#But have you ever met someone so charismatic in every single way

[faeiapalette]

🤔

[okay-babe]

Imagine alastor thinks his wife is just the most perfect, angelic being he’s ever met, so he’s downright shocked to fight out she also ended up in hell going “yeah I killed a man once” (he falls even more in love)

A Good Thing, Indeed

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, alastor and reader are married, angelic reader, protective/possessive alastor, brief human alastor x human reader, fluff, very mild angst note: I went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you enjoy, anon <3 Find a sequel (of sorts) to this fic, here.

Alastor had never quite understood how someone like him had ended up with a woman like you.

You were soft and understanding, utterly ceaseless in your kindness and love of near anyone who crossed your path, a true saint to be sure.

Alastor on the other hand, had always been quite the opposite.

Where you were soft, your lover was unyielding, where you were understanding, he was impatient, and when it came to the capacity for kindness and love within his heart, many would have gone on record stating that there was much to be desired in that regard.

Yet, even still, you chose him, and he, you.

Every. Single. Time.

It was as if the two of you were meant to be.

The proud and charismatic up and coming host of a brand new radio show, and the modest and soft spoken kindergarten teacher that was ever present upon his arm.

To Alastor, you were everything and more, and whether he was willing to admit it aloud or not, he all but worshiped the very ground that you walked upon.

There was so very little worth caring for in a world like the one that he lived in, and yet there you were, a shining beacon of light and hope to keep him from losing his mind over it all (well, at least in part, though he knew deep down that a portion had been missing since long before you'd made your way into his life).

For all of this, Alastor praised you and your love ceaselessly, his appreciation for your union a vast and endless thing that filled him with a sense of pride stronger than any other he'd felt before.

And how could it not?

You were his wife.

You!

The beautiful kindergarten teacher who worked in the public school just down the street from his broadcasting station, the one with the smile that lit up a room and the laugh that could make a man blush.

The one with the students who sung her praises to their parents during pick up and the coworkers turned friends who would utterly gush about her at even the briefest mention of her name.

You.

The woman that no one believed had gotten New Orleans' most prominent radio host to settle down after only just a year of courting, and whose stunning church wedding had been the talk of the town.

You were perfect, you were lovely, and the sweetest part of it all was that you bore his last name.

And oh, what whiplash that must have caused for those who hadn't known of your courtship earlier on. It nearly sent Alastor into a tizzy just imagining it.

The sweet, adoring woman that your son calls his teacher is also the wife of the ever unreadable and notably cold radio host from just down the street that scarcely any could say they truly knew?

How scandalous! Whatever is a woman like her doing with a man like him?!

Well, the answer, quite honestly, was being doted upon nigh endlessly.

If you wanted for even the smallest of things, it would be yours in an instant, and if you desired even the most useless of luxuries, he would have spared no expense to have it in your hands by the end of the day.

And even beyond that, there was the persistent desire to stay by your side, his presence always guaranteed the very moment you mentioned want for it.

An ice cream social at the school where you'd be meeting your new students and their parents? Alastor was there, conversing politely with a few mothers on the difficulties of parenting (in spite of his notable lack of children), making nearly everyone wonder what the hell a famous radio host was doing at the local elementary school.

Visiting Mimzy at her slightly sleazy little lounge in the shadier side of the city? Alastor was there, dressed to the nines, looking immensely out of place as you danced the night away with your friends (and him of course) to your little heart's content.

His love for you was nearly as endless as yours was for the very world beneath your feet, and in spite of himself he couldn't help but fall deeper and deeper in love at every borderline naive action you took.

You want to buy that man a drink because he looks lonely? Certainly darling, your husband would be happy to scare him off all night as the fool tries to make unwanted advances at you that he thinks are warranted thanks to your kindness.

You want to pick a fight with the burly man whose house is on your walk to work because he's been shouting cruel things at his dog nearly every morning for the past several weeks? Oh of course, just let Alastor prepare to use his most unsettling smile while he reaches for the leather sheathed knife he keeps attached to his belt so he can wordlessly threaten the oaf without you ever even realizing.

And so, knowing all of that and having lived such a love-filled few years at your side, how could Alastor ever have believed he might one day see you again once he came to in Hell shortly after his demise?

The short answer was, he couldn't.

And though he would never have been willing to admit such a thing aloud, it utterly shattered a portion of his heart to know he would never see your sweet smile or hear your perfect laugh ever again.

And to imagine what your reaction may have been once the police had informed you of all that he had done?

Well, he tried his best not to.

Because while he couldn't bring himself to regret those he had killed and the things he had done, he did regret having been left with no choice but to keep such a thing from you and leave you with such a mess upon his death.

Certainly you had deserved better, that much he knew.

But there was absolutely nothing he could do about that now.

Or, at least, that's what he had led himself to believe.

Until one day, he'd been broken out of his typical morning routine of brewing his black coffee and digging into a freshly caught deer by the sound of knocking at his door.

There were very few people who knew of where Alastor lived at this point, with him being multiple years removed from life and having firmly cemented himself within society as a powerful and merciless overlord, so honestly it hadn't come as very much of a surprise when he opened the door and found an old friend waiting rather impatiently on the other side.

Mimzy.

Having arrived in Hell not very long after the radio host, the former flapper, (who he had actually met through you), had become a familiar face throughout the past few years as he'd tried to grow accustomed to life without his darling wife at his side.

It was nice, in a way, to have that reminder of you near when he wished for it to be, and so he allowed the sinner to call him something like a friend and offered her protection when it was convenient enough for him that it didn't prove to be a hassle.

Although, today of all days the overlord was certainly a little less than pleased to see Mimzy's familiar face at his doorstep, and he was reasonably certain that she knew why that was.

It was your former anniversary after all, and today would have been your tenth year of marriage had he only lived long enough to reach such a landmark achievement with you.

A smile, strained and thin, descended upon his lips, and, in spite of his feelings, Alastor remained as cordial as ever, albeit rather cold with his words.

"Mimzy, my dear! How wonderful to see you! Whatever could possibly be so important as to have you at my door on a day like today?"

There was a certain level of threat to his tone that no doubt left the woman standing before him floundering for a few seconds, before finally, she mustered up her reply, her smile ever so slightly less confident than before.

"Alastor, just the fella that I was lookin' for!"

The sinner began, placing her right hand upon her hip as she inspected the condition of the nails on her left,

"Now I know ya like to be left alone and all on days like this, but I've got a surprise for ya back at my place that I promise you're gonna wanna see a-s-a-p."

She said with her typical air of confidence, immediately causing the Radio Demon to roll his eyes in response, his facade of interest slipping ever so slightly before he seemed to catch himself once more, ever the gentleman.

"Oh do you now? Well, as utterly transfixed as I am over this little mystery of yours, I'm afraid that I just don't have the time to stop by today. Lot's of things to prepare for the upcoming broad-"

"Alastor."

Mimzy said sternly, cutting the overlord in question off rather uncharacteristically with a glare of her own.

"I know damn well that you don't got nothin' planned for the day, so don't you start fibbin', mista, I can see right through ya!"

She began, quickly changing the subject when she seemed to recall exactly who she was talking to at the increasing sound of static.

"Look, I didn't come here to argue with ya or nothin', so you do whatever it is that you wanna do. I just wanted to come over and warn ya that if you don't come by for a visit by the end of the day you're gonna feel like a real fool, okay?"

She emphasized her warning with a dramatized raise of her brow before she grinned rather wickedly and stepped down off of his doorstep, wiggling her fingers in a teasing little wave as she climbed into the back of the very same taxi she must have used to get to his dwellings in the first place.

"I'll see ya around dollface!"

She called out as the car pulled away, leaving Alastor with quite a few more questions than he'd had upon her already unplanned arrival.

What a fantastic start to one's day.

By the time that Alastor made the decision to actually stop by Mimzy's lounge, it was already dark outside, the subtle chirping of crickets reminding him briefly of home as he walked toward his destination, ever a fan of the more simplistic methods of transportation.

He thought of the sounds of crickets and all of the moments with you that their seemingly endless chirps had backed until their sounds faded away with the increasing sounds of the busier section of the city, wherein Mimzy's place was located.

Just as sleazy and sketchy as it had been above, so it was below, and Alastor felt a sudden sense of longing and familiarity as he stepped inside, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of ever so slightly out of tune jazz music reminding him of his days of swing dancing with you on the cracked dance floor of the place Mimzy had owned and operated in life.

The Radio Demon had only just begun to contemplate what you might have thought of a place like this one when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name, and he turned to find the lounge's owner walking quickly toward him, a wide grin that nearly rivaled his own splitting her cheeks.

"Well would you look who it is, Alastor the Radio Demon here in my lil' lounge, what a lucky lady I must be!"

Mimzy teased as she shouted over the obnoxiously loud music, immediately forcing the man in question to hold back another instinctual roll of his eyes.

"Oh, nonsense, I should think that luck has very little to do with it, my dear."

Alastor drawled, dragging his gaze downward to find his friend standing there, all but vibrating upon her feet, clearly excited by something, though he couldn't quite fathom what in Hell it could possibly be.

That is, until he heard another familiar voice pipe up from somewhere behind him, this one far less anticipated than the last, and by a rather significant margin at that.

"Mimzy?"

It called, an edge of stress to it that had the corners of the overlord's smile twitching downward ever so slightly for the briefest of moments.

Alastor watched as the ex flapper standing before him grinned widely in response to his barely noticeable reaction, her eyes shining as she allowed the person speaking to continue with their question.

"Who did you say the whiskey on the rocks was for?"

The lounge's owner hopped up onto a stool beside where she had been standing, gesturing to the space at the bar near where Alastor was still firmly planted, the ears atop his head twitching ever so slightly as they took in the sound of a voice he'd never thought he'd hear again for the very first time since he'd awoken with them camouflaged within his hair.

"Right here, doll. Speakin' of which, why dontcha c'mere and meet one of my regulars, huh?"

She asked as casually as she could manage, gesturing slightly for the still reeling sinner standing beside the bar to take a seat, which, to her surprise, he actually did, eyes seeking out the source of the voice he was hearing as if in utter disbelief.

And then, much to his shock, there you were.

Sure, you looked different as a sinner, but he would recognize you anywhere, and it certainly helped that your beautiful smile was the very same as he remembered it to be whenever he closed his eyes and found you there waiting for him.

Busy with what was likely a fairly large number of orders that your fellow bartender seemed to be doing very little to try and keep up with, you didn't seem to notice him at first, walking quickly toward your old friend with a glass of whiskey in hand, moving to place it down in front of the ever so prominent Radio Demon absentmindedly when suddenly, you froze, your hand still wrapped around the chilled cup.

The two of you stared at one another for several long moments, eyes widened and breaths halting entirely, until finally Mimzy spoke up from Alastor's right, her laughter obnoxious beside his ear, though he could scarcely bring himself to care with his gaze locked so heavily onto yours.

"Happy anniversary, ya lovebirds! Didn't expect that, didja?!"

She all but cackled, causing you to break eye contact with your husband to gawk at your friend.

"Wait a second, you knew he was here the whole time and didn't tell me?!"

You cried, hand flying to your mouth as Alastor began to regard the woman sitting beside him with a hugely threatening glare, the frightfulness of which was only increased by his unyielding grin, which was beginning to appear more and more malicious by the second.

"Woah woah woah, hold your horses!"

Mimzy shouted, waving her hands all about as if in surrender as she looked back and forth between the two of you nervously,

"She only just got down here this mornin' I swear!"

She explained hurriedly to the overlord beside her, causing the man's eye to twitch with effort as he struggled not to tear his old friend limb from limb while her entire bar watched on in horror.

Alastor tapped one clawed finger against the bar in front of him, his sharpened teeth appearing even more threatening than usual at his apparent anger over the situation at hand.

"And you didn't think, my dear,"

He began, his voice low,

"That I may have wanted to know sooner?"

The sound of static overtook the lounge as the sinner's anger increased with each word he said, causing everyone, including those hired to play the live music, to flee out the front door, leaving the trio to their own devices within the confines of the now empty space.

This fact worked extremely well for Alastor, who was only growing more enraged with each passing second as he considered the implication of Mimzy's actions further.

Not only had this woman, someone who had dared call him a friend for so many years, betrayed him by keeping your presence unknown, but she had also clearly employed you at her poor excuse for a lounge, and was now acting as if she had done him a favor by allowing him to be in the presence of the very woman he'd married.

The urge to rip the sinner to shreds with his very own claws was immense, and perhaps he even would have done so had it not been for a gentle hand coming to rest upon his forearm, the weight of it felt even through his shirt and coat.

Immediately, he stiffened, the familiarity of the touch so jarring that his previous thoughts of murder ceased within an instant as he turned his head to face you properly.

There, illuminated by the dim and yellowed lights of the bar, stood his wife, a woman who he had never expected to see again after all that he had done.

What good deed must he have committed in life to deserve such a blessing as this?

Surely there was some kind of mistake and someone would be descending from the heavens to collect you soon, an angel sent to Hell on accident by way of some great failure on Saint Peter's fault.

Your husband stared at you for a few moments, as if afraid you might disappear if he so much as blinked, before finally, you spoke up, your lips curving into a slightly nervous smile.

"Let her explain?"

You asked gently, taking up the very same tone you used to when asking your beloved to make an exception to one of his many strict internalized rules for your benefit.

'Stay home with me?'

'Give him a chance?'

'A slightly less violent solution, perhaps?'

(the latter of which he'd heard more often than he was willing to admit).

And this time, as always, he caved almost immediately, giving a rather stern nod of his head before looking toward Mimzy with an obviously strained smile on his lips.

She didn't have long, that was for sure.

If she wanted to explain, she'd better do so quickly.

And that much must have been clear, because the ex flapper started talking just about as fast as she could manage while still remaining intelligible.

And what a tale she spun, indeed.

With hurried words and a remarkably nervous expression the likes of which neither you nor your husband had ever seen Mimzy wear before, the sinner apologized profusely for not telling either of you sooner, promising that she had only been trying to make it a surprise in celebration of your anniversary.

Apparently, she had vastly overestimated how persuasive she could be, and had assumed (rather incorrectly) that Alastor would be much more urgent in his arrival to her lounge after she'd paid him a visit, meaning she hadn't exactly intended to have kept the two waiting so long for the "grand reveal" of her surprise.

And, slowly but surely, as Mimzy explained her thought process, your confusion and your husband's apparent anger all but melted away, both reactions coming to be replaced with something located somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

How very like your friend it was to meddle in such a manner, after all.

You'd missed this.

(Alastor wished dearly that he could say the same, but having been stuck alone with it for several years, he couldn't quite relate.)

Still, even he had to admit that Mimzy's actions were something far more similar to misguided kindness than intentional ill will.

Though, there was still one issue that was still bothering him...

"Mimzy."

Alastor interrupted the sinner in the middle of her ramble, watching as she immediately shut her mouth and looked up at him, a familiar bout of nervous laughter falling from her lips as she wrung her hands together.

Seeing that she was paying attention, the overlord continued,

"I understand what you were going for with your..." He trailed off for a moment before hearing you pipe up from where you stood on the other side of the bar,

"Efforts."

How amusing, it seemed that even after years of separation, not even death could sever the almost supernatural ability you had to understand what your husband was trying to say before even he truly did.

Alastor nodded,

"Exactly. But that being said, I struggle to understand one thing."

He leaned toward his old friend slightly, watching her eyes widen as he did so, clearly unsure of what was going to happen next.

"Why, pray tell, my dear, is my wife spending her precious time working at your lounge if you had every intention of returning her to me?"

The possessive tone to his voice made you blush, eyes moving to the ground as you awaited Mimzy's response.

She was quick to answer.

"Great question, dollface!"

She laughed nervously,

"I uh, I guess I kinda figured she'd know if she was down here then you would be too, so I wanted to give her a little bit of a distraction... and maybe get some extra help for a few hours in the meantime."

She admitted quietly, though by the time she was finished speaking, Alastor wasn't paying her much mind anymore, his mind now occupied with what he considered to be a far more pressing issue.

Because now that Mimzy mentioned it...

"Dearest,"

He began, immediately catching your attention as he turned to face you fully, allowing you to take in the sight of him and his new "look" for the first time since your arrival.

You would be lying if you said you weren't a fan, as different as it may have been.

"Speaking of 'down here',"

Alastor continued, amusement dancing within his eyes,

"What exactly are you doing in a place like Hell?"

Your gaze moved downward once more at that, and you cleared your throat awkwardly as you tried to find anything else to focus on.

Eventually though, you gave up, and forced yourself to meet your husband's gaze once more.

"I uh, I killed a parent..."

You muttered under your breath, immediately causing Alastor's eyes to widen slightly in surprise, one of his ears twitching slightly atop his head.

"Pardon?"

He asked in utter disbelief, unable to even begin to comprehend what he was hearing.

You, his beautiful and darling wife, had killed a parent of one of the children you taught?

Utterly unbelievable, perish the thought.

You sighed, crossing your arms in a mix of embarrassment and frustration,

"I killed a parent, Al. Lucy and Arnold's father. He was beating on them and their mama something fierce, and I saw the opportunity to put a stop to it one night when walking over to the station after work... He went down the alley between the grocers and the tailor to take a shortcut home or something like that, and I just followed him before I even knew what was really going on..."

You sounded hesitant as you spoke, eyes downcast once more until without a word, your husband pressed his gloved index finger to your chin, raising your gaze to his own once more so you could see the utter awe present there.

He was positively enamored.

"You killed Harry Wells?"

He asked, shock still coloring his tone as he watched you for your reaction.

Slowly, after a few seconds of contemplation, you nodded, cheeks still pink as you did your best to keep from trying to avoid Alastor's heavy gaze.

"I uh, yeah. I did."

The overlord sitting across from you chuckled softly, a sound that slowly grew in volume and exuberance until he was laughing outright, the familiar sound music to your ears even as he sighed and wiped a tear from his eye afterward, something he had done often in life.

He grinned even wider at you than before, the pride in his eyes obvious as he shook his head as if still in disbelief.

"And to think,"

He began, reaching across the counter to grab both of your hands so he could pull you closer, your forearms resting against the bar countertop.

"I hadn't thought it possible to love you any more than I already did."

You laughed at that, pressing your forehead against your husband's with a sigh,

"Well in that case, I suppose it's a good thing that I have all of eternity to prove you wrong, huh?"

Alastor chuckled softly, humming as he took in the sight of you, as if trying to commit each individual detail to memory.

"A good thing, indeed, dear heart."

[greengoblinswifey]

Yearning—Luigi Mangione x Fem!Reader

summary— you’ve had a crush on Luigi Mangione, the popular frat boy for three years. after attending his engineering club, you both finally confess. based on this and this request.

warnings— fluff, luigi is a sweetheart, thigh riding, praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie.

Luigi Mangione. God, where to start? Jackie Kennedy’s letter about JFK came to mind whenever he would infiltrate your thoughts.

“And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that he was the only one for me.”

“He was charismatic, magnetic, electric and everybody knew it.”

“When he walked in every woman’s head turned, everybody stood up to talk to him.”

That summed up how you felt about him. That summed up him as a person.

You and Luigi started attending Penn at the same time. He became a frat boy but unlike his fraternity brothers, he was different. He was kind, extremely intellectual, respectful and everyone seemed to love him. Most days, you sat in the far corner of the library reading, watching Luigi as he studied with his friends or came in to do research.

Whenever you would glimpse him around campus he was always smiling, surrounded by friends and sometimes even professors. He was involved in clubs and societies, assisted his peers and even volunteered. He was a model student and it was clear he was from a good upbringing. Everyone loved him and was interested in what he had to say. He was such a people person and in the best way possible. With all those extraordinary characteristics, it was no wonder you developed a crush on him.

His dark curls were beautiful and at times you imagined what it would feel like to run your fingers through them. His thick eyebrows made him even more handsome and you thought that especially when they were not plucked and developing into a uni brow. His strong jawline, his nose—he had a facial harmony unlike any other man you had ever seen. Every single part of him was admirable, he was exactly the kind of man you craved. You’d never met anyone like Luigi.

And he had never met anyone like you. But you didn’t know that—at least not yet.

Throughout your three years at the university, you were too shy to initiate any conversation with him. It wasn’t that he seemed mean—it just seemed as though you were in two different worlds. You were nerdy and he was a popular frat boy. It was a tale as old as time, someone like him would never go for someone like you, so you pushed the idea of something sparking to the back of your mind.

The closest you’d ever gotten to speaking to him was when he would tell you good morning or good afternoon when he’d pass by. He was always so polite. His smooth voice had your heart beating fast and at times, you could barely manage to give a response. You weren’t even sure if you gave a response, your thoughts were louder than your voice.

Though these interactions were minuscule, you held them close to your heart. You yearned from afar and at the end of the day, you’d go back to your dorm and daydream. You felt like a teenager again, crushing on a boy, writing about him in your journal, he made you feel alive. He gave you hope that there were good men.

The entire class sighed as the lengthy lecture ended. It was a Friday, the last day of classes and usually the day frat parties were thrown. You weren’t interested, you’d usually take those days to read a book or write something.

As you gathered your books to exit lecture hall, your professor stopped you. “You’re a good student. I’d like to have you in my engineering club at 3, I promise it’ll be insightful.”

You thought for a moment. Your Fridays were usually spent in isolation so it wouldn’t hurt to give your professor and his club a chance. “Sure. I’ll be there, in the lab on the first floor right?” Your professor nodded happily and you have him a polite smile, exiting the lecture hall.

Once you entered your dorm, you collapsed on the plush bed. You had about two hours before the club would start, until then you’d take a shower then pick something to wear. It wasn’t like it was a special occasion, but you never did anything on Fridays.

As you picked out a chic outfit from your closet, it came to you. Luigi was in the engineering club. In fact, he was a dedicated member. The realization had your heart thumping faster in your chest. You would be in an intimate space with him for however long. You needed to look your best. You always did but now, more than ever.

After a soothing shower, your mind focused on how you would manage to keep your eyes of Luigi, you wrapped yourself in a robe and began getting ready. You applied makeup that highlighted your features and by the time you were finished, the club would be starting in just a few minutes.

Great. Your first time attending and you were late. Now, everyone’s eyes would be on you as you walked in, including his. The thought made you shudder and your heart beat faster.

Just as predicted you were late, slowly pushing the door to the lab open ten minutes after the engineering club had began. After taking a deep breath, you stepped inside.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. Good afternoon,” you apologized politely as you closed the door.

Turning around, you realized the room of six people were staring as you walked in.

The only person who caught your eyes was Luigi Mangione. He was as handsome as the day you first saw him, his thick eyebrows quirked upwards and his soft, piercing gaze locked on yours.

“That’s fine. I’m glad you’re here, the club is usually filled but seeing as there’s some big frat party, no one came,” your professor chuckled but your gaze remained on your crush.

You were snapped out of your gaze when your professor gestured for you to sit in the empty seat beside Luigi.

The thought of having to sit next to him made your legs wobbly. Not like you had a choice so with your gaze still locked on his, you slowly made your way over to the empty seat.

“Good afternoon.” Luigi’s voice rang in your ear as you sat down and you hesitantly turned to look at him, returning the sentiment in a meek voice. He was always so respectful, you were the one who came and saw him, you should’ve been the one to greet him.

For the next few minutes, you zoned out. Whatever the professor and the club members spoke about was background noise as your mind swarmed with thoughts about the man beside you. That was until you heard his soothing voice answer whatever question was asked.

Slowly, you turned your head to look at him as he spoke. His side profile was ethereal, his jawline flexing as he spoke about what engineering meant to him. He was so intelligent and the entire room listened intently, grasping each word that left his lips. His presence commanded attention, you craved a man like him. You craved him.

“Do you agree?” Luigi turned to face you, a small smile on his lips. Your eyes widened for a second. Was he actually talking to you?

“Y-yeah, I do,” you said, simply.

You wanted the earth to swallow you whole right then and there. You couldn’t believe you actually stuttered in front of him.

As the time began winding down, you tried to push your overthinking to the back of your mind, wanting nothing more than to dash to your dorm and scream into a pillow.

“And that’s it for today folks. I hope you all enjoyed especially my special guest, same time next week?” your professor asked, a big smile on his face.

You nodded sweetly but you knew you weren’t coming back. Not after stuttering while you talked to your crush.

Quickly, you exited the lab, determination in your steps as you made your way back to your dorm.

“Y/N! Wait up!” You stopped in your tracks hearing his voice call after you. He knew your name.

“Is everything okay?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, Luigi was standing in front of you, concerned about your well being.

“I’m fine, Luigi. And you?” you asked, fidgeting with the bracelet on your wrist.

“Really nervous, I can’t lie.”

He was nervous, why would he be nervous speaking to you? “Why would you be nervous?” you inquired, confusion etched on your face as you avoided eye contact.

“Fuck, okay, let me start. So, uh, these past three years I’ve been trying to talk to you, but I’ve never been able to go beyond greeting you. Sometimes, you wouldn’t even respond, other times, you just had this look on your face that seemed like you didn’t want me to talk to you. And I’m not insulting your looks or anything,” he said frantically, hands held up in self defense, “you’re beautiful, really beautiful. And then today, when you walked in looking like this—”

He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair, watching as your eyes widened with each word. “When you walked in looking so beautiful, I knew I had to confess. You gave me a look too—that look in your eye that told me you feel what I feel too. Fuck, I’ve had a crush on you for so long. I’ve admired you all these years, and now I finally have the courage to confess.”

Your lips parted slightly, heart beating so loudly in your chest you could hear it in your ear. Luigi felt the same way you had felt since the moment you saw him. He wanted you just as bad. The popular frat boy had been nursing a crush on you all these years and he—him of all people, had been nervous to to confess.

“Me too, God, me too. I feel the same way. I’ve had a crush on you since the day I saw you, ever since then you’ve been stuck in my head. I see you around school a-and you’re everything I could ever want but I was just so scared to even say anything, you’re popular and I’m not and I thought—”

Your frantic confession was cut short when his large hands cupped your cheeks. His eyes fluttered shut as he titled his head and pressed a slow kiss that was hesitant at first. Once you wrapped your arms around his neck, the kiss grew deeper, though still gentle.

He smiled into your lips and you smiled against his, your heart fluttering. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear. I felt like I’ve waited my entire life to kiss you,” he beamed.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as your cheeks heated. Then, the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Would you like to come back to my dorm?”

“Yeah—I mean are you sure?” Luigi asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Never been sure about anything as much as I am now.” Your new found confidence shocked you and you walked back to your dorm across campus, fingers laced together. Were you in a dream? Did the man you had been crushing on for three whole years feel the same way too? You couldn’t believe it but you’d make the best of it until you could.

Walking to your dorm you got many stares—it wasn’t everyday the most desired frat boy held hands with a random, reserved girl. He sensed your slight discomfort and squeezed your hand, giving you that reassuring smile you had always seen him give to others. Now, it was yours.

As you unlocked the door of your dorm, barely managing to close it behind you, you were gently pushed up against it. Luigi had his arms on either side of your head.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he chuckled. “I need to hear you say it. Do you have feelings for me?”

The tension in the room was palpable, his sweet, strong cologne enveloped your senses making your head swoon and your thighs clench instinctively. Though it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“I have feelings for you Luigi, I really, really like you. More than you could even imagine.” His eyes softened at your words as if it was the one thing he needed to be told.

“Fuck, princess. I like you too, a lot. The way I feel about you, I’ve never felt that for anyone else. You’re all I’ve thought about for three whole years and I wish I wasn’t such a pussy and made a move sooner so we could’ve had more time together. So I could’ve had you all to myself sooner.”

This was what you had always wanted to hear and experiencing it in real time was far better than any daydream you had ever conjured up.

Now, it was your turn to interject. Your hands wrapped around his neck, bringing his head down into an intense, all consuming kiss. Your body pressed flush against him and his hands went under your thighs, instinctively. You jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and he caught you.

“Is this real?” Luigi asked breathlessly, as he sat on your bed with you in his arms.

You giggled and snuggled into his neck, inhaling his scent and making sure your hands remained on him. You wondered if it was real too and you didn’t want to take your hands off him, scared he would just be a figment of your imagination and disappear.

He littered gentle kisses all over your face and you hadn’t even registered what you were doing until you felt a jolt of pleasure course through you. You moved back and forth on his now prominent bulge, and you both moaned in unison.

You were clad in a short dress and it rode up with the only thing separating you being your thong, his jeans and boxers. His hands hesitantly went to your hips and you stared into his eyes as you were grinding on his bulge. His hazel eyes were lust blown and his lips parted as low moans escaped. God, those moans. They were music to your ears.

“This feels so good, baby, are you okay?” he asked, breathlessly.

“Shhh, just hold me,” you whispered, feeling your orgasm on the horizon.

He guided you back and forth and pressed his forehead against yours, your breathing increasing.

“Be a good girl and cum for me sweetheart, it’s okay. I know you want to,” he whispered.

At his command you gripped his bicep, your entire body convulsing as you stared into his eyes and came in your panties.

He held you close, rubbing your back as you slowly came down from your high. “That’s it, such a good girl,” he cooed. You couldn’t believe just grinding against him made you cum that hard, if you weren’t so caught up in the moment, you would’ve been embarrassed.

“Lu, I need more,” you pleaded, voice thick with emotion.

As soon as the words left your lips, his eyes glinted in a way you hadn’t seen before. He slipped off your dress, staring into your eyes and when he found no hesitation, he unclasped your bra.

His eyes widened at the sight of your bare chest before him, nipples hard. “You’re absolutely stunning, can I touch you? Taste you?”

“Please,” you rasped.

His head dipped and you couldn’t help but moan, feeling his tongue swirl around your hardened nipples. He moved to the other neglected breast, engulfing it with his mouth and suckling, while gently pinching the other. Your fantasy was finally fulfilled as you ran your fingers through his dark curls, back arching into his touch.

Abruptly, he placed you on the bed and slid to his knees, opening your legs to reveal the heaven that resided between. “Am I allowed to touch you? Can I taste you sweetheart? It’s entirely your decision if you want me to.”

“Yes, please.” He slid off your wet panties, tossing it aside and taking a moment to marvel at your glistening pussy before his head went between your legs.

The feeling of his tongue against you was heaven, he was so skilled, sucking on your clit and flicking it with his tongue. His eyes bore into yours, a moment so intimate you almost wanted to hide your face. Your moans, the sound of your juices and Luigi’s tongue filled your once silent dorm and you gripped onto his curls for dear life.

“You taste like Heaven baby,” he murmured before diving back in.

His hands gripped your thighs tighter as he deepened his focus, his tongue pressing harder against your clit. He was relentless but tender and more soft moans escaped your lips as your thighs shook. He responded with a low groan of approval, the vibration adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

His tongue circled against your clit in a final, deliberate motion, and the world around you blurred. When your orgasm hit, it was like a storm breaking loose. Your pussy surged with pleasure, a pulse that started deep inside and spread outward, consuming every inch of you. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, gripping tight as your orgasm washed over you, a cry slipping from your lips as you squirted in his mouth. He didn’t let up, drawing every last ripple from you, not stopping until your body finally collapsed, spent and trembling.

“You did so well sweetheart, did you enjoy that?” he asked, leaning up, lips and chin glistening.

To answer his question, you pulled him in for a kiss and slipped your tongue inside his mouth to taste yourself. His hands went to your breasts, fondling you as you smiled into the kiss. “I need you so bad Lu, please.”

“Talk to me. Tell me what you need then princess,” he whispered, his deep voice making your pussy throb.

You buried your face into his neck, your cheeks heating at the request but he wasn’t having it.

“Don’t be shy sweetheart, I’m here—it’s just me. Tell me exactly what you need.”

He titled your chin to look up at him, his eyes glistening with care and something darker. Something you’d never seen before but made your thighs clench. “I- I need you to fuck me.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Luigi lay you flat on the bed then hovered over you, his body pressing lightly against yours as he sucked on your neck. He shed his clothes in a flash, and your breath caught at the sight before you. The heat of his skin against yours was electrifying, and anticipation hung thick in the air.

Luigi looked like a god, one you craved to worship, his muscles taut and glistening under the dim light in your dorm every curve and contour accentuated. You couldn’t help but caress his abs, fingers tracing the defined lines, marveling at the way his body felt firm under your touch. His eyes fluttered shut, a low groan escaping his lips as your hands explored his body.

“Like what you see?” he asked, leaning down to lick the side of your neck.

“You have no idea.” You had dreamt of the day you would be able to have him all to yourself, have your hands all over him, and it was finally here. Your eyes trailed down to his deep V line and then you saw it. He was long, thick and hard. Bigger than you had ever imagined and your breath caught in your throat as you saw his cock physically throb.

“S’okay baby, you can take it. I’ll go nice and slow for you,” he whispered.

You nodded then felt him slowly push the tip in, just enough to make your breath catch again. A gasp escaped your lips, his size stretching you, testing your limits. His brow furrowed with restraint, the muscles in his arms tensing as he held back, waiting for you to adjust.

His eyes searched yours, intense and burning with something primal, yet laced with care. “Are you okay sweetheart, want me to move?”

You nodded slightly, biting your lip, and he moved again, pressing in just a little more, but it’s so much—he’s so much, filling you in a way you’d never been before.

Your pussy tightened around him, and he moaned, low and guttural, the sound sending a ripple of need straight through you. “You feel so good baby,” he gasped, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

He was so thick, every inch was a slow, deliberate stretch, each stroke making you moan and grip the thin fabric of your sheets. His darkened eyes never left yours, his lips parted slightly as he panted softly, the strain of holding back evident on his face. You were both gasping, lost in the feeling of him filling you inch by inch, the overwhelming sensation forcing you to arch your back slightly into him.

“Lu,” you moaned, your nails clawing at his back.

“I know baby, it feels so fucking good.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, he was fully buried in your pussy, and you could feel him throbbing deep inside your cervix. The moment hung in the air, both of you frozen in awe, the sheer intensity of it all leaving you breathless.

“Feels so good Lu, I—I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, on the brink of an orgasm already.

“Not yet baby, I want it to be really good. Be a good girl and hold on for me.”

You nodded and your fingers gripped his shoulders as he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, and for a moment, all you could hear were your ragged breaths mingling together and the sound of his body softly pounding into you.

His hips rolled gently, sliding out just enough to make you gasp before pressing back in with a deep, deliberate thrust. The friction was perfect, every inch of his cock dragging inside your pussy sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. The man you had a soul eating crush on for three years was fucking you. Luigi Mangione was finally fucking you.

He reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit softly and no matter how hard you bit your lips, you couldn’t stop the moans that left you. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, you can cum now. Do it around my cock, baby,” Luigi cooed.

As soon as the words left his lips you felt it. A rush of liquid escaped you as your orgasm ripped through every muscle in your body. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as you squirted around his cock, the slick wetness coating him. His name fell from your lips again, but it was a loud moan, caught in the overwhelming and intense ecstasy that took over.

You gasped realizing what had just happened. You’d never squirted before—you weren’t even sure if you had ever cum, but somehow, Luigi managed to get that out of you. He made you squirt.

“That’s it. My good girl, you came so hard baby. Fucking soaked my cock,” he said, looking down at the mess you made on the sheets and his cock as he bottomed out.

He gave you a moment to breathe, pressing soft kisses on your lips. “You’re so beautiful, God, I can’t believe I have you,” he beamed.

He flipped you on your side, his body pressing against yours as he hoisted your leg up.

“Ready sweetheart? Is this okay?” he asked.

“More than okay, please fuck me,” you whined.

He pressed a kiss to your ear before he was back in your soaked, warm walls. This time, it was easier for him to slip inside, though the stretch from this angle still had you squeezing his thigh. He thrusted up into you, hitting that sweet spot that had you crying out repeatedly.

“You take me so well baby, such a good girl,” he praised.

He maintained a steady but deep rhythm, one that had you feeling almost every inch of him, and soon you felt your pussy throb, another intense orgasm impending.

“You wanna cum baby? Yeah? Tell me how bad you want to,” he murmured.

You wrapped your hand around his head, your fingers lacing in his curls and fucking yourself back on his cock. “Please Lu, wanna cum so bad. I’ve waited so long for this. I’ve thought about this every single day, please let me cum.”

“Yeah? Me too baby. I’ve thought about fucking you for so long and having you just soak my cock. Cum for me pretty girl,” he said.

Your legs trembled, your hands pulling his head down to the back of your neck to make him suck as the pleasure peaked. He thrusted into you harder, each motion pushing you closer to the edge until you couldn’t hold on any longer. With a loud whimper, your pussy clenched around his hard cock, the tension snapping again and the release flooded through you all at once. You squirted once more, this one somehow more intense than the last and making tears prick the corner of your eyes.

“You’re amazing sweetheart, such a good girl for me,” he whispered into your ear.

Your vision blurred, the orgasm leaving you dizzy, but he didn’t stop. He kept thrusting, slow and deeper now, letting you ride out every last wave of pleasure until you were left panting and utterly spent, your body limp and trembling in his arms.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum, where do you want it?”

“I-inside me, please,” you gasped, your walls clenching around him to milk him of his cum.

“Are you sure sweetheart?”

You nodded frantically, grinding your ass against him and that did it.

“Oh God baby, t-thank you. You’re incredible,” he gasped as his orgasm washed over him.

You felt him pulse inside you, his cock twitching as he spilled into you, filling you with his warm cum and you came once more, this time, with him. His body tensed beside you, every muscle taut as he let out a ragged moan of release. His cum flooded through you, his orgasm drawing out in long, throbbing waves as he rocked against you, riding out every last pulse of pleasure. You’d never felt this good before.

Slowly, he pulled out of you and turned you so that you were facing him. He stared into your eyes, his expression softening as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. His breathing was still heavy, but there was a look of contentment on his face, a quiet satisfaction in the aftermath of the overwhelming pleasure and the need he felt for you over the past three years.

“You did so well, sweetheart. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.

“You didn’t,” you smiled, brushing his thick eyebrows with your fingers making him chuckle.

“I’m glad. Did I live up to your expectations?”

“Surpassed it. It was better than I could ever imagine,” you beamed.

“I feel the same way sweetheart, now let’s cuddle for a bit then take a shower and get ready. I’m taking you out to dinner.”

His words made your heart flutter and you buried your face in his firm chest. He was all you could ask for and more. After years of yearning, he was finally yours.

[linksqueerawakening]

Miscellaneous LU Headcanons

Four doesn't cast a shadow. when questioned, they flatly state "it died" and refuse to elaborate. if pushed on the matter, they become more and more irritated, while still refusing to elaborate

Time always knows what time it is. you could wake him up in the middle of the night and before he's even fully opened his eyes he could tell you the time without having to even think about it

Hyrule has the most magic, but Legend knows the most magical theory, followed closely by Time

Warriors, Legend, and Four are the only members of the chain who are actually legit monarchists. like the others are pretty much neutral on the concept (tho Wild doesn't like how flora was treated with all the expectations and lack of freedom, but that's another matter entirely than being of the opinion that monarchy is inherently bad), they're fine with monarchy. they just don't have strong opinions one way or another, so long as the current holder of power isn't corrupt. meanwhile Four Legend and Warriors would probably fight you if you insinuated that hyrule's monarchy should be abolished

Legend and Fable are twins but it's a secret. and also due to Fable getting kidnapped and transformed in various worlds in some of their adventures, they're no longer the same age; Legend is 19, she's 16 or 17. they still look very similar so they used the excuse that they're cousins on their father's side

Legend used to want to be a knight very very badly when he grew up, because his uncle who raised him was a knight. the knights who were controlled and attacked him during Link to the Past were pretty much all trusted adults that he knew and admired. he stopped wanting to be a knight after that

Wild may be the best cook when they have good ingredients, but when the chain is down to the wire and they need to make every little bit count? Hyrules horrible concoctions are actually the best option. he can't make it taste good but he can make it keep you alive when there are no other options

Wind is the best at navigating without a map or compass due to his experiences on ships - he would rather have the tools, but he's pretty damn good at managing without

Four has a habit of referring to themselves with "we/us" pronouns ever since they were split and then reformed with the four sword. the other heroes don't know why, but sort of shrugged and started using "they/them" pronouns bc it seemed polite. Four is mostly unaware that they do this - green picked up on it but hasn't pointed it out to the rest of four bc he knows it'll make them stress, and it clearly hasn't caused any issues

Twilight is disarmingly charismatic but only when he's not trying. if he's talking to someone casually or even somewhat irritably, they tend to be completely taken by him, but if he's actively trying to be smooth it just comes across as awkward

Sky is the most mild mannered person you've ever met until you cross certain lines, at which point it's like a switch flips and he's so pissed that even the other heroes hesitate to deal with him

Discounting the hundred years in which Wild was unconscious, Warriors had the longest single adventure, with the war of eras lasting about 7 years. Legend's six adventures altogether may have lasted longer, but they were split up into multiple parts, not one long quest

Wild takes pictures of pretty much everything they can to show Flora whenever they're back home, because they know how much she wants to learn about the ancient past, like their species, their societies, and their magic

[nieceeee]

Can you do a story with ony about every time he buys her something she pays him back either in cash or getting him a gift just as expensive every time and he eventually catch’s on and asks her why to which she explains how at the end of her last relationship her ex was tryna to force her to pay him for “wasting his time” can it end in smut plz 🤭🤭😩

“ALL THE THINGS”

P/S: Most of your life your relationships have been transactional. You learned early on that nothing you get comes for free, especially with me. It was always a give and take. So when you got with Ony, you expected the same things. For every gift he got you, you made sure to double it because that's how the game goes right? Well Ony wasn't having that. He was going to get it through to you by any means necessary...

WC: 3.2k

A/N: DO NOT HATE ME! MNDI!! This took so much longer than I expected it to. But I hope you like it. It got me in my feelings a little bit ngl. Nicknames (pa, mamas, princess, babygirl) smutty, slight angst as well but there is smut and cute fluff, p in v, body worship, I think that’s all.

Life is about balance. The ebbs and flows are what makes the world go ‘round. Every action requires a reaction. It's a give and a take.

You took that literally.

Simply put, you have never known a love that wasn’t built on balance. And for as long as you could remember, every relationship you were involved in had been more of a checks and balances act that anything. It was all so…transactional.

See love has it's strings attached, no matter how the fairytales tries to spin it. It was an unwritten rule. In order to get what you wanted you had to give exactly that same thing or greater back. You needed to surpass expectations to have someone meet your own. You learned-- no, excelled at this. Now, could it have stemmed from deeper rooted insecurities of protecting yourself from being hurt. Sure.

I mean you were told at an early age from women in your life that nothing was truly free. Love, affections, kindness-- they all came with a cost. And you simply learned to play the game. Accept it with grace but never let them think they got one up on you. You remember the warning as clear as day. You kept your guard up, always matching every gesture, every gift, every ounce of attention you got from the people who mattered most. Because it had always been a give and take, and you’d be damned if you were ever the one left holding the bag.

Nonetheless this worked. It always worked. Until you met Ony.

Onyankopon came into your life like any other relationship would. He was sweet, charismatic, gentle. He was everything you could have ever asked for in a man. Patient, a rock when you needed him, and a safe space for you to just…be. When everything around you fell to chaos, he was the one thing that could lead you back into serenity. He quiet devotion to you was unmatched, making you feel seen and appreciated in every way a woman needed to be. Only was a simple gentleman who loved his lady. And he showed it even in the smallest of gestures--a hand-picked flower, a warm sweater on a cold day, a soft kiss on your forehead when you least expected it. It just felt right.

But with each gift, you felt a twinge of unease, a little tug in your chest. Those words repeating in your brain.

What was his endgame?

Ony loved you. Plain and simple. Anyone could see that. But yet you were so blinded by past hurt, you couldn’t step outside of your own head. Surely, he isn’t doing these things and expecting nothing back? No, it's just like before. So you did what you’ve always done. You matched him, made sure each gift was of equal or greater value. Yours needed to be more meaningful, more dramatic. You had to outdo him.

Every. Single. Time

It started early, a few weeks into your relationship--like when he bought you your favorite coffee from the cafe around the corner of your apartment that you loved so much. Of course you had to treat him to lunch the next day. “What’s this?” he asked when you walked in the house. He was working from home, headphones covering one of his ears. “I figured you were hungry so I wanted to bring you a treat.” you had replied. He smiled up at you, placing a gentle kiss against your temple. “Thank you baby girl.” his voice was soft with you, hands tracing gentle circles into your hips.

Further into your relationship, it continued. For you birthday, he bought you the beautiful tiffany princess cut diamond necklace that you were raving about one night as you scrolled on tiktok. “Omg, Pa look at this! It's gorgeous.” you had exclaimed. You saved it to your cart for you to buy later but he beat you to it. So what did you do? You bought him a Berluti Men’s leather jacket for his own birthday that you knew he had been eyeing for months.

But soon, the game escalated. You found yourself overthinking every little thing he did. Your mind wondering what you could give him in return. And no matter how hard you tried, you always felt like you had to top his gestures, matching him with something bigger, something better.

Ony had an inkling about your behavior for a while but he left it alone. Until your two year anniversary. That night, you sat together in his apartment, you hand him a gift--a black bag with two boxes inside. He smiles at you as he opens it up. Inside were two new grillz, one silver set and one gold set for his collection. His shocked expression morphed into a small smile of appreciation. “These are fire mamas, thank you so much.” he said before sitting them to the side. You smile bright at him “You deserve it baby.” you say to him.

Before you could even think, Ony placed the bag aside, reaching for a box from the table in front of him. You raised an eyebrow. "Hold up," Ony interrupted, his voice steady but serious. "I’ve got something for you too." He hands you the blue tiffany box with a bright white bow attached to the corner. “Wait,” you said, a little too quickly. “You didn’t get me anything else, did you? Because I just—"

He hands you the box, much smaller that the one you had given him. You hesitate for a moment as he opened it, revealing a stacked rose gold diamond ring. Your heart lurched in your chest. You blinked at the gift, unsure what to say. The ring was beautiful—perfect—but your immediate thought was that you needed to do better. Your mind raced, running through possible gifts you could return with, how you could top this beautiful piece of jewelry. Your instinct to outdo him kicked in, but then you saw the look on his face. He wasn’t waiting for you to match him.

“Ony…” you started, your voice wavering slightly. “I can’t just... take this. You know I—"

“Yeah, I know,” he said softly, cutting you off, his voice low. “That’s the problem.”

You blinked, confused. “The problem?” He sighed “I’ve been watching for a while and I didn’t know if I was for sure until now.” He lets you sit the box to the side and waits until you turn back towards him. “I noticed it a while back. The way your face contorts when you see me get you something. And before I know it you’ve repaid the favor.” he explains. “I mean we are in a relationship baby. That's what we do.” You attempt to laugh it off.

He leaned forward, his gaze steady as he watched you, his dark eyes soft but intense. “You’re not getting it, are you?” he said quietly, shaking his head. “You think everything has to be a transaction. That if I give you something, you have to give me something back. But that’s not how it works with me. Not with us.” he says “Ony, I’m not…” you speak up but you’re cut off

“Even in our bedroom. It’s like I can’t even please you without you feeling as if you need to outperform me.” He says. Your chest tightens at that statement. You hadn’t realized how much this had affected your relationship. You could see it now the wear and tear it was causing him. “Like don't get me wrong baby I love when we fuck but…sometimes I just want to make love to you.” he says gently.

You looked down at the ring, your fingers nervously tracing the gold, feeling the weight of his words. Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to process them.

“I don’t want you to match me,” Ony continued, his voice gentle but firm. “I’m not giving you this because I expect something in return. I’m giving it to you because I want to. Because I love you. And I don’t need anything back. Not right now, not ever.”

You swallowed hard, his words sinking deep. A lump formed in your throat as you felt the sting of emotion build up inside you. Ony wasn’t playing the game. He was giving you something real. Something without strings attached. Yet you struggled to accept it.

“I...” You found it hard to speak, the words getting caught in your throat. “I don’t know how to accept that. I’ve always had to give something back. I’ve always had to prove...”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” he interrupted softly, reaching out to take your hands in his, his touch warm and grounding. “Look,” he said gently. “I don’t know who he is that made you feel like this. Or who they were that told you that this is the only way you can receive love. It’s not.” He says softly ”But you don’t understand. It not okay for you to do for me and I don’t do for you.” You attempt to explain tears burning your eyes. “You can do for me. But do for me because you love me and appreciate me. Not because you feel like you have something to prove.”

“You don’t have to keep playing that game, baby. You’re enough just as you are. I love you, and that’s not conditional. It’s not about what you give me. It’s about what we give each other. And if you can’t accept that, then we need to have a different conversation.”

Your heart ached, a flood of emotions threatening to spill over. You had spent so much of your life protecting yourself, hiding behind the walls of your own expectations, and here was Ony, asking you to tear them down. To let him love you without the conditions you had always set in place.

You took a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of his hands around yours. “I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I know,” he replied, his voice tender, the understanding in his eyes never wavering. “But you don’t have to be anymore. You don’t have to do anything, or be anyone, to deserve my love. You’ve got me. No strings attached.”

And with those few words, you felt the walls inside you begin to crack. The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over as you let out a shaky breath, feeling the full weight of his words settle in your chest.

He caresses your head gently, kissing away your tears. You don’t move, allowing him to nurture you. Ony pulls you closer to him. Kissing down to your lips. After a few minutes, you pull back. “Your lips are salty.” you giggle. Laughter fills the air as tension leaves both your bodies. Ony picks the box up and opens it, the ring on full display. “Ony…” you start. “This is my vow to you. My vow to love you endlessly if you let me. To give you all of me and more. No questions asked. My promise that you have all of me.” he slips the ring onto your finger. “It's beautiful baby. Thank you.” you lean up and press a kiss against his lips. His kisses you gently, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth.

You whimper in his touch. “Ony.” you speak breathlessly. He hums before kissing you again. Heat rises in your body as his hands trail up your thighs. You whine, wiggling closer to him. Ony pulls back a bit from you. “Wha…” you startle. “I want you to allow me to love you and please you without conditions. Can you do that for me?” He asks. You look into his eyes burning with sincerity and a sense of newfound peace washes over you. “Yes” you answer and you feel yourself being lifted up. You smile as Ony carries you back into your bedroom and places you gently on the bed.

“Just let me worship you baby. Like you deserve.”

He speaks before gently removing your clothes. His eyes rake over your body, taking in the curves of every part of you. “Fuck, you're so fucking pretty.” he said, hands caressing every part of you. His fingertips trace your neck and down to your nipples, circling them gently. Your back lifts from the bed but he presses you back down carefully. “Relax mamas, let me take care of you.” he cooes, continuing his descent down your body. His feather light fingers move down your torso and to your thighs. He draws gentle shapes into your inner thighs, massaging your body to loosen you up. “Breathe deep for me mamas. In and out. Focus on your breathing.” he whispers before moving his head down to your pussy.

His nose grazes against your clit and your body jolts. Ony’s thick hands come back up and flatten you back against the mattress again. “Relax baby. Keep breathing for me.” You will your body to relax as he resumes his actions. Nose grazing against the meaty flesh, he begins to pepper soft kisses along your skin. Tantric breathing methods allow your body to release the tension you held in your muscles as Ony’s lips press against your already wet one. He makes out with your pussy, softly tugging your lips into his mouth and using his tongue to flick your clit ever so often.

“Fuck pa. Right there. Don’t stop.” you whine. Ony’s kisses are slow and deliberate. His pace is steady, tongue dragging from opening to clit, like a cat lapping at it's milk. “You so fucking sweet.” he growls into your pussy, warm breath blowing into your pussy. Your pussy clenches around nothing, causing more of your juice to pour out, landing right on his tongue. “Fuck.” You gasp for air. Your toes shape into ‘C’s as Ony explores your body. Mouth pleasuring you as his hands grip and knead at your flesh. Your juices drip down his chin as he slurps you down, soft moans release from his chest at the sight of your arousal. Ony’s dick hardens as he presses his hips into the mattress to relieve pressure while he honors your body. Your eyes roll back as your head presses back into the pillow, breathing doing little to keep shivers from racing through your body.

“Ony baby, please.” you whine, hips grinding against his face while his tongue fucks your center. Your pussy so wet, the sounds echoing through the room as she sings sweet music to him. Ony was in a trance, getting lost in your essence. The speed of his tongue increases causing sparks to sizzle underneath your skin, alerting your body of the pending release. Your moans get louder as your breathing gets heavy, Your hands reach down to grip the back of his head, hips stuttering against his face. “Ony, Fuck Pa, I’m gonna cum.” You’re borderline groveling as your body begins to convulse, saccharine secretions glaze his beard as you call out his name.

You struggle to catch your breath as Ony finally comes up for hair, lickign you from his lips. “You ready for me baby?” he asks, dick hardened beneath his boxers. “I-...” you breaths still trying to level themselves out, “Are you sure you don't need me to help you baby?” you manage to push out between breaths. “No mamas. Just let me praise you like the muse you are.” his deep praises caress the deepest parts of your heart, mending unspoken wounds with each word. He steps forward, pulling his dick from his boxers and gently slapping your swollen clit with his tip. “You’re my princess, yeah?” he asks softly looking down at the gold mine between your legs. “Y-yes.” you respond to him. “Remember that. Always.” he slips his tip through your entrance. “Onyyyy, fuck baby.” you body clenches, attempting to pull him in deeper. “Tell me you deserve it baby.” his eyes meet yours, brown irises burning with intensity. “I deserve iitttt…” your words drag as he sheaths himself all the way inside you.

“You deserve it all baby girl. You’re so fucking precious to me.” the sweet words contrast with the thickness of his voice as his hips jut forward, strokes deepening and increasing in speed. Only’s hands trail your body, one hand coming up to gentle press against your throat as the other locks your wrists above your head. His body leans closer, strokes shallowing as his hips grind into yours, words of praise whispered against your skin as he caters to every need that your body requests. Both bodies move in tandem as breaths deepen and arousals heighten. You feel your body teetering on the edge of another climax. Only can tell by the way your pussy grips him desperately, craving him.

“Ony, I’m..I’m c-close.” you cry out, body begging for him. “It's okay. Give it to me princess.” he commands. “Bless me with your essence baby. Release it all for me.”

You don't register the sounds being released are yours until your body starts to shake in his arms. Tears fall from the corners of your eyes slipping down your face and around your ears. Bed wet with your tears and your release as your aura explodes from inside of you. Ony’s breaths choppy as he requests, “Can I pour into you princess?” he whispers brokenly into your ear. Words don’t come so you feverishly nod your head in agreement. His growl follows his nut as you feel your pussy warm from his release coating your gummy walls. You both sit, holding each other as you come down from your high.

After a moment, Ony raises up. “All good or one more?” He asks using his thumb to swipe the tears from your eyes. “All good Pa. Thank you.” You let out. Ony rises up and goes into the bathroom. Your eyes flutter open and closed as you let yourself calm down. He returns with a warm towel and works on cleaning you up. He replaces your clothes with a warm t shirt of his and gets fresh blankets for the bed.

You sit and allow it. It feels good being on this side. Your heart feels light as you watch him move around the room getting everything comfortable for you. “Better?” He asks. “Better.” You repeat as a response. “Good. Now take your pretty ass down while I go get you something to eat.”

Ony didn’t ask for anything in return. He gave freely, unconditionally. And maybe, for the first time in your life, you realized you could do the same. He came back in the room with your food and slipped underneath the covers with you, pulling your body in his warmth. You pulled him into an embrace, wrapping your arms around him tightly, as if trying to hold onto the love he was offering you.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

“I love you too,” Ony murmured, holding you even tighter, as if he never wanted to let go.

In that moment, everything changed. You didn’t need to play the game anymore. You didn’t need to prove anything. You just needed to accept what was right in front of you: a love that was simple, pure, and free from the weight of expectations.

And for the first time in your life, it was enough.

[violet-butterflies]

❥︎ yandere! Popular Girl

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ Possessive, Obsessive, mentions of stalking and Blackmail, gxg ( female yandere! oc x female reader )

yandere! popular girl just moved into a new school and instantly rose up in the university hierarchy. Equipped with the perfect looks, money and charismatic personality, it was no mystery that a lot of people liked her. There were still a group of people that hated her for being a "whore" and a "pick me" but, honestly, it never bothered her. She knows her worth and she does not care about what other people had to say about her for choosing who to be friends with.

Despite all that, she found herself worrying about what you think of her. She first met you in one of her classes. This particular class didn't have that many students in it due to the fact that not a lot of people were very interested in it. Heck, she only joined it because one of her friends wanted to.

The two of you were paired together for a project. To be completely honest, you slightly groaned at the forced decision. You weren't really on the side that liked her. You heard from your friends about the rumors and allegations of how she did her work half-heartedly and of how she's slept with a huge majority of people so, deep down you were already preparing to basically do this project yourself.

But to your surprise, she was actually nice? She tried her hardest to help but struggled a bit because of how slow she was at understanding things but she actually wanted to communicate with you; which was better than a few people you've had worked with who stayed silent and made the atmosphere awkward. You hated to admit it but working with her was actually nice. You were even starting to wonder about why you decided to believe the rumors without actually meeting the person first.

Even so, you didn't really expect to get really close with her due to the complete imbalance and difference in both of your lives.

Yandere! popular girl actually wanted to be your friend though. She was a social butterfly so she really valued friendship. But, you were completely new to what she was used to. Most of her friends were over the top and extravagant in some way but you were, well, average.

"What are you thinking about babe?" yandere! popular girl's boyfriend asked her as the two were cuddling on the couch. yandere! popular girl's boyfriend was a few years older than her and was just starting to work as a pilot.

"Oh, um nothing. Just this girl I want to be friends with" she admitted before thinking to herself. Why was she thinking of you?

Eventually, you somehow became close with yandere! popular girl. You two would have lunch together or wait at a cafe somewhere before your classes. You even began to realize that she was hanging out with you more compared to the people she was really close with.

"(y/n) let's go to this new cafe! I saw on the internet that it's super cute!"

"(y/n) I wanna take you out on a little shopping trip! I bet you'd look super cute if I got to dress you up!"

"(y/n) wanna go to my house? I wanna show you this really cool makeup trick and I wanna try giving you a little makeover!"

Every single day of the week, you'd always had some sort of plan with yandere! popular girl. Because of how much you two were hanging out, you too were propelled up on the popularity board. You weren't exactly sure why but your friends began to stop talking to you ever since yandere! popular girl became your friend. Maybe they just hated that you were now friends with someone they weren't exactly fond of.

"Trust me! This party is gonna be fun! We're gonna have some fun! Plus you look so pretty in my clothes!" yandere! popular girl reassured as you two got out of the car.

The two of you then entered the very loud and crowded party hosted by one of yandere! popular girl's friends. You weren't sure if it was because of how good yandere! popular girl was at convincing people or if it was because you wanted to feel like you fit in with this completely new crowd but, you began drinking cups of the terrible beer. After a few more, you were a giggly drunk that was sprawled all over one of the couches.

"Hold on here (y/n)! I'm gonna go get something to eat! Don't go anywhere!" yandere! popular girl said before leaving you to get more chips. You only could give her a dumb smile as you began giggling at whatever you were thinking about.

"Hi there cutie... Aren't you really happy about something," a random guy came up to you minutes later. You gave him a drunken explanation before giggling again. The conversation was going well but, unbeknownst to the both of you, yandere! popular girl scowled at the sight.

How dare this random rando talk to my (y/n)?! And why are they getting along so well?!

yandere! popular girl then began stormed your way before pulling you to stand up.

"Oh sorry there! I think my girlfriend is really drunk and we're just gonna go now!" Yandere! popular girl said with a fake smile and a slightly passive-aggressive tone.

You then clung onto yandere! popular girl for support when you looked at her.

"Hehe, you're pretty even when you look mad" your drunk self complimented her. Yandere! popular girl's eyes widened as she looked at your flushed face and drunk smile.

Maybe she going to keep planning how she's going to dig through the rando's data to find anything she can use to ruin his life with later. It's not going to be pretty hard for an internet sleuth like yandere! popular girl. After all, why do you think your old friends stopped talking to you anyway?

[bunnys-writing]

Hi aether!!

Would it be okay to ask for a Lyney x reader whos insecure about their face because they think that lyney is WAYYYY prettier than them and is overall just insecure abt their looks ever since before they met? Thank you !!

"My Shining Star"

...in which you, a self conscious Fontainian, feel as though your lovely boyfriend is too lovely for someone like you, and he just can't have you thinking like that on his watch.

(a/n at the bottom!)

Lyney is a man easily described as charismatic and charming. He encapsulates what it means to be confident, and his every move is flawless by design. His show run with his siblings has been deemed dozens of times over the best show in the Court of Fontaine, and what's more, he has clear set goals, ambitions, bonds, and ideals.

And then there's you. You're quiet, more reserved than he appears to his crowd. In a world of dazzling gems, you feel like you're more akin to a jagged rock, and yet, he pursued you.

For months, really, you thought he was joking. A trick to lure you into his mind games, a ploy to make fun of you, but there was a quiet sincerity in his eyes that made you wonder if maybe it wasn't as fake as you believed.

And it wasn't. Months of courting you eventually had you lower your guard and take him up on his invitation. A date.

Well, the date went far better than either of you could've hoped, and it was shortly after that you became partners. He was your loyal, joyful boyfriend, and you were his favourite thing in the world.

For a while, it was great. You attended his shows, and he dedicated every single one to you and his family. He always made sure he knew where you were sitting in the crowd so he could blow you a kiss, even if the people near you swooned on your behalf to insist it was for them.

Was it for them?

That thought planted the seed.

It took days for Lyney to notice your withdrawals; the way you avoided his eyes, didn't linger on his kisses or cuddles. It was about as subtle as a house on fire, in his defense.

Then you stopped attending as many shows, stopped spending nights at his house, started looking in mirrors and numbers on scales and spots on your face, and by the end of two months of Lyney hoping for you to tell him, he decided he couldn't stand watching his partner tear themself apart like this.

"Knock knock," Came a singsong voice at your door. He didn't want to scare you, so he kept his tone jovial. "Hope you don't mind me letting myself in, my dear."

You looked at the magician in slight surprise, then at your mess of an appearance with embarrassment. "Lyney! I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were coming over, I would've tidied up a little more if I did..."

"Nonsense, dove! We've been dating for months now, you don't owe me a saving face." Lyney walked over to you, closing the door behind him and sitting on your bed next to you.

The second the door was closed, your boyfriend shed the persona he held. His eyes softened, his stature relaxed, and he lost the formalities. He brushed a hand to your cheek lovingly, and when you shifted to move your face away, he immediately retracted to his own disappointment.

"(Y/N)...I need to talk to you about something."

You felt fear and guilt crawl up your stomach to infect your lungs. Tangled in this dread, you said nothing. Lyney took it as an open invitation.

"You've been acting strange lately...You weigh yourself, you're less inclined to eat or to leave the house, you seem...you seem low."

Lyney didn't touch you. He put a hand next to yours as an offer and left it there. He could tell something was wrong, even in the darkness of the room. You looked so...sad. It ached for him to see you like this.

"Did someone say something to you? Do something?"

No. And that was the stupid part. This was entirely self afflicted. You drove yourself down this spiral.

"...no." You despised the way your voice sounded so gravelly. "I'm just...not feeling great."

"What happened, (Y/N)? Please, talk to me."

You unfurled yourself, your knees left your chest to splay onto the mattress, and your hands travelled to fridget in your lap. Lyney moved to face you a little bit more.

"It's just...I don't know. You're really pretty, and I see how people look at you, especially when you're with me. The people at your shows, at the markets...they know I don't deserve you, Lyn."

There was a long silence. Then, a cautious hand on yours.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

You looked at your boyfriend, who seemed to be saddened a great deal from your words, but still smiling stubbornly despite.

"...Anything."

"I'm quite self conscious myself."

Now you were sure he was lying. You watched him carefully for any hint of a lie, but you couldn't discern it. With widening eyes, you realised he was telling the truth.

"Wha-...How? You're so beautiful and charming, and your smile is so bright it warms anyone who sees it!"

"Funny, that's exactly what I think of you."

A deep red burns your cheeks as you realise you've been caught, and your boyfriend laughs, bringing you closer in his arms.

"I know how it feels to feel like you're lesser than the people you love. To feel like the world would continue without a change if you were to fade away. But you're my shining star, and I love you so much. All of you."

Lyney plants gentle kisses on your palm, to your wrist, then to your cheek, catching you off-guard and flustered. He gives a sort of half chuckle at your expression. You see love fill every bit of his eyes as he gazes at you.

"I love you so much, (Y/N). Don't ever think any less, 'kay?"

"Yeah...I love you too, Lyney."

Man oh man I apologise for how long this took! Writing for Lyney was super fun, so I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it.

A gentle reminder that you are never not enough, and you're perfect just the way you are no matter what anyone (including you yourself) has to say about it! ♡

Thanks for reading! 🫶

REQUESTS OPEN, check pinned for more info!

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

Genshin Men With an Extra Bubbly Sweetheart ♡

I just can’t get this idea out of my head!!! Genshin men with a giggly, uppity, energetic and sweet lover! Some, it would really work for! Some, it would be a little bit of a growth curve! Some…well for some it’s a long adjustment period. But they love you for you, even if your energy doesn’t match theirs at all. So let’s see how things shake out!!

Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Zhongli x fem!reader II Romance, comfort, fluff!

Content warnings: mention of drinking to the point of blacking out and description of depressive feelings (Kaeya).

You’re a really good outlet for Diluc to step out of his comfort zone. Normally, he’s withdrawn from the public eye as much as possible. At parties, he’s the kind of guy to drink alone (he brought his own grape juice), quietly in a dark corner. So who better to break him out of his shell than the prettiest and most jubilant person he’s ever met? He’s a fool for you, doing anything you want as long as you ask him nicely (hell, you don’t even have to ask nicely. But you always do), so there’s no social boundary of his he won’t extend if it means bringing a smile to your lovely face. You drag him out into the middle of the city square during a festival to dance, every citizen watching in shock as the notoriously foreboding wine tycoon dances with his darling, fervor in his step, twirling and lifting her as she giggles merrily. Epics can be written about how the airy woman stokes flame from the coal heart of the cold, powerful man—bringing fire to his heart once again. Venti’s already on it. Before Diluc mows him down, you chime in with cheer for such a song to be written about you and your lover! Guess it’s out of said lover’s hands.

You bring life to Kaeya’s cold heart. Sure, Kaeya puts on a sly smile for others—he masks as smooth and sly and charismatic. But deep down, we know he’s in a lot of pain. The pain eats him up inside—somedays it’s stronger than others, but ever day, he carries it’s weight. But when you step into his life? Things change for him. When he first met you, he found your bubbliness very cute, but he didn’t expect it to be so disarming. No matter what someone says, that gracious smile never leaves your features—you’re endlessly open and kind, incapable of judgement or rejection. Your smile and perpetually giving heart, your ability to light up a room with your jokes and energy, feels like stepping into a warm restaurant on a cold winters night. He finds himself smiling fully with you, expressing himself in ways he never thought he could, and most of all, he feels a deep and honest connection to another person. He doesn’t drink as much as he used to, either. When he would once hop from one bar to the other, getting cut off by multiple bartenders in one night until he blacks out and finds himself passed out on the cold cobblestone of the town square, he now…can’t find it within himself to inebriate himself to that point anymore. Or even at all. He’ll take a few sips of his drink, but ultimately doesn’t want to miss a single word you say, or a single pretty giggle from your mouth. Most of all, he doesn’t want to worry you. He never wants to be the reason you frown. You make consciousness bearable. No, more than bearable. You make it…healing. So when you ask for his heart, he gives it to you without question or hesitation. He’ll give you anything in the world as long as it keeps your life happy. And he’s honored that you’d want to have him in it.

Xiao doesn’t know how to handle you. One day, you met him on the terrace of the Wangshu Inn, a dopey surprised expression on your features, and it feels like you haven’t left since. Or at least, you haven’t left his mind since. He’s never experienced attraction or closeness to another person, but he found your pure soul and liveliness…impelling. At first, he decided this feeling was just an urge to protect you—to defend a creature that brings so much joy to others. But after you kept coming back, kept chatting at him despite his stoic silence and discomforted face, kept bumping shoulders with him, ignoring his warnings about his karmic debt, kept…smiling at him, kept calling an elated feeling to rise in his chest, making his once still heart thunder like it never has before—he knew it had to be something else. You were just so uppity and lovely, he couldn’t resist you anymore. So, despite all of the warning bells in his head screaming at him not to, he told you, “I…want to be close to you…always.”. That was definitely a confession if you’ve ever heard one! So of course you threw your arms around him and kissed his cheek in joy. He gripped one hand onto the wrist holding his face and stabilized you with a hand on your waist, brain short-circuiting and blushing so hard steam shot out of his ears. The urge to run was so strong it made his hands shake, but the desire to be near you, to soak up all of the love you were willingly spilling onto him, was beyond overpowering. He was yours. Despite himself, he was yours. And he couldn’t be happier.

Zhongli finds your bubbliness endearing. You’re like a bunny rabbit—hopping from one person to the next, inciting joy wherever you go, never losing your energy. When you first met him, he found it slightly strange that a person could wear such a big smile in a funeral parlor. Of course, his boss could, but she had more than a few screws loose. But…it really didn’t seem like you did, from his initial investigation. You were just…endlessly happy. Which was a lovely sight to see. In his 5000 years of life, he’s never met a person so full of heart and delight. Your jubilant nature was something he adored about you; he found himself wanting to watch you everywhere you went, listen to every conversation you had, because you were just so enrapturing! Every time you found him and started excitedly chattering about your day or your new favorite thing or a person you met, he would hum happily and rest a cheek on his propped-up hand. He had a habit of looking at you like you were the most delicious thing in the world—like a lion to your bunny-like nature. This look of his, reserved only for you, sometimes caught you off guard, taking you out of your joyful musings, making your cheeks turn pink and eyes go slightly wide. He couldn’t help it! Your spirit was satiating to his old soul. And he also couldn’t help but enjoy your sweet and delicate features—he was a man, after all. He’d often invite you to have tea or dinner with him, just so he could close his eyes and listen to the bell-like ringing of your voice; but he was thoroughly surprised when, after a nice dinner by the harbor and a sweet goodnight, you placed a soft kiss on his lips. Oh. she believed this was a date. And…she seemed to enjoy it!, he thought with a composed smile. Happy to bring you such a lovely feeling, a feeling like those you graciously share with him every day—and pleasantly surprised to know you found him as alluring as he found you. So he brought you back into him, placing an even more fervent kiss to your lips—making you squeak, startled, but immediately return his fervor. Looks like the the lively bunny rabbit has caught the lion! And to his rapture, she was never going to let him go ♡

[livingfictionsystem]

Today seemed like a good day to roast the signs!

Now. These are just my own personal experience of each sign and obviously don't apply to everyone. I don't pre-judge anyone based on when they were born. I just thought it'd be fun and, since I love reading these things, I decided to make one. If this is accurate to you, awesome, feel free to tell me. If it isn't, awesome, feel free to tell me~

Virgo:

Some of the most authentic, witty, genuine people I've ever met. Pragmatic, honest, and ambitious. I've dated numerous Virgos. My Rising is in Virgo.

BUT.

I have never met a Virgo that did not let a single bad experience colour their entire view on something. If it went badly the first time, Virgos think it will Every Time, no argument. Also, AJ is Virgo, and that's a blight on the sign if I've ever seen one. (Also fucking just. BREATHE. Please. You blighters give me second-hand anxiety)

Cancer:

Caring, expressive, funny. Loyal to a fault. I think of them as the John Watson of signs. My best friend is a Cancer sign. Genuinely warm people that just wants their loved ones to be happy.

BUT

You take things way too personally and also you never stop crying.

Leo:

Another good friend of mine is a Leo. My moon is in Leo. Bold, fun, confident and I love a little ego in my friends. Or like a lot. They also have an uncanny intuitive sense, too. Freddie Thornhill from Vicious is a canonic Leo.

BUT:

You all realise you're allowed to be corrected? Admit you were wrong? Have the spotlight off you for two seconds? You're all so high energy and I need nap. (In my experience, you can also be loud.)

Aries:

Ooooh boy. My worst relationship was with an Aries. But I have a couple of good friends in Aries! You're bold, charming, and charismatic as hell. I always like the good and friendly competition I get from Aries. And they're actually pretty loyal friends. Like to a fault.

BUT:

The explosive bloody temper. The arrogance. How they're suddenly the expert in every subject brought up in their vicinity. Aries can be A Lot.

Gemini:

Honestly, this is the one sign I have NEVER gotten along with for long periods of time. And I do try. But! Wilde's best friend, Robbie Ross, was a Gemini and he was a creative writer and brilliant friend. (Who put up with a lot.) Great communicators.

BUT:

Speaking from personal experience, if there's someone locking themselves in a bathroom during a party and loudly threatening to hurt themselves, there's a 80% chance they're a Gemini. (20% is Aries.) Dramatic, vindictive, and most apt to lying.

Scorpio:

This is my sun sign, and I also married one of these spiteful fuckers. I love the depth, the aesthetic, the romanticising. And our intuition is one of the best out there. You know, when we listen to it.

BUT:

Love gets us SO fucked up. We can't help but go from "meant to be" to "dead to me." Romance brings out the best and worst in us. We're SO romantically ruled. Also our grudge-holding and pettiness can get like straight-up childish. Two Scorpios arguing can last for months and take cheap shots at each other. Voted most likely to risk jail to get back at an ex. We need to CHILL.

Taurus:

Used to be one of my favourite signs before I met Rowan. The respect for indulgence bordering on hedonism, how it balances with being surprisingly pragmatic, and many are So aesthetically inclined. And protective and parental.

BUT:

Sensitive as a Richter scale. Their communication likes to tilt between letting things build up until a breaking point, or jumping several conclusions within a millisecond. Many have severe control issues.

Capricorn:

I like Caps. Some people think they're cold, but I think they're assertive and have a good sense of boundaries. I love their ambition and they're pretty genuine.

BUT:

Do ALL of you have depression? Happiness takes like a 7-day processing time, apparently. Your mood is SO connected to your energy levels, too. Are you okay?

Sagittarius:

Intuitive as HELL. Also creative and down to back you in your impulses. The amount of ambition and energy they put into their goals is admirable. Genuine friends, a good friend of mine is a Sagittarius.

BUT:

They cut off people quick enough that it breaks the sound barrier. They'd rather burn down a building than let the occupants walk all over them again. Which clashes with the usual desire to be the parent of the friend group. Also impulsive as all hell.

Pisces:

I've never spent a ton of time around this sign. They usually seem like they've got a pretty good sense of the future. They always have a back-up plan and are intuitive. Pretty good sense of humour, too.

BUT:

That ego will swing pretty quick from king of the world to lower than dirt, won't it? A very emotional sign. Once that temper is reached, there's no going back.

Aquarius:

This is a fun one. Creative, spontaneous, usually downright weird. Sherlock is a canonic Aquarius, which explains a lot. They're usually highly intelligent. I've dated only one, and it was one of my best relationships.

BUT:

"Down to earth" doesn't apply when these blighters can't FIND the earth. They can be unreliable-- a LOT are pretty selfish. "Out of touch" is also a good descriptor.

Libra:

Oscar Wilde is a Libra. A witty, charismatic sign. They also usually have a pretty good aesthetic/artistic sense. So many Libras have me laughing until I cry. GREAT at parties. I get along with a good lot of them.

BUT:

I have Never seen a Libra admit they were wrong. They also can be pretty flaky and unreliable. They will sit on that fence until they become one with it.

-Xanthe

[itzandromeda]

Frank Grimes, from The Simpsons, is such a tragic character to me. He desperately wants a better life but no matter what he does, he is stuck in his one room apartment above and below two bowling alleys. The man's life story tells a tale of a boy who had nothing but hardship. He had to work from the ground up to get where he was and yet he still wasn't in the best life he should've been in. It's actually ironic that he lives between two bowling alleys. The whole point of bowling is to knock down as many pins in one turn each round, with strikes (knocking every pin in the lane down in one go) being the best way. Grimes has never "hit a strike" in his life, yet Homer has consistently hit a strike and occasionally a spare every single day. Also, he is literally good at bowling going so far as to hit a perfect bowling scare of 300 that briefly made him a local celebrity.

Honestly, Frank's crash out against the Simpson family was justified. Why is it that Homer gets a 4 bed 2 story house with 2 cars, 3 loving children, a beautiful, smart, loving wife, family pets, and plenty of friends when he is a dope who does nothing but eat and drink all day.

I haven't even mentioned the numerous accolades, memorabilia, and experiences he was able to achieve. Homer has achieved so much in his lifetime that it's impossible for anyone else to achieve these things in 5 lifetimes. The man went to the moon, met the president, met aliens, etc and yet Frank Grimes has nothing to show for his years of hard work and dedication, not even a wife. The closet he's ever had to love is a hired prostitute. I know the answer and it's one that reflects a harsh light on the real world we live in.

Hardwork and dedication get you no where.

I don't mean that in the way you think. We know that Homer Simpson has never truly shown dedication or hardwork in the show except for those times where he has to do a bit of leg work which then becomes nullified as he learns nothing from the experience. By the next episode Homer Simpson is back to his usual lazy self and yet he still has all the best parts of life for someone in his lifestyle.

The reason is because Homer is likeable. Frank Grimes doesn't have time to goof around or make friends which was why he had no girlfriend or friends. He doesn't have time to be charismatic like Homer Simpson. The man has no social life because all did was study or work. Homer Simpson does nothing but crack jokes, be unapologetically himself, and he's also stupid. Homer's stupidity makes others around him feel better about themselves. They also feel less intimidated by him as opposed to Frank.

If this is the case then why is it when Frank started acting like Homer nothing went right.

Simply put once someone has an image of you in their head it's hard to change it. Frank's image was that of an uptight workaholic who never cared for interactions. That's why many never really bothered to befriend him. Then, the moment he switched to Homer's mentality his new actions felt unnatural. The very uptight workaholic man mooning his boss isn't the same as the lazy dope who barely gets his work done mooning his boss. It was unbecoming for Frank to suddenly start this behavior after his years of being the only person who actually did their job at the plant. Not only was it unnatural but the way he executed this behavior made him look batshit crazy. Not to mention how he did it all to mock Homer and how he acted put people off because Homer was very likeable to them. Homer is essentially a personality hire in his workplace.

Frank's situation mirrors that of the real world and how we treat people we see as "likeable" or "popular." We often let the likable people get away with more deplorable acts than we would for someone who is less likeable. There are many ways to be likeable with some being good and some being bad. From the outside looking in, Homer's "likeablility" is bad because he is essentially a "lolcow" in his reallife, but for Homer it's good because he either doesn't care or is to dumb to care/know.

To be likeable you have to make people feel comfortable. Pretty people are often at the top of the likability billboard as the majority of our celebrities are very attractive. You can also be funny, or entertaining in any way to be likeable. Homer fits this category because he is able to turn his often childish and crude humor in a bright light through his stupidity.

Alot of likeable people are often rich or just not poor. Our society is conditioned to see poor people as scum of the earth due to the whole "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" mentality. This is Ironic because all Frank has ever done in his life IS pull himself up by him bootstraps and yet he still isn't considered likeable. While yes, a hardworking person is seen as admirable, he still didn't make others feel comfortable in his presence. His antisocial appearance intimidated those around him.

Many traits can make you SEEM likeable, but you have to have an approachable appearance. If people feel intimidated by you they are more likely to avoid you. This can be how you style your hair and dress, how you look as far as attractiveness, and even how your "vibe" or "aura" feels. Homer rocked his comeover with no shame and wore a plain but relaxed looking outfit. His look isn't to hard to digest. The bright colors make him look brighter and more happier in appearance. Frank, on the other hand, was usually spotted in a fully buttoned buttondown collared shirt with a black neck tie, a packed briefcase that had it's material hanging out and his badge clearly displayed. This outfit is reminiscent of a ruler follower as it seems he follows the dresscode religiously. His colors are muted/desaturated when compared to Homer's bright colors which makes him look dull and boring. He also sports an unremarkable box haircut that screams he isn't spontaneous or is very serious. Even his boxy glasses scream uptight. Nothing about Frank's wardrobe is fun or interesting.

His attractiveness is pretty standard as he doesn't really stand out. (pun intended haha) I would like to point out his thick boxy eyebrows that makes him look rigid and unfriendly. The vibe frank gives off is strict, unfun, and unfriendly. Everything about him is too perfect. Homer's entire life is accident prone, spontaneous, and generally silly. Frank's is a rule follower who probably does cross word puzzels as his only fun activity.

Lastly, I'd like to mention how Frank's story of a poor abandoned orphan who spent his life hustling and studying under hard conditions makes people feel bad about their lives. His image of hard work and dedication makes others around him feel that they aren't good enough or are unimportant. When someone is too virtuous or too good it's makes others around them dislike them due to feeling inferior.

Overall Frank has been unlucky in life and love and unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it. Even flipping 180 in the other direction of life wasn't enough. If anything, it was too much and led to his early demise. Poor Grimes only ever wanted to be comfortable in life, yet he would never achieve that due to people like Homer Simpson. To be happy is to be loved, and if you're never loved you've never truly lived.

RIP Frank Grimes.

Ps — if anyone read this to the end, thank you! I'm sorry about the typos and bad grammar! I'm to lazy to fix it😭🤚🏼 Maybe let me know what you think? Was this interesting? I certainly thought it was. I would love to know how others feel about certain characters in the show. I like to watch it when I gts on those sketchy 6 hour long youtube videos 😭 So far, my favorite character is Sideshow bob, maybe I'll make a post about him some day or maybe I'll finally upload that poem I'd been promising. Who knows 🤷🏼‍♀️ Until then I'll be here thinking to hard about silly things, because I like it!

[where-the-sabia-sings]

A few crumbs and disconnect thoughts on BraMex:

* strap in for the new romance trope in the town bby, heirs in anxiety.

* But whereas Alejandro miseries are all born from the failed expectations he thinks he didn’t achieved as man “born” of empires

* Never mind that those expectations were made and put on him by Antonio who desired making Mexico the heir and son he wished he was for his own father (as you guys can see I’ve come back with a lot of daddy issues to unpack in those losers)

* However, Manuela’s anxiety is product of her desperation to achieve her place in the grand scheme of things, finally becoming the so long waited Country of the Future

* And believe or not, it’s in those contradictions that they met

* Usually, Manuela wouldn’t be considered his type. I mean the way Carlo’s describes their moony eyes cousin is not what Alejandro considers sexy and they only get to meet each other in middles of XIX during all these processes of independence occurring in Latam, is not exactly the most romantic thing for a pre teen nation

* But then he later see Manuela, perhaps after WWII and long gone is that stuck up sweet girl cousin. Now he sees a fuxking belladonna with the most gorgeous smile and a hot temper that got him on his knees envisioning the next top power couple to ever exist in the Americas

* And damn he finally found someone to share his love for diplomatics, another lover of using cultural soft power to sweep the old hags (and idiot Alfred) off their feet’s

* For Manu, Alejandro is that new wave of fresh air she much need

* He might not be charismatic as Cuba was, but damn the man knew how to be captivating as hell and is the only nation alive who wants to talk 24/7 of benefits of exporting one’s face to the world

* They dance to each other’s rhythm and they fucking love

* It might not deep as the clusterfucker thing she has with Paco, but in the end of the day girls just wanna have fun and kiss hot boys/girls i guess

* Then oh no

* We’ve reached the part where we kinda have to talk about how being heir of father’s empire only for not apparently getting to achieve all the glories who were sold to you from the cradle

* And having to “fail” in face of the evangelical brat almost abandoned son of England ugh

* Cause in the end of the day they are both children of empires trying to runaway from all the miseries, whether inflicted on them or by them on others, who also are so desperate to build their own apotheosis in spite of everything

* They sooo want to be their own thing and sometimes it seems incredibly impossible cause while they can’t renegade the vital influences of their other parents, the vices they inherited from their colonial parentes seem so hard to break free

* What do you mean waging war against a neighbor relative is bad? Dad made his legacy by defeating others and never looked back, why should I not crush those who are against me? Whaaaat? Does almost massacring my brothers/sisters/cousins/mother means I might not be so different from awful father???

* Anyways now back to the real deal

* They definitely they were all the rage after 1970 World Cup

* Manu was at her peak the girl being the first to win three championships at the time and finally getting a few days far way from the nightmare happening in home at the moment

* she was horny to the bone and bby Alejandro was more than ready to fulfill his belladonna wishes

* Nowadays humm 🤔

* He tries really hard to no sound so done every single time Manu insists making Chaves (El Chavo) jokes and memes

* telenovelas are prohibited topic amongst these two. We may watch tough, BUT we don’t talk about who does best and definitely we don’t argue who has the greatest villain

[mediocre-eternity]

What do you think of Daniel's new body since you turned him? Is it much different from how it was when you first fell for him? Do you miss his old body with it's all it's mortal imperfections and frailties?

I don’t think anybody has ever wondered about this before. I also don’t think I’ve asked this myself, though I have noticed considerable changes in Daniel, especially since we are close again.

Obviously Daniel and I cannot share our minds anymore. That is the most painful change, and consequently the hardest to get used to. I absolutely abhor it and I knew, I knew it would become a giant wedge between us. As I gulped his blood down my throat to change him into what he is today I was thinking of it. I don’t know why this is biological law for our kind, but it’s crushing and unfair. Imagine the soul that you can confidently call your soulmate, that you share everything with, that you trust more than any other person in your entire pathetic immortality has the most intimate connection shared severed. But I am too selfish and having Daniel as my companion for as long as this little stupid rock can spin is worth it. I just haven’t let the tragedy go yet. I’ve gotten better at communicating with him but the challenges are still there.

I shouldn’t talk. I suppose my Maker would love that type of privilege again. So much for unfairness.

And of course there’s all sorts of positives to Daniel being immortal now. Though largely his patience, gentleness and curiosity has remained the same, I feel as though other parts of him have unlocked, especially now that he’s regaining his faculties. He is much more charismatic and confident. Daniel has always loved meeting new people, especially the eccentrics, but now he will guide himself to find them. He’s even started to take my hand to lead me where he wants to go. He is…. Incredibly irresistible when he does this. It’s how I always wanted to see him and perhaps… maybe… what I always needed in him. I don’t know what I original goals for Daniel were, but this has now become the totality of it. That confidence. That embodiment of the monster that he is.

Ah, well. He begged for it. He can relish in it if he wants to. Louis always teases me that he earned it. Certainly, he did. He’s the only vampire we know of that clung to that hope until his dying breath. Serendipity or something.

But I’m getting off-track.

Again, I don’t really know what my original ideas for Daniel were. When I first met him at least. And perhaps for the first couple of years I got to know him. I unfortunately wasn’t really paying much attention to the limitations of a mortal body when I became his lover. Of course I knew what could kill him, that I could potentially kill him, and the minor dangers mortals face every single day. But the consequences of giving someone (almost) everything they want was beyond me at the time. Which is how he ended up with the disease that eventually killed him. I don’t miss that at all.

Sometimes I wish I could see his body react to my touch in a mortal way, again. It didn’t take much teasing, or much blood, to push him to a mortal orgasm. Oh certainly the exchange of immortal Blood is much more satisfying, but I could make Daniel utterly crumble in no time at all. Now it’s a bit more challenging, not that I mind. Again, Daniel has become very good at taking the lead in several different ways.

I do really appreciate having a lover with immortal stamina again, especially the one I’m devoted to the most. Getting to show Daniel the most intimate secrets of Preternatural Kind was unusual but is now so, so sensual. I wouldn’t trade Daniel’s body now for anything. The privilege of watching him extend how he can move and react is too beautiful. And now, I have a true companion.

That was the first time I’ve ever written that down.

Daniel is my immortal companion.

We are in hell and we will watch the heat death of the universe together.

Devil’s Minion, indeed.

[the-archangel]

Close to You

Day 3 of Cyber Hanami using the prompt "In Bloom"

A fluffy break in the tension of the last two posts, and indeed the next two!

V was laying on the bed in his apartment, staring at the ceiling, tapping his fingers on his chest and trying to figure out what he’d done wrong.

Johnny was sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, head dropped, Johnny is bored, this could be dangerous...

“Shit V, we haven’t left the apartment for two fucking days, move your sorry ass and let’s kill some bad guys.”

V turned his head, looking distractedly at his head terrorist,

“Nah Johnny, not in the mood, maybe tomorrow?”

“That’s what you said yesterday, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Truth was, Johnny kinda knew what was bothering V, but sincerely hoped he was wrong and that V was worrying over that stealth gig turned messy, or about not being able to afford the Vectra he’d been eyeing up, because if he was right about what was worrying the young merc, it was going to make their lives even more complicated – if that was even possible.

V wandered into the shower leaving Johnny leaning on the sink, deep in thought, he’d decided maybe it would be better to just get it over with, to confront V, get it out in the open and deal with it. Following him over to the wardrobe, the Rockerboy crosses his arms and leans against the cupboards with one foot on the shelf,

“Admit it, it’s Kerry isn’t it?”

V’s emerald eyes suddenly look sad, he slumps down on the bean bag with a huff.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Well I live in your brain so yeah, but I imagine there are scopbeetles who would look at you and know you’re lovesick.”

V looks offended, “Fuck you Johnny, I am not...I’m just...confused.”

V had seen Kerry a few times now, from the beginning he felt a connection with the guy, he found him attractive sure, but more than that, he felt that he knew him, that they’d be good together, that he’d like to know him better. There’d been flirting, an undeniable mutual attraction, but over the weeks it had turned into something else, until the last time they met, a couple of days ago there had been great sex followed by vague promises and declarations. Yet every single time, just as things were getting going, Kerry walked away, or asked V to leave him to his thoughts which was even worse.

“Why does he always walk away? He never invites me over to his place or offers to come back with me, I don’t get it, what did I do?”

V sees himself as a pretty straightforward kinda guy, whenever he’d been into someone they’d meet up then hang at each other’s places and get to know each other over the last night’s cold pizza and beer before the inevitable fizzle out and parting of ways. This felt different though, V was pretty sure he was out of his depth, not only was Kerry intimidatingly gorgeous and charismatic, he was also much more experienced in these kinds of things and complicated in ways V couldn’t even imagine (though it would for sure make him feel better to know that one day he’d know the singer better than anybody ever had).

Johnny felt for the kid, especially knowing that back in the day, that’s exactly what Kerry would have been into too, hell they spent years crashing with whichever input was in favour at the time in between them sharing crummy apartments that made V’s look like a palace. Kerry had clearly matured in the last 54 years, not jumping on every dick that was waved his way, taking his time, Johnny had to admit he was kinda proud of him. Course the reason could just be that he’s got a different guy in his bed every night, but he wasn’t ready to drop that idea into V’s already swirling mind.

“You’re right V, Kerry is a walking contradiction, fun as hell, annoying as fuck, kinda sweet, worse temper than mine, wanting people close, then pushing them away,” Johnny sighs and looks at his boots, “he likes you, but he’s scared.”

V snorts, “Scared? Of what?”

Looking earnestly into V’s incredulous eyes, “Of me mostly I guess,” Johnny sighs.

-

V had seen, through Johnny’s memories, the almost passionately tempestuous relationship the two rockers had. The love they had for each other was obvious, but whereas Kerry’s was partly based on lust and intrigue, Johnny’s was arguably purer, based on friendship and a genuine care for the other man, not that he would ever have admitted any of this at the time.

Despite this, or maybe because of it, Johnny spent the majority of his friendship with Kerry, either leading him on, letting him down or damning his choices in everything from inputs to managers to life choices and beyond. The thing that always united them was music and when they couldn’t even do that together any more their relationship was over, though the love remained.

Johnny had come out of it relatively unscathed, didn’t expect anything from anyone, didn’t get it. Right up to the end he never wished that he’d done anything different. Only that Kerry hadn’t been such a pussy and had carried on making music with him.

Kerry wasn’t so lucky, even in the early days he would go out of his way to impress Johnny in any way he could, a riff, stolen booze, a new high. As tensions rose between them it was more fun to antagonize him, maybe with an input that hated Johnny’s guts, or by ending up with a successful solo career without him. With Johnny gone, Kerry came to realise that a fair portion of his own personality had only been there as a reaction to his rejection by Silverdyne and it took him years of self-examination and intrusive psychological intervention to build himself back up to the seemingly confident, self-assured presence you got today.

“You remind him of me, and he can’t afford to let me back into his head, he’s not strong enough to go through it again.”

V pondered Johnny’s seemingly wise words, but he wasn’t so sure that the famous Silverdyne ego wasn’t mostly what he was hearing.

“Mhm, maybe,” is all he said.

-

V decided to take on a couple of gigs to get him through another sleepless night. The first was a straightforward extraction, neutralise the goons, rescue the kidnapped woman, didn’t even need to engage his brain much. After the car had taken the victim back to her family, V sat on the kerb and let Johnny smoke a cigarette.

V looks at the spec for the next gig, “You’re fucking shitting me,” he mutters under his breath.

“That’s.....yeah,” agrees Johnny.

-

They arrive at the swanky apartment building in The Glen and sit in the Porsche for a moment looking up at the Penthouse, the target for the gig.

“So, how you gonna handle this?”

“Disable the cameras, hack the door protocols, finagle the strong-room lock, find the gear, klep the gear, swift exit.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Eh, I’ll deal with the rest later.”

V was right, the apartment’s security held no surprises and had no chance against someone with his skill set. The target was in a secured room behind a pass-code protected door, it took a bit of deduction work from them both but they figured it out, klepped the goods, accidentally swiped a few other things just lying around and deltaed.

Back in the car the rocker looks at the merc with a raised eyebrow,

“So, what now?”

V chewed on his bottom lip, pondering his options,

“Take it to the drop off point I guess.”

Johnny slaps his hand on the dashboard in frustration – or at least tries to – “Seriously V, this is exactly the excuse you need, stop being a pussy and sort your shit out.”

V sulks, but knows that Johnny is annoyingly right, “’Kay,” he says sullenly and sets off for North Oak.

Pulling up to Kerry’s drive, V is surprised to find that his metrics have been recognised by the security systems, and the Samurai mask emblazoned gates swing smoothly open to let him in. Johnny pointedly does not look over his glasses in a told-you-so manner, though he really wants to.

Kerry is already standing in the doorway as the Porsche glides down the drive. He’s dressed casually in jeans and an old sweater, looking god-like even so, thinks V. In a moment of blind panic, the merc wonders why he’s come, what’s he supposed to say to this amazing man who probably doesn’t want him here anyway? Too late now, turning round and leaving would make him seem a real gonk, so he slaps on his best shy smile and gets out of the car.

“Never can get over seeing his car again,” purrs Kerry running his fingertips over the roof. V’s cheeks darken as he imagines where else that feather light touch could be used. “We had some preem times in there, travelling to gigs, sleeping it off after, heh. What brings you to Casa Del Kerry V?”

V swallows, “Erm, so I just got off a gig and, well not just... maybe an hour ago, and there was this guy, I mean he wasn’t there but he lived there, shit...”

“Calm down kid,” reassures Kerry chuckling, “deep breath, and... go!”

Nervous of tying his tongue in knots again and making an even bigger gonk of himself, V opens the passenger door of the Porsche and reaches behind the seat to grab what’s there, offering it to Kerry with an outstretched arm.

“Shit V, you found it!” Kerry takes the offered guitar and runs his fingers down the fret board, “There is nothing like the sound of the fucking Orphean, nothing comes close. I knew you were the man for the job...”

Kerry pauses as if he’s let out a secret, “Oops.”

“I fucking knew it,” smirks Johnny.

“So, it was you. You’re the one who posted the job? Why the assumed name? Wh...I mean, sheesh.”

“Come in out of the rain and I’ll try to explain, drink?”

“Sure, bourbon?”

“Sure,”

Kerry fixes their drinks and finds space on the couch for them both, tinkling V’s ice to invite him over. “Come sit next to Kerry,” he says brightly, tapping the seat next to him.

V happily complies, taking the drink and humming in surprise and satisfaction as Kerry’s arm is draped over his shoulders and his finger traces the line of his tattoo as he speaks,

“Thing is V, it’s the only way I could think of to get you here, you never asked to come, never invited me to your place, didn’t even know if you were interested...”

“Shit, Ker. I would’ve been over in a heartbeat if you’d’ve asked, I didn’t think you wanted me to come.”

The tension on both their faces finally cracks, Kerry looks at floor shaking his head and smiling with relief, and V throws his head back, laughing at what a gonk they’ve both been.

“How did you know it was me who’d take the gig, to bring the guitar I mean?”

“I didn’t, but I’ve had a ton of shit klepped over the years and knew that eventually you’d be the one to find it, plus, Rogue owes me a favour so...”

_

Johnny materialises at the end of the bar determined to give V some ‘told you so’ type crap. He slides his glasses to the end of his nose and looks over them at V’s hand resting on Kerry’s thigh, at the arm pulling the merc in close, at the way their eyes linger. “Jeez, I’m not up for watching this shit again.” he complains as he disappears earning a smirk from the luckiest merc in NC.

[miffyellebeer]

*cracks knuckles*

hello, hi i figured this should be the first thing you read before you go through anything else because i don't think this blog does enough justice... nor does it even crack the surface when it comes to my feelings for you. first of all, i just want to say happy anniversary!! :) we made it one year. one whole year. if this was a baby (which it should be) it would be walking and maybe even saying his or her words by now. why aren't you having my kids yet, by the way? you've made me so happy this past year. well, actually, you've made me happy for longer than a year. i've been happy since you've come in my life, really. i don't think there's anyone out there in the world who is as lucky as i am. you're really, really something special. annoyingly special. i love you for the woman that you are. i love everything that makes you similar to me but weirdly i love everything that makes you different to me, as well. you've made me an all-round better person, madison. i feel inspired to do better every day because of you. you're like a light that never runs out of fuse, but that light has changed my life. you're my favourite pillow i think about whenever i'm sleeping away from our bed. i don't like spending my days without you. i don't like living without you, actually, i don't think i can do it anymore. i know we've come as some sort of test to each other because i've never met anyone like you (in a good way). you appreciate all that i am but you also challenge me intellectually, and i find myself always learning from you. you always keep me on my toes, you know? i've never had that. i've also never slept with someone over and over again and have it feel like the first time, every single time. you're like an addiction i can't kick. but i'm not resisting it anymore, because even with the emotional intimacy you've made me feel safe, listened to... i don't tell you enough what you do for me. i never thought i could feel this close to someone. i'm not used to things falling the way they have for us, but im thankful for whoever's up there that you fell into my lap.. quite literally. your patience and willingness to want to give things a shot from the beginning was almost too good to be true, you seemed almost too good to be true... especially with how gorgeous, charismatic and kind hearted you were and still are. i should really be worshipping you at your feet and feed into that god complex you have. :) i know you're my girlfriend but you're also one of my favourite humans. ever. you're my absolute favouriteee favourite favourite and i don't think that will ever change.

happy one year, babe

h

[praeteritus-memories-muses]

Name: Ajax Childe / Tartaglia

Series: Genshin Impact

Continuity: Video Game

Age: 20

Height: 5'11"

Birthday: July 20th

Birthplace: Snezhnaya

Orientation: Bisexual

Species: Human

Occupation: Fatui Harbinger

Sibling(s): Teucer, Tonia and Anthon

Bio:

Childe, who's true name is Ajax, comes from a large family in Snezhnaya with not much to their name in terms of mora. They weren't entirely poor, but a large family meant that Childe often received hand-me-downs from his siblings and not much to eat in terms of food.

His name alone was after a great adventurer from a fictional story his father loved throughout his life, which surely engraved a thirst for new sights and adventure within him. Yet soon that love of adventure, which would've surely made him an admirable member of the Adventures Guild as an adult, had started to twist into a thirst for bloodlust after countless battles within the Sneznaya government due to the Tsarista, the cryo archon, waging a rebellion against Celestia and the other archons. This news shocked many elders within Snezhnaya, even Childe who had always seen the cryo archon had a fragile but loving heart.

At the age of fourteen, he fled home with nothing but a piece of bread and a sword in hand in search of new battles and adventure to be found. He'd fight bears, wolves and other wild vicious animals with nothing but his bare hands and sword. That is, he was alone until he met a mysterious Swordswoman.

He ventured with this woman into the Abyss, a corrupted area of Tevyat that was comprised of the cursed citizens of the ancient nation of Khaenri'ah that was destroyed by the archons.

Childe was inside the Abyss for 3 months, yet not a single soul knows what happened. He won't talk about it, not out of trauma, but out of sworn secrecy to it's secrets. Yet no time at all had passed in the human world when he returned, his sisters and mother telling him that he was gone for three days.

Yet something in the Abyss changed him. He no longer was shy around others. He was charismatic, confident, trouble making, aggressive and argumentive around other people. Yet his parents and siblings would only see the side he wanted them to see - which was a charismatic and confident teenager.

Yet Childe would start to get into fights. Each one making him crave more of that high that victory brought. His fights would get so bad that he would get into one with a Fatui, and his defeat resulted in his father having to settle matters. With no money to give for the Fatui soldier to leave his son alone, he had no choice but to enlist Childe into the Fatui for the Tsaritsa.

Reluctant and angered, it took a long time for Childe to finally get used to the life of a military soldier. His father hoped that make being in the military would calm him down, instead it only made him crave more bloodshed and war. At some point, he realized that he wanted to be on top as the greatest warrior who ever lived. One that people would write stories and ballads about, not power but glory instead.

Childe rose through the ranks and climbed all the way to the 11th Harbinger of the Fatui, one of the highest ranks you can get. He's met with the Tsaritsa several times and even speaks with her regularly. Despite being the archon of ice, her heart was certainly warm.

During his time in the Fatui, he changed his name to Childe. Mostly to protect his family but also to match this new cold persona he was trying to don. His name as the 11th Harbinger is Tartaglia, chosen by the Tsaritsa.

Childe is charismatic, friendly, confident, argumentive and filled with a lust for fighting and blood. He's mastered several weapons and he currently wields a bow solely to get better at it like he does with other weapons.

He will also never turn down a fight. Someone wants to fight him? He will challenge them, even if it means certain death for him. Yet as much as he craves fighting, he loves and adores his family. Thanks to the money a Harbinger makes, he visits home once every six months to give his family all sorts of gifts - especially toys and dolls for his younger siblings.

Though only his oldest sisters, mother and father know about his true role as the Fatui. His younger siblings are kept in the dark until they're old enough to understand, and hopefully warn about never working for the Tsaritsa.

Childe is currently stationed in Liyue Harbor though, tasked with taking the Godhood away from the geo archon for the Tsaritsa. He hates how warm it is, and misses the cold of Snezhnaya, but he welcomes the new opportunities to fight. After all, he only seeks the glory and high of battle.

[luna-writes-stuff]

What types my favourite Game Of Thrones characters would fall for

Includes Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Oberyn Martell, Margaery Tyrell, Brienne Of Tarth, Daenerys Targaryen, and Tormund Giantsbane

————————————————————————

Robb Stark:

Robin Stark is 100% the person to fall for personality rather than looks. And something he has always admired, is someone with a creative mind. In the North, there is a lot of pessimism and realism. There isn’t much room for glee, daydreaming and imagination. So when he first meets you in one of the garden, writing away in your own notebook filled with words of your own worlds and thoughts, he is intrigued. Of course, you are adamant about talking about your work, let alone show it. But Robb is patient. He spends every single day talking to you, entertaining you and even accompanying you on walks. This man is completely gone for you. So, when you ultimately decide to give him a sneak peek, his entire face lights up. And your writing? It’s insane. He needs a library filled with your books right now. He is constantly asking about new ideas, even offering some, though they’re usually a tad bit….dark. But he tries! Will absolutely brag about it to others. He knows you don’t like to show everyone, but he will definitely let others know that his significant other can write. Don’t ever shut up about your ideas and prompts. This man wants to hear all of them. Every single one, even the late night cold sweat dream ones.

——

Sansa Stark:

Sansa can be rough around the edges. And who is to blame her after all she’s been dragged through? She needs someone who will look at things the kinder way, yet be decisive. Someone who can make interest out of the best of their heart. Sansa deals with issues from a neutral perspective, unless it is something close to her. But she can use a compassionate look at things. Then, all the same, she needs a supporting shoulder constantly. Someone who is able to slightly alter her decisions, but still let her do the main thing. If she wishes to have someone punished, they will. But all in good due. When the sun sets, she can let her guard down and rant about all the issues on her mind. She needs a confidential person for that, and who better than you? A comforting hand, a loving embrace, a gentle kiss. A good nice rest in the arms of those she loves most.

——

Jon Snow:

Jon has humour. He does. It’s hidden, but he does. And we saw how he was with Ygritte. Make him laugh in any way, and his heart can - and will - skip a beat. Whether it is because you are clumsy, childish, mischievous, or simply hilarious. He adores you. Something like you in the North is rare, and he plans on treasuring it for as long as he can. And when there is a day you won’t be laughing or trying to make others laugh, he grows concerned so quickly. It’s all fun and jokes until you stop laughing. All over you, constantly. Hiding you under his robe, standing in front of you the entire time, shooting you reassuring glances and smiles, reaching for your arm often to check if you’re still there. He does it. It’s those little gestures that grow so endearing, that you cannot help but smile at him. And that’s honestly all he needs.

——

Oberyn Martell:

Give him a charismatic partner. Someone who teases him back twice as hard, returns his pick up lines and messes with him from time to time. Play around with him and tug on his heart strings just a little too tight. He loves it. Playful smiles, far-off winking, stares at each other from the other side of the room. He was taken with you when your eyes first met his. He immediately knew there was this something about you. He’ll introduce you to others constantly, even if you are not around. You don’t know he does this, but he is so enamoured with you, he wants to announce it to everyone, even though that might not always be as clever. You’re being under protection the entire time, even from a distance. He has to make sure you are safe, constantly. If something were to happen to you, he’d never forgive himself.

——

Margaery Tyrell:

Margaery is a very artistic person. She grow up with artists all around her, and though she is somewhat skilled herself, this doesn’t mean she doesn’t admire the others. You’d have met in her home castle, working on one of your pieces when she simply walks in. Initially, she had the rooms mixed up, but she remained once she found your projects. She was a princess: you couldn’t tell her to get out. Of a room. Of a palace. Which her family owns. She starts taking immediately, apologising for entering the wrong room, but then moving on to your works decorating the walls. It is a whole different technique than she is used to, and it is somewhat entrancing. She’ll ask for inspiration, motivation and all those things, genuinely curious about your manner of working. From that day, she shows up twice a day, once with lunch, once without anything. Those talks made her fall for you at first; not your art, not your looks - though that was a win -, but you passion about your hobbies and career. And seeing you so motivated about her, awes her so much.

——

Brienne Of Tarth:

BIG STRONG WOMAN GOES WHOOSH. But when big strong woman sees compassionate and kind significant other, she grows all soft. She’ll do anything to grab your attention, though she will be hesitant at first. She has dealed with a lot of prejudice and harmful words throughout her life, and she fears you will reject her. Deep down, she knows you wouldn’t. You couldn’t even harm a fly. But she’s insecure. Yet, the second you choose to talk to her after seeing her countless attempts, she freezes completely. You’re actually talking to her? Thoughts everywhere. No words whatsoever. You observe her when she’s training, stay by her side when she is travelling, and offer to clean her wounds after fights. And it’s so intimate and endearing, and Brienne grows so flustered of it every single time. There will never be a day she wouldn’t. Big strong woman turns into mush.

——

Daenerys Targaryen:

Daenerys is definitely the person who is interested in all kinds of cultures and arts. And what better way to introduce those to her than to write music about it? You’d accompany her on her journey to Westeros, offering entertainment and music on the ships and walks. Whether you can sing or play an instrument, it doesn’t matter to her. But when she first met you on that square, trying to earn a little bit of money for your family, she immediately offered shelter and food. And ever since, you have been with her. You’ll be sitting on your bed, creating your own musical piece, and she’ll simply join you, her hand resting on your lap as a silent encouragement, and - if possible - her head on your shoulder, staring out of the windows in simple bliss. After everything she’s been through and is going through, you are her rock; her one place she can be safe and let go for a short moment.

——

Tormund Giantsbane:

Ironically enough, I’d think he’d go really well with someone incredibly stubborn. Someone who is set to do things their own way and will do anything to get it. He falls head over heels for looks primarily, but the confidence you radiate in your speech and actions actually stuns him. You go against him or Jon? He isn’t insulted. Kind of turned on, which he wouldn’t admit to you. Jon knows all about it though. But you can, weirdly enough, intimidate him. You’re so sure of yourself, it makes him doubt himself. Surely you wouldn’t need someone like him? It is not that he gets insecure about it, not at all, he simply hesitates his attitude towards you. The last thing he wants is for you to grow pissed at him and never look at him again. He couldn’t live with that. Once you two do get together, it is like fire and fire. Usually, that would be a bad thing, but your playful banter, teasing looks and general breathtaking combination is something to actually die for.