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okay-babe · 3 months

Note

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."

#alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #.writes #requests

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zhongrin · 2 years

Text

sayang

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, diluc, childe, xiao, ayato, kazuha, albedo, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ absolutely teeth-rotting fluff, slightly suggestive on some

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli frequently calls you “dear”, “darling”, and “my dearest”. if you’re married, he would be the type to call you and always refers to you as “(my) wife/husband/spouse”. whenever he feels a little clingy or needy misses you, sweeter nicknames like “treasure”, “jewel”, “sweetheart”, or “little one” would come out, and that’s your cue to drop everything you’re doing to coddle this man.

whatever nicknames you use to refer to him, he loves it all - just your sweet voice calling his name will make his day brighter…. just be careful when you call him with his old archon names, especially in the bedroom ;)

diluc only calls you “beloved” in private at first, but as you get comfortable with your budding relationship he starts to use them in public too.

he finds himself loving the ticklish sensation in his chest when you refer to him as “my boyfriend” or “my husband” when talking with other people. cuter nicknames like “my firefly”, “boyfie”, “hubby”, and “my love” will always bring his cheeks aflame. he abhors his “darknight hero” nickname, but he thinks it’s not so bad when you call him “my darknight”.

childe has an assortment of nicknames he calls you and the list is quite literally endless, but he especially abuses the use of “babe”, “baby”, “love”, and “my water fairy”. oh, and you know those weird nicknames lovers have for each other? that’s the two of you. there are probably a lot of inside jokes between you both for those nicknames, and he especially loves the weirded-out looks you get from strangers because they would never understand.

still, his absolute favorite has to be you whispering his actual name as you stare into each other’s eyes under the moonless nights, with the overabundance of love he doesn't think he deserves contained within your voice - “ajax”.

xiao’s names carry a multitude of memories and significance. a new beginning, a war machine, a symbol of protection, a desperate attempt to save one’s life... but when they fall from your lips it turns into something dear, something precious and pure, free of bloodshed and karma and war. like you’ve washed it anew and cradled it within your warm arms for millennia, your warmth seeping into cold, cracked jade.

he mostly calls you by your name, only because you calling him by his renewed name makes his heart do a little flip and a stutter. but on some rarer days, you might hear him utter sweeter names like “my dreamcatcher” or even “love”...

just maybe.

.... if you’re really lucky.

ayato is a fan of calling you embarrassing nicknames in public so he can see you lose your composure. “sweetheart”, “darling”, “my dear”, “my love”... he has no shame. when your engagement is finalized, there isn’t a day that passes where he doesn’t call you “my fiance” or “my betrothed” at least ten times. people referring you to “mr/mrs/mx kamisato” after your formal union never fails to bring a genuinely proud smile to his lips.

you won’t see him lose his cool no matter how many cringy nicknames you use on him. secretly, he enjoys your attempt and has a tier list of the most amusing ones you manage to think of. so far “my black camellia”, “mr. pillar of teasery”, and “sugar daddy” (he had no idea what it meant at first but he lost it when he finally found out what it meant) are the top three.

kazuha’s nicknames are as poetic and as free as he is. he doesn't settle for any specific names and every day you have a chance of getting a new one, but you’ll know he’s calling for you because he’ll be using that special tone. “dove”, “sparrow”, “maple”, “leaf”, “sunshine”, “moonshine”, “my heart”, “my soulmate”, “my home”, “my one and only” - the list is expanding as we speak.

in turn, you do the same to him, and he would be lying to say that he’s not looking forward to what you’re going to call him today. in fact, it might inspire him to write yet another haiku, which he will write and stash within his drawer, along with hundreds other papers of poems previously written from your influence.

albedo didn't exactly understand the appeal of sweet nicknames until you start calling him things like “my stardust”, “dear”, and “my prince”.

it’s like you opened a floodgate since then. you’re [name] but you're also “my starlight”, “my love”, and “dearest”. he doesn't have a lot of petnames for you but there's always a soft smile on his lips whenever he calls you one. however, this doesn’t seem to extend to when he’s talking with other people - for these occasions, he will still refer to you by your name properly. the only exception is when he’s talking with klee, he always refers to you as “big sis/bro/sibling [name]”, as if he’s prepping for the inevitable future where you three will become a family.

al haitham is another one who mainly calls you by your name. you might think that it hides your relationship from the public eye. but contrary to your thoughts, even blind people would know that you’re a couple, due to the soft undertone in his voice as his tongue rolls carefully to pronounce your name.

you can call him whatever you want and he wouldn’t mind. a few too many embarrassing nicknames in public might break his composure, though.

behind closed doors, he might slip out a “sweetheart” or even “love”. they might sound uncharacteristically gentle and soft compared to his usual selection of stoic words, but just remember to pay attention to his tone, because sometimes he will use them whenever you’ve pushed his buttons a little too far, and it might be a sign for you to back off…..

or don’t?

your choice, really.

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!

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jesterwriting · 7 months

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Yahallo~ I was wondering if you might write something for Crocodile x reader where reader is sweet and bubbly and affectionate. So, I've had a scenario in my head for awhile where reader is his wife and she goes to visit him at his casino one day just because he hasn't been home in a while and she misses him. Except she's never actually been to the casino before, much less introduced to most of his crew because she's Crocodile's happy little secret. So the bouncers don't let her in and reader decides to cause a commotion, which draws Crocodile out and I'm never actually sure what happens from there. Lol I'd like it to be mostly warm and fluffy, though. I love the idea of a big cold man being warm only for their lover.

I hope you have a lovely day. You're a beautiful honey bun. ♡〜٩(ㆁωㆁ)۶〜♡

pairing: crocodile x gn!reader

contents: established relationship, fluff, secret relationships, kind!reader, smitten!crocodile, crocodile calls you doll, kind of implied the reader tops him later which i personally think is very powerful of them

word count: 1.3k words

note: this is such a cute and funny idea <33 i took some liberties with this, there is no big scene at the door, just because the kind personality of the reader i was going for clashed with that a little bit. and i went a gender neutral route just because it's easier for me. i hope you still enjoy anyway! i absolutely love secret relationships and would love to do more with crocodile and this trope :3

playlist: diet mountain dew - lana del rey

Not once did you care that you were one of Crocodile’s best kept secrets. You understood why such precautions were necessary. Your husband was a powerful man with countless enemies, to have his one weakness known to all would be a terrible oversight on his part. Not only that, but it would also put you in a considerable amount of danger. You were soft, you weren’t ashamed of it. To remain kind in a cruel world took strength. In your opinion at least.

Sometimes, however, it took more strength than usual to remain understanding. This was one such occasion.

You had your own life outside of your husband, much to his dismay. It was half the reason he insisted on keeping your union under wraps. If Crocodile had it his way, you’d be by his side 24/7, or at the very least, surrounded by bodyguards everytime you left his line of sight. He was a cautious man by nature. One did not achieve the power he had by being reckless, especially not with those he loved.

That said, Crocodile hadn’t been home in days and you were starting to get worried. You knew his work was dangerous, keeping Alabasta safe from pirates was not what you’d call an ‘easy’ job. Instead of waiting around for him to return home on his own — inevitably to grump about the kisses you placed upon his facial scar, or the tender way you ran your fingers through his hair — you decided to seek him out. If there was one place where he would be, it would be at the casino.

Unfortunately for you, they wouldn’t let you in.

“Again, the casino is closed to all outside patrons for an event. I can’t let you in if your name isn’t on the list.” The doorman was starting to get frustrated with you stubbornness. You understood why, really you did. This was his job and you had been pestering him for the better part of thirty minutes. While you had patience, you were no saint. This whole situation was starting to get on your last nerve.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out a sigh. “And I get that, but I’m looking for my husband. I know he’s in there, can’t you go get him for me and we can talk outside the venue?”

The doorman hummed, considering the option. Finally, he gave you the smallest of smiles, the first you had gotten from him the whole night. “That’s doable. What’s his name so I can send someone to fetch him?”

You chewed on your bottom lip. This wasn’t going to go well. How many people tried to sneak their way into events using your husband’s name? For all this man knew, you were another lovesick fan, trying to get a whiff of the hero of Alabasta’s cologne before you were escorted out by security.

Whatever. It wouldn’t hurt to try, you thought.

“Um. Crocodile?”

The doorman burst out laughing, head thrown back and tears spilling down his cheeks. “Listen, you’re a looker, but you’re not that good looking. Now scram, I have a job to do.”

With a deep breath, you tried again. “I’m serious, he’s my husband. Please let me in.”

“Yeah, and I’m the king. Don’t make me call security on you.”

If Crocodile found out that the doorman called security on you, the man’s job would be down the drain before he could say ‘sorry.’ You didn’t want that, even if in your current irritation, you’d feel quite a bit vindicated. It was people like him that kept your husband safe, even if he did so in a rather frustrating manner.

You shuffled your feet, blinking a few times at the man who laughed in your face. Okay, maybe you did want him fired, but you were better than that. Kinder than that.

There was a commotion coming from the casino. You peered behind the doorman to see your husband surrounded by a hoard of Alabastan citizens, all clamoring for his attention. Your heart swelled at the sight of him, relieved to find him safe and sound. As much as you wanted to give him a piece of your mind for worrying you so much, the doorman’s glare was starting to get to you. Now that you knew he was alive, you could wait a little bit longer for Crocodile to return home.

“Well, thank you for your time,” You said as politely as you could. Even then, the words came out forced between clenched teeth.

The doorman merely rolled his eyes in response. Right before you turned your back, you caught your husband’s gaze. Crocodile’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of you, surprise replacing his previous annoyance. Flashing him a small smile and a wave, you turned to make your way home. You barely made it a few steps before Crocodile’s hand was on your shoulder, his grip firm enough to hold you in place. The crowd that surrounded him was gone, off to find someone else to celebrate with — or pester, as Crocodile was prone to say.

“What are you doing here, doll?”

Whipping around, you slotted your hands on your hips and hit your husband with the worst glare you could muster. You tried not to be disappointed when all you were met with was a glimmer of amusement. “Looking for you. It’s been days since you’ve been home, I was starting to get worried.”

Crocodile shrugged and took an inhale of his cigar. “There was no need for you to come here, I was coming home tonight.”

“And how am I supposed to know that if you don’t tell me. I’m not a mind reader,” You shot back.

Crocodile sighed, a cloud of smoke accompanied the action. You really wished he would quit, but you weren’t naive enough to believe you could convince him. The doorman coughed a few times, drawing both you and your husband’s attention. He looked absolutely dumbfounded at the scene playing out in front of him. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and you had hoped he had enough wherewithal to keep himself hidden so as not to earn your husband’s ire. Evidently not.

“I am so sorry,” The doorman started, hands numbly raised in surrender.

Wow. This man was the biggest idiot you had ever met. Crocodile slowly turned in his direction, a single eyebrow raised.

“You’re sorry?” Your husband's expression split into a furious glower, and for the first time that night, you felt truly sorry for the doorman. “And what are you apologizing for? I better like the answer.”

Before the man could speak, you placed yourself between them. “He was just doing his job, love. No need to get all fussy. Why don’t you walk me home and we can talk more? I’ve missed you.”

Crocodile’s expression softened when you grabbed his arm and leaned into his side. With his flesh hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him. Before you left, Crocodile reached around you and into his breast pocket. When he removed his hand, there was a wad of beri in it, a fatter stack than usual. He tossed it at the doorman’s feet.

“Forget what you saw here.” Crocodile narrowed his eyes, his hook glinting in the dull lamplight. “Or I’ll be seeing you again. Privately.”

“Don’t flirt with the poor man, he looks like he’s about to wet himself.”

Crocodile merely grumbled — affectionately, you knew that grumble anywhere — as he started in the direction of your shared home. “I don’t flirt and I don’t fuss, you know this, doll.”

“Bold of you to lie to my face when I’m still not sure if I’ve forgiven you yet.”

You had. It was hard to keep the grin off your face when Crocodile was warm against your side, the scent of him filling your nostrils until your head was fuzzy.

Oh, how you couldn’t wait to kiss him pliant in the comfort of your bed later tonight. For all of Crocodile’s power, you had him absolutely wrapped around your little finger.

#one piece x reader #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x yn #crocodile x yn #sir crocodile x you #crocodile x you #crocodile is so lana del rey coded everytime i write him i got her on full blast #.jesterwrites

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russosafehaven · 1 year

Text

Six Wives vs One Wife

Pairing: Benjamin Green x Reader

Content: Broken Marriage, History Nerd!Reader, Strangers to Lovers (Implied), Australian!Reader, Autistic!Reader, GN!Reader

Length: Short Fic?

POV: Third

He heard their rambling before catching sight of the source. Whoever they were must’ve been excited. Benjamin was on a date with Julia at the Tower of London, somewhere he’s wanted to visit but never had the time or money. His wife had disappeared off to another room while he stayed behind looking at the Anne Boleyn exhibit.

“No you don’t understand Mama, Anne Boleyn couldn’t cry because she knew what it meant. Plenty of sources cite so, that’s why she’s such an important figure and the best known Queen Consort of Henry VIII”

Benjamin smiled to himself at the thought of someone here with their family. Rambling on about such a niche topic with such passion. When he finally caught sight of the person talking he was stunned. They were a sight to behold, dressed in a comfortable sweater while they clutched tightly onto a leather notebook.

“I know darling, you tell me a lot”

The persons accent stuck out the most to Benjamin. He decided they must’ve been from the Oceanic region with the close reminiscence of the voices he was surrounded with daily. When he caught sight of the person he couldn’t take his eyes off of them, watching as they pointed to parts of the exhibit and explained to an older woman just what Anne Boleyn meant to England.

“You know before she was crowned Queen, Henry had actually slept with her sister. The union resulted in two alleged bastard children that Henry never acknowledged. A man’s reputation is far more important than the truth, even now. The world hasn’t changed for us at all. It’s why their stories are so important”

Benjamin watched as they were whacked by their mother as they cursed. He couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle. The two of them went on and he couldn’t help but follow. It wasn’t like Julia missed him, she would’ve messaged him or called.

Occasionally the younger of the two would chime in with an odd fact about the Tower of London. More often than not they were oddly morbid, Benjamin had come to the conclusion that they were a fan of the more unloved things in life. The next exhibit that was stopped at happened to be where Julia was. Benjamin returned to his wife, greeting her. Trying to avoid the question of why she left him alone. Unbeknownst to Benjamin, someone across the room was staring at him. His short hair and the jacket that hung a little loose around his frame, the dark rimmed glasses fixed upon his nose.

“Seems like someone’s caught your eye dear, why don’t you go talk to him?”

Benjamin heard this and turned around to lock eyes with the same person he was listening to earlier. His face reddened slightly as their mothers comment set in. Turning back to Julia he felt the glare his wife had.

“Will you stop looking at me like that Julia?”

A harsh slap came down on Benjamin’s arms, unlike the gentle affection their mother had shown them. He let out a hiss of pain but he knew he couldn’t retaliate. Not in public and not ever. Long before Julia Benjamin had made himself he’d never hurt anyone. Although that plan seemingly failed to those who knew him by his old name.

“I’m not looking like anything. You want something younger go get it. You’ve simply realised I’m too old haven’t you Benjamin?”

Before Benjamin could even open his mouth to respond Julia had walked off. Heavy feet meeting the floor with echoes. A heavy sigh exited his mouth as he occupied himself with reading the small frame about Katheryn Howard and her beheading.

“Did you know that Katheryn Howard was beheaded with an ax while Anne Boleyn was beheaded with a sword? Making Anne the only Tudor figure who was ever decapitated by sword”

The voice, the same Australian voice who he’d heard rambling moments earlier appeared by his side. Benjamin looked at them, staring into their eyes.

“Katheryns story is said to be one of the most tragic of Henry’s wives and while I agree, they’re all tragic in their own way. What makes her story such a tragedy is she went through so much pain and her story is barely ever told, times don’t change much. It’s what draws me to the six of them”

A smile creeped across the persons face as they spoke. The content was dark but their attitude shocked Benjamin. They spoke with such cadence on the subject it made Benjamin wonder if they were a history major.

“My names Y/N by the way. I’m sorry if I seem awkward, I’m not great at social cues. Autism makes me that way so most of my conversation is down through my talk of history”

A small creeped across Y/N’s face as they spoke. Benjamin returned the favour as a toothy grin crossed his face. It was a genuine smile, not the ones he’d been faking with Julia for the past few months.

“I’m Benjamin, nice to meet you. Take it you’re a bit of a history fan?”

A small chuckle escape Y/N’s lips and all the whole Benjamin couldn’t help but notice their mother smiling proudly at the two. As Benjamin returned his focus to them, he listened with intent as they explain the detailed history of what led up to the beheading of Katheryn Howard.

They struck Benjamin with comfort while they spoke and led him throughout the Tower of London. As if they’d been a million times although it was just their first. He had learned that they weren’t a history major but rather it was their special interest, that this had been a dream of theirs since childhood and they were here with their mother. The feeling Benjamin got with Y/N was familiar to what he felt when he first met Julia, except it was much more passionate and raw. It wasn’t that you were close in age, it’s that you were nice and genuine. He’d just have to get to know you this time before proposing marriage, as well as divorce Julia.

#ben barnes #benjamin greene #benjamin greene x reader #benji greene #benjamin greene fluff #ben barnes imagine #gold digger #gold digger imagine #ben barnes characters

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llewnanith · 2 years

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im so sorry this isnt a theory its barely even an au its just something i use to torture myself with izzy hands thoughts so take this evil little concept

Stede Bonnet, like most people, assumes the ring was from a lover. a lover lost, maybe, and that's why Izzy wore the ring on his cravat instead of on his hand. then, he wonders if the ring came from Ed. some sort of promise of serving his captain forever.

when he asks Ed, Ed is almost incredulous. assures Stede that no, it isn't Ed's ring. there isn't a matelotage, or any sort of union. he doesn't know where the fuck the ring comes from, only that the handful of times he's tried to needle and ask Izzy what the deal was, Izzy got even more snappy. then, Izzy would get withdrawn, quiet, cold. so Ed stopped asking after the years, prompts Stede not to, less he get run through again. Ed's only partially joking.

Stede, naturally, asks anyways. Izzy, naturally, bites his head off for it. then he becomes withdrawn, quiet, and cold. it's startling, the way he suddenly lets the crew get away with things he'd normally throw a fit over. it lasts for a few days, and then things slowly repair themselves. Izzy won't look at Stede for a month, but more or less that's that.

then, the weather gets shifts. the seasons change. the year goes on. and Izzy gets all withdrawn again, with no prompting. Stede asks Ed about it. Ed says that he always does this around this time of year. it's fine, he works himself out of it. if you ask about it, it will only make it worse.

Stede, naturally, asks about it. in his defense, he's still not entirely sure how it happened. all he knows is that Izzy hadn't been seen all day, which was concerning Ed, and so of course Stede had to fix it. he doesn't like Izzy, far from it, but if he was scheming with the british again, Stede was going to catch him and deal with him. hopefully. but when he goes to Izzy's room, he isn't there. he isn't in the rec room, or the crow's nest, or any of his other favorite places to be (don't ask him why he knows all of Izzy's favorite places, the man cycles the same 5 spots on the ship to sulk, alright? that's all)

it's only out of sheer desperation does he start checking the secret passages, and it's only out of sheer luck he finds the man. he's almost drunk himself to death, the bastard. the ring sits in Izzy's palm like he doesn't know what to do with it. Stede isn't the most experienced man on the seas, but he knows grief when he sees it, and he's seeing it.

so, gently, he compliments the ring. and Izzy, not so gently, tells him to fuck off. but he doesn't run him through when Stede sits by him, yet. and Stede doesn't rush it, he lets the silence settle over them, lets the two of them snipe and crack and melt down in this quiet moment. eventually, he asks if the ring is from Izzy's lover. and he says yes, but it isn't for him. he describes a woman, but there's something missing from his words. it's the same way Stede would talk about Mary. strikingly platonic, and Izzy dances around the word wife, eventually settling on 'friend', which even still is a shock.

Stede tells Izzy that he is sorry for his loss, and Izzy does the most wondrous thing: he fuckin laughs. and he calls Stede an idiot, and tells Stede that her death anniversary was months ago. and so, naturally, Stede is confused out of his mind.

and Izzy tells him a story of a damp, small town in England. a town where work was hard, and you died before you lived. and Izzy tells a story of knowing he didn't look at the girls the same ways the boys in the workplace did, and yet the prettiest girl still sought him out because he was short and pretty, and she knew he didn't look at her. and then, Izzy tells a story about a death in birth, and a daughter, and a ring meant for her when she's older. Stede, fleetingly, wants to run away from Izzy. out of this secret passage and away from this truth that he of all people should not be hearing. but Izzy tells him the story of his daughter. it almost sounds like a fairytale, the way Izzy frames it. a story about a man and his daughter making it out of a terrible town, sailing the sea together, being a family of pirates. it is exactly what Stede had dreamed of, exactly what he wanted, and exactly what Izzy had wanted.

it doesn't have a happy ending. it twists when Izzy, bartering for a boat with a merchant to get them out of there, takes his eyes off of his daughter for too long at the docks. and she didn't know any better. and Izzy should have been watching her, he told her not to wander too far, but he should have been watching her. and he just turned his back for a minute, two, ten, more until he turned around and couldn't see her anymore. he tried to go after her, but the people at the docks were too kind to let him dive into the water again after they fished him out the first two times. Izzy hates them, still. that's why he stole a small boat, only big enough for one person (because that's all it needed to be), in the middle of the night and set out. he didn't have any food, or any water, and he didn't care. hornigold found him, then, half-dead and alone. and at age 18 Izzy became a pirate. for a while, people assumed he was mute, because when he makes it out of the infirmary he doesn't say a word. the man that approaches him and introduces himself as Edward Teach (born on a beach), it's the first name Izzy says other than the one that still rings in his head, throat still aching from where he screamed as he dove into that water as if the tide would take him too.

Stede doesn't know what happens at the end of Izzy's story. he just doesn't let anyone ask Izzy about the ring, and he scolds Lucius for pushing about it, and he tries not to think about his own children. he thinks about Blackbeard, and he thinks about ghosts, and he thinks about how if you look out at the water for too long and too closely you might see a reflection, distorted enough to look like two.

#izzy hands #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd izzy #stede bonnet #ask to tag #sorry this was so long i didnt mean for it to be #im just. well i have the izzy plague #something something stede willing giving up his family and children and izzy not having a choice in losing them #also izzy 100% thinks of himself as the killer of his daughter like straight up. 'i killed her it was me'

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arabian-bloodstream · 2 years

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Ok I haven’t watched the episode yet but why are people saying it lacked passion and chemistry? I’ve heard it’s because they weren’t looking at each other or rhae’s eyes looked vacant so idk. Maybe their expectations were way too high….

I don't know. I honestly, truly don't know how anyone could watch that love scene and say it lacked passion. *sigh*

I don't think it was that expectations were too high; I think it was that expectations were different. Some people expected Daemon and Rhaenyra to see each other and basically glom on to each other, passionately kissing, ripping clothes off, a mad ecstatic frenzy of wild abandon.

And that just WOULD NOT make sense. It simply wouldn't. Sorry, peeps, but no.

Rhaenrya had given birth in the last month or so. Wild, crazy sexytiems was NOT on her agenda. With anyone. Period.

Daemon had lost his wife -- a woman he *did* care about -- in the last week or so.

Rhaenyra had lost her lover -- a man she *did* care about -- in the last week or so.

The last time Rhaenyra saw Daemon had been in a crowd full of people where she had essentially challenged him to take her, to make her his. And he had left her, or in her words, he had abandoned her.

The last time Daemon had seen Rhaenyra he had been offered what he wanted most of all, Rhaenyra to take to wife by Rhaenyra herself, but to do so would ruin her life he believed so he left, or in his words, he spared her that fate.

The both of them felt that they had lost something of great value ten years before. Daemon had given something up. Rhaenyra had been given up. And because of that they were lost for ten years. They both tried to make the best of it, but they were lost, they were lonely, they were missing their other half essentially, the other that made them truly burn. And without that other half, the spark was dying.

Finally, Daemon and Rhaenyra had never lie with one another before. They didn't know each other's bodies. It wasn't a sexual reunion at all. This joining of their bodies was a new union, a new start for them, a new chapter.

Because of all of the above when at last they came together, it was tentative. There was a fragility to how they approached their passion towards one another. It was banked, held back because remember when Rhaenyra had given her all so voraciously to Daemon before he had left her. And when Daemon had moved so quickly before it had thrown him for such a loop that he had lost himself so quickly that he had run away.

So they took their time, they kept their eyes on one another; they kept their hands on one another. They revealed themselves, enough of themselves to the other for comfort, for ease, for trust. This wasn't just about sex. This was about trust and connection, and finding their way back to each other, and finding themselves again. And they did.

Anyone who saw vacancy in Rhaenyra's eyes wasn't looking closely enough. She was looking up at the gods, fierce determination in her gaze. There was a hard glint there, yes, and it was directed at them, a challenge that no one would take this man from her again. She was claiming ownership. He was hers now.

Daemon had given himself to her, revealing himself, looking at her -- because, yes, they were looking at each other like lots and lots of looking at each other, face to face, the soft touches, the gentle kisses. To say that their love scene was without passion is so far from the truth, that love scene was one of the mostly hauntingly passionate and beautiful love scenes I have ever seen. It was glorious. Just absolutely glorious.

#daemyra #daemyra positivity #daemon x rhaenyra #hotd 1x07 #the love scene to end all love scenes #beachsex supremecy

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viatagrinner · 2 years

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Silvio Ricci. Romantic Route. Chapter 25. Part 1.

After MC called herself Silvio's fiancèe and Rio persuaded the king to return to Benitoite, several days passed. The four-country union project was still under consideration.

The girl moved into one of Silvio's villas.

In the normal story, whose translation I have deleted - 🤡👍: Silvio at first nervously accepted the girl as his fiancèe. After all, she would have to move, change her life, etc. Then they talked and spent the night together.

Silvio was working with documents, and MC was reading a book about her fiancé's adventures at a young age.

The prince works too hard, the girl decides to massage his shoulders.

Silvio: Wait, don't touch me!

MC: Can't I be your fiancèe?

The prince says that whatever relationship they have doesn't mean he can be touched.

The heroine is not confused, she approaches him and tries to kiss him on the forehead.

Silvio blushes and gets angry, and the girl pretends to be sad.

MC: ...I'm your lover, but I shouldn't touch you, it's sad.

Silvio: ......You've got to be kidding!

MC: No, that's not true.

She was punished for it. He ruffled her hair again.

But it doesn't annoy her anymore.

(...After all, Silvio is cozy around me.)

Soon they are leaving for Benitoite.

She has already said goodbye to everyone and quit her job. Silvio is pleased and promises to give her an "interesting show" when she arrives at his house".

Silvio: Ah. The greatest show of the century. I'll give you a special place.

As he continues to stroke her head, he admits that he "doesn't care if she's sassy or honest," as long as she's herself.

_________________________________________

After a while. Benitoite.

Silvio: ....So, give me that chair, you old asshole.

_________________________________________

A white castle surrounded by the vast sea... There begins the heroine's new life. A life so unlike her old one.

Silvio stands in the throne room, with the king and queen in front of him and Rio next to him.

Rio is dressed as a prince. The girl thought it was the first time she had seen him like this, but it doesn't change the essence of Rio.

Silvio decided to go straight ahead rather than look for workarounds.

The King, of course, is not pleased.

Silvio: I'm serious. If the old bastard doesn't get out of his chair...Carlo!

Carlo: Y-yes!

A shy man, apparently Silvio's squire, hands a letter to His Majesty the King.

After looking at the letters loosely written there for a while, the king crushed the paper.

The King of Benitoite: .... I told you to stay out of it.

This paper is from an illegal auction. If it becomes known in this country and in Rhodolite, there will be trouble. The king himself was in favor of an alliance with an enemy country. This is a scandal.

The prince has finally gathered all the evidence of his father's treachery.

The king scolds his eldest son. Why does he make enemies?

Silvio: No problem, why do we owe the aggressor state?

Silvio: If they try to retaliate, we will respond with harsher economic sanctions.

Silvio: But Gilbert is no fool. If he knows our interests, he won't spit on us.

The King of Benitoite: ....You and I have always disagreed with each other.

A four-country alliance is still in the works, but that's the way Silvio wants to go.

Silvio: Now that it has happened, I am in charge of everything that happens in this country from now on!

Silvio: Give me the throne.

Silvio turns to the queen, Rio's mother. After the death of his first wife, the king married a second time.

Rio looks very much like his mother.

The queen is silent, but Rio decides to take the floor.

He tells his mother not to worry. She will have more time with the king, Silvio, conclusively, may cause anxiety, but he is the next king. Rio will no longer be in the background. Rhodolite "taught him courage and not to miss something important."

Rio and Silvio quarrel again. Silvio doesn't want Rio on his side. And he can handle himself, to which Rio replies something like, "You fool, I'm actually for you."

Queen laughed.

Queen: I think we should leave it at that, Alfio.

Anyway, the queen says to the king, he's been in power too long, it's time to rest, we need to make room for the young.

Queen: You became king at their age.

The king is silent, he wants to rule.

Queen: Besides, I have heard many good things about MC from Valerio.

We also learn that originally Silvio's father was not supposed to be king.

The King is silent. He takes a long time.

King: ...Silvio.

The king took off the ring and threw it right into his son's hands.

Silvio: Don't throw me a national treasure, you old bastard!

The King of Benitoite: Shut up. I'll give it to you, but do it well. Don't be selfish like that woman.

Silvio's Masterlist

#ikemen prince #ikemen ouji #ikepri #ikepri translation #ikemen prince silvio #ikemen silvio's route #ikepri silvio #ikemen silvio #silvio ricci #ikepri silvio's route

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tilbageidanmark · 11 months

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Movies I watched this Week #129 (Year 3/Week 25):

A few months ago I discovered the early films of Alice Guy-Blaché, the first ever female filmmaker, and history's first director of narrative cinema. An enormously important figure, who was erased and forgotten until her recent resurgence.

The documentary Be Natural: The Untold Story of Alice Guy-Blaché shows how central she was to the development of all of cinema. A most fascinating and moving detective story laying open the amazing life of this pioneering heroine, who helped define its crafts and systems.

Narrated by (another prodigy) Jodie Foster. Like 'The Méliès Mystery' biography, these two are a must-see for any film lover.

Best film of the week! 10/10.

🍿

The short film essay Celebration Sequences gives some excellent examples of “Storytelling's Most Useful Type of Scene”: Weddings, funerals, birthdays, parties, balls (and orgies). Celebrations give a story the chance to gather every important character and let them interact for a while under the auspice of important themes such as love and death.

Because of it, I watched Kurosawa's Hamlet-inspired The bad sleep well. Coppola listed The bad sleep well as one of his favorite films, citing the wedding ceremony of the first thirty minutes "as perfect as any film I've ever seen". He then used it as inspiration for the wedding sequence in The Godfather.

🍿

The devil and Miss Jones [Not to be confused with the 1973 'The Devil IN Miss Jones...] was an unusual 1941 Capra'esque comedy, with a pro-labor bent. It dealt with some real labor, wealth inequality and capitalism issues. And, it did not paint them outright as 'communist' agenda!

The 'richest man in the world' goes underground in order to root out 'agitators' and union leaders, who cause trouble at one of his department stores. However, after working as a regular shoe salesman down in the weeds, he learns to sympathize with the cause of his new working class comrades (after falling in love with one of them, of course).

🍿

3 by French director Nicolas Bedos:

🍿 Masquerade is a sleek caper, like Jim Thompson's 'The Grifters' but on the glitzy part of the French riviera. A young gigolo specializing in seducing rich, older woman falls for a beautiful young con-artist and together they devise a long-con to bilk high-maintenance diva Isabelle Adjani and wealthy real estate broker François Cluzet. Lots of erotic twists and thrilling turns. 6/10.

🍿 In his previous, genial comedy La Belle Époque, Daniel Auteuil is allowed to participate in an immersive reenactment of any historical period of his choice. After being kicked out by his wife, he decides to re-live a week in 1974 when he met her, the love of his life, at the La Belle Époque café in Lyon. A mix of Fincher's "The Game', with 'The Truman show' but with an imaginative heart. Better than Charlie Kaufman. 9/10.

🍿 OSS 117 was a French series about a fictional secret agent, a-la-James Bond, featured in 11 films and parodies. OSS 117: From Africa with Love is a stupid spoof of the EuroSpy genre of the 60's and 70's. and the third starring comedian Jean Dujardin (from ”The artist”). He plays a self-important idiot, politically-incorrect who can't get it up, more Peter Sellers than Sean Connery. Tintin was much deeper. 2/10.

🍿

Because I don’t usually watch such low-brow low-budget trashy sub-genres, I enjoyed the crowd-funded Swiss exploitation Mad Heidi much more that I would under normal circumstances. The absurd story deals with a fascist cheese-based dictator, and a zaftig mountain girl who must escape Stalag-type prison in order to save the motherland and prevent a tainted cheese apocalypse.

As Joe Bob Briggs used to write in his early reviews "Cheese Nazis, cheese zombies, edelweiss throwing stars, and goat cheese hustlers. Mustard covered sausages inserted up the ass. About 10 exploding heads and torsos. Every Swiss cliché in the book, from 'Sounds of Music' and Toblerone to Alp horns, cuckoo clocks, cheese fondue, watches, and pocket knives - dialed up to 11. Women's prison-fu. Gladiator-Fu. Lesbo Fu. One Black Goat Peter. Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Casper Van Dien as the megalomaniacal president of Switzerland. Check it out.” 4/10.

🍿

Pierrot le Fou, my 8th New Wave stream of consciousness improvised exploration by JL Godard. Without a screenplay, and Everything Goes attitude, it's one long Pop Art of random allusions, aphorism, literary riddles and intellectual bon mots. Actually, apart from his brilliant debut 'À bout de souffle' (Breathless), I was bored by most of his films.

🍿

The Novice, another remarkable first feature by a young female director (Lauren Hadaway, who doesn't even have a Wikipedia page yet). An obsessive freshman joins her university's rowing team and is so driven to compete that she destroys everything in her path, especially herself.

Hadaway's frantic use of film language is thrilling. Also her blending of music by Brenda Lee and Patsy Klein.

🍿

As a teenager I admired Knut Hamsun, read and collected all his books. My pride and joy, and the oldest book I owned was the rare Hebrew translation of 'Hunger', published in Poland in 1889. So I stopped everything to watch Jan Troell's lionizing drama Hamsun about his final and dying years.

Hamsun was a towering Norwegian hero who later turned Nazi-sympathizer traitor and supported Hitler & Germany even as it occupied Norway. Max von Sydow plays him as a venerable 'Great Man', complex, selfish, stubborn and conflicted, and Danish diva Ghita Nørby plays his wife, who was even more pro-German than him. 3/10

🍿

Another re-watch, Edgar Wright final installment of his Cornetto trilogy, The World’s End. Immature alcoholic Simon Pegg brings his 4 childhood friends back together to recreate the greatest achievement of their youth, a legendary 12-station pub crawl. Massive drinking & mayhem mixed with an alien invasion by blue-blooded androids.

Like the new 'Demon 79' it culminates with an unexpected apocalyptic Götterdämmerung. Yeah, 'The world's end' is not only the name of the last drinking hole. Plus points for the beautiful Rosamund Pike.

With every re-watch of any Edgar Wright movie, I go back to 'Every frame a picture' showing his visual comedy style, or other essays explaining his unique editing techniques.

🍿

Instead of watching Jason Reitman's 'Up in the air' for the 5th time, I picked up his Front Runner. A bland 2018 Political drama about the fall from grace of Senator Gary Hart, caught with his fly open aboard a yacht called 'Monkey Business' while running for president.

I saw Gary Hart at a political rah-rah at UCLA the first week I came to the US in 1984. But the film itself added no new wrinkle to the usual cliches of election campaigns, newspaper editorial rooms, media ethics or the hypocrisies of public figures. 3/10.

🍿

(My complete movie list is here).

#movies

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femdomliterature · 6 months

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Femlit 0342 - More Cuckolding Facts - Part 2

In the cuckold relationship you openly become involved with another man, and he knows it! His primal sperm competition reaction will kick-in, resulting in a sex drive in overdrive, and increased sperm and testosterone production as soon as he is back in your presence. That’s why husbands in the cuckold lifestyle are more attentive to their wives than men in traditional marriages.

If he is physically present during your encounters with another man, his sperm competition reaction can drive him crazy! Even though there may be feelings of jealousy, the physical reactions overcome his emotions and result in his most intense orgasms! This is the component that causes him to enjoy it when you “cheat on him”, especially in front of him! Even though you have a mate and you surely love him very much, you are always vulnerable to the attraction of that occasional stud. If a good looking man comes along who gives off pheromones telling you he is a superior match for you, you will find yourself attracted to him and your desire to have sex with him will build. If you continue to make social contact with one another, eventually you will be receptive to a sexual union, and it will happen. It's instinctive.

Threesomes - Your Boyfriend and Husband

Cuckolding is most effective and enjoyable when practiced as a threesome and with all being present sometimes. Wives who primarily meet their boyfriend away from home are missing out on some of the best experiences and benefits in cuckolding. The reality is that a steady guy or a few reliable companions for the wife is not only less risky in terms of physical and health safety, but is much more rewarding in terms of an overall, fulfilling experience. What if the boyfriend isn’t experienced with cuckold couples? Most guys get skittish about this because they’re worried the husband wants inclusion sexually i.e. a threesome or they are nervous about being watched by the husband. It’s often up to the wife to initiate this three-way bonding. To do this she needs to create situations for both men to meet and interact. Perhaps instead of meeting her lover out, she should propose having him pick her up at home, so he can be introduced to the husband.

Invite your lover in for a few minutes before you leave on your date. Let him know beforehand this is what you want. Kiss him openly in front of your husband. This may all seem puzzling at first, but both men will certainly identify with something that turns you on. This way the boyfriend can also see for himself that your husband has accepted a secondary role and is a willing participant in the relationship. While out on dates and when talking with your lovers, discuss your husband and his reactions to your dating; detail how excited your husband gets watching you prepare for your date. It’s important that you be openly flirtatious, possibly even intimate, with your lover while your husband is present. Use these times to establish which man is your priority. Perhaps give your husband small tasks to perform while you entertain your lover, such as getting drinks or tell him to hang up your boyfriend’s jacket . This demonstrates that you are the one in control when your boyfriend is present. When he returns, he should find you on your boyfriend’s lap or snuggled up to him on the couch, your hands playfully stroking the bulge of your boyfriend’s cock.

You may even need to be a bit aggressive with an inexperienced guy, even an otherwise dominant one, until he becomes comfortable with the situation and gets his head around the idea of you spurning your husband for him. Once your boyfriend warms up to it all you will no longer be playing that role! When you’re on dates, think about calling your husband. Encourage your boyfriend to listen as you tease your husband with a description of what’s going on. Perhaps you’re in a restaurant and you tease your husband with the knowledge that your boyfriend’s hand is on your bare thigh, under your skirt. Or call your husband from your boyfriend’s place - just imagine what you could tell him. This all lets your boyfriend come to better understand the dynamics of cuckolding, and also lets him directly see and feel how it turns you on to do it. As you move further into the relationship, encourage contact between both of your men. Before a date, have your husband call your boyfriend and ask him what outfit he’d like you to wear. Eventually, picking you up at home and having dinner with you at home will then lead to making out at home and going to bed without ever leaving the house. Having sex in front of your husband can be one of the biggest turning points in your relationship with your lover, and in your life if you’ve never done it before. Some couples approach this gradually. At first the husband may just observe the foreplay and fondling, before the wife and lover dismiss the husband, or adjourn to the privacy of a bedroom. Graduating to full on sex in front of the husband can be exciting for you the wife, but it can also be intimidating for your boyfriend. One way to overcome this intimidation is to make it clear to your boyfriend that he is your primary focus and your husband is only an observer.

You will have already told your boyfriend that your husband isn’t allowed in the bedroom when he’s there except for those times when you call for him. Eventually, your boyfriend should begin to feel much less anxious taking you in your bed with your husband watching. At this point, you begin to include your husband more by extending the foreplay outside the bedroom; getting naked for your boyfriend sooner, taking foreplay well beyond petting, even engaging in sex in the den, living room, etc., all while your cuckold husband is present. Once this threshold is passed, your boyfriend will become comfortable in his position and should begin to enjoy asserting himself with you and your husband, and will be the one to call your husband into the bedroom to witness him entering you. This is particularly true if your boyfriend knows that your husband’s access to you sexually has been limited in preference to him, which some couples enjoy.

#female led relationship #femlit

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celticbarb · 1 year

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Book: Laird of Steel

Author: Glynnis Campbell

Series: The Warrior Lairds of Rivenloch, Book

Release Date: May 2, 2023

Book Length: 371

Publisher: Glynnis Campbell

Overall Rating: 5 Stars

Blog Rating: 5 Saltire Flags

Scotland, 1160

In this book it centers on Sir Gellir Cameliard of Rivenloch, and maid servant Merraid of Darragh. Merraid had been in love since she was 15 years old. Then he had been her champion and done anything to please him but it wasn’t for his expert fighting skills, or his swoon worthy good looks but it was for his honor and caring for others no matter if they were a high ranking nobleman or low level servant. She was heartbroken when he left but as soon as he left his cousin Lady Feiyan was who had married Laird Dougal mac Dougal started training her as warrior.

So four years later Gellir returns only to meet bridal candidates or else his King might force him to marry an English wife. At first he didn’t care as it was like a business arrangement. Then he sees Merraid and his mouth drops, not recognizing the most gorgeous creature he ever set his eyes on. He is surprised it is Merraid the maidservant and is instantly attracted to her. Merraid tried to feign that she no longer cared but that didn’t last long. She also decided to be a good friend and help him pick a wife that would be worthy of him.

Of course Gellir found something wrong with every candidate and knew his feeling for Merraid were growing. The feeling was very mutual but they both knew due to their class difference they could never be more than friends. Yet every time a man was near Merraid he wanted to lop their head off with his sword!

Then a woman named Lady Carenza was perfect for him and everyone loved her even Merraid liked her. As much as she did not want too! Except this woman was miserable always weeping and obviously didn’t want this union any more than Gellir did. Soon she disappears but Gellir takes the blame which will make his an outcast and ruin his reputation. Yet Merraid is determined to save the man she loves but can never have.

Will Gellir and Merraid ever admit their true feelings for each other? Do the nobleman and the maidservant have a chance at love and happiness? Shall Gellir have a loveless arranged marriage never having true love like his Rivenloch clansmen? Read and find out in this phenomenal read that this reader absolutely loved!

Bestselling author Glynnis Campbell pens another breathtaking tale that I absolutely loved. It’s a friends to lovers romance which was beautifully written. Plus if you are like me and have read her other Rivenloch books it is also like a beloved family reunion too. As readers will recognize some familiar characters from previous books. I absolutely loved that too, as always I also find myself giggling, laughing and crying whenever I read a Glynnis Campbell novel! It’s a bit like heaven that sweeps me away!

A book readers definitely do not want to miss. As I have been reading this author since her debut book and her books are so unique and special. I can’t wait to read the next book in this captivating series! I absolutely and unequivocally highly recommend this book!

Buy Links:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C1813QLV?_bbid=134963408&tag=individualbookpagesite-20

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/laird-of-steel-glynnis-campbell/1143297129?ean=2940185843093&st=AFF&SID=Barne

https://books.apple.com/us/book/laird-of-steel/id6447112164

https://play.google.com/store/books/details?PAffiliateID=1l3vnbh&PCamRefID=bookbubblogd&_bbid=134963436&_bbreg=us&_bbtype=blog&id=CRm3EAAAQBAJ

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/laird-of-steel?utm_source=linkshare_us&utm_medium=Affiliate&utm_campaign=BookBub&ut

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introvert--weeb · 3 years

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CAN'T FORGET YOU

Bonten!Ran Haitani x f!reader (angst)

TW: mentions of violence, delusions

Ran knew there was a risk with you being with him. After all, he was a Bonten executive and wanted for all sorts of crimes. He had warned you about all of this but you remained with him, having already fallen too deep to turn back.

You both had a secret ceremony when Ran had decided to marry you. No dress; no guests except Bonten executives; hell, the person performing the wedding looked as if he had been brought here forcefully for this event. You were positive Sanzu would deal with him later so the news of the union between you and your lover wouldn't get out. Every precaution was taken. If you weren't already used to how Ran could be, you would have never gone through with this and left him. However, you wanted to be with the elder Haitani and so everything was perfect once you could call him your husband. That's all that mattered.

Although it wasn't common knowledge that you were married to Ran, he would make sure you were kept safe. Having one of the lower members of Bonten act as your bodyguard was a regular occurrence as you left the apartment. Even if it was to go to the convenience store at the end of your street, someone would be following close behind.

Life couldn't be much better for Ran. He was working with his little brother still, he was making good money doing what he loved, and he could go home to his beautiful wife every night. There wasn't much that the Haitani wanted for anymore. His life was almost as perfect as it could get.

News of a drive by shooting was quick to reach Bonten. After all, they ruled over Tokyo so they had to keep well informed over what was going on. Mikey had explained how the event had resulted in two casualties: one in critical condition and one dead. The executives didn't seem too bothered by the information. After all, entering Bonten was like a death sentence in itself. It just depended on when you would finally fall.

Ran tuned out the rest of what Mikey said about the topic. They faced losses of lower members all the time. Hell, Sanzu had taken a few out himself simply because his hair wasn't cooperating and the drugs had taken over all rationality. He wasn't sure why Mikey was making such a fuss over this.

The day had passed by quickly and while the rest of Bonten remained at their club, Ran wanted to get back home to his wife. With a quick farewell to the other members, the older Haitani was swift in his exit and had missed the look of sympathy Rindo and Kakucho had shot his way.

Unlocking the door to the shared apartment, Ran entered and expected to see you running over to him as you usually did whenever he got back. It was strange but he put it down to you already being in bed. However that did not do anything to lessen his disappointment. After all, he had come home to spend time with you.

But when he had entered the bedroom, there was no sight of you there either. Before he could allow himself to succumb to the panic that had starting rising, Ran checked his personal phone for the first time that day. Relief had filled him when he saw your message about going to the supermarket and being back to the apartment soon.

Ran gave out a sigh but a soft smile had taken hold on his face. He loved how you would keep him updated on where you were if you left the apartment. He loved you and wanted to make sure you were safe so those texts were one of his favourites. Deciding he might as well head to bed now he knew you were safe, the Haitani had stripped his suit and crawled into the empty bed.

A week had passed and you were acting distant with Ran. He would see you everywhere but you wouldn't take notice of him. You wouldn't come over to give him affection anymore and it frustrated him to no end. You were his wife, you should want to be around him and all he had gotten over the last few days were sad smiles from you.

"I don't even know what's wrong with her, Rin. She doesn't even talk to me anymore," the elder brother ranted while he was pacing back and forth, a hand running through his short dual coloured locks. Rindo simply looked at his brother confused. Who was he even talking about? The rest of the executives were all doing their own things so they didn't pay attention to the rant.

"Who are you even talking about Ran?" That was probably the wrong way to ask the taller man, Rindo realised. Confusion was etched onto the elder brother's face. What was Rindo even talking about?

"Y/N. Who the fuck else would I be talking about?"

Rindo felt his heart breaking for his brother. Ran noticed the sympathetic look that his brother gave him. Why would he look at him like that? What was going on? Why had Y/N stopped being the person he married? Why was his chest constricting? What the hell was going on?!

"Ran. Y/N died during that drive by shooting."

Everything was starting to make sense but also had the man confused. He had seen you. You couldn't be dead. In fact, he had seen you reading in your chair as he left for the warehouse that day. But in his heart he knew that Rindo was right. You had died during that shooting.

Tears clouded his vision as the puzzle pieces clicked together. It was his own grieving mind that conjured you up. It was his heart that couldn't forget you.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani #angst #anime drabble

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lastxviolet · 3 years

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Madripoor is for Lovers (Zemo x F!Reader) - Ch. 3

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / smut / oral sex / f receiving

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

The hypnotic bass and Zemo's enthusiastic dance moves almost got you carried away. But over the bouncing crowd, you saw Sharon, Bucky, and Sam on the stairs, looking for you.

“Shit,” you mumbled, breaking the trance. “We gotta go.”

Zemo followed your line of sight and turned to lead you back to the group in silence. You try to hide the disappointment on your face.

“We found him,” Sharon yelled over the music upon your approach.

The five of you went over the plan for tomorrow back in Sharon’s suite. You doubted that even with your experience, you could’ve found Dr. Nagel without Sharon's help. In the states, it was easy to pick a needle out of a haystack, because you always knew what you were looking for. But here, everyone was a criminal. Uncharted territory where you had to find the sharpest needle amongst thousands.

“You good?”

Sam’s voice cut through your thoughts. You looked up and noticed the dissipating group. Sharon showed Bucky to his room, and Zemo sat with his eyes glued to a book on the couch. Only Sam remained standing in front of you, looking like he was about to pass out.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Go get some sleep. You look terrible.”

He chuckled and nodded in agreement. “We gotta get the hell out of here. Madripoor has aged me at least ten years.”

“Me too. I miss places where being a criminal makes you the odd one out, not the other way around.”

“Goody two-shoes,” he teased before turning to find his room.

Sharon waved him on from down the hall and they got back into it about her pardon and what she’d missed in the states.

Your attention shifted to the only other person in the room. Zemo’s eyes wasted no time abandoning his book and landing on you as soon as you were alone.

“The Odyssey,” you asked, pointing to his book. “I didn’t take you for someone who enjoys fiction.”

He smiled at the attention and made room for you on the couch.

“I often find that there are elements of truth in every fantasy. The human spirit is sometimes better examined by poets than by professors. This, for instance, is a brilliant study on heroes.”

“Hmm, studying heroes? An attempt to know thy enemy?”

He laughed and turned to you with his elbow up on the back of the couch, bringing him less than a foot away from your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the lights down the hall go out. There were no interruptions, or easy outs, now. All that was left was you, and the only man who’d ever made you truly nervous.

“Y/N, if you were in Odysseus’s place, content and immortal, would you give it up to go back home?”

“You’re asking me if I’d abandon my legacy and family to shack up on an island with some mistress?”

He chuckled and nodded in approval. “Very wise. But what does he gain by leaving? Struggle? Hardship? Mortality?”

You tilted your head to match his. “Are you telling me that you’d stay on the island?”

His expression shifted for the first time since you’d stepped foot in Madripoor. The overconfident, smirking Baron dissolved into a man.

A man who hid the sense of riotousness that he carried with dramatic flair. A man whose charm and wit seemed fabricated.

This man now, fighting off sleepy eyes and grappling with the moral quandary posed, seemed burdened. You wondered if his quest for justice would ever get to be too much. After all the destruction he’d caused, could he still see himself as the exactor of fairness? Were the Avengers still his enemy? Were you?

“No,” he confessed looking down at the copy in his hands.

Your lips twitched but you didn’t smile. “You’d make the hard choice — the hero’s choice if it came down to it.”

He looked almost somber at your words and nodded.

“In another life…perhaps.”

His voice wavered, almost as if he regretted saying it out loud. The briefing that Sam and Bucky had given you about him flashed in your mind.

A hero's choice was the right thing to do; the hard thing to do. You knew that he was a soldier before everything happened. Just like you.

Was that not a hero’s choice?

He tore the Avengers apart in an attempt to stitch up his own heart. An eye for an eye. Avenging his country because its destruction had been glossed over by the world. His loss fueled his anger but he was more capable than most. A man without armor, or mystical abilities was able to wreak havoc on those who had wronged him.

Was that heroism?

If losing those you love didn’t permit revenge, you weren't sure what did.

He broke the silence by tapping his knuckle on the book.

“It is the perfect testament to the valiance of heroes,” he continued. "But, I must say that the wisest thing Odysseus did was marry his wife.”

You laughed and nodded, remembering how she saved the day. Without her, Odysseus’s homecoming would’ve been much more perilous for him.

“I often find that behind every great man is an even better woman.”

He smirked and didn’t miss a beat. “Like you with…your Avengers.”

“I stand beside them,” you corrected.

He raised an eyebrow and waved a hand. “Semantics."

You gave him an eye roll in return.

He smiled then, wider than you had ever seen. It almost made him seem shy. Perhaps it was because he was making a genuine point, masked in humor.

You were well aware of your importance to this mission and yet burdened by the fact that it didn’t make you a member of their special club. When this was all over, you wouldn’t be an Avenger, or anywhere close. You’d go back to S.W.O.R.D to wait until called upon again. It hadn’t occurred to you before, but there was a pang of sadness there where the thought rested. It’d be a mistake to let Zemo know but it seemed to be too late.

“You’re making fun of me.”

His hand brushed yours. “No. I am merely expressing my concerns about your allegiances.”

Still aware of the small amount of alcohol left in your system, you looked away from his quirked moving lips.

“Enlighten me, Baron. What wrong decisions do you think I’m making?”

Frozen in place, you let him brush his fingers along your wrist to your arm. He took his time, tracing patterns on your skin and inspecting his work with an unwavering gaze. Only when his thumb caressed your cheek, and his hand landed on your neck did he look you in the eyes again. The air in your lungs was gone and your body betrayed you with a furious eruption of butterflies.

“Living a hero’s life,” he said somber-eyed and serious.

Your heart rate quickened. As if you’d learned nothing in S.W.O.R.D about manipulation, you were back to watching his lips. They parted slightly, as if he had something else to say but thought better of it.

A hero.

You didn't feel like one.

A sidekick, maybe. But even then, no one knew your name. No one sang your praises at home or breathed a sigh of relief knowing you were out there in the world fighting evil. It seemed that the only one who thought of you as more than an assistant was Zemo.

Your heart felt heavy then. The two of you were impossible. An inconceivable pair brought together by chance.

But that didn’t make his dark eyes any less enticing or his words any less intoxicating.

That didn’t make you any further from his lips.

He was a breath away, but so was your own destruction.

In another life, the island might tempt you.

“Look,” you said glancing past him to find something to change the subject. “It’s a full moon.”

Without sparing him another glance, you crossed the floor in four quick steps to the large windows. Never one to give up easily, you heard him follow close behind.

He beat you there and pushed open the glass door before gesturing towards the balcony in silence.

You looked down at your feet until the skyline drew your eyes. The plan to diffuse the tension had not worked in the slightest. The moonlit balcony overlooking the beautiful city had only made it worse.

You heard him stop a few feet from you and then settle on the lone armchair. The reality of the situation hit you like a train. Away from the windows, you had privacy. This high up no one would see you and everyone else was in bed. You'd meant to creep out of the lion's den but instead, you'd locked yourself in.

“The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to,” Zemo mused from behind you.

“Carl Sanburg,” you confirmed, so he knew you didn't think he'd made it up.

Both of you were silent then. Swaying in the tension you'd built. Sanity pulling you back inside, inexplicable hope keeping you planted in place.

“Are you lonely, Baron?”

The words fell from your lips more delicate and intimate than you had meant them to. You let slip that you cared about his answer. That you might even care to cure him of the ailment.

“Me? No.”

You turned and scoffed.

“Liar. You were in a cell for years and you hardly talk to anyone now that you’re out.”

He leaned back in the chair, arms on either rest and a leg crossed with the ankle of his right knee. His demeanor was harmless in the same way that a predator poised to pounce was. Elegant, still, and ready for the kill.

“Not true,” he corrected. “I talk to you.”

“One person isn’t enough,” you said, taking a step closer.

Were you walking into disaster? Or being pulled? You couldn't tell the difference between his seduction and your own reckless desires any longer.

“The right person though…can be,” he half-whispered. “And you, Y/N, are more than I deserve.”

He gazed up at you from the chair. Kings throughout history, in war-won golden thrones and elegant capes, paled in comparisons to how regal he looked. Anointed with a crown of moonlight, ruling over whomever he pleased.

Your eyes widened with the admission. “Baron — ”

“Helmut, please.” He stood then and met you near the railing, his hand grazing your hip. “Only if for tonight.”

You shook your head, knowing this was a bad idea. His hand made its way to your waist regardless. He pulled you against his chest before searching your eyes for any signal that you were going to run. You knew he’d find nothing. You knew you mirrored his look of lust with blown pupils and flushed cheeks.

“Have I gone too far,” he whispered, bringing his other hand to brush loose hair behind your ear.

“No,” you sighed, letting him pull you closer and brush his lips to your cheek and jaw.

“Tell me if I do,” he whispered again before finally capturing your lips with his.

You uttered no complaints as his tentative kiss turned bruising and possessive. His arms wound around your waist, crushing you into him. But you needed to feel closer. He grunted as you sprung to action, flinging your arms around his neck, deepening the desperate kiss. He tasted like whiskey and something sweet. A cool breeze brushed against the exposed parts of your body. You let your hands wander beneath his coat, chasing warmth and proximity. He let you do as you please, only insisting that his lips stayed on yours.

You let out a whimper as his hand explored the front of your dress. He stopped to press his warm hand against your breast, before holding your face.

It was then that he pulled away, steadying your searching lips with a grip on your chin.

“Ich esse nicht,” he sighed, kissing a pattern to your ear. “Ich schlafe nicht, ich tue nichts anderes, als an dich zu denken.”

His teeth grazed your pulse point, leaving you gasping for air.

“I don’t speak German,” you managed to stutter out.

A hand slid up the back of your dress, gripping the zipper before undoing it in one swift motion and the fabric fell to the floor. The cool air seized your naked torso for only a moment before Zemo pressed himself against you again. The coat you’d complained about before, now provided warmth and security. You tipped your head back, almost over the edge of the balcony as he continued worshipping your neck and chest.

“I don’t eat, I don’t sleep,” he said between wet open-mouthed kisses on your breasts. His hot mouth left purple spots that cooled instantly in the chilly night air.

“I do nothing but think of you,” he finished before toying with your hardened nipple between his teeth.

You moaned then, louder than you should’ve, and let your eyes flutter open. The world was upside-down but you made no motion to move. You were making Madripoor proud by being pressed up against a balcony by an international criminal.

Utterly pleased with himself, Zemo raised his face back towards yours, leaning you both over the edge.

“Shhh liebling,” he cooed.

He pulled you back over, kissing your shoulder before removing his jacket and draping it over you. Each brush of his lips feeling more improper than the last.

“We would not want your friends to see you like this.”

In the next second, he swept you off of your feet and hoisted you into his strong arms. You watched the world sway around you and then settle when he placed you on the lounge chair, letting you get some warmth back from the coat and cushions.

He draped one of your legs over an armrest, exposing you to him except for a thin pair of underwear.

“Not with you spread open for me,” he growled. He towered over you for only a moment before kneeling between your legs. The man whose stature made him the tallest amongst giants; the most important in any room he chose, knelt before you.

“What would they say,” he mumbled in a trace. His hands gripped both of your thighs, causing an eruption of goosebumps across your whole body. “If they saw you like this, with me?”

He looked up at you then, raising an eyebrow, and tracing the inside of your thigh with his thumb.

You answered him breathlessly. “They’d tell you to stop.”

“And what would you say to that?”

His voice sent shockwaves through your system. Dark and sultry, with a hint of danger. You threw your head back again, barely able to keep a single thought straight. Your body shuddered but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the need for his touch. When you looked back to him, he was surveying your body with the hunger of a starved wolf.

“Would you want me to stop?” His voice was gentle and sweet then, asking in earnest.

“Meine Liebe," he taunted you for consent as he flashed a smirk and pulled something from his pocket.

Cold metal grazed your thigh. A moan escaped your throat as he unsheathed a serrated knife and caressed your skin with the dull side.

“I wouldn’t want you to stop,” you gasped, almost vibrating with anticipation. “I don’t want you to stop — Helmut — please don’t stop.”

He chucked again, before focusing his attention on the area between your legs. You bucked slightly as the icy knife slid underneath the fabric. He made one strong slash upwards and you felt the fabric fall away from your wet core. One of his hands gripped your ass, but only for a second before he tore the rest of the fabric from your body.

“How could I ever withhold something from you, liebling?” His nose grazed your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. It was only a moment before you felt his breath between your legs.

“How cruel it would be,” he growled. You moaned and slapped a hand over your mouth as he kissed your sensitive bundle of nerves. “To not give you everything.”

His tongue swirled against you in a tantalizing pattern, stroking you deliciously. He licked you methodically like he was reading the blueprint of your body right then and there. He held each thigh in a punishing grip, pressing you deeper into the cushions as he made a meal of you. The stars above your head blurred and the universe shifted.

If this was your destruction then it was illustrious. You'd do it over and over again until you landed in a cell right next to him.

“Helmut,” you whined with a heaving chest.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled between flicks of his tongue. “And it is yours.”

You would’ve begged him to let you cum but he beat you to it, making your back arch and mouth fall open in ecstasy. You trembled beneath him, over and over, but he didn’t let up. Your legs strained from being extended by his unflinching hands. You tried to stutter something out to him but no sound came except for content sighs and haphazard gasps. But his eyes remained closed regardless of the noise.

Without his mouth on you, he would’ve been mistakable for a good Christian, deep in prayer. Brow's furrowed in focus and devotion; lips moving in silent divine appeals. Only he could make you feel worthy of an alter. You couldn't picture anyone ever worshipping you in the same way again. It was his, you thought. I am his.

Lost in pleasure and shock, you reached up to run your nails against his scalp. Only then did he release you, and raise to meet your waiting lips as they trembled.

“You,” was all you could manage to whisper. “Only you.”

He pulled you from the seat, to wrap your legs around him. You brought your forehead to his and let him pepper you with chaste kisses.

“When I have you,” he said, before pulling the coat around you again. “It will be in a proper bed.”

You stared at him, confused and overwhelmed. The space between your legs ached with a longing to be filled but he let your legs fall away, and stood up.

“We can’t…I mean not now — they’ll hear.”

Zemo smiled and nodded while looking for something on the ground. After a moment of searching, he picked up the torn pieces of the red underwear you had been wearing. Before you could retrieve it, he pocketed the shorn fabric and stared you straight in the eyes.

“Worry not, Y/N,” he purred, reaching a hand out to help you up. “We have all the time in the world.”

#zemo fic #baron zemo fic #baron zemo x you #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo #helmut zemo smut #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #zemo smut #zemo x reader #zemo fanfic

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ibijau · 3 years

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The Noble Art of Tree Climbing / On AO3

Since he lost his mother, Lan Xichen hasn't felt anything at all, and his cultivation is starting to suffer. His worried uncle decides to take him to the Unclean Realm for a change of air.

It was not a common gift to see the threads of fate between people, but Lan Xichen’s mother had called it a blessing from the heavens when she’d still been alive. She had said it was a sign fate trusted him to be wise enough to deal with that knowledge, and that he would have to be worthy of it. Lan Xichen had promised that he would try, though he wasn’t always sure what that was even supposed to mean.

At that time, all he had really known was that his mother’s thread went out of the Cloud Recesses, and his father bore no thread at all.

It was only after his mother’s death that it had hit him how odd it was for a marriage to have happened between them in spite of this, and even more so for his brother and him to have been born of such an improbable union. He had been told that dual cultivation was necessary for children to be born, and that it could only be practiced with one’s true love. His teachers couldn’t have lied, so clearly his parents had to have been in love, even without a red thread of fate, right?

It often threw Lan Xichen into a pensive state whenever he looked at the thread attached to one of his fingers, or his brother’s thread. Would that fate be enough to make them happy? It clearly hadn’t been enough for their mother, who’d had that melancholy air about her, especially in her last few months, as if even visits from her sons weren’t enough to lift her spirits anymore. But maybe it was just that she had never had the chance of meeting that person at the other end of that thread. Or else, since she didn’t have Lan Xichen’s gift, she hadn’t known that person’s true value, and had gotten roped into another match that did not suit her. Unless it was for that person’s sake that she had committed the crime that Lan Xichen wasn’t supposed to know about, the murder that had caused him and his brother to be born even when they shouldn’t have.

Lan Xichen thought about his mother a lot in the weeks after she passed away. He was not as demonstrative as Lan Wangji about missing her, but the pain was still there and he didn’t know how to deal with it at all. It paralysed him sometimes, and he would spend half a day staring at the red thread on his hand, wondering how different things could have been for his mother, if she had only known better, if she’d gone to that other person, if Wangji and him had never been born. Maybe she would have been happy. Maybe she wouldn’t have died.

Maybe it would have been better for everyone, if Lan Xichen had never existed at all.

Those thoughts became so bad that his grief started to impact his cultivation, which was when Lan Qiren decided to intervene, and to find some distractions for Lan Xichen. He took his nephew along to a few conferences, hoping it might cheer him up. Lan Xichen, dutifully, tried to be entertained by all those old people discussing arcane cultivation techniques or chatting about politics, but it was very boring and just gave him more time to think about his mother.

He could have tried to go play with the children of those other sects, but grown-ups always praised him when he tried to stay with them and to act serious, so he figured playing would have been a bad thing. He was going to be a sect leader someday, anyway, and he had to be serious. If he wasn’t serious enough, then he’d disappoint his sect, as his father had done. Lan Xichen didn’t want to be a disappointment. And anyway, even when he did try to play with others, he was often too sad, so they would leave him behind and continue their games without him. It was better to stay with the grown-ups.

It went on like this for half a year, Lan Xichen withdrawing further and further upon himself, Lan Wangji stubbornly waiting daily in front of their mother’s prison to see her. Lan Qiren appeared to be at his wit’s end, which only made Lan Xichen feel worse. After having lost his mother, he started worrying that his uncle too would leave them, disappointed that his nephews refused to behave themselves. He tried, hard, to act as if things were fine again, as if he didn’t miss his mother at all, but it was all for naught. Even if he could sometimes fool those who only knew him in passing, his cultivation was still suffering greatly from his too intense grief, and so Lan Qiren knew that things still weren’t right.

Out of other options, Lan Qiren decided that a longer change of habit might do his nephews good. Lan Xichen, privately, thought that it showed their uncle really didn’t understand Lan Wangji at times, because his brother thrived on habits and would be upset over any change. At the same time, Lan Qiren was older and knew better, of course. So Lan Xichen kept any remarks he might have had to himself, and nodded along to his uncle’s idea.

The place where Lan Qiren took them was a far away one, too far in fact for him to have taken Lan Xichen there to conferences before. Lan Qiren wasn’t the strongest of flyers, least of all when he had to carry along a boy of nearly ten years old. And yet he managed, with both his nephews riding his sword with him. Lan Xichen figured his uncle had to be really desperate, and he felt awful for causing so much trouble.

That place had an unpleasant name, an unpleasant look, and the disciples of that sect had an unpleasant air to them, grim and a little rough, completely unlike the people Lan Xichen was used to at home.

Privately, and as soon as he laid eyes upon the Unclean Realm, Lan Xichen found himself hoping that Lan Wangji would throw a tantrum and they’d have to go home soon. If he had to be miserable, he’d rather be miserable in a familiar place.

For the time being, they were welcomed at the gate by a very tall woman, taller than Lan Qiren or any of the disciples of her sect. She was Nie-furen, Lan Qiren explained as she guided them inside the Unclean Realm. The warning was appreciated. She really didn’t look much like the few women Lan Xichen had seen in his life, and wore men’s clothes. If he hadn’t been warned, he might have mistaken her for a man, though he would learn in the coming days that nearly all the women in the Unclean Realm dressed in that manner to be more efficient in Night Hunts. They only wore normal dresses for conferences, and only if they felt like it.

Nie-furen took them to a great hall where, seated upon a high and mighty throne, Nie-zongzhu greeted them with rather less effusions than Lan Xichen was used to from sect leaders, although that sober manner seemed to please Lan Qiren rather more than Jiang-zongzhu and Jin-zongzhu’s warmth.

Grown-ups were rather odd, and Lan Xichen didn’t quite have the capacity to reflect on that at the moment, too fascinated by the sight of Nie-zonghu.

Certainly, there was a lot to be fascinated by, when confronted by such a man. Although he was a little shorter than his wife when he eventually stood up, he was at least twice as broad, with hands so large that they could probably have wrapped around Lan Xichen’s shoulders and still have length to spare. None of that really mattered to Lan Xichen though. What really caught his attention was a detail that others wouldn’t have seen.

Nie-zongzhu had two red threads hanging from his hand.

Upon seeing this, Lan Xichen, who had struggled to feel anything for months and months now, was overcome with irrational anger. How unfair was it for that man to have two people fated to him, when his own parents had been denied such a happy fate? Sure, upon looking more closely, Lan Xichen realised that one appeared to have been severed. It had to have been rather recent, since its colour had only started its slow transformation toward the dull white it would become when the worst of the grief was over. Still, that man had had two fated lovers, when Lan Xichen’s mother had never lived with hers, when his father had been forced to accept the shadow of a love that could never be his.

How very unfair. Lan Xichen would have cried from rage if it wouldn’t have been disgraceful for his sect.

“And how long do you want to stay here then?” Nie-zongzhu asked, continuing a conversation that Lan Xichen hadn’t paid attention to.

“I was thinking a week to start,” Lan Qiren replied. “If it seems to be having positive effects, and if Nie-zongzhu has no objections, I’ll return to the Cloud Recesses and come back in a month or two to get them back.”

Nie zongzhu nodded, as did his wife.

“It’ll be good for our boys as well,” he said. “Huaisang hasn’t been the same either lately… not that I expect your boys to spend much time with him anyway. From what you’ve said about them, I think they’ll get along more with Mingjue, even with the age difference. Which is good too. He needs friends, that child.”

Nie-furen rolled her eyes at these words, and glared at her husband. He glared right back, and though there seemed to be no heat or anger between them, Lan Xichen still shivered at the intensity of emotion displayed there, right in front of outsiders. Things like that just didn’t happen at home, at least not in his experience. But then again, he’d never been in the same room as both his parents, so what did he know?

“Well, I guess that’s settled,” Nie-furen grumbled. “I’ll take those two to the training grounds so you can have a chat about politics. Don’t forget to tell Qiren about that thing that happened the other month at the border, I really didn’t like that.”

Without waiting for an answer, Nie-furen walked to Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji, grabbing both of them by the hand to lead them out of the hall. Lan Wangji tried to pull away, but stopped quickly after one severe look from Nie-furen who probably mistook his disgust for rebellion, the way some teachers did at home. Lan Wangji looked very miserable over being touched that way by a complete stranger, and Lan Xichen knew already that the rest of the day wasn’t going to be a good one for his little brother. He sighed. When Lan Wangji was having a bad day, everyone was having a bad day.

Feeling depressed over this situation, Lan Xichen’s gaze dropped to the ground. After just a few steps, his eyebrows rose high on his forehead as he realised that for some reason, they were following his red thread, something that had never happened before.

After years and years of seeing his own thread go far into the distance, Lan Xichen had stopped paying attention to it. Whenever he’d travelled with his uncle, the thread had always gone in a different direction from the one they were headed. At the venerable age of ten, Lan Xichen had determined that he was never going to meet the person fated for him. Considering his family’s luck with love, and after hearing his uncle’s many complaints on the topic, Lan Xichen usually thought it was for the best.

And yet, in spite of himself, Lan Xichen felt a little excitement start to spike inside his chest the longer they followed his thread. Things had been terrible for so long, but if he could just have one good thing again…

That excitement rose ever higher when Nie-furen called out her sons’ names, and Lan Xichen first laid eyes on Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue was a few years older than him, and a good deal taller too. He had the same hard eyes his mother had, and broad shoulders like his father. Lan Xichen had never really taken the time to wonder what he liked as far as others’ appearance went, but even he could only acknowledge that Nie Mingjue was a very handsome teenager, and one who very obviously already had a golden core. Combined with the things he’d heard here and there people say about Nie gongzi…

To Lan Xichen’s great joy, the red thread on his finger really was going toward Nie Mingjue, which sent his heart racing… until Nie Mingjue was close enough for his hand to be visible, and Lan Xichen realised there was no thread at all attached to the older boy. Instead, his own thread continued going behind Nie Mingjue, and toward another boy who was struggling to run as fast as Nie-gongzi, his round face all red from the effort.

Everything Nie Mingjue was, that boy wasn’t. He was small, a little scrawny, with ears too big for his face and his teeth looked all weird, perhaps because they were a mix of baby teeth, adult ones, and a lot of gaps where the adult teeth hadn’t yet started to grow.

Whatever spark of joy and hope Lan Xichen had felt quickly dissipated upon seeing the person whom fate had chosen for him. He should have known he wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Mingjue, these boys are Lan Huan and Lan Zhan,” Nie-furen announced. “They are the sons of Lan zongzhu, and will be staying here for a little while. I’ll leave them in your care, so be a good host.”

Nie Mingjue nodded nonchalantly, apparently not particularly impressed by his mother’s severe appearance. The same could not be said of the second boy who went very still when Nie-furen turned her attention to him.

“Huaisang, for once, be good as well and don’t cause trouble. Don’t bother them, and don’t create problems when others have decided what game they want to play, or else I’ll deal with you.”

“Yes, mother,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, giving his mother a half hearted bow. “If they’re here, does it mean we don’t have to train today?”

“You lazy boy, of course that’s your only worry!” Nie-furen sighed, trying not to smile. “It will be up to your guest, depending whether they’re interested in a demonstration or not. You’d better put in some real effort if they do.”

Nie Huaisang bowed again, but not quickly enough to hide a grimace. Worse still, when Nie-furen left, Nie Huaisang immediately stuck out his tongue in her direction, which scandalised both Lan boys.

Lan Xichen in particular felt his heart sink. If this was the person who was destined to share his life… it seemed like a fate even worse than his father’s, and it almost made him want to cry. He would have, if not for Nie Mingjue’s presence. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of an older boy this accomplished, his pride just wouldn’t survive it.

“Stop being a brat,” Nie Mingjue ordered his brother, lightly slapping the back of Nie Huaisang’s head. This, in turn, made him bite his tongue, hard enough to cry a little.

“Mean! Da-ge is the worst!”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, all of his attention on the Lan brothers. Lan Xichen tried to stand as tall as he could, to make himself look older than he was.

“So, you’re Lan Huan, uh?” Nie Mingjue asked. “My father says he’s seen you at some conferences, and that you’re always very well behaved. He’s always saying we should be more like that. I guess that’s why you’ve been invited here?”

There was something in Nie Mingjue’s tone of voice that seemed to imply that ‘well behaved’ wasn’t a good thing to be. Lan Xichen, who worked so hard to meet all the expectations of his uncle even when he was so constantly sad and empty, felt baffled by the idea. A little embarrassed as well. He so wanted Nie Mingjue to think he was cool too, but apparently he had failed before even having the chance to prove himself.

“Do you know how to fight?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Or are you still too young for that?”

“I’m ten,” Lan Xichen retorted with perhaps a little more annoyance than was really polite. “Of course I know how to fight. But I didn’t bring a sword for a demonstration, and Qinghe Nie uses sabres, so I can’t borrow something to spar with you.”

“As if you’d be good enough to spar with da-ge anyway,” Nie Huaisang claimed, earning himself another light slap on the head from his brother. “What? It’s true! Nobody’s better than you. You can even fight with grown-ups already, and everyone says the Lans are just a bunch of monks that only play music, and…”

“Huaisang, shut up,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “I swear I’ll tell mother if you keep insulting our guests.”

“I’m not insulting… oh. I was rude?”

Nie Mingjue nodded, which made Nie Huaisang look a little awkward.

“Spar with me, Lan Huan” Nie Mingjue decided. “We do have some swords, for training. It’s always good to know how to use more than one weapon. Come with me, we’ll find you something.”

Maybe Lan Qiren had been onto something with his idea of coming to this strange place, because for the first time in ages, Lan Xichen found himself feeling genuinely excited about something. He was going to spar, with an older boy, and one that looked really cool, and who wasn’t even acting like it’d be a chore to practice with someone younger.

It was fun, fighting with Nie Mingjue. The sword Lan Xichen had been given wasn’t great, nothing at all like the one he used at home, but even with an inferior weapon he held his own. Nie Mingjue had the advantage of size, training, and experience, but Lan Xichen’s smaller size could be an advantage too, and he almost landed a few blows, for which Nie Mingjue complimented him.

It had been a long while since a compliment really thrilled him.

They sparred for a long while. Longer perhaps than was quite wise, considering that Lan Xichen hadn’t trained very seriously that past year. Even as he grew tired and started making mistakes, Lan Xichen refused to give up, desperate to absorb every little bit of fun he could while the feeling lasted. He didn’t even mind when Nie Mingjue started pushing him into a corner of the training field, clearly on the verge of winning their friendly fight.

Lan Xichen didn’t mind, but Lan Wangji did.

He was always a bit of an odd child, wary of strangers, protective of family. If Lan Xichen had not been so taken by his match with Nie Mingjue, he would have noticed his brother’s growing distress about the fight, would have seen that Nie Huaisang wasn’t paying attention to Lan Wangji (nor the fight for that matter), that there was no adults around them to check what they were doing. He would have reacted faster when Lan Wangji ran onto the training field, would have deflected Nie Mingjue’s sabre to protect him.

Lan Xichen would have…

He didn’t.

Because it was only a friendly spar, and because Nie Mingjue was so skilled, he managed, just barely, to avoid inflicting any serious injury onto Lan Wangji. Still the little boy now had a bleeding gash on his forearm, spilling blood in a thin but steady flow.

"I'll take him to the doctor," Nie Mingjue announced, picking up Lan Wangji as if he weighed nothing. It said a lot about Wangji's shock that he didn't try to escape and just kept uselessly pressing his hand on the wound, wailing like a miserable kitten. "Huaisang, stay here with Lan Huan. If someone comes looking for us, tell them what happened."

Nie Huaisang, who'd just trotted toward them when he'd heard shouting, rose on his toes to catch a glimpse of Wangji’s wound.

"Is he going to die?" he asked. "That's a lot of blood, and mommy says…"

"Shut up, you're rude again," Nie Mingjue snapped.

Nie Huaisang flinched and stepped away, falling silent. Nie Mingjue left, all but running away with poor Lan Wangji in his arms while Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang stood there, watching him disappear.

When Nie Mingjue was out of view, Nie Huaisang grabbed Lan Xichen's hand and tried to drag him away.

"Let's go, it's boring here."

Lan Xichen tried to pull his hand free. He was less difficult than his brother, but they shared a dislike of being touched by strangers, which Nie Huaisang was. Even if they were linked by fate… In fact, because they were linked by fate, because Nie Huaisang had joined their hands that carried that horrible red thread, Lan Xichen was even less inclined than usual to let himself be touched.

“He said to wait here,” he complained, pulling hard to get free, in vain. Nie Huaisang was small and skinny, but he had a strong grip. “We can’t disobey.”

“Yes we can,” Nie Huaisang said. “It’s easy, I disobey all the time. And mother said we had to be good hosts. It’s too boring to stay here, so I’ll take you somewhere more fun. Do you like candies?”

“Sugar is bad for you,” Lan Xichen recited. He did like candies, very much so. His uncle said candies were bad for his health and for his teeth, but his mother always used to give him some anyway.

He hadn’t had any candies since she’d died.

That thought, combined with fear about Lan Wangji’s wound, finished ruining Lan Xichen’s fragile good mood.

“Mommy used to say it’s only bad if you have too much,” Nie Huaisang protested. He pulled again on Lan Xichen’s hand. “Do you like birds?”

The question surprised Lan Xichen. He had never really taken time to wonder if he liked birds or not. Nobody had ever asked before.

“They’re pretty. I guess I like them well enough.”

“I love birds,” Nie Huaisang announced proudly. “Do you want to see a raven’s nest? There’s chicks in it, and they are very ugly, it’s very cute.”

“Things can’t be ugly and cute at the same time.”

“Yes they can. You have to come and see the chicks, and then you’ll understand. Let’s go check on them, please?”

Lan Xichen hesitated. Nie Mingjue had told them to stay where they were, implying that adults would soon come to check on them. After that incident with Wangji, it was almost certain that Lan Qiren would realise his plan was not going to work, and that he would take his nephews back home right away. Lan Xichen wanted to go home. Home was very sad, but it was also very safe, and he didn’t have to feel any big emotions over there.

But if they went home as soon as adults came to fetch them, that meant Lan Xichen would not have a chance to see those raven chicks. It would be upsetting, because then he would spend the rest of his life wondering how any creature could be both ugly and cute.

“Is it very far from here?” Lan Xichen asked.

Nie Huaisang grinned, and pulled again on Lan Xichen’s hand who stopped resisting and followed at last.

“It’s really close,” Nie Huaisang claimed as they walked. “It’s in the gardens by my bedroom. Do you like flowers? We have very nice flowers there. It’s not the best season for it, but dad planted mulberries there for mommy and me. Because of what she called me, you know?”

“You talk a lot,” Lan Xichen mumbled. “Do you need to hold my hand?”

“You could get lost,” Nie Huaisang replied, and then tried to be quiet for a moment.

It was true that Lan Xichen might have gotten lost easily in that place. It felt very different from the Cloud Recesses, with walls and turns everywhere, more a fortress than a place for cultivation. Maybe it was better that Nie Huaisang kept holding his hand. He’d gotten used to it anyway, and already stopped minding. In fact, it was even a little nice. Wangji used to hold his hand a lot when they went places, but his hatred of others’ touch had become too intense in that past year.

“You said it wasn’t very far,” Lan Xichen remarked after a while, growing worried that maybe their escape would be noticed and they’d be punished.

“We’re almost there,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “Just a little further… I had to take a different way than usual so mother wouldn’t see us. This is a secret way she doesn’t know about. You have to promise you won’t tell!”

“You shouldn’t keep secrets from your mother.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged, and kept pulling Lan Xichen forward.

“It’s okay, it’s not actually bad if I keep secrets,” he said. “She’s not my real mother anyway. She’s just dad’s wife.”

“I don’t understand,” Lan Xichen said, which was almost entirely a lie.

He thought he understood, but it couldn’t be that. If it was what he was thinking about, then surely Nie Huaisang wouldn’t speak so freely about it. Things like that… the adults didn’t speak about them, and the children weren’t supposed to know anything at all about them. It was gossip, and gossip was forbidden.

Nobody must have told that to Nie Huaisang, who cheerfully chattered on.

“It’s like this: Mother isn’t my real mother,” he explained. “She married dad when they were both young. Then she had Mingjue, and he’s the real son that matters. But then dad had me with my real mommy, because he met her on a Night Hunt and she was the most beautiful woman in the entire world, and also she called him some very bad words when he acted like an idiot, so he fell in love with her even if he was married. And then… ah, that’s the garden!”

At last, after turning endlessly among grey walls, they had indeed reached a little oasis of green. It was a very pretty little garden, neatly kept and organised around one very tall tree. Lan Xichen guessed the nest had to be somewhere up there.

He badly wanted to see it, now that they had come all that way, but Nie Huaisang was still chatting and it would have been rude to interrupt.

“It was real nice when I lived with mommy and my aunt and uncle,” Nie Huaisang said, walking toward the tree, still pulling Lan Xichen by the hand. “But then a while ago mommy got sick real bad, so dad brought us here because cultivators have better doctors. But then she died anyway, and my uncle didn’t want me back even though I thought he liked me, but actually he didn’t because mom having me when she wasn’t married was real bad? I don’t get it, but it’s what da-ge says must have happened, and da-ge is always right. So dad said I should be taught to be a cultivator, and now I’m stuck here.”

Nie Huaisang paused for breath and sighed deeply. “I really miss mommy.”

“I miss my mother too,” Lan Xichen said without thinking. “She died last year.”

Nie Huaisang froze, and threw him a terrified look.

“Was I rude again? I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t have talked about mommy.”

Lan Xichen gave the question some consideration before shaking his head.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. I don’t get to talk about her a lot,” he confessed. “Uncle and her didn’t get along. I think he was very angry at her sometimes, so I don’t want to bother him.”

“Mother is angry at dad about me,” Nie Huaisang said, as if sharing some great wisdom. “Da-ge says mother still likes me, though. But also that I shouldn’t talk too much about my real mommy, and also I shouldn’t call her my real mommy because it hurts mother. Oh! But I’m not angry at your mommy, and you’re not angry at mine. If you want you can tell me about her! And I’ll tell you about mine?”

It was a very tempting offer. Lan Xichen missed his mother so much it hurt every time he thought about her, and he was indeed thinking about her most of the time. He’d always been thinking a lot about her, even before she got sick and died. He’d missed her even when she was alive, he sometimes thought. But he couldn’t have told that to anyone. His father never wanted to see them unless it was important or a holiday, and Lan Qiren really didn’t like hearing anyone talk about his sister-in-law, and Wangji… Wangji still missed her so bad, he still didn’t really understand that she was gone for ever, so Lan Xichen didn’t say anything for fear of making things harder for his brother.

Maybe it was fine to talk to Nie Huaisang.

“She was sick a long time,” Lan Xichen explained, letting his eyes fall to the ground. “But even when she was sick, she would still try to be nice to us. She’d read us stories. Then she got really too sick, and it was me who read stories for her and for Wangji. Then the month after we were told we couldn’t visit her like usual, and I heard people say she’d died.”

“You didn’t live with her?”

“No, of course not,” Lan Xichen said, which earned him a look of horror from Nie Huaisang, as if he’d said his mother had two heads. “Nobody lives with their mother.”

“Yes they do!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed. “I lived with my mommy my whole life until she died! Everyone lives with their mommies. How else is she going to give you a kiss before sleep?”

“She didn’t.”

Nie Huaisang gasped. “But then you’re not protected!”

“Protected against what?”

Nie Huaisang threw Lan Xichen a pitying look, as if that were the saddest thing he’d ever heard.

“Against the nightmares! You have to have a kiss before sleep,” Nie Huaisang explained in a very serious tone, like a teacher giving a lesson, “or else you’re going to have bad dreams. It’s most efficient if it’s your mommy who does it, of course. Dad does it too sometimes, but he’s busy and I don’t like his moustache anyway because it scratches my cheek, and also he doesn’t give as good protection. Now it’s mostly da-ge who gives me a good night kiss. He complains a lot, and he tickles me sometimes, but it’s really good for protecting, almost as good as mommy.”

A little dark ball of cold and hot formed over Lan Xichen’s heart at the idea that in this world, at least one person had had constant access to their own mother, to her hugs, to her kisses, to her soft words. And maybe it wasn’t just Nie Huaisang who’d been that lucky: after all, Nie-furen had welcomed them alongside her husband, she had chatted with Nie Mingjue quite easily, and seemed free to come and go as she pleased even though she was the sect leader’s wife. Maybe it was a Nie thing.

But now that he thought of it, everywhere his uncle had taken him that past year, sect leaders would welcome their guests in person, with their wives at their side if they had one.

Maybe it wasn’t that children living with their mothers was a Nie thing.

Maybe it was Wangji and him not seeing their mother more than once a month that was odd, just as it was odd for their parents to not be linked by fate, the way so many other married people were.

Lan Xichen didn’t know when he started crying. He only realised when Nie Huaisang squeezed his hand, and tried to wipe his face with his sleeve, looking as if he might cry too.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude!” he cried out, scrubbing Lan Xichen’s cheeks a little too hard, unaware of his own strength. “I always say the wrong thing like that. I don’t even understand what I say that’s bad, but people always get angry and say I’m insolent and rude. But I didn’t want to be rude! Can I do something so you’ll stop crying?”

“I miss my mother,” Lan Xichen sobbed.

He’d hoped that talking about her would make it hurt less, but it hadn’t worked. He still missed her as much, but now he also had to deal with the realisation that if his family hadn’t been so strange, he might have seen her a lot more before she died.

“Oh. Then I guess it’s okay to cry,” Nie Huaisang said, giving up on drying Lan Xichen’s face and instead squeezing his hand again. “I cry a lot too about mommy. Everyone says I shouldn’t, because it was long ago and because boys shouldn’t cry. But da-ge lets me cry and he doesn’t tell anyone. I won’t tell either, I promise!”

Lan Xichen tried to thank Nie Huaisang, but only ended up sobbing harder. His face was awash with tears and snot, his eyes and throat hurt from crying so hard, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. Except for the day he’d heard his mother had died, and a little at the funeral too, he hadn’t really cried in all that time. He’d just felt numb and cold. He’d felt as if nothing really mattered, not in a world where his mother wasn’t there to smile at him anymore.

After such a long time feeling so little, there was a twisted joy in giving in to his sorrow, in crying until there were no tears left in him, until he couldn’t even stand anymore and Nie Huaisang had to help him sit under that big tree.

The whole time Lan Xichen cried, Nie Huaisang stayed silent. He shed a few tears of his own, either out of sympathy or because he’d been reminded that his mother too was gone for good, but didn’t say a word.

He also didn’t let go of Lan Xichen’s hand, not even one moment, even though there was no risk of getting lost now. Lan Xichen was grateful for that. In the midst of the immense sorrow that had finally overcome him, it was nice to know he wasn’t alone.

After a long, long while, Lan Xichen calmed down at last. He was hiccuping a little, and felt a little bit of headache on his forehead, but other than that he felt better than he had in a long while. Not good, not yet, but better.

“It was a good big cry,” Nie Huaisang said when it was over. “Sometimes, you need a good big cry, da-ge says. Do you want to go back now?”

Lan Xichen wiped his face clean, or as close to clean as it was ever going to be without some fresh water to help.

It was already late, he figured, and by then people had to have noticed they had disobeyed Nie Mingjue’s order to stay put. They were going to be punished for that. Lan Xichen didn’t like being punished, but he also felt that since it was going to happen anyway, he might as well try to make it worth the future discomfort.

“I think I’d like to see those baby ravens now,” he told Nie Huaisang, who grinned as if he’d been given all his favourite candies at once.

“Yes! But we’ll have to climb up the tree. Do you know how?”

Lan Xichen shook his head. Tree climbing wasn’t part of the official curriculum of Gusu Lan.

“It’s fine, I’ll teach you,” Nie Huaisang offered. “I’m very good at it, because da-ge taught me how.”

“He seems like a good da-ge,” Lan Xichen remarked as he stood up.

“There’s no better da-ge in the whole entire world,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “He is always grumpy, but he gives me hugs and also he lets me have all his mushrooms and sometimes he shares his desserts with me. If you want, I can share him with you. But he’s my da-ge first, so don’t forget!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t steal him,” Lan Xichen promised, though he would have dearly liked a hug, and also maybe some dessert.

For the time being, Lan Xichen contented himself with Nie Huaisang’s explanation on how to climb a tree. It turned out that it wasn’t too hard, especially not for someone with martial art training, so Lan Xichen quickly got the hang of it and followed Nie Huaisang high up that tree.

The raven chicks really were extremely ugly, but Lan Xichen had to admit that they were also strangely cute. Nie Huaisang and him were laughing together about it when Nie-Furen and Lan Qiren found them. They’d been sitting on a branch for so long that it was very nearly night, and they had to be rescued. Nie Huaisang might have been very good at climbing trees, but it turned out that he still hadn’t learned how to get back down except by falling, or by having his brother climb up to get him.

Since Nie Mingjue wasn’t there, it had to be Lan Qiren who went up to grab them. He looked very cross about it, which scared Lan Xichen at first. Then he noticed that Nie Huaisang was struggling not to giggle, and… and it was true that Lan Qiren was making a very funny face as he went up the tree, so Lan Xichen found himself laughing as well.

They were both still laughing when they hopped down from Lan Qiren’s shoulders onto the ground. Surely this insolence, combined with their earlier disobedience of Nie Mingjue’s order, should have gotten them punished. Indeed Nie-furen appeared in favour of that, but Lan Qiren looked at his nephew in a funny way before asking Nie-furen for leniency.

“I haven’t heard him laugh in all that time,” Lan Qiren explained, and immediately Nie-furen’s anger cooled down a little.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad in the Unclean Realm after all, Lan Xichen thought as they all walked away together to go have dinner. And maybe it would be okay that he was apparently linked by fate to someone like Nie Huaisang.

Lan Xichen was glad when his uncle told him that night before bed that since Lan Wangji’s wound was nothing bad at all, that their plan hadn’t changed and they would be staying a little while in the Unclean Realm for a change of air.

After all, Nie Mingjue had just promised Huaisang, Wangji, and him that he’d teach them how to climb down from trees, and that would surely be great fun.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #nie mingjue #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #This was supposed to be a valentine fic looooool #but I'm trying to clean out my wip list during random bursts of energy

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darklove9314-blog · 3 years

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Nessian Mating Cermony

Happy Nessian month!!! Since I already wrote my version of Nessian’s mating ceremony in my fanfiction Symphonia,I thought I’d share it again on here because I love it so much. Also this Fic does contain spoilers for ACOSF so read at you own risk!!! @illyrianet

Not having second thoughts, are you?” Elain asked placing the last of the flowers in Nesta’s braid as Nesta stared out the window surveying the preparations for the mating bond ceremony down below.

“Not at all.” Nesta smiled turning away from the window as a soft cry filled the room.

“Sorry. He’s been fussy lately.” Feyre explained, exhaustion filling her eyes accentuating the dark circles underneath them as Nesta strode over to them holding out her arms.

“May I?” Nesta asked. She hadn’t put on her dress yet and they still had a few more hours to spare.

“Only if you’re sure.” Feyre answered handing Nyx over to Nesta. Her nephew fitting comfortably in her arms. Still fussing but staring at her with those big blue eyes staring at her with wonder.

“Hello, little one.” She cooed running a hand over his black hair trying to soothe him. Feyre taking a seat in the nearest chair, exhaustion finally taking over.

The baby reached up touching Nesta’s cheek as she rocked him back and forth, her sisters looking at both.

“What?” She asked Nyx squirming in her arms probably wondering why she stopped. She continued to rock him.

“Nothing.” Feyre smiled as Nesta patted Nyx’s back, a small burp falling from his mouth. Some spit up getting on Nesta’s shirt.

Nesta shrugged grabbing the tissue Elain offered and cleaning it off.

“I think we found out the reason why he was fussy.” Nesta laughed, her nephew smiling handing him back to Feyre.

“Are you ready to get dressed?” Elain asked excited as she went to where the dress hung.

“Yes.” Nesta answered excitement filling her as she slipped off her clothes before Feyre and Elain helped her in the dress.

She went to the full-length mirror and inspected herself, her breath catching slightly.

The mating dress she had chosen was a long sleeve high neck dress with full skirts and a lace bodice. She had opted for flowers in her hair and no crown like Cassian had joked about. There was no need for one. Tonight, she would officially be mated to the love of her life and she for one couldn’t wait to see what their future would hold.

A knock sounded from the door and Emerie emerged smiling.

“You look beautiful.” She said, Gwyn coming in behind her.

“You came.” She smiled pulling both into a hug.

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Gwyn answered the light catching her red hair.

“You’re almost ready.”

“Almost?” Nesta asked as they all pulled something out, Nesta lifting a brow. “What is this?”

“You’ll have to give it back after the ceremony, but I thought you might want to burrow it for the day.” Gwyn said taking her friendship bracelet and clasping it beside Nesta’s on her wrist.

“I have these blue garters in the shop.” Emerie smiled as Nesta slipped it on.

“When I went to the rainbow the other day and I saw this thought of you.” Feyre smiled. The silver comb in her hand as she placed it in Nesta’s hair and then she turned to Elain.

“I know we don’t have much, but I figured you would want this today.” Elain smiled as Elain gave her a dagger, the handle made of wood.

“It has flames on it.” She smiled as she turned to Feyre.

“We may have refurnished that old dresser.” Feyre smiled. “Elain and I have similar ones.”

Nesta smiled at her sisters. Tears coming to her eyes. “You did all this for me?”

“We may be fae, but it doesn’t mean we have to let go of everything.” Feyre smiled as Gwyn, Emerie, Feyre, and Elain pulled her into a hug, and she stood there letting the love of her sister’s flow through her.

Gwyn squeezed her hand as her and Emerie went to go stand with their small group of friends and family as her, Feyre and Elain remained. The fae didn’t have the same traditions as mortal weddings. Bridesmaids were not a thing in the fae world, so Nesta would stand up there alone with Cassian and the priestess who would officiate their mating ceremony.

“I’ll be up front.” Elain stated squeezing Nesta’s hand before heading out the door out with Nyx to the sitting area.

“Are you ready for this?” Feyre asked taking Nesta’s hand in her own.

“Will you walk me down to him?” Nesta asked as Feyre smiled.

“Of course, I will.” Feyre answered as the doors sliding her arm into Nesta’s as she opened the doors and Nesta took everything in.

Music played from the Symphonia signaling her arrival. Candles lite the isle, garland hung from the ceiling, the windows looking out to the Sidra as lace and silk lined the chairs to the alter and all went quiet. She sensed Gwyn, Elain, Emerie, Feyre, Rhysand, Azriel, Mor, and Nyx in the room, but all fell away as her eyes landed on Cassian. Her lover, her friend, and her mate. His eyes fixed on hers and it was as if they were the only two in the universe.

Tears filled his eyes matching her own as Feyre walked her down to him as Feyre placed Nesta’s hand into Cassian’s and Cassian looked at Feyre a smile on his beautiful face.

“I got her. Don’t worry.” Cassian promised squeezing Nesta’s hand and pulling her to him, her heart beating in time with his. There was nothing else. No one else besides them. His eyes saying all the words that his mouth could not. Keeping her fingers interlaced with his.

“I love you.” He mouthed to her, calming her nerves.

“I love you too.” She mouthed back, her smile brightening the room.

The priestess started off with the opening prayer for their ceremony before they recited their vows to each other promising to love and protect each other for as long as they lived. After they were finished the priestess spoke a prayer to the mother to bless this union with love, peace, and fertility instructing them to open the bond to each other.

Their hearts beat as one as Nesta and Cassian opened their bond to each other, the gold light of their souls flowing into each other illuminating the room with its essence.

When the priestess was finished with her prayer, she looked to both Nesta and Cassian asking if they had brought their mating food.

Elain smiled bringing up the lemon blueberry muffin handing it to Nesta as Azriel gave Cassian the chocolate cake making Nesta smile. Elain had helped Nesta, and Cassian make both. Careful not to interrupt them making it and giving them helpful instructions.

“No turning back now.” Cassian smiled illuminating the room as her smirk matched his.

“Thank the Gods.” She answered offering him the muffin as he offered her a bite of the cake.

The bond sang, his golden thread floating into her as her golden thread flowed into him. Just like it had done during solstice night. Their souls twining as one. And she was not afraid. Of him. Of this. Her lover. Her friend. Her husband. Her mate. She had expected the binding of their wrist next, but Mor smiled coming up to Cassian and placing two wedding bands in his free hand. Her eyebrow lifted in question.

“I heard it’s tradition for husband and wife to exchange rings. “

“Cassian.” She whispered at a loss for words. Tears blurring her vision.

“You are mine, just like I am yours. And I know how important those words are to you as well. You are my mate, but I would also love to call you my wife. And I’d be honored if you called me your husband.”

He set the rings in Nesta’s hand and clasped her other hand on top of it placing his own on them. And without having to say the words, Nesta knew what he wanted her to do letting her power flow through her as she made a wish to be by his side forever the glow from her hands illuminating their bands before she opened her hand, Cassian taking her ring and sliding it on her left hand. The ring feeling like it always belonged there as she took his ring and slid it on his hand. Their worlds colliding, their hearts entwining as one. He leaned forward and kissed her, it holding all the power of the universe.

When the kiss ended, Cassian touched his forehead to hers as the priestess turned to Rhys and Feyre, they stepped up to the alter taking the black ribbon and intertwining their wrist together enchanting it to not fall away until their mating was consummated. Her love and need growing strong for the man before her. The priestess closed the ceremony declaring them mates. And no feeling in the world compared as they brought their mouth together, the room imploding with love, life, and laughter as they smiled at their friends, their family before heading off to finish their mating. Their life together begging at last.

#nesta archeron #nessian #nesta #cassian #acosf #acosf spoilers #a court of silver flames #nessianmonth

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the-firebender-girl · 4 years

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The Dragon’s Bride (Zuko x Reader)

A continuation to “The Dragon’s Mark”

-> Planning a wedding turned out to be way harder than ending a war.

A year has passed since Zuko formally courted Y/N. Ever since then the Fire Nation has been busy preparing for the wedding of a lifetime, after all the wedding of their Fire Lord is celebrated as one of the national holidays. It’s a grand occasion made for all, excitement buzzing in the air.

Wedding planning has been.... interesting, if you want to put it kindly. Y/N never knew that her wedding will be this elaborate. Iroh and Ty Lee has been drilling her non stop every single day on all the important details, especially when it comes to Fire Nation culture and customs. Long story short, she’s feeling more than slightly overwhelmed.

Today her parents will arrive in the capital, they had sailed all the way here from Agna Qel’a from about a month ago, it’s quite a long journey to make after all. This is definitely a break that she deserves and look forward to, although Zuko is all worked up about it, scared that they won’t like him. Not that she can blame him for feeling that way, after all he was there when the Siege of the North happened, and in some ways played a part in what follows.

But Y/N assured him time and time again that no matter what, she would do anything that she could to convince her parents to accept him as their son-in-law. She truly believes that despite his questionable past, Zuko has learned a lot and he has changed into a fine man. She only hopes that her parents could see him in that light too.

Zuko and Y/N stand side by side in the deck of the harbor, ready to welcome the visitors from up north. Specks of blue dot started to appear in the horizon, signaling the arrivals as the shape grew bigger and bigger. As the boats passed what remains of the Great Gates of Azulon, Y/N can see clearly the double-hulled vessels powered by waterbenders. Lips tugging up into a smile at the anticipation of meeting her parents again, how she misses them.

Y/N look to the side towards her betrothed just to find him swaying back and forth even though his feet is planted firmly. Hands fidgeting with the edge of his crimson robe. Biting his lower lips as his eyes is trained on the approaching ships. Even though the Water Tribe ships aren’t designed to be half as intimidating as how they make it in the Fire Nation, it still doesn’t help Zuko’s case.

Y/N chuckles and reached her hand towards Zuko’s, clasping their hands together. His head snapped towards her and he gave her a weak smile, a poor attempt on his part to cover just how anxious he is.

She extended her other hand to settle on his cheek, rubbing it soothingly. Feeling the texture of his freshly shaven skin, Iroh has been bugging Zuko to try and grow a beard or at least some stubble. But it seems like the idea hasn’t grown on him yet.

“You doing okay there, champ?” Y/N asked softly, cocking her head to the side.

“Honestly? I think i’m about to faint any moment now” Zuko replied, grimacing.

She trailed the both of her hands down slowly and finally settling on his waist, pulling him in closer into a hug. She leaned her face forward so that the tip of their noses and forehead are touching. Zuko sigh contentedly, enjoying all the ways that their bodies came into contact with each other. Relishing the feeling of her being soo close to him. Y/N once said that he might have a case of touch-starved, reluctant as he might on admitting it, he’s starting to see her point.

“Don’t let go” He mumbled out breathily and he earned another chuckle from his lover, a sound that always brings a smile to his lips.

“I see the appeal, love. But how are we supposed to greet them properly with the sickening amount of PDA that we’re displaying?” She teased him, to which Zuko just grunt in response, grudgingly putting some space between them.

They turned to look towards the ships, seeing that now it has dropped its anchors and the ramps are being lowered to the harbor.

One by one the passengers stepped out, the first few ones out is Chief Arnook and his wife, followed by the rest of the Council of Elders. Then two familiar figures made their way down, Tulok and Yuka, Y/N’s parents.

Y/N waved a hand excitedly towards them and they too gave a bright smile in return as they approach. When they all have stood in front of each other, Zuko and Y/N bow first to show their respect towards the elders, and they too follow suit after.

“It is my pleasure to welcome you here, Chief and Chieftess, I wish you a pleasant stay and the best of the Fire Nation can offer” Zuko said, addresing the leader of Northern Water Tribe.

“The pleasure is all mine, Fire Lord Zuko. After all this is a joyous momentum for both our people, the joining of Water Tribe and Fire Nation” Chief Arnook said solemnly, face showing his earnestness and support towards the union. “And it’s good to see you too, Ambassador Y/N” He said, looking towards Y/N.

“As do I, Chief Arnook. Thank you for coming all the way here for my wedding” She gave him a grateful smile.

The chief and chieftess then moved back to give space for Y/N’s parents. Y/N can hear Zuko’s breath starting to get heavy and she discretely put her hand on his lower back, rubbing soothing circles there.

Zuko and Y/N gave another bow, this time lower than the previous one. “Elder Tulok and Yuka, i’m humbled by your presence” Zuko said, still maintaining his bow.

“That is supposed to be my line, Fire Lord Zuko. Although formalities should be put aside if can, seeing that soon we’ll be family” Tulok said warmly, catching him by surprise.

Y/N’s mother also gave him a welcoming smile. “Thank you for taking care of our daughter, Fire Lord Zuko. And please just call us Yuka and Tulok, no need for the titles”

Zuko gave them a nod and smile back in return, “Of course, but only if you call me Zuko, after all i’ll be your son soon like you said”.

Y/N felt her chest swelling with happiness at the exchange between Zuko and her parents, they are off to a good start and that is more than she hoped for. Hopefully the rest of the week will be even better.

———————————————————————

That night, Y/N was preparing for bed, humming a tune under her breath when the door to her bedroom swung open.

It’s Zuko, standing in his sleeping robe, hair cascading freely down his shoulder. It’s getting quite long and she really likes how it looks on him, by Tui how is it even possible for someone to be that effortlessly good looking.

“Hello there, my soon-to-be husband. What brought you here?”

Zuko stood for a while, just leaning against the door, watching her. Wondering to himself how did he ever get soo lucky?

He took a few strides in and sat on the edge of her bed. “Uncle has taught you the complete procession of a traditional Fire Nation wedding, right?” He asked.

“Only about three times on every single day, him and Ty Lee both” She said, rolling her eyes. Even Zuko let out an amused snort. “What about it?”

“The tea ceremony... it’s been weighing on my mind a lot lately, more and more as our wedding draw closer”

Y/N’s expression turned into one of understanding as she knows for sure it’s not pity that he needs. The tea ceremony comes after the exchanging of vows, the both of them are supposed to serve tea to their elders, meaning their grandparents and parents. But Zuko only has Iroh, of course there is Ozai but it’s not exactly ideal isn’t it?

She moved towards where he’s currently sitting and let his head rest on her shoulder, fingers moving up to tangle itself between his silky locks.

“What do you want to do about it, Zuko?” She asked him softly.

“I know I owe him nothing... my father I mean. But it’s just that I’d like him to know that his son is getting married, not that I think that he would care. I was never his favorite child”

“Hey look at me” Y/N glides her fingers to cup his chin, moving it upwards so they see eye-to-eye. “There’s nothing wrong about what you’re feeling. I know that Ozai is a bad person and there’s nothing we could do about it, but he’s still your father”

“Yeah... I just feel so... helpless and pathetic. All he ever did was shun my existence and treat me like trash, but here I am still wanting to keep him on the loop as if it would matter” His eyes are closed, face contorting into one of pain. Y/N can’t even imagine the depth of his inner struggle when it comes to his family. She even felt bad because family is everything to her, and she’s lucky to be blessed with a great one.

“Look... the decision is all yours. If you decide to face him one more time then i’ll support you no matter what, get yourself the closure that you need, Zuko.... and find peace”

“Y/N?” He called for her, there’s a change in the tone of his voice, no longer somber.

“Yes, love?”

“You’re starting to sound more and more like Uncle Iroh these days, I think you’re spending too much time around him”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She asked, scrunching her eyebrows together, slightly confused.

“Meh...” Zuko said, shrugging his shoulder. “ —I haven’t decided yet”

———————————————————————

After his defeat and stripped of his firebending abilities, Ozai was sentenced to a life in prison for several war crimes. The Capital City Prison where Iroh was once held captive, is now his new home. To spend the rest of his life behind bars and cold stone walls, with the ghost of his failure as the only companion.

But perhaps today fate and Agni decided to humor him as the door that leads to his cell swung open, revealing none other than the face of his son, the new Fire Lord.

Ozai hands involuntarily clenched at his side, face pulled into a sneer at the unexpected visitor. He watched as Zuko closed the door behind him, his other hand balancing a tray of teapot and 2 small cups.

“I was not aware that tea is a specialty of this particular prison” Although what Ozai said could passed as a banter, his cold tone indicates anything but that.

Zuko took his sweet time sitting down, folding his legs crossed style and placing the tray in front of him slowly. Keeping his nerves intact and delaying the inevitable as long as he can.

“It’s jasmine... care for some?” He finally spoke, looking straight back at Ozai’s amber eyes for the first time since he entered the room.

Their fondness for jasmine tea is the only thing that Zuko can confidently said shared between the two of them. Even the first time that he tried this kind of tea when he was little, was from the leftover of his father’s unfinished drink. He was curious and the tea was still hot anyway, so he took a sip. The deliciousness of the brew tickled his taste bud. That’s how he developed his love for jasmine tea until today.

Although Ozai made no answer nor any indication, Zuko still poured the hot liquid into one of the cups and slide it beneath the bars. The calming scent of jasmine filling the air, ridding it of the usual dampen smell.

He poured another cup for himself, all the while sparing one or two glances his father’s way. Watching the calculation that he could see clearly behind his eyes, although he’s never good at reading him, Zuko can definitely tell that right now he is bemused.

His hand toyed around with the cup, drumming his fingers on it. One two seconds later he finally grasped it and bring the cup under his nose, eyes closed, inhaling the scent deeply as he swirl the liquid around counter clockwise.

After he took one long sip, Ozai turned his attention to Zuko. Taking in his appearance, from the Fire Lord headpiece to the flowing ornate robe.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of being graced by His Highness’s company?”

The stony look plastered on his face combine with his disdainful voice nearly made Zuko freeze on spot, it certainly brings back a lot of bad memories.

“I’m getting married” He said, keeping his voice as even as possible, showing no sign of emotions, just as how he taught him.

But that statement piqued Ozai’s interest as he raised one of his eyebrows. “Indeed?”

“My betrothed... she’s Northern Water Tribe” He continued, trying to gauge out a reaction. It surprised him that his father still manages to keep his restraint.

“How....” Ozai stopped mid sentence, cocking his head to the side, eyes looking upward as if thinking hard. “—Intriguing” He finally said, finding the fitting word that he’s looking for.

“Intriguing? that’s it?” Zuko asked, now he’s surely the more confused one out of the two.

“Well at least she’s not Southern, what else do you expect me to say, Zuko?” Ozai retorted back, he is clearly enjoying this confrontation. “I don’t think any of your actions would astound me ever again, ever since you turned your back on me and chose to support the Avatar, I know better”

Zuko let out an aggravated yell, “I don’t know why I even bother”

Ozai had the nerve to laugh, “Believe me, son. I thought the same thing, if you think keeping me here is going to change anything well you misread it all, I raised you better than that. That is stupid even for you”

Zuko stood up quickly, tossing one last look at his father, “Bold of you to say you raised me when you were never there”

He turned around and reach for the door handle, turning it open.

“Goodbye, father”

Then he closed the door after him, along with a chapter of his life.

———————————————————————

Y/N is bringing her parents along to take a stroll through the palace. Showing them all the nooks and crannies that she herself has gotten familiar to. They had visited the gardens earlier and now is in the Royal Gallery, a hallway that displays large hanging portraits of previous Fire Lords.

“They executed the menacing look excellently, that’s for certain” Tulok said, head tilting upwards, eyeing the portrait of Fire Lord Sozin. He looked both amazed and terrified at the same time. Her father is quite the art enthusiast after all.

“I believe that’s exactly what they aimed for, dear. To strike terror into whoever is looking, fear is power to them” Yuka replied as she too stand in-between the portrait of Azulon and Ozai, admiring the details.

Meanwhile Y/N chose to stand a few feet back from them as she already had her fair share of looking at every single portrait there. But then Yuka turned around and direct her attention to her daughter, “Does Zuko not want a portrait of himself? I see that it stopped at Fire Lord Ozai” She asked curiosly.

“I don’t think so, mother. He said the style of the portraits doesn’t suit him, he doesn’t want people to view him like his predecessors”

“I see, that’s a relief” Her mother look satisfied with the answer, even letting out a smile. But her father doesn’t look appeased.

“Sweetheart?” Tulok said as he slowly approached her, taking the both of her hands in his. Her mother follow suit by placing one of her hands on her husband’s shoulder.

“Are you happy here? now don’t get me wrong, I know you are a smart woman and you’ll make all the right choices but as a parents we can’t help but worry anyway” Her father started out, her mother hummed in agreement, nodding her head. “Especially because your marriage is such a unique case, of course there are lots of people who have done this before you, marrying someone from other nation. But sweetheart, you are marrying the leader of a nation, your burden is way bigger than them”

Y/N gave her parents a reassuring smile and she placed her palm on top of her father’s hand. “I know you’re worried, but please father and mother, there is absolutely nothing for you to worry about”

“I am happy here, truly. And Zuko... he’s everything to me, I love him to the ends of this world. I always dreamt that one day I will find someone who will love me the way that you love mother, and I believe that I have” She said earnestly. Her words brought some sort of comfort to her parents.

“If you are happy, then that’s all that matter to us, sweetheart” Yuka said, giving a kiss to the crown of her head.

Y/N hugged both of her parents tightly, “Thank you... for everything”

And the three of them stayed inside the embrace, letting faith run its course.

———————————————————————

1 day before the wedding....

Y/N and Zuko sat side by side in the Royal Spa, with Tulok, Yuka, and Uncle Iroh as audience. A handmaiden stood behind them, holding a tray with 2 scissors and a red pouch on top of it. They are about to do one of the sacred traditions for bride and groom before their wedding takes place.

The handmaiden passed out the scissors to each of them and thus the ceremony begins. Y/N hold a lock of her hair and cut some of it off. Zuko doing the same thing beside her. Uncle Iroh then stepped forward and took both locks of hair and tied it together in a knot. The handmaiden present the pouch to him and he put it inside carefully before sealing it tight. The tying of knot signifies the bride and groom becoming one in flesh and blood to live happily ever after, or so they believed.

In no time at all, the ceremony is done and Uncle Iroh congratulated the both of them. Tulok then approached Zuko and said “May I have a moment?” to which Zuko nodded.

Both men then stepped out to the hallway outside to have some privacy.

“I know you are the Fire Lord and all but if you hurt my daughter in any way, I won’t hesitate to hunt you down myself” Tulok said, damn Zuko is even more scared now than he was at his first Agni Kai.

Zuko gulped and gave him a firm nod, “Understood, sir. I wouldn’t have it any other way and I promise you that that’s the farthest thing from my mind”

“I love your daughter with all my heart, by Agni I would die for her if I must”

Tulok’s cold manner melted, replaced with a knowing smile, “I know you do, I can see it in your eyes”

“Thank you for making her happy, Zuko” He said as he suddenly pulled Zuko into a hug.

A stunned Zuko hugged him back awkwardly, clearly taken by surprise but he accept it anyway. “Oh and Zuko?” Tulok said again, making him straightened his posture back so that he can look at him better.

“You can call me father... if you want to that is”

Zuko is overcome with bliss, not only did he earned Tulok’s blessing but now he is openly accepting him in the family. A wide grin made its way to his face, making him appeared like his younger self but less burdened.

“Father....” Zuko said, testing the word out to which Tulok gave him an encouraging nod.

“Father works for me” He said lastly, as both men gave each other a pat in the back before they walked back inside the spa.

———————————————————————

The Wedding....

Y/N took in a deep breath, admiring her surroundings as she stood in front of her now husband after exchanging their vows. Smiling at him brightly as she can’t contain her happiness that this day has finally come. Although wedding is usually presided over by a Fire Sage, Zuko and Y/N decided to have Aang to stand in instead. Which is the right decision since he made it a lot more fun and enjoyable. He might have even tripped over the words at some point, he’s not even the one getting married but his excitement is sky-rocketting.

The wedding ceremony is held in the Throne Room that has been transformed completely it’s even hard to recognize at first. Large-scale decoration in the form of red lampions and lanterns of flowers decorated every inch of the walls. The invitees cheered loudly as they sealed the vow with a kiss. Zuko even vaguely heard Sokka’s voice shouting “OoOhH get it, buddy!!!” over the crowd.

They decided to keep the kiss short but sweet to save some for later, when they’re finally away from prying eyes (and Sokka’s inappropriate comments). Zuko and Y/N moved to do the next procession which is Baitang. Firstly they bow to worship the heaven and the earth. The second they bow to Tulok, Yuka, and Iroh as a respect to their elders. For the last bow, Zuko and Y/N stood face to face and bow to each other as a respect to one another as husband and wife.

The last item that they must do is the tea ceremony. The very thing that Zuko was stressing over sometime ago, but now he feels nothing but relief. He had done his duty as a son by serving tea to Ozai, although it’s under a rather unconventional situation and doesn’t turned out the way he wants it to. But at least he had tried and that’s what counts most.

Zuko and Y/N both knelt in front of Tulok, Iroh and Yuka, as a handmaiden passed a boiling teapot to them. This time it contains ginseng tea, Iroh’s favorite, as per Zuko’s request. Zuko took delight in the way his uncle’s eyes lights up as he recognized the scent and throw a big smile his way. The both of them then poured the liquid carefully into separate cups and served it. The sound of striked gong reverberated around the room, signaling the end of the wedding ceremony. And Y/N and Zuko rise together, now officially the Fire Lord and Fire Lady of the Fire Nation.

Y/N watched as performers started to crowd the makeshift dance floor, Fire Nation performers stood to the right and Water Tribe performers to the left. With the steady beat of drum accompanying them, they started to perform both fire and waterbending. Awed gasps can be heard all over as all eyes are on the elegant harmony that the performers have successfully created out of the two opposing elements.

Y/N and Zuko sees it as a promise of what’s to come, of what the both of them can achieve despite their differences. They are fire and water and they are made for one another.

———————————————————————

A/N : Whew that’s definitely a long one! Personally I love this so much I think this may be my best piece yet but I would love to hear what you think about it 😄☺️ As always, feedbacks are appreciated and hoped for!! thank you for reading 💙❤️

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