#I wrote this during my break

[risustravelogue]

cw. fem!reader

Partly inspired by this post. Damn you Rin /aff

Thinking about Wriothesley telling you to relax on your first night together, because you’re so tense at the thought of his thick cock entering you—no, it’s not gonna fit, it’s too big—even though he has prepared you so much.

You try to let go of the tension, relaxing your hip muscles and spreading your thighs apart for him (it takes everything for him to not go down on you again), and he grips your waist gently, slowly lifting your lower body up. He bends down to kiss you, his hot tip pressing against your entrance.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, and slightly pushes his hips forward. You moan, your breathing quickens at the sensation of his cock bullying its way inside you, slowly but surely spreading your walls apart.

“I can’t… please, I can’t—” you cry, tears rolling down your temple.

“You’re so wet… it’s okay, you can take me,” he shushes, kissing the tears away.

Your back arches as his hips finally snap against yours, your trembling moans and his satisfied groans filling the room.

“There you go… that’s my girl… so good for me,” he coos.

He makes love to you until you’re both spent, bodies tired but satisfied from indulgence—the first of endless nights spent together to come.

© @risustravelogue 2024 • FEEDING THIS WORK TO GENERATIVE AIs IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. • do not repost. • reblogs are precious. • feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. 💖

the gorgeous mdni banner template by @/cafekitsune 💙

[bixels]

The idea that uni protesters are "elitist ivy-league rich kids larping as revolutionaries" on Twitter and Reddit and even here is so fucking funny to me if you actually know anything about the student bodies at these unis. Take it from someone who's going to one of the biggest private unis in the US, 80% of the peers I know are either from the suburbs or an apartment somewhere in America, children of immigrants, or here on a student visa. I've heard about one-percenter students, but I've never met one in person. Like, don't get me wrong, the institution as a whole is still very privileged and white. I've talked with friends and classmates about feeling weird or dissonant being here and coming from such a different background. But in my art program, I see BIPOC, disabled, queer, lower-income students and faculty trying to deconstruct and tear that down and make space every day. So to take a cursory glance at a crowd of student protesters in coalitions that are led by BIPOC & 1st/2nd-gen immigrant students and HQ'd in ethnic housings and student organizations and say, "ah. children of the elite." Get real.

[satorusluver]

Prince!Gojo x maid!reader

Minors DNI

I know I mentioned Prince Gojo x arranged fiancé reader but now I am also thinking about Prince Gojo x maid reader.

Tags/warnings: unprotected sex, creampie

Prince Satoru Gojo, who first saw you years ago when you joined his mother's household when you were both teenagers and had an instant attraction to you. You're not even a lady-in-waiting who serves the queen, they're at least noblewomen. You're a servant to a lady-in-waiting, far far below the Crown Prince in ranking, but do you think that's gonna stop Satoru? Hell no. Not when you're the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on.

It took him years to actually speak more than a few sentences to you though, not because you're so below him, but because you're so ethereal, so beautiful and pure that he didn''t want to corrupt you with the sinful thoughts he has of you. But once the spark between the two of you became apparent, nothing could stop it from blazing, his better judgement and the social hierarchy be damned.

You think he's thinking about any of that when he's balls deep in your soft, velvety cunt? When he's feeling your legs wrapped around his waist and your hot breath panting in his ear, and hearing you whimper his name, his real name, and not "my prince" or "your highness" or "Crown Prince Satoru"? Because here, in this room away from prying eyes, he's just Satoru -your Satoru.

And no, you didn't expect friendly conversations and harmless flirtations and maybe a few stolen kisses to so quickly evolve into Satoru bunching up the skirt of your dress around your hips and rutting into you against the wall of an empty room during the few short minutes before he has high tea and you have to return to washing the windows. His pace is hard and fast due to the lack of time, and it makes your eyes water and your toes curl each time his thick cockhead rams against your sweet spot and causes you to see stars and dig your teeth into your lower lip to keep from crying out loud enough for someone outside the room to hear.

And yes, you know it's a terrible idea. That you should have saved your maidenhood for your future husband. That you're risking everything, your honor and your future, when you feel those ropes of royal seed spurting against your cervix and into your womb and very possibly putting a bastard in your belly.

But how could you have possibly said no to the handsome Crown Prince and those captivating blue eyes that look at you like you're something wonderful, something precious, something more than a servant who scrubs floors and empties chamber pots? When he's kissing the side of your face so sweetly and gasping out a declaration of love as he's fucking that royal seed back into you?

You can't bring yourself to regret it, even when you're soon back to washing down the windows outside of the room where Satoru is now dining with his family, sipping tea from cups expensive enough to keep you fed for an entire year. Not even when you feel that familiar trickle of his seed spilling out of you and pooling in your undergarments, and see those same blue eyes now momentarily flicker over to you with an utterly blank expression that betrays no recognition whatsoever.

[choccorin]

i firmly believe that rin's the type of boyfriend who loves to kiss your hand ... he loves wrapping his slightly cold and callused hand around soft and warm ones, while you tell the café cashier both of your orders.

he loves interlocking your fingers together and rubbing small circles, sometimes hearts, on the top of your thumb as the two of you walk around the park.

he loves to kiss your knuckles everytime he senses that you feel nervous in public. it's his way of calming you down and telling you that you're not alone and that he's here beside you while he looks at you with the softest and loving eyes.

he loves to interlock your pinkies together as he waits for you to wake up, admiring how the sunlight perfectly hits your features, making you look breathtaking.

he loves taking your hand and giving your ring finger a soft peck, a quiet promise that someday he'll buy the prettiest ring there is and put it on your finger, indicating that he's yours and you're his.

[zorosdimples]

mdni - possessive alpha!kakashi. inspired by this ask from caly @qichun, this ask from aly @rookie98writes, and this ask from cher @honeylavendr <3

“i can still smell him on you,” kakashi growls.

you feel the thunderous anger rolling off his body in waves, lightening threatening to crack. he has your back pressed into the mattress, knees flush to your chest, dripping cunt on display and begging for him to fill you.

but kakashi’s heavy cock is too far away to kiss your messy folds; you whimper, whine, and writhe in need, but his firm hold is rigid—sure to leave plum blossoms on the back of your thighs. kakashi grazes his fangs up your jaw to bite and nibble at your earlobe, a teasing taste of what’s to come that has you mewling.

“k-kashi,” you pant breathlessly, an undisguised plea evident in your desperate tone. “he j-just asked for a hug.”

kakashi pauses his ministrations on your ear, silvery stubble scraping your flesh as he moves down to nuzzle the dewy skin of your neck.

“i don’t blame you, pup,” kakashi placates, mouthing a kiss on the column of your throat before raising his head, his narrowed gaze a storm. “but genma fucking knows better than to touch his hokage’s mate.”

without warning, he plunges his cock into your wet heat—you barely bite back a scream. his pace knocks the wind from your lungs, and your head lolls back as he pounds into your cunt.

“gonna fuckin’ knot you and mark you up, sweetness,” kakashi grits out, relentless pace somehow quickening. “everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”

at that, he sinks this teeth into the healed mark on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. agony sears through your body and hot tears carve streams down your cheeks as he pierces your flesh. but the pain dulls as your mate’s soft lips worship the angry wound, his tongue spelling i love yous in apology.

the next day, per your hokage’s orders, you wear a low cut top around the village. genma can’t look you in the eyes.

[delta-piscium]

Steddie | 1.7k words it is (swedish) midsummer so I wrote this based on my favorite old tradition because I can and will make anything steddie, so like glad midsommar (happy midsummer)

“What are you doing?” Steve asks as he follows Eddie to the hallway where he’s frantically putting on his shoes. 

“I almost forgot,” he mutters under his breath not acknowledging Steve at all.

“Forgot what?” 

“I can’t believe I almost forgot.” 

“Eddie,” Steve says a little louder, more adamant.

He does look up at Steve then and almost looks surprised to see him. As if he’d forgotten he was there, as if they haven’t been hanging out for hours. 

“Oh,” he says. “Uhm,” he squints at Steve who waits for him to continue, to explain. He doesn’t.

“Yes?” Steve implores because he would really like an explanation. Eddie had just abruptly stood up halfway through telling Steve about some folklore he’s using in his new campaign, just cut himself off mid-sentence and walked off. Steve doesn’t think it’s especially weird or demanding of him to have questions. 

“Did you have other plans that you just now remembered?” Steve frowns, starting to feel unsure when Eddie still isn’t saying anything. It’s just past eleven at night and Steve doesn’t know what plans those would be but he had showed up unannounced earlier in the evening so it’s not impossible that Eddie had plans that Steve interrupted. 

“No, no, no,” Eddie assures him finally breaking his silence, “it’s- okay it’s a little silly but I read this thing researching and I want to try it.” 

And well, okay then.

Steve raises his eyebrows and waves his hand gesturing for Eddie to go on. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light pink and he resolutely looks somewhere above Steve’s shoulder instead of at him. 

“Midsummer, which is today, is supposed to be this magical night and there are all these traditions and old myths about it.” 

Eddie glances at Steve and he smiles. Tries to show he’s listening and wants to know whatever thing Eddie read about. 

“And well, okay so there’s this one tradition where you pick seven different kinds of flowers before you go to bed and then put them under your pillow and you’re supposed to dream about who you’re gonna spend your life with.” 

Steve blinks, wasn’t expecting that and doesn’t know what to say about it, so, he blinks again. 

“Maybe it’s dumb, but with all we’ve seen magic and folklore don’t seem so far-fetched and,” he shrugs, “I wanna try. And like, it’s close to midnight and I don’t know if that’s a rule but I don’t wanna risk messing it up.”

“It- huh,” Steve frowns slightly and looks at his shoes then back at Eddie. “Yeah alright, let’s do it. Can’t hurt right?” 

His voice is light, like it’s not a big deal and just a fun thing Eddie read about because that’s what it is, isn’t it? But something about it settles deep in Steve’s gut. Makes it feel important in a way he’s not sure he could explain if he tried. Maybe it’s just the fact that Eddie is getting so worked up about the possibility of dreaming about the person he’s gonna spend his life with when Steve maybe a little bit wishes it would be him, but like, only a little. 

Eddie looks at him with wide eyes like he didn’t expect Steve to want to join, like maybe he expected Steve to make fun of him for wanting to do it. But then something seems to switch in him and a slow smile spreads over his face and he gives Steve an exaggerated once over. 

“Looking to find your true love huh, Harrington?” 

“I thought you said it was the person you spend your life with, not the same as true love necessarily.” Steve quips back because technicalities are easier to argue over than answering that question, especially when Eddie is the one asking.

Eddie shrugs. “Different sources say different things, sometimes it’s true love sometimes it’s who you marry.” 

“Well, then I guess we’re both looking to find our true loves?” Steve hedges, drags Eddie down with him if they’re gonna go there. 

A soft look passes Eddie’s face before a responds, voice quieter. “Guess we are, yeah.” 

They pick their flowers in silence, something about the magic being broken if you speak. Walking around the edge of the woods behind Eddie’s trailer a couple of feet apart, every once in a while coming together or crossing paths. 

After, Steve stands in between Eddie’s trailer and his own car. Holding on to his bouquet of seven flowers unsure what to do. He could go home, he should go home, but he doesn’t want to. He did have some beers hours ago and if he was allowed to speak he’d use that as an excuse to not drive and ask Eddie to crash on his couch. Right now he can’t though so he sighs inwardly and turns to his car. 

He makes it about two steps before a hand reaches out and grips him around his free wrist stopping him. When he turns around Eddie is giving him a look that very clearly says ‘stop being stupid’ and jerks his head towards the trailer silently telling Steve to go with him. He doesn’t let go though and uses his grip on Steve to drag him along like he can’t be sure Steve will actually listen and follow. As if Steve would ever not follow Eddie. 

They quickly get ready for bed. And again when Steve walks toward the couch Eddie grabs him and shakes his head. He waves his arms around a bit like that’s supposed to explain anything but Steve isn’t too bothered about an explanation anyways and easily follows Eddie to his bedroom. 

They’ve shared a bed before but always when they’ve been drunk or high so this feels different. Steve is a little glad they can’t speak or he’s sure he’d blurt out something way too revealing about it all. 

He avoids looking at Eddie as he tucks his flowers in under his pillow, knows Eddie is doing the same next to him. Is aware of it only being an old myth from a region halfway across the world but there’s a weight to it. Something real and tangible. 

He expects it to take a while for him to fall asleep like it always does. For him to twist and turn and lay awake until the early morning. For once though, that doesn’t happen. With the weight of Eddie next to him and to the sounds of his soft breathing and small movements, Steve falls asleep.

And he dreams. He dreams of big brown eyes and bright laughter. Of wild hair and warm arms embracing him. He dreams of growing old next to someone and how every wrinkle on their face tells a story of their shared love. 

He wants to stay in the dream forever, desperately tries to hold onto it even as he floats into consciousness. He turns and groans, gets a mess of someone’s hair in his mouth and nose and that’s enough to startle him into full wakefulness. 

Eddie grumbles next to him, clearly also just waking up. Steve looks at him, with his wild hair and his big brown eyes that are slowly blinking open and of course. Of course, it was Eddie he dreamed about.

Their eyes meet and Eddie freezes. Eyes widening as he looks back at Steve. 

“Oh,” he says. 

And yeah, oh.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, unsure of how to bring it up, to ask about it. If he even should? 

He puts on a teasing smile, even though he feels like goo inside, but making it lighthearted is all he can think of because what if he’s taking this whole thing way too seriously? Jumping to conclusions? 

“Dream of anyone?” 

Eddie nods and looks away, “I did.” He says it simply, voice careful. 

And maybe it isn’t just Steve.

“Who?” He asks, dropping the teasing tone. 

Eddie swallows and looks back at Steve. “The person I wanted to dream of,” he says and it’s not really an answer but he’s looking at Steve so intently he thinks it still might be. 

He thinks about Eddie’s quiet but delighted surprise at Steve wanting to join him yesterday. About Eddie dragging him first into his trailer and then into his bed. How they’re so close on Steve’s side of the bed and Eddie must have drifted towards him in his sleep.

He bites his lip to stop his smile from spreading too wide, there’s still a chance he’s misinterpreting things, “yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And who would that be?” Steve asks, leaning in even closer until he feels Eddie’s small puffs of breath across his face. 

“You,” Eddie whispers but Steve hears it clearly. 

He takes a moment to bask in it, to let it wash over him before he responds.

“That’s good,” Steve tells him eventually and Eddie’s eyes are so wide and open, and so pretty, “because I dreamt of you.” 

He knows it’s cheesy so he doesn’t give Eddie time to respond, just leans in and closes the remaining gap between them. Slots their lips together. Eddie gasps into the kiss, grabs Steve by the hair, and pulls him in. Makes all these cute noises that make Steve want and want and want. 

He shifts, goes to put his leg in between Eddie’s to move on top of him and get a better angle. But he only gets halfway before Eddie grabs his hips and twists them around. Pushes Steve flat on his back and straddles him. 

He grins down at Steve. 

“You think the Scandinavian magic worked or was it just dream psychology and wishful thinking?” 

“Does it matter?” Steve asks, way too earnestly. But like, they’ve just spent this whole time doing some true love magic so he thinks it’s fine, “got what I wanted.” 

“It’s forever though,” Eddie points out, bending down to bite at Steve’s jaw, “if we believe the old Norse people.” 

Steve hears the question there, thinks this might be Eddie’s way of asking what this means to Steve. His way of telling Steve this isn’t just a hookup for him.

“God yeah,” Steve exhales, “I fucking hope so.” 

He feels Eddie smile into his neck and grabs his hair, uses it to pull him back and steer him into another kiss. 

[kaffkanya]

i may be cornplating this but. i was thinking. i usually go by the man and the companion monolog thinking spock is the companion and jim is the man. you know, the obvious route. but i was wondering, since the monolog is said by jim, what if he sees himself as the companion?

lets break this down.

"You are the Companion. He is the man."

we will be back to this in a second. hold on.

"You are two different things. You can't join."

if i were to compare the companion to spock, that simply isnt true. spock is the one who can (quite literally) join, through his psychic abilities and whatnot. jim, however, cant. and he wont ever fully understand the importance of the meld, of being bonded to someone, because its not something he can do to others. others do to him.

"You can't... love."

i see how people can relate this to spock, specially with that one bones "because its not written in your book" monolog or whatever. BUT! between jim and spock, spocks sparse romance plots are way more emotional than jims (at least thats how i see it for now!). i hvnt watched tos s3 yet, but up until end of s2, jims most emotionally heavy romance was with edith. which, much like the others, didnt work out.

"You may keep him here forever... but you will always be separate. Apart from him."

again, jims the one who cant truly join spock like a vulcan would. he barely speaks the language. he gives and gives himself to and for spock, but hes always going to be too human, too emotional, too illogical, too much. he may keep spock forever, but he wont ever reach that one part of him.

you know past lives? that one quote "you dream in a language that i cant understand". yeah. kind of this.

now,

"You are the Companion. He is the man."

i might be reaching and projecting my own comphet on this. but, hey. what is art even for if not to relate to our own feelings and whatnot.

so! what gets me here is the semantics of it all. its the use of man instead of human and right before (or after, i dont remember) an extremely cisnormative and heteronormative dialogue line from jim himself. now, i know its cause it was the 60s, but the character said it, and im choosing to interpret the line with different lenses.

you are the companion (never a lover, never something beyond the platonic friendship realm. its someone you cant/shouldnt feel attracted to. its someone who wont be attracted to you, because of who you are) and he is the man (something you cant love, for youre not a woman*)

*following kirks own line of thinking here.

my conclusion is that jim is suffering from a severe case of heteronormative thinking and comphet, cant wait for him to find out about bisexuality and that he can be a girl too if he so desire!!!

anyway

[everylastbird]

I've been thinking of a soulmates style au wherein hualian discover they are soulmates after XL saves HC as a child.

In this AU meeting your soulmate is incredibly rare and very auspicious, so even though HC is a commoner he is recognized as XL's future spouse and taken into the care of the royal family, but sequestered away from XL to maintain decorum. They see each other now and again, and interact during events and gatherings, but otherwise are kept separated. HC is delighted and pines and generally dreams of the day he gets to officially marry XL and be his wife.

(I like to personally use the term 'wife' in danmei specifically to mean 'the spouse that marries into the home of the other', so as he is marrying into XL's home, he would be the bride in this scenario.)

XL ascends, as in canon. Unlike in canon, when a soulmate ascends, so too does your soulmate, and HC ascends with XL.

XL also descends and falls from godhood, as in canon. Ever so magnanimous, JW ~kindly~ allows HC to stay in heaven upon XL's request, as HC didn't break any rules. HC is, however, bound to the heavens, unable to descend to seek out XL.

Centuries pass, and HC becomes known as a God of constancy, faithfulness, and marriage. He is regarded with both awe and pity. Poor HC, who remains loyal to a faithless god of misfortune. Isn't it incredible, how much he is willing and able to endure to uphold the sanctity of his marriage vows? He has a large faction of worshippers, mostly brides and wives in arranged, unhappy marriages, who pray to him for strength.

Few, if any, remember that Xianle fell before HC had the chance to marry XL. That all this time he has remained steadfast and true to his fiancé, rather than his husband. The gods that do look upon him with scorn and judgment. No one expects him to remain loyal to the likes of XL, so who does he think he is putting on this show for?

It doesn't matter what those gods, or even what his worshippers think of him, however. HC is loyal to XL out of love, and devotion. He is not suffering out of obligation. His only pain is that felt by his fiancé, and the pain of separation forced upon him.

And despite what the gods and his worshippers assume, he is not a long-suffering bride who sits and pines for his beloved. While he yearns for the day he can reunite with XL, HC spends his time playing the long-con. After all, is the keeping of house and home not one of the primary roles of any good wife? And the heavens are so steeped in filth. Certainly not worthy of his husband to be.

As for XL, he strives and toils to regain his godhood under the weight of his lost worshippers and the scorn of the gods who once praised him.

More than that, he worries, often, about HC, and his misplaced loyalty. Every now and then XL hears another tale of HC's endless, unshakeable loyalty, but with those tales also come stories of that devotion being nothing more than a shackle. Nothing is ever said of HC's love for his husband, or HC's happiness, only his impressive endurance in the face of obligation to a worthless husband. XL fears that HC is little more than a long suffering would-be bride, held back by XL's mistakes and the fate that bound them together without either of their say.

So XL does his best to regain his godhood, so that he may re-enter heaven and finally free HC from himself for good.

When, after 800 years, XL finally ascends once again, nothing is as he had expected it to be. There is a crowd, but no one is casting judgment or disparaging him. Instead, it seems as though he has ascended amidst the start of a lavish celebration.

As XL stands amidst a sea of joyful revelry, a procession slowly makes its way towards him, and at its end, a bridal sedan.

When the sedan stops before him and a hand moves aside its curtain, XL reaches out to grasp it without thinking. Gently, he leads the bride off of the sedan and onto solid ground.

XL looks up at a veil of opaque crimson silk. He cannot see the face behind it, does not even know, after all this time, what HC would even look like... But in this moment he knows, unquestionably, that this is not just any bride, but his bride.

Part of XL recalls that one of his main reasons to rise to godhood again was to let HC go, to finally allow him freedom from the weight of being tethered to someone like XL. And yet, any thoughts of breaking his vows to HC dry up in his mouth. He has thought of so many ways to say it, so many ways to cut HC loose of him without bringing HC any more pain, but he cannot bring himself to say any of them.

The hand in his grasp turns, and laces their fingers together. His bride's hand is strong, XL observes as though from a distance, unflinching and sure.

"Hello, gege," HC says. His voice is deeper than XL remembers, richer and more vibrant than anything he has experienced for decades, if not centuries. 

"Ah, San Lang, I'm sorry, " he manages to force out through his shock. His laugh is pitchy and uneven even to his own ears. "I'm afraid I'm not quite prepared...!"

"It's okay, gege." A thumb carasses his knuckles tenderly, and XL's throat tightens. "I already have everything ready for us."

[elrielffs]

So I've been ruminating on mate bonds in the ACOTAR universe today--about why a section of this fandom seems to revere the mate bond in general and assume a partner in the mate bond cannot be happy without the other.

And I was thinking of the different mate bonds we've been shown and what we've been told--

The blueprint obviously being Feysand.

I think a lot of fandom hold up Feysand as the standard--but to me, Feysand is the EXCEPTION. From what we are told in the books about mate bonds--the good, the bad, and the ugly--that mate bonds can be rejected, that sometimes the bond chooses poorly, that maybe it is just a way to make powerful offspring rather than the true coming together of souls-- the bond is not something guarantees a happily ever after and even in some cases--is a detriment.

So far in story, about 50/50 of the bonds we've been told about/seen have landed on the "good" vs "bad" side. Even in Prythian culture, they seem to move without giving the bond a thought until it happens--people marry, make alliances, have lovers without the mate bond. Sure it's mostly because it's rare but I can't help but think that it's also because even if you find your mate--it's not a guarantee perfect match.

And I think we can say that the ones we have seen, even the "good", are not comparable to Feysand. Love them or hate them, there is something so prevailing about their romance that, to get meta, is the reason I think ACOTAR is SJM's most popular work even though many agree that TOG is better written, it's why you hardly ever see Rhysand or Feyre shipped with anyone else--their romance was written so beautiful, so exceptionally, that it resonated with a lot of readers as an ultimate love story, certainly THE ultimate love story that SJM has written and propelled her to the status she has now.

Even Cassian, who is centuries old and has probably seen mates before, thinks that the whole mate thing is "bullshit" till he saw Feysand's bond.

Let's compare to Nessian. Now see, I think Nessian is more the standard mate bond. They are drawn to each other, they love each other, they choose each other -- but can we really say that their bond is comparable to Feysand? You have a huge chunk of this fandom that says Nesta should leave Cassian for Eris and that Cassian deserves better and I hardly see anyone laud their romance in ACOSF as their favorite part of the book--that's normally reserved for the Valkyrie friendship.

Let's even look at the Death Pact Feysand made. It doesn't matter if you think it's stupid or not--it fully comes across in character that Feyre and Rhysand wouldn't want to live without the other. Now, Nesta and Cassian? I definitely think that they would be distraught, broken--but do they really give the vibes that they would just die without the other? I don't even think Nessian would ever make that pact, or at least that's the vibes that their romance gives off.

Even Kallias and Vivianne, a "good" mate bond--what little we see of them--don't give off the same vibes. Kallias didn't make Vivianne High Lady, even after Vivianne expressed the desire and seeing in the Night Court it can be done.

And that brings me to Elucien. Eluciens say neither Elain nor Lucien can be happy without the other but I feel like that's because they are comparing it to Feysand instead of Nessian.

But we can see even in comparison they are not similiar.

When Feyre was with Tamlin, Rhysand was willing to let her be with another male if that's what she wanted. He was not however, willing to let her waste into nothing after what happened UTM. He used that pact that he had did not call on before Feyre was begging to be saved from the wedding, to get Feyre to safe place where she could heal and deal with her issues.

Lucien on the other hand only offered suggestions when Elain was physically wasting away. "She needs sunlight," which is a generic piece of advice but did he actually make it happen? No. And yes, it can be argued it was because Elain didn't want him around but we are told that Lucien is cunning. You're telling me he couldn't come up with something--some action, some plan-- to physically help Elain? Like Rhysand did? Even if he wasn't directly involved in taking Elain to the garden, he couldn't even find some way to directly make it happen?

Rhysand would never mumble to Tamlin to take Feyre out into the garden and then just...wait and see?

All this rambling to conclude, that yes, if every mate bond could be held up to the standard of Feysand, I think I could understand why a large portion of the fandom says mates have to be together, that that's the only way they can be happy, heal, become their best selves etc but once again, I think Feysand is the exception. Mate bonds like theirs are the true rarity and I don't think we've seen it comparably to any other romance or mate bond that SJM has written.

This is all just my two cents so take it as you will but thanks for reading it all if you got this far.

[morselmint]

Prayers

1. To Artemis

Khaire, Artemis!

Goddess of many names!

You take pride

In roaming the forests

Rarely visiting divine Olympus.

Your illustrious mother

And loyal Nymphai

Stand beside you

As you hunt on mountain hills.

O, bright goddess of the moon,

You push people to nature.

If my offerings were sweet to you,

Pull me closer to divine

And ground me in your domain.

Please keep my mind sharp

Like your deadly arrows.

Thank you, for being with me always.

I shall forever praise you.

Prayer to Lady Artemis. Written by me. Shared with her approval. Hope that this will help and/or inspire someone <3

[starstruckodysseys]

toya and mizuki’s step by step guide to romancing a shinonome

“Akiyama, I’m not sure that romancing is a word.”

“Yeah, well, we’re also not in the 16th century, either. Who the hell says wooing anymore?”

(a journey in love languages, making a fool of yourself, overthinking your every move, and friendship born out of solidarity.)

read here on ao3

[aro-in-danyl]

Sinners Become Human | Hazbin Hotel AU

Concept: For one week every month, the sinners of hell take on their human forms and all the good and bad that comes with it.

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Once The Extermination is postponed till further notice, Charlie and Emily work to get sinners interested in redemption.

Unfortunately, they are unsuccessful and they have no idea how to convince sinners to take a chance and better themselves to get into Heaven.

The former humans (Angel, Husk, Alastor, Niffty) at the Hotel attempt to cheer her up by explaining human nature and how Hell and their demonic forms only exacerbate the disconnect from their humanity and make it more difficult to want to do good things.

And that gives her an idea. She can't change Hell itself (yet) when no one will work with her but she CAN bridge the gap...

In place of the Extermination, sinner demons will take on their human forms one week in every month. They will have no access to their powers, deals, or contracts during this duration.

And if you're killed as a human, you can't respawn until the week is over.

Sera and Lucifer are forced to work together once Emily & Charlie enthusiastically propose the idea. And sinners all over Hell wonder what fresh torture this is and if they should consider Heaven just to escape this bullshit.

An exploration of morality, community, perseverance, and what it means to be human. Exploring the concept of dehumanization and how sinners unintentionally view themselves and their fellow demons as less than human because of their demonic forms.

[volkswagonblues]

iwtv armand/daniel time loop idea

had this idea for an Interview with the Vampire time loop fic where armand repeats the last day of the Dubai interview over and over again. The first time around he obviously "wins" because he reads Daniel + Real Rashid's minds and prevents them from producing the damning evidence of the script (and preventing Louis from learning the truth). But then Armand wakes up the next sunset and everything resets.

Then Armand starts repeating the day again and again. He tries killing Daniel. Killing Louis. Killing real Rashid. Killing himself. Confessing everything. Confessing nothing. Abandoning the penthouse and just flying to Italy or Spain or England. Abandoning the penthouse and taking Daniel with him. And then eventually Daniel starts retaining some memory of the loops, and he's like "why do i keep getting flashebacks of the two of us in european cities, which clearly have never happened" and Armand's like "well, i truly hate you for my divorce, but let me just tell you because who the fuck cares anymore." And then the day resets. But from there on he keeps telling Daniel about what's happening, and then Daniel starts resisting the time loop reset, and then they....fall...in love...

ANYWAYS Armand and Daniel stumble into the only way to escape the time loop by letting this scenario play out--let Louis discover the truth, let Rashid escape, turn Daniel (ie. the canon ending). But now Daniel is out of the time loop and he has NO MEMORY of the YEARS they've spent together. And Armand has no way to restore it because it's a time loop scenario, not a mind wipe scenario. So in a panic Armand disappears for the next two years and leaves vampire-Daniel baffled like, "i literally don't understand why you broke your 500 year old vow and turned me??"

And then it becomes an unintentional devil's minion amnesia plot. And that's all I got guys

[luvsdive]

omg pls write a non con fic for twice 🙏🙏

I loved your bratty nayeon fic so much 💞

WARNING: NONCON

well what would you like me to write about? maybe a dancing teacher who punishes tzuyu in the middle of the rehearsal room after noticing how she's been slacking on her dancing, completely disregarding the other twice girls, slack jawed and wide eyed, watching as you hold a fistfull of tzuyu's hair and force her face against the mirrored wall. pulling her sports bra down to reveal her tits, groping them with your free hand, pinching and pulling on the nipples harshly. baby tzuyu already with tears in her eyes, please don't do this, i promise i'll work harder! everyone is looking, please stop! begging as you lay a heavy smack on her ass, earning yourself a whined gasp from her pouty lips, as well as her members hushed whispers. i don't care that everyone is looking, this is what you get for being a lazy slut, is your only response other than aggressively yanking down of her gym shorts and panties alltogether, bearing her naked cunt to the air conditioned room, already growing uncomfortably wetter with each passing moment. tzuyu feels guilty and gross for being aroused by all of this, but she doesn't know how to stop you, doesn't even know if she wants you to stop. but there's no time to ponder, no preamble, just two fingers roughly shoved inside her, an intrusion that makes her squeal with fright and the stinging sensation of being forcefully taken against her will. there are fat droplets of tears dripping down her face and everytime she tries to turn her gaze away from the reflection of her unnies watching her in astonishment, you only yank her head back into place by the grip on her hair. look at them, you order, adding a third finger into her cunt and watching as her knees buckle, the only thing keeping the maknae standing being your grip on her locks. let them see what will happen if i catch any of you slacking in practice again. and tzuyu can feel herself getting closer and closer to an orgasm, your fingers sliding with increasing ease inside her as she grows wetter by the second, your movements starting to make lewd sounds that seem to reverberate all throughout the quiet practice room, her sniffles turning into short little moans as you speed your movements even further, and even without any stimulation to her clit, tzuyu can feel her toes clenching and the pressure building in her lower tummy that signals she's about to hit her peak, the orgasm so close that a high pitched moan finally escapes her now open lips... and then nothing. the fingers get roughly pulled out from inside her cunt and the rough grip on her hair that's kept her up for the past few minutes all disappear, and she drops to the ground in an ungraceful heap, an undignified and nonsensical whine as her orgasm gets ripped away from her. you crouch down to her level, grabbing her face with your hand, fingers still wet with tzuyu's juices squeezing her own cheeks, leaked arousal mixed with the tears on her skin, before a heavy smack across her face gets her out of her aroused stupor with a gasp. get up and get back to rehearsal, you order, not even lending a hand as the young girl struggles to find her footing, a humiliated flush across her skin as she tries to tug her sports bra back into place, purposefully looking away from her members as she stumbles her way back into formation. and don't let me see you giving anything less than 100%, alright? you barely spare her a glance, grabbing your phone to turn the music back on. tzuyu bites down on her lower lip, struggling to swallow her tears. yes, ma'am. is the only reply she's able to sob out loud. good girl, hope you've learned your lesson.

[hellaverse-critical-confessions]

(from this video)

[partybarty]

Me at work today: They don't even know that the WBBL has started for the year.