#bc they’re husbands your honor

[poisonghoull]

“as much as I love buddie, yeah I think I’d be okay with tevan endgame!”

*reads teven text post without any mention of eddie*

“yeah I think I was wrong”

[butteryunlikelylady]

I don’t want someone who just wants anybody. I want someone who’s been looking and waiting for ME.

[thehighladywrites]

THIS ISN’T GOODBYE, THIS IS SIMPLY SEE YOU LATER…

⋆˙⟡ pairing: ex husband/baby daddy rhysand x fem reader

⋆˙⟡ summary: people who love each other will always find their way back. you and rhys divorced a few years ago, but you will always love each other

⋆˙⟡ warnings: 18+, mdni light angst, hurt to comfort, fluff, smut, violent behavior (not rhysand), misogyny, they’re in love your honor😔

⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m a little iffy about this bc i feel like it could be better but i hope you love it. The smut isn’t really that smutty, it’s more fluffy. Please, let me know what you think; leave a comment😌💗 also english isn’t my first language so if something doesn’t make sense, ignore💀 ALSO LISTEN TO CEILINGS BY LIZZY WHEN YOU GET TO THE RUNNING SCENE PLS IT’S GONNA MAKE SO MUCH SENSE (i hope)

Getting back into the dating scene after your divorce felt strange. Unbeknownst to you, you found yourself unconsciously comparing every man to Rhys, nitpicking on their behavior. Seated at a beautiful restaurant with a guy quite different from your usual choices, things seemed promising until he gave you some backhanded compliments.

“You say you're a doctor? You?” His words grated on your nerves, and you couldn't fathom why he was so shocked.

“Yes, I am. Is that surprising to you?” you retorted.

He chuckled nervously and shook his head. “No, no. I just pegged you for a nurse or something. You know, something more feminine.”

Your hopes deflated. Turns out, this guy wasn't different at all—he was just like every pompous and misogynistic man out there.

Keeping your cool, you fire back with a smirk,

“Is this coming from the person who just told me they bake for a living? I pegged your for a construction worker, you know, something more masculine.” With a smile you excuse yourself from the table, leaving him puzzled and perhaps questioning his outdated assumptions. Your departure left him to contemplate his lacking dinner date skills.

In the search for someone matching the love you'd known, you found yourself in a loop of comparing every date to Rhys. You shook your head, realizing you needed to stop this habit and maybe, just maybe, find happiness beyond those high standards.

With a dramatic exhale, you frowned, blaming Rhys for your lousy love life. After all, he had treated you like a goddess, setting extremely untouchable standards.

—

As if the mother herself had heard your wish, you finally met a somewhat decent man who wasn’t giving you any backhanded compliment or was making you feel uncomfortable. Although he was somewhat nice he was a little bland and not something you would typically go for. He was very nice with your daughters but could have a temper.

But beggars can’t be choosers right?

With utmost tenderness, you approached the conversation with your twin daughters, explaining the new man in your life. In soft words, you explained that mommy and daddy weren't together anymore, framing it as a journey of finding happiness even though you deep down weren’t feeling the happiness you portrayed. You emphasized the still-there love between you and their father, assuring them that sometimes people are just better off as friends.

Even though the news initially saddened them, your gentle touch in explaining the complexities of grown-up emotions, coupled with the warmth of your smile, melted their worries away. As they saw the happiness radiating from you, your daughters embraced the idea, understanding that your heart always carried love for them and their father.

Little did you know that your mischievous baby girls spilled the news to Rhysand, sharing every detail about the man you were seeing, your dates, and even telling him that you still loved Daddy. However, being the little dramatists they were, they exaggerated, making it seem like you were head over heels for him.

Despite almost three years of separation and the seemingly agreement to divorce, the twins' confession ignited a flame of jealousy in Rhysand. The mere thought of you going on dates and being entertained by other men stirred an irrational desire within him to claim you as his own. Witnessing other males treating you and touching you made him feel absolutely murderous.

He hates that you’re not together anymore, hates that you don’t wear your wedding ring even tho he wears his, he hates that he’s not by your side. But most of all he hates himself for ever letting your marriage break apart.

Rhys had attempted countless times to mend what was once whole, to win you back and rebuild what had crumbled. However, you always hesitantly turned him down, insisting that you couldn't put each other through that hurt again.

The fact that the girls spoke so highly of the man you were dating only fueled Rhysand's jealousy and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes dramatically. “Oh, he’s so nice, took us out for ice cream and we went to the theater,” they gushed. He couldn't shake the feeling that it should've been him – watching plays with you and your daughters, taking them out for ice cream together. The longing for the life he once had with you remained a persistent ache in his heart.

Of course he doesn’t let it go the next time you come around to drop off the girls

The joyful echoes of your daughters filled Rhysand's new and massive mansion, quickly greeting their father and saying goodbye before dashing inside, leaving you and Rhysand alone. Observing them run to the living room, playing with their new toys, you couldn't help but smile. With their father's violet eyes and dark hair, they were practically clones of Rhysand.

Caught in the moment, you looked up at Rhysand, finding his captivating eyes already fixed on you.

Fuck.

The intensity of his gaze almost made you forget the dinner plans with your boyfriend.

“I heard you were seeing someone,” he remarked, and you froze, feeling an unexpected twinge of embarrassment. It wasn't supposed to be a secret; you just weren't ready to share it yet. Trying to save face, you swallowed back any stutter and inquired,

“Who told you that?”

“My daughters told me all about him.”

That’s what you get for trusting 6 year olds. Your attempt at secrecy shattered, and you found yourself apologizing,

“Ah, sorry for not telling you about it; it's all very new, but the kids seem to like him. And I promise he wouldn’t be around them if i didn’t trust him.”

Rhysand's jaw ticked in frustration. Well, wasn't that just fucking great? Your daughters not only liked but loved the guy, and here you were, agreeing with them.

“So, you two hit it off. How marvelous.”

You sighed and looked away,

“Please, just don’t.”

Silence hung in the air as you both stood there, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. Breaking the silence, you sighed, signaling your readiness to leave your old house.

“Okay then, I'll be leaving now. I'll come pick them up later tonight. Thanks for watching them tonight, I know it was last minute. But, um, actually, can I pick them up tomorrow instead?” you asked, and Rhysand felt a flicker of suspicion, silently praying he was wrong.

“ I thought we agreed on tonight. Do you have other plans?” he inquired, hoping for a straightforward answer.

Your face flushed red as you considered explaining the evening's plans, but it felt wrong to share such details with Rhys. Opting for a lie, you hoped he wouldn't catch on.

“Oh, yeah, I've got some things I need to do at the hospital tonight. You know, just some reports on a few patients. Nothing major, but I might be a bit... worn out tonight, and that's why I need to pick them up tomorrow.”

The half-truth hung in the air, and Rhysand's suspicions lingered, creating a subtle tension in the farewell.

“So this has nothing to do with you going on a date with your little friend? Sorry, boyfriend.”

Before you could respond, Rhysand stepped closer, closing the gap until there was almost no room between you. You backed away slowly until your back hit the front door. His towering presence made you look up at him, a shiver running down your spine. Tilting his head, he approached your ear, and the soft words he spoke, combined with the warm breath on your skin, sent a wave of heat through your body.

“It should be us, love. Please come back to me,” he murmured, and your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the proximity. As his hands came around your waist, turning you around so your back rested against his sturdy chest, it became impossible to leave the embrace of his warmth. Deep down, a part of you didn't want to escape the intoxicating sense of his presence.

He pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms around your middle as his calm heartbeat pounds against your back, his words confessing a truth that breaks your heart twice.

Once, because the vision he paints sounds so ideal – the two of you getting back together, going on dates, playing with your daughters, being a whole family again. It's the life you had once dreamed of, the life you wanted with the man you spent centuries with, the father of your kids, your greatest love.

The second break comes with the painful reminder of why you found yourself in this mess in the first place. Rhysand had been too consumed by his work, constantly holed up in his office, neglecting the precious time with you and your daughters. Despite understanding the importance of his duties, you couldn't help feeling the sting of neglect. It reached a breaking point when your girls tearfully asked for their daddy every night, only to find he wasn't there.

Realizing the toll this dynamic took on your family's well-being, you made the difficult decision to part ways. Telling Rhys that you weren't good for each other at the moment, you emphasized the need for him to work on himself and find a balance between work and family.

As you gather the strength to move out of his grip, facing him becomes the hardest task.

Turning around to meet his gaze, his face reveals the devastation within. His once vibrant features now wear a sad and empty color. You utter words that add another layer to the heartbreak,

“Rhys, please, you know we can't. Someday but not now.”

His eyes gloss over as he whispers,

“Fate was not in our favor, my dear. But I swear on everything I have, I will do my best to earn you back.”

Tears well up as he kisses your forehead, whispering promises of finding a way back to you.

The weight of the unspoken goodbye lingers, and you walk away, hoping that time and healing would pave a path for the future you both yearned for.

Because you did want to be with him, you really fucking did, and you cried the whole way home. Rhys had given you the town house while he lived in the River estate. The tears flowed even more freely as you sat in your empty and silent house.

Each sob intensified as you went to your cold and empty bed, the very one that used to cradle him in – your husband, your heart. The ache of the empty space beside you was a painful reminder of the love that once filled those sheets, now replaced by solitude and the haunting echo of what had been lost.

—

Your puffy eyes opened slowly, abruptly yanked from a deep slumber by the pounding on your door. Glancing at the clock on your desk, the numbers 1:46 glared back at you – who the hell could it be at this hour? Irritated, you stumbled to the door, ready to chew out whoever dared disturb your sleep.

The door slammed open, revealing Sam standing there, visibly upset. Your still-sleepy brain failed to connect the dots fast enough, and it took a moment to register that you were supposed to be on a date with him tonight. The realization dawned, and you found yourself caught in the awkward aftermath of a missed arrangement, facing Sam with both confusion and exhaustion etched on your face.

“Where the hell have you been? I have been waiting for hours,” he exclaimed, his worried and angry eyes searching yours.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, you pulled him in by his hands, urging him to come inside. Apologizing over and over, you hugged him tightly, saying that you fell asleep over and over until he forgave you.

A part of you knew you did it to calm his potentially violent reaction.

“At least your alive. Next time, let me know so I don't look like a fucking idiot,” he said, his comment irking you despite understanding where he was coming from.

Stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around Sam's neck, pulling him into a distracting kiss that escalated quickly.

Before he could say anything more about the situation and grow even more angry you kissed him again, trying to shift his focus elsewhere, which was easy. He lifted you and walked you toward the bed, the same one you had shared with Rhys.

Suddenly, a wave of panic hit you at the thought of another male's scent mixing with Rhysand's. With huffed breath and panicked words, you interrupted the moment, “No, not the bed. Let's just use the couch instead.”

Your urgency left no room for argument as you pulled him toward the living room, desperate to avoid a mix of past and present that could overwhelm you with regret.

—

The birds chirping outside stirred you from your sleep as you stretched in your soft bed. Morning got here quicker than you thought. However, the warmth you felt next to you wasn't just the morning sun – it was Sam. Your eyes opened, facing the clock, you saw it was very early in the morning, 3:57. The memories of the previous hours hit you like a brick. A bigger realization followed – Sam's scent now filled the air, replacing the familiar citrusy aroma that had been your husband’s for centuries.

This revelation overwhelmed you, making you want to throw up as tears welled up as panic set in. Crying over this felt foolish, considering your separation from Rhys, but it made everything feel permanent and official, like there was no turning back. The chance to reconcile seemed lost.

As you stood up, the room spun with regret, and you slithered to the bathroom. The sight that greeted you made your stomach churn – bruises covered your neck, arms, and legs. Your hair was a mess, and your lips were swollen. More tears fell as regret, deep sorrow, and the weight of your choices consumed you.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It wasn't supposed to be like this at all.

In your panicked state, you stepped into the shower, hoping to wash away not only the physical remnants of the night but also the emotional burden that clung to your every step.

The steaming shower brought no comfort, and as you shut it off and walked up to the mirror, wiping away steam, you saw a hollowness in your own eyes. The water didn't wash away the feel of Sam's hands on you. But you knew you could drink a tonic for the bruises, so you could atleast pretend it never happened.

Frustrated and heartbroken, you couldn't stop the tears from flowing. The one person you needed the most, Rhys, felt impossibly distant, intensifying the ache inside you.

Desperation took over, and wiping away tears, you threw on a robe, downed the healing tonic and quickly ran over to his house. Each step carried regret and a deep yearning to fix what had gone wrong.

Your Rhys, the father of your children, yours.

He was what you needed in the moment, he’d make it all better.

In the midst of irrationality and impulsivity, you could not find it in you to care about the consequences. All you needed was him.

You burst into his estate, slamming open the doors before frantically searching for him.

“Rhys?”

Your attempt at a yell came out as an ugly cry, tear-stained and choked.

Yet, it was enough to grab his attention.

Rhysand descended the stairs, clad only in pants, his trademark messy bedhead on display as worry etched across his face.

It was so unlike you, and it had him speculating the worst.

Before he could ask you any questions, you ran up to him and broke down in his arms. Rhysand immediately comforted you, picking you up, and hauling you upstairs to his bedroom.

No words were needed as he undressed your sobbing form and put you in his shirt before pulling you closer to him, making you sit in his lap.

Your face buried in his neck, tears dampening his skin. Rhysand, familiar with your ways, sensed you’d open up when ready. He sat, holding you, flooding your mind with love and reassurance without a single word.

Rhysand conjured a glass of water, holding it to your lips, ensuring you didn't exert yourself. As you downed the refreshing water, he gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering by your neck. His thumb traced soothing circles on your cheek, a silent gesture of comfort.

“Thank you, Rhysie. M’sorry for showing up like this but I just needed you.”

His gaze intensified, his grip firm yet reassuring as he held your chin, locking eyes with you. With a seriousness that touched deeply, he spoke, his words carrying a sense of unwavering commitment.

“You don’t apologize for it. I’m here for you, no matter what. Do you understand?”

You nod, throat closing up at the wave of emotions,

“I understand.”

He leans forward, kissing your forhead while cradling your head,

“Good girl. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

With teary eyes you look up to him and reveal what’s on your mind.

“I want us back together again. We belong together and I’m tired of pretending we don’t. I miss you so much. You’ve been working on yourself and I’ve been doing the same. I know we’re ready.”

Rhysand remained silent, his eyes studying you carefully. He sensed an emotional storm within you and was hesitant about decisions made in this state.

“I do not disagree. Reuniting our family, especially getting you back, my sweet girl, is my ultimate desire. But, I want you to sleep on it. I want us to discuss this when we're well-rested and more alert. What do you say?”

You knew you were being rash and quick, so you were thankful for Rhysand's guidance. You nodded in agreement.

He kissed your cheek and gently placed you under the sheets, joining you in bed. Rhysand pulled you closer, and soon you were resting on his chest, listening to the steady thudding of his heart.

“I’ve always loved you, Rhys, so much. I hope you know that.”

His heartbeat quickened as he pulled you even closer.

“I know, sweetheart. I love you too.”

—

The chirping birds and soft sunlight streaming through the window woke you up gently. Your body felt completely relaxed and at ease, knowing you were safe and sound. Stretching lazily, you sighed in contentment before rolling over in bed.

You felt the warmth of something next to you, so you snuggled closer, enjoying the comfort. After a few moments, you felt it stir.

The moving object was Rhysand. Your eyes widened, and for a moment, you almost scrambled away in panic before the events of this early morning flooded back to you.

Despite the fact that you had left your boyfriend alone in your house and now found yourself in your ex's bed, cuddled up to him, you didn't feel any panic. Instead, you felt indifferent. You felt surprisingly good, even better than before. You felt right. Like everything was in it’s place.

“Don't panic,” Rhysand murmured softly, reaching out to gently stroke your back. “We need to have that talk, darling.”

Nodding silently, you agreed to follow him downstairs, your mind racing.

You couldn't help but melt around him. There was no need to even use your brain around him. Rhys made everything feel delightful as he began fussing over you. He did everything from dressing you in the cutest outfits to gently brushing your hair. With his big, warm, comforting hands, he led you downstairs, making every step feel like a new chapter starting.

Once in the kitchen, Rhysand set to work, expertly whipping up breakfast as you watched him, a knot of anticipation forming in your stomach. You knew this conversation was important, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort as you observed his familiar movements in the kitchen.

You couldn't help but admire Rhysand as he moved around the kitchen, his muscles flexing with every movement. He had a newfound confidence about him, a certain dad-like aura that only added to his appeal. His masculine energy was buzzing, and combined with his good looks, it was hard not to be drawn to him. Rhys had grown impossibly more majestic and stunningly handsome in the years you were seperated.

Rhysand caught you staring, and a playful smirk tugged at his lips. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive. The heat rose to your cheeks as you quickly looked away, unable to hide your blush.

“Maybe I do,” you whisper teasingly, a hint of mischief in your voice.

“Careful,” he warns with a playful glint in his eyes, matching your flirtatious tone.

As he handed you a plate filled with nostalgic food, you couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. He had even removed the bits you didn’t like, showing that he remembered even the smallest details about you. It warmed your heart to know that he still cared so deeply.

After you finished eating, he cleared his throat with a serious yet excited tone and said, “Let's talk.”

With a nod, you accept and he extends his hand, guiding you to a cozy sitting room.

“Where are the twins?” you ask, curious when you don’t hear or see your daughters.

“They’re with Cassian and Nesta. They came and picked them up earlier this morning,” he responds.

You nod again, then sit down on the cushy couch next to him.

“Rhys, I’ve thought about it for a while, and I think yesterday just cemented it for me. I think I’m ready for us again, and I’ve missed us together. What do you think? I mean, do you want me too?”

He flashed you his most sincere and hidden smile he only showed you and grabbed your chin with his pointer and thumb

“Sweetheart, I’ve missed you more than words can express. Of course, I want us to be together again. You are my everything and I will never again risk you.”

He took a deep breath and looked down, his voice filled with remorse.

“I've hated myself for letting you go so easily. I wasn't there for you or the girls, and it will always be my biggest regret. I vow to never again disappoint you and to do everything in my power to earn back your trust in my presence. Please forgive me.”

As the faint burn of the promising bargain tattoo emerges on both his and your wrists, a soft smile graces your lips. With gentle assurance, you reach out and place your hand on his, your touch offering comfort and calmness.

“Rhys, I forgive,” you say sweetly and hopeful. “I've missed you, and I want us to be together again. Let's leave the past behind us and focus on building a future together, okay?”

Feeling his arms around you, you melt into the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. His touch is comforting, and you revel in the warmth of his warmth. As he gently squeezes your waist, you giggle, feeling a sense of joy wash over you.

He attacked your cheek with kisses, making him land on top of you on the couch as your back rested on the seats.

“But I think we should take it slow. Maybe start off by going on dates.”

He pulls back and looks at you, his gaze intense yet tender. “Yes. Let's take it slow. We have all the time in the world, no need to rush.”

You both sit there, locked in a silent exchange, the air thick with anticipation as you inch closer to each other.

“We definitely shouldn't kiss, right?” you ask, feeling the heat of his breath mingling with yours.

His arms tighten around you as he speaks softly, his words grazing your lips. “We shouldn't.”

The moment your lips touch, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It's been so long since you felt the familiar warmth of his kisses, the feeling of home in his embrace. Rhysand, your darling, the love of your life—you've missed him more than words can express.

As the kisses grow more messy and desperate, a soft whimper escapes your lips, causing his eyes to darken with desire.

A sudden panic washed over you at the thought of your now ex-boyfriend waking up to find you gone.

“Rhys, I have to go back and end things with Sam,” you blurted out, your voice raspy and flustered between kisses.

Rhys's expression darkened as he heard about your ex-boyfriend.

“I'll handle it,” he declared, determination lacing his voice.

“What does that mean?” you pressed, curious and a little concerned.

He responded with a secretive smile, kissing you again, his touch making you melt into him.

“Don’t worry your little head about it. I got it covered,” he assured, his tone confident and reassuring.

So you let it go. If he said he had it handled, then you trusted him to take care of it.

His assurance left you feeling cared for, sparking a desire for more. More of him, and more of that comforting reassurance he provided.

Before you could voice your need for him, he beat you to it. With a tender kiss on your forehead, he spoke softly.

“I’m going to take you upstairs and make up for lost time. But before we start, I’m going to feed you a little bit more. Don’t argue, you’re going to need the energy.”

Your mind went blank, slipping into a submissive state, ready to follow his lead without question.

With a nod, you rose from your seat, arms outstretched in silent compliance.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms. With each step towards the kitchen, his gentle strokes on your hair and whispered promises of what lay ahead sent shivers down your spine, heightening the anticipation of what was to come.

After quickly eating the food he conjured up, you stood up in a rush and grabbed his hand, urging him to take you upstairs right away.

He chuckled and scooped you up, showering kisses on your lips and neck as he carried you upstairs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his middle.

Your nails dig into his scalp, head thrown back as you whimper with pleasure. Your toes curl as his teeth graze against a sensitive spot, his smirk growing against your skin.

“Tell me, darling. How do you want it today?”

You're only aware that you're inside the bedroom when he sets you down in front of the bed.

You know exactly how you want it. You want him to take charge, dominating your every move, just like he used to. Rhys knew how quickly you submitted to him, and he had a hunch of how tonight would go. It was easy slipping into those roles with him in charge. So you look up at him with a shy smile, fondling with the strings of his dark linen pants, and tell him.

“Can we please do level four?”

Pride spread across him at your good manners. He loved that you still knew what to do even after years of not being together.

He would have sent all his loving emotions through the bond if it existed. The absence of a bond between him and you always seemed abnormal. Both of you questioned the Mother’s decision all the time, hiding the fact that you both were scared of the possibility of your mates popping up and claiming the other.

Shaking away his thoughts, he smiled at your words again and complied.

Step by step, he undressed you, his eyes never leaving yours. Rhysand’s eyes dropped to your pebbled nipples, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the intense attention he gave you.

“You still remember the safe word?” he rasped out, his pupils expanding as you nodded, your lips nervously caught between your teeth.

He pounced on you, eagerly kissing you in a brusing manner as he tightened his arms around you. Rhys slowly made you back, resulting in you falling backwards into the bed before he climbed on top of you.

His hands found your waist amd subtly squeezed before sliding up to your boobs and playing with your hardened nipples.

You whimpered in pleasure, making him smile as he lowered his mouth to attatch to your right breast. His wet, warm tounge swirled around the bud, biting and licking soothingly. He repeated the move on the other side, reveling in the way you were squirming under him.

“Is it too much, sweetheart?”

“Not enough.”

So his hand slid down your body until his thumb brushed over your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled back when he put pressure on it, rubbing tight circles against you. It was almost mortifying how quick you melted and lost your mind.

A few more circles and you’d be cumming. Almost, almost.

The pleasure was short-lived when he removed his thumb, causing you to pout slightly as your brows furrowed in confusion.

“No teasing. You can play later, I’ve missed you too much.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a heated makeout session.

You also wrapped your legs around his waist and whispered against his lips,

“I need you so bad, please. I need your entire being.”

He slipped one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he added another finger and felt your walls pulse around him. Rhys pulled them out before shoving them back in, repeating the move, stroking your walls. He curled his fingers inside as he carefully watched your face morph from a begging expression to a fucked out smile.

“I will give you whatever your heart desires,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again. As he did, he conjured his massive and majestic wings, spreading them proudly behind him, a breathtaking display of power.

Your wobbly smile melted into tears of joy as you whispered, “There you are,” feeling overwhelmed by the rush of emotions at seeing him again.

Rhys didn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He held onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy, circling it and letting your wetness drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his cock, he used it as a lubricant before he slid himself inside you.

Rhys pulled out and then in again until his entire cock was stuffed in you. He then leaned forward, putting his forehead in the crook of your neck, gently biting and sucking hickies onto your skin. He began thrusting, harder and harder. The entire room echoing with skin slapping, groans and pornstar-like moans.

Rhysand’s gripped your hips in a brusing manner, rocking them back and forth forth as he moved his own hips.

He lifted his head and gently brought his hand to your face, cupping your chin as he murmured,

“You're mine. Mine to love, to fuck, to have.”

You nod eagerly, your need evident.

“Only yours, baby. Forever and always, yours.”

He growled softly and turned your body around so you were on all fours. Gripping your hair, he pulled it back, causing your back to arch against his chest.

Rhysand put his dick back in and pumped deliciously against that spongy spot that had you acting like a mindless fool.

“You got fucked this good while we were seperated, hm?”

His hand snaked up and held your neck, applying a gentle pressure, a hint of restraint, as he taunted you.

Of course, he already knew the answer. But it was always nice to hear it from you.

“M-right, there, no one compares to you. No one could ever, ah fuck, do me this good. P-please, let me cum.”

“Fuck, yeah that’s right. But I think it’s a little too early for you to cum. I told you I wanted to make up for lost time. We’re nowhere near done.”

You let out a whine at the denial, a little vexed that he didn’t give you permission yet. But you knew he had plans so you decided to wait in hopes of getting something better.

“Good things come for good girls, you know that right?”

“I understand. Just keep going.”

You knew you forgot to add a please and were more than happy when he gave your puffy clit a slap.

“Manners.”

“Keep going, please.”

He chuckled at how quick you gave in and kissed your cheek, letting go of your hair and pushing you forward to your elbows and knees. Rhys grabbed your hips and gave you deep, slow and intentional strokes. Almost like he wanted you to cum early.

Rhys kept going for a long time, bringing you to the edge, only to snatch away pleasure in the last second. You were tired but knew all of this was building up into the most intense and powerful orgasm ever.

“Do you know how much I love you? Do you have any idea how deep my love for you goes?��

Cue the waterworks.

Really, his words started making you bawl right there. With concern etched on his face, he gently moved you into missionary, turning the back-breaking backshots into a tender moment. As he pushed in for the last time, he hovered above you, his forearms on either side of your head, kissing your puffy lips.

“I love you too, Rhysie, so, so much. There's really no one I love more than you.”

Your words were raspy and choked, his words were sweet and understanding.

“I know, sweet girl. I know you do.”

Suddenly, a snap felt in your chest. You both locked eyes, breathing heavily as you felt a thread weaving your very souls together. Tears prickled in your eyes at his words.

As the realization of the mating bond sinked in, a warm glow envelops both of you, filling the room with a sense of love and belonging. Rhysand's eyes softened even more, if that's possible, as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes.

“You're my mate,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “My soulmate, my other half.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the connection between you grow stronger with each passing moment. “And you're mine,” you replied, your voice filled with emotion. “Forever and always.”

Rhysand moved quicker and quicker, finally allowikg you to cum.

You were on the verge of passing out, the only reason there was any sort of fight in you left was because of the charged bond.

Before he pulled out, you locked your legs around him and begged him to stay inside. He did and slumped on top of you, his head resting on your raising and falling chest. You ran your hands through his damp, dark hair and reveled in warmth when he wrapped his wings around the two of you.

You both rest for a while before starting up again. Normally, a session like this would have you knocked out cold but you guessed it was the fresh bond.

The entire day was spent tangled in sheets and fucking in showers, other rooms, hallways, kitchens, roofs. Rhysand also sent a mental message to everyone in the inner circle, breaking the news and asking them not to disturb you for at least a week. He also asked Cassian to keep looking after the girls and warned that anyone who got too close would likely die.

—

You and Rhys, lay together in a pile of fluffy blankets and pillows on the floor, the bed damaged and broken from the week’s activities.

“Rhys, do you know what I think? I think it’s kind if poetic that we broke up and then became mates. I mean, it sounds very romantic.”

He chuckled and pulled you closer to his chest.

“You know what? I agree. The Mother does work in mysterious ways. I guess we weren’t ready before.”

You smile at him and nod,

“I’m glad we find our way home.”

With a tender look and a sweet kiss, he whispered,

“As am I, darling.”

🏷️ taglist: @tayswhp @jenjen-0-x @itsinherited @thisblogisaboutabook @luvmoo @se7enteen--black-blog @feyretopia @possiblyphobia @azriels-mate2 @sfhsgrad-blog @readychilledwine @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @blupblupfish @cleverzonkwombatsludge @iloveazrielshadowsinger @cat-or-kitten @dreamlandreader @honeybeeboobaa @queerqueenlynn @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @clairebear08 @danikamariewrites @midnight-and-books @ruler-of-hades @annaaaaa88 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @stasiereads @harryshoobies69 @itsagrimm @a-dorkier-book-keeper @b0xerdancer @erikan809 @glittervame

[bokutoasavillain]

Hello! Could you recommend your favorite System fanfictions?

I have put this off for so long bc I have so many that I love and making a list that big seemed terrifying but I love sharing fanfics so here’s my best attempt <3

Bingqiu:

Tale Within A Tale

Rated T, It is so good!! The concept is so clever and it is such a satisfying read<33

it's you I find like a ghost in my mind

Rated M, a great identity reveal with a lot of dreamsharing

Treading Well-Worn Paths

Rated T, post-canon sqq turns into a kid and yqy and lbh look after him. I cannot tell you how I love this. The characterization, the dynamics, the identity reveal are all so perfect. Everything progresses so naturally and it is so good. The ending is a bit bittersweet and honestly it’s so fitting and just read this it’s perfect

We Are Not Wise

Rated T, in an au where cultivators draw their swords from their souls, sj takes in sy (a bit of blackmailing included). Sy and lbh are both disciples and soulmates. The focus is more on the relationship between sy and sj and it’s probably one of my favorite ways their relationship is portrayed. It is heavier on the angst and I was crying. It is so beautiful <33

The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Known

Rated T, such a sweet and lighthearted post-canon truth spell fic <33

side effects may include indefinite photosensitivity

This is a three part series taking place post-canon. It’s about relationship development and also character development bc these two are so so young and have so much time to still grow. It is so sweet and also has some genderqueer bingqiu (as a treat)

Also one of my favorite quotes ever that still makes me cry to this day:

“I think I am mourning something that never existed to begin with,” […]“I think I am the thing that never existed to begin with.” (It’s in the third fic)

lonely little heartbeat

Rated E, lbh reverse transmigrates at 15 (I don’t want to spoil it but it’s great)

colored bright green

Rated T, Binghe also transmigrates to pidw and finds out he’s not the only one! It’s a slow burn and so sweet

Now Entering Incognito Mode!

Rated E, sqq flees cqms while lbh is in the abyss and he meets a mysterious young lady, I don’t want to spoil this it is soooo good!!!

I'll make the world safe and sound for you

Rated M, babytrapping (kinda?) its sweet and beautiful

go with the flow

Rated T, no plot just sweet post-canon husbands

End Racism in the OTW -- Infinite First Dates

Rated M, set during the five years sqq is dead, a lot of dream sharing. It’s really fun and lovely and just perfect <33

Type Casting

Rated E, oh god this one is soooo good!! What if sqqs mushroom body was that of a woman? And what if he didn’t remember his death?? And what if he himself assigned himself the role of the female lead bc well she’s a woman now so she obviously has to marry lbh right? Right???

Also sqqs inner monologue is so perfect and so good!!!!

I love this one so much pleeeeaase read it!!

the adventure of tiny bing

Rated E, tiny bingbing!! They’re friends and husbands and silly your honor

Error 404: Shizun Not Found?

Rated M, such a unique concept done so well

Promise Me Your Heart

Rated T, such a sweet and so underrated fic! I love it so much it fills me with all the mushy sweet feelings and it’s so tender and romantic and just sooo sweet <33

We’ll Meet While Rain is Falling

Rated E, amnesia that gets fixed by you guessed it papapa!! (It’s really sweet and tender)

Size Empress

Rated E, genderqueer sqq has a dream and well it progresses really well

Benign Deviations

Rated M, Bingge and Bingmei switch places and it’s amazing

shallow water weather

Rated T, MERMAID BINGQIU!! It’s so good (also anything my nyoomerr is amazing so read them all)

continued

Rated T, this one is really hard to describe so just go and read it it’s so fun and hilarious

To Boil a Frog

Rated M, the narrator in this one is so good and fun and overall it’s great

a gentler lesson

Rated T, KISSES!! SOO MANY KISSES!!!!

I (immortal, M) think I might be developing feelings for my roommate (27M). Help!!!

Rated M, so stupid so good just what it says in the title

A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler Walk Into the Bamboo House

Rated T, I just really love this one! Definitely so worth reading (I might have read it twice)

open my lungs to let you in

Rated T, also one I’ve reread a few times

Can't we just skip to the end?

Rated E, time travel baby! This and the sequels are so good!!

night of yearning

Rated E, lbh gets selective amnesia, this absolutely destroyed my soul

As to Me, As to You

Rated T, such an amazing concept with so much potential for future shenanigans and overall so satisfying

right from the start, I gave you my heart

Rated T, sqq is under an obedience curse when the jinlan reunion happens what could possibly go wrong?

Cumplane:

slow dance with you

Rated T, Kissies<33

I've got $400 and a really bad idea

Rated T, fake dating hehehe

Cumplane Summary Archive

Rated T, Outsider pov and overall hilarious

huddle for warmth

Rated G, so sweet and funny

Bros before... well everything I guess

Rated T, theyre a family <33

Moshang:

The Pen is Mightier

Rated E, Mbj seducing his husband <33

speak your mind

Rated T, sweet and touch starved

technically our marriage is saved

Rated T, so fun

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Rated T, this is so good! It destroyed me emotionally and just ugh. My notes after reading it: „My chest hurt and oh my god this is perfect and painful and beautiful“

A Child Once

Rated T, post-canon sqh gets deaged and it’s really good

retrograde

Rated T, amnesia and misunderstandings work out

maine nazaron se tujhe chu liya

Rated M, soulmate marks and a bit of mystery (kinda)

If Not You

Rated E, fuck or die and it’s really good. I stayed up reading this until I could not see properly and I was dizzy

Ok this is it! I went through all my bookmarks for this and it took me the entire day. I hope you enjoy and if you ever need anything specific I can probably find it for you<3

[seeingivy]

enchanted 

satoru gojo x f!reader 

**part of my debut concert event 

**part one of this fic here icymi (read before or its kinda confusing)

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: satoru and your parents are annoying, like in the last part, readers mom just says a bunch of mean shit (including comments on body image, etc), gojo being defensive of his wife but also corny asf, babies megumi + tsumiki having lil nightmares and wanting to sleep w their parents 

an: KING OF MY HEART IS ONE OF MY FAV FICS EVER. so glad the pookie who requested this asked for it bc I was so excited writing it. also corny lil enchanted lyrics are at the end. mister satoru gojo is enchanted to meet you and ur lil babies megumi and tsumiki just love you

- 

“Dr. L/N?” 

You look up from the computer, breaking away from your sheer focus of charting all the patients you just saw in the past hour (nine patients - which sounds mediocre, but in actuality is insanity on earth). 

Because when they’re sick, their parents ask a lot of questions. Which you understand and always honor - but that means you’re always running on a back log, running from one room to the next with no breaks in between. Satoru thinks that you’ll collapse on the floor one day while doing it. And you tell him that he’s praying on your downfall. 

“Yes, Sarah? What’s up?” 

“Your husband’s here to have lunch with you.” 

“Ah. I still haven’t caught up on my charting and I really need to-” 

You feel a hand on your shoulder, your senior advisor, Dr. Aoki, giving you a warm smile. She’s almost thirty years your senior - soft wrinkles and grey patches spread throughout her hair. 

And she really, really loves Satoru. Which you know because she doesn’t shut up about him, always going on about how sweet he is. 

“Go. Have lunch with your husband. I’ll finish off for you.” 

“Ah. Dr. Aoki, I can’t let you. Plus, you don’t even know-” 

“You take detailed notes. And I’m old, but I’m sure I can figure it out. Now go eat lunch with your sweet husband before I do it for you.” 

You smile, giving her hand a squeeze, before dragging your feet to the breakroom - suddenly hyperaware of the tension in the back of your knees, your shoulders, and the back of your eyes. Satoru’s waiting for you at the center table - two glass bento boxes and two iced coffee’s sitting on the table. 

He’s scrolling aimlessly on his phone and you’re more than positive that he’s playing Cut the Rope. A game Megumi begged him to download, but now he plays more than Megumi. Which just pisses Megumi off, because Satoru plays so far ahead in the game that Megumi can’t even remember which level it was he stopped at. 

You look down at the cup of iced coffee, Satoru’s handwriting inscribed on the side. 

pookie &lt;;3 

Bastard. He knows you hate it when you call him that.

Satoru looks up and smacks his phone down at the table as you take his side, placing your head flat against the clear, white table. Satoru immediately directs his hand to the back of your hair, his fingers soothing into the tense muscles in the back of your neck. 

“Hello my little workaholic.” 

“Good afternoon my little pain in the ass.” 

He laughs, lifting your head up as he opens up the boxes, sliding forward the food he made and sticking the fork in your hand. You look down at the line up - egg fried rice and a wild assortments of fruits and vegetables on the side. They’re all cut into sweet little shapes - the cucumbers in hearts, the strawberries in flowers. 

Right. You had tasked Satoru with making Megumi and Tsumiki’s lunches for one week when you were on the night call. When you had returned, all he did was scold you for making very boring lunches for Megumi and Tsumiki. 

Granted, you thought they weren’t half bad. You always made sure to give them a little treat - strawberry gummies for Tsumiki and sour candy for Megumi - and left sweet little notes in their lunch boxes, saying you were proud of them, that Megumi was going to do great on his presentation, and that Tsumiki looked pretty today. 

Satoru resolved the situation by heading to the store and buying the special little cutouts, shiny new metal tin boxes for Megumi and Tsumiki, and even glittery stationery to leave them both notes. 

Yeah and he never let you make their lunch again. He’d often drop by to the office to eat with you, since he knew that was the only time you would eat anything, and bring you by the third box he arranged with theirs in the morning. 

“Hard day, my love?” 

“Yeah, Satoru. And it’s not even over yet.” 

He places the fork in your hand again, instructing you to eat as you keep talking, tasking himself with mixing up the layers of the coffee he brought you. 

“What’s the point of working so hard? Didn’t you marry me for my money?” 

“Well, obviously but-”

“Hey!” 

“What?” 

“That’s so rude to admit. You should keep that type of stuff to yourself.” 

“Okay, Satoru. You married me as a cover for your girlfriend and-”

“Stop throwing that in my face! So you have one girlfriend and suddenly you’re the bad-” 

“It is when you’re married!” 

You both laugh, Satoru ruffling your hair, as he opens up the second box, sliding it towards you as you keep eating. 

“You don’t want, Toru?” 

“No. They’re both for you. You really do work too hard, Y/N.” 

“Well. Our parents could cut us off - we don’t exactly do everything they want. And I want to be self sufficient and be a good role model for-” 

“Tsumiki and Megumi. I know, my love. I’m just saying.” 

You lean into Satoru’s touch, placing your aching head against his shoulder as he leans over, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. You finish off your own box (and Satoru’s) and down your iced coffee (and half of Satoru’s, before he starts scolding you about healthy caffeine intakes). 

He gives you a sweet kiss goodbye, giving soft smiles to the rest of your coworkers, as you buckle in for the rest of your shift. 

- 

“Satoru.” 

“Hm.” 

“Look at what my mom texted me.” 

He untangles himself from his position - which is just using you as a third pillow - and peaks his head up, squinting his eyes at your phone in the dark. 

Your mom, heinous bitch she is, sent you a text reminding you about all the things you need to do for your dinner with the Gojo’s tomorrow. 

Wear a dress. Make sure it’s appropriate, but enough to keep a guy like Satoru interested. You don’t want your husband running off just because you’re boring him. 

Make sure to wear the wedding ring Satoru gave you, not the engagement. You’re going to look tacky otherwise. 

Fresh flowers, that haven’t bloomed yet. Don’t embarrass me by bringing flowers that’ll die in a day. 

And please don’t leave your hair fully down. It washes you out. 

Satoru glares at the camera, looking up at your face. He finds it hard to read you in situations like this. Because in all honesty, he knows that you hate your parents. But he doesn’t miss the way you act differently when it comes to them. 

Because when you’re mad at Satoru for not picking up Tsumiki on time or at Megumi for not telling you he had a project due tomorrow until nine pm, you get a reasonable amount of mad. Pink in the cheeks, a little bit of scolding, followed by fixing the problem and talking it out. 

But with them you, you don’t really talk about it. And he’s not sure if it’s because he’s not privy to the conversations that you have with them, but for some reason, he thinks there aren’t any. And that you just take it, when it’s them. 

Which he understands. Too well. That’s part of the reason he’s with you, in this bed right now. Cuddled up in your arms, pressing lazy kisses around your shoulder. 

Because his parents asked you to marry him. Because you told him you didn’t mind if he kept his own life outside of it, that you were just doing what you had to do. 

And now that he…loves you, parts of it all make him sad. That you’d take someone telling you what to do - telling you that you don’t look good with your hair down when you look good all the time and that you’re tacky or boring or- 

“Hey. Y/N.” 

“Hm, Satoru?” 

“You know I…love you right? For real?” 

“Yeah. You told me.” 

“But like, for real, okay? Not just because we’re…married or whatever. I actually really, really love you. You’re very pretty and you’re always so good with Megumi and Tsumiki and you’re so good at your job and-” 

You stop him in his tracks by cupping his face in his ands, quirking your head to the side. You lean down and peck at his lips, pressing your fingers into his dimples. 

“I love you too, Satoru but what’s this about?” 

He frowns, placing his head back in your lap as you start running your hands through his white locks of hair, soft to the touch. You can feel his cheeks are warm from his face lying against your bare legs and you can’t help but smile at the fact that he’s blushing. Even after one year of marriage (and eight months of real marriage), he’s still nervous around you. 

“I don’t know. Your mom’s just stupid. You’re not boring or tacky and you look very pretty with your hair down.” 

“Thank you, Toru. For getting so offended on my behalf. But I don’t care, let’s go to bed, yeah?” 

He nods, shuffling the sheets around you as he sprawls across the bed. One thing about Satoru, he has to touch you when he’s sleeping. 

Not in the…dirty way. It could be the coldest night of the year and he has his entire body weight on you, treating you like a stuffed animal he was sleeping with. Or it’s the hottest night of the year and he’s as far away as he can be from you - just placing his hand on your forearm or tangling one of his legs with yours. 

Touchy. Even when he’s asleep. 

After not even five minutes of sleep, you feel a tapping on your nose, your features crinkling up from the sensation. 

“Toru. Quit tickling me.” 

He murmurs back incoherently, tangling around in the sheets as a response. Right. Satoru also sleeps like the walking dead. And he can and will sleep anywhere and everywhere, almost instantly. It’s actually a talent. 

“Um. That wasn’t him.” 

You flutter your eyes open to find Megumi, standing awkwardly at your side. You immediately sit up, clicking on the light as Satoru starts groaning behind you, smacking his hand on the bed to get you to turn the light off. You look over at the clock and realize it’s well past three, meaning Megumi should have been asleep hours ago. 

“Megs. You okay?” 

“Uh, yeah. But Tsumiki, she’s like crying a lot. Usually, what I do works but she just won’t stop.” 

You shake Satoru at your side, his eyes finally fluttering open as he looks at you and Megumi in confusion. 

“Megumi-chan. You better be interrupting our sleep for something good.” 

“Satoru, stop it. Go get Tsumiki. Now. I think she’s crying.” 

Satoru immediately stands up, stalking out of the room as you turn back to Megumi, taking his tiny hands in yours. He looks like he usually does - blank expression on his face, avoiding eye contact, tiredness on his face. 

You wrap one of your hands around his cheek and squeeze, feeling his skin warm under your touch. 

“What do you think happened, Megs?” 

“She had a bad dream. Usually, we kind of just stay with each other till it stops. But, it didn’t really work.” 

“Have you had them while you were here? Or her?” 

“Yeah sometimes.” 

You can feel your heart clench in your chest and you immediately wrap Megumi in your arms, brushing your hands through his soft, black hair. You can still smell the shampoo in his hair from earlier, the fresh smell springing into your nose. They should be coming to you. Not each other. Megumi’s only five. And she’s just seven. 

“Megumi. You know you can come to us about that stuff. Both of you. And you should be because we know how to help you and-” 

You stop talking as Satoru walks into the room, craning your head to the side to survey the situation. Satoru’s carrying Tsumiki in his arms, something he doesn’t do very often, and you can hear her soft sniffles as he places her on the bed between you, rubbing circles into her back. 

You take the cup of water on the nightstand (that Satoru leaves out for you everyday so you can stay hydrated) and hand it to her, directing her to calm her breaths. She’s shaking so hard and her eyes are so pink that she can barely hold the glass, Satoru taking it from her hands and tilting her head up so she can drink it. 

You look over at Megumi, his eyes twitching as he looks at Tsumiki, and you direct him to sit on the bed next to you, right next to Tsumiki and in between you and Satoru. 

You never really know what to do in situations like this. And neither does Satoru. I mean hell, you’re only twenty-three and Satoru’s only twenty-four. And they haven’t been your kids for too long. 

Other parents, the ones who come into your practice, talk about how they know somethings wrong. They can feel it in their gut. Their parental instinct. But you don’t have any of that, especially not with Tsumiki and Megumi. 

And you know it’s not something you can learn and something that just comes from being their parents, but you sincerely wish it was. Because Tsumiki and Megumi deserve to have someone who can read them like that, who knows what’s wrong with them, and talks for them when they don’t know how. And-

Satoru opens up his arms, with Tsumiki crawls into his lap and curls herself up against his chest. She looks so small, barely covering his entire frame as she hiccups into his chest, pushing the back of her hand against his eyes. 

Satoru beckons Megumi to join her and he awkwardly crawls up, the two of them nestled in Satoru’s arms. Maybe you spoke too soon. Because it always seems like Satoru knows what he’s doing. 

“You too, goofy.” 

You roll your eyes as you scoot closer to them, laying your head against Satoru’s shoulders as you start running your hands through Tsumiki’s hair, rubbing soft circles into the small of her back like Satoru was earlier. 

“Hi Miki.” 

“H-hi Y/N.” 

“How you feeling, sweet girl?” 

“O-okay.” 

You soften your hands in her hair, focusing on braiding the ends as you talk, the three of them hanging on to every word you say. 

“Miki, Megs. I know you’ve…been together for a long time. Before me and Satoru came around. And I’m sure you have your own ways of…being there for each other. But, you can let us be there for you too, you know?” 

You feel Tsumiki stiffen under your touch and you pull back, holding the braid in place on your head. 

“I don’t mean to let each other go. You’re siblings and that’s one of the most important relationships you can have. But just know, Satoru and I can be smart sometimes. Well, I can. I don’t really know about him.” 

“Hey.” 

Tsumiki and Megumi laugh, which stops Satoru’s protests all together. It’s working. And Satoru’s jealous of you, because as always, you know the right thing to say. To get them to smile again, tell you what’s wrong. And sure, you’ve always had that effect on Satoru but he loves that you can do it with them too. You’ve clearly got this parenting thing more figured out than him, he thinks. 

“But, we can help you too, you know? I’m a big girl. I can deal with whatever you give me.” 

Tsumiki turns to the side, crawling out of Satoru’s lap as she crawls into yours, squeezing herself in your arms. 

“Th-thanks, Y/N. But maybe not right now?” 

“Whenever you want, okay? Let’s just go to bed now, it’s late.” 

“Can I sleep with you, Y/N? And Satoru?” 

Satoru leans forward, squeezing Tsumiki’s hand in hers as he nods, opening up the covers for her. Megumi awkwardly looks between you and Satoru and you catch on fast, signaling for him to join you under the covers as well. The four of you are squished together, Tsumiki clinging on to you and Megumi clinging on to Satoru. 

They both fall asleep fast and you give a weary look to Satoru in the dark, which he returns with a smile. 

- 

You hate leaving at a time like this. And you hate your parents and even Gojo’s parents for making you come to a stupid dinner like this. 

Your kids, that they don’t know about, need you. You had tried your best to make Tsumiki comfortable, making her a stack of warm, strawberry pancakes and letting her pick what you guys ate for lunch. 

And when you had to leave her with Nanami and Shoko to go see the Gojo’s, you swear you could feel your heart clench at the thought of leaving her. And Megumi. And of the two of them being uncomfortable without you there. 

You could tell from the look in Satoru’s eyes that he shared your sentiments, his gaze weary as he said goodbye, lingering by the door until you two really had to leave. And then you both made your trek to the Gojo Estate. 

And god do you hate it here. In all but ten minutes of dinner, your mother, assfucking clown she was, had already found ten different things to pick on. 

Your hair has split ends, you should cut it. 

You should slow down on the food. 

You could have worn a more flattering color. 

Every spiky comment she makes, Satoru squeezes his hand in yours under the table, grounding you in the moment. If it wasn’t for him and the soft looks he was giving you every few minutes, you’re sure you would have broken the centerpiece in the middle of the table by now. 

“Say, Y/N, Satoru.” 

You look up to find Mr. Gojo beaming at you, the smile not meeting his eyes. You can feel Satoru’s hand tense in yours under the table and you know it’s your turn to protect him from his dad. 

“Did you start trying for kids?” 

“Dad.” 

“What, Satoru? It’s an important question. You guys have been married for a year now and surely there’s no better time than now to start trying.” 

You can feel your mouth dry at the thought. Kids. Kids of your own. Like, a crying, pooping baby - half parts you and half parts Satoru. 

How in the world could they think you were ready for that? Because in all honesty, Satoru��s your husband in name but he feels like your boyfriend. 

You’ve been together for eight months. You haven’t gone on a vacation together or met his college best friend and you don’t know what his favorite smoothie flavor is or what the first car he drove was and they want you to start popping out kids? 

You and Satoru aren’t ready for kids. And really, you already have two kids. That need you right now. And you have all the time in the world to have more and you really, really just like things the way they are. For now, and-

“They’ll get working on it.” 

You feel your eyes boggle out of your head as you crane your neck to look at your mom, a self-assured smile placed on her face. She can’t really be serious, can she? 

“Oh, how sweet! A grandchild. Oh, I do hope it’s a boy. So we can pass on the Gojo name and all.” 

It’s Satoru’s turn to glare at his mother and you’re sure that he has the same bitter taste in his mouth as you. Sure, they were the reason you guys got married but they had no right to treat you guys like this. Like you were put together to make some offspring for them to fawn over. 

“Although, I wouldn’t mind a girl. Boys can be rowdy and insensitive.” says Mr. Gojo, a matter-of-fact tone in his words. 

“That’s not true. Boys can be sensitive too. You just have to raise them right.” you respond, muttering the words under your breath. 

Megumi’s sweet and sensitive. He always avoids stomping on flowers growing out of the cracks of the cement and he always writes cards for his teachers on holiday’s and always says please and thank you after every little thing you and Satoru do for him, even if it is under his breath. 

“Well, I hope it’s a boy. Girls come with attitude.” your dad responds, the implication in his tone clear. 

“No daughter of ours would take back-handed comments like that.” 

Because Tsumiki’s never done that. Because Satoru remembers the day someone tried to pick on her in her class and all she did was calmly respond. Stand her ground, surely but firmly. Something he’s sure that she learned from you. And to think someone could dismiss that off as attitude is so fucking-

You squeeze Satoru’s hand under the table, signaling him to stop. Because he’s being rude. Because he shouldn’t talk back to your father even if he’s wrong and-

“Satoru. Stop.” you whisper, awkwardly eyeing the four of them as he deflates. 

The four of you awkwardly sit in silence, the forks clicking against the plates. Satoru’s crushing your hand into oblivion under the table and you can see that he’s agitated from the way his shoulders are all scrunched up. And when his dad talks next, he really can’t hold it in anymore. 

“Satoru, son. All you have to do take her to bed one time to pass on the Gojo na-” 

Satoru smacks his fist against the table, the glassware making a loud noise against the surface. You look over to find Satoru smoldering, the way he often did when he was near his dad. 

“Don’t talk about my wife like that. She’s not some thing for you to use. You can try that shit on anyone else but you know damn well I’m not letting you do it to her.”

Mrs. Gojo’s features scrunch up in frustration, a pinched look on her face as she starts massaging the bridge of her nose. Satoru stands up, pulling you up with him as he stomps out, dragging you out with him. 

- 

You two drive in silence the entire way home. Satoru’s still smoldering in his drivers seat, jaw tight against his skin as he clenches his fists on the steering wheel, knuckles going white. And you’re unsure of what you can say to him to ease it, make him feel better. 

He parks the car in the driveway, leaning his head against the seat to look up through the sunroof, the stars glittering in the sky above you. He makes no motions to get out of the car, the engine and lights still turned on despite the fact that you and Satoru were home. 

“Y/N.” 

“Hm, Satoru?” 

“You-you okay?” 

“What? Yeah. Are you?” 

He doesn’t respond and instead loosens his tie, the fabric hanging from the sides of his collar. 

“I just…hate them. So much. Why would we rush having a child when we aren’t ready? And who are they to talk about you like that? Like all I keep you around for is to bear my children.” 

You’re not sure what to say so you snake your hand into his, leaning over the glove box to lean onto his shoulder. You can feel him deflate under you, leaning his head on top of yours as he presses his hand against your waist, his hands rubbing back and forth on the fabric. 

“Satoru.” 

“Yeah, love?” 

“You feel like my boyfriend, right now. I know you’re my husband but…we’ve only been together for eight months. And I know it’s weird to say but…I’d like to have a kid with you someday just…not now.” 

His hand comes up, angling your face up so you’re looking at him, a big smile spread across his face. You can feel your cheeks burning from the admission and you clench your eyes shut to avoid seeing the teasing look on Satoru’s face. 

“Y/N. You’d want to have kids with me?” 

You nod and Satoru’s face splits into a big smile, his hands shaking in yours. 

“Well, yeah. It would be cute, when the time is right. Megumi and Tsumiki can have a little sibling and it’ll be like…a little us. 

“A little us?” 

“Your nose, my eyes, hopefully all of my looks and none of your annoyingness.” 

“You’re so sweet, Y/N. I don’t know how I ever lucked out with such a charming girl like you.” he responds, sarcasm dripping from his voice. You laugh in response, beaming at him as you talk on. 

“I love you, Satoru. And I’d love to have kids with you but we’re just…we already have two kids and I think they need us right now. They haven’t opened up yet and-” 

“I know, sweet. I agree. Trust me, I’d love nothing more than putting a baby in your right here, right now in this car but-” 

“Pervert.” 

“Why are you so rude? Every word is like a bullet wound in my chest.” 

You lean over, pressing a kiss to his chest as you lean back and glare at him. He smiles at you, a sweet look on his face. 

“What was that for?” 

“You said bullet wound in your chest. I was just kissing your ego better.” 

He leans forward, cupping your face as he kisses you, hanging off the ends of your lips as he squeezes his face in your hands. He pulls apart, pressing kisses all over your face as he talks, his words making your cheeks burn. 

“You’re so-” 

Kiss. 

“Damn cute.” 

Kiss. 

“I hate you sometimes.” 

Kiss. 

“When we have kids, I hope they’re all like you. Pretty eyes, soft hair, snarky attitude. She’ll be so easy to love, all goofy and idiotic like you.” 

“She, Satoru?” 

“Oh, she’s totally going to be a girl. My three girls. You, Tsumiki, and her.” 

“Sounds like you have it all planned out already?” 

“Well, I’m waiting. For when you’re ready and I’m ready and all that. But yeah. I’ve already seen how our entire life is going to play out. You and I are going to grow old together. Sick it to our parents. Have the type of love kids dream about. All that lovey-dovey stuff.” 

You and Satoru, hands pressed together, pad into the dark of the house, slowly climbing up the stairs. When you amble into your bed room, you can hear soft snores in your bed - Tsumiki and Megumi fast asleep under your sheets. There’s a tiny little sticky-note pressed to the light switch, which you and Satoru both squint at. 

They want to sleep with "their parents”. Their words, not ours. - Shoko 

You and Satoru quickly peel out of your clothes and climb under the sheets - Satoru leaning over to press a kiss to all three of your heads before fluttering his own eyes shut. 

And you hate to say it, because all in all the night wasn’t perfect, but you really, really don’t want to let it go. Every part of this night is…sparkling in your mind. Satoru defending you, telling you that he loves you, that he wants to have kids with you. You-

You count yourself lucky. That you don’t have to wonder if Satoru is in love with someone else or what he thinks about you or any other thing. 

Because you know the person he’s waiting on is you. 

- 

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha​ @rebeccawinters 

[15-lizards]

Worldbuilding wise do you think the ideal woman and ideal man flickers from kingdom to kingdom? I can’t see the reach and north having the same ideals and I cannot see the Stormlands and vale or westerlands and dorne.

Yeah I mean it’s like every culture, where morals and ideals vary from place to place due to their history and surroundings etc etc. also prepare for a long tangent as I force you to listen to my sociology and psychology training

1. It’s canon that Northerners are rougher and sterner people, due to their way of living and the ever present threat of years long winters. Life is first and foremost about survival, so being frivolous and carefree is more looked down upon. Men and women have roughly the same moral standards placed on them I think. They’re both supposed to be more serious and frugal, though ofc men have expectations of dominance and strength while women are expected to be stern matrons. However the patriarchal ideas of the south are not as strong up north, bc in a place so often barren and hard to survive in, everyone is needed to put in 100% to keep their families alive. Which also leads me to thinking ab more of a collectivist culture in the north

2. Riverlander culture is also very family oriented. They are steeped in traditions of their houses, and old stories that happened centuries ago still resonate with them. Thus an ideal man is a staunchly good man, one who cares for his family and raises his children well. He is practical, he values the advice of his old advisors and he must be a father to his men, especially the ever-suffering peasants. Women are considered the hearth of the home. She is loyal to her husband, father, or brothers, and must give them the sound advice of women (when appropriate, of course). She is gentle voiced and soft, frequently gives out alms to the poor and passes down the traditional tales to her children.

3. Westerland culture is incredibly individualistic. You are fighting for yourself and your house instead of the collective good. So in both genders, ambition is positively regarded, and men and women are often expected to have sharp wits in order to survive cutthroat politics. However the patriarchy is still like. A thing. So women are often confined to the domestic sphere, but powerful ladies are definitely expected to wield their influence within it. Overall just a very harsh vibe to live up to and stern gender divides despite the opulence and decadence of the culture itself.

4. The Reach is very similar to the Westerlands in terms of morals and ideals, but covers them up far better. It still rewards ambition and cunning, but you have to be incredibly graceful throughout. Manners and courtesy are very alive here. Men are told to be valiant, courageous, and outgoing, and are expected to charm their way into what they desire. For women, it’s a standard for them to be lively and sweet, and there’s an unspoken expectation that they be able to navigate the court politics with grace. A far more charismatic version of Westerners, if you will.

5.The culture of The Vale is ruled by stuffy social codes. Tradition, honor, and frivolous rules dictate everything about a persons behavior. The ideal man is gentlemanly and noble, who is even handed and respectful in his behavior. He is friendly, but there is a certain aloofness about him that is not to be breached, as it would be a violation of the social code. The model woman is even more aloof, as too much friendliness tells one of her loose morals. A good woman must be above suspicion, withdrawn and just a little bit cold, but still empathetic and devoted (to the gods, her family, and subjects).

6. Dorne is fairly equitable in how they view their men and women, this is true in canon. Oftentimes one of the harshest places to live in Westeros, I feel like there's little time for divisive gender roles when every person is needed to work and help the collective survive. Both Dornish men and women tend to be sociable and friendly, due to their collectivist culture. An ideal man is considered to be outgoing, someone who treats their subjects and friends in a familiar manner. And they must be a least a little bit hot blooded, being seen as a sign they will defend the land Nymeria fought for. Women are supposed to be equally as friendly, frequently having guests over and creating community. They must be bold too, have a will to live in the lands. However, their customs often are mistaken for promiscuity by the non-dornish.

7. The Iron Islands ideal people probably have more of a stereotypical Norse/Viking mindset. It's not an easy land to live in, and both men and women have to be hardened in order to survive, the weak are left behind. For men, it's all a battle of dominance. If a man wants respect, he has to take it. He must be the strongest, the most violent, the man who can lead others to bloody victory. A lot of crass, stubborn personalities exist in turn. Women, even though looked down upon, still have to be as hardened as their men, despite the lack of respect they receive. A "respectable" woman is stubborn and unshakable, with a temperament that can take whatever is thrown at her. However, she is still jeered and disrespected by the men who call her a good woman.

8. The Crownlands are interesting, because there is no one defining culture, it's a real melting pot. The ideal is whatever is popular during any given time, which is dictated by whatever king sits the throne or noble whispers in his ear. So, men have to be very gregarious, able to get along with everyone, incase whoever they are loyal to suddenly falls from grace, and they must curry favor with someone else. Women are expected to be flirty and coquettish, an accomplished girl who can catch the eye of prominent noblemen that can secure their future. Basically a city of snakes and backstabbers looking for footholds into power.

[fumifooms]

toshiro's mom and maizuru....they intrigue me....of course there's absolutely nyathing in canon so they're basically entirely a figment of the imagination BUT....

Canonically Toshiro’s mom hates Maizuru to the point she can’t stand even seeing her, but Maizuru respects her…… In a patriarchal society and household where she’s likely only the housewife (who doesn’t even interact with her children much)…… An ornament, and a ninja warrior nanny……..

I do like to imagine Toshimom is fierce and cold, has authority but only as far as the house itself is concerned, like how she bars Maizuru from certain parts of the house, maybe participates in the politics and negotiations of the family but doesn’t command the same respect and power as her husband the head of house. Why does she hate Maizuru, like, does she even love her husband, who even his mistress and lover has difficulty to respect and consistently love? Is it a question of honor? Maizuru, a lowly servant who got doted on by the master out of favoritism, being preferred over the lady of the house. Is it that Maizuru represents what she hates about her life and the system she’s trapped in? A loveless marriage with a man who looks elsewhere when women are concerned, children who she hasn’t raised, only managing ever so on the side the family business of assassinations, spying and scheming. Is she sad, or angry? Is it jealousy, or pity? Wanting to have had other circumstances, but knowing she wouldn’t have wanted Maizuru’s, either. Maizuru may only be a servant, but she’s the one tasked to raise the Nakamoto heirs, including etiquette and behavior, so there’s no discounting she’s known to be able to have a very ladylike respectable demeanor as well. Both of them were raised in that environment of needing highly polite and proper behavior, or at least learned to adapt to it.

It’s very… In an opressive patriarchal environment where everyone is bound by their duty and station —and the will and whims of the man in charge, no matter if they’re both as high ranked as could be, the wife and the governess—, woman sees woman and can begrudgingly acknowledge the strength of character that was needed to arrive at the place they are now, even if it has pitted them against each other. I think Toshimom should wander the house and see slivers of Maizuru raising Toshiro, hanging out with him on the porch and feeding him her own cooking, spending tender moments with him, and get that acid in her throat and stomach and hatred and rage and terrible haunting melancholy and immediately gets the need to leave idk… But a lady doesn’t cry. No, a lady takes upon herself with grace, stays quiet, sets in place new rules if need be. The only skill she’s learned is plotting.

She’s in a glass house apart from everything else. Living in comfort but in emptiness. Her husband ignores her, her children barely know her or think of her. Is she even wanted here?

Also Maizuru needs vacations. And to grow a sense of self beyond her job. Aka a bit of a wake up call and all of this to say, they should have a fight and slip into a fountain and have heart to hearts and Maizuru respects her AND she is higher ranked so she should order Maizuru to have a vacation. To get her out of her sight but then whoops tfw you accidentally fix your rival’s mental health and life and then you seethe even more bc she gets to be free and you don’t. Listen listen: She wants a vacation away from the house and asks for a bodyguard, and specifically requests Maizuru. Why would she do that? Idk but hopefully she won’t attempt homicide and also maybe not cry all the tears in her body. They’ll work it out, trust

[votaeto]

I know I sent this to you, but I’m changing up the headcanons again 😭 and I really really love this but it just doesn’t fit my new formatting. And so, here, for you to keep because he’s not the man to my babies— it’s yours 💘

“I think I heard a kick…and a burp?!”

Ace ran his fingers on your soft belly, his ear listening for any interaction of the child. His face contorted to one of curiosity as he peered up through your breasts,

“I think it’s going to be a man! Heck yeah!”

You pulled on his hair, giggling as you shook your head, “We don’t know that yet, we have to wait for the ultrasound…and just because they’re a kicker doesn’t mean they’re a boy. It could be a girl.”

The raven shook his head, lifting himself from your tummy as he stood over you. One hand was still gently holding your bump, and his other caressed your cheek as he whispered,

“It’s going to be a boy.”

“No.”

Your husband pouted, but still kissed you as he tsked, “You know I’m right baby, you just don’t want to accept it y’know.” He sent a cheesy grin, but you returned it with a frown.

“Ace, have you ever heard the saying mother knows best?”

“Yeah but—“

You clasped your hand over his on your tummy, and squeezed it lightly. You were sure he got the hint but Ace still laughed, tucking a hair behind your ear as he lowered his voice;

“I’ll make sure we get a boy then, as many times as it takes.”

WAAAAAH STEPHIS ITS EVEN BETTER BC??!!! yes fine I guess we’ll try as many times 😮‍💨😮‍💨👉🏻👈🏻

ueueueueueueueueuuueeee 🥺💘💘💘💘

THANK YOUUU??! The honor omg 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

[strawberrystepmom]

f!reader is the goddess of love (aphrodite) and kakashi is a mortal. reader is obviously very old (godcore) and kakashi is in his canon age in naruto (27). im tagging @zorosdimples bc this is also partially another birthday present for her LMFAO. love u!!!!!!! wc 1.7k

divider thanks to @/saradika 🩷

You kneel near a red rose bush, delicate petals fluttering around on one of the last warm breezes of the summer and brushing over your exposed arms. It isn’t much longer that you’ll be able to visit the realm of the mortals in your lightest robes, the ones that hang off of your shoulders in a way that makes you most comfortable. 

The unencumbered feeling of the warmest time of the year still flows through you despite the fact that the sun dips earlier and earlier every single day and verdant green slowly turns to russet and yellow, leaves swaying overhead even in the garden you’re visiting. You glance up from the bush in front of you, red petals dancing and settling across your skirt, and witness them wave to you, as if they’re saying goodbye to you themselves. 

Shaking your head, you laugh and look back down, plucking one of the petals from your skirt and rubbing it between your thumb and index finger. It’s as velvety as you pictured it would be, soft as your skin, and it makes you wonder when the purveyor of these fine roses in tribute to you will arrive to make himself known.

Kakashi Hatake, a man whose likeness lingers in your psyche. You’ve been watching him for years, his offerings growing in both size and intimacy since he was a young man and it would be a struggle to remember the last time you wished to meet a mortal as badly as you find yourself wishing to meet him. You desire to see the man who cultivated such fine roses in the flesh, petting another petal between your fingertips. It’s the least you can grace him with, despite your true intentions being wanting to see this man who has won your affection through nothing more than devotion.

Affection, you think. You are the goddess of the very emotion and this is deeper than simple affection. 

You’re infatuated with him. When you lay with your husband, captor you’re more likely to call him, you think of him. When you wander through the veil of the mortals and gods, which you are, you think of him. His scarred eye that he believes makes him unworthy of worshiping you, the way his gray hair sticks up at all angles on top of his head. 

A sigh as gentle as the breeze escapes you as you sit back and think of the first time you remember seeing him.

It started years ago at the local temple erected in your honor, Kakashi paying tribute with prayer and apples daily after his hunts had finished. He’d leave his bloodied bow and boots at the entrance, propping them against pristine gray marble to stick out like the red of the very roses he now grows in your honor, and enter the temple to kneel at your feet. 

“Goddess,” he asked, his voice carrying the deep timbre of a man.  “I’ve come to request your blessing.”

You granted it without a second thought that day and have since, enamored with the young man asking for you. The man who, over the years, would visit your shrine to read poetry and love stories. The man covered in blood whose heart has always been deceptively tender beneath a scarred and hardened outside, years of hunting beneath the blistering sun for his family, his village, his friends.

It’s time to offer him yourself as tribute to him given all that he has offered to you.

“I was beginning to worry that you’d never arrive,” you finally speak over your shoulder, turning your head enough to watch him approaching where you sit. You hear his footsteps stop, standing in the grassy clearing with his mouth agape. He tilled, planted, and pruned this garden himself - his own devotional paradise to his favorite goddess and here you sit, sundrenched skin and hair and lips. 

Did he die? Is this the afterlife he always longed for, a chance to live without burdensome responsibilities? To be the man he has always been beneath the tarnish of his life?

“Come, don’t keep me waiting.”

You pat the grass next to you, still coyly gazing from above your shoulder blade, and his footsteps pick up once again though slowly. Taking a moment before speaking, he wiggles his hands and fingers to make sure he still has feeling in them. He wonders if he shouldn’t run and hurl himself against the trunk of the trees surrounding you just to ensure he is alive and this is not a dream.

“Was I gored?” He speaks aloud and you laugh, musical and dancing on the wind. Just as he always imagined he’d heard while he spent his time in your tribute. Immediately he notices his gaffe and his face reddens, still walking toward you with his nose pointed toward the ground. He doesn’t notice when you stand, turning to face him while the petals that accumulated in the folds of your robes flutter at your feet.

Oh he has to be dead, he’s just grateful that this is the paradise he has come to live his afterlife in.

“You are alive and well, Kakashi.”

He nods, ignorant of what else to do, and you giggle. Dropping your skirts out of one of your balled fists, you produce a small parchment that you’ve been holding onto for a very long time, the edges worn and bent with the weight of your fingers tracing around the edges. You offer it in his direction and he blanches, noticing the handwriting on the paper belongs to him.

“Do you remember this?” You ask knowing that he does, given the way his eyes drift from the paper in your hand to your face and back several times. It sends a chill through you to see the color of them in person - deep like a stormcloud yet light like the marble of that temple he used to frequent years ago. He’s beautiful and who knows beauty better than you, the goddess of the very concept itself?

“I do, goddess,” he nods and reaches for the parchment, fully unrolling it and letting his eyes rove over his own words. He wrote this 8 birthdays ago, a young man full of love so thick he lived in fear it would erupt out and ruin him like that of a volcano. Hot and searing, melting all left in its path. He sighs, scanning over the poem he knows is less impressive than any you’ve probably ever had written in your honor and wonders why this is the one you’ve kept.

Have you come to punish him for his tributes and their lack in comparison to the others that love you?

“How did you come into possession of this?”

You smile at his question, approaching him with soft footsteps. He’s a hunter, after all, trained to notice the footsteps of prey and predators alike. You want to present yourself as neither as you offer no threat to him. Even if he were to decline your affections, you’d let him live. It would sear through you and you’d imagine his face in place of that of your beastly husband daily for the rest of your days, but you’d understand. A dalliance between a mortal and a Goddess often leads to trouble and this is a man who has always tried very hard to stay out of such affairs.

“I plucked it from the temple myself all those years ago,” you explain, offering your hand to him. His eyes dart nervously again and you reach down to take his hand, rubbing your soft thumb across his calloused palms. 

“Surely this is an illusion,” he whispers, heart beating so rapidly he worries you’ll be able to see it through his worn linen shirt. This man is a hunter, a warrior, a teacher of the youth in his village in the same techniques that have kept them alive for decades and he has been rendered nothing more than an uncertain mess at the sight of you. “This…this cannot be happening.”

“And why do you say that, mortal?”

He straightens his back at the reminder of your place over his own, a goddess in the flesh, holding his hand and tenderly caressing the wound he received while teaching one of the village children to care for his spear.

“Because you are you and I am myself,” he mutters. “This cannot be.”

He watches your lips curve into a smile, hair swaying as you shake your head at his mortal sensibilities to believe he knows better than the goddess he has been paying tribute to for nearly his entire life.

“If you wish it not to be then it shall not be but please consider that I’ve been waiting for you as well before you turn me away.”

Kakashi raises his brow, curious as to what you mean. He says nothing and you take his silence as permission to continue speaking, still smoothing over the creases in his palm with your thumb.

“Consorting with mortals always has a potential cost but I’m willing to pay that to even speak to you,” you purport and his jaw drops again, brows knitting together in confusion.

“To…me?”

You nod, lacing your fingers between his. You do not bristle when he doesn’t immediately grasp you back, willing to allow him his comfort.

“You, who has left me poetry that makes all others pale in comparison. Who planted this rose bush and the dozens of others dotting this garden, felling the thorns as they bloom.”

For a moment he allows himself to embrace the fantasy you’re painting for him. The Goddess of Beauty and Love, pining for him just as he’s pined for you. He has spent many lonely nights in his life dreaming of a blessing from you but never imagined this would be the one.

Your delicate fingers wrapped around his knuckles, your sun warmed cheeks upturned in a smile.

“Come, let’s talk,” you offer, keeping your grip on his hand as the two of you walk toward the rose bush. 

You’re willing to do some convincing if you need it but given the red tips of his ears, you don’t believe it’ll take much.

[fistfuloflightning]

So. Someone a bit ago commented on one of my fics (or here, not sure) about my penchant for odd Tolkien rarepairs. I myself forget just how many I have, so here’s the rundown and why I like them:

Maedhros/Maeglin (just. the angst. of being buried under your mistakes and finding a kindred soul to share that same burden and heal together. soulmates. who might’ve even met during the nirnaeth. and they’re definitely switches your honor)

Celegorm/Aredhel or Celegorm/Dior (or Dior’s reckless/headstrong stubbornness reminds him of Aredhel and there’s a lot of angry/bittersweet proxyfucking and guilt and ‘I don’t know who I truly love anymore’)

Maglor/Luthien (beauty for beauty’s sake. and honestly anyone but beren. luthien getting involved with the war to protect her murderbard boyfriend and actually putting a dent in morgoth’s forces. mags trying his hardest to protect her as much as the silmaril she won back for him)

Curufin/Finrod (sending your husband to his death (that he knew abt but didn’t tell you) and screwing up your sons and living the rest of your shortened life regretting soooo. many. things. and then having to deal with them after mandos. a bitter beautiful chaotic mess that can only end in tears)

Fingon/Varda (don’t ask: even I’m not sure—something something gil galad’s associated w/ stars and no one knows who his mom is and I like me some valar with greek god leanings)

Aegnor/Haleth (battle bros to lovers, bc haleth won’t take no for an answer like andreth did 😒)

Argon/Amarie (falling in love with your cousin’s ex was not the intention after being the first one killed/sent back. but she’s finally moving on from finrod and you’ve grown to care for her company more than you thought…)

Daeron/Beren (beren didn’t deserve luthien—this started as a joke but these two seriously deserve each other in all their squabbling glory)

Mablung/Nienor (they just. deserve happiness and peace. and lots of adorable peredhel kids. please)

Eowyn/Merry (same as above, but they have the benefit of having an entire shire to rebuild and different cultures to find wonder in and grow to love as much as their own)

idk I might be missing some but these are my thoughts on my main Tolkien rarepairs

[justallihere]

im joining the train of being physically ill and your fic giving me the motivation to continue with life (allergies and contact dermatitis are kicking my ass. my eyelids are swollen)

I love how soft these two were for each other in this chapter.

XADEN IS WHIPPED. I feel like if he could live in/under Violet's skin he would 💀

exhibit a

“I can kill him for you,” he offered. 

exhibit b

“No, I don’t want you to move,” Xaden grumbled

exhibit c

“I’ll do whatever you want, my darling wife.”

exhibit d

he was sure his heart stopped beating in his chest for a moment before it resumed its rhythm again. 

exhibit e

Something warm bloomed in his chest at the sight of the ring on his finger, a physical representation of the two of them twined together, from now until they entered whatever life or world followed this one. 

Xaden made Vi blush SO MUCH this chapter and I'm eating it up!!!!!

This line was so funny 😭😭😭. Xaden is such a tease

“Yes, your majesty?” She scowled

Not me my heart breaking for younger Xaden. I hope Vi gives him enough hugs to heal his inner child

Being a dragon rider was one of the only things he had ever chosen for himself, even if, technically, he wasn’t supposed to have it. 

SOMEONE HUG GARRICK PLS. The guilt he probably feels, my poor baby 😭😭

“Can I not be worried about her?” Garrick asked sharply. “She is my queen, Xaden. She isn’t just your wife, she isn’t just Violet. Not anymore. She’s important to all of us, and I have a duty to her. You’re not the only one who failed to keep her safe.” 

EXCUSE ME??? ARE THEY FLIRTING? YOURE HONOR I THINK THEYRE FLIRTING. The second i read that he wanted to take her somewhere outside, I KNEW IT WAS HIS FAVORITE HILLTOP!!!! This moment was so special/monumental for them 😭. Xaden has come so far, from not wanting to share this sacred space/wanting to hate her on principle, to loving Violet and willing to do anything to make her happy (Again, mans is WHIPPED)

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mrs. Riorson?” Xaden asked in a low voice.  She shivered. “Maybe.” 

HIS RING??? HIS RING????? Of course, Vi noticed how obsessed X is with her hair. nothing gets past her

Xaden's unwavering faith in Vi is so 👌 I dont have words to describe what it is but its top tier husband energy

The fact that Violet reads smut confirms that she's just one of the girls AND Xaden picking the book up to read it ??? Book boyfriend material (Even though he's already her husband)

Questions:

When will Brennan get his head out of the sand and make up his siblings? Stick Xaden on him because B is making Vi and Mira sad!!!!

when was the last time Xaden got drunk/felt comfortable enough to do that?

was the story about malek and his consort's homage to Hades/Persephone but also a reflection of Vi/X's relationship?

She was Amari’s youngest, her most beautiful and most treasured child --- is this foreshadowing to how Lilith views Vi? bc if so... I'm sobbing in a corner

Omg feel better!! Stop being sick!! Why are you all sick!! (normally I’m the one who’s sick all the time 😂)

Waterparks has like dozens of obsessive love songs that I could quote but there’s a line in “I felt younger when we met” (ironically a break up song lol) that says “you moved in behind my eyes and built yourself a shrine” that I think about a lot in terms of how Xaden feels about Violet. Just like, a part of her lives with him permanently now and he can’t and doesn’t want to get rid of it and she’s all he knows and he’s wholly devoted to her

I’m LIVING for the fact that you came with evidence about how whipped he is lmao

They are in fact flirting, can confirm!

To answer your questions: Yes, Brennan will get his act together. The last time Xaden got drunk was, uh. . . so many moons ago I do not have an exact time, but years. And yes! It was a way to say that not only do people see their relationship differently depending on what they’re looking for, but Xaden views himself so differently from the way Violet sees him.

And yeah to that last one as well. I mean she loves all her kids beyond reason, but there’s something in the way she views Violet that’s so special to me

[atopvisenyashill]

the ‘what’s the worst things my favs have done’ is hilarious becuz it’s either things that are acceptable in medieval fantasy (murder with dragons, executions, lying, blackmail) and then like, actual crimes like r*pe and shit like that.

rhaenyra out here calling for the heads of her allies after suspecting they’re on some bullshit and aegon can’t keep his hands to himself nor his dick in his pants, then there’s fucking maegor and my beautiful queen rhaena who did nothing wrong ever.

and then dany trying, like literally trying and then failing, and then fucking theon being fucking theon.

the range, man, the range.

No exactly aksjdjd it’s like when you’re talking about bran, the worst thing he’s done is obviously the hodor mindrape, which is a completely fantasy based crime, and you compare to davos, whose crimes are more similar to ned in that it’s about how he’s rationalizing the harm the feudal system does & how he’s just SO hypocritical about stannis exhibiting the exact same violence as the other lords + i guess like, being kind of a deadbeat husband? but then you get to ROBERT and it’s like WHERE DO WE BEGIN AKSJDJD and how do we define “worst thing” which IS the same thing as dany funny enough bc like do you weigh the structural harm over the warring or over the interpersonal violence??

with robert it’s like……idk you could probably group the awful husband + awful dad stuff together but his complete inability to actually LEAD & taking the easy way out from the trident incident down to his handling of the lannister-stark beef when ned is injured is SUCH a big moral failing to me because of the combination of it being disastrous politically AND personally. like, ned is your BEST FRIEND and you put him in this powder keg of a situation with your insane & evil family that you drive CRAZY and he can’t even do ned the decency of siding with him when his son starts and loses a fight against a toddler & his wife is asking for one of their pets to be murdered in retaliation. like bro what was the point of even asking ned to come in this case. AND A WAR STARTS OVER THIS.

but it’s crazy to put that side by side with “eight year old invades & controls the mind of his cognitively disabled companion” you know. i don’t want to understate that what bran is doing here is a gross violation of hodor’s personhood & he is old enough imo to realize “hodor does not like when i do this, i should talk to jojen about this and see if it’s okay” especially when this is something luwin scolds him about & bran feels a lil quirk of guilt which says to me it’s clear he understand the lesson of “you shouldn’t be treating hodor in this way.”

and then there’s like, sansa & arya who, in incredibly stressful situations, kinda reactively Do A Thing that gets someone else killed. that’s not the same at ALL aksjd bc with bran this is a pattern of egregious behavior that he should understand is wrong and sansa & arya just reacting bad in a situation. oh sansa gets wine drunk & reacts wonky during a fight. oh sansa pulls a ouat snow white & tattles about something she doesn’t realize is so serious to a Trusted Adult. oh arya is running for her life and accidentally gives the stable boy a killing blow. oh arya on the run for her life during a horrific war basically gets scooped up like one of those stolen orphan war adoptees you read about except instead of a wasp family it’s an assassin’s guild. see hers is just as absurd as bran’s akskdkd just in the opposite way. bran absolutely did that shit (but LISTEN-), arya is innocent your honor!!

[soup-of-the-daisies]

staghunter (orion/harry) enthusiast here who hates every single fic for them because the meta sucks or is plotless in general but I didn't know how to elaborate on it until I saw your post on how their dynamic, at it's best, would probably be literally just prongsfoot and it busted my third eye wide open. best friends who are soooo incredibly intimate physically and emotionally that you could call them lovers but really, even that label is inadequate. they would wear each other every day if they could type of friendship. faces so close they make other people uncomfortable, but also the energy in the room would feel weird if they weren't on each other's laps 24/7.

anyway, my two cents— for prongsfoot, i do agree that james as an only child would be more possessive, marking sirius liberally through action such as biting, sitting close, etc., the clingiest limpet in any universe... girl!james would absolutely be the girl best friend who would get so much hate from sirius' partners bc she acts like that. lesbian prongsfoot who need to provide heirs for their family would definitely put their husbands through it (if they could invent magical IVF to cut the middleman entirely they would)

while for staghunter it would definitely be orion, since harry has had the experience/memory of ron & hermione's friendship... he'd be a bit more repressed with his emotions as a posh bloke in post-ww2 britain, so he'd mark his territory thru official documentation. photos, paintings, a building donated in their honor, a name change, blood pacts published in the paper, soul bonds duly registered, another bonding ritual that may be slightly illegal but visible to anyone in the know, and so on. I like to think that orion would be a product of their time regardless of gender so skinship isn't as big, but then they don't need to be, as harry gets and appreciates the big grand gestures

(in any universe though, slash, genderbent, or otherwise, if harry and ron are alive together in any timeline they'd be the codependent ones im so serious that matters to me)

Hello anon. I love you.

I agree with you on all points. There’s a reason why I’m incredibly fond of Prongsfoot, Ronarry, and Harmione: codependent best friends to lovers where nothing really has to change, they just kiss (more), and in the case of Ronarry and Harmione Harry becomes a bit more physically affectionate… yeah. I also love it when Harry’s James-genes pop out in Ronarry and Harmione and he does ridiculous things to prove his love and adoration (I’ve seen one fic where that happened, for Harmione), because Harry would, you know? He’d give them the moon if he could.

And yes, Orion would be the James in the Staghunter (I actually associate that one more with Orion/James, but I can’t think of another one on the fly so I’ll go with Staghunter for Orion/Harry here), but then more of a product of his time and childhood. It’s the mutual kind of adoration you also see in Prongsfoot. Fancy robes, jewellery, but also ‘official’ means like (as you said) documentation, announcements, blood-pacts… they’re in each other’s pockets at school, absolutely obsessed with one another.

I like the way the Orion&Harry bromance is characterised in wear me like a locket around your throat, though Orion is a bit too… sweet? I suppose? For my tastes. He’s quite the bean in that one, even though he does get a lot of depth (and the fic hints at as to why he became a horrible father), but the codependency and mutual love between him and Harry is so lovely. It’s other/better half to the max. I have my favourites (for het Staghunter, Future’s Past is a good one; it’s AU enough for the characterisations to be believable) and there are ones that feel Too Much and Wrong, but that’s what you get with a rarepair I think. I also need good/fun Tom Riddle characterisation if he’s present, so that also makes me pickier.

So yeah ♥️♥️ Thank you sm for your ask, I love talking about them. They’re not popular enough I swear (even in the bromance way), despite the fics often being quite popular.

[bihanspookies]

I’ll probably never do anything for them since I don’t really have them fleshed out but I wanted to post my 2 demon slayer oc’s since I caught up with the latest season and I’m living in fear for the movies

Making two sep posts since there’s minor spoilers for Infinity Castle in Azusa’s ⬇️

Name: Azusa

Age: 22

Height: 5’8

Breathing Technique: I originally had her as the Lotus Hashira but then I read the manga and found out about Kanae and went OOP gotta change it lmao. I thought about her being a Crystal Hashira, derived/trained from Gyomei but I never fully decided.

Personality: She’s very calm, cool and collected, kinda like the mediator and has a “mom” presence about her. Whenever inosuke was being Chaotic, she’d walk over, place her hand on his head and go “Now, now, let’s calm down a little hm?”

And as much as inosuke wants to be like 🤬🤬🤬, she has this calming presence around so he grumbles and is like “I’ll try my best I GUESS.”

History: im 100% Just copying and pasting with minor edits what i sent to my friend bc i don’t want to write it properly lmao.

So her family and the Wisteria estate were close friends. When she was 10 her family was killed by demons but she survived and the Wisteria family took her in bc: Friendship™️ and they had a son who she was really close to and they were best friends and whatnot.

Growing up he always said he wanted to become a Hashira bc that’s who his family protects and he wants to honor them, so it was his ultimate dream. And when she was 16 the son admitted to being in love with her but she didn’t reciprocate. So even though he was hurt, he accepted her decision and went off by himself at night to have some alone time.

W E L L He dies By demons And Azusa blames herself bc she tells herself that if she just told him she loved him back then he wouldn’t have gone off on his own and gotten killed. Which is one of the reasons she went off to become a Hashira so she could protect her loved ones and also fulfill the son’s dream . So she goes off, joins demon corps And it’s all good and dandy.

She’s super focused on achieving Hashira status And then she meets: Rengoku And at first she was friendly with him, ya know being civil but then he kept being extra nice to her and just treating her so sweet etc etc etc that she could not help but fall in love with him even tho she was scared bc she’s just reminded of The Son.

They eventually start “dating” but in secret and the only person who’s aware of it is Ubuyashiki.

First Kiss: Their whole relationship, they’re basically dating without actually saying it. One night they’re alone and Rengoku just suddenly asks “my love, will you do me the honor of being mine?”

And Azusa just looks at him and goes “if you’re calling me “my love” then you already know the answer. I’m already yours.”

And then she gently grabs his face and gives him a Kiss™️

Mugen Train Arc: I decided that Azusa is not there on the train but back at home. I also decided that they were engaged and her ring is on her finger while Rengoku’s is a necklace. Rengoku tells Tanjiro to tell his wife that even though they weren’t officially married, it felt like they were every second they spent together. Tanjiro doesn’t understand at first but then Rengoku pulls out his necklace and he recognizes it as the same ring on Azusa’s hand.

Very much movie scene in my head when I pictured this but when the other Hashira find out about Rengoku’s death, Azusa’s crow is the one to come tell her. You never fully see her face, just her walking with the camera stopping right under her eyes or an aerial view from behind as her crow flies next to her head. She gets the news and clutches her ring to her chest.

Infinity Castle Arc: Tanjiro and Giyu are the ones that go and fight Akaza and Azusa is there too. So when Akaza sees her he’s like “and who might you be?”. And she’s staring at him and says “my name is Azusa Rengoku, you killed my husband”

She’s about to just go straight in and murk but then this other demon shows up like “no no sister, you gotta go through me first”. So Azusa ends up fighting that demon while tanjiro and giyu fight Akaza.

But long story short the demon incapacitates her and is all “I think you’d make a good edition to the team, let’s see how you handle killing your teammates” and then forces her to drink muzans blood, turning her into a demon. She’s struggling to not fight tanjiro and the others but either he or someone else has to kill her bc it's too much to fight her/keep her away while also fighting Akaza.

They successfully kill her but right before she dies she sees Rengoku above her and holding his hand out for her to take.

[gaycrittercentral]

I would love to see your ideas!

AAA ok you’re the only one that asked but I wanna post em anyway myehehehhe

So!! Here’s some AUs that I have descriptions but not fics drafted up for, if there’s any y’all might like to see feel free to vote for them :> here’s some summaries:

Titanic AU where Sam and Max win a ticket to the ship instead of Jack, immediately adopt Rose, and proceed to teach her the ways of comic mischief and goblinery before almost drowning shfhshdhs

305 but the Maxlings are there and develop a psychic power each to help Sam save their dad :’D this one’s not as fleshed out, more like concepts that I enjoy thinking about

This one’s a little out of nowhere but I used to love Fatal Frame, so I have one based on Crimson Butterfly bc that game made me crazy as a teenager lmao. Sam and Max get lost in a bizarre, haunted village where Max gets possessed by a vengeful spirit and they have to resort to unusual, photography-related means to get her to fuck off

Ok ok hear me out. Instead of brothers who get mistaken for a couple, a couple who occasionally get mistaken for brothers. AKA Supernatural gets really really funny when you swap out Sam and Dean for a pair of gay animals who only know how to argue for the bit and solve every problem with cartoon shenanigans gdjdhjsgsjdhsbs (also we sub out Cas for Superball, angel of the door LMAOOOO)

‘Nother video game idea, anybody remember Beyond: Two Souls? Just me? Anyway AU based on that where Sam has been haunted by his mischievous little pal ever since they were too young to remember, leading them to be studied and used by the CIA and hurled into battles to keep the real world and the afterlife separate. Comes with about a million different endings, a la the original game!

And lastly, a 305 AU where they manage to shrink Max down and dampen his psychic energy instead of nuking him, giving Sam more time to try to turn him back to normal. Entirely based on the thought that being saved by the power of love would piss Max off lmaoooooo OOP wait not entirely I just remembered I was really inspired by this piece from @bitterartregret!! Super cute go check it out ^^

I love all of these dearly and would be honored if anybody wanted to hear about them :’) If you like more than one, then A) I’m screech and B) vote for the one you’d rather see first!! Ok here’s the poll have at it should thou wish’st to behold

(Also there’s a good chance I’ll end up posting most if not all of these eventually \_:)_/ I just think they’re fun)

[lightwise]

Character ask game: Commander Cody, because I love him my honor.

Look at his knife.

Greetings Cody's tired wife.

Cody

One aspect about them I love - His gentleness and kindness. He is SO obviously Obi-Wan’s Commander (whether you ship Codywan or not). The fact that even when his chip is activated (I assume) when we see him in TBB season 2, and he is still working with the Empire not bc he wants some kind of power but bc he genuinely wants to believe that they are making the galaxy a better place…and slowly realizing they are not. The way he wants to promise peace to Tawni Ames and lays down his weapon in the hopes of negotiating some sort of treaty. The way he hesitates to obey a direct order from a “commanding” officer (don’t get me started on Grotton and whether or not that was really an order…he’s infuriating to me), and Crosshair covers his back by executing said order bc Cody couldn’t bring himself to do it. I think it’s been so many years since the last of Cody’s story was told in Revenge of the Sith, that when The Solitary Clone aired I expected to see a man who had fully accepted the brainwashing from the Empire and was just doing his job. But to see his desire for real justice and peace come through…it was just beautiful. He’s a good man. 

one aspect i wish more people understood about them - I’m later to the Cody appreciation table so I doubt that there’s anything I have to add here that other people haven’t already figured out. I just really loved seeing the depth of his character we got to see in The Solitary Clone - as a soldier, as a leader, as a fighter, as a brother to Crosshair, his inner turmoil, and his morality all shining through. 

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character - at some point the chip’s hold must have loosened on him and I wonder if he woke up in a cold sweat one night all of a sudden realizing what he did (or thinks he did) to Obi-Wan. Since they almost had him written into the Kenobi show, I definitely think he spent a lot of time wondering if Obi-Wan survived, where he might be if he was still alive, blaming himself for what he thinks was his decision to try and kill him. It must have haunted him in the back of his mind. 

one character i love seeing them interact with - Rex. Their brotherly bond and bantering is so much fun to see when they’re on missions together. I love how surprised Cody is when Rex starts going into crazy problem solving mode a la Anakin, and Cody will at first be shocked but then be like welp okay I guess we’re going with this, hope it works! 

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more - Hunter. I would love to know exactly how Cody met the Bad Batch, which of the members he got to know first, if he kept an eye on them when they were cadets or if he heard of them once they were out doing missions for the first time. Maybe he knew between Kenobi and Skywalker that he or Rex may someday need to have a chaotic, “get things done however they can” squad on hand in case their generals needed an extraction team available 😂

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character - He always took care of Rex when they were cadets and forming friendships with Wolffe, Bly, etc. He had to have been in a somewhat lonely position as a marshal commander…there are few other clones at that rank with him, and other than Obi-Wan, Rex, and the other leaders that would have been considered his “peers”, it must have been difficult to always be in a position of authority over almost everyone he knew. And yet he always seems to be kind and generous to those around him. 

I hope I did your clone husband justice 😉 ☀️