#Rendering gold is actually awful

[yhwcomeback]

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road! bonus:

[ayrennaranaaldmeri]

the tragedy here is that i love hearing alix wilton regan's voice so listening to ithelia is great but this model is doin fuck all for her performance.

[ryuichirou]

I love how you draw the tweels and Azul. They look so imposing in your art style! I know you love drawing Ignihyde, Octavinelle and Scarabia boys a lot, but I'm curious if you have drawings of the rest of the twst cast as well. I'd love to see everyone in your art style!

Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words. I’m glad you like how I draw the Octa-boys. I’m not even sure which dorm I draw most often, but it has to be either them or Ignihyde haha. But in all honesty, I really love drawing all the characters; even if we don’t care much about them, they are usually still quite pleasant to draw at least once.

Which is why I can actually compile my drawings of pretty much every character in this reply! It’s honestly surprising lol but also not really. I can’t believe it’s been a year since we started drawing and posting twst…

Alright, here we go!

Heartslabyul – wow, I can’t believe I don’t have any coloured Aces that are relatively new… We like Ace a lot, I should probably draw him. And Cater too, to be honest, this is my only coloured sketch with him. I never expected to enjoy drawing these boys as much as I do, to be honest.

Savanaclaw – Leona is the only character I don’t have a proper sketch that is not a commission with lol I’m sorry. But I actually quite like the comms of Leona that I got to draw, so here is one of them! I also really enjoyed drawing Ruggie, I should do it again… And Jack too…

Octavinelle – aw yis yakuza fishies babyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Come on, you know I love these guys lol Whenever I look at them I feel at home. It’s a shame I don’t draw them wearing fedoras (for some reason I’m still intimidated by fedoras), because I love everything about their dorm uniforms.

Scarabia – I also don’t feel like I draw these two often enough, but their uniform is probably the most difficult one to draw, simply because of all the details and prints and gold and accessories. But it’s so worth it!... I also think that Jamil is the prettiest snake in the world.

Pomefiore – it’s stupid how long it took me to find a Rook that doesn’t look creepy in my drawings lol I really love this side of him. I also really enjoy drawing Vil, but whenever I do, I feel intimidated. I just can’t mess him up..! But if the Vil that I drew ends up looking good, I get so emotional that I cry (not a 100% lie)

Ignihyde – picking an Idia and an Ortho out of hundreds of sketches of Idia and Ortho was more challenging that I thought it would be, so I picked these because I still really like their faces and think they’re cute! I also can’t get enough of them… to this day… Their hair, their teeth, everything.

Diasomnia – I feel like whenever I draw these guys we have an urge to make it into an art, this is why we have a lot of finished rendered artworks with them. Their aesthetic is just… super fitting for all kinds of dark and gothic stuff. I also adore drawing their eyes!!! All of them have such pretty eyes.

The teachers – if you feel the urge to laugh at Crowley for only getting a black and white sketch, I encourage you to also laugh at Vargas for not being here at all… I think he is the only character that I’m missing, huh.

Others – bonus round! I actually also have a sketch of Fellow Honest and Gidel but by the time I remembered them I got tired of making this thing lol, and we haven’t watched the event yet anyway, so they’ll get their chance to shine some other time (you can find it on my ko-fi though). Meleanor is also here, and I honestly I would be happy to draw every twst mom at some point… And other minor characters too…

But not the dwarves; screw them (just kidding I might draw them too at some point).

[eldritchelfwriter]

A few Baldurs Gate 3 Fanfics I recommend on AO3

So long as it has meaning by ohholymoves

Relationship: Shadowheart and Selunite Paladin Tav

The fic that started it at all and inspired me to write my own Shadowheart fanfiction (Shadowheart Begins). This the first BG fanfic I had ever read. I was so blown away I read it 6 times in a row, just to catch everything that happened and the little clues seeded within, and to just admire and be in awe of how incredibly well written and beautiful the whole thing is.

Shadowheart is EXTREMELY sassy in this fic and I am here for it.

Consonance by @eliteseven

Relationship: modern Shadowheart & Tav

A profoundly sweet and meaningful story of Shadowheart & Tav getting together against the backdrop of being a band putting an album together. Isobel and Aylin also make appearances (bonus!!). Once you've checked out Consonance you'll also want to read Of Night Orchids, Lace & Steel by the same author.

Give it up for DJ Shadowheart by @capriclonus

Relationship: modern Shadowheart (a disc jockey) and modern Lae'zel

It took me a while to dip my toe into AU and modern BG3 fics but this one has blown me away. I'm on my fourth readthrough and I'm sure there are more readthroughs to come.

The characterisations and the plotting are just ... I feel like I'm reading something I've taken from a bestsellers shelf. It's absolute goals.

You really feel like you've been taken on a complex and wonderful journey by the end. This one will stick with you for a long time to come.

To Defy the Gods by @shadowfalllen

Relationship: Mother Superior Shadowheart x Tav

Shadowheart had taken the Dark Justiciar path and kept on seeing Tav, but Shar had other ideas about their continuing relationship. A Shadowheart redemption work with moments of awe, terror (I'm a lightweight and sometimes had to take a breath before continuing a chapter) and HOPE.

Also, this is one of the few works where I've seen Nocturne really being fleshed out as a character in her own right! (As she deserves!)

Hand on a Dagger (Head in the Sand) by @future-ghoost

Relationship: Dark Justiciar Shadowheart x Selunite Tav

VERY original concept where only Shadowheart was abducted, and Emmeline & Arnell hire Tav to try and rescue their now adult daughter from the cloister.

The tension is amazing, as is the growing relationship between Shadowheart and Tav and the kinds of compromises and decisions Tav is having to make while infiltrating the cloister as a Selunite. Delicious!

swear i was born right in the doorway by @tadpoleeater

Relationship: Isobel and Aylin

An absolutely hilarious rendition of how Isobel and Aylin got together. The characterisation of Aylin (a difficult character to write) is just spot on and the whole thing is so delightful, I will be surprised if you don't end up with a huge smile on your face at the end.

My Thesis is a Demigod? by @griffinisgae

Relationship: Isobel and Aylin

Fabulous AU in which Isobel, who is writing her thesis on Selune, finds Aylin dormant in a temple after thousands of years. Fish out of water / time displaced shenanigans ensue.

There are so many heartfelt, gorgeous little scenes, including laugh out loud ones.

Juniper & Starlight by @shewhowas39

Relationship: Durge and Astarion

Even though 'I don't even go to this school' as a Shadowheart and Aylin megafan, I am utterly transfixed by this continuing story of a Southern gal, heart of gold divination wizard durge and her journey with Astarion and friends. Shadowheart is the Tav's bestie in this fic and as with all the other characters in the game, is beautifully rendered in word.

As with all the other recommendations in this post, the words flow over you like music. Tav and Astarion's inner world contain so much emotional truth, a difficult feat for both of these incredibly complex characters but the writer here makes it look easy.

Before the Last Brew by @shadowfalllen

Relationship: Shadowheart and Tav

What if Shadowheart doesn't actually have a crap ton of trauma from Viconia and Shar? What if she is the new barista in a small town who has caught the eye of an author who is getting quite distracted from writing at the cafe?

What if WITHERS owns that cafe? What if it's so sweet and fuzzy and lovely and warm and you just can't wait for the next chapter?! What if! What if then?!

Born of Silver & Night Orchids by @cylinderarts

Relationship: Shadowheart and Selunite Tav (Trans Fem)

Here Shadowheart & Tav meet under VERY different circumstances - a one night stand! But soon one night leads to a few more and then one night they aren't particularly careful Shadowheart has a lil bun in oven she has to hide from the cloister while simultaneously trying to deal with her undeniable (let constantly denied) feelings for Tav!

Tav is besties with Karlach in this fic which is the absolute BEST and cylinderarts has also created a bunch of awesome art that goes with this fic that you can view on their profile.

[adacatlovelace]

Some Morrowind thoughts now that I've gotten around to playing it

I love the dichotomy of Early Game being somewhat difficult vs becoming a god of this world shaping it to your whims. It really gives you an appreciation for when you manage to break the game becuase it doesn't just feel like making an already manageable game even easier but instead meeting that challenge the game presents you in a way that makes you feel clever. Like the game straight up feels FUCKING AWFUL until you get your stats up so you actually FEEL the difference from going from slow running and jump basically being useless to VVardenfell's fastest boy who can leap over buildings in a single bound

Speaking of breaking the game, there are an incredible amounts of ways to do so and there are PLENTY of options. Wanna raise your intellect to 60x the stat cap? You can by stacking potions. Wanna make even stronger potions? Well INT affects potion strength and there are potions that raise int. Put two and two together. Low on health/stamina/magicka? Press T as long as you aren't in a town or near enemies and save the potions for combat.

I am incredibly sad what happened to the Alteration school in later entries. Alteration let you influence the world around you including your own body. Open locks, shield yourself, lighten your carryweight, make someone elses carryweight heavier, Water Breathing, becoming jesus and walking on water, levitate, use telekinesis to increase your interaction distance (which is really helpful if you wanna grab something from a position where you are hidden and increase your jump height to ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS AMOUNTS, which combined with a high acrobatics to substantially lessen fall damage makes for the most fun way to traverse and even makes navigating Vivec City much more fun. In Skyrim however, its the most boring class of magic in the game. Yeah paralyze is really funny to cast on people, but A. Telekinesis is basically just the gravity gun from half life and rendered almost completely useless by the ability to just move things around B. Transmute is... neat I guess and can be really useful for leveling smithing but its really tedious if you have a lot of ore to transmute C. Equilibrium is great for leveling restoration but not much else since theres not a lot of situations where it would be good to trade some health for emergency mana (Its a shame its not in Oblivion as it would be a GODSEND for those born under the Atronach sign who don't regen magicka naturally) D. I can kind of see what they were going for with Oak/Stone/Iron/Ebony/Dragonflesh to give a defensive option to those who perfer wearing robes over armor but "Activate ability to temporarily receive less damage" never really feels particularly fun or interesting

Speaking of magic, it really does feel like a core part of the game and I dont think NEARLY the amount of fun I did playing Morrowind if I avoided it

Enchanting is amazing system in Morrowind. Activated Effects, Constant Effects, effects on hit allows for SO much creativity without interfering with spellcasting. After all, why ever cast levitation if you can make a ring with a constant effect of levitation you can pop on and off whenever? The answer is that it is FUCKING EXPENSIVE to have an enchanter make you one or EXTREMELY risky to make it yourself. This sounds like a bad thing but really either A. It provides a valuable money sink so you're never just hoarding a shitton of gold with nothing substantial to spend it on or B. You figure out how to substantially shift the odds in your favor. I really cannot stress how much a GOOD money sink that has substantial rewards in return really adds to keeping the player engaged. Theres doing quests and exploration for their own sake and theres doing quests and exploration while keeping in the back of your mind that there is an 80,000 gold enchantment you are slowly working for so you ALWAYS want to come out of dungeons with as much loot as possible

Spellcrafting fills a similar role, except its for your magic stats rather than your gold. You can make superpowerful spells but you need a superpowerful amount of magicka to actually cast them. This works IN TANDEM with the enchanting system as it can be a great way to boost your stats high enough to cast "Angry Ron's Penile Explosion" (Thank you for letting me name my spells)

Alchemy is kind of tedious (Which thankfully got better in Oblivion and Skyrim, UI-wise) but offers a great way to both make money and temporarily boost your stats, as well as keeping you alive. I also like the little bit of flavor of restore fatigue ingredients usually just being various foods

I've heard mixed things about the fatigue system in general but as much as I hated it early game I sort of grew to enjoy it. I've never really enjoyed "survival" type mods where you have to eat drink and sleep but I feel like the fatigue system is a really good balance between that and just normal regenerating stamina. Rather than outright say "you need to perform bodily functions regularly or suffer for it" It gives you an organic push to take a short rest between large encounters or keep a couple restore fatigue potions on you or maybe take things slowly and walk through the dungeon instead of sprinting everywhere or maybe dont jump unless you need to, all with just a little green bar that says "This is how effective you'll be at everything you do"

The "Fast travel" system is also a GREAT way of getting around thats a good middle ground between "Travel to any location on the map" and the tedium that is walking across the map and back several times over to beat a single quest. By having multiple types of travel, each with their own places they can go, it adds that small amount of required planning in quickly traveling from Point A to Point B to keep it engaging. Stilt striders can take you to landlocked towns while boats can take you to just about any town reachable by water. The mages guild will teleport you to other locations of the mages guild. Bigger cities will have more travel options while smaller towns will have few, if any. Even then you have the two intervention spells which will take you to either the nearest Imperial Cult or Temple which you can CHAIN together. Wanna reach ebonheart extremely quickly? Travel by silt strider, boat or mage guild to vivec, cast Alsimi intervention to teleport to the south end of vivec then divine intervention and BOOM. You're in ebonheart. On TOP of all these options you also have Mark and Recall. Mark will set a place and recall will take you there, which is great for both a quick option to get to your player home OR back to the area you need to return to multiple times over the course of a questline (Looking at you Morag Tong)

10. One of the first NPCs you meet is Caius Casodes. He is a high ranking member of a secret organization of spies for Uriel Septim VII called the Blades and he acts as your sort of handler for most of the main questline. He is a shirtless man in a dingy apartment, he LOVES moon sugar and skooma and basically tells you to fuck off and do the whole "open world" thing for a while multiple times to "give him time to think" which Im pretty sure just means getting blasted. 10/10 character I love him

11. Ahnassi is just a gem. Shes friendly, gives good advice and leads (As well as a discount for the best acrobatics trainer in the game) She has a former partner who's got a skooma addiction who you help and its all very sweet. As you go out of your way to perform various acts of kindness her gratitude PALPABLE and will literally offer you the clothes off her back. Just such a kind, lovable character that makes you GENUINELY wanna help her and give her gifts.

12. I dont really like Crassius Curio (part of it is just the stank of 2003-era homophobia as a character) or anyone who uses their position of power to leverage political favors in exchange for sexual/romatic favors but it is REALLY funny that he actually is the one that wrote The Lusty Argonian Maid and the guy in it is named "Crantius Colto"

Overall Thoughts: Great Game, highly recommend if you dont mind a lot of reading and a steep learning curve that suddenly plummets downward as you obtain godlike power

[standardquip]

Esoterra

Video:Bakemonogatari, Kizumonogatari, Wolf's Rain, Haibanei Renmei (Charcoal Feathers Federation), Vision of Escaflowne, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Steins;Gate, Castlevania, Made In Abyss, Princess Mononoke, Grave of the Fireflies, Puella Magi Madoka Magica The Movie Part 3: Rebellion, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Puella Magi Madoka Magica The Movie Part 1: Beginnings, Patema Inverted, Demon Slayer, Big Fish & Begonia, Origin: Spirits of the Past, KARAS, Children of the Sea, Btooom!, Dorohedoro, Psycho Pass, Shinmai Maou no Testament, Flip Flappers, Dragon Dentist, Girl That Leapt Through Time, Golden Kamuy, Jyu Oh Sei Planet of Beast King, Puella Magi Madoka Magica The Movie Part 2: Eternal, Nisemonogatari, Mushi-Shi, Princess Kaguya, The Perfect Insider, Your Name, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Audio:Aurora – Apple Tree Premiere Date:2020 Status:Downloadable, Streamable Genre(s):Other, Artistic Cons/Awards: Anime Weekend Atlanta 2020 PRO contest finalist for Artistic and Best Video A-M-V.Org 2021 VCAs: won Best artistic Agamacon 2021: won Best Artistic Endeavor Outside Links:.org, AMVnews

I got weirdly defensive about my editing abilities in 2019 so decided to make something specifically to show that I could, in fact, make a really good edit. /shrug

Started: october 2019 during AWA PRO 2019 Finished: 12 August 2020 Spent countless hours on it during that time. Started keeping actual track of hours in Jan 2020. So total project time below is heavily UNDERstated.

Time spent: 94hr 3min 10s total. (again- understated. I normally just round up to 100 lol) 72hrs 38min 10sec for Premiere CS6. 18hr 42min for after effects CS6. 2hr 43min VLC (looping betas lmao).

Finalist in AWA PRO 2020: Best artistic, best video. No Awards won.

Many thanks to all my beta testers, for the editors on discord who actually tried to explain what flow was in esoteric ways so I could maybe understand it, and their help with footage procurement (searching for certain scene compositions in anime I didn’t know). Special shoutouts to TheLazyDaze for continuous hype and feedback, SeasonsAMV who showed me The Perfect Insider, which finished a big blank spot I was struggling with, and Niotex and Dr. Derpface who convinced me to just make my own butterflies in After Effects (Previously I had tried to mask them out of a Demon Slayer scene. It was awful).

Breakdown of the baby scene: (released 26 dec 2020)

My PC nearly died while I tried to make this, and it didn’t even render correctly in the end. I’m sorry for the glitchiness, but due to the difficulty this is likely the only thing like this I will do for Esoterra. [The gold mandala & meat pieces scenes show up later than they should, making accurate comparison pretty difficult. The other overlays seem mostly in sync. I apologize.] This is all the overlays involved for just the one part of the baby scene. The baby scene is not even the most complicated scene in the full AMV, but it is the one that is most obviously different and the one that seems to get most the positive remarks. Hope this is interesting to someone.

Breakdown of the whole thing: (released 6 Jan 2021)

Finally a breakdown that I’m semi-okay with. It’s not as detailed as I wanted, but I think it gets enough of the message across. It’s still a bit buggy in some areas (2 different video files stitched together to get all the video tracks on screen) but it’s in sync. This timeline is actually pretty organized. Any video that’s on it is actively being used in conjunction with an opacity/layer blending mode, masks, or keying. (But 80% of the time it’s a blending mode). Any nested sequences that seem to have the same clips repeated continually are due to the same reasons. On this timeline, Green is nested, Pink is an AE project. I didn’t do pop-ups for every nested sequence or AE project because most of them weren’t anything complicated. The others were either complicated or I just wanted to show off for whatever reason. Especially the butterfly segment. I hand-made and animated the butterfly swarm. All frames are shown on the tracks for informational purposes; I don’t edit like that. Anyway, this was submitted and made finals in AWA PRO 2020, but didn’t win anything (My other video, “Dysphoria,” did win best tech in the same contest though). Esoterra was the most complicated and tech-heavy video I’ve made. Also clocking in at the longest time I’ve ever spent on a project, nearly 100 hours. Feel free to ask any questions!

[newjerseyprelawland-blog]

Artificial Rappers, Artificial Copyright Claims? How "AI Drake" Could Spell Danger For Musicians Worldwide

By Gregory Martinez, Rutgers University–New Brunswick Class of 2026

June 5, 2023

It started as a trend on Tik Tok. As early as March 2023, content creators began flooding the app with “covers” created using artificial intelligence, taking pre-existing vocals from artists such as Ariana Grande, Kanye West, and Rihanna. Using software such as Chinese-developed DiffSVC, creators could feed clips of real life songs, acapella snippets, and even features by any given artist to this AI until the program could learn to replicate their voice nearly perfectly [1]. From there creators were free to use this voice to sing whatever tune their heart desired, and the humorous adaptations that followed struck gold with the absurdist Tik Tok community, and everything seemed in good fun until user ghostwriter977 uploaded a snippet of his song “Heart on my Sleeve” to Tik Tok halfway through April [2]. The song, which had been posted in full on various streaming platforms some days prior, was an original song with a twist: it featured the voices of Canadian musicians Drake and The Weeknd. Ghostwriter977 claimed that he had used artificial intelligence to put their voices to his words, and it took the online community by storm not only because of the song’s quality, but because of the awe at the method used to create it.

Just as soon as it came it was gone, with Universal Music Group (UMG), who represented both Drake and The Weeknd, requesting the song be removed from streaming services immediately due to alleged copyright infringement, and the platforms readily complying [3]. Many details of the situation remain a mystery, with questions remaining about the legitimacy of the claim that it utilized AI, the claim that Ghostwriter977 even wrote the song, and the existence of any actual lawsuit by UMG over the copyright dispute. The last point in particular has drawn the focus of legal experts across the country, as there remains little legal precedent for issues surrounding relatively new AI technology that is at the root of this musical battle.

Copyright law is a thorny field filled with gray, and when entering seemingly uncharted territory, difficulties arise. Chris Mammen, an intellectual property expert and partner at Womble Bond Dickinson, says that “The law evolves by analogy. Something new comes up, and we figure out what it’s analogous to, and then that gradually becomes settled law. What’s happening right now is this is changing so fast that it’s hard even to come up with the analogies to figure out how we want to think about it before it changes again.” [4]. At the center of the AI cover debate are rights of publicity. A federal decision in the case of Haelean Laboratories, Inc. v. Topps Chewing Gum, Inc. (1953) distinguished the idea of rights of publicity, which amounts to the idea that one cannot use the name or likeness of a celebrity for commercial purposes without authorization [5]. This has been a part of privacy law for decades, but with the nuances for the AI debate come questions of what constitutes “name” or “likeness”. In the case of AI Drake, did Ghostwriter infringe on Drake’s name if he expressly stated that it was made with artificial intelligence? Does one’s voice alone count as part of one’s likeness? UMG reportedly used the argument that Drake’s music was not authorized to be put into the program to create AI Drake’s voice, rendering the final product a violation of the copyright on the song, but what if someone were to create a faux Drake without using any of his songs? Can one copyright a voice? The issue enters the even thornier world of ethics when it comes to artists who have already passed away. In the case of the various Michael Jackson covers floating around the internet, is it even right to use a dead man’s voice and legacy for monetary gain? All of these and more are questions raised by this seemingly innocuous event, and decisions are being made and challenged quickly as time passes.

The US Copyright Office has it stated in the Compendium of U.S. Copyright Office Practices that human authorship is a requirement for something to be copyrighted [6]. This would seemingly discount work made by AI, a machine, logic used to refuse a copyright claim on a piece of AI-generated artwork in February 2022 [7]. However in the case of AI music covers, it could be argued that because a human was required to put in the vocals and train the AI to sound like whatever artist it was imitating, the cover can be considered humanly authored and therefore an independent entity that could itself be copyrighted. Using this argument Ghostwritter977 could claim that his song should be reuploaded on streaming platforms and even available for commercial benefits, sparking an entirely new debate. This would be of great concerns to the artists themselves, who can no longer protect their voice, which is undoubtedly associated with their brand in the public eye, and could hypothetically be removed from the creative process. If a label can use Drake’s vocals to create an entire AI-generated album, then the label does not need to pay Drake anymore.  If the law cannot protect these artists, then it has the potential to upend the entire music industry, with production time and expenses drastically reduced by using AI rather than an actual human musician. Court rulings for years to come will help better define in what direction the law chooses to view these issues, and time will tell if AI’s increasing legal protection will come at the detriment of the humans that created it.

______________________________________________________________

[1] Spencer-Elliott, Lydia. “Drake to Ariana Grande: How Tiktokkers Are Making Those Viral AI Cover Songs.” The Tab, 14 Apr. 2023, thetab.com/uk/2023/04/14/how-to-make-ai-song-cover-tik-tok-303346.  

[2] Pearson, Jordan. “A Viral AI-Generated Drake Song by ‘ghostwriter’ Has Millions of Listens.” VICE, 17 Apr. 2023, www.vice.com/en/article/wxj5gw/heart-on-my-sleeve-ai-ghostwriter-drake.

[3] Pearson, Jordan. “Viral AI-Generated Drake Song ‘heart on My Sleeve’ Removed from Spotify, YouTube.” VICE, 18 Apr. 2023, www.vice.com/en/article/xgwx44/heart-on-my-sleeve-ai-ghostwriter-drake-spotify.

[4] Schwartz, Drew. “Drake or Fake? A Lawyer Explains the Legality of Ai-Generated Music.” VICE, 21 Apr. 2023, www.vice.com/en/article/4a3vmn/heart-on-my-sleeve-ai-music-drake-the-weeknd-lawyer-explains.

[5] Vile, John R. “Right of Publicity.” Right of Publicity, www.mtsu.edu/first-amendment/article/1011/right-of-publicity#:~:text=fair%20use%2C%20Wikipedia).

[6] U.S. Copyright Office, Compendium of U.S. Copyright Office Practices § 101 (3d ed. 2021).

[7] Re: Second Request for Reconsideration for Refusal to Register A Recent Entrance to Paradise (Correspondence ID 1-3ZPC6C3; SR # 1-7100387071) (Report). Copyright Review Board, United States Copyright Office.

[tyrorexdmzapp]

Another NSMB2-based Mario Story/Paper Mario scene set!

Once again, I've made more graphic assets and screenshots based on one of New Super Mario Bros 2's worlds. This time, it's the Beach half of World 3!

As an aside, due to how long rendering in Cycles takes, only the first image is done that way, while the rest are Eevee renders.

Enough of that, though- let's swim right in! ...Or maybe not, given what you're about to see.

A small beach island area, the gang must navigate the islands and sands to reach the Gold Star at the end!

Two Yoshis on a honeymoon were apparently interrupted by the boss' arrival, a tale which Captain Ahant recounts to Mario, Sushie and Captain Azure! But it's nothing that hammering, swimming and tossing can't handle!

The first island area. With careful throws, Azure must toss Mario onto the lowest cliffs to navigate. All the while, Piranha Plants are moving around to and fro. There's a bridge to the next area...but what's that over there?

Ah- a far-off island with a bunch of Item Blocks and baddies. Even better- a Green Star on the far-off west side! Perhaps this water-bordered land can be reached with Sushie!

Next up, the actual beach. A whole bunch of Trouters, Urchins and Spike Basses call these sands and waters home. Mario and his pals will have to endure quite a frantic, thorny barrage to make it!

With Sushie's help, Mario and Azure must ride her across Spike Bass-inhabited waters. Hope Sushie can handle the weight, or she'll be sushi! Also, M Bushes litter the beach!

The last stretch before the boss. Among many Hurt Plants is a switch activating a plank bridge back to the start! Then, the gang should use the Save Block to save their progress in history, gather the items, and continue on their way to the Gold Star-

-Aw, naw. Not CHEEPSKIPPER again! What does a fat fish want with a Gold Star, anyways? Whatever- Mario, Sushie and even Azure are ready to throw down!

---

I should probably explain why NSMB2 keeps getting picked, despite it's infamy among the fandom and redundancy. My original plan was to try and have a mix of locales from DS, Wii and 2. However, upon review of the three games and deciding which game would depict which archetype, I noticed 2 generally has the more colorful and unique designs of the trio, while DS...yeah. I actually thought DS would get more slots, but the areas seem kind of bland even for the NSMB series.

That's not to say no NSMBWii locations will be depicted. It's just NSMB2 keeps getting lucky with its incarnations of various world types early on.

Also, while NSMBU is the best of the NSMB series, due to U being implied to be a specific wild area of the Mushroom Kingdom rather than just general locations, its levels weren't and couldn't be considered, in the interest of fairness. I may do them one day, though- just not in the near future.

[jedifarmerr]

Javi's Having a Baby

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader/OFC (no y/n or physical description)

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Body insecurities related to pregnancy, smut (oral sex & masturbation) and lots of fluff.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

Strands of morning light swept through the fine curtains in splashes of gold over pink satin; the flimsy nightie clinging to her growing belly. With her leg draped over the plush white comforter and cradling the pillow, she almost appeared to be sleeping on a cloud. Ethereal. Javier couldn’t help but reach out and feather the tips of his fingers over her cheek; she let out a soft, dreamy sigh that he mimicked with one of his own. 

Bliss. 

Reluctantly, Javier slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her as the door clasped silently behind him. Goosebumps splattered his chest, in only a pair of loose fitting sleep shorts the draft in the hallway nipping his bare skin; a small price to pay – he reasoned as rummaging through drawers would certainly rouse her. He simply turned the dial on the thermostat on his way to the bathroom. 

Once his teeth were brushed, he plodded off to the kitchen with a languid overhead stretch and yawn. Soon, the smell of freshly brewed coffee stirred around the kitchen.

On the counter was a brown paper sack from the local bookstore by her work: another haul of pregnancy books. Baby names. Guides and How-To’s. What to expect. The basket by the toilet already full of them. Magazines alike scattered around the end tables, next to her stained tea-ring mugs. 

The house was a sanctuary of her small clutterings – trails of cups, oddly configured piles and sample-size beauty products lining the tub. 

Sure, he’d lived with Chucho after Colombia and there were those few weeks a lifetime ago with Elisa; bunked up in an apartment he would hardly call his own; a preservation of the previous owner where all that was truly his were the cigarette buds, whiskey in the fridge and suitcase in the closet. It was a still shot of sterilized loneliness. Nothing personal. Nothing changing from morning to when he arrived back at some godforsaken hour, not even a lamp left on. Just the lights of Bogotá interwoven in moonlight slicing up the tile floor. 

So, while she may have claimed it as a bad habit, Javier found those tiny reminders to fill a void that had long been overlooked. 

Sometimes he worried that one day he’d wake up in Colombia or Laredo, learning it was all some cruel dream. In awe over how his life turned out. Especially now. With an ultrasound clipped to the fridge. 15 weeks; healthy as can be. 

So much had changed since that first appointment. They’d really started to take shape – small button noses and sprouting limbs. No longer blobs but instead actually looking…real. The next appointment was set for 20 weeks and Dr. Kelly had tease the possiblity of learning the sex, depending on their position and all that. 

Hanging near the gray and grainy photo were holiday cards of friends and family, including the smiley faces and cheesy matching sweaters of the Murphy’s. Steve had gotten an earful while in town, a dinner squeezed in amongst the chaos of late December to share the exciting news. 

If only the restaurant had a camera hidden somewhere, Javier would’ve paid an obscene amount of money to have Steve’s reaction on video. Rarely was the blonde rendered speechless but the news of her not only being pregnant but with twins had Steve on a momentary vow of silence that was only broken by a sputtering cough from downing his whiskey and coke. 

When they parted later that evening under the harsh white street lights, the pride and joy in his blue eyes glimmering like the splash of stars above. Steve’s arms lingered around his shoulder, squeezing them as he pulled away; the whirlwind of emotions seeping into his drawl:

From one dad to another, I think you’re gonna do great. 

Javier sure hoped so. 

It was so easy for him to see how great a mother she was already becoming. It seemed like overnight the fridge had become stacked in color, all leafy greens and rosey fruits. Sadly, it reeked from that mystery smoothie batch she’d concocted earlier in the week which tasted like candied onions; one sip had him bent over the sink while she chugged it down like a beer bong at a frat party. 

It was honestly quite impressive. 

Wanting to do what he could, Javier put on a fresh kettle then started on breakfast, whipping up some chocolate chip pancakes. The sizzling pan drowned out the small groan of the bedroom door, the creak of wood under her steps. 

“What’s this?” Her voice was doused in sleep, rubbing her eyes and blinking awake to take in the fullness of the scene. She had thrown on the robe he’d bought her for Christmas, the ribbon tied in a loosely strewn bow. 

He smiled warmly. “Oh, nothing.” He shrugged all nonchalant, flipping the pancake over.

“Nothing, huh?” She wrapped her arms around his torso, warm and cozy from the blankets still and smelling of laundry. Her lips brushed over his spine, making his stomach flex under her palms. “Looks to me like something.” Her voice muffled against his skin. 

“It’s just pancakes,” he brushed off, grabbing her hand to place a chaste kiss to her knuckles before sliding the pancake on top of the leaning stack.

“Just pancakes,” she scoffed at his minimizing then scooped some batter onto her finger, sucking it off. “Oooh, that’s good,” her voice was innocently sensual and Javier knew she wasn’t trying to tease him as she’d done so countless times before, working him up until he was left with no choice but to drop to his knees, lift up that robe and bury himself between her thighs. 

No – she was completely preoccupied by the bowl, diving in for seconds and thirds. Oblivious to the way her barely there moans, a small pop of her spit-soaked finger made his cock twitch against the thick cotton seam. 

Over breakfast she detailed the itinerary for the day, zig-zagging around Austin, bouncing from one open house to the next. She’d practically mapped out every single one listed in the newspaper and advertised on street corners. Javier tried, really he did, to listen but his mind kept drifting into the gutters with the image of her hollow cheeks and eyes fluttering shut. 

He was like some rabid teenager doped up on testosterone and while he hoped a shower would wash it away, one whiff of her shampoo seduced him into taking the weight of his heavy cock in hand, pumping it empty while moaning her name into the shower head. 

Still.

He found little relief even as his cum painted the tiles, trickled down the drain. The splash of warm water a poor substitute in comparison to her slick cunt: tight and hot and all for him. 

Specks of water clung to his lips and imagining it was her wetness, his tongue swiped across it as if he could taste her just on bare memory. If he tried hard enough, maybe he could. 

It wasn’t much later when she waltzed in the front door after her daily walk; sweaty and lightly panting. His hair still damp and dark, cock spent – yet it throbbed at the sight of her. All greedy and wanting.

There had to be something wrong with him. Maybe that natural sleep remedy bullshit she’d bought was laced or something.

Because fuck – just hearing the shower running summoned a memory of her braced against those very tiles he’d just spilled onto; the borderline pornographic slap of skin on skin, the clamp of her soaked walls as his thumb grazed over the cleft of her ass, dipping experimentally into the tight hole. 

Javier shook his head as if it was an etch-a-sketch, scrubbing the pans and counters until they were spotless and rushing to get changed, but nothing could break him from the lustful curse. It’d been a week since he’d last had her and his body acted like it was water, dehydrated and lacking a pivotal need. 

When the shower finally shut off, Javier plopped down on the side of the bed, running his fingers through his hair. His cock tucked away in his jeans, hard and aching. 

Already at the end of his rope when she suddenly appeared in the doorframe – hair pulled back from her face and wrapped in a towel, he let out a throaty groan. The beams of morning light made her skin look dewy; beads of water like crystal teardrops tracing her collarbone and down to her chest and making him immediately feel parched.  

Javier gawked in exhalation – unworthy of someone so angelic. 

But she stiffened under his reverent and devouring gaze, clutching the towel closer to her body until it became skin and trying to walk away, but Javier was quick to click his tongue and drag her by the hip into the slot between his thighs. 

“Baby,” he said in a husky voice, roaming along her sides and whining at the thickness of the material. Damn these nice towels. He just wanted to feel the outline of her. 

“Javi.” 

He peered up with those puppy dog eyes she couldn’t deny, begging for just a selfish moment of indulgence. She relented, a subtle shake of her head with a smile that betrayed her. 

Keeping his eyes on her, examining her expression as he teased where the towel and her skin met. The graze of fingertips over the misty plushness of her inner thigh made her lips part. Only to clip back shut, tensing as his other hand fiddled with the makeshift flap. 

“Javi - I - I should get ready.” Her voice spiked up and his lips dipped into a subtle frown, but not for himself. He laid his palm flat on her thigh, teasing at the apex. He could feel the heat that radiated from her cunt, knowing if he closed that centimeter gap she’d be wet. 

“Just-” His forehead dropped softly against her belly, nuzzling his nose into the towel fold. “Let me see you.” Her thighs clamped around his hand; her silence prickling the air, bleeding with self-sabotaging thoughts that drew a furrow in her brow. 

He knew she was struggling with her evolving body. It seemed to snowball in the past few weeks after a button had popped off her jeans. It started with small comments that grew more frequent – comparing herself to a pregnant co-worker, pointing out the funny fit of her clothes. Of course, he tried to rebuff them with sensitivity and understanding but to no avail. The mind was tricky like that. He noticed how she looked in the mirror with what seemed to be a sense disapproval, trying to hide herself by insisting the lights stay off during sex, if not keeping on her shirt. 

Her perception of herself and what she saw was completely mismatched to his and Javier felt lost on what to do; how to help. How could he make her see what he did?

“Please, baby,” his voice was thick with desire, gaze earnest. He could see her contemplating, gnawing on her bottom lip before giving a small nod. He gave her the lead, leaning back slightly which also happened to offer a more ample view. 

With a shaky exhale, she ripped off the towel like it was a band-aid.

Bare before him, stomach swollen; his dark eyes cruised her figure and the sound that rumbled from deep in his chest bordered on barbaric and even slightly possessive. 

He visibly adjusted his cock then grasped at the meat of her hips. “My pretty wife,” he murmured, dragging the tip of his nose along her stomach, one hand skating along her side. The catch of his thumb at the cusp of her swelling breast made her shiver in his hold; she’d become so sensitive. 

“Beautiful,” he breathed out, enveloped in her softness and scent of her body wash. 

“Still?” The slight tremble of nervous hope in her voice ripped at his insides. 

He stopped, looking into her eyes. 

“Always,” he said, sternly and she breathed out, body melting in relief. 

Slowly, she became malleable in his arms as his worshiping hands turned her doubts to dust; a river of praise flowing from his lips as tender as the kisses he dotted her belly with. He roamed to her thighs and her fingers threaded into his hair, tugging at the strands. Her head thrown back, praying to the sky in needy little whines. 

“Oh baby,” he marveled at the wetness smeared across her skin; a graze of his fingertips making her buck into his hand. “So wet for me.” He swiped over the sensitive bud, ripping a pitiful sound from her lips that sparked at his spine, tugged at his balls. 

“Please - Javi. I-” 

“What baby?” He cooed, “Want me to take care of you?” She bobbed her head eagerly, hips rolling on reflex. “Then lay on the bed.” 

She scrambled onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to support her back as his knees collided on the rug, yanking her by the hips to the edge. He caught a whiff of her musky scent and growled. 

Propped up on her forearms, she watched in awe as Javier spread her open, gaping at her shiny folds and swollen pussy on full display. 

“Look at you,” he wet his lips then smeared it across her thighs. Her breath caught in her throat at the wet slide of his tongue tracing where she desperately craved him most.

Teasing her was one of his favorite hobbies and searching for a smidge of relief to the heat in her belly, she palmed at her breasts, nipples pinched between her thumb and forefinger. 

Javier hummed in approval and leaned in, catching her off guard with a swift swipe over her soaked seam; a taste tantalizing as it bloomed on the tip of his tongue. An urge to devour her clawed at his senses; to plunge his tongue inside her and torture her with the tip of his nose until she was screaming. 

But – mindful of her newfound sensitivity, he explored with slow and steady strokes that had her soaking his tongue. 

“So good." He sounded drunk, lapping at her dripping entrance and up to suck her clit between his lips. The ever so light graze of teeth over the swollen bud had her crying out his name in ecstasy. Clawing at the comforter and finding ground in his hair; each tug and pull and delicious scratch of her nails along his scalp sent him spiraling in coils of pleasure that made him rut into the side of the mattress like some depraved hound. 

It reminded him of that addicting moment when he finally gave into desire and touched her – tasted her like he’d dreamed of. He’d never felt anything like it. The pleasure was so sharp; so precise. Never a sound so sweet as his name on her lips in the crest of the release he built. 

He’d been overwhelmed by it, hand wrapping around his cock until he came with his tongue buried inside her. 

The effect she had on him was unexplainable, a wild drive of insane want. Insatiable, he could spend every day right here and it still somehow would never be enough. 

She whined in protest when his mouth retreated to her thighs, seeking him out and earning a quick tsk of his tongue and nip to her thigh. 

“I got you,” he assured with a taunting undertone as two thick fingers sunk into her, walls drenched and clenching around him. “Already so close,” he commented, cocky as if he wasn’t on the edge of finishing in his pants. 

A crook of his fingers hit that spot that made her thighs tremble and breath waver.

"You wanna come?” He asked, dragging his fingers in and out, the obscene squelch torture to his constrained cock but this wasn’t about him. It was all about her and the swipe of his thumb over her clit made her gasp and body bow forward in pleasure.

“Please,” she cried out, “Oh, please Javi - please.” 

“Look at me.” Her eyes fluttered open at his demand, wild and ravishingly desperate, matching his own. “You’re gonna watch,” he emphasized with a soft stroke directly to her bud and her head fell into a broken nod, mouth wide open and panting. 

“Been thinkin’ of this pussy all day.” He glanced away from her blissed out face, just for a moment to watch her greedy hole suck his fingers in, the thick digits coated in slick, glistening in the sun as they reemerged. “About my pretty wife, all fucked out.” 

Unable to speak, she could only whimper in response; white hot pleasure spreading through her veins, down to her toes and fingertips, prickling the hairs on her scalp. 

“Fucked myself in the shower,” he admitted and her body twisted, moaning as her pussy eagerly welcome a third into her. “Thinking of you but fuck - nothing compares. No one compares.” 

He spit on her clit, possessively and swirled it around with his thumb until his name was strung together, intertwined in a babbling mess. 

“Come on, baby. Yeah, I can feel it,” he moved faster, primal. Eyes black and watching himself drive into her cunt. “You’re gonna soak me aren’t you? Fuck I want you too. Come on baby, come on - claim me - fuck. Yeah - claim me.” 

Javier moaned in unison with her, mouth open in awe as she gushed around his fingers, rubbing at her clit relentlessly. She shuddered in the aftershock. 

“Javi,” she whined, making him slow to a steady halt, murmuring sweet praise between cleaning her thighs, sucking it off his fingers – a rare delicacy. Moments away from mouthing at the mess on the sheets, she called out to him. 

He looked ravenous, lips and chin shiny and shirt completely ruined. Climbing on top of her he crushed his lips against hers, smothering her in her own release – drawing it across her lips, tongue and mouth. His painful bulge pressed into the softness of her thigh, grinding unconsciously into it. 

“Javi,” she spoke into his mouth and he groaned at the sweetness of the sound, how it echoed in the cavern of his mouth. With all the blood rushing to his cock, brain fizzled out all he could hear was the roar of his heartbeat, feel the static as it built at the base of his spine. 

She called his name again and again until finally it sliced through his mushy brain and he halted. Every muscle in his body rigid and on the verge of snapping. His breathing heavy with shame, head buried in the crevice of her neck to hide the burn of it on his cheeks. 

He panted his apology, shaking his head. His cock was throbbing painfully against his zipper, denim sticky and incredibly uncomfortable. 

“No - no,” she rushed out, combing down the sweaty strands of hair at the base of his neck with one hand and catching him off guard as the other cupped his erection. The cords of his neck went taut and strained, breath catching on something in his lungs.

He dropped his sweaty forehead to her shoulder and tried to speak but the words died off into a whimper as his hips moved on their own freewill.

“Do you wanna cum like this?” The hush of breath over the shell of his ear built at the fire inside him. “Or in my pussy?” 

“Oh fuck.” He gasped. “I won’t - I won’t last. I’m so close.” His voice broke on the words, vulnerable and raw. 

She shushed him softly. “That’s okay, let me take care of you. Lay down - your poor knees. Come on, baby.” She was right, his knees ached at the mere mention; the edge of pain drowned out by searing arousal. 

Surrendering, Javier rolled over, feet thunking flat on the floor and knees bent. The comforter felt heavenly on his back. 

In the light, he could see the stain along his zipper where blue turned black. Working in tandem, jeans inching down his calves and rucking up his shirt, she burrowed into his side, nuzzled into his neck. A perfect fit. 

His cock laid heavy on his tummy, head nearly purple and leaking onto his brazen skin, cooling it. He draped his arm around her, grasping at her hip as the other clenched into a fist at his side.

The first stroke along his swollen and slicked up cock made his back arch off the bed. Each one after drawn out, featherlight from base to tip; thumb sweeping over the pearly beads and tracing them along the thick vein of his cock. 

It was so different from his hard, means to an end touch earlier; all honeyed hands, tender caresses. The praise she whispered for only him was too much. Too dizzying. He squeezed his eyes shut and thrusted into the ring of her grip. Her name dripping like nectar from his lips. 

“Go on, Javi. Take it. It’s yours.” 

Javier wasn’t an innately possessive man but hearing her say that, his mind went absolutely blank. Bucking up, headboard clapping against the wall from the force of it. His thrusts were sloppy; unhinged and desperate.

When her lips dipped to the curve of his neck and sucked softly at the sensitive skin, it left him groaning and shuddering with pleasure. Her grip tightened, pumping him in unison and for a moment he couldn’t breathe; there was no oxygen that high up. 

“Come on, Javi,” she whispered, feeling his cock pulse in her palm, dangling right at the edge. “Cum for me.” The force of his orgasm took his breath away, white-hot and blinding. His hips jerked, body trembled, riding the waves of ecstasy. 

Her lips tangled with his in a languid kiss, bringing the air back into his lungs. He groaned when she broke away, licking her hand then his hips clean. The wet slide of her tongue had him shuddering with racks of residual pleasure. 

Cognitive functioning slowly returning, Javier brought her face between his hands before she could wander too far and kissed her lips, “You’re so beautiful, so amazing. I love you so much." he kissed her nose and forehead, wiping away the overwhelming tears on her cheeks with a tender stroke of his thumb.

“I love you too.” Her hand covered his, placing a kiss to his wrist then palm. She caught a glance at the clock on the nightstand and sighed, pulling out of the embrace and to her feet. “But, we gotta go.” 

Javier groaned, flopped back on the bed and draped his arms over his eyes. He heard the rummaging of clothes, somewhere in the closet. 

“Javi, are you up?” 

“I’m basically ready,” he murmured, still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm. 

She scoffed, looking him up and down while pulling on a pair of leggings. “You gonna wear that?” She chuckled at his current state, jeans pooled at his ankles and shirt stained in a mix of both him and her. 

He propped himself up on his forearms and glanced down, shrugging. “Maybe. If you wear just that.” He wiggled his brows at her bare chest and she couldn’t help but smile, even as she threw off the comment with a dismissive wave. 

“You’re impossible, now come on. We’re gonna be late.” 

---

The housing market had hit that typical lull around the holiday’s which Javier understood. Who wanted to bother selling and moving during the busy season? However, it put the search on quite a time crunch. 24 weeks. 

At most. 

Neither him nor her wanted to settle for anything less than ideal, but seven houses later and each one earning her indifferent hum, she was slumped in the passenger seat; dejected. The only positive seemed to be a promising realtor at the fourth house who had given her their card and just so happened to have a house down the street coming on the market in the coming days. Driving past it, it looked perfect but had one problem – it was only three bedrooms. 

“Do we really need four bedrooms?” Javier asked, glancing over his shoulder while switching lanes. “I mean - it’s just us and then…them.” 

Her head did this little teeter from side to side, “Well….yeah,” she drew out the last word and Javier knew what that meant: someone had an idea. He looked over the rim of his aviators and she breathed out through her nostrils, stirring in the seat to face him. 

“I’ve been doing some thinking,” she said and Javier hummed at the very obvious statement. “And well, I - I just thought it’d be nice for your dad to have a place.” 

Warmth spread across his chest at her admittance. The fact that she’d thought of that, thought of his father and planned for him in the future, his eyes went glossy – hidden by the colored lenses of his sunglasses. 

He’d never felt so lucky; so appreciative of her. 

Lost in the moment, speechless by it; she continued on. “Ya know, with them coming it might be hard to get away for a weekend and with Danny starting to help out, the place will be his one day and all, I thought he could come and stay for even like a couple weeks or something.” 

Javier cleared his throat, “Baby, that’s - yeah - he’ll love that. He’d love that.” 

Her hand found his, fingers intertwined and Javier would never know what he’d done to deserve this. 

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long, I hit a small roadblock on configuring the chapter so thank you for the patience!

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Twisted Love

(Loki x Reader)

-Part 1-

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Language, forced marriage, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks. if I forgot anything please let me know!

Prologue Part 2

************************************

"Are you adusting alright my dear"?

You smiled at the queen mother's genuine kindness. So far she had been the most welcoming of them all and you felt great comfort in her presence.

"Yes I am thank you.." you hoped you were being convincing enough, there were only so many times you could attempt to hide your sadness behind sips of tea.

It had been a week since the wedding, two weeks since your arrival in Asgard. So much had happened in such a short time that you felt a literal weight placed on your being.

The journey to Asgard was awful. Alone in the carriage you had no choice but to let your thoughts run wild, rendering you an anxious mess. Some moments you cried, others you felt as if you couldn't breathe and panicked. It was a condition youd always had that people labeled as dramatic and attention grabbing but you couldn't help it.

Before your actual arrival the Queen slipped into your carriage and began to lecture you about various things. Mostly threats about how if you didn't please the prince she would find ways to punish you.

You were a fool to think that serving the royal family dutifully all these years would result in anything good.

The moment you stepped onto Asgardian soil you felt the panic rise in your chest once more.

You were thankful that the queen had foreseen this and made you wear a fashionable crown veil thingy that hid your face and in turn your distraughtness.

A long bridge filled with brilliant colors stretched out before you. Had you not been so panicked you would've taken more time to admire it.

The party began to move on foot, the King and Queen at the helm while you fell behind, legs feeling as If you were moving through molasses.

What the hell were you doing? How could you ever be a princess? What if they caught you?!Would they have you executed?!? How were you ever going to convi-

"Are you alright your highness" It took you a moment to realize that it was you being addressed, obviously not used to the title.

You turned your head slowly to the right, a man clad in gold armor. His honey colored eyes regarded you with concern. You vaguely remembering him from when you first arrived, he opened the gate you think. Gods everything was getting so blurry and confusing.

"Y-yes I am, t-thank you sir" you winced at how shakey your voice came out. Gods you only just arrived and you were already drawing unnecessary attention.

He stared at you for a moment before continuing to walk by your side, an escort of sorts you assumed. He had said so earlier you think...something about the royal family awaits them eagerly and such. And he would lead them there, along with some other Asguardian guards.

You peeked at the whole crowd, you in the center, the monarchs in the front and guards surrounding you all marching you towards a world of unknown.

You felt an uncomfortable heat begin to creep up your body and suddenly your head felt like a balloon. Oh gods please don't faint, by all that is good and pure please don't let me faint... deep breaths, it's alright, it's going to be alright...it's-

You didn't even realize you had swayed until the man clad in gold firmly held your arm.

"You're unwell your highness, allow me to call-" immediately you jumped and cut him off, "N-no that's not necessary, I'm just a little weary from travel...I'll be alright.." The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene.

The man seemed unconvinced but nodded anyway. You were slightly surprised when he discreetly threaded your arm through his, giving you enough support lest you begin to sway again.

You met his eyes and found them to be understanding, "Thank you.." you whispered so only he could hear.

"May I know your name?" After a bit of supported walking you felt your nerves calm slightly and decided to distract yourself a bit.

He smiled and bowed his head slightly, "I am Heimdall, gatekeeper of Asgard, your highness"

"Heimdall..." you repeated the name. Maybe one day you could repay his kindness. No one in all your years as a lowly servant had shown you anything akin to kindness and now you were a princess and suddenly someone actually cared about your wellbeing. What a strange feeling...

The clanking of a kettle brought you back. The queen mother, Frigga smiled as she poured you another steaming cup of tea.

Never in your life did you think someone would be pouring your tea. Especially with a golden tea pot.

"Forgive me for prying but as a mother I am curious..." you nodded letting her know it was ok to continue.

"How are things going between you and Loki?"

"As soon as he says more than 5 words to me I'll let you know" was what you wanted to say but you opted for, "Things are well, he has been nothing but kind to me" you smiled brightly in an attempt to quell the wetness forming at the corner of your eyes.

There was no need to mention how things truly were, in fact if you told her she would probably find him and give him a beating with a broom. She often made jokes that if he did anything to make you feel sad she would throw him over her knee.

You were glad that amidst the sadness you had a comforting presence.

A week had felt like years... You barely said two words when you first arrived in the palace. The royal family was there and very welcoming. You caught sight of your future husband beside Odin. Had you not been riddled with worry you would've taken time to appreciate him.

When prompted he introduced himself and respectfully bent down to lay a soft kiss on your hand. His bright eyes met yours for a brief moment before retreating to his spot by his Father.

That was all the time you got with him before the wedding unfortunately. Your Queen told Odin and Frigga that Royal Valheim custom dictates the bride cannot see the groom for a set amount of days before the nuptials. Of course this was bullshit but the monarchs wanted to ensure there were no incidents before the actual wedding took place.

They also used this time to have impromptu lessons in etiquette and other things. It was terribly dull and you seriously considered taking the pencil and stabbing her with it.

Although you always accompanied the princess during her lessons, you didn't really learn with her. Why they thought you made a good fit was beyond you. Although you were beginning to understand the princess's bitchyness, these lessons were torture. And the overlooking threats didn't exactly help...

***************************

The day of the wedding you felt like a puppet. A team of valheiman women had taken hours to prepare you while you were lost in a fog.

Frigga entered the chambers when it was almost time for the ceremony and asked everybody to leave. You were nervous at first, thinking she had somehow found out the ruse but you calmed when she smiled brightly and gathered you in a tight hug.

"You look absolutely radiant my dear"

Radiant? Me?

"Thank you my queen" you forced a smile.

"Please call me Frigga" she smoothed a hand gently over your dress. "Or better yet, when your comfortable, mother" she giggled "I've always wanted a daughter after all!" You couldn't help but mirror her smile. What a wonderful woman. If only you didn't have to lie to her...

"That reminds me, I have something for you" she gently nudged you to face the floor length mirror. The reflection someone you didn't know.

"For generations the women in my family have passed this down to their daughters.." she reached a hand around your neck.

A shimmering silver pendant hung delicately down your neck. "And today I give it to you, welcome to the family my dear" she kissed your cheek and you couldn't speak. A single tear rolled down your cheek and you thanked her earnestly. You wondered if your mother would have been this loving. The guilt for lying suffocated you. You hoped she would never find out. The betrayal she'd feel would break you.

The actual wedding was probably the grandest event youd ever witnessed. The Valheim king, walked you down a glimmering red and gold aisle. At the end, the prince dressed in elegant wedding attire waited for you. He was polite but you could tell by his stiffness he didn't want this marriage, he was probably forced just like you had been. Albeit under very different circumstances...

Rings and quick vows were exchanged and after drinking from the same wine goblet you were officially married to Loki the prince of Asgard..

You didn't exchange any words during the wedding feast but that was alright with you. Your thoughts wandered to what he would expect of you tonight but luckily his brother, Prince Thor distracted you with his tales of his time on Midgard. He was truly sweet and expressed how happy he was to have a sister.

Many people approached you and welcomed you, many of the guards swearing their loyalty to you. Each declaration like a knife in your gut.

Guilt guilt guilt

After a long evening of partying and feasting, the dreaded moment had come when you were left alone with the Prince in your new chambers.

You didn't know what to say so you simply stayed quiet. You walked over and sat by the vanity and began to remove the many pins in your hair. You'd miss the days when you could just tie up your hair in a messy bun and no one would bat an eye.

After a few uncomfortable moments of quiet the Prince broke the silence. His first words setting the tone of the rest of your marriage.

"I did not ask for this marriage..."

You sucked in a breathe and stared at him through the mirror.

"However for the sake of my people I have chosen to go through with it. You are my wife in name and name only. As long as you do your duties as princess by my side in the court and in public, I see no reason we can't be...civil..."

Civil...how romantic...

"But as for anything more..." he trailed off, voice laced with tension.

"I understand.." you finally spoke, proud at how you didnt falter for once.

"Then I'll take my leave..."

Leave? Was he not going to stay the night, even if for appearances sake?

There was so much you wanted to say, so much you didnt know how to say, but in the end all you could manage was a weak nod. He exited the chambers and never in your life had you been so alone..

"Give it time y/n.." your head shot up at the queens sudden change in tone. You found her expression knowing and realized the queen was more perceptive than you initially realized.

You nodded sadly, thanked her for lunch and left.

Your days so far had been rather uneventful, which gave you some time to gather your wits. You'd spent your days pouring over asgardian books trying to learn everything you could. It was true that you often attended the princesses lessons, but it's not like you were sitting at the desk practicing and asking questions.

If you were going to continue this charade you were going to have to educate yourself.

Other than that and occasional tea with Frigga, you didn't really speak to anyone. This was technically supposed to be the honeymoon period, however you guessed asgard didn't partake in that particular custom. Not that you minded, time alone with Loki was the last thing you needed. Since your wedding night, you hardly saw him. To your surprise he did sleep in your shared chambers, he'd always come late into the night and leave early before you woke. Sharing a bed was a strange feeling, luckily the bed was adequate to lay an elephant on so it's not like you had to really be near each other.

You thought that finally getting to sleep on a soft bed was going to be a dream, that you'd never want to leave. In fact it was pure torture, years of sleeping on hard wooden beds with thin mattresses made it impossible to sleep on anything else. Often you would lay awake for hours, thinking about your new life. The tears had stopped coming some time ago. Or more like you forced yourself to hold it lest Loki see you and get angry.

You knew nothing about the prince and his temperament. And the queen made it quite clear that if you displeased him, she would know. You're not sure how since they departed soon after the wedding but you could tell she wasnt one for empty threats...

By the gods this was all so exhausting. Who knew being a princess was going to be worse than being a servant?

An abrupt knock shook you out of your thoughts.

"Yes?"

"My Lady, there is a letter for you"

A letter?

"You may enter" the maid bowed swiftly before handing you a cream scroll wrapped in a navy ribbon.

Must be from Valheim...

You dismissed the maid with a thank you and braced yourself in a chair.

Shaky hands pulled the silky material until it unfurled. With a deep breathe you began to scan the words.

Dearest daughter,

It has not been a week but we miss you dreadfully. We hope that things between you and the prince are going well, however we cannot help but be concerned. We are told you have not spent much time together, hopefully this changes, we only want you both to be happy. I'm sure by the next time we speak, your relationship will have grown even more. Oh we almost forgot! We have a little surprise for you. We hope you like it. You'll know it when you see it. Take care dear, until next we speak.

King Sivn ○ Queen Aderi

By the end your breathing was uneven and you felt the anger as well as fear begin to course through you.

Loving words laced with threats... wasn't it enough you went through with this charade? What were you supposed to do? Loki had wanted nothing to do with you outside of court obligations. They're the ones who forced you to do this, it was their stupid child who ran away why were you the one punished?!?!

"Aghhhhhhh!"

You couldn't help the surge of frustration and balled up the letter before throwing it into the fire.

Why was this happening to you?! All your life you kept to yourself and did what you were supposed to. You worked hard without respite for the royals years and this is what you get in return?! If you ever saw the princess again youd-

"My lady is everything alright??"

Shit. "Y-Yes everythings fine" you shouted through the door.

"I have some news my lady, may I enter?"

Oh gods what now?

"Yes come in.." a different maid, one you've actually never seen before entered.

She had a round face, bright smile and a head full of bouncy curls. Your curiosity was peaked when you realized she was dressed differently than the other maids that usually entered your chambers.

She gave a quick bow and practically ran up to you catching you slightly off guard.

"My name is Adessa! It's a pleasure to meet you your highness!" You smiled unsurely but she didnt seem to notice.

"As of today, I'm your personal attendant! Sorry if I'm being too excited" she laughed rubbing a hand behind her head, "but I can't help it, the queen picked me especially for this role and well um I-I! Sorry I'm rambling aren't I?! Haha well anyway" she took a step back and gathered her hands onto her lap before bowing once more. "I promise to serve you the best to my abilities"

Shes.....like a bunny....

You somehow felt a little lighter and relaxed, "Thank you...I um, I look forward to...uh...spending time together..." ugh why the hell did you say it like that?! So awkward.

Luckily she didnt seem fazed, only more excited, "You're so nice! And really pretty too! I cant wait to make you even more beautiful for tonight!"

That caught your attention, "Tonight?"

A look of realization crossed her face, "Oh right! I was supposed to tell you some warriors are returning to Asgard tonight so Odin is throwing a feast" she clapped her hands together, "And I am going to make sure you look absolutely stunning"

You felt your palms begin to tingle,  "H-how many people will be there...."

"Oh um well the usual, the royal family of course, the knights will all be there as well, some nobles who are guests right now, all the guests who still havent left from the wedding, theres the ...."

Her words began to sound far away and quieter and you couldn't help but stumble back.

"My lady!" She rushed forward and steadied you, before urging you to sit down. "I'll go call for the healer!"

You shook your head, not quite able to form the words.

Adessa looked distressed but listened, a few minutes later you're senses came back and Adessa handed you a glass filled with water.

The cool liquid calming you slightly.

"My lady..."

Gods how embarrassing...she probably thought you were such a spoiled dramatic princess.

"I'm alright..s-sorry"

Adessa seemed even more distressed at this.

"I should be the one apologizing my lady! I should've spoken with more care... all of this must be alot, you're still adjusting after all.."

She surprised you by joining you on the bed, she looked to be in deep thought but the a look of determination crossed her face. "There is nothing to fear my lady. The attention will be on the returning warriors and Odin will do most of the entertaining..also if you start feeling uncomfortable just give me a signal and I'll cause a big distraction! I'll throw a chicken leg at a drunk warrior and point to some other drunk, they'll be brawling in no time and that's when you can sneak away!"

"Pfft" you couldn't hold back the laugh at her ridiculousness.

"Thank you Adessa, if I need you I'll bark twice" she giggled and nodded in satisfaction, "That's better, now then let's get you ready, I'm going to make sure you're the prettiest one!" She stood up with fiery determination. "No way am I gonna let some other attendant out do me hehe"

Ok now I'm actually afraid....

"Alright!" She clapped her hands, "First you need a dress!"

***********************

That's chapter 1! This is my first ever planned long series so I know there will be plenty of mistakes but please be patient with me💕 also just a note about the reader, obviously she is full of anxiety and self deprecation but I want her to be like that for awhile before she learns how to fend for herself. She has many strong emotions on the inside but has no confidence...yet.

Please let me know what you think! Comments are my fuel🥰 till next time! Taglist here!

@oceanmermaidwitch

@sophiaedits

@anda-the-valkyrie

@daddylokisqueen

@anemois-hiraeth

@movielover2002

@ibuki-as-president

@someonesleftshoe

@sin-bin-kin

@sara--ravenclaw

@fuzzyphantomsandwich-blog

@the-professor-of-gallifrey

@xmischief-ladyx

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: WWX is one of JGS's bastard sons, raised by his mother and her husband - until they die when he's young. Then he gets taken into the Jin sect instead of the Jiang.

Right Hand Man - ao3

It was a bad day.

All the days were a little bad, but this one was especially bad.

“He’s Cangse Sanren’s child,” Jin Zixuan’s father said, tapping his fan against his palm so that he would look more like a scholar. Secretly, shamefully, Jin Zixuan thought that it didn’t really work – he just looked like one of those scoundrels that tried to pay for their meals with calligraphy instead of pennies. “Taking him in will show our strength.”

“You dare bring one of your bastard children here,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, “and I will drown A-Xuan myself rather than let him suffer through the shame of it.”

Jin Zixuan shivered. No matter how many times he heard his mother say that in her cold and vicious voice, he never got used to it. She’d explained to him that it was the only thing that might work on his father – the fear of losing face like that, of shaming his ancestors, of cutting off his legitimate line – and she was his mother so of course Jin Zixuan believed her, but sometimes when she said it like that he thought she might really go ahead and do it.

“It’s the immortal mountain,” his father argued, ignoring the threat. “The perceived connection is only to our benefit…and anyway, he wouldn’t be legitimized or anything. Legally, his father is that Wei Changze – I could even bring the boy in as a servant if that pleased you more!”

“Nothing you say or do will ever please me,” she said, and that’s when she started throwing things and he started shouting and Jin Zixuan waited until they weren’t paying any attention to him before slipping out.

They’d make a decision one way or another.

It didn’t have anything to do with him.

-

Wei Wuxian was nominally brought in as a guest disciple, but everyone knew he was really a servant.

Jin Zixuan’s mother made sure everyone knew.

Despite this, Wei Wuxian smiled at everyone, seeming as carefree as a butterfly. It didn’t seem to bother him when he wasn’t allowed to wear sparks amidst snow, or even the usual gold of the guest disciples – Jin Zixuan’s mother said that it was better that he wear plain colors, like white or black, to represent his father and mother and show the world that he hadn’t forgotten his filial piety. It didn’t seem to bother him that he had to room with the other servants, or that he wasn’t invited to dinner at the same time as the rest of them, or that he got less training time –

Whatever it was, it didn’t bother him.

It bothered Jin Zixuan, though.

He started having the old nightmares again – the ones where his mother belatedly found out that he’d been swapped in the cradle for another bastard child of Jin Guangshan, and started treating him just the way she treated all the rest of them while praising some other boy up to the heavens – and his temperament, never considered especially good, got worse due to lack of sleep.

“Go talk to him,” Mianmian suggested. “Maybe if you see he’s reallynot bothered by it…”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s not bothered,” Jin Zixuan muttered. “It’s that I would be bothered if I were him.”

She didn’t understand, of course. Most people didn’t.

They couldn’t understand why Jin Zixuan was so bothered by the knowledge that his parents’ love was conditional on his bloodline and legitimacy – after all, he was the beneficiary of that bias, wasn’t he? What did it matter to him if they were cold to others?

Jin Zixuan didn’t know how to explain that the problem was in knowing that their love was conditional.

It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian was excelling despite all his disadvantages – all their teachers praised him in private, or else when they thought that no one surnamed Jin was listening. All of his mother’s dark speculations about what his father would do if ever there was a bastard child brought back that turned out to be even more talented than he was rang in Jin Zixuan’s ears, and he couldn’t help but look at Wei Wuxian, and wonder if this was it, this was the moment, if he was finally going to be replaced…but no, that would never happen. He was the one with the right blood.

It didn’t matter if he wasn’t actually the best.

Nothing he did in life mattered, really. Nothing had ever mattered since the day he’d been born from the right womb.

“He’s actually really nice,” Mianmian said, and Jin Zixuan looked up, wondering what she was talking about, only to blanch when he realized that she was talking to Wei Wuxian. “Just shy, that’s all –”

“Mianmian!” Jin Zixuan hissed, rushing over, horrified. “He can’t be here! If my mother finds out –”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Wei Wuxian asked, his face brightening. “I thought you just didn’t like me!”

“I don’t know you,” Jin Zixuan said. “How could I dislike you? But really, my mother –”

“We can be friends!” Wei Wuxian declared, and Jin Zixuan was rendered immediately mute. What exactly could he say to that?

He wanted to be friends, too.

-

His mother found out, because she always found out, and when she did, she threatened to feed Wei Wuxian to the dogs.

It turned out that Wei Wuxian was scared of dogs, something Jin Zixuan’s mother had figured out pretty quickly. That wasn’t a surprise – she knew best how to find people’s weaknesses, and also how to use them. Looking at Wei Wuxian’s sickly pale face, it was clear to Jin Zixuan that this wasn’t the first time dogs had appeared in one of his mother’s punishment, although this was clearly more severe than in the past.

“It was my idea,” he lied, acting on impulse. “Mother, I want him to be my personal servant.”

“Ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“Why is it ridiculous?” he asked. “Wouldn’t the contrast between us only be magnified that way?”

She pursed her lips, but that wasn’t a ‘no’.

Seeing a possible waver, Jin Zixuan decided to trade away one of the very few point on which he and his mother had long disagree.

“He’s charming,” he said. “He can help me woo the Jiang sect girl.”

His mother knew him well enough to know that he was trying to manipulate her, but he also knew that she liked it when he did that. Men were supposed to be upright, straightforward, and virtuous, and yet she liked to see him being subtle and sly – it reminded her of herself. It made her feel like he was more her blood than his father’s, even though in actuality those traits could very well be his father’s, too.

Unfortunately, sneakiness wasn’t really in Jin Zixuan’s nature. Comparing his straightforward and even a little stupid self to his clever and cunning parents, he didn’t know who he took after – it was part of the reason he had so many nightmares about being some cuckoo’s child left in the Jin sect’s nest.

“Fine,” his mother said at last. “He gets one shot.”

Later, when she’d swept off, an empress with her retinue, Mianmian looked at Jin Zixuan with wide eyes. “But Jin-gongzi,” she said. “You don’t wantto marry the Jiang sect girl.”

“I’ve never met her,” Jin Zixuan hedged, which was also true but a little vaguer. He didn’t want to marry a girl he’d never met, one who was several years his elder and who had been described to him only as ‘nice’ and ‘average at best’, just because her mother was his mother’s old friend. He didn’t want his marriage to be yet another thing he had to do because he was someone’s child, rather than his own man.

He wasn’t going to get a choice, though, no matter what he did, just as always. Might as well use it for something good.

Wei Wuxian crashed into him a moment later, clutching him so tightly that it hurt.

“I’ll pay you back,” he promised, his voice tight. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be your best friend ever!”

“That’s good enough,” Jin Zixuan said, his face suddenly hot. “There doesn’t need to be anything more.”

-

Wei Wuxian really was very charming when they went to visit the Lotus Pier, far more charming than Jin Zixuan ever was or would be, and his future bride seemed positively enchanted by him, which was probably a bad thing.

Jin Zixuan felt he should probably do something about it, but he didn’t know what, so he just snuck off and went to go dip his feet into the river, something he almost never got the chance to go while at home.

“I’m sorry,” the Jiang sect heir, Jiang Cheng, said, sitting gingerly next to him.

Jin Zixuan looked at him sidelong, a little surprised. He’d thought that Jiang Cheng hated him. “What for?”

“My sister. Your half-brother.” Jiang Cheng looked uncomfortable. “I can’t even imagine growing up with someone who’d flirt with the person I was engaged to.”

Jin Zixuan thought it over, then shook his head. “I don’t think he likes her like that. Or her him, either,” he said, since it seemed like Jiang Cheng had misunderstood both Wei Wuxian and his own sister. “Wei Wuxian’s just – like that,” he added. “Always. Everyone loves him unless they’re specifically told not to.”

“That’s worse.” Jiang Cheng wrinkled his nose. “He’s the ‘other person’s child’ here, you know. My father really liked his parents – he’s always talking about him. My mother says he wishes he were his son, instead of your father’s.”

“Now that sounds awful.” Probably better for Wei Wuxian, though. Jiang Fengmian would probably treat him like a real son, not the way Jin Guangshan did, like a pawn or a liability or a bastard brought in just for his possible connections – but it would probably be much worse for Jiang Cheng, who’d have to live with that happening right in front of him. It seemed mean to wish for such a thing. “He’s actually pretty nice? We’re friends. I asked him to help me make friends with your sister…I’m not really good at making friends, when it’s just me.”

He hadn’t expected them to hit it off that well, though. At least to Jin Zixuan’s eyes, they’d clearly all but adopted each other as brother and sister the moment they laid eyes on each other…which in his opinion was actually a little bit worse, since he felt like he himself was still painfully trying to figure out what being a sibling was like, and maybe failing at it.

And in all honesty, he felt a little resentful at Wei Wuxian for being picked, too – or was it a little bereft? No one ever picked him just because they wanted to; it was all because of who he was.

Who his parents were.

“I can be your friend, too, if you like,” Jiang Cheng said. He was scowling into the distance. “A better one.”

“Uh,” Jin Zixuan said, startled. “Don’t you – not like me?”

“We’re friends now,” Jiang Cheng scowled at him. “Deal with it!”

-

Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a lot, and he liked Jiang Cheng, too, and Nie Huaisang, who he’d just met, fit in with the two of them as if they were three peas in a pod, so he guessed he must like him, too – but if those three endlessly chattering idiots didn’t shut up and let him study he was going to throw himself off some cliff in Gusu and be done with it.

“You really don’t mind me sitting here?” he asked Lan Wangji, who nodded.

Nodded and did not respond verbally – blissful silence!

Still, Jin Zixuan lingered a bit by the door to the peaceful little pavilion he’d found and thought to claim for himself as a secret study place – necessary on account of the fact that Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang spent all their free time together making trouble instead of studying, because Wei Wuxian just did that to people, winning them over despite themselves and then leading them into mischief – only to learn that it belonged to Lan Wangji. It was filled with gentians, which were more Jiang Cheng’s color than Jin Zixuan’s, but Jin Zixuan had seen enough peonies for a lifetime and needed the concealment besides.

It was very kind of Lan Wangji to let him stay, but he still felt he ought to apologize.

And not just for the intrusion.

Wei Wuxian’s ignominious departure from Lan Qiren’s classroom had made it much more peaceful, but that had come at a cost to Lan Wangji’s own education and opportunity to make friends with others – and while Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a great deal, he wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji felt about being stuck having to monitor him all day.

And now Lan Wangji was being nice to Jin Zixuan, letting him disturb his privacy like this without complaint, and even agreeing to let him stay so that he’d have somewhere quiet to study…he really ought to say something. Maybe apologize for Wei Wuxian, if that was appropriate. It probably was: he was responsible for him, in his own way. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure how to start the conversation –

“Do you like Wei Wuxian?” he blurted out, then felt his face go bright red. He hadn’t meant to ask it that way! After all, who didn’t know how much Lan Wangji disliked Wei Wuxian? He was always glaring at him and saying he was speaking nonsense and telling him to get lost and –

Lan Wangji nodded.

Jin Zixuan blinked. He did? But then why –

“Oh,” he said, suddenly realizing. “You’re socially awkward, too!”

Lan Wangji frowned at him, and Jin Zixuan waved his hands.

“No, no, I don’t mean that as an insult,” he said hastily, trying to cover for his blunder. “It’s like me! I always say the wrong thing, so most of the time I try not to say anything – of course people always get the wrong idea anyway, thinking I’m being quiet because I’m looking down at them…Wei Wuxian’s getting better at understanding people, but he’s still not very good at it, either. I bet he has no idea! If you like him, you should say as much.”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“…I could say it for you, if you want?”

Even more urgent head-shaking.

Honestly, if Lan Wangji were a woman, Jin Zixuan would’ve thought that he had a crush.

As it was, he was probably just like Jin Zixuan: naturally awkward, and shy about it, too.

“It’s all right,” he said encouragingly. “Next time they throw a party, you can come and sit with me; we can have tea and pretend not to know them. It’s what I always do.”

Lan Wangji stared at him for a long moment, and then finally nodded very slowly.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, voice neutral. “Thank you.”

-

When the time came and the Wen sect pushed things too far, naturally Jin Zixuan stood up for Mianmian.

Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji all did, too.

Naturally, this made Jin Zixuan feel like complete crap on their account – Mianmian was his friend, his sect, and naturally he had a responsibility towards her; the rest of them were just helping because they were good people, and good friends. But at this point they’d done it, and Wen Chao was angry at them all over it, and there was nothing to be done about it.

And then there was the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and they were all trapped inside with it.

Sometimes, he really hated the Wen sect. Often, even.

“Jiang Cheng, you and Jin Zixuan lead the way out,” Wei Wuxian instructed. “No, don’t protest! You’re heirs of Great Sects; everyone will follow you and listen to you, and that’s critical – you’ll need to evade the Wen sect’s efforts to recapture you. That means cohesion, and cohesion means hierarchy. I’ll stay behind to distract the Xuanwu…”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng exclaimed.

Jin Zixuan nudged him. “Wei Wuxian’s usually right about this sort of thing,” he reminded him. It was a good thing they’d gotten over that period in their lives when Jiang Cheng thought Wei Wuxian was an evil thief who wanted to take away his older sister and Jin Zixuan’s rightful spouse, when they’d fought all the time while Jin Zixuan desperately tried to get between them. He still had no idea what magic alchemy had happened that had suddenly made them best friends – he suspected Mianmian, or maybe Jiang Yanli – but he was deeply grateful for it. “And we can’t risk the majority. Preserve human life above all else, remember? Teacher Lan’s lessons were very clear.”

“I will remain with Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, to no one’s surprise. They’d been more or less inseparable after Jin Zixuan had recruited Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang to help them get along better after Wei Wuxian’s temporary exile to the Library Pavilion had ended. It helped that Lan Qiren had pulled Wei Wuxian aside for personal lessons to help him catch up with the rest of them, and that those had somehow metamorphosed into afternoon sessions about inventing new types of musical cultivation techniques in which Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were the most enthusiastic, and only, students.

Best of all, it had given the rest of them a chance to finally actually do their work.

Well, not Nie Huaisang, but that was only to be expected.

“But your leg –” Wei Wuxian started, and Jin Zixuan nudged him.

“He’ll only be more worried if you don’t let him stay back and join you,” he said reasonably. “Anyway, it’s good for you to have an incentive not to detour into some big flashy heroic bullshit.”

“Awww, but Jin Zixuan, I like big flashy heroic bullshit!”

Jin Zixuan was, by this point, almost entirely convinced that Wei Wuxian actually was the biological child of Wei Changze, and that his father had lied, both about the man’s supposed infertility and possibly about having slept with Cangse Sanren at all. From Jiang Cheng’s stories, inherited from his father, it seemed that Wei Changze was also the sort of person who went in for big flashy heroic bullshit and reckless humor, the sort that would win him a disciple of an immortal mountain as a bride; it certainly seemed more likely than him sharing blood with Jin Zixuan or his father or even Jin Zixun, all of whom tended towards arrogance, but whose flash was all in their clothing.

Not that it mattered at this late date, of course. They were brothers now – as Nie Huaisang would put it, there were no takebacks allowed.

“No bullshit, you hear me?” Jin Zixuan repeated, looking pointedly at Wei Wuxian. “Not allowed. Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t make me have to tell Mistress Jiang that I lost her favorite idiot friend.”

“You tell her?” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I’ll have to tell her. All right, let’s go.”

-

Jiang Yanli was not impressed with the fact that they’d left Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji alone in a cave with a giant murderous turtle.

She still made them soup and gave them bandages to wrap up their bloody feet, though.

(Jin Zixuan was never going to make a good impression on her, no matter what Jiang Cheng said.)

-

“Wen Chao has demanded recompense for the mess at the Nightless City,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, reading a letter. Her lips curled up in a strange little smile. “He said Wei Wuxian’s right hand would do.”

“Mother,” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, leaping to his feet with his eyes wide. He’d only been home a week from the indoctrination camp, and Wei Wuxian was still lying in bed most of the time, pretending he wasn’t exhausted; Wen Chao must have sent the letter almost immediately after he’d realized they’d escaped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s just what the little bastard deserves, always trying to outshine you.”

Jin Zixuan shook his head, frantically trying to think of a way out of this, because he knew his mother wouldn’t so much as hesitate to order such an atrocity. She’d never forgiven Wei Wuxian for the possibility of being a threat to Jin Zixuan’s position, however remote the chance, and she’d tried very hard to convince Jin Zixuan of it, too – it was the only thing they didn’t agree on, the only thing Jin Zixuan didn’t yield to her on, and he hated every moment of it.

But not as much as his mother hated it.

It was the only thing she couldn’t control in his life, and she hatedit, and hated Wei Wuxian for it, too.

(She couldn’t hate Jin Zixuan. She couldn’t, because he had the right blood, because he was her son, because he was the heir of Lanling Jin and the source of all her power. But sometimes, when the light was dim and she glanced over too quickly and thought she saw his father when she looked at him, he thought that she wanted to.)

“You can’t be serious,” Jin Zixuan said a second time, keeping calm by sheer willpower. No one but him would dare to object if his mother made a move, especially in his father’s absence…and even if his father was there, Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure his father cared enough about Wei Wuxian to endure another fight with his fearsome wife. “Mother, he’s my servant – my responsibility. Whatever he does is my responsibility, whether to my credit or to my deficit. That’s how that works. They may be asking for Wei Wuxian’s hand, but who’s to say, when they come to claim it, that they won’t seek mine instead?”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s the Wen sect,” Jin Zixuan reminded her. “What don’t they dare?”

She pursed her lips, thinking it over, and for a moment he thought he’d won. “Perhaps,” she allowed, and before he could even breath a sight of relief continued, “But no matter. They’ve set the price, and we can pay it, so why not? We can cut off his hand and send it to them as a peace offering in advance. After all, they’re important allies of ours, and he’s just a bastard.”

“But –”

“No, A-Xuan. No more arguing; I’ve decided.” Her smile broadened. “We’ll do it now.”

Jin Zixuan couldn’t fight with his mother. He’d never had the courage – he was as spineless as his father.

Almost as spineless.

“Yes, Mother,” he said, and drew his sword.

“A-Xuan..?”

“My servant, my responsibility,” he reminded her, and he knew that she’d misunderstood, that she thought that he was going to go take care of the grim task himself. He knew, because for a brief moment in time she looked happy – not true joy, but the only way she ever looked happy for as long as he could remember, like she’d won one over on someone and gotten her way despite everyone’s efforts. He hated to disappoint her. “I have my honor to think of, too.”

-

Jin Zixuan sent Wei Wuxian to the Lotus Pier, bearing words of warning. His father’s spies had reported that the Wen sect would probably target them first, using Jiang Cheng’s interference in the Xuanwu cave as an excuse – there wasn’t any point going after the Lan sect a second time, and the Jin sect were longstanding allies of Wen Ruohan, with Jin Guangshan being a coward at heart; if Wen Ruohan could keep him out of the inevitable war for a little longer by playing nice, he would.

Word came back not long after that they’d been right: the Lotus Pier had been destroyed.

It also said that Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli were missing – missing, but not dead. It didn’t say anything about their parents, and that was suspicious, too.

Maybe sending Wei Wuxian had helped after all.

“We should reach out to the Nie sect,” Jin Zixuan told his father. “With our money and their strength, we can resist the Wen sect long enough for the smaller sects to catch up.”

“The Wen sect is all-powerful,” his father objected. “What’s even the point of resisting? We’d be better off reaching out to them to see if we can reach a peaceful agreement.”

“We’ve already seen what agreement they want to reach,” Jin Zixuan said, and his father’s gaze dropped guiltily to his waist. Jin Zixuan didn’t bother looking down himself. He didn’t do that much, these days. “Am I your heir or am I not? You promised me that I’d inherit a sect, not slavery. Reach out to the Nie sect.”

Jin Zixuan should not talk that way to his father. He had always been a filial son, and a spineless one; his father’s son, and nothing else. The only thing he had going for him was the right blood – and even that wasn't that sure a bet, these days. He knew his father was already thinking about Jin Zixun in a way that suggested that all those rumors about his ‘cousin’ having a different father than the one everyone said he had might have some merit.

It seemed, though, that when pushed to it, he was also his mother’s son.

He hoped she choked on the knowledge.

“Reach out to the Nie sect,” he said again. “With all the cultivation world uniting, the Wen sect’s fall is inevitable. If we don’t act now, we’ll be seen as cowards, hanging back and waiting to see how things fall out to eke out the best advantage – if we act, we’ll be seen as heroes.”

“But what if you’re wrong, and the Wen sect does win?”

“Then we’ll tell Sect Leader Wen that we’re perfectly positioned to negotiate the other sects’ terms of surrender, and use that to win anyway,” Jin Zixuan said, less because he thought that was an acceptable course of action and more because he knew it would be what his father would do anyway. “Call the Nie sect.”

-

“I’m going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng hissed, wild-eyed, and Jin Zixuan blinked at him, taken aback.

“Is it because I wasn’t able to do more to help with the Lotus Pier?” he asked, feeling helpless. “I really did try to convince my father to send more people, but I barely even got him not to block my sending Wei Wuxian –”

“Not because of that!”

Jin Zixuan took a step back. “Uh, then –”

“You cut off your own hand you maniac!”

“The situation –” Jin Zixuan started backing up. “It was necessary – Wei Wuxian, help!”

“No, he’s right,” Wei Wuxian said, arms crossed. His eyes were teary, but they’d been that way since he’d left Jinlin Tower – ever since the Wen sect’s letter. “You’re a maniac, and Jiang Cheng’s going to kill you, and you’re going to deserve it.”

Lan Wangji, standing beside him, nodded.

“It’s not that bad, really.” Jin Zixuan tried to explain. “My mother and father would never have accepted anything else – threats to me are the only thing that work on them, and even that’s stopped working after all these years. Only a real injury would have an impact. If they hadn’t been so shocked, they would’ve just continued to ignore what the Wen sect was doing, or offered them an olive branch, and then then the Wen sect would’ve used that as an opportunity to come and divide up everyone else. We’d lose precious time to regroup, and the Wen sect would only get stronger and stronger –”

“You. Cut. Off. Your. Hand!”

“The Wen sect demanded the hand of the person who started the rebellion in the Xuanwu cave,” Jin Zixuan said quietly. “That was me, not Wei Wuxian. Why should he pay my debts?”

Everyone still seemed very upset, but maybe a little less murderous. Definitely a lot more teary-eyed.

“Couldn’t you have at least picked your other hand?” Wei Wuxian mumbled. “Your right hand – that’s your sword arm.”

Jin Zixuan shrugged. “They demanded the right hand,” he said. “Anyway, it’s fine, I’ve been using my left, and it’s been going smoothly enough…you know, I think I might actually be left-handed? I never knew; everyone always made me use my right.”

“Does it hurt?” Lan Wangji asked suddenly, and Jin Zixuan hesitated, not sure how to respond to that.

Unfortunately, everyone else took that in the worst way possible, and insisted on taking care of him, no matter how much he tried to explain that it didn’t hurt, not really, not anymore; it was just the strangest feeling of absence. Like something that had always been there wasn’t there anymore.

A bit like his mother. She wasn’t talking to him anymore.

He was a terrible son, and would probably end up spending eternity in some afterlife hell being tortured for failing to properly honor his parents.

He’d already resigned himself.

“How are your parts of the war going?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Chifeng-zun says it’s going well, but you know how he is; it’s all business with him, you never hear any stories. Did Wei Wuxian really knock out old Sect Leader Jiang when he refused to leave the Lotus Pier? Tell me he didn’t.”

“He did,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked amused about it – maybe he’d be in the next boiling pot over in the afterlife of unfilial descendants. “He was a little frantic, you see, on account of not wanting to fail you by letting them die. After all, you had just cut off your own hand for him…”

“Are you ever going to let that drop?”

“Sure. As soon as you have two hands again.”

“…so, never.”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said patiently. “Never. Never ever, if that makes it clearer for you.”

-

Jin Zixuan’s new hand was made of steel and wire, under the gilding, and functioned using some of the innovative new talismans that Wei Wuxian had invented. He couldn’t help but hope that they weren’t part of the subset that constituted demonic cultivation because people were being really weird about that.

“It’s like people wanted for me to just die in the Burial Mounds,” Wei Wuxian complained. He was dressed in black and grey and red, which he’d apparently adopted as his new sect colors – Jin Zixuan had only managed to send him out of Lanling the first time by officially ejecting him from the Jin sect, a decision his father had initially endorsed but now, he suspected, was regretting.

It was a lot easier to throw out a servant than it was to invite back the founder of demonic cultivation, especially now that he was a war hero and a sect leader.

“You didn’t have to be in the Burial Mounds to begin with,” Jin Zixuan reminded him, to no avail. “I know I said I needed an army because my father wasn’t supplying us properly, but I didn’t mean ‘invent an entirely new cultivation technique and raise an army of the dead’. You know that, right?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged it off, because of course he did.

“You know, they’re calling me the Yiling Patriarch?” he said, and grinned. “It’s because the Burial Mounds are in Yiling, and because I’m founding my own sect. Or whatever. Like I wouldn’t be supporting you, anyway.”

“It has to be your own sect because otherwise you might be forced to share your secret techniques,” Jin Zixuan explained, not for the first time. “Rogue cultivators don’t have the same protections that sects do, even small sects. It doesn’t matter if you’re the only person in it. Or, well, you and Lan Wangji, I guess.”

“I still can’t believe he’s willing to leave the Lan sect to join me,” Wei Wuxian sighed happily. “He’s such a good friend.”

Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure about the strength of his new hand, which was the only reason he didn’t try to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re a bad influence, you know,” he said instead of trying to explain to Wei Wuxian that people didn’t generally leave their natal sects for the sake of a ‘good friend’. “I nearly hit a girl the other day.”

“You did? You? What’d she do?”

“She gave me soup and implied that she’d made it,” Jin Zixuan said. “Except it tasted exactly the same as the soup Mistress Jiang is always making for you – I’ve had it recently enough to know. Sure enough, I push the issue a bit and it turns out it was Mistress Jiang’s. The girl was just trying to claim credit as an excuse to get close to me.”

He sighed. He’d been so angry about it. They were at war! People were dying, losing their homes, losing everything, and this stupid girl could only think about how to plot and scheme to try to get to a prized position as the future Madame Jin. Had his mother done the same, when it’d been his father…?

“You’ve had shijie’s soup recently?” Wei Wuxian asked. His expression looked slightly odd. “Shijie made you soup?”

“Yeah, I think she’s been dropping off whatever’s left over at my tent when she’s done,” Jin Zixuan said, shaking his head. Jiang Yanli was so nice, really truly genuinely nice. He’d never met anyone like her. “Could you thank her for me? I appreciate the thoughtfulness – it’s filling enough that I don’t need to go to the mess, which means there’s more left over for everyone else.”

“…sure,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ll tell her. Or, and here’s a thought – why don’t you tell her yourself?”

“Why would I? You’re the one she likes,” Jin Zixuan said, puzzled. “I mean, you’re her adopted little brother, aren’t you? She’s practically your second soulmate, after Lan Wangji.”

“I’m really busy,” Wei Wuxian announced, despite having been lazing around complaining that they didn’t have any encounters with the Wen sect lined up for a whole week only a few moments before. “I couldn’t possibly take the time out of my schedule to go talk to her – you see, I’ve had an idea, which is going to keep me very busy…in fact, I’m not even going to be here at all! I need to go to the Lan sect encampment to consult with Teacher Lan.”

Discovering that Lan Qiren had a mad scientist streak when it came to musical cultivation had been extremely disquieting, Jin Zixuan reflected. The world might’ve been better off if Lan Qiren had never had a chance to actually get friendly with Wei Wuxian – Wei Wuxian provided the terrible ideas, Lan Qiren scolded him about them and then helped him smooth the kinks out of them anyway.

Teacher for a day, father for a lifetime…

“All right,” Jin Zixuan said, though he still didn’t exactly understand what had just happened. “I’ll go talk to her, I guess.”

-

“I just wanted to make sure you know you’re not obligated to make me soup or anything,” Jin Zixuan said, not sure where this conversation had gone off the rails.

Probably around the time that Jiang Yanli had started smiling at him, because he always turned into an idiot whenever that happened. She was so very nice, not just average at all no matter what anyone said, and blissfully down-to-earth – she wouldn’t be wasting her time and everyone else’s thinking about how to politically advance herself despite there being a war on. She spent all her time learning field medicine and helping cook meals for the mess and –

And he’d better stop thinking because he was turning red again.

“I enjoy making soup for you,” Jiang Yanli said peaceably. “Especially since I know you enjoy it, too.”

“I do! It’s just, I don’t know, you already do so much, with the medics and organizing and everything…It’s – uh – I – listen, I know our parents – you don’t have to pay attention to that. I only have one hand, I’m not – don’t feel obligated, not because of that. And don’t let Wei Wuxian make you think making soup is the only thing you’re good for, no matter how much he likes it, okay? You do so much more than just that!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, covering her smile with her hand. “You’re very sweet, you know.”

Jin Zixuan made an incoherent sound.

He would need to do something in return, he thought, a little frantic; he really didn’t know how to deal with a sincere compliment from someone he actually liked. Maybe poetry? Girls were said to like poetry. He couldn’t write poetry worth a damn, but he could pay someone –

She kissed him on the cheek.

All thought abruptly departed.

“Don’t worry, it’s not inappropriate – after all, we’re already engaged,” Jiang Yanli said cheerfully. “Which I’m very good with, so don’t worry about that. Good luck in your next battle, Jin-gongzi.”

At some point she must have left, because she wasn’t there anymore, and Jin Zixuan was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

Mianmian peeked in, then snickered. “Oh no,” she said. “She broke him. Everyone! Come look! She totally broke him!”

-

“Did you actually cut off your hand to save a servant?” Jin Guangyao asked.

“It was a bit more complicated than that,” Jin Zixuan said, uncomfortable, then added, “Welcome to the family.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

For some reason, Jin Zixuan felt a shiver run up his spine. He didn’t think he liked this new brother of his, and he felt bad about it – he’d welcomed Wei Wuxian whole-heartedly, hadn’t he? Was it really that different when it actually was someone of his own blood?

He didn’t like that thought.

“I hope we can be friends,” he said, willing it to be true, and Jin Guangyao murmured something agreeable in return.

Jin Zixuan wished he liked him.

“My mother is going to hate you,” he said, because he knew that she would. “If she does, let me know, and I’ll try to stop her…not just her. If anyone treats you wrong, just tell me. I’ll stand up for you.”

Jin Guangyao smiled again.

“You’re so kind,” he said, and for some reason Jin Zixuan had the feeling that he didn’t mean it at all.

-

Jin Zixuan had been engaged since before he was born, and it still somehow came as a surprise to find himself married. Not just the event, either – these days he woke up with his wife in his arms and was forced to just stare at her lying there in the soft morning light and wonder how he got so lucky.

He was married.

To a very nice girl, who actually seemed to like him a great deal – she’d made that clear enough when she’d had a chance. Very clear, in fact, which was why there was also a very slight curve in her belly that meant that soon enough he wouldn’t just be married, but a father.

“You’d tell me if I was dreaming, right?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who was visiting again. He did that a lot, but in fairness he didn’t really have a settled place to live – everyone knew the supposed ‘sect’ he’d founded was little more than a sham. He’d been technically kicked out of the Jin sect and refused all offers to rejoin, and it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to scandalize the entire cultivation world by marrying into the Lan sect no matter what Lan Xichen had been hinting. Sometimes he and Lan Wangji spent time at the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, or the Unclean Realm with Nie Huaisang under Nie Mingjue’s long-suffering gaze…everyone called Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch, on account of him ‘founding’ his sect there – or rather, summoning up extra resentful energy from the Burial Mounds for the purposes of obtaining an army while minimizing the number of disturbed graves – but he wasn’t, not really. He didn’t live there or anything.

Who would want to live there?

“I would,” Wei Wuxian agreed, but he didn’t follow it up with teasing or anything the way he usually did.

He just looked very uncharacteristically perturbed.

“What is it?” Jin Zixuan asked. “Can I help?”

“No heroic bullshit,” Wei Wuxian said at once, which meant that there was a possibility of heroic bullshit. Given Wei Wuxian’s personality, that also meant that it was heroic bullshit that would be bad for the Jin sect, which he still felt bad about on account of them raising him and all…in all honesty, it might be a good thing in the long run that Jin Zixuan’s father and mother had been so awful to Wei Wuxian as a kid, and that he’d known it. If they’d been good to him, he never would have been willing to leave. “But, uh, remember Wen Ning?”

Jin Zixuan blinked. Wei Wuxian had told him some stories: a junior disciple of the Wen sect, from a branch family – Dafan Wen – who’d helped Wei Wuxian out a few times when he’d been smuggling the Jiang clan to freedom.

More than a few times: he’d been Wei Wuxian’s first disciple in matters of resentful energy, which Wei Wuxian had apparently been thinking of since forever and started playing around with more or less the moment he was no longer officially tied to a sect, and had been a valuable contact during the early period of the war before events had changed and he’d been lost.

“Yes,” he said. “What about him?”

He hadn’t thought of Wen Ning in ages, beyond abstractly hoping he was doing well. It might be hard, with a surname as he had, but surely there was somewhere in the cultivation world for those surnamed Wen – Wei Wuxian had argued fiercely in favor of leniency for the remaining Wen cultivators, and the Lan sect had backed him, thanks to Lan Wangji. The rest of them had been exhausted, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng and his parents, even Jin Zixuan…his father had ended up volunteering their sect to help with resettlement of the refugees, which had been a pleasant surprise.

Sure, Jin Zixuan knew his father well enough to know that he was only doing it for the clout and possible advantage it would give him, but he was pretty sure the Wen civilians didn’t especially care why they were going to get a reprieve from death and a new place to live, only that they did.

“I’ll get there,” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s a bit complicated…you know how Jin Zixun’s in charge of resettlement?”

Jin Zixuan nodded, puzzled. “What about it?”

-

“You can’t do that!” one of the guards shouted at Wei Wuxian. “We’re disciples of the Jin sect –”

“Is that so,” Jin Zixuan said, and they all turned to look at him, each one of them blanching in utter horror. “And why didn’t I know that my Jin sect had such people as you?”

“Where’s Wen Ning?” Wen Qing asked Wei Wuxian, looking desperate. “I don’t see him…Where is he?!”

“That monster?” one of the guards blurted out.

“My brother is not a monster!”

“He’s been hiding in the woods,” one of the Wen civilians volunteered. “He’s been raiding the camp, rescuing people who are being abused –”

“Our response was reasonable in light of his aggression,” the guard argued. “He used demonic cultivation – he’s a monster! We had no choice –”

“We’re going to need to question them,” Jin Zixuan said to Lan Wangji, who was looking faintly murderous in his usual righteous sort of way. “To find out who’s their backing – Jin Zixun wouldn’t have dared something like this, not on his own. Can you bind them for me?”

-

It was his father.

Of course.

-

“A-Yao, what do you want?” Jin Zixuan asked, and Jin Guangyao stopped in his tracks, staring at him in confusion – as well he should, since he’d only come into Jin Zixuan’s study in order to say good morning on his way to breakfast. “No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I meant, you know, in life.”

Jin Guangayo blinked at him.

Probably not the best question to spring on someone before breakfast, Jin Zixuan reflected.

“It’s about the trouble that my – that our father got into,” Jin Zixuan explained. “The other cultivation sects are furious to no end that he took advantage of their trust in order to do such a disgraceful thing…I’ve ordered Zixun to be confined for now, and I suspect he’ll have to be banished to some country house for a few years. And as you know, my father will be retiring soon and handing over the position of sect leader to me…”

Neither of them especially wanted that to happen, his father as loathe to give up power as Jin Zixuan was to take it. But what other solution was there after such a scandal?

The Lan sect, ever concerned with morality, had been horrified when they’d found out what had happened; the Jiang sect, despite their close relationship to the Jin sect, had immediately denounced it, and Jiang Yanli, who was Wei Wuxian’s friend, was the very first to speak. The Nie sect, never a firm ally for the Jin sect, was growling about righteousness, and if Nie Mingjue was sincere about that being his only concern – and having worked with the man, Jin Zixuan believed he was – then there were plenty of others in the Nie sect that had their eyes on the greater influence and power that would accrue to their sect if Jin Zixuan’s father were allowed to bring his sect down with him.

Handing over power was the only way to make sure their Jin sect remained strong.

“He won’t be alone, at least,” Jin Zixuan sighed. “I won him that much.”

Jiang Fengmian had agreed to step down from his position as sect leader as well, making it seem as though Jin Guangshan’s retirement were voluntary, part of a joint agreement of the older generation handing over power to the newer. Everyone would know in their hearts that that wasn’t the case, but it would be far less shameful than the alternative – saving a little bit of his father’s face.

“You did well,” Jin Guangyao said, listening with a neutral expression. “In uncovering everything, and revealing it.”

“I would’ve brought you in to help, but I couldn’t,” Jin Zixuan explained. “I know he asked you to help in finding demonic cultivators to join the Jin sect, and…”

He hesitated.

“He implicated me?” Jin Guangyao asked.

He had. Their father was shameless: he’d even sought to move all blame to Jin Guangyao’s back, whether as the actual mastermind or, when that was rejected, as the inciter of the scheme. Nonsense, of course.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Even if Jin Guangyao had suggested it, it would have been his father’s responsibility to refuse.

“No one believes it,” Jin Zixuan said, which was only partially a lie. “Even Chifeng-zun laughed in his face and said you wouldn’t be nearly that stupid.”

Jin Guangyao looked – oddly pleased by that, if Jin Zixuan had to guess.

“Still, it’s awkward,” he said, rubbing his head. “People talk, and our subsidiary sects have never been as quiet as some others…you don’t have to tell me right now what you’re planning, or what you want in the long term. But maybe – uh – you have two sworn brothers. Is there any chance…”

“I could go visit them for a while?”

Jin Zixuan smiled helplessly. “I wish it weren’t necessary. And if you did know what you wanted, I could take it into account when planning the future…”

“No, no,” Jin Guangyao said. “Visiting my sworn brothers will be – fine.” He looked thoughtful. “You said Chifeng-zun didn’t think I was involved?”

“Zewu-jun was also vociferous in your defense,” Jin Zixuan said, trying to elide the fact that it wasn’t so much that Nie Mingjue didn’t think Jin Guangyao was capable of such atrocities, but rather that he declared, and loudly, that if Jin Guangyao had intended to do something horrific like that, he’d have handled it better. Judging by Jin Guangyao’s amused expression, he might have guessed anyway. “I appreciate your understanding.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

Jin Zixuan thought he might even mean it, this time.

-

“I’m an uncle!” Wei Wuxian crowed, holding Jin Ling in his arms. “I’m an uncle, I’m an uncle!”

“Big deal,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, which would be more convincing if he wasn’t beaming foolishly. “So am I. Hand him over...hey, A-Ling! It's me, your jiujiu!”

“Can I be an honorary uncle?” Nie Huaisang asked – Jin Zixuan had no idea when he’d even arrived, or why he was here, or anything, really, but that was probably because he hadn’t really slept on account of over-excitement. “I mean, my brother’s sworn brothers with Jin-xiong’s brother, so it works, right?”

“That’s ridiculous –” Jiang Cheng started.

“No, I love it!” Wei Wuxian immediately declared. “That means Lan Zhan’s his uncle, too!”

“Wei Wuxian…!”

“Don’t worry,” Jin Zixuan said, hugging Jiang Cheng out of sheer excitement. “You’re his only jiujiu, right? Everyone else is related through me, so they have to share.”

Jiang Cheng seemed pleased by that, and Wei Wuxian laughed.

Nie Huaisang was calculating on his fingers. “You know,” he said thoughtfully. “This might be the most well-connected baby in the entire cultivation world? The only thing we’re missing is the Wen sect…Jiang-xiong, how about you marry Wen Qing? Then we’d have them all!”

“That is not how I’m determining my marriage!” Jiang Cheng yelped, but notably didn’t reject the idea.

Jin Zixuan looked at Jiang Yanli, who looked back at him, and they both started laughing.

There was more noise after that, and eventually Jin Ling woke up and started crying, making everyone start fussing like a bunch of old hens surrounding a long-suffering Jiang Yanli who’d already grown accustomed to it in a way the rest of them hadn’t.

It suddenly occurred to Jin Zixuan that everyone who was here was here because they wanted to be. Not because of his name or his wealth, not because he was Sect Leader Jin, not because of the circumstances of his birth, but just because they liked him – because they wanted to celebrate with him, and to cherish his child, to share his joy.

It was a good day.

All the days were a little good, but this one was especially good.

[miekasa]

no cus 😭 dad levi au x med su where,, holden looks up to him so much that, she too, is insistent on entering the field herself. ofc the 5 y/o still doesn’t actually know the realities of the medical world but whenever she goes to visit her dad in his office and sees him in his scrubs, she looks at him with the biggest eyes, just in awe. she asks for a pair of scrubs and a white coat (obv with ackerman embroidered into it) of her own and you think it’s the strangest thing ever that this five year if asking you for a white coat for christmas. she just admires him that much ☺️

kiaan thinks his dad looks goofy in his scrubs and giggles every time he sees the sight but is mesmerized by all the equipment at the hospital. (i lOve the idea of levi being a neurosurgeon,) kiaan still doesn’t really understand what surgery is, and gets quite squirmish and clings onto his dad when levi goes into detail trying to explain it to him. he does, in fact, have a play med kit (a gift from levi to his beloved) at home and drags levi or holden into playing with him.

when aria was born, you best believe the obstetrician and the nurses were on their best behavior because we’re talking about Levi Ackerman M.D., Head of the Neuro Department’s soon-to-be youngest daughter. the nurses have heard about how cold and stern he can be with his co-workers and students, but they see a whole ‘nother side of him when he gently holds aria for the first time with the softest eyes peering down at her. just a father and his precious children.

STOP IT RIGHT NOWWWWW other kids ask for play kitchens or those toddler sized range rovers, and Holden requests a very official white coat with her name embroidered on it. She has a few plastic doctor toys on loan from her brother, but her most prized possession isn’t her coat, it’s an actual stethoscope (gift from Hange) that she treats like gold. Levi always stresses to her that she doesn’t have to want to be a doctor just because he’s one, but Holden always shakes her head and gives him an all too familiar pout, before reassuring him, “I wanna be Dr. Ackerman, too!”

The idea of a three year old boy laughing at his dad being in scrubs is so so precious pls. Levi’s coming home from being on call for 12 hours (which is the longest shift he’s willing to take since Holden was born—and even then that’s far too long away from you and the kids), back from a long day of saving lives—and his son is giggling that “Daddy’s already in his PJs!” Kiaan couldn’t care less that Levi does brain surgery for a living, to him his daddy wears pajamas to work. Despite being sorta squeamish when Kiaan does learn/ask about what Levi does, and teasing him for his scrubs, Kiaan still thinks it’s cool. Not understanding doesn’t stop him from dressing up like Levi during pajama day at school, or using one of Levi’s many fleeces as his jacket of choice on a chilly walk to school, or asking Holden to “listen to his lungs.”

The pressure the newer/younger folks on the obstetrics team in charge of your labor and delivery feels is insane. The more senior nurses are relaxed—the ones that have known Levi since he completed his residency and have watched him work his way up to being on the hospital board, one of which even helped to deliver both Holden and Kiaan. But God fucking forbid the residents miss a single thing on their checklist when delivering Mrs. Ackerman’s child. (They don’t, everything runs smoothly, and Levi, of course, thanks them all generously for their time and effort. They’re hardly processing the praise, however, still trying to render the image of Dr. Ackerman holding a newborn so very gently into their minds. Maybe their neuro rotations won’t be as scary as everyone makes them out to be). 

[solarisrenbeth]

Elara Vethier

augur from Dirth’kinai, the holy city of Mydras • born on 9 of Spirits, Sundrench • follower of Cailo, goddess of death and rebirth

I commissioned @rickety-goose for a character sheet of my beloved @faithofgods augur Elara and I’m losing my mind a little bit about how absolutely stunning it is 😩 Ren, you absolutely smashed this out of the park and I am forever in awe + so, so grateful 💕

everyone please please check out the detail shots (including a bonus accessory) under the cut bc the way Ren renders gold is actually insane.

[guqin-and-flute]

[I am once again giving you an unrelated fanfic. Have some Modern married Xiyao.

Potential CW: poor anger coping skills?, very brief mention of suicidal ideation in internal dialogue. It's an errant thought and he doesn't actually mean it]

Jin Guangyao is upset. What's more upsetting is that he doesn't know why he's upset--this lack of information rankles him more than the feeling. He's used to feeling badly. That's how life is. But without a name, there is nowhere to file it away neatly. It is easier to ignore the sharp sting of a newly noticed cut than this fucking awful malaise that has apparently decided to settle over him with no rhyme or reason like he's some stupid idiot in an artsy French film, slowly choking down filtered cigarettes on some rusty balcony against a sunset or something.

That's not what he does. He is efficient. He is useful. And when he is like this, he is not.

And he still doesn't know why. And the fact that he cannot categorize and escape this has the ennui sliding slowly into a slow boil of tooth grinding fury.

Had it been the morning traffic? The fact that the library had emailed to inform him of a delay on his inter-library loan? The fact that his overpriced coffee was just a tiny bit burnt? The fact that Zixuan had taken a sick day today and so had not brought the soup his wife had promised Jin Guangyao for lunch? It shouldn't be, because these are all so horrifyingly trivial.

He has a tension headache beginning to string itself along his temples. He hates that the receptionist has a perky goodbye ready. He hates that the sun is shining so brightly. Then, he hates that the shadows of the clouds when they pass make things look grungy and dull. He hates that there is a flap of leather from his steering wheel that has peeled up in the back from his picking and he can feel it rubbing against his index finger as he stares, white knuckled and unblinking into the brake lights ahead of him as this bubbling pique crescendos as slowly as one of Xichen's beloved classical music pieces.

In fact, one is playing on the radio, softly, just within hearing range. The quiet, shrill edge of violins makes him want to kill something. Maybe himself. There's a bridge coming up in half a mile. He, very sanely, presses the button on the dash that turns it off instead of doing any of those things. The thought of Xichen has a voice of reason suggesting that he might meditate, while trapped here, 10 minutes from home.

Instead, he jabs a button on his fancy, stupid steering wheel with this thumb. An attentive computer noise beeps. The sudden noise in the relative silence of the car makes him dig his nails into the leather. "Text A-Huan," he snaps.

"Okay! What would you like the message to be?"

Jin Guangyao is going to find whoever programmed this faux-friendly robot voice and make them watch him drown their entire family in a toilet. "I. Hate. Everything."

Beep. "Okay! Your message reads; 'I hate everything'. Send?"

"Yes, send," he seethes before it can fully finish.

There is no plan to this. None at all. He just needs something real to sink his metaphorical teeth into. A reasonable anchor to reality to tell him whether or not he's being stupid and terrible for no reason at all.

Even though he already knows that he is.

The response returns in 43 seconds. Jin Guangyao had been counting. The cheery beep sounds just as the very stale green light turns yellow ahead. He presses the gas. "One message from A-Huan."

The light blinks red while he is only 1/4th of the way through the intersection. The lead car of the adjacent left turners beeps and he bares his teeth at her because he isn't fucking invisible, he's in a high profile gold Lexus and she had definitely seen him fucking coming. He stabs the button that makes the car read him the message.

"'Oh no. Bad day? Want to call? Blue heart emoji'," the female robot voice chirps in a butchery of his husbands words and no, no, he does not, because, at this point, it would simply be a minute long sustained scream of rage over literally nothing at all. He should have kept it to himself and found a quiet place to throw rocks at a wall or something until he wasn't such a repellant time bomb.

He does not reply because if he hears that robot voice again, he's going to commit vehicular homicide. And being arrested would not calm him down.

Finally, traffic parts and he pulls into his driveway--he notices how the bush on the side of the house's branches are creeping up to scrape the window of the kitchen and makes a mental note to send a curt text to the landscaper about his pruning habits. Why are they paying him several hundred dollars a month to let a stupid bush get unruly enough to damage the paint on his window trim?

When he slams his door shut, he hears a loud CLACK that announces that he has just closed his seatbelt in the door and lost the last tenuous thread of his temper. Heaving the door back, he plants his other hand up on the black plastic next to the window and smashes it shut again with all of his strength. Repeatedly. CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK--Chunk.

Breath hissing between his teeth, he jerks his suit jacket straight, loosens his tie and stalks to the house. The garage door groans to life behind him. Xichen had been watching.

Perfect.

He's nowhere to be seen when Jin Guangyao slams through the backdoor like a vicious thundercloud, which is good and probably intentional, because it allows him to wrestle off his shoes, jacket, and tie in privacy. This does nothing to release any pressure, because it must be intentional wrestling--controlled and confined so he doesn't pop off a button or rip a seam or scuff the shining black leather. Now he's seething in their immaculate, state of the art kitchen, hating how the cold tile feels against his black dress socks and the fact that it smells like tea. Which is stupid. Because he likes tea. But not right now.

Stop being a piece of shit, he snarls at himself. You've already probably fucked up the car and Xichen doesn't deserve this. He balls up his fists so tightly that the bright pain from his nails sinking into his palms leaks up his arms. Be better.

He has no idea how to do that because he has no idea what is wrong.

Reason says to steer clear of Xichen until he can get a hold of himself and behave like a fucking adult. And in the early days of their relationship, he would have. He had. Whenever he got like this, he would shut down or not have inflicted himself on Xichen at all with a smooth lie, and no amount of prying would get anything useful out of him because he would not be a bother. There had been Talks. Long, extensive Talks about trust and love and wanting to take care of him. He had even believed some of them. That's how they can be married, now, years later--Xichen knowing just how close he is to this at all times. How thin his veneer of manners and pleasantries actually is. (He can't truly know, though, can he. If he knew how much none of it makes sense, there is no possible way someone as kind and intelligent as him would choose to stay.)

Xichen would purse his lips if he said this out loud; somewhere between exasperation and sad fondness. Jin Guangyao doesn't tell him, anymore. Most of the time because he doesn't actually think this.

This is not most of the time.

Yes, reason says that he should suck it up and become a human being before burdening Xichen.

But his husband has long, cool hands and soft eyes and a brilliant mind that can solve any problem just by holding it and maybe he just wants to be small and angry and ugly and pathetic and selfish in the comfort of his own home while someone reminds him that there have been, in fact, good things that have happened in his life and he had been, at one time, happy--believe it or not.

And if nothing else, it compounds his streak of bad decisions.

The smell of tea intensifies when he reaches their room. The curtains are drawn. It renders the deep, dusty blues of the bed spread and the armchair black and the aged gold accent pieces muted, except for where the warm light pouring from their open bathroom door paints them bright again. Xichen sits on the edge of their bed in the soft, expensive loungewear Jin Guangyao got him for his birthday last year, one ankle on his knee, watching him with eyes just as soft as he had been expecting. A mug of tea is tucked into his hand and a plate with round, lumpy shapes sits by his hip. Beside that lays spread out the absurdly oversized and absurdly soft heather gray shirt that Nie Huaisang had gifted to him as a joke but was, in fact, one of Jin Guangyao's guilty pleasure sleep shirts.

With his perfect voice and his perfect logic and his perfect way of being the only good thing on this entire, worthless planet, his husband says, "I think you need to scream into this pillow."

'This pillow' is, in fact, one of theirs, dark blue with a thread count that was higher than any savings he ever had in college, perched on a bundle of blankets that is the perfect size to throw himself upon like a sulking romance heroine. He hates it. Hates that this is known, that this might help.

So he fucking does it. He deliberately stalks around the bed, climbs up, smashes his face into the pillow and screams as loudly as he can. With every single ounce of rage in his body, curling him up like the shriveling of a raisin in fast forward, like the curling of a scorpion tail, like throwing up, wringing every last scant molecule of oxygen out of his lungs.

When the sound peters out and he has to drag in another breath, he curls tighter, the claws of his hands reaching over the top of the pillow to fist in his hair. It presses the plush of it firmer over his face and bites it until his teeth ring with dull pain, and his jaw aches and his head throbs and his eyes sting. His scalp burns from the pull on his hair and his throat is raw and tight.

Tearing himself away, finally, he gasps in a gulp of cooler air. Xichen has turned so he is now cross-legged at the foot of the bed, watching him with a mix of calm and understanding sympathy. "Lay down?"

There is a ragged, hollow hole in him that still has scraps of rage clinging to it like disgusting lichen--but the visceral, all consuming hate seems to have been absorbed by his pillow. So he lets himself roll sideways, eyes closing. Xichen gets off the bed--Jin Guangyao assumes, wearily, that he's putting down the tea mug and hopes that he uses a coaster--and then returns by knee walking up the bed to his side. Then, those cool hands he had been hoping for pick open the tiny hard buttons of his shirt. Each pop releases a a tension across his skin and he feels that he can breathe easier with every one.

Jin Guangyao can hear him breathing, slow and measured, through his nose and thinks that it's probably the most comforting sound that he's ever heard in his entire life--now that he's willing to be comforted. Able to be. The reminder of Xichen's continued existence is the only sound he will ever need to be calm again.

The button up is abandoned in favor of undoing his belt--breath, more of it, infiltrating him deeper and deeper--popping the button on his slacks, tugging them down his legs in a warm slide. The quiet clink of it being tossed somewhere. A closing quiet as Xichen leans in and presses his smooth lips to his forehead. Then the corner of his eyebrow. Then the bridge of his nose. Different points and planes of his face like he is unlocking a combination that will open him up and allow him to purge the rest of the awfulness that lingers.

What it mostly is is exhaustion, now. "A-Huan," he groans--whines. Ugh.

Before disgust at himself can settle in, his husband takes this as the invitation for what it is and kisses his mouth, gentle and slow. Jin Guangyao moves his mouth back, halfheartedly, mostly parting his lips to allow him access to do whatever. But all he does is kiss him chastely. Lovingly. He tastes like green tea. Then, Xichen murmurs against his lips, "Would you like a bath?"

He vents a negating grunt, lolling his head back and forth. Baths are so much work. Even when Xichen offered to wash his hair or read to him or even join him, you still had to keep it hot, you had to endure cold when you left, get yourself dry. Too much change, too much sensation and movement.

He should be shaking himself awake. He should be apologizing for his terrible, pointless mood. He should be trying to kiss him back, love him back, pay him back. Thank him.

Xichen merely lifts his hands and presses the heels of his palms into the hinges at Jin Guangyao's jaw, inexorably grinding the tension out of them. Jin Guangyao allows himself to melt. When those cool fingertips slide into his hair, he lets them tug him upright, so Xichen can slide off his button up and slip him out of his undershirt. He shivers against the chill of the bedroom air, but he doesn't feel a surge of utter hatred for the sensations so, well, that's something. In no time, Xichen has coaxed him into the oversized shirt, removed his socks and bundled him up against the padded headboard, tucked into Xichen's side.

Jin Guangyao allows this. He allows himself to allow the blanket to be tugged up over his bare legs, Xichen to tuck the warm mug of steaming mint tea into his hands, and wind his fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and takes in a deep, shuddering breath before sighing it all out. Xichen's fingers rub soothing circles across his sore scalp.

"Open?"

He cracks one eye to see a cookie hovering at mouth level. It's too dim in the room to properly tell what kind it is, but because Xichen has been perfect in literally every other way, he simply obeys and bites down. Browned butter and sea salt and semi-sweet chocolate ooze across his tongue and the instant spike of sugar satisfaction warms his chest. Jin Guangyao chews with utter contentment, swallows, and opens his mouth again.

"Good?" Xichen's amused voice vibrates warmly through his chest as he indulgently feeds him another bite.

"Mm. Very. Did you make them?"

"I did, earlier today. I just got lucky with the timing." His nails scrape oh so gently across his scalp. "How are you doing?"

Instead of answering, Jin Guangyao blinks up at him and his sweet, kind, ridiculously gorgeous face that is graced by a light smile and a gold edge light from the bathroom.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Being terrible."

"You're never terrible."

"I was today. I think I fucked up the car."

Xichen chuckles, smile crimping to a knowing press. "I saw. It won't be a big deal. We'll deal with it later."

"...Thank you."

"Of course, A-Yao. Do you still hate everything?"

"Mm-nn." He snuggles down deeper against his ribs, looping an arm around Xichen's warm waist. He has the best husband in his arms, his dark-sweet scent is in his nose, chocolate on his tongue, and 1000 count sheets against his skin.

What is there to hate?

[dokifluffs]

Your Ex Wanting You Back | Ushijima, Bokuto, Kuroo

Pairing: Ushijima X Reader (gender neutral), Bokuto X Reader (gender neutral), Kuroo X Reader (gender neutral) 

Genre: angsty, love

Request: “can i request a hc to your ex wanting you back while you’re with them..? for bokuto, kuroo, ushijima? tysm i love your writing” -anon

Author’s Note: omg I loved writing this sm and I added an angsty, bad relationship past with Y/N and the ex teheh. Thanks for requesting, anon! Hope you all enjoy!! 

Warnings: implementations of manipulation of money (Ushijima), Black mailing (Bokuto), and verbal abuse (Kuroo) ((Also, their names is not THEM doing that to y/n, it’s what their y/n experienced with their ex)) 

Ushijima: 

Arriving at the gym a bit early, you stood near the doors where the teams would be entering so you could wish Ushijima the best of luck

Though he didn’t really need it with his skill and raw strength but it was the thought that counts

The audience slowly began to take their seats, chatter filling up the spacious gym as the teams entered

You suddenly felt hands crawl up your sides, making a smile spread across your features

“Ush- you,” the smile faded when you turned around to find your ex instead of the loving boyfriend you were with

“Since you’re here, why don’t we catch up, hm?” He asked with his hands still on you, his fingers squeezing your side

This made you feel very uncomfortable since it brought up bitter memories you had with this guy

His lies came out as easy as breathing to him and it made you sick

The countless number of hours you wasted being with him, thinking he actually cared about you when all he cared about was using you for his own benefits

The cigarettes he was able to buy with the money he “borrowed”

All your emotions you thought you left behind you suddenly churned inside of you, making you feel sick seeing his face so close to your face once again

His Smokey breath right in your face

“Get off of me,” you demanded as you tried to pry his hands off of you but he was strong

It made you remember the grasp he had on you and how sour things ended between you two but it was for the best of course

“Don’t be like that, bab-“

“They said to stop.”

A strong latch was held onto his wrist forcing him to release you

“Hey, who do you-“ the words stopped from his lips as he turned around to look up, seeing the Ushijima

He looked down to him with his stoic eyes as well as his team looking from behind their captain with their piercing and intimidating eyes

Y/n protection squad has arrived

He knew exactly who this man before you was

Those nights he held you close in his arms to soothe you of your sadness and the pain he inflicted on you

Ushijima usually felt neutral to everyone but he was disgusted by him

“Don’t come near them again,” his voice low as his rumbled in his throat

With that said, the guy scrambled off and his team continued into the gym to follow their warm ups while Ushijima stayed behind

“Are you okay?” He asked placing a hand to your shoulder

“Yeah, thanks,” you gave him a relieved smile as you took his hand from your shoulder into yours

“Good luck today. Win another one,” you said as you pressed a kiss to the back of his hand

His lips pulled into a thin smile as he nodded before joining the rest of the team with their stretches

Bokuto (ft. Akaashi): 

The sun was hot as it beamed down on you and a few of the other managers from other teams as you all took your turns to fill up the water bottles for the teams

The gym felt hotter on the inside since there was poor air circulation and it didn’t mix well with five high school volleyball teams playing for almost the entire day

But it was all for the better to help their skills as players and bonds as a team

You chatted with the other managers about the teams until it was finally your turn to fill up the water bottles for your team, Fukurodani

“You guys don’t have to wait for me,” you said as you waved off to them as they carried their water caddies, bringing them back to the sweltering gym

As you turned, back toward the faucet, you were met with a sudden chest that made you fall back, knocking some of your bottles to the ground

“Y/N, what a coincidence to see you here,” the silky voice of your ex made chills run up your spine as he squatted down to your level

“You looks so cute with that expression on your face,” his hand holding your jaw with his sinful eyes looking into your eyes, taking in the shaken look over your features

You shook out of his grasp, picking up the water bottles all around you so you could fill up your bottles and be on your way

You could hear your heart racing in your chest and the cold feel of fear spreading in your chest making goosebumps rise over your skin in the heat

“Do you want to model again for me?” He asked dangerously close to your ear

“Please go away,” you moved away, trying your best to fill up the bottles

“Oh come on, those pictures I took of you were beautiful,” his voice sensual in your ears, it brought up all the shameful memories

How were you so naive you didn’t realize how wrong things were before it got so bad

“What do you think you’re doing here,” the sound of Bokuto’s voice pulled you out of the dark as he grabbed the guy’s shoulder from behind, forcefully pushing him away from you

The guy was rendered useless seeing Bokuto with Akaashi behind him knowing he wouldn’t win if he got into a fight

“I strongly suggest you leave,” Akaashi spoke straightforwardly

“Tch, whatever” he spit as he carried on his way, away from the three of you

You let out a visibly relieving sigh as you looked up to the sky to blink away the tears you felt stinging at your eyes

“I’m here,” Bokuto’s voice was much softer with you along with his touch as he took you into his arms despite how sweaty he was

But you didn’t care

He was the one in your life, not that revolting excuse of a human

Akaashi and Bokuto helped you finish filling the bottles and carried them back to the team, cheering you up by telling you the weird dance the Karasuno team as they chanted about meat for some reason

Kuroo (ft. Kenma): 

The sky was a beautiful mix of golds and rich oranges as the sun was on its journey to set beyond the horizon, making way for the early night

You walked with Kenma and Kuroo as the three of you walked to the convenience store for some drinks after their practice

You listened intently in the good atmosphere around with your best friends and your love, Kuroo as he told you about how funny Lev was when he failed syncing with Kenma’s sets

This got Kenma to sigh, going on a little tangent as he continued to walk and play on his device

Your bright laughter lifted their energy a bit more and Kuroo loved your laugh

It made it felt like nothing could go wrong in the world

You waited outside the store as the two went in to get drinks and you watched the horizon, taking a picture of the golden sunset, your eyes wide at the beauty of nature

“I see you’re still taking those stupid pictures,” the sound of scoffing was right in your ear

You flinched automatically away from the voice as you turned to see him again

And it suddenly felt like a wound was opening in your chest. A wound you thought closed when Kuroo helped mend it

How was he able to rip it open it easily

“Aw, don’t give me that look, Y/N. I’ve missed you,” he said as he slowly took steps toward you as you instinctively stepped backs the words you wanted to say to him stuck in your throat

But what did you want to say when he was always able to turn the words back to you, the venom rolling off his tongue

“Haven’t you missed me too?” He asked, his face dangerously close to yours as he backed you against a telephone pole on the side of the street, one arm over your head while his other tucked in his pocket

“I know you have,” he purred, smirking devilishly as the hand that was resting above your head cane down to stroke your face

“Don’t touch them,” Kuroo spoke with a sweet sound in his voice, a smile on his face but you could feel his anger

You had told him and called him countless times when you woke up at night cause of he words your ex had seared into your mind about you

All were false but words had a way with sticking

The hold he had on the guy’s hand was almost bone crushing as he controlled his temper around the guy who had hurt you so badly

He never wanted to see him and he never wanted to see you so sad

He wanted to see the smile you were able to show him after a long time

“Oh? And what’re you gonna do?” He mistakingly asked

“I’ll show you something to be scared of, you piece of trash,” Kuroo cursed as he squeezed the guy’s hand until his knuckles were white, his entire demeanor different as he sent a death glare at the guy

“Alright, alright,” he finally piped up, trying to hide the clear pain Kuroo was putting on his hand

Kuroo let him go and watched him go off, sending him a glare when he looked back, standing in front of you so he couldn’t even see you

“Let’s go home,” his aura lighter around you as he handed you a drink nonchalantly, holding you close with his arm wrapped around your shoulders protectively

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else! 

Tags (send me an ask if you wanna be added): @yams046​ @mazey-chan​ @sunboikyo00​

[snoodlebeans]

so i made a little fanfic for my gf @squishybellies cause i suddenly got a huge desire to write about our kinnies being gay >:3

(tw for implied violence and some gore)

"Darling, I'm home!~"

The monstrous figure's baritone voice fills the halls as he enters through the front door, having to hunch down in order to keep from destroying its frame. The tips of his horns just barely scrape against the ceiling as he lumbers towards the living room, toothy grin wide and eyes gleaming in delight. He had just returned from a very successful hunting trip, with one hand the size of a human's torso dragging in a blood-soaked bag holding a decent amount of flesh inside. The pungent smell of iron begins to fill the house - a four-course meal to his senses. Once he reached the kitchen he turns his gaze towards the massive cauldron resting in the left corner; dropping the bag besides it, he goes to fetch some water. It would take a few hours for it all to boil and simmer, especially when adding the spices and vegetables - they'd have to soften up, so preparing today's meal had to start early.

Only when his back is turned does the floor directly beneath the now unattended meat turn an inky mix of purplish-black. Wisps of energy seep out into the air as a clawed wing emerges from below, its gold-embedded skin shining in the dying light of the day. It gropes around for a few moments before catching a feel of flesh held inside burlap, after which the upper half of the creature comes forth: fur lavender in hue, ears and horns hidden by a bicolored jester's cap, a body donning a suit of the same pattern... and an expression that goes beyond hunger into pure greed. As soon as the acrid scent hit his nostrils saliva begins to seep from his jaws, and he glances towards the distracted, hulking figure ahead of him before proceeding to tear into the sack, reaching for the treats inside and stuffing a hunk of raw meat into his mouth before he can be seen and have to wait before food is ready-

"Impatient and impulsive as ever, I see."

The jester froze mid-thievery, cheeks stuffed with flesh as his eyes trailed up towards the coy grin staring down upon him. Sure, Marx's shenanigans can get irritating sometimes, especially when Neil is trying to get things done. But there's something about the jester's actions that render them oddly endearing in a way. What's the word he's looking for? Cutely annoying? That sounds about right.

Marx proceeded to gulp the chunk down whole, slowly retracting his grip from today's catch while maintaining eye contact. His pupils were pinpricks , face crimson now that he's been literally caught red-handed.

"I was hungry-"

"You're always hungry, dear."

There was a pop as the gluttonous comic pushed himself free from his shadowy, multidimensional hideaway, licking his talons clean as he hovered in place, watching as his love worked.

"What'd you get? Some poor guy who just happened to come across you and was an easy catch?"

"A hunter, actually. His screams as I ran my claws through his skin were delightful.~"

"Aw, now I wish I coulda heard 'em..."

With the water poured and the fire beneath starting to glow, the gentleman of a beast turns his attention towards the other parts of the stew: carrots, celery, onions, potatoes, a little bit of parsley just to give it that earthy flavor...

It all gets pushed into the water as it begins to boil, adding to the lovely sound of it bubbling with each chopped piece plopping into place. Soon a lovely aroma fills the air, steam wafting through the open window and into the evening sky.

grrrrmble.

"Still hungry, I assume?~"

Neil gives a deep chuckle before heading over to give Marx a soft kiss on his fluffy cheek. He always seemed to taste of cotton candy - not exactly Neil's absolutely favorite flavor, he's always been more of a savory kind of monstrosity, but it's quite pleasant in its own way.

The jester giggles a bit in sheepish joy at such a gesture, which he quickly reciprocates with a smooch back.

Y'know, I can never put my finger on what his flavor is...

... Why don't I just get a better taste?

"C'mere.~"

Marx embraces his love in a tight hug before opening wide, jaws popping out of place audibly as his bloated tongue snakes out to gently coil around the chimeric monster's neck, maw closing around Neil's head as he gives a muffled shout of surprise. The jester then begins to swallow noisily, throat bulging outward with his companion's bulky frame as it slides down his gullet inch by inch.

Oh, right. Gotta taste him.

Saliva-coated tissue flicks against Neil's chest and limbs, flavor molecules hitting the jester's tastebuds as he finishes devouring his boyfriend with a loud GLRK. His clothes rip almost immediately, seams around his burgeoning middle tearing to reveal a few fluffy bits of turgid fat, belly nearly touching the floor. Eh, he needed to get a new suit, anyway; he can just use this one for lounging around the house. He sighs, hunger now satisfied and feeling that perfect sensation of overfullness when his gut is stretched to its near limit, warm to the touch and making it harder to walk in that lovely, bloated way-

"Marx honey, I was working on our dinner for tonight, but it seems I can't do that now..."

"Eh, you needed a break. You've been working pretty hard today, so how about I finish it up for you? You can take a break right inside here.~"

Marx pats his overgrown belly with a smug grin, just to emphasize the mischievous situation his love has gotten into.

"Well, I suppose you could-"

"It's settled, then! Just relax while Chef Marx gets it done.~"

Hoisting up his gut with both arms before letting it flop back forward with a noisy SLORSH, Marx snatches up the soup ladle before beginning to stir. A few moments pass, and he abruptly snaps his claws as realization hits him.

"Oh! I figured out what you taste like, sweetie!"

"... And what exactly is that, dear?"

"Kinda like fish with lemon juice squeezed on top of it!"