#the screenshots in particular were a pain in the ass
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No Pain, No Gain | Part 3 |PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem! reader
A/N: you guys are absolutely feral for this and I love it, thank you legitimately for all the love. Once again 😘 @ewanmitchellcrumbs , hope you luv uwu
Series Masterlist
warnings: EVENTUAL SMUT, 18+, sexual tension, binge eating, mentions of breakup, cursing, dickhead Aemond, reader is horny af, English slang (soz), warnings will be added when needed
When Baela messaged you with this screenshot.
You thought, hell fucking yes.
What better way to take your mind off thinking about your personal trainer’s dick, undo about an hour’s worth of cardio and feel like shit afterwards?
2 for 1 cocktails.
Storm’s End was pretty popular so Baela, being the legend she is, booked for four of you to go. Baela, her twin, Rhaena, you and a mutual friend from university, Maris Baratheon. Her Uncle owned the pub/club so she used her connections to get a further 50% off on friends and family discounts.
God it was going to be a long night.
After getting ready in the living room, Rhaena absolutely hogging the Spotify playlist, all three of you buzzed on a glass of Prosecco hobble to Storm’s End.
“Rhaena, take those stupid shoes off” you nudge her shoulder a bit, which takes her off balance. She’s wearing heels that are far too big and far too high for her. Tottling around like a newborn giraffe.
She yelps a bit but glares at you, “At least I’m taller than you now, short-ass”
Hand on heart, you feign offense, “Who put 50p in you?”
Baela nudges you from your other shoulder, “Children, stop it”
Maris pipes up from behind, playfully squeezing your butt, “Where did you get this from?”
“Ow! Maris!”
Rhaena laughs, “Our creepy cousin is giving her personal training”
“Hey, you” Baela glares at her twin, “He’s not ‘creepy’, just misunderstood. And be nice, his dad just died!”
“Oh yeah cos everyone loved Viserys” Rhaena mused.
You give an awkward look to Maris as you enter Storm’s End, giving a name as they lead you to a booked table.
“He didn’t seem that bothered about it” you shrug as you huff off your coat.
Maris, sat next to you in the booth, hangs her jaw open, “Fuck you, look at these!” she says squeezing your biceps, “I’m jealous I don’t get to see you in the bikini”
Rhaena snorts, “Maris, your bisexual is showing”
“Sorry, sorry”
You must admit that when you were getting ready to go out with the girls tonight, you’d made the effort. The black cocktail dress hanging in the back of your wardrobe, that probably hasn’t been touched since the graduation party a few years ago, looked tempting. So imagine your surprise to find that it still fit, snug in all the right places. It wasn’t quite warm enough to go out in just that, so you pulled a coat over it. Even here, in the darkened part of Storm��s End, a sort of anxiety prickled at you at how low cut it was. You were usually not so brave.
It had been a while since Maris came to visit all of you, so the drinks came easily. And effectively being as cheap as water, it was easy to put all the cocktails away. One particular cocktail had you constantly sneezing from the ginger in it, but you were nicely drunk now, engaged in conversation.
Maris was swooning over a girl she’d met on a night out.
“You know when you see a woman and you’re just like ‘yes’ she is perfect” Maris swoons, slurring her words.
Almost in unison you all say, “No”
“Maris, we are hetero beyond hetero” you laugh, sipping the cocktail and leaning against Baela on your other side. She leans in as well, partially, if not more drunk than you right now.
“Okay fine, I’m not having this conversation with you virgins”
“Whoa whoa whoa! Who said virgin?” Rhaena furrows her brows, angry and you genuinely have to hold back a laugh with how loud she’s being as several people turn around, hearing what she’s said.
“Rhaena, I am willing to bet yours has grown back it’s been so long”
“Nuh-uh” you point to yourself, head wavy from all the drinks, “that’s me~”
Maris orders more, “Didn’t you and what’s-his-face break up like two months ago?”
“Yesss, but we didn’t have sex for ages before that. So if anything it’s me who’s the sad little virgin of the group” you say, polishing off your cocktail to go in for another.
Baela snorts, “At least until she gets a mouthful of Aemond”
You almost spit out your drink, glaring at Baela. The alcohol has made you more…morally loose, yes. But you didn’t expect Baela to say that.
“What the fuck Baela!”
“Oh come on, she’s been cracking out the vibrator everytime I even say his name”
Maris sees your bright red face, “Don’t” you warn.
“Oh my god, as if you have a thing for creepy Aemond?!”
You raise your eyebrows, “Okay, describe him”
“Tall, lanky, skinny…I guess?”
Stalking time.
You raise a finger, putting your cocktail down to get your phone. You quickly bring up his instagram and show her the one photo where his whole body is in shot.
Pretty much as soon as the screen lights her face, her jaw drops.
“Oh my god”
“Can you two please stop thirsting over our cousin, please” Rhaena rolls her eyes,
Maris zooms in, “Hold on, I want to see what all the fuss is about”
She zooms in, really taking him in and the both of you fawn over the photo for a bit too long. Describing everything. His legs, arms that poke out of the shirt he’s wearing with veins. Ugh. His neck, his chest, his shoulders. How tall and broad he is. Just everything.
“Would you not let that man destroy you?” you ask Maris, snatching your phone out her hand,
In your drunken haze, you freeze as your finger slips and double-taps the screen, liking the photo.
“Oh shit”
Rhaena raises her eyebrows, “what”
“I just fucking liked the photo” you drop the phone and put your head in your hands, vision spinning from the alcohol as well as the embarrassment.
The girls erupt in laughter, which isn’t helping.
You find the courage to look and see that the photo is a good ten or so months old. And the little dot next to his profile shows he’s suddenly active. He’s definitely noticed.
Fuckfuckfuck.
“Hey, you never know, it might be a good ‘in’ to get him to bang you” Maris chimes.
You’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life. And yet, you can’t help your mind wander at the possibility of it.
Would he?
He was pretty handsy last time.
But he’s a personal trainer, surely it’s wrong for you to pay him and bang him when he’s on the job.
No you can’t.
You can’t imagine…him bare chested pressed against you, hot, sticky and sweaty from the efforts, broad shoulders closing you into the mattress, large hands splayed across your waist, teeth biting at your neck, prying your thighs apart, rutting into yo-
“Hello! Earth to y/n!”
Fuck, you’ve got to stop doing this.
“Do us all a favour and fuck him” Maris muses, “You’re like in heat or something”
Despite the embarrassment of it all, the night continues on and Baela is far too drunk to carry on. So being the good friend you were and mother of the group, you pull her hand around your shoulder and escort her home. She’s wobbly at best and seems to laugh at the smallest thing, and even though you’re drunk as well, the situation earlier sobered you up considerably.
“I have a headahceee….” Baela moans.
“I heard you the first three times you said it”
“Can we get some painkillers, we don’t have any hic back at the flat..”
With an annoyed groan you drag her into the nearest corner shop, it’s close-ish to home, so hopefully she swallows the painkillers, shuts the fuck up and you can tuck her in on the sofa.
She waits at the entrance while you pay, talking absent-mindedly to a stranger.
“Baela, don’t talk to strangers please” you say as you shove the box of painkillers in her hand. The man she’s talking to smirks amused at the situation.
“This isn’t a stranger, it’s my other cousin!” she says, her drunkenness making her far too loud.
“Oh yeah?” you crack open the bottle of water you bought, taking a swig before passing to Baela, “Is that true?” you ask the other man.
It could be true. He’s got platinum hair, a smile that spells trouble and that weird cockiness all Targaryen men seem to have. He gives you a bit of a wink, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Unfortunately, yes. Aegon” he extends his hand and you tentatively shake it, still a bit weary. He looks at you like he already knows you, it’s very weird.
“Yeah that sound like a Targaryen name”
“He’s Aemond’s older brother” Baela says while taking a sip of water, accidentally letting it fall over her face and down her neck,
“Unfortunately, also yes” Aegon smirks, “She looks a bit worse for wear”
“We can thank Storm’s End 2 for 1 cocktails for that, can’t we Bae?” you smile, hooking an arm around her waist to steady her, she just grunts in response, “what are you doing here anyway?” you ask Aegon as he’s now found some interest in walking alongside you both.
He shrugs, “Just came out to get a few bits, do you guys want a lift home? Aemond’s parked around the corner”
“Yeah actu-” your mind works before your mouth does and your face pales a bit, embarrassment working its way into your belly.
Baela has that stupid fucking smirk on her face again, wide and giddy like a child, “Yes please! Y/n, this is your chance to get Aemond to ram-”
“Enough of that” you warn sternly, slapping a hand over mouth, but Aegon gives an amused grin, seemingly catching onto the subject of the conversation, “We’re fine getting home thanks”
“Don’t be stubborn, come on” Aegon says, helping Baela down the road.
A gnawing embarrassment curls in your gut. The last thing you want is to see him. And this is reinforced when you round the corner and Aemond is in the driver’s seat, looking up when he sees three figures. His eyes dart between Aegon and Baela for a moment before landing firmly on you, shamelessly looking down and then back up again.
You take a deep breath. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.
Try as you might, you make for the back seat, but with a shit-eating grin, Aegon makes it there first, under the guise of helping Baela in the backseat and making sure she’s okay. And you want lightning to strike him down right now with how fucking smug he looks.
A family trait, you see.
With an annoyed huff and without looking at the smug blonde in the driver’s seat, you get in the passenger seat, quickly pulling the seatbelt around you. Aemond doesn’t say anything either, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh.
Oh God, his thighs.
Stopstopstop.
You can almost see in your peripheral the way he’s smirking to himself, thinking it’s all very amusing.
“Aem!” Baela shrieks drunkenly from the backseat, luckily cutting the already existing tension, “Where did you come from?”
Aem chuckles lowly and it might be the first proper time you’ve heard him laugh, he turns to his cousin in the back seat, “I could ask you the same thing”
“I found them in the shop, what was it, Storm’s End 2 for 1 cocktails?” Aegon laughs.
Aemond huffs a laugh in response, raising an eyebrow in your direction, “Training going well then?”
You only have to turn your head a little to face him and when you do, you regret it immediately. In the proximity of the car, with you in the front seat, it’s achingly close. You try to muster up an indifferent look.
“Don’t live in the gym like you do”
He smirks, poking his cheek with his tongue, and turns back to the road, putting the car in gear to drive off. And now his gaze is averted, you briefly let your eyes go over him. It was only fair, he did the same to you. And you turn away quickly with a sigh when you see he’s wearing fucking dark grey sweatpants. All those thoughts return at breakneck speed, the sinful, lustful ones you only think of when you’re alone with your vibrator and it makes you squeeze your thighs together harshly, and you swear you see a flicker of Aemond’s head move in your direction when you do it. Not that he shows it on his face.
Aegon’s playlist is in full swing and it’s not a long car journey, but it certainly fucking feels like it.
You’re just thankful that Baela is quietly drunk in the backseat, half asleep, so she can’t say anything incriminating about the desires you’d divulged in female confidence.
“Stop the car” Baela says hurriedly, undoing her seatbelt.
Aemond brakes, looking back at her in the rearview mirror.
“Oh shit” Aegon curses as Baela gets out the car like a bat out of hell to run behind the closest tree, halfway across the park. Aegon follows with the bottle of water you’d bought her.
In any other situation, you’d be glad to have a borderline sick and vomiting Baela out of the car. But right now, left alone with Aemond after the sheer stupidity of the night so far, you want her to come back as soon as possible.
Aemond sighs, at least glad Baela had the decency to get out of the car before being sick. He reaches for the gearstick to move the car out of the way of the middle of the road. And the smug bastard completely misses and his large hand makes contact with your knee instead. You can do nothing but gasp when he does it.
“Sorry” he murmurs without moving his hand.
When you look at him, he stays eerily still, his eyes flitting across your face to take in the dazed, stunned and impassioned look on your face. Your mouth seems to go dry, brain made of cotton, desperately trying to come up with something to say, but failing.
Aemond withdraws his hand back to the gearstick, but not before giving the flesh above your knee a firm squeeze, burning his touch into them, leaving behind prickling heat on your skin. Seeing that you’ve been caught staring at him for too long, you flick back, pushing your legs together impossibly tighter.
He seems to delight in the reaction.
“Have fun on instagram earlier?”
Oh fuck my life.
You turn to him, embarrassed, but his eyes are on the road just as Aegon and Baela get back in the car with a few rough and tumbles. You hate how easy it is for him to get a rise out of you like this, so you turn away and just watch the night life go by as Aemond drives the 5 minute route back to your flat.
Almost as soon as he pulls up, Aegon’s helping Baela out and you follow, just about to shut the passenger side door when-
“See you at our session tomorrow” Aemond muses smugly. His eyes glimmering with mischief.
Not knowing what to say and far too horny to even form a thought, you take Baela back into your arms and make for the flat, but not before looking over your shoulder to see Aemond’s dark gaze over the steering wheel.
Once in the flat, Baela collapses on the sofa, murmuring incoherently. Like a good mother, you put a glass of water and painkillers on the side table, pulling the blanket over her.
“Did you get railed?...” Baela groans, to which you bite your lip.
“No Baela”
With a disappointed groan, she turns and almost instantly falls asleep, aided by the dizzying effect of the alcohol creeping in. You smile at her, she’s always been like this when she’s drunk. Always the wingman. Or wingwoman, you supposed.
Halfway through taking off your makeup, your phone pings with a notification.
Absolute.
Bastard.
You wake up the next day shockingly kind of okay. Baela on the other hand is milking this for all it’s worth. Being a Saturday, you supposed she’s allowed some time to recover.
But when you use the blender to make a smoothie, she groans, “Are you doing this on purpose...” she groans, with a wet cloth on her forehead.
Forcing the urge to laugh at her away, “Sorry hun”
She lifts the cloth to glare at you, “Why are you in gym gear, it’s Saturday”
Your mind races a bit, a blush making its way up your neck and a familiar heat pooling in your stomach.
“Last session today before the holiday” you say, leaning against the counter to sip the smoothie, “only day free was Saturday”
Baela pulls a face, as if amused.
“What”
“Nothing”
You scoff, “Fuck you, I told you all that under the influence, it doesn’t count”
“Oh yes it does~”
She goes on and on and on it feels like, about how badly you said you wanted Aemond to destroy you last night. She seemingly doesn’t remember the finer details about how you got home. You wished you could forget. You can still feel the way his hand gripped your leg so tightly, the bare skin prickling up.
Ping.
The dreaded ring of a notification. And it’s like he can fucking sense when people are talking about him.
Dramatically, you flop on the sofa, showing Baela the text.
“I don’t know how many more signs you need” she reaches for her go to hangover cure, the biggest bar of chocolate you’ve ever seen and a diet pepsi, “I don’t want to hear anything about it, if you do though because that’s gross. Tell Maris or something”
“Nothing is going to happen”
“Uh huh, whatever you say hoe”
With even Baela’s belief in you dwindling by the second, with a heaving sigh you manage to plop into your car, prop your phone on the mount for directions to the address Aemond sent you and drive. Something curls in your gut all the way there. Nerves? Excitement? Nausea? Was it the Indian food…
You know the answer already but it doesn’t make it any better.
The car that picked you up with Baela the previous day is parked on a driveway, a black Mercedes.
Twat.
With a breath to stable yourself, you trudge with your gym bag to the front door. The front garden is curiously and meticulously tidy, grass mowed and in general looked beautiful. A stark contrast, you think, to the guy inside. For a moment, you honestly think why the hell you’re here. Or maybe it’s just scary how easy it was for you to just…go with it and come to his house.
He appears in the doorway mere seconds after you press the doorbell, making you think he had seen your car pull up, but this notion is quickly dashed when you see him. He leans against the doorframe on his forearm, having to look down at you with a bottle of something in one hand.
“Didn’t get lost then” he says with a smug smile. The embarrassment and those thoughts that were loud the night before come back at breakneck speed, making the heat flood your cheeks uncontrollably. You just hope that he doesn’t see it, but by the amused look on his face, he totally does.
You roll your eyes a bit and his smile seems to drop for a second. He removes his arm from the doorframe, your eyes drag over what he’s wearing briefly. It’s not the black shirt he usually has on, but a grey one with patches of dark at the neckline and middle, you surmise he’s probably already been working out before you got here. The image of his taut stomach sticking to his grey shirt will forever be seared into your memory.
Walking through his home is like walking through a show-home, as in, it doesn’t look like it’s been lived in. It’s weirdly pristine, smells like air freshener and detergent. And as you follow him to the back of the house, where you assume the home gym is, you can’t help but stare at the dark grey patch in the middle of his back and the way his shoulders move when he takes a drink.
There’s some stairs that lead down and you quirk a brow, “a basement gym?”
He stops at the stairs, looking up, his eyes somewhere else before he meets yours. His hair is up in a bun again, like the first time, with stray pieces falling out, “Yes?”
“How very serial killer of you” you muse, following him down the stairs, “Should I share my location with someone”
He huffs a laugh, opening the door and leading you inside with the smallest of touches to the small of your back, “Unless you want to”
Even the borderline ghostly touch against the small of your back through your coat is enough to make your brain feel like it’s mush.
What if he’d ventured down, using his large hand to squeeze your flesh between his fingers? Moulding the skin to shape of his palms?
“Drink?” he asks, strangely more chirpy.
Pulling off your coat you reply, “No, got my water, thanks”, you try and make your voice as stable as possible.
His home gym is actually quite big, lit by several spotlights since there’s no natural light. It hasn’t got any machines, but several weights and sit up benches, perhaps he brings some clients here sometimes? Your body shudders inconsolably at the thought of being laid on the sit up benches, flat with him looming over.
He’s filling up his own water bottle from the cooler in the corner, back to you, “So what were you doing on instagram?” he asks, and you think you can hear the smile on his face.
Taking advantage of him not looking your way, you adjust your sports bra. It’s a different set this time, since the other is in the wash, a dark rusty orange two-piece. He turns just as you’re pulling your hair up into a bun, eyes hooded and trained on you before briefly flitting across the new outfit.
“Stalking your creepy profile” you answer, disinterested.
He raises an eyebrow, “Creepy?”
“That’s what Rhaena said”
“Ah” he responds, “she would”
“Why’s that?”
He motions loosely to his eye that you supposed he was blind in, “Freaks people out”
You furrow your brows, “Why would it freak people out?”. You ask it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s quiet for a moment, tapping his fingers against his water bottle in thought.
“Does it not freak you out?”
You shake your head softly, “No”
He doesn’t take his eyes off you when he takes a sip of water and it makes your thighs feel somewhat like jelly.
“Right, stretches”
Oh boy.
It’s almost as bad as the first time you’ve done them together, except he’s extra handsy, smirking with the knowledge that you were talking about him in your spare time. This time, when you’re doing the 60 second planks on the mat, his hand stays there on your back, moving every now and then slowly between your shoulders, to the nape of your neck. And there’s no mirror in his home gym, so you’re only hoping and praying that he’s not taking this opportunity to look at you in the skin tight leggings too closely.
Although secretly, you kind of hope he is.
“That’s it...” he praises lowly, and it takes you so off guard that you think you might just crack. But you resort to just biting your lip, trapping the skin between your teeth painfully.
Squats are genuinely no better. He stays behind you the entire time, achingly close with his hands on his hips and everytime you go down to do one, you can’t help the desperate thrum of anticipation in your belly as you make contact only very slightly with his leg.
Once you’re done with stretching and core, with the lack of windows in the room you’re in, it’s very hot and you wipe your forehead a little, slightly out of breath as you take a sip of water. Feeling as if you are being watched you turn your head slightly and see him sat on the sit-up bench watching you intensely.
“Shit” you curse as some water leaks out of the bottle onto your chest and right down your sports bra. You try and wipe it away quickly, your chest already glistening with sweat. But when you look up, you see his eyes quickly flit from there to your eyes, darkened. One of his thighs jitters as he bounces his leg, as if aggravated.
“Sorry” you breathe, grounding yourself, “what next” you ask, desperately trying to lighten the tension.
“Bench press” he responds, and there’s that same tone he used last time. The tone that he used after literally scaring your ex away. But you swallow thickly and nod and sit where he once was.
He explains how to do it and you take it all in a bit until you realise he’s going to be standing right behind you and your cheeks flood with heat again, tingling down the back of your neck. He just stands there as he usually does, but from this angle (and it’s very difficult to not look at this point) your head is right at his waistline and had there not been 30kg combined in your arms right now, you probably would have given more of a reaction to it.
But you do your reps, with him watching in silence, seeing you break a sweat. As far as you are aware, his eyes forever on your form, but really it’s zoned in on that shadow that disappears down your sports bra and at the exposed bit of midriff beneath that to your leggings.
As you’re doing the last few, he rounds the side and places his hand flat on your ribs, right under your sports bra’s hem and you freeze, an involuntary gasp escapes.
When you meet eyes, he’s already regarding you.
“Relax”
Licking your lips nervously, you nod and breathe in and out deeply. But he never takes his hand off you, almost making sure you’re doing what he says.
The next few reps are probably the most difficult. Never being able to stop thinking about his fingers on your bare skin, his thumbs drawing very very small circles on the hot flesh there. The air feels charged, as if one wrong move could ignite something, like striking a flame near gas.
He moves his hand lower to your abdomen, making you freeze and look at him again. There’s no smug smile on his face, just a hooded, promiscuous expression, one that makes a deep, blurry thrum right where his hand is.
“Push here”
You try and do as he says for the last few, but it’s hard with the way he’s staring at you. And when you let out a huff and put the weights back where they belong on the rack, he nods slightly.
“Good girl”
He sees the way your face flushes this time, but makes no comment on it. Instead he rights himself to stand, extending his toned arm to you to help you up, not breaking the intensity of his look.
It really does happen too quickly to know who did it. All you remember is taking his hand to pull yourself up. The next. Both his hands are around your waist, nearly encompassing them with how big they are, and the way they slide against your glistening skin rouses you in places you didn’t even know existed.
There’s not even time to say anything when he locks his lips with yours, pushing you harshly against the wall with a thud that makes you gasp into his hot mouth. It’s messy, chaotic, a clashing of desperate lips and when he brushes your lower lip with his tongue it’s embarrassing how good it feels. He pushes you against the wall so harshly by your waist that you think he’s trying to embed you into it, hands clasped tightly around you in frustration, his fingertips creating marks where they are fixed.
Amongst all this, he presses his firm, lithe body against yours and you let out the quietest of moans with the realisation that he is desperately hard beneath the sweatpants he’s wearing, pressing it into your thigh.
“Fuck…” he breathes as his hand snakes up your front to take hold of your jaw, kissing with such need that it almost feels like too much.
All this time your hands have had no idea what to do, but one slides to the nape of his neck, gripping harshly and completely destroying the style his hair had been in. The other runs over the slick skin of his forearm, tracing the veins there, and how they seem to thrum with every beat of his heart, faster with the desire that courses through them.
“Fucking perfect…”
Words fail you at this point, his fingers digging into the sides of your face make you realise he’s keeping you right where he wants you, attacking your mouth with his in a way that’s not really happened to you before. And that little breathy moan escapes once again when his teeth nip at your lip as he pulls away, immediately dipping to your neck to kiss and suck the delicate skin there, his hips pushing against yours with hunger.
You wonder what his hands would feel like wrapped around your neck, squeezing gently, or maybe not so gently. If his hands would just go that bit lower…if your hands just dipped beneath the hem of his shirt…down the sweatpants…
Buzz buzz.
Snapped out of this hot, heavy trance, Aemond steps back a little and you duck underneath his arm, not daring to look back at him at the fear you might stay and fuck up this entirely professional relationship. You desperately look at your phone, a missed call from Baela.
But that’s all the excuse you need, you hurriedly pack up your stuff, “S-sorry…I..” you start but with no vocabulary to actually finish. Your core is still spurring with delight with what you’ve just done, taking all the power from your brain.
Looking back briefly, he looks a bit dishevelled but still ridiculously too good, flushed in the face and his chest gently heaving, and with that ghost of a smile on his face. Not smug this time, to your delight.
“Um, sorry I have to go…thanks, Aemond” you excuse promptly. Even the very swift walk back to the car is a blur. It’s only when you’re in the driver’s seat, intensely gripping the steering wheel that it all slots into place.
Your fingers go to your lips and all the places his hands had touched you. They’re on fire. Begging for more. And you feel your breath in your lungs stutter at the memory of it. Aemond stands at his window, watching with acute amusement that you’re still sat there, absolutely dumbstruck by what’s happened.
Baela pings you in the wake of her missed call.
taglist (sorry if I missed anyone, I’m crap, bold means I couldn’t tag)
@mrsgrwy @lovelykhaleesiii@urmomsgirlfriend1@iiamthehybrid @namelesslosers @chainsawsangel @warmfieldofgrass @mynameisbaby9 @afro-hispwriter @tempo-rary-fix @toodlesxcuddles @definitelynotsatans @svtansdaddyx @tssf-imagines @darkenchantress @vrtualfairy @fan-goddess @skikikikiikhhjuuh @helaenaluvr @sarahkimtae @blackxisxmyxcolour @castellomargot @girlwith-thepearlearring @julczimozart @amazingdisneyfansblog @slutforaemond@thedamewithabook@Iiamthehybrid@sahvlren@Whoknows333@cosmoeticss
#aemond smut#aemond fanfic#aemomd fanfiction#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x y/n#aemomd x you#aemond x oc#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen fic#aemond targaryen smut#aemond stannies#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell characters#personaltrainer!aemond#no pain no gain#aemond#aemond fanfiction#aemond fic#aemond fandom#aemond x you#aemond x reader#modern!aemond targaryen x reader#modern!aemond x reader#modern!aemond targaryen#modern!aemond#modern!aemond smut#modern aemond
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Shining Force 2 Pre-release Coverage
Post on the first game here
Let’s continue our deep dive on old magazines. Again most of my info here are from the Beep! Megadrive magazine, but I did manage to find some footage from old Sega videos as well.
For context again, the game released in Japan on October 1993.
June 1993
Unlike the first game, which showed very few regions during pre release, this one is eager to show a bunch of new places, probably because it can’t generate hype about a unique battle system anymore. Bowie and a parade of peculiar placeholders take a good tour around the continent.
Save for the wall decoration and possibly the colors, it’s hard to judge on print, New Granseal’s castle is pretty much the final version. Same for Arc Valley's escher-like dungeon, as the magazine puts it.
Volcanon’s shrine is also here, and the magazine claims to have seen “a huge monster” on the top of the shrine, so Volcanon is likely already there as well. They wonder if it could be a boss but I think it’s just baseless speculation since it’s clearly not a battle scene, and little story was revealed at this point.
The monument looks wack, the shop signs are huge, and doors are different, but otherwise Hassan looks very close to the final version.
Bedoe is dark, that particular torch is also not in the final version, although there are torches in the town. Would be a pain in the ass to navigate, but might be just a test of the dark effect.
HQ already has the same vibe, but lots of different details, like different tables, cups and flowers vases on them, no stone walls, etc.
But enough of that, let’s stop pretending the Placeholder Force isn’t the wackiest and most amusing thing in these screenshots. What do we have there.
Bowie seems mostly complete, which makes sense as I’ll show in a second that his design was already announced. There are still a couple differences though, his clothes are blue instead of white and his cape has a golden line. His design might have been quickly revised at some point?
There’s a bunny girl NPC. Because of course the first thing these devs hopped to make was a bunny girl NPC. I’m actually more shocked that they did not keep her. Also I’m saying NPC with some certainty because as you can see comparing with Bowie, playable characters tend to have one less pixel between the eyes. So I don’t think she’s a scrapped character or anything.
Mae is here! Because of course it makes sense to use a character from the previous game as placeholder. As opposed to, you know, drawing a whole bunny girl. Her lower body was recolored to orange/yellow for some reason though.
There’s a wyvern sprite that does make it to the final game as an enemy. Curiously that shot of New Granseal shows more wyverns flying around as well. It makes no sense to use flying placeholders for the soldiers that should be there, so I wonder if there were supposed to be birds flying in the scenario or something, it would be neat.
There’s a cute little girl NPC with twintails who sadly didn’t make it. I don’t have anything to say about this.
Finally, true nerds like me fans of this blog will have certainly recognized the warrior sprite as an unused sprite from the first game:
From the side however, it was clearly edited, the helmet losing detail, getting shorter horns, and the whole guy getting shorter as well. My theory is that this guy was on the process of becoming this:
and maybe later Jaha, as this NPC is already very similar to him, and his design was already announced as well. In fact, that’s what we’ll talk about next. Besides these screenshots, there are four characters introduced in this article.
This kid is the protagonist!?
He is the protagonist who will represent you and travel through the world of Shining Force II. It seems he lives in the castle town of Granseal, but has no adventuring experience yet. From here on the both of you will have an exciting journey together!
The princess of Granseal!?
The princess of the country of Granseal, where the protagonist lives. She seems to be the main female character for Shining Force II. Her long hair and beautiful dress are nice. How will she get involved with the protagonist? We look forward to see it.
Jaha
“We’re the side characters!?“
Wielding a huge axe, he’s a bad influence for the protagonist, and a hobbit warrior. Just like the protagonist, he’s still in training and has no adventuring experience. Really bad at studying in school.
Slade
The greatest thief in Granseal. He shares the stolen treasures with poor people. Clearly a kind of Nezumi Kozo.
As the link above says, Nezumi Kozo (rat brat) is the nickname of a japanese thief who later became a kind of Robin Hood-esque folk hero as it was assumed he helped the poor as well with his crimes, and also apparently never hurt a victim. There’s an obvious inspiration here.
Producer Hiroyuki Takakashi doesn’t reveal much of the story at this point, only that it will be a different continent than the first game, and also have more events happening one after another unlike SF. He also says that there would be battles different than the army vs. army setting of SF. There are also talks of how certain details of the system and graphics were being reworked, and already talks of being able to choose between promotions, but it’s all very vague.
Later in this month, a demonstration of the game was presented at the Tokyo Toy Show. I couldn’t confirm it as there doesn’t seem to be a recording of it anywhere, but it’s likely a lot of the footage from here on is from that.
July 1993
Article opens up with an interview with the Takahashi brothers, but there’s not much to note. They mention being in the point of writing the game’s ending, and when asked about the presence of robots and such in the previous game, mention that while the Ancients are always a part of the Shining Series since SitD, this game would lean more into the fantasy vibes.
Also, up to this point, they had been working on both SF2 and Gaiden 2 at the same time. Gaiden 3 released in early July so from here on they’re free to focus on SF2. Or maybe not, because there’s already talks of a Gaiden 3 being planned. For better and for worse, these people could not stand still a second.
(To digress a bit, it’s also peculiar because the Final Conflict strategy guide mentions the game was originally planned for the Mega Drive. The Gaiden series was a Game Gear thing, so perhaps there was a whole different game being considered at this point which got shelved to make way for Final Conflict.)
Back to the topic, we get a few more screenshots with the Placeholder Force.
Most places seen like the final version, but this house/village in front of the ancient shrine was removed.
We then get pictures of what is likely a later build with more familiar characters being worked on.
The Caravan debuts, and we also finally get the first battle scenes.
Taros is already here as the most eye-catching part for the 90′s kids. I on the other hand am loving a lot more how the platform neatly informs you it is a test only. The UI also does not show the character’s class, even though it will in the final version.
And Luke is here! Except maybe not. His name onscreen says Nick. Obviously this could be an issue of them using the rename cheat, but that doesn’t happen for any other character in these pre release footages, and would be a bizarre move. It’s possibly a placeholder name derived from Sonic Co., (like Max is likely derived from Climax Entertainment, now you know). The interesting thing is that this sprite and its palettes in the final game don’t quite match Luke nor Skreech’s design, and Luke is also the only character to not get a sprite change upon promotion, so it’s easy to believe that was some delay or complication in finalizing these guys.
We also get a look at the Grans-Parmecia Shrine map, which is very much done as well. The monsters on the top however is frustrating me to no end because they look very familiar but I can’t remember where from. Anyway, definitely didn’t make it to this game at least.
We also get our first look at Sarah and Kazin, except Kazin is so cut off on this screen it’s not worth mentioning him now, there will be plenty of time to talk about Kazin later. Sarah on the other hand is easy to see, and she’s clearly not herself yet. Her outfit is what will become hers and Karna’s vicar outfit in the final version, but she also has a hat, which only the vicar battle sprite will have in the end.
It’s okay, she’s an important character so i’m sure they will sort this out in a timely manner. Anyway! We do see someone else there who is also from the starting gang and with a complete design. Chester’s design is indeed announced at this point, though with little character info. There’s also a small synopsis of the story by now, which is basically “Slade steals a treasure in the shrine and bad stuff begins to happen”. We then get a map of Parmecia.
I don’t think I’ve posted an official map of Parmecia before, so here it is for comparison. They do look pretty much the same already. Volcanon’s shrine is weirdly not marked in the map, but is mentioned in the text. Lemon and Creed’s names are mentioned as well.
August 1993
The article of this month explicitly mentions the Tokyo Toy Show so that’s nice for reference. While I couldn’t confirm it, by comparing the footage I also think this Sega video (the Shining Force part starts at the 6 minute mark) is from the same month, so I’ll be using footage from there as well.
The demo showed an early version of the jail cutscene with Slade. While the dialogue seems to be same as the final version, Sarah does not have her portrait nor her final sprite yet, and the other characters seem to be just following Bowie in line as opposed to having their own places in the cutscene. The old man NPC also has different colors, and there seems to be someone else in the room.
If you watch further in the footage you’ll see everyone keeps following Bowie, even hilariously clipping through walls at points. I’ve joked about it before but turns out I was right, they did put some good effort into coding the followers’ movement, because they might have intended to use it more, if not through the whole game.
Lemon’s sprite was not done at the time, and the event of the Galam army’s departure was likely simplified since the final version involves not only Lemon, but the king as well, who seems to have no placeholder here.
The Caravan scene is also shown, although using the dwarf village theme, and having Jaha instead of Peter. Given that it’s just one character as opposed to the big team you would have at this point, it’s possible he’s just standing in for Peter and not actually intended to be in the scene. The next one raises further questions though.
The Kraken scene is also shown, and the whole starting team is here. Slade’s text is very much in same vein as Oddler’s in the final version, warning everyone of the Kraken’s appearance, but it’s still different text, as Oddler speaks more politely, so this version was written for Slade himself, no placeholding.
It deeply hurts my heart to consider Slade was supposed to have a bigger role and got scrapped, though I feel I know why this happened. This series really likes to take its gameplay deaths seriously for some reason, and it would probably be too costly to constantly check which characters are alive and have alternate versions of a cutscene to adjust for that. That’s why the first game mostly has just Nova talking (though characters still show up for the ending at least). The Gaiden games go around this a bit more by reviving everyone at the start of every chapter and on endings, and also using characters who just joined the force in the cutscenes as they can’t have died already.
This game made Peter and Lemon, two immortal characters who carry most of the conversations from the moment they join alongside Astral. It also seems to delay some characters joining as playable characters for this reason. For example, Kazin is not playable through the path to Hawel’s house even though he’s following you, because he has to be alive for the cutscene there. Pretty much every instance of a character following you instead of joining the force seems to be because of this.
There are a few instances that show they might have considered other approaches though. There are numerous instances at the start of the game where characters revive automatically, since there’s a lot of dialogue with them. After the first battle, before the jail scene, upon leaving Grans Island, and during the one year timeskip. Of course, they all resurrect during the time Princess Elis is asleep in the ending as well. There’s also as far as I remember a single instance where you must have a particular character alive to progress, if Elric is dead he won’t open the passage to Creed’s mansion.
Of course, they might have felt that characters would have to be constantly revived for do more scenes with that, and it would ruin their game design, and it’s not intuitive to know that you must revive a particular someone to proceed, so they might just have scrapped this kind of plot. Still sucks given that it’s kind of a self imposed limitation, plenty of games just treat defeat in battle as different to death and let the characters take part in the story as needed. But alas, back on topic.
Plenty of other battle maps are shown, albeit with different enemies and different stats. A very minor detail is that the golem sprite has red eyes. In the final version they have green eyes except for Claude.
Sorcerer spells are in, although they don’t seem to be fully implemented yet, in the footage Kazin uses them through the attack command as opposed to an actual spell. Perhaps because of that it is also single target.
Speaking of Kazin, I did say we have to talk about him, now’s the time.
His sprite seems to be much like the final one, but blue. It is possible there are small differences though, because his staff, not in the final version, seems to use at least three colors besides black and white, when all final weapons in the game use only two. This is because the game loads the character and weapon colors into a single 16 color palette, so to have more colors in one you sacrifice colors of the other. Weapons in the first game did have three colors so this might be a leftover.
Small details for big nerds though, as I said the design is pretty much complete, including details like the bag and the feathers he carries around, which are less generic than I’d expect for a placeholder. Perhaps he already had a tentative design floating around.
More than that, the map sprite seen in all these pictures did make it to the final game. As his sorcerer sprite.
It looks nothing like the sorcerer design, so it’s easy to accept it was designed for something else. Let’s compare with the final mage sprite.
Hair changed to be spiky, but everything else is basically the same, including the green staff which matches his final artwork. It’s likely he had some concept art already around, though it wasn’t officially revealed so perhaps there was some intention of changing it. But it’s noticeable that he shows up in plenty of footage while nothing is seen of Sarah, who is not finalized either. He was at least further in the development.
The color thing is also interesting. Kazin does get to be blue as sorcerer, and also as wizard... in the map, and the game’s cover, a rare case of official illustration of a promotion. In battle however his sprite is brown. That palette, though? Is the last one set for the wizard sprite, even though he should be the first wizard. And the first palette for it? That’s right, blue. In the final version it is used for Chaz, who does have the exact same clothes but is the last wizard in the game. It would not surprise me if there was a swap at some point. And of course it makes sense to not use two blue palettes for the same sprite. The question is, why design the characters with the same colors then? I would love to get an answer.
September 1993
Signs of progress, every picture is this article is from a different build, since character classes now show up in the UI.
Sarah still does not have her map sprite.
Her battle sprite and finished design do finally show up in the next pages though, so they might have just not got to it at the time, even if it feels silly to me as map sprites are simpler, perhaps exactly because of that they weren’t top priority. Either way, it just feels wild to me when compared to how Chester and Jaha and even Kazin seem to have been done.
As for the actual point of the picture, that’s Bowie casting Freeze level 4. Normally I’d chalk this up to debugging shenanigans, as the first game and Gaiden I as well give the heroes extra spells in debug mode, but, that generally also comes with jacked stats including 99 MP. Bowie here is at max unpromoted level but his stats look normal.
For further consideration here’s another screenshot of him at level 4 knowing Egress and Blaze level 1. Everyone’s stats look normal so this looks like his actual intended progression. Also while drafting this post and having it blasted to oblivion because tumblr can’t save properly apparently, I realized this explains a bit of the wackiness when it comes to magic progression in this game. Did you know that the Kraken is weak to ice? Have fun trying to exploit that weakness. In the final game, you go a big stretch of the game without access to Freeze. If you promote Kazin to wizard and don’t pick Tyrin at Creed’s, you’re basically locked out of ice spells for most of the game, until you finally find Chaz. That always struck me as very weird, and I’m realizing now it might be because they might have stuck with magical Bowie here for a good time, and didn’t rebalance things when changing it.
Sarah debuts with a proper sprite for once.
Blue Kazin however remains undeterred. You might also notice his staff is switching colors weirdly during animation. I’ve had this problem on my first hacking attempts of the game due to not setting up proper Mega Drive colors, and it’s amusing me to no end that it happened to the actual devs as well. Though I don’t know that much on how animations are done so the problem might have a different origin as well. Anyway, fun.
We also get to see Kazin’s full spell list, and while mostly the same, he has the Attack spell instead of Desoul, much like Tao was the only wizard to have it in the first game. In the final version, only Frayja learns this spell, making this the only classic Shining Force game where it is a priest spell instead of a mage one, so it doesn’t surprise me at all that Kazin was meant to have it.
It’s also worth noting that in the final game, Kazin is the only character who learns Desoul. Either the spell wasn’t in (the article mentions every other wizard and priest spell except for it), or someone else was meant to learn it, or they hadn’t even planned that far ahead.
We get our first character bios in a long time.
Protagonist - Bowie
A boy who lives in the castle town of Granseal. He used to be a mischievous boy, but nowadays is well behaved (?) and studying hard as Astral’s pupil. He’s friends with Jaha and Chester, and they play together almost every day.
The thief Slade
The self proclaimed great thief of justice. But he’s not much of a bad guy, and shares his stolen treasures with poor people. He seems to main culprit behind the story’s beginning!?
Warrior Jaha
Bowie’s friend, and a hobbit who hates studying the most out of all of Astral’s pupils. Really strong in battle.
The knight Chester
Bowie’s friend, and another pupil of Astral’s, but while he’s a gallant centaur, his one flaw is that he’s not very assertive. He often comes up as just a yes-man to Bowie. Don’t you have friends like that too? Treat him well.
Priest Sarah
An elf girl and also Astral’s pupil. She’s helpful and likes taking care of others, being kind of a big sister to Bowie and the others. Pulling out that sisterly authority at times, she might be kind of annoying?
Sometimes I wonder if Sarah went through some kind of rewrite during development since none of her official descriptions bring up her being the actual mischievous kid who plans to sneak into the castle and is not even apologetic about it, but then I remember that this series is uhhhh, ah, erm, oof, hmmmm, about women, so yeah, I don’t think that’s what’s going on here.
Sage Astral
Currently retired, he has now taken Bowie and the other kids as pupils. He’s also a notable person who knows the king personally. At the story’s beginning, he berates these troublesome kids while also giving them a chance to go on the adventure.
Sheela
A mysterious and beautiful human girl. She used to train under Astral, but left for some reason. While she doesn’t have much relation with the story, we look forward to see just how will she and Bowie meet. She’s quite sexy!!
King Granseal
King of the country of Granseal at the south of Grans Island. Bowie and the others live in its castle town. Because the queen passed away too soon, he dotes a lot on Princess Elis. Ooh.
Princess Granseal
The princess of Granseal, she’s a happy girl loved by the king and her people. We’re quite curious to know how she’ll be connected to the heroes. Maybe in the end she’ll be a party member!?
OOF
Kiwi
A new character appears!
The green turtle Kiwi is the mascot-like character this time. Of course he can take part in battles, but he’s not very strong. But he seems to hide some special talent!? What exactly is still a secret for now. He’s kind of cute, maybe.
-The previous game had Yogurt, of famous sayings (?) like “do you like my helmet” and “I don’t get it”.
After the magazine, we get more Sega footage (starts around the 4:45 mark).
The intro seems pretty much done, except for a Gizmo attacking the king instead of Geshp. And it’s easy to think “oh it’s a placeholder”, but in the final version the king is really possessed by a Gizmo and Geshp doesn’t show up until much later, so I’m not sure? It’s not a very important change at least.
Sarah finally has her final sprite and portrait, so this is a different build. This does mean I can finally go bully the final graphics of this game a bit more.
Sarah’s final priest sprite is not based on her artwork, and is instead just a recolor of the vicar spritesheet, which as I mentioned, is from the placeholder sprite we’ve seen all this time. You can even notice some leftover grey shading that doesn’t quite fit with the blue. Compare it with Blue Kazin’s robes that I’ve posted earlier, which use only the two shades of blue in the palette.
This sprite was a massive rush job, is what I’m saying. A lot of map sprites in this game feel the same, learning how to edit graphics is both a blessing and a curse because you can’t unsee these things.
This footage shows up a lot of final battle sprites not seen until now, especially promotions, like Wolf Baron Gerhalt, Hero Bowie, and so on. I find it hilarious that it also brings up Kiwi when everywhere else they were trying to be coy about Kiwi’s promotion.
The weird thing though, is that the footage ends with the sorcerer spell display from the old builds. Did they not have footage of the final sorcerer graphics? Likely. Let’s bully the final graphics some more.
No fingers! Misplaced weapon! His ass was not designed in a sane and timely fashion!
So yes it is fully possible that the sorcerer sprite was not done even as the game was already like halfway through the door.
The funniest part? In this later build footage we only get a vague glimpse of Kazin.
I’m sorry the screenshot is horrible since it goes by fast, but that’s Blue Kazin.
Of course, most characters in the scene seem to be promoted, even special promotions like Brass Gunner Elric. At the same time May and Slade remain unpromoted. So is this Blue Kazin already repurposed as the sorcerer sprite? Or is the mage sprite still not done?
We might never know the truth, but the fact is that the pre release coverage ends here, and we didn’t get a single glimpse of his final artwork. In a sense he might have been a bigger mess than Sarah.
I have more to write but tumblr has already messed up this draft four to five times and I’m tired, so I’m splitting this into two posts even though i didn’t want it just to see if the problem is post size.
#shining force#shining force 2#shining series#sf2 bowie#sf2 jippo slade#sf2 jaha#sf2 huey chester#sf2 kazin#sf2 sarah#this was fun to research but tumblr is making me want to kill something very hard not gonna lie
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Adventures on a public Conan Exiles server, day four
Technically this one is two sessions, but the first one wasn't long enough to warrant its own post.
Anyway last night I hopped on for a quick iron run, and on the way I ran into two asshole NPCs: some nameless dancer guy, and a rather unfriendly lady named Frigga Falsehope.
Frigga in particular gave me quite a thrashing, and I wasn't going to let such an injustice stand. So I ran home, busted out my bow and arrows, and...
Normally I'm not in favor of topless busty redheads being shot with arrows so hard they tear in half at the waist, but Miss Falsehope's rudeness was simply inexcusable. Perhaps when she spawns elsewhere on the map she'll have learned some manners from this ordeal.
Anyway, while I was teaching these two ne'er-do-wells some manners, I was able to complete my Sharpshooter journey, which meant I could unlock the powerful Hyrkanian bow!
Unfortunately I needed thick leather to make it, and I didn't have any. I knew there were some reptilian monstrosities nearby that would drop thick hide, with which I could then make thick leather, but after wasting like half my arrows on one of those fuckers and getting nowhere I decided to look elsewhere. (One thing I don't like about this game is how obnoxiously bulletspongey some of the enemies are.)
Fortunately gorillas also drop thick hide, and there's always a bunch of those in Xel-ha.
So I started traveling northeast to the Forgotten City of Xel-ha, mostly along the river because so many jungle enemies are a pain in the ass at my level.
Yeah, go find someone else to devour, you legless prick.
Before long I was at the Xel-ha Docks, with two gorillas just waiting to be skinned.
...Problem was, I was too low level to do enough damage with my poniards and short sword before they killed me, so I had to retreat, whip up a bow and some arrows, and cheese the bastards.
I made over a hundred arrows and I'd burned through all of them before the end, but eventually I managed to kill the two gorillas. So, standing triumphant on the docks, I pulled out my trusty skinning knife and harvested...
...Six thick hide. With which I can make six thick leather.
The powerful Hyrkanian bow takes twenty thick leather. COOOOOOOL.
By that time I was feeling pretty tired, so I logged out and went to bed. What do you want from me, I'm turning forty this year.
By the time I logged back in, I had a plan. I knew where I could definitely get some thick leather. Would I get enough? Who knows. But it would beat hunting gorillas and reptilian monstrosities. So I started heading west.
Yep, this is a public server, alright.
When traveling on foot in this game, you must always play this track in your head.
Eventually I arrived at my destination: the swimming ghost who gets shot by a ghost crossbow and ghost drowns, causing a non-ghost treasure chest to rise from the riverbed. Like a fucking idiot, I did not screenshot this. But I did get fourteen thick leather. Enough to make my new bow! Then, while I was in the neighborhood, I decided to continue traveling along the river and pick up some journal pages and emotes.
Some people just have no sense of style.
On my travels I encountered one of those new bloodstone rocknoses, so now I have some blood crystal!
Then, finally, it was time to head back home. I'd advanced a few levels and I was getting uncomfortably close to encumbrance, so I headed east back towards the jungle.
And then...
Aw yeah, can't wait to do slightly more damage with this bad boy.
Also, since I was now leveled up enough to make the awnings for the Flotsam building set (but not for any of the other styles, which I can't unlock for another twenty levels...god the way Funcom decided to handle the awnings in this game is fucking stupid), I replaced the roof pieces covering my porch.
Much better.
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nutritional facts of spinach: an atsushi analysis
i tried for days to think of a better title and i couldnt so y’all are just gonna have to live with this one
I initially wrote this Atsushi analysis for an RP application. The chat told me I should adapt it for the fandom on Tumblr and post it here, and I think they’re right because I’m always saying that Atsushi’s an interesting and complex character, not average/boring/whatever, so at some point I need to explain what I mean. The analysis itself doesn’t have a thesis, it’s just talking about what Atsushi’s like as a person, but maybe people will be interested anyway?
There are some canons where most people are so strange that if someone so much as approaches normalcy, even if they fall short, they stand out. In Boueibu, that person is Atsushi.
To put it simply, Atsushi is just a nice Japanese boy from a good family. He's the most genuinely polite member of the main cast. His life's ambition is to have a calm, conflict-free existence and take care of his friends. If he's more than he seems, it's not by his choice, and he would take the lovracelet off his wrist if he could. He didn't ask to be a magical boy. In fact, he rejected the offer, for all the good it did. He's not interested. It's too much responsibility.
Atsushi's most important distinguishing feature is probably his gentleness. He's kind and concerned about others, whether they're friends or total strangers. He tries to see things from others' perspective, or at least understand that they have a perspective, even when those others have wronged him or the people he cares about.
He's almost too forgiving, judging from the way he immediately forgives Kinshirou for trying to murder him and Yumoto. Indeed, he asks hopefully if Kinshirou will be his friend again. He does have an occasional tendency to surprise you with smartass comebacks and clever put-downs, but it's never anything too serious, and if he does accidentally go too far, he feels bad and tries to fix things.
He’s not all sweetness and light, all the time. He switches his chair with En's because his is wobbly, for example, and he has significantly less sympathy or concern for Wombat, who's caused him a lot of pain and inconvenience. He can get snappish when annoyed. But, on the whole, he's a kind person who cares about those around him.
Because he's so caring (and well-adjusted and normal, compared to the others), his role in the group is the long-suffering mom friend. He keeps the group together, makes sure everyone is comfortable, and scolds people, when necessary.
Just a few examples:
He gets outright stressed when En won't let him help make his own birthday cake.
His entire second image song is about how tiring it is being everyone's mom friend, keeping them all together and making sure they're acting at least kind of socially acceptable.
Even though he gives En a hard time about his laziness, he still comes to pick him up in the mornings, probably not always, but on a regular basis.
That last example says a lot, especially when considered in relation to his history. Kinshirou was a high-maintenance friend in his own way, although his demands were more emotional. He seems to have been the type to need a lot of reassurance about their friendship, and he would have taken the news that Atsushi was getting curry so badly that Atsushi didn’t even feel like he could tell him. And when he left, Atsushi immediately attached himself to En, who, frankly, wouldn't do much of anything without someone there to prod him into it. Of course, En was there when Kinshirou stopped talking to Atsushi, a new friend already being supportive.
But there was more to it than that. En needs Atsushi, and Atsushi needs to be needed.
That's not to say that Atsushi doesn't care about En or enjoy his company. Left to his own devices, Atsushi tends to be serious and perhaps too prone to worrying. En's laid-back attitude and frequent digressions into random, pointless conversations amuse him and help him relax. If En suddenly became more independent, Atsushi would feel lost, but he wouldn't want to be En's friend any less.
He does have the same lazy, slightly selfish streak as the rest of the Defense Club, minus Yumoto. None of them have any interest at all in fighting monsters. They didn't volunteer, so it seems unfair to expect enthusiasm, especially from En and Atsushi who explicitly refused Wombat's offer more than once. Still, even if they don't enjoy fighting, they know that the monsters are real people, often their fellow students, that have been transformed. They could at least want to help those people out, or, if not that, prevent the damage the monsters often cause. Instead, by season 2, they are completely done with the whole situation and want to avoid fighting entirely if they can get away with it.
This comes back to bite them when they're willing to fight for Goura, but the Beppus have given up on battling it out and moved on to a new, more dangerous plan. But at least that shows that they'll make the effort when it's someone they personally know and care about.
The third drama CD is similar in spirit. Atsushi, as well as all the others except Yumoto, is completely willing to throw anyone else under the bus if it means he doesn't have to serve as the president of the Defense Club. This is a manifestation of the same impulse that made the four of them find a small, remote room and hide in it during club activities to begin with. All of them, including Atsushi, want to spend their free time relaxing and doing their own thing.
People make a few references to a possible hidden “dark side” of Atsushi’s throughout canon. All jokes about sadism aside, there are some aspects of himself that haunt him and make him unhappy, a quiet darkness that conflicts with the calm, essentially happy manner that he tries to portray.
As a child, Atsushi was cheerful, open, and relaxed. He stood in sharp contrast to Kinshirou, who wore suspenders as a tiny child and worried about seeming childish while still in elementary school. In the flashbacks, Atsushi is open with his affection and excitement.
However, as a teenager, he's become more reserved. It's harder for him to express his emotions. Although he himself is polite and friendly, his body language tends toward the closed and unwelcoming. He crosses his arms over his chest...
...and he puts a hand to his chin when he thinks, which has the same effect of placing a barrier between him and whoever he's talking to.
Even when he's clearly unhappy or preoccupied, he tries to smile anyway and act like he's fine. And he doesn't like any of this. He feels like it's a character flaw. His first image song is about how insecure and guilty it all makes him feel.
He struggles, as well, with confrontation. When Kinshirou refused to talk to him in middle school, En urged him to talk it out, but Atsushi said he'd rather let Kinshirou have some space. That space grew into years of bitter silence and hesitant, awkward attempts at small talk. In season 1, episode 8, history seems to repeat itself when his best friend once again gets mad at him for no reason that he can see. The first time En runs away, he follows, attempting to learn from past mistakes, but as soon as En tells him to fuck off, he gives up.
It's not a stretch to think that during episode 8 Atsushi wonders what's wrong with him, that his best friends all decide after a few years that he sucks. Luckily, the situation gets sorted quickly, and in the season finale, he takes a more active role in his reconciliation with Kinshirou. (It was a step in the right direction when he got angry at the monster in episode 8, but in the finale, he actually talks about things with Kinshirou.) Still, those two fights highlight Atsushi's biggest weakness. When it comes to the big things, he's too gentle. He makes it a fault. He has such a hard time dealing with confrontation that he'll let his friendships be destroyed first.
He's also insecure in some areas. As I mentioned, he thinks he's too cold and closed off. He also thinks he's kind of boring.
Because he thinks his company isn't interesting or emotionally rewarding, it's likely that he doesn't understand his value outside the role he's given himself as a caretaker. It doesn't cause him too much angst, because he is in a caretaker role and his personality is fundamentally not that angsty, but the thought is still there, in the back of his mind. This is probably partly or entirely why he needs to be needed like he does.
However, now that he and Kinshirou are friends again, a lot of the sadness from season 1 is starting to fade. The two of them are still awkward with each other and don't quite know how to act after so long apart, but Atsushi is happy to have him back and he's determined not to mess it up this time. Regaining Kinshirou’s friendship has helped him learn to be more assertive, less inclined to just let bad things happen. ...But the day before he goes to all that effort to see Kinshirou off at the airport, he does this:
So he's still pretty nervous about conflict.
He can get kind of annoyed with En or impatient with Yumoto, but he rarely gets truly angry. It happens in episode 8 when En is yelling at him and being completely unfair, and later, when he confronts the monster that's made En like that.
It happens again when Kinshirou is smashing up the school to try to kill him.
And that's pretty much it for genuine anger from Atsushi in the anime; even in season 2′s climactic episodes, he doesn’t show as much of it. When he is angry, though, it can be startling how intense he becomes and, given his usual demeanor, how unwilling he is to back down. Even so, he stays on topic in arguments and doesn't try to hurt the other party, even when the opportunity presents itself.
It's because of things like that, as well as his politeness and general normalcy, that he has some of the most mature behavior among all the main cast. Arima is the only one who might have him beat. As another sign of his maturity, he gets very good grades due to study and diligence, as opposed to En, who usually gets mediocre grades but occasionally surprises everyone with a streak of 100s based on (he claims) excellent guesswork.
He’s clever, too. He doesn't think quite as quickly as En in the moment, but his grades are the second best in his year, and he has a good memory, where En often does not. Because of his memory, an intellectual strength of his is synthesizing information.
Despite that, he can be a little credulous sometimes. For the most part, it shows up when Kinshirou is there to serve as a counterpoint.
And even though he’s smart and often reaches the right conclusions, there are times where he comes up with some very unusual theories.
That naiveté might be a result of his upbringing: He's from a rich family, although not an obscenely wealthy one. He seems to have a good home life, because instead of being snobby or cruel, he's just sweet and, as mentioned, a little naive. Even after the events of the show, he thinks the world is basically a kind place. After all, nothing disastrous happened in the end, right? He talks about his sister, both in the stargazing flashback and in the game, and he mentions that the reason his family bought their very fancy TV is because his dad wanted it. (But he doesn't use it much, because he has another one in his room.) Also in support of the idea that he has responsible parents, or at least parents without unlimited funds: He's expected to go to college and become independent, instead of living off their money forever. On the other hand, he's also under the impression that most people go to college...
...which suggests that he's somewhat sheltered. He doesn't know yet what he wants to do with his life, so right now he intends to just go to college and hope something presents itself.
He's image-conscious, and doesn't enjoy drawing attention to himself. He finds the Battle Lover uniforms and scripted lines extremely embarrassing. There are others in the cast who are more easily embarrassed, for sure, but it's still not hard to make him feel awkward or self-conscious. In particular, it's possible that he's self-conscious about being too skinny: En tells him he is twice in season 1, and then in season 2, he's seen weighing himself after a bath.
He's also a pretty bad actor.
He enjoys reading, jigsaw puzzles, baths, anime, and video games. In other words, he enjoys calm, relaxing indoor hobbies with a playful or escapist feel. According to the fanbook, he hates needles. He knows a whole lot about anime, particularly older shounen and sentai shows.
That’s all for this analysis. Thank you for reading about Atsushi :D and as always, please comment with whatever you want!!
#boueibu#atsushi kinugawa#kinugawa atsushi#binan koukou chikyuu bouei bu love!#does anyone check that tag that doesnt also check the boueibu tag tho#my post#boueibu meta#i spent hours tumblrifying this post ugh#the screenshots in particular were a pain in the ass
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[image description: a proof of a font of handset type for letterpress printing, displaying every letter, symbol, and special character in the font. it's called "Sixteenth Century Roman," 24 pt., and is a rough-edged serif font with a deliberately worn look. end description.]
hello hello i am return from a deep dive into several reference materials that assumed a little bit more knowledge about how Medieval Latin works than i actually have, but, it was all exTREMEly inch resting to me. i am absolutely not a historian but here we are, a speedrun of my pinballing around trying to ensure that I know what the fuck im storing in my type corridor:
so 16th Cent. Roman, i already knew, was a font Paul Duensing designed based on this incomplete set of old Italian punches he acquired (punches, the first step of old school typecasting, where you carve the relief letter shape into the end of a stick of steel, and you uuuh punch that into the copper matrix, which is then the negative mould-shape you use to cast multiple copies of the lead sorts with hot metal; surviving punches are precious artifacts not the least because they are. they’re hand-carved!! often by the type designer themselves. historical and also wildly cool craftsmanship). these punches were all beat up and probably water damaged, fucky and rough-edged, so he re-did and filled in the gaps in the alphabet with similarly styled letters of his own. very cool. an extremely nerdy lil passion project of a typecaster in the 1960s, very typical of type people. we all find a Thing to obsess over, and sometimes it's reviving an incomplete set of punches from the 1500s that you found in, idk, it's usually a bucket in somebody's basement.
anyway it's got a bunch of ligatures and the long s, sure sure sure, but WHAT are all these gibberish characters with tildas and lines thru the stems of ps and qs and such—
Duensing's full font is in Mac McGrew's specimen book, great, i have that, except McGrew's book has complete proofs and a little bit of history for each font but doesn't always cover what each symbol in a unique alphabet is for, and i knew just enough about Latin to guess that they were abbreviations but not what each of them stood for. a little bit of searching got me this far, which is to say, "Abbreviation in Medieval Latin Paleography," a translation of an Italian essay on the subject from 1929. It is prefaced by the translators with gems like: "Take a foreign language, write it in an unfamiliar script, abbreviating every third word, and you have the compound puzzle that is the medieval Latin manuscript." Scribes writing in medieval Latin just tossed out letters they didn't care to deal with, constantly, and had stand-in special characters and abbreviations for syllables/words/particles and there were intuitive rules but way too many variations in time and place and person to make a reasonably-sized, static lexicon. amazing. hope all u paleographers are having fun over there.
the essay has a great big glossary of truncations and abbreviations and so on which clearly cover most of the figures in Duensing's font:
[image description: screenshots of the essay, with various symbols and the Latin syllables they abbreviated. an m with a bar over it, ex., stood in for men or mun. end description.]
ok! BUT this q with a little swoop off the end kept bugging me!! for all these dead-use symbols this essay is using handwritten samples, obviously, and there's clearly variation in execution and also typographers take liberties, and i just thought, sure my piece of type looks a lot like the quod here but it does link the staff to the swoop where the handwritten sample doesn't, and it could just as well be a fanciful ligature for qn which apparently can stand in for quando, and i have no idea which is a more common-use syllable likely to be cast in the font if you're only going to pick your top 14, and i just like to be sure about things.
SO. i went to double-check with Johnson’s Typographia. Johnson made like a thousand pages of printing manuals set in tiny tiny type in the 1820s which are rad as hell and tell you all sorts of things about how to run a shop and build your own press and cast type and going rates for work and employment and also, the alphabets/type case layout for whatever language or symbol set you might have to set type in, when handsetting type was mostly the only way to get stuff printed—English, Arabic, Chinese, Hebrew, musical notation, astronomical signs, aaaand it’s got a section for "Marks & characters used in the Domesday Book & other ancient records.”
[image description: a photo of a page of the manual, with similar but not always identical symbols for abbreviated use. many of these abbreviations are described as "a Domesday contraction." end description.]
and WHAT is a Domesday contraction, WELL, it's a contraction specifically from/prevalent in the Domesday book, a deeply boring and historically important tome about property distribution in England. It’s literally a survey. who owned what, in 1086. presumably mind-numbing. enormous, handwritten in Medieval Latin, EXTREMELY cool, go look at some images of it at least, very important to historians, economists, linguists, and a complete pain in the ass to set in type when that technology became available, having to cast any significant proportion of these variant characters in an alphabet. Johnson says, (in 1824) “It is an improvement of latter years only*, to have type cast to resemble the abbreviations used in the more ancient manuscripts; they being formerly rudely imitated, either from a common fount, or else were cut in wood for the purposes of any particular work.” wow that sucks. but in 1773 the government really wanted to be able to reproduce the Domesday Book in type, so a couple people tried to cut a set of punches for Domesday abbreviations and Joseph Jackson got it done and it only took 10 years to print an edited version of the manuscript. and then apparently all the type was destroyed in a fire in 1808. WOW that sucks.
but the point is, Johnson has a great big glossary of characters as they were translated into type in the making of the printed Domesday Book, and the Domesday punches were used or refrenced in the printing of other medieval latin works, which consequences a degree of standardization in the abbreviations used in those versions of the text that handwritten manuscripts never had or needed.
notably the Domesday quod looks even more different from my piece of type here which was pretty annoying, so what are the chances this thing is a quando, and anyway that's when my sister texted me back with better computer skills and a different search engine and found me a perfect match on the first try. it’s a quod. this National Diet Library digital exhibition has several different sample fonts, both black letter and roman, with quite consistent letter forms, if not choices about which abbreviations to bother casting.
*I don’t……exactly know what he means by this, since Gutenberg and contemporaries absolutely did cast many Medieval Latin abbreviations for their fonts nearly 400 years before this. His dismissal of “from a common fount” might be fair, since i think what he means by it is that you’d have a generic set of abbreviation characters which you would have to use in conjunction with whatever font was the main body of your text, and it’s messy to mix things that weren’t designed specifically to match. he may just mean that it’s new for his contemporary foundries to be casting all these expanded alphabets of abbreviations; Gutenberg didn’t have foundries to buy from and made his own type. he could include as many characters as he had the patience for. maybe Johnson is just a guy from the 1800s that didn’t have the internet and i shouldn’t jump down his throat for not knowing something. idk!! i have homework.
anyway that was my Friday!! feel free to correct me and/or suggest further reading if early typecasting is your Thing or. again. you just have better googling than me.
#letterpress#letterpress printing#handset type#lead type#typography#long post#:(( sorry#omitted: Johnson's scathing opinions on Almanacks and the people who read them#and ask you to typeset them#'''''the credulity of the vulgar''''''' alRIGHT bud#i guess if he was willing to set that whole paragraph in 8 pt.#or pay for it#it was at least an opinion he believed in very strongly.
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Paint My Spirit Gold
Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow
Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.
AO3 Link: [here]
Word Count: 2187
Warnings: n/a
@dukeceitweek <3
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[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]
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A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence.
“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.
“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”
Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.
“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”
Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.
The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.
“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”
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[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]
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“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”
The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick
“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”
Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos.
“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.”
And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him.
“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”
Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment.
He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table. He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop.
'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock.
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[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]
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Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really.
He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in.
“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”
He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”
Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?
“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”
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[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:
“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit.
Starstruck96: who?
IneffableSnek: lmao
FeralBeauYasha: lol
VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill.
FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?
IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf
FeralBeauYasha: ohh
VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom.
StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch
IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean
IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s
FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too
VampSuga: DUKECEIT” /end ID]
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"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin.
"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."
Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”
Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left.
“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”
Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.
“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.
“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”
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[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]
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DukeceitStan
first and only dukeceit shipper ig
DukeceitStan
wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!
DukeceitStan
i want this to be canon so bad omg
DukeceitStan
i mean just look
[image]
how
[image]
cute
[image]
[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.
The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left.
The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand.
The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]
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“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”
“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”
“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”
“You should try harder.”
“Come to bed and maybe I will.”
“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”
“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”
“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”
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[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID]
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Nightcall P.1
Request/Summary: Kurt is obsessive over a model and kidnaps her, taking her along for the ride of the night.
After
The flurry of phones ringing off the hook and background noise felt foreign to you, it was just a buzzing in your ear. You pulled the safety blanket around you closer, grabbing it in fistfuls. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, but it feels like hours. The fluorescent in the room probably only made you look even worse for wear than you were hours before, but it didn’t matter now. In a span of 24 hours, your life had changed.
The guarded door opened and an officer pulled up a chair in front of you, dropping photos of the gruesome scene you’d seen firsthand. She slides the photos closer, her thumb obscuring the killer’s face. You didn’t need to see it a second time.
“You were found in the residence of Mr. Kunkle, with one Jessie Adams and a John Doe, who seems to have been the victim of Mr. Kunkle’s spree amongst others.”
Even his name brings chills down your spine.
“I already told the police everything.” You say groggily, your throat still sore from the whole ordeal.
“Yes, but there seems to be some doubt on your partnership with Mr. Kunkle. Footage, eyewitness accounts,” she’s studying you no doubt. Any sort of tick or movement you made without thought that could somehow lead her to think you were lying about anything you had explained earlier.
“What was your relationship with Mr. Kunkle?” She pries, bringing multiple photos of Kurt to be splayed out in front of you. Some good, some bad, some….disturbing.
“I - none. He just knew me through the socials.”
“And you were also the target of his mania.” There’s something unsettling in how much she’s liking interrogating you. You ignore it.
“You think it’s my fault he did this.”
It was not your fault. None of this was. Kurt was just too power hungry. Maybe you were too trusting. You didn’t want to see Kurt for what he really was until it was too late.
“I’m not saying it’s your fault, but your compliance does seem suspicious.”
“I-I didn’t know him very well. He was just my Spree driver for a day. But he was always nice to me.”
“He was also your kidnapper.”
“Like I said, he was a nice guy.” Your voice breaks.
They’re all nice guys until they aren’t.
“And you didn’t think to call the authorities when you were alone? Were you helping him lure these people?”
You can feel her eyes burning into you.
“I’m not stupid,” you cry. “I know how this sounds. But I’m telling you, he gave me a ride and then he - all of this. Oh God.”
You bring your shaky hands to run through your worn and tired face, specks of dried blood still prominent even through many washes with soap. It’s another way Kurt managed to stay with you.
“Let’s start at the beginning,” she sits back with her arms folded. “And spare no detail.”
Before
He scrolls through your feed for the millionth time today.
Photos of you on your daily walks, exploring hidden LA gems, posting places you were shooting at, people you were hanging out with, all at the touch of a button for him. The bell notification alerts him, telling him that you’ve posted. He taps the screen in the blink of an eye, meeting your face as you giggle about falling while skating.
You pout as you show the damage, remarking that it was lucky you weren’t shooting that day otherwise you would’ve had to cover up on such a hot day.
In a vain industry, you try to keep yourself humble and that’s what he loves about you. Though he’s never met you, he thinks you could live up to the image he’s created of you. One that matches your optimistic and humorous one.
He re watches your story, pausing at random moments where he screenshots and saves to his photos. His home screen is a shot of you in black and white, seemingly topless from chest down and looking back with an enticing smile. He loves the way your hair frames your face, the way pieces of it were meticulously picked out to give it a sort of messy look.
You could make anything look good, he thinks.
Bobby gives him a hard time about you, bragging about how he knows you and that although you’re more well known than he is, you are the one who should be grateful for his exposure.
Kurt thinks it’s bullshit but he wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, maybe you’d come around to meet him one day.
The vibration of a text brings him out of his daze, seeing Bobby’s name in big bold letters.
He can’t believe his eyes when he opens the text. It’s an off guard video of you behind Bobby, giggling at something on your phone before noticing that he’s recording and flashing a cheeky smile and a peace sign.
“Found your girlfriend.” Bobby mocks before erupting into hysterical laughter.
Kurt replays it until his phone dies, Bobby’s words echoing in his head.
An idea pops into his head, it would be difficult if he didn’t know your exact routine but thanks to your fan accounts and the power of gossip blogs, it’s a definite success.
He calls Bobby immediately, hearing him and his entourage in the background as they talked about a video idea.
“What do you want, Kurt? I’m busy right now.” His annoyance is clear but Kurt is way too focused on you to notice.
“I need a favor.”
It’s amazing what the internet contains about a person. It’s also quite terrifying. Through just a few minutes of research, he’s found out your schedule along with where you went to school, where you live and your closest friends.
In a photo Bobby had taken, the location of the next shoot you had taking place somewhere was barely visible.
He connects the dots, thinking about how your involvement could help him get #TheLesson out and make him a household name.
And it’s exactly what he does the day of. He parks near your neighborhood, foot bouncing and anxiously looking at his phone. He declines the others in hopes of finding you according to the schedule. You almost never use your real name on anything when going out but he recognizes your fake name and location, he puts the car into drive and talks himself up.
He parks across the street, giving him a better view of you.
His heart skitters when he sees you look in his direction, your brows quirk up as you give him an easy smile and cross carefully.
You stop and bend to meet him at the passenger window, “Kurt, right?”
His name coming out of your mouth is something he’s dreamed of since he first saw you. He almost pinches himself to know if this is real.
He knows he’s grinning like an idiot because you laugh at his speechlessness.
“Sorry,” he motions to the backseat, “Hop in!”
“I take it you know who I am.”
You’re not oblivious to your recognition, but with some guys it was just always a hit or miss. They either wanted you to take your top off or asked for some weird things.
“Are you kidding? I’m like your biggest fan.” He beams, going back on the road.
You’re not good at accepting compliments, so all you can manage is a shy smile and a, “Thanks!”
You notice his set up of cameras and ask him about it, to which he says they’re just for protection. Throughout the ride you learn more about him, particularly that he was going something the next day called The Lesson. He had a very particular view about this digital world you both lived in, talking about these odd jobs he’d been doing along with trying to build up his following. In between talking about himself, he mentions Bobby and the events of last night from the video.
“Oh right, Bobby.” You roll your eyes at the mention of his name.
Bobby was a pain in your ass sometimes, acting all high and mighty all the time and just like he was the overall shit.
“Yeah he’s alright. He could just tone it down a little.”
“Oh yeah - definitely, he was the same when he was a kid. Just pure chaotic energy.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
In between other conversations, Kurt brought back the spotlight to you, asking you about different people you hung out with. It was pleasant conversation, you felt like you were talking to an old friend and letting off some steam. The red flags hadn’t gone off just yet.
To let loose and make you live a little, Kurt races past a red light and nearly misses being in a collision.
It startles you but he assures you there’s no danger.
“You trust me right?” He asks, glancing back to you.
“I mean, yeah.”
The confirmation is validation to him. It’s all he needed to begin.
He picks up another passenger, an older man who definitely did not hide the way he was staring at your body. You’re thankful for sitting a little father from him but when Kurt initiates conversation with him, everything goes downhill.
“I know you from somewhere.” The man points out, his obvious staring makes you cringe as you stay silent.
“You’re that model, I’ve seen your stuff around Westwood. Bangin’ body.”
You can feel the anger in your chest rise as Kurt finally notices.
“What’s going on?” He glances to the back, meeting your shifting eyes.
The man ignores him. “Sweetheart when someone compliments you, the nice thing to do is smile.”
That did it.
“Excuse me? I don’t owe you shit!” You grit.
“Whoa! Whoa! Sir you can’t be saying that anymore.” Kurt changes lanes, ready to stop if the situation gets worse.
“She should be proud she doesn’t look like her people. All of ‘em just fat and lazy.”
“Excuse me?! My people?” You’re sure you don’t look the least bit intimidating but it doesn’t matter. You were willing to kick this man’s ass if need be.
Kurt pulls off the the side of the road, “Alright, get out.”
“What? No, I paid for this ride fair and square. I’m not leaving for shit. I can say what I want.” He says adamantly.
“Sir if you make those comments again I’m going to have to cancel the Spree.”
Something clicks in Kurt’s head as he remembers the water bottles.
He motions for you to take the passenger seat which you do without much hesitation.
Kurt waits a minute before merging again, glancing at the man every so often and taking more desolate streets. You don’t notice the absence of cars and you definitely don’t notice when the man takes a bottle and practically chugs it.
Kurt smirks as he slows down. “Hey maybe you should let them know you’re not going to make it.”
Confused, you glance at Kurt and then at the man who’s now starting to grab at his throat and coughing violently.
Your eyes widen as you attempt to get Kurt to stop the car but he doesn’t move, instead he keeps his eyes trained on the road.
“Kurt, stop the car.”
The man’s coughs get worse by the second and he turns a very bright red.
“Kurt! Stop the car!”
You’re frozen, helpless to watch the man as he tries to grab at Kurt from behind but coughs up blood and passes out in the backseat. You slink back in your seat, utterly terrified of what just happened.
Adrenaline and fear course through you. You side eye Kurt who is not as affected by this as you are as he merely readjusts his camera.
You begin to hyperventilate and try the passenger door. When it doesn’t budge you shut your eyes and cry.
“I won’t say anything. I won’t I promise. I promise, Kurt. Please.”
Kurt sighs as he retrieves a piece of cloth from his pocket. Your eyes widen as he comes close and pins you in your seat and smothers you with the cloth. You struggle under him, pushing against his chest to no avail.
The smell of the chloroform inundates your senses and in a matter of seconds you feel your eyes roll back and everything go black.
Once you’re knocked out, Kurt takes both your phone and the other passengers to knock suspicion off of him. He has plans for the racist prick in the back, but for you, he has much bigger plans.
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ok so i posted a cashton fic rec a couple of months ago and since then i have expanded my horizons and read more than just these two. this fandom truly has the best writers and i can’t thank you enough for the joy and comfort your fics bring me and many more im sure. most of these are cashton and cake since they are personally my favourite pairings to read, i still have many more on my to-read list so hopefully i make another one of these with more fics! so here we go in no particular order with the fics i got around to reading in these couple of months:
calum hood/ashton irwin
Empty Gut by @daydadahlias - Cowboys and horses and long, lonely nights in the wilderness. (11k)
here’s the thing, i have been hearing about jess’ fics from a friend of mine before i came across their blog, got many screenshots of their lashton fics (which the moment i start reading more lashton they’ll be first in line) and from what i saw i was in love with the writing. so when i saw you writing a brokeback mountain AU for cashton, none the less, you got me. it was so heartbreaking and i loved the way you wrote all of ashton’s inner monologues. i knew how the movie ends and i still cried at the ending for calum.
Fall Into Me by @ashtcnirwin - In which Ashton acquires a couple of piercings and it comes with a slight change in his way of being, and it throws Calum for a loop. (16k)
holy shit where do i start, it’s always refreshing to read sub!ash since usually it’s the opposite. i really loved the different dynamics you put into these fics between all the guys. one second i was laughing my ass off and another second it got way too hot in the room while reading this, which in my opinion is a great combo. also, im very grateful you graced us with a part two for this series cause when i didn’t think it could get better it did.
In Your Sweet December Haze by @fourdrunksluts - It’s been years since Ashton’s last seen his best friend's dorky little brother, Calum, but when their families decide to get together for their first shared Christmas since they were all kids, it’s more than just the holiday spirit that pulls Ashton in. (20k)
this fic has just the right amount of angst and comfort, i could literally picture this as a film. i loved the back and forth in the timeline and that way you slowly realize the chain of events that let them to the present. also, you made me cry over a furby and i can’t get over that.
i want you (bless my soul) by @michaelownsmyheart - In which Ashton moves in with a guy named Michael, Michael is in love with Luke and annoyed at Calum, and the guy with shaved blue hair from the elevator is too hot for Ashton to know what to do about it. (22k)
oh boy this is a good one, another sub!ash and im really loving this. the cashton here was excellent, but what was also excellent is the friendship between michael and ashton - their dynamic was so funny and sweet and they’re the perfect roommates.
calum hood/luke hemmings
He Did Ballet by @kaleidoscopeminds - Luke's life is perfectly on track. He is about to get everything he's ever wanted, to become a Principal dancer for the Royal Ballet. He's focused, determined and nothing will get in his way. Then he meets Calum, a smooth-tongued barman with dangerous eyes, and suddenly not everything's so simple. (37k)
the motherfuckin ballet fic everybody! the first cake fic i read and what got me into this mess. i really loved the buildup in the relationship and the combination of fluff and angst (chapter 7 im looking at you) and ballet au just has my heart ok?
more than just a neon weekend by @clumsyclifford - Calum shifts into a sitting position. The sheets fall further down his body and Luke looks down at his hands so he won’t stare. He’s still mostly naked, too, and he can feel Calum watching him, and his cheeks burn. Calum needs to leave. Calum needs to take his clothes and go and they need to never tell anyone about this and never talk about it again, because this could destroy the band if it turns into — if anything. (8k)
listen, im a sucker for angst and miscommunication and this got it. the whole fic got me hurting for both luke and, just wanting for them to be ok. “Means nothing to me if it’s nothing to you” you just had to hurt me huh. i was just waiting for them to talk properly and for them end each others pain.
the flatmate arrangement by @kaleidoscopeminds - Hi Calum/Poor Struggling Paralegal, So I’ll be upfront with you. It’s a one-bed flat. I also live here. HOWEVER before you delete this and think I’m a freak, I work nights so I wouldn’t be here anytime you would be. You can have the flat exclusively from 6 pm to 8 am, Saturday night and all day Sunday. Understand this sounds like a bit of a crazy arrangement but I could do with the cash, let me know what you think? Luke Hemmings (Poor Struggling Children’s Nurse). (20k)
this au is so cute, you really got me wishing to have a roommate that i will never see. i love how michael and ashton both were like “this is crazy, why do you wanna die?” and luke and calum are like “it’s fine, don’t be dramatic”. luke backing when he’s stressed? leaving calum baked goods? them leaving notes to each other? this is so sweet i love this fic.
michael clifford/ashton irwin
Gotta Be Cruel to be Kind by @fourdrunksluts - The fandom required 10 Things I Hate About You fic. (26k)
you are right. every fandom needs a 10 things i hate about you fic! and michael and ashton as patrick and kat was just perfect. side cake was also adorable. it got all the great parts of the movie, but you changed it in a way that made the story so much better.
luke hemmings/ashton irwin
Off-Screen by @allsassnoclass - Now that classes are being taught from home due to the pandemic, students are getting a glimpse into Professor Irwin's home life, especially when his mysterious husband keeps interrupting class. (3k)
i loved that this one was from an outsider’s perspective. it gave me the feeling like i was one of the students in ashton’s class haha. luke being a clingy husband is also adorable. just pure fluff.
OT4
Let Go Of Any Hesitation by @fourdrunksluts - When Ashton's frustration is a creative block, it becomes the entire band's problem, and they each have their own idea of how to get him out of his head. (18k)
this one got it all, i love reading about ashton getting all the attention and getting taken care of. truly is a sucker for ashton and his boys. ashton is so stubborn here, but the moment he lets go it’s so good.
once again, thank you for writing these, you all are incredible and deserve all the love ♥
#yay another one! love all of you!!#i have so many more fics to read i just need to find the time!! need more hours in the day#5sos#5sos fic#this is so long im so sorry for my ramblings i had to put it under the read more#go check these out if you haven't already and give the authors love!!!!
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More spoilery Pathless thoughts, notes, ideas, etc:
So, from the limited glimpses I’ve gotten of the Shark Temple monks, the hoods they wear don’t look like scarves like I initially thought when I saw them in Abzu. The texture and hard shapes give off the impression of something more along the lines of a gabled hood, reinforced with buckram or something similar to keep the geometric shapes.
Also, though I couldn’t get a super long look at the faces of their skeletons, they look... weird. The eye sockets are small and the rest of the face looks blank. Maybe the developers borrowed from the Diver’s model, or they’re wearing masks. Either way I’m not 100% convinced they’re normal humans.
Jumping off that point, it does kind of weird me out that the ancestors from Abzu appear to be human, at least to some extent. It doesn’t quite make a ton of sense, given how the architecture in Abzu is rather amphibious (yes, there are stairs underwater that would imply they used to be above water, but also, the more “urban” areas (such as the area where you find the bird mural) seem built specifically for exploration above and below water, implying the inhabitants could travel both ways).
Than again, magic is a thing in-universe, or at least a rather unusual form of it. Somehow the Godslayer managed to grow twice the height of a normal person and attained a tail and claws, so I don’t think its a stretch that a society might develop where the people figured out how to give themselves gills or something. Or they were never human in the first place and just lived alongside the Isle humans for a while before they were ousted.
It is very difficult getting good references for the characters from screenshots. Since I can’t play it myself, I have to rely on Youtube videos, and even those aren’t super reliable due to basically nobody taking the time to take a close look at the skeletons and stuff, and the constant movement making it difficult to get any clear shots. Even the OST videos, as recommended, aren’t very good because the concept art featured is all either scenery or the Hunter, so while I might have no problems with her, everything else is kinda bust. Godslayer in particular is a pain in the ass because he’s always shot with this low red lighting, to the point you can hardly make out the details of his arms outside of a few blurry shots.
It is implied that the Tall Ones took the physical bodies of animal-headed humanoids before the Godslayer killed them and corrupted their spirits, as evidenced by some stele text and the giant fucking skeletons that are revealed after one completes the different plateaus. I suppose the size of the skeletons would explain why they’re called the Tall Ones in the first place, though I can’t imagine being one of the Isle’s humans, living a normal life, finding out about all sorts of drama off at the monasteries, and then one day looking out my window and seeing a 100 foot tall streaker with a deer’s head carefully tiptoeing over pine trees.
I say streaker because the giant skeletons sure as hell didn’t look clothed, and the statues of their humanoid forms imply a rather... limited wardrobe. But then again, if the statues were accurate, then the Eagle Mother and Nimue would have masculine bodies, which would be kind of weird, but they’re not human so I suppose one can excuse them not being super well versed in human sexual dimorphism.
Also, going by the singular lore video I can find on Youtube, I think the Pathfinder had already slipped into being a little crazy before he donned the Mask of Ancients, got his hands on the Sun Sword, and started demanding human sacrifices. Case in point, he had a bunch of his followers sacrifice their lives to set off the traps to get to the Mask instead of doing the rational person thing and just working on the puzzles. Their spirits even say as much. I don’t think he was put in prison for just voicing an opinion contrary to the popular doctrine of the time, I think he was already stirring up a violent cult following before that point; the prison break was just the earliest point in which people really started to notice him. Or at least, start dying.
I don’t think the time period between the fall of the Isle civilization and the Hunter’s arrival was much more than maybe a generation or two. For starters, the Hunter and the Godslayer speak the same language, and don’t seem to have any issues understanding each other despite presumably a long time for linguistic drift to set in. Additionally, the dead, while skeletal, seem to be in relatively good condition (with clothing intact, no less), and while the buildings and such are in ruins in many cases, they don’t look like they’ve been overtaken by the elements like one would expect from a centuries old ruin.
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Voicemails (part 1)
Pairing: Ethan x mc
Word count: 5.5 K words (damn that's the most I have written
Masterlist
Warning: ANGST
Taglist: @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @junggoku @ethandaddyramsey @edith-eggs1 @ethanramseysgirl @samihatuli @loveellamae @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @zeniamiii @binny1985 @an-urban-witch-ig @ramseyegerton @noboundariesplease @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey @newcolonies @theodorepjames4 @unluckygs @choices-love-affair @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @ohramsey @virtualrain202 @squishywizardhq @junehiratas @lilyvalentine @nooruleman @itsgoingnuts @cordonianbleu @agent-breakdance @jamespotterthefirst @choicesfanaf @temptress-of-death-and-desire @ac27dj @rookiefromedenbrook @gaiusimp @theeccentricbibliophile @oofchoices @hatescapsicum @sanchita012 @edgiestwinter (if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know ☺️)
Author's note: Well I know I said I was going on semi hiatus but, my studies are going great so I decided to post 🤪 also, shout out to @kittykatchoices for helping me in bouncing ideas( she is amazing)
also I went full out and posted screenshots and dividers sike
Songs: Callin by Alec Bailey is my main muse but I made a playlist too
Forgive me if there are any errors
Day 1
Ethan was jolted awake from his slumber as the flight touched down. It continued to speed down the runaway when it eventually reduced to a slow crawl and he saw the glass facade of the airport, glinting in the afternoon sun.
AEROPORTO INTERNACIONAL DE MANAUS EDUARDO GOMES. The banner read and Ethan let the reality sink in that he actually was in the state of Amazonas, South America.
"Welcome to Manaus International Airport. The weather here is partly sunny with 98% chance of precipitation. The temperature is..."
Ethan zoned out. His back was killing him and the need to stretch was becoming unbearable. Even though the WHO team of doctors had settled in comfortably in the plush seats of the private jet, it was a very boring flight.
There is a certain restrictions to the number of boring and wasteful romantic comedies you could watch in a 40 hour flight.
They did have 2 stops for refueling but they weren't allowed to step out of the plane.
God I want to go on a run so bad. He thought mentally as he massaged his spasming neck.
The doctors kicked back and relaxed, ocassionally discussing the cholera epidemic break out in Tefé, a small city on the riverside. It was very productive and they did manage to make a dent in the treatment plan but, when everybody was asleep and it was just him and his thoughts.
And his thoughts mostly revolved around the reason why he volunteered to join these prestigious doctors to battle the epidemic.
It wasn't out of selflessness, or the need to save humanity or for some mindless award.
It was an opportunity.
An opportunity to run from the girl who has invaded his head and heart, and resided there.
Leah.
You are doing this for her own good. You are doing this for her professional development. You are doing this for her success. Feelings are fleeting, they will fade away. Ethan repeated those sentences like mantra, trying to ingrain it in his mind that he was doing the right thing leaving her behind.
No call, no text. A clean break.
But no matter how much you lie to your brain, you can't lie to your heart.
Ethan you know you are running away from her because she confessed that she loved you, stop lying to yourself. The snarky inside voice spoke up.
But, if he paid attention to it closely, it sounded just like Leah, calling him out in his bullshit.
He shook his head, trying to erase all the thoughts in his head as the aero-bridge connected to the door and they were opened. Standing up, he stretched his sore muscles and took out his duffle bag.
When he reached the exit, the air hostess with a face caked with makeup, gave him a polite smile. "Hope you had a pleasant flight doctor."
Pleasant my ass...
As he walked through the corridors towards the baggage claim area, he switched on his phone.
As he stood there waiting, he saw an influx of messages from Naveen and his dad.
But that was not what caught his eye.
Leah🌞
(3) missed calls
(1) voicemail
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was midnight here and around 1 am in Boston.
Ethan walked out of the bathroom, exhausted to the bone. It had been a long day for him. The moment they had landed they had been rushed to Tefé, where they dived straight into work. The hospital was already flooding and there was so much pain and suffering all around.
Ethan has the emotions of a block of granite but, seeing so much misery and sadness, made his energies drop low.
And it did not help that the pocket in which his phone was kept, was weighing him down.
(1) voicemail from Leah🌞.
He wanted to delete it immediately but every time his finger hovered above the delete button, he just could not. So, he let it lay there in his inbox as a heavy reminder.
The moment Ethan's back hit the mattress a huge sigh of relief escaped his lips. He was weary and his body ached.
But, sleep didn't come to him.
He just lay there staring at the ceiling, seeing the different shadows casted by the moonlight. He saw the shadows of the trees swaying and the reflection of the Amazon.
His eyes landed on his phone on the bedside table and he stared at it for a long time, contemplating if listening to the voicemail was worth it or not.
You don't have to respond...
But, then my resolve will weaken...
His logic and conscience went back and forth but there wasn't any clear winner.
If this is what having feelings for someone is like, I don't want it...
But, you would take a 100 leap of faiths for Leah, won't you?
"ARGH!" Ethan threw the comforter off and got up. He started pacing around the room, trying to work off his restlessness. He walked around the room, his eyes trained on the phone as if it was a bomb. He clenched his jaw and tried to not let one insignificant notification affect him, but it was getting harder with every passing minute.
"Ah fuck it." Ethan said as he picked up the phone to listen to the voicemail. Leah's uncertain and raw voice flooded which forced him to lie down because of the emotions which bubbled to the surface.
"Umm.. hey Ethan, Leah here. I..uh heard that you went to the Amazon to fight the cholera epidemic from Naveen today... And I am proud of you but, I know that is not the reason why you ran, is it?
It's because I said 'I love you' three days ago, isn't it?"
Leah's voice cracked as she took a deep breath, before continuing.
"Are those three words that scary?
I had prepared myself that you would ignore my very existence and shut out all the feelings and that would have been painful but bearable, but... You literally ran to another fucking continent?!"
She bitterly chuckled and Ethan's heart squeezed.
"I don't even know what to do at this point. Don't they say that you should confess your feelings the moment you realize them, otherwise you will regret it? But... I can't help but feel regret... Why do I even try? I should have just shut the fuck up and get on with my day but NO! I had to open my mouth and here I am here talking to your answering machine.
I just can't help but feel that I let you slip away from me...
Anyways, it's okay.. I will wait. I promised you I would always wait.
Just...come back to me..okay? Bye."
The phone beeped, signalling the end of the voicemail. Ethan lowered his hand to stare at his phone's screen.
"I love you Ethan. And it's okay if you don't say it back. I know you need time and I will be here waiting for you..."
That's what she had said three days ago. And as much as they lifted him, it pained him. He was confused and just couldn't think straight. He needed some space.
But, he could feel his resolution weakening. The itch to dial that number and talk to her was irresistible.
You made a promise to yourself Ethan. You can't go back on that now.
He let out a deep sigh and ran his hand through his brown locks. His eyes landed on the table on which there was the complementary stationary provided by the b&b. An idea slowly bloomed in his head and he nodded to himself.
Sure I can't call her. But atleast I can write down my reply so that it won't keep on being a burden on my shoulder.
With that being said, Ethan sat down on the desk and poured his heart out on the loose sheets of papers.
DAY 10
For the next ten days, Ethan would keep an eye on the phone for any notification.
And by any notification, it meant a voicemail or a message from that one particular woman who had him in the palm of her hand.
He would get excited whenever his phone would ping but, his hopes would immediately crash when it would just be a message from the telecom company telling him about his telephone bill.
After he got his seventh 'Bem-vindo à Amazônia'(welcome to the Amazons,) he just let out a sigh of disappointment and turned his phone off and got on with his day.
I am such a moron... Look at where the mighty have fallen. The person who hated texting looks forward to a text. Ethan chastised himself as he entered the local hospital for a busy day.
Around noon when he headed to the cafeteria down the street, he turned his phone on to find a notification that made his heart beat faster.
(1) voicemail from Leah🌞
He pressed the button and brought the phone to his ear.
"Hey Ethan, just wanted to update you on the hospital and your patients. Everything is running smoothly and all your patients are alive. Chief Naveen and someone named Dr. Hirata are managing them. Mrs. Rodriguez went home today and she left you some cookies which I may or may not have stolen because well... they might catch fungi and that's sure would be a tragedy. Also, you don't even like anything sweet and would have given it to me anyways."
Ethan could imagine her shrugging as she stuffed her face with a cookie. That mental image was way too cute and Ethan couldn't help but melt a little. He sat down on his designated seat in the cafeteria and Leah continued.
"Also, Mr. Agarwal from room 456 was taken in by Harper for emergency brain surgery. He had an aneurysm and is in recovery. So far, he is showing great scope of a full recovery.
In short, everything is fine and smoothly running in your absence.
To be honest, I don't miss you that much. It just feel like a normal day when you are in one side of the hospital and I am in the opposite side. But... When I cross your office before clocking out, instead of seeing you working on your desk or lounging on the couch in your office, I just see emptiness.
And then that reminds me of the emptiness in my chest... But fuck that, who cares?!
Seriously, I don't miss you at all. But... That doesn't mean it's an invitation to stay in the Amazons indefinitely.
I would very much like it if you come back to me...okay? Bye."
A grin decorated his face and it made him so happy that his cheekbones were hurting. He shook his head as he put his phone down on the wooden table.
I don't miss you at all...
Who are you trying to convince sunshine?
Those words may be biting but he also knew his sunshine pretty well. He knew that she also missed him the way he did but, both of them were stubborn and had their heads all the way up their asses.
Neither of them were going to cave in and confess.
It's a tiring game and Ethan often wondered how long is he going to last.
So with his head full of thoughts, he took out the hotel stationary and began writing his response.
DAY 19
"Put the patients in bed number 4 and 25 in the recovery ward and ask if they are willing to provide blood for plasma therapy. Bed number 20 is going downhill so increase the dosage of the narrow spectrum antibiotics from 100mg to 250 mg every two hours. And..."
Ethan turned around and let his eyes run over the different patients. He was covered from head to toe in scrubs and goggles donned his face. The mask muffled his speech.
"Bed number 40 should move to another ward because it isn't too severe in her case. And can you update me on the patients in the gymnasium?" Ethan asked as he looked up from the clipboard.
"Most of them are infected sir. We have been segregating them from the healthy ones. We made the banquet hall the centre of testing and if anyone tests positive we are either sending that person to the hospital or to the gym. We have even initiated lockdown to prevent the spread of the disease." The doctor spoke with a heavy Portuguese accent.
"Good. Keep me informed about the patients in bed 12, 39, and 26 throughout the night."
"Yes Dr. Ramsey. Boa noite!"
"Good night."
Ethan walked out of the isolation ward and headed into the locker room where he could sterilize himself. Getting out of the numerous layers of scrubs was a task in itself and he felt so suffocated in them.
As he pealed out the layers off his sweaty body and removed the mask he stepped into the shower cubicle and turned the tap on.
He sighed in relief as the cold water washed over him, washing away the day's dirt, grime and sadness. Working in the isolation ward was never easy. It was always filled with fear and despair. Ethan would try his best to make them comfortable but, he never had a knack of people's skills.
If Leah was here she would have them laughing in no time. The thought rushed through his mind.
Leah.
Ethan was missing her terribly. The first few days were easy to handle the absence but now? Good lord, he craved her.
She was his sunshine and she always knew how to lift his spirits up when he had a rough day be it by cracking awful dad jokes, her infamous puns or her just being around him.
He missed those hazel eyes which would fill up with concern the moment she noticed his discomfort. He missed the way she would reach out for his hand and squeeze it twice when they were in broad daylight. He missed the way she would wrap her arms around his waist and lean her head against his chest when it was just them.
He stepped out of the cubicle, water dripping down his toned abs. He slipped on a fresh pair of jeans and a plain tshirt. He was about to pick up his messenger bag when he saw the screen of his phone light up with a notification.
Leah🌞
(1) missed call
(1) voicemail
Ethan gave a small smile before pressing the button to hear the message.
"So apparently now I am Jenner's emergency contact, huh?"
Amusement laced her voice and Ethan groaned, hiding his face with hand. He hoped that Leah would never have to know but now the secret is out and all he wanted to do was curl up and hide.
She chuckled before continuing. "Don't be embarassed Ethan. I think that it is cute and I am so glad that you can trust me with your girl. Look at you, growing up and trusting people."
Ethan chuckled and Leah's tinkling laugh joined his.
"Basically, Jenner's dog sitter had to go out on an emergency so she called me to go to your apartment and feed her. Not going to lie but... I am scared."
She sighed before continuing.
"It's just that once I cross the threshold and see the cold empty penthouse shrouded in darkness... It would confirm that you are actually gone and that I can not continue living in the state of denial.
So, if you are getting calls from your neighbours that there is a hobo muttering to herself and pacing in front of your door, that's me."
Nervous laughter resounded on the line followed by another sigh.
"...you know what, fuck it. It's just a door."
Jingling of keys was heard on the line and it was shortly followed by excited barks.
"Oomph!" Leah was cut off by Jenner tackling her. A crash was heard, which might probably be the phone falling down on the ground.
Ethan smiled. He liked seeing his girls interacting.
Leah's coos were heard along with barks and whines from Jenner. Leah's voice sounded faraway as she spoke to Jenner in a baby voice.
"Oh girl... Don't be sad. I know he hurt you by leaving you here all alone. But you are not alone. Well, he hurt me too. So, don't worry we are on the same boat girl."
Those words were like a sucker punch in the gut and Ethan could not help but sit down on the bench as an after effect.
Don't worry... He hurt me too... Those words continue to echo through his head. He knew that Leah didn't say those words intentionally but, it just made him realise just how much of a facade she had put up, to hide her pain.
God, sunshine...
Leah's voice continued. "Well Jenner misses you too. We are okay, aren't we?" An excited bark sounded throught the phone and Leah chuckled.
"Sorry to disturb you. Go back to do your job of saving lives. You are doing a service to humanity Ethan, and I am super proud. You are so brave."
There was a pause before Leah blurted out.
"I- I miss you Ethan. A lot. And it hurts not seeing you here. But don't worry about me, I am a strong cookie and I will stay strong... For you. I just have one request though..
Come back to me soon...okay? Bye."
You have reached the end of the voicemail. If you want to hear agai-
Ethan immediately pressed the button and he heard her voice through the speaker of his phone. As she spoke, Ethan hauled a taxi to take him to his b&b.
You are doing a service to humanity... You are so brave..
Oh sunshine, if only you knew... it wasn't bravery.
I miss you a lot...
I miss you too sunshine...
Ethan sat and stared out of the window of his cab, a turmoil of emotions just running wildly in him as the words of the woman he loved, ran in his mind.
DAY 28
It was 12 am in Tefé and Ethan sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone's screen with narrowed gaze.
C'mon Ethan, don't be a pussy. It's just a message.
And that one message will be the breaking point for all of my will power and resolve. Might as well catch a flight home and personally wish her.
You are blowing things out of proportion... His inner voice reasoned.
"Shut the fuck up." Ethan exhaled, clenching his jaw, the muscle ticking as his eyes again landed on the blinking cursor, mocking him.
It was the 29th of April.
His sunshine's birthday.
And Ethan sat, twiddling his thumbs, contemplating what to type and send.
His thoughts went to last year when they were so at ease and could stay up and talk for hours but now, here he was, not able to formulate a single text message for the girl he had feelings for.
What have we come to?
Ethan couldn't help but feel guilty all of a sudden. Doubt clouded his mind and he wondered if running to the Amazon was really a good idea or not.
I needed space to think and figure out this 'love' thing... Right?
Shaking his head, he cleared all those lingering doubts and looked down at his phone again and wrote what came to his mind.
When did the great Ethan Ramsey get so cheesy? His inner voice snickered.
As he continued to read and re-read the message again and again, he started hating what he wrote.
"This is utter garbage. Who in their right mind uses emojis? Fuck this." Ethan muttered as he erased the entire message. He locked his phone and placed it on the bedside table before getting comfortable in the sheets and slipping into a deep slumber.
11:57 am
Ethan had finished his rounds and was just taking a five minute break before he headed into the conference room where the team of doctors would discuss their approach.
The condition did improve a bit here on Tefé, but it was a massive outbreak and things were getting harder to control. It was a stress fest 24/7 and Ethan could feel his brown locks greying by the second.
In this five minute break, instead of grabbing something to eat and regroup his thoughts, he stood in the hallway, looking down at his phone. He had typed another message with lesser mixed signals.
Well... This sounds robotic... No wonder Leah called me Dr. Terminator the first time. Ethan snorted as he shook his head, disappointed.
He was about to type more when he heard his name being called by one of his colleagues.
"Dr. Ramsey, we are good to go."
Ethan looked up and curtly nodded. "Yes, I'm coming." He locked his phone and slipped into the pocket of his denim jeans, diving into work again.
7:16 pm
Ethan was sat down on the bench outside the hospital and let out a breath of relief. He had been on his feet since the last 5 hours, running between the gymnasium, the hospital and the banquet hall.
The mask and goggles he had worn, had left bruises on his face and he just needed a fresh breath of air. Ethan took big gulps of the humid air which had hints of rain.
The thing about Tefé was that it rained everyday, without doubt. He enjoyed the rain but hated the humidity which was an inconvenient side effect. Though it was relatively cool at night, Ethan's shirt stuck to his chiseled body due to the excessive sweat.
Ethan took his phone out of the pocket and opened the messaging app again. "Short and sweet is better." Ethan mumbled as he started typing again.
He was half way through the message when his phone died due to the low battery. Ethan just looked up at the sky with defeat.
Was this the time to come at me karma?
He was about to head to the locker room to put his phone on charging when he heard panicked voices calling him. "Dr. Ramsey!"
"Yes?" He got up and started jogging to the entrance.
"Five patients in isolation ward CC-23 are deteriorating and they need help ASAP. We are short-handed and-"
"Say no more. We have lives to save."
12:00 am
It was a stressful evening to say the least.
The patients kept on flat lining and Ethan and the staff tried bringing them back to life by injecting them with adrenaline. After a giving quite a few scares, they were finally stable and moved to the ICU.
Ethan dropped his duffle bag on to the sofa in his b&b and stretched his arms above his head, cracking his neck to release the tension in his shoulders. He fished his phone out of his pocket and immediately connected it to the charging port.
His screen lit up after sometime and he saw a notification which made his heart sink.
Leah🌞
(1) voicemail
I could not wish her...
Ethan opened his notifications and pressed on the voicemail she left, preparing himself to face the music.
"Uh..hi Ethan. I hope things are going as smooth as they can over there. I have been reading the news and keeping up with the situation there. I ain't worried about that because well... You are Ethan freaking Ramsey, the best diagnostician of your generation!"
Nervous laughter flitted through the phone speaker before it turned into a sigh.
"I know you are busy with the epidemic and all but... You missed my birthday. And- and I don't want to sound like those middle school teenager crying over an unwished birthday but... It hurts when the love of your life doesn't do it.
I have been trying to reason with myself that you could have forgotten but, I know you. I know that you never forget... And I didn't expect an elaborate gesture or anything! Even a small 'happy birthday Leah' message could have made my day... And I know you are caught up in your work but... How long does it take to type three words?"
Leah's voice cracked and Ethan felt regret gripping at his throat.
"Ethan- I am running out of reasons to convince myself. I am running out of those optimistic reinforcing shit. I am running out of the the number of benefits of doubts to give you. I am running out of faith that you feel the same way as me.
The longer I am spending time without any communication from you, the more I am loosing myself into the vicious cycle of doubt and self loathing.
I am angry at you and I hate you so much right now. I want to burn down your sweater in my closet and throw away the sun pendant you gave me. Just forget that you existed and go back to being the old happy me."
Ethan gasped, feeling breathless all of a sudden. The heavy burden of her pain and his self loathing was crushing his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.
In a soft, broken voice Leah spoke.
"But I won't. I don't have the strength to yank the necklace off me. Even though it burns me and is a reminder of the person who left me, I still wear it. Even though your name hurts me, I still want to hear it...
...I love you Ethan, so damn much that it hurts me. I need you Ethan, I really do and I know it's selfish of me but...
Just come back to me... Please. Bye."
Ethan leaned his elbows on his knees and let out a breath which rattled through his body. He put his head in his hands and let out another breath, trying to breathe through the heart shattering pain.
I am so sorry sunshine...
So fucking sorry...
DAY 36
It had been eight days since the last voicemail and Ethan had been tormented, swimming in gut wrenching guilt.
Most of the times he found himself reaching for the phone to call her, but he would just clench his fist and resume his work. All the words left unsaid, he would just pour it out on to the loose sheets of paper. That was the only thing that prevented him from slipping into insanity.
He was never one to understand the sentimental reason behind having a diary or journal. From a scientific perspective, he knew that it has long lasting effects in mental health and helps get rid of the anxiety.
But now, whenever he felt like he was going to get crushed under the guilt, he often found himself writing.
If he wasn't writing, he would be working. He started staying at the hospital longer and worked for longer hours so that he could tire himself out. That way, when he went to sleep, he would immediately fall asleep.
But still, no matter how much he tried, his thoughts would always go back to her.
Funny how one person could make or break your life.
It was 4:45 am and Ethan was in the lab, checking in on the newest vaccine that they had worked on. The doctors had been utilising the plasma of the recovered patients to formulate vaccines using the antibodies created in defense. And so far, it had been helping them. They were already vaccinating the asymptomatic people and it made a huge impact.
But still, there was a long way to go.
"Dr. Ramsey, why are you still here?" Dr. Batra, a 50 year old woman from India asked, her voice laced with inquisitiveness.
"Just working on the vaccine strains, Dr. Batra."
"You and I both know that those strains are highly effective." She said as she leaned against the door frame.
"Never hurt to be perfect." He shrugged as he leaned back from the microscope.
"But it does hurt when you over work yourself."
Ethan sighed as he took his glasses off. He rubbed his face.
"How long have you been awake Ethan?" Dr. Batra asked, the maternal concern evident in her tone.
Silence.
"Ethan..." She gave him a stern look.
"Yeah, yeah I will go now. After some ti-"
"You do know that avoiding your problems won't make them go away, right?"
Ethan's eyes snapped to her and immediately looked away not able to hold her gaze. She reminded him of Naveen and how he could never hide anything for him.
I wonder how he is doing...
"But I am delaying the inevitable, as most doctors must do."
"Ethan... I have known you for a very short duration but, I know for a fact that you are not a man who gives excuses."
Ethan sighed. "It's complicated."
"As must all the things in this universe."
"It's just... There is this girl, and she confessed her feelings for me. And the intensity of the feelings scared me. So here I am, taking a break. But... There is this small pain in my chest whenever I think about her. She fills me up with euphoria but can also break me down. When I reflect back on all the happy moments, I get light headed, as if I am on drugs. That is why I am here, to analyse and figure out my feelings whilst helping with the epidemic."
"Well... I think you know the answer but, you are just living in a state of denial."
Ethan sighed as he looked down at his hands. "Don't I know that?"
"Well, if you know the answer then what's stopping you?"
"I-" they were interrupted by the shrill ring of Ethan's phone. He saw the name 'Leah🌞' and pressed the silent button immediately.
"You won't take that?" she asked eyeing the phone.
"I don't think I am strong enough to do that."
"Love is for the brave Ethan. Remember that." She got up and patted his shoulder before stepping out. The sun rays filtered through the gigantic windows of the lab, slowly illuminating the clinical set up with its golden rays. Ethan picked up the phone and saw that Leah had left another voicemail.
Picking up the phone, he stood in front of the window, letting the warmth of the sun wash over him. Be brought the phone to his ear and he heard her.
"Hey. Its 6 am here and I was bored so I decided to call you. Or leave a voicemail because you never pick up my call. I was just feeling lonely so here I am! Kinda ironic but meh.”
Ethan could hear her shrug though the phone.
“I have been taking double shifts all week and it's been so productive. The cool cases I have done and solved, the lives I have saved... they have been giving me my quota of serotonin.
Literally nothing interests or makes me happy now. So my job is the only thing which I look forward to. The things I used to enjoy doing, seems like a chore.
Everything seems like a chore.
Sleeping, eating, breathing, everything seems like an exhausting task. I don't even like sleeping anymore. Because whenever I sleep I dream fo you and when I dream of you, it's like I am being stabbed in the heart.
I don't even want to go home, because whenever I am home, I see your sweater and then my mind goes back to the numerous night outs we had, working on our cases.
The hospital is okay but, every corner I turn I think I see you which, I am going to blame on my sleep deprivation. Don't worry, I am not going into self destruct mode. I still force myself to eat three square meals a day and I get around 4 hours of sleep for every 48 hours I am awake.
So it's okay... I am okay.
I maybe a ticking time bomb BUT, I am not a working hazard. I am alert at all times and all my patients are in tip top condition. I think I should give credit to the two energy drinks I downed along with a cup of coffee.
Don't worry, my heartbeat is under the safe limit of 180 BPM.
In short, don't worry. I am golden.
I hope you are taking care of yourself too! I just hope that you come back to me.
Bye. Love you."
"FUCK!" Ethan exclaimed as he threw he phone with a thud on the table. He placed his palms on the cool granite countertop, breathing heavily.
Shit, shit, shit.
He started pacing in the lab, playing with his beard, his mind racing with worry and concern.
This was not supposed to happen.
Ethan stood and gripped the counter again closing his eyes, trying to centre his breathing but it was futile.
I need to do something, anything! His conscience egged him.
He opened his eyes and it landed on his phone.
Well, I guess it's time to make a call.
well, I hope you guys liked it!
do you think Ethan finally caved in and called her?
like, comment, reblog and let me know what do you think :))
#choices#choices oh#playchoices#choices stories you play#choices stories we play#pixelberry#open heart#open heart mc#open heart 2#open heart fanfiction#choices fanfiction#open heart fic#anushka writes#oh Ethan#ethan ramsey#ethan x mc#ethan jonah ramsey#dr. ethan ramsey#dr ethan ramsey#ethan x f!mc#ethan ramsey x mc#ethan ramsey one shot
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(100) Million Dollar Lawsuit
Intro | part1 | part2 | part3 | part4
We are on the last chapter (for now) and this the most chaotic one. Mainly because it doesn’t follow any kind of chronological order (or logical sense), it’s just Russ going in circles for literal years.
But I’ll try my best to condense it for you, so all you need to do is to keep your seat belt fastened until the aircraft stops completely.
Right after the failed Ari lawsuit, Russ goes back to his one and only love: Taylor Swift 💫 And he has learned a lesson — not a good lesson, mind you, but a lesson: small claims courts won’t take him anywhere. If he really wants to punish women for not complimenting his suit, he will have to file a multi-million dollar federal lawsuit.
But, since denying sex from The Russell isn’t illegal (yet), he had to come at it from a different angle. I’m going to give Russ a chance to explain himself first.
Before you ask: yes, the following was Russell’s response to a woman thanking Taylor for visiting an 8 year-old girl who was very badly burned in an accident.
As I’ve always said, it’s okay if you aren’t fluent in Bullshit. That’s what I’m here for.
You see, Russell views human interactions as a series of transactions: I make a tweet worth liking, you go on a date with me; I take you to Olive Garden, you give me a handie for free; I put on a suit, you hug me and smile; I write you a song and sue you, you produce said song. Whenever women don’t fulfil their side of the deal, he becomes enraged.
But the reason he has such a strong hate-boner for Tay, is because she seemed to also follow his same ‘moral code’. A kid makes a cute video, she visits them at the hospital. A fan writes her a letter inviting her to their wedding, she goes to the wedding. A couple of kids fold 1989 paper cranes for Andrea, Taylor invites them to one of her concerts.
Russ thought “this is a done deal”. He didn’t write that song for Taylor because he particular liked her; he just thought she’d be the most likely artist to produce it — or at least acknowledge his existence.
I mentioned before that Russ wrote a whole-ass book about this. And I think it’s as good a time as any to talk about it. For a short amount of time, Russell chilled out about the ✨100 million dollar lawsuit ✨ but my guess is that he thought his book would get him the same results as a lawsuit? To be fair, the book is fantastic. 5/5, would recommend.
He details the harassment he went through after suing Taylor Swift (the first time). Apparently old ladies at coffee shops would scream at him because he dared to sue Our Queen. A Mexican even pointed a gun at him (it wasn’t me, guys! Just a fellow countryman ❤️) and ordered Russ to drop the lawsuit. Computers at his job caught on literal fire because he was sent very powerful viruses. His friend Ken — who definitely exists! — was hit with a Molotov cocktail. Yep. 2016 was definitely the year people were willing to murder for Taylor Swift.
There’s also this brilliant dream sequence that involves an owl with the voice of Morgan Freeman, and Taylor’s agents guarding a tower in which she’s being held captive.
ALSO ALSO: an entire chapter is called “SHE CHOSE HIM OVER ME”. Taylor Swift chose Joe Alwyn — a man she actually knows — over a man she’s not even aware exists. Women, amiright?
I think Russell would enjoy the Kaylor community to a certain extent. Not the lesbian part, obviously: he doesn’t trust women who don’t want to touch his peen. I just mean the baseless hatred of Joe. Look, I made a little collage of his rants ❤️ tell me if any of this sounds familiar!
You know — I’ve been joking around a lot about Russell just wanting to do the nasty with Taylor. But you know me, I like joking around. In reality Russ only wants what is fair. He wants to put a stop to all these senseless acts of kindness perpetrated by Taylor ‘The Generous’ Swift.
This isn’t about him at all, actually. Shame on you for thinking there’s an ounce of greed in that selfless little body of his. HE’S DOING THIS TO PROTECT THE KIDS WITH CANCER!
There are no ulterior motives here! This isn’t about a date!
THIS IS NOT ABOUT A DATE AT ALL GUYS STOP SAYING THAT.
I think this is my favourite post of his, because– grammatically speaking –he doesn’t specify which of them is wearing the red dress. And that sends me every goddamn time.
Anyway. The book, as magnificent as it was, got him absolutely nowhere. I know, I can’t believe it either. So he went back to focus on his lawsuit. But apparently not enough, because he didn’t serve her properly..? Now, don’t expect me to understand this, because I am very stupid (so it’s quite a good thing that I haven’t sued anybody for millions of dollars) but something about him sending the lawsuit to her old legal team..? And then trying to force UPS to serve her? I think he even said he was going to serve her in the middle of one of her concerts... but I’m guessing that didn’t go as planned 🤷♀️ oops.
Of course, Russie wouldn’t allow such an anticlimactic ending. Can you guess what he did? Please tell me that you can guess what he did. HE MADE ANOTHER SONG 😭❤️
This one is called ‘I Don’t Get You, Taylor Swift’. Another masterpiece that we definitely didn’t deserve 🙌
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This was around April, 2019. By then I was being lured away by Kaylors, so I broke it off with Russ. I know that he filed a 3rd lawsuit against Taylor last year, which is just like the second one but hopefully this time he’ll be able to serve. And listen— I know that sounds like an awful thing to wish on Taylor, but I’d rather have Russell occupied suing a rich woman (who isn’t even going to deal with him), than a poor sex worker in Nevada. I bet TayTay would prefer that too.
Well guys, I’ve mentioned this a few times already, but I really had to be selective with the amount of information I was going to throw at you. I’ve avoided some of the shittier stuff he said or did, because I wanted to keep these posts as lighthearted as possible. I also didn’t touch on many things because they would just derail us. Like for example: one of the few lawsuits he has filed against someone who isn’t a woman, was against the state of Utah. I know, right? He’s trying to singlehandedly legalise prostitution in Utah, and even wrote a book (more like a pamphlet) brilliantly titled ‘Why I'm Making It Legal for Your 18 Year Old Daughter to Get In Bed with a Complete Stranger for Only 500 Bucks: A Short Essay from a Pro Se Litigant who is Challenging the Utah Brothel Bans’.
I copy-pasted that title guys, I swear to god.
The book is very graphic. This one I certainly do not recommend as I still suffer nightmares because of it.
Soren is a character who also had to be cut out — which is a shame because he really tried to be a good christian and help Russell. Not as in “I support you, Russell” but as in “why don’t you take a nap, Russell”. Turns out, even cinnamon rolls have a limit. Russ, of course, blames Taylor Swift for the fact that he’s losing his friends. I’m not joking — it’s an article in his lawsuit:
Greer has lost family relationships, friend connections and business connections because of the trauma of Taylor Swift. His family tells him to "get over it," resulting in shouting matches and strained relationships. Greer's friends get annoyed by his focusing on the trauma of it, when nobody knows the pain of getting rejected by a public figure — twice — and the fallout that has resulted from it.
Russell embodies that comic/meme of the little guy who puts a stick in his bicycle’s wheels and then blames Taylor Swift when he inevitably falls.
Sooooo...
Maybe someday I’ll write a post about Russ’ latest antics. I know he still posts stupid stuff on Facebook, which he later deletes. He shined especially bright at the peak of the BLM movement. He also plead guilty to electronic communications harassment— did you see that conviction coming? Yes, yes you did 😌
Regarding Taylor, I read that Russ knew someone who knew Todrick Hall — and Russ sent him a song and video for Taylor. All he got back was a Cease and Desist letter. But I’d have to do a bit of digging to get the details. I was already so overwhelmed with organising the information I was previously aware of, that I decided to leave the newer stuff for another time. You know, once I’ve had some time to inform myself... as well as a really long shower.
Since I left so much shit out, I’ll be taking questions if you have any. And if you can muster the courage to ask them. I’m weirdly proud of being some kind of Russell encyclopaedia. I might not have much going for me...
There’s no ‘but’ — that was the complete statement.
Before I go, I wanted to add this screenshot. I absolutely love it because it summarises ✨The Russell Experience✨. Russ wants Taylor to know pain, poverty and punishment. But when asked “why?” his answer is just “oh, I was ignored lol”
*none of the screenshots are mine
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Oh.
My.
Fucking.
God.
Sometimes, when I pause in the middle of an episode, Crunchyroll will take it upon myself to say I finished it and start me on the next one. Usually, I catch this and go back. Usually I'm not in this much pain. This particular time I was, and so I didn't realize I had missed anything until I was going back to collect a screenshot that came out wrong.
And do you know what I missed?
DO YOU KNOW WHAT I FUCKING MISSED!?
I... Like.... I boys and smile hug face eys hey you I....
It's okay. Give me a second. I do know how words work.
I just can't handle them right now, that's all.
I mean look at them! Look at my two sword boys! Just look how cute!
No, I mean, really look at them. Study the moment, take it all in. Because I'm going to need someone here to explain to me what is SUPPOSEDLY happening here. I mean, without a doubt, I know what is actually happening, but for the life of me I can't think of how to describe this moment that doesn't boil down to, "obviously cause they want to bang" and somehow I doubt that is what they were going for.
Here, let me lead you through this:
As we have discussed, there is a party happening. Everyone is enjoying themselves in their own little ways: Franky is behaving like a mech to entertain the fairies, Zoro is drinking, Bartolomeo is following Zoro around with more drinks, Luffy is just a bouncing ball of food, Law is standing alone off to the side glaring out into the middle distant. So everyone is having their own fun.
Zoro, apropos of nothing, walks over to Law to talk to him.
Okay..
Weird.
This isn't Luffy or Franky or even Robin. Zoro doesn't just go talk to people. So far we have seen every other Strawhat at this gathering dancing or talking or laughing with someone. The only people Zoro has interacted with are people with bottles of alcohol they want to share with him.
You guys, Law does not have a bottle of alcohol.
So why has the least social member of the Strawhats purposefully sought him out? By the way, "come here?" Oh you sweet innocent sunflower. Why not just open with, "Torao! Hey Torao! Laaaw, come here! I want to hang off you out!"
[Oh you bet your ass we will be going through this scene shot by shot.]
At which point Zoro squats down, and even though it's not his "fly into the sky and cut him up!!!" smile, there is definitely more than a small hint of "danger approaching" to that grin, like he's trying to decide what to do with his prey.
Law doesn't look overly happy about any of this and has clearly decided the best policy is just to ignore Zoro. Let's see how that goes for him.
Every single thing about these pictures is perfect. From Law completely losing his mask of dark seriousness, to Zoro's smile going from over the top, clearly laughing his ass off at Law's reaction, to a slightly more dangerous but still brilliant 'got you now' once Law falls into his lap.
You know that moment in the second from the top. That moment where LAW FALLS INTO ZORO'S LAP?
And finally, my boy's just honestly smiling, having apparently achieved his goal of getting Law in his lap having Law on top of him forcing Law to join in, I guess.
I mean, look at his face! That's not a maniacal grin, isn't leering at him the way he does when he sees something he really wants to cut into pieces. He's not beaming in that way that shows all his teeth and means he's reallying messing with/laughing at you, nor is it his smug victory smirk, the one that means he's already won but still looks preditory for some reason. That is just an honest, happy smile.
For Law.
If Drum island suddenly experienced months of 90° weather it still couldn't represent how much I'm melting inside from that.
Not too mentioned Law's look of total shock. I don't think he's even actually struggling, you guys. I mean, Zoro's strong but not so strong his mere presence prevents the Op-Op fruit from working. I honestly think Law is just freaked out because he's forgotten what physical contact with other humans is like unless he is either actively fighting them. Look at his eyes. They have gone completely BSoD. He has no fucking clue what is happening or why it has to be happening to him.
No wait you guys it somehow keeps getting better!
Because Zoro just sitting there, holding onto Law for like two minutes, smiling and laughing and, okay, sure clearly a little drunk but absolutely having a great time. The only thing that manages to pull his attention off Law for even a second is when he's offered more alcohol and you guys?
Guys, he doesn't even react to the offer of free alcohol immediately!
[Law's face says he either knows he's in trouble if Zoro keeps drinking or he knows he's in trouble that Zoro didn't immediately give him up for more alcohol.]
And of course Law is still completely frazzled. "Why is Zoro-ya touching me where not in a fight right now and he's acting all friendly is he planning some kind of sneak attack? No this is Zoro-ya he thrown himself off a mountain to fight another mountain but he's still holding me and acting friendly and arg I cannot handle this what is happening!?"
I love how Law is angling his body as if he's scared of leaning back and actually Ohmigod touching Zoro, but at the same time, making non real effort to escape. Honestly, watch the gif. The boy doesn't even push, really
He's basically sitting there, not trying to get away, but feelings horribly nervous and desperately trying not to lean against Zoro.
[Give in, Law. I'll bet Zoro is all warm and fabulous to cuddle with.]
Basically, this is what my gay brain sees: You know when you like a girl (or guy) but you're both pretty quiet and shy (or silent and badass serious) plus, you know, you're both dealing with a lot what with almost being murdered and taking down an evil regimen. So there is no way you'd ever ask them out or anything.
But then, miracle of miracles, you both live! Everyone lives! And there's a huge celebration with food and drinks and even more drinks and you are a goddamn sword heddghog who defeat a mountain so people keep filling your cup and the you notice the cute emo boy sitting all alone looking so grim even though you guys won! And you're just tipsy enough to think yourself, fuck it, no one that hot should be alone all night so you go over and without thinking about it, grab him and pull him over to your lap.
And you know when you're really not good with people and ha e this reputation for being dark and broody and even in the middle of a party it doesn't feel normal to relax after years of constantly thinking about revenage. Then suddenly a bit guy has you in your arms and it's super embarrassing because you have no idea what to do and know your going to humiliate yourself and just want to get out there but he just keeps his (really musclar, warm) arm curled around you feel you have to protest the manhandling even thought you aren't sure why?
I mean if I had to take a random stab at what these guys were thinking.
I mean, I assume that the official explanation probably has some perfectly innocent heterosexual justification as to why the less sociable Strawhat absolutely had to pull Law in for an impromptu snuggles session but fuck if I can see it through all the gay.
Quick, someone with a straight brain, please explain to me what is happening in this scene!
Because otherwise every time I see the two of them interact after this, I'm gonna be forced to assume that canonically speaking, Zoro struck out with Law.
This is the single greatest moment ever.
#roronoa zoro#trafalgar d. water law#trafalgar law#does zoro always go around just clinging onto random hot guys when drunk?#is that all?#moment of pure wonder#one piece#dressarosa#shipping#zolaw#zoro x law#this post got long#I have a lot of feeling about Zoro#I have a lot of feelings about Law#Zolaw I can take or leave#By which I mean I will take all the ZoLaw or I will be leaving
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...Click (M)
Author: kpopfanfictrash
Pairing: Jungkook / Reader
Rating: 18+
Warnings: edging, oral (female), g-spot stimulation, squirting, jjk is a troll
WC: 2,151
Summary: You have been dating your boyfriend, Jungkook, for a few months; hovering right in that sweet spot between falling and fallen. Based loosely on the premise of this tweet, as retweeted by @johobi (asldfjas):
“Mm,” you groan, wiggling into the sheets of your mattress. “There, Jungkook, there… ah, that feels good.”
He looks up, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs. “Yeah?” Jungkook exhales, licking his lips. The lower one is wet, due to the rather lengthy amount of time he has been eating you out. “Do you want to come, or…” He trails off, arching a brow.
The TV flickers behind him, casting your room in a dark-blueish glow. You two were watching a movie when Jungkook first arrived. It had been a crappy week before that, full of annoying customers and extended hours at work. You were looking forward to eating disgustingly unhealthy food, drinking half a bottle of wine and falling asleep before midnight.
Jungkook changed your plans, intercepting at the door with a bag full of Thai food and his own bottle of wine. Literally – you met him at your door. He had been texting you prior, asking what you were planning on ordering tonight and what time you were getting off work. Despite the stream of questioning, he ended up at your apartment way before you did, camped out in your hallway when you trudged up the stairs to your walk-up.
Not that you were unhappy to see him, of course – just the opposite. It is early on in your relationship though, and Jungkook has never seen you like this before. Grubby and annoyed, shoving spicy wings in your mouth with your head on his shoulder. Luckily, he does not seem annoyed by this fact; instead, he seems to be smiling whenever you glance at him to check.
That was earlier in the night though, before you popped in a movie to relax on your bedspread. At some point, Jungkook placed his arm around your shoulders. You honestly cannot remember when. He can be so cute about things like that – hesitant, as though he thinks you might shrug him off. The idea is laughable, given the fact you have let him do much more, uh, intimate things to you than that.
God. For Jungkook, you seem to have broken all your rules – haven’t you? Before, you always gave yourself a five-date requiem. Five dates before you decide to sleep with a guy but with Jungkook, you found yourself pressed to the wall in a heavy make-out session shortly after the end of the first date. He was just so perfect – a mix of endearing and dangerous, with his dark bed-head hair and that worn leather jacket. You caved entirely after the second date, barely making it through dinner before you dragged him back to your apartment and fucked him into your bed.
Shivering, you are brought back to the present by Jungkook’s hands sliding over your knees. Somewhere in the middle of the movie he began mouthing down the slope of your neck. Jungkook’s kisses are nice; soft and insistent with just the right amount of pressure. You hummed and leaned into him, allowing further transgression and before long, he was shifting to lie between your legs, kissing up the skin of your thighs.
The leggings you wore are now bunched on the ground; your underwear has disappeared as well, flung somewhere across the room. Jungkook keeps inching your t-shirt higher, exposing your stomach. You giggle when he does this, since your bedroom is cold. His mouth is warm, though, wet and open against the curve of your skin. Jungkook really loves eating you out – this is something you learned the second time the two of you had sex.
The first time, everything was frantic and hurried. You slammed his back to the bed; he flipped you over mid-way to fuck you hard from behind. The second time was slower, lazier and that was when you realized Jeon Jungkook is whipped for pussy – yours, in particular. He loves to eat you out, gets hard from you dripping and messy before him; he could do it for hours and shit, if you don’t love to indulge him in that particular fantasy.
Take now, for instance. Jungkook has been lying between your legs for over twenty minutes, eagerly eating you out while you become gradually whinier. At first, everything was fine. His lips were soft, pressing kisses into your skin and ghosting over the more sensitive areas. Then, he opened his mouth, occasionally flicking his tongue while you shifted against him. Now, his tongue is fully involved, dragging up and down your folds while you groan.
You are soaked; you know this due to the arousal slipping between your legs to pool at your ass. “You’re ruining my sheets,” you groan, throwing one hand over your face.
He chuckles, breath tickling your body. “Nah, you are. Does that mean you want to come?”
You peek at him quickly from under your arm. “No,” you mumble, shifting your hips. “I like it when you do this.”
Jungkook’s eyes glint, teasing. “When I do what?” he murmurs, dragging a finger down your wetness. You shiver when he slips this slowly inside, stretching you out and readying you for his cock. “You like not coming until I say so?”
“Mmph,” you grunt, shifting to try and push him in further. His finger is not nearly enough, not with how wet you already are. “I like anything you do to me, yeah.”
He grins, curling his legs underneath him to sit up on your bed. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls, straining his t-shirt while he pushes a second finger inside you.
“Oh,” you moan, legs jerking upwards.
Jungkook slowly circles your clit with his thumb, leaving his other fingers buried knuckle-deep inside. He bends, brushing a kiss to your hip and then, inexplicably, snorts.
Your eyes fly open. “I – Jungkook?” you mutter, uncertain what is happening. If there was a funny part of the movie, you definitely missed it. Honestly, it would be vaguely insulting if he were still watching the movie.
He looks up, lips pressed together in a guilty attempt not to laugh. “I’m sorry,” he grins, unable to help himself. “It’s just…”
He still rubs your clit, one finger slipping in and out of your body and fuck, it is hard to care what he finds so hilarious when he is turning you into such a dripping mess.
“What?” you grind out, groaning as you tighten around him.
“This motion,” Jungkook explains, nodding to his hand. “It’s just like holding an iPhone, you know? When you wanna take a screenshot? With my thumb here,” he strokes, “and my finger inside you, it’s like –”
“Oh my god.”
“– like I’m taking a screenshot of your pussy.”
“Oh, my fucking god.”
“……..click.”
“Jungkook,” you gasp, snapping your legs shut on his hand. He pauses, eyes wide and innocent and – fuck, why is he so adorable? – you laugh before you can help it. The motion starts in your chest, a weak giggle escaping and before you know it, you are concave with laughter. “You’re so horrible,” you groan, cracking up.
Jungkook grins, tackling you backwards on top of your bed. He sloppily kisses your face, undoing his jeans with one hand in between your legs. “Please, can I fuck you?” he begs, eagerly rutting against you. “Please, please, pretty please?”
“Ugh,” you groan, wrapping your arms around his neck and opening your thighs. “Fine – get a condom. To be honest,” you murmur, kissing his neck while he rolls one onto his length. “If we’re continuing said metaphor, I don’t feel like you take a screenshot unless you hit my g-spot.”
Jungkook pauses, wide-eyed. Holding his cock in one hand, he rubs this against you while considering the challenge. “Babe,” he whines, looking down with almost a pout. “This isn’t fair. Now, I wanna try it – but also… I really wanna fuck you.”
“Hm,” you muse, arching. You brush his chest with your breasts. “Better make a decision, baby.” At his tortured expression, you laugh. “It’s okay,” you murmur, dragging your hands down his back. “You can try that out later.”
Jungkook nods, tongue poking his cheek. Not waiting any longer, he thrusts deftly inside you. You gasp when he bottoms out, feeling split by the motion. Honestly, if you were not so wet, it would be almost painful. Jungkook’s eyes glint, a slight smirk on his lips because he knows how big he is – you enthusiastically praise this fact about him, especially on nights when you drink.
It is a game to you. Stand next to him in the club, whispering how good his cock would feel down your throat. Tease him until he snaps, grabs your wrist and drags you out of the bar. Then, once you are home and sober, you worship his cock with your tongue until he comes down your throat.
Jungkook shifts inside you now, staring with narrowed eyes, as though he is waiting for something. His hand strokes your side, pushing up your t-shirt as his cock thrusts forward. To be honest, you are not sure what he is waiting for – arching on the bed, you grow impatient.
“Jungkook,” you moan, wrapping both legs around his waist. Hurriedly, you drag your hands down his back. “What are you doing? Fuck me.”
“Mmh,” he exhales, sounding out of breath. His ass clenches beneath your fingers, searching for – something. Staring at your face, Jungkook cocks a brow. “I will, I just…” Shifting again, he props himself up for greater leverage, changing his angle until suddenly –
“O-oh,” you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut. He has done it. Jeon Jungkook, the great, the mighty, the idiotic, has found your g-spot. With your hips lifted like that, it presses his giant cock to the front of your walls. The sensation makes you shake, overwhelmed as he slowly withdraws.
Then, Jungkook pushes back in. The noise alone is enough that you moan because fuck, are you wet and fuck, is he good at this. His cock hits your g-spot again and, seeing the way your eyes flutter shut, he breaks out in a grin.
“There?” he asks smugly, knowing he’s found it.
“Mhm,” you groan, tangling his hair in your fingers. Yanking his ear to your lips, you say, “Now, move.”
Jungkook obeys, thrusting with an eagerness that betrays how badly he wants you. His hips snap forward, hitting your ass as you start to see stars. The sensation is overwhelming, even more when Jungkook throws your legs over his shoulders and fucks you like that. His hips are hard, unrepentant and you can do nothing but lie there and take it. Your g-spot is intense and the pleasure builds quickly, sending you spiraling.
“Oh,” you gasp, hands fisting in the sheets, his hair, yanking him closer. “Fuck, Jungkook. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come.”
“Yeah, you are,” he grunts, hair plastered sweatily to his forehead. “I’ve never felt you like this before – you’re so fucking tight, babe.”
“You’re so good,” you moan, barely able to speak – he is fucking you so hard, nothing seems to make sense. “God, I love your cock. You can say whatever weird shit you want about my pussy being an iPhone – just keep. Fucking. Me. Oh!”
Jungkook grins, kissing you messily – he continues to laugh, making your teeth knock roughly together. You nip his lower lip in response, arching your back. “Stop laughing, you ass!” you groan.
“Sorry, I’m trying!” Jungkook huffs – only to furrow his brow, adopting a look of intense concentration which has you swallowing hard. Both your bodies are sweaty, making every inch of your skin tingle; alive and on fire.
He pulls back, watching his cock thrusting in and out of your body. “Shit, babe,” he whines, grabbing onto your hips. “I wish you could see how hot you are. You take my cock so well.”
Newly invigorated, Jungkook bends, trapping your leg between his chest and yours. He continues to fuck you like that, fingers slipping between your legs, rubbing your clit and making you shake. “C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, watching your face. “Come for me. I wanna see you squirt, like you did last time I did this.”
You moan, closing your eyes to concentrate on the feeling of his cock, the building pleasure and his fingers dancing over your front. It is too much, too tight and wet and perfect and – unable to take it, you come. Gasping his name, you lose control for a moment. Body shaking, you feel yourself squirt, all over Jungkook’s dick and onto the sheets.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he gasps, dropping down to his elbows and fucking you rougher. He chases his release, hard and fast as you begin to wind down. When he comes, his entire body clenches and you grin, pressing kisses to his shoulder until he collapses against you.
“God,” Jungkook moans, breathing hard for a moment before pulling out of your body. Rolling off your bed, Jungkook ties the condom in half to toss into the trash. “That was amazing. You’re amazing,” he groans, pushing a hand through his hair.
“And you’re amazingly weird,” you giggle, collapsing backwards while Jungkook rolls onto the bed.
He grabs the blanket around your ankles, pulling it up to curl into your side. Since you began dating, you learned Jeon Jungkook is a cuddler. Never did you imagine that you would be, as well but for him – well, it seems all your rules have been broken.
The movie continues to play in the background, though neither one of you watch it.
© kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.
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reminder: yall on ao3 real nice, also i love you thank you so much
also i’m gonna go ahead and post chapter 5 here in its entirety too (under a cut, natch) just in case. meanwhile, i’m chopping and screwing screenshots into big huge frankenstein images so i can obsess over canon conversations and lore on the go! some of these screenshots are just pure comedy though. post ‘em later! anyway, here it is in case you missed it:
Chapter 5: Home and Hearth
---
Edér wondered sometimes just how long it would take his hometown to finally die.
It reminded him of this dog he used to know when he was a kid, a sweet old hound dog called Tibbeth. She was the Rask's dog, but the whole town knew her, cared for her, fed her scraps. Everyone loved that dog. By the time Edér was old enough to make lasting memories, she was reaching the end of her breeding years, and she only mellowed out further with each year that passed. He remembered her fondly from his childhood: Tibby making him late for dawn church service because she sat on his feet and wouldn't stop giving him Sad Eyes till he rubbed her tummy. Tibby wandering between two arguing friends and licking herself so ostentatiously that the argument was completely forgotten, ending in peals of laughter instead of fisticuffs.
But as he grew into an adolescent, Tibby grew elderly and decrepit. Her teeth and fur fell out. She limped. Her scat was watery and thin, and she tended to let it fall wherever she stood. Her belly distended, and she started getting mean and lashing out at those who tried to touch her, tried to help her.
He had known there was something growing inside of her that was hurting her, and what was worse, he had known that there was nothing anyone could do to help her. But to Edér, the worst thought of all was that she was still in there under it all. Under all the pain and fear, sweet old Tibby was still in there wanting nothing but belly rubs and bits of ham from your plate. It was the sickness made her snap at you, made her shit all over herself and struggle and scream while you tried to clean her up. Made her scared.
And it was this sickness that made his hometown like this, now. And just like with Tibby, there was nothing he could do to help. No way to excise the tumor. His gaze wandered to the corpse-strewn monster of a tree nearby. Nothing left to do but end it mercifully.
But he hadn't even had it in him to watch as Tibby was put down all those years ago. She had scratched and bitten the Gyrning's baby girl, and even though she was old and half toothless, she did enough damage to scar the child for life. He had run away back then, hiding the tears he had been getting too old to shed so freely anymore.
He sighed heavily, barely squinting against the feeble morning sunlight as he gazed out over the only home he had ever known.
"We're both gettin' too old for this, ain't we?" Edér murmured.
Gilded Vale did not answer him.
The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end, and he turned slowly, carefully, to look at the tree again. He wasn't alone.
---
The rest of the morning hadn't gone so badly.
She'd suffered a nightmare, she'd explained, and the strange hallucinations she'd told him about before had decided to manifest at the worst possible time: exactly when she had woken up. Hence the... episode she'd had. Understandable, given the circumstances.
Unfortunately, she did still want to go back to that tree. "For closure," she'd pleaded. "It'll only take a moment, I promise you."
They had dressed and packed their meager belongings in awkward silence, making it all the way downstairs to a table with their bowls of tepid porridge in hand before she had spoken up again.
"I'm sorry," she'd stated, stirring the beige mess in her bowl with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner fastening her own noose. "That was probably a... distinctly unpleasant experience for you. And this little detour probably will be, too. ...Please know that I truly appreciate your agreeing to accompany me nonetheless."
She sounded as though she'd been planning this apology all morning, phrasing and rephrasing it in her head until she could strike a palatable balance between being honest with him and maintaining etiquette. Aloth had accepted without hesitation, of course. He had almost apologized to her himself in return, for perhaps having seen... more than she may have wanted a near-stranger to see, but he had thought better of it and remained silent instead. He hadn't wanted to embarrass her by bringing up her strange behavior again. She seemed to appreciate it.
And now he was standing a few paces behind her in the center of town as she stared at a dead woman in a tree.
They had been standing there for fifteen minutes.
"She's aff 'er heed, lad."
"Nobody asked you," he sighed through gritted teeth.
---
Axa regarded the new, dark world in which she found herself with fear and wonder. She had expected to see the dead woman, feel a little foolish, and then set off on the road. She had not been expecting this at all.
Caldara de Berranzi's soul looked back at her, smiling a gentle, motherly smile.
"What is this?" She said it, but she didn't, just like in her dream. "What's happened to me?"
And the animancer responded in the same fashion. "Poor thing! You must be so confused. The world is a baffling place, and the world beyond the Shroud even more so. But that world is yours now, too, to bear witness to."
"I don't understand," Axa whimpered. She really, really didn't. She didn't even know if this was really happening.
The dwarven woman's soul smiled sadly at the little orlan, tsked in sympathy. "I know you don't, dear. It's a lot to take in. Here, let me put it this way: Whatever happened to you, it freed your soul from your body, but not all the way. You were pulled into this world--" The dwarf gestured at the swirling morass of essence and void around them-- "the In-Between of Life and Death. But! You must have only been here for an instant. Any longer, and you'd have ended up staying here, like me." Caldara gestured at herself, a bloated corpse dangling from a tree, with a sweet little chuckle.
"Your soul remembers, though. Remembers even after it returns to your body. Remembers how it sees in this world. Souls, their histories, their memories, their paths through the In-Between. All are yours to observe." The animancer nodded sagely.
"You are a Watcher, now," she chirped, "and a Watcher you will stay."
Axa blinked. Watcher. The word from her dream.
"I... I don't know what that means at all."
Caladara sighed softly. "Oh dear, oh dear. Make yourself comfortable, aimoranet. We have a lot more talking to do."
---
Aloth was starting to feel uneasy.
It had been just over 20 minutes now, and Axa still stood in the same spot, mesmerized by the dead animancer. They were drawing curious stares from townsfolk as they passed by, and he was getting nervous about what might happen-- what might come out of his mouth-- should one of them try to start something.
He glanced around furtively, his open grimoire like a leaden weight in his hands, searching for anything to focus on besides the fact that he'd apparently elected to travel with this woman. A blond man with a pipe, leaning casually against a collapsed wall some distance away, cocked an eyebrow at him. The message was completely unspoken, but easily understood. "Uh, your friend okay there?"
He shot back a look that he hoped said both "Mind your own business, please" and "I have absolutely no idea why she's doing this," somehow.
The man with the pipe shrugged, glanced up at the dead dwarf, then turned away. Aloth took the opportunity to study him a bit further, recognizing him vaguely from his time in town. He'd seen this man around, although not as much in recent weeks. He was vaguely aware of the Vale's day-to-day goings-on, and he seemed to recall seeing less of this particular face around the same time the local lord strung up his latest hapless victim in this gruesome abomination of a tree. Aloth tried to remember exactly who that victim had been...
...before noticing, with a start, that Axa had moved. She'd snapped out of whatever strange fugue state had taken hold of her and she stood before him now, looking for all the world like a child woken prematurely from a nap: confused, angry, morose.
He proceeded extremely cautiously. "Axa? Are you alright?" He leaned a bit closer for privacy's sake. "You seemed... a bit lost, there." For almost half an hour.
Either she didn't notice his attempt at discretion or she didn't care. "According to that dead woman," she blurted, "I'm a Watcher."
He felt his eyebrows leap up to his hairline. "Oh. Well. That... explains a lot, actually."
---
Edér had watched the elf and the orlan the entire time they stood before the tree.
The elf he'd seen around town here and there recently, but he'd never interacted with the man. Of course, he'd heard others talking about him, saying all kinds of things: a haughty foreigner who thinks he can bring his high-falutin' Aedyran ass here and piss on our hospitality. But given the usual kind of horseshit his fellow townsfolk usually spewed these days, he didn't put much merit in what they had to say. At least he tended to mind his own business.
The orlan had just arrived the previous day, and when he saw Raedric's henchman approach her, he'd actually tensed up, preparing for a fight. With everything he'd heard about orlans, he was half expecting her to pull a knife, or maybe even whisper some sort of cipher magic. But instead she'd just shouted at Urgeat, mad as Hel and rightfully so. Edér had been unable to stop himself smiling at the look on the magistrate's pinched-up little asshole of a face.
Then the bell had tolled, and suddenly everyone in town had bigger issues to deal with. She'd looked positively miserable as she'd trudged past him on the way to the Black Hound Inn.
Look at that, he'd thought, watching her plod slowly forward. Practically one of us already.
She'd met his eye for a moment, and he'd raised his pipe to her in a commiserative gesture. "Welcome to our lovely town," he'd quipped. And she had smiled at him in response, even after all that abuse she'd just had to take from Urgeat.
Maybe that was why he'd decided to say something when she passed him again. She didn't look to be in any higher spirits than she had when he'd said something before, but she had smiled at him back then, so what was the worst that could happen this time?
"Seventeen-and-a-half," he called out to her, and grinned. She's a little kith, maybe she'll like this one.
She and the elf turned to him, both of them wearing facial expressions similar to ones they might have had he catcalled them in an especially vulgar manner.
...Off to a great start, Edér thought. Nothing to do but press on.
"Eighteen dependin' on if you count the dwarf woman as a full person or not. ...I think you oughtta."
She approached him then, slowly, scrutinizing him with her eerie slitted pupils, while the elven man followed behind her. "You're saying there are eighteen people hanging in that tree?"
"Last I counted. You mean to tell me you were standin' there that whole time and you wasn't even counting 'em?"
Her cheeks brightened, and she turned to the elf. "Aloth? How long was I-- were we standing there like that?"
The elf, Aloth apparently, winced apologetically at the little woman. "Oh, only about... about twenty minutes. Ish."
The orlan huffed out something between a laugh and a cough. "Only twenty minutes!" She shook her head, grinning, hands on her hips. "Excellent. I was worried I looked like a weird asshole for a minute there."
Edér laughed aloud at last, and held out his hand in greeting. "Edér Teylecg. Although y' may as well just call me Nineteen."
"Axa Mala." He felt soft, fine fur in his hand when she shook it, and with it an extremely confusing mix of emotions. The elf behind her introduced himself as well, as Aloth Corfiser, before she continued. "Nineteen, huh. You mean to say you think you're next?"
Edér smiled sadly, looking up at his friends and neighbors in the tree. "May as well be. Eighteen's my former captain in the war. Was my headman on the farm till Raedric put 'im up there for darin' to stand up for us. For me." He squinted back down at the little woman, clenching his pipe between his teeth. "Bein' honest though, way you were carryin' on with the magistrate the other day, I can't see you makin' it much further than, oh, 22, 23, tops. You seem like the sort of lady likes t' get involved."
She really did, too. For the first time since they'd started talking, her gaze met his, and the intensity of her bright violet eyes almost made him want to look away. Not quite. But almost.
She had a strange, guarded look on her face as she peered up at him. "Do you know what a Watcher is?"
Edér choked on his pipe smoke. This little gal was full of surprises.
---
"Caed Nua, huh? ...Haven't thought about that old place in a long time. Man such as Maerwald, there might be things I wanna ask him. Don't know why I never thought of that."
Obscured One, you have truly outdone yourself this time, Axa mused, a slow smile spreading across her face. This was what she'd been missing after her expulsion: A mission, a purpose, a destination in life.
I was ready to die, and you gave me this gift: an absolutely insane convoluted nightmare scenario, compelling me to try to make sense of it... and in doing so, requiring me to stay alive. I am truly grateful. She closed one eye, sending her prayer to Wael.
It was remarkable how much better she felt just knowing what was wrong with her, having a name for it. Watcher. The knowledge presented new challenges, certainly, but at least now she knew what she was up against. And she even had a tangible, short-term goal in mind:
Get to Caed Nua. Find the Watcher, Maerwald.
The blond folk, Edér, scratched his bristly beard while he thought about her offer. But she could tell he'd already made up his mind. This couldn't go any other way. She'd seen him in her dream, alongside Caldara. A clear sign! This was meant to be!
...Okay, maybe she was taking it a bit too far there.
"I dunno about settin' out with a couple of strangers. Strange strangers at that." He glanced at Aloth and grinned apologetically. "No offense, cousin."
"I'll vouch for him," Axa smiled, stretching, preparing for the work ahead of her. "It's me you have to watch out for."
Aloth shrugged. "Either way, you're probably better off out there with us than here, being sized up for a noose by every other neighbor."
"Can't argue with that. Aw, what the Hel. Sure, I'll do some sightseeing with you folks." Edér grinned at the two of them, his broad, ruddy face brightening considerably. "Where's our first stop on this little roadtrip? We're buyin' supplies, I suppose?"
Axa winced, clutching at her sad, barren little coinpurse. "Uh. Listen... About that--"
---
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no reblog
it's just like... hwh's post was absolutely cruel & misogynistic, but it is kind of suspect to watch the wild spinning out of control response to her grow and grow, have seen women outright saying she must not have an eating disorder (she is recovered from anorexia 6.5 years after 16 years, most of them spent as a ballerina), implying she must just be a fat woman who wants to bully anorexics (she is thin), acting as if her caution about structured, calorie-counting based exercise (as opposed to natural joyful movement) as someone who nearly died from a behavioral addiction to exercise in cojunction with anorexia means she wants everyone to be sedentary, completely ignoring that a jewish woman who isn't a pop fan might have a little bit of reason to be annoyed with taylor swift even though that was mentioned in her original post (cropped out in all screenshots! weird), acting as if her speaking about the harms that moralizing the consumption of junk food does to the mental health of impoverished people means she doesn't believe in eating vegetables, speaking like her talking about the benefits of processed food for refeeding for anorexic women who have digestive systems damaged from extreme starvation means she thinks you should only eat freezer pizzas & ice cream, acting as if her anger/annoyance with a megacelebrity means she could never be an effective therapist to the normal, working class people she is interacting with (as far as i know she is not ed therapist to the stars), acting as if bc she “has brown hair and eyes” (you mean bc she’s jewish?!) she’s “just jealous” of blonde and blue eyed women, ignoring that she said "do not reblog" on her petty ass, misogynistic cranky post about the highest paid woman in music which obviously is completely futile on a blogging website with no privacy settings but clearly distinguishes it from posts of substance she writes for reblogging, saying she's some sort of incredibly class privileged person bc she's in grad school, saying she never has does anything for anyone with eating disorders as if she hasn't created a REALLY sound curriculum for a body image consciousness raising group, acting as if she doesn't understand that people with anorexia suffer when like 3 posts down on her blog she posts about a longtime friend who recently died from anorexia, when she repeatedly refers to the extremely high lethality of anorexia, calls it the deadly disease that it is, that she recognizes the social context of anorexia in a fat-hating society, a diet/beauty culture. there were some very thoughtful responses to her post, but i also saw women call her a libtard, stupid, a bitch, saying they want to pull her hair (?!). i am not stupid, i know the unleashing of bitterness when i see it, i know when women are waiting to rip into a woman who really pisses them off, whose analysis causes them genuine distress because it is challenging. hwh saying that eating disorders are intertwined with the oppressive force (on all women, all people!!) of weight stigma was so radical to me, as radical as reading detransitioned lesbians talking about how dysphoria & disidentification from womanhood is inextricably intertwined with misogyny. to name what is so obvious but either ignored or outright denied, it's so powerful to me! you do not have to deem all people with eating disorders as hateful bigots (or all trans men as gender traitors!) to name the patriarchal forces that we are all assaulted by since birth. i don't agree with hwh's post. the idea that taylor swift is responsible for anyone else's eating disorder is ludicrous, it is anti-feminist, anti-feminist consciousness. but to watch this unleashing of steadily spinning out of control criticism rise is so familiar & transparent to me as a woman who is aware of the almost complete disdain for feminist analysis that addresses weight stigma in a radical feminist context. and no, i don't care that this a block of text, i don't want to address any of the particular women who made the posts i've seen, bc it is a pointless conversation online, and one i do not often go into offline bc of how incredibly painful & fraught it is for everybody involved, myself included. i have written at length & am continuing to work on pieces about what working through my misogynistic feelings about thin women was like for me and was one of the very first things i did after coming into radical feminist consciousness, something i will attempt to maintain no matter how often there are opportunities for those ugly, unfair, anti-feminist feelings to rear their ugly head! so that's that. thanks for coming to real fat crazy bitch hours
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unreasonable/crazy rules i have
I understand that I probably sound like a massive spoiled brat right now, but i need to rant.
[i know nobody even wants to read this but i want to rant so ]
strict parents are awesome
- 8pm bedtime. No exceptions. Even in the summer, when I can hear everybody else outside having fun. I am fourteen. In Year 10. No staying up “late”, ever. 5 minutes over my bedtime when I have no clock in my room? I’m “taking advantage of my parents relaxing and having free time.” and I get a royal go at. I’m not allowed to go to the bathroom, go downstairs and get a drink, or I get shouted at massively. It used to be 7pm, but I turned 12 two years ago and BEGGED HARD.
- I wasn’t allowed to listen to any other music than what was on the 80s radio and Minecraft parodies. No, I’m not kidding. I can recite to you every word of Wrecking Ball (Minecraft Parody), Don’t Mine At Night, Hunger Games, and the list goes on.
- I’m not allowed to FaceTime or call my friends. It would be pointless, anyways, since I’m not allowed upstairs so I would have no privacy anyways.
- No answering back. Under ANY circumstances. You dare say no to me?! You dare lay this kind of disrespect to me, your mother, who hasn’t sat down all day? Who works so hard just to make sure I have a good life? Preposterous.
- Phone, iPad, laptop: not allowed upstairs in any circumstances. Any. I mean fucking any. I have fond memories of writing out long, winding Sims 4 codes by hand just so I could go upstairs and use them on my PlayStation. Also, things I have “abused” get locked up in the safe.
It’s weird, as well, since it wasn’t about spending time with my family. I just wasn’t allowed upstairs with any of it. I spent all my time in the other room where my family couldn’t see what I was doing and they didn’t give two shits.
- No watching various age rated films unless you are that age. Actually, fuck you, you’re that age now but “I don’t like you watching it.”
- No NERF guns. No “violence” of any sort. Just ???????
- I used to be banned from saying the word “hate”, and my parents are still disapproving of it. Same goes for “stupid”, “idiot”, and so on.
- My parents must know my phone password at all times. They will randomly, when they feel like it, pick up my phone and start going through it. This includes my photos, messages, friends and all the supposed “hoRRiBLE TERriBLe THinGS” I must have been doing. People who had this rule know the absolute heart attack it brings.
Also, just the sheer amount of content that is blocked. TVs have passwords, my father’s computer has a password, etc etc.
- This is one I still have. No leaving the table unless you’ve eaten all your dinner. I am fourteen. Don’t like it? Don’t care. It’s gOod FoR YOu. And to be frank, I’m not even THAT much of a picky eater. Its literally just potatoes and spag bol that disgust me in particular. I’m not allowed to eat anything else for the rest of the evening if I disobey, and I’ll be banned for the evening or even day after on whatever’s keeping me occupied at the moment.
- No privacy. No locking doors, even the bathroom door, no being “secretive”, just, in short: no privacy.
- No asking where we’re going during car rides. This is deemed as “asking too many questions”, you’re giving me a headache, and questions are “annoying”. This is more lax now I’m older, but I definitely remember this from my younger years.
- Phones, iPads, laptop all downstairs at 7pm. Not allowed on them / anywhere near them after 7pm. If my parents can’t actively see them, then they will use the pinging sound on Find My iPhone to come up and give me a good ass whooping.
- This isn’t a rule, but despite sending me to bed at 8 every night: ____ happened? It’s because you’re tired. Bags under your eyes that won’t go away no matter what, even after sleeping after 9pm every night? You’re tired. Bad mood? You’re grumpy. Get more sleep, slave.
- I have to be there the instant my parents call for me. No shouting back “What?” or staying there for a moment: unacceptable. Be here immediately. And oftentimes it isn’t even something imperative.
- Always eat at the dinner table. No technology allowed at the dinner table, even when eating alone.
- This isn’t a rule either, but because of it. I’m always late to reply because I can never, ever have my notifications on. I once had a notification from a YouTube comment I made and my parents screenshotted it and everything. They sat me down at the table and forced me to explain everything. I dragged it out for long enough, before the actually going through my phone stage, when the doorbell rung. Heart beating a million fucking MPH, I raced to delete all my social media, photos and messages. Also sign out of all my accounts and make up a BS reason for the notification when they got back. All within a minute and a half. Living on the edge.
And just a story that shows how controlling my mother can be sometimes. I got the opportunity to go ice skating with a bunch of my friends. I never go out, so of course I was excited. My mother mentioned that she could either come collect me or I could get a lift home. I, being happy that she was actually letting me go, say that I’d probably get picked up, just to alleviate her. Fast forward a couple hours and I’m having a decent amount of fun. We had to leave our items in the lockers, and since there were eight or so of us we managed to squeeze everything into two lockers, and these two people had keys.
So, we stop skating, (finally) bearing in mind that I told my mother we’d be finishing around this sort of time, and she turns up to the rink. Like. She didn’t wait outside. She didn’t wait in reception. She fucking went up from the card accessed place, up to the rink just to yell at me in front of all my friends about how she’s “been waiting here for four hours” which I know is not fucking true. She texted me around half an hour ago asking when it ends and I obviously couldn’t answer because it was in the fucking locked locker and I didn’t have the key. But she still loves bringing this story up, and never wants to hear it and accuses me of being beyond disrespectful when i argue my fucking case. Anyways. After embarrassing me publicly, I’m obviously angry so I take up on the offer of my friend’s dad taking me home. Beforehand, before even telling my mother whether I was going in her car or not, she just left and disappeared, then expected me to find the car by myself.
I was obviously fucking embarrassed, and the questions from my friends about my mother wasn’t helping. They kept asking where she was and I had to keep telling them I didn’t know. So I just drove along home with my friend, where my mother wouldn’t talk to me for a whole day, pretended to be in a lot of pain and complained to my father all evening, who of course took her side.
To this day, she won’t drop me off or pick me up to meetings with friends, which means I can never go. Sorry for damaging your oh-so-fragile ego, nevermind mine. Guess who’s moving out AS SOON as I have enough money? This bitch.
Holy shit, this ended up long. Sorry for the people who do follow me. You can just unfollow me now.
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