Ailment: an illness, typically a minor one
Burnout is familiar
I wake up every morning
My body rested and my mind exhausted
Dig out dinners leftovers for breakfast
I have the time to cook
I don't feel like it
7 hours of racket
5 days a week
2 days of only sometimes quiet
Is not enough to recuperate
I am familiar with this argument
I am not depressed
Just exhausted with little chances to rest
Apathy is familiar
A familiar nothingness
A lack of reaction to the world around me
Everyone seems to have a soapbox
Something they vociferate to the world as loud as they can
LGBTQIA+ rights, women's rights, people of color rights
I listen and agree and don't have the energy to do more
Aromantic, asexual, agender
I already seem to lack things that most people have
What's a few emotions on top of that
Escapism is familiar
More real than the reality in front of me
Stories I weave
And stories I see
Halfway here
And halfway there
Inordinate penchant for the illusions I initiate
Disparate from the world around me
Insomnia is familiar
Exhaustion tugging at eyelids all sunlit hours
Vanishing with the light
Unable to enjoy the perfect hours
Because I know I'm supposed to be sleeping
Staring at the ceiling for hours
Wondering why earlier I felt on the verge of collapsing
But now am alert and uneasy
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↬ the morning after
Tywin Lannister x Reader
Notes: Reader is a Stark but no physical description is mentioned. Based on an idea that came to me, as a result of the Tywin brainrot I've been experiencing.
The suggestion of your marriage to Tywin Lannister had come as quite a shock to the entire Stark family.
Lord Eddard had sputtered out a weak argument, too stunned to form a compelling rebuttal on the spot, but King Robert had waved his hand and said, "Look, I know he's old, but he needs more heirs. Jamie swore an oath, and he won't let Casterly Rock go to Tyrion. There's two dozen lords who are either closer to her in age, or more good-looking, but politically, is there any better option for your daughter than Tywin fucking Lannister? He's Warden of the West, Lord of Casterly Rock, and the richest man in the Seven Kingdoms. She’d be wealthy, protected, and living in the Keep with you and your other daughters."
King Robert had then assured you that you were allowed to reject the proposal if you wished. However, he was not wrong about it being a good match, so you consented to the union. You heard whispers of Tywin being furious with the King for suggesting he take a second wife, but once again, no one could deny that the King was right – Tywin needed more heirs.
So, given your stipulation that you marry in the Godswood, in addition to a small ceremony in the Sept of Baelor, you found yourself wedded to the infamous Tywin Lannister within a few days.
It scared the shit out of you.
And your family.
Even more so when you did not join everyone for breakfast the morning after your wedding.
Tywin had refused a bedding ceremony, so no one had a clue what went on after you and your new lord husband left the feast. But seeing Tywin approach the breakfast table alone the next morning sent a chill down the spines of Lord Eddard, Jon, Robb, and even Theon.
Discreetly, Ned grabbed Robb by the upper arm before the boy could leave the table, and told him to go check on you. Robb nodded, having been planning to anyway, and found that he was quickly followed by Jon and Theon – the latter disguising his worry as a curiosity to know whether "the old fuck could still get it up or not."
All three of the young men braced themselves for a gruesome, heart-wrenching sight as they opened the door to Tywin's chambers after you granted them entry – only to find you sitting cross-legged on the bed, smiling at them.
"Good morning, boys."
"Um… good morning," Robb said hesitantly, confused but pleasantly surprised at the state of you.
"I suspected some concern over my absence at breakfast, but I didn't anticipate a search party," you jested, laughing lightly.
Both Robb and Jon merely stared at you, taking in the sight of your messy hair and the three round, rosy bruises on your neck and collarbone, mentally assessing you for any cause for concern. Ultimately, they found nothing, but feared that you were merely putting on a brave face for them.
"Alright, let's cut the shit," Theon announced, shoving past his companions and leaning against the bedpost, arms crossed and grinning at you. "How was it? Did he force himself on you? Can the old man still get it up? Did he have a nap halfway through the act?"
The way he tried to cover up his worried questioning with jokes did not go unnoticed, but you chose to not comment on it.
"It was, uh…. Well, it was fine, let's leave it at that," you replied with a small chuckle, trying to ignore the fact that your face grew red.
"Absolutely fucking not," Theon protested, looking even more intrigued now. "You didn't even answer a single one of my questions. I'll die of curiosity if I don't get some details."
"Look, we don't need… details. We just want to make sure he didn't force himself on you, and that you're alright," Robb explained, and Jon nodded.
"He did not force himself on me. He was a gentleman about it," you assured your brothers. They both breathed sighs of relief, and their shoulders visibly relaxed.
However, before they could relax fully, you turned to Theon and briskly whispered, "I came four times."
"You what?" Jon shrieked, eyes wide and mouth agape, as Robb let out an exaggerated gag beside him. Theon doubled over in a fit of laughter, having to hold the bedpost to keep himself upright.
"You've got to be fucking joking," Theon managed to wheeze, still laughing.
"Definitely not. Now, all of you run along so I can get dressed," you said, standing to shoo your retching brothers and hysterical friend out of the room, closing the door behind them with a laugh.
sequel ↠ when night falls
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