#wow ive actually written something for once
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𓆩 semi public with bottom vi
you shushed her, clamping your free hand over her mouth as your other hand was in her pants. playing with her under all her layers. her slick covered your fingers as you ran them through her folds, agonisingly slow. vi jerked her hips towards you in a silent plea. the music from the bar bled into the little cleaning cupboard that you had shoved vi into, and you hoped it would be enough to mask any pretty sounds she makes.
you finally grazed the tips of your index and middle finger against her swollen clit and she groaned, leaning her head back on the wall behind her. you could've sworn you felt the whisper of a 'please' against your palm. she ground her hips into your hand impatiently and you just brought your lips to her neck, and sucked marks into the sensitive skin. vi was hot all over, and she wished you would just take her clothes off and stop fucking teasing. but she knew you both didn't have time for that.
chatter and the scraping of chairs just outside the door made vi freeze and look at you with wide eyes, but you just smiled wickedly, and slipped a finger into her wetness. she gasped but welcomed you with a clench around your finger. you went back to marking her neck sloppily as you thrusted in and out of her, stretching her out slowly. vi shivered at the feeling, but she was still very aware of the people that just sat outside. her tummy fluttered at the risk, and she clenched around you again. you giggled against her neck and moved your lips to the shell of her ear.
"you're filthy",you whispered, emphasising it with a deep thrust. a moan escaped vi's lips, drowning out the already low volume of the music outside. "you want another, pretty girl?"
vi nodded against your hand eagerly and grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer. "p-please"
she kept a tight grip on your wrist as you slipped a second finger into her heat. you settled your fingers as deep as you could in her and she tried spreading her legs for you, but it was a little difficult with her pants halfway down her muscled thighs. vi would've taken them fully off, but she kinda enjoyed the idea of you getting her off while you both still had (most) of your clothes on. you picked up the pace, and curled your fingers. expertly finding your favourite spot.
vi gripped your shoulder for stability as her thighs started to shake. she really tried to hold back her moans, she really did, but your fingers brushing against her spot every time you slammed your fingers in and out of her really didn't help. you were determined to have the whole bar hear her. you removed your hand from her mouth and caught her soft lips in an eager kiss. vi moaned sweetly into your mouth as your free hand trailed under her shirt, rolling over the toned muscles of her stomach on your way to her tits.
you snaked your hand under her bra and rolled her taut nipple between your fingers. she groaned into your lips as you played with her. she grew wetter around you and you slipped in and out of her with even more vigour. you pulled away and watched her features scrunch in pleasure and concentration, both on your touch and keeping her moans in. her eyes shot open in surprise when you didn't place your hand back over her mouth.
"try not to let the people just outside hear how much of a slut you are, yeah?”, you whispered against her ear. a shiver ran down vi's spine and warmth fluttered in her stomach. she clenched around you again with a choked whimper.
she was so close. she was trying so hard to hold in her pretty sounds as you stretched her out with your fingers. but each escaping whimper and moan got louder with each thrust. a third finger joined the other two and vi swore in surprise.
“you're being such a good girl for me”,you cooed, against her ear again.
that did it. her thighs squeezed around your hand as the muscled brawler came around your finger. a pleasured groan ripped out of her throat, filling the room. you heard the chatter outside the door falter while vi panted. clearly not caring anymore how loud she was.
this is actually part of a 3-part request i got AGES ago, but i'm going to upload them individually instead because they'll be uploaded quicker that way!!
✧ helpful links ✧ masterlist ✧ masterlist ii ✧
#wow ive actually written something for once#vi x reader#vi arcane#lesbian#pixievi vi#arcane women#arcane x reader#arcane x female reader#arcane x you#vi x you#wlw smut
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Studious II (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+
After your last coupling, Prince Aemond has been acting quite strangely toward you. It doesn't make sorting out your own feeling for him any easier...
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)
Warnings: smut (kinda?) , male masturbation, female masturbation (attempted), more Aegon commentary, more Aemond awkwardness
Author's Note: WOW, I was not expecting anyone to like my awkward Aemond brain dump, but boy howdy did y'all... I hope this lives up to the hype!
Read Part I Here - Read Part III Here - Read Part IV Here
My Masterlist
Taglist below the cut
Studious II
The day after his marriage, utterly distraught by the look of confusion and dissatisfaction on his wife’s face after the bedding, Prince Aemond Targaryen came to terms with the fact that he desperately needed help. And though it went against every instinct he had to ask for it, he would much rather admit this weakness – this shortcoming – than suffer seeing that disappointment on her sweet face each time he came to her.
He went to Grand Maester Orwyle first. For while he had taken a vow of chastity, his knowledge of anatomy would be more than useful. Besides, he had always been kind and patient with Aemond during their lessons in his youth – he would not judge the Prince for this failing.
For more practical knowledge, he asked Lord Jasper Wylde, his father’s Master of Laws. His long-held position on the Small Council proved he could be trusted. More than that, the man had seeded twenty-seven surviving legitimate children thus far, and another was soon expected. ‘Ironrod’ clearly knew what he was doing.
Lastly, Aemond reluctantly enlisted the help of his older brother. He had his doubts about whether Aegon actually knew anything useful. Still, no one could deny that he had more relevant experience than anyone in King’s Landing who was not a whore.
Aemond listened to their advice diligently, as if it were no different from anything else he had studied. And, like always, he had been a good student.
The glorious sounds his wife had made when he started putting his lessons to use still echoed in his mind. The gentle whine when he had kissed her. The sharp inhale when he had started caressing her. The shiver that ran through her when he found her ‘pearl,’ as Aegon had called it. And her delicious gasp when he found that sweet spot inside her.
But there were other sounds – worse sounds. The alarm in her voice after he had brushed his tongue against her lips. Her confusion as to why he was touching her at all. How her eyes had gone wide with panic when he began to pleasure her, and how she had begged him to stop.
And every time he closed his eyes, he saw her hiding her face in her pillows after he smiled at seeing her find her own pleasure as he thrust into her – as though the very idea of enjoying being with him was something incomprehensible. Like it scared her.
She hadn’t wanted to look at him, kiss him, or be pleased by him. And she hadn’t come.
So, he assembled his advisors the next day, seeking some explanation of what he had done wrong. Or new instructions on how to please her in a way she wouldn’t eschew.
They had quickly decided the solution wasn’t some new technique, but for Aemond to ‘woo’ her.
The prospect at once delighted and terrified him.
At least he had advisors to help him figure out how.
Indeed, Lord Wylde had taken on the demeanour of a man plotting a war. He asked Aemond to list every detail he knew about his new bride and wrote everything he said word-for-word on a piece of parchment, along with his own commentary and musings on strategies.
Aegon’s comments and observations, mostly concerning her breasts, were not written down.
But the elder Prince did not mind, as he was quickly distracted by his own interrogation of Grand Maester Orwyle. He wanted to know precisely when, why, and how the Maester had pleasured Helaena.
Once Orwyle finished giving him the details, it was clear the Prince was far more impressed than offended. When Aegon finally turned back to the matter at hand, the Maester said a silent prayer of thanks that he was not going to lose his head.
After more than an hour of strategising, they had devised several courses of action for Aemond to try.
“She will be so enamoured by you that you won’t even have to touch her to get her to come,” Aegon declared proudly.
Orwyle and Wylde winced at the Prince’s crass words, but could not deny they also felt confident in the plan.
Aemond growled at his brother, eye blazing with rage. “This isn’t just about sex, Aegon. I want... I want her to like me.”
He sighed and slumped in his chair, running a hand over his flushed face. While he would never admit it aloud, he wanted so much more than to just be liked by his wife.
He wanted her to feel the same thing he felt exploding in his chest every time he looked at her. The intensity of the feeling was more frightening than losing his eye had been. And more thrilling than his first flight on Vhagar.
More than anything, he wanted her to love him – as he loved her.
But as his fingers grazed the leather strap of his eyepatch, he knew it was an impossible dream.
She was so beautiful. So gentle and kind. So pure and full of light.
He was monstrous. In the years since losing his eye, he had become as hideous in his soul as he was in the flesh. He had delved so deep into the darkness of his anger, resentment, and hatred that he knew there was no escape.
Until she had come into his life.
From the first moment he saw her step out of her father’s carriage, he knew that if she looked on him affectionately and allowed her holy light to shine upon him just once… perhaps he could be saved from damnation.
“I need her to like me,” he sighed, feeling not like the fearsome Prince and warrior he was, but like a whimpering, desperate child.
A dozen snide, and admittedly quite witty, comments died on Aegon’s lips. Once, he would not have hesitated to say them, to laugh at the hurt in his brother’s eyes.
But that was before Driftmark.
Before he had failed to protect Aemond from their bastard nephews – spurred on by the very teasing Aegon had once led them in. Though he wasn’t there when the eye was actually cut, he knew that if he hadn’t been such a twat before then, his brother would be whole.
He would still be an awkward, pathetic mess with no clue how to fuck a woman properly, but… he wouldn’t think himself so unworthy of his wife.
“Well,” Aegon drawled, slipping back into the mask of the blithe, carefree Prince everyone knew him to be. “I think we can at least manage ‘like.’ Now, get off your brooding ass, woo the girl, and make her come!”
-
You sat comfortably in a secluded corner of the Red Keep’s library, reading the book you had been forced to set down after your husband’s arrival in your chambers the night before.
Libraries were all the same, no matter where they were. The peaceful quiet interrupted only by the turning of heavy pages every so often. The soft shafts of yellow sunlight streaming through the small windows – stained glass, if you were lucky. The smell of old paper and well-worn leather.
It was far too easy to imagine you were back in your father’s library at home. Even better, this little corner you found felt as private as your own rooms.
More private, perhaps. Here, Prince Aemond could not barge in requesting you perform your marital duties.
Or so you thought.
A shadow stopped in front of you, blocking out the mottled sunlight you were using to read. Thinking that perhaps it was later than you’d thought, and one of the Maesters had come to tell you that you’d once again stayed past the library curfew, you looked up with a polite smile.
And met the single violet eye of your husband.
“Good afternoon, wife,” he greeted, dipping his head slightly and giving a decidedly awkward smile.
With his dimples, he was very nearly handsome when he smiled. But it did not quite reach his eye, and his brow was set too hard for you to truly see him as such.
Blinking rapidly as you tried to quickly hide your disappointment that your private reading spot was discovered, you returned the smile as best you could. “Husband.”
Aemond stared at you as though he expected more, as was apparently his habit, but you only stared back.
Why should it fall to you to put more effort into the marriage than he did?
Finally, he cleared his throat slightly. “I was wondering if I may join you in your reading? I noticed last night that you were reading Valyrian history. It is a favourite subject of mine.”
Indeed, you had begun studying the history of House Targaryen more in-depth the moment your betrothal was announced. You wanted to familiarise yourself with the family you were to join.
Though your ideas about becoming a true member of the family faded quickly, you continued your research. As much as the disappointment of your marriage had made you loathe to admit it, it was a fascinating history.
But now it meant Aemond wanted to read with you…
“I am sure you’ve read this particular history before,” you said, shyly showing him the title. It was little more than a beginner’s primer, almost more a storybook than a proper history, but you had to start somewhere. “Would you not rather read something more… novel?”
He laughed slightly, and you realised you had just unintentionally made a play on words. And not even a particularly clever one.
“Seeing my family’s history through your eyes would be quite ‘novel,’ as you so cleverly put it,” he replied, obviously quite determined, if he was willing to compliment you.
Was that… the first compliment he ever gave you?
When he smiled at you like that, it brought you back to the way he smiled when he had done… whatever it was he had done while he was inside you that made your vision burst into stars.
You blushed as heat pooled in your stomach at the memory, and the feelings that came with it. Your feelings about him, which you hadn’t yet allowed yourself to sort through – if you even wanted to.
He had made you feel so small and unwanted in the training yard when he grimaced and ran away from you. But then he had touched you so gently and gazed at you reverently at your slight gasp of pleasure like it was as beautiful a sound as he’d ever heard.
And then he left. Again.
But that was what you wanted – wasn’t it?
You had no idea what you wanted. And right now, figuring it out wasn’t your primary concern.
What he wanted from you was.
You prayed it was honestly just to discuss history.
So, you smiled as genuinely as you could and gestured to the seat across from you. “Then I would be… happy to have you join me.”
His eye lingered slightly on the seat next to you, but he nodded and took the seat you indicated.
You looked at him. He looked at you.
“Should I…” you began, at the exact moment he opened his mouth to speak.
You looked down, clamping your lips shut to let him speak first – as a good wife does.
He let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh before setting his hand on the table. You watched as he flexed his fingers, wondering for a moment if he wanted you to reach out as well – if he wanted to hold your hand.
It was a ridiculous thought. One you silently scolded yourself for as you gripped the book harder, keeping your hands firmly where they were.
Silence fell as he mulled over his words, the left corner of his mouth twitching every so often as though he had almost decided what to say. Not wanting to interrupt, you simply sat there, pondering how uncomfortable you had become in this once-soothing place.
When it was just you, you savoured the silence. When he was here, you abhorred it.
“Do you have any questions?” Aemond asked, finally breaking the silence.
His words confused you. Was he referring to the book or to him? You had so many questions about what he had done last night, though you were more than a little afraid to ask them.
“What kind of questions should I have?” you replied, ashamed by how small your voice came out. Hopefully, he interpreted it as respect for the library.
He quirked his head, his lips again spreading in that not-quite smile, not-quite frown he often made after you had said something to him. Then, on the table, his hand curled into a fist.
“Just…” he gestured to the book. “Questions about what you don’t understand. I would be more than happy to help you.”
If your mind had been clearer, perhaps you would have seen the offer for what it was: a genuine desire to help and, perhaps, a way to get to know you better.
But something about Aemond clouded all your good sense as thoroughly as a stormy sea.
Your brow instantly furrowed in anger. Did he really think you were so stupid you could not understand a simple book meant for children?
“I have no questions,” you said coldly, your voice louder and harder than before.
Aemond blinked, his eye widening as he reached further across the table toward you. “I… I have studied the histories extensively, and I know they are complicated and difficult to understand. If there is anything that you are struggling with, or – ”
“Of course,” you cut him off. All your mother’s advice about how to be a good, dutiful wife was long forgotten as your anger rose higher and higher. “It is quite a difficult book. The words, I’m afraid, are well past my simple understanding. I’ve actually only been looking at the illustrations.”
His face was frozen, his eye wide, and his mouth hanging slightly open. He looked remarkably like a freshly caught fish. You laughed at the thought, slammed the book shut, and stood.
“Although,” you hissed. “Even the pictures have started to become too ‘complicated’ for me. I’m afraid my headache is returning.”
He finally blinked and leaned across the table, truly reaching for your hand now. “No… I didn’t…”
You stepped away, harshly pulling your hand away from his. “If you will excuse me, husband. I must rest before the evening meal, or else I fear I will be too exhausted to participate in any intelligent conversation.”
That look of hurt again came over Aemond’s face, but you were far too angry to care. As you stomped out of the library, you did look back at him once.
If you had, you would have seen him slump over in his chair with his head in his hands before he pounded his clenched fist against the wood table, earning quite the scolding from a nearby Maester.
-
You once again did not attend the evening meal with Aemond and his family.
It had been a hard decision to come to. You had even dressed before finally deciding to remain in your rooms. But in the end, you supposed that the consequences of missing a second night would be easier to endure than an evening sitting next to your husband.
Your husband, who so obviously disliked you and thought you were an idiot.
That was what he had insinuated, wasn’t it? Why else would he have offered you help in understanding a children’s history book?
It was stupid of you to even want to read about Targaryen history, you scolded yourself. It was little more than a repetitive tale of countless generations of dragonriders who all shared the same handful of names. A stupid story about a stupid civilisation.
But as you sat at your desk eating your solitary meal, you couldn’t help but wish you hadn’t left the book in the library.
You contemplated sending one of your maids to fetch it, but you had no doubt Aemond would hear about it. That is, if he hadn’t just taken it himself.
Oh gods, what if he had?
He would find the notes you had made and tucked into the cover – including the family tree you sketched to keep all the names straight. It would only confirm his suspicions about your intellect.
You could picture his smug smile when he found the notes. The way the corners of his mouth would lift just enough to expose his dimples. There would be an arrogant twinkle in that violet eye. Perhaps he would be so amused by his simple-minded wife that he would have to bite his lip to hold back a laugh. Those lovely pink lips that had felt so soft on yours…
Shaking your head violently to banish the foolish, lustful thoughts, you took a long drink of your wine. Hopefully, it would soothe your nerves enough for you to think about anything but Aemond. Or at least enough to calm your breathing and banish the heat that bloomed beneath your thighs.
Once again, you lost your appetite and sent your meal away only half-eaten.
You needed to pray.
That was the only answer. The only way you could rid your mind of these horrible, sinful thoughts.
You had only just grabbed your copy of The Seven-Pointed Star when there was a knock at the door.
Not again.
“Who is it?” you asked, heart pounding with both nervousness and anticipation.
“It is Grand Maester Orwyle, Princess,” came an unfamiliar voice. “The Queen sent word you were unwell.”
A great wave of relief and disappointment washed over you, your book falling to the floor as your hands went slack. “Yes, come in,” you called.
Then, to yourself, you whispered, “I am quite unwell, indeed.”
-
The next afternoon, you sat comfortably on your couch, still in your nightgown and robe. It was improper, yes. But after assessing you in your somewhat panicked state the night before, Orwyle commanded you be relieved of your duties for the next few days.
‘Duties’ was a strong word, as your responsibilities only required you to stand silently next to your husband at court and gossip with the Ladies in the afternoon.
Still, you were glad to be rid of them, even if only for a few days. You had plans to go to Sept and pray and to sort out your feelings for your husband – the frightening, complicated feelings that had you so rattled that the Grand Maester himself thought you to be genuinely ill.
But not today.
Today, you would simply rest, drink your chamomile tea, and read the books your maid had fetched from the library.
None of them were history books. That had been the one requirement you had. Well, that and no romance.
So, as you sipped your tea, you allowed yourself to fall into the world of your book – a world of grand adventure, mythical beasts, and a pirate lord with a dashing smile and eyepatch…
Damn.
You threw the book aside, dangerously near the lit hearth, and crossed your arms. But before you could get too far into your wallowing, there was a knock at your door. Again.
“Who is it?” you called, eyes blazing as though you could see through the wood and smite whoever stood behind the door.
There was silence.
“It is Aemond,” came his soft, melodic voice. “May I please come in?”
You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to say ‘no. No, I don’t want to see you.’
“Yes, you may,” your voice said instead. You baulked, unsure how the words came out so wrong.
The moment he stepped through the door, you turned your eyes down. You didn’t want to look at him, for you knew if you did, your logic would abandon you as whatever it was you felt for him overcame you.
But then you caught a flash of bright pink, and your head snapped up.
Aemond was carrying a small bouquet of dog roses, your favourite flower.
The large blooms were the most vibrant pink you had ever seen, perhaps even more so than in the fields where they grew back at home. Even the dot of yellow in their centres seemed as bright as the sun.
They seemed so out of place against the wall of black leather that was Aemond.
Slowly, you looked up from the flowers to face your husband. He had crossed the room to stand before you – awkwardly, as always. His lips were pursed, and his brow set in a deep furrow.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly and quietly, stiffly holding the flowers out to you. “For what I said yesterday.”
You did not move to take them. Did not blink. Did not breathe.
“I did not mean to offend you,” he continued, arm still extended. With the flowers only inches from your face, you could see how tightly he held the stems – his knuckles were bone white. “I spoke without thinking, and my words did not accurately reflect my intentions. I only meant – ”
His voice faltered as you reached up for the flowers. You did not want him to snap the stems. They would die more quickly if he did.
As your fingers brushed his, he flinched, dropping the flowers unceremoniously onto your lap. You immediately grabbed them, carefully examining each bloom to ensure it was not damaged. Thankfully, they were intact.
You stared and stared at them, memories flooding your mind. Every year, your entire family would journey to the fields where the dog roses bloomed. First, you would picnic together in the grass, the happiest meal of the year. Then, when you were finished, you and your siblings would race to examine each flower, competing to see who could find the loveliest bloom.
They would do so without you this year.
Distantly, you heard Aemond saying your name, drawing your attention back to him. He was frowning, his brow crumpled. “I thought…” he whispered, “I thought you would like them.”
You blinked, confused by his words. But the motion sent the tears welling in your eyes spilling down your cheeks. You were so caught up in your memories you did not notice you were crying.
As you looked back down at the flowers, you missed the subtle movement of Aemond’s hand, reaching out to wipe the tears away. Instead, when you moved away, he clenched his fist so tightly that his nails began to bite into his palm.
“I miss home,” was all you could say before the tears began to fall in earnest.
Aemond stepped back, bumping into the low table before the couch. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I did not mean to upset you.”
Then he turned, stumbling into the table once more, and left.
As the sound of the shutting door echoed in your mind, you did not know whether you were still crying from your homesickness, or because he had left you again.
-
After Aemond left, and you had finally stopped crying, you had one of your maids set the bouquet in a vase. But not before you had carefully inspected each stem to be sure they were intact.
Somehow, they were.
You put the vase on your vanity where the flowers could catch the sunlight before crawling into your bed, intending to take a nap after what was an unintentionally exhausting morning.
But you did not find sleep.
Instead, you stared at the ceiling, thinking over what Aemond said.
He had apologised for making you feel stupid, and then you immediately cried over flowers.
You had never felt more stupid.
And now you felt like you needed to apologise.
So, despite having Orwyle’s official permission to skip all your obligations, you finally rose from your bed as the sun set and asked your maids to dress you for dinner.
Because you made your decision to attend the evening meal at the last minute, the rest of the family had already begun eating when you arrived.
Aemond, who sat facing the door, was the first to see you. His eye immediately went wide, and he stood so quickly that a servant had to catch his chair before it toppled to the ground.
Aegon began laughing hysterically.
Queen Alicent shushed him once before she stood, giving you a mildly concerned but otherwise pleasant smile. “I’m so glad you could join us, my dear,” she said pleasantly as she gestured for you to sit. “We were beginning to worry about you.”
“I have simply been tired,” you assured her as you slowly walked around the table to your place. Curious, they had still set a place for you, despite your missing the last two meals. “Adjusting to life at court has been more difficult than I thought.”
As you came to stand before your chair, Aemond held a hand out to help you sit. Then, just as you had only hours before, you looked from his hand to his face. His brow was still set in a furrow, but he was almost smiling.
You took his hand, squeezing it tighter than you usually would. The only forgiveness you could give while being watched by his mother, grandsire, and siblings.
He seemed to understand, giving you a real smile – a breathtakingly beautiful smile – as you sat. You wanted to return it, but all your lips would do was tremble pathetically. You were sure that if you opened your mouth, you would burst into tears. So, you fixed your eyes on your plate and listened to the idle conversation around you.
Aemond himself began serving your plate, somehow knowing exactly what you liked and what you didn’t. When he finished, you looked over to him briefly and nodded your thanks, earning another of those beautiful smiles.
Your stomach flipped, and you told yourself it was only because you were hungry.
Neither you nor Aemond said anything to each other for the rest of the meal. Instead, you were more than content to simply listen. Or try to.
You were all too aware of every movement Aemond made. The way his long, elegant fingers gripped his goblet. The severe line of his jaw moving when he responded to his grandsire’s questions. The way he sat, legs bowed slightly outward to allow him comfortably at the table.
If you weren’t careful, your leg would brush against his.
You made sure to be very careful.
What you were not aware of was Prince Aegon’s eyes on you, noticing each time your eyes slid to his brother. Every so often, he would dip his chin and raise his brows when he made eye contact with Aemond, nodding toward you in encouragement.
Aemond noticed, but did nothing to act on it.
Not until the meal was ended and everyone rose from the table. He stepped to your side and extended his arm, accidentally bumping you, rather firmly, with his sharp elbow and causing you to jump away from him.
“I’m sorry,” Aemond said hastily. “I just… I hoped I could escort you back to your chambers?”
You looked at him for a moment, at the near-pleading in his eye, and nodded, slipping your arm into his for the first time since your wedding ceremony, and began to lead you through the castle halls.
As your private chambers were separate from the rest of the family’s, you were alone as you walked. You were not sure whether you were grateful for it or not.
The silence was palpable and nearly painful.
“Thank you,” you whispered, and Aemond stumbled at the unexpected sound. “For the flowers, I mean. They are a favourite from home.”
You looked up at him, and he gave another half-smile, but said nothing.
Silence fell once more.
“You look very beautiful tonight,” Aemond said, nearly shouting the sudden words. The corner of his lips twitched when you looked at him in shock. “This dress suits you much better than the one you wore yesterday, and is far more flattering than your nightclothes.”
Any warmth you felt at the initial compliment was thoroughly snuffed out at the remainder of the comment. Though you once more felt like crying, you schooled your features into indifference as you turned away from him, only looking straight ahead.
“I did not know you disliked them so,” you muttered, removing your arm from his and clasping your hands in front of you. You fixed your gaze straight ahead and did not waver. “I will not wear them again.”
Aemond stilled, but you did not break your stride. You only knew he followed after a moment when you heard the soft sounds of his boots against stone.
You walked in silence until you reached your door, then turned back to him. “Is there anything you require of me tonight, husband?”
He wore that expression of hurt that caused your chest to tighten, but you did not allow yourself to react. Finally, after a long moment, he licked his lips and shook his head once.
That was all the dismissal you needed. You opened your door just enough to slip through and shut it firmly behind you.
You did not speak to your maids as they prepared you for bed until they presented you with one of your favourite cotton nightgowns and your robe.
“Not those,” you whispered, though you longed for their comfort and warmth. “Something else. Anything else.”
They dressed you in one of the thin silk nightdresses, one which matched the colour of the dress you just removed. Though it was soft and luxurious against your skin, as you settled beneath your covers, you felt cold.
In the hall, Aemond took a stumbling step forward to rest his forehead against your door, his hand resting on the handle but not moving. He stayed like that for many long moments, silently cursing himself, before he stepped away and retreated to his own chambers.
-
The following day, you woke still feeling tired. It had been hard to find sleep when you felt so cold. When curling into yourself still did not warm you, you rose from the bed and stalked to your dressing room, determined to find your more comfortable nightclothes.
But the moment you ran your hand over the well-worn brocade of your robe, Aemond’s words again echoed in your mind.
He was right. It was not flattering. Your father had it made when you were younger, and he had obviously expected you to grow as large and tall as your brothers. But you had not, and the robe still overwhelmed your frame.
Your maids had offered to take it in to make it fit better, but you had denied them. You liked the way you could disappear into it, how it could double as a blanket, the way it streamed behind you as you ran through the halls of your father’s keep.
It was familiar – it was home.
Now Aemond had ruined it, as he had your dreams of a happy marriage.
Reluctantly, you rang the bell for your maids, apologising for the late hour, and asked for another blanket.
But worse than the aching in your bones and the heaviness of your head was the sinking feeling in your stomach when your maids told you that Aemond had sent word asking you to come watch him fight in the training yard.
No reason was given. Why would there be? A man did not need a reason to summon his wife.
You wanted to ignore the request. With Orwyle’s orders that you should rest, you easily could. Yet you could not deny the sinful part of you that remembered how you felt watching him train only days ago.
With his sword in hand, Aemond was a different man. He was graceful and confident – the Prince you imagined when you first heard of your betrothal. The sight of him had lit the smouldering fire of desire within you, shameful as it was.
Despite your prayers, the memory of his seeming indifference, and his more recent insults, you could not deny you wanted to see that man again.
So, you once again donned your warmest cloak – only after confirming with your maids countless times that it was flattering – and headed to the training yard.
Aemond was not in the ring when you arrived but sulking by a table full of weapons. His arms were crossed tightly in front of him, and though he faced the ring, he was not truly focused on the fight. He looked as distant as he did on your wedding night, just before he asked you to get in the bed.
That is until one of the Kingsguard – the Dornish one – pointed to you on the ramparts, and he looked to you.
You braced for another grimace, but it did not come. Were it not for the slight, almost hopeful raise of his brows, you would think him completely indifferent.
He turned back to the weapons table, quickly selecting a longsword and walking to the ring, barking an order that immediately disbanded the current melee. You watched him jump up and down, stretching and shaking his limbs to prepare for his own fight.
The Kingsguard stepped into the ring with him, wielding a large morningstar. The sight of the fearsome weapon sent a shiver of fear through your veins, but you quickly brushed it aside in favour of a small surge of pride.
You had seen Aemond fight. Surely success would come easily.
Though perhaps not.
At the first strike of the Morningstar, Aemond fell to one knee as his shield shattered. You startled, prompting the old Lord to your side to set a hand on your back and whisper his assurances.
“The Prince is a fine warrior,” he said, “a single strike will not fell him.”
But it was not only the one strike.
Over and over, the Kingsguard’s weapon struck, Aemond only barely avoiding it each time.
Once, after Aemond was forced to concede several steps back, the Kingsguard let his offensive stance fall and whispered something. Your husband only growled back at him, loud enough for you to hear from where you watched. Though even in the ferocity of his new advance, he fumbled through his strikes.
This was not the man you watched in the training yard before. However, there were hints of him, sometimes – a graceful swing of the sword, the agile avoidance of an incoming strike, or a strong blocking with his shield (which was replaced several times).
Though those glimpses were few, they were enough to light that fire once more as each one sent that tingling down your spine.
You even considered going down into the yard when the fight was over and asking him to take you back to your chambers.
The idea when quickly squashed when the fight ended badly.
A powerful blow from the morningstar sent Aemond backwards into the dirt. He only barely hung onto his sword. The Kingsguard dropped his weapon and approached the Prince with his hand outstretched.
Aemond did not accept it. Instead, he swatted the knight aside as he stood, driving his sword point-first into the dirt. Then, after whispering something you could not hear but could tell by the fury in his eyes was harsh and likely cruel, he turned and left the training yard.
Without a single glance your way.
-
Aemond did not attend the family meal that evening. He could not bear to face his wife after such a mortifying display.
Seeing her disappointment would break him, he was sure. Though worse was the possibility that she may laugh at him – mock him, as he had unintentionally mocked her.
Gods, he had not fought so poorly since he was a mere boy and had not yet been allowed to wield real steel. Perhaps the next day, Cole would give him his wooden practice sword back. He would deserve it, for both his abysmal performance and his arrogance.
When Lord Wylde suggested he invite her to ‘witness his martial prowess,’ he had let himself fall victim to Aegon’s flattery and his own vanity. And the gods had seen fit to punish him for it.
He would beg their forgiveness later. After he committed another sin. One he had been indulging in far too often of late.
Though his body – already sore from the fight – protested every movement, Aemond removed all his clothes. All the while, he tried not to think about the wrongness of what he was about to do or how much he had embarrassed himself, but about his wife.
How beautiful she had looked on the ramparts. How her hair floated so gracefully in the wind. How the colour of her cloak brought out a delightful sparkle in her eyes. How she had jumped each time Cole landed a blow.
That she cared whether he lived or died should not make his heart flutter as it did, but he would take whatever she would give him, even if it was the barest of affection.
When he was naked and laid himself across his bed, his cock was suitably hard and leaking. Still, he reached for the small phial of oil Aegon gave him when he suggested he ‘practice building his stamina.’
“It is a sin,” Aemond had hissed, horrified by the mere suggestion.
Aegon only shrugged. “So is killing. But we do so in war without fearing the wrath of the gods. Why? Because it is in pursuit of a noble goal. I would say making your wife c… happy and satisfied is a noble goal, wouldn’t you?”
It was an impressive logic – for Aegon. Still, Aemond went to the Sept each morning to ask the gods for forgiveness.
And each night, like now, he practised.
After depositing a droplet of oil into his palm, he took hold of his cock and began to slowly stroke himself.
It was nothing like being in his wife. No matter what he did, he could not replicate that wonderful feeling. So he quickly stopped trying.
Instead, he pumped himself hard and fast, trying to get to the edge of his peak as quickly as he could – and then stopped. He curled his hand into a fist at his side as he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting a few agonising moments before resuming at a slower pace.
The only thing that made that waiting bearable was assuring himself what it would lead to – or what he hoped it would lead to.
He pictured his wife as she had been when he was touching her. How she had come so close to giving herself over to pleasure.
He hoped she would not ask him to stop the next time. Instead, she would let him touch her until she came. She would let him taste her, something he had never considered before Aegon told him of it, but which he now craved like a man lost in the desert craved water. She would beg him to fuck her, to once again brush his cock against that spot inside her, over and over until they both came apart.
And he would gladly obey. He would do anything she asked – if she only would.
Aemond brought himself almost to coming over and over until his stones ached from being denied so long. Only then did he allow himself release, spilling across his stomach with his wife’s name on his lips.
-
The dinner felt unbearably strange without Aemond beside you. No excuses for his absence were given; it was apparently not a subject anyone else was curious about.
So, you ate your food, spoke when you were spoken to, and excused yourself the moment you were done eating.
Though he had never much talked to you at meals, his presence was still somehow missed. You missed the touch of his hand as he helped you into your seat, the low timbre of his voice when he answered a question from his mother or grandsire, and the warmth of his gaze whenever you caught him looking at you.
You missed all those little joys, which you only then realised were indeed joys, so much that you would gladly endure his insults and criticism if it only meant he was there. Besides, you liked how he had gawked in the library when you mocked him in return. That could become a fun little game…
As you left the dining hall, thinking about how he had smiled at you the night before, you found yourself turning not for your own chambers, but for his.
Perhaps he was hurt from his fall, and that was why he was not there. Surely, it was only concern for his health that had you turning this way, nothing more.
But then you took another step forward, and you knew.
You desired him.
The shock and shame of it had you immediately retreating to your own rooms.
You quickly had your maids prepare you for bed, dressing in another silk slip of a nightdress before sending them away and curling beneath your blankets.
Soon, your own heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. The godsdamned crickets had gone silent again, wishing for you to hear every shameful thought you had clearly.
You thought of the strength he had shown in holding off the Kingsguard’s attacks. The strength you had seen in the tautness of his muscles as he hovered over you. As he used those hands that so skillfully wielded a sword to bring you pleasure.
Your legs squeezed together of their own accord at the thought, and you became all too aware of a wetness between your thighs – the wetness he had once coaxed out of you with his gentle touch.
Spreading your legs and trying not to think about the sin of what you were doing, you slowly raised the hem of your nightdress and slid your hand over your folds.
Where Aemond’s fingers were warm, yours were cold. You rubbed your hand over your thigh momentarily, remembering him doing the same thing, before touching yourself again.
This part of you was unfamiliar, and you fumbled around more than Aemond had that first night.
You found your entrance first but shied away from slipping a finger inside. Somehow, that felt too wrong, too much of a sin.
But that was not the only place Aemond had touched that brought you pleasure.
Following the same line his thumb had taken, you searched from that little spot that had sent lightning through you.
It took some time, but you found it.
Though, no matter how fast you moved your finger or how hard you pressed, your own touch did not bring you nearly as much pleasure as Aemond’s had. Finally, after many long minutes, your attempts were causing far more frustration than anything else, and you ripped your hand away from your sex.
You nearly cried when you saw your fingers glistening – with bright red blood.
Your moon’s blood was here.
You were not pregnant.
-
The next morning, you immediately sent for raspberry tea to soothe the aching that had already taken hold in your abdomen and did not get out of bed until it had arrived and you had drunk two cups full.
Then, you wished you had not gotten out of bed at all. There was another note from your husband – he wanted to meet you for a walk in the gardens.
At least it meant he was not hurt. But to face him after what you had done, or tried to do…
A good wife did not do what you did. A good wife would have gone to his chambers and made sure he was well, would have let him take comfort in you.
Gods, you should have done so. You wished so badly that you had done so.
You could not change what you did, but you could be a good wife from this point on – you would be.
So, despite your pains, you dressed and headed for the gardens, where his note said he would be waiting for you all morning.
You spent the entire walk through the castle praying. To the Father for forgiveness for your sin. To the Mother for forgiveness for failing your husband and to beg that his seed quickened the next time. To the Crone for the wisdom to be a good wife – again, as the same prayer had obviously not worked the first time. To the Warrior, for the courage you would need to face Aemond. To the Smith, to repair what had been broken between you. And to the Stranger for whatever you had forgotten to include in your prayers to the others.
Truly, you needed the blessing of each of the Seven.
It was only by clutching the Seven-Pointed Star pendant until your fingers hurt that you did not collapse at the sight of Aemond.
He looked ethereally beautiful in the morning light. The soft sunlight streaming through the few leaves that still remained on the trees set his hair aglow, like he was touched by the gods themselves. Indeed, they must have been tempting your devotion to your promise. Why else would they make him appear so tempting?
You swallowed thickly, grateful you had approached him from the left, so he would not see you gawking. Then, once you had regained your composure, thanks in no small part to a new wave of pain in your belly overwhelming any desire, you stepped forward and curtsied.
“Husband,” you greeted with as much sweetness in your voice as you could muster, “thank you for the invitation to join you today.”
Aemond stood from the bench and bowed back to you, even though protocol did not require it. “Thank you for coming,” he said with a shy smile. “I was worried that… you might not.”
“It would be improper for a wife to deny her husband’s wishes,” you replied.
Dutiful. Polite. A good wife.
But Aemond’s smile fell. “I hope you do not feel you had to come here just because I asked,” he murmured, not meeting your gaze. “I hope that you wanted to come.”
You found yourself almost smiling at him, at the sentiment he offered. Then, nodding, you stepped forward and awkwardly held your hand out for a moment before returning it to your side. “I have not yet had the chance to see the gardens. Will you show me?”
He looked as though you had just offered him a kingdom and held out his arm for you to take.
Despite the heat radiating off him, you shivered as you looped your arm through his, and he began to lead you down the flagstone path.
You walked in silence for a while, but it was not as heavy or uncomfortable as before. There was only the faintest hint of tension between you, the rest replaced by a kind of contentment – unfamiliar but pleasant.
Aemond only spoke to name some of the plants you saw. How he knew exactly which ones you could not identify yourself, you did not know. He just… knew.
You stopped in front of the gnarled trunk of a wisteria vine. It was not in bloom, and most of its leaves had fallen, but it was still beautiful in its bareness.
“It is wisteria,” Aemond said after a moment, pointing with a finger to trace its path from its roots to the very ends of the vine some twenty feet away on a trellis. “At the end of spring, it will produce hanging blooms that are a lovely shade of purple.”
You looked up at him, at his one eye and its lovely shade of purple – the colour of wisteria, you realised.
Before you knew it, you were smiling so wide it hurt your cheeks. “I know,” you replied, your voice almost a laugh. “It is one of my favourites.”
Feeling yourself begin to blush furiously, you turned back toward the plant. “There was one even larger than this right outside my window at my father’s keep.”
Aemond did not – could not – respond. You had just smiled at him, and it was more beautiful than he had ever imagined.
-
You walked through the gardens on Aemond’s arm until you had seen every plant, every flower, every leaf. It was the happiest you had been since arriving in King’s Landing, and indeed in many years before.
But it could not last forever. While you were merely a wife, Aemond was a Prince. He had duties far more important than walking with his wife. So, when he mentioned the hour was growing late, you did not ask him to stay.
You merely removed your arm from his, bowed your head, and whispered your farewell. As a good wife does.
Yet Aemond remained in front of you, the look in his eye so intense you had to turn away.
“May I come to your chambers tonight?” he asked, his voice small but firm.
Your chest tightened.
You wanted to say yes – to kiss him and feel his touch once more. But…
“My moon’s blood arrived today,” you told him quickly before the fear in your gut could still your tongue.
Until he made that request, you had been enjoying the time spent with your husband so dearly that you had nearly forgotten the pain in your belly, the undeniable proof of your failure to produce an heir.
Your failure to be a good wife.
As tears sprang to your eyes, you watched his face twist with confusion, then crumple with despair, and finally, freeze into an expression you could not name.
Once more, he felt like a mystery to you – a stranger. Had you really come to know him so well, to care for him enough that even a single unknown expression could cause you this much pain?
You must have, for the pain in your empty womb was nothing compared to that which now took hold of your heart.
He looked to the flagstones below you, his mouth starting and failing to find words. “I…” he began, then stopped.
“Aemond?” you asked, desperate now for him to say anything, even if it was to call you stupid again.
Your mind was so clouded by fear at what he may say next that you did not realise it was the first time you had called him by his name since the wedding ceremony.
His eye met yours again, and he raised his brows. “Thank you for the walk.”
And then he left. Again.
To your credit, you did not cry until you were back in your rooms.
-
You did not go to dinner that night or even eat the meal that was brought to your rooms.
You only prayed and cried and prayed some more. Until you fell asleep on the couch in your sitting room.
After waking in the dark at some point in the night, with a blanket over your shoulders. You knew you should move to the bed, or you would be sore in the morning. But whatever you did, you would be sore for at least a few more days. So, you stayed on the couch.
For a while, you watched the door, hoping that Aemond would walk through and throw himself at your feet as he begged your forgiveness. And despite your better judgment, you would give it to him without hesitation.
But he did not come.
Eventually, you fell asleep again.
When you woke once more, you were indeed sore. But it was quickly forgotten when you saw something unfamiliar on the table before you – a leather-bound journal and a folded note with your name written on it in beautiful script.
Curious but cautious, you only grabbed the note before settling back into your seat to read it:
My dearest wife,
Forgive me for not coming to you myself to apologise, but given the way I acted the last time I did so, I believe you will prefer this.
I am so very sorry that my behaviour towards you has been utterly abhorrent. Please know that my stumbling words and foolish actions come not from a place of malice or even indifference. Rather, they are an attempt by a stupid and incompetent man to try and impress his wife.
There is nothing in the world that I desire so much as to see you happy. Nothing I wish for more than to see your smile and, if the gods bless me, to be the reason for it.
For my love, when you smiled at me yesterday – I have never felt anything so wonderful.
But as the past weeks have shown, I fear I am incapable of presenting myself with dignity when I am in your presence. Your beauty, kindness, and pure goodness overwhelm me the moment I see you, and all my good sense abandons me. No matter my intentions, nor the poetry I compose in my mind prior to coming to you, the very moment I am with you, I become little more than a bumbling idiot, unable to even say ‘hello’ without somehow offending or upsetting you.
So, I will no longer try. I know I have caused you much more discomfort than anything, and it pains me beyond measure. Already, I have begged the Seven for their forgiveness, and now I beg yours.
If you do not wish to give it, I will understand. I will accept whatever you decide and act accordingly. If you wish to not see me again, I will disappear. But I would be doing you a disservice as your husband if I did not at least share with you the depth of my feelings before we are parted – if that is indeed what you desire, though I hope it is not.
I am all too aware that if I tried to do this myself, I would say some ridiculous thing to make you hate me forever. That is, I admit, my greatest fear. So, I have asked the servants to deliver you this note, along with my diary. I know you keep your own, for I have seen it in your chambers. Therefore, you know that what you will read is not merely words, but the truths of my very soul.
Please know that I am not afraid to share it with you. As my wife, you are entitled to know everything about me. But more than that, I want you to. I want you to see all that I am, to know me as well as the gods themselves. I pray that what you will learn will not frighten or upset you but show you the man I so wish to be. The man I would be, if you allow me.
I pray you will like him, perhaps even learn to love him. For he loves you so very, very much.
I have marked the passages I most want you to read, but you have my permission to read everything. I will not hide anything from you, not anymore.
With all my love, more than you know,
Your husband, Prince Aemond Targaryen
As you lowered the note, now stained with several of your tears, you looked at the journal – the diary – on the table. It contained the truth of your husband, the man who had confused and angered you, delighted and amazed you.
It was a truth that, once you knew it, would change you forever.
But you had already been changed, hadn’t you? Irrevocably. The only thing the diary would change was whether it was for the better or for the worse.
So, after one last prayer, you set Aemond’s note back on the table, picked up the diary, and began to read.
-
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until i opened my eyes ( nishimura riki )
femreader angst hurt/no comfort & toxic!situationship!riki — why has it taken so long to realize how awful he is?
cw riki is toxic and mean, bittersweet ending imo, no part two ㅤ& 1.4k words
note @nishions hi sorry. anyways this is probs the longest thing ive written in months ☺️ like and subscribe (reblog) please
you always thought that you had a bit more respect for yourself before you got together with riki. maybe it was your fault; you’d never set explicit boundaries or gotten mad at him for anything that he’s done, instead brushing it off as him not being fully ready for a relationship yet.
and that was okay with you, you could understand why he didn’t want to date you. you were content with the small affections he would give you when you were alone, simply ignoring every red flag, no matter how bright they were.
you let him treat you poorly simply because you’ve liked the boy for almost as long as you’ve known him. it was easy to forget about him pretending to not know you in public when he would bring you your favorite foods on days when you were stressed. it was too easy to forget about him only messaging you at atrocious hours of the night when he would watch your favorite shows just so you could talk about it together for hours.
you were fine until you found yourself upset more often than not. all because of him and his actions towards you, it was embarrassing to say the least. the one friend you had told about riki was iroha, and she despised him (with good reason), she was always urging you to get out of this relationship, but you didn’t listen.
eventually, though, you stopped enjoying the limited time that you actually spent together because it somehow always ended up in an argument, him storming out and you ending up alone like you always were when it came to being with him.
“you can’t seriously be mad at me right now. you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” he scoffs, running a hand through his messy hair.
you're used to this. you're always the dramatic one, everything you do is wrong. he's never wrong and if you so much as imply that he is then you're the bad guy. you're just disregarding his feelings and being an awful person.
“i just – i don’t understand why you would do that. it’s like you’re actively trying to ruin my relationships with people,” you’re sitting on your couch as you watch riki pacing in front of you. he stops when you speak, furrowing his eyebrows as he turns his head to look at you.
you can feel a pit form in your stomach.
“i didn’t know you were in a ‘relationship’ with him,”
“it's not like that, he’s just my friend, ki,”
he hums, nodding his head, “uh huh,” he stares you down. it feels uncomfortable, it’s like he’s trying to think of the worst thing he could possibly say to you, “you don’t treat him like a friend. you’re around him all the time, god. you’re, like, almost as clingy with him as you are with me. it’s weird,”
you resist the urge to scoff, knowing that he’ll only use it against you — “wow, so i can’t say what i feel now? you’re just gonna be a bitch about it?” — like he always does.
you guess you’re silent for too long because he mumbles something under his breath, you aren’t sure what, and he speaks to you once again, “yn, seriously. what’s your fucking problem?”
“what’s your problem? you’ve been really mean to me lately,”
“whatever, dude. if i’m so mean then i’ll just leave,”
you don’t bother trying to stop him as he grabs his stuff angrily. he slips his shoes on and his hoodie that was sitting next to you before he took it. you watch him intently, taking note of the crease between his eyebrows and his darkened eyes. you know what he looks like when he’s mad and this isn’t it, you don’t know what he’s feeling right now.
in all honestly, you don’t know anything about him. this whole thing was superficial; you like him but he doesn’t like you. he only likes the attention you give him, the way that you’ll drop everything just for the chance to be in his presence. it boosts his ego and it hurts yours.
iroha told you, she warned you multiple times that the longer you stayed with him the worse it was going to get, but you crave his attention. no matter how hard you tried to stop, you just couldn’t do it. not when he would text you saying that he missed your voice, that he missed hanging out with you.
maybe there’s something wrong with you. realistically, you know that there isn’t, that this isn’t totally your fault, but it truly felt like it was. why doesn’t he like you the way that you like him? what is so wrong with you that he can’t like you back? he used to compliment you all the time in the beginning, he told you everything a girl wants to hear from the boy she likes, but eventually he stopped. maybe it’s because he realized that he already had you hooked, he didn’t need to put in all that ‘extra’ work.
it’s only been seven months since you and him started whatever this is, and it’s been three months of you feeling the most unwanted you’ve ever felt in your life. you can’t believe it’s taken ninety days for you to realize that maybe it isn’t worth it. it never was.
“text me when you fix your shit, alright?” you’re broken out of your thoughts when you hear his voice again. you focus on his figure, staring at him. he wasn’t worth all of this pain, as dramatic as that sounds. you could easily find somebody else, somebody who actually cared about you.
“i don’t want to text you. i don’t want to do this with you anymore,”
you can tell your words surprise him. his eyes widen briefly and you can see him flinch slightly, as if the mere thought of you breaking it off is hurting him. sure, you’ve tried ending things before but this is the first time you’ve sounded so sure of it. this time you really weren’t going to text him, you weren’t going to call him, and you weren’t going to beg for his attention.
“seriously?” his voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it and it almost makes you change your mind, but you don’t.
“yeah,”
he walks back towards you, cautiously, like he’s afraid you’re going to do something to him if he gets too close. once he sees that you aren’t going to hit and scream at him, he kneels down in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs.
“baby, this isn’t even a big fight, what do you mean? are you for real dumping me?”
you laugh bitterly, pushing his hands off of you, “i can’t dump you if we weren’t ever dating, riki,”
“you know what i mean, yn,” you can hear the annoyance creeping into his voice, the sweet and vulnerable tone from earlier disappearing as quickly as it came. this solidified everything for you; no matter how nice he pretends to be, he will never treat you right. his mood changes every time your mouth opens, every time you try arguing your side. he isn’t healthy for you.
“just leave already. i don’t want to do this, i’m serious,” you push him back gently, making enough room for you to stand and walk over to the door, pulling it open, “please, just go. you never had a problem with it before,”
he stares at you for a brief moment, not even having the decency to make eye contact with you as he says, “you’re being fucking dramatic, but fine. don’t text me when you realize you fucked up,” riki stands, finally leaving. he bumps his shoulder against yours when he exits, pulling the door out of your grasp just so he can slam it shut.
you blink, scrunching your nose up at his display of pure immaturity. despite that ending though, you can practically feel all of the tension leaving your body. you feel like you can finally breath again. you’re glad you finally opened your eyes, that you got out of the lovesick haze he had you trapped in for so long.
#ㅤ⠀ ૮꒰ ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა ♡ ㅤ⠀#riki x reader#niki x reader#ni ki x reader#nishimura riki x reader#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#riki scenarios#riki x you#riki x y/n#niki x you#niki x y/n#riki imagines#riki angst#enha x you#enhypen scenarios#enha angst#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enhypen angst
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✷ txt when they see a pregnant belly !
ﾉ txt! x fem!reader... WARNING — there's one fuck and shit ton of weird train of thoughts . ⋆〞WORD COUNT: three hundred and eighty four........ ME? i don't take any responsibility for what ive written and YOU will find me writing something that completely contradicts in the future so don't be shocked. it's just for fun. also fun fact (?!) ive only seen one pregnant belly in my entire lifetime.
yeonjun…
takes a double look.
and again.
but not like in a creepy way
it's more like wow the wonderful miracles of life.
probably gets a stink eye from the pregnant lady because was unknowingly side-eyeing them.
suddenly gets a surge of baby fever.
probably closes his eyes as few stray tears slip out as he promises to himself to become the best father in this world.
and then he gets into a conflict with himself because what if his life partner does not want a child.
would that be a deal breaker for him?
or would he be able to compromise?
gives himself a concussion at the hypothetical discussion despite being single as fuck.
soobin…
doesn't really care much.
beomgyu…
starts thinking about what the couple may have done for her to end up pregnant.
tries to be discreet but kind of starts giggling.
because he's still mentally eleven years old of course.
may or may not have cops called on him because he kind of zoned out and was staring at the pregnant woman with a sinister grin on his lips.
gets dragged away by the cops at the end anyway and yeonjun has to bail him out.
taehyun…
doesn't try to acknowledge the pregnant lady.
it's more like when creditors are trying to get your attention to ask for the money you borrowed.
instead he is the one who gets approached.
i guess there's something about him that screams being an expert at natal care.
actually gets along with the to-be mother and sings to the belly.
gets called to be with the family when she goes into labour.
and actually shows up.
because a real man never breaks promises.
huening kai…
does not make eye contact.
at all cost.
if taehyun was like, avoiding money lenders.
his one is more like avoiding the evil spirit trying to take over his body.
idk there's something about a real tiny living human squirming inside another living person walking around like it's just another normal thing scares the shit out of him.
might run for the hills if he gets approached by them.
apparently he once saw his little sister kick his mother's belly from inside and he has not been the same since about the pregnancy deal.
he respects the community tho.
©ITGIRLGYU 2023! — feedbacks are always appreciated!!!!
ﾉ PERM TAGLIST — @impureperhaps @full-sunnies
#txt ot5#txt ot5 reactions#txt reactions#txt headcanons#txt ot5 headcanons#txt funny#txt imagines#txt scenarios#txt fluff#txt crack#soobin reactions#yeonjun reactions#beomgyu reactions#taehyun reactions#huening kai reactions#soobin fluff#yeonjun fluff#beomgyu fluff#taehyun fluff#huening kai fluff#txt x reader#soobin imagines#yeonjun imagines#beomgyu imagines#taehyun imagines#huening kai imagines#tomorrow x together imagines#tomorrow x together crack#tomorrow x together reactions
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wow so in the championships of fucked up batshit posts written by rhi✨, i do think this takes the title but i am really concerned that this might be the case... so,, hear me out
s2 = possibly clue? like, for real???? like alternative EP1 ENDINGS/SCENES???
so laure @theeminentlyimpractical and i had basically noticed at the same time that crowley's sideburns drastically change clip to clip, promo to promo, throughout the stuff we have of s2 so far, and this led us to have the, i guess, fairly insignificant theory that there is a falling out and a timeskip. now obvs this theory is quite old, very much in its infancy, and probably very inaccurate, but like 2500 people have at least seen it and we have reputations to maintain so we looked into it further
now pretty much ALL content released to us is either ep1 or ep2, or minisodes, or maybe the odd photo (e.g. i think the aziraphale/clipboard one is firmly ep5). but most stuff we have tbh can almost be chronologically traced and plotted. well - all except this:
the scene where crowley finds out about the naked man friend? short sideburns:
in the shop, finding out that it's gabriel?
long sideburns.
(not to mention that crowley's glasses change between ep1 and ep2 somewhere but that's a different story)
now i know that this could be an error with make up, or additional photography etc blah blah blah but one appears to be forgetting that this is amazon, and id put my money on every single person on that set wanting s2 to be nothing short of loophole free, continuity error-less perfection *😘👌*
so my Occam's razor is there is something we are missing between these two scenes in particular, or one of the scenes is not as it seems. from what we have worked out (and save this post because ill hopefully link in a sideburn timeline once laure and i have got our shit together and are operating on the same timezone again) most of ep1 and ep2 plot seems to feature crowley with short sideburns and predominantly the silver (not grey) sunglasses
whilst we have spotted a couple of confusing possible exceptions to this (example is below), it feels like overall that's basically right. bearing in mind that stuff that might say it's an official promo from e.g. ep4 may actually refer to events in ep2 --- there is nothing to say that the story has to be told in chronological, linear order!!!
so yeah overall; everything with crowley, present day, for ep1/2 is shortburns. now an interesting tidbit ive found from accounts of the nycc screening (and speaking to lovely people who gave me more info, not sure if they want to be named!!!) is that the screening
did not show an ending for episode 1.
that it basically ran straight through to the job minisode cold open, and then into the ep2 opening credits. for clarification, there was no ending credit for ep1, and apparently nothing to show that there was an end (e.g. no big gutsy 'well then... welcome to the end times' scene) ***and this is where i need input from sdcc people!!!
so apparently (and this may need further input), the last scene that took place before the job minisode is crowley returning to help with the miracle on gabriel to hide him... now im not sure if this is the same scene as the "I'm back"/apology dance scene (which btw we think is a shortburn/silver glasses scene, which is even weirder) but if someone could let me know that would be great ✨EDIT: CONFIRMED✨
👀 at sdcc viewers that only saw ep1 - WHERE DID IT END???
so in summary: the first sideburn loophole we have is the "ah gabriel!!" scene. obvs people have seen it so it's not a flashback, but i think potentially there will be additional scenes added to ep1 + an official ending upon the full release... or potentially scenes are replaced altogether to prevent spoilers from the screening? hmmm
does this remind anyone of clue lmaooooo wink wink
second, this is also an issue: so the first screenshot im pretty sure is late ep2 after aziraphale is talking to a rug salesman...? but features les longburns and possibly grey glasses:
but then this ep3 interaction with muriel? them burns are definitely short, which could obvs mean it is posed as a flashback, but those are DEFINITELY crowley's new grey glasses?
so yeah I'll be honest I'm not sure how far ill swing with this but ill keep updating with more info and link to the timeline etc etc, but yeah i think someone might have been writing a love letter to clue rather than writing s2 hahaha✨✨✨
but all nycc screening viewers pls come scream at me about this!!! and sdcc please tell us where ep1 ended??????
#good omens#good omens season 2#good omens spoilers#good omens 2 spoilers#good omens speculation#not a shitpost but its good omens babyyyy
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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers 💫
thank you @decaflondonfog for the tag !! ill tag @sillyunicorn @starwarned @urban-sith @tea-brigade
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
98!! (woah) plus an unrevealed t&n fest fic, so 99. wow i need to do something rly crazy for 100 lol. what if i do a ridiculous crossover of all my fandoms and everyone in the fandom tags will hate me.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
544,914. (again. woagh)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
mostly all for the game and simon snow series, have dabbled in & posted even less for check please, captain america, and one direction! i feel like i’m missing something but regardless my fixations are hardcore, so all except like 4k of that posted wc is for either aftg or ss hahahha
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
all are andreil! boyfriend privileges (4k, T) / Trigger (62k, E) / flashes of intimacy (10k, t) / Would you still love me if I was a worm? (6k, T) / Inside Thoughts (1k,T)
man this is long, rest is going under the cut lol
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
not very often, but i wish i did. i am stricken with a combination of being really awkward when people are nice to me & being bad at interacting with anyone in ways i fear could be perceived as ingenuine. im not sure if that makes sense LMAO. and sometimes when i put a story out, i kind of feel like i’ve said my piece — i’ve put so much into it that i don’t really know what else to say!
anyway, i always reply to questions, because that’s got clear social boundaries hahaha, and i DO love talking abt my stories!! and sometimes i’ll reply to comments that really get me thinking. but yeah, i know i reply less than i could, and i want to like double down on the fact that i am endlessly grateful for everyone who has ever left a comment on my work <3
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
i have killed simon snow twice lmfao. i’d actually classify icarus as rather hopeful — it’s about grief & healing. but legacies is just fucked up lmfao
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
oh man, i write a lot of happy endings haha. i feel like even when my story is tonally darker (rare), it still has a happy or at least hopeful ending. this is probably not the correct answer, but i think sing of the moon has a really vividly happy ending. like — the sun rises for the first time in the whole fic! amazing. or maybe my high school au, We Can Live Forever, which is just the happiest thing i’ve ever written.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
not really, thankfully! people are smartasses sometimes but overall ive been lucky. there have been a couple of fics where ive winced before hitting post, but it usually ends up fine
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
yessss. i guess i mostly write tender smut, bc i write tender things in general. i think my smut tends to be rather exploratory/playful as well? intentionally sloppy and awkward choreography hahaha
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
sort of LOL. once upon a time i was betaing @tea-brigade's medieval snowbaz au, Reliquary of an Arsonist, and there’s this part where three highway bandits mug simon and baz and then get blasted by simon’s chosen one magic. i am sick in the head so im in the google doc like “lol what if its kandreil.” and then i was like… what if it was kandreil….. and so i wrote Reliquary of a Bandit
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
i don’t think so
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
yes!!! and i’m really thankful for everyone who has done so <3333 shoutout to russian aftg translators, yall go HARD
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
i recently collaborated with @thewholelemon on our episode of Star Trek: Redemption, Heart-Shaped Box. by which i mean: i wrote the outline & a few scenes, got really overwhelmed, and jenny turned it into something worth reading!
i also wrote Good Boy in the snowbaz stoner verse with @starwarned, which was rly fun — we sat in the google doc for like, 5 hours trading back and forth on POVs as we wrote pure porn together LOL. it’s funny to think about this, because lauren knows like everything abt me now but we did not know each other as well back then!!! and we were just like “yeah lets write porn together” hahahahha
14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?
right now it is deeefinitely andreil… they are everything to me for reasons i just cannot possibly be brief about LOL so ill just leave it at that
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
i have a postcanon snowbaz time travel/time loop wip that i was going to try to write for COBB this year but i fucked up the deadlines then the brainrot was like “guess that means more andreil !”. i did SO MUCH research for it and i think it’s rather clever and smutty and fun bc they are yeeted back to watford era! but it’s also dealing with snowbaz, who are in their late 20s and are like in a relationship low point/actively fighting when they end up in the loop… so they are dealing with that tension at the same time as they are trying to get out of the loop. and also fucking around watford to fulfill fantasies HAHAHA
16. What are your writing strengths?
characterization is the thing i care most about! and i think that’s the draw of fanfic in particular to me — i love getting such a grasp on a character that i can translate them into endless situations while still making them feel true to self. i rarely let myself publish anything until i can read through the whole thing without any he would not fucking say that moments hahahha. this is of course pertaining to my own interpretations of the characters, which is the only thing i care abt lmfao
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
i rely a lot on body language because im always writing abt reticent fuckers who cant use their words. but i think i sometimes overcompensate, or describe actions that don't actually fit the scene. i've seen this described as "cheek-biting" -- like, throwing in action during a conversation just to delay the pacing/further the tone, but when you really look at it, it's not necessary. (cheek-biting being like, "character bites at their cheek" in the middle of a tense conversation)
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
i don’t really know any other languages! i think i’ve put a little bit of french in neil/kevin/baz POVs before, but my french knowledge is elementary at best. love the idea of it though.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
one direction babyyyyyyyy !! i wrote quite a bit of it in like 2012-2015 but published very little. there’s 1 on my ao3, some lost somewhere on fanfiction.net (i dont rmr my username lol), and tons in my folders from my old laptop lol.
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
hmmmmm. im gonna cheat bc i cant pick a single favorite. i always say i think No Turning Back is some of my best writing from a craft standpoint, and it also includes my favorite type of conflict (andrew self-destructing lol). however, i reread both that fic & We Can Live Forever on a plane trip recently after not having touched either for 6+ months — and the solidness of We Can Live Forever actually surprised me, especially because i wrote the majority of that fic while i was stoned and also view it as just exceedingly silly. the world of it is just very rich, and also very very different from the typical character backstories, and i’m very proud of how much that reread played with my heartstrings.
ok last one — there are several installments of my flashes of intimacy series that i come back to a lot, because i’m proud of what they each accomplish in 500 words. especially because i often turn to those when im trying to express my own emotions lol. specifically, my favorites are picking fights, i don’t mind, swimming lessons, and practicing gratitude.
that was such a bullshit and cocky way to answer this lmfaooooo. but tbh i am my own biggest fan and that is by design — i write stuff so that i can reread it months later and have it be perfectly catered to my tastes. i love all my fics <3
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PART IV of my super long aotd thoughts (and prayers) commentary/analysis extravanganza🤪
warning: spoilers. repetition of words/expressions hehe. badly written (english is not my first language lol). looong text. curse words. biased opinions because this is my blog and i get to do with it as i please.
previously: part I | part II | part III
this is the last part!!!
smacking fiesta!: they made a fire for Murderface awww my fucking HEART. i love that this movie insists on making a point that people should take responsibility but not victimize themselves. case in point: yes Nathan fucked up when he wrote the wrong song (tho again, that was actually part of the prophecy) because he decided to surrender to hatred, sadness and overall give up on his responsibilities. it’s great to see him take the blame(?) however yeah, Pickles did good at reminding him that this is no time for him to drown in self-pity and doubt himself. making a mistake is NOT equal to being an incapable person. Nathan should not doubt his own skills, quite the opposite, this is the time for him to believe in himself, trust his bandmates and push forward. also yes after season 4 and a portion of this movie, i admit it’s cool to see Pickles taking out his stress on Nathan lmao. on the other hand WOW??? why does Nathan Explosion fall from a slap, that must’ve a hell of a smack. the little “quit hitting me :(“ was cute aksjdhas. Murderface feeling better and thanking the guys is so precios he’s so baby in this scene. and i love that this is actually not the first time Skwistokface have felt weird when Pickles and Nathan fight like a married couple (throwback to Writersklok) and that’s so CUTE. he says “should we get going?” to the guitarists while Pickles does a shock therapy on Nathan or something and ugh they’re such a family. i again absolutely love that Magnus is in the notebook. it means so much to me that Nathan straight up says he’d want for Magnus to come back, somehow, so they could fix their friendship. it makes the suicide so much more tragic and it made me very sad but that makes the message much more powerful. forgiving and apologizing, taking responsability and knowing your own worth are central to the message of the movie and i really really like it. someone pointed out thath “i’m just a gear in the wheel of the clock” is the very first line of mtl and i’m happy Brendon brought it back to close this story. and for fans like me, that spent over a decade loving this show is beautiful to hear this once again while Nathan Explosion himself discovers the true meaning of it.
mommy on the wheel: ok yeah i love Pickles bla bla bla i think he’s very very cool in this scene. Pickles is my favorite, Rehabklok and Skyhunter are one of my favorite episodes/songs so seeing him drive again WHILE SOBER is so so important to me you don’t even know. and yes the line “Toki be a good boy and bring mommy his scotch” rearranged the chemicals in my brain tysm Brendon Small, i’m officially insane.
plugging-in: YES EDGAR JOMFRU SWEEP!!! i’m sooo happy he’s back and is central to this section of the movie. he’s a very important character so i’m happy we get to see him interact with Dethklok in such a cool sequence and i’m also thankful that he threw a sandwich to Crozier. it was deserved. the plug-in sequence is very cool visually AND thematically, seeing the guys fly and be at the center of such a complicated operation is cool, i’m a fan. we also get more exposition, i LOVE that only here the guys Finally remember the dethlights and start to comprehend their place in the prophecy. i’d love more of this (dethklok realizing the true reach of their powers) because it’s a very short scene, but well, you can’t have it all. when Nathan slips and falls off the wing(?) and Pickles screams “Oh no, Nathan!” yeah, Nickles wins once again. usually i’m not a fan of scenes where the characters start giving a speech in the middle of an action scene but it’s cool here. for all we know Nathan must be constantly thinking he will die at any time so it’s valid for him to want to get sincere and cheesy. also yes it’s so so important for me (and for Pickles) when Nathan finally confesses to have never had anything with Abigail. i like that he was honest and vulnerable not because of himself but because the others deserved to know. he also recognizes it wouldn’t have been right and that’s some good shit. the entire message to Abigail, “wherever you are in this world (…)” was so heartwarming. i do think Nathan and Abigail could have been a great couple (especifically after Nathan’s character development, not before) and this line is the basis of that. he realizes that showing appreciation is not limited to fucking someone and then jump to a relationship. he respects her and that will stay that way even if they never connect on a romantic level, and i adore that. on a personal note: as an aro, this scene made me cry. Nathan recognizing how much someone can mean to you and at the same time letting them go/not ending up with them is a message i can connect with to a personal level. wanting them to be happy as you are ready to part ways and focus on yourself (when Nathan says “i’ll grow stronger”) is a beautiful message. AND (yes sorry this section is practically me projectiong and making everything personal) THE LINE “because i’ll always have my relationship with music” IS ALSO SO IMPORTANT TO MEEE. i too sometimes feel like i can connect more with music than with people and to hear Nathan Explosion say that made me feel so validated, so accompanied.
gay elevator: EVERYONE say thank you Edgar for bringing back Toki’s teddy bear. say it or else. if your homie grabs your shoulder, looks into your eyes and calls you mommy, that’s a flirting i’m sorry i don’t make the rules. and i don’t care what anyone says “i’ll see you on stage” is code for “i love you so so much” case CLOSED. “this one’s for Knubbler” HELL YEAH IT IS !!! wasted opportunity to give them the armor in this scene oh well. wasted opportunity to have Toki speak in norwegian here or something since they are in Norway but ok. SOS being both a distress signal to the fans and an acronym for Song Of Salvation is GENIUS. Crozier+Edgar was not in my bingo cards but oh boy i am so happy to see it.
fuck you and your beard old man: Nathan Explosion is the man of my dreams. he’s so fearless and so smart and so so beautiful i will kill a god for him i don’t care. also yeah fuck you Salacia don’t talk to him like that. Toki a kombucha is not a meal please ajsdhkajshd. Pickles ordering for Nathan is so CUTE !!! those are soulmates right there UGHHH. and Pickles looking at him so fondly while Nathan ponders the idea of marrying his drummer right then and there??? wow THAT’S just…wow. i keep winning. when Nathan tells them “i think we’re going to die” and their reactions it was both hilarious and sad. they really are just some: dudes. they’ve faced dead before but here they are, freaking out in a jail cell together. i love them so much FUCK. missed opportunity for another band hug. dethklok in handcuffs walking in the snow is a great visual hear me out. also dethklok crucified in a spinning death-disk is such an amazing concept too. Nathan repeating The Gears to himself is so IMPORTANT TO MEEE. watch me doing the same everytime i have to face an important decision/task. the people with the masks look hella cool too. Nathan has the biggest brain ever! and he’s so so brave and strong i LOVE HIM !!! i love how he sacrificed himself mirroring the countless klokateers’ deaths throughout the show: ready to serve a bigger purpose. Pickles touching his face and turning to see the guys with a worried look is UGH. Edgar Jomfru will be missed, he was such a badass and he singlehandedly did so much for dethklok and humanity. Skwisgaar putting his hand on a distressed Toki saved my life yup yup.
Salacia is a dorito: fuckkk stop killing the fans dude. THE DETHLIGHTS!!! now that’s an epic meet and greet with your favorite band. GO INTO THE WATER SONG OF THE CENTURYYY and my favorite song to listen at the beach. the WHALE IS BACKKK!!! i’m so happy with that ending, the fact that dethklok, as powerful as they are, were NOT gods after all and were only there to help the whale is a concept i’ll never get over. so so so damn cool. we get to see how fucked up it is for the boys when the powers leave them and it’s so uncool and unglamorous i can help but love it!!! Skwisgaar my man i love him so much he really has been in Toki’s arms for ¾ of this movie he’s living the dream. and yesss that teddy bear is stronger than Salacia, we love an immortal legend. the ending sequence is cute. is short and very cheesy but i love it. it’s a love letter for the fans in universe and irl. i am so so happy. WE are the army of the doomstar. i love that when Nathan starts speaking with his heart he CAN’T STOP. he’s so sweet i love him. and CHARLES LOOKS SO GOOD IN THAT LAST SHOT I WANT TO LOOK AFTER HIM AND CURE HIS WOUNDS AND KISS HIS FOREHEAD. and yup the movie is over and i’m hyperventilating and shakingand crying.
I love this movie so much it makes me look insane. but yeah. this is the end of my super long aotd extravaganza. thank you so so much for reading to the very end. sorry this took so long. kisses on the forehead for everyone who saw this movie and enjoyed it as much as i did. take care and have a great day. bye bye!
#long text sorry!#clade's aotd thoughts and prayers#clade talks#army of the doomstar#metalocalypse#aotd spoilers#army of the doomstar spoilers
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Could I please have 7, 9, 16, 24 and 27 for the fic writer ask? 💙
HFDUAIGHRQHG WOW THATS SO MANY thank you aria!!!!
as always... kura talk lots.... read more time!
7. your preferred writing fonts
For the longest time it was Arial, then basically from Covid lockdowns to maybe about a year ago I was a Comic Sans truther. But recently I've been using Optima and Trebuchet! There is something very delightfully round about them... they are soft like bunnies.... Bonus points, they're a bit of larger, thicker fonts, which makes is much easier for me to read. I have no idea if I'm dyslexic because I've never been tested but reading--while fun and one of my favorite pass-times--is like. So hard. And it feels like the longer I've been out of Lit classes the harder and harder reading gets. :') I've got a mountain of fics and books I'd like to read but it takes a lot of energy to keep track of what line im on that i gotta save it all up for writing... ive had city of dogs open in a tab for like months now bro i just wanna read.... TAT
But yeah I love me them thicker rounder weighted sort of fonts.
9. start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?
so the last finished one-shot i posted was Who We Don't Expect to See, which took probably about six months to a year wrestling to get the dialogue to behave. The last complete multi-chapter fic was the Baristsa on Autumnal Avenue, which took about nine months!
As for unfinished works, I'm expecting Maelstrom to probably take another year , maybe year and a half at this pace! Ideally, I'd love to have it done by December which would mean a year and two months total, but we'll have to see thinking emoji
16. favorite place to write
I'm usually either at my desk in my office or on my couch lol and that's just a question of whether I feel more like writing on my desktop or my laptop! But since I started back at my local community college, I've found INSANE productivity at the campus cafe!! I don't know what it is, but as soon as my ass is sitting at the table with a coffee I'm like fucking sonic the hedgehog the way I start pumping chapters out. Probably about 80% of Maelstrom fic's been written in that little cafe!!
24. how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?
banging my head against the wall until im creative again :( or until i knock myself out, whichever comes first
actually lol I spend a lot of my recharge time watching youtube or playing video games. I'm big into Splatoon and Phasmophobia! I used to be really into Fall Guys until Epic bought the game out. but mostly it's just youtube these days lolll cause once im out of creative juice thats like. it. my energy's gone and i tend to spiral, so I'll end up just snuggling my kitty and watching gamegrumps or something (i dont know why, he just really likes watching game grumps)
>:( we used to watch a lot of netflix together too but since they cracked down on account sharing and my parents managed the family account we can only get in on the desktop now... how are we supposed to snuggle like this!!! cozy kitty economy is in shambles smdh
27. your favorite part of the writing process
answered over here winky kissy face emoji
#i wish i could emoji on desktop#please settle for my descriptive emoji text#kurasays#ask game#isleofair#ty friend!!
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tired but i'll do a bit of this (will be a bit rambly:D)
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
24,, wow not bad
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
165.5k wow thats a lot,, most of it comes from one tho; everything else are shortfics
3. What fandoms do you write for?
DSMP and ive just started a bit of genshin at the behest of my Tartaglia-obsessed irl and he's kinda cool but like for 95% of my other fics its all cdream ahahahhh(dies)
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
"Consequences" tops the charts obviously bc its my one and only longfic and it was written during the peak of dsmp and man id link it bc i love my storyline (cdream obviously gets messed up in prison but then gets a healing arc) there but at the same time i feel like the writing had too many grammar mistakes and could be better so nahh
"North Star to Freedom" is one im actually really proud of, like obviously the writing could be better bc ive improved, but i just like it and id deffo rewrite it too if i had time or steal it into an original fic (premise is that cdream escapes prison with the rebibe book and oh lord my lingo anyways (spoilers) he dies and he gives techno book)
"Persevere" is third, wow that's a long time ago, its alright, i like it in general, but it feels almost cheesy. idk. i like it, but i dont like it. its not mixed feelings, but eh. anyways, something about cdream getting captured by the egg which is about to take over the world but he sacrifices himself to cleanse it. the most acute thing i rember about it is that its a 3parter
"Coup de Grace" ok wth i didnt expect this to be on there it was a small little cdream suffering in prison and cphil comes over, sees him in pain, and cough relieves him of it, and i dont like the writing in a specific part of it, but i like it in some other parts, so eh
"turn the claret tides" whoops i forgot what this one was about ok i glanced through the doc its ctechno getting cdream out of prison wow that title was really vague but he gets the letter and things went on.. it was inspired by another fic and happened during the hype of the prison arc which is kinda cool
(man im looking at the amount of fics i want to rewrite but it aint happening sadge)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Sometimes, most of the times nowadays, if it particularly made my day or it has something deep and insightful or literally makes any observation on my fic. sometimes im just too tired to answer,, maybe laziness is a part of it too, but i stare and its like,, i cant generate a response . but nowadays, i do it most of the times bc i appreciate my commenters :D
6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
my recent fics mostly have happy endings, but all my pre-like, mid 2023 fics were all sad sad sad. they all ended in cdream dying, one way or the other. so idk which ones the saddest now its been too long,, the one i personally think is the saddest is one that i like, was listening to sad music to, the song being 'sociopath,' an orchestral piece (or was it piano?)
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
consequences
8. Do you get hate on your fic?
once on consequences bc that was max cdream apologists vs inniters era
9. Do you write smut?
nop never ever ever
10. Do you write crossovers?
dream + tartaglia is one i wrote in fudging october that i am still trying to find time to continue
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
prob not, if there is, then i wouldnt know of it
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
nope, if there was, i also dont know of it
13. Have you ever co-written a fic?
wow thats crazy that i havent, but idk, teamwork and coordination just go meh when i only share my interests with online people
14. What‘s your all-time favorite ship?
idk i dont do ships but my fav friendship is dream + techno or dream + punz
15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
all my chapter continuations except the tartaglia + dream one i Need to finish that. but also the palace of stone idea will Never Ever get written
16. What’s your writing strengths?
descriptions idk they go lengthy but ive practiced with them a lot so ive gotten kinda good
17. What’s your writing weaknesses?
dialogue, pacing, idk literally everything, i can prob improve on anything and every aspect of my writing rn, and i just need to practice more
19. First fandom you wrote for?
DSMP lmao
20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?
consequences i love the storyline + ending of that one even if the writing couldve been better
uhh tagging? idk if theres anyone that doesnt overlap wiht people whove been tagged b4 les see: @milktearosethorn , @victoriacoffee , ,, oh theres only two ok well, have fun if u decide to do this!
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Thinking about Stanley and the narrator and... yeah. It's so hard to explain their relationship but I love it. I keep thinking about the skip ending and the narrator being so scared of being on his own, and then Stanley ends up on his own and then he's free but there's NOTHING out there. And then he's back again in his office, and the narrator's back too, and everything's normal. Do you think Stanley remembers every loop? It's hard to say if the narrator does, but Stanley can't even say anything about it.
since stanley is a representation of the player (but is also his own person with how narrator differentiates the player "you" and stanley), i have a firm belief that he's really the only one who remembers all the loops.
there are times when narrator references certain runs and even affects them if youve already done it (broom closet, bucket (1000 bumpscosity), memoryzone), but of all the things he cant remember its when hes the victim of the run (story or ending but i like calling it run). i dont think ive heard him reference the adventure line, real person, and the zending in the 2013 tsp, and weve seen that he doesnt make any reference to the skip button in ultra deluxe either. of course hes not going to reference every other run and i may be assuming here buuuuut...
there is one bit of actual evidence for narrator forgetting runs. if you watch the epilogue of ultra deluxe and once stanley repeats the game, narrator has no clue whats going on and almost panics over it. so yeah its absolutely possible he doesnt remember other runs, though which ones is hard to tell. if you check the figley ending, it shows that he DOES remember past runs of where the figleys were. except for the pink room, which is another piece of evidence he forgets.
it gets really confusing when you think about how he remembers you the player. hes aware of the player but only in certain runs (whenever he says "you", hes talking to you). if this can be considered evidence of him forgetting and remembering, its debatable. but its interesting he only mentions the player when something stanley cant normally do happens. hes also actively hostile to the player. if he cant blame it on stanley, hell blame it on the player. he never holds himself accountable. if you check the skip button dialogue, he ALWAYS blames another party.
and the biggest evidence (arguably evidence cause its based on my interpretation but if my interpretation IS true then WOW) i found is somewhere in the skip button dialogue, narrator implies that he remembers his past stressful ends from 2013 tsp and starts refering the player to dump his angry spiel.
as for evidence that stanley the character remembers. theres the epilogue! it doesnt say if he remembers everything, but it does imply it. theres also the whole process of collecting figleys, which the character will need to remember in order to get them all. (very watsonian interpretation)
oh i actually have a theory that the reason we see stanley in the desert in the epilogue is because he used the skip button ending to leave the office. we know that the narrator is very much dead when you see that desert, so seeing stanley there makes you think.
i actually found this explanation somewhere that the way the world evovles in the skip buttom ending is figurative for the narrators imagination or head, the desert signifying as his absolute death cause its empty and devoid of life.
you can also consider their roles (or your role) in traditonal storytelling! narrator is the narrator, and hes an unreliable one. stanley is the protagonist, therefore the readers way of interpeting the world. the protagonist may not know everything, but the reader does. and since tsp's medium is not actually a traditionally written story and is instead a game, being a player helps stanley (this feels lile a watsonian interpretation too with a dash of fourth wall break lol)
#the stanley parable#this may or may not be bullshit#i havent even seen all the endings in ultra deluxe dhskhdjd#and ive forgotten most of 2013 tsp#BUT. yeah thats how i generally see them#sorry i rambled too much#i love this game
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i haven't started summer troupe act 2 yet (come to think of it, i actually need to get to one day princess first!) but. ive been periodically listening to a3 music lately and i swear every time i check the music page on the wiki to see song credits im reminded that i can literally never stray too far away from my vocaloid roots haha... i mean ig it makes sense its like. people who make music also work on. other music. but its still sooo funn to see! like wow. yuyoyuppe's done some of my favorite tracks on a3 and produces for babymetal AND is the originator of some of my fav vocaloid tracks... sasakure.uk worked on hisoka's character song! (that one i didnt even have to look up, i heard the first five seconds and went oh this is so much like little cry of the abyss aka one of my favorite songs of all time. highly recommend if u liked traumerei and void) anyways. its just. its nice. i was reminiscing abt the music i liked today and wanted to check the lyrics of MKDR since it's one of my fav deco27 songs and then boom credited for arrangement is emon(tes.) chikage and homare's chara songs are written by the guy who did the gsnk opening. hes credited on other a3 stuff too. i think what i'm realizing by this is just like. ...huh, i listen to a lot of j-music. still! every time i recognize another name or something clicks its so fun for me. like im carrying my own secret web of music
ohmygod
first of all, take your time as always, there's no rush, the archive isn't going anywhere ;D you'll get there
But as for the music, first of all, i feel you, bc the music is banger, which i don't need to tell you since you know it in way better details than i do
it's incredible that you could find this much references to things you've been into in the discography holy shit. Like yeah sure it makes sense music maker also made for good music producers but it's still two words that collide!! that's wild.
I listened to a few Vocaloid when i was younger but their songs has always been good!!
and it's funny bc when i was younger, saying of any J-music "it reminds me of Vocaloid" used to get you the stinky eye on the assumption people would make that just "yeah so you just think J-music is the same", which is! absolutely never what i would mean by that, but therefore i've kept for myself all this time "Hisoka's first solo really sounds like a Vocaloid's song" and the fact you, a pro, comes and tell me not only exactly that it's because it was composed by a Vocaloid composer, but that their musical style is shining through, is really gratifying.
I'll definitely need to check out the Vocaloid songs he worked on, i really love traumerei and i would love to hear more by this artist.
And i'm losing my mind over the fact Chikage and Homare's songs were written by the guy who did the gnsk's opening???? I LOVE this song, it's been in my banger playlists in forever, and you're telling me the guy went to a3 and decided to write two others bangers? (two of my most listened solos at that??)
that's so damn cool, worlds collide hard but in such a fun way.
Thank you so much for sharing a bit of your little secret with me, it was like opening the door to a whole lot of possibilities. It's one thing to know that most of the composers/arrangers worked on Vocaloid or various songs, it's another to point out to those specific songs and get a blast once you connect the two, and i appreciate you sharing that with me.
It's really so nice, thank you so much for sharing <33
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2022 WRITING REVIEW
tagged: @rosesau @ttimbradford <3
1. number of stories posted to ao3: 27 (±2 bc i updated 2 fics that i started last year) but i reached over 100 works on ao3!!!!!
2. word count posted for this year: 101,410 (technically More bc i wrote ofic but that is obviously not posted anywhere)
3. fandoms i wrote for: marvel (spider-man), dc (batman, superman), pjo, the atlas series, six of crows, the raven cycle/the dreamer trilogy, hp, and goncharov 😭
4. pairings: petermj, petergwen, percabeth, libbynico, kanej, bluesey, blue/adam, clois, gonchandrey
5. stories with the most
kudos: accidental heroism (the batman) 3,357
bookmarks: the jones-watson-parkers (spider-man) 844 but since that was posted last year it's technically accidental heroism again w 640
comment threads: yet again... the jones-watson-parkers with 133 but it is still accidental heroism with 47
6. work i'm most proud of (and why): ummmm idk actually the work im most proud of is my ofic theo and i cannot Show that to u anyway it's bc i have never rly fully revised smth like. overhauled it n all that bc i finally Understood theo's character and it was such a RUSH to work on her fr and ive produced some of my Best Writing To Date!!! for fic tho uh??!??!?!? im pretty proud of most fic ive written this year bc i have tried rly hard ok 😭 usually i can pinpoint a single fic but i think ive written consistently well ???
7. work i'm least proud of (and why): a home for two (spider-man) mostly because i did Not vibe writing it i was literally pulling teeth trying to finish it but ppl seem to like it idk
8. share of describe a favorite review you received: this comment from a fic i posted last year bc "this fic is so PRETTY, literally poem in prose form im weeping. there's such a... melancholic vibe to it. or perhaps nostalgic. just, wow." has stuck w me forEVER!! and genuinely any comment i have even received from ao3 user Fairy527...u will ALWAYS be famous 2 MEEE!!!!!!
9. a time when writing was really, really hard: uh not for fic but i was tearing my hair out writing theo partially because of the content and partially because it is quite literally Difficult to write what's perfect in your head and i haven't even written theo to my own standards ngl
10. a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: the entirety of final goodbye because. Well. who knew i would be writing goncharov fic actually who knew goncharov would even exist fr
11. a favorite excerpt of your writing: ok not to have an ego but there r a fair few bits
Here's the thing about loss: sometimes you grow up and around a person, fitting and stretching and expanding to add them to the patchwork of yourself, and when they leave, there's a scar between both bodies. One here, one gone. An open wound. It's surprising how much time you can spend with someone and still come out the other end empty-handed. (slip of reality | spider-man)
Touching her eclipses his image of Elysium. ANDDDD Annabeth faces her past self, a funhouse reflection of who she once was. Neglect and trauma have warped Young Annabeth into something smaller—into someone smaller. (the annabeth project | pjo)
The Ronan after was broken, a raven of a boy, all hollow-boned. Yearned for flight, yet trapped by a cage of his own making. (the living lynches | tdt)
The very fact of her breathing astounds him for some reason. There are working lungs, a network of veins, a beating, beautiful heart hidden inside her body. She is wonderfully, colossally alive. (a kiss without a kiss | trc)
12. how did you grow as a writer this year: oh i have learned to appreciate writing first person bc of theo <3 and writing a little longer things bc i am a serial 1-2k oneshotter and i have Exceeded that a bit
13. how do you hope to grow next year: perhaps i will Finally finish a multichapter fic jesus christ
14. who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc): seedemma <3 u made me worse as a person. also tangentially em's professor . why has that random man infiltrated my life i've never met him. anyway jack im also kithing u on the mouth btw
15. anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: none that i can point out at the top of my head ! well. except for theo 🧍🏻♀️ i gave her too many lysisms which is concerning considering everything wrong w her n her chronic patheticness
16. any new wisdom you can share with other writers: new wisdom??? god not rly but here is some OLD wisdom that i feel like other writers shld always listen to... read MORE BOOKS!!!!!!!!!! i swear u can taste the visceral difference btwn someone who writes and reads n someone who writes without reading n like ive read a fair few books this year and it has def seeped into my writing fr
17. any projects you're looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: working on the Novel™ n also attempting to finish all these wips i have left in the grave
18. tag some writers whose answers you'd like to read: ngl i forgot who writes fic im sorry so @bluepinstripes & @ogiroud (who won't see this until jan fr)
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Shogun Steel Episode 10:
-omg omg is this the yoshio ep? This is gonna be hilarious.
-why does he also have the shogun steel abs. Why does everyone have these. They ruin every design.
-love that the episode is immediately throwing this dude in our faces. No set up no nothing.
-yo where are the unabaras?
-i want to imagine benkei giving this speech to gingka.
-also just wanna say kite is ending up being a fine character. Like normally i think id hate him but then sakyo and takanosuke are right there.
-eight should be allowed to punch kite in the face just saying
-eight and kenta bonding over the person they look up to being mean to them
-"lemme see. This is in HORRIBLE shape" i dont know why i love that line delivery but i do
-i cant believe they describe this guy but dont mention the fact yoshio looks like That
-aw eight is the little brother of the blading community. And everyone is annoyed with him as such
-eight should teach yu to skate. Inside the house.
-i love that maru specifically makes life worse for zyro
-BACKGROUND GIRL BLADER! I THINK IVE SEEN HER BEFORE WHEN THE ONE DAY TOURNEY WAS ANNOUNCED!
-yoshio. Yoshio how am i supposed to focus when you look like that
-eight having his kenta arc and ngl hes pulling it off decently. Def better than he pulled off being yu
-madoka should get out a spritz bottle. Spray yoshio down hell just melt into a puddle or something
-zyro and ren have rhe exact same braincell in ruining shit.
-everyone just stands around the little circle and watches. So serious. So terrifying.
-eight got wrecked. Physical violence making its return full throttle
-nvm eights fine
-i love that shinobu looks second hand embarassed at kites panic while the others are just watching with full interest.
-eight gets thrown back and covered in scratches in one screen, and just a single scrape in the next. I will accept this bc its fucking hilarious on a meta level.
-OROCHI DOESNT EVEN LOOK THAT BROKEN! BEYBLADE CAN BREAK BEYS BETTER THAN THAT!
-once again id like to say kite is actually a better character than i remember. Probably bc he isnt worse than the cast around him
-awwwwwwwww kite realizing his mistakes. Now if only kite is actually gonna keep his progress.
-sidenote but i think eight asked either madoka or benkei to teach him how to cook to cheer up kite
-can someone please stop showing yoshio i cant take him seriously
-if hikaru was director shed come here herself amd kick yoshio out im just saying-
-kite would be a bad math major hes trying too hard
-oh wow leviathan broke easy
-summary: probably the best episode so far. I do enjoy rens episodes more, but thats not because theyre well written. This genuinely felt closest to an episode from the main series. It showed off kite and eight at their best as characters, and while it was a bit heavy handed, i think thats fine. I take back what i said about kite i mean hes annoying but at least he has this episode. This was a real palette clenser from the misogyny. I hope there are more episodes like this and they keep eight as more of a kenta character than a yu character.
#deity rewatches shogun steel to bully it#would not have expected this to be one of my faves but here we are#beyblade#beyblade shogun steel#beyblade metal fight#mfb
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Director's Cut Commentary: Ch. 5
i buried my ballast, i made my peace
actually not sure i have much for this chapter...as i said in the actual author's note, it was kind of a neat challenge to try to do another take of a conversation i'd already written once, and make it different enough that i wouldnt feel like i'd self-plagiarized. and i think i managed to pull it off, which gives me hope for my future lol because sometimes i write something and im like "shit what if i have to write a scene like this in another fic and i cant think of anything better than this?!" but i think its fine, thats life, and if i dont think of anything better, then oh well!
I was very proud that i managed to work leah's favorite poem (mad girl's love song by sylvia plath) into this lol it fit so perfectly!
ok wow i think that's all ive got today!
fav line: "Their first gig is a hit. Of course, it’s also a literal captive audience."
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Chapter 2
He’s on the ground and Sam Winchester is standing over him.
“It’s the ending where you’re just like us” He tells Chuck.
Sam starts walking around Chuck, slowly.
“It’s the ending where you grow old”.
Sam starts to walk faster.
“You get sick”.
Watching Sam going around and around was making Chuck feel lightheaded. He was getting dizzy.
“You just die”.
Sam was a funnel and Chuck was sucked down, spinning wildly.
“No one cares”.
Chuck’s hands came out, trying to find anything to grip onto to stop him spinning faster.
“No one remembers you”.
He was going to be sick, he couldn’t stop spinning. Sam had faded into the distance, leaving Chuck falling into the abyss.
“You’re … just … forgotten”
His eyes moved, then slowly he opened them. He was looking up at pale white tiles on the ceiling, with lights in small shielded squares. There were bleeping noises coming from the side of him. He slowly moved his head to look at the source of the noise. It was a small monitor recording his breathing and heart rate. As he moved slowly he became conscious of something sitting on his face, he reached up to touch under his nose face and he seen a small clip with a glowing red light on his finger. There was something sticking in his nostrils as he touched it, it moved, making him pull a face as it tickled, it was those oxygen tubes like the ones in Doctor Sexy. He went to raise his other hand and stopped fast. There was a slight pulling and god was it sharp, it made his stomach tighten as he looked down at his hand, there was an IV in his wrist, taped in place with a little tube attached that led up to a bag.
Oh wow, they really hurt. He had no idea they felt like this
He had written Sam and Dean in hospital scenarios, even Castiel once, it was one of his favourite tropes, ‘How to hurt the Winchesters, without actually killing them’.
Laying there in this bed, in this too warm and stuffy room, with an IV from hell in his hand, feeling like cotton wool had dried up his mouth, he sure regretted those times he had put the boys through this, it really was not pleasant.
He slowly got up, using his pillows behind him. So he was in a hospital, and that meant the humans here would have questions on why he was out in the woods, such answers he could not give. He was the one who guided Sam and Dean mentally to never to talk about the Supernatural, he couldn’t make his story if they were locked up.
The IV in his wrist poked sharply as he moved, it needed to come out!
He looked at it closely, his head slowly clearing as he became more awake. There was tape over the top, all he had to do was take it off and remove the IV. It was so easy; he had seen many movies were actors just pulled them out. He once had Dean do it when hunted by the Leviathan, Dean didn’t even react, so if Dean could do it, he certainly could.
He carefully removed the finger monitor as it was cumbersome, setting off a louder beeping. Chuck looked at it with annoyance and flicked his finger to silence it. It kept beeping loudly.
Chuck sighed and went back to the tape.
“Ah ah ah!” Chuck moaned, pressing down with his lips. He felt faint, he was sure the needle moved. It felt like it was going to rip out of his skin. This was barbaric and humanity was the worse for creating such torture.
The door opened fast as a nurse came in, no doubt alerted by the beeping.
“No, leave that” The nurse said, rushing over to take his hand and place it down on the bed..
“It’s ok, you’re in hospital, do you remember anything? A couple of hikers found you delirious out on the trail, somebody will be in to talk to you later when you have recovered a little more”
She laid her hand gentle onto his shoulders.
“Lay back down please, you need to take it easy, you are still very dehydrated, there’ll be a doctor in later to see you”
She moved him back into the pillows, Chuck was astonished by the audacity of her, manhandling her creator like this!
Boredom. Endless boredom.
The nurse came back every half an hour to check to see if he was still alive. He was beginning to wish he wasn’t. Whatever this dump was, it was unfit to be called a hospital. He was in a room smaller than his smallest bedroom back when he was slumming it as Chuck the prophet. The window blinds were down, blocking off his view of outside. His room was as white as church walls and just as drab, not even a railing to provide any colour. He was being made to sip diluted squash slowly, he first tried to gulp it down but the nurse told him no like he were a child. He was on his third plastic cup full within two hours of waking, he had to face the shame as his nurse tried to get him to urinate which was not improving his mood.
On top of that there seemed the constant sound of what seemed to be trolleys rolling up and down the corridor. Finally came the food! He wanted food so much, however what came was not fit for a God. It was ham sandwiches, cut into tringles, with a side helping of salad. He wanted a burger, not some kid’s home cooked lunch from their soccer mom’s fridge. He still cramped it into his mouth as he was starving, he moaned slightly as the flavours hit him. It was even better as human. The flavours were so strong. His mouth flooded with water as his tongue touched butter.
“This is heaven” He said, confusing his nurse with his odd behaviour.
The worst thing about this room, Chuck concluded, there was no television. If only he could watch something, anything, even the news. He was left in endless quiet, but not total quite as the trolleys never stopped rolling past the door. The phone out by the nurse station kept ringing, people talking, buzzers ringing.
He was so bored!
The IV was still bothering him.
He spent a considerable long time watching it, while he sipped artificial orange flavoured water that was too weak. The drip, drip, drip of the clear fluid as it dropped from the bag, it collected into a small pool were it was slowly absorbed down the big long tube that ran into his wrist. He wanted it out, right now. Watching the water fall was more interesting than paying attention to the man who had entered the room to ask Chuck a million questions
“Can you tell me your name?” The man asked.
He already knew Chuck’s name. Chuck had already given the nurse his name, or the name he was going by, as he had lied. The nurse would have told the doctor before he came in here, the man knew everything about him so Chuck did not see why he should say it all again.
He was writing whenever Chuck spoke. It annoyed him to no end, if he still had his powers, this guy would be monster chow for something the Winchesters could hunt.
“It’s Rob, Rob Carver”
He couldn’t just give out his name, that was stupid, he knew any number of demons, witches or even his own angels would love to get his hands on him right now, why make it easier for them by giving them his real name.
“Ok Rob. Do you know why you were up by the trail without any equipment or supplies” The doctor asked over his notes
“Um, I just fancied going to see the lake, I heard there was one up there. I got lost coming back down” Chuck just smiled, he knew how to look sheepish to people, he had plenty of practise as Chuck.
“Did you take transport?” The doctor asked
“Nope. I just walked up there and got lost. I’m so embarrassed about it to be honest”
“Rob, the lake is at least 35 miles away from the town” The doctor made another note. “You went up in clothes that were unsuitable, and you had nothing for the journey, no food or water, not even a phone on you”
“Ah” Chuck said, knowing he had landed himself into it “Really? Oh wow”
He bit his lip. If only he had his power, he would have just walked out of here. Perhaps vanishing the nurse first, and this man after her.
The doctor offered him a reassuring look.
“Rob. I need you to be honest with me. You were found in a state of delirium brought on by hypothermia and dehydration. You must have been out there exposed to the elements for days. I must ask, was this an attempt on your own life?”
Chuck almost said “What?” out loud but stopped himself. Why would these humans even think that? It was so morbid.
Unfortunately, the man seemed to take Chuck’s indifference as a confirmation.
“We need to arrange you psychiatric help Rob. Due to this attempt, we have to issue a 72 hour involuntary admission. Once you are discharged from here you shall be transferred to-“
“Dude, dude, stop. I’m not insane ok. I’ve just had a slight change in circumstances, thanks to my family. Thing is, I’m not mad, not crazy”
Chuck rolled his eyes.
The doctor opened his mouth to speak, but Chuck had enough of him and lifted his arm, the one without the IV, and clicked his fingers, expecting the man before him to just vanish. What happened instead was a well-deserved confused look from the doctor, before he scribbled more notes.
Great, though Chuck, just great.
Outwards Chuck just smiled.
“It’s been a long day”
The second day was the worst.
The nurse kept coming in to check up on him every half an hour. The IV was still in his arm, the bag had been replaced overnight. He had been woken a few times in the night for tempeture checks, vital checks and once for an embarrassing urine test that had left him wanting to massacre the entire hospital. He had condemned entire nations for less in the past.
He knew now drinking from the lake had been a very bad idea, the nausea had hit him. He shivered from constant chills, then felt the heat baring down on him. He had managed to get out of bed to use the bathroom. The pain in his leg was a bad graze, the skin has been cut but a simple dressing was all that was needed. It would heal within a few days, the idea of waiting for anything to heal was beyond his thinking. The rest of the time he laid in bed, trying to drink but being sick every time he tried. Twice he had rung the nurse station on the buzzer by his bed for the temperature in this room to be turned down. All he achieved was adding to the noise of that place, because as his nurse said, the rooms all were kept at the same temperature at all times.
“You, your entire family, and all your friends are condemned to the pit” he hissed after she had left.
Thankfully, amazingly, his sickness broke on the fifth day and Chuck felt better.
On que, the nurse woke him at 7am to force him to sip down more water as part of his hydration ritual. While asking him what he wanted to eat for breakfast that morning, she alerted Chuck to the news a psychiatrist would be coming to visit him today to talk about his transport to another hospital more accustomed to his needs.
Chuck smiled, best to appear cooperative.
In reality, it was time to discharge himself.
He had zero intend to go along with these humans. He wasn’t crazy, he was God!
There were not locking him up. What was it with humans trying to lock him up lately, he couldn’t believe it.
While he waited for his oatmeal, Chuck leaned forward, getting onto his knees, he crawled to the edge of the bed. The nurse had left the door open slightly. He could see only a wall with health notices stuck to them, he moved back to the pillows and slowly got out of bed. Taking hold of the pole on which the IV was held he walked carefully around the bed. If the nurse caught him he would lie and say he was using the bathroom. He reached the door and peered out.
Sure enough, the nurse station was a little way down the corridor to the left. To the right however was a bend leading away. There were signs all around and sure enough, the exit sign was all lit up.
‘Me bless humans!’ Chuck thought, they were so helpful.
He made his way back around the bed and climbed in it. The hospital gown he was wearing would be a problem once outside, but it was very low on his priorities right now.
If there was anything humanity wanted to do more, it was to carry on living. He had placed that built in desire to escape harm into them, so that even today in the modern age, humans would have their emergency exit signs lite up like a Christmas tree.
His second highest priority behind getting out of here was the infernal IV still sticking into his wrist. It has been moved from his left arm to his right. He wanted so badly to just pull it off, but just taking the tape off was enough to make him faint. Lucky his nurse came to take it out after he had finished eating his breakfast.
“Keep the dressing on until later today, it should stop bleeding very shortly, but there may be some bruising for a few days, and some tenderness in that area, just like how it was for your other hand…”
She started to remove the tape. Chuck pushed his lips together and looked away. His stomach did a weird twisting feeling as her gloved hands held his hand as she removed the tube. He didn’t look until he felt her sticking something soft over where it had been and tapped it down into place.
Chuck lost interest in her. The one thing stopping him leaving had gone. There was now nothing between him from just walking out the second she was gone. A small smile almost showed on his face
“Rob?” She was saying. Chuck remembered that was the fake name he had given them
“Oh? What was that sorry?” He asked
“I need your insurance details if you have them, if not I can forward your bill to the hospital you’ll be going too after here”. She explained to him.
Insurance? Did they really expect God to have a health insurance policy? Not even Chuck had one when he came to think of it. The pills he had acquired from a chemist using his powers, all in order to convince the Winchesters had had terrible headaches.
“Oh um I have insurance” He lied “But I’ve forgot my details” He ended with another sheepish smile.
The nurse just smiled at him.
“It’s ok, we shall forward the bill and then ether you can make monthly repayments or apply to your insurance company”
“Yeah, will do that” Chuck nodded.
He wanted her to go so he could do a run for it.
The psychiatrist was regularly called in to this hospital to assess patients believed to be high risk to themselves and others. He was escorted up to one of the middle floor wards and went to the nurse station. The normal procedure was simple enough, he would meet with the patient, talk to them about their feelings, how they’ve been this past month and discuss the situation in what landed them here with him. Today would be very different.
“Its this room here” A young student nurse said as he escorted the psychiatrist to the room where ‘Lake guy’ was staying. He knocked on the door and opened it and stopped. The room was empty, the student nurse paused for a second before walking over to the door to the bathroom, he knocked on it, however it was open slightly, the light was off.
The student nurse felt slight nerves in this stomach as he opened the door wider and turned on the light. When dealing with mental health patients, he didn’t know what to expect. He was partly relieved when the room was shown to be empty.
“Mm I will just see where he’s gone” The student nurse said as he walked back to the nurse station. The psychiatrist was behind him
“Hey” The student said “Do you know where the man in that room is? Has he been taken somewhere?”
The nurse that had been treating Chuck rose up from her seat, she looked concerned.
“He was meant to be in here” She said, pushing the door open fully as though she would find her patient that way.
There was nobody in the room. The student nurse looked over at the nurse for answers, but she was looking at the psychiatrist.
“We need to alert security” She said at last.
Half an hour earlier, Chuck waited in his room. The nurse had just left and he knew from her normal routine she wouldn’t bother him for another thirty minutes. He could not find his normal clothing, he hadn’t seen them since he gotten here and woke up wearing a hospital gown, however given the state of them he wouldn’t be surprised if they had just binned them. Sad, they were from an Italian designer Chuck had raided after he had vanished humanity away, they cost more than any regular Italian family’s weekly food allowance. Making do with the gown of shame, Chuck made his way to the door and peered out again. There were a few people walking around, other patients, families, nurses doing rounds with their trollies. Chuck walked out and turned right, going right to the exit signs. He walked casual, not to appear in a hurry or to alert suspicion. As he walked past he looked in some of the rooms. A woman was sleeping, or perhaps too sick to get out of bed, a pink pokadot dressing grown hung up on a peg. Chuck looked behind to make sure no nurse was looking, he slipped into the room. He took the dressing gown from the peg and wrapped it around him, making sure the hood was standing up awkwardly into the back of his head, covering his face slightly. From behind he could pass as a female to anybody not looking closely, a tall female but still female. He knew there was a reason he made the Chuck suit the average height for men from a few centuries ago, he thanked his foresight for this blessing. There was nothing he could do about the looks from in front of him, but in this current age, people were less judgemental. He descended staircase after staircase, he didn’t take the elevator as he may have bumped into somebody who would recognise him. It had been twenty minutes since the nurse left his room, she will be going to check on him in less than ten minutes.
He was feeling a little worn out and tired, his heart rate faster slightly from the physical effort of walking, he was also sweating, which was gross, he had never sweated before from just moving around. He also wished he had a watch, he hated guessing the time, he knew he didn’t have long until his absence was noticed. He reached the bottom floor at last and made his way near to the corridor when he heard it
Radio chatter
‘Patient missing from ward 15.19. Believed to be high risk. Dark curly haired man, late 40’s’
He looked through the crack in the door to see a security guard standing by the fire exit.
Damn.
‘What would I have Sam and Dean do?’ Chuck thought. Well they would press the fire alarm. He looked around him, then went back up the staircase. There was a little red box at the top of floor 1. He went back up, breathing heavy. He pulled the little trigger down and an ear spitting siren rang out. He turned around and casually walked back down the stairs slowly, pulling up the hood to conceal his face. He also bent over slightly and held his ribs as if he had injured them. This give anybody looking at him the illusion of hurt ribs, a reason to be walking slowly as other people passed him on the stairs. It also totally covered his face and hid more of his height. All around him were people, some carers, some patients. The guard was busy directing those that could walk to the entrance of the hospital. There was confusion as those who needed assistance gathered in safe spots on stairwells waiting to be rescued. Another security guard went up to help, but first he opened a back exit for people to exit the building faster, clearing the way for the other people to come down.
“Watch your step there Miss” He said to a woman in a pink dressing gown, bent slightly forward, as she exited the building with others.
Upstairs on floor 15, the nurse that had been looking after ‘Rob’ had begun evacuating patients that could walk to a safe area, until she and her co-workers got the call to say the fire alarm had been a fake alarm, it has been manually pulled and not trigged by the smoke alarms.
In the aftermath of the fake fire alarm, they would continue to search the hospital. Bathrooms would be checked by members of staff, the café, the chapel, even the streets outside and around the hospital would be looked at by the alerted local police, however the man who called himself ‘Rob’ was now long gone.
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HELLOOO Im back on tumblr weee
I dont currently have a journal and if I did, these are the things I’d be typing, honestly actually…. Do i get a tumblr again?
I stg I used to have a tumblr back in the 2000s, when i was in highschool and id journal on it, and it was so deep and emotional and I was going through my first heartbreaks and bullying and idk where this was going but I used to do that
AnYWAYS
Man I am so happy. Normally I journal when im sad or feeling some type of way, going through bad things and I need something to process and I need to write it out, I have a whole booklet of the 2 years after my breakup in 2019 and I read it to see how far ive come out of it, but genuinely 2023 has been the best fucking year of my life.
I feel like i got my girlhood back? I have no way of explaining it except for that
I found this gym class at the end of January 2023, and then went once a week jan-sept and now sept-october i’ve been going twice a week and i LOVE the people, i love the trainers and gets me out of the house
The only bad part of this year is my job, but at the end of the day we all need money
I went to TWO TAYLOR SWIFT CONCERTS, I started the year thinking i was going to ZERO. LITERALLY ZERO. my friends WHO I NEVER MET in atlanta asked me to go in april 2023 so i said hell yes immediately, i screamed, told my bestfriends and went and had the absolutely most incredible time in the nosebleeds. The entire concert was so so so amazing
Then I went too pittsburg in June 2023, which was so crazy
This girl, who i was friends with when we were 14-18, and she lived in maryland, and i lived in canada, reconnected with me. We did not talk 18-28, we stopped being friends because of A BOY, and just we both were going through so much and needed to grow up and become better people. SHE REACHED OUT TO ME AFTER 10 YEARS. Told me how she missed me, and missed how we went to FEARLESS in 2010 and she wanted to go to eras with me after 13 years and I SAID YES, obviously for taylor but for a friend I had missed so much
So i went and i reconnected with hannah and when i tell you that concert changed my life. It absolutely did, I think about it everyday. I relived my entire childhood that night with hannah and taylor. Every big moment in my life, I can connect a taylor swift song too, I know what i was listening too and when I listen now, it just brings me back but also creates new memories and better ones.
I didnt even realize how unhappy I was, or how in the trenches I was, during heartbreak and no money, and I sit here typing this like wow i love my life, I love my friends and I love every moment that brought me to this place.
I have so so much else to talk about 2023 and how I’m so excited for 2024, and yes this will end up in tumblr I’ve decided (originally this was written in google docs hahaha)
Anyways
If youre reading this, anyone, I’m 28, I spent most of my life being bullied, or without girl friends. I was jealous of others, and never thought Id be here. Im single (and i dont care) I spent alot of time caring and man I am so happy. I’m looking forward to all the events I have planned and the experiences by myself. I love having my own light to light me up and not relying on others.
Again ANYWAYS I cant keep ranting, i gotta make many posts for my rants.
Bye for now future me.
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