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d1xonss · 18 hours

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Cigarettes After Sex

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+) and a lil bit of angst

✧ Word Count : 5.6k

AN ~ Not a request but I had this idea that I just couldn't get out of my head. Plus I've been in the mood to write something a little spicy since you guys liked the Older oneshots so much. Hope you enjoy!

Your eyes stayed focused on the pages of the book you were reading in front of you in the smoke filled garage, occasionally turning the pages to continue on with the chapter. In the background you could hear the tools clinking around, along with a few curses that fell from his lips when he couldn’t get something just right. Every once and a while you couldn’t help but look up and stare at him for a few seconds, knowing the real reason you came out here to keep him company while he worked.

Over the past twelve, long years you had known Daryl, you still didn’t exactly know what you were to each other. Some would call the two of you friends, and though that may be true, you always knew there was something a little more there than what meets the eye. And you knew he felt it too, but neither of you were willing to admit that out loud. Too hardheaded, you supposed.

It always caught your attention when he left a few lingering touches on your skin, how he embraced you so dearly as if you were the most important person in the world, or even how he occasionally left a small kiss on your forehead. You couldn’t help but think he did all of these things for a reason, as if to ease you into something that he was always terrified of. And hell, maybe he was easing himself into it too.

You always knew he was never much of a romantic person, he never quite showed interest in anyone else the way he always did with you. Though when he finally did open his heart up to a woman named Leah all those many years ago, he got absolutely crushed in the process, leaving you heartbroken for him as you witnessed him go through it all. In the back of your mind, you hoped it would work out between the two of them because you knew he deserved someone that would treat him right. And though that person may not have been you, it didn’t matter, as long as he was happy. That’s all you had ever wanted for him.

However, you couldn’t help but notice ever since he got hurt, he had been slowly pulling away from you. Not in a way that was drastic, but you always seemed to notice the little things. He had completely stopped showing you affection whatsoever which was very out of character for him considering how close you were. All of the little things he used to do that would make you smile, he had brought to a halt without warning. The only thing that he really did now was just a small squeeze on your shoulder, and that’s only if you were lucky.

It frustrated you slightly, not because of his sudden wall he built up, but because subconsciously he thought you would hurt him the same way she did. He was now scared that the same thing would happen all over again. And it bothered you in a way he could never understand. Because after all you had been through together, he still didn’t seem to know you at all.

“Pass me that screwdriver, will ya?”

Your thoughts cut short when he started to speak, absentmindedly nodding your head as you turned towards the toolbox that was placed right next to you. You dug through them for a moment before you spotted the familiar red handle, grabbing it and stretching your arm out to hand it over to him.

He met your hand halfway as he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks.” he muttered with a small smile, the cigarette still dangling from his lips as he spoke.

You nodded before watching him for another moment, tilting your head to the side, “What’re you fixing up anyway?”

He shrugged as his eyes stayed down, “Just some repairs…nothin too fancy.” he spoke, his eyebrows furrowing as he worked.

“Ah.” you muttered with a small nod, going back to your book as you assumed he didn’t want to be bothered while he focused.

Though upon hearing your small mutter, the quietness taking over the space, Daryl subtly looked back up at you for a moment. He knew things had been different, way different than what the two of you were used to, and a part of him felt bad. Mostly because he knew it was his own fault. He had pushed you away when you had done nothing wrong, and he felt guilty for it every single day.

With that in mind, he cleared his throat as he took a puff from his cigarette, “Ya still want me to teach ya?” he asked, his tone growing softer than before.

You glanced up from your book again, seeing the small smile he had on his face as he reminded you of something you had requested a long time ago. You had rode on the back of his motorcycle many times before, but a part of you wanted to learn how to ride all by yourself. And he clearly remembered.

A smile wormed its way onto your face as well as you nodded, “Yeah…yeah I’d like that.”

He nodded in return as he went back to tuning up his bike, “Gotta start ya off slow though. Can’t have ya crashin into some tree the first time ya get on.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself with a roll of your eyes, “Right, we probably wouldn’t want that. But I think I’ll have a pretty good teacher…I’m not too worried.”

His heart swelled, though you couldn’t see, but that comment touched him in a way, “Yeah?” he asked as he looked back up at you.

You nodded again, “I trust you.”

You trusted him. That little comment meant more to him than you could even fathom. It meant that after all the things he had put you through, all the things he regretted, you still loved and trusted him just the same. He couldn’t help but pause for a long moment as he contemplated all of that, how only a few little words could mean the absolute world.

Though when he was lost in his own mind, the cigarette that he now held between his two fingers, slightly burned his skin as some hot ash fell from the tip. He let out a small noise as he shook it off, only now noticing how smokey the space was from how much he was chain smoking with you in the room. He knew you never cared, but a part of him still felt a little bad.

“Sorry.” he muttered as he raised his hand to fan the area a bit, “Didn’t realize how much I hotboxed ya.” he chuckled a little.

You laughed it off as well, waving him off, “You know I don’t mind. Actually I kinda like the smell.”

He raised his eyebrow a bit at the unexpected comment, looking down to the stick in his grasp as he thought about your words for a moment, “Ya never told me that.” he muttered.

You shrugged, “Never really came up I guess. But I don’t know, it’s always kind of been comforting.”

Daryl silently knew what that meant without you even having to explain. And that only made his chest fill with even more warmth than before, knowing he was the reason behind your words. He knew he meant a lot to you, but just hearing you say that his bad habit was somewhat of a comfort to you, it almost made his mindset shift.

You absentmindedly closed your book as you noticed he grew quiet, “You know any cool tricks?” you asked with a smirk.

He huffed quietly with a small smile, wordlessly taking another hit and holding it for a moment before effortlessly blowing it out in small spurts, the smoke forming into little o shapes in the air. You nodded to yourself as you watched him, “Solid.”

He chuckled a little, “Thank you, thank you.” he said as he bowed his head a bit.

Tilting your head a little, you thought to yourself about any more little tidbits he might have experienced, “Have you ever shotgunned it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Who’s askin?”

“Me.” you smiled sweetly.

He found himself chuckling again, shaking his head as a few memories came to mind, “Uh yeah…yeah I have.” he admitted a bit sheepishly, hoping you wouldn’t ask for any details.

A hum passed through your lips in response, opening your mouth to speak again, though he seemed to beat you to it, “You ever done anything like that?”

You scoffed, “Who’s asking?”

But he didn’t answer you. He only stared at you with the same small smile, however, there seemed to be something a little more behind his eyes. Though you couldn’t tell what that was, it intrigued you slightly. “No…” you answered honestly.

“Ya wanna try?”

It felt like your heart had dropped and settled into your stomach, swearing that you heard him wrong. “You’re not serious.”

But the smile on his face only grew a little, confirming to you just how serious he was as he nodded for you to come closer to him, “Come here.”

In all honesty he didn’t know what he was doing, and seeing the shock on your face only made the small pit in his stomach grow further, though he didn’t show it. He couldn’t really think in that moment at all about how this could be perceived, all he knew was that he wanted to be closer to you. Suddenly having a craving for it, having been without it for far too long.

A few beats of tense silence passed before you finally found the strength to stand to your feet, moving closer towards him as he stood tall as well. You tilted your head back a bit as you looked up at him, standing just a few inches away as you almost waited for him to instruct you on what to do next. Because in all honesty, you didn’t know what you were doing.

His eyes traced over your face for a moment, almost wanting to ask you to stand a little bit closer to him, but ultimately he refrained. He knew he couldn’t be greedy with you, not when you were already so precious to him. He only held the cigarette out towards you, watching as your delicate hand took it from his grasp, all while never removing your gaze from his.

“Go on and take a long drag.” he instructed, his voice coming off in an anticipating whisper.

You only nodded your head in response, placing the end of it in between your lips as you slowly inhaled all the smoke it had to offer. Daryl couldn’t help but stare down at your lips the entire time, he studied you in the most mesmerizing way it almost caused you to choke on your own spit. Yet you still couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it made you grow a little frustrated all over again.

Your heart then fluttered when the smoke filled your lungs, taking the cigarette away from your mouth as you leaned up on your tiptoes to get closer to him. His hand instinctively came up to cradle your jaw as he pulled you even closer to his lips, feeling them barely brush against each other before the blissful feeling would soon wash over the two of you.

Exhaling the smoke, you blew the thick cloud right into his mouth, hearing a quiet groan leave him in response. It surprised you how good it felt, how your skin practically ignited with fire at his simple sound of enjoyment, it made your mind wander to a very dangerous place. His hand didn’t stray away from your face as he inhaled the smoke until he physically couldn’t anymore, the craving he felt only building to a new level as a part of him wanted to taste you. Just for a moment.

But the thought vanished, everything crashing down in an instant as he felt you pull away from his mouth, clearing your throat a bit. His eyes fluttered open to see you standing there awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the two of you had never dared to cross this line before in the past.

“Well, I guess now I can cross that one off the bucket list.” you joked with a small, forced laugh.

“Do it again.”

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his as he spoke with zero hesitation in his tone, not even acknowledging that you made a comment at all. “What?” you asked quietly.

He took a small breath before speaking again, repeating the phrase, “Do it again.”

If you weren’t stunned before, you sure as hell were now as you stood almost frozen before him. To say it was one thing, but to repeat it with such confidence was another. He was serious. What started out as just a suggestion, now turned into something a lot more real.

But you found you didn’t protest. Because you wanted it too.

You then held the cigarette back up to your lips, inhaling it all over again as you were surprised you didn’t cough even once in the whole process. His eyes practically lit up as he saw you repeat the action, mentally preparing himself for the familiar feeling that would hit him all over again. But the thing he couldn’t get past was that he had never felt it before now. He only felt it with you. And it was very surreal.

Your perfect lips parted from the cigarette after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, moving back up to him to exhale the smoke into his mouth once more. The man breathed it in as if he needed it to stay alive, his hands coming up to your arms to hold you in place as if he was scared you would pull away again. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not even if you wanted to. The slightest brush of your lips made your breath hitch, but before you could even register what you were doing, you pressed your lips firmly to his. It almost didn’t feel real.

Daryl responded immediately, instantly bringing you into him as he wrapped his arms around you to hold you closer to his chest. Your hands went up to the sides of his face, tilting your head a bit so your noses wouldn’t clash so much, the kiss intensifying in just a split second. It was like all the years of the built up tension, the built up feelings, were now finally being unleashed after so long of waiting. You supposed before it was never the right time, but now, it couldn’t have felt more perfect.

His tongue moved to run along your lips almost teasingly, begging for an entrance as his hands gripped you even tighter. And you accepted his request, parting your lips for him and feeling his excitement grow as he didn’t take it for granted. His tongue swirled rapidly in your mouth, letting out a groan of pleasure as he tasted your sweetness. You shivered slightly at the low rumble you heard from him, something about it turning you on even more as you had never heard that sound from him before. It was like a switch flipped.

He continued to absolutely devour your mouth, his hands now running down the curves of your body in a slow and teasing manner, taking his time. You gasped softly as you felt your skin almost tingling under his touch, wanting to feel him everywhere. So without thinking, you quickly moved your hands down to his chest as you frantically began to try and tear his shirt off of him. Your fingers worked on each of the buttons, though you couldn’t see what you were doing, it all felt like it was happening so fast you almost had no time to prepare yourself.

But in a fit of panic, Daryl quickly pulled back from your mouth as the feeling of you trying to take off his shirt finally registered in his mind. He still remained close to you, but his sudden actions stopped you from yours, your hands freezing in place as it was clear you had pushed him too far. But your expression was filled with confusion and concern as you couldn’t understand why he looked almost scared to go any further.

He sighed as his eyes remained closed, almost ashamed to look at your face as he gently leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I…I can’t.” he whispered.

Your eyes seemed to widen as it clicked in your mind. He hadn’t done anything like this since Leah. Since he had been burned so badly by her. Since he was left shattered and heartbroken because of what she did to him. He opened up to her unlike anyone else, and she left him. A lump formed in your throat as the realization set in for you, seeing just how scared he was for this to potentially happen to him all over again.

“I can’t do this, I…I can’t lose you too.”

You sighed softly as you shook your head, your hands tilting his face up a little more, “Hey, look at me.”

He simply shook his head, his eyes remaining closed, “Daryl, look at me.” you pleaded quietly.

When he did finally open his eyes, you could see he was starting to tear up, breaking your heart even further. Not only to see how much he was hurting, but how much he was truly terrified to lose you. Although in your mind, that wasn’t even a possibility.

“You couldn’t lose me, okay? Ever.” you whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. You know me…I would never hurt you like that. Never.”

Upon hearing your voice reassure him so sweetly, his tears slowly slipped down his cheeks, watching as he swallowed thickly to try and pull himself together. But you didn’t want him to be embarrassed. You understood more than he probably realized. Which is why you were quick to wipe them away with your thumbs, leaning up to kiss the ones you had missed in hopes to offer him even more comfort.

He shuttered under your touch, quickly finding your lips with his own again as he kissed you deeply, holding the back of your head steady as his lips were filled with passion. You responded to his kiss with hesitance, not wanting to push him again as you didn’t have a clear response to how he was feeling. But once you felt him take your hands, guiding them back up to the buttons on his shirt, you had your answer.

In a flurry of hurried kisses and laughs, nearly tripping over one another as you tried to make it back inside the house, the two of you finally landed on the couch in the living room. Neither of you really cared about trying to make it all the way upstairs, almost as if it was a silent agreement that you were both impatient. You panted heavily as each piece of fabric was being discarded onto the floor faster than you could even realize, yet his hands moved across your skin with such ease and gentleness. The action alone told you a thousand things, and yet he didn’t need to say a word.

You quickly lowered yourself to your knees the second you saw the opportunity, getting in between his legs as he sat on the couch. His eyes widened at your actions, “Aye, you don’t gotta-”

But his words were cut off with a groan as you lowered your mouth to the tip of his dick, darting your tongue out to slowly swirl around and tease him the smallest bit. You knew you didn’t have to, but you wanted him to feel special for once, you wanted him to feel important and loved. And besides, you just couldn’t help yourself as your mouth practically watered at the sight. And the small noises he was letting out as you licked sensually along his shaft, was almost like a reward of some kind.

He threw his head back slightly as his hands went up to hold your hair back for you, feeling you teasingly lower your lips just a little at a time to take more of him in your mouth. It was almost like torture with how slow you were going, but it was also the most enjoyable torture he could even endure. His muscles twitched in anticipation and he was already beginning to sweat, clenching his teeth together all the while.

“Come on,” he muttered breathlessly, talking more to himself than he was to you.

But you still took it as a sign, seeing he had enough and finally lowered your mouth even more to take him further. A shaky moan left his parted lips at your actions, hissing slightly when he felt your teeth barely brushing against him as well, though it wasn’t enough to hurt. Just enough to get his attention. You then began slowly bobbing your head up and down the length of him, swirling your tongue and hollowing out your cheeks to really make him squirm. His hands tightened around your hair in response, another low groan echoing around the room as he basked in the state of pleasure you provided.

His breathing grew heavier and heavier by the second, growing even more sensitive to you as your pace began to gradually pick up, trying to take even more of him in your mouth. You couldn’t lie though, he was bigger than what you had experienced in the past, which made you almost nervous. But hearing what you were doing to him so far, it gave you the right motivation you needed to keep going.

“F-Fuck.” he breathed as the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, feeling your hands running up and down his thighs as you tried not to gag. Though he felt you struggle a bit, pulling your hair up slightly as if signaling you that you could ease up if you needed, but you didn’t. He felt too good in your mouth for you to want to stop.

Your head then moved a bit faster, taking him as deep as you could as you heard his whimpers and moans, not even trying to hold them back anymore. He wanted to make it known how good you were making him feel, just the sound of it was enough to make you wet, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Your spit soaked him completely, making it almost easier to take him entirely in your mouth as you felt him hit the back of your throat almost every time with each pass.

His breath hitched, “Oh shit,” he muttered as he tried to regulate his breathing, “Ya need to get up here…come on.” he almost pleaded.

And you didn’t need to be told twice, feeling how hard he was now he was nearly throbbing in your mouth, knowing he was close to falling apart. So your lips slowly parted from his aching dick, leaving a few lingering kisses behind before you slowly stood back up to your feet with a smile. Looking at his face now, he gazed at you as if you put all the stars in the sky, as if you painted him the most beautiful sunset you could’ve ever laid your eyes on. Or as if you had given him the best head of his life.

He watched as you wiped your mouth from the spit that nearly dribbled down your chin, quickly reaching forward to pull you in and crash his mouth against yours, licking your lips completely clean. You giggled in response to his eagerness, attempting to remove your thong as it was the last thing in the way, struggling to kick it off your ankles. Though the moment it hit the ground, you instantly moved forward and broke away from his mouth for only a moment, straddling his hips as you hovered on top of him.

The man nearly gawked at the sight of you, “God…” he muttered as if he couldn’t find the words. But you knew what he was getting at, knowing that his actions always spoke louder than his words ever could. And he only proved that further when he lowered his mouth to one of your breasts, sucking gently at your nipple to elicit a small whimper from you.

You could feel his lip curl up in response to your little noises, his hand coming up to gently massage the other with his rough fingers. The scratchiness of his calloused palms made it even better somehow, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine as you lowered yourself a little more onto him in response. He hummed at your actions, encouraging you to continue as his mouth worked wildly along your breast.

One of your hands then moved down to gently guide his tip towards you, running it up and down your slit to gather the wetness that pooled there. Your chest heaved up and down as you were almost overwhelmed with the tingles running through your entire body, nearly causing you to shake.

Daryl’s mouth then dragged all across your skin, leaving a small trail of small hickies along your chest, groaning as you continued to play with him a little. Your other hand came up to run through his hair, tilting your head back a little as you dragged his dick up to circle around your pulsing clit. That seemed to cause you both to gasp, the slow and tormenting teasing beginning to be too much as Daryl quickly removed his mouth from you, his hands moving to your hips as if to position you in the most perfect way he could.

You followed his lead as your hands moved up to his shoulders to steady yourself, feeling him move his dick down to your entrance to align himself with you. And when you finally sunk down onto him, it felt like absolute heaven. A long, slow moan left your lips as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hearing a harsh grunt escape him as he tried to refrain from pounding into you. He knew he needed to take his time, wanting to draw this out for as long as he could as if it were the first and last time. He hoped for more, he prayed for more, but he knew it was never guaranteed.

His forehead fell to rest in the middle of your chest as the two of you basked in the pure errotic experience, slowly managing to move your hips once you were ready. It was slow at first, gradually easing into it as you lowered yourself back down onto him again and again, your hands moving to grip the back of his hair. He groaned as he felt you tug a little at his roots, but in all honesty, he didn’t care. In fact, he liked it.

You moaned softly as you rocked your hips against his, pulling almost all the way off of him before he filled you completely once more. What you were feeling was almost indescribable, not having felt it with any other man you had been intimate with in your entire life. But with him, it felt so different, so incredibly good. Like his body was made for yours, fitting together perfectly like a puzzle piece you had been missing for far too long. And you weren’t the only one feeling like that, with him squirming beneath you, it was just a sign to not stop your movements anytime soon.

You bounced on him at a steady pace as you balanced yourself, feeling his hand travel down to rub slow circles along your clit with his thumb. You nearly cried out in response, your heart racing out of your chest, “Oh fuck…yes.” you breathed as his pace quickened.

“Yeah? Ya like that?” he asked as his face moved close to whisper in your ear, feeling his teeth gently bite down on your earlobe.

Your mouth fell open in response as you gasped, nodding your head frantically, “Yes…yes.” you moaned as you continued to rock against him, feeling your wetness drip all over him with how aroused you were.

“Mmm,” he hummed his mouth traveling down to kiss along your jawline, “You’re doin so good sweetheart.” he breathed as he held back a groan, “So good.”

His praise only spurred you on more, your fingers tugging a bit harder at his hair which caused him to groan, thrusting his hips up into you to match your pace. The sinful sounds that escaped you should never be heard by anyone, you couldn’t even believe you were the one making them. But he was the one to cause all those little reactions, adding something more to push you over the edge. And it was working too, you had felt it ever since you were down on your knees in front of him. The familiar tingling in your stomach was building to the point where it could spill over at any moment.

He panted heavily as he began to suck on the base of your neck, “I love you…God, I love you.” he whispered.

The words threw you off guard for a moment as your eyes widened, but you didn’t stop, nor were you scared to say it back. “I love you too.” you responded breathlessly.

That phrase had gone unspoken between the two of you for years, constantly avoiding saying it to each other for no reason at all. Perhaps it was stubbornness, or just the fear of the feelings not being reciprocated. But for whatever reason, this moment alone brought it out to the open. And it couldn’t have felt better.

Daryl thrusted deeper into you upon hearing your response, causing you to gasp as you felt the string finally snap inside you, releasing your orgasm as your muscles twitched. Feeling you squeezing him, he cursed as he quickly pulled himself out of you in one swift motion, cumming all over your stomach. You could’ve sworn your vision went black for a moment as you slowly came down from your blissful high, not a word being said for a few minutes at least as you both tried to regain yourselves.

His head rested against your chest again, his lips beginning to leave a trail of kisses up your skin as your eyes were still hazy, leading them up to your neck where he nuzzled his face, pulling you close to his chest. You hummed in response, running your fingers through his hair as you thought to yourself for a moment, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Did you…really mean that?” you whispered hesitantly.

He pulled his face back to look at you, his head still too far up in the clouds that he clearly didn’t hear you. The big grin on his face was evidence of that. “Hm?”

You huffed with a small smile, “The whole…I love you thing…did you really mean it? Or was it like the heat of the moment.”

His brows furrowed in concern as he gently cupped the sides of your face, “Of course I meant it. I love you.” he repeated again, as if to make sure you really heard him.

You smiled in slight relief, “Did you mean it?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yes.” you said with a breathy laugh, “I just…wanted to make sure.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, darlin,” he said as he leaned in to rub his nose against yours lovingly, “I’ve always loved ya…my dumbass just took too long to admit it.”

You shook your head in response, “It’s okay. I understand why.”

He sighed quietly as he thought about how much he may have missed out on, how much went down the drain just because he was scared. Not only to have his heartbroken, but to potentially lose one of his best friends if you didn’t feel the same way he did. There was always a risk, but he let the fear consume him, and now he was kicking himself for it seeing how easy it was to be with you. He should’ve always known, and now he felt he was too late.

You quickly noticed his change in his expression and gently tilted his chin up so he’d look at you, “Hey…what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, “M’ just…m’ sorry.”

“For what?” you asked in confusion.

“For not actin on this years ago. For pushin ya away when I was hurtin just because I was nervous about it happenin all over again.” he stopped suddenly to gather his thoughts, “I just feel like I wasted so much time.” he finished with a whisper.

Your face was filled with worry about hearing him apologize for something that he had nothing to be sorry for. It hurt you seeing how much this was affecting him, knowing that the two of you should be happy that it finally happened. Not wanting to dwell on the past.

You leaned in to gently kiss his lips for a moment, pulling away enough to speak, “Well, it’s a good thing we got all the time in the world now.” you smiled.

His eyes slowly filled with a little more hope, “You mean…”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I love you.”

He let out a small breath he was unaware he was holding, pulling you close to press multiple kisses all over your face, “I love you too.” he whispered, continuing to trace his lips wherever he could reach, igniting an infectious laugh from you.

It seemed his prayers were answered.

~ Thanks for reading!

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rooksamoris · 2 days

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💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐒.

💞 — in which jamil realizes that no matter how hard he avoid the oasis, the thirst will not disappear till it is quenched.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort type fic. some descriptions of gore to emphasize yearning (the arabs be dramatic, what can i say)

💞 — 1.7k words. inspired by "sawwah" the song by abdel halim hafez. you should listen to it while reading tbh. first in a series of me assigning old school arabic songs to various characters. and yes, arabic speaking jamil is back. the translations are italicized with the arabic, and i changed some lyrics to fit third person, instead of first.

Wa ana mashi fil bilad, sawwah.

And I walk through countries, a vagabond.

Jamil had a job. He was bound to eternal servitude to the Al-Asim family—practically property to Bait (house/clan) Al-Asim. He had a job, and yet he spent his nights away in his mind, wandering like a vagabond. Purposeless, jobless.

All those nights toiling in the kitchen of Scarabia made him forget purpose and work were different things. He would never call working for that spoiled boy his purpose. He was made for more—to be praised, to rule and command. He deserved more. Jamil deserved more than having to push away his moon, his qamar (moon).

You were like an oasis in the desert expanse that he called his mind, and yet he walked away from you. He walked away when he desperately needed a sip. When he desperately needed rest and dates from your palm.

“Qad jinint? (Have you become crazed?) I have too many things to deal with. And you’d be better off without the burden of my title. Imshi (Go on/walk off).”

Jamil saw it. He saw the way your expression faltered, the softest twitch in your brow, the smallest tremble of your lips. It was cruel, he knew it, and it hurt him to say it. But in the end, he knew there was nothing else he could say. There must have been a better way to delicately reject your confessions, and yet he took the harshest route. Jamil plucked the dates from your palm and trampled over them.

He hurt himself by doing so, denying himself the one thing he desperately wanted. In the end, it was simple. Mishwar baeed, wa hu gareeh. His life was a long journey that only injured him. He did not want it to injure you as well.

Still, his charcoal eyes would seek you out. He would still ask Kalim about you, wanting to know how the distance was affecting you. Did you become a vagabond as he did? Were you avoiding oases?

Did you ask about the brown-skinned boy who broke your heart? He just wanted to be reassured—tamainu (reassure him)—that his qamar was doing alright. Wa in la’akum habibi, salamuli alai, he wanted to tell Kalim. If you see my love, wish them peace from me.

He would never ask you himself, nor did he get the chance to since you would scurry off whenever he passed by. The one place he could not avoid you was the kitchen of Scarabia, his domain, during one of Kalim’s parties. You were hiding away from the madness, and he had been trying to hide away from you. It was the same spot in which you cooked with him, listened to him, and were eventually rejected by him.

Jamil froze after walking in, and you turned your head up from your phone once you saw him, “I’m sorry,” you said, pushing yourself off of the counter and heading for the other door. You could not face him, not after that rejection. Not after he told you that your feelings were that of a crazed djinni (genie/jinn).

He shook his head and walked to the stove top, turning it on, “Stay. I’ll make chai,” he muttered. He did not even look at you.

You still wanted to leave, but instead, you just nodded. Honestly, you were a fool for the man, for that long dark brown hair which he braided so perfectly, and his aquiline nose which you desperately wanted to trace your finger along, “I don’t want to trouble you—”

“It’s no trouble. It gives me an excuse to get away from Kalim.”

You swallowed and nodded.

The silence was horrifically uncomfortable. The only sounds in the kitchen were the boiling water in the kettle and the sound that the mortar and pestle made while Jamil began to grind the herbs for the tea. Chai, cloves, cardamom—he added cinnamon this time. The scent always made everything more cozy.

Ya qamar, ya nasini. Oh moon who forgets me. Jamil hoped you would have gotten over your feelings for him and forgotten about the rejection, but he could tell it stung. The way you looked around the kitchen proved that enough. He poured the evaporated milk into the tea, let it simmer with the racing of his heart, and then poured both of you cups. He was gentle as he set your cup in front of you, unlike the savagery that he handled your heart with.

Jamil leaned against the island, his eyes trailing over your face, “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” you blurted, holding the cup of tea. Waseitak, waseiya, ya shahid aleiya, “I promised you—you heard. You saw,” you elaborated, “I’m fine.” Tekilu ala beiyak. You could have told him of the state you were in after the rejection, but you opted for lies veiled by a fake grin.

He understood. He did not let you see past his veil either, “I see.”

“The tea is great.”

“Thanks.”

There it was, another uncomfortable silence. His eyes said it all, though. Had you looked close enough, you would have seen how they ached to sacrifice themselves for you. He wished his worries for you would leave him alone—he would have gouged his eyes out just to make the aching in his heart disappear. It was curling in on itself, threatening to burst with the violence of a desert storm, sand filled his lungs, suffocating him. The weeks felt like years, and he was just a nomad in the night.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he set his cup down.

You immediately frowned and put your teacup down as well, scared you would drop in, “You don’t get to say that now,” you mumbled.

Jamil nodded in agreement. It was cruel, rejecting you so harshly just to turn around and claim he did not mean any of it. Especially when he still did find you crazy for loving him as ardently as you claimed, “It’s wrong. I know,” he said, looking away from you and to the door where all the commotion was. The music was muffled by the shut doors, making the kitchen feel like an entirely different building, “But I… I feel the same.”

That was another lie. He did not just feel the same, Jamil longed for you. He yearned, his heart ached and his veins begged to be torn out for your sake. Every cell in his body called for your name, his hands begged to grasp your waist, kiss your neck—his hands which artfully painted henna, wished they could trace every curve and every dip on your body.

“Jamil…” you trailed off.

He merely shook his head, “It is because I feel the same that I must reject you. You—you have so much more waiting in your life without me. My suffering should not be yours,” he said, and he said it as if it were the law of the universe. He was a vagabond eternally bound to avoid the oases because the oases were not meant for him. They were meant for Kalim Al-Asim.

Despite all that, he did not push you away when you cupped his face. He did not protest as he drowned. He did not thrash, he did not fight. His body did as it wished, leaning into your hands, “Ya qamar… you are making this more difficult than it needs to be,” he muttered, the disdain dying before it could embrace the quiet air of the kitchen.

You frowned at him—sevens, he wanted to kiss that mouth of yours—and your brows furrowed, “Let me, Jamil. Just let me,” you said. What did you want him to let you do? You had no clue, or perhaps it was just too broad to describe.

Nawarli, wararili, seitak al-habayeb.

Enlighten and show me the path to the beloveds.

He was so weak when it came to you. Before he knew it, his hands were at the small of your back, pulling you closer and forcing you to arch against him as his lips met yours in a fierce kiss. He sighed into your mouth, his tongue slipping in when you gasped in surprise.

Jamil needed you even closer. His hands made their way down to your hips, his thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to feel your skin. It was just as nice as he dreamed it would be. What made it all the better was how you kissed him back.

One of your hands gripped his shirt, right at his chest, right above his cruel racing heart, and the other held the back of his head. The quietest of whimpers escaped you as he bit your bottom lip, causing him to groan.

He pressed you against the counter, causing your hand to slip from his chest and move to hold onto the surface behind you. You kissed him till you could not breathe, “Ja—Jamil,” you stammered when your lips parted from his.

Greedily, he went in and kissed you some more. Jamil had taken a sip, and now he wanted it all. He only pulled away when your hands pressed against his chest to push him away. His eyes widened and his hands fell back to his sides. He pulled the hood down to hide his face from you as he turned his head, “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s—It’s fine,” you replied, fixing your clothes and hair, “Are we…” you let the question hang like a date on a palm tree.

He nodded, “If you’ll still have me,” he replied. What he wanted to do was get on his knees and beg you to use your lips to end his suffering—beg that you use those hands to pull the sand out of his chest.

“Of course, I’d still have you, Jamil,”

Your words were like a soothing balm. It was the salve that you spread over his burns, over his scars, and over the bruises that his yearning created, “Okay,” he said, and it was all he could manage to say for now.

He picked up the kettle of tea and poured you some more. No matter what he did, he could not run away from you, his purpose. You forced the vagabond to stop and pulled the title right off of him, before pushing him into the waters of the oasis.

“We have some ma’amoul (semolina biscuit stuffed with date filling),” he says, after some silence.

#💖 — amoris writes #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #twst jamil #twisted wonderland x reader #twst jamil x reader #jamil nation is so back #making him speak arabic for y'all again

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rythyme · 2 days

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hello ok so i saw your recent ex-morning posts and like i watched sotus but i have No Idea what's going on at the moment. f it's not too much effort can you explain why the ex-morning stuff is so, i dunno how to say it, noteworthy, i guess? like just what's up maybe?

Tl;dr: The Ex-Morning is GMMTV's literal RPF with the serial numbers filed off, starring the actors from said RPF.

i'll do my best to explain more under the cut

ok let's do this

SOTUS and KristSingto were some of the biggest cash cows GMMTV has ever had. I would argue that the success of SOTUS in 2016 is the main reason we have a BL renaissance today.

Krist and Singto have not acted together since 2018. Until recently, it was assumed that they would never be paired up again.

There were rumors that they had a falling out, which supposedly explained why they stopped acting together. Mostly speculation, but who knows.

Krist made a poor taste comment a while back that led to him being somewhat "cancelled" for a few years. He only started dipping his toes back into BL last year.

Singto, on the other hand, never stopped acting in BLs and has had at least 6 on-screen male acting partners since then (maybe more if you count his one-sided crushes on Mike and Lee Thanat in Baker Boys, or whatever the hell was going on in Shadow). This is very notable, since the BL business model tends to keep acting pairs in the same "ship" for years at a time.

Acting pairs almost never "get back together" after getting a new male acting partner. The literal only exception I can think of is when Tay Tawan acted with Joss Wayar in 3 Will Be Free and then continued to act with New in DBK/Cherry Magic.

Despite everything, KristSingto is still extremely popular among fans to this day and is still one of the most popular "ships" of all time.

When Singto's schedule opened up, GMMTV finally got the opportunity to profit off of it again -- in the most intentional and transparent way possible.

The plot of The Ex-Morning -- exes reuniting and falling for each other again -- mirrors the careers and relationship of Singto and Krist. The fact that Krist's character has a publicity blunder and has to restore his reputation is even more fuel for the fire.

The director for The Ex-Morning is the same director who made SOTUS

The flashback in The Ex-Morning shows Krist and Singto with their signature iced coffee and pink milk, which intentionally calls back to their characters in SOTUS.

P'Aof, who is said to be writing some of the screenplay for The Ex-Morning, said that he wrote it to match Krist and Singto's relationship. This story was tailor made for them.

Conclusion: GMMTV is going for the SOTUS / KristSingto cash grab by essentially having Aof write some kind of amalgamation of KristSingto RPF and SOTUS post-canon future fic.

Do I know that it's a blatant cash grab? Yes. Will I will be watching it anyway because it looks low-key good in its own right? Also yes.

#hope this helps #i am not capable of being concise about this my apologies #sotus #the ex morning #kristsingto #thai drama #lgbt drama #ask theo #the ex-morning

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 days

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Harry was never really Dumbledore's man

So, in HBP Harry says himself:

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” “Yeah, I am,” said Harry.

(HBP, 348)

But, I'm here to argue Harry actually has many many doubts and reservations about Dumbledore throughout all books (even HBP), and I find it interesting how Harry convinced the Wizarding world (and the readers) that he's Dumbledore's man when he isn't. Not really.

(Just makes me all the more annoyed at him calling his son Albus...)

I'm going to go through some examples of Harry showing his doubts about Dumbledore way before book 7. Because Harry is an abused, distrusting boy, and Dumbledore isn't actually an exception to that until very late into the books. And even when Harry chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions, he never fully trusts his judgment.

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?” “Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.” “No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….”

(PS, 217)

This quote above is from the ending of Philosopher's Stone and the outlook Harry, Ron, and Hermione have on Dumbledore and his behavior is the same as seen in the later books. So I wanted to talk about each of them and how they see Dumbledore because this quote really sets the tone for the rest of the series.

Ron is doubtful and distrustful. The situation is odd, and he's clever, he analyzed the situation and came to a frightening conclusion — the whole ordeal seemed planned by Dumbledore. And Ron isn't scared of voicing this question.

Hermione, while not always a rule-follower, respects Dumbledore and his authority. A lot. So, she doesn't believe Dumbledore could've planned it as it would reflect badly on his character and authority. Hermione is a very loyal person, and once she decides she respects someone she is willfully blind to their flaws (we see it with her later in the series).

Harry, while he's clever enough to notice the same things Ron did and come to the same conclusion — that Dumbledore planned for an 11-year-old to face Voldemort — he attributes good intentions to Dumbledore. Harry sees the situation and draws his conclusions, but chooses to hope/believe Dumbledore's intentions were good ones.

Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry’s own parents, and so many others. . . . At last he forced himself to speak. “You’re not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred. “Not what?” snapped Riddle. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days —” The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(CoS, 282)

This is one of the scenes people call to to show how much faith Harry has in Dumbledore (even Dumbledore himself), the thing is, Harry says (in his mind) he's just saying things to try and scare Tom. To try and buy time, or unbalance Tom so he may have a chance at escape.

The important note is that Harry doesn't actually believe what he's saying to Tom. He's just saying what he thinks would bother Tom the most.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn’t about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

(GoF, 310)

This part about telling no one about his wand's connection to Voldemort is true. He never told anyone by that point in GoF. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius.

As I mentioned above, Harry is abused and distrustful. He's not at all Dumbledore's perfect soldier who trusts him with everything. In GoF, Harry decides against telling Dumbledore about his dreams and the pain in his scar:

“Your scar hurt? Harry, that’s really serious. . . . Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I’ll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. . . . Maybe there’s something in there about curse scars. . . .” Yes, that would be Hermione’s advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. [...] As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, fulllength wizard’s robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry’s owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.

(GoF, 21)

Harry doesn't wish to share secrets with Dumbledore, nor does he feel comfortable to go to him with his troubles (his go-to adult while Sirius was around was always Sirius). Again, Hermione is mentioned as the one who trusts Dumbledore's authority, in Harry's head, but he's right, he knows her well.

Harry actually spends a good portion of the series purposefully trying to hide information from Dumbledore. (I'm saying 'trying ' because Dumbledore always found out, but not because Harry told him).

“He seemed to think it was best,” said Hermione rather breathlessly. “Dumbledore, I mean.” “Right,” said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig’s beak and found that he was not at all sorry. “I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —” Ron began. “Yeah?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?” “Well, no — but that’s why he’s had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time -” Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him. “Didn’t work that well, though, did it?” said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. “Had to look after myself after all, didn’t I?” “He was so angry,” said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. “Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.” “Well, I’m glad he left,” Harry said coldly. “If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.”

(OotP, 63)

Harry is angry here, true, but he doubts Dumbledore's idea of what's "safe" for him. He's actually glad for the dementors because he doubts Dumbledore would've brought him over if it wasn't an emergency.

And Harry is right to be doubtful and suspicious. He's right that he's less safe at the Dursleys than at Grimmauld Place. He's right to feel angry and betrayed at literally everyone knowing he's being followed except for him. He's right Dumbledore probably wouldn't have brought him if it wasn't for the dementor attack. Harry is correct in each and every one of his assessments of Dumbledore's character and decisions here.

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s more like . . . his mood, I suppose. I’m just getting flashes of what mood he’s in. . . . Dumbledore said something like this was happening last year. . . . He said that when Voldemort was near me, or when he was feeling hatred, I could tell. Well, now I’m feeling it when he’s pleased too. . . .” There was a pause. The wind and rain lashed at the building. “You’ve got to tell someone,” said Ron. “I told Sirius last time.” “Well, tell him about this time!” “Can’t, can I?” said Harry grimly. “Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires, remember?” “Well then, Dumbledore —” “I’ve just told you, he already knows,” said Harry shortly, getting to his feet, taking his cloak off his peg, and swinging it around himself. “There’s no point telling him again.” Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak, watching Harry thoughtfully. “Dumbledore’d want to know,” he said. Harry shrugged. “C’mon . . . we’ve still got Silencing Charms to practice . . .”

(OotP, 382)

Remember I mentioned Harry hiding things from Dumbledore? This is one of such occasions. There are more in GoF that I didn't copy, but this is an example of Voldemort-related, dangerous information Harry is hiding from Dumbledore because he doesn't trust him and doesn't feel comfortable telling him things.

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m getting sick of my scar hurting, and I’m getting bored walking down that corridor every night.” He rubbed his forehead angrily. “I just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —” “That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.” “I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!” “Maybe . . .” said Ron slowly. “Maybe what?” said Hermione rather snappishly. “Maybe it’s not Harry’s fault he can’t close his mind,” said Ron darkly. “What do you mean?” said Hermione. “Well, maybe Snape isn’t really trying to help Harry. . . .” Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other. “Maybe,” he said again in a lower voice, “he’s actually trying to open Harry’s mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —” “Shut up, Ron,” said Hermione angrily. “How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.” “He used to be a Death Eater,” said Ron stubbornly. “And we’ve never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . .” “Dumbledore trusts him,” Hermione repeated. “And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we can’t trust anyone.”

(OotP, 554)

Again we see the same exact dynamic from first year. Hermione is loyal to Dumbledore, not even considering he might be wrong about something, or not have their best interests at heart. Ron and Harry on the other hand, are both open to the possibility that things aren't so simple. They don't think Dumbledore is intentionally harming Harry, but they think he's wrong about Snape. Something Hermione, Arthur and Molly would never consider.

(This is actually the most annoying thing in Hermione's character for me, her unshakable faith in Dumbledore, who doesn't deserve her trust)

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?” “Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

(HBP, 552)

Even in book 6, the book Harry grows the most comfortable and trusting towards Dumbledore, even then, he doesn't trust Dumbledore. He thinks (and somewhat rightly so because he doesn't know of Snape and Dumbledore's plan) that Dumbledore is wrong about Snape. that Dumbledore is wrong about Malfoy. Harry doesn't trust that whatever protections Dumbledore would leave would be enough (and they weren't).

Even at the end of HBP, the point in the series where Harry has the most faith in Dumbledore, Harry still doesn't trust Dumbledore's judgment or his ability to protect the school. Even after Dumbledore calls Harry out on it, telling him the safety of the students is important to him, Harry still tells Ron and Hermione to get the DA to protect the school without notifying Dumbledore.

And Dumbledore raised Harry to feel responsible for the school's safety, Harry is doing what he was "bred" to do. But he does it behind Dumbledore's back, because like every adult, Harry deep down expects to be let down. After all, he's used to saving the school himself.

So, no, Harry never really trusted Dumbledore fully. At least, not Dumbledore's judgment. Harry does believe Dumbledore's intentions are good for the most part, even if ineffective.

“He never told me his sister was a Squib,” said Harry, without thinking, still cold inside. “And why on earth would he tell you?” screeched Muriel, swaying a little in her seat as she attempted to focus upon Harry [...] Where was saintly Albus while Ariana was locked in the cellar? Off being brilliant at Hogwarts, and never mind what was going on in his own house!” “What d’you mean, locked in the cellar?” asked Harry. “What is this?” Doge looked wretched. Auntie Muriel cackled again and answered Harry. [...] Numbly Harry thought of how the Dursleys had once shut him up, locked him away, kept him out of sight, all for the crime of being a wizard. Had Dumbledore’s sister suffered the same fate in reverse: imprisoned for her lack of magic? Had Dumbledore truly left her to her fate while he went off to Hogwarts to prove himself brilliant and talented?

(DH, 135-137)

And in Deathley Hollows, Harry is very quick to start questioning and doubting Dumbledore. Especially when compared to Hermione:

“Harry—” But he shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? Ron, Dumbledore, the phoenix wand . . . “Harry.” She seemed to have heard his thoughts. “Listen to me. It—it doesn’t make very nice reading—” “Yeah, you could say that—” “—but don’t forget, Harry this is Rita Skeeter writing.” “You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn’t you?” “Yes, I—I did.” She hesitated, looking upset, cradling her tea in her cold hands.

(DH, 311)

Harry is hurt, he feels betrayed, because while he never 100% trusted Dumbledore's judgment, he trusted his intentions. He trusted Dumbledore was good and cared for him. He feels cold and betrayed, showing trust in his intentions. But his readiness to accept Skeeter's and Muriel's accusations so quickly shows he always had his doubts about Dumbledore and they never really left, even if he wanted to trust him, he never did, not fully.

Hermione, on the other hand, who was always loyal and trusted Dumbledore (both his intentions and judgment) 100%, tries to rationalize Dumbledore's actions and convince herself everyone who says bad things about him is lying.

Harry doesn't. Because out of the Golden Trio, Hermione was always Dumbledore's woman, Ron and Harry... not really. Not as much.

“That old berk,” muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. “Thought the sun shone out of my brother’s every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.” Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. He met Aberforth’s gaze, which was so strikingly like his brothers’: The bright blue eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and Harry thought that Aberforth knew what he was thinking and despised him for it. “Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much,” said Hermione in a low voice. “Did he now?” said Aberforth. “Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he’d left ’em well alone.”

(DH, 478)

More of how Harry thinks about Dumbledore, showing, again, how he always had his doubts and reservations but he chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions because otherwise, he doesn't think he has any hope to defeat Voldemort. He chooses to keep following Dumbledore's path because he has no real choice but to trust what he sees as the only path that'll lead to Voldemort's destruction. But Harry has plenty of doubts about Dumbledore.

Hermione, on the other hand, has little to no doubts. She doesn't allow herself to doubt.

And this pattern, of Harry doubting Dumbledore again and again, never truly trusting him, just trusting his plan will kill Voldemort... like, how does that lead Harry to want to name his kid 'Albus'? I just don't get it...

TL;DR

Harry likes to say he's Dumbledore's man, but he always had his reservations, even when he choose to ignore them since trusting Dumbledore's plan felt like his only chance at survival. Hermione is much more trusting of Dumbledore than Harry is.

#harry potter #hp #harry potter thoughts #hp thoughts #harry potter meta #hp meta #hollowedtheory #hp theory #harry james potter #harry potter analysis #albus dumbledore

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pit-and-the-pen · 1 day

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Eris-Mating Ceremony

Part of my Eris x day court! OC series.

Previous parts of

[Pt 1] [Pt 2] [Pt 3]

Bit of a time skip here but I needed to get this out of my head. This series is non-linear after part 3 so be on the lookout for more with this character. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this particular character.

Warnings: smut (18+), soft Eris but also a little bit of dom!Eris if you squint. Slight dumbification of reader but it’s only because of the mating frenzy.

WC:~4k

Divider as always by @cafekitsune

-------Eris Pov-------

Eris was sure he had never seen anything as beautiful as she walked down the short aisle. For the first time in his life, he felt his hands sweating as their eyes locked. Her smile rivaled the very sun itself as he truly got the chance to drink her in. A flowy maroon dress, peaks of emerald green underskirt and deep green fern leaves embroidered up the front of the dress that wrapped around her waist the same way his arms would. His clothes suddenly felt itchy on his skin and he cannot for the life of him figure out why he suggested the big ceremony. Mentally cursing himself for all the times she tried to offer him food and he told her to be patient and wait. Oh how those words had come to bite him in the ass.

After what felt like an eternity, she was standing in front of him. Cheeks flushed the most delicious shade of pink. He could almost smell the joy radiating off of her and his heart softened even more for her. How could he not? Standing before him, eyes wide and shining with love, he knew that he would burn the world around him if it would keep her safe.

The priestess behind them said the usual prayers and said both of their names, Eris jumping slightly because he had been so lost in the female in front of him. Vows. Yes, he had written vows and now had to say them in front of everyone. His hands shook slightly as he grabbed hers, she gave him three little reassuring squeezes.

I vow to love you with all that I am, with all the I ever will be and all that I have. That you will never know a day of pain and loneliness. I vow to do all in my power to protect and honor you. I pledge myself, my name and my court to you. All that I have is yours.

Less than two years ago, those words would have never tumbled so freely from his mouth. He never would have risked loving someone as much as he loved her, having seen the consequences of love with his brother. But Beron was long gone, rotting in the family catacombs, not even his ghost would spoil the chance he had been blessed with.

Once he was done, he continued looking into her eyes. A small sob slipped past her lips, mouth tugging into a smile. Eris reached a hand up to wipe away the tears. “Happy tears.” She mumbled against his hand. It took every ounce of strength he possessed to bring that hand back down to grab hers.

He held his breath while she spoke her own vows. Each word that came out of her mouth had him thanking the mother. He pushed down that part of him that said he didn’t deserve her, that she was too perfect to be with someone like him. He knew she would shut that down instantly so he tried to do the same.

The priestess had them join hands and pulled the ribbon from the table behind them. She held the black ribbon up for them to each place a small kiss against before nimble fingers started lacing it around their wrists. The final knot was left for them to pull tight, each grabbing one piece and pulling it until it slipped in place. Eris knew the priestess was saying words behind them but all he could focus on was his mate standing in front of him, eyes still shining with tears. He could feel his own tears welling with emotions. Before he knew it, she was leaning forward and finally Eris felt her lips against his. HIs free hand came up to delicately lay against her cheek. He felt electricity zip through his skin at the contact and from the way she shuddered into the kiss, he could only assume she felt it too. He all-too-reluctantly pulled away but only enough to lay his forehead against hers and whisper “I love you”

------- Sunbeam POV---------

I saw Eris shift in his seat and I tried to keep the grin off of my face. One look at him and I knew it was taking all his strength not to pull me from the party right this second. Not taking my eyes off Hazel as we talked, I placed my hand on his knee and started rubbing small circles. His whole body tensed at the contact. Pulling my gaze away for a second, I bit back a laugh at his pained expression. His free hand was tightly gripped onto the arm of his chair, the one connected with mine gave my wrist a slight pinch.

He leaned in close rough for the hair on my neck to rise. “Don’t think all these people will stop me from dragging you into my bed, sunbeam.” Heat flared through my whole body. We still had arguably the most important part of the ceremony left. Dinner had yet to be served so the bond wasn’t officially accepted yet. I counted down the minutes until then. Idle chatter filled the time but I knew Eris was wound tight. Hazel finally was called by someone else and politely excused herself. I felt the male next to me let out a sigh of relief.

“Now I get you all to myself.” He said and pulled my face to his. His face was warm, cheeks flushed and pupils blown wide. It was my turn to shift in my seat, a motion that Eris clocked. That was all it took for Eris to signal the attendant near the table. Signaling to start bringing out the food. This wouldn’t be a formal sit down dinner like those during court. People would watch our first meal and then the party would continue long after we had left.

Eris had given me full control over the menu for tonight. So I picked a mix of our favorites. And as the food popped into existence in front of us, I saw realization wash over his face.

“Thank you.” He said as he kissed the side of my face. I blushed and grabbed his hand under the table.

He refused to let me grab my own food. Ignoring my protests of “I’m supposed to feed you” with a smile. I couldn’t help but laugh as he held up a bite of food and placed it in my mouth. He didn’t so much as let me grab a plate for him until I finished half of mine.

I heard the noise in the background fade to whispers as I copied his earlier motions. His favorite dish, a spicy autumn court tart made of apples that his mother taught me to make, offered in front of him. My hands shook slightly as I felt all eyes in the room on us.

“It’s just you and me my sun. Pretend they aren’t even here.” His voice was soft and comforting. I did my best to listen to him. Focusing on the amber in his eyes as I brought the fork closer to his mouth. Time seemed to still as he wrapped his lips around the metal utensil and finally ate something I offered him.

The effect was instant. The bond fully snapping into place had me breathless. The cheers and clapping of our friends and family all bit forgotten as I couldn’t look away from Eris. When I was eventually able to pull my eyes away, I scanned the crowd and smile widely at my friends all dressed in black. There wasn’t a sting in my chest as my eyes caught the blue siphons. Azriel smiled, a real smile, at the clear joy in my face. My eyes quickly glanced at my old family. All so full of love for me that I had to look away. That and I felt Eris’ hand tighten against my thigh.

“Sweetheart. I know you’re happy but seeing you look at anyone else right now makes me want to pull their head off their shoulders.” He said through gritted teeth. I laid my head on his shoulder and felt his arm wrap around me. His whole body instantly relaxing.

“Please, just rip it off.” I whined as I felt his hands going to undo the corset holding my dress on. His hands were sending chills up my back as he dragged his fingers along the newly exposed skin. We had barely made it to our room before he was beginning to pull at the ribbon holding my dress together. He paid no mind to the hurry in my voice as he responded

“Where’s the fun in that?” He paused long enough to get the words out before he continued his slow movements. I shifted my weight slightly, trying to push back into him. Eris let loose a heavy sigh but still didn’t stop

“You wrapped yourself up so nicely for me, is this,” He pressed a kiss along my spine, “really so bad that you can’t be patient.” I could only mewl at the feeling of his hot lips gliding along my spine. Despite my impatience , my back arched into his touch. Eyes fluttering shut as I bit back a deep moan. Finally the dress pooled at my feet leaving me in only my panties. My back still faced Eris and when I turned to face him my mouth went slack at the hunger written clearly across his face. Hands clutching the bedsheets with white knuckles as he drank me in.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous.” He stretched out his hand for me to take and I couldn’t help the laughter that was ripped from my mouth as he pulled me into him. Arms bracing myself against his chest, I still felt the soft fabric of his jacket against my nipples. They hardened and I watched his pupils grow even wider as his gaze dipped down.

“Eris.” I had only just said his name before his mouth was on mine, one hand locked on the back of my head as the other one trailed over my front. I jerked against his hold as he tweaked a nipple between his fingers. His tongue claimed my mouth as he pulled me down onto his lap. Legs spread along his muscular things. All the thoughts cleared out of my head as I felt his hardness under me. When I went to move my hips, he held me still. Fingers pressing deep into my thigh. I could smell his arousal in the air.

Suddenly unable to stand the clothes separating him for me, I started undoing the buttons of his shirt. He let me push the fabric from his shoulders and my hands were all over him. Touching the planes of his stomach, hands running through the small patch of hair in the center of his chest then running over his back as we continued to kiss. His teeth ran lightly along my lower lip and I pulled away panting. The heat in my stomach had turned into a raging sensation that I could not ignore any longer.

“Please… touch me. I can’t…” the words felt like mush in my mouth, tongue already heavy from the lust coursing through my body. No smart comment from his mouth to be found as he gently flipped me over onto my back, legs half hanging off the bed.

Seeing Eris slowly kiss down my stomach was a sight I would never forget. My eyes closed as I honed in on the feeling of his lips. Unable to focus on anything other than that one point of contact. His fingers hooked into the sides of my panties, pulling them down as his kisses descended lower. My breath speed up as he pulled them completely off, my foot flicking them somewhere in the room. It didn’t even process that this was the first time Eris had seen me fully naked. Nothing mattered as he hooked my leg over his shoulder exposing me to him. A delightful groan left his mouth before he placed a loving kiss to my center. I moaned loudly at the contact and he pulled my hips closer to his face and licked a long slow stripe up my folds. His hands went to hold my thighs apart as they tried to snap closed around his head. My own hands latched onto his hair and tugged gently. I tried to pled for him to not tease but found myself unable to speak as he latched his lips around my clit.

He took his time, ignoring my cries of faster. Working me slowly to the brink. When his fingers joined his mouth I thought I would pass out at the pure pleasure of it. His fingers were gentle, opening me up despite the fact that I was already soaked for him. The sounds of my wetness filled the room as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, the sound managed to make my cheeks heat up. I could nothing but take what he gave me. My back leaving the bed as my spine arched. One hand tangled in his hair and the other searching for his free hand. I locked our fingers together, resting on my thigh. My moans falling out of my open mouth in pants, almost too breathy to hear. My toes curled along his back and I felt my orgasm beginning to crash through me. He didn’t stop his fingers or his mouth as I screamed his name. My grib in his hand and hair tightening as my eyes screwed shut. Aftershocked wracked through my body as his name continued to drip off my lips. He didn’t stop as I used my legs to push him away. When I saw his face I almost laughed. The slight pout in his lips when he had to pull away was almost comical.

He rose off his knees and I saw that he had unlaced his pants. The loose waistband caused them to slip lower on his hips as he stood, showing off the prominent vee that had my mouth watering. The line of hair on his stomach guiding me to exactly what I wanted, needed. When I lurched forward to sink to my knees, he caught my chin with his hand forcing me to look in his eyes.

“Tonight’s about you. There will be time for that later.” I went to argue but the look he gave me let me know he wouldn’t hear it. That didn’t stop my hand from darting out and reaching for him. He didn’t stop me as I pulled down his pants and boxers in one motion. His hardened length springing free and slapping against his stomach. I could only stare with wide eyes as I saw him.

I knew he would be pretty, every single part of Eris was pretty. But as I looked at his thick cock, slightly curved and the same color as his lips I felt my mouth water. I couldn’t stop my hands from running lightly along the underside of him, exploring and I all but purred at the feeling of the soft skin. A firm contrast to how rock hard he was under my touch. Warmer than the rest of him I kept exploring every inch of him. He cursed under his breath as I squeezed my hand, hips already starting to chase after my movements. His hand went to capture my wrist, halting my movements. Eris was already breathing heavily above me. I spread my legs slightly for him, an invitation to where I wanted him most. He didn’t need to be asked twice.

I felt his thighs meet mine as he lined the tip up with my aching hole. Teasingly, he just barely pushed in before he pulled his hips back.

“Don’t tease.” Was all I could get out, my own lips forming into a pout as I already missed the heat of him. He chuckled softly before pushing in another inch. Inch by inch he pushed inside of me, my walls fluttering around him. Both of us let out long moans at the feeling.

“Gods you feel perfect. This, you, were made for me.” He gritted out as he bottomed out. I felt him deep in my stomach. It’s all I could do to nod at his words as I adjusted to his size. He didn’t move, just stayed buried to the hilt inside of me until I was crying for him to move. So slowly I could feel every ridge and vein of him inside of me, he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into me. The motion had me sliding up the bed slightly, chest bouncing with the force of his thrust. He kept that same deep and slow pace, working me just as slowly as he had before. My hands were joined with his above my head, his arms caging me in. He had emptied out all other thoughts in my head except for him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this. Gods I love you so much.” He spoke into my neck, lips placing messy open mouth kisses along my jaw and collarbone.

“I love you. With my whole heart and soul. My husband. My mate.” At my last word, he stilled his hips. Still deep inside me, I tried to push against him to move but he stared deep into my eyes as he said

“Say it again.” His voice held so much adoration that I could do nothing but comply.

“My mate. My beautiful, strong, loving mate. You’re mine and I’m yours.” He groaned at my words and resumed his slow thrusts. I felt my high start to creep up on me again. Eris must have sensed it too because his thrust became shorter, grinding somehow deeper into me until I was wailing underneath him.

He pulled one of his hands away from where ours were connected to trail down my front. When his fingers started swirling slow circles on my clit, I erupted around him. He swallowed my moans with his mouth. My second orgasm devoured any part of me that could live without Eris. He worked me through my orgasm and as he went to pull out, I locked my legs around him keeping him against me. He was about to protest as I used my thighs to flip us over. He was suddenly underneath me and I let out a scream at the feeling of him so deep in me.

Adjusting my hands so they were now resting on his chest, he pulled us further up the bed so his back was resting against the headboard. Fully seated on his lap, I wrapped my arms around his neck as I took a hesitant bounce. We both groaned at the new position. I started moving my hips faster and he wrapped a hand around my waist to pull me down onto him. He was meeting me thrust for thrust and I joined our lips again. It was too much and not enough all at the same time. I couldn’t get enough of the feeling of his skin against mine. I felt the tears running down my face at the tidal wave of emotions that rushed through me. This was the male I had gone through so much to be with. The second chance I didn’t know I would be granted. I laid my head against his shoulder as I continued moving against him. His arm only wrapped tighter around me. Our pace was unhurried, almost lazy as we clung to each other. I wasn’t so much riding him anymore as he used his grip on my waist to push up into me. His stomach brushing against my clit with every thrust of his hips. My third release squeezed through me without a warning, still so sensitive from the other two. He cursed as I felt him twitch inside me, holding me down tightly against him I felt his warm release inside of me. He panted my name against the top of my head, pressing me closer still to him until I was unsure where I ended and he began. We stayed like this, both of us riding out the waves of pleasure until I was finally able to open my eyes.

Tears began again at the pure undiluted love I both felt through the bond and saw on his face. I saw his own eyes get glassy as I brought my nose to his, brushing against his face softly. I nuzzled my face against his and just stayed wrapped in his arms, still full of him.

I leaned my head against his shoulder again and stayed wrapped in his arms until I felt a small motion of his hips under me. His slight groan had me meeting his eyes once again. The tentative roll of my hips confirmed that he was hard again. Much to my dismay, I pulled myself off of him faster than he could push my hips back down.

“What are you…” I heard his words cut off as I pulled myself onto all fours, arching my back further than needed for him to get the hint. I heard him suck in a breath as I felt his release seep out of me and run down my thigh. That little release of breath was all the warning I got before he was fully inside me again. This is what we both needed. The frenzy that I had heard about. He pulled my hips higher up until my face was pushed into the mattress, his hips pistoned into mine. While I loved the slow pace from before, the bruising pace of his thrusts soothed the ache that wouldn’t seem to go away. I pushed back on him with all the forced I had. Begging him to go harder, faster. His hand wrapped around my hair and he pulled me flush up against his chest. His hips didn’t slow as he truly began to fuck me. My hands went to rest on his thighs, nails digging into his smooth skin leaving angry crescent marks. I screamed as I let him set a punishing pace.

His hips lost none of his earlier dexterity as he claimed every inch of my body. His mouth was sucking harshly against my neck. I lost count as orgasm after orgasm rolled through me. And he gave me one last hard thrust before he spilled into me again with a cry of his own. I collapsed against him, chest sagging as I attempted to catch my breath. Once I could breathe again, he rolled over so we were both on our side. I didn’t let him pull out of me yet. His warm fingers traced lazy patterns over my shoulder and down my back. We didn’t speak as we wrapped ourselves in our own little bubble of warmth.

“Sleep or bath first?” He asked me. And curled up in his arms, I knew there was no way I was making in to the bathroom. The idea of him not being inside me almost bringing tears to my eyes again. He must have felt that through the bond because he pulled me tighter against him and kissed my cheek.

“We can stay right here for as long as you want Sunbeam.”

I stopped counting the amount of times we made love throughout the night. Night that slowly turned into day and I still that feeling clawing in my chest wouldn’t go away unless Eris was buried deep inside me. He had managed to coax me into the bath with the promise that he would fill me right back up the moment we sat down in the water. He only pulled me off long enough to help me clean between my legs and even that had me frantically climbing back onto him. I let him wash my hair and he smiled as I reached for the shampoo to wash his in return. I scratched his scalp as I washed it and his responding groan had the smell of my arousal floating into the air again. The water had started to cool slightly as he wrung another lazy orgasm out of me. Satiated for the time being, we dried each other off once all the soap had been washed off. He carried me to our bed and I curled myself against his chest, leg draped over his hip. My hands rubbing over his chest, feeling that amber hair under my fingertips. The small circles he rub into my back had my eyes growing heavy and I drifted off to sleep.

Judging by the sun reflecting through the windows, it was almost evening when I started to wake up. Looking up at Eris I found his eyes were already on me and I blushed under his heavy gaze. I pulled my head off his chest and gave him a small peck on the cheek.

“I love you Eris.” I mumbled already half asleep again.

“And I love you Sunbeam.” Was the last thing I heard before I drifted back to sleep.

Tag list: @starsandsins @nocasdatsgay @daycourtofficial

#acomaf #acosf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #eris acosf #eris vanserra #high lord eris #eris x you #eris x oc #eris x reader #Eris venserra smut #eris smut #eris fluff #mate!eris #Eris x day court!reader

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sadokasochism · 3 days

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I am destroyed over the whole god/worshipper dynamic and have no idea how to adequately put it into words.

I mentioned in another post that Mizi could not fathom Sua ACTUALLY dying, or comprehend what death really meant, and attributed this to her relatively comfortable and sheltered life as the pet of Shine. She was not taught to conceptualise death as a loss, and she never faced any opposition to that world view. From what we know, she might have never really known true, lasting pain or loss before the end of Round 1.

However, her reaction could also be due to her placing Sua on a pedestal as her personal god and universe. She viewed Sua as her absolute everything, and why would any faithful worshipper believe their god could be killed? Only, while Sua was everything to HER, that perception did not carry over to their captors. Mizi's love and devotion was not enough to save Sua. Forces stronger than them both took her away like she was nothing.

How must Mizi have felt, having her perception of Sua as the centre of the universe shattered that way? Coming to the violent realisation that Sua was just another human, and that humans are indeed that vulnerable and disposable? That Sua could now only exist in memories and in the visions that haunt her? That Sua is not a god, but a ghost?

Now we look at Till's perception of Mizi. Again, in an earlier post I mentioned the tragedy of Till falling for someone who did not have a reason to leave. He had a lot of blind faith in Mizi, and it could be said that he idealised her as a paragon.

It's not hard to see how he reached this point. The poor kid had not been shown a lot of kindness in his life, and so meeting someone who was genuinely good and so full of joy must have had a huge impact on him.

However, his faith is still a blind one, but in a different way to Mizi's blind faith in Sua. He is happy to endure any amount of horrible treatment and does not expect anyone to help him. He doesn't resent Mizi for being so close to their captors, for her dreams stopping at Alien Stage. He doesn't resent her after he gives up on his chance at freedom and is subjected to who knows how many more years of pain and torment at the hands of their captors (Not that Mizi is at fault, Till made his own decision that Mizi likely never even knew about).

He sees Mizi's innocence and ignorance to the cruelty of their reality as something wonderful instead of a character flaw that prevents her from saving herself or her loved ones.

Sua has the same issue, seeking comfort and bliss within Mizi's brightness instead of acknowledging the cruel reality of their world. Maybe she felt sharing her perspective with Mizi would dim Mizi's bright spirit, and so she was more than content to wait out the clock with her god.

Maybe Sua felt that meeting Mizi, loving her and being loved by her in return, was nothing short of a miracle after the life she had lived before Anakt Garden. Maybe she felt in light of that, aspiring for something like freedom or a long, long life of happiness with the person she loved the most was asking far too much. The time she got with Mizi was already a miracle, why expect or demand anything more?

If Sua was afraid of Mizi losing her brightness, no wonder she was so affected by Ivan's lecture about becoming a source of trauma for Mizi after her death.

Ivan's view of Till as his god is a bit different. He is similar in that he doesnt seem to demand his devotion be reciprocated, he just wants his god to acknowledge him as a person, as someone that is at least PART of Till's universe, if he can't be all of it.

He is also very willing to become a martyr for his god while expecting nothing in return but Till continuing to live. He acknowledges Till as vulnerable and falable in a way that Till doesn't with Mizi, and Mizi didn't with Sua. He knows damn well that while Till is the centre of HIS universe, their captors certainly do not hold Till in that same regard. He knows that love and devotion in a vacuum does not save anyone.

Which is why he was always the one to free Till, to try and escape with him, and why he pulled the stunt he did in Round 6. Ivan knew that actually making an impact in this world required personal risk and sacrifice, because their captors don't give a fuck if you're in love or if that other pet-human they're about to kill means everything to you.

Till knew this too, but his idealised version of Mizi is too perfect to be broken and beaten down by this world the same way the rest of them have been. So he's still shattered by Round 5, seeing how far Mizi has fallen and then not knowing if she's alive or dead, but knowing for sure she is far out of reach. I wonder, did he regret not running away with Ivan at that point? Did he wonder what all those years of suffering were for, if he was just going to end up losing Mizi anyway? If this world was able to break her too, no matter what he did?

Mizi is gone and changed forever, and nothing he did could stop it. His love and devotion and sacrifice wasn't enough. He failed his god.

In Round 6, Ivan is faced with the same thing. His god has lost his fighting spirit, is changed forever, and Ivan's love and devotion wasn't enough to save him. The last thing he can give is his life, and hope that will be enough. Just like Sua. But he was never Till's god, was never even part of his universe, he probably won't even leave a ghost behind. So, the choice is obvious, really.

They're all so desperate for hope and connection in this lonely, painful existence that they make a person their entire universe, and then are repeatedly crushed when they are shown again and again that their soul-consuming love for one another is seemingly meaningless in a world that views them as infinitely disposable.

#alien stage #alien stage mizi #alien stage sua #alien stage ivan #alien stage till #alnst #alnst mizi #alnst sua #alnst ivan #alnst till #mizisua #mizitill #ivantill #basically i will never know peace again

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kyupidos · 3 days

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04/28/24’s delivery 🏹✉️ twisted wonderland

and, here’s to you!ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ,ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ ;; summary. ‘a date, for a kind thing they did for you.”

characters. savanaclaw , octavinelle : ruggie bucchi , jade leech ( separate ) ;; romantic . 🖇️ tags. reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader may or may not be yuu ( up to the reader ), pre-relationship, romantic fluff

📡 _a/n. well, this is a little short..sorry for the late-ish update y’all, was busy praising my sebek nesoberi that i finally got 🙏🙏

r. bucchi

— oh wow, how ruggie would appreciate a buffet styled dinner date.. and to think he was getting it because he helped you out on some important assignments you missed out on because you were rotting sick in bed!! to have been able to have racked up this kind of debt for you to get this sort of pay…wait hey, did you think he liked you? oh, he doesn’t, not like the food he eats somehow tastes better when he’s eating with you, and it’s not like he’s oddly nervous whenever you near him. ..on obvious lie on his end—he knows full well he likes you, but he’s not sure he’d be able to provide for you, so he lays a little low until he can assess.

— so to know you invited him on this kind of dinner date, to a buffet? safe to say he’s stoked if nothing else. he’s just about ready to eat whatever comes his way, but at the very least he’d like to cater to you. this is a date after all, and he’d hate to ruin the chance you gave him. so take a seat at your table, he’ll bring him and yourself whatever foods may suit your fancy, and do his best to impress you since you’re the one paying for this. he wouldn’t want to disappoint, or take advantage of this in an unsavory manner ( obviously he’s still gonna eat as much as he can, what’d ya expect? ).

— once you get back to your dorms, nearing the dead of night around a little around when one would usually eat their dinner, expect him to invite you over to savanaclaw for said dinner, something he was ready to prep just for you. after all, while a buffet is nice, a homemade dinner is equally so, if not better given it was made from the heart of people you know.

j. leech

— after scaring some delinquent classmates off your tail with his scary ( not yet ) boyfriend attitude, you took it upon yourself to ask jade on a date to go mountain hiking—and who was he to refuse? after all he’s head over heels for you, and he’s been looking for a well enough opportunity to go on an outing for you; he would never decline a chance like this. if you hear his little giggles as he comes to find you didn’t stand him up, don’t point it out. not like he’s hiding it, but he might end up a little shy over it. give him a bit to settle into his usual confident mereel self.

— he wouldn’t want you to trip and fall on your hiking date, so he requests you hold onto his hand ( he knows full well you can handle yourself, he just wants an excuse ). either way he does his best to care for you, especially if you only asked to go mountain hiking because you knew it was something that’d make him happy. he might scold you a bit if he found out, not to mention if you happen to be inexperienced. but he won’t chew you out too harshly, because he’s enjoying the time he’s got to spend with you, and he’s hoping you feel the same.

— once the sun is set, finally the two of you go back, visiting jade’s room, which is surprisingly empty, leaving the two of you to bask in each others silence. just lay there for a little with him, and rejuvenate as you settle down into some light conversation after a nice afternoon mountain hiking date.

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coffe-and-tea-time · 2 days

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KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP! KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!

HEHEHEHEHEHE I WAS WAITING TO COOK THIS

Coffee insanely speaking! Thanks Dear, you gimme the perfect excuse to write a second part just in time although I expected the option of talking to him to come first. Not that I'm complaining lol

Post where this suggestion came from

↪︎ ☾ I love to see you ....................................... .......................................☆ I love to hear you↩︎

TW: yandere behavior, delusions, murder of self-preservation, stalking, obssesion, somewhat willing reader, kinda denying of bad decisions

Of course, the best option is to stay still, not because you are enjoying this no no, of course not...

Despite his soft voice that sounds rather familiar, you can't really recall who or where. So the safest option is just giving in at the moment, you didn't know how he could react so the safer the better, isn't it?

A smile starts creeping on your face against your will, seems like you are a rather bad actor when it's required, huh?

“Oh, I'm really glad, you seem like you're finally having a good dream… will it be too greedy if I want to be inside that little dream of yours? Well, if you find that greedy, you won't be able to handle me later”

Hearing a close mouthed giggle following the whisper makes your heart flutter softly, like this is some kind of really romantic scene in his mind. You were able to hear the faint sound of footsteps, he seems like he's doing a little room tour, making it a little hard to hear him.

“Oh Dear, you were researching that thing again?”

It seems like he found his way into your phone, what was he referring to?

“Why do you keep reading so much about romance? Are these words good enough to keep your focus?... Maybe I have to start practicing oral expression? It's been a while since I felt like that, last time was when you downloaded that stupid dating sim… This is truly irritating, the names they use, the way they ‘communicate’ to you; do no justice, I can express myself way better, my love, and how my eyes change when I see you walking by… just... please, I need only one chance, and I promise you won't have a room left for doubts”

Even though he made the effort to lower his voice in order to 'not wake you up', it's clear how his tone is changing with every word depending on the topic; First, a low hint of infatuation, then, what sounds closer to a plead and, finally,...was that...hopelessness?

Honestly, in a normal situation, you would be annoyed by someone searching through your phone but only an idiot would think this man would judge you even if you had pictures of dead people there, more like he's genuinely looking for more of you, despite the fact that it's really not the ‘proper’ way, you can't say it didn't work.

“My beloved Cherry, what can i do for you to talk to me? Those characters seem to steal your attention quickly… I would be lying if I sad I'm not a little hopeful because of them though, you seem to have quite the specific taste, Cherry, and I believe I fit perfectly on them... if only I could find the right moment to get into your routine, to be part of your life…”

Weird that he worries about getting to talk to you with an ideal scene but not worrying about stalking you, but maybe it's kind of understable? Since well, everyone likes to check on their crush on social media even if they take a while to actually talk, even if this guy took it a little too far, he sounds... harmless like his wish is just to win your affection…

wait a second…

Are you truly relaxed in this kind of situation? What is going on with you? Why? Why… well, can't say you didn't ask for this, even as a joke, you know this time is different because it's real, but… why does reality feel like a fantasy right now? Is it because of him?

“Huh, I come here as a routine by now, I still get the same queries, I’m dying to find the answers soon..”

Sensing that lightly sweet fragrance once more makes you know he’s approaching your ‘sleeping’ form once again, making it easy to hear him despite his constant whispering.

“Would you let me cuddle you? Would you let me kiss you? Would you mind if I were clingy? Would you mind if I get jealous? Would you mind if it seems like I already know more about you than I should? I want to hold you my dear, I can’t wait for the day I can just snuggle with you every time we want… I really can’t wait anymore, I need to be closer to you… I guess I have no option other than to talk to you out of the blue, I dislike to be so imprudent, but I promise I will make up for it once you accept me in your life, Love”

You feel a gentle hand slightly caress your cheek as a little peck is placed on your forehead, making you almost smile like a fool if it weren’t for the fact that pretending to sleep is your priority in this sweet moment, unexpected but called for moment.

“Sweet dreams Cherry, I have to prepare what I should say tomorrow, I will put all of my efforts to be my best self to make a good first impression, I hope I snatch enough of your interest to be on your mind even for a moment”

Oh, he is definitely gonna be stuck in your mind for a while, as you try your best to focus on the sounds, you catch his steps as he seems to walk away… but you keep up with your act just in case.

So, tomorrow, huh? Seems like once again you have important decisions in your hand, should you indulge in your fantasy and let him get near you? It also sounds fun to go to him first… But, maybe you should try to avoid him? It’s the safer choice, but do you really want that? He seems safe enough not to raise any of your flags, he seemed so caring for you…

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

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raydays-swap-au · 15 hours

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Finally tried my hand at redrawing a screenshot for my swap AU.

I did my best to mimic the style of the show in this one ( cuz, yes, usually I'm not trying to mimic the style of the show. You can tell by my hashing and colored lines. ) Though I can tell the lineweight is definitely off ( especially on Velvette, ) but I'd still say it's pretty good for my first attempt to mimic the show's style as much as I possibly can. The lineweight issue will prob be fixed the more I draw these, idk man.

Either way, I find it so funny that Vox, due to being pretty much entirely blue, just sticks out like a sore thumb. All the while Velvette being all red sorta blends in a lot.

Anyway, original screenshot and more info under the cut + unedited version of my swap!Vox cuz yes

Honestly, while coloring in swap!Vox I was all like "man, this guy is too blue for this entirely red background" so I looked up the original episode. Turns out that there's a slight red hue put onto the characters ( in some episodes/scenes/locations ) and Cannibaltown is one of those places, with a really noticeable red hue. You can see it really well on Charlie in particular ( who shows up just a few seconds later in this scene due to the camera zooming out. ) Either way, that let me give Vox that same red hue to have him blend in more. With his actual colors he stuck out even more tbh lmao.

Also, Velvette is just so tiny. Like, Vox and Alastor ( and Rosie too ig, though in some scenes she's shorter than Alastor ) are around 7'0, ll the while Velvette goes to around right under Vox's TV head. Idk. I'm just glad I redraw the entire background to account for the stuff not seen, due to Rosie and Alastor blocking it.

Also the lineart in the background is mostly traced to make sure the perspective is accurate, though the characters themselves aren't traced obviously. Just thought I'd mention since I prefer to be transparent about when I trace or not ( even if it is extremely rare that I trace at all )

I also noticed how inconsistent the artist(s) are with Alastor's arm lengths. Idk maybe it's just to emulate perspective in regards to his forearm(s), but even his upperarms are uneven. Not that I mind as it means I can be more lax in that regard, but it's just something I noticed.

And yes, I edited this post cuz the first one had Vox be too red for my taste. Does he stick out more now? Yes. Does him being too red/muddy bother me less now? Also yes.

Also, just because I really like how swap!Vox looks in this scene, here's a version with no background and red filter of him.

Drawing swap!Vox like that is honestly the only reason I even decided to do a redraw of this specific screenshot. I just really like how Alastor looks in the original lol :3

#rayday's swap au #hazbin hotel swap au #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel swap au vox #vox #swap au #screenshot redraw

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cripplecharacters · 17 hours

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Hi! This is a sort of weird question, but I’m writing a sci fi /fantasy book with two disabled main characters:

1. Cove is twelve years old and has something along the lines of Williams syndrome (possibly that, possibly Down syndrome—still deciding). He’s mildly intellectually disabled and has low muscle tone + an unspecified heart problem (which is stable but he still gets regular checkups for it). His power is turning into a giant at will. He might have PTSD for reasons that are potentially triggering, so I won’t go into details ^^’ He really likes the ocean and spicy food, and hates people staring at him or judging him

2. Lucas is sixteen and uses a wheelchair full time due to cerebral palsy. His hands tend to shake a lot too. His power is turning into a Sphynx cat. He’s a trans guy. Idk what he would like or dislike yet tbh, but I picture him dressing in black clothes a lot

My question is this—what are some ways these characters’ powers could like interact with their disabilities? So far I have that overusing his giant power could possibly put strain on Cove’s heart. and if Lucas wants to move around independently in his cat form, he’d probably need one of those animal wheelchairs for his back legs?

Also— is there anything else I need to consider while I write this story?

I’m not trying to get you to do all the brainstorming for me btw! I hope it doesn’t seem like that ^^’ I’m just looking for other people’s thoughts and input-

Hi!

I think that the powers you gave them are very cool! Often with disabled superpowered characters there's the trope of always having the ability be fundamentally connected with their disability. Someone shapeshifting into a cat is awesome!

The concept of Cove's transformation putting pressure on his heart is very realistic (if you can say that about shapeshifting, lol)! Both Down and Williams Syndrome come with cardiac problems, so you won't need to change that if you decide to switch the exact disability. I'm thinking that maybe he could try to slowly turn giant, rather than instantaneously? I imagine that turning back to being normal-sized could also cause some issues. I'm unsure if that's a part of your story, but I think that having his family worry about him transforming because of his heart would be realistic as well. Wouldn't really classify it as infantilization because he's twelve, and I know that a lot of parents of children with DS are extremely cautious around the cardiovascular problems (not sure about Williams Syndrome here, but I think it would make sense as well)! You mentioned PTSD, and while I don't see anything wrong here from what you said, I would just urge you to not have some weird "PTSD flashback = turns giant and extremely violent" (violent being the key word here) kind of scene. (If you have PTSD yourself then feel free to do whatever you want of course). But I think that him becoming bigger when he feels threatened as a defense mechanism of sorts would make sense.

For Lucas, I think that the idea of shapeshifting from a wheelchair user to a wheelchair using cat goes incredibly hard. As for the ways that it could interact with his cerebral palsy: if he has issues with his arms then he would use the wheelchair a bit differently. In the kitty wheelchair the whole energy comes from the forelimbs, so if his hands shake then he would be much more wobbly as a cat than as a human. I'm not sure whether cerebral palsy in kitties is a thing, but you can look up cats with cerebellar hypoplasia. It's not the same thing but causes some similar symptoms! For example, the lack of balance that Lucas could have due to shaky limbs.

In my opinion your story sounds great! If you have any more questions with more specific details, feel free to send another ask :)

Sorry for the late answer! I hope this helps!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #potato-head-kids #cerebral palsy representation #intellectual disability representation #fantasy species #wheelchairs #ptsd representation

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zaldritzosrose · 2 days

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Divine Violence: Part Two

Summary: Prophecy was a dangerous thing. “The one akin to you, will be your downfall.” Daemon could only think of one. His nephew, Aemond. He had not even considered another. Viserra. His niece. While unlike him in physical skill and prowess, she was more than Daemon’s mirror in temperament. The twins, married in the ways of Valyria, and a force that Daemon soon would reckon with.

TW: She/Her Pronouns, use of OC (Viserra Targaryen), mentions of character deaths, canon-typical incest/twincest, mentions of child death, descriptions of sex (not full smut).

Words: 1,769

Valyrian translations at the bottom of the post.

And AGAIN, thank you @legitalicat for being my lovely beta!

Sex and Vengeance

She felt sick. Stomach twisting into knots over and over. Jaehaerys dying was one thing, but to know Daemon had been the one behind the act was another. Viserra could not bear to tell Aegon herself, sending word through Ser Criston and Larys Strong instead. What she felt was nothing compared to what Aegon would feel, she knew that, but she could not bring herself to see the emotions when they raged through him.

Aemond, however, knew something was wrong the moment she entered their chambers.

“Ābrazyrys?” Aemond asked, the moment she shut the door, just one word enough to convey his concern.

He was a man of few words, in even Viserra, but he was perceptive. From the way her brow remained furrowed, and her hands clenched and relaxed. Aemond knew she had been down to the cells, something he had not hesitated to berate Aegon for allowing. Not that Aemond believed she would be unsafe, but he knew whatever she heard would shake her to her core.

When she did not answer, he walked over, setting down his book with little ceremony. His focus now was Viserra, hands on her arms to keep her in front of him.

“Tell me.”

Only then did she look at him, concern evident in the way he stared and the thin set of his lips. But it was as though she could not form words. Nothing would be enough to convey what she felt.

“Daemon.” Was all she could manage. But it was enough.

Aemond could piece together the rest and Viserra could feel the subtle tightening of his grip as he held back his own anger. His rage could wait. Revenge would be had, one way or another. But he had to focus on her now.

“It was Daemon…” She repeated, as if finally coming to terms with the situation.

Aemond remained silent, words were not what Viserra needed right now. He knew her as well as himself, like she was an extension of his own body and soul. He led her gently to the couch by the fire, where he had been reading when she entered. Silently, he sat down and coaxed her into his lap.

He could almost hear her mind whirring, processing everything that had happened. Not only today, but in the last few weeks. Lucerys, dead. Jaehaerys, dead. Helaena catatonic and Aegon sick with rage. Their mother and grandsire doing the best to hold the family together. Her only solace was Aemond now, the only one who could keep her sane.

His hands rested on her back, pulling her closer and urging her to curl her body into his. She was quick to relent, her head buried in his neck as she finally let herself process it all. Tears soaked the fabric of his shirt, but Aemond cared little. Viserra needed it. He needed it, his own eye stinging with tears he still would not shed. His hands firm as he rubbed up and down her back, slowly but surely calming the heaving of her breath as she sobbed.

“We have to do something.” Viserra mumbled, or at least that is what Aemond thought she said.

He leaned back and tilted her body to look at her, his finger under her chin. One brow raised which told her to repeat herself.

“We need to do something.” She said again, this time far more forceful.

Aemond knew where she was headed. Revenge. The same thing he wanted, that Aegon wanted. That their family wanted. But the way she asked, the look in her eyes. She meant the two of them. Not the family.

Them.

“We?” Aemond asked, his thumb stroking over the curve of her chin.

“What shall we do, my love?” he asked, his thumb now tugging down gently on the flesh of her lip.

Viserra paused, distracted by not only his proximity, but the warmth of his hand and the way he stared. What did she want? Revenge, yes. But how? It was not as though they could demand Daemon be brought to them, that would never work.

They needed to be clever about this.

Aemond took advantage of her silence and began to pepper kisses over her neck and jaw. For the two of them, there was never a wrong moment for intimacy. Nothing ever stood in the way of their respective appetites.

“What would my sweet idaña do in her vengeance?” Aemond muttered between kisses, knowing his voice and touch was enough to not only relax her, but entice her.

The sigh Viserra let out was enough to tell him it was working. The way she leaned into him, silently asking for more contact.

“We cannot demand Daemon come stand for his deeds…” Viserra said softly, doing her best to concentrate as Aemond moved down her jaw to her neck.

All she received in response was a hum of approval. Politics and strategy were his game, not hers. She preferred the more, secretive arts. Using the smallest morsel of information against another where she could, an art she had perfected by now. Aemond focused solely on distracting her, letting her relax and think things through.

With practised hands, he maneuvered her to straddle his lap, hands squeezing her thighs when she did not continue talking.

“Word says he is in Harrenhal, laying claim to the stronghold for Rhaenyra’s cause,”

Aemond nodded as he nipped at her neck, hands continuing to knead the flesh of her thighs as he bunched her skirts higher. All of this was the obvious part, to him anyway. But he needed Viserra to work things through. She needed to work things through.

“Harrenhal would be a prize and more for our cause, would it not, brother?” Viserra pulled herself away to force his answer.

“A prize, yes, but how would we take it?” Aemond countered and Viserra narrowed her eyes at him, earning her a smirk in response as he resumed his attack on her skin.

“Our uncle is arrogant, but he will expect retaliation. He would expect Aegon to send an army at least,” Viserra replied as her hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to have him biting a little harder at her neck.

“So, we do not send an army.”

Aemond had to admit, he had not expected such coherence in her plan. Not because he doubted her intelligence, Viserra was more than she seemed. But because he had expected to be filled with a rage that would near burn her from the inside, not be calculated and planned in her vengeance so soon. His smirk could be felt against her neck, telling her she was right.

“I do listen when you prattle on about strategy, you know, my darling,” Viserra purred, tugging him away from her neck and bringing his lips to hers.

“Jāhor ao gūrogon vengeance rūsīr issa?”

Aemond near growled in response, even more so to the High Valyrian. Ever since Storm’s End, he had kept vengeance in his mind and heart. The death of Jaehaerys had only made that need greater. Now, having Viserra has desperate for it as he was, he would leave tonight and burn Harrenhal to the ground if she asked.

"Va moriot.” Was the last word from Aemond’s lips before he had his lips on hers, near throwing her down onto the couch below in his haste.

Some men found lust and desire by softer means, like the flirtation or tender touch of their lady. Aemond, however, found it in the darkness that lived in his sweet sister. That fire that never failed to have both his heart and cock demanding her. And Viserra was always willing.

Aemond’s hands slid under her skirts, making quick work of her smallclothes before slipping his fingers deftly between her folds. It seemed talking about vengeance atop him had been enough to get his precious wife excited. But Viserra was not here for his teasing this time.

“Do not tease tonight, valzȳrys,” Viserra hissed down at him and Aemond chuckled but relented. He knew better than to argue.

He made quick work of his preparations, fingertips spreading her slick over her skin as his other hand made quick work of his own breeches. Tonight, would not be a night for soft caresses and slow sensuality. But Aemond remained gentle as he entered her, as he always was, earning him a moan from Viserra to match his own growl of satisfaction.

His movements were gentle but hurried, pushing inside her until he could move no further. Hands pinning hers above her head as he began to rut into her, lips kissing whatever skin he could.

There was no softness and romance, the two of them pouring all emotion they had into this one act. Aemond’s thrusts brutal as he kissed and nipped any skin he could. Viserra’s nails digging into the hand that held her wrists while her legs wrapped tight around his waist.

Soon, release found them both. Nothing but grunts and growls from Aemond mixed with the soft chants of his name from Viserra. Slowly, he stilled, gently settling his weight atop her as he released her hands.

“I will give you, and our family, the vengeance we deserve, my sweet sister…”

Alys had been summoned to Daemon’s chambers, which surprised her. The prince never asked for her presence since she had given him her last vision. He had all but avoided her. But he had been given word that she had done nothing but stare into her flames for the last three days.

The three days that had past since word had reached him of the success of Blood and Cheese, and rumours had circled she had seen another vision.

“You called, my prince?” Alys asked, standing close to the door as Daemon turned to acknowledge her.

He nodded, gesturing for Alys to come closer.

“The servants said you have been at the flames? Is this true?” Daemon asked, sounding sceptical as usual.

Alys knew this was coming, despite how he would mock her abilities, he still sought them out.

“I have, do you wish to know what I saw?”

Daemon knew to take the witch’s words with a grain of salt. Never outrightly believe what she said, but he needed to know. And what Alys had seen, would change everything. The question was, how much would she reveal?

Alys began to explain, in her usual frustratingly ambiguous way, her vision. The sudden rush of sight that had hit her hard as she had stared into the flames. Slips of silver hair. The quick flashes of blood, flame, and battle.

A decision made.

Vengeance would be taken.

Valzȳrys = husband

Idaña = twin

Ābrazyrys = wife

“Jāhor ao gūrogon vengeance rūsīr issa?” = "Will you take vengeance with me?"

"Va moriot." = "Always."

a/n I do use a translator so the High Valyrian won't be perfect!

And comment or dm if you want to be tagged!

Taglist:

@multyfangirl @khaleesihel @lady-phasma @blissfulphilospher @vhagar-balerion-meraxes

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #oc!viserra targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x oc #alys rivers

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acourtofthought · 3 days

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Would you still consider it a celebration if Gwynriel’s book is next, bc it at least confirms endgame couples?

I will be very happy for Gwynriels and very relieved that it will help lessen the ship wars though I think I'll still feel disappointed.

I want Elucien to happen but I also adore Elain and Lucien as individuals so an Elucien confirmation isn't the entirety of what I want for them.

Az and Gwyn absolutely deserve a HEA and their own healing arcs but there is something to be said for the fact that right now, they are surrounded by love even without a relationship. Yes, they have their own internal struggles but they have a really strong support system, people that have their backs, that encourage them, that believe in them. Az and Gwyn both have their found families but neither Elain or Lucien do.

Elain and Lucien are regularly pushed to the side in favor of the other characters. I understand why that is, SJM has to stay on course with the narrative that they still need to find the court where they'll thrive, but in the meantime that has resulted in them being misunderstood by the others. It results in others speaking for them, the others not encouraging them or helping them find their powers. Hell, Feyre has known about Lucien's real father since ACOWAR and it's almost two years later yet she's still letting him wander around aimlessly thinking he has no place to go.

A Gwynriel book being next means we're going to have yet another book of Elain floating around the River House with no real purpose. Lucien drifting between Spring and the Human Lands while Tamlin remains depressed which means Lucien will feel the effects of that. Elain again not having the chance to have a POV on how she's feeling about the loss of her father, being made, Graysen's rejection, Az's rejection, how Nesta and Az believe she shouldn't be allowed to do anything dangerous. If a Gwynriel book takes 6-9 months, that means nearly three years will have passed from when Elain will have been forced into the Cauldron, given powers from the Cauldron that she still hasn't fully explored and hasn't been given help on training, a confirmed mating bond that remains unaccepted and unrejected, and we will have never had a single person actually ask her how she feels about any of that outside of Feyre's "you couldn't say a single word to him?"

I will be happy for Gwynriels but how can I personally be super excited when that means my two favorite characters will once again suffer for another 6-9 months without having the same support system in place that Az and Gwyn already do?

Gwyn and Az might not have romance yet but they are respected and loved by their friends and we've witnessed that on page. Meaningful moments, moments where their found family have gotten personal with them and asked them to get personal in response (though Az is kind of terrible in that area, we've seen Cassian and Rhys at least try).

Lucien has "friends" in Vassa and Jurian but we've never actually seen that connection, we're just told it's there so we have to assume it is.

And when he tried to open up to Feyre, she made fun of him.

Elain has "friends" with the wraiths but again, we're just told about it rather than witnessing moments that make us actually feel it. And yes, her sisters love her but they don't try to connect with her (Feyre only thinks of her as a pleasant companion).

And the IC, while friendly enough with Lucien, don't necessarily embrace him with any kind of true respect. There's always this underlying current of "can we trust him?", "what can he do for us?" And of course we know Az has issues with him.

The need to prove that both Elain and Lucien belong somewhere other than where they currently is starting to feel a tiny bit overdone to the point that it's a bit cruel, and while that to me would be a perfect time to end their suffering, I can only imagine what another book of that would look like.

#pro elucien #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

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cosmerelists · 23 hours

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Would Cosmere Characters Drive the Speed Limit?

You know, if cars and speed limits existed for them. (Potentially necessary context: I am a USAmerican)

For a different but hilarious take on Stormlight Characters driving, please check out this @saffronique post, which I spent forever looking for because I vaguely remembered someone else doing a driving post and wanted to make sure I hadn't copied them! Anyway it's funny; go read it: https://www.tumblr.com/saffronique/719947907049127936/was-just-struck-by-the-overwhelming-urge-to-rate?source=share

But now for a much more limited question: just, do they go the speed limit?

1. Nale: Yes but also no

As Mr. Beholden-to-All-Laws-of-the-Realm, Nale would of course drive exactly the speed limit! Except that he would also go immediately to the local jurisdiction, get deputized or whatever, and then obtain permission to speed all the time so as to Apprehend Criminals. So he'd actually be almost exclusively speeding but, like, legally.

2. Vivenna: Only at first

Vivenna does drive the speed limit when she first gets her license, because she wants to Follow the Law and be a Good Example for Siri. But, like, everyone is always so mad, and eventually she starts going just like 5 miles over the speed limit, which isn't even breaking the law, really. It's going with traffic! And then maybe 10 miles over, just occasionally 15 but only on a highway when it's safe!

3. Siri: No

Like, going a bit faster is not a big deal, especially if all the other cars are doing the same thing. It's actually safer to go with the flow of traffic!

4. Elend: Depends on who's in the car

Elend drives moderately above the speed limit like most people except if his dad is in the car and then he drives under the speed limit just to piss him off.

5. Vin: No

Vroom, vroom to be honest. Vin doesn't do things slow.

6. Dalinar: Yes

As a young man, Dalinar's speed demon ways led to the deaths of many people. So now he does drive the speed limit and insists that his sons do as well, whether they're in company cars or not.

7. Kelsier: No

Kelsier? Follow a law? I don't think so. He taught Vin to drive, you know.

8. Adolin: Not anymore

When his dad was really into Car Laws, Adolin did drive the speed limit per his dad's instructions. But he's since loosened up a bit. He figures he needs to find his own way to drive!

9. Shallan: No

Shallan drives the speed she needs to drive. Veil definitely drives the fastest, and Radiant is most likely to follow the speed limit. But on average...not so much.

10. Navani: No

Adolin can still remember being in the car with his aunt for the first time and being SHOCKED that she speeds. (In my head this is related to Adolin being shocked when he sees Navani wearing a glove rather than a full sleeve. This may not make sense to anyone else but it feels right to me).

11. Moash: No

Moash always wants to get to his destination as fast as possible. Also I just can't imagine him trying to follow the speed limit.

12. Wax: Depends on the geographic location

Wax drives the speed limit in the Roughs but not in Polite Society (except in dense urban areas where he wishes to avoid, like, killing children).

13. Wayne: Does not have his driver's license

I feel this in my soul.

14. Lirin: Yes

I think Lirin would argue that "getting to your destination thirty seconds faster is no reason to speed and put everyone else on the road in danger! Drive safe - arrive safe! That's what matters!" And then he would go exactly one mile under the speed limit at all times while everyone behind him honks.

15. Kaladin: No

Kaladin spends three months driving very slowly after his dad shows him videos of horrific car crashes but eventually he just can't do it. He NEEDS to get there faster! People are DEPENDING on him! And he likes to feel the WIND in his HAIR as he cruises down the open highway!

(Kaladin and his dad cannot drive together.)

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Nale #Vivenna #Siri #Elend #Vin #Dalinar #Kelsier #Kaladin #Lirin #Adolin #Wayne #Wax #Moash #Navani

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rubylovessharks · 2 days

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what would coffee do to them?

this is not a X reader but i have headcannons about this sooo~ here's what i think coffee would do to each twst character :) also i have no idea why but coffee makes me sleepy, so im not going to pull stuff like this outta nowhere-

Heartslabyul

Riddle- i think he's used to it cuz he studies a lot, so he probably needs to get more energy. So it would make sense that Riddle would drink coffee and gain more energy, nothing weird.

Trey- I don't think he's really into bitter tastes, but he doesn't mind them. So I don't think he'll drink coffee that much, it also probably doesn't do too much though. But what if when Trey drinks too much coffee he'd want to bake more?

Cater- Cater probably drinks coffee in the morning. Cater is a character I don't know too much about but with the small information I have on him doesn't really make me think of what coffee would do to him.. So my guess is that he gets more energy and like any normal person and after a while the energy leaves and he gets tired. Nothing special.

Ace- Ace doesn't seem like someone who would drink coffee often. Maaaybe to study? But not that often. At some point if he drank too much he would just pass out, and when I say too much it'll probably be 5 or 6 cups of coffee. One time Duece found him like that and freaked out so hard, he called Riddle and told him this and Riddle also kind of freaks out but seems calm and takes Ace to the nursery. Deuce makes sure Ace never gets to drink that much coffee ever again.

Deuce- We all know that Deuce studies a lot so he probably drinks a lot of coffee, and also I think he doesn't notice when it's the time Riddle set for everyone to sleep, so until Riddle notices that he isn't asleep he scolds him and then immediately feels concerned about the amount of coffee he's been drinking. The same thing will happen with Ace. Ace swears he's stopping Deuce from drinking that much coffee cuz "he's too loud when he studies!" but we all know that's not true..

Savanaclaw

Leona- This guy almost never drinks coffee only because he naps a lot. But I think he would drink coffee when he NEEDS to do something, so that's he's way of getting energy. But here's the thing, when he does drink coffee even though the caffeine works on him he still looks like he's half-asleep.

Ruggie- This guy knows how to do the best coffee you'll ever drink! But it'll cost you a lot.. He probably does drink coffee in the morning so he can get going throughout the day, this guy has many things to do. I also think that every few hours he would drink another coffee to keep going.

Jack- I don't think Jack drinks coffee, at least not often. Nothing special after drinking coffee as well. He's pretty normal about it.

Octavinelle

Azul- He likes he's coffee with milk, I like to think that the first time he heard of coffee on land (they probably have something like coffee under the sea) he wanted to try all types of coffee, just to fully understand what he likes, and what can sell better. He did not like black coffee.. Other than that he's nothing special as well.

Jade- He's the total opposite of Floyd. He becomes really really energetic. He tries to play it cool, like nothing has changed- but you can see that he has more energy. He's movements are way faster than what they are normally, you can see that he's eyes are looking around more often, and things like that.

Floyd- I think that because Floyd has a lot of energy depending on his mood the way to calm him down would be with drinking coffee. I know that caffeine should make a person more energetic, but with personal experience I feel like falling asleep. I think he would be like that too. The only effect other than sleepiness would be the energy in his veins, he's still sleepy though.

Scarabia

Kalim- Don't give this guy coffee- he'd get seriously energetic. If he already has energy on a normal day coffee makes him even more energetic.

Jamil- He's probably not someone who drinks coffee often. I just don't see him as a guy that drinks it regularly, but he definitely drinks it from time to time, just not super often. I think he has normal reactions to it, not too hyper but not like Floyd who'd fall asleep.

Pomefiore

Vil- He's more of a tea guy. He doesn't drink coffee often, but when he does it would probably be closer to things he needs to do during the late evening. Also a guy that doesn't have a weird reaction like some of these guys would.

Rook- Thinks all coffee is good. He enjoys the beauty of everything, coffee is no different. Doesn't have a preference, will drink any and every coffee. It does not work on him, I repeat. Coffee does not work on Rook. Not getting more energy and not getting sleepy. You'll see this guy downing a cup of coffee and see that nothing happens to him. He'll drink coffee just for the taste.

Epel- First thing in the morning he's doing is make a cup of coffee. Black too, he thinks it's manly. He probably doesn't need it though so after some time you can see that in class he looks more sleepy than a regular student should. Vil probably scolds him about it.

Ignihyde

Idia- He doesn't always drink it cuz he has his energy drinks but if he had to he would make a black coffee to get through the night, I think that at some point energy drinks aren't going to work properly on him so coffee is something he'll start getting used to.

Ortho- He's a robot, he doesn't need coffee. And when he was a child and alive I don't think he would've tried it or something- that's it really.

Diasomnia

Malleus- I don't know if he would be into coffee or not, but I think that the first time he did try it his pupils would get bigger? I know our pupils get bigger because of light and stuff- but Malleus isn't human, so maybe some of the energy he got from the caffeine would make his eyes try to focus more on his surroundings??? Even if he's pupils didn't get bigger, he's eyes would still try to focus around.

Lilia- I'm not sure if in cannon it is said that he drinks anything to keep him awake when gaming with Idia or not but I think that he doesn't need coffee during the night, I think it even takes him a while to fall asleep just cuz bats are night animals so it kinda makes sense that he's fully awake at night. I might be breaking canon or something since I don't know too much about him, so sorry if I did- I like to think that in the morning though he has to drink coffee or else he's not able to function throughout the day. (ik he's not a bat but he has similarities so it makes sense)

Silver- It doesn't work on him, He probably tried drinking coffee at some point in his life to get through the day without falling asleep, but it didn't work very well...20 minutes after drinking it he fell asleep. After that he made another coffee and it would repeat like that all day.

Sebek- He would drink coffee on days he feels like he needs to. I don't know much about this guy so I'm not sure of what else to say.. But he probably would drink coffee with milk, not too much milk though, and he probably brags on drinking it black and not actually his taste, but if he tried black coffee again you'll see him throwing it up cuz he probably doesn't like the taste. He's probably more loud and aggressive after drinking coffee though.

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