#i should turn this run into a fic but like all the dumb snippets that happens lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

c-is-for-circinate · 1 year ago

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Kind of want to toss more snippets of things that probably won't become long extended fics up onto tumblr. So: Eddie/Chrissy, with deeply bisexual ADHD disaster child Eddie, because we deserve it. (Also background hints of Steve/Nancy, but rest assured Eddie is 100% projecting and highly incorrect about that dynamic.)

Chrissy lives, through sheer dumb luck -- a tape shoved into a player out of some vague idea in the back of Eddie's mind that he could be smooth, could maybe help a pretty girl who for some godforsaken reason seemed to like him have a good time -- and it's great, it's incredible, it's more luck than any of them should've ever dared hope for--

And Eddie is thrilled, obviously. Terrified out of his mind, pretty sure he should be running for the hills, but. Chrissy Cunningham is alive, and for some bizarre, unfathomable reason, she seems to like him.

It's just...jesus christ, what is he supposed to do with that?

It's not that Eddie doesn't like girls. Girls are pretty, and smell good, and have curves in places he's maybe imagined putting his hands a time or two (thousand), and have generally starred in at least thirty to forty percent of his favorite jerk-off fantasies for the past several years. But the general class of females of approximately his own age in Hawkins, Indiana have heretofore been somewhat disinclined to follow up on Eddie's occasional flirtations, and somehow he doesn't think the other skill set is going to be much help here.

It's just...look. Eddie knows, he knows goddamn well that for ninety-nine point nine percent of guys like him, whose eyes skate over the slope of a gentleman's broad shoulders as readily as the swell of a lady's hips, that the easy road would mean playing straight for sixty-some-odd years, marrying a nice girl who doesn't ask too many questions, and maybe getting the occasional blowjob in a truck stop bathroom from a pretty boy you pretend you don't want half as much as you actually do. Of course he knows that. He's given those blowjobs, a lot more often than he's ever had a nice girl like Chrissy Cunningham look at him twice. Because that's the thing, isn't it, once again the Munson luck striking right at the heart of things. Once again, Eddie isn't like every other guy in Hawkins or Indiana or, fuck, the whole damn world probably. Can't just do things the normal way. Has to do everything opposite, and look where that's gotten him lately.

Truck-stop bathrooms are easy. The grit of them, the feel of cold tile through thin denim, the taste of latex and the smell of musk and sweat and come, a thick-fingered hand in his hair and the press of tight muscle under his fingertips, the rush of knowing that even on his knees, he's the one with the power here -- it's good. It's so good, the back rooms of that bar in Indy where one flash of his fake ID gets him an all-access pass to all the sex a boy could want, no strings attached. Slipping into that space is almost as easy, as natural, as slipping into the DM's seat at Hellfire. He doesn't even have to change his look, just makes sure the bandana is tucked into the correct pocket and they come to him, ready to let Eddie take the reins and drag them into something just painful enough to be really satisfying when they make it through to the end.

That's the thing about being a freak. That's the thing, that's always the thing, the backwards mixed-up thing in Eddie's brain that had him reading Tolkien before he turned nine but can't get through one Charles Dickens novel without wanting to scrape himself out of his own skin. He can calculate probabilities and percentage tables for a D&D game in his sleep but can't sit still through a single math class. It took less than a week to get note-perfect on the entire Master of Puppets guitar solo and six years might not be enough to graduate high school.

So yeah, Eddie knows how to be a freak and a faggot, can take a grown man to pieces with his hands and his voice and his dick if he just clicks into that zone where he has all the power to shape the world the way he wants it. That doesn't mean he has any goddamn idea what to do when Chrissy Cunningham smiles at him like that and he trips over his own feet.

He should be looking at Harrington. Steve goddamn Harrington is striding around like that, absolutely shirtless, streaked in dirt and his own blood like some goddamn primal warrior come to life. That would be safe. Safer. Something. Pretty boy in just the right amount of pain, Eddie should be enjoying the eye candy, but he can't because: 1) they're literally in hell and monsters could come after them at any time, 2) Nancy Wheeler apparently has a bedroom full of actual guns and is still in love with her ex-boyfriend, so Eddie's pretty sure he'd better keep his eyes to himself if he wants to keep them at all, and 3) far more importantly than all of that, Chrissy is scared enough to be holding his hand and he's terrified that his palms might be sweating. She's so pretty. He wants her to actually like him so, so badly. This is an absolute nightmare.

"You doing okay?" he asks Chrissy quietly, letting her lean on his arm to help her over some rough terrain when they have to take a detour around a knot of vines. She clutches at his sleeve and smiles timidly, putting on a brave face that makes Eddie want to do something insane like find a suit of shining armor just so he can bow to her in it.

"We're going to be fine," she says. "We just have to get to Nancy's house and it'll all be okay. Right?"

"Gonna let Wheeler make you a a total badass with a gun?" Eddie asks, and then mentally kicks himself. Who flirts with a girl by calling her a total badass? How do smooth guys flirt with girls if they stick around past the initial five minutes of inviting them to come see your band, which literally no girl has ever actually said yes to before? Eddie isn't even sure he has a band any more, if Chrissy's ex-boyfriend has anything to say about it, which means he's kind of out of ideas.

Eddie has one blinding, insane moment of wondering what would Jason Carver do here? before he almost chokes on his own tongue. Fuck. He really can't do this.

"Maybe," Chrissy says, a little shy, and slides her hand down his arm to slip her palm into his again. "Do you think I could?"

There's a smudge of dirt on her perfect nose. Eddie wants to lick it off. Oh god he's a freak. You can't lick cheerleaders. Fuck, Eddie doesn't even know how to go down on a girl. Fuck, why did he think about that. It doesn't matter! He's never going to get the chance! Chrissy is never going to want him to touch her like that anyway!

"I think if the last few days have proven anything, it's that literally anything is possible," Eddie says, and then realizes he just implied that Chrissy being a badass is even more unlikely than alternate dimensions, which is probably even worse than calling her one in the first place, and holy shit, how is it even possible to be this awful at this? Why is she still standing here with him? "I mean, I could even stop being a coward who apparently runs away from absolutely everything, which I've discovered I am now, that's how weird things are, so yeah, compared to that, Chrissy, I think you could absolutely be a badass if you wanted to be."

"I don't think you're a coward," Chrissy says, and she's stepping closer, why is she stepping closer, tucking their arms together. "I mean, I couldn't even run away. He would've gotten me right there, if you hadn't..."

"Luckily I think Harrington and Wheeler are big enough heroes for all of us." Eddie catches sight of them up ahead, Wheeler on point like a hunting hound leading the way, Harrington keeping watch on all sides with that flashlight ready to spring into action at any minute. It should probably be Harrington back here with Chrissy, if he and Wheeler weren't so obviously the perfect battle couple together. Hell, even Buckley, who's up front with Nancy right now and who Eddie knows he clocked checking out Chrissy's legs earlier. She's awkward, yeah, but on her it'd be endearing, and maybe Chrissy deserves better than cowardly asshole boys for a while anyway.

She definitely deserves better than Eddie. She tugs him out of the way of a vine half a second before he trips over it in the dark, like a klutz and a dumbass, and Eddie curses himself for a failure.

#C writes stuff #stranger things #snippets #Chrissy Lives AU #hellcheer #look I APPRECIATE the chemistry these two have greatly #I just think more fic about them needs to let Eddie be 1) extremely queer even when he likes a girl #and 2) an unmitigated flailing dork

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fluffehpenguin · 2 years ago

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I WANT TO SHARE THIS STUFF, OKAY!! I miss writing SO much and I'm getting back on the horse

Here's some snippets to help decide:

/First One:

The carrier is wrecked beyond repair. The cockpit is torn in half and he can spot pieces of the engine’s motor and its coolant leaking into the earth. He takes a full 2 seconds to appreciate that his head is still attached to his body, never mind a lack of extreme brain damage.

Which instantly comes into question when something bright orange pops up in front of him.

“-Oh, this is rich,” A figure flickers into existence, back turned. It takes its time observing the situation, shaking its head and raking a hand through its slicked hair. Said hair doesn’t budge. “You’re unbelievable,” It turns, gesturing at the torn-up shuttle, flames and all. Dressed entirely in orange hues, the electric blue eye is the only deviation from the figure’s colour palette. “I’m the one you set as the emergency safeguard?” The figure scowls, arms crossing. “O-Or are you just sadistic enough to put me in that thing,” its finger points to the hexagon on his tattered jacket, “So I can rot out here with your corpse, Jack.”

Silence and sand stands between them, unhurried. And it takes a moment to click, but when it does, it hits him like a bumper to a skag.

“That’s- my name’s John, pumpkin, and you’re acting real high and mighty for an AI.”

◇-------◇

/Second One:

“How was I supposed to know? Come on, it’s just one bangle,” the man whines. The man matches every step Jack takes forward with a backwards step. Jack snorts. What a coward.

“Yeaah, pumpkin, and the shiny thing is much more valuable than your pitiful life,” Jack growls, pausing as he watches the man furiously shake his head. It took one more step before there was a shriek as the man’s foot hit the air- having backed out the attic’s window. His fall was stopped as Jack grabbed the stranger’s cloak, keeping him from plummeting to the ground below.

“And it’s certainly not worth the reward I’m waiting on. So, be a good boy, give me back that bangle and run along.”

There’s a moment of defiance written in a frown and lowered brows. It’s cute for all of two seconds. Jack goes from upright to being violently shoved backwards and falling onto his ass. The stranger rights himself with a gust of wind. He shoots Jack a smirk as he slides the bangle onto his wrist.

“No. I don’t think I will.”

The magic user breaks into a sprint past Jack, whose grip misses the other’s ankle. Great. First, I’m bested by a vampire and now a young, dumb mage? He growls and stumbles back to his feet, rushing after the footfalls.

◇-------◇

/Third One:

“Jack, if you wanted to dance, you didn’t have to drag us here to do so,” Rhys says, breathless as they skate through the crowd. Said crowd is not so graceful as people rush to make space for them. Thankfully, his deep maroon suit against Jack’s yellow satin waistcoat is hard to ignore.

The man in question grins. “Come on, Rhysie- it’s way more fun with an audience and booze I didn’t pay for,” he replies, clasping Rhys’s hand tighter and pulling him closer to avoid a collision.

Rhys can’t argue with that. However…

“Did it have to be on the Zanara, though?” He complains, managing not to falter as he’s flung out and twirled back into Jack’s arms.

Honestly, the entire moment is bizarre. To think that he’d be here, with Handsome Jack as both his plus one and Co-CEO, representing his company, the Atlas Corporation, in Katagawa’s pleasure palace to celebrate some mediocre Maliwan release party… Well, Rhys didn’t think he could have even survived the first thing a decade ago. How he’s surviving the last one is a miracle.

#rhack #fanfiction #borderlands #handsome jack #rhys strongfork #my writing

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desolateice · 2 years ago

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For the writing asks: 🥺🤡🛒🤲

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels? Grief, I recently wrote Johnny sitting at Mr. Miyagi's grave and I like cried through most of it. I'm tempted to cut it. 😂 Here's a clip.

"I mean I didn’t really try did I? I haven’t tried for anything in so long. Like truly try. Except this. Except the dojo and I’m not even good at it. Daniel’s better at it. All my kids, even Miguel likes him better. And I get it. Like what do I truly have to offer? When we go to the roots of it…Daniel’s roots are you and mine are…Kreese. I’d pick you any day too.”

Also just tender care. From the same WIP and same conversation with the grave, I have this.

"He held this umbrella over me and I saw on the ride back that he’d let the rain fall on him, and I’d never been so aware of how damn pretty he was. Like on a level I knew he was pretty, but damn. And I didn’t know how to handle it."

Love and care, healing, sort of understanding one another or trying. That kind of stuff. 🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh? Here's part of something I cut from Feast for Fools:

“And you’ve checked? He hasn’t run off? Mr. LaRusso didn’t come and scare him off did he?” Emile walked across the room and pushed open a window. “Careful! Light on your feet like a cobra!” “Yes Sensei!” “Cobras don’t have feet sensei!” “Of course not Demetri, thank you, but be careful nonetheless.” “I’m just checking…sometimes you don’t know.” “I have seen a real cobra and I know what feet are. But I don’t know why you’re worrying, you schemed up the terrible community service project.” “It’s a great service project sir!” “You show up unannounced once a week.” “Yes, to try and get you into the right decade. It’s been hard work! But you sent a text that wasn’t all in caps yesterday.” “Did you ever think that I sent them in all caps for a reason?” “I thought the key was just stuck,” Demetri said. “Sensei has typed up a totally normal message before," Miguel said. “He has?” “Yeah, he caught up with Ali, and wrote like ten pages. I told him it was too much, uh since then it’s been all caps.” “It sounds like he’s talking in all caps," Cheyenne said with a frown. “Is he always that loud?”

[if it wasn't clear, Demetri schemed up for a school requirement that he had to do community service for like a national scholars thing to help the elderly, but it's just Johnny, so like once a week he harasses Johnny into learning something.]

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc. This is one of those questions where as soon as someone asks you forget all of them. 😂 You might be able to answer that better for me. I think hurt/comfort, healing, loneliness and found family. Food. Flowers. I tend to want them to be comfortable enough to tease and laugh with each other during a 🍆🍑 time. So usually there's a dumb choice in there somewhere that they can laugh about. But I also want them to be nice to each other generally. So like comfortable loving teasing. 🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip? Oh boy which one should I give you? How about the one I made a deal with Cookie about? 🐔

Daniel didn’t know what to say as he limped towards the other end of the room only for the teacher to spot him and tell him they had assigned seats. And his was right next to Johnny. Alphabetical order. Johnny looked so stunned to see him. Blue eyes looked at him wide-eyed as Daniel limped over. He pulled out the chair for Daniel whose arms were full and Daniel was so shocked and then Johnny seemed so embarrassed that he’d done that that he turned a bright tomato red and looked away. The face he gave in the next class they had together where they were put next together made Daniel laugh. The sort of stunned shock. And then the third. And a fourth. They had six classes out of eight together that semester. And every damn one of them put them right next together. In the fifth one Daniel slapped Johnny’s shoulder and grinned wide, “Long time no see Johnny,” he’d said while Johnny groaned. “Miss me?” was what he said in the sixth class gently nudging Johnny’s shoulder, leaning in close and watching him turn that bright red again. He’d been playing with fire, but a pink Johnny was better than a broken defeated Johnny.

Thank you for the ask 💖, you can find the post with others here.

#writing asks #long posts #long post

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littlespoonevan · 3 years ago

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a touch of someone else (to save me from myself) - missing scene

so guess who’s dumb and forgot to include the scene that inspired the season 1 buddie fic in the actual fic???? *head in hands* this scene is based of a conversation from 10 things i hate about you bc i’m nothing if not loyal to my romcom brand

i Will actually add this scene to the fic on ao3 now but i figured i’d post it here too for those of you who have read a touch of someone else (to save me from myself) and don’t want to reread but would like a lil extra snippet from that ‘verse :’)

this is set during the catfishing saga in 1x10 aka the last 4 or 5 scenes of chapter 2 in the fic. i hope u like it!!!

title: another place - bastille

Eddie finds Buck sulking in the gym.

He’s been quiet since that woman had come by the station this morning accusing him of ghosting her. Everything has felt off since then. Hen kept looking between him and Buck with concerned eyes while Chimney had kept making thoughtless cracks that caused Buck’s mouth go all pinched. He’d stopped pretty quickly though, looking chagrined when Eddie had glared at him from across the truck. Bobby’s been staying out of it since his comments at the dining table but Eddie hasn’t missed the disappointed looks he’s sent Buck’s way.

“Shouldn’t you be running for the hills?” he mutters when Eddie sits down next to him on the bench. “I’m sure the others can think of plenty of other reasons for you to break up with me.”

Eddie sighs, bumping their shoulders lightly. “I’m not exactly one to be led astray by what other people say.”

Buck lets out a humourless laugh, staring at the mirror behind the weights rack across from them. “Maybe you should be.”

Eddie frowns, casting him a sidelong glance. “Why? Did you spend six weeks talking to that woman?”

Buck’s eyes widen in alarm and he shakes his head so hard Eddie’s convinced he’s probably given himself whiplash. “What- Eddie, no. I swear, okay? I would never do that to you. Ever.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “Then why are you acting like you have?”

Buck’s shoulders slump and he shifts his gaze away again. “Well, it’s not like everyone else believes me so I’m a little surprised you do.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “So, what? People are gonna be disappointed in you anyway so there’s no point in even trying to prove them wrong?”

“Something like that,” Buck mumbles, shrugging as he stares down at his hands where they hang between his knees.

“Well, then you screwed up.”

Buck raises his head, turning to Eddie with his face scrunched up in confusion. “What d’you mean?”

“You never disappointed me,” he tells him quietly.

Buck’s mouth parts and he stares at Eddie, eyes filled with something like disbelief as he shakes his head. “You-“

He doesn’t finish his thought, just reaches up to grip the back of Eddie’s neck and presses a firm kiss to his mouth. Eddie kisses him back, hoping he can infuse it with as much reassurance and comfort as possible. He presses one last peck to the corner of Buck’s mouth before he pulls away, touching his chin gently with his thumb.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before, you know that,” Buck murmurs in wonder and Eddie smiles even as the softness of Buck’s voice sends goosebumps erupting over his skin.

“Same,” he whispers with a grin, bumping his forehead against Buck’s and leaning back. “Now will you please come back upstairs with me?”

He stands, holding a hand out to Buck, and watches him consider it for a beat before Buck’s hand inevitably slides into his own.

“Since you said please,” Buck mutters and Eddie huffs out a laugh, pulling him in the direction of the stairs.

Things aren’t fixed but Buck’s eyes look a little lighter when he sits beside Eddie over lunch and that’s all Eddie wanted, really.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fic #911 #my fics #a touch of someone else (to save me from myself) universe

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historicfailure · 2 years ago

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So excited for the kisame fic! 🦈❤️🌻🌻

Me too! I'm really happy with the progress so far, and also with the reader-character this time around ^^

Aaah, why not: here is a little snippet! :D

“Excuse me, sorry. Sorry, my nephew…” Apologetically, you smiled at all the people around who looked at you. Most of them weren’t too happy, even though some of them saw the small human running rampant and figured things out pretty fast. In the end, it didn’t help much, as Kaya was way too determined to reach the middle of the group.

Later on, you would realize that most people waiting there were parents. Parents who talked among each other or just waited under the blistering summer sun, who were waiting until the swimming group would start. But at that moment, you only believed them to laugh and mock you. Mock you for being fat, mock you for being out of breath and out of shape, mock you for sweating and struggling so much while running after your nephew.

All of a sudden, there was some free space right in front of you. Without thinking, you stepped forward, only to come face to face with a wide chest. Even though your brain was already screaming and cursing at you for being so careless, you could only swallow while your eyes wandered from the chest upward. Upward to the thick neck, the hints of some tattoos showing. Up to the jaw, to the mouth, and right up to the eyes, which were already fixated on you.

Your heart was pounding. With the heat burning down on your head, despite the straw hat and the sweat pouring down your body, you absolutely didn’t want to be face-to-face with the lifeguard. But there you were, out of breath and sweating, with the small swimming shoes of your nephew in hand and not even able to properly close your mouth.

With the absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous lifeguard. A lifeguard who looked like he could model for all the men’s underwear pictures. A lifeguard who should be forbidden to be looked at just because he was way too good-looking.

Fuck. Up to close, it’s even worse.

I swear, he has the body of a Greek god.

Or something similarly impressive and… menacing.

Please, don’t stutter, please, don’t stutter, please, for the love of god, don’t fucking stutter and turn yourself into an absolute idiot!

“Hey there.”

Fuck. His voice is like melted caramel.

What to do? Oh god, I’m so done for.

Say something, you dumb fuck!

~ X ~

There you have it ;D It's just a nice, cutesy fic with an MC I heavily relate to, and I think her insecurities are pretty much universal and transcend space and time xD Thank you so much for your lovely ask!

#ask answered #anon ask #hoshigaki kisame #kisame hoshigaki #kisame #snippet

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lostinfantasyworlds · 3 years ago

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🍁 How is your current WIP going, and can we have a sneak peek?

Aww thank you for the ask @neutronstarchild!! 🥰

So the only WIP that I'm currently working on is the epilogue for UTNL! But I don't really want to give away any spoilers for that😏, so instead I'll share a snippet from the birthday fic I wrote for @goshinote back in October, that is still very rough but will eventually be finished and posted!

It's titled The Girl at the Rock Show and the snippet is below the cut😌

Thanks again for the ask!

From the Fanfiction Ask Game

That was when Inuyasha finally turned around, only to be met with the sight of his dream girl. Pretty much every fantasy he’d ever dreamed up throughout his emo teenage years had been manifested in this one woman before him. She had long, shiny, jet-black hair that was tied up in a high ponytail, leaving choppy bangs that framed her contrastingly bright blue eyes. Her ears were lined with piercings, she wore smudgy black eyeliner, and he could see the hint of several tattoos peeking out from under her sleeves and where she had tied her black staff t-shirt at her midriff. She was not only hot as all hell, but also radiated beauty in a very specific type of way, like it came from somewhere deep inside her.

Although at that moment, she was radiating anger just as strongly.

Anger at him.

Oh, right, because he was being a dick.

“Oh, so you finally have the decency to at least look at the person you're being a jerk to?” she snapped.

Sass was just pouring off of her, and although Inuyasha briefly thought that it was an adorable look on her, he was still too pissed at the world to let that actually soften his demeanor any.

“I’m tryin' to do my job, which is to stop stupid kids from sneaking backstage and harassing the band. So if you could leave me the hell alone so that I can actually do that, that would be great.”

“Oh yeah...clearly you’re so busy," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I guess I'll just find someone else to help me...even though you’re right here. ” She stomped off, muttering, "Thanks for nothing."

“Whatever.” Inuyasha turned back.

He felt a little guilty, and almost ran after her to at least explain that he was just having the world's shittiest day, but a moment later he spotted one of the delinquent kids he had been watching out for, forcing him to step in.

Inuyasha had almost forgotten all about her by the time that Paramore took the stage several hours later. That was, until he caught sight of her hovering at the side of the stage, clearly enjoying the show as much as he was, mouthing along to the words of Misery Business with a huge grin on her face. She seemed to be trying to resist the urge to headbang, and he thought about how much of an idiot he was for fucking everything up earlier.

Feeling another shitty pang in his chest for the millionth time that day, he decided to just focus on his job and the music to try and put her out of his mind.

Unfortunately, that was not his last run-in with Kagome. Apparently, she had been hired on as some kind of event or brand coordinator or some shit. Which meant that she had to work closely with almost every aspect that went into putting a show together, including security.

He had clearly offended her so thoroughly that although she was one of the nicest people he had ever witnessed to everyone else, she immediately got a scowl on her face whenever she had to address him directly.

Inuyasha knew he should have just apologized, but secretly grew to enjoy her sassiness so much that he kept being somewhat of an asshole whenever he saw her, just to get that adorable little crinkle between her brows to form.

He knew it was wrong.

He knew he was being immature, acting like a dumb little boy pulling on a girl’s pigtail because they like them. But he never seemed to be able to help himself around her. He was used to people running in fear whenever he acted even a little bit aggressive, so the fact that she gave him as good as she got was...intriguing.

#ask #ask game #wip #girl at the rock show

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firewins-the-fangxrl · 4 years ago

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Building Anew

Now that May The 4th Be With You Excange has revealed I’m crossposting my fic! so here’s some fluffy Grogu and Luke bonding! (also can be kinda dinluke if you want)

(link to the fic on ao3 in the notes cause tumblr sucks and will hide posts with links!)

---

In his efforts to rebuild the Jedi order Luke finds himself learning many new things, some were expected such as old Jedi teachings and methods of finding force sensitives, others things he had not expected, such as the favourite colours of his younger students.

"Wait Master Luke, lightsabers can be purple?" a tiny Twi’lek pipes up.

"Yes there's a multitude of different colours that lightsabers can take depending on the users connec-"

"Can they be rainbow? Rainbow is my favorite colour!" comes another voice.

"My favorite is yellow!" from a Nautolan boy.

The ensuing lesson turned into a session of sharing favourite colours. Which, if Luke is being honest, is surprisingly enjoyable.

Teaching turns out to be one of Luke's favourite parts of resurrecting the order. Each of his students is different and helping them find and control their connection to the force is rewarding. The kids are also interesting to talk to, they're happy to tell him, with the honesty and excitement that comes with childhood, about a variety of things from a cool bug they found to what sensing presences in the force feels like.

Luke learns a lot about each of his students, both mundane and not.

Grogu is probably one of the most interesting to communicate with. Luke learns a number of things about Grogu, firstly that the kid has had a long life.

A really long life.

The first time Luke really gets a sense of Grogu's age is a few weeks after he was first brought to the small temple that acted as the youngling teaching quarters. He and Grogu are meditating together when he's hit with a rush of unfamiliar memories.

Huge sprawling temples filled with the bustle of people going about their day. The sound of children playing and distant lightsaber practice. The sight of adults hurrying past, lightsabers strapped to their hips, some with padawans trailing behind trying to keep up.

It takes him a few seconds to piece together that the memories are of the old Jedi order at its height. He turns to observe the small green child, struck by the fact that the people from that memory are probably all long gone.

"You're a lot older than you look, aren't you?" he murmurs quietly.

The child doesn't move, still deep in meditation, so Luke returns to meditating as well. They settle back into peaceful and companionable silence.

The second thing he learns about Grogu is that he loves his dad. Though Luke only met him briefly he can see that they have a strong bond.

Grogu is also more than willing to share stories of his and his dad's adventures with Luke. Every memory Grogu shares is laden with warmth and adoration.

The adventures are also seemingly extremely dangerous, which is how Luke quickly learns fact number three.

Grogu's father is a stone cold badass. From risky rescues snatching Grogu from the clutch of Imperials to killing a fully grown krayt dragon (something he is honestly in awe of) the man seems to be an unstoppable force powered by protective instincts.

As the stories go on Luke starts to wonder if part of the reason Grogu's father is so unstoppable is because he never stops to think anything through.

Of course Luke isn't exactly one to judge since he's nowhere near the picture of restraint himself.

But still, for force sake the man let himself be swallowed whole by a krayt dragon!

Even Luke isn't quite that dumb… well for the part he's not.

Grogu, it seems, has inherited his father's lack of regard for consequences, as he's quite willing to attempt to eat anything without waiting for Luke to check if it's poisonous or not.

However Grogu's favourite foods by far are frogs and cookies. Luke isn't quite sure what those two things have in common but he does know that cookies must be protected from the green bean (especially if they belong to another student) and that most of the frogs on Draay 2 aren't poisonous.

Except for the tiny yellow ones.

Chasing down Grogu to remove frogs from his mouth to scan for edibility becomes a daily struggle.

This is when Luke first realizes that Grogu is a menace.

The child has more chaotic energy than should feasibly fit into such a small being. Most memorably in the lightsaber incident. The less said about that the better but Luke has certainly learnt his lesson about leaving his lightsaber in a place that small green toddlers can reach.

He's glad to still have his legs.

A fact that he has not been at all prepared to learn came during one of Grogu's father's visits. Which was that Din was apparently a king.

Din lands his ship at the small landing platform adjacent to the temple. Grogu is practically vibrating with excitement by the time the loading door opens and the man walks out, beskar armour glinting in the sunlight.

Unlike his previous visits he is flanked by two other Mandalorians, both wearing blue armour.

Din turns to one of the Mandalorians and says something, too low for Luke to overhear at this distance, and the two Mandalorians turn to go back inside the ship.

As Din walks closer, Grogu wriggles free from Luke's arms and runs to his father. Din drops down and scoops the excited child up into his arms. Luke can hear Grogu making excited squeaks as Din murmurs something to the child.

“Who are your friends?” Luke asks as Din walks closer.

“Royal guard.” is Din’s only response.

“Royal guard?”

“I’m technically the Mand’alor”

“Technically?”

“It’s… complicated. I don’t suppose you’d want a second laser sword?”

“Uh, no thank you” Luke says, noticing one of the blue clad guards glaring at him from the ship. Her helmet is off and he can see short red hair and a slightly terrifying expression that reminds him of Leia when some poor soul angers her.

“Yeah that’s probably for the best,” Din says wryly.

The rest of the visit is fairly normal, except for the bodyguards hovering over Din. Luke gets the distinct impression that the guards are more interested in ensuring that Din doesn’t make a run for it than protecting him from danger.

Something he learns after a while is that Grogu has nightmares.

Grogu is more than happy to share snippets of memories and stories about his life before the fall of the old order. However he avoids the topic of the fall itself. Luke doesn’t push Grogu to share anything he’s not comfortable with.

Luke is pretty sure that's what the nightmares are about since Grogu refuses to tell him anything about them.

He’s okay with that. He doesn’t need to know the specifics to comfort the small scared child that comes to him. Luke just holds Grogu and murmurs reassurances.

Sometimes, if it’s really bad they start a holo call to Din, he always answers no matter the time. They stay up late talking about whatever they can think about until Grogu has fallen asleep, comforted by the presence and voice of his father.

Once when Din is visiting Grogu, Luke wakes to a knock on his door in the middle of the night. He finds a very tired looking Mandalorian carrying Grogu.

“He had a nightmare?” Luke asks.

Din nods clearly suppressing a yawn.

“Come on in. I’ll make some caf.” Luke says, stepping aside.

They stay up talking long after Grogu has fallen asleep, Din tells Luke about the struggles of being a king and Luke shares some stories he’s collected from being a teacher.

He tells Din about the lightsaber incident. Din finds it funny and Luke would probably be more annoyed if the man’s laugh wasn’t so pleasant.

By the time Din leaves, the sun is just starting to crest over the horizon and Luke realizes that he has to go set up for his morning class.

He decides that there are much worse ways to spend the night than with Din and Grogu.

Grogu apparently agrees with him based on the number of crayon drawings he makes of the three of them after that.

Luke is pretty sure Din gets a few of them framed.

#the mandalorian #the mandolarian #the mandalorion fanfic #Luke Skywalker #din djarin #Grogu Djarin #grogu #baby yoda #dinluke #dinluke fic #if you want #Fic #fanfic #firewins writes

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sfb123 · 3 years ago

Text

Sapere Aude - Part 12

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

If you’re new to Sapere Aude, please click the link above to start from the beginning. There’s so much going on right now that you’ll be way too confused to start from this point. Plus, there are some major bombshells that won’t be as fun if you read this and get a bunch of spoilers.

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Disclaimer: I have no current affiliation with any other Via Imperii themed stories. Any claims that I have pre-read anything are false.

Word Count: 2,015

A/N: I started writing this chapter, and all of the sudden realized it was way to long, and nobody was going to be able to hang in for the whole thing, so I ended up splitting it up into two, which means chapter 13 is already on deck and ready to roll, you should be seeing that next week (I don’t want to bombard you with too many chapters at once). I really didn’t know what I was going to do with this part of the story, but I just started writing and my fingers spit out the words.

Shout outs to @jessiembruno for constantly letting me annoy you with brainstorming, snippet bombardment, and beta read love notes. You are the best ride or die a girl could ask for. @txemrn thank you for pre-reading, and being an amazing cheerleader. All of this, this whole story, me writing in general, it’s all your fault, and I will forever be grateful to you for it (if you hate my work, and wonder who the hell I think I am to be here and be doing this, A. I agree and B. blame this lady). @twinkleallnight thank you thank you thank you for both of the amazing mood boards that you created for me. I appreciate you.

Tags: Listed below, hit me up to be added or removed.

“Riley, love, come sit. You need to calm down, I can’t understand what you’re saying.” Liam carefully guided her to the couch and helped her sit. “Wait right there, take deep breaths, I’m going to go get you some water.” He kissed her forehead and wiped away a few of her tears before walking into the kitchen, quickly returning with a glass of water. He placed it in her hands and sat beside her, placing one hand on her back, the other on her knee.

He spent the next several minutes just sitting with her in silence, taking all of the time she needed to compose herself. As her breathing began to return to normal, she placed the glass on the table in front of her and leaned back on the couch. She lifted her hand to wipe her tears, but Liam beat her to it, gently running his thumbs along her cheeks.

“Are you feeling up to telling me what happened?” His hands lingered on her face as he looked deeply into her eyes with a loving, yet concerned expression.

She shook her head, placing her hands over his. “Not really, but I have to. It’s bad, Liam. It’s really bad.” Riley took a deep breath, preparing herself to say the next words. “They’re pushing for an Auvernal alliance.”

Liam’s hands quickly dropped to his lap. “But we shut that idea down years ago. Auvernal doesn’t want to work with us, they want to take us over.”

“I know, I tried to explain that to them, but they think we made the decision because we didn’t want to marry our daughter off to their nightmare child. And they’re not wrong, but so much more went into our decision. We were looking out for the whole country.”

“Of course we were, for them to think anything else is outrageous. She was behind this, wasn’t she? She’s from Auvernal, I wouldn't put it past her.” Liam stood from his seat and began to pace the room.

Riley followed him to the other side of the room, the roles quickly reversing, she was now going to be the one keeping him composed. “No, actually Neville brought it up and the rest of the group agreed. She brought the room back to order, told everyone we would take a breather and revisit it. She wants to set up a meeting with me next week to discuss it one on one. I told her off.”

His feet immediately stopped moving and he turned to face his wife. “You...told her off?” She nodded slowly. “What did you say?” Liam really didn’t care to hear anything about Eleanor, but he couldn’t help but be curious about what Riley said to her. His heart swelled, knowing that she stood up for him, he loved her so much.

“She tried to ask me if I was alright, and I unloaded on her. How would I have been alright after being ambushed by everyone? And I called her out for not defending our decision. The only reason I’ve been trying to work with her and hear her out was because she said she did all of this to protect you. How the fuck does any of this protect you?” She approached him slowly, taking his hands in hers. “How could she question your judgement like that? Obviously we had good reasons for ending that agreement. She said she’s been keeping tabs on you since she left, but obviously she doesn’t know you at all if she thinks you would make a selfish decision under the guise of protecting your country. You’re not your father.”

He pulled Riley to him and held her tightly, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. “I am going to arrange for everyone to meet us in Valtoria as soon as possible. We are going to take some time away, as a family, while we come up with a plan for how to stop this.” He felt her head move against his chest, nodding in agreement. He kissed her on the crown of her head before pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Riley, it means the world that you stood up to her like that for me. Thank you.”

“You would have done the same for me.” She shrugged, she didn’t think she did anything particularly remarkable. Standing up for her husband was just a thing that she did, like breathing or eating.

Liam smiled softly at his wife. “In a heartbeat.” He agreed, before kissing her tenderly.

***

A few days later, as promised, Liam had arranged for Maxwell, Drake, and Olivia to meet them in Valtoria for the weekend. They would use this time to come up with a plan, but it also gave everyone a much needed respite from everything that had been going on. They agreed to take a couple of days to relax and enjoy their time as an extended family before digging into the inevitable unpleasantness.

Everyone was relaxing by the lake, Drake and Eleanor were fishing while the rest of the group sat around a nearby picnic table talking and enjoying some snacks prepared by the kitchen staff.

“Your Majesty.” Mara approached, interrupting the conversation. “I apologize, but I need a moment of your time.”

“Of course.” Riley stood from her seat and addressed her friends. “I’ll be right back guys.” Liam kissed her hand before releasing it, watching her walk away.

Once they got out of earshot of everyone else, Mara informed Riley that Eleanor had sent a request for the one on one meeting she had mentioned at the Via Imperii gathering. And that she would need to leave immediately to meet with her.

“But I’m on a family vacation, Mara. Can’t this wait another day or two?” Riley didn’t want to have this meeting at all, and now it was going to be interrupting time with her family.

“I’m afraid not ma’am, she said it is time sensitive.”

“Fine.” Riley sighed. “Please go get the car ready, I will let everyone know that I have to step away.”

Mara nodded in acknowledgement and took her leave to arrange for their departure as Riley returned to the table. Everyone took note of her somber expression, they had a feeling they knew exactly what this was about.

Liam stood from his seat and approached her, taking her hand. “What is it, love?”

“She wants to have that meeting. Now.” Riley took a deep breath running a nervous hand through her hair. “Mara went to get the car.”

Liam pulled her into a comforting embrace, wrapping his arms securely around her. “It’s alright, this may actually work in our favor. We were all going to talk about a plan tonight anyway. Maybe you will be able to get more information, or anything else that could help us.”

Riley pulled away and met his eyes. “You’re right. I need to suck it up, I just want this to be over.”

“I know love, I know. Me too.” He placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her on the forehead.

Riley said goodbye to everyone else and made her way to the front of the estate, meeting Mara at the car before getting in and heading to the Fierro Estate. The ride was spent in silence as Riley took the time to gather her thoughts and think of the best probing questions to ask, allowing her to get the most information without being too obvious in her phishing.

Upon their arrival, Mara led her to the back of the estate, to a room that was much smaller than the others she had seen. Mara opened the door and signaled for Riley to step inside, she entered and noticed Neville sitting at a small table, a smug expression on his face. She turned to address Mara, who had closed the door and was standing in front of it, clearly intending to prevent Riley from leaving.

“What is this all about Neville? I am supposed to be meeting with Eleanor.”

Neville stood and slowly approached the queen. “Come now Riley, I knew you were uneducated, but I had no idea you were this dumb. You haven’t already realized that she’s not the one that called you here?”

“Enough with this ‘your status doesn’t matter in the Via Imperii’ bullshit. I am your queen, and I expect to be addressed as such.” Riley stood tall, her hands firmly planted on her hips.

“Titles should be reserved for those worthy of them. You have done nothing in your time here to deserve respect, so if I am not required to show it, I certainly won’t.”

“Alright, I’m sick of this. We already know you can’t sword fight for shit, Drake proved that in front of the entire court. Let’s see how you are with hand to hand combat.”

Neville chuckled. “I’m not going to fight you. You’re not even worth that.”

Riley began poking at his shoulder. “Why? Afraid to get your ass kicked by a girl?”

“Of course not. You forget, I have the upper hand here, I don’t have to resort to such childish, archaic methods.” He looked beyond Riley. “Mara, rational conversation is clearly not going to work here. Please restrain our guest.”

***

As the sun began to set over the lake in Valtoria, everyone collected their things and began to head into the house.

“Daddy, when will mommy be home?” Eleanor looked up at her father as they walked hand in hand.

“Soon princess, mommy will be home soon.” Liam checked his watch and looked up at Drake with a concerned expression. “She should have been back by now.” he said quietly so that Eleanor wouldn’t hear.

Drake clapped Liam on the shoulder. “I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll go ask Bas to ping her phone to get a location on her. We can send a guard to keep an eye out if you want.” Liam nodded and Drake broke away from the group.

Liam walked with Elanor into her bedroom, followed by Thomas. As Thomas crossed the threshold, his phone began ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out, checking the ID quickly before silencing it and returning it to his pocket.

Liam looked up from the bookshelf where Eleanor was picking a story. “You can take that if you’d like, Thomas. I will be here with Eleanor, we’ll be alright for a few minutes.”

“Thank you Sir, I will make it brief.” Thomas bowed before exiting the room. “Mother?” He answered the phone once the door was shut behind him.

“Thomas dear, I haven’t been able to get a hold of Mara to coordinate my meeting with Riley. Can you tell me where she is?”

Thomas furrowed his brow. “She’s with you. She took Riley to the estate earlier today for your meeting. She said you called her this morning.”

“But I haven’t spoken to Mara since the meeting the other night. I certainly didn’t call for Riley.” Eleanor’s mind raced thinking of all of the possible reasons that Mara would have misled Riley like that. She flashed back to the night of the meeting, after Riley stormed off, Eleanor saw her approach Mara, who had been speaking with Neville. “Thomas, I need you to get Liam and meet me at the estate. Send some additional guards as well.”

“Mom...what’s going on.”

“I’m not quite sure, but if it’s what I think it is, we have to move fast.”

“Ok.” Thomas ended the call and returned to Eleanor’s bedroom. Eleanor was sitting at her table reading, while Liam stood with Drake and Bastien on the other side of the room. “Sir,” Thomas interrupted their conversation, “we have a situation.”

“Thomas, you are senior enough in the guard that you can handle it on your own, we are trying to locate the queen.” Bastien ordered, but Thomas didn’t move.

“Um...actually, it’s about the queen. Your majesty, you need to come with me, and we need to send some additional guards along with us.”

Permatag:

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Sapere Aude:

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Liam x Riley:

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Liam:

@amandablink @yourmajesty09

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eleanorfenyxwrites · 4 years ago

Text

After Each Midnight Begins A New Day

[Extra #5 - @threephasebird requested that the next extra be some Jin Sibs and Xuanli’s horde of children so here it is! This is (mostly) set post-fic, just as 3zun are on their way to Jinlintai to visit at the end of the last chapter]

[Masterpost]

A quick brief on the children’s names and ages:

Jin Ling (金凌 - rise above) - First son, 20

Jin Fei (金飞 - to fly) - Second son, 17

Jin Yu (金雨 - rain) and Jin Yan (金焰 - fire) - First and Second daughters, 14

Jin Zhuang (金庄 - solemn) - Third son, 12

Jin Lu (金露 - dew) - Third daughter, 7

Jin Ye (金烨 - breathtaking/blaze of fire) - Fourth daughter, 3

As a young boy, Jin Zixuan had often wondered when he would get a sibling. Everyone else had one, it seemed. The Lan Heir had a little brother. The Nie Heir did too. The Jiang Heir got two siblings which seemed like too many, and even those awful Wen boys had each other. He had asked his mother (when he was still young enough to be innocent of the politics of such matters) when he was going to get a didi or meimei of his own, but Madam Jin had just patted his hair and tapped the tip of his nose with her knuckle. It was too gentle of a touch to ever hurt whenever she did that, of course, but he always wrinkled his nose anyway to make her laugh.

Not long after that conversation, he hadn’t gotten a sibling but he had gotten a Mianmian.

She’s technically his shimei, of course, but that hardly matters to him. What does matter is that Luo Qingyang is nothing like the siblings he had imagined for himself when he had asked for one. For starters, she’s older than him by a month, which she makes sure to smugly remind him of at every opportunity. She’s really really polite to adults but annoyingly bossy to him when they get left alone to play. She’s reckless too, and more often than not Jin Zixuan just ends up pouting and dragging his feet as he follows along behind her wherever she wants to run, using his presence at her side as an excuse to sneak into every family-only part of Jinlintai that she can.

By the time they’re 10, though, he loves her fiercely as the sister he can understand by now that he’s never going to get to have. His parents hardly ever see each other, after all, and while he still isn’t totally sure how siblings are made he’s definitely sure that parents have to see each other more often than a few awkward meals a week for it to happen. It’s alright though, he has Mianmian to keep him company and make fun of him whenever he says something dumb (or yell at his cousins when they try to make fun of him for the same).

As they grow, she’s at his side for every important event in his life, as he is for hers. Every birthday, every New Year’s, every important training milestone they get to share. She’s even at his side for the meeting when they’re 14 where it’s announced that he is engaged to Jiang Yanli of the Yunmeng Jiang. Mianmian laughs for so long at that one once they’re alone that his own crushing panic recedes enough for him to punch her in the shoulder and tell her to knock it off, which of course does as little good as ever.

(To this day he still laughs when he remembers the look on her face when she’d heard he was going to get married one day - the shock followed by quickly-repressed snickers throughout the rest of the meeting that had been mercifully, tactfully ignored by the adults in attendance.)

Soon after they turn 16, they’re both there at the main hall the day that a boy who looks to be close to his own age presents himself at Jinlintai to ask for discipleship, claiming blood ties to...to Jin Guangshan as his reason for coming to Lanling all the way from Yunping, rather than going to the Jiang. Jin Zixan is helpless to do anything but watch on in wide-eyed shock as his father kicks the boy down all those stairs, Mianmian’s shocked gasp at his elbow echoing his own as everyone else in the vicinity watches on impassively. They watch together in fascinated horror from their hiding spot behind a large statue to the side of the stairs as the boy somehow manages to pick himself up off the ground at the bottom and bow to Jin Guangshan at the top of the tower with flawless form, the blood on his forehead and the stiffness in his chest as he bows visible even from where they are.

“Oh no,” Mianmian says softly under her breath when he turns to leave. “Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Maybe...Hopefully,” he replies, numbly, still reeling from the idea that he might have...a brother? A half-brother? Certainly if his mother had given birth to the boy he wouldn’t have been living in Yunping, he would have been there in Lanling with the rest of the family. Besides, there’s no way Madam Jin had been pregnant with..twins (judging by their apparently similar ages) and he hadn’t known it, or no one had mentioned it. Either way - this boy thinks he’s Jin Zixuan’s brother, and his father has just kicked him down the stairs for it. In front of everybody. It’s..jarring, to say the least.

It isn’t long after the boy’s dejected departure from Jinlintai that Jin Zixuan is forced to confront his own feelings about the rumors of his father’s...exploits. Not that he hadn’t heard snippets of it before, snide comments muttered behind hands and under breaths, but they always seemed..unimportant. Just idle gossip, and Madam Jin has never been anything but perfectly (if a bit coldly) civil to Jin Guangshan in the rare times they’re in the same room. It had always seemed best to follow her example and ignore it, but now...well now there’s the boy who had come to them with an honest request, a valid one, and had been kicked down the tower for it, just for being physical proof of the rumors that had always circulated. He can’t ignore it any longer.

Jin Zixuan doesn’t know what to do about it, of course, and he eventually has to acknowledge that there’s nothing he can do, but that still doesn’t keep him from thinking about it until even Mianmian grows tired of his fretting over it all.

Despite his agonizing over the subject, when he sees the boy again in Cloud Recesses two years later as a retainer with the young Nie-gongzi, Jin Zixuan doesn’t even recognize him at first. He personally feels it’s justified considering the circumstances of the only time he had ever seen him (besides the fact that Jiang Yanli - perpetually trailed by her obnoxious brothers - is proving far more of a distraction than he had anticipated), but Mianmian still cuffs him on the ear for it once they’re in private.

“What are you going to say to him?” she demands at the end of her lecture about it, arms crossed over her chest and that mulish look on her face that he had learned to fear a long time ago.

“Wh-what would I even say to him?” he retorts quickly, horrified at the thorny social situation this presents. He isn’t even good at the normal ones, what is he supposed to say to his supposed half-brother who is living, breathing proof of an extramarital affair, and who has been resoundly refused entry into Jinlintai in such a horrible, public fashion? A half-brother who is, apparently, now a member of the Nie Sect and has gained enough of Nie-Zongzhu’s favor to be sent to Cloud Recesses during the lecture season to look after Nie Huaisang, who everyone knows Nie Mingjue doesn’t trust with just anybody…

Where to even begin?!

(Jin Zixuan also laughs about that now, how scared he had been of his brother and how unimpressed Mianmian had been with all of his arguments on his own behalf. He has never once in his life been good at arguing with her, after all.)

In the end, he’s lucky enough a couple of weeks into their studies to have an opportunity to pull Meng Yao aside and stammer through the apology he had rehearsed over the last few days with Mianmian’s help. He apologizes as profusely as he can manage for his father’s behavior towards him, as well as extends a tentative request that they get to know each other better as half-brothers even if Jin Guangshan won’t like it. None of it is polite or graceful, in fact he knows that some of it is inadvertently uncouth bordering on offensive, but Meng Yao still accepts all of it with wide-eyed surprise and, when Jin Zixuan finally stumbles to a verbal halt, with a small, affectionate smile on his handsome face.

----

He finds Mo Xuanyu next.

Word had reached him by letter one day from a woman in a small village who had finally worked up the courage to attempt to appeal to Jin Guangshan on their son’s behalf, only for her to find out from her sister, the Madam of the local main family, that Jin Guangshan is several years dead. She had appealed to him instead, of course, as the boy’s brother and Jin Zixuan had taken Jiang Yanli to Mo Manor with him so they could learn the truth for themselves.

Mo Xuanyu is...wary of meeting him, which Jin Zixuan doesn’t fault him for for a second. In fact he had expected it, which is partially why he had brought Jiang Yanli along (besides the fact that he also just enjoys traveling with his wife).

He meets with Second Madam Mo and her son in as neutral of a space as he can find - and alone, to begin with. It’s clear within minutes of observing the boy that he’s a Jin even before Second Madam Mo outlines the events that had given her her son. Jin Zixuan does his best to reassure her that Mo Xuanyu will be welcome as a visitor in Jinlintai should he wish to come, that he will be legitimized if he wants to be, and that he will be allowed to train with the other disciples as well whether he wants to be legitimized or not.

He doesn’t do a very good job of explaining it, unfortunately (nor does he think he managed a very good job of inspiring any sort of confidence in him as a leader, which is unfortunately a frequent occurrence without Jiang Yanli or Mianmian with him to help him talk). As is usually the case after such instances, he finds himself pleading with Jiang Yanli that evening for her help. The pair of them visit the Second Madam Mo and her son in their home on the Mo estate the following day, and Jiang Yanli charms them both so thoroughly that Mo Xuanyu agrees to pack his things and come home with them two days later, with his mother’s full support.

It quickly becomes clear once they arrive in Jinlintai and Mo Xuanyu settles into his cultivation training with some of the younger children that while he is a Jin in name (sort of) and looks, he is infinitely.. weirder than any other Jin that Jin Zixuan has ever met.

By now he and Meng Yao have both put in the work to have formed something of a decent - if still slightly stilted - relationship, and so he’s become well aware even in their relatively limited interactions that his brother works hard to be an unfailingly polite and graceful sort of gentleman. And of course he still thinks of Mianmian like a sister even now that he has made her his Second; and while her behavior is much more brash than his own or Meng Yao’s she still knows the rules of society and chooses to follow them whenever necessary. Besides, she’s a Luo, not a Jin, despite being raised pretty much exclusively in Jinlintai. She gets a free pass.

Mo Xuanyu had been cheerful enough during the trip to Jinlintai with Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli but also on his best behavior, and Jin Zixuan supposes (a bit too late) that being surprised by what has followed is his own fault for assuming that the boy’s nervousness and uncertainty during that trip with two strangers - powerful strangers - was a good representation of his permanent personality.

Long story short - Mo Xuanyu comes to Jinlintai and raises absolute hell.

Jiang Yanli adores him.

Mo Xuanyu clings to her like a burr in response, soaking up her indulgence and the unfailingly kind older-sister energy that she exudes at all times like he’s been desperate for it, for the gentle love of a woman as incredible as Jiang Yanli. And not that Jin Zixuan had ever planned on going back on his promise to legitimize the boy and maintain his offer of a place for him in Jinlintai, but now he truly can’t even begin to consider it after seeing how excited Mo Xuanyu is to find siblings, nieces and nephews, and friends there.

Jin Zixuan legitimizes his youngest brother in an official ceremony conducted by himself and Meng Yao after the first year of Mo Xuanyu’s cultivation training, once his golden core has formed and he is able to begin his true discipleship alongside the younger students at similar levels of cultivation - Jin Ling and his peers, in fact.

And Mo Xuanyu just...stays. His mother had traveled to Lanling to visit him a few times early on when he could take breaks from his training, but after she passes away Mo Xuanyu declares in the midst of his grief that without his mother there’s nothing and no one in Mo Manor to draw him back, and he becomes a permanent fixture of life in the tower - perpetual wild child Mo Xuanyu, with his insistence on wearing black and red clothing (which he swears has nothing to do with Wei Wuxian but he fools absolutely no one), his absolutely wildly dramatic personality, his equally dramatic makeup, his loud laughter.

He proves himself very quickly to be excellent for irritating the Sect elders whenever necessary, and Jin Zixuan privately enjoys watching the stuffy old men try to figure out how to handle his brother’s...unique brand of flamboyance. Of course he’s usually just as flummoxed as they are, the difference is that he’s very fond of it and they are definitely not.

These days, Mo Xuanyu’s position in Jinlintai is more secure than ever. He’s a source of fun and lightheartedness at family gatherings, he’s an attentive presence during the children’s lessons and he plays with them whenever they would like during their leisure time. He’s a wonderful brother and uncle, in his own way, and a cheerful presence wherever he goes.

He also makes for a good litmus test, of sorts. Everyone who deals with the Jin Sect regularly knows of him by now, and Jin Zixuan has gotten into the habit of making sure to keep a careful eye on anyone who dares to step into his home and speak unduly harshly about his youngest sibling. He learned early on to be wary of how that sort of rigid attitude may negatively impact policies they plan to propose or favors they need to ask. He’s also not above deploying Mo Xuanyu himself to handle them in the most obscenely awkward ways he can devise - and those are many and varied. Jin Zixuan himself had stopped getting embarrassed by it a long time ago out of a sense of self-preservation, but others are not so fortunate.

And that had been enough.

Two surprise brothers plus a Mianmian (not to mention his six brothers-in-law plus his and Jiang Yanli’s four children with their fifth on the way at the time) had been more family than he had ever dared to dream of, let alone knew what to do with now that he had it.

But then, not long after Mo Xuanyu’s declaration at 16 that he will be remaining in Jinlintai for the rest of his life if at all possible, Jin Zixuan and Meng Yao take a short trip together to Laoling Qin to discuss a bit of trade business.

Qin Cangye had very politely requested that any discussions they needed to have with him be held in his own home as his wife was too ill to travel, and with Mianmian to run things in his stead in Lanling for a few days (and as many nurses as Jiang Yanli could ever need to help with the children for the short-term) he had been more than willing to travel to accommodate. He had also been perfectly happy to conduct the business they needed to with nothing that threatened to distract him - right up until their second full evening in the Qin home when Meng Yao had approached him in his room after dinner, unusually serious even for him, and told Jin Zixuan that he needed to listen to something important Madam Qin wanted to tell them.

He had listened to her and her handmaid, and he had believed them, and he had been unsurprised to find himself thinking quite uncharitably of his father following his promise to Madam Qin that he would do everything in his power to make it right, as much as he could.

They return to Jinlintai the day after the next, once their business is concluded. He’s relieved when nothing needs his immediate attention as it means he’s free to retreat into his and Jiang Yanli’s quarters so he can tell her everything that’s weighing on his mind.

“No more surprise siblings from now on,” he sighs into the comfort of Jiang Yanli chest when he’s finished outlining what has happened and his plans to prepare a new suite of rooms in the family wing of the tower. For Qin Su. His sister.

Jiang Yanli just laughs her tinkling laugh and kisses him, her hands gentle as she combs his hair back from his face with her fingertips. “You’ve got more siblings now than any of the rest of us,” she teases with a mischievous smile down at him that is a bit too reminiscent of, weirdly, both Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu for comfort. “Two brothers, a sister, and of course we must keep Mianmian in her spot on the list. If you would like to count brothers-in-law as well you’ve also got A-Xian, A-Cheng, Huaisang, Wangji, Xichen, and Mingjue...”

He groans and hides his face properly in the soft silk of her robes even as she laughs again over his head.

“Young boys who ask their mothers for more siblings should be careful what they ask for, shouldn’t they?” Another kiss, this time to his cheek, and he accepts it with a sigh. He certainly can’t deny that his misguided childhood jealousy has certainly been made null. He has a much bigger family than he could have ever imagined.

It’s nice to feel that, finally, Jinlintai is full to bursting with people who genuinely care about him, and who he is allowed to care about in return.

----

Most of that happened long enough ago, though, that these days Jin Zixuan actually has some trouble bringing the memories back to the surface at first demand (though he knows that he’ll never truly forget the ways he had come to know - and subsequently legitimize - all three of his biological siblings).

“A-Xuan?” Jiang Yanli calls now from the doorway of his personal office. Her voice is as soft as always, but it’s tinged with his favorite variety of amusement - the kind caused by the mischief of any member of their (enormous) family. He looks up to find her holding a letter from Gusu judging by the distinctive blue, one eyebrow raised and a smile on her lips. “Were you aware that A-Yu has apparently been begging A-Yao to pay us a visit for over a month?”

“No I wasn’t, but I’m not surprised,” he replies with a sigh and a shake of his head. He loves Mo Xuanyu, of course he does, but he will readily admit that the ever-unbridled chaos of his youngest brother still makes him wonder how they’re related even now over a decade into their relationship. “Can I assume that A-Yao and our brothers-in-law have caved to his demands?” he adds with a gesture towards the letter. Jiang Yanli tucks a gentle laugh into the embroidered cuff of her sleeve.

“They have indeed, A-Yu will be so pleased. They’ve asked to spend a while here though - longer than their last few visits have been at least but A-Yao didn’t specify precisely how long they’d like. I’m going to tell them that anything they want is perfectly fine, unless you have a reason not to accept?”

“No, there’s nothing I can think of. Did they say why they want to stay so long? Is everything alright?”

“They didn’t say, but I think they’re fine. A-Yao only says here that they need a change of scenery for a while and A-Chen suggested they travel. I’ll go ahead and send our acceptance, then?”

Jin Zixuan nods and returns to the report he’s reading. After so many years together, though, he knows enough about his wife not to be surprised when she steps further into the room to put a hand on his shoulder and lean down to press her forehead against his temple for a long, quiet moment. He lets his eyes drift shut as he takes a deep breath in of the familiar scent of the lotus-scented oil she wears in her hair and the hint of incense still clinging to her skin from her morning meditation to help strengthen her core.

“I’ll be playing with the children in the garden when you’re finished if you’d like to come find us,” she murmurs against his cheek and punctuates it with a kiss, offering him precisely what he needs after a long morning of dealing with Sect business - both with the affectionate gesture and with the promise of getting to enjoy spending time with her and their children.

He doesn’t mind being Sect Leader of course, and in fact the job is much easier these days than he had ever expected it to be when he had been a young teenager observing the workings of it under his father’s...less than dedicated hand. But he still privately thinks sometimes that he’s much more cut out for corralling his and Jiang Yanli’s children than he is the Jin Sect.

“Make sure Ling-er practices his sword forms, either against a training dummy or the twins if they want to play with him.”

Jiang Yanli’s quiet chuckle against his cheek is one of his favorite sounds in the world.

“You already know they’d love to team up and see if they can finally win against him. I’ll fetch their practice swords in case they want to use them. You’ll join us, won’t you?”

“Of course,” he reassures, turning his head to look up at her and meet her smile with one of his own. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

----

“All I’m saying Li-jie,” Mo Xuanyu posits loudly from the ground where he’s currently buried under a small mountain of gold robes, flailing limbs, and shrieks of laughter, “Is that if you’ve already got seven you might as well go for an even ten, wouldn’t that be satisfying?!”

“A-Yu,” Qin Su admonishes from a bench nearby, not even bothering to look up from her embroidery. “If you think the children need more playfellows I’m sure we could find you a wonderful husband to adopt your own children with.”

“Absolutely not! Can you imagine me as a father? Disastrous. But if you’re offering to play matchmaker I might actually take you up on that.”

“No matchmaking, you two,” Jin Zixuan sighs as he enters the private family garden and joins Jiang Yanli where she’s sitting at the edge of her lotus pond trailing her fingertips through the water and watching the chaos that is their family unfold around her with a beatific smile on her lips. “Please, I’m begging you, our family is already confusing enough and you’ve both promised me you have no intentions of marrying. Since when do you even want to get married, A-Yu?”

“Listen to me very carefully, A-Xuan - ” he starts with a meaningful waggle of his darkened brows, “I look at what A-Yao has, if you know what I mean, and then I look at what I have, and I just think there’s definitely some room for..improvement in my situation, that’s all.”

Jin Zixuan lifts his chin a bit to give his responding eye-roll the best effect he can while Jiang Yanli and Qin Su both giggle into their sleeves and Jin Ling makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat that carries all the way across the garden.

“Okay first of all, don’t talk about Uncle Jue and Uncle Chen like that, that’s disgusting.”

“Well they’re not my uncles, kid, I can talk about them however I want.”

“Second of all - hey! Quit calling me ‘kid’, we’re the same generation!”

“Enough, you two,” Zixuan sighs to head off the too-familiar argument that Mo Xuanyu is clearly working himself up for with one of his signature borderline-manic grins that makes most Sect Leaders shrink away in fear. “Lu-er, Xiao-Ye let your Uncle Yu get up off the ground, please.” It takes a moment for their two youngest daughters to untangle themselves from where they’ve tackled Mo Xuanyu to the ground but once they’re free they come running to him instead to clamber into his lap, little Jin Ye throwing her arms around his neck and snuggling into his chest immediately as Jin Lu tucks herself into his side under his free arm to start playing with his fingers.

Jin Zixuan sighs again as Mo Xuanyu makes a little show out of rolling to his feet and readjusting his hair and clothes, dabbing at his makeup to make sure nothing has smudged in the tussle. He dusts himself off one more time with a definitive pat before winking and turning his crooked grin on Jin Ling. Their eldest son is waiting for Jin Yu and Jin Yan to get their breath back from their latest bout against him - the twins leaning their weights on their wooden practice swords and clutching their sides - which means that he has no excuse not to listen to Mo Xuanyu’s teasing. (Jin Zhuang, he notices, is sitting on the other side of their sparring circle in a patch of shade cast by a tree and the side of the closest building - well away from the antics of his siblings - to alternate between watching the sparring and practicing his painting on a portable little desk balanced on his knees.)

“Listen to your wise old uncle, Xiao-Ling,” Mo Xuanyu teases, recalling Jin Zixuan’s attention to him and Jin Ling. “You’ll understand when you get to be my age just how nice it might be to have a big strong husband or two to look after you!”

“We’re classmates!!” Jin Ling insists again, beginning to sound desperate as his face goes bright red - though whether it’s out of embarrassment from the teasing about husbands or irritation at being needled about his age is unclear. Jin Zixuan suspects it’s a bit of both.

“A-Yu come help me finish unpacking from my trip before you send our nephew into qi-deviation. I’ll teach you a new huadian to wear as repayment,” Qin Su calls as she stands, graceful as ever. She tucks her embroidery into her sleeve and holds her arm out for Mo Xuanyu to take; he can never resist dramatic gestures and true to form his entire face lights up with mischievous delight, the expression exaggerated by the dark lines of kohl around his eyes, his painted lips, and his rouged cheeks. He bounds over to her to take her proffered arm with a comically genteel air, sweeping her gallantly from the courtyard towards her suite of rooms with such over-the-top fawning that they can hear her sweet laughter bouncing off of the nearby buildings even after they’ve turned the corner out of sight of the garden.

“Dad - ,” Jin Ling pouts, eyebrows drawn down.

“He’ll tire of the joke soon enough, A-Ling,” Jiang Yanli soothes with poorly-concealed mirth before Jin Zixuan can reply similarly. “There are worse things than having an uncle who enjoys a bit of teasing every now and then. Show your father your new sword forms now that you’re warmed up, you’ve been doing so well.”

Jin Zixuan settles his youngest daughters more comfortably in his arms as the twins return to their ready stances against their oldest brother, identical steely glints of focus in their eyes as they resume their sparring. Jin Zhuang brings his painting desk out of the shade to settle in with him and Jiang Yanli now that they’ve created a peaceful center for the family to orient themselves around, and Jin Zixuan feels his chest grow warm with affection as he relaxes into the soothing patterns of quality time with his children.

There are, he thinks, much worse ways to spend an afternoon.

----

Most people, Jin Zixuan thinks, would likely be surprised to find that as wild as their family is, dinners together are frequently calm affairs. Tonight is slightly more raucous than usual as Jin Fei has just returned from the first night hunt he’s led by himself, but it’s still much calmer than any outside observer would have reason to expect from them.

Jin Fei has finished giving his report - with none of the extra boasting that his older brother would pepper into the story were it his to tell - when Jiang Yanli clears her throat delicately for attention, which all of the children dutifully give her. (Well, except for little Jin Ye, who’s busy clambering into Mo Xuanyu’s lap so that she can smile sweetly up at him to demand he feed her the rest of her dinner).

“We received a letter yesterday from your uncles in Cloud Recesses,” she begins with a soft smile, “and you all owe your Uncle Yu a thank you for asking Uncle Yao to come and visit - they have accepted his invitation and will arrive within the week.”

There’s a general excited commotion as all the children start talking at once - beginning with their thanks to Mo Xuanyu as instructed and then shouting to and over each other as they begin arguing over who’s going to get to spend the most time with them.

“WHAT?!” Mo Xuanyu practically screeches, much to Jin Ye’s displeasure if her pout and hands over her ears are anything to go by. “I’ve been bugging him for weeks and he writes to you to accept?! The nerve! The gall!”

“A-Yu,” Jiang Yanli giggles while Jin Zixuan glares at his youngest brother for daring to be offended by anything involving Jiang Yanli.

“Ah sorry Li-jie, sorry. But Su-jie, back me up! He should have replied to me!”

“Li-jie is Madam Jin,” Qin Su replies implacably with a soft smile at Jiang Yanli. “It is proper for him to address a request to visit us to her before you, and A-Yao always follows proper etiquette.”

“Betrayal,” he accuses with a jab of his chopsticks in her direction that’s firm enough to make the ornaments in his hair jingle. “Betrayal by my own jiejie, I don’t believe this. Xiao-Ye, can you believe your aunts?” He directs the last to the toddler in his lap who’s reaching out for one of his dumplings with a bare hand - he immediately pinches it between his chopsticks to hold it in front of her mouth for her so she can munch on little nibbles of it. “Xiao-Ye is the only person in this family who loves and respects me, I’m stealing her and running away with her to escape your cruelty.”

“That’s not true, Uncle Yu,” Jin Yan pipes up around her next bite, which she quickly swallows when Jin Zixuan gives her a look. “Uncle Xian thinks you’re alright sometimes too,” she teases with that wicked grin of hers and Jin Zixuan has to duck his head to hide a smile at the wounded noise Mo Xuanyu offers by way of reply before he settles in to grumble to himself while he feeds Jin Ye like the little princess she already is.

“Father?” Jin Zhuang says softly from where he has come to stand beside him. Jin Zixuan leans over a bit, away from the table, to make it easier for their third son to step close enough to speak as quietly as he likes. “May I show Uncle Chen my paintings?”

“I think he would like that, Zhuang-er, that’s a good idea,” Jin Zixuan replies in an undertone with a nod. “If you ask him to, he may even paint with you. Have you finished your dinner?” Jin Zhuang nods and steps closer to his side as there’s a sudden burst of laughter from Jin Yu and Jin Yan at whatever Jin Ling has just said. “Would you like to go somewhere quiet until it’s calmer in here?” Another nod from Jin Zhuang which Jin Zixuan returns with one of his own. “Alright, that’s fine. I’ll send Aunt Su to come and fetch you when your siblings and Uncle Yu have settled again, okay? Don’t go far.”

Jin Zhuang offers him a quick bump of his head against his before he retreats, slipping out of one of the side doors to go wait in the quiet of the hallway until things are less overwhelming. Jin Zixuan turns back to the rest of his family who are still discussing what they’d like to do now that they know they’ll have fresh entertainment.

“Do you think Uncle Jue will spar with all four of us at once? We could probably take him out, don’t you think A-Ling?”

“You two couldn’t even beat me and Uncle Jue is like, twice my age!”

“Size, too,” Jin Fei drawls.

“Well we can’t all be Nies, and you’re still shorter than me!” Jin Ling huffs with a punch to his second brother’s shoulder.

“Shut up you two, stop arguing for just five minutes, you’re so annoying. Yanyan is right - four of us together against one, we could do it!”

“You want to fight Uncle Jue?!” Jin Lu pipes up in horror. “Why?!!”

“It’s alright A-Lu, don’t be upset. It’s the same reason the four of us train with our swords together, or like when we practice with dad sometimes,” Jin Fei is quick to reassure while Jin Ling is busy sticking his tongue out at the twins. “It’s fun for us and it’s good training, we don’t want to actually hurt Uncle Jue.”

“He’ll kick your bratty little butts anyway, and I’ll bet he does it without even breaking a sweat,” Mo Xuanyu asserts as he wipes Jin Ye’s face clean with a bit of his sleeve. “There you go sweetheart, all done. Go sit with your mom so Uncle Yu can finish eating.” Jin Ye stands up obediently to come around the table, clamber into Jiang Yanli’s extended arms to settle in the cradle of her lap, and promptly close her eyes.

“He would not!” Jin Ling argues instantly, of course.

“Would so. He’s been training with a saber - bigger than a sword, remember - since he was younger than you and I were when we first touched our swords, Lingling. And A-Fei is right, he’s got height, weight, and bulk on his side. He’ll kick your butts.”

“Well I want to try anyway,” Jin Yu reasserts as Jin Yan nods along beside her. “If nothing else we can turn it into a game to see just how quickly he can beat us, if it turns out we really can’t beat him.”

“Oh that’s a good idea. A-Zhuang could keep score, right? Hey. Where’d he go?” Jin Ling looks around sharply, searching for his third brother.

“You were all yelling so he left,” Jin Yan supplies, talking with her mouth full again.

“Oh. Oops.”

“You can apologize when he comes back,” Qin Su offers before looking at Jiang Yanli. “Li-jie, we should arrange to have tea with just A-Yao at least a few times while they’re here. He needs to catch us up on his gossip and we need to tell him ours.”

“I’m sure he’ll accept, it’s been far too long since the three of us have sat down to talk together,” Jiang Yanli replies, and as if by magic the atmosphere settles again as the children respond automatically to the gentle steadiness of their mother and aunt. “I believe Zhuang-er will be able to come back in now,” Jiang Yanli adds with a pointed look at the children that warns them to keep their calm for the rest of the meal for their brother’s sake.

They all nod and return to eating and chatting at a more reasonable volume as Qin Su rises to poke her head out into the corridor. She returns immediately with Jin Zhuang at her side, his hand in hers until he releases it to return to his seat between the twins.

“A-Zhuang,” Jin Fei says once he’s seated across from him. “We’re sorry for being too loud. If we come up with a game to play with Uncle Jue can you keep score for us? You’re the best at watching and keeping track of what happens while we spar. A-Lu can call out whatever you need to say to us while we play.”

Jin Zhuang takes a long moment to consider this in silence, as is his habit, before he nods once firmly and picks up his teacup to take a slow sip while his older brothers and sisters grin first at him then at each other.

“This is going to be so fun,” Jin Lu gushes with a dreamy little sigh into her soup that makes all of her older siblings laugh, even Jin Zhuang with his silent chuckle hidden behind his hand.

Jin Zixuan looks around the table at their family - loving, loud, wild, and theirs, and, not for the first time nor the last, wonders just how in the world he got so lucky.

----

By some small miracle, he and Jiang Yanli manage to gather all the children and get them looking presentable enough in time to greet their uncles when they arrive several days later. He looks for some sign as they approach that something is secretly wrong to have prompted the visit, but they seem alright at first glance. Of course any closer examination that could possibly tell him otherwise is abruptly made completely impossible when they’re promptly swarmed by all of the children save for Jin Ling and Jin Fei, both of whom are too old to run to them and cling around waists and knees to better clamor for gifts and stories with the rest of their siblings.

Jin Zixuan can only shake his head with fond dismay as he watches Jin Ye immediately try to cling to Meng Yao in between his husbands while Jin Zhuang drifts over to stop next to Lan Xichen so that he can stay away from the main hubbub and still slip one hand into his uncle’s with amusing gravity. Jin Lu studies the three of them for a moment before she decides to hug Lan Xichen first as he’s the easiest target, her tiny arms wrapping tightly around his legs as she clings. Nie Mingjue, of course, is immediately swamped by the twins who flank him to start talking about something with broad gestures - he sees Jin Yan make a stabbing motion after a moment and Jin Zixuan realizes they’re likely talking about their newest obsession - knives. A father’s dream.

“Out of my way brats, those are my brothers!” Mo Xuanyu suddenly shouts as he comes streaking out from the nearest building, practically a blur of black and red aimed straight at Meng Yao who has lifted little Jin Ye up in front of himself in his arms to better listen to her intently as she babbles to him.

“A-Yu!” Jin Zixuan chastises tiredly with a sigh even as Nie Mingjue sticks an arm out to catch Mo Xuanyu in midair right at the last moment before he can barrel into any of the children or Meng Yao, who, to his credit, hasn’t even twitched (though Jin Zixuan is absolutely sure that he knew Mo Xuanyu had been running straight for him). He always manages to forget how strong Nie Mingjue is until he sees an example like that; he hadn’t even jolted when Mo Xuanyu’s full weight had collided with his arm, and while Jin Zixuan won’t ever claim to be attracted to any of his brothers-in-law, he’s also not blind to the virtues of men. He can at least admit that he doesn’t fault Mo Xuanyu for his desire to find someone like that for himself.

“Mo Xuanyu,” Nie Mingjue greets, as gruff as ever with his brows drawn low over his eyes and his expression stony. He stares just long enough to make Mo Xuanyu laugh a bit nervously before he drops him back on his feet to reach down and pick up Jin Lu, who has released Lan Xichen in favor of tugging on Nie Mingjue’s belt and holding her arms up to him in silent request. She settles happily on his hip like she belongs there as he resumes his conversation with the twins, her head instantly landing on his shoulder and one hand curling around the collar of his robes as she snuggles in.

As always, watching his brother and brothers-in-law interact with the children does something funny in his chest, and just as he’s thinking of reaching down to take Jiang Yanli’s hand next to his to try to do something with that feeling, she slips it comfortably into the crook of his elbow as she lays her head on his shoulder in silent understanding and agreement.

There will be a formal banquet to welcome them later, of course. But for now the only people around are the members of the family themselves and those who have been living and working in Jinlintai long enough to have seen the rather informal comings and goings of every member of the extended family. There’s nothing official about this greeting, just loved ones reuniting. Happy. Together.

Jin Zixuan glances over to Jin Ling at his left when his son nudges him with an elbow only to find him smirking over at him. His son doesn’t even have to look up at him to do it anymore, and Jin Zixuan still can’t quite pinpoint when that happened.

“Tearing up, dad?” Jin Ling jokes, jerking his chin up in a proud gesture that Jin Zixuan will deny having ever been the example for him to learn from until the day he dies.

“You say that like he doesn’t cry every time any of our uncles come to visit,” Jin Fei sighs from the other side of Jiang Yanli. His posture is relaxed enough - he’s got his arms crossed loosely behind himself and his head tipped back as if studying the clouds and his tone is light and easy. The laid-back attitude is only marred by the fact that there’s clearly a teasing smirk dancing on his lips. “You didn’t cry for me when I got back from my night hunt the other evening. Should I be jealous, dad?”

“Boys,” Jiang Yanli cuts in to chastise with all the affection she can muster - which is, of course, quite a lot. “Your father enjoys having everyone home, that’s all. Be good and go say hello to your uncles, I’m sure they’ve missed you.”

They snicker but step away without any further argument, closing ranks immediately to walk across the courtyard shoulder-to-shoulder so they can put their heads together to laugh about something - Jin Zixuan, most likely.

“They look alright, don’t you think?” Jiang Yanli murmurs.

“I do. I’ll ask A-Yao to be sure when I can see him in private, but I think you were right - there doesn’t seem to be anything urgent.”

“A relaxed family visit, then,” she sighs happily, clearly smiling as she nuzzles her cheek a little more firmly against his shoulder and he drops a kiss to the top of her head before she straightens back up again. “It’ll be so lovely to have them here.”

“I’ve missed them,” he admits for her ears alone and Jiang Yanli squeezes the crook of his elbow in silent understanding.

#The untamed fanfic #Xuanli #Jin Zixuan #Jiang Yanli #Mo Xuanyu #Qin Su #3zun #right at the end #if anyone sees any issues with the names for all these children please don't hesitate to tell me I'm totally fine with changing #anything that should have been different to be more accurate #y'all would not believe the amount of age math I've done for all of this please don't look at any of it too closely #also if anyone wants my MANY headcanons in a bullet-list format let me know and I'll post some #there are Many of them with so many fun oc's lol #also if anything about the children or anything is unclear don't hesitate to ask for clarification!#oh headcanons can be about mianmian too even tho I didn't give her any real screentime in this (sorry!)

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quickspinner · 4 years ago

Text

Plausible Deniability

Written for the LBSC sprint fic challenge. If you’d like to join in follow @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers for more information!

Challenge rules:

Pick a prompt and write for that prompt in up to three 15 minute sprints. No writing outside the sprints until you have completed all three! After the 3 sprints are complete, you have 24 hours to edit (which can include some new writing to smooth transitions, etc). After those 24 hours, post what you’ve got! More information on the challenge here!

Prompt: “I love you.” “Tell me that when you’re sober.”

Soooooo technically this is a fail as far as the challenge is concerned, because I only got the bare bones of it down during the allotted sprints and then I nearly doubled the length in “editing.” But, a failed challenge still means a completed fic, so yay for that.

“She’s trouble in a tank top pretty little time bomb, blowing up, take you down,” Luka sang loudly, causing heads to turn towards them on the street. Marinette hushed him, and he obligingly dropped to a hum.

Marinette gritted her teeth, adjusted Luka’s arm over her shoulders, and reminded herself that she had signed up for this. Had, in fact, assured Luka over and over that she didn’t mind and that he deserved to relax and celebrate, and just drink your shots, already, Luka I’ll make sure you get home safe. All of Luka’s friends were ecstatic for him and everyone wanted to buy him a drink, so Marinette had stood her self-appointed duty, making sure he had enough water and pacing things out so that when he staggered out of the bar at the end of the night, leaning heavily on her, he was still moving mostly under his own power, though he was certainly feeling no pain.

Drunk Luka was chatty, though, and all the thoughts that normally stayed in his head seemed to just pour out of his mouth at random (along with, apparently, every song he’d ever heard or written).

“Snakebite heart, and a bubblegum smile,” he sang, fortunately at a more reasonable volume this time.

“You’re so ridiculous,” Marinette grumbled, but there was fondness in it.

“You’re the best,” he giggled. “I love you.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Tell me that when you’re sober.”

“I did,” Luka snorted, and then laughed his drunk laugh again. “You avoided me for weeks.”

Marinette winced and bit her lip. She hadn’t been thinking about it when she said it. It was a reflexive response at this point, something she said to all her babbling drunk friends when she saw them home at the end of the night (Nino in particular was an ‘I love you, man!’ kind of drunk). She was used to this role, though it was the first time she’d done it for Luka. It hadn’t occurred to her until just then that her usual quip might hit a little differently with him.

“Ma’nette.” Luka leaned on her more heavily and nuzzled at her temple—sort of. Really he more just bonked their heads together. “S’okay. Don’t get all moody. S’funny.”

“It’s not funny,” Marinette sighed.

“Everything’s funny,” Luka grinned, and then started laughing again. Marinette just shook her head, and settled his arm a little more comfortably over her shoulders. “Sides. I’m drunk. I can say whatever I want and we can just laugh it off in the morning. You don't even have to run away this time.” He leaned his head on hers, which tilted the rest of his body towards her, and she staggered slightly under his weight. “You’re so beautiful. Just...all the time. Fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

Marinette blushed hotly. “You’re drunk,” she muttered.

“Yep,” he grinned, and then added, “Drunk but not a liar.” He kissed the top of her head before straightening. Sort of. He took some of his weight off her, at least.

Luka sighed dreamily. “S��been years since then, right? An’ the first time was years before that.” He laughed. “God, I was such a dramatic little shit. Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody. You must have thought I was so stupid.”

“I thought it was beautiful,” Marinette replied quietly.

Luka’s arm tightened around her shoulder, pulling her against his side in a hug. “Aw, you’re so sweet. You’ve always been great that way. You get me, even when I’m dumb.”

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled, bumping him with her hip. “But come on, Luka, you got over all that a long time ago.”

Luka started to laugh so hard he nearly toppled over, and Marinette had to plant her feet and put all her weight into keeping him upright. When she did get him back onto his feet he was wiping away tears.

“I am drunk as hell,” he chuckled, pulling his arm away.

“You really are,” Marinette agreed with a sigh.

He faced her, one hand curling behind her head. Marinette started slightly, out of surprise rather than fear, as he leaned toward her, his eyes unnaturally bright and liquor heavy on his breath. “I’m so drunk can tell you that I never got over you. That I’m still stupid in love with you and nobody ever makes me feel the way you do. You’re one in a million, Marinette. There’ll never be another girl as fascinating and brilliant and creative as you. I knew you were special from the second we met.” He grinned, one thumb gliding over her lower lip a little more roughly than he probably meant to. “And your lips make me think like a pervert. Also your ass is really cute.” He doubled over, giggling, his hands falling away from her as he started walking again. “You ever think about my ass?” he asked, rhetorically it seemed as without waiting for a reply, he tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. “Ugh, fuckin’ city lights. I miss the stars on the boat.” He started singing again, but casually, as if to himself, instead of belting it to the sky. “She’s outta control, so beautiful. I’ve been waiting so long, but she’ll never know…”

Marinette suddenly felt like she was reeling as much as Luka. She felt hot and cold all at once. She’d had no—

Well. That wasn’t true. She had had an idea that he still felt that way, but she didn’t trust her own judgement, not after years and years of reading into things and making mountains out of molehills, and their friendship was so perfect, so precious, she hadn’t wanted to make things weird. But all this time...oh, Luka...

Luka’s lopsided path was taking him a little close to the street, so Marinette jogged a bit to catch up with his long legs, and slipped back under his arm.

“There you are,” he sighed happily, leaning on her again. “I’m so glad you came back.”

“Don’t I always?” she said, a little breathless from the revelation.

“Eventually,” he agreed. “Thank fuck for that. Don’t know what I’d do if I scared you off for good.”

Marinette sighed, and put her arm around his waist. “Come on. Let’s just get you home.”

If she was quiet on the metro, he didn’t seem to notice, filling the silence with idle chatter and random drunken observations that earned them some amused glances from their fellow subway patrons. Marinette didn’t really pay attention, except to push him away when he buried his nose in the crook of her neck and murmured about how good she smelled. Not that she minded, exactly, but she was still processing his drunken declarations and it was hard to think properly with her really attractive friend-and-maybe-more snuggling up on her. Luka had always craved touch (although not usually like that) and it didn’t really rattle her anymore, she just...really needed to think, and it was hard to do that when she was really kind of feeling like—

“Our stop,” Luka muttered, and it embarrassed her that he was the one to notice. The fact that she was more distracted than he was drunk should have been disturbing. Luka sighed as she helped him get up, and leaned on her a little more heavily. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Tired.”

“I bet,” Marinette said, squeezing his waist lightly. “We’re almost there.” His chatter subsided into slightly off-key humming on the way up to his apartment, and she could see that now that the hilarity was fading, Luka was struggling to stay awake. He couldn’t even manage to stick on one song, humming in increasingly broken snippets.

“All right,” she said, when they finally made it into his apartment. “Bed for you.”

“Bed sounds nice,” Luka agreed, as Marinette opened the door to his bedroom.

“I think you can make it from here,” Marinette said, slipping out from under his arm.

“Thanks, Nette,” he said, smiling down at her, and as she looked up at him her heartbeat quickened. She felt the flush in her cheeks, and looked away quickly, unconsciously licking her lips, before her eyes darted back to his again.

Unfortunately for her, even drunk off his ass, he could read her like a book.

“Are you gonna kiss me, Marinette?” Luka asked, leaning over her with one elbow on the doorway. “Cause I’m not opposed but like, I had plans for your birthday and they’ll be ruined if you’re avoiding me, so if you do you gotta cap your running away at three...no...wait, how many weeks?” He blinked, looking confused. “What day is it?”

Marinette swallowed hard, flooded with shame, her eyes stinging. Luka’s gaze snapped back to her, losing some of that vague expression.

“Aw, Mari, don’t cry,” he sighed, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. ‘M so sorry. I’m such an idiot, you were never supposed to cry because of me.” He sighed, letting his forehead fall to rest against hers. “Sober me is gonna kick my own ass tomorrow for making you cry.”

Marinette closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. She’d never wanted to kiss him so badly, but it would be wrong while he was like this, and he’d trusted her to get him home safely. Luka would never take advantage of her this way and she wouldn’t do it to him, either.

Instead she leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Luka relaxed into the hug, folding his arms around her and squeezing so tight it made her gasp. He moved to bury his face in her shoulder. “Love you,” he sighed.

“Luka,” she whispered, and he grunted. “Tell me all that when you’re sober, okay? All the stuff you said to me tonight. Tell me again when you’re sober. Tomorrow, okay?” He grunted again, though she really wasn’t sure if he was hearing her.

She gently pushed him back, and then took his face in her hands, and kissed his forehead tenderly. “Now go to bed. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.”

She knew he was already half asleep, because he didn’t protest her sleeping on the couch. He let her nudge him around, and took the three steps to his bed, and collapsed onto it.

Marinette sighed, and followed him for just a moment to pull his shoes off and cover him with a blanket. He was snoring before she even closed his door.

***

You know just what to say Shit that scares me

He noticed the music first, before he was even fully awake.

I should just walk away but I can’t move my feet The more that I know you the more that I want to

He knew that song.

He knew a lot of songs, really, but more importantly, he knew that voice.

Something inside me’s changed I was so much younger yesterday

The piping voice fell into place right about when he woke up enough to remember the night before. Luka groaned and pulled his covers over his head, wishing he could just curl up and die. He really did want to go back in time and kick drunk Luka’s ass. What had he been thinking, getting that drunk and letting Marinette bring him home alone?

He was thinking that she’d put him in a taxi and send him off, naturally. Because he’d already been a couple drinks in, which was why he’d been hesitating over having more to begin with, and when Marinette had told him to enjoy himself and she’d make sure he got home safe, his logic brain had ceded control to his wishful thinking brain, or something. Because he’d just sold three songs to one of the biggest artists in the country and his name was going to be on the album sleeve and the check had been more money than he’d ever seen in his life and when everyone told him he deserved to celebrate, he kinda wanted to believe them. In his right mind he would have known that Marinette would never just shove him into a cab. Dumbass, he chided himself.

Even beneath the blanket, he could smell food, his stomach equal parts queasy and interested, and Luka knew he couldn’t hide here forever. He had to man up and face the music. Literally, apparently.

Luka sat up slowly, pushing his blanket off, and then opted for honorable procrastination in the form of dragging himself into his bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. If he was going to have to grovel and find a way to pretend he hadn’t meant all those things his dumb drunk ass said last night, he at least wanted the small dignity of smelling decent. He owed Marinette big time after this. It was probably thanks to her pushing water and food on him all night that he didn’t feel worse than he did. He paused on the way to swallow the pills and down the glass of water Marinette had left on his nightstand. It didn’t help his stomach but his head didn’t hurt as much by the time he was out of the shower.

Luka debated putting on real clothes but opted for sweatpants and an ancient t-shirt. It wasn’t like Marinette hadn’t seen him looking worse.

Finally he took a deep breath and made his way out to the living room. He could see Marinette in his little kitchen, the counter piled with food and ingredients. Luka winced; she must have gotten up earlier and gone shopping. There was no way he had this much, or this kind, of food on hand.

Her phone was on the counter, the music—his music—blaring through the bluetooth speakers he’d long ago given her access to.

“I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you,” she sang, bobbing slightly as she transferred food to the plates she had ready. “Don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo…”

Luka couldn’t help a smile. He’d covered and recorded the song for her birthday, teasingly telling her he that couldn’t stand to listen to the original anymore, but that was a lie. Luka had wide-ranging music taste and could appreciate even things he wouldn’t necessarily seek out on his own. Mostly, he just wanted to sing it for her. He’d recognized her singing it when he woke up; either she had it on repeat or her playlist had cycled in the time it took him to get cleaned up.

“By the way, by the way, you do things to my boooodEEEEK!” Marinette gasped and dropped the plate she was holding. Luka watched calmly as the shatter-resistant dish (that he’d bought on purpose because a surprising number of people he loved had a tendency to break things) cracked into several large shards. “Damn it, Luka,” she sighed, looking at the mess. “You startled me.”

“Sorry. I’ll get it,” he said quickly, moving to pick up the pieces. His head reeled when he bent over though, sending him to his knees, and Marinette shoved him back as she crouched down instead.

“No, I got it,” she murmured, not looking him in the eye, and Luka bit the inside of his cheek, feeling a flush of shame. He pulled his hands back and leaned back, intending to sit on his heels but falling back on his ass instead. Folding his legs under him like he meant to do that, he raked both hands through his hair and sighed.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, as Marinette cleaned up the mess. “About last night. So, so sorry, Marinette, I was petty, and mean, and I said a bunch of really unnecessary things, and I swear I don’t—”

“Stop,” Marinette ordered, dumping the broken plate in the trash, along with the remains of the omelet that had been on it. Luka winced and shut his mouth and his eyes, rubbing his forehead with one hand.

Small, warm hands pushed his away and slender but strong fingers began massaging his temples and forehead. He leaned into her touch with a little moan.

“How do you feel?” Marinette asked gently.

Luka gave a lopsided smile, eyes still closed. “Like I don’t deserve this. It sure feels good though.”

Marinette sighed, her breath wafting over his face. “Can you eat?”

“A Marinette hangover special?” Luka’s grin widened. “Definitely. If there’s any left.”

“There is,” Marinette told him, amusement in her voice. “I always make plenty. Sorry about the dish though.” Her fingers slid down to gently cup his face. Luka opened his eyes, to find he was looking into hers. Her beautiful, stunning eyes that still took his breath even after all these years. They looked red-rimmed and tired, though, and a stab of guilt went through him.

Needle and the thread, gotta get you outta my head, get you outta my head

Luka cringed at his own voice coming from the speakers. “Did you have to keep that one?” he asked plaintively. “I made you a better one.”

“I know,” Marinette giggled. “But I like this one. It’s the first one you made for me.”

“The quality is shit,” Luka grunted. He’d recorded it on his phone on the boat, on his acoustic back when they were teenagers. The boat hull gave it a weird hollow sound, and in a couple of places he’d gotten too loud and blown out the mic so that it sounded all staticy, and the p’s popped awfully, and he didn’t even know how she could stand to listen to that song because the whole reason he’d made her the cover was because she was playing the song nonstop as she mourned her breakup with—and he’d wanted to do something, anything to help—

Marinette’s lips pressed to the wrinkle in his forehead, snapping him out of his thoughts. “It has sentimental value. Go sit at the table, I’ll bring out the food.”

Luka got up off the floor, swaying only slightly, and dragged himself to his small table. Marinette brought him a loaded plate, bacon piled beside the spinach omelet, sliced banana arranged on the other side. Luka avoided the bacon for the moment, going after the banana first, and then nibbling cautiously at the omelet. Marinette slid a plate of avocado toast and sliced french bread drizzled with honey over to him, and he ate a slice of each obediently.

“Why is this so good when I feel so crappy?” he muttered.

"Science,” Marinette informed him, and he cracked a smile.

“You didn’t have to stay,” Luka said after a moment. “Not that I don’t appreciate this, but…well. You didn’t have to.”

Marinette glanced up at him and then seemed to consider her words for a moment. “I guess I was hoping...maybe you had some things to tell me this morning.”

His fork froze halfway to his mouth as he stared at her, remembering the way she’d held him last night. What’s she’d said in his ear as he nearly dozed off on her.

Tell me that again when you’re sober .

She held his gaze, taking a deliberately dainty bite of honey-drizzled bread, her tongue darting out to lick a stray drop off her lip. Luka swallowed, wondering wildly if she would taste like honey if he kissed her.

“M-maybe I do,” he mumbled, and then took a too large bite of omelet. He stared at his plate as he chewed, not even tasting it as his body went cold and then hot and a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him that he didn’t think had anything to do with the hangover. He was suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

He glanced up to see Marinette still watching him.

“Well,” she said, blushing and looking down at her own plate with a self-deprecating smile that he found much too adorable. “I promise if you do, I won’t run away this time.”

There was a beat of silence as he stared at her and she stared at her plate, and then he mumbled, “Good to know,” and took another bite, trying not to smile too broadly while inside he was screaming like a teenage girl.

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peachyteabuck · 4 years ago

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a king is first a man [snippet]

summary: thor’s fighting a double-fronted war, desperately attempting to quell the flames of a revolution, and is grappling with his father’s long-since murder on the battlefield all those years ago. somehow, none of that compares to the trouble of his new queen.

this is a commission for @empyreanwritings who commissioned a snippet from the full work.

pairing: thor odinson x reader

words: 2507

trigger warnings: medieval au i did very little research for, brat taming that includes spanking as a punishment, allusions to breeding kink, angst related to social position if you squint.

notes: major credit to @spacelabrathor for allowing me to steal this concept and write a full fic for it. she’s legit the best and i can’t thank her enough for putting up with me - both in relation to this fic and the rest of our friendship. she’s legit THE shit and deserves everything.

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

She walks with the grace one would expect of someone like her: educated, precise, bored. Her back is straight as an arrow, feet silent, smile barely touching her cheeks as she hangs her head in feigned sorrow. In the dim lighting of the “secret” (known only to the highest of servants, the king himself, and, apparently, her) hallway she looks kind, mournful. If Thor did not know better, he might have offered his regards, asked if there was anything he could do to bring one of those toothy grins back to her bright face.

Unfortunately, Thor does know better. He knows as much about her as he does his greatest enemy – what they teach all the generals to learn before undertaking something serious as war: motivations, desired outcome, what leverage she holds over the throne and anyone dumb enough to occupy it. He knows what she thinks, why she thinks it, what she thinks will happen.

Despite this plethora of knowledge and years of military training and etiquette classes and warning from those he trusts the most, Thor loses himself as he backs her into the wall, never touching her but commanding the space between them with precision – just as he yields a sword during battle.

That’s how his heart feels, too, pounding in his chest as if his ribs were the bars separating him from his captor. He can feel heat course through his body, his hands flexing as flint strikes steel in each of his veins. He wonders, for a brief moment, if he is dying – if she had poisoned him just to fall into the very seat she claimed she loathed. No – he quickly realizes. That would be too easy. If she were to kill him, were to stop his heart or slit his throat or plunge his father’s sword into his chest, then were would be no game for her to play; there would be no place for her lightning to strike whenever she wished. She – Gods forbid – would be saddled with responsibility, something her childish bones could not handle. Like a house with no foundation she’d crumble, curling in on herself as servants and soldiers and saddle hands all pried for her attention.

“What?” she questions, arms folded across her chest. Her brow is furrowed, jaw set as she breaks Thor’s thoughts and wretches him back to the moment – back to her. It’s always her, isn’t it? Always has to be her, ever since she arrived on that carriage and turned her nose up at him and refused to kiss the family ring.

“You know what,” he snarls back at her, teeth bared as he leans in close enough to smell whatever the chambermaids had placed in her morning bath. Yesterday it was lavender – light and airy as she explored the castle as if she was a ghost peering through a window. Today was something stronger, something that bites at Thor’s nostrils just as she bites at his patience. “You know you are not supposed to attend meetings of a royal nature unless specifically given permission.”

Thor watches her carefully, watches as she doesn’t even flinch as she lets out a small laugh, rolling her eyes before returning the king’s gaze. It’s odd to see someone like her – someone so young – look back at him with such fire, determination. It had taken him years to reach that level of confidence, to develop the will to stand up to someone as powerful as himself. He can’t tell if he’s furious or impressed or both. Either way, he refuses to let her get the best of him.

Thor grabs her by the back of her neck, quickly flipping her around so her cheek is pressed against the smooth, cold stone, her hands pressed against the wall near her sides.

“If you want to act like a child-“ Thor hisses as each hand pins one of her wrists. “I am going to treat you like one.

The second she’s picked up and tossed over his one of his broad shoulder, she does her best to contort an exit for herself, thrashing and kicking like a cat that had been plunged into a freezing river. Thor, though, maneuvers her as if she was some inert object he was placing on a newly dusted shelf, keeping her wrists pinned behind her back and avoiding the kick of her heel as he carries her into the large chambers they now – whether she liked it or not - share. When he steps through the threshold, he ignores her cries for a moment longer, taking in the scent of her that had filled the room as he notices mused linen bedsheets and pillows strewn across the room, despite knowing it had been made by ever-attending servants when she had gotten up from her midday nap.

Had she been touching herself before she interrupted Thor’s meeting with the council? Had she plunged three fingers into her dripping center, chasing the world’s sweetest pleasure? Had she thought of her husband while she gushed over her hand? Had she whispered his name so the servants would not hear her shameful lust, or had she screamed it – hoping one of them would call upon him to make her stop? Did she think that they thought he had that much power over her?

Thor shakes his head, returning to his original mission. The king smoothly navigates the large room while making sure his bride doesn’t knock anything over (she had ordered many a plate of treats while she was alone, barely picking at any of them, even as the carts the servants placed them on filled the room). Like the minotaur in the maze, he carries her with ease. In the back of her mind she can’t help but admire that – as if he can predict her every physical movement with precision, even before she knows exactly what her flailing limbs plan to do.

Without warning, she’s dropped onto the center of the large bed. She sees her chance of escape, but her hope is quickly squashed when Thor grunts as he moves to pin her down, grabbing both of her wrists in one of his large, war-bitten hands. Something inside her can’t help but flutter as he manhandles her into the position Thor believes befits her behavior, one where he sits at the edge of the bed while her stomach is laid upon his muscular thighs. Her thin dress is torn without so much as a shrieking RRIIIIIPPP – as if even the fabric is surprised how efficiently it is ripped off the newly-appointed queen’s body. It sends a shiver down her spine, the knowledge of the king’s strength and size rusty in its age but easily shined with each exercise of Thor’s power.

“All you brats are the fucking same,” he growls through grit teeth as his large hands lay sharp slaps over her thin underclothes, preparing her for the punishment to come. “You push and you push and you get what’s coming for you and then you act as if you’re innocent.”

The queen gulps, still attempting to free her hands while her legs kick. Thor just laughs at her, pushing her wrists harder into the small of her back as he continues to smack her plump ass.

“Keep trying, my little morning dove,” the nickname given to her by the driver of the carriage she had road in on all those days before falls from his lips like blood after a swift kick to the face, pooling onto her back and in her center. “Eventually you’ll run out of fight and then this will go much easier.”

She huffs, dramatically yelling as the last of her fabric protection is stolen from her, exposing her to hot air in the room. “What on Earth are you talking about!? I didn’t do anything!”

Thor just snorts, leaving a few more smacks against her bare flesh. “This little innocent act you’ve been playing up all these years? It isn’t going to work on me.”

She scoffs, her next inhale sharp as his favorite battle sword with one final slap being laid against her. “I…I-“

The king just laughs deep in his chest, his hand moving from the round of her ass to between her now-trembling legs. Each ounce of golden defiance that once replaced the blood in her veins seemed to disperse as he touches her there, gathering the slick that dripped onto his pants. Suddenly, the clothing feels much tighter than before (though, whether it had occurred in that instant alone was unlikely) as he watched the pads of his wettened fingers reflect the torches along the wall. His face heats as the corners of his lips turn up into a smile – though he suspects the fires are not to blame.

“You took your retribution well,” he tells her, letting go of her now limp wrists to rub at the heated skin. She moans, pressing her face into the thickest gathering of blankets her limited movement grants her, last taste of insolence drying on her tongue. “I think I should show you what those who behave are rewarded with.”

She’s unable to process his words before she’s flipped again – Thor now on his feet while she remains on the bed, though now flat on her back. She’s completely bare but finds no shame in her exposure, watching her husband with fevered attention as he rips his shirt from his body.

Thor’s barely able to pull his linen pants under his ass before she’s begging for him, mumbling something that falls between a prayer and a spell to beckon the king closer to her – words low and desperate as they’re spoken into the heated air between them. He’s so hard it hurts, like his shoulder after he gets a newly weighted sword or his calves when he rides a new horse. It’s this simmering thing inside of him, water in a cauldron close to boiling but not quite there; his whole being existing on the precipice of something he can’t quite identify.

It’s not as if he has the time for introspection, though, because the second the air hits the skin of his hardened cock and she’s grabbing at him and pulling him to her, inside of her and for the first time since he was considered too young to be king his mind is-

Blank.

His mind is blank with a white-hot fire that blinds him as his guttural moans form a symphony with hers. Neither of them speak, neither of them can, brains preoccupied with their bodies and their bodies preoccupied with each other. It feels like battle almost, some carnal instinct commanding his every move while whatever consciousness keeps him tethered to the present surrenders itself to some orgiastic impulse. For the first time in a long time the monarch feels himself lose control as his hands roam her heated skin, as his war-torn palms feels the supple flesh of her chest and pinch at her pert nipples.

She inhales sharply at the small pinch of pain, the way she clenches around him encouraging him to continue.

“Oh!” she moans, loud and unabashed.

Thor had not taken a woman in a long while, too busy with his duties as king. He had moved bedrooms, in fact, since the last time he’d bed anyone, and had no idea whether the architecture granted him privacy from the staff. However, just as you practically waltzed into his highly contentious meeting, Thor allows himself to grunt and roar and curse without pity for the ears of those within the rest of the large castle.

One of his hands plants itself in the sheets, using it for balance as the other moves to rub at the most sensitive part of her. He revels in her screams of pleasure, in her pleas for him not to stop don’t stop don’t stop it’s yours take it please take it please!

A sense of pride swells in Thor’s chest, blossoming with the soil of watching her switch from rebellion to subservience with him having to do so little in such a short period of time.

Tightening in his abdomen distracts him from his preening, hips chasing the same peak she seems to be close to.

Thor tries to piece himself together enough to ask a question he wishes he didn’t have to. “Where do y-“

“Inside of me!” she immediately gasps, voice strained and desperate. “Please!”

Just as he wishes she would, he does exactly as he is told with nearly no hesitation – unloading inside of her just as she screams with her own release.

If the palace occupants could not hear them before, they surely heard the married couple then as they both shouted in vulgar unison. Deep and animalistic and wonderful, they both pant as they fall into a breathless kiss.

Her high recedes like the lake that runs through the kingdom at the beginning of dry season – slow and deliberate and leaving her with a dry mouth. She stares at the ceiling, noticing for the first time that a map of the kingdom has been painted there. It seems, just as she views the room, that she sees the rest of the world with a sharper eye; she wonders that if she were to be escorted outside by one of those ghastly ladies in waiting outside, she would see the night sky with more precision than ever before. If she could sift through the darkness, would she be able to draw the stars? If she were to look back down to Earth and attempt to traverse the forest, could she watch the fauna as they walked through the pitch black?

“Drink this,” Thor’s gruff voice cuts through the thick fog in her brain, handing her one of those obnoxious chalices. The metal and jewels adorning it are cooled by the chilled water inside of it, and she wonders how it stayed so cold despite the heat in the room. “You need to keep a clear head.”

She gives a little snort as she gulps the water down, small droplets spilling from her lips and down between her breasts. It takes all of the king’s minute willpower not to drink that down, too. “Why would I need that?”

Thor…does not have an adequate answer to that, at least one he can articulate. There’s a sense of dread that settles into his gut, winds its way through his gut and makes him feel queasy. He wonders if she hates Asgard just as her mother presumably hates his new wife’s home kingdom, if Thor had done something so devastatingly wrong to this poor young woman and the both of them would have to live in the choice forever.

“You know, if you’re going to spiral each time I say something like that, I’m going to need to behead you,” she jokes as she places the chalice back in Thor’s hands. Her arms shake just a little as she does so.

It takes a long while for the man to respond.

#a king is first a man #king thor #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #cee tag #lukis does commissions #lukis writes stuff

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