#stuck theory wins

[hisbucky]

911: S6E17 Thoughts

Back to back episode thoughts post, mostly because I didn’t want to leave this until the day before like the previous one. *insert laughter*

Anyways we have the Madney outcome we’ve all been waiting for since yester-week and my heart is full and soft.

Special laughs for the silly Eddie trying to find a date scenes. 100% not upset about it because of how much the man is failing at it. *insert more laughs*

In other news, they are actively taking advantage of the cheeks:

Pour me some drinks too, Buck.

My honest reactions catalogued:

Mostly spoiler-free spoilers ahead for sure—

Going by order... yikes, again with the signs, LEG, that doubletake, “golf?!?!”, cheeks, aggressive disney sparkling sounds, IT GOT STUCK LMAO, LUCYLUCY, awkwarddd, canon age denial times, now this is a sign, *insert sigh*, *insert another sigh*, I needed a good cry why not, domestic buck aesthetic, STOP IT CHIM, MADDIE HEN MY LOVES, HARD TOPIC BUT LOVES, oopsies, MADNEY YES, why are you here, why are YOU here, cheers baby!

—yep, that’s about it.

[pokemon1oadvanced]

So like, I know Benji are going to make up next season cause the Camp Fam are so codependent there’s no way Kenji would be able to stay mad for that long. And that alone giving me hope for another solo Benji hug is whats keeping me going 😤

(And cause by the third episode Yaz is gonna be so done with them, she’ll lock them in a room and won’t let them out until they’ve made up)

[peepingwizard]

this man was a mad scientist in the woods in the 1970's, ofc he smoked like a chimney.

full sketch page beneath cut

[pixelwishess]

I’m trying to have a coherent thought here about Ruby and Neo parallels. I’m getting on my tinfoil hat here bare with me.

In Roman Holiday Neo doesn’t really have motives aside from wanting someone to understand her. She finds that in Roman who is the first person to acknowledge her abilities and treat her like an actual genuine friend. Her only goal in the Fall of Beacon was to stay with Roman. So much of her identity was tied to him because she was able to comfortably be herself around him.

We already know that Ruby’s identity is also tied to someone important to her, her mom. That doesn’t need much explaining. I think in order for either of them to move forward they would need to let go of the metaphorical ghosts they’re chasing which is easier said than done and I’m not entirely sure that Neo would be able to as spiteful as she is.

Basically what I’m saying is Ruby VS Neo but add in some Ego Death.

[devondespresso]

my steddie babes and non-babes alike (and other stranger things tumblrinians) i am deathly curious because i see these tropes pretty frequently and i usually don't enjoy time fuckery (there's maybe two exceptions) but i wanna know if its like really popular so

also no hate to this at all i genuinely don't hold any negative emotions towards it and if you paid me to stand on a soapbox and wax on about how i don't read it ill stand there like this 🧍 and say "uh idk its like.... uhhhhh.... idk i just don't read it...."

also also if you love this or love to write this thats so slay actually!!! theres so much you can do with time fuckery and its like objectively a pretty neat trope

also also also this doesn't apply to theories about time fuckery in the show, for some reason ill read pages and pages of ur guy's theories about it but not in fics?? idk

[river-starling]

I'm ignoring the pervious polls because this intent is different on voting. I'm making a [tumblr] themed section on my bookshelf to represent the impact it had on my life. I'm stuck between characters though, to represent

The Most Iconic [tumblr] Known Sexyman

This isn't based on what's going on inside here, or who's more loved here, but outsiders perspectives. Where someone sees them and thinks "oh yeah the character from [tumblr]!"

Please reblog so I can get a fuller answer. Baby girl Reigen Mob Psycho is banned from this post. So is Vanilla Extract.

[dansemacabre]

i’ve been thinking about “sixer, it would eat you alive” since i read it and. man. every layer you peel back makes it worse. im not a bill apologist but. shit

if you (1) take it at face value, it paints bill as an apologetic murderer in his single (and maybe sole) open moment of regret. he doesn’t let his walls down often- only with ford do we even get to see the remnant of his galaxy, see the “actual remorse” ford describes, get just a hint of his origins. but he does it, because he thinks ford should know.

if you (2) take it from ford’s point of view, as something he committed to journal three, like. wow. imagine being so committed to a being that you’d hunt down and kill the monster that destroyed his home, only to (assumably) figure out later that that being was the monster. the small moments of trust, the “good times”, are so key to manipulation. how long did ford hold onto that one shred of vulnerability? no wonder ford stayed for as long as he did. in his eyes, bill was a survivor. ford wanted to survive too.

(slight tw below for unreality- any time i mention our reality, i mean “our reality” as a narrative device used in the book of bill as a proxy for the idea of bill being in our reality, since he can’t actually be in our reality. all of this is a fictional theory about a show/book with fictional contents!)

but if you (3) remember that “even his lies are lies” and absolutely Nothing bill says should be trusted. Whoo boy. if i read tbob right the book itself is being created in the theraprism (even tho it shows up with the ciphertologists at some point? idk that’s a whole other post). it’s meant to show what the reader wants to see; it manifests in our reality as what the collective fandom wants to see. so if we want to see truth, if we want to see where bill ended up and who he actually is, there’s a non-zero chance that the whole interaction was a complete fabrication.

imagine bill, stuck in the actively harmful, probably earth-illegal theraprism, once again being forced to be “fixed” and molded into something more palatable, being forced to conform no matter how much it hurts. (i know natural uncontrollable mutation ≠ just so much murder and destruction and chaos, but. you can’t ignore the similarities. bill has obviously been thinking about those silly straws.)

he looks back on everything that went wrong, back on his relationship with ford, back through every dimension where he wins. would that one moment, that one truth amid centuries of lies, have saved him from purgatory? if he had just been open? shown his damage? maybe he did think of his parents, or his henchmaniacs (especially the oracle). people who he might have once opened up to. maybe he just wanted to open up to someone again.

so in his own weird way, stuck in a cell, he reshaped reality again. in this reality, for this fleeting moment, he had been someone worth believing. and ford had listened, hell, ford had wanted to help. looking back, knowing how he treated ford, knowing how ford ended up because of it, maybe bill would have said the most honest thing he’d ever told ford: i am the monster, i am not worth your time or belief, and i will eat you alive.

[missdrarrydawn]

Hera wanted Athena to win

Guys hear me out, this is my conspiracy theory LMAO

I feel like in God Games when Athena is battling the Gods to help Ody, of all of them, Hera wanted her to win the whole time.

Hera is the final "level" of the game, and if Athena convinces her to say yes, then it's a yes and Ody must be released, and I'm sure Hera knew that fact.

Now look at what all the other Gods say.

Each of them gives a very specific reason why they don't want Ody to be freed.

Apollo's reason is slaughtering the sirens.

Hephaestus' reason is the Scylla sacrifice.

Aphrodite's reason is abandoning his mother.

Ares' reason is being cowardly in the Trojan war.

And then, we get to Hera, and she's just like 'Yeah just give me any good reason and I'll agree to let him go'. She has no qualms with Odysseus, she has no motivation even to fight with Athena on this. She doesn't really require convincing, per se.

She's legitimately just asking Athena to give her any half decent justification so she can say yes and make it look legit in front of Zeus.

The whole time as Athena is giving Hera reasons, Hera is also continuously egging her on to give her a better one, a more sound one that would look really convincing. She's saying things like 'Try Harder' and 'You can do better than that.'

So my theory is that after Zeus announced the God Games, Hera saw it as a chance to stick it to him for once, for all his cheating and disloyalty to their marriage, so she wanted Athena to win, and played her cards accordingly.

All she needed was Athena to give her any half-decent justification for her to say yes, so that the games look legitimate, but ultimately she was on her side the whole time. She made the game really easy for Athena, because she gave her free reign to think of absolutely anything and everything she possibly could in favor of Ody, instead of giving her a specific, niche argument she has to fight against.

Additionally, Hera is the goddess of marriage in the pantheon, and even if she doesn't care the least little bit about Odysseus, I am willing to bet she very much cares about Penelope.

Think about it, Hera herself is stuck in an awful marriage to Zeus and is not very happy about that. And she would 100% relate to Penelope's struggles of being alone, missing her husband and trying to ward off the suitors who are trying to force her into a, let's be real, abusive marriage with Antinous.

Hera as a wife definitely sympathizes with Penelope as a wife, and releasing Odysseus so he can return to Penelope is the only way to help her be protected again.

So there you go. My conspiracy is that Hera for one absolutely wanted Athena to win the entire time. I think she at the very least tried to help her, I mean she couldn't have known that Zeus would fucking kill her for winning LMAO

[always-just-down-the-street]

A Theory In Light of The Reality of The Situation Regarding OJ and Taco

As is tradition for the last few posts, MAJOR INANIMATE INSANITY SPOILERS! Not just II S2 16 this time, though that DOES play into the major crux.

So I had a big think and I made a big theory.

Something that kinda stood out to me in seeing the reactions to II S2 16 is how much OJ's narcissism is brought up- the hats, the titling of it being HOJP instead of HOP, keeping himself the focus and stuff like that, to the point where his choice of what to do after he won was to make a hotel called Hotel OJ.

But then I thought about how...he won and more importantly, Taco lost. And then this line came to mind:

And the phrase "I was built to win!", after the revelations of II S2 16, takes on such a different meaning now. Obviously this was pre-the decision of the plot twist so consider this half theory, half headcanon, but something that stuck out to me is that the twist only kicks in after Taco loses. After Taco loses...because of Bow, who was always a wild card in the grand scheme of things.

...What if Taco was supposed to win S1, but Bow ruined it?

Now I kinda brushed this off when I had this yesterday but then I saw that image in a tweet and more importantly...this response.

And now I'm thinking there might actually be something to this.

Now, originally I believed that the paths that Taco and OJ ended up taking were their programming trying to correct itself and rapidly getting everything messed up. OJ's narcissism and pride are shoved into the facade of a winner, a natural leader, while Taco's entire character is rewritten to justify her losing- villains don't win, so she much be a villain for her to suddenly lose like that when she so clearly had it in the bag!

...Originally being the keyword. Because while I think this is still true to a certain degree, a different question reared its head into my brain and has not left.

What if OJ was supposed to turn villain when he lost?

It would fit the narrative- selfish, prideful person loses everything at the last step and turns villainous to take what is "rightfully his". But then Bow messed everything up, and now Taco, who lost instead, must take on the twist villain role.

When I first told this theory to a friend, they pointed out that that means instead of Taco playing Pickle, OJ was probably going to turn out to be playing Paper the whole time. But the story had to correct itself, and thus...

The bottom line is essentially that Taco and OJ are, to some degree...broken.

(No I will not apologize for this theory.)

[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.

[nenoname]

Details in Stan's letter that still haunt me

(how long will I continue thinking about a two page letter that's technically not even that long because Stan's handwriting is fricking large? .....you don't need to worry about that.)

The bro code only shows up in the Lost Journal pages, and to me Stan's message feels like it purposely echoes Ford's "miss you" in the college photo (and for some reason the message doesn't appear in the website version of the photo?) ....or alternatively Stan simply noticed how distressed Ford was about this entire thing and wanted to support him in a way so he can be sappy but without the kids knowing, or both!

Stan's claim about the Oregon lottery contradicts what the Lost Legends website said about Tate McGucket's ability to predict the winning numbers!! ...but also breaking into the Lottery HQ is definitely a very Stan thing to do and it's not the first time small gags have been retconned

Despite spending most of his letter nonchalantly destroying him, the taunt about ripping a dollar bill in half is the only part where Stan is directly responding to Bill. Maybe it's the two of them having similar ways of thinking but it's rather specific considering Bill taunts the reader about it...

And after Bill spends an entire book calling Ford Sixer despite normally using a pretty wide range of nicknames for him, Stan then spends his letter mainly referring to Ford as Sixer, even though post-Weirdmageddon he tends to use a mix of nicknames. And it's not like he'd gotten to see Bill himself for long, let alone see him steal that childhood nickname (that is only used twice in the actual show btw!). Did Ford tell him what happened or...?

With all this and the website's "still on your mind" message, what I'm getting at is my tinfoil hat theory of Stan somehow seeing some of the pages the irl readers saw, even when it should be personalised to the specific reader, and he's been lying about it for some reason. Considering that the book flat out doesn't make an attempt at convincing Soos, I find it a stretch that whatever Bill was telling Stan via the book was an attempt to convince him either.

Wouldn't be the first time Stan's skimmed through a book and lied about what it meant to him.

(...Now I kinda wanna see a story about the family reading their versions of the book and making fun of it while Stan is improvising every single one of his pages and blatantly ignoring Bill's attempts to mock and taunt him)

But also I'm fascinated by the letters that only showed up on the website (aka the Soos+Wendy+McGucket+Pacifica ones). I'm assuming that Mabel had stuck them on after Stan's letter... but they were basically eaten by the book itself because seeing Stan's letter kick-started Bill's breakdown which takes up the rest of the book

[starlightsreigns]

slow down | the judgment day

summary ⇢ maia looks innocent, that's her trademark, but a certain group of misfits knows an act when they see one. it's time to test their theory, and they've met their match - she's their hardest opponent yet and she's here to win. warnings ⇢ 18+ nsfw! unprotected sex, public (sorta) sex, cursing, drinking. smut x1000, minors please don't interact!! word count ⇢ 3.4k

author's note ⇢ pls this is truly material to call me a sl*t, but here we are with NO shame. one of the only work that I have that's more than two people, so... yeah. part two, maybe???

darling, slow down

Maia’s hips sway to the beat of the loud music blaring in the club. Her hands are in the air, completely in a different headspace, thanks to the immeasurable amount of liquor she’s consumed in the past hour and a half. Her friends surround her, almost as a shield, in their own worlds. Her eyes slowly close, feeling free, not even realizing the eyes that we’re watching her, interested, thirsty, and ready to pounce.

Damian sits at the back of the room, perfectly centered to where Maia is dancing. He crosses his arms, so transfixed on her that he doesn’t even hear what his stablemates are talking about. 

“Uh-oh, look who found Maia.” Dominic slaps his hand on Damian’s shoulder, peering over to watch Maia. “Damn, man, I get it, she’s..” He trails off, almost lost in her movements. 

As the song changes, Maia opens her eyes, perfectly falling on Damian through the crowd. She smiles realizing his gaze on her. For a second, she contemplates her next move, but the fire from his gaze lights something deep inside her and she goes with the action she’d never do on a sober mind because she was way too chicken to ever do it. Her long legs are bare, her skirt is short and her stride is long and sultry as she approaches where The Judgement Day members all sit. She glances at them all, taking a moment to lick her lip. 

“Anyone wanna dance?” She leans over to ask, her breast slightly on display and the guys can’t help but take a look. 

Rhea sits back, taking in the slightly younger woman and how everything she wears hugs her body in the right way. Her eyes settle a moment on the black bralette she’s wearing and the way it doesn’t hide her hard nipples, even in the dark. Dominik focuses on her perfectly red lips and the way the lipstick hasn’t moved all night and the way he wants to smudge it. He shifts in his seat, trying to push the thought away before it manifests in a way he couldn’t hide it. Finn, on the other opposite side of Damian whose sitting in the middle, has his eyes on the length of her skirt and the way that he could drag her into the bathroom and fuck her over the sink without messing up her outfit. Then there was Damian, who is stuck on the thought that Maia wasn’t as innocent as she portrays on screen or backstage — he could see it in the way her eyes light up.

As the next song picks up, Damian stands, “I’ll take a dance with you.” He glances back at his stablemates, sending them a knowing nod. “She’ll be right back.”  

Their plan was in action, and little did they know, Maia was on a mission of her own tonight. 

Slow down. 

Maia clasps Damian’s hand as she leads him to the dance floor. A nice funky, R&B beat fills the tight space. With her back pressing onto him they move slowly and sensually. She is pleasantly surprised at the way Damian falls into step with her. The lyrics felt directed to them and she can’t help but turn to look at the older man. 

Baby, I’ve been fantasizing, just looking in your eye.

Their eyes lock on each other. Someone stumbles past and pushes them further together. Maia rest her hand on Damian’s hard chest, her motions still on the beat. Damian snakes his hand around her back, following. 

You know I’m looking for more, and you’re what I’ve been praying for.

Maia turns again, pressing her ass against Damian’s crotch, whining down, bending at the waist to slowly grind against him. His hands move towards her hips, dangerously close to her ass, and squeezing. 

I’m not one to play around like this, it’s so real, and I love how it feels, love it when we slowly sway.

She comes back up to rest against his chest, laying her head back to look up at him. They sway with the music, Damian's arms now around her stomach, staring back at her. 

I love the way we move, the way we move. 

Maia smiles to herself, feeling his light touch – Damian’s hands start at her shoulders, lightly tumbling down her exposed sides. His warm hand on her lower back makes her hum as she glances back at him. His head ducks down to press a warm kiss on her neck. She sets a hand against his thigh, wanting him to get closer to her. His scent was intoxicating and that’s all she wanted. 

We can have every night, yeah, we can have every day. Ooh, I want you too. I need you.

They stay like that for a while. Maia lets her eyes shut, letting the music take control. She doesn’t even realize the effect that she’s having on the Puerto Rican man behind her or his friends seated not too far away from them, completely checked in to what’s going on. 

And when the song transitions to another, Damian goes to move back, but she holds him in place, turning to look up at him. Nothing is said as he lets his hand slightly fall a little lower, resting on her ass. They don’t move, feeling everyone else around them. Her hand rests on his tattooed arm, slightly grazing her fingernails down making him unknowingly shudder. 

Dominik comes up from behind Damian, resting his hand on her hip. Her bright eyes met his with a smile. He pulls her into him and her thoughts shift. His hand lays flat on her stomach with her back to him, once again dancing. 

“You’re too sexy.” He mutters in her ear and she presses her thighs together in search of some relief from the pressure. “Don’t push it away.” Dominik kisses her neck. 

She throws her head back gently into his neck with her eyes closed. Dominik bites his lip, focused on that red lipstick again, desperately wanting to kiss and taste her. Maia puckers her lips, leaning up slowly as he leans down to meet her lips. The kiss is slow and deliberate. Dominik spins her around so they’re chest to chest, reconnecting their lips. She caresses his arm, lost in a trance for a while. 

“Come home with us.” Dominic breathlessly whispers in her ear, letting his hand travel down to the hem of her short skirt. 

Maia turned slowly taking him in, “And what will I win if I do.” Her lips moved perfectly and that’s all Dominik could focus on. “Lost for words?” She teases. 

“We’ll make it worth your time, mami, I promise.” 

He glances back, locking eyes with who could only be described as The Demon. Finn takes his time coming to meet the pair. Dominik gives his place. Maia’s eyes are low in the smoky room and it could drive the Irishmen crazy — and when she licks her lip, he has no choice but to give in to his desires, knowing that he couldn’t wait any longer. 

“C’mere.” His voice was thick with lust. 

Finn leads Maia past the bar, towards a bathroom, pushing the door open with his back. His friends shared a look, knowing things were going perfectly. The bathroom, matching the atmosphere of the club, was dim. He locks the door behind him and stalks towards her, where she leans against the sink, one heel slowly kicked up. Maia smirks when he finally stands in front of her. The music still pulsates through the room and her eyes dips from his to the front of his pants, pleasantly surprised to see how rock solid he was. 

It all felt like slow motion — Finn grabbed her by the hips, spinning her around to face the mirror. They stare at each other through it and Maia can’t help but press her ass against him, moving slowly, teasingly. 

“C’mon, don’t try to be a gentleman, take what you’ve come to get.” Her voice was laced with sex. She slowly hikes up her skirt, arching her back as she leans over — nothing hiding her pussy from his vision. 

At the sight, Finn groans, unzipping his pants. Maia’s breath gets stuck in her throat, feeling the tip of his dick pressing against her entrance. Her lips find themselves between her teeth again, feeling Finn pushes into her slowly. Her mouth hangs open slightly, a moan escaping. When he’s flesh against her, Finn moves his hand to sit around her stomach, pulling her up against his chest and thrusting deep. 

“Fuck.” The profanity leaves her mouth. 

As the music picks up, so does Finn’s movement. It’s not soft and she loved every second of it, he pounds into her as if he knew that’s exactly what she liked. And Maia feels like she’s on cloud fucking nine. The moans never stop from her and Finn can’t control himself at the faces she makes. He hits her g-spot, over and over, pushing deeper into her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck..” Maia is breathless, holding onto Finn’s arm, squeezing tightly.

He didn't let up and Maia was in absolute bliss. Finn’s hand moves from her stomach, down to her clit, rubbing along to his pace, making Maia reach her peak quicker. A single tear falls from her eyes and Finn kisses it, feeling her cling around him. 

A moan falls from his lips, “Go on, baby, come for me.” He bites her lips softly as she completely falls apart against him, feeling the orgasm shake her to the core. “Good girl.” He grunts, and his pace becomes sloppy. 

Maia has to muster all the power in her body to pull him out of her, crouching down in her heels to take him in her mouth. She strokes his dick, letting the tip hit the back of her throat until Finn’s eyes squeeze shut, coming down her throat. His groans are like music to her ears and when she swallows, she looks up at him through her eyelashes, plastering an innocent look on her face. 

She stands up, pulling her skirt down. Maia presses a kiss on his neck, smiling at the light red stain that she leaves. Her finger lightly traces it. 

“Wanna take me home?” Her manicured finger rests on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.” She winks, stepping out of the bathroom, and leaving him to get situated.

After more dancing, Maia stepped out of the club in desperate need of fresh air. She leans against the windows of the building, staring out at the parking lot. Even after her bathroom quickie earlier, she wasn’t satisfied and the cold air hitting her skin only heightened that need. As if on cue, Dominik pushed the door open, his eyes immediately landing on hers. 

“What you doin’ out here, mama?” Dominik comes up to her, pulling her towards him.

“Just gettin’ some air, what’s up with you, Dom?” Maia hooks her finger around one of his belt loops. “Come to keep me company?” 

They shared a quick look that solidified the fact that they weren’t outside for air. 

The car is parked in the back corner of the parking lot. Maia rested her back on the cool leather, humming as Dominik peppered kisses on her warm skin. She smells like a mixture of vanilla and cinnamon. He lays his hand gently on her thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. They maintain eye contact as his finger finds her heat, slowly running a finger through her slick folds. Maia bites her bottom lip with an exhale, resting her head back. 

“So fucking pretty.” He murmurs, sliding a finger into her wet cunt. Maia’s mouth slightly falls open, arching her back looking for more. “Mm, so wet.” 

“Fuck me, please,” She whined.

Dominik chuckled, drinking her in as he unbuckled his belt. Maia had her skirt bunched up around her stomach and her top down slightly to expose her hard nipples. Maia sits up slowly as he pulls his dick out of his pants, stroking a couple of times, his eyes on her. 

“Come ride me, baby.” 

Maia peels off the leather, straddling over him, pressing a kiss onto his lips as he pushes into her. Dominik squeezes one of her breasts, flicking his tongue over her nipple. The sound of their slapping skin is the only sound in the car. 

“fuck,” Maia moans, resting her forehead against his. “oh yeah, just like that.” She holds his face in her palms, printing her red lipstick all over his mouth.

Their pace quickens and their moans start to mix together. The windows start to fog as Maia throws her head back, holding onto Dominik’s shoulder trying to chase the high. His hands connect with her ass several times, the slaps ringing out in the car. Maia groans, 

“You look so fuckin’ good, baby,” Dominik murmurs in her ear. “Come here.”

The new position had Dominik hovering over her with Maia’s legs basically touching the roof of the car. A yelp escaped from her mouth when he slid back in her, making her eyes roll to the back of her head. The pleasure rushed over her again. Her breath caught in her throat, pressing her hand against his chest. 

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Maia moaned, filled with lust. “Holy shit.” she gasped feeling the butterflies in her stomach. 

Dominik’s moans and grunts filled her ears as he drilled into her at a relentless pace. Maia could barely open her eyes to see the fogged-up windows or his sweaty chest, all she could see was stars and her release on the brink. She was so close. 

“Go ‘head, Maia.” Dominik’s voice lulled her on. “Cum for me.” 

And with that, Maia feels all her walls tighten. She lets out a ragged breath as he fucks her through her climax and proceeds to chase his. Maia locked eyes with him while licking her still-red lips. That tears Dominik apart as he pulls out, cumming over her stomach with a grunt. 

Maia smiles drunkenly, closing her eyes for a moment in bliss. 

— 

 The air in the car was thick. The anticipation of what was coming was enough to power the city. Damian sits behind the steering wheel, Finn in the passenger seat with Maia in the backseat between Dominik and Rhea. Her eyes slowly look up to the rearview mirror, catching Damian's gaze as she licks her lip. His hands tighten around the steering wheel, impatiently. 

—

The house is impressive, but Maia’s thoughts were on everything but that. She holds a new cocktail in a square glass in her hands. She stares out at a pool in the backyard, nearly done with her drink when someone comes up behind her. The lights in the room are low, and music from the club is playing. The person behind her moves her hair, resting a kiss on her neck. She slowly closes her eyes, leaning back against them. 

“I never got that dance.” Rhea’s Australian accent fills her ears. 

Maia turns, setting her glass down. “I can give you a dance.” She murmurs, looking around the room to see them alone. “Or something better.” 

Rhea leans down, taking Maia’s lip into hers, kissing her roughly, trying to memorize her sweet taste. She leans down, hooking her arms under Maia’s ass and wrapping her legs around her waist. The kiss is breathless and they both refuse to be the first to pull away. 

“I have plans for you, baby.” Rhea bites Maia’s bottom lip. “But you have to wait.” She presses her lips to Maia’s one more time before setting her down. 

Dominik appears beside Rhea, taking the chance to capture Maia’s lips in a deep kiss, smacking her ass. She rests her hand around the back of his neck, letting her nails graze over the soft skin then moves them down to the hem of his shirt, wanting to feel his warm skin. Dominik, not breaking the kiss, moves them back to the center of the room. Another body presses up behind her, peppering kisses on her neck. 

“Let’s take you upstairs.” Finn says, lightly nibbling her ear. 

Finn leads them up the stairs, with Dominik closely behind Maia. She holds onto his hand, keeping them both steady as they enter the dimly lit room. Maia takes a moment to scan the room — it’s huge, and her eyes land on two armchairs near the window where Rhea and Damian were sitting, having stopped their conversation at the sight of her. 

Maia walks around to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the pair. She grabs the straps of her top, sliding them down her shoulder slowly, giving them all a view of her breast. She bites her lip, resting on the palm of her hands when Rhea gets up, stalking her like prey. 

“Touch me, gorgeous.” Maia groans softly. 

The Australian woman caresses Maia’s thighs, deeply gazing into the eyes of the woman under her, then gets on her knees to come face to face with her dripping wet cunt. Rhea places a soft kiss on her inner thigh, so close to Maia’s heat causing her to softly fall back against the mattress. Finn and Dominik watched for a moment but received a look from Damian and took their leave.  When Rhea’s tongue met Maia’s clit, a deep sigh left her lip, slowly arching her back. She can’t help but tangle her fingers in Rhea’s hair. 

“So good.” She moans, her breath hitching in her throat. 

Rhea rests her arm over Maia’s lower stomach, keeping her in place as she devours her as if it were her last supper. Her tongue swirls over Maia’s bundle of nerve, her tongue laying flat, sucking roughly on her clit. Maia couldn’t help but grip the sheets, trying to keep her body flat on the bed, but her body had a mind of its own. The euphoric feeling washed over her, leaving her breathless. Her breathing was labored and her hands searched for something, anything. The release was so close that she couldn’t help but shut her eyes as it washed over her with so much force. 

“Good girl,” Rhea purrs, licking her lip as Maia tries to find her breath. 

Her fingers dug into Maia’s hips to keep her still as she ate her like a starved woman’s first meal in years. Maia tried to push her legs together but was unsuccessful as Rhea dipped a tongue into her, disarming her immediately. She grinded down into Rhea’s face, moaning loudly. Maia glanced to the side to see Damian watching them intently and that only turned her own even more as she threw her head back. 

As Maia tiptoed the edge, the rougher Rhea got until she couldn’t take it any longer. For what felt like the hundredth time tonight, she came so hard until all she saw was blackness. Her breath was ragged as Rhea kissed up her body until her lips were on Maia’s in the softest kiss ever. All Maia could do was murmur a word, but she wasn’t even sure of what she said. 

It took a while for her to come to, but when she did, Maia realized that it was just her and Damian in the room. He stood from his chair and came to the front of the bed as Maia got up onto her knees. She watched him carefully as she fixed her clothes. Maia licked her lips as he crouched down to her eye level. 

“Is the nice girl back?” he teased with a smirk. 

Maia shrugged her shoulder, “who says that wasn’t the nice girl?” she whispered, looking at him from underneath her eyelashes. “I been watching you priest, you can’t fool me.” 

Damian chuckled, “and what do you mean by that, Maia?” 

“I want you and you want me all to yourself, am I right?” Maia questioned, moving closer to him. “Because I see how you look at me, I see how you all look at me, but you in particular…” 

Maia gave a dramatic sigh, “I can feel your eyes on my body, so I walk slower. Baby, I always know when you’re around, just tell me I’m wrong.” 

The room felt 1000 degrees hotter as they stared at each other. Damian took in the way Maia rubbed his arm then laid back onto her elbows on the bed, watching him with an innocent smile as if she didn’t just turn him on. 

“I want you, Maia.”

:) thank you for reading. let me know if I should do a pt. 2, but I fear I write too much damian x

[itstheghostofmypast]

Screw You!

Soulmate/Corporate AU Choi San x (F)Reader

Summary: Never had she met someone who would say their boss was a good boss, but if you ask her, the corporate warlord she slaved away for was the worst. A true hypocrite, with a pretty face, nice smile, and a rotten,ugly heart- an overtime loving prick. One she was stuck with on HER day, happy birthday to her.

Genre: Fluff

Rating: SFW

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.6k

Est.Read Time: 13 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: Yes, I did write myself a birthday fic- I am not delusional. Also, I had been keeping @justsomekpopstuff 's request literally for this day!

Soulmates, the concept of love, the proof of your "other half" sounds like a load of fun until you realise there's an expiry date on that fun little deal. The beauty of this ideal world was that each soul is blessed with an ink, an ink that morphs into a phrase or a sentence, one that is uttered by their other half at one point of their lonely lives.

In this fundamentally twisted world, she was one of the few who had been blessed with one of the most horrendous soulmate one liners, "Being on time means, no overtime." One she'd gladly cover up with a long sleeved shirt, a cardigan, coat or whatever she could find- yes, she had once thought of getting a tattoo over it, but apparently that was illegal? Like, okay?

As a child, she'd stare at her forearm before glancing at her parents' palms. Both had a single word on their palms, their names. Her bestfriend had a cute phrase on her wrist, one that had her taste the bitter sweet awe at the back of tongue when she saw the boy mumble that question to her platonic soulmate, "Be my starlight?" It was sweet, adorable, swoonworthy even, but like any normal teenagers, her hormones told her a different story, "You're dying single."

As the years passed by she still clung onto some form of hope, wishing that whoever this was, was some good-looking corporate hunk and NOT SOME OLD MAN- mind you, this thought had only occurred to her when her sister had stumbled across her soulmate by accident at a cafe. The young but clumsy barista had almost dropped her coffee on her. Instead, he placed his hand in the way, smiling through the pain as he hissed, "Ain't hotter than you." Granted, Mingi was a weird dude, but he was the one her sister was destined with and as much as she admired the two pair in their late teens, the girl who had hit 21 had an epiphany, "Fate hates me."

Life went on, though. People around her were slowly reuniting with their other halves, but her- screw Plato's theory of other halves. He didn't know anything. Soon enough, she found herself coming home to an empty apartment, waking up in a cold bed, staring up at the dull ceiling, letting the silence hug her with its melancholic tune. There was not much she could do anyway, everyone would remind her not to lose hope, the ugly, rude, black ink in cursive was a sign of assurity that there was someone out there for her. Yeah, an old balding, stubby man, probably with a beer belly and all that crap- yes, this could be a horrid over exaggeration. Looks didn't matter. Personality did. That was true, but then, even if he was a sweet person, why would her other half say something so pointless? Something so blunt and rude?

Yes, that was the paradoxical dilemma that had her up on alternate nights. What if he is a good-looking hunk, but is a total prick! There was no winning in this situation. To top it all off, she had managed to somehow land herself a small little place on the corporate world- now proudly titled as a team leader, she could gladly say that this world was nothing more than a dog eat dog world and she was the bone fate had been chewing on for almost 26 years.

And when our poor, little, angel-hearted, extremely polite and definitely not bitterly sarcastic protagonist was not wailing about the ink on her forearm, she was daydreaming about choking the man on the 28th floor. The bastard who had been the bane of her existence, joining on the same day together but, oh, since he was oh so great at licking them boots, he'd managed to score a bit higher than her. Misogyny at its finest. Who cared if he wasn't even aiming for the same goal as her? Who cares if he was part of the finance team!? Sure it wasn't his fault the advertising head wasn't a fan of her, delaying her promotion till the old prick had finally retired- still, her current higher up, should have at least suffered the same way! To some extent.

"Some people are just lucky." She grimaced at the way her annoyingly sweet best friend had uttered during one of their afternoon coffees, placing a hand on hers, "And, if we remember correctly, you're the competitive one. I told you not to turn it into a competition." Yes, she did handle that situation maturely, chugging down her coffee, grumbling about how break was almost over, leaving the cafe with a, "I'll tell Seonghwa you've been eying up Choi Stupid from work."

Choi Stupid. Technically, that wasn't his name, but let's call him that. Initially, she had thought he was kinda nice, cute too, but then he was just too nice? How do you get everyone to like you? Can you actually be this nice? No, she was sure he was a snarky, mean bastard deep down- yes, he did manage to get the intern manager to like him as well, yes that man would praise Choi Stupid even if he was in the wrong, even if she did better than Choi Stupid, he was somehow appreciated that day too. Eventually she had just began to ignore him, only give him one word responses, but one thing was for sure, Choi Stupid was as competitive as her, but unlike her, luck had been on his side since the start, which is why his boss was a nice lady, while her's was Satan's retired manwhore- for sure.

And as fate would have it, with the annual dinner approaching, the teams and departments were working insynch, collaborating, especially the marketing and the finance department and although she loved such creative opportunities there was one problem- Choi Stupid by default was her boss during this project. And he had made sure to make her already miserable life ten times worse.

Never had she met someone who would say their boss was a good boss, but if you ask her, the corporate warlord she slaved away for was the worst. A true hypocrite, with a pretty face, nice smile, and a rotten,ugly heart- an overtime loving prick. One she was stuck with on HER day, happy birthday to her.

It all started when she had woken up to the doorbell ringing in the middle of the night, opening the door to her family and friends who had come to give her a surprise birthday party- hey, not her fault her birthday landed on a 'working Saturday'. So yes, like any unlucky, lonely, sad 26 year old she had celebrated her special day till around 3 A.M. before knocking out cold and waking up late for work- the best way to celebrate the new year.

With a sigh she leaned back against the chair, unsure if the creaking was coming from it or her poor back, before glancing at the wall clock, leave it to Choi Stupid to have her finishing up everyone else's tasks- technically the reports were her domain, she was team leader after all, but still, she has been here since morning, she had missed her lunch with her family and her usual afternoon coffee with her friends- what a way to enjoy the day.

There was no one else on the floor but her, a part of her wanted to abandon the work and just leave, but the more responsible portion of her soul was already busy beating her up for slacking off like this. Yawning in defeat, she hunched over the desk, glaring at the screen of her desktop, audibly sighing when the familiar clicking of shoes approached her, ignoring the way they progressively got closer.

She actually forgot about him for a moment, busy reading a report, thinking of what to add when she felt him hovering next to her, "It's bad enough you have me working on my birthday, I don't need you to baby me."

With a heavy sigh, he controlled the urge to roll his eyes, placing the coffee cup on her desk in a civil manner. What was she five? Complaining about her birthday like that, it's not his fault she was late. In fact, he had to stay overtime as well, because of her! Her presence was irritating enough, but the constant pestering of his friends about his lack of significant other had him huffing all day, especially when the boss-man asked him today, "Sannie boy, you better look for her quick, you seem to be sulking these days." He only gave the bastard a tight-lipped smile, easy to say for a man who apparently found his other half at the age of ten - oh how San would give anything remotely like that. Imagine knowing your other half for so long, hell, the only people he'd known for a while her of course, his family and friends....and....her.

"What you staring at, Choi? This part of your overtime punishment?" She snapped him back to reality, snatching the cup off the desk in a graceless manner. He didn't deserve a thank you.

He could only scoff at her reaction, pushing up his glasses before shaking his head, she was hopeless, whoever gets stuck with her probably would be sent directly to heaven- considering his punishment would be to spend the rest of his life with this creature. Giving her one more glare, he mumbled, walking away, "Being on time means no overtime."

Her body jerked at the sudden realisation, twitching as her head whipped in his direction, staring at that disgusting-or not- broad back, her lips moving quicker than her brain to process, her automatic defense system kicking in before she could stop herself, instantly having him freeze in his tracks as her voice echoed, "Oh, SCREW YOU!"

An audible gasped caught his burning ears, though he stood there in place, ever so slowly the pieces coming together, forming a picture that had him laughing at the irony.

Her hand slapped against her mouth, eyes widening when she saw him turn around and glare at her, slowly walking towards her, staring her down hard. Clearing her throat, she tried to mumble an apology- wonderful girl, make sure he hates you the moment you meet him, HELL HOW WAS SHE SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT WAS HIM THIS ENTIRE TIME!?

"S-San I-"

Her words caught up in her throat when she realised what he was doing. Approaching her with careful steps he tugged on his tie in an aggressive manner, ignoring her when she tried to speak as he trapped her between the desk and his body, popping open the first two buttons of his crisp white dressshirt with one hand, his other hand gripping her shoulder, rolling his eyes when he noticed her close hers in fear, hande covering her face.

"THIS IS HARRASSMENT-"

"Read." His calm voice cut her off, gently giving her shoulder a squeeze, signalling her to do as told.

She peeked through her fingers, scanning the exposed neck line, about to scream, or possibly kick him down south. That is when her eyes caught trace of a cursive right above his collar bone.

"What...the...hell. " With a faint whisper she lowered her hands, not noticing how he was now looking at her with a certain softness, not noticing how his hands were on her waist, too busy to notice how his face was flushed, his ears burning a bright pink when she traced the phrase on his skin with the tip of her fingers, mumbling, "Oh, screw you..."

"I can't believe it, all this time, it was you." He mumbled, letting her have her moment, but not stopping with his, staring at her with a new kind of tenderness, "I spent my entire life thinking this meant my other half would reject me...I was made fun of till this day....I just...If I had known-"

"I thought I'd be married to an old, bald suited man."

His eyes flickered from her lips to her eyes, "What...do you mean..."

"This, you fool, who says this to someone you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with?" She snorted, unbuttoning her cuff and rolling up her sleeve to show the statement on her forearm, letting him gently grip her wrist, bringing her closer so he could read, "I...yeah I see what you mean-Wow, we just had really weird things to say, huh?" He smiled, looking up at her, and for some ungodly reason, those dimpled and stupid glasses suddenly made her heart beat a little too fast for her liking.

"Speak for yourself. What I said was cool as hell." She mumbled, trying to distract herself, trying not to jump into his arms and break down, to think they met three years ago, and never knew any of this.

His brows raised at her statement, almost about to say something before choosing to lean closer to her, smirking at the way her eyes widened like a dear caught in headlights. Her hands gripped the lapels of his coat, eyes closing when he was a breath away - until she heard a soft click and his warmth disappeared.

"Oh, look, I guess you don't need to work overtime anymore." He chuckled, eying how she stood there dumbfounded, staring at the desktop he had turned off, while he placed her things in her bag for her before slinging the laptop bag over his shoulder, "I'd take your purse too...but...the red doesn't go well with my outfit."

A loud cackle resonated across the empty floor, causing Choi Stupid to smile like a mad man at the woman who was running towards the elevator with him hot on her heels behind her.

The doors closed with a ding as he glanced at her, blushing at how she was shamelessly staring back at him, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall of the elevator with a smirk.

"What?" He asked, tilting his head, knowing he wasn't gonna like whatever was coming next.

"Lady luck ain't on your side no more, buddy."

"Why'd you say that??" He asked, raising a brow, somewhat amused at this sudden boost of energy she was now blessed with.

"Gotta spend the rest of my your pathetic life with me."

"Actually, I think I'm pretty lucky. Not only do I get to do that, I still have an hour or so before your day ends...so technically, I think you're finally getting a bit lucky there...having your other half save you and take you out on a nice relaxing dinner for your birthday."

The doors opened as he walked out, chuckling at her gasp, amusing how quick she was even in those heels.

"Save me!? From who!?"

Opening the car door for her, he gestured for her to sit and smiled while closing it, "From Choi Stupid." Laughing at the muffled whining that he could hear while he walked over to his side of the door. Truly lady luck had never left his side, because from the day he had seen her, he had wished she was the one, even when she was being her gremlin self- a part of him wished it was him.

By the time the two had gotten to the road a comfortable silence had settled between them, and a small smile had graced his lips, especially when he had felt her lace their fingers together, giving his hand a light squeeze.

She glanced at their hands, sighing in relief, grateful and somewhat pleasantly surprised, feeling a bit too giddy when he raised her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand, before casually beginning to drive again.

What a birthday surprise indeed.

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a @ateezswonderland

[iridecsense]

his brother’s keeper - m. 

 ⤷ summary: after yet again pining for his brother’s girl, newt finds himself stuck between his brother and the woman he is in love with...quite literally.

𓇬 word count: 8.0k 𓇬 pairing: theseus scamander | fem!reader | newt scamander 𓇬 genre: smut, porn with a little plot  𓇬 rating: 18+ 𓇬 warnings: profanity, depictions of spiked drinks 𓇬 kinks: voyeur, cuckholding, breeding, creampie, menage et toi, oral (fem recieving), anal mdom/femsub/msub 𓇬 author’s note: Something you can think of as a sequel to rumors, or a stand alone one shot. I will definitely not see the pearly gates after this, I am so sorry in advance! I may be a bit rusty so please be gentle and accept this late Christmas gift as a New Years surprise. Expect more from me soon. ;)

     It was usually in conditions like these, when the streets of London were slick with cool wet, and the biting cold spread mist from hot mouths filled the air, that made a time meant for cheer and love, one of desolate solitude for those less fortunate. Whatever the circumstances may be, it is in these times Newt Scamander often found himself alone. Though, if you were to ask him yourself he would deny the accusation and snarkily ask if one could ever be truly alone when surrounded by magnificent creatures. Despite the best efforts of his brother, who cared for him most earnestly, Newt hadn’t spent the holidays with him in years. 

      He had his reasons to be sure. Back when Theseus was engaged with his childhood friend Leta, there was no doubt an awkwardness. The younger Scamander brother was in love with the Lestrange girl. To see his brother have what he had longed for since he first met her put a strain on his heart. Newt was not bold in any sense of the word. Being forward with a woman never came easy to him. When he’d lost the chance to win Leta’s heart he swore that when he found himself enamored by another woman he would make it clear to her his affections.     In came Tina Goldstein, an American auror who he found himself entangled with on a trip overseas. He felt something for her—a kind of attraction that was different from the one he felt for Leta, but an attraction nonetheless. Tina was tall and beautiful and treated him with more respect than anyone ever had. But even that effort fell short. Tina had become more dedicated to her work and her sister. There was no room for him in her life at the moment. The two drifted apart succeeding the events of Grindelwald's rally in Paris. He returned to London, and she to her own affairs.     That had been nearly three years ago. Newt did well on his own, he felt. His creatures keep him busy enough. Getting through the day was easy. The nights were the hardest. At night there wasn't anything busying his mind from thinking of you.     Newt started to believe he was cursed to always fall in love with women he couldn't have. Whoever it was must have been especially cruel to make him fall for his brother’s girlfriends. That could be the only explanation. Otherwise,  he was just a sick, perverted man who desperately needed therapy. Little did he know two things can be true.    It wasn’t as though it were intentional. When it came to Leta, he had loved her first. Theseus just happened to get her. You, however, was something he did not expect. He was acquainted with you, only knowing and conversing with you when Leta was involved, considering you were her friend. It wasn't until she died that he got to know you better. During that time, Newt stayed with his brother and swore to stay by his side and help him and the ministry in capturing Grindelwald. Theseus grieved, and Newt was there to care for him, and so were you.     You would come by with food and insist on helping clean the apartment. The gesture was kind, especially when you were going through your own grief. Newt wondered if you used your kindness and instinct to help others as a way to distract yourself from the pain you truly felt. He was able to prove his theory right after many nights alone, drinking gin and fire whiskey, when he got to know you more intimately.     Theseus never knew, but in those first few months he spent grieving, Newt had grown rather fond of you. You were funny, kind, a great cook, and you listened to him, something no one else really did. The day he discovered your relationship with his brother he was disappointed, to say the least. Once again, Theseus had managed to take someone else he cared about. Newt often wondered how different things would have been if he had kissed you that night as you so desperately wanted him to. The same night when you had drank one too many gin and tonics and found the Scamander family album hidden in Theseus’s bookshelf. That night you somehow wound up on top of his lap, flipping through embarrassing baby pictures and evidence of his pubescent awkwardness. You were too drunk to notice how tense he was underneath you, or how with every shift of movement, or every laugh you chuckled, your ass pressed against his crotch.     When you came across a picture of Newt his mother had taken of him on the first day working at the Ministry when he was sixteen, you gushed over how ‘adorable’ he looked. Newt blushed. Then you said something he didn't expect.     “I see what Leta meant. You were always cute.”     Newt didn't know what to say. You positioned your head on his shoulder to look up at him. Newt was never good at eye contact, but he found it hard to tear his eyes away from yours.     “You have pretty eyes,” you slurred suddenly with a smile stretched across your lips. He could smell the alcohol on your breath your faces were so close.     “So do you,” he said, surprising himself with his own brazenness. It was true. You had two pretty (e/c) eyes like none he’d ever seen, even when they fluttered and stared blankly up at him in an intoxicated daze. But it was only with the help of the three glasses of gin he had earlier that helped him say it aloud.     Your smile grew wider. Your hand went to cup his left cheek. “I never understood Leta,” you mumbled. “How could anyone look past you?”     He’d wanted it so bad. To feel your lips against his would be his greatest reward after all he’d been through, after all his shortcomings. If he were a lesser man he would have taken advantage of your drunkenness. But you could barely sit up on your own, and he couldn’t tell how long it would be before you lost consciousness and fell asleep on the couch as you had done several times before.     “Kiss me, Newt,” you asked. “Please.” It was the first sentence you hadn't slurred since the gin entered your bloodstream. In a moment of weakness, his hand caressed your cheek. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip and he heard your breath hitch in your throat.     You were so beautiful and there you were, begging him to kiss you. Begging for something more by the way you pressed your body into him and looked desperately at his lips through half-lidded eyes. And maybe if he had four gin and tonics instead of three he would have given you what you wanted. But he was more sober than you and he respected you far too much to take advantage of you in your current state. What he had to do afterward took all his restraint.     The next day you greeted him in the kitchen with the same kind smile you always gave him as you prepared breakfast. The matter was never brought up again and Newt assumed you simply didn't remember. He saw no point in bringing it up himself. Before he knew it, it was too late. Theseus had set his eyes on you and wasted no time claiming you as his. Newt could not touch you, no matter how badly he wanted to.     And so, once again, Newt found himself in love with his brother’s girl. Constantly keeping her on his mind, constantly yearning for her, but always stepping back. He was still close to you, which only made it harder.     For the past year, he’s kept the secret of that night. But that wouldn't stop him from thinking of it, and all that could have been, just as he was doing now, lying in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. If only he could have you with him now and feel your skin on his, taste the salt of your sweat, and feel the heat of your body. He could only imagine. But even in his imagination he was the happiest man on earth. Theseus must have felt like God.     Unbeknownst to him, he would get a taste of that feeling the very next day. In the morning when he woke up, he found an owl waiting for him with a letter. It was an invitation, from you no less, to join you and Theseus for a Christmas dinner later that evening. In truth, Newt had been so busy tending to his creatures the past week he had forgotten how close Christmas was approaching, let alone that it was Christmas Day.     The thought of spending an evening with you was enticing. It was Theseus’s presence that made him second guess. He loved his brother, that was no question. He probably loved his brother more than anyone else in the world, which is why he could sit silently as he continuously watched him have everything he ever wanted with no protest. That didn't mean it was easy. It was hard to see you with him, even harder than when he had to endure Leta with him. At least then he had Tina as a distraction. Now there was only you and he could see no one else better than you.     Had it been Theseus who sent the letter he wouldn't have agreed to stop by. He might not have even replied. But since it was you, and only because it was you, he sent an owl confirming his arrival.     On the other side of things, you were ecstatic. It had been some time since you'd seen Newt and you considered him one of your closest friends. You knew Theseus would love having his little brother visit for Christmas and felt it would be the perfect present for him.     You had told Newt to come a couple of hours earlier than when you would be expecting Theseus. When you opened the door you greeted him with a bright, toothy smile and open arms. Newt hugged you back awkwardly and stepped inside.     “Everything is cooking in the oven now,” you said. “I’m just finishing up the pie for dessert. Come, have a drink in the kitchen.”     Newt followed behind you. You looked adorable in the tacky red and green Christmas sweater you wore over your long white dress. You made him a drink and started on your creme pie.     “It’s so good to see you, Newt,” you told him. “I was afraid you couldn’t make it. I know how busy your creatures keep you.”     “It’s good to see you too,” he replied. “Bunty insisted she stay and help while I am away. She claimed she had no other plans.”     You pouted your lips. “That’s awful!” You said. “You should have told me! I would have gladly invited Bunty over if I knew. No one should be alone on Christmas.”     Newt smiled softly. There you go again, always thinking of others. As the two of you sat in the kitchen you caught each other up on your lives. Things were going great for you, Newt discovered. You had recently gotten a promotion and received a medal for your efforts spying abroad for your department and gathering intel on Grindelwald and his acolytes.    Newt told you about his own travels abroad, searching for and rescuing creatures whenever he could while doing his own work for Dumbledore to support the cause. He told you stories of the places he’d been and the creatures he’d seen, even promising to let you visit his home to see them for yourself. “They’d love you,” he said.     Before he knew it, the two of you were sharing a glass of wine on the couch while the food kept warm. Then you shared another, and another, and another while you both waited for Theseus to return.     “He works later these days,” you tell Newt. “There’ve been days where he doesn't come home at all. Just stays up there, drooling over papers in his office. I worry about him sometimes.”     “That’s my brother,” he says. “Always working harder than anyone else. Always having something to prove. In some ways I’m jealous.”     You chuckled. “Jealous? How so?”     “He’s always so,” Newt paused, searching his brain for the right word. “Dedicated. Determined. He sets his mind on something and won't stop until he does it. He’s always been like that.”     You turned to face him next to you on the couch, sitting on your legs and propping your elbow on the back of the couch to lean your head against your hand. You peer at him quizzically. “But you’re like that too.”     Newt scoffed. “No I’m not,” he chuckled as he took a sip of his wine.     “Yes, you are!” You insist. “You’re very determined and dedicated to your animals. You have done things many others are too afraid to do; all to protect the things you love. Even Theseus admits you are much better suited to be an auror than he is.”     Newt raised a curious brow, a coy smile on his face. “Really?”     You nod. “He’s very amazed by you—admires you, even. As do I. You’re very brave, Newt. No one is more determined or dedicated than you.”     “There is one person,” Newt muttered.      “Who?” You asked, genuinely curious about his answer, prepared to playfully berate him for his humbleness.     “Theseus.”     “Well, he doesn't seem to think so,” you say.     “But he is,” Newt quipped, whipping his head to look you in the eye. The energy in the room shifted, and though both your brains were fuzzy from wine, you could tell the moment had gone from playful to serious.     “He is,” he continued. “He wanted to become head boy and he did. He strived to be the best auror at the ministry and he is. He wanted Leta and he got her, and when he wanted you, he got you.”     You were silent as you listened, unsure of where exactly Newt was going with his ramblings.     “I could never do that,” he admitted. “If I could, you would be with me now, not him.”     Now it was the wine talking. You were surprised. Newt’s face was red, but at this point, it wasn't clear if it was because he was embarrassed, frustrated, or tipsy.     “What do you mean, Newt?” You asked, your voice soft and sweet. His expression softened, and he looked at you in such a way your heart fluttered in your chest.     “You are so beautiful,” he proclaimed, making your face burn hotter than it already was. “I should have told you that a long time ago. If I were as forthright as Theseus I would have told you I loved you the night we almost kissed a year ago on this couch.”     Newt chuckled at your stunned expression, unable to say a word. “You don’t remember, but you were beautiful then too. You sat right here in my lap and you held my face in your hand and begged me to kiss you. I would have if you weren’t intoxicated. I wanted to talk to you about it the next day but you had already forgotten—”     “I didn't forget,” you spoke finally. Now it was Newt’s turn to be surprised.     “What?”     You put your wine glass down on the coffee table and scooted closer to Newt on the couch. Your knees touched his thigh, but neither of you moved.     “I didn't forget,” you repeat, clearer this time. “We were drinking while Theseus was asleep in his room one night. I had found your family album and we looked at it together when I asked you to kiss me.”     Newt frowned. “If you remember then why didn't you say anything?”     “I was embarrassed,” you reveal. “When you didn't kiss me I thought that I made a fool of myself. That you rejected me. When you didn't say anything afterwards I figured that was it. That you just wanted to forget and stay as friends.”     Newt couldn't believe his ears. All this time you had remembered that night and thought he held no feelings for you. He was spiraling in his head, you could tell by the way he distantly stared into his glass of wine.     “Newt?” You called out to him, taking his glass and replacing it with your hand.     “This is what I mean,” he said finally. “I wasn't determined. If I were like Theseus I would have talked to you regardless of whether or not I thought you remembered. I would have told you how wonderful it felt holding you in my arms and how desperately I wanted to press my lips against yours and taste you on my tongue. I would have told you how much I love you.”     Your stomach turned excitedly at Newt’s words. You squeezed his hand tightly. “Newt...”     He stopped, realizing what he just said. “I...I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I don’t know why I’m saying these things.”     “That would be the veritaserum in the wine,” said a deep voice behind him.     Newt turned around and found his brother, Theseus, standing under the archway to the foyer.     “Theseus,” He stammered and quickly stood to his feet.     “No need to get up, brother,” he said calmly. “It wasn’t as if I didn’t know.”     On the couch, you held up the wine bottle and inspected it. “How did veritaserum get into the wine?”     “I drugged it,” Theseus said simply as he walked past Newt and took a seat across from the couch in an armchair.     “Why the hell would you do that?” You asked Theseus angrily.     “Because this morning you said Newt accepted your invitation to dinner. Because I knew the real reason why Newt hasn't visited me in months is that he feels guilty for loving you knowing you’re with me,” he explained. “And I didn't want to have a Christmas dinner with a brother who resents me and sulks across the table pining for you. So, I put veritaserum in the wine I knew you wanted to drink tonight and left the two of you alone, hoping my baby brother would finally confess his feelings. And he did! Now we all know.”     You shot up from your seat and glared at Theseus. “This is cruel Theseus. You had no right!”     “I will admit it was slightly unethical, but I don’t see the harm in it. Aren’t you glad that Newt confessed his feelings?”     “Yes,” you answered instantly, though, of course, not of your own free will.     Theseus then turned to Newt. “And don't you feel better having finally told her?”     “Yes,” Newt admitted.    Theseus smiled. “Good! Now everything’s better.”     “You aren't upset?” Asked Newt.     Theseus looked at him as though he were confused. “Why would I be upset?”     “You’re not upset that I’m in love with your girlfriend?”     Theseus pursed his lips in thought before shifting his eyes to the half-empty bottle of wine. Standing to his feet, he walked towards the coffee table and grabbed the bottle by the neck. He took a swing of the truth-spiked wine and put it back down.     “Why don’t you ask me again.” He said.     “You’re not upset that I love y/n?” Newt once again asked.     Theseus smiled almost tenderly at his brother. “No.”     The older brother walked back to his chair and sat down, leaving you and Newt stupefied. “I do, however, wonder how you feel, darling.” He said, now turning his attention to you.     You furrowed your brows. “Me?”     “Do you love Newt back?” Asked Theseus.     Newt’s eyes fell on you. Your mouth opened and took a breath in preparation of your answer, but it closed as soon as it happened. Your glare on Theseus sharpened.     “What are you playing at, Theseus?”     “Don’t try fighting it,” he said. “You won't be able to lie so just answer. Do you love him?”     Your eyes flickered over and connected with Newt’s, who was looking at you expectingly. Your eyes softened and the tenseness in your shoulders fell away.     “Yes,” you whispered.     Newt couldn't believe his ears. Everything happening at this moment felt surreal. Just a few minutes ago he thought he had embarrassed himself once again, having confessed his feelings to his brother’s girlfriend right in front of him. He was prepared to be punched and thrown out and for his brother to hate him for the rest of his life. But instead of being angry, Theseus was encouraging him. He encouraged you and finally, he got to hear you say words he’d only dreamt of you saying. You loved him. Oddly enough, despite how it came about, Newt couldn't be happier.     “Kiss her.”     Newt was pulled from his thoughts and his shared gaze with you. You both turned and looked at Theseus who sat cooly in the armchair.     “Didn’t you hear what she said?” He asked. “She loves you! Stop standing there like an idiot and kiss her!”     “Theseus—” you began to speak, but Theseus stopped you.     “It’s okay, love,” he assured you with his gentlest voice. “Let him kiss you.”     The energy in the room for the second time that night, all because of Theseus, who ironically was the calmest person in the room. But there was something about the aura permeating from him that domineered over everyone else. His gaze burned into them as he stared, waiting for Newt to do as he commanded.     Every part of him wanted to turn around and walk out the front door and never speak of this again. He would go home and lay in his bed and do his best to fall asleep and forget everything that happened here tonight. Every part except the one that wanted to turn to his side, take you in his arms, and kiss you the way he should have that night. It was that part of him that won over all his better judgments.    In an instant, Newt’s lips were on yours. He held your face in his hands and pressed his body flat against yours. You were taken aback. You’d even yelped when his lips first touched yours. It was a while before your body finally relaxed and you closed your eyes, leaning into the kiss. Your lips began to move with his and he felt your hands lightly grip the sides of his waist, still unsure.     Theseus leaned back in his chair and said nothing as he watched. Newt’s tongue darted from between his lips and licked a stripe over your own. Your mouth opened for him willingly and he wasted no time exploring your mouth. He moaned at the taste of you. The feeling of your tongue swirling around his made his cock twitch in his pants. You could feel it against your thigh and your breath hitched in your throat.     “Don’t stop,” ordered Theseus with his hand over his pants, palming at the growing hardness straining against the fabric.    Newt kept his mouth on yours, only moving his grip around your face down to your hips. Your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt and you pressed your body into him, yearning to be closer. Newt stumbled back until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he broke away from the kiss to sit down. He spread his legs outwards and pulled you down onto his lap. You straddled his waist and his hips bucked upwards, longing to connect. A soft moan fell from your lips and he swore hadn't heard a more beautiful sound. Soon lips were back on yours.     “Tell her how pretty she is, Newt,” Theseus instructed.     Newt pulled from your feverish kiss and pushed your hair from around your face. “You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he said. You looked down at him through half-lidded eyes dilated with lust. Your lips twitched into a smile as you began salaciously grinding your hips against him, feeling the bulge of his dick against your slick heat. Newt hissed and watched you from below, moving his hips along with you, admiring your form hovering above him as you pulled your sweater over your head and threw it on the floor.     “Show him just how beautiful you are, sweetheart,” Theseus commanded. His voice was low and husky. He watched the two of you closely, palming his own arousal.     It was of no concern to the two of you, however. Newt was so encompassed by you he could barely pay any mind to his brother watching across the room. Of course, there were thoughts screaming in the back of his head telling him how fucked this whole situation was, but they were nothing more than muted whispers compared to you rubbing against his cock.     Just as Theseus commanded you showed Newt how beautiful you were when you took a hand and pulled down one of the straps to your white dress and freed your arm, repeating the same to the other. Taking his hands from your waist you brought them to your chest and helped him pull your dress down around your waist, revealing your breasts.     You felt Newt’s cock jump at the sight of you. He could only stare slack-jawed as you placed his hands over your beasts and guided him in pressing them against each other in a continuous circular motion while you rubbed your clothed clit against him. Your soft pants filled his ears as his low grunts filled yours.     “Newt...” His name fell breathlessly from your lips.     He had pumped his cock to the thought of you moaning his name many times before, but it barely held a candle to what it felt like to hear the real thing. Your name fell from his lips just as easily and he once again captured your lips in a heated kiss while he massaged your breasts.     Across the room, Theseus had his hand wrapped around his cock, slowly sliding it up and down as he watched his girlfriend shamelessly hump his little brother. You were the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. The way your hips moved against Newt could rival even the best of strippers. Your pretty moans filled his ears and he couldn’t help but reminisce about the many times he'd made those same sounds come out of you. To hear it in person is a gift. To feel your lips was a blessing. To feel your tight cunt wrapped around his cock was the best thing a man could ever feel. There is no greater present than fucking you, and Newt didn’t even realize that Theseus had just given his brother the best Christmas gift a man could ask for.     “Tell her what you’re thinking, Newt,” Theseus breathed.     Newt licked his lips. He did his best to gather his thoughts which were wall focused on you.     “Go on,” you said through shaky breaths. “Tell me.”     Newt moaned and pressed a trail of kisses on your bare shoulder and neck. “I’m thinking about how amazing you are,” he grunted out. “I’m thinking about how long I’ve wanted you and how good it feels to finally have you.”      You loved hearing Newt praise you. You loved the feeling of his hands and lips on your hot skin.  “Keep going,” you urged, moving your hands up his chest to unbutton his shirt.     “I think you’re perfect. I think that Theseus doesn't realize how lucky he is to have you,” he said boldly, piquing both your and Theseus’s interest. “You should have been mine. I would take good care of you—f-fuck!”     You had reached the top of his pants and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling out his hardened length. He wasn’t bigger than Theseus, but he certainly was thicker. Your hand slid up and down his shaft, only stopping to collect the precum leaking from his tip on your finger to put them in your mouth. He watched in awe as you licked and sucked your fingers clean.     “God, I want you,” he growled in your ear as your hand reached for his cock. “I want to be inside you. I want to feel you,” he said through labored breaths.     “Give him what he wants, love” Theseus spoke up. “Let him feel you.”      You sat up on your knees and hovered over his hips. Pulling your panties to the side with one hand you used the other to guide Newt’s member to your center. Both your breaths caught in your throats when he entered, stretching you open with his thick cock. Feeling you around him was unlike anything he could ever dream or hope. You were slick with arousal and he easily slid in and out of you, filling you up in all the right places. Your moans filled the room as Newt sucked on the supple skin of your neck. His hands and fingernails dug into your soft skin as he held you close and it felt as though the two of you were the only ones in the room.     Newt’s name sweetly slipped past your lips. Yours flittered through the air from his own. His hips rolled into yours with a precision you had no idea he was capable of. If he’d allowed it, the two of you would have lost yourselves in each other, forgetting the third presence in the room. But that wasn't going to happen.     Standing from his seat, Theses moved towards the couple and took a seat next to them on the couch, his hand still wrapped around his dick. “Does it feel good, my love?” He asked you.     “Yes,” you breathed.     “Does my little brother make you feel good? Do you love the way his cock stretches your tight little hole?”     You moaned at his dirty words, lulling your head back as Newt's lips wrapped around your nipple. “Y-yes,” you stammered, your hips rocking faster against Newts. “I love it. I love the way he feels inside me.”     “I know you do,” Theseus hummed, his breaths hastening. “You want him to make you cum don’t you, baby?”     You nodded excitedly and Theseus smirked.     “Newt, help her cum,” he said. “She likes it when you speak to her. It turns her on hearing all the dirty things you’re going to do to her.”     “Is that true?” Newt asked you once he pulled his lips from your pert nipples. “You want to hear all the things I want to do to you? Like how I’m gonna fuck your sweet cunt until you’re shaking a quivering under me? How...How I’m gonna fill you up so full with my cum you’ll end up with twins!”     He and Theseus laughed.     “See,” Theseus chuckled as he lifted the fabric of your skirt to reveal the sight of Newt’s cock pumping in and out of you. “She likes it! Look, she’s so wet your cock is soaked!”     Newt looked down and marveled at how wet you were. You took him so well and his cock disappeared inside you with ease. Newt held the skirts of your dress up so he could watch—so they could both watch.     Theseus’s hand rubbed the inside of your thigh. “Do you want me to touch you too, baby?” He asked politely.     You opened your eyes to look at your handsome boyfriend. He had long since undone his tie and unbuttoned his own shirt. His large cock was being tugged by his right hand and you nearly drooled at the sight of it, suddenly missing the feeling of having it shoved down your throat. You loved it when Theseus touched you. His hands were always precise, knowing exactly where to pinch, caress, and stroke. Like how he was rubbing your thigh right now, knowing how sensitive the skin on that area was for you. Your eyes connected and you ached seeing how dark his once baby-blue eyes had become.     “Yes,” you nodded.     Theseus wasted no time pressing his fingers on your aching clit. He rubbed your most sensitive part while his hand teased his own cock. Between his fingers and Newt’s dick plunging deep inside you, your body buzzed with pleasure. The air in the room grew hot and sticky and a symphony of soft moans, grunts, and pants melded with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the slick wetness of your dripping cunt. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening and your eyes shut, desperately chasing that feeling.     “Are you close, darling?” Newt asked once he felt you tighten around him.     “Y-yes!”     Theseus’s fingers rubbed faster to help you get there. “Watch her, Newt,” he urged. “When she comes, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever see.”     Newts darkened hazel eyes trained on you. His grip around the dress wrapped around your waist tightened and her wrapped it around his arm and held your hips steady. His hips snapped upwards, changing pace. You bounced on his cock, your moans growing louder and louder.     “Cum for me, please,” Newt begged, now reaching his own release. “Let me see it. I want to see it. Show me, my love. Show me how beautiful you are when you cum. Please show me.”     He pressed open-mouthed kisses on your chest and neck, his eyes never leaving your face. Theseus’s breaths quickened as well, his pace on his cock matching the pace of your hips rising and sinking on Newt’s member. One of your hands wrapped around the base of Newt’s neck, taking a fist full of his hair. The other grabbed Theseus’s wrist and held his hand in place over your clit. A few more pumps and several flicks was all it took for your body to seize up, tightening around Newt's cock as your whole body trembled. Your moans caught in your throat, struggling to escape. The knot inside your stomach had broke and you came harder than you ever had in your life.     Newt came not long after you, sputtering your name as he did so and holding your hips down, burying his dick deeper inside you and making sure every drop of his cum spilled inside. “F-fuck,” he choked out.     Theseus had cum too, clear, white ribbons of his seed spilled into his hand and onto his abs. He wiped up what had spilled with two fingers and held it up to your lips. You were still dizzy from your orgasm, but it didn't stop you from obediently opening your mouth to suck Theseus’s cum from his fingers. Newt watched as you did this. Your skilled tongue licked and wrapped around Theseus’s long fingers promiscuously, ensuring you cleaned up every last drop.  It was enough to get him hard and twitching inside you again.     “That’s a good girl,” praised Theseus with a smile on his lips. “Isn’t she a good girl, Newt?”     “The best,” Newt agreed.     Theseus pulled his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue by reaching up and pulling you into a deep kiss. It was slow and purposeful, as if he were trying to show off in front of Newt who had no choice but to watch uncomfortably as your tongues swirled passionately in each other’s mouths, earning your soft whimpers. Inside, he hated how much it turned him on.     As you both pulled away, you captured Theseus’s bottom lip between your teeth and playfully tugged it away before letting go. Theseus’s hand quickly flew to tightly wrap around your neck, keeping your eyes trained on him. He smirked. “Look at you, darling. Still asking for more. Aren't you tired?”     Your hand reached down to grip his cock as an answer, making him laugh. His grip around your neck tightened.     “What? Was my brother’s cock not enough for you? You need to have mine as well? Or perhaps you want us both at the same time. Is that it? You need me and my brother to fuck you senseless like the greedy little cock whore you are?”     You clenched at the thought of having both Scamander brothers filling you up at once. Newt felt it and your increasing arousal started to drip down his balls.     “I think she does,” said Newt. “Will that satisfy you, my love? If Theseus and I fucked you within an inch of your life and pumped your selfish cunt full of cum? Tell us you want it.”     You’d never seen this side of Newt. You didn't even think he was capable of saying such filthy things. He was always so sweet and temperate, being shyer than demiguise. But here he was, spurring you on with his debaucherous words. It only made you want him more.     “I want it,” you say and salaciously grind your hips into Newt, making him hiss due to how sensitive he still was.     “Beg,” Theseus demanded. “Tell us how badly you want it.”     Your cheeks burned red hot from embarrassment. Theseus smirked mischievously because he loved watching you squirm. You always begged so nicely for him with your pouty lips and round doe eyes. His little princess. He only wanted Newt to see and appreciate it too.     “Please,” you begged shamelessly. “I want to feel you both inside me. I need to feel it. I want it so bad. I want to make you both feel good.”    “You want to make us feel good?” Theseus repeated. “Such a sweet little girl you are, wanting to please us. But we all know your secret.”     Theseus turned to Newt. “Should we give her what she wants?” He asked.     Newt looked up at your pleading eyes, so sweet and innocent despite them begging for him to fuck you. How could he ever deny you?     “Yes,” he said finally. With that, Theseus picked you up with ease and carried you upstairs to the bedroom. Newt followed behind and once Theseus placed you on the bed he began fully stripping himself of his clothes. Newt followed his brother’s actions, closing the door behind him and peeling off his shirt and pants. You watched them under the candlelight, admiring the two beautiful brothers and their different bodies.     You’d seen Theseus naked a hundred times before but it never ceased to excite you. He was large in every sense of the word. He was tall and had a wide, muscular chest with strong arms and thighs to match. Newt’s body was new and different. Newt was tall as well, only a couple inches shorter than his older brother. Surprisingly, Newt was more muscular and lean. His abs were more pronounced and taut in comparison. Both brothers were freckled, the younger of the two having more of them with accompanying scars. They were beautiful. Having two gorgeous men naked in front of you made you feel nervous and self-conscious. Without realizing it, you had pulled your dress up to cover your body. But Theseus was having none of that.     He crawled over to you on the bed, moving your hands and pulling your dress back down to your waist. Newt sat on the bed as well and pulled the dress down the rest of the way, discarding it on the floor. Theseus trailed kisses up your stomach, chest, neck, and face until he reached your lips. He kissed you passionately and tenderly, reaching for your right hand to intertwine his fingers with yours while Newt peppered soft kisses up your legs and thighs. Their attempt at relaxing you and distracting you from your thoughts worked, and you melded with them both.     “Theseus...” you whispered against his lips because you knew how much he liked hearing it. He shushed you, pecking the corners of your lips.     “Just relax, darling,” he muttered. His hand left yours to grab your thigh, spreading your legs apart.     Newt’s kisses lingered on your inner thigh, nipping, sucking, and biting the sensitive flesh. You trembled under their touch, not sure what to expect next. Theseus hovered over you on your right, covering you with kisses and massaging your breasts while Newt neared dangerously close to your core.     “Such a sweet girl,” Theseus said between kisses.     “I wonder if she tastes just as sweet,” said Newt.     “She does,” Theseus confirmed. “But you’ll just have to taste for yourself.”     The sudden feeling of Newt’s warm tongue licking a licentious stripe along your heat made you gasp. He kissed and sucked on your lower lips, occasionally darting his tongue in and out of your entrance. He licked up and down your dripping cunt before finally swirling his tongue around your clit. Your hips bucked and twitched as he drew figure-eights with his tongue over your sensitive bud. Theseus held your right leg while Newt held down your left, ensuring you kept your legs open for them.    “F-fuck, Newt,” you sighed and closed your eyes, resting your head back into the fluff of the pillow.     Theseus was sucking the skin at the crook of your neck, determined to leave a mark. His hand on your thigh trailed closer and closer to your center until his skilled fingers reached your entrance under Newt's chin. He easily slid his longest digit inside and curled it upwards, instantly finding that spot he knew so well. He pumped his finger in and out, making sure to brush against your g-spot. Soon he added another finger and quickened his pace. Between Newt’s assault on your clit and Theseus’s fingers deep inside you, you were ambushed by another orgasm. White flashed behind your eyes and your hips spasmed. Newt sucked on your clit and Theseus vigorously fingered your hole as you rode out your high until you became too sensitive to touch and begged them to stop.     “No, no, no, baby,” Theseus muttered in your ear. “We can’t stop now,” he said. “We haven't ‘fucked you within an inch of your life’ yet.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. They weren't done with you yet.     Newt came up from between your legs and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Can you taste it?” he asked. “Your sweetness. I can’t get enough of it. I don’t think I ever will.”     Your lips chased his, wanting him to kiss you deeper. You were sandwiched between the two men, Theseus at your back, and Newt before you. You felt Theseus’s cock press flush against your ass while Newt's poked between your legs.     “Are you ready for us, darling?” Theseus asked as he nibbled at your ear.     “Yes,” you answered against Newt’s lips before he slid his tongue back down your throat.     Being as gentle as they could, the two brothers eased their cocks inside of you, introducing you to a whole new sensation. You had never been stretched out like this, with two cocks filling your holes at once. It was strange and slightly uncomfortable at first. They knew this, which is why they took their time, distracting you with their mouths and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and ensuring you were okay.     “You’re doing so well,” they’d say.     “You feel so good.”     “You’re so wonderful, darling.”     “Are we hurting you, sweetheart?”     “Relax for us, my love.”     Theseus’s hand once again found your clit and he began lightly circling it with his fingers to give you some relief. It didn't take long for it to work and your body opened up for them with ease. They pushed deeper inside, inch by inch until they were fully sheathed in your flesh. They both whispered their own set of curses, letting out soft grunts and moans as they began slowly rocking their hips into you.     “Fuuuck,” Theseus moaned. “This ass is so fucking tight. You’re being so good for us, darling.”     “So, so good, love,” panted Newt. “You make us feel so good.”     Your high-pitched mewls and pretty sighs were like music to their ears. They completely engulfed you, body and soul. The world simply slipped away and nothing else mattered besides them, Theseus and Newt, making you feel better than you had ever felt before. You couldn't get enough of them, nor could they get enough of you. You were intoxicated by their scent, their bodies, and their moans. In your minds, you all tried to comprehend how lucky you all were to be in this moment. Nothing could be better than this. Nothing.     “This is it, isn't it?” Theseus panted in your ear. “Your secret. You’ve always wanted this. To have your holes stretched out by our cocks. Does it excite you, my darling, fucking two brothers? One just wasn't enough, was it? You had to have both. Well, now you have it. Now you’re taking our cocks like the good little girl you are, just like you wanted because we decided to give it to you. You should thank us. Go on and thank us, darling. Tell us how much you appreciate being filled up and fucked, blinded by your own pleasure.”     “T-th...Thank you,” you choked out, tears brimming your waterline. “Thank you so much! I wanted this. I always wanted this!”     “Good girl,” Newt praised, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Such a good, good, girl for us. We’re glad to give it to you...Whatever you want, y/n. Whatever you want—a-ah!”      Newt’s thrusts got faster and sloppier, as did Theseus’s. They both worked hard to bury themselves deep inside you. It came to a point where both their cocks were brushing against your g-spot, one after the other. You felt the knot in your core again, that delicious, evanescent knot tightening, ticking like a bomb about to explode and send you to your euphoric escape.     “Oh, God!” You gasped, digging your nails into the skin of Newt’s back and Theseus’s thighs. “Don’t stop! P-please...right there! S-Shit, I love you!” You proclaimed. “Both of you. God, I love both of you so much!”     This seemed to excite them even more, something you didn't know was possible. They thrust into you faster than they ever had before, their winded breaths filling your ears.     “I love you,” Newt breathed. “So...so much...More than anything.” He kissed your lips.     “I love you too, darling,” grunted Theseus. “My sweet girl...Always.” He kissed your lips too.     In that moment the three of you bonded, body and soul. You all came at once, their bodies falling flush against you, twitching in satisfaction. For a while you just lay there as they held you and listened to the sound of their breaths while you waited for the sweet, buzzing feeling to dim. When it did, Theseus got up to fetch a towel from the bathroom, leaving you and Newt cuddled up on the bed, whispering sweetly to one another. They helped clean you up and embraced you with their warmth. You just stared at them, sharing kisses, twirling hair, giggling, holding hands, and gazing lovingly into their eyes. There wasn't much to say. You all knew. You didn’t need to say it. You could feel it in the room. You were complete.     “Do you smell something burning?” Theseus asked suddenly. You and Newt sniffed the air and your eyes widened like saucers.    “THE FUCKING TURKEY!” You gasped, and struggled your way out from between your two lovers, picking one of their shirts from off the floor to cover yourself as you ran downstairs to save what was left of your forgotten Christmas dinner.     Newt and Theseus smiled to themselves and chuckled. There was an awkward silence as they lay there alone, both unsure of what to say or do next.     “I do know how lucky I am, by the way.” Theseus was the first to speak.     “I know,” said Newt.     Theseus turned to his brother. “You can be lucky too...If you want.”     Newt blinked, not fully believing he’d heard what he thought he heard.     “She loves you,” said Theseus.     “She loves you too,” Newt reminded him.     “I know. And we both love her.”     “And we both love her.”      It was as simple as that.     “Thank you, Theseus,” said Newt.     Theseus scoffed and playfully pushed Newt’s shoulder.     “Happy Christmas, Newt.”     “Happy Christmas, Theseus.”

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

The Chicken

(just a small comedy quip (not the fic I've been working on))

Alastor x Reader & Vox

Vox moves into Hazbin Hotel looking for a way to win Alastor redemption...

You giggling with Alastor as you both try to shush the other as Alastor holds both your cargo as quietly as possible...

Alastor uses his umbrakinesis skills to keep you both almost undetectable as you both sneak down the hall to the desired room, holding back laughter at the combined diabolical plan.

Once there he sends forth his main shadow to unlock the door from the inside, keeping the hall in shadow to make sure not to awaken the victim.

You creep in together and there's a slight squeak from Alastor's hands, you both freeze, but the occupant snorts slightly in his slumber and stays that way to your relief.

You give Alastor a smug glare as he had been inistant he would make the least disturbance.

Finally you're both able to arrange everything the way you need it, swiftly and with only one small incident where you both panic as 'he' mumbled Alastor's name in his sleep, Alastor glares at you mortified and beseeching you to never mention it again.

Once safely out the room and back inside Alastor's you both fall about laughing for a good long while, making theories on what will happen when he wakes and finds the little surprise you both left... Re-enforced with Alastor's magic so it would be unremovable and indestructible until he deems otherwise.

---

The next morning...

Vox: "WHAT THE FUCK!" Followed by a loud screeching noise that has you and Alastor who had been loitering in the hall absolutely dying of laughter already, tears forming in your eyes as screech after screech sounds in Vox's room as he tries to find a solution to his problem...

Vox's door bangs open and there's a rather odd large lump in the front of his pyjama trousers, you both try and fail to look innocent as his furious look.

Vox: "What the fuck did you do to me!"

Alastor: "Why we simply gave you an upgrade, you were after all saying how versatile it was to have things interchangeable, we were just being good samaritans and giving you something worthy of your entertaining personality." He says smoothly as Vox's screen glitches and you snort in laughter.

Vox tries to round on you but Alastor steps in front of you.

Alastor: "Ah, ah, ah, old pal, I wouldn't even think of that if I were you, only I have the power to help you with your little problem and you harm a single hair on this ones head and you'll find you're stuck with a permanent attachment for as long as you exist." Alastor says so darkly even You shiver, although you're not sure if the source is fear... Or something else entirely.

Vox grumbles something along the lines of "we'll see about that" and stomps of the his room with little squeaks along the way.

You: "Have fun choking the chicken!" You call after him to raucous laughter from Alastor as you also have to lean on him for support having set yourself off too.

Vox's muffled voice swears, and there's a hilarious amount of squawking and squeaking likely finding no way to sever the rubber chicken from his pelvis and unable to find a way to loosen it from the attachment slot.

You and Alastor continue enjoying the show, both crying and holding each other for support now as Vox seemingly gives up to get ready for the day.

You both head for breakfast as there's not much else to hear as Vox heads to his bathroom... Still determined to not miss work it seems.

Breakfast was just as entertaining as Alastor willingly sat next to Vox, which one any other day would've had the TV man ecstatic yet today, he was anything but, as Alastor would find 'innocent' reasons to jostle Vox just enough for a slight squeak each time, that had you cracking up as Alastor would watch you keenly for reactions, his own face the mask of innocence as the repetitive sound had even Charlie wondering where it was coming from and asking Alastor if he could check the doors for squeaky hinges, to which he agreed knocking Vox again with a squeak as he emphatically gestures and speaks with Charlie, and Angel gives you a knowing look as you stare at Alastor.

---

Vox heads to work, he brings a briefcase and uses it to block the view of his oddly shaped bulge.

Vox makes it through with minor squeaking thankfully, but then it's time for his news segment, and unusually stays behind his desk throughout, but unfortunately and without thinking with his own exaggerated gesturing he crosses his legs with an almighty squeal from the chicken and everything goes quiet and everyone stares at Vox, who's stuck in that position now as if he uncrosses his legs the flattened chicken would reinflate with such a squark he wouldn't even live through the mortification, though he wonders if he'll survive this one.

Meanwhile at the hotel you and Alastor, who decided it was about time to put the picture box to good use and support your new 'friend', we're rolling about laughing so hard right now all the words anyone could make from the pair of you were "squawk" and "chicken".

When Vox finally returns to the hotel cheeks a darker blue than usual on his screen, he manages to corner you both and Alastor finally agrees to let Vox 'alleviate' his problem, under one condition... He makes the chicken make a loud sound on purpose in the main lobby, with Lucifer present...

Vox tried to beg, and plead, but Alastor's evil grin is unmoved and finally Vox gives in with such a death glare, 'if looks could kill' almost manifested.

Once he's gone...

Alastor: "Thank you My Dear, you were right all along, to make him leave me alone from his fawning, all I had to do was humiliate him, no wonder torture never worked".

You: "Much obliged, and you owe me money for the chicken, you know once he can get that off he'll shred it."

Alastor: "It's a deal".

Another huge squeak from the lobby has you both snickering and pelting straight towards the lobby eager to not miss the looks on everyone's faces.

[gayf1hoe]

Personality Breakthrough

Scenario - Y/N is cold towards the media and often lying mistaken for rude. But there is one person who makes him light up and become more open towards the media, and that's Oscar Piastri.

Y/N is undeniably one of the greatest F1 drivers of his generation, he has skills and a driving style that are unparalleled. He has been in Formula 1 just for 2 years, last year he was with Kick Suaber where his talent was showcased, he managed to bring a team that was at the bottom of the constructors into the mid field, this ultimately led him to be promoted up to Ferrari.

Before joining F1 he was the protégé of Red Bull, in F2 he raced for Carlin which had strong links to Red Bull so when he announced that he would be joining Sauber it was certainly a surprise to many.

Since his arrival on track apart from his astonishing abilities one other thing has stuck out about him and that's his pure lament, disinterest and hate for anything media related. It has been an all too common thing for him since he got into motorsports, even as a kid in karting when there was a national or international competition he still didn't engage with the media, as he's grown older his hate for the media has also grown. He's naturally a closed off person, despite all the media opportunities he's never taken any of them.

Netflix revealed they had even offered him money to appear on Drive to Survive but he didn't even answer their request. From his rookie year to now he has been through 4 media managers who have all failed to get him to appear in interviews or any media thing. Despite having a large social media following he is no way proactive, he will only post about major events such as contract changes but other than that nothing.

He is regularly accused of being rude but if he is asked a question he will provide a response but it's normally incredibly vague and doesn't actually answer the question. Many have compared him to Kimi Räikkönen but much worse.

At the conclusion of the final race of the season in Abu Dhabi there was the regular press conference for the guys who finished on the podium. Max who had finished P1 and Y/N who had finished P2 were already there waiting for it to start. The only one missing was Oscar who was still caught up in interviews so the conference commenced and it was decided Oscar can join half way through.

As the questions kept coming and coming, Y/N was giving less and less in response and Max was having to do double the work to make up for it.

Y/N looked like he was about to fall asleep until the Papaya driver entered the room with his golden retriever smile. Y/N automatically sat up in his seat and let up a small smile which is the most anyone has ever managed to get out of him. Max had noticed the shift in Y/N's demeanour and found himself caught up in the young driver's confusing change of emotions.

Between questions Oscar would turn to Y/N and make small talk with him and he would get the occasional light laugh from him.

At the end of the interview the three left the room and went their separate ways and that would normally be the end of it, but when Y/N returned to his room and started scrolling through social media to see what media coverage there was over Max winning the championship and him coming third in the standings all he could see was comments under the press conference that said:

“The way Y/N smiled when Oscar entered the room”

“Max definitely knows what's going on between Y/N and Oscar”

“There's something about the way Y/N acts around Oscar that tells me they aren't just friends”

These comments and theories are the exact reason Y/N actively avoids social media.

Going into the new season there were obviously developments in the relationship between Y/N and Oscar. The two never initially said anything about their relationship status but fans had started making their own conclusions.

Their evidence was the fact that Y/N over the winter break had become more open to the media, he still was nowhere near happy to do media engagements but he looked less forced. He also would only do interviews if Oscar was by his side.

One notable occurrence that almost confirmed it for fans was when during Martin Brundle’s regular grid walk at Monaco he attempted to get a quick interview with Y/N but he pretended not to hear Martin, but he later returned with Oscar next to him and was open for an interview.

The announcers even picked up Y/N's shift in demeanour between when he's with Oscar and when he's not, constantly hinting at it during races when the two would face each other. Ferrari had apparently been begging Oscar to be around Y/N so they were able to get him to do media events and advertising.

It wasn't until the summer break that Oscar would confirm him and Y/N are more than just friends on an Australian daytime TV show. He openly admitted that it's been hard to get Y/N to be himself around the media and act nice to them. He said that Y/N is completely different away from the cameras and is a really fun person to be around.

Upon the return to the season Y/N would make a greater effort to work with the media, he still wasn't perfect at it but that didn't matter because Oscar believed he was perfect.