched yet.”

I chuckled as Wendy whined, rooted to her place as I got off the bench.

“Meet me at the coffee shop then, I have class in an hour so don’t stay for long.”

“I love you! Save me a seat by the window!”

I chuckled and nodded, waving Wendy off as she focused on the game again, eyes wide and attentive. I kept to the side of the field so that I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way and walked quickly so that I could be out of the arena swiftly, without angering the coach. Wonwoo, who was the left fielder, threw me a quick smile and I waved at him as I passed by, feeling eyes on the back of my head. I didn’t turn around to check who it was as the coach had spotted me and narrowed his eyes at me. I bowed my head and then slipped out of the arena, less stressed and happier now that I was about to get my caffeine fill of the day.

             The rest of my day had gone well, and I was more than excited to attend my last class of the day, drama class. We’d hold the rest of our courses at the small theatre of the University as Mrs. Jeong wanted us to focus on the upcoming play only, assignments already handed out as our final grade now depended on finishing it on time and also delivering our best in the play, the two grades turning into our final score. I happily skipped down the stairs of the theatre and greeted a few of my colleagues as I settled not too far from the front rows, somewhere in the middle of the row. I liked sitting by myself so that nobody could distract me while Mrs. Jeong gave us advice and coached us on how to deliver the lines, when to put emotion in it and just how much of it. I placed my coat on the chair on my right and left my backpack on the floor as I leaned down to unzip it and grab the play, my yellow notebook, a black pen and a green marker. I heard the door of the theatre close and open loudly, then running down the stairs and shuffling as I straightened up, trying to organize my things in my lap as I waited for Mrs. Jeong to show up.

To my surprise, there was movement on my left and I looked over, curious of who decided to sit right next to me when there were numerous empty seats in the theatre, only to find Jeong Yunho staring back at me with a surprised expression similar to mine on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hey I know you, hi!”

Yunho and I spoke at the same time as I heard the girls sitting a few rows in the back behind us whisper and giggle to each other. Yunho flushed as he pushed his leather jacket off his wide shoulders and settled quietly in the seat next to mine. I continued staring at him with confusion as his legs spread out wide, his head turning to face me.

“You’re the girl from this morning,” Yunho said as he disregarded my question, “I actually see you around the field often, do you like baseball?”

“No.” I deadpanned and Yunho’s enthusiasm died out at once, smiling unsure, “My friend loves baseball so I tag along with her sometimes.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Yunho’s smile became more confident as his eyes took in my features, making me feel a bit uncomfortable, “And how are you?”

“I’m—fine.” I still didn’t understand what he was doing here, but I wasn’t about to be rude to him, “And you?”

Yunho’s smile widened into a grin, and he threw a short glance behind us when the girls started giggling louder, “Rather good knowing you’re here too. Why are you here?”

I tried to refrain from sighing at his not-so-subtle flirting and occupied my hands as I grabbed my marker and fiddled with it, “I’m a drama major, Yunho.”

Yunho’s eyes widened for a small fraction, cheeks flushing, “Oh, that sounds lovely, I—sorry, I’m just taken aback that you know my name.”

I didn’t mean to glare at him, but he was bad at playing the abashed and shy boy persona, perhaps a few acting courses wouldn’t do him bad, “You’re on the baseball team and I have gone to almost every game of yours, so I think it’s only natural I know everyone’s name on the team, no?” I didn’t let him answer me as I gave him a scrutinizing look, “Besides, you’re quite famous for breaking the hearts of the girls you go out with, right?”

Now, I could tell he was actually flustered as he averted his eyes, biting his bottom lip as the flush from his cheeks spread to his ears too. Yunho’s dark hair was messy and wavy, and he wore his glasses now. The black turtleneck made him look comfy and safe, his dark jeans complementing his long legs nicely.

“Ah, those are just rumours, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” He rubbed his nape and looked back at me, “I’m sorry, I never caught your name.”

I sighed and thought about whether I should tell him, but it was only right since I knew his name and didn’t want to look like a prick, “It’s Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He grinned widely and extended his hand to shake, “I’m Yunho, but you know that already.”

I hummed and took his hand, a little surprised by how long his fingers were and how much bigger his palm was, it made me blush as I carefully pulled my hand out of his, busying myself with my marker, “So, what are you doing here? It’s a bit weird seeing a sports major here, you know.”

Yunho groaned and I glanced at him to see him rubbing his forehead, “Don’t even tell me about it, it’s completely against my will, if I’m being honest. Not that I hate the theatre or anything, but I’d be much rather doing something else.”

“Well, you can just get up and walk out before the professor comes, you know,” I suggested, nodding my head towards the exit, but Yunho had a solemn look on his face. He let his hands fall in his lap as he intertwined his fingers.

“Actually, I can’t.” He pouted, and I tried not to think of him as a manchild, it wasn’t very appealing, “You see, I might have done something that was against the rules, and this is basically my punishment if I don’t want to lose my scholarship, or worse, get kicked out. I mean, my career would be ruined before I even had the chance to start it, you know?”

I nodded, pretty much on board with what he was saying, “Yeah, that makes sense. Well, it sucks but I still don’t understand why drama class out of all classes they could’ve punished you with.”

“Ugh, right?! Don’t even get me started on it,” Yunho rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses as he licked his lips, turning his body to face mine, “Like, the principal is totally crazy for placing me in this class! I don’t know why she thought a little play-pretending would fix my attitude—her words, not mine—but it certainly won’t. Like, whatever I did wasn’t even that serious, it’s the fact that the stupid professor can’t take a joke, I didn’t even sleep with his daughter!”

So, this is who the real Jeong Yunho was, unfiltered, and apparently, not as perfect and charming as everyone thought him to be. I chuckled, amused that he’d have to suffer through our drama classes because I knew the outsiders always viewed us as crazy whenever they stumbled through the doors of the theatre, “And how long until your punishment is over?”

“This whole semester, can you believe it?” Yunho sounded annoyed, but his face remained void of any annoyance as he slumped in his chair, looking defeated, “I swear to God, the principal was high on some shit when she threatened to throw me out if I didn’t heed her orders. It’s like—I know she’s my mother but we’re at school, for fuck’s sake! Like—this is university, she can’t punish me like I’m some sort of five-year-old, no?!”

I covered my mouth to try and hide my amusement at his outburst, which got other students chuckling. I meant to answer him, but a rather loud scoff coming from the first row caught everyone’s attention as suddenly they stood, whirling around, hands on their hips. My amusement died down as my eyes widened, staring at Mrs. Jeong in surprise, I didn’t know she was there, I thought she was running late.

“Oh, really, young man?” Her sharp eyes narrowed, and I watched from the corner of my eyes as Yunho’s own widened, mouth falling open, “You think you’re here because I believed whatever that professor accused you of? No, you’re here because you promised me you’d stop fooling around, yet here we are!”

“Mom?” Yunho seemed pale as Mrs. Jeong glared him down, he turned to me with a desperate look on his face, “What’s she doing here?!”

He whisper-shouted as Mrs. Jeong scoffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. I felt a bit awkward and put on the spot as I nodded in acknowledgement at her, then faced her son, “Mrs. Jeong is the head of our department.”

Yunho’s eyes widened comically and I chuckled as I bit my lower lip, “Uhm, did you not know that your mother is the head of the drama club and department?”

“No!” Yunho whisper-shouted and eyed his mother, who had started to grin in contentment. I could see the resemblance in the two as I looked between the mother and son, their smiles were the same and their cheeks were puffy and almost always rosy. Mrs. Jeong was a lovely and compassionate woman, it sometimes made me wonder why Yunho had such little respect for women when his mother must’ve raised him right.

“If you’re done parading yourself, son, I’d like to start my class, thank you very much.” Mrs. Jeong raised her eyebrows and Yunho grumbled something under his breath as he slipped lower in his chair.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jeong.” He avoided eye contact with his mother and Mrs. Jeong smiled in victory, eyes taking in the place as she counted how many there were of us. I smiled at her when her eyes fell on me and she returned it, clapping her hands once she was done.

“Good, I see more of you joined us—I didn’t count my son in—I hope you’re all ready to rehearse for the play before the auditions, and I’m more than eager to help you all out. Today, I’d like to highlight some of the culminant points of the play and discuss the acting techniques they should be delivered with.” Mrs. Jeong intertwined her hands behind her back and nodded before she went to grab her own copy of the play. Yunho looked helpless as he glanced around the room, sighing long as he peered down at my lap over my shoulder.

“Uh, can you share yours with me?” He grumbled, not so smiley anymore, “I didn’t know what we’d be doing today, I’ll bring my play for the next class.”

“Just this once,” I said with a pointed look and put my copy of the play between us, “I don’t like to share and I like to sit alone, just so you know in the future.”

“All alone?” Yunho asked curiously, “Don’t you like sharing?”

“I like my peace of mind and quiet.” I answered, raising my eyebrows at him, “And I really like to be left alone, Yunho, so don’t try to distract me.”

“Okay,” He whispered as he flipped through the pages, making me give him a small glare, “I’ll be silent, but don’t expect me to survive this whole semester if you ignore me the whole time.”

“Go make friends, I’m sure the girls behind us are more than eager to sit with you,” I muttered with a roll of my eyes, and Yunho grinned as he leaned slightly closer.

“Is that a hint of jealousy—”

“Mr. Jeong,” Mrs. Jeong snapped and we both looked at her alarmed, she was frowning at her son, “Leave Miss Lee alone, yes? Or I’ll make sure to fail you in this class—���

“But mom!” Yunho whined, sitting up straight as he leaned forward, “You can’t do that, I’m not even registered for this class!”

“Really?” Mrs. Jeong chuckled, “Aren’t you?”

“You did not.”

“Oh, trust me, I did.”

Yunho’s mouth fell open in shock, and I had to turn my head to hide my silent laugh as Yunho turned into a whining manchild once again, “You will behave in my class, young man, and you’ll let Miss Lee be, understood?”

“Understood, Mrs. Jeong.” Yunho grumbled under his breath and looked down, a grimace on his face as he muttered something to himself, “I can’t even skip class now, for fuck’s sake.”

A laugh slipped through as I gave Yunho another amused smile and then grabbed my marker, way too amused by how things were turning out to be. Yunho didn’t look too amused but Mrs. Jeong did, and she spoke up with a smile on her face, asking us to flip to the thirteenth page of our play.

I could only hope Jeong Yunho, the Casanova, wouldn’t ruin one of my favourite classes for me.

❱❱ Next act

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[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. IX

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cw- mention of death

finally a longer one!

Eight full days passed without trouble. Daenys and Cregan slept close together each night, pointedly avoiding talking about it each morning. Though, it was clear to be a great comfort for both of them. Daenys found herself having seven more dreamless nights, grateful for each one, though slightly wishing she could be blessed with the type of dreams that others had every night. Even Cregan, who smiled sometimes in his sleep, seemed to have pleasant dreams.

They were only one more night away from The Wall. Then, they would reach it by the morrow's noon.

Daenys had taken well to hunting, setting near-expert traps and even making it something of a competition. Without needing words, they would both hold up their catches of the day, either laughing gleefully or scowling when they won or lost. All in good fun, they agreed.

Dusk had even taken to sleeping with Morningstar each night, instead of at the human's feet. The dragon had not made her displeasure known, so her tolerance said everything for her. The wolf was comically tiny against the massive wing, quite like a mother and her pup. Though, perhaps Dusk didn't get that idea. His infatuation with the dragon appeared to be some sort of puppy love.

Cregan had pointed that out days prior, snorting at his companion's simpering behavior. "He follows that dragon like a green boy follows a pretty whor-" He paused, stopping himself. "follows a courtesan." He coughed into his hand, cheeks pink at his own borish vocabulary.

Daenys rolled her eyes, snickering at his expression. "I am not so green myself, my Lord. I can handle a few less-than-kind words."

His eyes widened, turning to her on Red. "Do you mean...?"

She understood immediately, flushing pink herself now. "Heavens, no! I only mean I grew up with my vulgar uncles. They have never bothered to filter their words or bring their 'lady-friends' into the Red Keep. I can not do such things until I am wed, I understand by duties." Daenys informed him, slightly embarrassed that she called herself experienced when she was not.

"I would not fault you if you did. After all, a lord could sire a thousand bastard babes, before or after marriage, and not be reprimanded." He said.

That was true. Rhaenyra was forced into marriage immediately after her 'nightly activities' with Daemon were discovered. Aegon was actively still participating in such activities after his marriage but received turned heads and blind eyes.

"That is a truth I have come to resent." She huffed. "There are many of us—silver-haired—out on the streets of King's Landing. It is a great shame that mine own kin is suffering on the streets instead of in the Keep where they belong."

Many times, she thought of how unfair their circumstances were compared to hers. They shared their bastard blood, but only she and her brothers got the privilege of being legitimized and defended whilst the others starved and suffered.

He smiled sweetly at her, perhaps in understanding of her underlying words. "I can sympathize with that sentiment. My father was an honorable man until his death. His one sin was fathering my half-sister, though I do not resent Sara for it. It is a shame how only the children suffer for the parents' actions. I watched how she was treated her whole life compared to me, simply for having a different mother."

She hummed her agreement. For a moment, she slightly wished that her mother shared his opinion.

"I loved my father dearly. But, I would never repeat his actions. My wife's honor is as sacred as mine, to father a child that was not hers would be unforgivable."

"Your wife will be a lucky woman."

He eyed her, amused. "If you call that lucky, then I suppose so. I would call it being a husband."

"Most men do not take that so seriously. A wife is seen as the one who simply provides heirs and a dowry, and whores and paramours are the true lovers." She shrugged.

"Is that how Prince Daemon sees Queen Rhaenyra?" He asked, catching her off guard.

"No...he is perhaps the only one of her husbands to have no lover after they married. Their marriage is a special case, I believe. He has only wanted her for many years, even through his previous two marriages. Loyal, yes, but no less a greedy man."

Daenys didn't care for her mother's and Daemon's strange history. She would not personally wish to marry a man twice her age, but her mother loved him, so she tolerated it. She did grow to like Daemon, too, after a few years of living with him.

Cregan nodded beside her, taking in her words. "Ser Laenor was different?"

"I'm sure you've heard of my father's preferences from the gossip surrounding the court."

"I've told you before, my Lady, that those in the North do not care for menial gossip." He reminded her.

Daenys nodded, exhaling deeply. "He loved my mother, though not as Daemon does." Or Harwin did, she left out. "But he could not change his affinity for his...squire." She finished, glancing at his facial expression only to see it unchanged.

"What of Ser Harwin?" The question made her nervous, though she refused to show it. His question was merely curious, not accusing or backhanded. "Your mother's sworn protector must have been around quite a lot, in your young years. What was he like?"

"Ser Harwin was a kind man. Kinder than any other knights at the Keep. He was Lord Commander of the kingsguard, though he never acted untoward or mean, not even once. He watched over me, in a time when many of the young kids in the keep had started to act as my scourages." She smiled in reminisce. "You remind me of him, slightly."

"How so?"

"A protector. A pillar of strength against harsh winds."

Cregan chuckled, though not unkindly. "I am glad you are able to see me that way, Princess. Perhaps you are a poet, not a sailor."

She laughed, loud and clearly. "If only you could see me at my septa's lessons, you would change your mind in a heartbeat. I jumbled the words so badly that two—two!—septas gave up trying to teach me to sing and recite poetry and music."

Cregan grinned at the sound, pleased to hear her laugh. "That can't be so, I've heard you humming little songs in High Valyrion when you are with Morningstar."

Bashful, she asked. "You heard that?"

"Most times, yes." He said. "Though I enjoyed it. I can't understand the words, but I can piece together that no words were stumbled over."

"Mm. Perhaps it is my audience, then. In front of my septas, their stares were so intense that I nearly cried when practicing in front of them. My dragon does not judge as they do, she sings along."

"I hope to be a well-mannered audience for you." He said, tone raillery and light.

Daenys didn't mind if he heard.

Night came fast, as it seemed to for the past days. Their routine came automatically: setting the tent, cooking kills over the fire, eating, conversing, and then finally heading to bed. They found their routine with changing into night shifts, as well. Simply turning as they changed at the same time instead of waiting their turns outside of the tent. Cregan and Daenys settled closely, breaths steady and visible in the night air.

It had grown jarringly cold. Daenys believed it was cold in Winterfell, but near The Wall was another story. She pitied those who lived at The Wall and the wildlings who were trapped beyond it.

Her streak of dreamless sleep was broken that night. She could barely see, but she could hear. She wished desperately that she couldn't, that she could forget the sounds that tormented her.

Sawing.

Slow, squelching, sawing.

She was in the Red Keep. The torches in the nursery were dim. So dim, that faces were impossible to clearly make out. But she could recognize Helena anywhere. Her sweet, sisterly Aunt Helena, who had never hurt a soul in her life, was pleading for two men to take her jewlery, take her, instead of her babe.

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, if she remembered correctly. She had met them once, at the family dinner the night before Viserys died. Helena showed them proudly to her niece, though her youthful face reminded Daenys of just how young she was when she was forced to have the twins. The thought made her feel ill, but she smiled and greeted the shy children anyway.

The men refused to take Helena, insisted they needed a boy to die. They forced the sweet mother to point out her son, to which she did with a pained and stunned look on her face. Daenys wanted to reach out, comfort her aunt, and protect her babes with her. But her feet remained glued to the floor, unable to be seen or heard by anyone in the room. It was not happening at that moment. Would it truly happen soon? It was war. Dirty tactics were used all the time without remourse. Surely they were not sent by Rhaenyra...right? She would never seek babes to be harmed, especially after Visenya was lost days ago. This must be a false dream. Daenys only needed to wait it out.

Sawing.

Sawing, squelching, thrashing. It felt like it went on forever.

Until it stopped. Daenys blinked her eyes open, glancing at the bed. Jaehaerys' head was gone from his body. Jaehaera was missing from her bed. Helena was gone. Daenys found herself running, finally able to move now from her planted spot. She ran out of the nursery as if the two men would chase her, too. She followed after Helena, who abruptly stopped at the bottom of the steps. She turned around, revealing her purple tear-filled eyes and Jaehaera clutched protectively in her arms. Helena looked Daenys right in her eyes.

"Stop him." She whispered as if she could see Daenys standing in the middle of the steps plain as day. She continued running, perhaps to guards, leaving Daenys stunned at her spot.

Daenys was awoken after that. No one had ever seen her during her dreams. Not Laena, not Luke, nor Harwin or Laenor. Helena had similar dreams, she knew. Waking dreams, mumbling to herself while she was wide awake. Helena and her always shared that, though never spoke on it. Daenys was torn. Would that become true? Would Helena's son truly be murdered in his bed?

She could not think on it alone anymore. She needed a distraction. Her first thought was to seek out Morningstar, to curl up under her warmth, and stay there until the visions stopped plaguing her mind ruthlessly. She didn't have her books to draw in or her journals to write in. She couldn't let out her thoughts any way but speaking.

"Cregan..." She whispered, leaning up on her elbow and facing the man. He looked to be having a happy dream, smiling slightly in his sleep.

"Cregan, please. I need you." She whimpered, cold tears falling onto his face as she leaned over him. She could feel guilty later, but for now, she needed him desperately.

He flinched unconsciously at the wetness falling onto his face, wiping it and blinking himself awake. His eyes finally met her tear-filled lilac ones, sitting up instantly. He held her shoulders gingerly, "what's the matter, sweet girl? Are you hurt?" He scanned her, wide awake now at the chance of a threat around. He found no blood, only her own crescented nail prints in her palms from them behind clenched so harshly in her sleep. He took her hands in his own, soothing over them while he waited for her response.

Daenys' chest heaved raggedly, trying to catch her own breath from her panic. He reached out, pulling her by her head to his chest, allowing her to clutch his shirt instead of her own palms and hair to ground herself.

He calmed slightly, figuring the distress was caused by her dreams instead of a physical threat. Recalling her Valyrion lullabies that she hummed to her dragon, Cregan mindlessly hummed into her ear, chest vibrating with the use of his vocals. He never hummed or sang, didn't care for it, and was never taught it. But, he would try anything to pacify Daenys' storming mind.

Eventually, after many sobs and mumbles that Cregan couldn't make out, Daenys stilled in his arms.

"He will die. I don't know who I have to stop, Cregan."

He looked down at her head, face still buried and half-mumbled by his neck. "Who will die?"

"My cousin. Helena's babe, Jaehaerys." She whispered, mind reeling still.

Cregan bit his cheek harshly. It would happen, at an unknown time to the both of them. Sometime in the future, or perhaps as they spoke now. He didn't doubt her vision for a moment.

"What do you mean by stop him, sweeting? He asked, rubbing small shapes onto her back.

"Helena told me so. She saw me. Actually saw me. No one ever has before. She held Jaehaera as she told me to 'stop him'." Daenys insisted almost hysterically.

He nodded, allowing her to mumble some more incoherently into his skin.

Stop who? How could she prevent a murder in King's Landing all the way in the North? Even on Dragonstone, she was too far away to help Helena. She could not fly her dragon to Helena to warn her, lest she be shot down by a scorpion's lance. She could not send a raven, either, knowing it would be intercepted, and Daenys would be accused of plotting to murder the heir.

Who was it? Who could she access? Helena knew, she would not ask it of her if she knew Daenys couldn't do it. Luke and Jace would be back at Dragonstone by now, and had no ill intent towards anyone. Rhaenyra and Daemon would be too focused on their council meetings. What grievance did any of them have to go after Jaehaerys? She could not think of any.

"Who is it?" She asked Cregan, then. "Who could order a babe to die in his bed?"

"I do not know, Princess. I'm sorry." He said painfully, wishing to help her more than anything at that moment.

They stayed like that until sunrise. Cregan and Daenys held each other. The only sound in the air was her mumblings and his comforting shushing and hums. He knew they could not waste time, The Lord Commander at Castle Black had long been expecting them.

He guided an exhausted Daenys to his own horse, not trusting her to be able to stay on Mylo. She sat behind him, head slumped to his shoulders as they rode on for the final few hours towards the castle. Mylo loyally walked behind, knowing his faithful food source could only come from the Lord in front of him.

As they reached the gates of Castle Black, Daenys found herself waking up in awe. The Wall, rumored to reach the skies, truly was taller than anything she had ever seen before. Seven hundred feet of pure ice lay in front of her, an impenetrable fortress that protected all that lie South of it.

Cregan chuckled at her gaping reaction. "I felt the same way when I saw The Wall for the first time, too. It is an even better view on top, my Lady." He assured her, glad to see her distracted from her perturbed mood.

She nodded, shifting in the saddle impaitiently. She hands were wrapped around his waist, though didn't quite meet in the middle. He patted her hand as they waited for the gate to open, reminding her to be patient.

As Cregan hopped off, he helped Daenys from Red, staying close to her as a stable boy led both horses to be fed and watered. "My Lord Stark." Bowed a young man, who seemed familiar with Cregan. "We are glad to see you here. Would you like for yourself and the Princess to be shown to the dining hall for a hot meal?" He nodded politely towards Daenys, bowing swiftly once more at her.

Cregan took her hand in his arm, eyeing the men who had gathered around, leaning to each other and grinning wolfishly at the sight of a pretty young woman at Castle Black. The only women they ever saw were the ones in the small town near The Wall, which only had a few women who sold their services to the many men of the Night's Watch, and none were as pretty as noblewomen were bred to be. Cregan knew this all too well, hungry eyes watching the Princess like she were prey. Daenys shifted uncomfortably, aware of the intense gazes, though in a different way than Cregan.

"Is Lord Commander Trant not here?" Cregan asked.

The young man shook his head. "He's been conducting business at Queen's Gate for the past few days. He'll be back shortly, he promised to return before the afternoon."

Cregan nodded, a tick in his jaw. "The Princess and I will be on top of The Wall, while we wait. Do not disturb us." He commanded, striding towards the crickity little iron cage that was embedding into the ice. Daenys paused, reluctant to step into the death trap.

"This will take us all the way up to the top?"

He smiled, guiding her gently by the small of her back to step inside. "Don't worry, it is used every day and hasn't failed the Watch yet." Daenys flinched as it whirred to life, bringing them up foot by foot. She watched the ground grow distance below her, usually an exciting sight on her dragon, but now a terrifying one. She held tight to his arm as if he could save them both if the contraption failed.

It took a few minutes to reach the top. Cregan stepped out first, allowing her to jump out swiftly. She sighed, glad to be on solid ground. If it could be counted as such. Though The Wall was pure ice, Daenys was pleasantly surprised at it not being slippery. Perhaps due to the soft layer of snoe on top of it for her boots to grip.

Cregan brought her to the edge of The Wall, many in the Watch bowing and gawking at the sight of the pair. All knew of the Princess' expected visit, but had not prepared for the sight of a Targaryen in their lifetime.

The sight on the edge was truly otherworldly. Miles of expansive snowy forests and deserts, all unclaimed by man or beast.

"It is more beautiful than you said, Cregan." She said, eyes glued to the view.

"It is." He smiled, though seemed to tense slightly when she turned to him. "Daenys. I promised you that we would speak of the number of bannermen I would send for the Queen. I have had plenty time to think it through on our journey over here. As of now, I have 2,000 greybeards ready to die for their Queen's war."

Daenys nodded, listening to him intently. "Greybeards, like old men?" She asked half-humorously.

He nodded. "Winter is coming, and I can not freely give a large portion of my young men without something in return."

"Return?" She asked, growing nervous. He had not mentioned such a thing in their entire time together.

"Do you like Winterfell, your highness?" Cregan asked, brows furrowed as he looked down at her.

"Of course–I have grown to love the North."

"Would you..." he trailed off, hesitating slightly. "Would you be willing to live in the North?"

"As in...a marriage offer?" Daenys asked.

"Indeed. If I could have your hand, Daenys, in marriage, the North would have a dragon and a Princess. They would be more willing to fight in a Southern war if their own Wardeness was who they fought for."

Daenys stood there, stunned. Had he brought her all the way to The Wall just to ask for her? Is that why he had been so warm to her, so friendly? Her face hardened, though that did not go unnoticed by Cregan.

"Daenys, please hear me out." The man pleaded, clutching both of her hands in his own and bringing them up to her chest.

"I would not ask something of you that would displease you. I wish to keep you safe. And if, after the war, you wish to never see me again, I will allow you to live at Dragonstone or the Red Keep with your family. I will never force anything on you, never ask for sons. All I want is you. I have wanted for you for a while now. Please do not mistake my genuine feelings for using you. Know that the last thing in this world that I want to see is your unhappiness." He spoke breathlessly.

"I love you, my sweet dreamer. It would truly kill me to see you at the mercy of some old and cruel Lord, who would keep you from happiness. If that makes me a selfish man, then so be it. But at least I am an honest one."

Daenys felt her chest swell with an unknown emotion, throat tight, and eyes glossing with tears. "Love me? How could you love me after all that you have seen from me, Cregan?" She whispered, voice taut with emotion.

He took her face into his hands, wiping away at her eyeline to ensure no tears fell from them. He kissed the spot between her brows with the utmost reverence, pulling away but not moving his hands. "How could I not? All I have seen, I adore. Do not simplify your entire being to your dreams–that is merely one part of you." He interrupted her, knowing exactly what she could argue against.

"Cregan..." she felt the warmth in his mismatching eyes fill her body with a soft heat, though they were surrounded by the winds so high up she barely even felt it.

Before she could finish, an older man came marching towards them.

"Lord Commander," the Stark greeted, though his irritation wasn't hidden. "I asked to be left alone until we returned."

"Forgive me, Lord Stark, Princess." The man bowed his head twice in turn. "There has been a letter awaiting the Princess since you left Winterfell. It is dire."

Daenys' eyes widened, it must be from Rhaenyra. Was there an update on the war? Cregan took the scroll in his hands, unrolling it slowly. She watched as his face dropped before looking to Daenys with a sympathetic gleam in his eyes.

"What?" Her voice wavered. "What has happened?" She didn't want to know. She wanted to stay oblivious in the North forever, keeping time paused back at home.

The Lord Commander shifted his gaze down sadly, respectfully taking his leave to the rickity lift so the two could talk.

Cregan placed a hand on her bicep in a comforting way, but she shook her head, urging him on. "Tell me."

"Its about your brother, Lucerys." He said softly.

"Luke? What of him?" She already had her suspicion. She saw him that night, the night she stayed at Winterfell. Daenys was forced to watch the boy and his young dragon being chased through stormy skies by a much bigger, looming beast.

She saw him, and continued treating with Lord Stark. Daenys left her brother to the wolves—or more accurately the dragon. All for a few thousand men to fight in a useless, stupid war. For what? What is the use of sitting atop of the Iron Throne if all of your children will be dead. Is that mot Rhaenyra's legacy? Is Jacaerys next? Little, sweet Joff and the babes Viserys and Aegon? Is she next?

"He is dead. Aemond Targaryen killed him with Vhagar."

No.

He was not dead. Lucerys was playing a prank on her. This time, he just took it too far. He loved his pranks, especially on his eldest sister, who was so easy to fool.

Lucerys was alive and waiting for her shocked face to burst through Dragonstone's doors.

"He's not dead." She shook her head, stepping back from Cregan. "Luke is fine. That letter must be his idea of a jest, 'tis all." She nodded to herself, solidifying her own words.

"Daenys—"

"I will marry you upon my return to Winterfell, whenever the Queen allows me time. You can send a raven to Dragonstone with how many extra men my hand will bring her. Farewell, Lord Stark." She bid him, focusing on making her way to the lift. She entered it, being sent up just in time for her to be allowed down.

"Daenys!" He yelled, tugging her arm roughly to his chest. Cregan loosened his grip apologetically, but did not allow her out of his reach.

She faced him, face scrunched up in a furious glare. "Let go of me. It is treasonous to lay a hand on your Princess." She bit harshly.

Cregan pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms firmly around her back and head, resting her head on his shoulder gently. "Don't go like this, Princess. It is dangerous to fly in such a state." He murmured into her hair, feeling her tense form shiver.

"What do you know of flying? Morningstar will get me to Dragonstone swiftly, she is the fastest of our dragons—" Daenys was cut off by her own sobs wracking her body violently.

If it were Morningstar sent to Storm's End, she could've outflown Vhagar. Little Arrax, with all his youthful pride, was the smallest yet of the three eldest children's dragons. He just barely started to be able to fly with Luke on his back. It had barely been a year since he'd grown big enough. They were both but mere babes in comparison to Vhagar and Aemond.

"It's not fair!" She yelled into his pelts. She could barely breathe, knees weak and unable to hold herself up. Cregan lowered them both to the floor, keeping her securely in his lap. "My boy, he's only a child. He should've stayed home, I should've kept him safe." She nearly screamed at herself. Her stupidity and foolishness.

How dare the Gods show her Luke's death but not Laenor's. How could they hate her so much? Hate her family? Did the gods hate bastards as much as their creations?

"It's not fair, I know. But you couldn't have done anything, my Lady." He cooed softly in her ear.

"I could, I have known for weeks and done nothing! Lived in obliviousness while my brother has been lost to the sea."

Living like a common whore, allowing herself to sleep next to a man that she was not married to. Allowing him to see her bare, and not being nearly as modest as a Lady should be. Alicent was right, she was always right. She was just like her mother. If she had stayed with Cregan in the wilderness for any longer, would she have allowed him to bed her, too? Would she father his bastard and be forced to cover it with a false marriage?

Daenys needed to leave.

But her legs did not obey her still.

Cregan gave her a pitying glance, one that she could not see in her own wallowing. Nothing he could say could truly get through to her. No one could comfort him for weeks after his own little brother passed. The guilt never leaves.

"Come, Princess. I will not send you off without first making sure you have food in your belly and warmer pelts around you." Cregan told her, but did not make her walk. Instead, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the dining hall, which he demanded be cleared for her privacy. She was despondent the whole time, silent and unmoving. It was only the Lord and Lady in the room, besides a young serving boy.

Daenys glanced up at him, finding kind brown eyes staring at her as the boy dropped stew in front of her. "M'sorry for your loss, M'Lady." He bowed his head low, brown curls shifting at the movement. Why was a boy jis age serving The Wall? Orphaned, most likely, or sold by his parents. She didn't know which fate was worse.

What she did know was that the boy was nearly a spitting image of Lucerys. She hung her head again, unable to look at the young boy. Cregan thanked him quietly, sending him on his way. Their stews began to grow cold in the silence, the both of them still as statues.

"You must eat, Daenys." Cregan urged.

"I will only throw it back up, I cannot stomach anything right now."

"Try, my Lady. Just a few bites. Half."

Sluggishly, she picked up the spoon and took slow bites. Chewing felt like it took ages, and swallowing was nearly painful. Her head spun, feelng nausea rising in her. Once she got through half, Cregan looked satisfied. Daenys stood, and he mirrored her action.

She led him to the iron gate, waiting for it to open. Outside of it, Morningstar was already crouched to allow her to leave. Cregan took off his brown pelts that she had been using as blankets for the past nights, pulling them snug over her shoulders.

"I already have a cloak on." She said tiredly, though did not fight his action.

"For my assurance, 'tis all." He said, fastening the direwolf clip around it. "Your flight home will be much colder than the one you took to Winterfell."

He paused a moment, clutching her hand in his. He placed a gentle kiss on her cold knuckles, lingering a moment longer. "I will send four thousand of my young soldiers to your mother's cause. That will be six thousand Northerners to fight for the Blacks. Return to me safely, Princess. That's all I ask of you."

They were officially bethrothed. Daenys wished it was under better circumstances, but this is the card she was dealt. Daenys nodded, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Then she left.

Daenys stopped after a few minutes of flying, throwing up what little she ate into a thorned bush. One snagged on her cheek as she stood up straight, coughing slightly. How very like her to enjoy a meal while her family was waiting anxiously for her return. Daenys mounted Morningstar again, not looking back at The Wall before taking flight again. This time, she would not stop until she was home.

🗡

She could see King's Landing in the distance and had half a mind to burn it all down. Morningstar could easily do so. Even the small folk, along with all the peasant bastards that shared blood with her, would burn. She wouldn't care. As long as Aemond Targaryen would be dead at her feet, she would do it. Perhaps they all deserved it. Sin was the only thing able to survive and breed in King's Landing.

Morningstar was exhausted by the time they landed on the dragonpit's perch. Meleys and Caraxes were already in the pit, roaring to greet their kin excitedly. They, too, were being fed after clearly long flights. Patrols, she guessed. "Feed her." She demanded the Dragonkeepers as she passed them, who were too stunned at her sudden appearance to even bow or greet their Princess.

Daenys charged into the Painted Table room, seeing it lit with a bright orange glow as multiple men surrounded it. Rhaenyra wasn't there. Why where they holding a Queen's council without the Queen? Daemon was at the head, just as he had been when Rhaenyra was screaming in her chambers whilst giving birth to his daughter.

There was no one to announce Daenys. No one had expected her that evening, especially with no warning. There was no time for it, either, as Rhaenyra was announced by a guard. Daenys quickly moved aside when he spoke, shifting next to Jace, who squeezed her hand at the sight of her puffy face. She could not look him in the eye, nor Daemon, who kept his keen eye on her until Rhaenyra entered.

The Queen strided in, meeting Daemon in the middle. He whispered something to her, earning a solemn nod. Rhaenyra continued past him to the head of her table.

"Your council stands at the ready, Your Grace." Daemon bellowed for all to hear him clearly. Daenys only paid mind to her mother's dreadful state. Unkempt hair, ash covered face, hands sandy and clutching at some piece of cloth that Daenys could not figure out. "I will fly to Harrenhall at your command. Set our toehold in the Riverlands."

"Your Grace, my Lord husband's blockade of the Gullet moves into place. All seaborne travel and trade to King's landing will soon be cut off."

The Queen did not respond to her aunt or husband. A great silence held the room until, "I want Aemond Targaryen." Was her command. She waited a mere moment, glancing at Daenys before leaving to her chambers to fix her state.

Daenys was led to her room by Jacerys, who insisted she get out of her heavy Northern attire now that she was in better temperatures. She cared little for the heat that the clothes engulfed her with now that they were quite useless on Dragonstone, but allowed her maids to change her anyway. She bathed, too, and had her hair done up more traditionally. She kept Cregan's personal furs on the wooden edge of her bed, carefully ensuring they were untouched.

Jacaerys waited outside the whole time, escorting her with an outstretched arm to their mother's chambers. "Are you okay, Dae?" He asked gently, as if she might crumble if he spoke in a normal tone.

She sniffed slightly, nodding. "I am fine. I will be well when Aemond is dead and burned."

The tone of her voice and her violent words shocked him, pausing his steps abruptly.

"Was...did something happen in the North? Besides the news?" He asked, dark brows knitting together.

"Nothing happened. Why do you ask?" She turned to him suspiciously, not wishing to share every detail of what happened. She did not wish to enlighten her family of her brutal killing. That would be between Daenys and Cregan until the day she died. And perhaps Rhaenyra, who might have the answers to her burning questions.

"I am merely concerned. Was he a borish man? I wish I could've gone to the North in your stead, sister. Lady Jeyne was kind enough, she would've liked you." Jace said, slowly meeting her steps once again.

"Lord Stark is not like the typical depiction of a northman. I handled him just fine." Was her vague answer. Truly, Daenys was happy to see her brother again. To be with her family again. But her joy was dulled by the missing presence in the halls. The one who was meant to greet her in the dragonpit. Jacaerys gave her a pitying look, opening Rhaenyra's chambers.

Their mother sat on a couch, meeting her children's eyes as they walked in and bowed. She looked more put together now that she received the same treatment as Daenys.

Rhaenyra stood, awaiting Daenys and Jacaerys to give their messages. Her chest heaved slightly, something that would have gone unnoticed by anyone but her children, who knew her too well. Jace started. "Lady Jeyne Arryn has pledged her support. In exchange for a dragon to guard the Vale." His voice shook. He had been home for two weeks, yet in Daemon's firm presence, he forced himself to be strong and hard. He had not seen his mother except for her quick visits to eat and feed Syrax.

Rhaenyra nodded encouragingly, eyes brimming red.

"Lord Cregan stark has pledged 2,000 greybeards to you. In exchange for my hand, he promises another 4,000 young men." Daenys stated firmly. She refused to waver even slightly. Even when she wished to be held in her mother's arms. She couldn't let herself be comforted by the woman who had lost her own child. Daenys was the one who must comfort her when her own husband was so useless at it. His biggest flaw.

Rhaenyra and Jace looked shocked at the news. "You gave him your hand?" Jacaerys asked, a worried look on his face. "But–"

"I gave Cregan Stark my hand in exchange for 4,000 men. It is a fair trade, Jacaerys." She told him, holding no grudge or sorrow for it. She didn't wish for her family to, either. "He is an honest man. He will send every last one to fight for you, my Queen."

"That is not his concern. The Starks keep their oaths, yes. But are you happy with the arrangement, my sweet girl?" Rhaenyra asked, cupping Daenys' cheeks in the way that always made Daenys melt. She didn't trust her voice, so she simply nodded. Rhaenyra took Jace and Daenys into her arms. She could feel the quiet sobs deep in their chest, both seeking comfort in the reunion. Daenys held them tightly, afraid to let go. She had her time to cry, in Cregan's arms, now it was her time to finally make herself useful.

The Targaryens and Velayrons stood outside on a tall hill of Dragonstone's rocky beaches. Rhaenyra placed Lucerys' red tunic, the one she had found with Arrax's wing, onto the pyre's stand, reluctantly stepping back once she did. Jacaerys, holding little Joff, placed one of Luke's blankets onto the pyre. Joffrey, who didn't quite understand the funeral and its meaning, tossed a wooden horse that Luke handed down to him into the pyre.

Daenys stepped up, glancing at Rhaena across the fire's glow, seeing her struggle to keep her composure. She mourned for their broken betrothal along with her cousin, knowing they would have made a very happy couple. She clutched onto Luke's favorite tunic. The one she gave him for his three and tenth name day. Even when it grew tighter on him each month during his growthspurt, he still insisted he wore it. It had an embroidered three-headed dragon on it, in the colors of House Velayron. A testament to his future station as Lord of the Tides and a Targaryen. She stitched it for days, ensuring it was perfect for him. Daenys tossed it into the pyre, stepping beside Jace and watching the fire burn out. Most left after a respectable amount of time. Rhaenyra and Daenys stayed until the fire stopped entirely.

Her mother rubbed her back soothingly, allowing Daenys to rest her head on her shoulder. "Mother, I have so many things to ask you. A lot has happened in the North..." She muttered.

"Let us go inside. After you rest, I will dedicate my morning only to you." Rhaenyra promised, kissing the crown of Daenys' head affectionately. Daenys nodded, watching her mother walk back inside to retire for the evening.

A boat's movement caught her eye. Her squinted, lifting her skirts to walk slightly further down the hill. An intruder? No, they were leaving the beach. Daenys thought for a moment, there were very few on the island, and even less who had a reason to leave in secret. Unless...was it true? Were Daemon and Rhaenyra plotting to take Aemond's life in the dead of night?

No. Daenys gasped, sprinting towards the entrance doors of the castle. She needed her own way of transportation to King's Landing.

She was able to find a man who reluctantly took her on his small fishingboat. She doned a dark cloak that she was able to scrounge up in her hurry. Daenys tossed a bag of coins into his awaiting palm, not caring to count what was in it. The boat ride felt excruciatingly long, anticipation rising in her every minute. The thought of being caught made her scared, but the thought of Daemon getting to Jaehaerys before she did scared her worse.

Finally, the man stopped at a discreet sandy part of King's Landings' side wall. There was an extrance nearby, as well as another anchored fishing boat. Daenys scowled. How long had Daemon been there ahead of her? "Stay here." She called behind her, sprinting towards the open entrance in the wall while holding her hood over her silver hair.

There were no guards at it, unsurprisingly. They had all grown lazy under Aegon's leniency. She wandered the dark and damp streets unti she found an iron gate with a hooded figure waiting at it. A guard was walking away from the gate, small purse of coins clutched in his meaty fist.

"Daemon!" Daenys whisper-yelled, grabbing her step-father by his cloak and yanking him back. He barely stumbled but still had the audacity to look shocked and angry at her.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"You fool! You didn't kill Aemond. Do you think that lazy, drunken, craven could kill him?"

"I ordered him to kill Aemond, of course he will. If not, I'll find a way in myself." Daemon scoffed. Daenys grabbed his arms tightly, shaking her head. "You killed Jaehaerys. You killed a babe!" She yelled, uncaring of who would hear now. Perhaps it was both of their karma to die in King's Landing for attempting to kill Helena's son. Maybe if they were caught, they would catch the two men before they cold. Rhaenyra could find two more riders for their dragons, somewhere.

Daemon covered her mouth, pulling her to a less lit corner of the street before anyone could recognize them. "Are you mad, girl? You will get us both killed—" She punched him in the face, not staying to watch him clutch his nose before running back to her boat in a flurry of black and silver.

Daenys rode back to Dragonstone in a silent mourning. Jaehaerys would die. She knew it this time. She followed her dreams, finally. But still lost to fate. Or lost to Daemon. That coward, sending a guard to kill the kinslayer. He should be challenging Vhagar and the One-eyed Prince himself.

They could take him together. If only he trusted her to fight. Morningstar was large and battle-ready. Her and Caraxes would surely dominate the fight, a son for a son.

Not a child for a child.

Daenys slipped into her chambers, waiting for the news to wake the castle up. It wouldn't be long.

🗡

dont mind me using morningstar and dusk as parallels for cregan and daenys 😋

changing the times between Jace and Rhaenyra arriving. Let's say Rhaenyra was coming and going for two weeks, only coming back when she had to eat and let syrax eat. Jace came back the day the raven came to bring the news, and has been ruling with Daemon in her place. Just to say Rhaenyra and Daenys came back officially at the same time to continue the plot forward with no gaps.

[littlemisssatanist]

my acotar unpopular opinions

taking this time to come out as an acotar reader. yes i've read all the books and i've spent way too much time thinking about it. i enjoy the books in the sense that i enjoy hating on many of the characters and loving a few of the others.

be forewarned inner circle fans. you will not like this.

rhysand is not a 'morally grey' character. he's a rapist and a groomer. he sexually assaulted feyre utm, he groomed her (reminder that she was 19 in acotar), and he withheld important medical information from her. 'you'll always have a choice' my ass.

nesta telling feyre about her pregnancy was not a bad thing. why do people act like it is? 'oh she did it to hurt feyre' hurt her by doing what? revealing the lies that her beloved husband had woven? revealing the fact that she'd die giving birth? the fact that rhysand told literally everybody but feyre?

mor is not the champion for women everyone thinks she is. this i will give to sjm it is truly impressive to make a character like women and still be a pick me. i'm not even going to go into her whole weird ass relationship with her dad (i still don't understand why she wouldn't just kill him. 'oh rhys needed the army' rhys is supposed to be the most powerful high lord ever. either admit he's a fucking loser or give me an actual good reason for this) or the fact she's seemingly incapable of doing anything to help the women in the court of nightmares, but everytime she was mentioned, i had to let out a heavy sigh and rub my temples.

on a similar topic. i liked eris. like a lot. out of all the acotar characters sjm has written, eris is by far my favorite.

the inner circle needs to sit the fuck down. they are the most hypocritical bitches i've ever met. they like to think themselves high and mighty. reading them make fun of lucien's band of exiles while their name is literally 'court of dreamers' was the most infuriating thing ever. and then they have the gall to be insulted when called out. don't dish what you can't take.

out of all the inner circle, the only one i don't hate is azriel. this is simply because he is the only one who hasn't opened his big fat mouth and done something bad (except if you maybe count his whole thing with elain). cassian is on my hit list. it's on sight with cassian.

nessian is sjm's worst ship and i will stand by that. lucien/nesta could have been so much. 'nesta would have ripped lucien apart' and cassian was your first choice? not even azriel was considered? like be so for real right now. sjm didn't see the potential of lucien/nesta and i will forever mourn that.

sjm is a terrible writer. i'm not saying this to be mean but she seriously just sucks at it. that being said i admire her ability to still make millions of dollars off her shitty writing. as a woman, i am rooting for her. as a reader, every day i wake up a shoot a prayer to the heavens begging the gods to not let sjm write any more books from the inner circle's pov.

lucien/elain is better than azriel/elain. argue with the wall.

eris/azriel is better than azriel/elain. you can kiss my ass.

NESTA/ERIS IS BETTER THAN RHYSAND/FEYRE. i know this because i have been enlightened.

feyre is a victim to rhysand. that being said, she is also a major bitch. both can be true because these things are not mutually exclusive. i wish she could make friends outside of the ic like nesta did, but i know that's unlikely.

feyre's pregnancy storyline was completely useless and went against her whole character.

acomaf retconned everything about tamlin and feyre's relationship in order to make more money. idc.

tamlin gets a ridiculous amount of hate. rhysand is hypocritical. so tamlin locking feyre in a house because she wants to ride out with him into potential danger is terrible and abusive, but rhysand locking nesta in the house of wind for... *checks notes*... having sex and spending money on alcohol is helping her? what?

[stayinhellevator]

Tangents

"I had all and then most of you; some and now none of you."

Synopsis: Dreams turn into a nightmare when Wonwoo and you find each other too late.

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst disguised as Fluff, Soulmate AU

Word Count: 4241

Warnings: None

Playlist: The Night We Met ~ Lord Huron

Prev ┈    ⪩⪨      ┈ Masterlist

'Good things come to those who patiently wait', was something you had often heard; except they never did, especially for you, not even a single good thing.

You were a late bloomer for everything; the last one to get your periods, the last one to get a 'puberty glow up', the last one to be picked for the high school prom dance, the last one to receive your soul mark, the list was endless. Always the last.

You had gone so long without a soul mark that you were convinced you were a bondless until one day abruptly you felt a burning sensation on your wrist, even after surpassing the maximum age limit of receiving a soul mark. You remember being the happiest you've ever been in your life. You supposed it was fate's way of making it up to you. You were relieved that at least now you didn't have to wait to be picked up as the last resort.

Until you realised, you were in fact, not even your soulmate's last choice apparently.

You watched as your clients turned friends happily greeted the guests yet their eyes never seemed to linger too long anywhere that wasn't themselves and their hands seemed to find perch wherever possible on each other's bodies —seemingly around everyone yet apparently only having eyes for each other.

If six months back, someone told you that your acquaintance from college would one day contact your humble organisation to plan her dream wedding with her soulmate, you'd shrug with indifference. While Myra was a nice, compassionate woman, you never saw eye to eye on your outlook on life. She was too dreamy, often daydreaming about her ideal first meeting with her soulmate; while you were cynical, struggling to make ends meet, elaborating plans for your dream career.

You supposed, in the end, after all, you both managed to get what you worked hard for. She, her loving soulmate, and you, your own wedding planning company. Though, you were nowhere near your dreams, at least, you had begun somewhere.

Myra introduced you to her soulmate Seokmin and you remember being a bit jealous of them; they reminded you of your parents, loving and as real as possible. Whether you agreed or not, deep within, you wanted to have a partner like hers.

And your hopes skyrocketed when Seokmin noticed the soulmark in your inner wrist and off-handedly mentioned that his cousin's mark resembled yours; that he could introduce the two of you, if you want.

Jeon Wonwoo was his name, you learnt.

And with the drumming hope in your heart, you had agreed because of course you had. You couldn't be a coward and a dreamer simultaneously; you knew that for dreams to come true, you had to take risks.

And so, after a restless night of stalking Jeon Wonwoo's socials, you waited for him in the cafe that Myra sent you the location of. You waited and waited and waited.

But he never came.

After three humiliating hours of restlessly glancing at the door, every time it opened, you trudged out of the cafe, avoiding the pitiful looks of the servers, deciding to forever close the chapter titled 'Jeon Wonwoo' without even having written a single word; because that's what it was —an unfinished chapter in the story of your life.

The next week when Myra and Seokmin came to discuss the colour theme with you, the apology was loudly evident in his eyes before Seokmin could mouth it and you had shrugged him off.

Because it was neither his fault nor his story to explain.

And so here you were, watching the couple celebrate their dream wedding, at least as dreamy as you could make it, you hoped and watched from the sidelines, heart thrumming in blissful satisfaction. These are the little moments that make your life worth living, whatever of it is left at least.

A hard push at your side nearly disbalanced you bringing you out of your reverie. A bit angered and annoyed at the rude behaviour, you turned back to catch the culprit, only to be confused at seeing a familiar figure of a woman running past everyone at sight, straight down the exit, followed by a towering, sturdy man, who looked as dissheveled as a heartbroken boy who got rejected by his first love.

Except you recognised both of these figures as Seokmin's friend Mingyu and his soulmate. Mingyu often helped you around and also took on the responsibility of authority over decisions in the couple's absence. So you were quite familiar with him by now. If you hadn't known, you'd think he's single for the man knew he was charming and certainly used it if need be but you also knew he absolutely adored his mate so you weren't too worried.

Your friends often said that you were good for your own good but you'd contradict and say it was your nosiness and so, out of mere curiosity and concern, you were about to follow them, when the couple of the hour abruptly appeared in your vision.

"We couldn't be more grateful for you -you truly made my dream come true. Thank you so much for truly making our special day, special."

Myra's gentle voice, brimming with enthusiastic joy infected you and you found yourself distracted.

" I did what I could. This was all you guys. I'm so happy you liked it. Congratulations guys. Here's to forever."

You smiled at Seokmin's grinning visage over Myra's shoulder as the bride nearly shook with the overwhelming emotions took over her entirety. She gently squeezed your hands as if grounding herself after you broke the embrace.

"Did you—did he come to you? You know he's here too—I mean were you able to talk?"

While you had slowly come to adore the caring nature of your friend's fiance, the man really didn't know how to take a hint, he was down right oblivious, you didn't know how Myra handled him. He didn't know when to stop, he didn't know when to start, he didn't know his best friend was in love with him and everyone seemed to see it, even you. He didn't know a lot of things, just like he didn't know when to let go. You suppose that's his charm after all.

"Seokmin it's your wedding tonight and these should be the least of your worries. But since you asked, no, we haven't met or talked; nor am I expecting to. It's a done and dusted topic now."

You mustered a formal, dismissive smile at him, hoping you didn't sound too harsh because, though oblivious, the man had a heart of molten gold, and you didn't want to offend him or worse your friend, specially on a day like today's. But you did what you had to because you saw it in his eyes. Pity!

There was pity in his warm kind eyes and if one thing you hated the most in this world, it was pity. Just because you weren't meant for a 'normal life' like him, didn't mean you were a pitiful person.

You saw how Myra's hand squeezed Seokmin's bicep in warning as they shared a look—an understanding that was meant for no one but them, an intimacy you once wished for, with your own soulmate, immediately sending a pang of hurt in your heart for losing what you never even had.

"Well then we'll leave you be. But please eat something before taking your meds. You look really pale right now. I'm scared you've overworked yourself."

Myra's assessing eyes were filled with concern for your well-being and once she was sure that you'd give in to her request, she smiled at you before dragging Seokmin away.

The reminder of your soulmate's presence under the same roof as you, opened a few too many wounds within you, that never quite really healed, a constant scar reminiscent of what was meant to be yours but would never be yours; a harsh reality check that though a part of the same world, you were not cut out for a normal life; that your soulmate was probably happy with another in this very same life that you two were supposed to share together.

You looked down at the still full plate in your lap, feeling a bout of nausea building up in your stomach. Was it another one of those symptoms or the anxiety that was slowly starting to consume you, you didn't know but you were sure that the delicious food on your plate was too much to even look at.

So you regretfully put the almost untouched plate on the counter, evading the curious eyes of the people around you and straight away escaped to the farther most balcony, hoping no one would find you there.

As much as the night was peaceful, it was empty; a certain hollowness that couldn't be lightened up even by the twinkling stars, much like your own life. No matter how many people loved you, how many achievements you had up your name, how many memories you had managed to conjure up till now, your life lacked lustre.

There's so much to do and very little time left; at the same time, you couldn't wait for this countdown to be over.

A trickling sensation down your nose made you internally groan with exasperation. God! You were a mess, literally and figuratively.

Before you could take out a handkerchief of your clutch, a hand miraculously appeared in your line of vision with one.

So not only did someone see you being a miserable, lonely mess but also witnessed an embarrassing moment of curse that your illness left upon you.

Great! One more person who's going to pity you tonight.

Your eyes traced the veiny muscular arm, in order to offer gratitude, only to have your breath knocked right off your chest.

No, it couldn't be. Your eyes must've been deceiving you.

But even rapid blinking couldn't change the vision that materialised in front of you.

"Wonwoo!"

Your own hoarse desperate whisper of his name embarrassed you because why were you so needy of a man who ran away like a coward? You swear you had planned to ignore Wonwoo if need be but the sudden warmth in your chest at just being acknowledged by him faltered all your elaborate plans. Though, if this warmth was more out of fury at being abandoned without reason or relief of at least getting one good look at your soulmate before your time was up, was a question you didn't know the answer to.

"Hey ..."

His own unsure whisper of your name was so silent that you almost couldn't hear it but it was as if your senses had acquired a new affinity just for him.

Taking a deep breath, you accepted the handkerchief from him and wiped the blood off your nose, avoiding his concerned gaze bb

Why did he care now? Why was he even here? Did Seokmin send him?

Why now?

It was awkward between the two of you because of course it was. You both didn't have anything to say, how could you, after all, at the end of the day, you were nothing but strangers. Tied in the tangles of your anxiety, you observed his fiddling bony fingers as he fought his own.

"Do you..think we can, maybe, talk... somewhere private? Only if you're comfortable.. I don't want to impose."

And just for that, purely out of spite, you wanted to refuse, so that you could see the hope within him slowly die out just as you witnessed yours but his nervous fumbling paired with his otherwise stoic confident face practically sweating buckets made you pause.

How were you to resist him when you're so selfish to make every little moment with him count as much as you can?

And so you nodded and let him guide you out of the hall and down to the nearly empty cafeteria of the hotel. It was almost ironic how you were waiting for Wonwoo just like this at that cafe just a few months back. And now here you two are. Sitting opposite each other with so much to say and almost no words. Almost.

You waited for him to fill the awkward silence between the two of you however it seemed as if the longer you two sat here, the more nervous he started being, if his bouncing leg didn't give away enough so you decided to be the one to break the ice.

"So, do you have someone waiting for you back at home?"

His eyes widened comically as all of his movements froze which gave you a bit of satisfaction. You suppose you could be nice only to a certain extent.

"Is that why you think I didn't come?"

His unsure voice theorised as he realised the direction of your thoughts and soon his sharp eyes softened with guilt.

"Is it not?"

You raised your brow in retaliation and saw him heave a sigh of exhaustion before he nodded his head as if preparing himself to become a lab rat.

"I...I guess I should begin with apologising to you first. I'm so sorry that I got cold feet and wasted so much of our time when we could've been together and fuck...i-"

He raked his hand through his hair, clicking his tongue while you quietly watched him; you wanted to hear him and his reasons but to your horror, you realised that nothing he says would justify your suffering after all. How much more selfish could you be?

"You see I wasn't really keen on finding a soulmate, like ever. I had been indifferent to the idea of soulmates, even when I first got my mark, it didn't make me feel any differently. Romance had been the last of my priorities and so I had only had casual relationships. It never really crossed my mind about what I'd do if I found my soulmate. So when Seokmin, out of a blue moon, announced that he found my soulmate and that he fixed us a date at a cafe, I was...thrown out of the loop for the first time in my life, with no sense of direction whatsoever. And like a coward, I ran away at the last moment..."

What started as an anxious blabbering ended with an ashamed mumbling, as if he finally realised how childish and foolish he actually sounded. He decided to make you question your entire existence just because he was scared of a change?

Hah!

"I know I cannot do anything to undo all your pain but I promise to be a better person for you and for us. Please, please give me a chance."

You scoffed at his words as if you really had a choice or time to make him repent. All this, for what?

"The funny thing is, you were so scared of finding your soulmate that now... you won't ever be able to have her.

He gasped as if my words had stabbed him and then twisted the knife in his wound. He shook his head as if to retort but I leaned forward on my chair.

"I..I don't have much time left Wonwoo so even if I wanted to make you make it up to me for the rest of our lives, I'm afraid I don't have much life left within me."

You observed how his eyes glossed with a realisation that seemed to suddenly hit him, which made you smile wryly at his crestfallen visage.

"I was diagnosed with leukaemia shortly after the cafe incident. They had hoped that my soul bond would save me but...."

You stopped when a harsh exhale left Wonwoo's lips as he fell back on the chair as if he had no energy left within him.

"But I abandoned you..."

His empty voice washed the space between the two of you as you watched him slowly retreat into a shell, his complexion paling as his eyes bore holes on the vacant table, body so still as if he were not even conscious.

Was this his repentance?

"Wonwoo!"

You called out to him, not really liking his condition. While you had wanted to see him in pain, just as much as you had been, nothing could've prepared you for this day. You didn't like it, seeing him half dead as if someone snatched his very soul out of him and left him to rot; and the fact that it was due to you was killing you more than your illness.

His eyes snapped to yours, as if you had the remote to his brain, all yours to command. His tearful eye waiting on you tugged at the strings of your heart, making your lips stretch just a bit.

" It's okay. I don't blame you for it and neither do I want you to blame yourself."

A fresh stream of tears fell down his dark chocolate orbs as he shook his head in negation.

"If only I hadn't run away that day, you could've been better and I...I could've still had you in my life."

His voice, laden with grief, shook with every word, filling your own eyes with tears, at the helplessness of the situation. All those days you spent thinking about the ways you'd want Wonwoo to suffer, just as much as you had; had cursed him for seemingly living a peaceful life while you were to your vices but at this moment, you wanted nothing but to curl up in his arms and ask him to hold you while you break down.

But he was so far. So close, yet so far. Right in front of you, but out of reach.

"What could have been is not something that'll change our present Wonwoo. It's useless, trust me; it gives you nothing but misery."

No one knew better than you how it felt to dream about the various possibilities, only to be dragged down to the harsh reality. It was a temporary escape, sure, but also weakened your ability to cope with the present. It was futile. You guess, this was one thing you could leave behind with Wonwoo and hope it helps him in the future.

"I must leave now. I'm exhausted and not really feeling well, if I'm being honest. So, please excuse me."

You knew, the more you stayed in his proximity, the more you'd want Wonwoo and that wouldn't be fair to him, because when your time's finally up, he'll be the one, who's left behind to suffer, all alone, and that too, over a person he's barely known.

Just as you were about to get up, a firm grasp around your wrist followed by a panicked yell of "NO!" stopped you, pulling you back to your chair, as Wonwoo now kneeled in front of you, holding onto your knuckles.

"Please don't leave. Let me be with you. At least, as long as we can."

He no longer hid his desperation as his grip on your knuckles tightened further and his teary eyes begged for yours to understand. You left out a breath in resignation, cupping his cheek, after freeing your hand from his.

"Wonwoo, you don't understand. I really have, at most, a month more and when I'm gone, it'll be hard for you to live on with the soul weariness. So we've to distance ourselves from each other in order to save some part of your soul."

You tried explaining to him, for his own betterment, but he stubbornly shook his head, now holding with both hands, yours to his cheeks, nuzzling into them.

"I don't care. If borrowed time is what we have, it must be for a reason and I want to spend every single second of it right by your side."

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at his ethereal face, his eyes shining like stars, holding yours as if magnets drawn to each other, making your resolve weaken.

There's only so much barrier you could put up, and your heart, as you were coming to realise, was merely a prisoner of your soulmate, who already seemed to have at the palm of his hand.

And so you let yourself be selfish. For one last time.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Four weeks. For weeks were all it took for you to do the very thing you'd promised yourself to not do after getting diagnosed. You fell in love, and that too with your soulmate. And it was bad because all it was doing was going to prolong Wonwoo's misery and seal him to a hopeless future when you ultimately die.

But it's not like you planned to fall in love with him or didn't resist him; heck you didn't even want him to be in your proximity, knowing it was all for nothing but it just happened.

As you two tried to make the most of all the time you had lost, conversing about constellations and giggling over clichés of the most cringe movies known to mankind and debating over your favourite books, it just happened.

Wonwoo understood you like none other, perhaps not even yourself, you felt right at home with him, safe and serene; his knick knacks soon became so dear to you that if there's an afterlife, you're sure you'd reminisce about them as your source of belongingness.

You knew you had no control over time, nobody ever had but since the day you found Wonwoo, time had started slipping like sand, against your wishes and soon your body started deteriorating as you ran out of your borrowed moments, quietly watching Wonwoo conversing with the doctor and the news couldn't have been good, it wasn't if the way Wonwoo's complexion paled further didn't tell you enough.

"What did he say?"

You inquired as soon as he took a seat beside you and noticed the sheen in his eyes that he tried to play off as the gloss of his glasses. He shook his head as he fumbled with the sheets, trying to dodge your query.

"Wonwoo! Look at me. Please!"

You softly requested, wanting to be able to see him, have his attention for you didn't know how long you have now. When you had his attention, you gave him a cajoling smile, hoping it'd mask your pain for you didn't want him to stress himself anymore but who were you kidding?

"I wish I could turn back time. Or rewrite our destiny. Anything. We didn't deserve this."

The angst he was trying so hard to hide finally burst as he held onto your hand, resting his head on his and sobbing.

You truly didn't deserve this. You both deserve to be happy together, get married, travel around the world, have kids and grow old together. But here you are.

And you were so helpless, unable to give your soulmate the happiness he rightfully deserves and instead only bringing him misery ever since he came to know of your existence. Maybe you didn't deserve a soulmate. You didn't deserve Wonwoo.

"We had known this was how it would end Wonwoo."

Your voice trembled as you willed yourself to not break down as Wonwoo's body shook as he cried, holding tight onto your hand as if you'd disappear any moment now.

"But if we could rewrite our story, this time, I wouldn't let go of you easily. I'd march right into your home, burst into your room, slap you right in the face and drag you by the ear to that date we were supposed to have."

You teased him desperately, wanting to stop his sobs for if this was the last time the two of you ever saw each other, you wanted to see his breathtaking smile before you closed your eyes and it worked when he half-heartedly chucked at your jest, roughly wiping his face.

" Yeah I'd like that. That would totally reset my brain."

Your giggle brightened his visage as he placed a kiss on your knuckle but it soon vanished when another pang of cough hit you and more blood trickled down your lips.

You hated this; the pain, the discomfort, Wonwoo's tears. You were so tired.

You just wanted to sleep.

You felt Wonwoo's nimble fingers caressing your head in a soothing gesture and opened your eyes to look at him, wanting to burn his face in your mind.

"I'm sorry!"

You helplessly watched as tears cascaded down his cheeks as he shook his head before kissing your forehead multiple times.

"Ssh! I know!"

Of course he knew. He always knows. Your heart felt light for Wonwoo knows. It's okay.

"I love you!"

You didn't even know you were crying until you felt Wonwoo's fingers on your face as he leaned down and placed his lips on yours.

"I love you too my heart."

He whispered over your lips and after placing a series of pecks over them, he parted, just enough to look at you in the eyes.

"Sleep my love and wait for me. I'll come and find you where no constraints of time limits us."

And so you allowed yourself to sleep, wishing if you get another chance at life, you'd get to spend it at Wonwoo's side, with more than a few weeks, loving him in whatever form you were made to.

For now there was peace in your heart that at least you had all of him in whatever little fragment left of your life.

©Stayinhellevator2024: Please don't copy or translate my work on any platform.

Read On Wattpad

[kanmom51]

JM live 1 September 2023 20:54 or 8:54 pm KST

And a little big about JK's same day live as well.

Part 2

Cr./To creators of content used in this post.

I'm going to dive right in.

Also, not everything I talk about is in the order it's brought up in the live. Just saying. These are ramblings of a blurry mind. Well, sharp and blurry. Just the right combination I say.

Let's talk about the apartment tour, lol.

JM, the master of privacy.

The man that wouldn't even show us his TV, only a cropped screenshot of it when congratulating JK on Dreamers.

The man that over the past close to 2 years since the hiatus, has done every live but one (the Billboard #1) from the company.

Yes, that man.

He not only went live from home (unplanned, which I discussed partially and will probably talk about again later on), from a room we got to see in his previous single home live, but he actually gave us a house tour. Well, somewhat of a house tour. A house ceiling tour with a couple of exceptions, lol.

This tour is divided into 2 parts.

First part was initiated by JM.

And this is important. Because it differentiates between perhaps more pre-thought of and less pre-thought of (more of a spur of the moment thing).

So, after mentioning JK (and reading out the hand comment) JM thinks of this:

JM wanting to show us his mood lamp. His planet mood light.

You know what I'm talking about, right? The one with that huge ass sun just right in your face.

He tells us how he simply came to meet us today and he has something to brag about.

Now let's wait up a minute.

He simply came to meet us on JK's birthday adorning his big ass watch starting the live at the time stamp JK was born, like time started counting from that minute and on (for him at least), and now he wants to brag about something that his friend laughed at him about (a grown man sleeping with a mood lamp), which happens to have the sun up front and centre, all huge in it's full glory, for him to fall asleep with (me continuing his story: when his bf isn't or can't be there by his side to fall asleep with).

Yep. All of that!

Ok, so JM is walking around, taking us to what is clearly his bedroom, camera at ceiling because his place is too dirty (his words) as he wasn't planning to go live from home (funny how plans change). He repeats it btw. Saying "I really didn't intend to."

Pause a second (we might be doing this more than once today). This is me just going back for a second to that same point I made in part 1. JM was not going to do the live from home. He doesn't say he wasn't going to do a live. He says he wasn't going to do a live form home.

JM takes us to his bedroom.

Who would have believed this day would come?

And if talking about not believing a day will come, perhaps me jumping the gun here, but can't hold back the excitement, what about this coming from JM?

Can't say I'm not shocked.

But then, maybe, just maybe, a little of his bf is rubbing off on him? And maybe, just maybe there is a reason for his sudden openness with us?

Anyway, back to JM's bedroom.

What's this now?

Not sure if he intended for us to see this, but we even got a peak at his bed for a millisecond... shock and awe...

*And kind of a downer for those that thought the snore in the dark was JK sleeping in bed. here is bed. Empty. Made. No JK. I guess you win some you lose some, lol.

Now this is where I got a little confused first time watching this. I actually thought that JM took the lamp from his bedroom to another room so to not be in his bedroom. Cause he sits down, fiddles around with something. Then gets up again and walks around, camera at ceiling (which was very confusing). But watching it a second and third time I think that he was setting the lamp up, connecting it perhaps, and then got up to close all the doors (bedroom door, bathroom door, closet door and who knows what other door) to go dark so we can see the beautiful projection.

And him having to connect the lamp, does it kinda maybe mean that he doesn't use it every night, mainly because who needs to fall asleep looking at the picture of the sun when the sun is right besides you in bed? Food for thought.

This is what he shows us at first.

He then turns the camera around to show other planets. But he always goes back to the sun. And makes sure to explain to us that it is the sun.

And while, once more, focusing on the sun says: "It's pretty, right?"

It definitely is.

And when he does his whole foot up in the air (I don't think he was pointing, because when he wanted to point he did it with his finger, pointing at the sun) caressing or whatever you want to think he was actually doing, it's with the sun.

You know what came to mind first thing I saw this?

JM and his love for playing footsies with JK.

Oh, and if I'm already going down memory lane, we have JK too.

Back to business.

I find it funny how JM on the one hand says multiple times he wanted to brag to us about the lamp, and then says it's embarrassing that a man nearing 30 sleeping with a lamp. And he talks about the friend appalled by it, lol. That a guy who lives alone (he repeats this) sleeps with a lamp. I guess that when you can't have the sun with you then a projection of it on the ceiling has to do.

JM adds: "these days I look at the ceiling and space out" - looks at the lamp projection that is. And when he says "these days", once again I'm thinking of it being due to JK's clearly super busy schedule.

So yeah, that was more or less part one of JM's house tour.

At this point JM turns off the light and walks back to the PC room (still only letting us see the ceiling as he is moving through the house).

He sits back down and tells us he is living his life like this.

He's sitting there reading comments for a few seconds and then he reads this one out:

Welcome to part 2 of the house tour, lol.

He straight away says: "you can see the secret room", grabs the camera and off he goes (again camera at ceiling of course), and asks himself "what are some things I can show?", while obviously there is still very much more that he doesn't want us to see.

He says "I will show just this one then", following by saying he really didn't want to show "my room", and then we are in his gym.

Shows us his treadmill, tells us "this is my secret room...right here."

So, let's pause for a second here before we move on.

JM clearly decided it's time to share with us (without saying it out loud) that he is boxing. A lot. The hands (he left raw for all to see) and showing us his gym as well.

JM has a punching bag at home.

No biggie, right?

He has a full proper gym at home, much like Tae does, and most likely the others too, well most of the others, because JK doesn't. JK, until a short while ago, didn't have any workout equipment at home. Let alone a punching bag. THE boxer in the group does not have a punching bag at home. And do we talk about the fact that all of his workout equipment, the little that he does have, is in his lounge room? I digressed. As usual. Anyway, now we know for sure (as if we didn't before) that JM is clearly boxing, and all that is left to see is his set of boxing gloves.

And then, JM goes to show us his dad's bedroom, for when he visits him. JM asks himself if there is anything he can show us from dad's room, answering "vacuum cleaner".

JM walks out of that last room, he looks around, nods with his head (looked like he was contemplating something but decided on NOPE), and walks back to the PC room.

End of house tour.

While on the way there he tells us how his parents "came over to my house and said this..."your house really has nothing, it's like a model house. It doesn't seem like a person lives here. Do you want us to change a bit?".

Ok, so JM's been living in that apartment at the very latest since May 2021. Over 2 years!! And in that time his parents must have visited multiple times. We know at least of once back in October 2021, so a long time ago. JM isn't telling us when exactly this was said to him, and timing, my friends, is everything. There is a before and an after that might be going on here. And It's kind of curious how at this point in time both JM's place and JK's place are lacking in the feeling of a home in the true sense of it. Lacking in adding their little personal touch to the place. Giving them both, at this point, the feel of these places being a temporary fix. Just until perhaps a certain 5 story house is built.

Do I address the marimo discussion and how it turned into a Suga discussion? Was that JM shutting down Yoonminers? Lol.

JM reads out a comment "I miss Jin and Jhope" and tells us he's thinking of going to visit them.

JM continues to read through the comments and reacts to them, this is around the 29 min. mark. You think the hand comments don't continue again? Like he hasn't addressed it 10 times already during this live. He smiles through it, but seriously!!!!

One comment has him giggling : "In my last dream you went out with me but I got dumped". Lmao. At least they were being realistic. His answer was: "I'm sorry. It wasn't intentional". Ehm, excuse me, but to me dumping feels very intentional. Lol.

One of the most annoying comments, well in my humble opinion, was the one asking him why the chocolate factories have closed. Poor man was waiting and waiting on a reply on that one, so much so he was putting off finishing the live, he was seriously curious, only to have this stupid ass punch line about him being sweet. From the expression on his face when he finally read the answer he was probably thinking "this is what I was waiting for?", lol.

JM's asked about his skin care routine to which he answers: "it's nothing, I just wash up, and I just apply it on my face. Just the cream". Thing is later on as he's closing up he says he has to go wash up but:

Curious.

Didn't he just tell us all about it earlier? Or was this him just being cheeky?

JM tells us he goes for a run in the middle of the night and runs into RM.

Quite interesting that the first time he noticed RM's poster was almost 2 weeks after it was placed there. Especially now that we know from him he's out jogging every night. Was he possibly away for a while? Perhaps not alone?

JM was asked about dramas he's watched and answered he hasn't watched many lately.

I guess JK being busy is the cause for that. We know for a fact that they watch shows together.

Then he's asked "show your 7 tattoos", to which JM answers:

"You saw it yesterday. Photos went up. Really...I saw that...Definitely...I'm an anchovy." giggle giggle giggle. "Anchovy...phew..." giggle..."just laugh at it and move on..."

Lol, I'm sure he's also referring to him standing on his tippie toes for the pose, trying to seem bigger and taller than he is.

Now wait a second here.

The comment asked him to show his 7 tattoos. Not "show your moon tattoo". Not "show your back tattoo". Clear as day talking about his 7 tattoos, and JM was the one to read it out!!!

So, obviously that riske (not really, but clearly an eye opener) photo he posted for JK's birthday was on his mind. Or is it more so that JK is on his mind?

JM's told he needs to sleep well. The man says it's rare, but he actually slept well today. Usually when he has schedules he doesn't sleep well. But:

I guess something, or someone, helped tire him out.

And yes, I can hear the guys on the balcony with the "if he slept so much he couldn't have been with JK". Yeah-nah. Have we not seen these guys schedules? Did I not talk about it in part 1? Night and day are non existent. JM slept 8 to 9 hours and came out - to his schedule, in the evening. These two go to sleep in the morning and wake up at noon. Even in JM's last live, when he was talking about having a proper schedule, including a proper sleep schedule, he was talking about sleeping in late. So no, him sleeping properly doesn't rule out them spending the night together. JM doesn't tell us when he went to sleep or when he woke up. Actually, the way he words it, it's more like he slept till late and woke up in time for his Dior schedule.

Pretty much this was where JM was wanting to end the live.

And starts to sum it up.

After a few more comments JM winds it up saying his goodbyes.

And that was the end of JM's live on JK 's birthday.

Oh, btw, remember I said that when I first saw JM's live photo I mistook it for JK? How those pants seemed a little big on him? Well came across this today:

I'm not 100% sold those are the exact pair of pants, but they sure look similar. And even if they aren't same pants, well my point in part 1 was proven - the pants being exactly the style that JK wears.

I had one more thing I wanted to talk about, which I'm not sure about, but thought it would be good to mention.

About the 12 minute mark JM is talking about taking lessons in English. And he was saying it's hard but he has to force himself to do it, cause otherwise he won't do it. And then he talks about how people get lazy and gives an example. And here is where I found something a little curious. There I go with that word again.

The word of the day: Curious.

Anyway, JM gives an example. And he words it like this:

"You know there is this. I came home as it is like this... It's 9:07... I think that I should wash up at 9:30... But we don't wash up... And later, when it's 1 in the morning... I should really wash up. To sleep...I must wash up. You also know this happens".

And he's giggling the whole time.

Did you notice? The switch from I to we?

Now, it could be him talking about him and us, but I kind of don't think it was, as he starts with I and goes to we and then back to I.

It could also definitely be a slip of the tongue.

You know who the we he might be talking about is. That plus one that turns I to we. That certain plus one that has told us on multiple occasions how he dislikes to wash up before sleep, delaying the inevitable as much as possible, also using that term lazy with regards to it.

Just thought I'd share this little thing I notices with you guys before I finish up with this post.

I feel like this part of my post is a little more all over the place (a bit like JM perhaps, lol). Maybe a little too much blurry and not enough sharp, lol. But hey, I guess it is what it is.

So, we had JK doing the short live nothing like his usual birthday lives, and then later in the day JM coming live, unplanned. Well more so unplanned from home. Could they have been planning to do a live together at Hybe? Could JK have been planning to and asked JM to go live in his place seeing he's held up?

Who knows.

What I do hope is that next time it's not going to be the two live on the same day, but rather the two live same day same time same place.

Here's wishing.

[seramilla]

EXORCIST AU

What has she done wrong that has led to this? She was a good soldier. Following orders like she was supposed to. Listened to every word to the D, trooped through every command, passed every judgement they decided upon. Yet... She finds herself standing on edge of Heaven's gates.

Just over the edge whole new world of destruction and suffering can be seen. Carmilla briefly glanced behind her. There stood her home... Her now ex home.

There weren't any more welcome looks. Just glares, that made her shiver to the core. The high angels of Heaven are staring daggers into her. And... She doesn't know why.

What's even worse. Her lover was there among them. Not even daring to look her in the eye. What kind of betrayal is this? She served heaven as she was supposed to, yet she was being chased away.

"Why!?", she screamed on top of her lungs towards them. They ignored her and pointed their weapons towards her. One of the higher ups, Michael stepped forward, bearing his spear.

"You know what you did. You betrayed Heaven and now must be punished by law." "But, but, I didn't... Arrrhgh", screamed Carmilla as the angel grabbed her wings, squeezing them together painfully.

"You don't deserve them."

Carmilla then felt excruciating pain spread through her spine. It made her fall to the ground as she writhed in pain, her back arching, her hands trying to find her now lost wings. Tears flew from her eyes as her screams turned into sobs.

After that, Michael grabbed her by the hair and started dragging her towards the edge. She fought as much as she could, trashing her legs around, trying to find some sort of footing, but to no avail. Clouds were always her worst nightmare, but now her only salvation.

Then, there was nothing beneat her. The last thing she sees were the angels by the gate. And her lover's tears falling down. That look of desperation and need to help, but inability die to the rules. At least she knows now that Sera wasn't against her. With that salvation, she accepts her fate as she is falling down from Heaven.

She is a fallen now.

:3

How dare you make me cry before I've had my morning coffee!!! 😭😭 (It's the ass crack of dawn at the time I'm queuing this up)

(Also, I'm so sorry, I can't remember which AU this one is for. Is it proto-Exorcist Carmilla falling??? Let me know and I'll tag appropriately)

There is just something so fraught and heart-breaking about Carmilla being paraded out in front of the elders and other angels, humiliated and defenestrated in front of her peers and fellow Exorcists, that makes even the other angels who are bearing witness to the event take pity on her.

The concept of falling is not a new one. Ever since Lucifer and his legions dared to go against Heaven's mandate, the threat of becoming Fallen perpetually sits at the back of every angel's mind. It's a parable all elder angels tell their younger counterparts, that if they deter from the path or fall out of line, they could be tossed into the pit of fire. Heaven's control over its population is absolute, and they do not hesitate to make an example of one another, to keep angels and Winners alike in line, and maintain that control.

Carmilla's sin is similar to Lucifer's. She is a dreamer, in the sense that she wants better for herself and those around her. She has never given in to the pomp and circumstance of Heaven's hierarchy, or ever hesitated to question why things are the way they are. She's a "Lucifer apologist," is what they call her. She questions why Heaven pushes such antiquated, ridiculous rules, such that an angel of her limited standing can't mingle with the likes of a High Seraphim. Why two people who are in love can't be happy with one another. It's moronic -- it's bogus -- that she and Sera can't love each other, on their own terms.

That she's being cast out, for daring to touch another angel above her station, is beyond her comprehension. Not even mentioning that the other angel is a woman, which adds yet another layer of complexity to her sentence. Carmilla can't begin to comprehend the predicament she finds herself in. None of these pointless rules even make any sense!

Michael pushes her, and she falls, and during the descent, Carmilla can only ask why? Why hadn't Sera come to her defense? Why did she just watch them force her out, without saying anything? Why didn't Sera at least try to save her? Did their feelings and declarations of love ever mean anything? Or was it all just a farce? Were they just words whispered in moments of passion, that never held meaning beyond surface level?

Now Carmilla will never know. And as she falls, her head swims with so much regret and sorrow, and she cries tears of desperate grief. She succumbs to her fate as she disappears into the void, the flames licking at her aching back.

[uva124]

ASHA (MY AU)

Emmmmm how the hell do these types of blogs get started?

This post is just going to be me rambling on about what I want to do with Asha.

So let's get started?

INTRODUCTION: -As I said before I'm still developing this story (damn I don't even have an outline) but I wanted to start this rewrite (or plan it a little) because of something that really frustrates me about Wish, literally in a movie that commemorates 100 YEARS OF THE MOST IMPORTANT STUDY OF ANIMATION IN THE WORLD and the topic of art has not been given the importance it deserved, you know? It's like, yes, Asha shows her sketchbook in certain scenes, but then what? It literally seems like it's just for decoration, damn, Disney could have done the same thing as with the Miles Morales sketchbook in Spiderverse, but I'm already getting distracted from the topic, so one of my goals with this was to emphasize how important art can be , and not just the drawing, but all the forms that exist of it.

-So Asha is a little different from previous Disney princesses.

2. HISTORY:

CHILDHOOD: Yup! I'm joining the angst ship, I don't really blame anyone *cough* *cough* Flicker *cough* Bo *COUGH* *COUGH* ANNY *cough*, damn my allergies are getting worse. So Asha at this stage is quite cheerful and positive, basically like Rapunzel, Moana, Anna and this princess trope, however this takes place in the modern world (the movie would be set like in the princess and the frog movie only the world It's a little more modern) Asha discovers her passion for drawing, and as she grows up she wants to dedicate herself to that and is full of a lot of dedication and determination, but what would happen if we corrupted her dreams?

PUBERTY: “It's fine as a hobby…but it won't work Asha”, “Don't you like doing other more…useful things?”, “Come on, you have so much talent, are you really going to waste it on this?” , “Have fun without having a future” “Really this is more important than your other things Asha?” ,Yes, I am adding this, Asha wants to dedicate herself to animation, so Asha at first, like every Disney princess with character, ignores these types of comments, which came from anyone in general, some said it with good intentions and in a calmer mode and others in a more aggressive way (you know, being idiots), but when you receive this type of comments your entire life, it will somehow affect the protagonist, and it will only get worse *Insert evil laugh*

ADOLESCENCE: I didn't mention it but I plan to include Asha's family, or at least at the beginning, she was living with her parents Sakina and Tomas as in the official movie (I'm still debating whether to add Sabino or not), her father gets sick as in the original movie, so Sakina and Asha do their best to help him, then Asha has less and less time to concentrate on practicing drawing and in general her hobbies (I also want to emphasize that here Asha was doubting more and more about drawing as a professional way and started to despise her talent a little bit, not completely but that little seed had already been inserted in her head), her father was her biggest motivation, he was a dreamer like his daughter, her mother was more down to earth but equally supportive of her family, Tomas was always the first to see his daughter's drawings.

So continued the life of our protagonist, studying, working a little and drawing in the little time she had, and in those jobs she met Magnifico and Amaya, I'm still debating how I'm going to write them, but I'm sure I want them to do a scene with Asha that I'll explain later, for now let's continue.

One day Asha's father can't take it anymore and dies…….. all Asha could do was watch her mother running to her room because she really didn't want her daughter to see her in that state.

With that you're probably wondering, “Well, Asha can get a motivation to keep being a dreamer and pursue her dreams to follow her father's legacy rigth? “ Well actually………no, Asha in my Au unfortunately had already endured TOO many comments that referred to her dreams of being an entertainer or artist, even her mother had referred to it in a not so positive way (no, Sakina is a good mother, she's not perfect, but she cares like every mother about her daughter's future) , and without her major support in life, that…..eso ended up deciding that she would just give up on those dreams… or at least until a certain day.

CURRENTS: In the movie Asha is presented as a girl who studies a career that she does not like for the most part, but she says to herself “It's too late to redeem herself, there is no turning back, I just have to continue and everything will be fine, for me and my family”, she also works as an assistant to Magnifico and Amaya, during years of having met them she was getting closer little by little, in fact they knew the protagonist's family for some years but they had distanced themselves, they also “tried” to help with Tomas' illness, but as it was shown before that did not work out, now they gave Asha this job opportunity and she is not going to waste it, since she still has to help her mother.

Let's say that Asha doesn't draw much anymore, she still makes small sketches because, well, when you are really passionate about something you keep doing it despite the adversities, right? Even unconsciously (you're understanding what I'm trying to say, right? ), besides, it's not like she still deep inside has not stopped wanting to fulfill her dream, although she every time says that making drawings will not lead her to anything or just saying “it's a hobby that will not lead me to anything useful or important” is just to have a constant reminder that she might not make it, that it's not worth it, that no matter how much she loves to create and draw, it just doesn't make sense anymore.

Remember I told you about a scene between the villain duo and Asha? well this is what I have in mind:

Asha somehow or another is going to end up asking Magnifico and Amaya for help, which would lead to Asha maybe not working with them anymore or something so she can pursue a small glimmer of hope of fulfilling her dream of being an animator (as I say before, this post is just me rambling), the villain duo simply proceed to manipulate the poor girl by making snide and manipulative comments about her “insignificant goals” and her “wasted talent”, if Asha herself was already quite doubtful about these issues, this just makes her worse, she's lost, she doesn't know what to do, she's afraid of her future, she doesn't want to let her mother down, she doesn't want to end up being a disappointment (maybe I overdo angst, it doesn't matter, it's important for ✨character development✨).

Now a multiversal cosmic thing happens (that I'm still thinking about) but the point is that my Starboy (Haedus) and his 2 protégé/small brothers (Nembus and Naos) arrive, at first Asha is VERY SCARED AND CONFUSED, I mean, this is not possible right, she must be confused from crying so much - I mean this only happens in the movies and fantasy stories she saw as a child right?! (lmao)

At first she doesn't get along with Haedus, not at all, with the little ones at first she is a bit distant, but little by little she starts to develop a great appreciation for them, the little starlets (and then Haedus) throughout the story bring back to Asha that dreamy and positive side of her.

Also Asha is not the type of person who makes derogatory comments when it comes to the goals or dreams of other people and her friends despite having received them all her life, no, she is not that type of person, of course everything she has lived through makes her more sarcastic or pessimistic at times, but she doesn't want someone else to feel like her, she doesn't want anyone to go through what she went through, and this is only reinforced with the arrival of the stars.

I have to mention that Nembus and Naos make Asha remember how she was as a child: cheerful, positive, dreamer, and seeing how the antagonists want to hurt them, how that can destroy the hopes and illusions of the little stars, that just makes her more determined to defend the little ones at all costs.

“They still have dreams, and they can still fulfill them, that's why I won't let others destroy those dreams, not like me.”

3.PERSONALITY:

-Sarcastic -Negative to a certain extent -Empathetic -Indecisive -Calm -Organized

FINAL COMMENTS:

That's all I have for now, I hope I haven't bored you, as I said before, this is all just my rambling, I still don't have an outline or plan for this, anyway, I hope you had a good time reading this, see you next time!✨✨✨

[rose-of-pollux]

So, @belphegor1982 asked me for my thoughts on the BTTF musical which I saw about 10 days ago, and I've managed to put them together and keep them as spoiler-free as possible--

Even before you go into the theatre, the merch store is separate, which is great when it's a rainy January night and you're waiting for the doors to open (which I was). I'm not sure if this has been a thing for previous productions at the Winter Garden Theatre, but for other Broadway shows I've seen in different theatres (Phantom and Anastasia), the merch was sold inside the theatre, and you needed a ticket to get to it/wait til the doors opened.

The pre-show immersion/ambiance is fantastic; not even Phantom can boast that.

There are numerous easter eggs for fans of the movies; it's so fun spotting them all.

It does not take long for the fourth wall to come tumbling down, and it is glorious. Marty even lampshades it in the opening number.

@knickynoo mentioned this in her writeup, but Doc and Marty are just as neurodivergent (if not moreso) than their movie counterparts

Doc is also so very obviously asexual in this version, I love it.

A small thing, but we actually get to hear Doc say "If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything." In the movie, everyone credits him for saying it, but we never actually hear him say it.

Doc's involvement in the Manhattan Project is canonized in the musical-verse!

The DeLorean is borderline sentient and sassy

Most people know by now that they changed Twin Pines Doc's cause of death/the reason Marty goes back in time, and it works so much better for both practicality reasons on stage, and for the fact that the original was a charging bull elephant in the room.

Goldie Wilson gets an absolute banger for his song (as well he should!)

Another small thing, I like the little addition of Doc's fear of heights.

@wromwood pointed out how only Doc and Marty seem to acknowledge the existence of the chorus ensemble (Lorraine gets some backup singers for her number out of nowhere, but she takes no notice of them). I didn't even realize this until he mentioned it, and now I'm fascinated by the implications of Doc and Marty being hyper-aware of the fourth wall for whatever reasons.

The Act I closing number is gloriously chaotic.

...I could do an entire post about why I love "For the Dreamers" so much and how it delves so deeply into Doc's character. Just... GAH. This man has dealt with so many naysayers and considers himself a failure (it's telling that he did technically have a success with the Manhattan Project, but still considers that a failure--I'd theorize because he obviously feels so dang guilty about having the blood of innocent civilians on his hands as a result of it) but now he has hope that he will accomplish something great.

Not only do we have Marty worrying about Doc dying in 1985, we get to see him worried and unsure of his own fate. This kid has been Through It, and it isn't over yet.

THE WAY THEY DID THE ENCHANTMENT UNDER THE SEA DANCE. I cannot spoil this; you must experience this firsthand, but I will assure you that "Earth Angel" and "Johnny B Goode" are there in all their glory.

The Clocktower scene is spectacular. You're wondering how they'll pull it off onstage, and they just do it.

Others have mentioned this BUT WE GET THE LONE PINE HUG THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN IN THE MOVIE.

The absolute best meta joke comes courtesy of Jennifer near the end. I cannot spoil this either, but if you know, you know.

THAT FINALE (again, if you know, you know).

[agere-fics]

Mickey D's

dni: k!nk, anti-agere, agepl4y, or ddlg-esque blogs 🍄 this blog is a safe space for age regressors and age dreamers 🍄

Characters: Modern World AU Din Djarin, Age Regressor Reader

Pairing: Caregiver!Din Djarin x Regressor!Reader

Summary: A long day of work was the tipping point for your stress. Now, you're impure regressing.

Word Count: 764

Content Warnings: Impure regression, stress, physical touch (like hugs), mentions of going to work, work related stress, use of bubby/baba for Din, that's it :)

love y'all 🐈

♡

Most days you can move past that gut wrenching feeling. It lingers in your abdomen, in a stand still, until it bulges out like a cruel, evil monster.

What comes of it is a crying, snotty mess. Makes you feel like the world is crumbling and that soon the universe would be devoured. But after a while... it can actually make you feel okay. Being little turns into a warm, tight hug, with heaps of security and safety.

You're so busy for so long that you hardly ever go into that headspace willingly anymore. Your subconscious decides when it's had enough at whatever point in time.

Today was one of those days and you think Din knew.

For one thing, you had him drive you to work that morning. The less obvious one may have been you biting your nails. Maybe your orderly squared breathing was noticed, too.

You were about to find out as you walked closer and closer to his parked grey pickup truck.

You reached for the car door and swung it open.

"Hey, bug-"

"SHHHH!" You panicked and looked around. No heads were turned or funny faces pulled. You were in the clear.

Din muttered a soft oh.

Belongings flew onto the floor of his truck, followed by you plopping nto the passenger seat. The door slammed shut.

You sighed, covering your face with your hands.

Din started, "Can I-"

Screams were muffled, taking residency in your palms.

"Oh, baby." Din slowly reached his arm over to you, placing his hand on your back. You flinched, but didn't give any other sign of discomfort from it. He rubbed soft circles into you, and breathed a deep sigh.

It hurt so bad, so very bad, this pain in your chest, this ache in your heart, this hurt in your head. But you couldn't even cry. Nothing. Not even a tear. You were so numb to it all.

You threw your body into him, colliding with his side and wrapping your arms around him. "B-bubby." you quivered.

Din leaned into your embrace and kissed the top of your head. "It's alright. It's okay." He assured you. "Some days are not good days. I know the feeling. You're doing so good, and trying so hard. I'm so proud of you for that."

"Don't wanna- can't talk 'bout it anymore."

"We don't have to, little lovebug. I do have something that might cheer you up, though, but only if you're interested-"

You lifted your head and looked at him with wide curious eyes. Your bubby looked right back at you with the universe glowing in his. A grin finally grew upon your face as you moved to sit back in the passenger seat.

"Close your eyes."

You squeezed your eyes really, really tight. So tight, it was kinda uncomfortable. For good measure, you also used your palms to hide your eyes.

"I'm gonna hand it to you, and you have to guess what it is, okay?"

You nodded swiftly.

"Here ya go." Din giggled, loving how happy he could make you.

You heard the crinkling of something but gasped as soon as you felt it. It was that all so familiar bag you've held countless times before. Your eyes went wide. You kicked your legs and swung your body side to side, you were just so excited you couldn't contain it. "It's McDonald's!"

"That's right, my beautiful little one, it's good ol' Mickey D's." Both of you let out little giggles.

What's the best elixir for a bad, bad day? Bubby and your favorite food EVER!

You started to open the bag until Din stopped you.

"Wait, butterfly, hold on." You look at him. "I need you to eat it at home."

"Awww," you frowned. "But why?"

"Because," He thought for a moment. "Because, bubby likes to keep this big, old truck very, very clean... and being clean makes me very, very happy."

You looked at him for a second and eventually relinquished. "Okay. I love you, Bubby. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"I love you even more, honey bee." He kissed your head. Din got settled back in his seat and began to start up the car. "Seatbelts on?"

You exclaimed, "Oh, yeah! check!"

"Okay, we are off-"

"WAIT BABA YOUR SEATBELT!"

Din moved his foot. Luckily he hadn't actually started going yet. His brows wrinkled. "Huh?" He looked down and saw that he did, in fact, forget to put it on.

"Silly bubby, we have to be safe!" You quickly dragged his seat belt into the buckle and made sure he was very properly secured.

"Thank you so much, caterpillar. What would I do without you." He smiled. "Now, can I go?" He looked to you expectantly.

"Yes! vroom vroom!"

Giggles echoed off the car walls, your day was already getting better.

♡

[rat-rambles]

Billford AU time doomed soulmates with a twist.

The rest is context / short fic thing.

“Hi Bill, please take a seat.” 

Bill politely went to the couch. 

“What’s up doc?”

“Cute, now do you have anything you'd like to talk about today?”

Bill scoffed,

“Yeah, how about how this is a complete waste of time!”

“It's not a waste, don't you want to get out of here?”

“Yeah as myself not as some insect or insignificant pest. Tell me doc, why would I have spent countless lifetimes getting myself to the 4th dimension only to go back willingly?”

“Technically we can’t be sure where you'd end up, your soul would travel to where it feels it's needed.” 

“And how does that end in a mayfly?”

“Well normally such small lives are stepping stones on a healing journey; you'd make it back to sentient life in time. You know I'm not supposed to share all this with patients but,... oh that's interesting.” 

The doc looked surprised at their notes.

“what? What is it if you tell me I'm gonna be a Dorito I'll-!” 

“ I didn't know you had a soul mate.”

That stopped Bill in his tracks.  

“What.. what do you mean I have a soulmate .. soulmates aren't real?”

“Well not everyone has them and they don't meet in every lifetime but in the primordial nebulas your soul had bonded with another. It's like 2 atoms drawn together even if across the universe. You would have been together by now for sure if you had lived our your expected life span.”

“What do you mean been together? Who is it?” 

“They now go by, oh yes, Stanford Pines, yes you've mentioned him.” 

“Stanford can NOT be my soulmate, you're just trying to pry some feelings out of me with these, these dirty tricks! You think you can manipulate me really?”

“No tricks, look, see there's your soul, his is the blue one.”

Doc handed Bill a photo of them as 2 glowing orbs hovering in the ether. Bill held the photo and he felt his very soul thumb at the photo in recognition. There was no denying the truth of course, only there was.

“This is bull! He's met me, he hates me! It only works out with us if I break out of here and finish what I started!”

“Now I'm not supposed to share about alternate timelines with patients but I think this might actually help you.” 

They pulled out a clip board. 

“I found this one looking for something to help you.” 

Bill took the clipboard. His eye landed on the image of a young adult human with long blonde hair and a big smile. 

“What is this”

“You, well your soul, if it had gone through it's cycles of reincarnation as intended.” 

Bill read the paper. It talked about a boy named Bill. An odd dreamer born in Wyoming but moved to New Jersey. This Bill met Ford before college and they went to the same one. He was never as smart as Ford but Fordsy called him the visionary. It read that together they worked on inventions to see the stars and worlds beyond.

“You want me to believe this is me?”

“If you never became immortal, yes.” 

“Well then it's not me. I would have never survived if I didn't! I mean you don't understand what it was like you can't have.”

“Lots of people have bad childhoods Bill” 

“LOTS of people are roaches who can't do anything to fix their reality! I can, I did, and this fake Bill didn't!” 

“Fake Bill is happy”

“Oh, is fake Bill happy? This photo is what, in the 80’s? Please. I've seen the way Ford treated his brother and Fiddleford, Ford isn't the kind to just settle down and be happy.” 

“Well he actually has a great number of happy endings.” 

“And let me guess they all don't involve me? At least like this, because I HAVE to change”

“You DO have to change Bill but that's not a bad thing, change is beautiful, change is life!” 

“No, your change is death, my change will be life.” 

Doc sighed. 

“Well that's all the time we have for today.”

Bill clutched the clipboard uncontrollably. 

“You can keep that but don't tell the others.” 

Back in Bill's room he flipped through the pages again and again. He had nothing else to do but memorize the details of his other life. He wondered if the reason they weren't allowed to tell patients these things was because it's torture. Knowing that you could have had a better life but didn't. He looked for reasons to dismiss it, to think it's a pitiful stupid existence to think that they were simply lesser beings on a lower plane. 

[azureflight]

HotD is not a prequel to GoT. It's a soft reboot for the tv franchise.

WARNING: The author is overdosing on copium and hopium, smoked directly from a colossal tin foil hat. Beware.

We have all groaned at the mention of the prophesy in the very first episode of the first season of HotD. "Why even bring that up?" was the common, understandable response. After all, that whole TPTWP/Azor Ahai thing went absolutely nowhere in GoT. There was no need for anything from any of them, they stupidly gave WW a dragon which allowed them to pass the Wall in the first place and then it turned out WW were not a big deal as Arya solo-killing one dude with a dagger they had since season 1 episode 2 was all it took.

The complete meaninglessness and worthlessness of the whole prophesy and the sheer weakness of an anti-climax that was the Others (White Walkers) threat is one of the main complaints people had with the entire S8 of GoT, especially the book fandom. And it always felt like a stupid twisting of the knife to keep talking about it in HotD, since we know it goes nowhere and means nothing.

Now, we know that's not how it's gonna go in the books. Not only is GRRM on the record talking about it, but 2D are also on record bragging about making it all up on their own. But this is the show and it's already not following the books, so talking about it in show canon is moot.

Unless...

Unless of course, HotD is the start of a second, separate show canon, distinct from GoT.

Now, when I first heard it in season 1, I assumed, like many others, it was a misguided attempt at making references to the OG show in order to hype up the audience and create connective tissue to get us into this new story. And indeed, as HotD repeatedly brought it up again and again, I too have rolled my eyes so far back I almost went blind.

But with the first episode of season 2, now HotD did something else. It didn't just allude to a prophesy that went nowhere, to a threat that was a big fat nothing. Instead, it straight up contradicted GoT.

The infamous "Beyond the Wall" episode was first broadcasted in 2017. Fire & Blood got published in 2018 and came with a specific passage, a letter from Alysanne to Jaehaerys, about how her dragon refused to cross the Wall. This info was not available before in any books, thought it was speculated by the fandom as a possibility. The book directly went against GoT, it felt like GRRM saying "no, wtf, no."

GRRM also gave HotD the info about Aegon I being a dreamer and the whole conquest being motivated by a prophesy about the Long Night, and TPTWP.

HotD did not have to include any of this. Targaryens and their dragons and Dany was good enough hooks for GoT/asoiaf audience. No one knew about Aegon I being a dreamer or having a prophesy, so no one would be upset by such an "omission" either. Indeed, including this bit of info earned them only derision and rebuke, continues to do so.

So why persist? They talked about it again and again in season 1, but by the time they sat down to write the scripts for season 2, the feedback was out there, not only from online fandom but also from professional critics in the industry. This prophesy is not crucial or fundamental to Dance's story neither, they could skip, tone down, ignore. But they don't. They changed so much from the books, a borderline fanfic at this point, yet they insist upon talking about this and hyping it up against the collective negativity of the fandom. Why?

HotD is the first spin off from Got/asoiaf IP that HBO purchased. S8 was such a massive let down, what had been an iconic cultural cornerstone for a decade, almost instantly dropped from discussions, unless it was to talk about "shows with shit endings." There was talk of "remaking" it, almost as soon as the last episode aired, which was of course nonsense, but it explains the mood.

HBO sat down and commissioned bunch of spin offs, not only to milk a popular franchise, but also to keep it alive after a massive blow. And GRRM was particularly backing HotD, talking about how Dance was a story he always wanted to tell.

Now, with HotD's success, we have Dunk&Egg coming, as soon as 2025 if all the news is to be believed. A script is being developed for the Conquest, there is talk of reviving Nymeria's show. HotD did its job of salvaging the IP after what could have been a franchise killer of a garbage ending to GoT.

Thinking on it in very general terms, everyone agrees that asoiaf books will eventually get another shot at adaptation. Of course they will, everything does. Reboots and remakes never die. But when, where, how, is the question, and I think we have the answer.

HotD is where it starts. This show is not a mere prequel to "Game of Thrones". It is the starting point of a new show universe for asoiaf franchise. And the first thing they did to set it all up and signal that commitment, is to talk about the prophesy, the Long Night, and how that's not gonna go like it did in the GoT.

HotD brought up Aegon I's prophesy upon hearing it from GRRM, keeps talking about TPTWP, keeps alluding to the super important threat of WW and now went out of its way to inject that "dragons cannot cross the wall" lore bit, not because they have a bizarre compulsion to make references to a failed plot line that pisses everyone off, but because they are specifically developing towards another shot at that plot line, one that promises to be better.

HotD is not a GoT prequel. It is the first installment of the new asoiaf-show universe. D&E, the Conquest, and maybe even Nymeria when it arrives, will follow this new canon, and all of them will eventually lead to another adaptation of asoiaf novels.

When? No idea. Harry Potter and the deathly Hallows Part 2 was released in 2011. A remake of the novels, now in tv series format, is currently being developed and projected to release at 2026. Apparently 15 years is seen as enough. Will it be longer for asoiaf? Maybe. Shorter? I do not think so.

But it is coming. We always knew it would eventually, some how, come, but I think we now know how and where it's coming from.

[jjongswannabebae]

< !!experimental!! not sure what this is but i wanted to write, written in 3rd pov. includes some vague smut tw: mention of a bruise (not sh) , food, psychotic behaviour, death (16+) >

dreamer.

She was a dreamer. One that would swing her arms beside her torso to breeze her sweat draped body or clutch her little 90s cassette tape in her hands as she doodled some gibberish listening to same tape over n over hunched over the one of convience store tables

Maybe it was this intriguing petite figure that aroused jays interest. He often think she'd fit in his pocket, that he wanted to take her away forever. And he'd keep her there with him, away from the world.

Call it cliche, but he was the polar opposite. He dragged his feet to a ditch that he made somewhere by the woods by a tree as his house. He'd watch her for days, working behind the counter as she sat on one of the tables everyday to study or draw, or do nothing at all.

She always stayed till closing.

With the same grey sweater wrapped onto her sleek frame, he'd never caught sight of her without the fabric. The mundane banana milk and chocolate bun in her hand that routinely slid over the counter.

A bit strange to eat the same thing everyday but he never uttered a word.

Never got her name.

Just saw a black bruise on her arm one day as her sweater rode up her arm where she distastefully yet hastily rushed to cover it up again.

Maybe that was what flipped the switch for him. He wanted to protect her, he decided swiftly. Striding over to the petite girl, he grabbed her hand and dragged her to his little fort.

Wondering a little that she wasn't frightened at all confirmed his suspicion.

"you're mine now."

Never dared to speak a word, she blinked back dazed. Then a smile peered through with a hearty nod.

She would go home with him after that day, everyday, only leaving for school in the morning and living with him the rest of the time.

She'd adored him, he thought, the way her eyes glimmered at him as he would say something was a major give away. He would always think of these and never voice them, just as she didn't.

She never spoke— he'd always ask about but to get no reply, on numerous occasions he'd try to get her to talk or say a word but she'd only smile and nod her head. Like a broken glass doll she stayed.

being touch starved, she peck a kiss or hang from his arm at her lean waist, feeling the bones often a time, but he chose to focus on making love to her than anything else.

With your rather delicate frame he'd be careful with his thick lather sliding the first thrust and would check up on you, seemingly now and then as he wrecked havoc inside her. It was a dangerous ordeal for her to swing around him for long.

She decided she had enough from this bizarre man and ran off one night as he snored lightly clutching onto the pillow, fooled it was her.

jay lived in an uncertain fit, a small dingy self built tree house per se. No real job or qualifications except the part time behind the counter. No economical stability but atleast he was mentally stable, he'd like to think.

That day he woke with an enormous rumbling and found her somewhere near the store and this time, he took her by hand lightly and back to his house. This time he'd give a kiss on the lips, licking her bottom lip and biting on her neck now and then.

"you know I love you," he said inbetween his kisses as he fiddled with his belt and swung it around her neck for her to hold, he'd think in his self monologue and continued on with his expression of love.

She loves me, she can never leave me.

Some day, on his way back an unambiguous day, he'd find a sweet smell coming from his adobe. He hurried past the unstable steps and barge the door open to find the place deserted and scurried into the only other room, his room.

He found her sat there, perched like an eagle with a listless expression. He smiled, his hand running through her coarse and tangled hair as he admired her deathly hollow face, her favourite sweater in shreds on the flooring that lay beside her.

"i brought you your banana milkshake and chocolate bun!" he added, placing them right beside all the other untouched packs and cartons of the items, some opened and rot, filling the foul air with its rancid smell. The stench of her rotting body was sweet to him. He pushed a smile to her unmoving, still body and laughed a little and whispered a soft "I love you"

All bad seemed good and all the good seemed bad to him, he was insane, psychotic, severely ill it whatever his family and friends called him. but that's okay. her opinion mattered the mos.

She loves him.

Jay loves her.

[thatpodcastkid]

Magnus Archives Relisten 11, MAG 11 Dreamer

If someone came to my place of work proclaiming they had a prophetic dream about my death I would simply believe them. RIP to Gertrude but I'm just built different ig.

MAG 11 analysis, spoilers ahead!

Facts: Statement of "Antonio Blake" regarding his dreams of Gertrude Robinson, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute (Head Archivist is another odd and foreshadowing usage of proper nouns in the transcript). Statement given March 14th, 2015.

Statement Notes: Oliver I love you but I also hate you so so much.

It's so strange relistening to this statement. On my first listen, I was very sympathetic to "Antonio." He was this innocent man who suddenly developed psychic abilities that tormented him. Even in 121 when he describes what he did on the voyage to Point Nemo, he seems to be driven by fear and desperation. But knowing what happens after Point Nemo and who he becomes in the Eyepocalypse, I wonder how much influence the power of the End had on him. As Jon develops his abilities, he becomes less confident in "normal" social situations, but more confident and stronger in dangerous horror-based scenarios. This seems true with Blake/Banks as well. He's very nervous as his abilities are developing when he tries to talk to Gertrude or Jennifer from Grifter's Bone. As he becomes more attuned with his abilities and gives in to his desires, he becomes more powerful, shown when he is strong and devoid of emotion enough to kill the actual Dr. Pritchard. He becomes strongest when he "gives in" to the End, being most clear and charming as he gives his statement in 121 and the Coroner's Report in 168. Just being able to track this change so clearly from this first statement to the last speaks not only to Jonny Sims skills for character development, but also the power of the Entities to draw out the worst in a person.

Blake describes his dream world as an "overexposed" or "washed out" photograph. The fading imagery was very profound and strong to me. Death is a fear, a horror represented by the black tendrils, but also a simple force of nature, slowly sucking life and color from all things. Unstoppable.

I don't know why I'm harping on this, but I can't understand why Blake's dreams always begin at the top of Canary Wharf. Does that come up again in the show? Is it personally significant to Blake?

Character Notes: I already got into Blake, so my other main character concern for this episode is Gertrude.

Did she ever see this statement?

Did she simply miss it? Was she busy and didn't get a chance to look at it before it was too late? Did she read it and attempt to prepare? She was smart. She knew which statements were real and which weren't. She would have understood what Blake was capable of. Did she attempt to prepare and defend herself but just couldn't manage it? Did Elias hide it from her? Did she read it and just accept the inevitable?

But of course, I have to bring up the Graham mention. I always thought the Graham/Oliver ship was just a fun fan thing, but I didn't realize Oliver had broken up with a Graham in cannon. Moreover, I didn't realize that it was confirmed to be Graham Folger until reading about the Season 5 Q&A when working on this post.

This raises an interesting point about original Graham. Blake describes having a mental breakdown due to his job, and Amy Patel describes her office job degrading her mental health as well. Is there something about Graham that attracts people losing their minds in an office? While it could be something spooky, I do understand why people stuck in mind-numbing careers would be drawn to someone with the time and resources to explore what he actually wants to do with his life, rather than what he has to do.

Entity Alignment: This is very clearly an End episode. I very much believe that, while he may not be the most powerful or dangerous avatar in the series, Oliver Banks was one of the most deeply connected to his entity. His psyche, his spirit, and his physical body were all so entrenched in death. It's interesting that there is no "inciting incident" that causes Graham to become an avatar of the End, as usually there is one event that acts as the root of an avatar's development. You could possibly argue it was his mental health breakdown, but that seems unrelated to death or anything associated with the End.

[writer-ann-artist]

Faerie!Reader x Targareyn Family

• Reader and Heleana being born twins, reader being the younger

• Heleana being born a dragon dreamer and reader being born a fae dragon

• Being born more fae than dragon, meaning your fire burns bright but not as hot

• Heleana not liking to be touched but never not holding reader

"My sweet girl, let your sister eat. She will not go anywhere, I promise."

"She will die without love, mother."

Alicent sighed, Heleana always said the same thing when her twin sister was brought up. As a mother she loved how close her daughters were to one another. As her children's protector she wanted them to be able live without the other before they are force to leave each other.

• Aegon not understanding his sister's but being their secret protector

Aegon couldn't sleep. Those little girls were evil he was sure of it. Heleana had accidentally scared a young girl with her bugs. Though Heleana did not know what she had done, she apologized with reader's help. Instead the girl took to name calling and picking on his sisters. Even going as far as to desuede a young boy from approaching the younger twin. Aegon stopped his pacing. He knew just how to get back at the unruly girl. The next morrow Aegon stood proudly as the rude young girl was crying over her wine covered gown. He had even convinced her to drink a glass or two before her ruined her gown. Thus lead to her parents scolding her for indulging in her cups.

• Aemond being dutiful to his sisters, walking them to and from studies and activities, walking through doors first so as to combat an attack, pulling out their chairs so they can sit comfortably

• Otto finally separating the twins when they each start their monthly blood

• Alicent, Aegon, and Aemond having to endure the heartbreaking cries from the twins

• Fae reader having such a small dragon they are considered without a dragon

Viserys feeling bad for his daughter as she blissfully trained with her tiny dragon. He could hear Otto's disapproval in his daughter, mumbling to his wife causing her to breath heavy. Viserys shakes his head to dislodge the negative thought. He was here to watch his children and there dragons. Aegon and Aemond spoke Valaryen with ease and perfect accent. Each word that was spoken clearly was given praise by his youngest daughter. She would give praise along with the chirps and purrs of her little dragon. The twins ended up sitting age snuggling with their dragons as the boys trained. Viserys often called his youngest daughter 'Faerie Targareyn' he thought it suited her very well. Not to mention how well she fit into the deceptions of his dreams. Dreams that started when he first became king. Dreams about the most enchanting creature, one who can mend broken thread, a creature who calm raging beasts, but also devour its enemies whole. He saw that creature in reader.

• Aegon not knowing if he lusts for you or just in general loves you

• Heleana spending every moment she can with her sister

• Aemond protecting his sisters with all he has

• Viserys telling his children stories because reader asked him to

• Alicent trying to do her children's hair only to find out how picky they are

• Jace talking to reader in Valaryen, cause that how her and her sister learned

• Luce helping reader and Heleana pick flowers for there moms

• Nyra seeing the dragon blood in reader therfore thanking the gods that Hightower blood wasn't too strong in her half siblings

• Deamon enjoyed his time feeding the dragons with reader, he found it pleasing to know that a gentle creature like her didn't flinch nor cry knowing another being had to die for another

• Otto being the only person who did not like reader, and viscera

Alicent struggled to carry reader as she hung limply in her arms.

"I don't understand you, my fae. It's just your grandfather."

"The ugly evil wasp does not help the rose grow."

"My sweet girl that does not help mum."

"It will." Heleana skipped ahead of her mother to join Luce. Alicent knew she shouldn't have mentioned her father. She looked down at her limp daughter know the scolding she will get for raising such a spoiled girl.

"If I didn't know better I'd say my little fae has died in my arms." Without getting a reaction Alicent leans on the wall and adjusts her grip. With a huff she begins tickling her daughter. Two breaths pass before her light but loud laughter fills the hall.

"Look at this a miracle! My little fae is alive and well." Alicent laughs with her daughter to they both need breath.