WHAT AM I DOING THO

What a wild few years. Tomorrow is my birthday. I won't say how old. The book made me nostalgic and I found myself reading through the old long-deleted-from-the-internet fanfics and headcanons and the entire world and history I came up with for this idiot. Good memories. Funny how a lot of my opinions and headcanons have changed over time.

To be clear I have no intentions of coming back here because my job is crazy busy and I would never have time to do this anymore. I certainly do miss writing though and I look back fondly at the years I spent in this fandom on this site, and the fandoms I found myself in after here. Some great times had and some wonderful friends made, even if you've all become long lost over the years. Maybe I'll venture back under some random well masked fanfiction pseudonym.

{{ Hello there! c: Whether you stay or not, is entirely up to you, but for the time being— welcome back! }}

heyyy uuu

     He’s setting up pieces either side of a map, half marked with a lion and half with a wolf, each shape representing a certain area of an army’s force -- naval; infantry; siege works; even the House’s Lord himself. It is a game he’s known for years; a way for young men to play at war without the risk of COLLATERAL DAMAGE, taught to him by his master in the fighting pens of the North who fortunately saw promise in his sharp young mind  ( and without that ounce of sympathy and CARE given by the otherwise cold, harsh man, Haymitch thinks he might’ve died rather than outsmart his every opponent ).  He doesn’t really like to contemplate on the darker moments of his past, but his vow to the Lannister matriarch and his genuine FONDNESS for their boy King far outweighs the anguish reminiscing may cause. If Tommen is to be a good King, he needs to learn how to SURVIVE. Strategy is essential. Luckily, the boy seems to have more sense and less rage than his deceased brother. There’s a chance he’ll be good at this.

     She’s losing him, she can FEEL it. & she doesn’t know why it scares her so much. ❝ haymitch, wait  ————  ❞ she moves in front of him again, eyes darting back & forth as to think of a plan. ❝ how close we were getting…. it scared me. the last time i was in a serious relationship, it ended in pain.  & then the whole tommy thing happened. i was falling for you & what do i do when something like that happens  ?  i RUN. ❞ her eyes fall to the floor, then. he’s right, it is her fault. nobody but hers. now, it’ll definitely end in pain because the brunette has sabotaged it. ❝ like i said, i wanted to say these things in person. you deserved a warning. & i’m sorry i just took off. i understand if you never want to see me again. i wouldn’t if i were you, either. ❞

     He once gave his word to Ned Stark that he’d watch over his daughters in the capital. Try as he might, it’s a promise he’s of late been neglecting. But what can he do, truly? Is he expected to speak up; to openly forbid the spoilt brat of a King from setting his dogs on the poor girl? Is he supposed to fight the Kingsguard (and perhaps every Lannister man in the Red Keep as a consequence) whenever they dare lay a hand on her? He’s been at a loss, but no more. For too long he’s stood by and said nothing -- done nothing -- let the lions brand him as one of their own and abandoned the man he’s always tried to be. A decent, honourable man of the North would not allow a Stark daughter to be harmed by Southern monsters. A man of the North would fight to rescue the girl at any cost. It’s that man he longs to be once more. The South leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.