#nobody wins musical chairs

[hollowwhisperings]

Blackfyre Conquest: An Autumn King

i've struggled to find any Meta on how Young Griff's conquest will go, politically & logistically, that don't immediately interrupt themselves with "...but then Dany will show up with Dragons".

A lot of fans are very pro-Targaryen and pro-Conquest: a lot of Westeros would probably be on board too, though for less romantic reasons. No one "loves" the commander of a foreign army & Ned successfully rallied a Rebellion with very good reasons. The Targaryens were never entirely welcome in Westeros but the War of the Five Kings certainly made a "return to stability" with a Targ King an easier sell than it would have been earlier in the series. That this Targ King is non-incestuous, seemingly sane, has a sizeable Army, has multiple houses already sworn to him... and seems to be an Actual Politician? The Lords might frown at exactly "how" legitimate their King really is but, overall, "Aegon VI" would be vastly preferable to who Westeros has currently:

1) an increasingly unpopular Queen-Regent whose family Did The Red Wedding & whose claim rests on a toddler-king of Dubious Parentage.

2) a King who's lost his Lands to the foreign invader, has a Pet Witch (called his "true" queen) who burns people alive, has converted to a Foreign Religion (& burned religious sites), is a rumoured Kinslayer, and was Never Very Popular in the first place (Stannis doesn't take bribes, keeps insisting his disabled daughter is his Heir, went to help the Night's Watch for Some Reason, wasn't as fun as his brothers, makes poor conversation at parties, etc) .

3) Euron Greyjoy.

4) a theoretical infant child of King Robb of the North & Trident... and the Treacherous Jeyne Westerling whom he Lost a war over.

5) Robb's legal heir as per his last Will, his "brother" Jon whom he legitimised as "Stark" but is currently busy being the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch (it is unlikely that Jon's getting murdered by his men would be Advertised to the Realm & though Jon is almost certainly going to pull a Dany in WoW, he is currently a Ghost).

6) the allegedly sole surviving non-bastard Stark, Prince Rickon, who's spent the past few [books] entirely raised by [Freefolk] & is a toddler.

7) Some Targaryen Girl in Essos, last seen while... on fire & being abductes by her own dragon, apparently.

While most Lords will see Aegon's commanding the Golden Company as a Pretty Obvious allusion to his not actually being the miraculously surviving son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen & Princess Elia Martell. The "truth" of Young Griff's identity is pretty irrelevant to his successfully conquering Westeros (which seems very likely, give or take a Kingdom). Robert Baratheon's kingship was won by conquest: his grandmother being a Targaryen princess was an afterthought, an extra touch of "legitimacy". Tommen's claim to the Iron Throne is through his legal status as King Robert's surviving Heir. Stannis's claim is through the illegitimacy of Joffrey & Tommen's claims making him Robert's heir instead.

Aegon's claim to the Iron Throne is not actually his alleged parentage: it's through Conquest (the same would be true for Dany, Euron and any Heir of King Robb). Most Lords would see the Golden Company, famously founded to make a Blackfyre king, and conclude that Aegon is a Blackfyre Pretender: this is, in the short-term, irrelevant.

Some might rejoice at the alleged survival of one of Prince Rhaegar or Princess Elia's children: Targaryen Loyalists, the Dornish, smallfolk out of the loop on why there was a Rebellion. Ned Stark Loyalists would know Ned mourned for Princess Elia & her children, that Robert became King because Ned wasn't interested & be more concerned about Winter than how recently incestuous the latest Southron King's family tree may be.

As far as most of Westeros is aware [going into Winds], its Key Requirements for a Monarch are: being Alive & (ideally) Sane, being Old Enough to reign unsupervised (15 at minimum), having a loyal Army (see: Euronpocalypse, the Red Wedding, the lawlessness of the Riverlands), being Male, not being the immediate product of incest (Tommen aside, Prince Rhaegar only had 2 great-grandparents), not being a blasphemous arsonist, & not being in debt to the Iron Bank.

Robb Loyalists, those still surviving, would Wisely stand back and allow the Golden Company to deal with the Bolton-Lannister-Frey alliance: even if Jeyne Westerling is found alive & with an infant son, few would accept her and most would be unwilling to replace one child monarch with another (that applies to Rickon too). Northerners are proud but, as one of those Dead Starks might say, Winter is Coming.

The Wars over the series have made the southern land route impassable: the Twins are held by the treacherous Freys, the Riverlands are a lawless hellscape, King's Landing is run by Lannisters & Tyrells, and the Reach is itself "Tyrell Territory". With such a dangerous land route, the North relies on itself & seatrade. While the North does have eastern ports that allow trade with the Vale, the Vale itself is currently held by Petyr Baelish, publically aligned with the Lannister Regime. The North's primary port, White Harbour (held by Lord Wyman Manderly, known Stark Loyalist) is on its western coast, along the Narrow Sea. Euron & rogue Ironborn aside, Aegon's Armies have already seized Storm's End after coming across said sea. Having already seized Storm's End and with Aurane Waters' having Absconded with the Crown's Fleet that would guard the Blackwater... The Golden Company can comfortably blockade all traffic from Westeros to Essos (give or take a Lys). Even assuming Aurane Waters isn't in cahoots with Team Aegon (he's a Velaryon bastard), he took the Crown's fleet to the Stepstones and thus holds control over naval passage between the eastern & western coasts of Westeros (& to Dorne).

So, unless Sansa usurps control of the Vale from Baelish within the first third of Winds; unless Prince Doran or seadragons take out Aurane Waters' pirate fleet; unless the Golden Company's AND Euron's respective fleets get taken out without ANOTHER navy taking their place... Westeros really, really needs Aegon to successfully conquer Westeros if only to quickly reestablish vital trade routes for Winter.

Speaking of Euron's fleet and Trouble at Oldtown... there is Trouble At Oldtown and no one is equipped to keep it contained: on land, the sons of Lord Hightower have been taking the Ironborn threat seriously (with Lord Hightower seemingly having Anticipated the supernatural threat Euron seeks to invoke though how successful his & his daughter's Efforts may be remains Unknown); at sea, the Redwyne Fleet is Worried & very probably in Cahoots with Aegon. It will be a Trip, going back to sea from the Stormlands & then South to Oldtown, but a Redwyne-Velaryon-Blackfyre Naval Alliance is the Best and Geographically Closest forces available to Oldtown.

There are a few characters who've been sent to seek aid from Essos, given the Ironborn threat & the general political instability: Prince Quentyn was one (RIP) and Lord Hightower's youngest son, Ser Humfrey, is another. If the Hightowers weren't Team Aegon before, they soon will be.

The Reach is an increasingly vital kingdom to the survival of Westeros: with the Riverlands in the state it is & with the ongoing socio-economic fallout of Dany's very sudden conquests of half the Free Cities, The Reach is the most reliable source of food for the entire continent. That's part of why the impending Euronpocalypse is so Worrying to those otherwise removed from the Oldtown plotlines: Oldtown is one of the most important ports of Westeros, exporting grain from the Reach & importing goods from Essos.

Oldtown is also the Headquarters for the Citadel, where maesters are trained to: manage rookeries, the interkingdom communication system; learn histories, including those of long Winters past & who survived to give tips on Resource Management; and study medicine (to varying degrees of competency but Still).

The maesters are imperfect, often outright incompetent (as much by accident as by any potential Conspiracy): they're still the ones in control of the [telegram] network, the meteorologists, the ones able to not only access the historic archives but how to read them & any knowledge therein. It is certainly more helpful to have scholars than to not have scholars, especially with Winter nearing and many surviving Lordlings having known only Summer (& never educated on "How To Lord" due to how far down the line of succession they were before the Wars).

For those in Westeros who hold to the Faith of the Seven, Trouble At Oldtown would be an apocalypse all of its own: Oldtown is the centre of their Faith and its destruction would greatly demoralize persons of all stations, especially with increased Magical Activity and rumours of [fire zombies, ice zombies, wolf zombies, dragons].

Team Aegon seems the most likely to "contain" the Euronpocalypse, having both method (naval power) & means (the Golden Company, 4 kingdoms' worth of vassal lords) to do so. Aegon's also one of the few "primary" characters who would even know that there IS a Euronpocalpse: Team Aegon, Prince Doran, Queen Cersei, Lady Olenna, Lord Manderly, Asha's faction of Ironborn, the Reacherlords, the Iron Bank, & (probably?) Brynden Rivers are the only ones who could plausibly know of a Euron Threat, let alone organize a Timely Response to it. Regardless of how successful said Response may be, Team Aegon helping with Oldtown smooths the way for his becoming recognised as a Legitimate Leader for Westeros.

I'm fairly certain that Team Aegon will conquer (most of) Westeros over the course of Winds, I doubt he'll have the time to be crowned King or even spend time on a throne: he'll be too busy.

Aegon's Conquest being successful is Pretty Dang Important to the greater scheme of things: it will introduce Key Characters to each other (Arianne & Dorne, Sam & thus the NW, "Alayne" through Baelish, Team Oathkeeper through Jaime's controlling the Crown's armies); restore supply routes; "consolidate" power to enable discussion of Continental Threats long neglected (through both Regional & Interpersonal Conflicts). Aegon's Conquest would act as a kind of "triage" for Westeros, a quick means of uniting different groups (for & against him) and he won't actually need to sit the Iron Throne to do it. It is most likely that, after securing the Reach & Stormlands, Aegon will find that the Frey Civil War had "taken care of" the North & the Riverlands, with Robb Loyalists willing to Play Nice but (understandably, thinketh Aegon) wary of bending any knees. Dorne, regardless of Prince Doran's personal opinion on Aegon's identity, would act "compliant" due to Arianne's involvement & the Rocky Dornish having been in Cahoots with the Blackfyre Regime from the get go. Even a false Aegon would be preferable to a Lannister, as far as the North & Dorne are concerned. The Ironborn post-Euronpocalypse would go back to battling themselves internally, likely while facing heavy [sanctions]: they'd be too busy licking their wounds to be much of a threat to anyone.

That leaves three kingdoms: the Westerlands, cornered at all sides & bereft of much of its Leadership through Wars & the Frey Civil War; the Crownlands, King's Landing likely being besieged for Cersei to later blow up; and The Vale.

Who runs the Vale? The worst, most consistently dangerous backstabber of them all: Lord Petyr Baelish. It will probably be Baelish who undoes all that triage work Team Aegon started, likely via assassinating the kid or "exposing" him to the Right Wrong Crowd (whether Petyr has actual knowledge or evidence against Aegon is irrelevant: this is not his first Smear Campaign).

Assuming it hasn't happened already (in great tonal dissonance with the Euronpocalypse), Little Lord Robert Arryn would get his Tourney at the Gates of the Moon just in time for Aegon to secure his "final" kingdom.

The Frey Civil War would have affected the Vale just as it affected the rest of Westeros (Dorne excluded) but, from the clues I've found in the Vale & Darry-branches of Freys, it's likely that the Vale Freys will have fared better than every other branch of their extensive family tree, likely due to their joining the Aegon Bandwagon prior to Lord Walder's death.

Others have drawn parallels between what we know of "Alayne's'" Tourney and the historic Tourney of Ashford Meadow: essentially, the Tourney is implicitly tied to the themes & character arcs of both Sansa Stark (in the role of "Lord Ashford's 13 year old daughter", defending Queen of Love & Beauty) and Brienne of Tarth (in the role of her ancestor, Duncan the Tall: knightly but never technically Knighted underdog). The Ashford Tourney is best remembered for being the Introduction of Ser Duncan the Tall, a Sudden Trial of Seven, a quietly averted Blackfyre Rebellion, and the tragic death of the greatly beloved Crown Prince Baelon "Breakspear" (& Some Guy from House Hardyng).

Yeah. Dany doesn't even need to leave Essos: Aegon's doom will come courtesy of Thematic Parallels and Foreshadowing.

Prince Baelon "Breakspear" was a living representation of a Westeros at peace: he was the product of one of two political marriages that peacibly joined Dorne to the Seven Kingdoms (the Second Marriage featured one of those Princesses Daenerys); he was a Competent ruler, becoming his Father's Hand at age 26; his nickname was gained when he bested Ser Daemon Blackfyre (yes, THAT Blackfyre) at a tourney (the Wedding Tourney of his Aunt Daenerys); he had two adult sons, presumably with a wife (the sons are the only proof of her existence); and one of Baelon's sons was healthy enough to score 7 victories at the Ashford Tourney!

Which he. Uh. Very unexpectedly died at. Baelon, that is. The Crown Prince. The People's Prince. The Golden Child who promised a Peaceful & Prosperous Future. The son of a Targaryen prince & a Martell mother. A character who Very Strongly Reminds One Of Young Griff, the hopeful Aegon VI.

Aegon is likely to attend the Vale Tourney in order to diplomatically add the Vale to his collection of Kingdoms: Baelish is likely to trade [Sansa]'s betrothal with Harry the Heir for the Shinier Prince Aegon (whether he dissolves the existing betrothal via Having Harry Killed By Tourney or by outing Alayne as Sansa "Key to the North" Stark-Lannister, who was, btw, Spared the marriage bed bc Child Bride so Totally Eligible my dude just Sign Here).

Then Brienne will show up, probably with Jaime, and Some Kerfuffle will Ensue (if only because Sansa & Brienne are Alleged Kingslayers) that leads to Robert Arryn's Tourney becoming Brienne's Trial of Seven for Sansa's Innocence, just as Ser Dunk's defense of the (common) maiden Tanselle so changed the Ashford Tourney.

There is a Rather Formidable enemy of Young Griff whom I have only hinted at: allow me to combine the Clues.

There exists in the ASOIAF series a Certain Character who Knows More than they Should, who has an implied past connection with a young Euron Greyjoy, who is infamously opposed to Blackfyres, who was present for the Ashford Tourney, whose Past & Present can connect just about every active plotline in the series: a disappeared Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, a Hand to two Targaryen Kings & the Master of Whispers to more (with his "thousand eyes and one"), one of the three Great Bastards born to Lady Melissa Blackwood by King Aegon IV, and current tree-wizard mentor to an entirely separate Kingly-coded character.

Brynden Rivers.

If Aegon survives Euron, Cersei, Jaime, AND Baelish? He certainly won't survive Brynden. Whatever Brynden may be right now (tree abomination, Old God Hivemind, puppet king to Feyfolk, Bran Stark's lunch, the distant Blackwood cousin of every surviving Stark), there is no reason to believe Brynden would allow a Blackfyre to go unchallenged, especially in the guise of a "true" Targaryen.

(not that i believe Brynden hopes for a Targaryen Restoration via Dany or Jon: it very much appears that Brynden & the Singers are grooming Bran Stark for kingship, though where & who exactly they expect him to rule is still Unclear)

I hope to do more exploration into what Aegon [Blackfyre]'s Conquest might look like, cobbling together clues from Quentyn's Doomed Quest and Queen Marge's Court (as "microcosm' to the Reach in macrocosm) and historically Targaryen/Blackfyre loyalist Houses. I'm fairly certain I can figure out how the Aegon Conquest will play into the resolutions of the Frey Civil War, (some) Winterfell Conspiracies, the specifics of the Euronpocalypse, & my "Dornish Spring" Theory as well. I'm much less certain on how Stannis would fare against Aegon: would he demand Legitimacy? would he sic Melissandre on him? would Stannis Get Over Himself in service to the Looming Winter? would he even have a leg to stand on the matter?

And would Aegon survive long enough to meet Daenerys, let alone Argue Legitimacy with her? (They'd both be rulers by conquest, not inheritance & it's not like Dany has any backing for her identity beyond "I look traditionally Valyrian" and "these are some dragons i hatched from stone mid-resurrection". The layyer it should be noted, is considered a Death Magic-induced Miracle, not some Secret Targaryen Blood Limit: it's Unique to Daenerys Stormborn, not to "House Targaryen")

[hollowwhisperings]

The points made here for King Bran also work for King Jaime because, thematically, "King Jaime" theories hinge on Bran acting as his Kingmaker.

(for one thing, most everyone set up to inherit power in Spring has sufficient motive to execute Jaime even if he ends up redeeming himself)

"Kingmaker Bran" seems almost certain, regardless of Who Survives to get stuck ruling the other survivors:

King Bran would be his own Kingmaker, likely through Jojen (who could do this dead or alive because Greenseer);

Bran Stark, as the Honorable Ned Stark's [male] Heir, would hold CONSIDERABLE political authority as one of the sole surviving scions of the Great Houses: currently, there is 1 Arryn (who may be a bastard but is definitely Doom-coded); 1 officially alive Stark (who is actually Jeyne Poole); 3 Martells (Doran, Arianne & Trystane, all varyingly coded for Doom); 2 persons named Tully (4 if Fair Walda & her babe survive); 1 Casterly-Lannister (Jaime, Tyrion's in exile); 2 Baratheons (Stannis & Shireen, both Doom-coded); and many highly flammable Tyrells (Willas might survive, bc Themes, but most seem Doomed via location). Bran Stark showing up, all Alive and Male, would rally all the Lesser Lords to overlook their ableism because their sexism, xenophobia & recent regional politics have made Bran (and possibly Willas) the only Lord left "worth" following.

due to being Ned Stark (& Catelyn)'s son and his Surviving, Bran would be considered "impartial". If the taboo on magic is gone (or 180'd back to "religious reverence"), Bran being a Greenseer would give him additional clout.

any surviving Targaryens, Baratheons, Tyrells or Lannisters hoping for a crown would need the backing of a Stark, that "oldest" line of kingship & the Wardens of Winter, to not get shot down immediately by xenophobic and war weary Lords. Even assuming Dany or Young Griff are "genuine" Targaryens of Westeros, they still grew up in Essos and came back with Foreign Armies: they need a Local Kingmaker who ISN'T a living scandal.

That is to say, the geographic and thematic aspects of Harrenhal and of Kingship in the ASOIAF series REQUIRE Bran as a mediator for peace talks. Bran becoming King of Westeros is plausible because, by the time Spring arrives, Bran would basically be the last universally recognised "Authority": Bran is Male, Bran is of Legitimate Birth, Bran is a Stark, Bran is a Tully, Bran is a Whent, Bran SURVIVED (he should be dead at least 7 times over, and that's by CURRENT canon: he'll have survived even more by Springtime).

Bran's being disabled might even give him greater popularity, in a Great Springtime Council: Winter and years of War would give most survivors loved experience with disabilities, be it their own or that of those around them. Frostbite would steal bits and pieces from all across the social strata; the Winter/Eldritch conditions would result in greater risks when Traveling or Fleeing; everyone would have seen battle or those wounded by it; Burns would be fairly common too, be it from rushed funerals or wights, from accidents in the Cold & Dark, via proximity to dragons or red priests... can people survive Wildfyre burns? There's going to be a lot of arson just in general, in a setting that is highly flammable & where arson is a common plot device).

In a post-apocalyptic Westeros, Bran's disability would merit very little offense... unless he gets Outed as infertile or something but, with so few survivors amongst the nobility due to War & after an apocalyptic Winter, even infertility wouldn't oust Bran from wielding authority because traditional succession by that point is all but impossible (women, children & disabled men get Power because Everyone Else Is Dead).

Willas and Doran, assuming they survive, would be more receptive to anything Bran proposes through their sharing the lived experience of being Men Disabled "Non-Heroically" : that's 2 out of 7 Lords Paramount in Bran's Camp; Bran is related to another 3 (assuming he isn't himself a Lord); Jaime Lannister is very much In Debt to the Starks and Bran most of all (assuming Tyrion isn't on Trial or otherwise barred from politics, he'd side with Bran out of Lannister Debt &/or Solidarity); and not one Baratheon, legitimate or otherwise, would survive to see Spring without At Least 1 Stark lending their support.

Stannis & Shireen Baratheon are currently in Stark Territory, Jon's specifically, and neither of them are held highly in regard: their survival & political authority is contingent on Northern goodwill, gained via Jon's vouching for them, and Melissandre Being Scary (Stannis has guards & a small army but, like, this is The North in Winter and they're surrounded by Free Folk: he's screwed without Jon and his whole political campaign was built on Ned Stark's Word).

The Baratheon Bastards (Mya, Edric and Gendry) already owe their lives to Jon Arryn & Ned Stark: Cersei had every other half-sibling killed. It's unlikely any of the Bastards would "survive" getting Legitimized (Mel sees them as Fuel; any wartime "rewards" by Heirs Claimant, Lannister or Targaryen or Otherwise, would be a political landmine waiting to happen; they're all in areas of active conflict, where their parentage could get them killed if known, and having a Stark Sister to namedrop could save (or kill) them.

So. "Kingmaker Bran" is not only thematically appropriate, it's also a political necessity: post-Winter Westeros may be more accepting of women holding power but Bran's legitimate birth, his gender and his "political neutrality" leaves him as the Least Hated Lord in any given council of lords.

So if Bran Stark wants the Lords to hold a Great Council at Harrenhal, the surviving Lords of Westeros are going to have a Great Council at Harrenhal. If Bran Stark thinks that Claimant X is Unfit for rule, Claimant X is Unfit For Rule. If Bran Stark think that Kingship of Westeros is a Just Punishment, and if Bran Stark, the person Most Wronged Party by Prisoner A, thinks Kingship to be a Just Punishment for said Criminal? All Hail Prisoner A, First of Their Name!

Bran can achieve all the above just by Showing Up to a Great Council and Passing Two-Factor Identification: any personal Heroics to his name or Epic Feats by those of (or in service to) his House would only add further credibility to his being Bran Stark, eldest surviving son of Ned Stark.

Any Tree Wizardry Bran may retain is superfluous to the politics of his simply being Bran Stark in a setting where everyone else is dead, female, foreign &/or a war criminal. Bran Stark, Tree Wizard, calling everyone out to Harrenhal for peacetalks is a logical progression of his story as a Greenseer, a person of Destiny, the eldest surviving son of Catelyn & Ned.

(let's just hope that when Bran Stark does his Kingmaking, the only Wizarding he does is with Trees and Animal Familiars rather than Tree-People or Hodor: a hivemind police state like that of Brynden Rivers' Westeros would be more "Nightmare" than "Dream". Hopefully Jojen will show up, ideally Alive, to yell at his Prince in time for Bran to be mid-Atonement Arc when he learns what's become of Jon Snow, Winterfell, his sisters & Rickon.)

Harrenhal will be the new seat of what’s left of the Seven Kingdoms at the ending.

I know a few people have already said bits and pieces of this but I wanted to get everything in one post for my own sanity lmao. There’s three kind of main branches to this theory: geographical reasons, historical reasons, and reasons specific to King Bran theories.

Geography surrounding Harrenhal

It’s the center of everything! Let me show you on the map because i’m a visual learner:

Ignore the North and Dorne and probably the Iron Islands too, bc the first two are not gonna be part of The Seven Kingdoms anymore and the Iron Islands is…gonna be a fucking mess lmao. Lemme zoom in:

It’s a very centralized point in the Riverlands but it’s also fairly centralized to the Crownlands (which will probably get absorbed into the others), the Stormlands, the Eyrie, the Reach, and the Westerlands. It makes sense, from a geographical standpoint, that if the lords need to choose a new ruling seat - and they will no matter what, because King’s Landing is gonna go boom - that a more centralized location for easier access to the capital would be their decision.

The Riverlands is also an excellent choice in general because geographically, they are always getting screwed due to being right in the middle of everyone. They get fucked during the Dance, the Blackfyre Rebellions, Robert’s Rebellion, AND the War of the Five Kings. The only area that really gets screwed over more during the various wars is probably the Dornish Marches, because of the conflicts between the stony Dornishmen and the Storm and Reacher Lords but you can’t really set up there because it’s too far from the Eyrie and Riverlands.

And the thing about the Riverlands is that part of why it gets fucked up is that it’s right in the middle of everything and has no natural defenses. The Eyrie has the mountains, the North has their snow, the Dornish has their desert. The Reach manages to stay out of a lot of fighting because that’s where the food is (although the Iron Islands are about to screw them, but that’s because the war has spiraled out of control) and while both the Stormlands and the Westerlands have seen big battles, they have some protection in their coasts, which gives them ships that the Riverlands just can’t quite access. Having the King set up in the Riverlands gives the smallfolk of the Riverlands some much needed protection and potentially, a break from all the fighting.

So the Riverlands is a good place to set up shop, but Harrenhal specifically? Well, that’s because it’s huge:

Every child of the Trident knew the tales told of Harrenhal, the vast fortress that King Harren the Black had raised beside the waters of Gods Eye three hundred years past, when the Seven Kingdoms had been seven kingdoms, and the riverlands were ruled by the ironmen from the islands. In his pride, Harren had desired the highest hall and tallest towers in all Westeros. Forty years it had taken, rising like a great shadow on the shore of the lake while Harren's armies plundered his neighbors for stone, lumber, gold, and workers. Thousands of captives died in his quarries, chained to his sledges, or laboring on his five colossal towers. Men froze by winter and sweltered in summer. Weirwoods that had stood three thousand years were cut down for beams and rafters. Harren had beggared the riverlands and the Iron Islands alike to ornament his dream. And when at last Harrenhal stood complete, on the very day King Harren took up residence, Aegon the Conqueror had come ashore at King's Landing.

If it’s going to be the capital, it has to be somewhere that can hold a whole lot of people and Harrenhal is ginormous and perfect for holding lots of people. It’s even happened before; part of why Lord Whent stages his big tourney where Lyanna is crowned queen of love and beauty is because likely because Ser Oswell Whent, his brother on the Kingsguard, asked him to stage an excuse to get all the Lords together so Rhaegar could discuss with them what to do about his father and Harrenhal is the biggest castle they can do that in outside of King���s Landing. From The Kingbreaker chapter:

Old Lord Whent had announced the tourney shortly after a visit from his brother, Ser Oswell Whent of the Kingsguard. With Varys whispering in his ear, King Aerys became convinced that his son was conspiring to depose him, that Whent's tourney was but a ploy to give Rhaegar a pretext for meeting with as many great lords as could be brought together.

It’s also built up to be sturdier than King’s Landing. Whereas King’s Landing was kind of haphazardly thrown together as it built up over the years, Harren the Black had always meant for a lot of people to be housed there. We see how many people can live in it during Arya’s chapters as she runs around inside of it and Harrentown and this is with a ruler who has no interest in keeping a lot of people in it. With a King or Queen living there, it opens itself up to growing in a much more easily defensible way than King’s Landing.

Historical Reasons Harrenhal is Significant

As you can see on the map, it’s built right on the edge of a very important place: The Isle of Faces and the lake that surrounds it, called the Gods Eye.

It’s a key place for the history of Westeros because it’s where the First Men and the Children of the Forest made peace:

Inexorably, the war ground on across generations, until at last the children understood that they could not win. The First Men, perhaps tired of war, also wished to see an end to the fighting. The wisest of both races prevailed, and the chief heroes and rulers of both sides met upon the isle in the Gods Eye to form the Pact…

It’s also notable for being the only place the Andals never managed to conquer:

It is possible that a few [Children of the Forest] survived on the Isle of Faces, as some have written, under the protection of the green men, whom the Andals never succeeded in destroying.

It’s a place associated with peace and negotiations between people, a place to stand strong against war and untouched by its horrors. A monument to what could be, if you will. And Harrenhal sits on its shore; it would add a very rich layer to setting up King’s Landing in a place associated with peace. And this isn’t the only time a succession crisis of sorts is settled there. The Great Council of 101 AC was held there.

To resolve the matter of his heir once and for all, Jaehaerys called the first Great Council in the year 101 AC, to put the matter before the lords of the realm. And from all corners of the realm the lords came. No castle could hold so many save for Harrenhal, so it was there that they gathered. The lords, great and small, came with their trains of bannermen, knights, squires, grooms, and servants. And behind them came yet more—the camp followers and washerwomen, the hawkers and smiths and carters. Thousands of tents sprang up over the moons, until the castle town of Harrenton was accounted the fourth largest city of the Realm.

Once again, we have Harrenhal associated with peace and negotiation in its history. However, that’s not all it’s associated with; there are several very significant battles that take place near the Gods Eye - again, it is in the middle of everything. It’s a place with lots of history and lots of ties to everyone in Westeros. There’s the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye between Maegor and Aegon the Uncrowned, The Battle of the Lake Shore and The Battle Over the Gods Eye during the Dance, as well as the story of Addam Velaryon landing Seasmoke on the Isle of Faces to take counsel from the green men after being accused of treason. It is, all in all, a very significant place in Westeros.

But that’s not the only reason Harrenhal is talked about. Basically every single time Harrenhal is brought up, someone will mention that it’s haunted. This belief comes because of Aegon the Conquerer and Harren the Black. While Orys Baratheon and Rhaenys march for the Stormlands & Daemon Velaryon and Visenya left for the Vale, Aegon himself first turns towards Harren the Black and the Riverlands. All three face opposition but Aegon conquers the Riverlands first because Harren is so ill loved:

So now the riverlands rose against him, led by Lord Edmyn Tully of Riverrun. Summoned to the defense of Harrenhal, Tully declared for House Targaryen instead, raised the dragon banner over his castle, and rode forth with his knights and archers to join his strength to Aegon’s. His defiance gave heart to the other riverlords. One by one, the lords of the Trident renounced Harren and declared for Aegon the Dragon. Blackwoods, Mallisters, Vances, Brackens, Pipers, Freys, Strongs … summoning their levies, they descended on Harrenhal.

And he makes very quick work of Harrenhal, making it the first Kingdom to become part of the Seven Kingdoms:

The riverlords outside the castle walls said later that the towers of Harrenhal glowed red against the night, like five great candles … and like candles, they began to twist and melt, as runnels of molten stone ran down their sides.

Ever since the burning of Harrenhal, no House has been able to hold it without going extinct soon after. For House Targaryen’s rule in Westeros to start with Harren the Black’s hubris and the fall of Harrenhal, and end with Harrenhal becoming the new seat of the King of the Four (??) Kingdoms is a really neat connection.

Reasons Why It Works With King Bran

But wait! you say. Didn’t you just say that Harrenhal is cursed??

Why yes I did. HOWEVER. There is one family that the Curse of Harrenhal supposedly never touched: The Whents.

You see, from Harren the Black up until the Whents, every other House in charge of it has gone extinct.

House Hoare? That’s Harren’s house and we all know what happened there - they don’t call him Balerion the Black Dread for no reason.

House Qoherys? Dead less than three decades later.

House Harroway? Wiped out a decade later.

House Towers? died out within two decades, ending with sickly Maegor Towers and then old and tired Rhaena Targaryen, until the two odd friends died and the holdings were free again.

House Strong? Well…between the fire that kills Harwin and Lyonel, Larys’ shenanigans getting him merced by Cregan, and Aemond just straight committing a minor genocide in the Riverlands, they all died out (except maybe Alys Rivers’ baby but we don’t have any info there).

House Lothston? Interestingly, they hold the castle for several decades, but they too went completely extinct under King Maekar.

So we come to House Whent. They’ve held it for about 6 ish decades and though they’ve also had some bad luck, they’ve had their people grow old - Walter Whent who threw the tourney is called “Old Lord Whent” by Barristan, and Shella Whent is old when she dies. But the most interesting thing is Minisa Whent.

We don’t know a lot about the Whent line, only that Shella refused to bend the knee to Joffrey, fled Harrenhal when it was attacked, and later died. You could say the curse still got them but in every other case, the whole line dies, not just the main line! Even Janos Slynt has no descendants and Littlefinger will have none to inherit either. But the Whents do: they have House Tully. Minisa Whent married Hoster Tully and had Catelyn and Edmure. The Whents are known for their sharp cheekbones and both Catelyn and Sansa, funny enough, are described as having sharp cheekbones. This very close relation could mean that the Starklings have a claim to Harrenhal through their mother.

This fits with King Bran because we know the lords are perfectly fine fudging things and going through the female line if it fits their needs. They did the same thing with Robert and his grandmother Rhaelle Targaryen, who married Ormund Targaryen, Steffon’s mother. Renly says here:

Oh, there was talk of the blood ties between Baratheon and Targaryen, of weddings a hundred years past, of second sons and elder daughters. No one but the maesters care about any of it.

The maesters love a loophole inheritance.

And remember that the odds of surviving the books for the Baratheons and Targaryens is very, very low. It’s pretty much just bastards all the way down (on both sides lmao, because I do not think either Young Griff or Dany are gonna survive). And whenever the inheritance isn’t clear, a Great Council is called. Catelyn even suggested it while parlying with the Baratheons:

Let the three of you call for a Great Council, such as the realm has not seen for a hundred years. We will send to Winterfell, so Bran may tell his tale and all men may know the Lannisters for the true usurpers. Let the assembled lords of the Seven Kingdoms choose who shall rule them.

Mentioning Bran, of course. A lot of people think it’s far fetched and while I do think him being so young is gonna be a hard sell now that the time jump is gone, I don’t think it’s that far fetched that the lords of the Stormlands, The Reach, the Eyrie, and The Westerlands would be convinced to choose Hoster Tully’s grandson and Ned Stark’s baby boy to rule over them.

And finally, Robb wasn’t called “Robb Stark, King in the North” he was also explicitly called “King of the Trident.” All the talk about who is Robb’s heir but look at how they all think of themselves - “as brave as Robb” “as strong as Robb” or they’ll have sons and name them Robb. Whereas Who Rules The North is all tied up in Robb’s legacy, the Iron Throne isn’t! If King Bran rules from the Riverlands, however, it gives Bran that tie to Robb; he gets to protect and rule from the lands Robb swore to protect, the lands he ultimately fought and died in. For Bran, he still gets to be Robb’s heir, at least in spirit, and I think that would be, to Bran, something very bittersweet.

[allurilove]

Yan!Prodigy x Rival you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: enemies to lovers?— not really he falls in love pretty quick, first time kissing, stalking, admitting his feelings, he gets excited by the tiniest sight of skin, he’s delusional, gender neutral reader.

*I played violin for a couple of years, but my knowledge is a bit dusty and it’s been awhile 😬 And sorry for not posting! I’ve been busy with studying for the SAT! He is referred to as “your enemy” and this is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: He’s been on the top of his game for years. He’s known as the most talented violinist, and his ability to play has brought people to tears. All until you came along and threatened his legacy.

He was upset and furious that a nobody like you could win the spot of the first chair. You were now the center of attention, and not him. He wanted to break you down.

But… why did he find himself yearning for you?

He’s been practicing for years. He spent his whole life dedicating to the art of music. His fingers have been numb before, his wrist hurt, and he’s been staring at music sheets for so long— that everything looked like notes to him.

He’s been the first chair. He climbed his way to the top, he earned his reputation, and everyone admires him.

So, a little and measly talent like you shouldn’t have been in his spot. He had to audition for that seat—just like everyone else— but he knew that the directors loved him the moment he stepped on the stage.

He created masterpiece after masterpiece, and he’s a well sought out man.

He heard murmurs and whispers as he sat down behind you. He could feel everyone look at you with fascination, and admiration. He scowled and his grip on the neck of the violin was tight. He imagined ripping you out of the chair, or shoving his bow down your throat.

He had a steely gaze as you turned around to look at the person who had been glaring daggers at you. You smile at him, feeling a bit bad that you’re a newbie who took his usual position.

Why was his heart beating?

“Dont look at me.” The man scowled at you. His face slowly turning pink, and he looked away as you turned to face him again.

For the first time ever, he was distracted. As the show began he could hear his mistakes. He felt his hand shake, and he accidentally pressed down too hard on the string- causing an eerie squeaking noise. He looked up to see what you were doing and you are confident, each note of yours is perfect, and you were clearly the better choice. His eyes slowly widened as he became hypnotized by the way you moved, and the way your hand was so nimble.

“…fuck.” He was falling in love. That has never happened to him before. His body is filled with warmth, his heart fluttered, and he felt like he could float on the wave of happiness. For the first time ever— he felt alive.

The person next to him gently kicked at his chair, and he snapped out of it. He looked back at the sheet, and he realized he lost his place. His eyes and ears frantically tried to figure out where they were.

The show was a nightmare. He got chewed out for the very first time, and he hung his head low. He made multiple mistakes, made a mockery of the whole orchestra, and organization. He apologized to everyone, and he seethed at how people thought he was slipping.

You were the only one to approach him. Your enemy threw his jacket on, ready to leave, but he paused when he saw you.

“Hey… I’m sorry-“

He raised a hand to stop you. “It’s not your fault.” He said curtly, and he grabbed his instrument case. He brushed past you, and quickly made it out of the building. He had to stop and take a breather- leaning on the wall as he felt red cheeks. He always felt a rush of adrenaline and excitement when you came close to him.

That’s when the stalking began. I mean it was a total accident, and he didn’t mean to find your apartment… he just happened to know it was yours, because of the way the melodic sound came from the window. He was across the street, and he was able to see you sway, and play with such emotion. He stood there for what felt like years, and he started to film you.

He would rewatch them at night in his bed. A huge smile on his face as he was able to relive that moment. Before he knew it… he kissed the screen.

He came to practice early in the morning. Your enemy had to keep up a cool facade, and he ignored your little “hello” to him. He sat in his chair, feeling a bit bitter, but he knew it was well deserved. You’re a good violin player, and he was coming to terms with it. He sighed as he brought his instrument out of the case, he took out his tuner, and he started to tune his instrument. He fiddled with the fine tuners, and eventually adjusting the pegs when that didn’t work.

The whole entire time… he glanced at you. His heart swelled up as he saw you take off your jacket, and he gulped as he saw your shoulders.

Ohhh god.

He slightly groaned as his pants felt tighter.

He heard the peg creak, his fingers mindlessly kept turning and turning. He gasped as the string he was trying to tune snapped, he felt it hit his cheek, and out of surprise he dropped his violin.

He was so embarrassed as you helped him get an ice pack. You two were in the tiny hallway, an ice pack in your hand. Instead of handing it to him, you placed it on his cheek for him. You made him feel better, told a little joke about what happened and he let out a chuckle.

He saw you smile and step closer to him. Was this seriously happening? He immediately kissed you back as you pressed against him, one arm around your waist and the other on the back of your head. You tasted wonderful.

He started to moan out your name, your hand now down his pants, and he arched his back. His hands then gripped at the brick wall, his hips jerked with the movement, and he felt his orgasm coming pretty close.

He felt you pull down his pants and boxers, and you got down onto your knees, and your tongue stuck out to lick his length.

“God, I love you—“ He pants, his stomach tightening as his arousal grew.

“Hello?”

Hello?

His eyes came back to focus on your hand waving in his face. He gulped as he took a step back. You were confused as to what happened, you tried to speak to him, but it looked like he was lost in his thoughts. His face was flushed and he was murmuring incoherent things.

The man quickly snatched the ice pack and he panicked— his dick twitching— and he ran away from you.

Allure: It’s a pretty short fic, unedited, and i wrote this on my break 😭 yandere x zombie part three should be coming soon.

[vervainandspritz]

DANCE WITH ME, SHELBY

Word count: 2,4k

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, Tommy is a silly goose, blood, injury

INTERACT WITH THE STORY PLEASE

***

How could it get that bad? That one sentence filled his head to the brim, causing a hellish headache. Staring at the ceiling in the small room in the back of the building, just a wall separating the frustrated man from the chaos in the Garrison. Blue eyes, usually sharp and focused, now glancing all around, internally looking for that one moment where he pushed her too far.

A race of thoughts caused an annoying gnawing at his insides, going back to all the situations he could have used to… speak up, but he didn't. His foolish ego wouldn't let him live that down.

The music was so loud he could hardly analyse, but he successfully brought in the sight of Y/N dancing in a Peaky boys’ arms.

If only he didn't ruin it back then, Thomas groaned. Running a hand through his hair, he set the cap on a table before returning to the main room.

Straightening his back and looking around, Tommy noticed his brothers dancing between all the drunk people, cheering happily and laughing obnoxiously, just like they always did when there was a reason to celebrate.

The Garrison wasn’t normally a place for song and dance, but after the victory at the races, Thomas made an exception for his men.

Winning races was a big thing in Birmingham, no matter whether the races were fixed or not. Nobody would dare to ask anyway.

Among other people sitting by the bar, he spotted her. The woman so unforgettable, that there wouldn't be a day when he wouldn't think of her.

The sound of the door slamming shut went unnoticed by the loud crowd as he made his way to the bar. Several chairs away from Y/n Thomas took his seat, letting out a quiet sigh as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey that Harry instinctively set on the counter in front of him. Pouring a generous amount he nodded towards Y/n, and the bartender immediately got the right idea, pouring her a glass as well.

Tommy planned on watching her reaction closely, but to his surprise she knocked it back without missing a beat, making him raise his eyebrows.

Harry nodded proudly seeing the same scene unfold, before turning around and serving other people.

Usually at least a couple of guests would line up to him by then, but Thomas’ horrendous mood was hanging in the air like a thundercloud, warning off anyone who would think of coming around. Taking advantage of the relative solitude he let his mind spiral down the familiar way.. again.

~~

“What happened!” Polly gasped, slamming the door shut behind her, seeing Thomas and Y/n make their way through the small living room. Blood dripped from the boy's nose, bloodying the already dirty carpet.

“I'll explain, I promise!” Y/N yelled from the bathroom before another slam of the door could be heard. Sitting him on the stool, Y/n tried to breathe steadily just to not start sobbing again. Her knees burned like hell, but she couldn't live down the way Tommy's face looked.

“I'm sorry” she said, shaking her head while reaching for a towel, and dipping it into the small amount of alcohol she had. Her hands were shaking, and so was her voice.

“Y/n” he said, but when she didn't react, his hand grasped her smaller one, holding it for a moment until she looked into his eyes. “It's okay, nothing big happened.” He tried to convince, smiling in a silly way despite his bloodied nose and a black eye. “C’mere” Tommy added after she shook her head, pulling her in for a tight hug. “It's okay, I'm fine, I promise. I didn't want them to hurt you, and I succeeded, like a man, yeah?” His voice soothed her slowly, just like his hand rubbing up and down her back. After a long minute she pulled back, nodding lightly as she held his head, cleaning up the cuts.

Tommy didn't say a word for another few minutes, just watching her face as she worked her magic until her cheeks turned bright pink. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke up.

“I'll be ugly for a while now.” Was enough to make her chuckle, and like always, Tommy's laugh followed right after.

“Thank you,” she said. “For saving me and… and being so fearless.” Y/n added shyly, not used to them saying all these nice things to each other.

Thomas shook his head with a breathless chuckle, before looking down.

“I wasn't fearless,” he confessed, making her raise her eyebrows in surprise. “After all, have you seen them? And me? I'm… short.” He chuckled and she immediately followed. “But I couldn't let them hurt you, no matter what.”

“You're not short! You're taller than me!” she argued with her cheeks all red.

“You're a girl, Y/N.” He pointed out, grabbing her hips as she started giggling some more, the gauze on his face shaking along with her arm. A comfortable silence fell between them for a couple moments, before he got up, standing right in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, Thomas ran a hand through his hair.

“Will you kiss me for bravery or am I too ugly for it now?” he asked, trying to appear even more confident with a smile still plastered onto his face, ready for a rejection… that never happened. Y/n nodded at him with a smile as she reached for his cheeks, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips against his in a sweet kiss.

“Take me on a date. To the cinema. Tomorrow.” She decided as soon as they parted, looking at him with big, round eyes and Tommy couldn't help but nod, with his face completely red.

“Okay”

~~

After another two glasses sent her way, Thomas chuckled under his breath, eyeing the glass in his hand, when suddenly another hand pulled it out of his grasp. As fast as it disappeared, a feminine hand slammed an empty glass on the counter.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Shelby?” Y/N asked, coming into his view as she leaned on the counter, eyeing him with a serious expression.

“You were drunk before I stepped foot into the Garrison, eh?” he replied, turning around and facing her fully.

“Hardly” she said, tilting her head to the side as she noticed his hardened expression. “What's got you so down, boss? I thought we're celebrating tonight.” Y/N asked half seriously, gesturing to Harry for another bottle.

“Business as always” he responded, lighting a cigarette and offering her one. She only shook her head, leaning forward and pulling the cigarette out of his lips instead. Tommy kept looking at her, not caring enough to light another one. Just drinking in the sight of her eyeing him like that.

Only after a moment he looked away, glancing into the crowd with a barely audible sigh. Y/n knew him long enough to be able to tell how troubled he was feeling at the moment.

“Come on, Shelby.” She said, swiftly slipping off the counter and grabbing his hand. “You're gonna dance with me” Tommy immediately started shaking his head but didn't let go of her hand even for a moment.

“I don't dance, Love.” He replied in a hoarse voice, but Y/n wouldn't take a “no” for an answer when it came to dancing. Tommy somewhat reluctantly stood and let Y/N lead him to the dancefloor. The music was an energetic tempo leaving little to no space on the dancefloor between dancing, drunk people. Y/n led him through the crowd right into the middle of chaos, to ensure he wouldn't leave at any given moment.

By the time they weaved through the crowd, the celebratory song ended and the musicians played a sweeter slow song.

Hearing it, Tommy looked at her with eyebrows raised, making her giggle.

“Too late to change your mind now. Embrace me, Shelby.” She said sternly, in a joking manner.

Thomas didn't need much more convincing, the thought of getting to hold her was enough of an incentive. Stepping forward, Tommy pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her hip, keeping some distance between them for her comfort. She, however, closed the distance between them. Their bodies pressed together, moving in the rhythm. It came much more naturally than either of them would expect. As the music got more sensual, their senses became sharper. His big calloused hands kept her in a firm hold, leading her through the dance just right. Tommy felt suddenly a little more drunk than ever, taking in consideration that he had just two glasses of whiskey. The scent of her skin, her hair, the sweet flowery notes clinging to her skin made him want to get even closer. Closer than physically possible. Forget the alcohol, it was her he was truly intoxicated by.

Y/n could feel how heavy his breathing got, as he slowly let go of her hand, both hands wrapping around her hips and keeping her close. She leaned forward, both hands on Tommy's chest which made her feel even more… dizzy. His heart was beating even harder than hers. That was until he stepped forward again, and her face almost settled in his neck. The best part of the song came on, and the tension between them was palpable. Their breaths grew shallow and Thomas felt like he might explode if she didn't look him in the eyes just then.

Pulling back, he leaned down causing his nose to brush against hers, and as soon as Tommy's warm breath touched her lips, the song suddenly ended.

So did the moment, because Y/N immediately sobered, taking a step back and letting go of his touch.

Thomas could see the slightly panicked look in her eyes.

“Y/N” he started out, shaking his head lightly but she took another step back.

“Thanks for the dance, Shelby.” She replied, before turning around and pushing her way through the crowd towards the exit.

“Bloody hell” He hissed under his breath, trying to follow her as quickly as possible. It took him a longer moment, but Thomas finally burst through the door, immediately looking around and finding Y/N walking towards Small Heath.

“Y/N!” He yelled, going after her. For some reason it felt like an important moment which Tommy couldn't afford to fuck up. “Y/N, wait!”

Y/N kept walking, not paying attention to his shouting. Had he taken it too far with their almost kiss? She had kept drawing nearer to him throughout the dance, because the pull was impossibly strong, yet she couldn't bring herself to move past… that.

“Y/N!” He yelled, being mere metres away before finally a strong hand grasped her shoulder, making her turn around. He prepared a few words to say, but all of them disappeared from his head as soon as he saw her teary eyes.

“Why? Why didn't you come back then? I waited for you, Tommy, and you didn't show up.” She immediately said in a vulnerable voice, unable to keep it in any longer. “I was preparing for three hours to look pretty for you!” She was taking short breaks to sniffle quietly, and he tried to find words, but as always in such situations, it was difficult. Y/N had held onto the heartbreak of being stood up by him for years. The only man she could never hold at arm's length, making her feel so foolish. As he tried to stutter out an explanation, “and… and I..” Y/n started out, but got suddenly cut off by his voice.

“He took my fucking money!” He hissed out, pacing back and forth. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his hair while Y/N got… confused.

“What? Who?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed. Only then did he stop right in front of her.

“Finn” He replied, looking into her eyes with his own eyes wide. “Back then… fuck, I was saving for that moment, alright? Times were fucking tough and… and I wanted to go!” He said loudly, rubbing the side of his jaw with frustration. “But this little bastard didn't leave me a single fucking penny! Took all the money and I couldn't show up in my old, worn down clothes and then… not take you anywhere! Not YOU, Y/N! Fuck!” He gave up on trying to talk calmly, the old frustration and annoyance coming back to the surface. “..and then, then you left Birmingham for a while, and i had no fucking clue how to come back from what happened. What to do or say. I was… I was ashamed.”

Y/N remained silent for what felt like eternity which was probably less than a minute. Thomas sighed deeply, bracing for harsh words as he came up, grabbing her chin and tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

“I'm sorry, Love.” He added, when suddenly… she burst out giggling, making him cock an eyebrow in surprise. Only then did she manage to reply between the sniffles and giggles.

“You're an incredibly silly man for a gang leader, Thomas.” She started out, and then.. he knew it would be okay. “If you came wearing a bloody potato sack and wanted to sit under a tree and talk, I would be the happiest girl in the fucking world!” She exclaimed loudly, pushing him lightly. “I never cared about what you wore or where we went, bloody hell, I was following you everywhere! Because I wanted to be around YOU, and that's all that mattered, Tommy.” Her hand covered his much bigger one, eyes becoming more shiny as she spotted the little grin on his face.

“I panicked. I can't explain how sorry I am, Love.” He added, his hand caressing her cheek while his softened gaze remained on her eyes. “I thought about you every single day. Not a thing ever changed for me.” He confessed with a heavy heart.

Y/n became quiet for a moment again before her fingers grazed his reddened, cold cheek.

“You look like you've seen a ghost.” She eventually said, making him chuckle as she pushed his hair away from his eyes.

Thomas took a final step forward, his face mere inches away from her own.

“Well… am I too ugly for a kiss then?”

“Shut up, Shelby.” She sneered, pulling him into a deep but sweet kiss. One she waited for so long, too long.

[hwasoup]

Tale As Old As Time

Playlist !!

art credit: Marbipa

OMG GUYS IM SOSOSO SORRY FOR SUCH A DELAY, COLLEGE REALLY DEVOURED ME IN THE MOMENT. AND TUMBLR REMOVED THE OPTION TO MAKE THE TEXT YELLOW...SO THE COLOR WILL NOW BE ORANGE. However, this is a double update week bc I owe you guys bc of your amazing patience with me!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter

like always don't hesitate to lmk if you would like to be tagged:')

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warnings: talking objects, borderline assault, Canis Lupus

word count: 3.3k

Chapter 4: Dinner is served

However, in the village’s small tavern….

“UGH, WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS ?!” 

“Uhh Ben, chill out here you’re drunk.” Eddie says, while trying to take away his beer. Ben looks at Eddie extremely furious and annoyed “So? don’t you see that- that woman has messed with the wrong MAN ?!!” Eddie winces at his words a little and says “erm…. sure…let's say that she did.” Ben, who was moping in front of the tavern’s fireplace, takes another swig of his beer. “Dismissed, publicly humiliated, How DARE she! Nobody says NO to ME!” he says in a growl. Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes a bit and cracks his knuckles. “Well, you’re not a bad person... And besides forget her, you have tons of admirers in this tavern anyways” he says with a remark. Ben groans “Ugh, EDDIE LISTEN... My rustic cabin, my latest kill roasting itself on the fire, the children playing with the dogs ...and a pretty wife rubbing my feet…And what does Y/N say?? she says NO” he says throwing his beer into the fire.

The flame bursts a bit startling Eddie, but he proceeds to maintain his composure. “Listen to me ben…listen to the tavern…they’re all here because they’re admirers of you...” One man yells “NOBODY BITES LIKE BEN OR CAN WIN AT CHESS LIKE HIM” 

Another man yells “HE CAN EASILY WIN SPIT CHALLENGES” The tavern eventually comes together as they spew out all of their favorite qualities of ben. Especially the women, all of them gushed over his blonde hair, his brawn, his charm, and even his chest hair. (for some reason) Ben’s mood lifts and he smiles as he cheers along with the tavern of the glorification of his achievements and assets. People get together and eventually dance and drink as a small trio plays some music to add more to the cheerful atmosphere. Ben sits beside some ladies and brags about the number of eggs he eats in the morning. “TEN CHEERS FOR BEN RILEY !!” the tavern yells After a while of just fooling around, with a brightened mood Ben sits back in his lavish chair and looks at Eddie “that was very fun, thank you… but how come not a single woman has approached you?” Eddie chuckles and simply scratches his hair “well…I’ve been told I'm either too bored or too clingy .... I have no idea why though...” Ben just stares at him and clears his throat, looking back at the crackling fire.

Suddenly, the joy got sucked out of the room when Mauricio came waddling in tattered clothes, unruly hair, and barefoot. “SOMEONE, PORFAVOR QUE ME AYUDEN!!” The people in the tavern whispered to each other as they stared at him. Mauricio runs towards Ben and other customers in the tavern as he yells “SHE’S LOCKED IN A DUNGEON, EL LO TIENE CAPTIVA !!” 

A man asked, “but who?” Mauricio looks at this man with his eyes filled with fear “...who?... WHO?? MY DAUGHTER Y/N< WE HAVE TO GO SAVE HER NOW !!” Ben raises an eyebrow and looks at Eddie as he tries to stifle a laugh, not believing his words. He gets up and approaches Mauricio and pats his back “calm down Mauricio, now tell me… who is it that has Y/N locked in a dungeon?” 

“UN MONSTRUO! A BEAST !!” 

Crickets could be heard in the entire tavern as it went silent… 

The entire tavern bursted into laughter at the idiocy of his words. 

“Lemme guess! He’s a huuuggee BEAST.” 

“HE’s got an UGLY MOUTH WITH TEETH” Mauricio in his fears nods his head vigorously as he confirms each person’s questions about his so-called ‘beast’. He looks around and trips and falls on the wooden floor “Will you help me?” he asks with tears in his eyes.  Ben rubs his chin as he rolls his eyes as he decides to say something sympathetic to him “alright, alright, Mauricio relax, we’ll help” Poor Mauricio looked up with hope in his eyes as he thanked Ben for his courage to step up and help him. It didn’t last too long since he shortly got thrown out of the tavern by the owner due to his “madness.” 

Little did he know that Ben was already devising a plan with Mauricio’s plea for help…that may or may not have to do with marrying his daughter.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the other hand in the Castle..

After what seemed to be a few hours after that nasty confrontation with Miguel, A starving Y/N emerges from her room. She looks around as to see if she would see Miguel, but she ultimately decides that he has very much retired to his room. Wherever it may be. As she walked down the halls, she didn't notice the sound of giggling coming from behind a curtain.

“Miles nooo, stay away” 

“Ok but I just wanna hug, Gwen” “Miles, the last time you hugged me, you literally burned my feathers” she says with a sigh. Miles sighs and just pouts “It’s not my fault you got turned into a feather duster, ok?” Gwen rolls her eyes and chuckles at his antics. Miles then looked up as he heard the sound of footsteps and his flame burst a bit more “Hey look !!” he says pointing at Y/N “she emerged !!” He left Gwen in a hurry as he quickly hopped his way to Y/N as he followed her to the kitchen. In the kitchen, Peter was putting Mayday to sleep in the cupboard. Once she fell asleep, Peter closed the cupboard only to spot the cook, who was angrily huffing his stove top with fire as he whined over his cooking going to waste. Peter sighed “shh, come on I just put the little one to sleep, it’s been a long day.” Lyla however hops in and sighs “Honestly, I think she was just being headstrong, I mean...Miguel did say PLEASE” Peter sighs and says, “Really Lyla? you know that Miguel has a temper…and if he doesn’t control it, things won’t work out for him.” 

They were interrupted when Y/N walked in. “Hey, you showed up, a little late but that counts!” Peter says. Lyla turns around and greets her “Hello, I don’t think we properly introduced ourselves, I'm Lyla, you already know Peter of course, and in the back over there trying to get everyone in check is Jess and-” Miles butted in the conversation as he smiled at Y/N “and I’m Miles, nice to meet you senorita” he says wiggling his eyebrows. Jess waddled over smiled at Y/N “If you need anything to make your stay more comfortable just tell us honey” “Well ....I am hungry,” Y/N says with a sheepish smile. Peter grins and starts directing the kitchen to quickly cook something up for her. Lyla escorts her to the dining room, while Jess sighs “ok, but we have to be as quiet as possible, or else Miguel will flip. Miles just hops around happily as he says “aw come on, we gotta get Pav here! Actually, Imma go get him” he says as he hops off out the kitchen. 

A little while later, Miles came back with a large piano, “come on Pav, you haven’t played for someone in forever!” Pav smiles as he warms up quickly playing his keys “yep i’m all good” Jess walks in and spots him “Please…play quietly” Pav looks at Jess with the biggest stank face he has gave her “oh no yea..sure..softly… are there ANY more tasteless remarks to my artistry?” Jess says no and walks off back into the kitchen. In the dining room, Y/N was quietly sitting until she saw Miles come up to the table with a smile. He signals to Gwen who’s hovering over the window with a mirror to create a form of stage lights. Pavitir is playing his tunes, and Miles looks at her and smiles happily “It is our pride and pleasure that we all welcome you here tonight. Stay seated in your chair as you relax, enjoy what you see, as the dining room proudly presents…. your dinner!” Y/N smiles in amazement at all of the food that has been placed on the table, she had never seen so many foods from different regions in such a long time. If she had to be honest, it was better than the cooking she had seen from the local restaurant back at the village. She was handed a napkin by Miles, and she took it and placed it onto her lap to catch any food that would hypothetically stain her dress and fall to the floor. Each dish was kind enough to explain to her what each dish was. She had some gray stuff, Beef ragout, Chilaquiles, Asopao de Pollo, Arepas, Mofongo, Congri, Tequenos, Tostones, Pupusas, Camarones al ajillo, Quesadillas, and even Enchiladas. She had never tasted such a culinary cabaret in her life before. As Y/N ate, she chatted with Miles for a bit as he told her how it has been 10 years since they had a guest like her. She chatted with Gwen a bit and found out she’s the feather duster that snuck into her suite while she was busy crying to collect the dust that was piling up. She learned that Lyla is actually a relative of Miguel and learned about all the staff as well. Y/N found herself creating a friendly bond amongst the staff as she happily ate to her heart’s delight. Peter came in after a while on his serving cart with some tea for her to drink “one lump or two?” he asked. Y/N giggled “Just one please” She takes a cup and sips it as she sighed in content as the soothing flavor of the tea. 

After Y/N ate her fill she clapped in awe “this was wonderful, please give my compliments to the chef!” Jess smiled at her from a distance and looked at her minute and hour hand. “Oh dear, look at the time…it seems to me we should all get some sleep” She approaches Y/N and tries to escort her back. “Oh, but Jess…after such a meal, I can’t just go to sleep, besides it is my first time in such an enchanted castle...” Jess nervously laughed and looked around trying to divert her attention, “oh why who would say such a thing..I mean-” Lyla hopped in and heard what they said “Yyyyyeeeaaa…. totally not enchantteeeddd” she says to Y/N. Jess turns around to look at l

Lyla and muttered “it better not have been you” Lyla looked at her in shock at her accusations and was definitely going to retaliate until Y/N diffused the situation. “Oh guys please…I figured it out myself...” she says with a smile. She then gets up from the chair and approaches the door “I hope you both don’t mind If I look around, if that’s okay” Lyla perked up and hopped to her “wanna tour girlie ?” “AH AH AH…. we can’t let her... She might you know... go someplace else?” Jess says sternly. Y/N giggles as she looks down at Jess’s frown “aww come on, I bet you know a lot about the castle…how about if you tell me all about it?” Jess sighs as she gives in “alright then...”  —----------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later…

Jess was happily giving her knowledge of the castle, adding her expertise and explaining how old the castle truly was. She gave some stories on how she lived in the castle, as well as her years of service. Y/N looked around in awe as she marveled at each painting and each intricate design of the castle. It might have looked scary at first, but now that she’s taking a closer look. The castle itself is truly beautiful.  They passed by a hall of empty armor, each head turning around to take a peek at Y/N, finding her curiosity quite charming. Jess heard the squeaks of the rusty armor and turned around and with a silent hiss “Turn Around”

She looked back to her direction and noticed that Y/N was nowhere to be seen. Jess wanders around until she spots her trying to go up the west wing. “Lyla damnit go stop her !” Lyla notices and hops as quickly as she could to stop Y/N from going any further, Jess running along behind her. The two eventually reach Y/N and stand in front of her making halt gestures. “What’s up there?” she asked. Sheepish smiles were both seen on both women’s faces as they try to make up some excuses.

 “Oh nothing there just storage, Rubbish, Dusty, Boring, absolutely nothing in the west wing” Lyla says Y/N chuckles as she was able to trick them and says in a coy voice “Oh so THAT'S, the west wing” Jess groans in frustration and looks at Lyla “nice going idiot...” Y/N keeps on staring up the stairs as she wonders what Miguel is truly hiding in the west wing.  The two women then started blabbering as they started to try and convince her to go and see the library. She nods and slowly follows them until she notices that they sped so quickly that they were almost down the hall. She took this opportunity and quickly tiptoed up the stairs and into the West Wing.

The more she went up the stairs, the more she noticed how the hallway had cracks, claw marks, shattered mirror pieces, and broken gargoyle statues. Y/N looked around a little concerned and debated if she should stop. However, her curiosity got the best of her nature, and she kept on going. She eventually made it to the top and walked down a hall to two double doors. “This must be Miguel’s room” she whispered to herself. Y/N looks back behind her just in case Jess followed her but didn’t see anyone. With a deep breath she slowly opened the doors and walked in to see an almost dilapidated room. Everything was broken or at least about to shatter. “Probably from his anger issues” she says softly to herself. After walking inside and looking around she spots a portrait, she slowly approaches it to see claw marks on it. She couldn’t make out who the man painted in the portrait is, but she could tell that he was handsome, but what struck her the most was his piercing crimson eyes. 

She then turned around to notice the window completely open and a table with a mirror and a beautiful glowing rose. Amazed at its beauty she took the glass encasing off of the rose and watched how it sparkled, it was mesmerizing. Y/N then reaches a hand to touch the rose but stops as she feels a shadow loom over her. She looked up and gasped in shock to see Miguel.  He angrily huffed at her and snarled as he quickly made his way to reach for the rose’s glass encasing and protectively covered it. Miguel then slowly looked at Y/N with such rage in his eyes and blocks her from the rose “Porque Viniste” Y/N slowly stepped back as she raised her arms to protect herself from harm without realizing. “I’m..I’m Sorry” she says softly. Miguel growled and rolled his eyes “Sorry? I warned you to NEVER COME HERE” Y/N flinched and moved back even more “I didn’t mean any harm; I Apologize if I offended you” Miguel enraged clenched his paw into a fist “DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU COULD HAVE DONE?” He takes his anger on a broken chair and punches it. “I- No, Please, stop” she said worriedly. 

“LARGATE DE AQUI” 

Y/N didn’t hesitate and ran out as quickly as she could. Miguel raged and punched anything in his sight that was breakable in his room. His eyes widened as he realized he scared her off again. His heart ached at his own actions, and he lowered his head in shame feeling just awful about himself and worried for her...

Y/N on the other hand has made a run for it and somehow found her coat as she was running down the stairs. Miles was playing chess with Pav and spotted Y/N running “HEY, Y/N!! Where are you going ?!” Y/N looked back at them and fearfully said “Promise or not, I can’t stay here for another minute!” She left the castle and, in a hurry, looked around for the stables and found her dear old Felipe, despite the heavy blizzard that was occurring outside she managed to saddle him up and rode him away and out of the castle grounds into the black forest. 

After a while of horseback, she realized that she had no idea where to go, everything was covered in snow. Felipe whinnied and panicked as he fidgeted left and right where to go. Y/N tried to calm the horse down but gasped in terror when realizing there was a pack of hungry and vicious wolves ready to hunt them for their next meal. Felipe regained his control and immediately turned back to the castle’s direction to run away from the wolves. Y/N grasped tightly onto the reins and tried maneuvering Felipe through the woods. The wolves nipped at Felipe’s legs, and he would only run faster. Y/N was hyper focused in getting away that she didn’t completely register the frozen lake in front of her. The two fell in with a splash in the icy water, Y/N kept on holding onto the reins and Felipe quickly swam to the other side, the wolves still following behind. Eventually the other half of the pack caught up to both Y/N and Felipe in the front and spooked them, Y/N fell off the horse’s back and Felipe’s reins got stuck onto a tree branch. 

Y/N quickly got up from the snowy ground and found the nearest thick stick that she could find and stood in front of Felipe to help protect him. She swung the stick left and right, battling the canines on her own, but the stick was split in half when one of the wolves' sharp teeth gnawed into it. Y/N stood there in shock not knowing what to do..she was about to get eaten along with her beloved horse. A wolf leaped out of nowhere and took a bite of her coat, throwing her off her balance and making her fall to the ground. She screamed in terror, as another wolf leaped at her ready to bite. Until she heard a loud thud from the wolf’s body and a loud roar. She looked up and saw Miguel who stood beside her and protected her with his large body on top of her. He then jumped away from her leading the wolves far from her reach and fought them on his own, he scratched, bit, he harmed, and almost killed. 

The wolves, intimidated by his dominant presence, whimpered and scurried away from him.  Miguel let out one final growl until he looked directly at Y/N, his eyes showed relief that she was fine, but quickly rolled behind his head as he weakly fell down onto the cold icy ground. He was bleeding with many bites and scratches from the wolves. He panted heavily as the pain from his wounds slowly enveloped him. Y/N was going to take advantage to run away but stopped…she would be no better than a crude human to leave him out there. He saved her life…and she owed him. She slowly walked away from Felipe and kneeled down to Miguel and whispered. “Hey, I know it hurts…but you have to help me...” 

She was able to somehow get Miguel to stand up and mount the horse. His body however limped on it as he was too weak to sit properly on the horse. Y/N bit her lip in worry as she took off her coat and wrapped it over Miguel’s wound. 

Y/N slowly united Felipe’s reins from the tree branch and slowly led him back to the castle.

With the beast on his back.

taglist: @cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles, @xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n, @badbishsblog, @faimmm, @keendreamknight, @texanadmirer, @stargirrls, @itzsab

[hfjonewiki]

thought about bow inanimate insanity too hard and made myself sad.

she was originally created as the mascot of a one-off joke commercial for chairs, she was never supposed to be a contestant. but she kept showing up when she wasn't supposed to because she wanted to be one. eventually mephone is told by a.d.a.m. that she needs to join the game because the viewers love her, and in hindsight, that was most likely cobs' doing. mephone let her join, but constantly made it apparent that he did not want her there. and none of the other contestants seemed to want her there either, except for marshmallow who tolerated her at best. when she's eventually eliminated, she's confined to a small metal box just barely big enough to fit her, just so she doesn't come back.

and then she dies in a freak accident. she's sent to the inside of melife as mephone is unable to recover her, but she refuses to stay dead. she plays the red line game and risks being erased from existence just for another chance to be alive, but she fails at the very last minute. most of her body makes it across, but her legs get caught, and she's turned into a ghost and trapped within purgatory mansion. she can't leave, and nobody knows she's there. she's alone again.

though we don't know how much time passes between the finale and s2e6, it's safe to assume she's alone in there for at LEAST a full year. finally, somebody finds her, and it's the one person who tolerated her presence. they agree to team up again so marshmallow can win that episode's challenge, and bow gets a chance to mess with the people who used to despise her so much. but marshmallow keeps talking about someone else. she talks about how apple refuses to leave her alone, and bow decides to intervene. she can rid marshmallow of the person bothering her, while also ensuring that she can have her all to herself. it's a win-win situation, right? so she does, and it works. she's marshmallow's only friend now, so she has to pay attention to her. they don't win the challenge, but now bow has marshmallow all to herself. even if she can't leave the mansion, she has someone in her life who cares about her. someone who remembers her.

then some guy claiming to be her brother shows up, but she does not want him around. it comes full circle in a way: now bow is forced to put up with a one-off joke character who refuses to go away.

time goes by, and marshmallow is worn down by everything going on. she doesn't know how to feel about her falling out with apple, she's still grappling with her guilt over indirectly causing bow's death, and whenever she tries to talk to someone about it, she's cut off. so she goes to the one person she knows will acknowledge her, hoping that she'll reassure her. it doesn't work, and bow ends up confessing to intentionally driving her and apple apart so she could have marshmallow all to herself. she tries to explain herself, she explains how now that she's no longer a contestant, no longer relevant, she might as well not exist at all. she has nothing to do except remain in a dusty old mansion, trapped with nothing but her phone and the maniac who thinks he's her brother.

a dumb and gay little musical number happens and while i'm of the opinion that bow and marshmallow's relationship should have been sorted out via actual dialogue instead, it gets them to reconcile, and bow is reassured that marshmallow won't forget about her or leave her behind. she leaves the competition behind, and even brings apple along with her. despite everything, bow got what she wanted in the end.

but she's still trapped there. still trapped within the parameters of the mansion, trapped in an incorporeal body and unable to make physical contact with anyone. she survives the mass deletion and fights cobs, but is held back by her entrapment. everyone gets revived, everything is back to how it was. but she's still there. she's still trapped. everyone is free to live as they please on the island, but not her. and now, the guy who burned her best friend alive for fun is trapped there with her.

no matter how many times she fights for her right to exist, to be with everyone, to form meaningful connections, to be remembered, it's too late for her. sure, she has marshmallow and apple, and she's kind of warmed up to dough, but is that really enough? despite everything, despite how much she tries, she'll never be free.

can you really call that a happy ending?

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 2)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1

By the time they arrive at the Capitol, Katniss and Peeta are whisked off to be prepped for the tribute parade.

Y/N is already dressed to the nines, they are here to work after all. Haymitch has begrudgingly squeezed into a pantsuit to match and they’re off to talk up the night’s festivities.

Y/N drags him by the hand as they’re rushed through the streets, bustling with excitement.

“Come, come.” Their escort insists. “Five minutes to curtain.”

“Can’t wait.” Haymitch grumbles, a little hung over. His wife flicks at lint on his shoulder pads, allowing him to take a few sips from his flask as they wait in the wings. Fussing over his hair. “It’s fine,” he’s not like her. Nobody is expecting him to be perfectly put together.

“Remember, we’re happy, we’re grateful, we’re in love.” Sounds an awful lot like the pep talks he used to give her. As if somehow, over the years, they’ve switched places.

“Are we not in love?” Haymitch slurs, cocking his head to the side.

Y/N sighs, “of course we are.” Maybe not the way they were in the beginning. Gone are stolen kisses and frenzied hands; given way to comfort and familiarity.

Flickerman’s music plays, the show has started. As the crowd settles back into their seats, Caesar makes his announcement. “Tonight, we will be joined by two very special guests before the tribute parade.”

The audience squeals with excitement. They get to see her.

Y/N rose to fame because Haymitch pushed her there; she was the first sign of hope he’d seen in a long time. But she remains at the top because Snow allows her to; Y/N is everything he dreamed a victor would be. Someone to rally and unite the people with a story of gratitude and love for the nation.

“Y/N and Haymitch Abernathy,” Caesar smiles, standing at the front of his chair.

That’s their queue. Walk out, smile, wave.

The crowd howls, erupting into applause. Stealing the air from Y/N’s lungs, though no one besides her husband could know that. They greet Caesar in turn. Y/N with a hug; the show host vibrating with delight. Haymitch is a hand shake and a pat on the back.

“Welcome, welcome. Thank you for joining us.”

“Thank you for having us,” Y/N takes her assigned seat on the couch after Haymitch plops down.

“Tell us, how are things?” Caesar crosses one leg over the other. “How are the children? It’s been so long since we’ve seen you.”

Not long enough.

“Kids are great,” Haymitch tells him, “brought some pictures for you.” He fishes around in his pocket for a moment before leaning over Y/N to deliver them.

“Oh my,” Caesar cries, “our babies.” He turns the photos out to the crowd, giving the film crew a chance to tighten the shot. “Where are our babies?”

The people let out a collective coo.

“They’re growing up,” Y/N nods.

“You can say that again. Where has all the time gone?”

“I don’t know Caesar, you haven’t aged a day.”

“Ahh,” he clutches a hand to his heart. “You flatter, my girl. Now, I have to ask what we’re all dying to know…”

Haymitch moves to the edge of his seat, feigning anticipation.

“Do you plan on having more children?” Caesar leans in.

Y/N turns to her husband, making a show of whispering in his ear.

Haymitch smirks, nodding suggestively toward the curtains offstage.

“Haymitch, you dog!” Caesar fans himself at the implication.

“It sounded like an invitation,” he shrugs. Quite pleased with himself as people begin cheering. There will be no more children. Not if they have any say in it.

————————————————————————

“I have never seen a more beautiful gown.” The Capitol woman, seated aside of Y/N for the parade, gawks openly at the floor length midnight blue show stopper.

“This?” Y/N looks down at herself. “Doesn’t hold a candle to your outfit. I have half a mind to be jealous.”

Before the chariots are sent out is the perfect time to fish for sponsors. Lay the bait, then once they see the tributes, reel them in.

“Vanity has become quite the talk around here. Everyone loved your reaping dress, we always love your dresses.”

Apparently there is a slew of outfits for a victory tour, assuming one of her tributes ever make it that far.

“Darling, let Y/N breathe.” The woman’s husband cuts in. “Forgive her, she does get overly excited.”

“It’s more than fine,” Y/N reaches a hand out to shake his, “good to meet you both.”

Haymitch watches, giving the man a good old nod and smile when they make eye contact.

The presence of victors is addictive to these people. No matter how much they give, the Capitol demands more. Snow sells it for a price, sells them for a price.

Y/N wants out, she wants freedom. Haymitch keeps her sane, keeps her happy within the confines of their birdcage. They aren’t the only ones. People are angry, desperate for reform. Panem is on the precipice of a revolution, Snow can feel it too. So he digs his claws in a bit deeper.

Soon as the anthem begins to play, all eyes are on the tributes.

District twelve is last, they probably have them dressed as miners again. Ever since Vanity left her post as stylist for the games, the outfits have gone downhill.

This new stylist, Cinna, comes with raving reviews. Still Y/N is surprised to see Peeta and Katniss emerge…on fire?

“Oh my goodness!”

“Look at them!”

“That’s amazing!”

The crowd goes wild, rising from their seats for a closer look. Haymitch huffs a laugh, proud to be their mentor, even though he’ll never admit it.

Katniss won him over during breakfast on the train when she stabbed his placemat. She is a fighter, fighters have a chance if sponsors like them.

When their tributes join hands and hold them high in the air, people eat it up. So far, things are looking better for Katniss and Peeta than any tributes before. The ones Haymitch can’t put names to, the faces that come unbidden in his dreams.

————————————————————————

“Each district gets their own floor.” Effie claps her hands together as she informs the tributes. “Since you’re from twelve, you get the penthouse.”

Katniss side eyes Y/N. Is she serious?

Y/N shoots her a reassuring grin when Katniss freezes at the entrance to the elevator.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Haymitch demands, at this rate he’ll be holding the door open all night.

Katniss swallows, stepping in aside Peeta. Even with Effie, Portia, Cinna and their mentors, the space is not cramped. She wonders idly how many other people could fit.

When they reach the top floor Effie scurries out. “Here it is!”

This time Peeta stalls.

“Come on.” Y/N puts a hand to his back, nodding to the foyer.

Peeta snaps his mouth shut, following after his stylist. It is a bit overwhelming, Y/N remembers. Though the novelty wears off in time.

Effie shows the kids to their rooms. The mentors know theirs well.

“Unzip,” Y/N pleads, the moment they are alone, in the privacy of their suite.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Haymitch chortles. Turning her away to open the gown, allowing it to pool at her feet.

She kicks it away, removing her jewelry and opting for a shower before dinner. When the water runs clear she towels off, feeling like herself again or something close to it.

Tomorrow they train.

Part 3

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420

[chokedonaturtle]

my humanized cars headcanons

Cal Weathers Edition

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

- Cal went to a private school in California and when his parents died he moved in with Strip and Lynda at like 12-15

so that’s why his accent ain’t as pronounced as Strip’s but it’s still there

bro definitely got called a city slicker by Tex

- Tex loves him sm he does anything and everything for him, he’s def the cool uncle that says yes just because Strip said no

- 100000% a mamas boy and is glued to Lynda’s hip most of the time

- insanely good at math he does that thing with the mental abacus russian children learn in school

honestly he’s just good at school in general that boy can WRITE an essay

- is right handed but holds the wii remote in his left hand and nunchuck in his right WHICH IS WRONG BTW 😡😡😡

- can and will play the most depressing country music on guitar and has the most perfect country boy voice with the cracks and all (think brad paisley (my love))

- he has low self confidence because he feels the need to be just as good as Strip if not better and feels like he’ll never step outside Strip’s shadow and make a name for himself

and Tex makes jokes like “yeah you better win this season or i’ll drop you” but then he sees cal sad and he’s like “thou shalt not compare thineself to thine predecessor”

- thinks he’s sponsored by dinoco ONLY because he’s Strip’s nephew

“you just sponsored me bc i’m strip’s nephew 😔”

“i sponsored you bc you’re a great racer with potential not bc of strip 😡🥺”

- bro cried when he retired (i did too)

- when Tex was updating the racing suits for safety standards or something he had a new design drawn up and Cal was like “no i wanna race with my old design 🥺🥺🥺”

- Tex thinks it’s adorable that he wants to race in that outfit bc it hasn’t been updated since strip started racing and it’s like a legacy passed down !! aw !!

- whenever he’s in the same room as Tex he plucks off Tex’s hat and wears it like he used to when he was a young whippersnapper

and Tex is like “gotdam!!! that hat looks just like mine !!!!” and Cal is like 😐😑😐 “y’aint funny tex”

- says the weird country stuff like

“that boy’s cornbread ain’t done in the middle”

“nervous as a cat in a room full o’ rocking chairs”

“if the good lord’s willing and the creek don’t rise”

“i’m fixin to (insert perfectly normal errand nobody announces)”

“they was bangin’ like a screen door in a tornado.” (he got that one from Tex and only says it when he ain’t isn’t around Strip and Lynda)

- says “git” instead of “get” bc of Strip and yall’d’ve bc of Tex and then everyone makes fun of him

Strip: “where you git that 🤨” “git over ‘ere” aka “CMERE BOY”

Tex: “yall’d’ve” “y’aint” “yall done got them good”Cal: yeah that’s mine now

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

yeah that’s it for NOW i will make more !! later mayhaps!!

- he says mayhaps and perchance NO I DIDNT BASE HIM OFF ME

ok bye <3

[noirs-pages]

Lucifer 2

Summary: Lucifer wants to get along better with you and you see that. So, to show that you appreciate his attempts, you keep him company while he gets himself drunk off his wine. Unfortunately, Lucifer misreads your signals and makes an unwanted advance.

(Just me being my aro/ace self. Basically a case of Lucifer making an assumption, acting on that assumption and it backfires horribly.)

Lucifer was someone you could only tolerate on a good day. He isn’t a bad person by all means. He meets the low low standard of not actively wanting your death, but the little things he does, the small demands he makes of you, they irritate you in such a way that makes you want to avoid him altogether.

Lucifer dropped a pen and he asked you to pick it up. There’s a book too far away and he asked you to get it for him. There are papers that need to be taken to the student council room and he asked you to take them there. You wouldn’t have minded doing these small things. They’re menial tasks that you can easily forget.

But then you began to truly understand him. By the time he asked you to wash his utensils after finishing his dinner, you understood that Lucifer never truly asked for anything. They’re demands wrapped in politeness, things he expected you to fulfill without question, because it fed his pride to have someone at his beck and call, no matter how small and insignificant the task may be.

You remember Mammon calling you paranoid when you told him these things, because understanding the subtly of intentions behind too-small actions was never his calling. But, it took a simple sigh for Mammon to stew in his brain for a little bit to see your point.

Either way, you avoided Lucifer when you could and it took weaponizing Diavolo’s favor towards you for Lucifer to start reigning in his pride just the slightest bit. Diavolo wanted to see you do your human things while Lucifer wanted to refine you to his specifications. Obviously, Diavolo was going to win out and Lucifer had to concede.

And it seems that that particular event actually stuck with Lucifer, because when he would catch himself slipping into old habits, he would clear his throat and either help you out or do these tiny tasks himself. He stopped trying to “perfect” you in those small ways.

Honestly, it wouldn’t mean much to you if it weren’t for the fact that were no other eyes beyond just you and Lucifer. This attempt at trying to treat you like an equal stretched beyond the gazes of everyone else.

So when Lucifer drunkenly texted you near the middle of the night for some company, you figured why not. The both of you are getting along better. You can even say he’s your friend by this point in time. Besides, you’re at that point where you do want to get to know him better.

That and it would probably be pretty fun to see drunk Lucifer in action.

“… and wouldn’t you know it, he came at full sprint. Without a single article of clothing on him,” Lucifer chuckled, pushing his hair back from his flushed face, “Mammon was lucky nobody saw him.”

You snorted, swirling the wine in your glass even though you weren’t going to drink it, “That’s evil, Lucifer.”

“It’s of no fault of my own that my phone misspelled ‘witches’ with ‘riches.’”

“But you didn’t correct it,” you put the glass down and picked up your own phone, wanting some music to fill this quiet air.

“That I didn’t.” Lucifer further slumped into his chair, digging his fingers into his tie before pulling it off.

You found an interesting pick and played some modern classical music. You can save your weirder picks for later. The swell of strings and light presses of piano keys had Lucifer tapping his finger.

Just as you were about to soak in the atmosphere, Lucifer stumbled to his feet.

“Have you ever danced?” Lucifer almost tripped backwards but caught the arms of the chair in time.

“Depends on the dance,” you leaned forward, smiling at this too drunk to function demon.

“Do you want to dance?” Even when you know his head must be swimming, Lucifer tried to be suave and held out his hand. He would’ve tipped forward had you not caught his palm.

“Might as well,” you stood up just to support him, letting him rest most of his weight on you, “Here, let me show you something fun.”

And so you pulled him into a dumb little jiggle of a dance that did not suit the music in the least. Just loud steps, awkward swinging of the arms, the kind of dances you’d do as a kid when coordination and social awareness was just not a thing.

It got Lucifer laughing and you couldn’t help your own chuckles.

Lucifer eventually fell into your arms, too drunk to properly stand and you adjusted his head on your shoulder.

“Whoa there,” you patted his back, guiding the both of you to your knees so you don’t fall, “I think you had enough wine for the night.”

“Hmm,” Lucifer leaned forward, hooking his arms under your shoulders for a hug. You let him. You didn’t mind giving hugs at all.

You let your hands lazily rest on his spine, just letting him be in the moment since you’re pretty sure this man hasn’t had a hug in a while. You’ll let him have this since he probably won’t ask again when he’s sober.

Lucifer further buried himself into your neck and you shifted your weight so your weren’t on your knees. He took a deep breath in and when his fingers trailed down and grabbed at your waist did you stiffen up.

For a moment, you thought you were misunderstanding him, that you were too paranoid and that this was some sensual affection he wanted, nothing more. But then he snuggled deeper, pressed his lips up your neck and rubbed his thumbs over your ribs.

It was a knee-jerk reaction, shoving him away and onto the carpet away from you like that. Honestly, this wasn’t the first time you had your waist grabbed like that by the other brothers in this house. Beelzebub pretty much did that all the time but you knew him. He never meant anything more than that. He’s just a naturally affectionate guy that likes some sensual affection as well.

Lucifer, however, was a different story. Face holding, hand caressing, getting lost in the smell of skin, waist grabbing, all those things aren’t just actions that he would do casually. He places meaning to just about everything he does, as he puts too much effort in refining himself.

Lucifer rose from the floor, hair a mess but eyes wide with surprise and a shocking amount of clarity.

“… sorry,” you murmured as you got up. You don’t want to think deeper on this. You just want to attribute this to him being too drunk and that’s it. There’s nothing hidden in him, nothing that he’s shoving down, no fantasies that he wants to come true. Any and all softness that he’s been showing is because he wants to be your friend and nothing more.

Because if there is more, then he’d have to find out how disgusted you are by that. And you don’t want him to find fault in himself just because that’s how you react. You don’t want to ruin this already fragile friendship.

“It seems…” Lucifer started when you helped him up and back into the chair, “I lost myself a bit there.”

“You did, but don't worry about it, okay?” you backed away, skin unable to stand the thought of touching anything. You need to be in bed, away from here. “Good night.”

And Lucifer didn’t stop you. Hopefully you all will forget this night in the morning.

[zhenyaiam]

Deal? Part.1

Warnings: No knowledge of poker!! And card games! (google) Cringe, dom!Sevika, sub!reader, grammatical mistakes, eating out, fingering, praising, pet names for reader

a/n: This is the first part, idk what is this, the next part of this gonna be spicy ✨

(Btw. This is not the best)

Even for a Friday night, the undercity pulsed with life. Music from the clubs reverberated through the streets, while neon lights flickered over the bustling crowds. You navigated through the chaos toward the Last Drop, the best—and most notorious—bar in the area. After Silco got that in his grip.

As you pushed open the wooden doors, the noise from inside hit you. The bar was packed with drunkards.

But you were here for drinking and to see Silco’s right hand. Sevika.

This was your habit. Every friday night.

Even if you just drink a cocktail, just to watch her. Like if she never noticed you, stupidly watching. You got a few glances from her too,sometimes... Or just a nod in acknowledgement.

Sevika sat in a dimly lit corner, a smug grin on her face as she held a set of cards in her chemtech hand. She was deep into a game, clearly winning. You waited for her to notice you, but she never did—though you sensed she knew you were there.

“Another round, boys?” she taunted, her voice booming as she blew out a cloud of cigar smoke. “Or are you too afraid to continue?”

You sit down at the counter waving to the bartender for a drink, a whiskey. Directly sitting the way you could look at Sevika.

Sevika smirked to herself, glancing over at you as she noticed you watching her. Her left chemtech arm was propped up on the bar, cards dancing across it. She placed one card down with a thud and then grinned at the others at her table like a predator who had found a meal.

Sevika seemed very in control, and it seemed nobody at the table could take her place now..

  "You gonna keep looking at me like a puppy in heat," she called, her voice like gravel as the smoke billowed in between her lips, "or are you gonna come play, sweetheart?"

You smiles,drinking your whiskey then walking up to Sevika sitting between the drunkards.

"Money is not enough for me to win. Let's start there."

Sevika chuckled to herself, tilting her head back as she glanced at you, her eyes full of amusement as she took you in.

"You're very good at acting naive," she said, her voice low as she shuffled the cards around in her hands again, "but we're both well aware you were born and raised in this hellhole. You know that what you're getting into is a dangerous game here."

She looked back at the table, smirking as she took a drag from her cigar. "I guess we shall see then, pretty lady."

You laughed and looked at Sevika’s thick fingers as she dealt the cards.

Sevika's fingers were strong, her skin rough and full of callouses from her years of fighting. They were thick, and made deft by the work that she did - whether it was fighting, building (developing her chemtech) , or gambling...

"We're playing with money and favors tonight, sweetheart. I wouldn't get comfortable in your chair if I was you.”

Her lips parted, and she chuckled as she glanced at the table, “Ante up. You'll need it for what I'll have you doing later.”

"You don't have to worry about me. I will be your best opponent yet, these idiots nothing compared to me" You said glancing to your sides and at her left side where a men was.

"It's easy to get money from idiots" You huffed to Sevika. You looked trought her playing. With these idiots it was easy to play with and win.

Sevika laughed, her eyes gleaming with mischief at your confidence as she stared at how carefree you were. "I don't doubt your skills, girl,” her voice rumbled, the words dripping like venom off of her tongue as she took a long drag off her cigar; the smoke billowing around them, "after all, you got my attention didn't you?”

The others at the table snickered, their gaze going over you with hungry eyes. They could sense your inexperience in card games..

"Call me Y/N"

Sevika grinned, glancing away for a moment as she took a drag from her cigar before she put it out in the makeshift ashtray in the table's center.

"Well Y/N then, if you're such a pro,” she drawled, her tone teasing but clearly mocking your confidence, "then let's get to the rules. You will be paying for every mistake you make, understand?”

The others at the table grinned at that; you could tell they were looking forward to seeing Sevika humiliate you.

"As you too baby, its a game. Its unfair if just im paying." she laughed . What she tought? You at a level as the drunkards?

Sevika raised a brow at you before she huffed out a chuckle of amusement. She'd never seen such an inexperienced player have such confidence before. You definitely didn't look like you knew what you were getting into.

"Fine then; I'll give you a chance,” she said lowly, her eyes gleaming with a hunger to devour your confidence, "But I won't go easy on you, sweetheart."

She smirked again, gesturing to the others at the table. "Ante up, boys. Let's get started."

You do the same as men next to you. God they were so stinky.

ʚ♡ɞ ——————————————————ʚ♡ɞ

The game passed as expected; most of them were drunk out of their minds and playing badly, and you seemed to be good enough not to embarrass yourself on your turns. Sevika was good though.

The game stretched on for quite a while — nobody had folded, but Sevika was winning most hands by a large margin. It was obvious that she would win at this point, but... she wasn't finished yet.

ʚ♡ɞ——————————————————ʚ♡ɞ

The game finally ended. As expected, Sevika won hands down. She grinned with a smugness only befitting a Zaunite like her, glancing over the table at the men at the table who seemed pissed.

"Alright, enough of this foolishness,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she glanced over the cards in her hand before throwing them down onto the table. "I win.” Sevika smirked as the others cursed at their loss, her eyes gleaming with victory.

"Ahh damn it" You said leaning you back onto the booth chair

Sevika laughed at your disappointment as she leaned back in her own seat; her arms flexing as they folded over her chest. "Tch. Don't act too surprised. I'm the best player in the undercity, sweetheart."

Her cigar was still burning in its makeshift ash tray, and she reached over to take a long drag off of it.

"You still put up quite a good fight. But I'd expect that from a pretty face like you."

You raise an eyebrow and laughs

"Are ya cheatin?"

Sevika scoffed at your question as she put her cigar back in her mouth. She glanced at you, her smile widening as she slowly shook her head.

"Darling, I don't need to cheat to win.” she said lowly, her words coming out in a plume of smoke from her lips. She gestured to the other players. "They don't even know how to play right. They always raise too high and bet too fast. It's pitiful."

"No, no, no. The shit head next to you, you colluders. Definitely."

Sevika raised a brow at the accusation, her eyes gleaming dangerously as she glanced over the other players. They seemed as confused and offended as she did.

"You're just as much of an idiot as them,” she muttered, shaking her head. "I don't cheat, sweetcheeks. If we were cheating, then we would've won this game awhile ago."

"You and him, colluding. You definitely had four diamonds and you didn't even drew a card but you 'accidentally' got the fifth  diamond? You switched a card with him."

If she had the five diamonds a long time ago, she would have finished the game a long time ago, wouldn't she?

Sevika scoffed at your words, letting out a laugh that echoed around the table as she took another draw from her cigar. "Are you calling me a cheater right now?” she said, her words coming out on a billow of smoke as she glared at you with those cold eyes. "You're a fool, girl, if you think I'm cheating. I don't need to stoop that low to win."

"Ah yes, you do. You win, get the money and you easily take away the idiot part of money."

If Sevika really do that, who knows. But yeah, that idiot wouldn't have noticed that Sevika wasn't even giving him half the prize after the game, he was too drunk to care.

Sevika barked out another laugh as she stood from her seat, shaking her head in disbelief at your words. "You're really accusing me of something that you have absolutely no proof of. You're a fool and an idiot, girl."

She took another draw from her cigar before she slammed her chemtech hand onto the table, leaning towards you. "But if that's what you believe, then why not make this a game for me and you only, huh? You think you can prove me wrong?"

"Yeah, im in. Tell these to get out here" You said leaning back in your seat

Sevika tilted her head back and roared with laughter as she glanced to the other men. "You heard her! Now piss off! Hurry up.” Sevika scowled she waved her hand in the air.

The men grumbled amongst themselves before standing up; they'd been getting bored just watching the two of you bicker anyway.

Sevika pushed the ash try away from her as they left then looked at you again, her eyes gleaming with a glint of a challenge in them. While she sits back down in the booth.

"Now, do you want to make this very interesting?" Sevika drawled, her voice low and gravelly as she grinned over at you, her cigar still burning in her lips. "I bet there's more than money that you'll be losing to me, sweetcheeks."

You raised an eyebrow, curious what the older woman meant by that "What do you mean?" You asked now sitting comfortable in the booth after the others, gone.

Sevika chuckled lowly as she shook her head she exhaled a plume of smoke, her gaze locking with yours. "It's simple, girl. If you really believe that I cheat at cards, then why not up the ante a little?”

She pulled her cigar out of her lips and Sevika's smirk widened her tooth gap peek out under her plump lips as her eyes gleam with a predatory glint in them, "Loser has to do a favor for the other just as we promised in the beginning, no questions asked. A favor to be collected whenever.”

“Deal?”

"I'm pretty sure your inexperience isn't relegated to just gambling.  But... I could be wrong." She laughed leaning back in the booth, putting the cigar back between her lips.

“Deal”

you said cockily. Not intimidated in the slightest of Sevika's nature.

Sevika raised her brow before she chuckled, shaking her head. “Cocky one, aren’t you? I like your spirit. But I won’t go easy on you just because you’re pretty”

She reached up, running a hand through her messy, black hair thoughtfully as she glanced at you. “You sure you’re not afraid, sweetcheeks? Are you not scared you’ll have to kneel for me?”

"Not in a slightest"

Sevika glanced over to the deck of cards, her expression almost feral. Her chemtech arm flexed as she picked the deck up in her hand, shuffling it in a fluid movement that made the playing cards dance around at the touch of her prosthetic. She was confident. Very confident, never breaking her gaze with you.

With a sly grin, Sevika gestured to the deck. "You cut them. Prove you're not scared, pretty girl."

You split the deck into two packets by lifting one packet from the top and placing it face down beside the remainder; before placing the lower packet on top of it.

Sevika's eyes were glued to your hands as you split the deck; you could tell she was studying your movement and body language for any signs of weakness.

When you were finished, she glanced up at you, her expression almost amused at your lack of wavering. 

She took the deck from you, shuffling it again before starting to deal the cards across the table.

Sevika began dealing the cards, her eyes staying on your face as she watched your reaction. It was like she was watching your every move, studying your face and body language.

The first cards were dealt. Your hand wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t good either. It was a decent start. Let's see what comes out of this..

[eagna-eilis]

Star Wars Characters at a Family Wedding in Ireland

ANAKIN - Gets extremely nostalgic about his own wedding and makes his adult twin children groan in embarrassment. Is in such a good mood that he isn't even mad when Leia calls him a fascist for voting Fine Gael, and manages to give his grandson an effective pep talk.

PADMÉ - So resplendent that the bride is almost jealous but honestly how could you be upset with her she's just so nice. Gets giggly tipsy over dinner and waltzes with C3P0 afterwards. Touches up literally everyone's makeup for them throughout the night and does a better job than the actual makeup artist.

OBI-WAN - Waits til the night is winding down then magically locates a squeezebox, fiddle, a guitar, and a tin whistle and hands them out to start a sessiún. The sing-song goes on until 5am and it's all his fault. His signature song is 'The Lass of Aughrim' because it makes him feel all literary.

R2D2 - Has at least four too many double Jamesons and literally starts arguing with the wall. Shmii finds him passed out under a table the next morning, wherein he swears he's not drinking until Christmas.

C3P0 - Wrecks the heads of the hotel staff over dinner with all his requests, to the point of embarrassing the other people at his table. Conducts impromptu ballroom dancing lessons while the band plays and charms the pants off everyone with his patient explanations of how to foxtrot.

LANDO - Pulls out a deck of cards and starts a game of 21s in the corner. Absolutely swindles everyone. It's okay though because he puts his winnings behind the bar so nobody has to pay for their drinks after that.

AHSOKA - Brings enough weed to share with a chosen few, like an absolute queen. Ends up hanging out in the loo for ages rolling for herself, Sabine, Maz, Kanan, and eventually Ben. Despite her relative stillness and quiet, she enjoys the music more than basically anybody else and people will quote her fondly slagging Anakin over dinner for the next 20 years.

SABINE - Camera queen who tries to look like she isn't enjoying herself. Fools nobody because she keeps grinning and snort-laughing. Her photos are a thousand times better than the photographer's and are the ones that the couple use for their album.

HERA - Helps Leia gang up on Anakin about politics because goddamn it, Leia isn't wrong. Hands out isotonic powder sachets and paracetamols to everyone before they go up to bed. They're gonna need it.

EZRA - Gets so hyper after consuming so much 7up that Hera has to send him to bed before the DJ takes over from the band. Sneaks down later for the cocktail sausages.

DIN DJARIN - Couldn't get a babysitter so he's tucked up at home watching The Late Late and hate-tweeting it.

GROGU - fell asleep in front of The Late Late. Delighted when somebody brings wedding cake to the house the following day.

KANAN - Literally will not be at peace until the DJ plays Kenny Rodgers' 'The Gambler' because it's not a wedding without it. Once that's done he insists on 'Come On Eileen'. Somebody's gotta be the keeper of the flame of tradition, after all.

CHEWBACCA - Requests all the group dances. Rock the Boat, The Siege of Ennis, The Macarena, The Walls of Limerick, Chain Reaction. Bullies everyone into joining in, except Ben who is the absolute antithesis of craic.

LUKE - Every wedding requires at least one merrily drunk uncle and Luke does not disappoint. Suit jacket? Gone. Top buttons? Open. Tie? It's now around his head while he stands on a chair playing air guitar to 'Hotel California'. Ends up puking in a flower pot. Iconic.

LEIA - Would have been okay if she stuck to wine all night but a single gin and tonic on top of the shitty hotel merlot and suddenly she's having an hour-and-a-half political argument with Anakin. Embarrasses the hell out of her parents, brother, and son by smooching Han repeatedly while dancing.

HAN - Organises the pre-ceremony pints. His sotto-voce asides are funnier than anything in the speeches. Quietly sings along to 'Brown Eyed Girl' by Van Morrison in Leia's ear while they dance, prompting all that smooching.

FINN - Sneaks into the hotel's public bar to check the hurling scores on the telly then reports them back to all the lads. Keeps his wits about him regards alcohol so he can take care of Poe later but eats so much cake he feels sick.

POE - Holds court in the bar, telling long anecdotes about his life that are only 75% true. Dances and flirts with all the aunties and nanas and makes them feel great about themselves. It doesn't convince Ahsoka to give him a spliff, though, because she is immune to his charms.

ROSE - The boomers yell at her for getting the DJ to play 'Celtic Symphony' by the Wolfe Tones, but she calls them hypocrites who are oozing postcolonial shame. Anakin offers to adopt her because now she's the centre of the politics argument. Knocks it out of the park at the sing-song because she knows all the words to at least 20 rebel songs.

MAZ - The first to place her handbag down on the dancefloor so as to coax the other nanas onto the floor. Jovially flirts with every man over 18 and under 60 that isn't her blood relation. Asks Poe to marry her.

REY - Finishes at least three other people's dinners. Sings along very loudly to every song that the band AND the DJ plays. Can't dance at all but it doesn't stop her. Should probably check on Ben because she knows what he's like but decides that tonight he's his family's responsibility. Loses her entire shit when ABBA plays.

BEN - Zero craic, God help the poor craytur. Drinks brandy as an affectation and starts quoting James Joyce after four of them. Gets extremely mopey after brandy number six and ends up having a long heart to heart with his Grandda Ani. Cries then throws up. Auntie 'Soka gives him a joint to settle his tummy. Subsequently feels better and then knocks everyone's socks off singing 'Raglan Road'.

SHMII - Begs off the party at 10pm because she's 97 years old. Still makes sure that everybody takes their hangover down to breakfast the following morning for a Big Feed of rasher-sausage-and-pudding, and maybe hair of the dog if they're desperate.

[noacfapologyst]

birthday sleepover — matty healy

(the birthday party: day three)

summary: matty loses something very important in his first moments of officially coming of age. but, he discovers that sometimes losing means winning and he does, he gains something better and something more good for him.

warnings: suggestion of a fight, being drunk in the streets. touches in general. physical contact (anguished, affectionate and raised in tone). disappointment, anger, anguish.

wordcounter: 5,2k

a/n: I don't know if this counts as a sleepover because most of it happens before. but still, i hope you enjoy it!

"Ross!" You scream in the crowd hanging from his arm. "That's so bold!"

"I'm not lying, I'm sorry." He laughs rolling his eyes subtly. "It's more logical to say that you would spend your last day looting a food store on your own."

The dilemma they have while waiting for their drinks is simple. If it was the last day of your life or if you had all the time in the world, who you would be with, what you would do and where. Then his answer hesitates until he finds a girl who attracted him when he was younger, but she was older than him. Today everyone knows that she has a family and that in fact she holds a high office in the city council.

"Do you know what's wrong with that idiot of Matty?" He then inquires, returning to the serious tone of the conversation and looking at how the guy at the bar takes years to prepare five glasses.

"I don't know, he's just being a jerk." You shrug your shoulders and sigh. "I'm not going to withdraw my position because he knows I'm right, he's fooled by her and he knows it's wrong for him. But if he is happy…fine."

"Deceived or not, he is sad at the birthday celebration that he wanted to have and to which he invited us. Hit me if I ever turn into him." Ross comments quite harshly. Then they divide the glasses among the five and walk to the table in a silence of complicity.

You sit in front of him, although you keep your expression with some distance and caution. They argued before, but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy the night either with him doing it or not. Inevitably you know that they will make peace and everything will return to its cycle.

On your wrist dance a glass of Gin Tonic, drink that you have discovered recently but has really dazzled you.

"Look at you, a little girl drinking alcohol on a saturday at this time. You should be playing dolls." Hiss George, sitting on the tip. He smiles at you with expression of comical cruelty, you swallow.

"Courtesy of Matty, my dear." You answer with the same tone on your smile. The two then laugh.

In the meantime, you kick Matty to look up and look at you. His state is static, he is leaning on the palm of one of his hands with a tired and depressed expression. He gets sad, and all he does is change the position of his hand before he drinks his beer.

"This bar sucks. This birthday sucks. We should have stayed home." He says finally, after a while. His tone is heavy, controlled by blood alcohol but quite truthful in the firmness of his words.

"Slow down, dummy." You play with your hands when your glass is halfway. You don't want to beg him to just drop his posture and enjoy her birthday. Until you listen to Britney Spears through the speakers and jump into your little boots. "Oh god, let's go to dance!"

Everybody nods and gets up, it seems the part of good music has begun. Everybody but Matty.

"I pass, I don't want." He answers, and leans against the back of the sofa. You nod angry but you don't bow your head for him, you know that later he'll regret being away and isolated.

"Can you get your damn ass out of the chair and come? It's your birthday, man." Adam shows up from somewhere that nobody notices after moving away from the girl he's been talking to. He has the most marked expression with severity and punctuates the sentence to make it more direct.

In a bad way, but at least he's up.

"But if she comes, what?" It whispers almost inaudible, but chance or not, you hear it.

"For God's sake, Matty! Cathe it's not going to come, understand it for once!" You can't stand it anymore, because you can't stand to see him suffer for waiting for someone who really doesn't deserve to have your best friend. It pains you to see that he doesn't understand it, and he keeps waiting for her so much that it's agonizing and worrying how far apart he is from everyone and how embedded he is in running away with her to places. "And if it takes her breaking your heart for you to understand it, I hope she does. I don't mind."

Adam, Ross and George listen to the cheers of the conversation but don't get into it, because they know they'll make it worse. In that sense, you and Matty have defined characters, and you have opposing personalities, leading to frequent clashes.

You leave him with the words in his mouth, without the slightest attempt to let him speak, you have no interest in hearing reproaches and cheap excuses. You also run away from your friends' arms but they don't complain, they just don't let you out of their sight for anything.

You walk to the center of the track when the song hits the chorus getting a lot of glances in the middle, but you don't care about them at all. You need to disconnect for a while from the last few hours, you need to feel something else running through your body other than anger.

When you're completely lost, you lose track of who you're dancing with. There are hands running through your body, coming and going, but you don't pay attention to them because that's when the alcohol starts to short-circuit your head. He's a boy who's about your height, has brown hair, and you can't tell the color of his eyes. He seems friendly. You don't stop dancing there because you really need to get too much dopamine out of your body because of how loaded you feel. You really don't stop dancing because you feel good, but even when this guy tries to take you away for something else, remember that it would be embarrassing for you tomorrow in front of your friends. And you don't want to give that memory to Matty when he's having such a hard time.

So you don't, you just give him your number and try to get back to your desk.

At that moment Matty does something he's never done before: he looks at you for the first time. He looks at you beyond his friendship. There's a feeling he has running through his veins the moment he finds you receiving someone else's hands inside of you that makes him want to blow up and take him off of you. He doesn't understand it, for him it's inexplicable. But then when you show up back with him, he understands.

Sure, he's known you since you wore loose shirts and sweatpants when you went to your sports classes. You grew up with them sharing their jokes and their way of life, so she considers you a sister in that sense. But he hasn't seen, so far, how much you've grown.

Genetics have had an effect on you, given you incredible proportions, and you've obviously grown in every way. When he sees you arrive on something as simple as a low shot and a muscular black, he feels like he could die the second he sees the skin reaction translucent from your stomach.

No, Matty can't be stuck with you. There's no way he fell for you. He can't, you're his best friend. He can't have feelings for the person that it would hurt him most to lose in your life. It must be the booze, it has to be. But Matty needs a change of air.

The change of air doesn't get him the best way. At the front door he sees the girl he's supposed to be celebrating her birthday with. In a fluffy leopard cover and a denim miniskirt is like Cathe walks into the bar, but without the slightest face of looking for Matty. She's there for something else, or someone else.

"Mattttttttty." You sit next to him with agility after a while. Alcohol has gone to your head after the completely psychedelic time you've been through, and now you're not angry. You just want to apologize for being so hard on me before the five of you go back to sleep at Matty's.

Exit to the disco and then sleepovers. It was amazing to you, you always had very funny pictures of your newly awakened friends leaving for a hangover. And even though you weren't left behind, you made sure everyone always had a cup of tea before sharing whatever happened last night.

"I just..i apologize for the fight." The tone of your voice takes him out of his trance of confusion. You're too drunk, and even if he's in a mess, he'll just take care of you until he knows you're safe. He always will, but more so when you're in this state. "Listen, I got you. No but...i really do. It's okay if you're sad because she didn't come, it's not the last birthday you'll have to celebrate." You drag the words from the tip of your tongue. You talk too fast and Matty laughs. "Hey! Don't you make fun of me, i'm apologizing." You push him a little with your hands.

"We weren't going to fight about this. You don't have to apologize." He pulls you forward when your body threatens to fall off the chair. Your colony floods their nostrils when the head of you is almost under his nose. You don't stop laughing even if you try. "Cathe is there."

Matty regrets talking almost instantly because he sees your face get serious, and you stop talking with that spark you had until just now. You don't keep laughing and just frown at the first expression your face may proceed.

Shit, he shouldn't have said that.

You focus it in the crowd and suppress a sigh of pure envy. You've never turned down the looks and you've never needed them, but you don't mind receiving them anyway. You know you're pretty, but when Cathe comes in, that whole mechanism falls at your feet.

Her legs so fine, her stature so perfect, her physiognomy and her whole body seems to be in the right place all the time. It's really impressive the figure he has and what he generates when he goes into places. You see how the miniskirt fits in her and you want to run to take off your pants and put on your pajamas. Well, you really understand why Matty's so after her and why he can't stop thinking about her. She's hypnotic, her waist, her hips, her breasts, her legs. And then there's you, arms crossed about to cry because the adrenaline rush just went down and you feel like you're thirteen and you're in front of a mirror for the first time.

You really wish she had a different way of showing herself, not because of the exhibition or anything like that, but you just wish her personality wasn't so sour and didn't generate so much rejection. Maybe in another universe she would fit in well with your group and they could be friends. But she just lets Matty down over and over and calls him when he gets bored and needs something else. Maybe that's what bothers you the most, knowing that he deserves something beyond her. She deserves better, maybe something like you.

No, you have to get that out of your head. Either way he'll end up marking his jaw on her in the nearest bathroom he finds to the round. Who could resist good legs and a short skirt?

"Say hello to her for me when you leave with her. Or not, better not do it." You laugh again, but now you do it with irony. "Come back to the table at four for when we leave, that's all. Go with her." You pat him on the back and swallow telling him that leaving with her is practically deadly, because it's a vice that Matty accepts to stay connected to the world. Maybe you just have to accept it.

"I won't go with her."

"Yeah, definitely not Matty."

Snort in a classic silence, which becomes awkward. Matty feels at an understand because now he can't figure out what's going on in his heart, let alone what he should do. Either option has its impact, and both are double-edged.

As a miracle or as punishment, the boys reappear in your field of vision with a bottle of champagne and a smile between their lips.

"They look perfect for each other, both damn broke." He ironizes George by moving his curly blonde hair in the air. His cheeks are hollowed out. "You know, classic." Aim at the bottle with your eyes.

"This is yours." Ross appears from your free side and stretches a vodka and coke into a small glass. His expression reflects something like, "Get drunk so you can't stand Matty, and thank him with a smile."

"How thoughtful, thanks Ross. You are so sweet." You throw him a kiss as a joke. In fact, you've always been like that with them because they usually make those kinds of jokes, but when you see Matty, he twists awkwardly, and you look at him with little understanding.

"However, you're officially eighteen Matty. I hope the next champagne we open is in a caravan going to play in some cheap pub in questionable condition." Breaks the silence Adam, uncorking the drink. "For what is coming."

Each makes a shot of the drink repeating the legend of what Adam previously said. You, even if you're away from the band, can't wish your lifelong friends the best. You expect them to succeed, and you expect them to go far. They all have enough personality to be a leading rock band, only that leap is missing, but it will inevitably come.

"When you become famous, please don't forget me." You mock but behind it there is a stop of sadness in your voice. You just know that they could be caught at any time and they'll have to leave, but maybe you'll have to stay.

"Hey, don't you dare say that." Matty automatically breaks your thoughts because he knows what you're getting into. His hand glides over yours, and without hesitation squeezes. "You are literally our little girl, we couldn't forget you."

So now vodka feels like tears. And then they get worse when the four of them are hugging you with you sitting in a chair. Their company is the most honest thing you've ever had, their friendship is the best thing that's ever happened to you.

When they split up and you're about to tell them how much you appreciate they, they all see the same scene from the same angle.

"Is that..?" Adam whispers to you from underneath. You look at it quickly and nod.

"Yes, is she."

Cathe, with the coat half-falling over her shoulders and a sweeping red top, kissing someone else who isn't exactly your best friend.

You focus the situation right next to you, not knowing if you want to test whether or not Matty is aware of the image in front of you, and then you discover that the person you're kissing is exactly the man you've been dancing before. It's definitely your lucky day.

"For God's sake." When Matty talks, the four of them turn to see him. No one can deny the widespread expression of concern. You're the one who's got Matty next to you after the hug, but he's got the look lost in betrayal.

You see everything on camera a little more scattered, but your head works more clearly when you see Matty staring at his knuckles, squeezing them until his skin turns white.

"Matty, don't." With a cold, worried look at your friends, you make them stand on the other side. Just for prevention. "Go back home."

"Yes, but not now." He speaks, completely possessed by the tone of anger and fury in him. "I might say only a word to this man." He defies when a sadistic smile appears on him.

Your head doesn't work fast enough or clear enough again, so you have to look for some quick fix before it all ends up in a bloodstain you don't want to have to heal. You just slide your right hand over it and with a kick you make it sit on the red chair. You have the solution, or so you think, and even if you'd rather not resort to punishment, maybe it'll placate this.

You look over and you don't actually see either of them around. It's the perfect time to leave.

"Do you really want me to have to see you dripping blood on your birthday?" Questions with the most influential tone you've ever used. You feel it's too condescending and you hate having to resort to the power of swaying such a marked outcome, but there's so much more at stake than that. "She is a stupid, let her go."

Your hand finds his again. The difference in temperature between the two causes the friction to generate sparks. Matty, with completely warm hands and you with your moderately cold ones. That shock makes him reconnect in a sense when he sighs.

George's murmur upsets everyone a bit, but, as Matty's best friend, he knows Matty probably doesn't expect everyone to hear him lament and feel he's being dragged. Anyway, he'll have this conversation with the four of them, but behind closed doors and when he's better. "We'll give you a moment, but please don't delay. It's four o'clock anyway, time to go."

You nod and give the three of them your best confident look, as they disappear into the crowd. Adam kisses your head as a sign of support.

"Matty, honey, breathe." You ask, speaking quietly. A tone that gives him inner peace. "It's a shit, I know. But doesn't worth it. I don't want to see you suffer anymore because of her."

The look you see below shatters you to the depths of your soul. Next time you see her, you'll kick her head in a toilet. "I'm tired of this. She just keeps hurting me over and over again even though she promises she won't do it again." His eyes made of glass are something you think you won't forget and will in fact be the cause of nightmares. You can't protect him from everything, but you hate to see him this bad.

"So maybe there's no point in continuing to fight for her." You lift the body off the seat and kiss its head with your eyes closed. "Do you want to home? We have a sleepover yet."

"You're coming with me?" He asks a moment later, putting on his blended jacket.

"Of course. I am your heavy weight." He smiles reluctantly but nods with gratitude.

They go outside and the breeze that draws the night makes them shiver. They find the boys without too much inconvenience. They look at Matty's face and then at you, but as you turn your head they understand that all is well and tranquility radiates through the bodies of the five in the cold London dawn.

"Well, it will be the most unbearably cold ten minutes." Murmurs George when he lights a cigarette. The golden chain he has around his neck rings every time he moves for how heavy it is. "I ask for the mattress on the wall."

"No way, George." Ross shoots when he hears the most comfortable mattress being stolen. "Not again."

"First-come, first-served." Adam punctuates the words making a play on them. "And if not I'll have to give everyone a pillow."

"In my own house?" Matty raises his voice pretending to hold his hand to his chest with an expression of pain. "That's not friendly."

"I'm so tired of all of you." Roll your eyes waving a smile as you look for a cigarette in your wallet. Your hands glide quickly on the bag and lighter.

They haven't started walking yet, they're just pretending to fight in the driveway while you're sitting on the street curb with the cigarette between your black nails. In a puddle of water you see your reflection and you're scared how much the black shadow has run out of your eyelid.

"Hey, can we share?" Matty's hand extends almost to your neck to help you get up once they stop arguing about who gets the best bed.

"You are incredibly insufferable, friend of mine." You take their hand and the rubbing of both of them leaves you goosebumps but for the moment you don't separate your hand, so there you are, clutching your best friend's hand. "You owe me a lot of cigarettes."

"Guys, when is the kiss?" George approaches you and you both look at him with a fixed, uncomfortable expression. "Yes, of course." He seems to come to a conclusion by the click he makes. "We're leaving. It's starting to get more cold."

"Tell it to me" For the first time, everyone realizes that you haven't worn any coats and notices how your skin stiffens on contact with the air. No, it really has nothing to do with the black hair next to you.

"On the way, guys. That bed won't win itself." George gives the order to leave somehow, and everybody starts walking.

You and Matty don't let go, and that makes eyes fly to you every once in a while.

"Do you want the jacket?" Matty whispers as he stretches out his free hand and takes the cigarette out of your mouth.

"Dude!" You complain by sharpening your voice. "No, i'm fine, really." You answer the question and even though he doesn't agree, he doesn't ask any more.

There's a time when the street gets narrower and you have to be closer together. It's also the moment when sleep leaves Matty down and ends up leaning on the curve of your neck almost without even being able to control it. Follow the impulse of needing to close his eyes.

When he realizes it, he looks at you like you're a little kid caught in a prank. "Lie down, I'll let you know when we arrive."

He nods and returns to that space again. The hands are loosened for convenience, but your right hand then meets the other hand and hooks again.

Then George looks at you and raises his eyebrows with too much interest in you. You look at him with a confused expression and do not stop moving your head to deny any sentence that applies to you.

The next five blocks are not silent, because the jokes decorate the atmosphere and now the discussion lies on which is the best drink for each occasion. They always have these kinds of debates when they leave the clubs. You feel Matty's heart rate drop to a completely different one, you know he's falling asleep, and as much as you hate having to wake him up, you do when they get home.

Leaning on the porch of the house of the lowest of the four, they all begin to yawn one after the other as they wait for the door to open. The moment the lock clicks, there is a tumult and bustle followed by the sound of footsteps running from the door to the living room.

When you find yourself the only one left outside, you go in and lock it. The cozy home envelops you and little by little the cold begins to cease. You're home in many ways.

"George! I thought you want the one at the end!" When you step foot in the living room, George is on top of Matty fighting for the biggest mattress, which is actually the only one placed horizontally unlike the others, placed vertically.

"I changed my taste." Matty has his head literally buried in the mattress, and George has half of his body suspended in the air as his shoes gravitationally swing. The best part is that both hairs are so similar that the only thing that distinguishes them is color, but now they seem to be joined.

You take advantage then that no one sees you to portray the moment with a quick photo on your phone.

"Do you want this? "I'm going to the couch." Adam looks at you and silently points to the sofa, and then to the mattress he's on.

"No, I like the sofa." You sneak out while the other two keep fighting, and you get close to Adam and Ross, who are actually already asleep. "Oh, he's a sweetie."

Ross's body goes up and down quietly when he's fully asleep, and it's really fast how soon it takes to get there. You sit at the feet of that mattress and watch the fight laughing with Adam, until he is overcome by sleep with a final yawn.

"Good night." You smile at him tenderly as he repeats the action.

"Hey, guys. Can you make less noise if you will continue fighting? These two have fallen asleep." You ask in a soft murmur. Both stop automatically, but neither gives way off the mattress.

"I'll go take off my makeup, when I get back I want to sleep in peace. Stop fighting over a bed, God." You get up gently trying not to wake Ross and walk out the door.

Obviously you don't have enough to remove make-up, but soapy water always saves you in cases like this. So you're ready when you see Matty's black glasses on the bathroom shelf. He's stopped using them lately because they make him insecure, but you think they look great.

When you come back, they both play "rock, paper or scissors" to define who will go to the free mattress, next to the sofa. Unfortunately for Matty's ego, he's the loser.

"Good night, George." You greet him from the door frame and he returns it with a smile. Even though he's the best at being annoying and making a joke out of everything, they both love each other and it's not something you need to prove to know it's true.

"Bye honey." While he's taking off his shoes, you do the same with your shoes and then you fall right on the couch. You've slept there a thousand times.

"You, here. Me, sofa." Verbalizes Matty as he can when he sits next to you, only with the difference in height between the two resting methods.

"Stop talking Matty. Sleep, there." Your head touches the pillow and the whole day falls on you. Your voice is completely tamed by sleep.

There's a few minutes of total silence where everybody seems to be asleep, but neither Matty or you are really doing it. Maybe you two need to talk about everything that happened in this night, but you don't know if it matters that much.

"Are you awake?" Whispers Matty, turning half a body to you.

"I am." You answer without moving. "Do you need something?"

"Can we talk about the night? I feel i got a lot to say." Your eyes open and you want to hold a sigh before time. "Come here."

You slide down, wrapped in your blanket so you don't lose heat, and sit in the free space you get.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with me when i get dumb like this." The hair falls off his forehead and there are strands hanging on him, it's a complete mess. "It was a bucket of cold water, but I guess I should have seen it coming."

"Are you okay? I know i was being rude all the night but i guess this is hurting you." You drag your body until your hips are level with their face, and they can look at each other while they have this conversation.

"It does, it's a awful feeling." You smile sadly and he trivializes it. "It would happen anyways, My fatal flaw is falling in love with people who will break my heart. But it's okay, it always comes back to be."

"Matty, that's really sad." He nods, but back, it makes it less important. "What?"

"It's just that even when it's this bad, you're always there. So it could never be wrong." His fingers slide down to take your wrist and wrap it around. "Thanks for taking care of myself. You know i appreciate you a lot, right?"

"I know. I do it too." The yolk of his thumb caresses your skin. "It's nothing, I'm here for that. Can I sleep here? I'm literally frozen."

"Yes yes, of course." He moves his body back a few inches until he considers your body to fit in well. "It's enough space?"

"Yes, sweetie." You slide your knees down on the mattress and your head bounces off the mattress. "Oh, I didn't tell you. The boy she was kissing tried to kiss me before."

"What, really?" Matty asks restless but in his eyes you can see that he is outraged. "He's a fool too for letting you go."

"Lately the people is being really dumb, but not us." Now you don't control your words because your thoughts open up ahead of him. Then you don't stop talking when a completely erratic idea crosses your mind. "If we are both single and reach forty, we should get into a couple. It would be funny."

Matty is getting a little closer to leaving the astral plane every minute. And that offer gives him a minimal hope to hold on to as he continues to discover that maybe if he omits his public crush on you he can enjoy you just as much. He can't lie to himself and he knows it, but in fact now that he has you closer than ever he has all the impulses running through his head. The urge to plant you a kiss, or to just lure you to it and make you sleep hugged by it, but it's content to have your forehead on his chest.

"Do you think it would work?" He asks repressing hope in him. Everything has now been painted a new color.

"Yeah, it's about us." You arrange the blanket in the best way so that it will shelter both of you and you close your eyes. "We'll be alright.

- - -

When Matty wakes up a few hours later, it's the lack of you against him that makes him rise abruptly to look for you for fear that something's happened and you've had to leave.

He calms down when he sees you sitting on the step to the yard, which continues past the kitchen and lets the smell of freshly brewed coffee flood her nostrils. He admires you from afar, as he always has, hoping one day to have coffee with you and hug you whenever you're cold. And then he just realizes something that maybe he should have known a long time ago. He looks at you with the purest love possible, and he knows he's never loved anyone like that. He knows it's true and it's healthy.

He goes back to the living room when he finds George awake. He looks at him without saying anything, but knowing that Matty has something to tell him. With them it's always that, words aren't always necessary.

"I think I'm in love with her."

"Yes, you sure are." George waved a smile that looked more like a sigh. "Go back to sleep, hysterical."

george could be me when he wants a comfortable mattress.

oh, i had a lot of fun writing these three parts of matty's birthday. def i would do it again.

let me know what you think about it, see you soon <333

my taglist is open so if you wanna be add just let me know!!

[rachoka]

Showing love

♡ note: My fic for my sweet lotus blossom @bimsha!! I have never written Scara before so this might be very ooc but I hope it's still fluffy enough for you to enjoy <33 @oni-girx psps you're in it too

"Would you put that phone away already? It's embarrassing being on the dance floor alone." Bimsha leaned in and smoothly picked his phone from his hands, earning herself a sharp glare.

"Please, I'm the one who's embarrassed having to watch your clumsy imitation of a fish on land."

Bim gasped in mock offence. "These are my new sick af dance moves, I'll have you know! Secondly, you weren't even watching me."

"I'm saving the little sanity I have left. She already made the smart choice to close her eyes." He glanced over at Oya who was cosily snoozing away on the other end of the sofa with a blanket draped over her. Tonight, the three of them had gathered at Bimsha's apartment once again to celebrate her triumph over her exams.

Neither Oya nor himself, of course, were surprised at Bim's great academic proficiency but they all agreed that relaxing was just as important as burying your nose into books for weeks—if nlt more.

Oya had been the most excited for this three-person party but, ironically enough, was also the first person to conk out after a couple of songs and slices of fresh margarita pizza. He envied her relaxed spirit but also currently cursed her for so blatantly abandoning her position as the other person keeping the conversation going. Out of options and too flustered to watch Bimsha so radiantly enjoying herself to the fullest, he had been forced to retreat to his phone.

But of course Bim wouldn't cut him some slack... She could read him like an open book.

"What's with all the snark? Live a little," Bim teased, but seeing he had no plans to move his ass an inch from the sofa, she relented and threw herself down next to him on the soft cushions. Then she returned his phone to him and gently moved Oya so her head was resting comfortably on her lap.

He watched her run her fingers through her friend's hair and huffed. From the table, he offered her a glass of water from which she gratefully took a large swig of. Silence fell between them, and the upbeat gradually music faded into the background. The warm led lights had drowned the room in a tranquil, cozy atmosphere, so much so that it was difficult do anything else but sink into the sofa and appreciate the simple beauty of the moment.

For him, this appreciation, although subconsciously, came from knowing that these kinds of moments were something he had only once dreamt of—that to have friends, people he could place his trust in and enjoy the company of was a treasure in its own right. Sometimes he did wish he had the closeness that the two shared. Thank whatever god was out there, however, that nobody else knew those thoughts. He'd rather be stoned at the stake than let anyone know such embarrassing things went through his head.

Yet although his thoughts did not project themselves as words, they most certainly did in his body language, and it just so happened that Bim caught onto this a second before he did, noticing the familiar stoic eyes lingering on her fingers that threaded through Oya's hair.

"Not going back to poisoning your brain with internet?" Bim smiled smugly.

"Hmph, as if such a measly creation could ever influence me," he scoffed with a roll of his eyes, conveniently averting his gaze.

Bim only tutted at that. "You'd be surprised. In fact, it has been proven by multiple studies that social media has highly contributed to mental illnesses such as anxiety and depression."

"I know," he sighed. "I watched you win a whole debating competition thanks to that topic." He had also chucked a chair at one of her opponents after the competition because the wretched vermin dared to accuse her of cheating her way to victory. He only wished he had thrown it hard enough to send the imbecile to the hospital.

Bim grinned, placing her free hand on top of his unguarded head and ruffled his hair. Her eyes crinkled softly in the dim light, full of affection and too beautiful to be looked at for long. He backed away to the corner of the sofa. The sofa unfortunately was not very spacious to begin with so he had to rely on wit as his second line of defence.

"Which demon possessed you this time?"

"It's called showing love," Bim said, unfazed. "You're very obvious sometimes, you know that, Hat-guy?"

What what an absolutely ridiculous claim. He had never shown such stupid emotions . . . but he knew did not need to for Bim to understand him. It was frustrating, infuriating and disgustingly comforting. In the face of her undeniably endearing behaviour, he could only cross his arms and pretend he was not enjoying it.

"How absurd."

"Ugh, tell me about it . . ." Oya groaned from Bim's lap. "Next time you're gonna flirt, wake me up first or get a room." She rolled onto her back and glared up at the two sleepily. "Just don't pretend I'm not here."

Bim chuckled, pulling her closer. "Sorry, we'll include you in the next big event."

He scowled and leaned back against Bim's shoulder, glad the attention was finally off him. "As if it's ever possible not to notice you."

"Of course," Oya cackled. "You've been wishing so badly you were in my position right now."

"No—"

"Haha! I'm Bim's favourite!"

"Pfft. As if I give a—"

Suddenly, Bim pulled them both into her arms, halting the banter just like that, just like always. "I love you both, my dears."

Seeing the smile on her face, the two fell quiet. That smile was all that mattered.

"Love you too, Bimshs!"

"Yeah . . . love you."

[thessalian]

Molly!Rook vs the Nadas Dirthalen

The Lighthouse, in a bunch of mismatched chairs

Neve: So you've been wandering around and hopping all over the place and something went ... 'clunk'. Why did something go 'clunk'?

Molly!Rook: Found a sort of riddle on the wall over there; moved some statues, got us a music room. ...Can ... any of us actually play a piano?

Harding; Neve: *look at Molly like she's absolutely out of her mind*

Molly!Rook: Hey, just thought I'd ask! Anyway, there were some shinies in there so I'm happy either way.

Neve: Forget 'Rook'; Varric should have named you 'Magpie'.

Harding: That's a myth too. Corvids are actually a little afraid of shiny objects and won't go after them unless they think it's food--

Neve: Myths walk among us, Harding.

Molly!Rook: My tendency for collecting shinies aside ... we gotta find out what's up with Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain and I do not believe I am talking about my gods like you would about your suspects.

Neve: Same principle. Just ... uglier. Which means a thorough investigation.

Harding: And while we get all our ducks in a row, people just ... die?

Neve: We go in without information, we're dead and no help to anyone. Back me up here, Rook.

Molly!Rook: Oh, right, guess nobody mentioned that the Veil Jumpers mostly let me go because I valued a whole bunch of people's lives over information and shiny things.

Neve: ...I should be glad you're not just a magically talented myth-magpie, but I still prefer by-the-book.

Molly!Rook: Either way it means back to the ritual site. So maybe we can find clues while that ... tentacled thing that's apparently one of my gods tries to eat our faces.

Harding: I like them!

Neve: You would.

And, back in Arlathan Forest

Molly!Rook: Hey! At least it's not raining demons or being actively destroyed! That's kind of a win!

Neve: Erm ... what's that?

'That': *is a bunch of Veil Jumpers getting their asses kicked by uppity armour*

Irelin: I can't ... shut ... it down!

Strife: *wrecks shit up instead*

Molly!Rook: Nice to see you taking a page out of my book, Strife.

Strife: Molly. Or ... 'Rook' now, I suppose. Either way, what did you do this time?

Molly!Rook: You're blaming me for uppity armour?

Strife: Most trouble I encounter is down to you. We lost everything when you--

Molly!Rook: Oh my gods-who-are-wanting-to-wreck-up-the-world-right-now, will you let it go?!? You just valued people over shinies, so you should--

Strife: Wait. Our gods who want to what?!?

Molly!Rook: Yeaaah you might want to hold on to your collective butts for this one.

Later, elsewhere in Arlathan

Neve: Nice move convincing Harding to stay behind. I'm not sure how well she would have managed that hike.

Molly!Rook: Eh, I was mostly serious. I've heard stories; she can take out an undead's eye at a hundred paces while up to her waist in swamp muck; that's shooting I want covering my folks. Now-- Um.

Neve: You feel it too, huh? Does Arlathan always feel this weird?

Molly!Rook: Weird, yes. This weird? No.

Neve: Wonderful. Feels cleaner than blood magic, at least...

Uppity Armour: *comes to life*

Bellara: *takes it down*

Molly!Rook: Irelin's going to want to sit you down and take notes on that move.

Bellara: Oh, you're them! Strife says it's Rook now! Usually while swearing. A lot. Why are you looking for me? I'm not late for check-in yet!

Molly!Rook: And you were just going to stay out here when you know this place feels weirder than usual?

Bellara: Well, the weird did get through my hyperfocus after awhile but then I realised I was stuck in a Veil bubble and you are too now, by the way. So unless we want to explode, we'd better shut it down first.

Molly!Rook: Well, since I like my viscera in my body instead of dangling from trees over a two-mile radius, I will help with that.

Neve: Well, with that incentive...

Several suits of uppity armour and a bunch of demons later...

Bellara: Okay, while I work on this ... I have to ask. I'm a good shot with a bow and everything, but I had no idea you could get that much precision with a ballista! How did you do headshots on falling darkspawn with a ballista?!? And why don't you use a bow?

Ogre: *crashes through nearest wall*

Molly!Rook: ...Oh fuck off. *uses Ultimate*

Ogre: *basically melts under bolt of fire incarnate*

Bellara: .........Oh. Okay. I get it now.

On the way to the Veil Jumper camp

Molly!Rook: Hey, chin up, Bellara! You dropped the Veil bubble and you got your Nadas Dirthalen shiny! All you have to do is give it a bit of a tweak and you'll have all that knowledge you were after! I mean ... hopefully, because that was the voice of someone with a really punchable face, but I guess spirits have to perform their function-- Oshit.

The Veil Jumper Camp: *looks more like a forward camp in a war zone*

Strife: Most of our Jumpers are hurt, missing, or worse, and you come back alive.

Molly!Rook: With another one of our Jumpers, so how about you stop pretending you haven't forgiven me for the map thing and tell me how I can help?

Strife: Well ... you could check out D'Meta's Crossing. That feels like a focal point right now.

Molly!Rook: On it. Bellara, gonna need you to make sure there's a boat.

Harding: I. Am. Going. WITH YOU. This time.

Neve: Rook, will you--? Wait. Where'd they go?

Molly!Rook: *returning laden with goodies* Okay! Bellara, Harding, some upgrades for you, I got to upgrade this spiffy knife I found - never was much keen on the staff, gotta say - and I couldn't afford the helmet but that's for later, I guess.

Neve: Where did you get all that?

Molly!Rook: Went to talk to Amylia. I found some quality salvage while we were out, and some other stuff to trade. Figured we could use the upgrade if D'Meta's Crossing is so bad we're not hearing from it at all. ...What, you thought I collected stuff just because it was shiny?

Neve: ...Pride prevents me from answering that. I ... don't suppose...?

Molly!Rook: Sorry, Neve. No one around here uses quite your level of kit. We ever make that eluvian take us back to Minrathous, I'll take you shopping; promise.

Bellara: You have a functioning eluvian?!?

Molly!Rook: If you don't mind that it only goes between Arlathan and a little piece of ... well, I'd call it real estate, but it's in the Fade, so...

Bellara: You guys live in the Fade?!?

Neve: You know, you tinker with elven artefacts so well, maybe you could get our eluvian working--

Molly!Rook: SURREAL ESTATE! That's what we have; surreal estate!

Bellara: ...I know you already have a Veil Jumper, but ... tinkerables and shinies and they are adorable and--

Harding: D'Meta's Crossing first. Job interview later.

[frostise]

questions for mun: who are five of your favorite characters? (in the rp community or otherwise), and if you could tell your muse something, what would it be?

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐍   ┇   accepting ♡

13. Who are five of your favorite characters? (in the rp community or otherwise)

i'll do a random list of characters from different fandoms i like. my top favvs in DC would be kf and batman but it's too obvious AND it would be unfair as well 🤷‍♀️

connor from detroit: become human. he's just a baby boy! i love him the moment i played his scenes and his music theme is phenomenal! bryan dechart really did a nailed his connor's character because i instantly liked him when he came on screen at the start of the game. he's very sweet and cute tbh it's hard to not love him 💖💖💖

reverse flash from DC. his insanity and severe level of pettiness is what made him an appealing yet disturbing villain because of the crazy lengths he'll go to devote himself to achieve any goal without the ties of morals. i really love his comics and animated depictions the most tbh. especially in justice league: the flashpoint paradox and his goofy self in lego dc super-villains. overall, i think he's pretty neat even though i love to hate him a daily basis and he'll always sound like c. thomas howell to me when i get the chance to read a new comic of his ^^

widowmaker from overwatch. what a gut wrenching lore for a character so cold-blooded. she's the only reason why i used to play overwatch before it became a toxic community. i love everything about her, especially when she's quick to fire a vicious comeback no matter what or who it is she's addressing to. actually now that i realise it? she has similar vibes to louise lmfao. but only if she willingly 'evil'. but anyway! widow will always be my number one favourite character in overwatch forever. nobody can take her place ♡

azula from avatar. she's too iconic to ignore and neglect on this list tbh. the girl was literally 14 in the show and a straight up menace everytime she appeared on screen. it honestly made me think she was actually going to capture/kill one of the members on aang's squad. she's that terrifying. but then again she's pretty funny as well. i'll give her credit for that. anyway, azula is my top tier villain that gets too much hate and suffers from mischaracterization in the comics. despite that issue; the blue fire is so cool to watch in her battles and everything about her downfall is super well written! she's a inspiration to me ♡

slenderman from slender: the arrival. my favourite childhood horror character of all time!! i had to add him here. it's one of my favourite og games i've ever played and slenderman is a legend to the horror genre itself. i definitely had nightmares about him because i thought he was real when i was younger lmfao. the game just made it more terrifying because he always wins no matter what the main characters do

20. If you could tell your muse something, what would it be?

let's be real here—i would never in my life make contact with a super criminal and tell her off so carelessly because she would beat my sorry ass instantly, but if she was in a electric chair then i would definitely tell her to take more anger management classes, be less rude to people trying to be nice to her and quit killing people just because you got hissy with them and knowing her? she won't really listen to me! she'll call me a peasant 😔✋🏼

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 115 - Every Rose Has Its Thorne

Ophelia's in Del Sol Valley to represent The Main Squeeze at the Starlight Accolades tonight, because their latest single was nominated for Best Song!

I don't think Xander is technically allowed to attend because he's not famous, but the Watcher is gonna teleport him in anyway.

Xander: Good luck, Lemon Cake.

Ophelia: I'm just happy we got nominated. Thank you for being here though.

Host: Let's get a move on, folks, I can't cash that big ol' check if there's no show!

The first Accolade goes to Thorne Bailey for being an all around great Sim! Don't know why that's a category, but okay.

Don't get used to this sitting arrangement. The crowd was apparently playing musical chairs during the entire ceremony.

Thorne: I'd like to thank my beautiful wife Octavia, our son Orange, and our two Neighborhood Stories kids the Watcher doesn't know the names of.

Ophelia can't believe she's in the same room as Thorne Bailey. She wonders if Hector ever did talk trash to him about her…

Host: And the winner of our next Starlight Accolade is… Some random teenager!

The random teen is named Sasha and she wore her finest randomized outfit!

Sasha: This one's for my stans who threatened every member of the Accolade Committee. Literally couldn't have done it without you. Rando Army represent!

Okay, enough "Watcher" commentary, this is me, Kelsey, talking. I have never had a Sim go to the Starlight Accolades but is it ALWAYS this chaotic? Everybody keeps getting up and talking over the host, nobody stays in their seat, or sits in a seat at all! It's a NIGHTMARE

Host: Our last winner is-

Megumi Ito interrupts with her horrendous violin skills.

Host: Thank you for that, Megumi! You're famous for being a skier and have no musical interests so I don't know why you're doing this but why not.

Even this guy's getting annoyed at the chaos.

Host: I'm gonna be honest, gang, the Watcher doesn't remember this girl's name and neither do I. She's also some random famous teenager.

Tea Neighjur: Thank you to my FlipFlop followers, and my manager for bribing the judges to give me this award! …I mean the Watcher. Mwah!

Ophelia: That was… something.

Xander: Sure was. Sorry you guys didn't win.

Ophelia: Eh, brushing elbows with celebrities was kind of fun.

Speaking of… Thorne's getting ready to leave. Ophelia would love to share her side of the story regarding her encounter with Hector.

Ophelia: I'm gonna try to catch Thorne. You want to come with?

Xander: Nah, I don't want to pass out and flop on the ground, this suit is dry clean only. I'll just get a drink for double the usual price at the bar. Good luck!

Ophelia: Mr. Bailey, wait! Can we talk before you leave?

Thorne: Apparently we can, because you're doing something besides asking for a selfie. You're a celebrity too, yeah? Pardon, don't think we've met.

Ophelia: Ophelia Lemon. I'm the lead singer of The Main Squeeze.

Ophelia assumes that's not going to ring any bells for him but-

Thorne: Ah, Orange listens to your music all the time. You've got a good set of pipes. Sorry I didn't recognize you, just haven't had the chance to look you up myself, I suppose.

She's speechless.

Ophelia: Thank you. That's a big honor Mr. Bailey.

Thorne: Thorne's fine.

Ophelia: Right. Listen, Thorne, if Hector Laurent told you anything about me, none of it is true.

Thorne dwells on this much too long for her liking.

Thorne: Who the bloody hell is Hector Laurent?

Ophelia: Uh… he's the owner of the wedding venue you got married at. He said you stayed in touch.

Thorne: The bloke with the fedora?

Ophelia: Yeah.

Thorne: I mean, he kept texting me saying if I ever remarried he'd give me a discount, but I wouldn't say we're close.

Ophelia: Of course that little… Well, thanks for hearing me out, anyway.

Thorne: No problem, dear. Mind if I get an autograph for Orange?

Ophelia: Of course!

She tries to steady her shaking hands as she signs an autograph for the son of the biggest musician out there.

Thorne: Thanks, love. That'll earn me some cool dad points.

Ophelia: Being Thorne Bailey isn't enough?

Thorne: Apparently not. Kids.

Thorne: Pleasure to meet you, Ophelia. Keep your chin up. You'll have your own Accolade someday.

Ophelia: Thanks, Thorne. That means a lot.

Fan: OMW your faves could never!!!

Ophelia: Do you ever get used to the fans?

Thorne: Yeah. Honestly the ego boost is nice. Take care.

Thorne disappears into the night. Ophelia might not be going home with a trophy, but some kind words from a 4-star celebrity are good too.

This fan is definitely going to go home and write Ophelia Lemon/Thorne Bailey fanfic but she's too happy to care.

Ophelia tries to go back in to check in on Xander but someone approaches her.

Fan: Wow, Ophelia Lemon, in the flesh! I gotta say, the Accolades were totally rigged this year. We stan our citrus queen!

Ophelia: Oh! Thank you!

Fan: Can I have your autograph?

Ophelia: Sure!

Ophelia tries to get back in the building several times but fans keep coming up and asking for hugs and selfies. How can she deny the people that have given her the opportunity to keep doing what she loves?

When she finally pulls away from the crowd, she runs into Brytani.

Ophelia: Hey, Brytani, remember me?

Brytani: You're making yourself awfully hard to forget, kid, and I mean that in a good way. You're popular tonight.

Ophelia: I guess so. I've never had this many fan encounters in one night before. Guess it's a coincidence.

Brytani: Honey, come on. Thorne Bailey knows who you are. He barely remembers who I am and we dated for like a year.

Ophelia: I think he just knows me because Orange listens to me.

Brytani: Thorne doesn't strike me as dad of the year. He must be hearing your name elsewhere too.

Brytani: And not just that, he had a CONVERSATION with you. Thorne doesn't speak to anyone that's not a 4-star celebrity besides his own wife and kids.

Ophelia: Well, I'm not a 4-star celebrity and he spoke to me.

Brytani: I'm really gonna have to spell it out for you, huh.

Brytani: Ophelia, you made it. You're a 4-star celeb.

Ophelia: Wh-What? We didn't even win an award tonight!

Brytani: Only like one of those are given fairly. You think anybody's reading Tea Neighjur's legacy thread? Nope! It'll be your turn soon, my fellow Proper Celebrity!

Brytani: Trust me, I can tell. You'd be sparkling if the Watcher hadn't turned that feature off.

Things did feel… different. Maybe Brytani has a point.

Ophelia: Oh my Watcher! I think you're right!

Brytani: Go out there and pose for that crowd. You've earned it.

Ophelia basks in the flashing lights as some of her fans whisper excitedly amongst themselves and others take pictures of her and shower her in praise.

"She's slaying tonight!" "YASSS QUEEN!" "Mommy! Sorry. Mommy! Sorry. Mommy! SORRY! MO-"

Ophelia tries her hardest to stay humble, but just for tonight, she allows herself to be a little self-absorbed. After all, becoming a Proper Celebrity is something to feel good about!

While all of this has been happening, Xander's just been enjoying his drink, unable to talk to anybody else at the bar because they're all celebrities.

Octavia's waiting for her husband, because she's too juiced to realize he already left without her lmao