#my beautiful wife whom I would do anything for…….. my everything…….

[lqveharrington]

Winter Gala | C.S.

summary: Coriolanus’ first winter gala as Panem’s President and your first winter gala as First Lady.

pairing: young, president!coriolanus snow x fem, first lady!reader

includes: literally just fluff and kissing. (and some hints to reader being pregnant.)

a/n: some winter love for my favorite (aka coryo bb)

“Don’t you look gorgeous, my First Lady.” Coriolanus wraps his arms around your waist as you clip your earrings on, smiling at him through the mirror.

“You look pretty handsome yourself, Mr. President.” You turn in his arms and lace your own behind his neck, eyes flickering around his face. “First winter gala as the President, Coryo. That’s exciting.”

He lowers his arms down to your hips, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Let’s give them a night to remember.”

You let one hand drift to his lips, wiping some of the lipstick off. “Perfect.”

Truly, everything in the Snow Manor was perfect. The help decorated the walls and halls with the lights you deemed the best, and the cooks made the most delicious foods for those to come eat. There were christmas trees present in almost every room, with waiters holding champagne glasses on silver platers. Coriolanus and yourself made sure everything was perfect for the first winter gala as President of Panem.

All of those who held status in the Capitol were invited, along with the past district mentors whom you both attended classes with. There was press inside and unwanted paparazzi outside, immediately becoming the talk of those who arrived to the manor.

As the Snow manor filled with distinguished guests, you were hooked around Coriolanus’ arm like a beautiful trophy, conversing with only those you wanted to.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Livia.” You give her your best smile, removing yourself from your husband to give her a brief hug. “I’m sure Festus has been a pain, as usual.”

“Don’t say that.” She quietly laughed, giving her own husband a glance before looking at the manor in awe and grabbing two champagne glasses of a server’s plate. “Here.”

“Oh no, thank you.” You decline politely, folding your hands together.

“Suit yourself.” She placed one back onto another plater. “The place looks wonderful. The lighting is everything.”

“Thank you. I do love a—“

“Excuse me, ladies, but could I borrow my wife for a bit? It’s time for my speech.” Coriolanus cut in, sneaking an arm around your waist.

Livia nodded, gesturing toward you. “Of course.”

You give her one last smile before following Coriolanus. Sure, you wanted to converse with old classmates, but as the most popular couple in Panem, you had other duties to tend to.

“See Tigris yet?” You murmur in his direction as you ascend the stairs, Coriolanus’ hand placed on the small of your back.

He shook his head, “She didn’t show. She called and said she was busy with work.”

“That’s too bad. I was hoping to speak to her about an important matter.” You frown and mumble the last bit, your ringed hand lightly moving to your stomach. “Anyway, you must mention how you were delighted to see everyone come here today.”

“Of course, I will. You think I don’t remember that, beautiful?” He kissed your cheek as you reached the balcony looking over the foyer. “Ready?”

“Always.” You lace hands with him.

Coriolanus instructed someone to shut the main lights off and flash the spot light on you both, earning awed noises from the crowd below.

“Thank you all for coming to our first winter gala!” Coriolanus started and got applause from those in the audience.

He went on to thanking everyone who came and spoke about his time as President, calling out those who helped him win the election.

“And of course, I would not have done this all with my lovely wife. Give it up for her, yeah?” He spoke, your name flawlessly living his lips. You flush from the praise but wave to the people below, squeezing Coriolanus’ hand.

“Want to say anything?” He murmured as the applause quieted. You shook your head, resting your hand on your stomach again.

Coriolanus kissed your cheek once more before wrapping up his speech, raising his glass as a final gesture. Everyone else followed suit, your own glass of water being lifted.

“Wonderful speech, my love.” You show your pearly whites as he whisked you away to a hallway.

“That’s because you wrote it, darling.” He met your lips, feeling your grin widen in the kiss.

You let one hand rest on his chest while the other comes around to his neck, Coriolanus’ hands firm on your waist.

“I love you.” You mumble in between kisses, holding your urge to not slide your fingers through his slicked back hair.

He squeezes your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. “I love you more.”

read more about coriolanus here !!

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[rise-my-angel]

More headcannons about the Starks being doms!!! Pleaseeeee!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay starting off saying, all Stark men are doms, just in different ways. But let's start from the eldest down.

Brandon Stark:

Easily a hard dom. He was short tempered and described as very distinctly as having "wolfs blood". He loved fighting and always kept his sword sharp and with him. I have a distinct theory that he was a power bottom, preferring women on top of him but without actually giving them that control. Probably didn't talk a lot, and when he did was just purposely filthy. He also definitly liked to take things rough, considering Barbrey Dustin says this about him.

"I still remember the look of my maiden’s blood on his cock the night he claimed me. I think Brandon liked the sight as well. A bloody sword is a beautiful thing."

That is some hard dom behavior right there.

Eddard Stark:

If there was a Stark who was closest to a switch then the others, it would be Ned. But I think that is more because Ned is just rather vanilla in comparison. There is zero reason to believe Catelyn likes being in charge in the bedroom, but I also think Ned is far more of a soft dom. Not very talkative, probably more intimate, and he doesn't push Catelyns limits. But he does in fact, go hard.

The man gave her five children, and Catelyn literally implies in the first book that Ned fucked her so hard she was in that afterglow pain only a man who goes rough can give.

"Her loins still ached from the urgency of his lovemaking. It was a good ache."

Submissive men do not fuck so urgently they leave their wife laying in bed sore as fuck from getting pounded. Ned is probably the least kinky of the present Starks, but certainly still a soft dom.

Benjen Stark:

We see he has a very dominant personality, how easily he takes control of a conversation and establishes himself as someone to be listened too, but considering he clearly joined the Nights Watch at an early age, it's safe to say Benjen grew up a man whom was just not involved in sexual encounters.

If he did fuck, he'd likely be more of a soft dom with a side that likes to tease and be playful, but I assume he's either never or had very little sexual encounters to say for sure what he'd be like as one. But in his everyday personality, he certainly commands authority when necessary which is proof of dominance enough for me.

Robb Stark:

If there is the biggest example of a hard dom, it's Robb. This man takes you like a goddamn wolf. Flipping you onto your hands and knees, shoving you further into the furs of his bed, going fast enough you can't catch your breathe and rough enough that you feel him well into the next day. He will yank you up to his chest and purposely mutter depraved shit in your ear, mock you for your pleasure knowing it works you up more when he does it. Calling you derogatory sexual terms in bed to keep you in that subspace (he doesnt say them to hurt your feelings you know its all part of a kind of rougher roleplay essentially).

We've seen him take command in every situation. He knows how to seize control of a conversation even with opponents as difficult as Jaime Lannister. He doesn't falter, knowing he has everything in his favour and is sure of himself. Putting men twice his size like Greatjon Umber in his place but still managing to secure his upmost dedicated loyalty at the same time.

Robb probably the most forgets to be romantic in bed, but he makes up for it any other time. It's just in bed, when Robb is fucking you, he is rough and mean. You both know its with love and you both like it, but he is a true hard dom.

Jon Snow:

If his brother is the definition of a hard dom, Jon is the definition of a soft dom. Jon is incapable of being mean to you, truly being mean. He'll never whisper filth for the sake of it, never try to mock or embarrass you, will never use anything close to something derogatory towards you in what he calls you. Jon is passionate, raw, and very intimate about sex with you, and he needs a lot of both skin to skin contact and he needs to be able to kiss you as much as he wants.

But, he is also very controlling. More then he realizes. Jon is unpredictable in bed, because what he wants varies wildly. Sometimes he takes you slowly, but goes for hours to the point he is still inside you as you pass out, which he keeps going. Sometimes, he is rougher then he even realizes. Jon leaves bruises all the time from how tightly his hands grab at you alone, and he goes rough to the point sometimes you almost are pushed too far, but Jon somehow always ends up making you crave it.

You basically will never choose how the night goes. Jon always controls you in bed, and you let him. It works him up to an endless degree that you so completely trust him with you to the point he basically owns your autonomy in bed. He can convince you to do anything knowing you'd let him, and he won't give you what you want because he knows your needs and limits better then you do.

Jon is soft and loving with you in bed, but he is a dom through and through. Jon alone is the one in total control in the bedroom and he will always keep it that way.

[iluvyvonne]

me..? Oh nothing.. just thinking about a fluffy dutch/german farmer x earthyblack!reader headcanons(?). 18+, mdni

• Mr. teddy bear who would get his beautiful wife anything she yearned for. Doesn't matter if it's new crystals, new clothes, even another cattle if she asked.

• Mr. teddy bear who loves his farm animals almost as much as his gorgeous Gattin.

• Mr. teddy bear who would break an arm and a leg just to please his delicious woman, cumming in his overalls as he thunk about it whilst gathering the goats.

• Mr. Teddy bear who... shii.. just mr teddy bear 😭.

• Mr. Teddy bear who approached first, offering a warm scented perfume to her, whom he thought smelled awfully like cocoa butter and incense.

• Mr. Teddy bear who would lasso the planets if !reader asked.

• Mr. Teddy bear welcoming !reader home as he finished cooking up a warm meal, awaiting her arrival.

• Mr. Teddy bear who enjoys pleasuring his woman more than himself, grinding against the cool colored sheets of their shared bed as she cradled the back of his head, arching as she brought him closer.

• Mr. teddy bear who tries his best to do everything that his precious vrouw brings up. You mentioned something about your craving for chocolate covered strawberries whilst menstruating, and when you were gone out to feed the pigs n' chickens, picking up their eggs, he had searched and searched for instructions or even a recipe to make the chocolate covered fruit for you quickly.

• Mr. Teddy bear who was surprised he'd be your first, hearing you whimper and moan under him was a surprise aswell! I guess he didn't know you'd adjust as fast as you two started.

• Mr. Teddy bear who tried the best to take care of everything around him. Feeding the animals, taking care of you inside of the bedroom and out..

Dictionary: "Gattin"

German for mate [noun] a husband or wife (preferably wife here).

"vrouw"

Dutch for a woman; wife; or lady.

honestly, imagine who you want. If you do just ignore the description of "Mr teddy bear" at the top 😭 (hes just my personal description of my OC). Tell me if you guys would want more if you see this!!! luv yuuuuu so muches!! 💋 (Give ideas or I'll bite you).

[thehauntedetheral]

That, “After all I am just a girl 🎀”, sent me! LOL! It’s such a fat fucking mood I have 24/7

So follow up request, how about a Hyper/Extreme Masculine Man x Hyper/Extreme Feminine Woman Reader

Give me someone who is wholesomely sexist that is so damn fine that the red flags start to look green

Hello! Thank you for your love. Glad that you liked my work. I hope you like my writing. This is my first time writing something like this so please be kind. I hope you love this. Enjoy!

Yandere Sexist X Reader

Requests are open!

• You and yan dated throughout the college and after graduation he proposed you. You were madly, irrevocably and passionately in love with him.

• Yan Husband who is a toxic sexist who is a excellent manipulator. He tells you after marriage how his parents were a traditional gender role household meaning husband being the bread winner and leader of house while wife being a good pretty house wife. He wants to try it. You were reluctant at first but after enough manipulation and sugar coating you agreed. After all this man is an excellent manipulator.

"Baby please just try it for me. If you don't feel good after doing this for a month we will stop it. You had been working so hard throughout the college. You can relax a bit by this and can also take a break and get the time to do all those hobbies and stuff you were interested in doing but couldn't due to college work. We have just got married why so eager for a job? Settle down have some rest. I have a very good paying job to provide for both baby. Please try this for me love?" He would say while holding your face delicately in his hand and looking at you with his gorgeous hazel eyes.

• You slowly started to delve into it. Baking, cooking meals, taking care of him and house and decorating, doing household chores, gardening vegetables, beautiful flowers and loving it.

• He was slowly brainwashing you into his little pretty house wife without you knowing.

"Baby you don't have to think about anything I will take care of everything. Hmm? You know I love you and will take care of you."

• You were a definition of hyper feminine now. Long forgotten your old ambitious about your career self in college.

• Pretty Ribbons in your long hairs, delicate cute dresses, High heels, make up on, hosting parties for his colleagues, shopping, baking, reading, trying new recipes, doing house chores while waiting for your husband to come home were now part of your daily routine.

• Yan and you you would go out for dinners and if somebody looked at you a little long he would break their bones. After all you were his wife and wouldn't allow a weird creep to stare at you.

• He was the provider and you were his pink pretty princess housewife whom he loves to dead.

• Will shower you with gifts like vacations, jewellery, dresses.

• Yan Husband who is dominant in your married life and in bed.

• Yan Husband who is a toxic manipulator sexist who will make you totally dependent on you to make sure you don't run away from him ever.

"You need me baby as much as I need you. I am your husband I know what is best for us."

"You contribute to the household by taking care of me so good which helps me to do my job properly and soon you will be the mother of our beautiful children, darling."

• Looking at his handsome face with beautiful eyes oozing masculine energy always made you forget everything.

• You know your husband is always right and will take care of you.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[fan-fantasies]

Do You Jest?

A/N: surprise!! I’ve been feeling really down lately so I figured maybe writing might help. This kinda sucks and sounded better in my head but oh well. Enjoy!

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader

Warnings: Aegon being a shit, salacious language, making out and mild breeding kink if you squint, heavy use of wife and husband

Summary: you’ve known the royal family for most of your life, but never would you have guessed Aemond’s reaction to your own betrothal.

Part Two

“You’re drooling again, brother,” Aegon chuckled. Aemond shot him a dirty look before turning his attention back to you.

“Don’t you have some handmaid to go fondle?” The prince scoffed.

“Maybe later. I’d much rather join you in ogling our lady.”

“She most certainly is not your lady and I was not ogling!”

Aemond was becoming more annoyed with his older brother by the minute. He couldn’t help it if his eye was drawn to you- your brilliant dress dazzling under candlelight as you stood on the edge of the dance floor.

A few suitors had asked for a dance but you declined each one, feigning an upset stomach preventing you from twirling about.

“You know her betrothal is being announced in a few days,” Aegon whispered. Aemond’s eye widened at his brother’s words.

“To whom is she betrothed?”

“How should I know?” Aegon scoffed. “Some fortunate bastard that will be between her thighs night after night-“

Aemond grabbed Aegon by his collar and pulled him closer.

“Do not speak of her that way ever again,” he growled. Aegon grinned at him before pulling his hand from his shirt.

The elder brother got up from the table and made his way over to you as Aemond watched in panic. He could see Aegon whispering something to you and your eyes flicker over to where he was seated. You nodded and said something back before heading in his direction.

Aemond thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

He had known you since you were both children, your family being close acquaintances with his own. You wouldn’t say you were friends- Aemond always being too shy to approach you, but he had watched from afar as you grew into an amazing young woman.

He often found himself having sinful thoughts about you, unable to focus on anything else when you were around.

You were everything he wished for in a woman; kind, intelligent, beautiful, and gentle. You cared for his family as if they were your own and he was eternally grateful for that. Others often found it easy to judge them, but you never did.

He had secretly hoped that his mother might betroth you to him at some point but when Aegon told him your betrothal was to be announced, all hopes of that disappeared.

“My prince, I was told you wished to speak to me?” You asked, appearing in front of him. He could see Aegon snickering behind you.

“No, I didn’t want to speak with you,” he said without thinking, his tone harsher than he intended.

“Oh…I’m sorry for bothering you then,” your eyes dropped to the floor and Aemond felt horrible. He didn’t mean to come across so rude; this is why he kept his distance from you. He would get so nervous that he always said the wrong thing.

“No! I mean, I didn’t request to speak with you but I should like to- speak with you, that is. You are never a bother, lady,” he rushed out.

“It’s quite alright, Prince Aemond. I see now that Aegon was jesting with me. Please, excuse me,” you mumbled before rushing off. He watched as you left the great hall completely and he wished nothing more than to follow you. But first, he needed to do something about Aegon.

Before he could leave the table, his mother called his name.

“Aemond, there is something I wish to speak to you about,” Alicent said softly.

“I’m not in the mood, mother,” he sighed. He looked around for Aegon, but found him nowhere.

“It is quite important.”

“Tomorrow, then. We shall break fast together and we can discuss it,” he said before bowing and excusing himself. His mother sighed as she watched her son stalk from the party.

Aemond wandered the halls until he stopped in his tracks. He saw a figure on the balcony facing away from him but he easily recognized your dress. He wasn’t sure if he should approach you or not, but he wanted to make up for earlier.

“My lady, please excuse this disturbance,” he said, slowly coming up behind you.

You didn’t turn to face him or even acknowledge he was there.

“I would like to apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“T’is Aegon who has offended me, my prince. For jesting that you wished to speak to me, for getting my hopes up,” you said quietly.

“I shall deal with him once I can find him, I promise you,” Aemond nearly snarled. He hates that Aegon has upset you, but even more so that he somehow contributed to it.

“Please don’t, I do hate it when you two fight,” you sighed.

“As you wish, lady. Just know you needn’t an excuse to come speak to me. It is never a bother to be in your presence.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, my prince,” you bowed slightly and Aemond’s heart sank a little.

“Please, just call me Aemond,” he begged. “Should you not find that too inappropriate. We’ve known each other so long, I hardly think titles are necessary.”

“Titles are everything these days,” you sighed. Aemond had a feeling he knew what you were talking about and his breath caught in his throat.

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard the news. I do wish you every happiness,” he said through gritted teeth. You finally turned to look at him.

“You do?”

“Of course. That is the least you deserve.”

“And what is it that you think I deserve?” You asked. Aemond was hesitant to answer. He didn’t want to reveal his true feeling, both for you and about your betrothal.

“You deserve kindness, loyalty, and honesty. You deserve someone who loves you and only you. Someone handsome and brave,” he trailed off while looking at his hands entwined before him.

“I’ve often found you to be all of those things,” you told him. His eye shot up to your face, only to find you looking at him curiously.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Are you, too, jesting with me, my prince?” You asked, becoming irritated.

“I would never, sweet girl. I just don’t know why you’d grace me with such kind words.”

“Should I not be kind to my husband to be? I do not wish for a stale, loveless marriage. So if that is where we are headed please just tell me now,” you pleaded. Aemond found no hint of deceit in your face and he allowed himself for a moment to feel a sliver of hope.

“My lady, who are you betrothed to?”

“You really don’t know?” You asked.

“I need to hear you say it,” he whispered.

“Aemond, we are to be married,” you said, reaching out to touch his hands. You hesitated slightly but before you could pull back he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him.

“We are to be married?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes, my prince,” you finally smiled at him and he swore he had never been graced with the sight of anything more beautiful.

“Not your prince, your husband,” he said before crashing his lips to yours. You were stunned to say the least, not knowing Aemond harbored such feelings for you.

He held your body flush to his and the rest of the world melted away as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled away but you chased him, reconnecting your lips once again. He chuckled and indulged you once more before breaking the kiss.

“How inappropriate of you, my sweet wife,” he smirked.

“You started it!” You gasped playfully. “You know, I feared that you were disappointed when you heard of our betrothal. When Aegon told me you wished to speak to me I hoped for a moment that maybe you were okay with it. But then you dismissed the idea of speaking to me so easily I knew the idea of marrying me would only repulse you more- but now I’m not so sure.”

“I swear to you I didn’t know. I believe my mother wished to tell me at the banquet but after Aegon’s little joke and how I feared I wounded you, I wouldn’t hear her. Aegon knows how I feel for you and he knows how nervous I am around you which he used to his advantage.”

“You have no need to be nervous around me, it is I who has always been nervous around you. You’re so handsome and intimidating, I feared gaining your affection to be nearly impossible,” you sighed.

“Fear no more, wife. My affections have always been yours and they will always be yours alone.”

“You keep calling me ‘wife’ yet I am only just barely your betrothed,” you chuckled. His gaze darkened and he leaned in to kiss you again.

“The title matters not to me; I am yours and you are mine,” he promised before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

His hands grasped at your ass beneath your gown and your legs grew weak.

“Aemond…” you whimpered.

“Keep that up and I won’t be able to wait until our wedding night to fuck my seed into you,” he growled in your ear.

“Do not tease me, husband,” you whined.

“That’s what you think teasing is, little wife?” He chuckled. “You have no idea what lies ahead then.”

Part Two

[fanaticsnail]

Chapter 8

Masterlist Here, Moodboard Here

Sapsorrow Masterlist

Word Count: 10,700+

"Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it" Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope.

Starlight

(Image Source: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/462322717990096069/)

Tag List: @maybe-a-bi-witch @fuzzyfestcat @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @be-good-please @little-bunnybabe @sukilovesyou @acehyacinth @andriannag @one17 @canthebest1 @khaleesihavilliard @hungrhay @sentieence @lebanese-afg-ya @captaincupio @szired @sexc-snail @alphaash99 @mfreedomstuff @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrs-wolfwood @jaguarthecat @marsbars09 @vespidphoenix @cinnbar-bun

Notes: Thank you to @i-am-vita for her banner! Oh, boy. This is a big chapter. Next chapter will be MDNI, 18+. Thank you for your patience with me working at this. Two more chapters to go!

Song Suggestions: Young and Beautiful - Je suis Parte & Por Una Cabeza - Carlos Gardel

The ship swayed over the cloudy swell of darkened waves, shepherding the vessel away from the Kuraigana port and to a location your captain deemed appropriate for a newlywed bride to be hidden away from her husband. 

Captain Buggy D Clown was not one to shy away from anything, especially not when something as interesting as causing drama and theatrics at the expense of Lord Dracule Mihawk was present. He was eager to present this challenge, whether you or Mihawk were also eager was a completely different tale entirely. 

Within the Captain’s quarters aboard the Big-Top, you struggled with the back of your dress: uncinching the rigging your ward managed to tie for you to keep your body contained within its material. A huffed and agitated smile awoke on your face, picturing this struggle in comparison to the one to come after your starlight ensemble. If the moon was as difficult to rid from your body, you could not imagine how taxing the sun would be over your skin and concealing you from your husband.

Husband. You have a husband now. A husband that would be more than agitated to know you were now out to open seas and venturing to unknown horizons, away from the celebration he carefully curated for you. 

“-Everything alright in here, Starlight?” the nasally crack of Buggy’s voice cut through the wooden door, “‘Ya need help?” You chuckled darkly, attempting to pry the material from you to no avail. 

“Actually, Captain,” your voice held a frantic wave within its tone, “I think I do. The back is snagged, and I can’t get the damn thing off of me.” The door slowly creaked open, after a gentle rap alerted you he was to do so. You turned yourself away to conceal your exasperation from him, the stutter in your hands giving away your agitation as you continued to fumble over the ribbons at the rear of your dress.

“Do you trust me, Doll?” you heard his voice alarmingly close to your body, enough to cause a hitch in your throat. You glanced over your shoulder, witnessing Buggy’s teal eyes glancing up through his eyelashes and lips parting in concern. 

“Considering you have robbed me of my wedding night with my beau,” your warning tone cut through the air as swift as a guillotine, “Spirited me away from the unity celebrations, and-,” you huffed, turning back around and glaring out of the bay window, “Confined me to spend this time alone and isolated from all those I hold most dear: I hardly deem you worthy of my trust presently, Captain.” 

Buggy’s gasp was melodical and pitched up two octaves higher than his usual cadence. You could feel the waves of anxiety rising within his shoulders and expressed through several strangled breaths. 

“I-I’m sorry, Lady Dracule. I didn’t think of it from your perspective and how my actions would-.” Whatever else Captain Buggy D Clown spoke after the first four words meant very little to you. Your mind looped them repetitively, the call and roll of the words felt both surreal and magical, you could hardly think about anything else. 

“-Would’ve rather stayed on shore, it would be less flashy and make the chase all the less desperate. We could turn back if-,” Buggy’s words halted as he glanced back into your eyes, noticing the distant expression with a melancholy sorrow eclipsing your painted features. “...-Are you alright, my Lady Dracule?” he asked you.

“Lady Dracule,” you repeated, your brows forming a pillar at the center of your forehead and causing a small swell to mist your eyes, “I’m Lady Dracule, now.” Buggy took a moment to glance over your features, noticing this shift of emotion permeating through your stance. 

Apprehensively, he reached his hand forward and gently caressed your shoulder. The gentle squeeze broke you out of your circulating mind, looking down and meeting the eyes of the cerulean-haired captain. 

“Can I help you out of this dress and into the assortment I crafted for you, my lady?” Buggy asked softly, watching as you nodded in affirmation for his fingers to set to work. 

“I’ll get this off in just a minute,” he whispered, his index fingers hooking through the loops in your back and slowly releasing the garment’s hold over your body, “And then we can think about your hair, and retouch your makeup. I’ll get Cabaji to bring us a bottle of the wine we swiped from the reception, too.” 

You allowed a soft giggle to fall from your parted lips, the relief from being rid of the tightness of your dress while knowing you were in capable hands. As Buggy’s fingers aided you in being free from your garment, while respectfully aiding you into the new dress, your mind wandered to your husband and what he was doing in this moment. Did he notice your departure, or was he enjoying your joint celebrations in solitude? 

-

“Where,” Mihawk’s yellow eyes glared accusingly around the guests through narrowed lenses, “Is,” he advanced, Yoru drawn with the pointed tip threatening the jugular of the Captain of the Red-Force, “My wife.” 

Lord Dracule Mihawk, distracted momentarily by his guests and acquaintances upon exiting the ceremony space, sought out your hand to claim within his. He blindly reached beside him, outstretching his desperate hands to shepherd you to his side, his fingers brushing nothing but air in its wake. 

He noticed your absence immediately.  

“Easy now, mate,” Shanks raised his arms, noticing several members of his crew withdrew their concealed weaponry and aimed it at the enraged former warlord, “Easy, easy. She’s safe, I swear this to you.” 

“Where is she?” Mihawk spat, his feet sliding into an assaulting stance, interweaving his body to draw closer to the red-head’s teasing face, “What have you done with her?” 

“She’s with Buggy- Oi, relax,” Mihawk’s pupils narrowed, his eyes wide and wild at the knowledge departing from Shanks’ lips, “She’s safe, it’s all a part of appeasing the tradition.” Shanks attempted to soothe over the growing temper Mihawk was steadily elevating, gesturing for his crew to holster their weaponry. 

“What tradition?” Mihawk barked, pressing the sharpened tip of Yoru deeper into Shanks’ neck, not quite puncturing the skin. 

“We just wanted it to be perfect, Hawk-Eyes,” Shanks’ hazelnut eyes bore with no utterance of mistruth within his orbs, “And you’re a native to Kuraigana, born and raised here. This is us following your traditions to the absolute letter: crossed ‘t’s and dotted ‘i’s, mate.” 

“Y-You’ve,” Mihawk stumbled over his words, darting his frantic eyes between Shanks’, “You’ve kidnapped my bride?” 

“You want the map to her, Lord Mihawk?” the rational voice of Shanks’ first mate rumbled through the tense air, “I had the clown make one up, for all our sakes.” Mihawk snapped his eyes away from Shanks’ to bear into the soul of Benn Beckman. As their eyes met, Beckman fished out the tanned envelope and offered it out gruffly towards the broody and aggravated newlywed groom. 

“And, are you all to just sit here and wait until I bring back my bride?” He barked at the Red-Hair crew, “Or are you coming to witness me suffer through this act of degrading humiliation?” Mihawk growled, eagerly searching through the crowd to see any contenders to refute his beckoning challenge. 

“You should take your wards,” Shanks suggested, weaving his body away from the steely tip of Yoru’s point, “Your two witnesses to view your wooing.”

Zoro leant down into Perona’s ear, his brow knit with puzzlement and concern. 

“I don’t follow, what is going on? Where’s our governess now?” Zoro quietly grunted into Perona’s ear, a giggle arising with her retort.

“Are you truly not following, or are you just saying that to be an imbecile?” Perona smirked, glancing up into Zoro’s serious eyes, “O-Oh, you’re serious? Okay!” Zoro patiently awaited his promised explanation, Perona thinking of the simplified version of this complex tradition to relay to him.

“In Kuraigana culture, the bride is either stolen or whisked away at a point in the evening - generally after the reception feast so the food doesn’t get cold. It looks like it’ll be a while yet before we get something to eat-,” Perona’s train of thought was broken with a growl from the green-haired apprentice.

“-Get on with it, Perona,” Zoro’s voice cut through the air gruffly, his eyes darting the surroundings for a clue of his governess’ whereabouts. 

“Oh, alright. Sorry, Zoro,” Perona giggled, shaking her head and preparing her words to present once again, “The bride is then hunted by the groom and they share a moment where he must perform a task or a demonstration of artistic skill to woo and entertain his new bride. Considering she is no longer under the shroud of her own family name, but a whole new person in this case: Lady Dracule, he must win her heart under this new banner and usher her into her new life with him.” 

“So, what? Is he gonna dance or something?” Zoro asked, puzzled and taken aback by the absurdity of the tradition, “Or is he gonna challenge her to a sword fight? What can he do that would woo her?” 

“Zoro-...” Perona again giggled, shaking her head with a warm smile drawing her cheeks up beneath its radiance, “...-Mihawk sings.” 

“Mihawk sings?” Zoro snapped his eyes over to Dracule Mihawk, watching as the lord of Kuraigana’s lips curled into a sinister snarl and brows furrowed deeper into rage. 

“Two witnesses, no more,” Mihawk growled, placing the mighty blade upon his back and rolling his neck, “And we shall return within the hour.” 

“Only if she’ll have you, mate,” Shanks’ grin playfully split his face, “You have to woo her. Humble yourself before her. This is your opportunity to actively pursue her,” the redhead stepped forward, clapping his right hand over Mihawk’s left shoulder. 

“You never got the chance. Use this time to show her how much you want her, and then,” Shanks’ grin turned sly, glancing at Beckman who shook his head and fished out a cigarette from his breast pocket, “That’s when we can show you how radiant she is, all wrapped in sunlight.”

Mihawk’s rumbled growl cut through the air, turning on his boot heels and gesturing to Perona and Zoro with his index finger, “You two, with me. Let us depart and reclaim my bride.” 

“Aye, sir,” Perona and Zoro spoke in unison, immediately springing into action and readying themselves for a short journey to find, woo and claim you with your title as Lady Dracule. 

Mihawk’s fuming rage catapulted him into a near frenzy, working with haste to unroll the sails and weigh anchor, using the tide to carry his small ship and snarling at the crudely crafted map.

“This better be accurate for your sake, clown,” Dracule Mihawk spat, scrunching the map and thrusting it into his shirt pocket with his left hand. Upon withdrawing his hand from his pocket, he hovered it above his face, staring at how delicately the band of unity was glimmering under the light of dusk.

It felt balanced, as if this broad band was awaiting the day he would finally wield it atop his finger. As if his life was waiting for this moment to start, for this new role and purpose for his life to fulfill. He hardened his resolve, throwing off his outer coat and withdrawing his sleeves to his elbows. He will find you, and find you quickly. 

And when he does, he will woo you. 

-

If the moon-dress was the prelude to a masterpiece in composition, this dress would be a symphony to stand the test of time. Material as pastel as the celestial rocks littering the night sky sporadically danced across the midnight material depicting the sky at nightfall. In the dim light within the cave Buggy had chaperoned you into, the dress almost looked as if it was producing its own light. 

“This is the most extravagant thing I have ever done with my life,” Buggy huffed a chuckle through his comment, “And that’s truly saying something, my lady. I’ve never done anything like this, and I’m almost jealous that I won’t be the one wearing it.”

“You’re more than welcome to borrow it for a performance, Captain,” you giggled, looking down at your arms that had been ornately decorated with chained droplets of beaded glass, “It is simply breathtaking.”

Glancing over at yourself in the reflective walls of the cave you had found yourself in, your hair was now softly falling in waterfalls against your back and your makeup retouched by the clown and his enthusiastic crew. You could hardly recognise the woman gazing back at you. 

“As breathtaking as you are, my lady,” Buggy whispered while adjusting your hair over your shoulders, “And hopefully enough to get me back into your good graces?” He shifted his eyebrow upwards, glancing hopefully over your shoulder with widened eyes and fluttering eyelashes. 

“You’re not out of the thick of it yet, dear captain,” you playfully taunted him, nose scrunched and smile growing, “It’s not only I you need to appease.” 

As if on queue, a small commotion was occurring outside the cave. Elevated voices, a shuffling of feet and the clang of harsh metal meeting rock reverberated within the cave mouth: silence following such an abrasive sound. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Buggy repeated hurriedly, excitement and anxiety dancing in a dangerous fight for dominion over his cadence, “You take a seat on your throne and look all pretty,” he gestured with his hands flailing outwards, “I’ll finish lighting the candles,and then I’m gonna flee as fast my legs can carry me to give you two some privacy.” 

You laughed at his excitement, turning and drawing up your heavy skirts to fan out atop the velvet-covered throne Buggy had placed down for you. Frantic clicks of flint and steel, a string of nasally curses, and a shifting of boot-heels tripping over themselves as Buggy set the final elements of his role in the ruse awaiting your spouse. 

“Okay, I’m gonna-... woah,” Buggy’s words halted as he turned to view you on your throne, sitting with the elegance and radiancy that you had drilled into your many students over your career as a governess.

“‘Woah’, what, Captain Buggy?” you huffed out a small laugh, watching his eyes shifting over each element of your ensemble. 

“Y-You know,” he stuttered, shifting his feet as if under the spell of hypnosis, “You’re not technically married if you haven’t consummated your union. You can always run away with me if you want to-.”

“Buggy,” you scolded him, your laughter now falling unwithheld from your lips, “For one: I am not cut out for a path of traveling piracy,” your smile continued to decorate your lips with its radiancy, “And two: I am in love with Dracule Mihawk, my husband.” That final confession shocked you, not admitting those words aloud to yourself or another before this very moment. 

“Right, right, of course,” he laughed at himself, studying his handiwork as your skirts pooled over your feet and down the slight elevation over the rocks. The voices within the mouth of the cave continued to draw ever nearer, the agitation and anger almost tangibly felt the closer they came. 

“This is where I take my leave, my lady,” he nervously chuckled, looking to the cave mouth with his lips split into a straight wincing line, “If I stay, the broody asshole will likely attempt to take my head and throw me into the sea.”

“In that case,” you smiled, bowing your head low to the clown, “This is where I thank you for the part you played in ensuring this day was a possibility.” Buggy gasped at your bow, taking a final moment to study you as you rose from your seated curtsey.

“You are so beautiful, my lady,” he whispered, bowing to you before turning on his heels and uttering a final sentence before picking up his sprint, “Congratulations on your successful ceremony. Save me a dance at your reception.”

Chuckling at his fleeing form, you were left in only a butterfly’s wing of solitude before three figures almost stampeded within the decorated hollow of the cave. Each of them halted, eyes wide and jaws slack as they took in their surroundings. 

The ground was littered with candelabras, all lengthy wicks lit. Lighting a pathway towards the throne, tealights scattered the floor beside a long stretch of the softest white carpet. Upon the edge of the carpet, the material of your skirts pooled and the unnatural light of several stones attached to the hem illuminated the floor. Dark material shifts into soft lights at each subtle movement from your body, the stones on your arms providing a small ringing melody as you offer them a small, coy wave.  

Perona’s smile rose on her cheeks, recovering the fastest of the three as she offered you a similar wave in return for your own. Zoro snapped his lips shut, smirking as he glanced between you and your beau who continued to be stupefied beneath this new radiant presentation. 

“I have found you,” Mihawk whispered after taking a small moment to recover, “My bride, my beloved.” You smiled wider, taking a moment to study your husband as he began taking small and intentional steps towards you. 

Perona hastily and quietly ushered Zoro over to the side, taking a seat on a large boulder and tapping the surface beside her in a gesture for Zoro to sit beside her. Without removing his eyes from the scene unfolding before him, he quickly sat on the stone and awaited Mihawk’s every chosen moment. 

Electing to remain silent, you watched and hung onto every movement, utterance and breath produced as he continued on towards you. Before he fell within your proximity, he halted and inhaled a shaken breath as he humbly knelt with both knees on the floor, his hands laced and placed within his lap. Your breath hitched, eyes darted between his honey-coloured eyes which then immediately snapped shut. 

He deeply inhaled a breath, his eyes remaining closed as he focussed on his movements. He lilted a rumbled hum, a tune unfamiliar to you produced from his nose and serenading you with its melody. Mihawk was singing, and he was singing for you. 

“Never I’ve known love like this,

As vibrant as the seas.

I’ll sheathe my blade, and disarm my shield,

For a chance just to please.”

His eyes remained shut, lips almost cautiously relaying the lyrics as he produced them. After the small verse produced, his words waved more confidently through his lips and enunciated each spoken lyric. 

Perona attempted to silence her elation by slapping her hand over her lips, her other hand finding Zoro’s knee and giving it a firm squeeze to express her excitement physically. Zoro was not faring much better, his own shock written on his face he could barely notice Perona’s hand on his knee as he gripped his thighs to stifle his surprise at Mihawk’s skillful melody. 

“The way your lips summon me,

The way your eyes hold promise,

May your bed never be empty,

Should dawn be upon us.”

Mihawk’s eyes opened, his breath hitching as he witnessed the longing gaze you were offering to him. Your eyes swelled with emotions, lips parting and drawing up in a melancholy smile. Mihawk offered you a small, bashful smile as he continued to sing to you. 

Your eyes never left Mihawk for a minute, watching as he knit his brows together and continued to utter promises through melody towards you.

“I will share my days with you,

For this to you I swear.

Nightfall I be by your side,

For it’s not yours alone to bear.”

He rose his knee from his kneeling into a lunge, bowing his head down and removing his hat from his head. A final promise uttered lyrically from within his skilled melody, you holding onto each word. 

“The seas and sword were my first love,

The training alone be vast.

Although you were not my first to love,

May we both be each's last.”

Mihawk sucked in a baited breath, awaiting a small reprimand or disciplinary comment regarding his abilities. He was no singer nor composer, the lyrics produced alongside the melody were spur of the moment. His skills were of the sword, not of poetry and lyricism. 

“Do my words and melody please you?” Mihawk whispered, his eyes holding firm to the floor as his dark curls bobbed to a lower bow, “Will you allow me the luxury of my heart, my body and my soul joining with yours, Lady Dracule?”

He elevated his head, his eyes softening and rapidly blinking to stifle the rising beat of his heart as he remained in his humility. A man such as he was not accustomed to humbling himself before anyone, doing precisely as he pleased and when he pleased to do it. With you, this was uncharted and untested waters. He was in love, and would spend the rest of his days romancing you should you ask it of him. 

Truthfully, he was prepared to offer his adoration, praises and romance to you at all hours whether you asked it of him or not. 

“You may have me, I am yours,” you answered him after several moments of pregnant pause, rising to your feet and offering him your right hand to take with his left, “Just as you are mine.” Mihawk released a breath he did not know he was withholding from his chest, the weight rolling off his shoulders and having him relax beneath your admission. 

He took this moment to study your carefully painted lashes, noticing the subtle hints in tints and hues decorating your skin at the hands of the genius jester. The stars were reflected in your eyes, the pigments complimenting the change in darkened material pooling over your dress. 

“C-Can I,” he fell over his words, closing his eyes and mentally scolding himself for his stumble, “Can I kiss you, my lady?” A small squeak from the corner of the room had you both break from your illusion that this corner of reality was not yours alone to share. You also had two witnesses. 

Mihawk snapped his eyes over to the two words sitting happily on the boulder beside the decorated floor, scolding them with a single pointed look. At his momentary shift of focus, you used the opportunity to rise from your sitting position on the throne Buggy sourced for you and stooped down to collect Mihawk’s chin between your index finger and thumb. 

You shifted his face back, witnessing the momentary shock as he gazed into your eyes. With a soft smile, you lowered your face and collected his lips with your own. Although he was kneeling, Mihawk was a tall individual. This position did not have your neck aching at its stoop, but was comfortable as you slowly pressed more of yourself against the former warlord. 

Mihawk wrapped his arms around your waist, bunching the fabric within his hands and holding you firmly pressed against him. He parted his lips, his tongue darting out to dampen your bottom lip as he squeezed your hips within his wide fingers. You hummed against his lips, your fingers raking over his beard to entangle within his curled locks. He smiled into the kiss, rising from the floor and fully bracing himself against you with his forearms circling your waist. 

The ruffles of the skirts below you illuminated several of the rocks littering the material, a gasp fleeing from Perona the longer she stared at the balled objects adoring the fabric.

“The rocks light up when they move!” she hushed her whisper to Zoro who waved his hand to silence her as he witnessed the loving embrace between his lord and lady. Although Zoro would never admit it aloud, he was enjoying every minute of witnessing such joy between two people he held most dear. 

Breaking from the kiss, your eyes half lidded as they gazed up at your husband. His expression mirrored your own, gazing lovingly down at you with a soft smile gently creasing the corners of his eyes. 

“Let’s go home,” Mihawk whispered, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead and hovering his lips over your skin as he cradled your head against his chest, “I hope Shanks and his crew have left as some wine.”

“I’m more concerned about the food,” you giggled, prompting Mihawk to break away from your forehead and smooth his hands over your hair, “All I’ve had to eat and drink today is that single piece of honeycomb, a glass of wine for breakfast, that small sip of unity wine shared with you, and a glass of wine with the clown when he prepared me in this ensemble.” His eyes widened, looking into your smiling face in shock. You laughed up at him, raising your hand up to caress his cheek.

“You’ve only had wine and honeycomb for the whole day, my beloved?” his tone held a small air of caution within.

“Yes, my heart,” you huffed out a small sigh of laughter at witnessing his agitation. Although his anger never left, the small twitch of his lip and hitch in his breath indicated his pleasure of receiving such a high honor of that title. 

“Well that will simply not do,” he growled, shifting you in his grip to slip his arm around your waist and usher you through the cave mouth, “I have some sourdough and salted butter on the ship. We’ll break into that before we partake in the reception feast.” You smiled up at your husband, watching as he wordlessly gestured for your two wards to follow behind you. 

Where Perona could not stop staring at your dress, the only thing within Zoro’s focus was how you looked up at Mihawk, and how Mihawk looked down at you. The love you held for each other within that expression alone had a pang sound within his heart, and caused soft doubts to shift his perspective. 

Whether spoken aloud to you or not, Zoro’s quest in becoming the world's greatest swordsman would one day rip this fresh union apart. He would kill Mihawk to claim that title, and that would surely mean the destruction of your happiness.

As you made your way through the sandy coast and onto Mihawk’s vessel, Zoro continued to seek out different ways to achieve his goals and leave you both to thrive in your happiness. 

-

From the peaceful drift into the Kuraigana port, to the reunification with your guests, Mihawk would not allow you a moment to break away from him. Hollars and cheers at your arrival were quickly silenced as they took in the next aspect of your ensemble. 

Now exposed under the light of the moon, at each small movement of your legs beneath the dark skirt, the illumination of bioluminescent rocks shook and roared to life. The fanning material danced at your feet, the weight of the many layers of broad skirts heavy upon each footstep. You truly appreciated Mihawk’s presence at your side to enable you to lean against him for support each time the gown pulled at your waist and hips.

Your bodice was encrusted with similar trails of glassy stones, the overlaying chains from your neck to your waist forming the unity of constellations between both yours and Mihawk’s birth signs. Buggy had put an excessive amount of thought into such a piece, pooling all his knowledge to provide you the best reiteration of starlight he could truly muster. 

The outdoor reception space was littered with soft strings of light, a circular wooden floor elevated a step up as a makeshift dance area. Several clusters of seats were available off to the sides of the wooden floor they were standing on, where a small quartet of musicians lay off to the side of the area and softly painting the air with their melodical portraiture. 

Mihawk paid his guests little mind, other than a curt nod or a subtle smile to your former students. The many staff continued to present platters of bite-sized ensembles, each small taste of food attuned to both yours and Mihawk’s refined palates. Each time a tray was presented to you, you would break your conversation away from your guests and thank the staff with a warm smile on your face.

As he showcased you to his guests, he watched as the fatigue of the day was slowly catching up with you. The little stumble of your feet under the weight of the dress, the small waver in your smile when you assumed none were watching, the way you clung to his side: he was observant of your every moment and there at your side to catch you should you fall. He was yours to do with what you will, clay awaiting molding into the husband you desired him to be. 

Music began to play at a more elevated volume, the guests encouraging you with a soft cheer to get you to open the dance floor together. Mihawk looked subtly off to you, noticing you were struggling beneath the layers of your skirts. No matter how vast your training in becoming a debutant yourself, nothing could have prepared you to carry the amount of weight from rocks of various shapes and sizes. 

“Beloved, are you-,” Mihawk began, his short question being stolen from him by the nasally interruption of Captain Buggy D Clown. 

“-If I may, my lady Dracule,” Buggy’s broad, painted smile laid brilliantly over his lips, “I have a small surprise for you.” 

“Oh?” you asked, brows elevating up your forehead in curiosity. 

“Your resume presented to the world government several years back indicated you were an excellent dancer, trained the best of them attending here today, in fact,” he complimented you bowing in a low and crouched stoop.

“I am a competent dancer, yes,” you admitted, eyeing him curiously as he picked at your hem with his gloveless fingers, “And I do enjoy the movement when the moment is called upon.” 

“Then it would be such a shame should the moment be taken from you under the weight of this dress, my lady,” Buggy smirked up at you, a silver object playfully juggling between his fingertips. Before you realized what the object was, Buggy precautioned both you and Mihawk, “Bird-Boy, stand back. My lady, close your eyes and hold your breath.” 

Immediately doing what you were told, you heard the ignition of a flint-lighter and the warm flash of open flame illuminating your eyelids to a deep crimson color. Gasps and screams from your guests informed you of all you needed to comprehend at this moment.

Captain Buggy D Clown had lit your dress on fire. 

A wild rush of heat expanded over the base of your skirt, the tongues of blaze lapping at your skin and immediately cooled with bursts of icey air. As you felt the rising warmth begin to die down, you opened your eyes to witness the small, illuminant rocks burst and break to soothe over the licks of flame. Upon each burst of impact, the color of your dress would change to a crisp white, to a warm blue, down to a dark hue of red, all the way to a dim purple. 

At the last burst of rock sparking and spurting over the gown, the arrangement that remained was a softer, pale dress that halted just below your knees. The slit from the hem on your left side tastefully elevated to just below the angle your thigh met at the curvature of your hips. The dress fanned out, dipping in at your waist and cinching in your bust. There were no remaining rocks nor combustive fabric on your body, much to your delight. 

After you adjusted to your new weight distribution, feeling lighter and more energetic already, the picture you were left with standing before you was Buggy’s throat being impaled on the smaller blade formerly hung around your husband’s neck. Your eyes widened and your body moved faster than your mind did to halt the scene unfolding before you. 

“First you kidnap my wife, now you light her on fire?” Mihawk barked, slashing at his throat while Buggy stuttered over his words, “It seems as if you are trying so desperately to get me to kill you, Clown. I should have you flogged and cast into the seas for your idiocy-.”

“-My heart, I am unharmed,” your voice broke him away from his heavy threats, his hands immediately withdrawing from the clown to cradle your cheeks within his palms. You kept your face calm, reassuring him with your expression alone that you remained unaltered and unharmed. 

He floated his eyes between yours, briefly dipping to your lips before withdrawing back up to your eyes. You nodded within his hands in an act to reassure him further, your smile never faltering. After a hushed moment’s pause, Mihawk could no longer contain himself.

Hastily, he dipped his face down, lips colliding with yours and drawing several cheers from your guests. He hungrily consumed your lips, molding and shaping them beneath his with the desperation you were yet to see its equal. He swooped his hands behind your head, collecting the soft waves Buggy had created for you in fistfuls as he desperately joined his lips with yours. You slowly raked your hands over his waist, holding him close and reassuring him with soft circles against his body with your thumbs. 

Squeaking against his lips at a small tug of your hair, Mihawk immediately loosened his aggressive grasping of your against you, and softly traced his fingertips over your jaw and set to cradle the scruff of your neck. The world faded from existence the longer Mihawk held you against his lips, folding himself against you and holding you in momentary blissful stasis. 

Withdrawing his lips from yours, he gazed into your eyes while briefly panting to catch his breath. Shock eclipsed your features the exact moment you broke away, the cheers from your guests ignited the silence within the ringing of your ears. 

“That was a good ‘en, Hawkie!” Shanks swayed in his speech as he slurred in his stupor, “Do it again!” 

“Quiet down, Captain,” Beckman grunted, gently clapping Shanks on the shoulder, “That’s our exterminator you’re talking about. She deserves a little more respect than you’re offering the both of them presently.” 

“Right, right. I’ll switch to water for a bit, Becks,” Shanks nodded, looking over at his crew and gesturing to the water barrels with his tankard. Mihawk never strayed his eyes from your features, constantly ensuring you were unharmed from the prior blaze. 

“May I dance with you, my beloved?” Mihawk quietly offered, removing his hand from your neck and apprehensively outstretching his hands to you. You smiled at his soft gesture, immediately placing your right hand within his left and allowed him to chaperone you onto the dance floor. 

At the swell of music, you hastily pressed your right hand against Mihawk’s left shoulder while he elevated your right hand to extend to the side. His left hand found the middle of your waist and pulled you against himself. 

You carefully extended your left knee over Mihawk’s leg, the slit withdrawing itself tastefully to reveal your thigh to your guests. At that gesture, Mihawk immediately readjusted his stance: shifting to claim the base of your thigh within his hands as he awaited the appropriate rhythm to dictate his momentum.

“The Clown read your resume,” Mihawk smirked down at you, beginning to shift and maneuver you effortlessly within his arms, “But alas, I have not.” He nudged you with his left hand, following his lead by twirling your body within his arms and releasing his hold over you. 

Both legs now firmly on the ground, you shifted your hips and began to rhythmically follow the melody rising with your feet. Holding your arms perpendicular to the ground, Mihawk collected your left hand and pressed a small kiss atop your wrist before raking his digits over your forearm. 

“You never read my resume before you hired me?” You called over your shoulder, as he raised your left hand to cradle his neck behind you. 

“Never,” Mihawk smiled, placing his right hand over your right and his left over your stomach. He began ushering you both with a rapid sway of his steps, a maneuver you flawlessly followed with each stride. He twirled you away, holding contact with your right arm before reclaiming it in his left hand. 

“Then,” your puzzled expression remained atop your features as you once again faced Mihawk, “Why was I hired here? What drew you to me?” Your beau’s smile elevated, his eyes cracking at the corners as his nose scrunched upwards.

“Truthfully, my beloved,” he confessed, leaning forwards to indicate for you to fall backwards in your steps, “I am not certain what drew me to you. A feeling, I suppose.”

“A feeling?” you elevated your eyebrow and smirked up at him, “Something as simple as a feeling?” 

Mihawk chuckled, twirling you away from him and catching your forearms within his grip, ushering your back to meet his chest. You huffed out a small exasperated breath, shaking your head and swaying with him to the rhythm.

“A feeling,” you repeated in a whisper, attempting to not allow your disdain from presenting too prominently against your features. Mihawk released your right arm, leaning forward and collecting your chin between his thumb and index finger. 

“Allow me the luxury of rephrasing, my beloved,” Mihawk whispered, drawing your forehead to press against his while he moved his body from behind yours to face you once more. 

Drawing up his left hand, he collected your right and his right hand found your back once more. His smile continued to highlight his face, a smile you had come to adore painted on his face beneath his mustache. 

“From the moment I met you all those years ago, I adored you as a skilled governess,” he confessed, stepping backwards while you followed with your forward step, “The way you managed a variety of individuals: debutants, gentlemen and all those in between. Even the witless marines-.”

“-Mihawk,” your warning tone was broken with a small laugh, your smirking reprimand forming a smile over your lips, “Be kind.”

“Apologies, my beloved,” he snickered out a small chuckle, ushering for you to step outwards before hooking you back into his arms, “I never assumed you would accept a job at such short notice in the first place.”

“I had a lull in my waiting list,” you shrugged, turning to face him with a broader smile on your face, “And the stuttering scribbles were intriguing.” Mihawk laughed at your reference to his original summons for you to begin your tutelage of the two wards under his care. 

As the melody swelled, he sighed out a breath, once again placing your forehead against his own and furrowing his brows. In a low whisper, he relayed his final confession to you. There was no room for humor, nor was there a place for the utterance of a lie within his breath. 

“Before there was a possibility of joining with you in matrimony, I simply thought: ‘that was that. Time to live my life as an unmarried swordsman until the next generation rises up to claim that title from me’,” he smiled, halting his movement as the music ended its swell,  “I never thought I would be training that aforementioned generation to take my life, nor did I imagine this twist of circumstances leading you to be within my arms now.” 

You smiled a melancholy smile, only half elevated on your face at his confession. Trailing your hand over his shoulder, you extended it up to collect his whiskered cheek within your palm, soothing over his bottom lip with your thumb. 

“And is this the life you wanted for yourself, Mihawk?” you whispered up at your beloved, searching his eyes for more truth within, “To live in momentary matrimonial peace before Zoro claims your title alongside your life?” 

“This is the life that I have forged for myself,” he whispered against your thumb, pressing a kiss against the padded tip, “And I will hold onto it with every breath I still use to sustain my lungs. I love you, my wife. I am yours, and you are mine, for as long as we both shall live,” he withdrew your hand from his lips and circled it over his neck, “And for whatever comes next.” 

“For whatever comes next,” you mirrored back with closed eyes and lips parted, “Sounds like an awfully exciting adventure, my heart.” Reopening your eyes, you witnessed the smile once again return to Mihawk’s lips. 

At the music’s end, he swooped down to claim another kiss from you. Applause rang through the air, prompting you to part from the oscillation as hastily as you had it begin. The Red-Hair pirate crew and the Buggy-Pirates had begun offering each other their outstretched hands to lead them onto the dance floor. 

You felt a small tap on your shoulder at the exact moment a soft, pale hand with pink-polished fingernails brushed with Mihawk’s own shoulder. You shook your head, confused as you were ushered into the awaiting arms and broad shoulders of Roronoa Zoro. 

His smile was shallow, his mind plagued behind it with the smog of heavy thoughts. Extending out his hand, you took it and curtseyed as he bowed with you. Ushering you to circle the floor with a practiced waltz, Zoro continued to twirl you in silence. 

“You have gotten much better, Zoro,” you complimented him, met with only a single hum in acknowledgement. You furrowed your brows, glancing between his bourbon-hued orbs while he refused to draw his gaze up to meet yours. 

“Did you enjoy the drinks? I have yet to sample the wine presented at the reception-,” you were cut off as Zoro’s thoughts spoke atop your own.

“-I am going to claim his life from him, do you understand?” he gruffly commented, glaring over at Perona and Mihawk as he spun her within his arms with a broad grin and her unwithheld smile mirroring in return, “I intend to kill lord Dracule Mihawk.” You almost stumbled in your dance, recovering quickly as he continued to twirl you. 

After taking a moment to collect your rapidly lashing thoughts, you inhaled a large gulp of breath and extended your exhale slowly through your lips.

“If that is what your destiny is leading you to fulfill,” you reached up your hand and collected his cheek, turning him to meet your eyes, “It is not for me to understand, nor is it my desire to halt you from achieving your goal.” He gasped at your words, stumbling over his feet and barely recovering.

“You won’t ask me not to?” Zoro’s breath hitched on his exhale, searching your eyes for any cause for further stumble, “You won’t plead for me to find a new goal? To settle for being second best and remain that way until we’re all cracked and graying?” 

Giggling at his comment, you extended your arm out and circled it over his head: twirling the conflicted man within your arms.

“I married the ‘World’s Greatest Swordsman’, Dear,” you noted, your smile never wavering as you rejoined him within your arms, “It is an occupational hazard.” 

Zoro’s surprise lingered on his features, his eyes misting over with the swell of emotions he did not prepare himself to express this night. 

“And between us-,” you leant up to his ear, using this opportunity to draw him into a warm and encumbering embrace, “-I would rather it be you. You are someone we both trust,” you withdrew him from your arms and smiled whimsically up at him, “Someone who will grant him the luxury of a swift and merciful departure from this life, should you both be ready to take that step.” 

Where you assumed he would grunt out a gruff groan, you were shocked when he leant further into your arms and circled his forearms around your waist. He nuzzled into your neck, his shoulders beginning to sink against the weight of his confliction. 

“You trust me?” he choked within his soft whisper, “You trust me to give him an honorable death?” His shoulders shuddered within your arms, you immediately drew your hands up to caress his moss-coloured locks. 

“Of course I trust you, Zoro. Just, if you were to grant me one simple favor,” he withdrew from your embrace, continuing to hold your waist as he stared down and awaited further instruction, “Please don’t kill him tonight?” Zoro’s laughter cut through the air, drawing many eyes over to your location as you joined him in his unbridled laughter. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my lady,” he chuckled, briefly joining his forehead against your own and scrunching his nose with his smile. 

“Good boy,” you complimented him with a single tap on his shoulder, “And your dancing really has improved.” You nodded to his feet, noticing how effortlessly he was shepherding you throughout the movements.

“I learnt from the best, my lady,” he winked down at you, his golden drooped earrings glinting within the refraction of the lights. 

As the melody crescendoed from one song into the next, you twirled from within Zoro’s arms and immediately met your right hand against a cool piece of metal, curving beneath your fingertips. 

“If I may, my lady,” the cool rumble of Sir Crocodile reverberated within your chest and shot a tingle up your spine. Although no malice was withheld in his tone, the danger was always present with a man such as he. 

“Sir Crocodile,” you nodded, focussing your body on allowing him to lead you throughout the floor, “I would like to take the opportunity to thank you for your beautiful dress you crafted for me.” 

“I do plan on collecting that debt from the both of you, my lady,” he smirked down at you with a broad grin. His eyes held a bored malice within his purple orbs, hunching down to claim your body within his arms. The impressive height he towered over you had you feeling smaller within his grasp, an advantage you planned on gaining back from him with your wit. 

“And what would you ask of me, Sir?” you smiled up at him, twirling within his arms and circling your body around his back. You drew your fingers over his flesh, watching the visible shudder arising beneath the movement, “I am a simple governess-.”

“-You are Lady Dracule, now,” he retorted, gazing down at you through the corner of his eyes, “A lady who has sway and leverage over a lord. A lady who holds the heart of such a man as he, the ‘World’s Greatest Swordsman’. A lady who-.” You hastily pressed your fingers atop the golden hook, your eyes baring dangerously into his own.

“-Who was and forever will be-,” your low tone had Crocodile taken aback at your statement, “-A simple governess.” 

“And what would a simple governess be able to offer me?” his amused grin parted his lips and elevated his brows. The silvery mark over his cheeks and nose had the purple hues holding more danger within their orbs, “Music and dance lessons, I have hardly a use for.” 

“A governess who has done all a governess could do here,” you smiled up at him, leading him into a twirl, your spin prompting almost a laugh to fall from his lips, “Tamed and trained two unruly youths, along with having one of the world’s most powerful men fall to their knees and beg to claim me as their own.” 

The smirk of Sir Crocodile rose on his lips, his words beginning to form behind his teeth only to be halted by a final word of warning from you.

“Whenever you desire such a woman to perform such an impossible and improbable task as this,” you silenced him with your words, “You know where I will be.” 

At that, you bowed a low curtsey to him and attempted to flee from his arms, only for the hook to catch the crook of your elbow and tug you back into his arms for his final words.

“An expert tamer of unruly individuals,” he whispered in your ear, the ghost of his last cigar lingering on his lips as his breath met with the shell of your ear, “I shall keep you in mind for when such a purpose arises.” Unclasping your arm from within his hook, Sir Crocodile took his leave of you with a final bow. 

You shook off his words, the next partner finding themselves within your arms whipped their cerulean hair against your cheek as they spun you on your toes three times in a circle. 

“I truly am sorry about the kidnapping, my lady,” Buggy uttered with a warm smile, “And I am only partly apologetic for the glorious blaze.” Although you had met both Buggy and Sir Crocodile at the same time, you felt much more comfortable being wielded within his arms than the experience prior.

Buggy released you, clapped his hands three times and stomped his feet rhythmically to the music. You laughed, mirroring his posture and his rhythm back at him. His eyes widened, heart swelling at you matching his exaggerated movements and prompting him to produce some far more elaborate motions. 

He was a joy to dance with, his own starlight shining within his teal eyes and reflecting back onto his various assortment of formal attire. Although no longer wearing a frill-neck collar, his cravat had just as many ruffles fluffing at his jaw. 

“I am not sorry in the slightest for either,” you admitted, your own nod and spin on your toes keeping Buggy mirroring your movements first before stepping in again to claim you in his arms. 

“Not even the kidnapping?” he winced out a small apprehensive grin.

“No, it was an enjoyable experience,” you confessed, laughing in his arms as he assumed the waltz position and stepped in time to the swell of music, “I especially enjoyed the wine.”

“Then you have found the perfect match in Mihawk,” he nodded, scrunching up his nose at the thought, “Personally, I don’t know how you both drink that vinegary piss. I prefer the sweets to compliment and mask my saltiness. Rum is best.” 

“I thank you for your compliments, captain,” you smiled at him.

“About the vinegary piss?” his brows furrowed in confusion, his smile scrunching into a soft pout. You laughed at his comment, shaking your head at him.

“About the perfect match,” you confessed, feeling the end of the music calling to you. Buggy chuckled, offering you a small bow before dismissively waving his hand at you and uncharacteristically turning on his heel. 

You were puzzled at that final gesture, not understanding where such an expression was necessary before you felt a hand clasp around your waist.

“‘S not you, love,” the voice of a red-haired captain uttered beside you, “He still is hung up on our old childhood rivalry.” 

“Ah,” you gasped in understanding with a curt nod, turning in his arm to face him. Dancing with Shanks was an occurrence you were privy to experiencing from time to time aboard the Red-Force with his crew. His attitude was always playful and light with you, always a gentleman. 

“You truly look spectacular tonight, Vile Exterminator,” he complimented you, shifting his dancing position to usher you with his right hand in light of his missing left hand. Joining now both of your right hands, you both stepped in and out before twirling under his arm. 

“Thank you, Red-Haired Rat,” you smirked at him, feeling a pair of eyes watching you dance within Shanks’ arms. 

“I think the big man wants a word,” Shanks confirmed your suspicions, nodding over to his steel-haired first mate, extinguishing his cigarette with his boot heel against the gravel road beside the dancefloor. Shanks twirled you twice more before you were flung from his arm and into the awaiting and ill-practiced hands of Benn Beckman.

“Sorry, my lady,” he uttered, his legs awkwardly swaying him from side to side with you within his arms, “I’m no good at this formal dancin’. I don’t do this.” 

“I know, Benn,” you smiled at him with a soft, close-lipped grin, “But I do appreciate the effort.” He hummed with a curt cough in response, truly feeling out of place with this genre of dance. 

“About what’s to come,” he gruffly coughed, attempting to spin you on the dancefloor as easily as he could ask his body to perform such a skill, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” You sighed out a small huff of breath, shaking your head at him as he continued to explain to you.

“There’s a lot of knots,” he confessed with a winced, grimacing smile, “I mean, a lot of knots.” 

“I trust you,” you shrugged, feeling his tension rising in his shoulders and stance. You halted the elaborate dance, ushering him off to the side of the dancefloor and opting to sway with him to the beat while he aired his concerns.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with the experience,” he confessed, the gray tint of his eyes holding you firmly within his vision, “Some of the knots are in-... -a few key places.” 

Your rapid and unwavering blink told Beckman all he needed to know regarding his apprehension. 

“It was my own fault for asking this in the first place, Benn,” you confessed again with a shrug, “And, I reiterate: I trust you. We’ve known each other for years, and of all those aboard the Red-Force,” you feigned a small hum of deep thought, before smiling up at the burly first-mate, “I do trust you the most.” 

“I hope your trust isn’t misguided, my lady,” he grunted, your left hand being claimed by a presence at your side. The small, almost invisible smile, from Beckman informed you that the Rat was once again at your side. 

“And, she’s mine again,” Shank’s playful tone cut in, peeling you away from Beckman and onto the dancefloor once more. He ushered you into a skilled twirl, your smile once again returning to your face as the swell of music reached the peak and began its crescendo towards the final. 

As Shanks made to draw you into another embrace at his chest, you felt the tug of your waist pull you back within familiar and comfortable arms. A warm smile and a flush rose to your cheeks, humming as you lent into his chest.

“Missed me, beloved?” the man behind you held an air of confidence, turning you within his arms as you looked up at him through half-hooded eyes.

“Always, my heart,” you retorted, elevating your arms to seek out the nape of his neck. He hummed at your confession, mirroring your adoration down at you, “Shall we have a rest? Enjoy some mead and begin the fire?”

“A fire?” the elated voice of the cerulean-haired clown-captain called out in joy, “We’re having a fire like the good old days?” Shanks hesitantly walked beside Buggy, offering him a small smile and confirming with him.

“Just like the old days,” Shanks nodded, looking between Buggy and Mihawk, “Back when Roger made us collect the wood, but wouldn’t let us near the flint and steel.” 

“And look who’s got the spark now, boys!” Buggy’s crackled cackle and his powerful stance prompted laughs to rise among the guests. Beckman shook his head, wordlessly directing the Red-Hair crew to begin building a fire for you and your husband to enjoy. 

You nuzzled into the warm and exposed chest of your husband, feeling the weight shift from you against him as he slightly elevated you off your feet. 

“I think sitting down is a good idea,” you confessed, looking down at your worn shoes and rapidly swelling feet from the elaborate dancing and carrying the weighty dress.

“Then that is what we will do, my beloved,” Mihawk smiled softly down at you, pressing his forehead against your own as he enjoyed the feeling of holding you in his arms once again.

-

Sitting within the arms of your husband, the crackle of the fire illuminated the guests that remained behind at the castle, some setting up bedrolls and pitching tents within the surroundings. 

Mihawk hooked his arm around your shoulder, drawing you against himself and pressing soft kisses against your temple while whispering sweet phrases and poetry within your ear. His beard tickled at each short utterance, prompting a giggle to fall from not only the words, but the feeling of his beard against your skin.

Shanks was the first to notice the small lull in atmosphere, a fiendish grin finding purchase against his lips as he refilled his tankard from the barrel of mead. 

“Alright, you lot. According to the customs of Kuraigana,” Shank’s stumbling and partially inebriated voice slurred, “We all know what comes next for you two. We’ve ‘gotta follow all of the traditions of the land. You know, so the ghostly hag is happy.”

“What are you implying, Red-Hair,” Mihawk’s prior warm tone cracked under its now icey exterior, “Surely you don’t mean-.”

“-Why the ‘Bedding Ceremony’ of course!” Shanks attempted to rise to his feet, stumbling backwards and momentarily sitting upon the lap of his first mate, who apprehensively caught him. “Thanks big man,” he mumbled, rising successfully to his feet and thrusting out his tankard, “You go up there with your Sunshine bride, and we wait out here and make as much noise as we can while you perform your husbandly duties.” 

A warm flush rose to your cheeks, littering your face with the warmth of blood swelling to the tips of your ears. You could feel the rapid pulse beating in your eardrums, your heart stampeding your racing mind of all thoughts of what was yet to come. 

“Then you come and rejoin us as one flesh,” Shanks concluded, saluting Mihawk with his broad tankard, “And we drink to the happy couple, and carry off our celebrations into the wee hours of the morn.”

“Is this truly a custom of this land, my heart?” you uttered quietly to the broody bearded man at your side, his attention snapping over towards you. His eyes softened as his heart swelled, lips parting while drawing up his right hand to caress your cheek.

“Unfortunately it is, my beloved,” he whispered with a half-smile, “And a custom we need not adhere to should you find discomfort in such a feat.” 

You allowed a small giggle to fall from your lips, leaning into Mihawk’s gentle caress and pressing a soft kiss on the heel of his palm.

“It could be worse,” you allowed the giggle to rise in volume as your smile broadened, “In Germa-Kingdom, the guests watch the act while they throw sugar-coated almonds at the newlyweds in the hopes it will aid in producing male offspring.” You placed your hand over Mihawk’s, his still holding your cheek as his smile mirrored your own. 

“I suppose this custom is not so bad, then,” Mihawk chuckled, rising to his feet and offering you out his hand, “Shall we, my beloved?”

“I suppose it is time,” you smiled in return, placing your hand within his and allowing him to hoist you up from your position on the log. Mihawk’s brows creased, mild agitation forming at the center of his forehead. Before you could ask him what was bothering him, he turned his head to Beckman: who was already rising to stand. 

The blush returned as your eyes widened, almost forgetting what you had requested of the cursed moss-agate ring on your unity finger. 

“Beckman,” Mihawk’s agitation growing in depth as the hoarse growl rumbled in his throat, “In light of the fact this is part of the covenant pact forged with the ring-.”

“-I would not lay a single finger unnecessarily on your wife, lord Mihawk,” Beckman’s whiskey voice hummed as he inhaled his cigarette to the filter end, “Would you prefer it be Shanks in his current stupor using his right hand and teeth?”

“Absolutely not,” Mihawk barked at the suggestion.

“Then I will make it quick and precise,” Beckman reassured him with a curt nod, “Follow up in twenty minutes, and your bride will be awaiting you to unwrap her within your marriage bed.” 

Beckman outstretched the crook of his elbow, a satchel containing what you presumed to be your sun-dress shrugged over his shoulder. You apprehensively withdrew your hand from Mihawk’s, giving him one more longing look before you allowed yourself to be ushered into the halls of Castle Kuraigana. 

You both walked in silence, unsure of what words needed to be spoken between you before you engaged in this next aspect of your night together. The silence was peaceful, the soft tranquility you had not experienced since beginning this venture of matrimony. You were almost thankful this moment was granted to you to share with one of your most respected acquaintances in your time as a governess. 

He chaperoned you into the halls, finding the door that led into the suite allocated to both you and Mihawk as the lord and lady of Kuraigana. In the wake of the soft tranquility, anxiety at the anticipation of what’s to come awoke within your chest. Your heart elevated its rhythmic thundering, your mind beginning to swirl and race as the anticipation only grew.

“Take a moment, my lady,” Beckman’s soothing voice hummed at you, “All the time you need, alright? It’s a lot of changes to adjust to, and I would never dream of rushing you.” 

“Thank you, Benn,” you exhaled, rolling your neck and attempting to stifle the rise in your anxious thoughts. After a few small breaths, you reopened your eyes and smiled to yourself as you felt finally ‘ready’ to begin this new chapter of your life. 

The door shut behind the first-mate of the Red-Hair pirates, you made your way behind the dressing screen. You silently thanked Buggy for ensuring this garment was easier for you to remove than the one prior, but anticipation rose in your chest as Beckman revealed a satchel to you. 

“This is going to be extremely difficult to do whilst blindfolded, my lady,” he gruffly chuckled, retrieving several golden strands of linked chains from within the canvas bag, “Are you certain this is adhering to the covenant you made with the aetherial pest?” 

“To quote my own words, Benn,” you shook your head and straightened your shoulders, “‘Sunlight: a dress that meets the intensity of the sun with its rays of gold and copper. An accumulation of material so outrageously forbidden, it be intended for your eyes alone with its purpose. A dress so scantily designed that you will find none to ever match its equal in both color and provocative appearance’.” Your voice mocked your own recollection, prompting Beckman to chuckle at your tone.

“Well then, there may be a small hiccup in our plan,” he shrugged, taking out a strip of lengthy material and beginning to fold it in half. Upon measuring the half-width, Beckman used his canine teeth to puncture the fabric and tear it into two, thick strips. 

“What do you mean, Benn?” your eyes followed his movements with both intrigue and curiosity.

“For his eyes alone,” he quoted back at you, chuckling as he handed you one of the strips, “Looks like I won’t be the only one experiencing sensory deprivation in this little encounter, my lady.” Taking the fabric from his outstretched hands, your brows knit together before the realization hit you. 

“You’ll have to wear a blindfold too.” 

[birinboom]

The Luck-Bringing Cat

Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader; a shy former imperial concubine

The Apothecary Diaries-esque AU (I am kinda-sorta stealing this plotline from ep. 3), arranged marriage, budding romance, domestic fluff, pet names (JY calls Reader my dear, my love), Reader is also referred to as ‘my lady’ 🌸 3.162 words

Jing Yuan, a famed general and childhood friend of the emperor, has yet to take a wife. The emperor decides to solve this by giving one of his least favorite concubines to his best friend. Even though Jing Yuan is against this practice, he can't help but fall head over heels in love once he meets you.

Thank you so much to @a11eya for beta-reading this for me!

Only one man had managed to stay at the emperor’s side through most of his life. Jing Yuan, the son of imperial scholars, made friends with the crown prince early in their lives, and they quickly became inseparable. As they aged, Jing Yuan became an asset to the newly crowned emperor; a seasoned warrior, an accomplished general, a brilliant strategist, and one of the few people who dared oppose the monarch when needed. 

The emperor loved him like a brother. And it worried him that Jing Yuan never seemed interested in taking a wife. The general was far from blind to the longing gazes of the women of the court, he accepted their offers on occasion but he never seemed to want more than one or two nights with any woman. The emperor did not see anything wrong with this as he himself split his time more or less equally between his favorite concubines. But any man who was less fortunate than the emperor should surely want something more stable, especially a man who was slowly getting through his best age.

When Jing Yuan was pressed about why he did not want to marry, he stated with a lazy smile that he had neither the time nor the energy for that kind of courtship. But the emperor saw the slight downturn of the corners of the general’s lips. He saw through the facade of his best and oldest friend. 

I have neither the time nor the energy for that kind of courtship. But I desperately wish I did.

The emperor thought deeply about this issue. Then he remembered someone in the inner court. A concubine who had fallen from his favor at their first meeting. He had never spent time with you after that. Why, he had barely thought about you in years. Still, you were a beautiful woman, well-educated, and, from what he had been told, quite quick-witted. You would make a good gift for his best friend.

Now he just needed to convince Jing Yuan that he would not take no for an answer.

Jing Yuan was still unable to fully understand how everything had come to this. He could not fathom why the emperor suddenly wanted to give him one of the imperial concubines as a wife. Giving an unfavored concubine to a newly appointed officer as a reward was far from an uncommon practice, Jing Yuan was well aware of that. But he had never expected it to happen to him, not after so many years in service of the emperor. He had been lucky to manage arranging a meeting with you before the wedding. 

This practice seemed so wholly unfair in his mind. Unfair to you and any other concubines affected by the custom. You had already been given as a gift to one man, now you were being given to another, neither of whom you had chosen for yourself. Jing Yuan knew there was little he could do about the situation, but he did not feel right accepting another human being as a gift.   

He continued towards the palace gardens which had been chosen as the meeting place, still in deep speculation about whether he had any chance of changing the emperor’s mind. 

Turning a corner, he was torn out of his thoughts when he came upon a small gathering of women, all of them wearing identical robes. One held a folded-up parasol. They were all calling out to someone in voices too hushed for Jing Yuan to discern any words. 

Ladies-in-waiting, he thought, paying them little mind. Then, his eyes fell on you.

The emperor had shown him a painting of you, commissioned shortly before you had begun your journey to the palace. Even if some years had passed since then, Jing Yuan still instantly recognized you.

You stood at the top of a small bridge crossing one of the many creeks in the garden, your face tilted up towards a nearby tree. The setting autumn sun fell upon you at an angle that made your skin and hair glow. Tearing his gaze away from you, Jing Yuan looked towards the tree as well, his trained ears picking up the song of finches. For a moment he wondered if it might be the same flock that visited the small garden of his own residence. Turning his eyes back to you, he watched as you lifted a hand, holding it up towards the tree. A finch took off from a branch and landed on one of your outstretched fingers.

Until now your face had been mostly devoid of emotion, eyes fixed on the tree. But when the finch landed on your hand, looking calmly at you with one black eye, your features softened, a fond smile gracing your face like the sun appearing from behind rain clouds. 

Jing Yuan watched you lift the bird closer to your face, whispering to it, your other hand coming up to gently scratch the top of its head. He unconsciously raised a hand to his lips in an attempt to hide the smile blooming there. If this was how you behaved with one of his beloved finches (and he was certain at this point that the bird was indeed from the flock he possessively thought of as his), if you acted so kind and loving towards the smallest of creatures with no prompting, then marrying you could quite possibly be one of the best things to ever happen to him. The thought of having you gifted to him still felt wrong, but… perhaps he did not need to dread it as much as he had at first.

Stepping forward, he cleared his throat, trying his best to school his features into a pleasant, if slightly detached, expression. 

You gasped, raising your arm to hide your face behind your long sleeve. The finch took off, frightened by your sudden movement, and the rest of the flock followed it. The flapping of their wings filled the air, drowning out your greeting as you and your ladies-in-waiting bowed to him.

Jing Yuan felt another smile tug at his lips. He managed to hide it behind his hair as he returned your bow.

Your ladies-in-waiting quickly moved to one side of the walkway, letting him pass. He looked at you as he ascended the bridge. The way you peeked shyly at him over your still-raised sleeve made his heart clench. He sent you what he hoped was a pleasant smile, and nodded towards the path on the opposite side.

“Shall we, my lady?”

The two of you strolled along the garden path for a while, Jing Yuan filling the air with what idle conversation he could think of, and you giving brief, shy answers.

Then, he heard the flap of wings and felt the touch of tiny claws digging into his hair, brushing against his scalp. Soon, he felt a small tug as the finch began to preen him. He could barely help but chuckle when another finch landed on his shoulder. He felt your gaze on him, then your eyes moved to the bird on his far shoulder.

“Oh!” you exhaled.

Raising his opposite hand, he gently encouraged the bird to hop onto one of his fingers, then moved the hand -with bird- closer to you.

“I have worked quite hard on taming them over the years,” he said. “The most recent brood is the tamest yet; they are the only ones so far to actively seek my presence. Though I suspect they only come to me in hopes of food. Would you like to hold it again?”

You looked away, your sleeve rising once more to hide your face. “Again…” you said, sounding very put on the spot.

Jing Yuan tried to quell his laughter. “I must admit that I was watching you for a moment before making my presence known. What I saw was very… endearing.” 

You were silent for a while, then you peeked at him over the top of your sleeve. “May I be frank with you, General?”

He nodded. “Please.”

Staying quiet for a few seconds, you then drew in a deep breath. “I was rather nervous about this meeting. I have heard quite a few rumors about you, about your excellence at anything you do. And I was worried that I might not be able to live up to the expectations of the august general. But… You handle these birds with such tenderness and care. They trust you. Maybe they can trust me too, in time.”

Looking off to the side, you finally lowered your sleeve, clasping your hands in front of you. “I am very fond of small animals. My family owned a couple of tame nightingales when I was a child; I used to love falling asleep while listening to their singing.”

He felt another smile tug at his lips. He too had pleasant memories of falling asleep to the sound of bird song as a child. Though in his case it had been the wild birds outside his windows lulling him to sleep. Sharing such a similar memory with you only made him feel delighted.

Briefly peeking at him, as if to judge his reaction to your words, you then continued, “I have always yearned for a cat too, but my parents would not allow it because of our birds. And I never mustered up the courage to request permission to keep a cat after I arrived at the inner court. Though I doubt the emperor would have indulged me.” You sighed ruefully. “I suppose even now, since birds are favored once again, a pet cat will be impossible. The birds will be enough.”

Jing Yuan looked at you for a moment, stroking his chin. “A cat is a pleasant idea. As the saying goes, ‘a cat well cared for may bring luck to its owner.’ Though if I had my way I should like a lion instead!” When he saw your eyes widen, your mouth starting to open in surprise, he could not stop himself from laughing once more. “I jest, I merely jest! A house cat will suffice! Perhaps we can teach it to leave the birds in peace, or keep it indoors at all times.”

The thought of keeping a cat locked inside, though he doubted it was truly achievable, brought his thoughts back to the way you had been hidden away in the inner court for years. His smile faltered. Would it be right for him to mention his hesitation? Would it assuage you to know that he was far from satisfied with how the situation was handled?

“If I may be so bold, my lady… You were not the only one who had a certain level of apprehension about this meeting.”

You shrank back a little, shoulders slumping. “I… see.”

Jing Yuan saw you raise your hand again, he could only assume to hide your face once more. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he reached out to take your hand in his.

“Please, do not misunderstand me, my dear! It is not because of you, it is the entire situation. I do not much like being given another person as a gift. And I find it wholly unfair to you to be given away once again.” 

He had so much more to say on this subject, so many points to make about how the former concubines nearly always came out as the losers in these circumstances. And yet he felt his mind go blank. He brushed his thumb over the back of your hand in an attempt to gather his thoughts. It had the opposite effect. Your hand was softer and more delicate than he could have ever imagined; so different from his own strong, calloused hands. It took every last shred of self control to not raise it to his lips. 

Releasing your hand with great reluctance, he forced himself to finish his thoughts. “I am loath to receive a wife under such circumstances, even if she is one I should have quite liked to court of my own volition, had I been allowed to. But in the end it is His Majesty’s decision. Even so, I can promise you this, my dear: No matter what may come, I will always do my utmost to ensure that we are both happy with this union.”

You grasped the hand he had held with your free hand, rubbing the skin, your head bowed enough that he could not see your expression.

“I-I…”

Then you raised your head again, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I must admit, I am quite relieved that you feel that way. That you understand the situation from my point of view too.”

Jing Yuan returned your smile. “As much as I am against this entire circumstance, I must admit… the more I get to know you, my dear, the more I am looking forward to you becoming my wife.”

The two of you talked for a while longer, then Jing Yuan escorted you and your ladies-in-waiting back to the inner court. Seeing the gate leading to the inner court left him with a sense of melancholy he could not quite place. Perhaps he had already grown so accustomed to your presence that the thought of being without you left him empty. It made him look forward to your wedding day even more.

One early morning, some six months later, Jing Yuan was found crouched over a rosebush in the small garden of his residence, pruning shears in hand. It was something he refused to give up, no matter how many people told him it was below his rank to tend to his own garden. Gardening was one of the few things that truly cleared his mind, one of the few still moments of the day that allowed him to relax. And today, he needed it.

He had already spent several hours lying awake, tossing and turning, his mind whirring, until finally giving up on sleep once he heard the first birds singing outside. Rolling over, he pressed a kiss against your bare shoulder, then left the bed to start his day.

The air outside was cold enough that his breath created little puffs of mist, the remnants of frost biting his cheeks. He paid it little mind; it helped clear his head. And so, he crouched over the few bushes that needed pruning this early in spring, settling into a calming rhythm as the world around him slowly grew from a milky gray to pink and orange.

His rhythm was disturbed as something brushed up against his knee. Looking down, he spotted the white kitten he had presented to you on your wedding day, just a few days before the new year began. You had been infatuated with the cat (as had he, as were both of you even now), and you had aptly named it Snowmoon in honor of the full moon hanging in the sky, casting lambent light over the snow-covered ground of the garden outside your windows.

The memory of that night still made him smile.

Snowmoon raised itself on its hind legs, the little bell on its collar jingling. It propped its front paws against his knee, and chirped imploringly. Jing Yuan could only assume that he had been so engrossed in his gardening that the sound of the bell had gone unnoticed.

How did you get out? he wondered as he picked up the kitten, holding it up in front of him. 

The kitten returned his gaze evenly with its brilliantly blue eyes and began to purr. Cradling it to his chest, he stood, intending to put the cat back inside. It had yet to learn that the birds of the garden were off-limits. And the birds had yet to learn what the sound of the bell signified.

But as he stood, he caught sight of another figure in the morning light. You were bundled up in several layers of clothing, seemingly ready to spend a while outside.

Jing Yuan frowned. “What are you doing out of bed, my love?” he asked. “It is still so early.”

You looked away, trying to hide the shy smile forming on your lips. You were still not used to the terms of endearment which he favored.

“I wanted to lend you a hand,” you said.

He appreciated the sentiment. But he found it difficult to imagine you crouching in the dirt like he had been. 

“There is no need, my dear, I am almost finished.”

Your mouth set in a stubborn line. “Then I will help with the last of it.”

The firmness in your voice made his heart flutter. He enjoyed all the work you put into getting to know him better. And he made sure to return it tenfold.

“Very well, my love. Let me just put this little rascal back inside.”

As he came outside once again, he found you crouched over the rosebush he had been working on, your long sleeves almost trailing in the dirt.

That will not do.

Jing Yuan pulled out the long ribbon holding his hair as he moved closer. Crouching behind you, he deftly wound it first underneath one sleeve, across your back, then underneath the other sleeve, tying it at your shoulder. His actions left your arms bare, sleeves far out of harm’s way. 

You shivered in the cold air, goosebumps forming on your newly exposed skin. 

Jing Yuan rubbed your arms, trying to get some warmth into your body. “You are still free to go inside.”

You huffed. “I will not.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Handing you the pruning shears, he showed you where to prune, guiding your hands. The two of you chatted idly about the roses for a while, when he expected them to bloom and what colors he had planted. Then the topic moved to the future as a whole.

“Tell me, my love,” Jing Yuan said, wrapping his arms around you, “I know you have only been with me for a few short months, but how do you like it so far?” 

You leaned back against him, nestling further into his embrace.

“I enjoy it so very much. I appreciate the freedom I have, compared to the inner court. And…” You turned enough to meet his gaze, raising a hand to caress his cheek. “I have grown quite fond of the master of this house.”

He felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh? Do I need to be jealous of this man?”

“Perhaps,” you said, a smile lingering on your own mouth. “He has been very kind to me.”

“I suppose I shall have to be even kinder, then,” he said, before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

Maybe there really was something to the saying of ‘a cat well cared for may bring luck to its owner.’ Jing Yuan was certainly feeling very fortunate at that moment.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖

[celestiamour]

ft. cassandra nova x f! reader — marvel

╰₊✧ surviving in the void isn’t the same as living┊0.6k words

contains: established relationship, angsty, before dp&w, probably ooc & lore inaccurate in so many ways but uhhhhh

➤ author's note: we need more cassandra x reader, she’s the prettiest bald woman

you stare out into the void, a vast desert that’s a mere skeleton of other worlds you used to explore freely, sitting on the ground and enjoying the fleeting breeze. there’s no point in it really, it’s already been burned into your mind long ago. there’s never anything different about the view, just sand and machinery with the occasional variant minion wandering around. despite being at the top of the food chain with cassandra, you feel like you’re only surviving instead of living, scraping by in a dimension that’s essentially a junkyard for discarded souls.  

the faint sound of whistling reached your ears, but you didn’t bother to turn your head and see who was approaching. you don’t need to when this spot was only known by one other person whom you would always sneak off with for moments alone.

“what are you thinking about, love?” she asked, sitting down next to you.

“nothing important,” you sigh. 

she gently nudged you. “come on, don’t make me use my telepathy on you.” it’s a joke, of course. she loves you enough not to do so, a display of trust to show that she won’t violate those boundaries like the first time you met. “tell me what’s going on.”

“it’s just that… don’t you ever want to leave the void and go back to earth?’

she hummed in response, “i guess i never thought about it, but i don’t think so. i can freely be myself and use my powers here while basically being the empress of this realm. i don’t think i want to leave for a place that would only hunt me down when they find that i escaped and banish me again after a few days. and besides,” she affectionately laid her head on your shoulder, “i have you here with me.”

“right, i know that, but… i can’t help but wish that we could be a normal couple, doing normal couple things… like i want to take you on dates at the beach, go to fancy restaurants, introduce you to my remaining family, travel the world to see all its wonders… i treasure what we have right now, but i want to do so much more with you, even if it’s just stereotypical lovey-dovey stuff…” your smile is pained and you worry if you’re being stupid right now. cass seemed perfectly content with how everything was right now, you had no idea if she felt the same way you did. it was a topic that seemed too sensitive to bring up before, but it’s one that was weighing on you constantly these past few days. 

you did have a point though. there isn’t anything really romantic that could be done in the void, nothing aside from physical touch, long talks and walks to nowhere, watching decades-old films on a beat-up television found a while back that barely worked— it was no place where love could flourish when merely existing was difficult enough.

cass looks deeply into your eyes, the bright eyes of her beautiful girlfriend. not even her girlfriend, she thinks of you more like her wife, a soulmate who was gifted to her after years of suffering hidden under layers of her sadistic and mischievous personality. if she was allowed to go back to the world she was ripped away from with you, she would like to marry you properly and put a ring around your finger as a testament to all you both have gone through.

escape was something she barely considered since it was something that seemed so out of reach and impossible, yet seeing the hope in your eyes sparked a light of optimism she hasn’t felt in years. “maybe one day, and we’ll do everything you mentioned and more… even if we are hunted down by the tva the entire time…”

[yelenasdiary]

One Big Surprise

Pairing: Florence Pugh X Fem! Reader.

Summary: Florence has a surprise to end a perfect evening after a big event.

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: None

Type: Fluff

Author Comments: This is a request from my old blog.

“Y/n you’re next!” the assistant called over to you as the make-up artist finished their touch-ups. You took a deep breath and made your way to the curtain. It didn’t matter how many runways you’ve done; you still would get nervous to model the wonderful clothing. It was mostly the photographers that made you nervous, they had to get the perfect shots for advertising. Despite the nerves, you loved this. The energy, the other women you worked with and the thrill you got out of it. 

Every fashion show was special to you, a statement, a trendsetter. But tonight, was more special, your wife, the woman who still gave you butterflies after so many years was in the front row of tonight’s show. As soon as the curtain shifted you made your entrance to the catwalk your eyes met hers and suddenly any nerves you entered with, faded away. She sat at the end of the catwalk with a warm and comforting smile was you did your thing. It didn’t matter how many times she came to your shows, she still made you feel like you were the only woman in the room. Nothing else mattered to you in the moment. All you saw was her with flashes of light behind her. 

Once the show was over, Florence waited for you backstage with a bottle of wine and flowers. “You were amazing darling” she smiled as you approached her. She kissed you softly before handing you the flowers and wine. “Thank you” you smiled at her. There was something a little different in her vibe tonight. She took a minute longer admiring you than she usually did, her cheeks seemed pinker, her eyes sparkled brighter, and her smile lasted longer. “Would like a picture honey, it’s last longer” you joked, stating you noticed her admiring you. “Oh shush, can’t I just admire my wife?” she could help but smile. “Are you hungry?” she asked. Nodding lightly, “starving” you replied. “Goodie, I made us reservations” she took your hand gently. “Baby, it’s late, the kids will be waiting for us,” you said looking at the time. “It’s okay, the babysitter said she’d be happy to watch them until we got home” Florence’s smile made it hard for you to say anything, “Well then, should we do dinner?” you kissed her cheek as she nodded. 

Dinner was no different, you sat there right to read her mind, but her beauty always had a way of distracting you, the way she would scrunch her nose whenever you made her laugh was one of your favourite things. “How is everything?” the waiter came over with a bottle of red. “It’s lovely, thank you” you smiled at them. “Can I offer you a glass of our finest red?” offered the waiter. “No, thank you, I have to drive” Florence shook her head lightly, you took the offer. She was always responsible whenever it came to driving. “Do you want a sip of mine?” you asked her, she shook her head again. “Nothing us, we’ll get pulled over and that’ll be that” her laugh was your favourite song. “If you say so” you smiled. Soon your food arrived. It’s not often that you both got time like this to yourselves anymore. At home awaited your 8-year-old son and 5-year-old daughter, whom you both loved unconditionally. 

“Baby, are you okay? You can’t seem to keep your eyes off me tonight” you asked, making it very obvious you noticed how many stolen looks she was getting of you. “I’m just so proud of you tonight” she smiled “and I may have a surprise for you at home” her smile turned to a smirk. “Honey, what have you done?” your left eyebrow rose. “Nothing, just enjoy your dinner and you’ll find out when we get home” she cut into her food.

The drive home was anything but silent. “Thank you for making tonight so special love” you thanked her, hand in hand as she drove. “You deserve it darling” she smiled, eyes never leaving the road in front of her. “Do you think the kids will be asleep or still waiting for us?” you asked, whenever you and Florence would be late home your kids usually stayed up for as long as they could, just to have you tuck them in and kiss them goodnight. “Well, they did have a big day today, Y/s/n (your son’s name) spent most of the day in the treehouse because y/d/n (your daughter’s name) wouldn’t stop playing her ukulele!” she chuckled. “My poor baby” you laughed. 

You and Florence quietly entered your home, not waking the kids in case they were on the sofa curled up. You placed your flowers in a vase and the wine on the countertop before sneaking upstairs to check on the kids while Florence paid the babysitter. You smiled to yourself when you found your daughter asleep on the floor in her brothers’ room. They were close, your daughter adored her older brother, if she wasn’t playing with her toys she was mucking around with him. You walked quietly into y/s/n’s room and tucked him in, kissing his forehead before whispering goodnight. “Look at her” Florence whispered from the doorway as you carefully picked y/d/n up from the floor. You carried her to her bed while Florence whispered her goodnights to y/s/n then joined you in your daughter’s room. You both quietly said your goodnights to her before also leaving a kiss on her forehead, clothing her bedroom door slightly. 

“So, what’s this surprise you were telling me about?” you asked Florence as you grabbed 2 glasses and popped open the wine bottle Florence got you. “Well,” Florence said as she entered the kitchen, “oh none for me darling” she added. You look up at her and placed the bottle back on the countertop “Is everything okay? You’re kind of starting to worry me” you spoke in a confused tone. “Here,” she said softly as she pulled her hands out from behind her back and handed you a pregnancy test. You looked down and saw the 2 pink lines, look back at Flo, “You’re pregnant?!” you asked said a smile. She nodded excitingly. You walked over to her and kissed her passionately, “Surprise baby” Florence whispered between kisses. You placed your hand on her stomach, knowing the baby is the size of a poppy seed you smiled again knowing your family just grew bigger. “Y/d/n is going to be so conflicted” you spoke, causing a quiet laugh out of both of you. “If she’s anything like me, it’s going to be a very fun few months” Florence added, referring to when she found out her mother was pregnant with Raffie. “Oh please, she’s is a mini-you and you love it” you kissed her cheek while lightly rubbing your thumb over her stomach, “Y/s/n will finally be able to read his comics in peace once this jelly bean arrives” Florence stroked your face lightly, “Nah, I think he'll be all over them like he was when we told him about Y/d/n”. 

Florence kissed you softer than normal, “How did we get so lucky? Remember when we thought that our chances of IFV working would only happen once?” she wrapped her arms around your neck, “now look at us” you look at her, “2, soon to be 3” you placed your hands on her waist, pulling her closer to you. “I love you so much” she sang before kissing you once more.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145  | @sophie-xox | @observeowl | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @sophie-xox | @fluffyblanketgecko | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @blue-serendipityy | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @livresjaunes | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | @shibugs | 

[specialagentlokitty]

Rossi x Male!reader - my everything

Imagine Rossi coming back to the BAU with a husband so when Derek or someone makes a joke about a new potential wife Rossi is just like "naw im done with women I have a husband now" and obviously after he tells them they have to have a family dinner where they meet Rossi's husband who is really shy but is SUPER big on physical touch and words of affirmation.... 👀 like reader is just touching Rossi in any possible way while telling him how much he loves him and how strong and BEAUTIFUL he is👀👀👀 - Anon💜

Rossi had once again glanced down at his phone on the jet, smiling a little bit as he saw your name pop up on the screen.

You hadn’t talked much throughout the case, though you loved messaging him you wanted him to prioritise work, so he wouldn’t always message you when they were on the way home.

That way you knew when he was coming back and it was also a way of him giving you the all clear to message him.

You: I think we should get a dog

Rossi rolled his eyes slightly.

Rossi: absolutely not, because then you’ll want another and we’d end up with a whole rescue.

He went to set his phone down only for it to chime again, this time Derek looked up, pushing his headphones down.

“Alright that’s the five time in the space of three minutes your phones gone off, usually you stay away from it.” he said.

JJ and Emily glanced up at the two.

“He’s right, we’ve never seen you on your phone so much.” JJ said.

“Do you have another wife Dave? Because I thought you learned your lesson about this.” Hotch smirked.

Rossi chuckled, putting his phone into his blazer and he held his hands up in defence.

“No, no wife. Believe me I’ve definitely learned my lesson about marrying women.”

“So, spill, tell us everything because you know Garcia is an easily find out.” Emily smirked.

“Is it a new woman?” Derek grinned.

Rossi chuckled a little bit, shaking his head at them all.

“No, I’m quite finished with women now. I am quite happy with my husband whom is waiting for me at home.”

There was the sound of a few things being dropped.

“Husband?!” Everybody yelled.

Immediately they were all crowding around him, Derek being Garcia up on the laptop so she could get involved in the conversation as well.

“How did we not know you had a husband?” Reid asked.

“While at work we both agreed it would be best if I didn’t wear our wedding band on my ring finger, just for safety.”

Rossi reached into the pocket of his blazer, pulling out a small thin box, and inside was a simple yet elegant wedding band, and he slipped it on.

“How long have you been married?!” Garcia squealed.

“Yes Dave, how long?” Hotch asked.

“Two years and counting.”

Rossi had to carry on answering the bombardment of questions he was getting since there was nowhere for him to hide.

And as the jet began its decent he spoke up.

“Come to my house this weekend, I would like to introduce you all to (Y/N). He is shy, and he can be rather nervous around people.” Rossi said.

They all quickly agreed, and when he got home Rossi told you about the dinner before anything else.

You didn’t have to stay for the whole dinner if you didn’t want to, he was happy for you to just meet each other and for you to wonder away.

But you preferred to be near him, so while he was in the kitchen cooking, you were taking a shower, and getting ready to meet everybody.

You didn’t want to meet them all one by one, that would be awkward and make it harder for you to find time to be with Rossi, so you waited for them all to be there.

Once Derek finally turned up Rossi came to the bedroom, walking over to you he placed his hands on the side of your face and kissed your forehead.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” You smiled.

Rossi stood up, letting you interlock your fingers with his and he led you to the kitchen.

You were quickly introduced to everybody, and you stood next to Dave while you listened to them talk.

You glanced behind you, shuffling to the right and little bit to put your back against his while he was cooking.

“Are you alright?” Rossi asked.

You hummed a little bit.

“I’m good thank you, you look really handsome in that shirt, I think you should get more that colour.”

Rossi looked at his dark blue shirt.

“You think?”

You hummed again.

“I like it.”

you spun around, planting a kiss to his shoulder before going to get a glass of water.

Grabbing your water, you made your way back over to him, placing your head against his arm while he spoke to his team.

“So what is it about our lovely Rossi that caught your eye?” Garcia asked.

You smiled to yourself.

“I saw him every week at a quiet bar, and I just thought he was really handsome…”

“Aw, really?” JJ asked.

You smiled a little more nodding your head.

Rossi was moved behind you to do something but he kept your hand in his as he did.

“Yeah… he was just the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.. like.. the ancients romans and Greeks would’ve made statues about him… poets would’ve written stories about him to be stores forever in time…”

Everybody smiled softly as they listened to you.

“I love him, and no song or poem will ever be enough for me to be able to describe how I really feel about him…”

“That’s really beautiful.” Emily smiled.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Hotch asked.

You nodded softly, turning around to look at Rossi and your eyes immediately softened.

Your heart melted as you watched him, every time you laid eyes on him.

The team went back to talking among themselves and you walked over, wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his back.

“I love you so much Dave…”

Rossi placed a hand over yours.

“I love you too…” he whispered back.

You smiled to yourself, just staying there while he was cooking, only moving if you had to, or to go help somebody with something.

But you always found your way back to his side, you always found your way back under his arms or near him.

And neither of you would have it any other way

[calqlate]

RE: LOVE & LIFE | THREE

— THOSE WHO SHARE THE MEMORY

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

PAIRING(S): zhongli x f! reader + diluc x f! wife! reader

SUMMARY: As the wife of the famous big shot in the wine industry, you have everything you could ever ask for — a beautiful mansion, endless wealth, servants at your beck and call... However, you lack the one thing you yearn for: love. With your beloved husband neglecting you and being stuck in a loveless marriage, you decide to end it all, only to be stopped by a man whom you have never met before, and who also coincidentally happens to be your soulmate. In addition, there just might seem to be more than what meets the eye in regards to your peculiar soulmate, and you just might have to find that out for yourself.

CW(S)/TW(S): contains mentions of suicide attempts

TAGLIST (italicised blogs are unable to be tagged, pls dm me with your updated username): @crescentmoonnn + @deeomi + @esthelily + @holaseniorahoe + @loving-august + @mshope16 + @needsleep3000 + @nerdiel-has-no-braincells + @saintbernardthethird + @seyboo + @thelonelyarchon

A/N: apologies for the wait, uni has been kicking my ass (i'm in my final year of bachelor's rn! wahoo!) which made my brain go to a stalemate for a while. bUTTT i've recently finished tale of the nine-tailed which caused my brain to spur into action again (everyone say thanku to lee dongwook)! without further ado, pls enjoy!

You were presently seated in the Third-Round Knockout, a Liyuen restaurant which was famed for its gorgeous dishes which had a mouth-watering taste. Zhongli was seated diagonally across you to your left and Ajax in front of you. It was an odd combination, really, having a meal together with your business associate and your soulmate in a fancy, high-end restaurant.

From the corner of your eye, you notice Zhongli's direct gaze on you. It was zeroed in on you, making it seem like he was scrutinising every square inch of your face, and yet it made you feel warm all over, making you feel... embarrassed, somehow? You could only take small sips out of your cup of tea, careful as to not burn your tongue.

(Your tongue, or your cheeks, either one was applicable in this situation.)

"Are you familiar with Mr. Zhongli's practice, Mrs. Ragnvindr?"

Ajax's voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"I'm afraid not." Oh no, was your mind preoccupied with other thoughts while Ajax was talking? "Could you elaborate on it?"

"I should let Mr. Zhongli do the talking instead," Ajax said, "It's better for him to explain his job scope."

"I am a consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour," Zhongli spoke, "And I simply give people suggestions on how to proceed with their funeral preparations and which packages would best suit their needs. We have a variety of packages for everyone's needs, thanks to Director Hu's business-savvy mindset."

"I wouldn't have expected you to be a funeral parlour consultant," you said, smiling candidly at him, "If anything, I thought you would be an art museum director of sorts."

"He does look the part, doesn't he?" Ajax said with a laugh, "I once mistook him as a CEO of some sort the first time I met him."

"Oh, I understand what you mean," you laughed, "It's in the way he carries himself."

"And the fancy choice of words, too," Ajax chimed in, "That's not all: he's so unusually knowledgeable about every topic!"

"You flatter me," Zhongli shook his head with a smile, "I simply have a good memory."

"Excellent memory, you mean," Ajax corrected him almost immediately, "Anyone would kill for that kind of brainpower. Remember the time you gave advice to that one Fontanian guy who pivoted into film-making? He immediately made a whole lot of money with his debut film!"

You raised your eyebrows. If Zhongli was even adept at advising a novice filmmaker, perhaps he had some good suggestions for your new business plan you had in mind.

"Mr. Zhongli," the dark-haired man immediately turned his head towards your direction as soon as you called his name, "If you would be so kind, I would like to hear your opinion on my business plan."

He straightened his back slightly and interlaced his fingers together, interest piqued as his entire body was turned to face you as he spoke, "Sure, I am all ears."

"This is the business plan I had in mind, which is in collaboration with the Fatui Network..." You launched into your spiel, mapping out the business plan you had in mind (which all of the details had already been discussed with Ajax beforehand), and Zhongli listened attentively. After you were done speaking, there was a brief moment of silence.

"This is indeed a well thought-out plan, but could I make a few minor suggestions?" Zhongli asked.

You nodded, "Please feel free to do so, the floor is yours."

Zhongli began to speak his mind, pointing out what particular flaws and loopholes your business plan might have concerning your consumer base in a respectful and straightforward manner, and what particular negative repercussions might be incurred. You thought Ajax was bluffing when he said Zhongli was insightful; Zhongli was pretty much a wise sage speaking with all the knowledge Teyvat could possibly even offer. If he were a movie character, he would be the wise old pilgrim living at the top of some snowy, out-of-reach mountain that the main character had to climb for months just to reach him.

"...That is all I have to offer, and you might want to take my thoughts with a grain of salt," Zhongli concluded his verbalised thoughts, picking up his teacup again.

"No, what you've just said makes complete sense," you shook your head, "I'll adjust a couple of points on my end. Thank you for your insight, it was really helpful!"

As if right in cue, the food that Ajax had ordered arrived and was served on the table.

"Let's dig in, shall we?" Ajax grinned, and you mirrored his smile and dug your chopsticks into your bowl of noodles as a response.

Ajax left as soon as brunch concluded, scurrying off to pay for the meal first and apologising for leaving first due to urgent business matters.

So that left you and Zhongli alone, standing outside the restaurant.

"Are you heading back to the hotel, Mrs. Ragnvindr?" Zhongli asked, hands situated round his back.

The sun was shining in the sky, but it was not unbearably hot. On the contrary, it was warm and inviting, perfect for an afternoon walk.

You shook your head, "I was planning to go for a stroll. Would you like to join me?"

The man smiled as his eyes softened, "It would be my pleasure."

You and Zhongli walked along the roads of Liyue's capital, taking in the bustling chatter of people and the busy city life. Vehicles were whirring past the both of you, and the rays of the sun ricochetted off the glass panels of the buildings. Somehow, doing something as simple as going on a promenade was much more fulfilling than doing work back home.

"Oh, look! Roadside stalls!" your eyes brightened as you spotted a couple of stalls set up by the road, with old women managing them and selling a variety of trinkets. Without hesitation, you made a beeline towards the stalls, eyes scanning through the products on display. Zhongli joined you soon after, peering past your shoulder to peruse through the items on sale.

"It's nice to see you, Zhongli," a welcoming, gentle voice spoke, causing both you and Zhongli to look up. It was an old woman with her silver hair tied up into a low bun, and a pair of round-rimmed spectacles perched on her nose.

"The pleasure is mine, Street — ahem, Madam Ping," Zhongli returned the greeting.

"Ah, and who's this young lady you've brought along with you?" Madam Ping's eyes shifted over to you, and for a split second, you could see some sort of surprised expression in her eyes. However, it was fleeting and was quickly replaced by a warm gaze and a complementary, friendly smile.

"She is an... acquaintance of mine," Zhongli explained.

"It's nice to meet you," you smiled and gave a little bow (It's customary in Liyuen tradition for younger people to bow in greeting to the older folk, you remembered), then refocused your gaze on the items on display, "You have wonderful wares on display, ma'am."

"Take your pick, child," Madam Ping smiled, then bent over to whisper, "As Zhongli's friend, you're entitled to take one for free."

Your eyes widened into the size of saucers, "Oh, no, I can't do that! You're running a business here; I wouldn't want to make you lose any profit!"

"I insist," Madam Ping shook her head, then nodded towards Zhongli, "He doesn't have a whole lot of friends, so I'm happy to know he's made a new one. I guess you can say this is a little bribe from me to convince you to stay friends with him."

While you really thought you should not be imposing and picking out something for free, you knew you would offend this sweet old lady if you turned her offer down. With a smile and dejected shake of your head, you said, "Alright, then."

Madam Ping brightened almost immediately and you went about the stall, browsing through the wares, discreetly looking at the price tags and trying to pick the cheapest one so that you would not be the first step into driving this poor woman into bankruptcy (or whatever it would be).

Madam Ping shifted over to Zhongli and lowered her voice down to a whisper, "So, it seems you've found her again in this life."

Zhongli hummed.

"This is her last life, isn't it?"

Zhongli nodded, a bittersweet smile taking over his features.

Madam Ping studied his facial expression before speaking again, "You don't seem that happy to know that she's one step closer to reuniting with you."

Zhongli shook his head, "I am beyond delighted to know that she is not too far from reincarnating again and spending her next life forever with me, but..." Zhongli frowned before continuing, "I cannot help but wonder if that is exactly what she wants in her next life is all."

Madam Ping mirrored Zhongli's expression, but in a curious manner, "What makes you say that?"

"I was never her lover in any of her past incarnations," Zhongli explain in a slow manner, as if recalling an archaic tale from long ago, "I had always been a friend, a companion to her. In one of those lives, she told me that she never wanted to live her life like that, having me by her side."

He could remember it as clear as day. The day he saved you from drowning, his body completely drenched in seawater. The fabric of his clothes was clinging to his skin and his hair was tousled and damp. Your skin was pale and your lower lip was trembling, but most importantly, your eyes were filled with tears and you were hitting his body repeatedly.

"Why did you save me?" you wept as your fists struck his chest weakly, "You should've just left me to die!"

"I would never want to see you give up on yourself," he whispered as he swept a stray lock of hair out of your face.

You lowered your head and gripped his clothes, "Did it never occur to you that this was not the life that I wanted?" You raised your head to look at him directly in the eye, a sort of sad fury burning behind your eyes, "In this life, or in any other life, I've never wanted you by my side."

It was a painful yet memorable moment that haunted him every waking hour. Perhaps he had been wrong to even make that contract in the first place. All of this happened because of his selfish desire to see you again, to meet you again, to just stand by your side for another day. He had never once thought about what you wanted. And so, that day woke him up from his self-centered fantasy and caused him to question all his choices. Maybe he should have just let you leave and not hold you back. Perhaps that was what you wanted in the very beginning.

Madam Ping frowned, "I'm sure that's not what she meant. You know she's got a tender spot for you."

Zhongli lowered his head and stared at his gloved hands, "I hope that holds true, Streetward Rambler."

"Ma'am! I've found something!" your voice plucked the two old friends out of their little bubble of conversation, and both of them turned to look at you. You were waving at them, a smile in place as your other hand was holding something small in your palm. You looked so carefree and happy, and Zhongli could only hope you would stay this way forever.

"Don't worry too much, Rex Lapis," Madam Ping whispered as she gave the man a gentle pat on the arm, "I know she wouldn't blame you for your choices."

As the old woman walked off to talk to you and package your procured item into a small wooden box, Zhongli could only hope and pray that Madam Ping's words rang true.

[glitcheslikeslego]

idk what to title this that isn't the name i'd give this if i do make it a full fanfic but here's a small oneshot/intro thing to my new ninjago oc :3

tw/cw: pregnancy, giving birth

Harumi remembers her baby sister's birth as clear as day. 

She was young and new to the royal court of Ninjago, with the memories of the Great Devourer fresh in her mind. Because of this, she anxiously watched as her new father, the Emperor, paced outside of his shared bedroom with her new mother, the Empress. 

She refused to call them her new parents. 

She could barely make out the screams of the Empress and the words of encouragement from the midwives as she gave birth to her sister, whom she was lucky to name. 

At first, she was apprehensive about it. Names hold meaning, as her old teachers once said. Harumi meant “clear and beautiful spring”, which she was anything but. 

But Mayumi means ”truth and reason”, a name fitting for a girl she believed would become a beacon of truth for all of Ninjago. 

She was so caught up in her thoughts of her soon-to-be sister that she just barely missed the Emperor rushing into the master bedroom of the palace. 

She sat for another short while, this time she was alone, letting her worries run rampant. What if something bad happens again? What if she gets taken away from me like my parents?

Harumi shook her head, ridding herself of her thoughts. There was no way she could think like that, not now! Not while everything’s so close to becoming perfect for her. 

“Harumi?” She looked up, seeing the Emperor peering at her from inside the room. He beckoned her over. “Come on, don’t be shy to meet your sister.”

She felt her heart leap as she quickly yet quietly made her way over to the inside. Her hands played with the fabric of her fancy kimono as she watch the midwives care for her sister and her mother. 

“Ah, Princess, hello.” The midwife caring for the Empress bowed out of courtesy and respect, and the Empress smiled tiredly, Harumi could spot the dark circles under her eyes. 

“Harumi.” She said in a raspy voice, happy and relieved to see her. Harumi felt her throat tighten ever so slightly at the sight. 

She was about to respond, say something to her or hold her outstretched hand, when the baby, her sister, began crying. 

All the attention was brought to the midwives as they all fretted over her as they finished cleaning her up and swaddling her. 

Wrapped in emerald green cloth, Mayumi was returned to her mother gently. The empress was shown how to hold her properly, and when Mayumi was placed in her arms, she couldn’t help but smile as tears began running down her cheeks. 

The Emperor couldn’t have been more proud, looking at his wife and newest daughter with his own tears pricking the corners of his eyes. 

Harumi watched in silent awe at Mayumi’s crying, scrunched up face slowly began softening as she relaxed, feeling comforted by her mother. Her cheeks flushed bright red as she sniffled in her sleep. 

Carefully, she held a hand out, as if asking for permission. The Empress nodded at her, and now with the go ahead, Harumi gently placed a hand on the baby, patting where her stomach would be under all the cloth. In reaction, the baby let out a tiny sneeze. 

The royals chuckled at the cute sight, while Harumi only had one thing in mind. 

She wasn’t going to let any ninja hurt her baby sister, ever.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Domesticity Series Part 1: The Beginning

Summary: Being the only one seeming to notice William’s ptsd, he realizes that his feelings from the past may be the answer to his future when you come to his rescue.

warnings: depictions of ptsd, scenes from the movie, insecure william, trauma, lies, just overall William needs love and you are there.

All the small talk and music in the room stopped abruptly, catching everyone’s attention.

“Now why would you turn that off, do you not like that silly old song?” Vera snickered, completely oblivious to her husband’s struggle as she was too intwined dancing with the poet whom you’d known to have slept with her while William was away.

It was a shame, William was always a loving, gentle, respectful man that deserved all the kindness, all the sympathy in the world. If only his wife could see in him what you did. She merely watched him come back a broken man yet still found the audacity to conversate and be friends with not a man but a boy with an ego the size of the planet whom she had an affair with right in front of his face.

“Thank you.” William finally spoke from where he was standing against the counter, his knuckles turning back to their normal shade as he released his grip on the wooden surface.

Vera turned, finally looking his way like an utter bimbo, completely oblivious of the fact William’s mind was rotting every singular day, even when he’s asleep from what he had partaken in during the war.

Having endless flashbacks being caused by small triggering factors. He felt as if he were an outcast, still struggling to find his way back to a normal routine. It hurt him immensely that other peoples lives including his wife just moved forward and he was stuck at the bottom of this endless pit of hell. They’d never understand and she’d never make an effort, making him believe she just wanted him for money, surely not love.

He glanced toward you once more, nodding his head in sincerity that you noticed. That’s all he ever wanted from his wife, but then again her wants weren’t anything like his.

He did always think you were quite beautiful, the shyness and humbleness always held an attraction to him, and you were always very kind.

“Well I- I guess I’ll get dinner on the table then.” She stuttered, walking awkwardly between the two of you feeling out of place. She recognized that look, his blue eyes fixated on you from time to time even when you weren’t looking. That’s exactly what she did with Dylan. 

~

The sound of multiple gunshots scared you out from the deep slumber you were in. When you heard Vera yelling outside, attempting to convince William to go back in the house, you knew what he must’ve found out. The poor man’s head was all over the place, feeling like he had risked his life for his country and a woman that did not love him how he loved her. Living in complete turmoil not knowing if he’d survive to see another day, and he wished he hadn’t, he really did.

Scrambling out of bed you quickly fastened your robe, heading toward the house of misery as you liked to call it.

When you approached the door, the sound of the rifle echoed through the atmosphere, it was then you realized you would not stand there, and allow William to stoop to their level. 

Walking into the home, Vera was to your right, hands covering her mouth in disbelief as she finally shut up, seeing the meltdown her husband has been having, seeing that he was finally snapping like a small twig under the feet of poor excuses of human beings.

“How can you just stand there? As if everything is alright? Don’t you care?” Dylan’s wife stared longly at him with her tear stained face, confused and too frightened to say anything.

“Your husband and my wife? Rowatt isn’t even mine, they’ve been lying to our faces.” William stood there distraught, a broken down man who had never felt so alone, so heartbroken. Tears rolled down your cheeks effortlessly not only for him but for Dylan’s wife. As of the moment it was clear she didn’t know of the affair when she took a glance of utter betrayal toward Vera with her bloodshot eyes.

The sound of a child crying in the other room echoed through the silent house, but it didn’t seem to phase him.

“William?” You spoke ever so softly, barely moving a muscle as you didn’t want to scare him or make him believe you meant any harm.

Your voice seemed to be the only one he listened to.

Turning his head slowly, hands still wrapped around the gun, Vera was taken aback at how easily his attitude had changed, like the flip of a switch just from the sound of your voice.

“Listen to my voice, alright?” He nodded, gulping back the fear and anxiety, his anger simmering down like the flame of a cigarette.

Noticing the shift in his gun, his grip loosening, Vera lunged to grab the weapon from him until you shot daggers into her unfaithful eyes, daring her to even touch him. Backing away, not wanting anymore trouble she excused herself outside once realizing the hypnotizing effect you had on William, realizing she could never handle him with such care the way you did.

Cupping his cheeks, your forehead pressed against his, reaching for his shaking hand settling it upon your chest where your heart lay. “Do you feel that William?” He nodded once again, his breathing becoming more steady with each passing second.

“My heart beats for you. It always has and always will. Please come home with me. The screaming child means you no harm, he needs his mother, just like I need you. The longer you hear the screaming, the longer you will experience traumatic effects from the war. Please, let’s go back to my house.” Almost instantly, the wounded solider fell into your touch, his head nuzzling into the warmth of your neck, needing to be closer to the woman who brought him so much comfort, so much love without once caring what others may have thought.

He began to weep into your chest, clutching onto your soaked clothes for dear life, dropping the gun onto the floor. Dylan and his wife stay staring, still frightened to move, the sod of a poet disgusted you, the way he smirked like he had finally one his true prized possession, the lovely Vera.

Putting his arm over your shoulder, you picked up his gun from the floor to ensure the others would not take his firearm that he owned before walking him to your house.

~

He had calmed down once he was away from everyone, just alone with you. You had seated him in the kitchen, insisting that he eat something, even if it was small and grabbed him a blanket from the living room sofa. He didn’t hesitate to wrap the warm fabric around his trembling, frigid body, nodding to you gratefully. 

He was almost too stunned to speak and didn’t know where to start on how grateful he was for you. The moonlight shimmered in your hair, his eyes fixated on every step you took while he pondered and took a breath before speaking.

“I don’t even know where to begin to thank you. You were always such a genuine, kind-hearted girl and- and I’ve always had a feeling deep within my heart that I was with the wrong woman.” Carrying over his cup of tea and a plate of graham crackers, you sat beside him brushing his hair back to reveal his uncannily beautiful face. 

He was a damaged man, and you were a strong woman, willing to make any sacrifice for him, and his injured soul. William needed love, he needed to know that he isn’t hard to love.

“William, you don’t have to thank me. I can assure you those bastards don’t deserve you or the love you so willingly gave. It angered me, and saddened me to see them take advantage of you and I want you to know you mean so much more to me than you could ever comprehend. I’ve sort’ve always loved you. Now please eat.” He followed your instructions, and to his surprise you made his favorite tea, adding just the right amount of honey and sugar. You stayed seated, sipping your own cup, pulling a book to read to him. It was a love story, about a man who grew up without a family, and a woman that was independent and believed in equality. William couldn’t help but notice the similarities between your own lives. Every word, every annunciation, and the soft, adoring tone of your voice had him feeding and listening intently to every word, even when you stuttered or mispronounced a word he found it adoringly cute. 

Closing the book, once you finished the chapter, you settled it soundly back in its spot in the corner of your table, realizing William had finished his tea and crackers.

“Do- do you mind if I stay with you tonight?” His eyes scanned the floor In embarrassment, causing you to take gentle hold of his hand, brushing your fingers over his wounded skin.

“William, I wouldn’t love anything more. Come.” You stood up, and walked him to your room. He felt out of place being in your private area but when you padded the mattress, he took the hint that it was okay for him to sleep beside you.

“Can- can I take off my clothes. It’s quite warm in here and my clothes are still wet but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He stood awkwardly on the other side of the bed, glancing around unable to make eye contact with you. He didn’t want to scare you or think he’d take advantage of you in any way.

“Of course. That’s alright.” After asking once more, he shed himself of his clothes, deciding to stay in just his gray short-sleeve and underwear.

Taking his side of the bed, the subtle cinnamon smell of your belongings brought a strong comfort to him, and he nuzzled his head into the soft pillow. When you turned the light off, William lay with his back to you facing the wall. He wished he could kiss you, he was beyond grateful for all you’ve done and was very hesitant, he didn’t want you to kick him out, but you were thinking the same thing as you stared at his muscular back.

“William?” He turned around to face you, his blue eyes still finding someway to shine in the darkened room. “Are you alright?”

“Kiss me, you fool.” Slowly, he moved closer toward your body, his hand gliding over the delicate skin of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours. The moment fully sinking in that he did indeed marry the wrong woman. He had never kissed someone where it felt so right in an instant, it felt like an electric current was moving through his veins. Your lips were very soft, almost angelic like, you kissed him with such fragility and patience, not wanting the moment to end. Tracing your hands behind his neck, you deepened the kiss, pulling him against your body. Needing to taste more of him, your tongue delve into him with grace, skimming over his. He tasted of honey and cinnamon, such an inviting taste, so magnetic and alluring. His mind was swirling in every direction and for some reason he felt closer to you in such a short amount of time than he had ever felt with Vera.

Something about you just felt so right, William was unable to break away from your velvet lips, taking much enjoyment in the silk, smooth feeling of your tongue and how you tasted of cherries and rum. This was somewhere he wanted to stay, ignoring the sound of Dylan and Vera arguing outside the house as his lips spread into a wide smile, finally feeling like he had found a home and a future wife to love him whole. As far as he was concerned Vera was history, especially since he found out Rowatt wasn’t his, he found no reason for him to need to stay, but he was determined to take things slow as a love like your was much too fragile, and difficult to find. He wanted to enjoy every second with you, and he vowed to himself, he would be the man for you.

Falling asleep in his arms, you fell asleep with a warm smile on your face, the fluttering beat of your heart being held purely in his hand and his only.

[stabbydragon]

*clears throat* Can we just talk about how unfair it was that Cordelia was the one who got to kill Tatiana? Like there were a million other people who were way more qualified.

I’m pretty sure most people, like me, were rooting for Grace. After all, she was the one that Tatiana hurt most by physically abusing her, making her into a weapon, forcing her to brainwash James which made everyone she cares about mad at her, etc. Not to mention that Christopher, one of her only friends, the only person who defended her, and the one who encouraged her to pursue her passion for science, had just been MURDERED by Tatiana! And like, Grace was RIGHT THERE with a knife to Tatiana’s throat! Then CORDELIA had to come and ruin everything by summoning Lillith! WTF!?

Jesse was another person who had been hurt by Tatiana. This bitch, who he thought cared about him despite her flaws, as a mother should, SOLD HIM TO BELIAL so he could be possessed and forced to murder people which he would never do under any circumstances of his own free will! The guilt the poor boy must have gone through because of this bitch! Although personally, I don’t think he would be capable of murder, but it would have been better than fucking CORDELIA.

Also, the idea of either Jesse or Grace doing it to avenge their sibling? 😭

My second choice after Grace would be Lucie, who would be furious both because of Jesse being possessed, and because she had just found out that Tatiana had been the one to ruin James and Cordelia’s marriage, causing both her brother and parabatai a lot of pain. It would have set the scene for a fascinating conversation between her and Jesse regarding how they both felt about Tatiana’s death (the same is true for Grace) because I need more Ghostwriter scenes. Also, if she killed her partially on Grace’s behalf, it would better showcase what could have been a beautiful dynamic that desperately needs to be explored further. I need these too to become besties immediately! Lucie, unlike her boyfriend, totally deserved to be a morally ambiguous character. She had so much potential for stabbiness, so where’s all the stabbiness? It’s so unfair that she never gets to stab someone ONCE because she’s a main character and therefore needs to be morally perfect even though people who grew as rich as she did are the ones most likely to be evil. Besides, she could have ordered a ghost to do it while Lucie herself was far away, giving her an alibi, and any witnesses would not have seen the ghost. Honestly my preference would be if Lucie and Grace teamed up to do it together in Jesse’s name.

EVEN FUCKING JAMES a would have been a better option, not that I would like it much. He was the one who was brainwashed since he was fourteen after all. He was the one who kept on accidentally breaking his wife’s heart because of the gracelet.

While Cordelia was still hurt by Tatiana’s actions, she was farther removed from the situation. But because sHe’S tHe PrOtAgOnIsT, she had to be the one to do it. Not even of her own volition, but because she was being manipulated by a greater demon. Imagine all of your protagonists being so heroic and morally sound that they can’t even neutralize someone as twisted and dangerous and inhumane and this bitch without being physically magically controlled by Lillith herself. Is there anything more boring?

And what really makes me angry is that she finally gave in due to the death of one Christopher Lightwood, a character with whom she had no established dynamic. If this was CC’s plan all along, she could have made it so they had at least one single fucking conversation alone??? If the main catalyst for Tatiana’s death was Kit’s murder, then practically ANY OTHER CHARACTER a would have been better. Cecily and Gabriel and the others were in Idris but, once again, there’s Grace, Lucie, James, Thomas, Anna, Matthew, etc. Hell, even Rosamund Wentworth, who arrives pretty soon after Kit’s death, knew him longer than Cordelia!

*Ahem* Thank you for listening to my PSA

[sunilys2]

"THE PROPHECY" Kim Sunoo [ Chapter 3 ]

Materlist

Pairing: cursed!Sunoo × godness!reader

Synopsis: On a birthbed, a second-born baby of the cis male gender is cursed according to his village's beliefs. A pact is made by his parents in search of prosperity and glory, they believed that the divine goddess would bring to the baby the end of the catastrophes caused by the curse, good omen and carnal luxuries from the reaching of age, condemning his son to a wonderful life until the inevitable destiny, a peaceful end on his deathbed. However, in every agreement there are two sides and some consequences.

Genre: fantasy, strangers to lovers, romance.

Warnings: mention of religion and beliefs, pacts, curses, angst.

Note: grammatical errors, english is not my native language.

As stunned as Sunoo's parents were, they couldn't do anything about it. The boy's coming of age birthday is today, there's no way to change that.

After the appearance of the goddess, they accepted their fate and decided to enjoy the last moments with their beloved son, pretending that nothing had changed in their lives, as if he wouldn't leave soon.

The birthday would be celebrated in the Kim family's humble home, everything was ready and beautiful. The boy was as excited as ever, happy to be able to celebrate another year of life, he helped with the decoration and preparation of the special meal that he would enjoy with his family on this important day.

- looks delicious! - he laughed sweetly, sitting at the table, admiring his small feast.

His parents smiled slightly, his sister was happy, his grandparents too. And especially Sunoo, he was radiant tonight.

- my beloved grandson is becoming a handsome adult. -His grandmother said proudly and the boy laughed.

- everything looks so good, thank you for waiting for me for dinner, I think I was late. - a vibrant and unfamiliar female voice was heard, everyone looked towards her, a pretty girl who was standing in front of the wide-open entrance door.

Everyone was silent, Mrs. Kim remained static, with wide eyes and a cold body, yet the unknown woman sating in an empty chair.

- who are you? - asked Sunoo, he was really curious. Why was this beautiful woman, whom he had never seen before, there to celebrate his birthday?

- my name is ___, it's a pleasure, sweet Sunoo. Congratulations, happy birthday. - you smiled sweetly.

- thank you very much... - his voice came out as a whisper, his cheeks pink like flowers in spring.

Silence takes over again, smiling, you stare at the boy hungrily, without looking away or feeling embarrassed about it. You make him really nervous.

- I thought you would come later...you know, we are celebrating now. - began the mother.

- I decided to join this celebration, after all it is a special date, sweet Sunoo is coming of age. - you decided to look her in the eyes. - I'm not welcome?

- no, it's okay, forgive my wife. - the father interfered.

You stood up, walking slowly around the table, calmly analyzing the expressions of everyone there. You stood behind the boy, smiling at him when he decided to look at you over his shoulder. You touched his silky hair.

- I didn't come to disturb this special moment, I'm also not a monster that will harm Sunoo. - you started.

- I came so that he could get to know me, so that you would know that I am not an evil being, I am not a threat, let that tension go away.

The boy didn't understand, but remained silent as he felt the soft touch of your fingers in his hair.

- look Sunoo, from today onwards you will leave with me, can you understand? I will give you everything you deserve, you will live with me and you will have something completely different from what you have today.

- what do you mean by that...? - he hesitated, a little scared and confused.

- I happen to be in love with you. - you smiled sweetly, when he fell silent, trying to absorb the information. - You were born mine, did you know that? If you don't know, your parents certainly know.

You lowered Sunoo's upper robes, just revealing his shoulder.

- do you know why it has this brand? Because you are sealed with the mark of a covenant. You understand? You were born and soon became my boy, this brand says so.

- how could I be yours...? I am not an object. - he pulled his shirt back, hiding his shoulders, with a nervous look on his face.

- no, it is not an object. You are the sweetest boy I have ever seen in all the millennia I have lived, you are a person, even though you sometimes seem like a treasure... - you calmed him.

- there is a very old prophecy, a pact made by your ancestors, it is something much bigger than you can imagine. Calmly you will be able to understand everything, but peacefully I ask you please, please come with me. Above all, Sunoo family members, let me lead you to happiness. -His eyes shone as you explained yourself.

Everyone was shocked, but they were softened by the brief explanation.

The night seemed to be long, but everything went well.

Right after all this speech, you were able to celebrate the boy's party with his family, you ate and congratulated him.

Her presence there was enough to be strange, but as the minutes passed everything seemed to fall into place. Despite not understanding everything perfectly, Sunoo included you in his celebration as if he already knew you before, he could feel that no matter how strange you were, you were good.

He could tell by looking into your eyes that you were there for something very serious, and also that you wouldn't hurt him.

Sunoo just decided to accept you there, he made you feel that his presence was pleasant and satisfying for him. Something you didn't expect, since you thought it would be completely the opposite.

The celebration was cozy for you, but soon everyone retired and everything was tidy, the end of this day was approaching, after all it was already late at night.

Sunoo's parents hesitated, but they understood that this is what he wanted, he wanted to be able to be alone with you, so they decided to withdraw and let the two of you talk.

- you said you're going to take me away - he starts, looking at you, as you sit in the living room.

- Why would I go with you? And if I went, where would I go? It's suffocating to think that I will have to leave my home.

- I know it seemed scary with the words I used, I apologize. I am a goddess, as I said, and we would go to my divine realm. I need you Sunoo, I've waited so long for this day...

- What do you need me for? I can not understand. - you sigh, blinking your eyes precisely and opening them again.

- to quench my thirst, my desire to have you, to make you mine. I am a hungry and ambitious entity, I recognize. But know that nothing will be bad for you, because I am nothing more than your slave... - you sigh - my love for you only grows, you would be such a good boy for me.

- you want me...? But why? I don't understand!

- I don't understand either, I just feel this way, let me make you my perfect boy, let me fulfill all your desires, you will have everything you want.

- okay, I'm not going to oppose something that's sealed. Just give me time to say goodbye and I'll come with you soon. I really don't like seeing you begging, a goddess shouldn't...

- thank you for accepting - you interrupt him - that makes me very happy. It will be as you wish, you have a working day, now I need to go, good night sweet boy.

You smile sweetly at him, disappearing in the blink of an eye, leaving him alone.

[avaantares]

Re: your idea for that fic where Sparda comes back- any more details or thoughts on how he'd feel about Trish? 👀 I can only imagine how conflicted he'd feel, since she's a construct of Mundus, but has his wife's face, and is also a demon who protects humans, but acts Like That-- how do you think they'd react to each other? I can't imagine she'd be very happy in this situation either...

Ahahaha you have the best timing, because it's 1 AM and I just had a Thing happen and wound up on a 911 call and can't sleep because I'm still waiting for the adrenaline to clear my system, so I turned on my laptop to write and generally distract myself until my pulse rate drops to two digits (it's been almost an hour and it hasn't gone down yet) and lo, there was an Ask about a story! So I'm going to answer right now because it's something to do that isn't worrying about the Thing that just happened, but I apologize in advance if my writing is a little... uh... more jittery than usual. Because *I* sure am.

(For those unfamiliar with the above-referenced fic post, it's here.)

The first letdown would definitely be the worst. Sparda has been trapped in the underworld for decades, and his one thought the whole time has been returning home to his family (as he tells Nero). Then he finds out Red Grave has been destroyed -- and by his own son! -- and he's trying hard to stay calm, but some part of his mind has to be in a spiral because he knows Eva is only human and would be at risk, but can't bear to think that his son would be so irredeemable as to cause harm to come to his own mother, but he also can't imagine that if Eva were alive she would have allowed Vergil to become... whatever he's turned into that he's now destroying cities, and he just goes in ever-widening circles of panic.

He's also starting to process just how long it's been. Nero, his grandson, is already in his mid-to-late 20s (if I'm setting this post-CotFA, he'd be 26 or 27), so Sparda estimates he has likely been imprisoned for some 40 years or more. Human lifespans are short; even if she is alive, Eva could be in her 70s, in the sunset of her life.

And in the middle of all of this fretting and fear and denial, he looks up and he sees her. Eva, young and beautiful and alive, just as he left her. The joy and relief sweep everything else away for one moment...

...and then he feels it. This isn't Eva, but a demon wearing her beloved face. A creature tainted with the essence of Mundus, his archenemy and captor. To Sparda, she is the vilest form of blasphemy -- a mockery of his sainted wife.

(This is not lost on Trish, who has also had to process a little bit of guilt in regard to her resemblance to Eva. See also: CotFA chapter 8)

Sparda cannot tolerate Trish's existence, but he is not yet recovered enough to destroy her outright, which gives Nero and Lady a chance to intervene and keep him from doing any serious damage. Because Nero is the one who freed him (and he's not eager to fight his own descendant), Sparda respects his wishes and stands down, but he's infuriated and fully intends to deal with Trish once he has a better grasp on the present situation -- and has seen his sons, one of whom is apparently friendly with this abomination, according to Nero.

(Nero assumes that "Gramps" only attacked Trish because she's obviously a demon and he's an old demon hunter; he doesn't catch on to Sparda's identity just yet. Trish, for her part, keeps quiet because 1) she never actually met Sparda, assumed Mundus had killed him, and has no idea how the real Sparda could be here now, and 2) she doesn't want to say anything prematurely, since it might get back to Dante and raise his hopes, only to disappoint him if this turns out to be a mere copy of his father.)

Throughout the rest of their underworld mission, Sparda retains his antagonism toward Trish in much the same way that Vergil did, at first -- he can't bring himself to look at her and doesn't want anything to do with her, including working directly alongside her or listening to her suggestions. Though Dante's emotions are running wild after the reunion with his father, he does take a firm stand whenever Sparda lashes out at Trish; he's spent a lot more years of his life with Trish, and while Sparda may be his progenitor, Trish is his family.

Over time, as they continue their quest and ultimately work as a team to take down the semi-resurrected Mundus, Sparda will grudgingly acknowledge that Trish is not evil and respect her fierce loyalty to Dante. It definitely bothers him that Dante is so attached to Trish, because he still sees her as something inherently wrong, but he comes to terms with her existence and no longer feels the need to obliterate her. It still hurts him to look at her sometimes, though.

Though Dante insists she doesn't have to change for anyone, Trish recognizes how hard it is for Sparda to see the face of the woman he loved and has effectively just lost, and has not yet had time or space to grieve. She makes subtle changes to her appearance to set herself apart from Eva: Bold makeup. Statement jewelry. A new hairstyle. The odd splash of color in her hair or outfit. It seems to help, and in the end Sparda comes to regard her as something like Eva's radically disparate twin, rather than an inferior copy.

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Eyyy, it's now 1:45 AM and my pulse rate is finally down to 98! Huzzah!