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#excuse the resolution lmao

cassberry · 3 months

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<MissaSinf (ES)> She is the prettiest, most protective and strongest girl of all.

#qsmp #liveblogging #qsmp tallulah #missasinfonia #excuse the resolution lmao #missa's stream was struggling on my end #berry.posts

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squuote · 1 year

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nearly missed rosemary month.fixing that on the last day

mix of day 2 + 23 prompts, and also the anniversary kiss kinda lol

#rosemarymonth2022 #rosemary #homestuck #hs #rosekan #kanaya maryam #rose lalonde #crows art #lmao hs posting jumpscare #um.i just wanted to draw them and rosemary month was a good excuse #begging tumblr not to absolutely destroy the resolution eep

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chernabogs · 7 months

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if you're still taking requests, can you maybe do "You're lucky you're cute" with either Malleus or Sebek? (and reader) You can choose one of them and have fun!!

Thank youuuu this is just a glorified excuse for me to info dump about etiquette with Fae interactions LMAO (also I need to work more on my Sebek down the line... my boy...I will write him soon)

CAVEATS

Inc: Malleus, GN!Reader (referred to as Prefect once) Warnings: None! Except the ominous undercurrent of danger through words at the amusement of a Fae WC: 2.5k! Excerpt: Truthfully, many of the things he’s saying are things humans should know—but the crevice between the sharing of information from Fae to humans means many of the modern humans don’t. He’s granting you a one up by doing this—at his own entertainment.

People find it hard to speak of things with him sometimes. Exulansis, Malleus learns it’s called. A resignation to stop talking about an experience because the other cannot relate. When the other House wardens speak of motor vehicles, of vacations, of the latest tech and similar topics he finds his mind turning in circles as he puzzles over what that experience is like. What is a vacation to the Tropical Isles like? What benefits does a magic-powered vehicle have over a gas-consuming one?

Perhaps he has a face when they speak of this. A furrow in his brow, a darkening of his gaze. He doesn’t mean it in hostility—it’s all coming from a purely clinical stance. He’s tried so many times just to get his older flip phone model to work that he’s entirely given up comprehending what this ‘widget’ is, or the benefits of ‘bio-metrics’, which sounds like some poison you’d feed someone in his opinion.

Maybe this is why he finds somewhat of a solace in your company at times like this. Even though you seem to know all about most of the things the others speak of, you’re still clueless about the magic aspects, and that gives him something of a purpose—explaining those to you.

“What if you mix it?”

You’re lying back on the stones of a cottage that once stood proudly in the forest surrounding Night Raven College. It’s since been reduced to nothing more but a few bits of the foundation and a lot of rotting wood. He raises an incredulous eyebrow at your words.

“No, I would not recommend combining any fire magic with any form of wind magic. Most think it would just blow the fire out, but you are more apt to end up with an inferno than a resolution. Fire magic is measurably different from your flint and stick type, after all.” His gaze travels over your form as your expression shifts to one of intense thought. It reminds him of the one he wears when speaking with Shroud about his broke phone (again)—and it feels wonderful to be on the receiving end.

“Grim and Ace did that once, you know. Combined Grims fire with wind magic Ace summoned. I probably should have thought of that before asking you.” You sit up with a groan and rub your face. “What about water magic, then?”

“It depends on if the mage has used a sub-spell when summoning their fire spell. If a sub-spell was used with the intent of permitting the flames to burn more intensely, such as an oil or metal, then the water would simply feed the flames more. Hence why it’s quite important to pay attention to what your opponent’s actions are.” You remind him a little of Sebek and Silver when they were younger and just trying to master their own magic. You have the same curious disposition—and frustration about things just not being concise.

You give him another look as you pick up the book you had tossed aside earlier. When he had invited you for a walk with him, he hadn’t anticipated it becoming a late-night study session. It was a refreshing experience, though—an opportunity for a ‘school-life’ moment that Lilia always pushed him to have. Midnight cramming.

“When fighting someone, aren’t there a whole ton of other things to worry about beyond whether a sub-spell was used or not?” You sigh as you begin flipping through the pages. He notes that your writing gets rather chaotic at some points, and figures these are the things you’re picking his brain over.

“Not every incidence of magic is for combat purposes. Why, in Briar Valley, magic is used for the most basic of tasks—such as cooking. That ties in with the fire information I just disclosed, no?” His lips quirk into the faintest of smiles. “It would be in poor taste if the cooks at the Palace were to mix magic with the wrong sub-spell by mistake.”

“Have you ever barbecued something before? It’s practically combat.”

Barbecue. Malleus remembers the first time he tried grilled meat, when he was younger, and Lilia had enough with the raw diet the prince had been kept on for the majority. The food had tasted like charred wood and from that point on Malleus had deliberately minimized his requests for it. “I am… not experienced at the barbecue, no.”

“The barbecue.” You repeat, glancing at him with a smirk. “So, Briar Valley doesn’t have any fun cookouts? No throwing something on the BBQ and having a night of it?”

“This is getting off topic.” He stands from where he was sitting on the foundation next to you and waves a hand. “Perhaps you should return to your dorm and study there. We can reconvene another time.”

Your expression shifts to surprise and you’re quick to protest his words. “No, no, I’d rather we stay. Besides, I’m not going to do anything if I go back, and you’re probably not going to do anything if you go back, so…”

“So?” He repeats with a raised eyebrow as a bright grin appears on your face.

“Is it not better to do something together then nothing on our own?”

Ah, you’re trying to work a strange sort of logic to your argument here. His arms cross over his chest as he looks from where you sit and out to the dark woods that surround you. It’s a quiet night, with a few fireflies flashing amongst the trees that loom like dark figures just beyond. Their towering presence ignites a sense of occhiolism that has him moving just a few steps closer to you.

“Do you desire my company so much? All I’ve done is give you answers to your homework woes.” He gives a pointed look to the pen and book you have in hand as a flash of embarrassment crosses your face. You shift uncomfortably and close the book.

“Well, I do want to say thank you for all that you’ve done so far…” You mumble. Your comment strikes a thought in his mind as he observes you a bit closer. “I guess I don’t really need to keep bugging you with questions.”

“Did I ever imply it was a bother?” He moves through the grass to sit back down next to you. The lack of sound that his motions make would be unsettling to most, but your blindness to the unusual and the strange makes you seem entirely unaffected. “Do not read things that aren’t there.”

“I… sorry?” He can see you struggling a little to navigate the right thing to say, and this brings a sense of amusement to him. Your confusion about this discussion may be mean on his part, but it’s only temporary.

Malleus may not know much in terms of technology, or the best place for a vacation, or whether a gas-car is a better deal—but he does know magic. And he is feeling rather playful this evening as he watches your panicked gaze dart around his features.

“Do your studies incorporate learning of magical beings, by chance?” He begins to lay the foundations for his plan as your shoulders relax at his question. You hum and flip around the book.

“I mean, vaguely? There’s a bit about dwarves, and elves, and a very small paragraph on the Fae… but not much else.”

He clicks his tongue as his pale fingers reach out to touch the edges of the pages. “Oh, that won’t do. You can be forgiven for not understanding magical spells should you ever visit Briar Valley, but to not understand the Fae? You might find yourself in conflict.”

Then he makes his expression light up. “I would feel terrible should that happen, knowing I could prevent it, so I ask now—would you like to know more about my species?”

It’s like dangling a forbidden fruit in front of a starving soul. He rarely shares anything about himself or his thoughts, even though you’ve both been attending these walks together for a few weeks now. You close the book again and nod, and that’s all he needs you to do. “Sure, thank you!”

Your politeness is quaint—but he knows such an approach may not last once he begins talking. He smiles a little more, and it’s an expression to hide how eager he feels about this.

“To begin, you may find that while all of us have a degree of pride, some of us are more prideful than others. You are very generous with your thankfulness and apologetic responses, and although I appreciate the words and the acts as I know they come from a place of good intent… this is not the case for all my kind.” He hums thoughtfully. “In fact, some may think your thanks imply that they are subservient or—even worse—that you are now in debt to them.”

He pauses and lets his words linger as they run through your mind. Your eyes widen slightly. “Subservient? I don’t want anyone thinking that whenever I just say thanks.”

“I know that, and so does Lilia, but that’s because we’ve interacted with humans a great deal. Some Fae have very little interaction, and with that, hold very old beliefs. One should simply be… cautious. Express gratitude for what they have done, but do not say thanks.”

Malleus feels his amusement grow as your expression becomes solemn at his words. He takes it as a sign to continue as he taps his nails against his thigh.

Truthfully, many of the things he’s saying are things humans should know—but the crevice between the sharing of information from Fae to humans means many of the modern humans don’t.

He’s granting you a one up by doing this—at his own entertainment.

“We also value honesty immensely. Have I ever lied to you?” He asks, and when you shake your head with confidence, he chuckles. “No, and so I would hope that sentiment would be reciprocated. Lying or deliberately keeping information from me is something I don’t appreciate, but I will not curse you over it like some may.”

“This makes me feel like I’m in politics instead of a conversation,” you mumble, resting your chin in your palm. He hums and nods.

“In a sense, it is like politics. Be cautious of what you say, and if you don’t know what to say, say nothing at all. The same applies to accepting gifts—both obvious and not. Accept what you trust, but if you have a bad feeling, decline and simply do so in a way that is not apologetic.”

“How do I know if something is being given as a gift?” There’s concern in your tone as you ask this. It makes Malleus smile wider—a sharp flash of white fangs in the dark—and he shrugs.

“You don’t always. For example, you were quick to accept my offer of this information, even though this information itself is a gift. But we have a rapport; I trust you, as you trust me.” He stops tapping his thigh. “It’s the same for how willing you and the others have been at granting me and Lilia your names. There’s a great deal of magic tied into a person's name.”

Malleus notes that flash of unease in your gaze again as you grip your book a bit tighter. Perhaps this is unsettling to you. Perhaps the reminder of just how different the two of you are is throwing you into a perilous loop; you became comfortable enough with him that you began to see him as equal, and the reminder that you aren’t is jarring.

He doesn’t want to scare you too terribly, though. This isn’t what these lures of information were meant to do. It was meant to amuse him with your expressions and awe at these simple rules of etiquette, but also to guarantee your safety if—well, when—he asks you delicately to visit Briar Valley soon. Plus, you are the one consistent person outside of his close family who has bothered to hold extended conversations with him.

“What can you do with my name?” You ask slowly. It’s a valid question. What can he do with your name?

“Oh, one can do many things with a name. Take it as their own, bend it out of shape, lock it in a box or toss it into the sea. A Fae can wipe it from your mind and put it in their pocket should they be so inclined. They can make you do whatever it is they please.” Not that many would anymore. Perhaps in the days when humans and Fae were at war the notoriety of name-theft was known throughout the Valley, but in these recent days of languid peace, name-theft is more apt to find the Fae imprisoned than anything else.

“And will you?” You ask, catching him off guard for a moment. When he looks at you again, you look nervous as you stare back. “Take my name, or anyone else's?”

Malleus blinks slowly as he processes your words. Ah… maybe this has gone too far now. He softens his expression and watches as this mirrors on your own. Then he warms his smile to grant some reassurance as he laughs softly. “Oh, no, no. You have my name as well—we are equal, in a sense. I don’t have power over you or anyone else in this school beyond what any other mage may hold.”

You exhale slowly and relax your shoulders. His words have put you at ease and this pleases him before your expression takes a sharp turn into a scowl.

“Thanks for instilling all this paranoia in me. You know, when I finally visit you in Briar Valley, I’m going to be triple thinking everything that comes out of my mouth now.”

“When?” He jumps on that word really quick as his expression shifts to one of smug delight. He didn’t even need to push the topic—you just dove headfirst into it yourself. He hears you clear your throat loudly as you yank open your book again.

“Don’t. I’m going to write this all down in the margins before I forget,” you grumble as he chuckles softly again.

“Ah, you’re lucky you’re cute, Prefect.” He hums as he returns his attention to the treeline beyond. The fireflies continue to lazily flash in the night, and the silence of the forest brings a sense of peace. There’s solace in your company—and he looks forward to experiencing it more in the future.

So long as you don’t agitate another Fae. He can’t help you with everything.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #malleus draconia

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collectiveclams · 1 month

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Ninjago decoded time:3 I’ve been badgered to start this before heading to s11.

Dude I’m really happy that they’re going back and and elaborating on past scenes.

- Zane can process outside data and recreate memories even if he wasn’t there -> obviously just an excuse for the writers but also I need him to use this in a murder mystery detective plot

- “I’m noting the resolution downgrades in the files” bro they’re dissing on the previous animation studio lmao

- once again the show refusing to acknowledge the incredible body horror that is at the end of s3, Cole picking up half of Zane’s face off of the ground and cradling it in his hands. Like he looks human at that time, that’d be fucking horrifying.

- Love that the trend of performing percussive maintenance on Zane. I swear every so often the ninja go “Hey zane u alright bud, your voice sounds a little off.” *violently smacks him in the head with a screwdriver*

- NYA JUST LEFT ZANE THERE AND HE CANT LOG OUT?! FREE MY BOY!

#ninjago decoded #ninjago #clam watches ninjago #decoded ep 1

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genericpuff · 11 months

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On today's episode of "Rachel exaggerates things to make herself sound cooler-"

Soooo this is a lie.

No seriously, this has to be a lie. I don't make these kinds of accusations willy-nilly. This has to be a lie.

First of all, if her file sizes are truly 11GB for each episode, that would mean her file resolutions would have to be stupid high, and I just ain't buying that when so much of her art comes out looking like fried chicken.

But again, look at the backgrounds. Crystal clear. Which supports my theory that Rachel has her assistants draw the characters flat and exports them as PNG's so that she (or another one of her assistants) can slap the backgrounds in afterwards which is why when they pinch and zoom, the backgrounds look fine (as they're added in afterwards) and the characters look like they've been drawn with chalk. The shading itself isn't deep fried though, which is, again, because Rachel adds in the shading in post after her assistants have sent her all the flats.

Anyways, moving on from that, if her file sizes are actually 11GB per episode, that would mean her resolution would have to be STUPID high and that would mean there's no excuse for panels to look like this. This is not a Webtoons compression problem, Webtoons does compress images for you if you don't do it yourself but they don't result in specifically deep fried textures like this, that's ALL happening on Rachel's side. If it were a Webtoons' problem, the entire comic would look like that, not just select panels.

This is also what the panels tend to look like in book form. The book art is clearly very compressed and blurred from being too low of a resolution for print, which means either the editor is not being provided the root files, or the root files weren't ever that crisp to begin with. Either one is plausible and either one isn't good.

But of course, I'm not going to make these claims without my own proof. So here's the file sizes for Episode 12 of Rekindled, the longest episode in the series so far by panel count and page length, clocking in at 42 panels and an average of 25 layers per page (and that's including the text layers which adds a good chunk on its own, the actual art layers are like, half of that).

Also, here's what a pinch and zoom panel in Rekindled comes out looking like:

You can still pick up on some fuzziness, but the lineart doesn't look straight up chunky like it does in LO.

Meanwhile, one of my longest episodes of TIME GATE: [AFTERBIRTH] has a file size that honestly shocked me with how small it was.

Guess how many panels that episode had?

Go on, guess. Take a second. Compare it to the file size of Episode 12 of Rekindled, take your best educated guess. Time Gate: [AFTERBIRTH] is also a full color webtoon with full shading and rendering that I used to upload once a week. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Ninety-seven.

Ninety. Seven.

Not only is that more panels than what LO dishes out on a weekly basis, but its overall file size doesn't even come out to be 10% of what Rachel is claiming LO's file sizes to be.

This is what Time Gate: [AFTERBIRTH] looks like, by the way:

(don't mind the blurriness that's working against my point, that's Tumblr, not me LMAO)

But, let's face it, I didn't want to just use my own examples as a comparison, because that seems unfair. I'm not an Originals creator, I just put myself under similar pressures as one because I'm an idiot who tries too hard.

So I asked one of my Originals pals. I will not disclose their name, but they are someone who works for Webtoons Originals and has similar panel requirements and deadlines. They also work with a similar flatting + shade workflow as LO, they have cel-shaded colors and bold flat coloring.

When I asked them how big their file sizes were, they said that at 2500px width - similar to what I draw at, 2400px width - and 200-300k pixel length (again, they're drawing an entire episode on one canvas) their episode file sizes come out to roughly one gigabyte, very rarely much bigger than that.

Rachel is full of shit. This is some Tommy Tallarico level shit, exaggerating stupid things that don't matter to try and make herself seem impressive. It isn't impressive. It makes her look like an unorganized dunderhead at best, and at worst, makes her look like a flat out liar who needs to prop herself up on the dumbest shit to make herself look good. File gigabyte size isn't impressive or indicative of anything, you can achieve high quality art without your file size amounting to 11 GB, and let's face it, Lore Olympus is not high quality art. You're telling me art like this:

amounts to 11 GB?

Now the only way I can see this happening is if maybe, maybe she had like, a bajillion layers full of garbage-

Oh. Oh no. Lore Olympus. Is a sprite comic.*

(*edit for clarification: I've had people confused over what I mean by sprite comic because LO clearly isn't made with 16/8 bit sprites. Sprite comic was a term universally used back in the day for comics that reused the same body parts, heads, expressions, etc. much like how sprites are designed, often keeping an entire file full of different layers made up of these assets to make for easier development. This technique was utilized in comics like CTRL + ALT + DEL. LO is definitely not literally a sprite comic but the way its layers are designed feel very much like something that's being cobbled together like 'sprite' comics were. I'm old.)

Even with these pics for proof, with 600+ layers on one canvas, if there's barely anything on those layers, then it still wouldn't make up that 11GB file size because the amount of layers doesn't necessarily add to file size on its own, at least not by that much, unless they're actually filled with stuff. And again, Rachel's art in LO doesn't scream "highly detailed with many layers". It only had many layers because for some reason she insists on working that way even to its own detriment.

From the looks of it, Rachel's importing all of her assistants' PNG's as separate layers and adding all the shading and the extra details on their own separate layers and basically dividing everything up into tiny bite sized pieces. That's the only clear explanation I can come up with. But if so, that means she's being INCREDIBLY inefficient with her workflow that it's amounting to SIX HUNDRED+ LAYERS AT 11 GB PER EPISODE. THAT IS ABSURD. THIS COMIC IS WAY TOO LOW QUALITY TO JUSTIFY THESE FILE SIZES AND LAYER COUNTS. RACHEL DOESN'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK SHE'S DOING-

She's also very clearly using the cloud as a way to backup her work and work with her assistants. God knows how much she's spending on cloud space because of her own incompetency.

Honestly, at this point, as I sit here playing the Photoshop equivalent of Cookie Clicker, clicking the 'new layer' button over and over and over again with my mouse to truly understand what it would feel like to operate at 600+ layers per episode of a webtoon, I'm more inclined to believe she's just lying. Capping. Pulling shit out of her ass. Straight up making shit up. It wouldn't be the first time she's done that. But also because the alternative is a lot more grim - the #1 best selling webtoon on the platform is being operated like the world's worst group project and still coming out on the other side looking like deep fried garbage despite its stupid high file size.

#hoo boy i wasn't expecting to write an essay today #but i got tagged in this discussion in ULO #my 10+ years of being a deadbeat washed up webcomic creator with zero street cred finally pay off #lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus

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billsfangearring · 1 year

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11 Good Omens Fic Favorites

a.k.a. I was going to choose my personal top ten but was too indecisive

One of my fandom resolutions for 2023 is to get back into reccing, so here’s a very casual GO rec list to kick things off! Fics are ordered longest to shortest.

As with any rec list, please read the warnings and tags on ao3 and make whatever decisions are best for you. I hope you enjoy!

the bucket list by darcylindbergh (@forineffablereasons)

There was a certain look that Aziraphale wore occasionally—a pinched sort of moue that looked like he’d just taken a very large mouthful of cinnamon—which meant he thought Crowley was being ridiculous. He had put it on. “Hang on,” he had said. “You want us to do human things?” * If you're going to go native, you might as well go all the way.

absolutely stunning, I wanted to take breaks while reading to really let it all sink in, I felt ALL THE EMOTIONS (44k, incomplete, E)

Your Mirror by equestrianstatue (@justlikeeddie)

I'll be your mirror; reflect what you are, in case you don't know. Crowley drummed his fingers briefly against his mug, and then sat back a little in his chair. He gave Aziraphale a long, appraising glance, and then seemed to come to some decision. “Listen, angel,” he said, “let me pitch you something.” Lulled by the familiar patter of Crowley’s voice as he was, Aziraphale still recognised this to be vaguely dangerous territory. He swallowed. “Go on,” he said.

one of the best-executed non-linear narrative fics I've ever read—just masterful, really peels back the layers in their relationship (28k, E)

This Soul Outstreaming by Rend_Herring

“Why did you come here?” Aziraphale interrupts. “Why do you keep doing this?” All the saving, he means, all the chasing after Aziraphale he does. It can’t only be that he’s not keen to endure a replacement. That can’t be it, not anymore. He’s going to get himself in trouble, and then it’ll be Aziraphale’s fault. Crowley’s mouth shuts with a click. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, reaches for the handle of the fork and taps his fingertips against it before setting his hands in his lap. When he speaks, it’s very soft. “Don’t you know?” he asks. Aziraphale, unnaccustomed to his heart refusing to translate why it throbs with such haste, shakes his head.

sad, tender, funny, and romantic with beautiful prose, really just everything you want, so many quotable lines (22k, E)

Lay me down in Eden by caricari (@heycaricari)

Two supernatural entities go for a walk and Crowley gets more than he bargained for.

SO ROMANTIC OH MY GOD in the dialogue, interior monologue, and actions, excellent characterization, so pure (then explicit lol) (17k, E)

You've Got Kudos by curtaincall (@fremulon)

Aziraphale and Crowley both write fanfiction. As it happens, they both write Good Omens fanfiction. Of course, neither of them would ever admit this to the other. (A love story told primarily in AO3 comments)

this is the most meta thing ever lmao, really impressive skins for the ao3 look—pay attention to all the little details like usernames, etc. (4k, M)

build me a city, call it jerusalem by gyzym (@gyzym)

Man begets man begets The Tales of Men, and there's nothing godly in that; Those Above and Them Below haven't any need for the stories humans have been hungry for since the snake and the Angel with the flaming sword.

pre-show fic written in 2012, leans heavily into religious themes and Biblical references, melancholic, spare but beautiful writing style (3k, T)

The Gift by entanglednow (@entanglednow)

In which there is a little wooden elephant, and a long overdue confession.

simple yet checks all the boxes, very very soft and sweet, the DEVOTION, more biblical settings, truly just lovely (3k, T)

Anthony J. Crowley, Retired Demon and Airbnb Superhost by TheOldAquarian (@darkpurpledawn)

What are you supposed to do when you've been fired from your sweet job in Hell for thwarting the schemes of Satan, you've got a swanky flat in Mayfair, and you're looking for an excuse to spend all your time in someone else's bookshop? Obviously, you turn to the dubious world of short-term vacation rentals. The resulting Airbnb property has been variously described as "an instagram trap," "a vampire den but make it botanical," and "the weirdest bed and breakfast in the shared history of beds and breakfasting."

a highly entertaining series of Airbnb reviews of Crowley’s flat—every single one kills me, as do our ineffable duo’s cameos (3k, G)

Kissing, Accidentally. by skybound2 (@skybound2)

Crowley doesn’t mean to kiss him, really. It just sort of…happens. An…automatic response, if you will. An unintended automatic response. Unexpected, even. It’s not planned, that’s what he’s trying to say. ~~~ Or the one where Crowley gives in and kisses Aziraphale while he has him pinned against a wall.

winner of best use of footnotes, hilarious, Crowley is WHIPPED and an absolute disaster of a demon, just delightful (2k, G)

Too Generous by rfsmiley (@redfacesmiley)

“You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.” Or: what happened after the [ we all got hit by a ] bus scene (aka "you could stay at my place, if you like")….

the TENSION, the PINING, ahh my heart was in my throat, excellent dialogue, and multiple P&P references (1.5k, T)

Interwoven Footsteps by skybound2 (@skybound2)

It takes them a while to get there. Six thousand years, give or take. But they get there.

criminally underappreciated (probably because it's super short), gorgeous, lush, sweet, their whole story in under 1k words (700, T)

#good omens fic recs #good omens #ineffable spouses #bfe fic recs #fic recs #long post

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thoughtspresso · 8 months

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Predictions for Oshi No Ko Ending

1. Anemone will be the one to find Katayose Yura's dead body.

In Japanese flower symbolism, Anemones or Windflowers represent death, bad luck, and forsaken love. And it just so happens we have a character named exactly that, who happens to be the only other character apart from Katayose Yura who loves being in the mountains.

Anemone will likely be climbing the same mountains on Yura's wishlist, and just like before, The Crow might lead Anemone to the dead body.

It's like Akasaka-sensei decided Spider Lilies are already too obvious a deathflag so he chose a different flower.

I'm taking the bet that Akane might be the person who figures out the connection between Yura and Kamiki, or Miki-san might simply show up on the news as a statement about his "dear friend Yura" who "disappeared".

Akane might also give the head's up to Aqua that she thinks Kamiki murdered Yura, and that would be a reason for the two to spend more time with each other again. (Might shove a wedge between Kana and Aqua again, if Aqua isn't already doing that himself lmao.) Either way, it'd be a convenient way for Akane to attempt to both "save" Aqua and also help him accomplish his goals without killing himself.

2. The person who texted Frill Shiranui is Miki-san.

Sylvanes made a fairly solid guess that Frill Shiranui works for Kamiki Productions. Whether or not he was necessarily correct on this, I'm making the bet that Yura's "best drinking buddy" Miki-san is connected to Frill professionally, and goaded Frill into pushing Ruby into the spotlight.

Some speculators say this might have been Aqua's ploy, but I I think this was incorrect. Aqua agreed with Kaburagi that money comes first and Frill was a more reasonable choice commercially. He even said that Gotanda should "grow up" and not choose Ruby just because of his artistic integrity.

Apart from the friendly, casual tone of the text message that really sounds like the "Miki-san" persona and the image of decanted whiskey as his profile picture, I think Kamiki is actually praying for Ruby's success as a star.

In fact, I think people misunderstood why he killed Katayose Yura. He didn't kill Yura because his serial killer MO was simply because he liked killing up and coming megastars who shone brightly. He killed Yura because:

(a) He hates Stars who lie, who sell a persona to their fans that is vastly different from who they are as people, which is why he hated Himekawa Airi and Hoshino Ai.

(b) He killed Yura because he knew that the project being offered to her was the lead role in The 15-Year Lie. And simply, he wanted Ruby to play Ai's role.

In a twisted way, I think Kamiki believes he is protecting his children, and the public in general, from being lied to any further by celebrities like Yura who deceive the public with their feigned innocence.

Honestly? I think the reason he killed their mothers was to protect them from growing up with mothers who lie and abuse their kids.

3. Kana might play Hoshino Ai in The 15-Year Lie.

Okay, okay, okay, okay. I know. I know. Unhinged fan theory. I get it.

Even AquaKana stans think this is majorly unlikely to happen. I agree in that, I think it's insane. But I keep coming back to what Aqua meant when he said that, "Kana is so easy to manipulate", and "It's more convenient for me to build a good relationship with Arima right now."

People tend to say, he's making silly convoluted excuses again, he just wants to spend more time with her. But I think a man who is resolute in his goal to off himself by proxy of martyrdom doesn't care to date the person he was protecting from a love scandal anyway.

There are a few key reasons why I think Aqua's "using" of Kana will result in her playing Ai's role.

First of all, I think Aqua's plan is to play Kamiki, to portray him in the worst possible way, and expose him as the murderer through the film. Through this, Aqua will bait his father into murdering him too, and thus Aqua's death can be used as legal grounds for charging Hikaru Kamiki with Homicide.

As established above, I think Aqua doesn't agree that Ruby is the best choice for Ai's role. There are a lot of parallelisms baked in between Kana and Ai. Apart from the shot-by-shot remake of Sign is B, Kana is also the best person to get stabbed and deliver the lines, "Some day I hoped the lies would become true. / I did my best. I worked hard. I lied with all my heart. / To me, lies are love. In my own way, I thought I was showing my love."

Besides, you saw anyone else say these same things?

Uhuh, you guessed it:

So is Kana gonna get stabbed? Hopefully in a movie, yeah.

I think it could happen as a result of Kaburagi's dissatisfaction with Ruby's performance.

Kaburagi's "finalized" casting isn't final-final yet, really. We can see that he swapped Aqua to play Kamiki instead of Himekawa who will now play Ryosuke the university student/stalker here:

Which makes sense! Aqua looks like his father, is closer to his age during the time of the events, and Taiki's age and height also better matches Ryosuke.

And even though the paper says finalized on Ruby's casting, Kaburagi's still not completely sold:

I think the swap will come as a result of Ruby being severely overworked and unable to keep up with the demands of her role, and the Dome performance that she might want to prioritize. She may even outright collapse from exhaustion, as foreshadowed by Kana:

Apart from Akasaka-sensei absolutely trolling us to death by Ai x Kamiki on-screen romance being portrayed by twins, then just outright pulling the plug on that for fun, I think it'd just make sense for Kaburagi to say it's better if we pair Aqua with Kana for this role.

Ruby doesn't even have to collapse or anything. She's so loved up with the idea of Gorou-sensei right now, Aqua could literally just tell her "this is what's best for the plan, you trust me, don't you?" And she would absolutely just go with it.

I said before that I think up until Mem-cho pointed it out, Aqua was wholly unaware that Kana had a crush on him and joined B-Komachi just because of him. I think now that he has the awareness, he'll ask Kana to do it, first to help Ruby, but also because he can only trust Kana to play this role because she is "Special" to him.

A repeat of:

It really is the only way that this scene therefore makes sense to me:

Bonus: if the Shima D masterpiece film doesn't draw Kamiki's attention to her, Kana playing the role of Ai definitely will. And if she delivers the role with so much honesty, it might change the trajectory of the story altogether.

4. Aqua's plan will backfire.

I explained a little above and in a previous post that Aqua misunderstands Kamiki's motives.

While we all like to shit on Aqua for being the World's Nicest Master Manipulator, we have to give him credit for the fact that when it's used for saving other people, he's been really effective at spinning a public narrative in his favor. Like in the cases of Akane's suicide attempt and Kana's Love Scandal.

If the goal is to get Kamiki to stab him in plain view of the public, villify his father, and make it easy to convict him for homicide once and for all, I think he will fail.

Kamiki will not kill him or go after him. In fact, I think Kamiki will shed his Miki-san persona and reveal the truth: he was Himekawa Airi's rape victim, and Hoshino Ai was a manipulative person who seduced him with the prospect of true love, then abandoned him when she got what she wanted, which was a family.

In the absence of any evidence that he had anything to do with their deaths, Kamiki might even use this momentum of propaganda to make the public believe that he's happy to finally be reunited with his children that these terrible mothers took away from him.

Heck, Taiki might hate Uehara so much that he'd be relieved to learn about Kamiki? And if he really is connected to Frill, and if Kindaichi still cares about him, there might be real people who would back him up.

Then, it won't be until Akane works with Aqua and everyone to bring the murder of Katayose Yura to light that Kamiki would actually be brought to justice.

#Bonus if you made it this far: Ruby will meet Marina Tendouji for sure #Now that Marina knows Ruby is Ai's child #Marina might encounter Ruby for drinks and talk to her about how her daughter was a huge fan of Ai-san #Then Ruby might ask what happened to your daughter #There will be two ways this will resolve #Either Marina says it absolutely broke me when she died I couldnt even bear to be with her or something #Or Marina will say something outright evil #Marina might say something like do you think my daughter forgave me #And if she does I really wish Ruby will say No I don't think she would #But at the same time I dont think she would even think of you negatively #She loved you and believed in you simply because you were her mom #In general I think this moment will be the emotional resolution of Ruby's arc #and it will be necessary for her to break away from Gorou #Oshi No Ko #Oshi No Ko Spoilers #Oshi No Ko Fan Theories #Hoshino Aqua #Hoshino Ruby #Hoshino Ai #Arima Kana #Himekawa Taiki #Hikaru Kamiki #Frill Shiranui #Yura Katayose #Kurokawa Akane

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shifuto · 9 months

Text

216/365

@zexalmonth 2023

3rd: The High Priestess upright | Intuition, sacred knowledge, the subconscious mind Music can do miraculous things to the subconscious mind. You can make something based on the soundtrack or themes/motifs you like. As a challenge, put on one of the Zexal soundtracks and try to make something before the song ends! Show it to us!

the Zexal OST is one of the things I never remove from my phone because it's just that good! I feel like we got so lucky that Conisch was the one to make it because it's the best in the whole YGO franchise in my opinion (a very biased opinion considering how much I love games and how much gaming vibes Zexal music has). It sounds like something straight out of a JRPG, epic and more..

was going through some of my favorite themes to find inspiration for today's prompt and I have to talk about these 2 songs:

"Duel Of Certain Victory" (from Zexal Sound Duel 5)

youtube

guess this one plays on the last few episodes, probably in the duels with Nasch and Zexal? Anyway. I really like the urgency and heroic motifs in this, a fight between Chaos and Light. My favorite part is that shift at 2:03 when the time signature changes (4/4 -> 3/4), it's so freaking good

"Forced Duel" (from Zexal Sound Duel 4)

youtube

not sure where this one plays unfortunately (if you do, LET ME KNOW AAAAAAAA) so I'm going to assume it's on the late episodes too. This track is crazy good wtf!!! I really love the rock base (sounds like something from Megaman or Castlevania) and there's a lot going on with the time signature on this: there's the build up in 4/4 and a jump to a 7/4 bridge, going back to 4/4 and the first guitar riff/verse, then back to that bridge, then the build up again but make to more epic, then the resolution in 3/4 and outro in 7/4...... phew!! This is a fantastic tune, and one of my favorite songs in general

hmm wasn't sure how to convey this image but I liked how it turned out. Ryoga and Astral are dueling against each other (because it's in grayscale it's not possible to see but this is Ryoga-Nasch dueling with Chaos so no need for D-Gazer.. an excuse to have them both heterochromic)

Ryoga is pissed because he's losing lmao

#zexal month #ygo #zexal #yugioh zexal #yugioh #unawareshipping #astral zexal #ryoga kamishiro #shif #shif writes #music

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reallyromealone · 2 years

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Hello there! This is my first time requesting a Tumblr fic so please excuse me if I do this wrong lol

May I request Omegaverse Beta Jonathan Byers x Omega Male Reader with a domestic life and they have twins(girl and boy; maybe add a little sibling squabble 👀); And a little angst where Jonathan feels insecure about being with the reader because he isn't an alpha and reader cheers him up with his words and it's just super fluffy at the end.

Well I'm glad I'm your first!

Sorry it took so long, got a lot of asks lmao.

And you're doing great!

Today was stressful for Johnathan.

The twins were fighting all morning over (sons name) stealing (daughter's name)s barbie because his toy needed a girlfriend and it was just a mess for the Alpha and beta and they basically told (sons name) they would find his toy a girlfriend but to not mess with his sister's toys unless he wants her to mess with his.

And to top it off he's been hearing... comments about his mating with (name).

Mainly about how he had no business as a beta to be with an Omega like (name).

Omegas like (name) apparently need strong alphas like Billy or hell even Eddie!

He had nothing against Eddie he was great but sometimes he envied the fact he was an alpha.

He couldn't scent (name) like an alpha.

He wasn't dominating or intimidating like one either.

He was just Johnathan.

Walking in he saw the twins fighting again as (name) took the toy from them "what did we talk about sharing, if one of you is playing with a toy, the other has to wait their turn"

Glancing at Johnathan he smiled and discreetly gestured to follow him to the kitchen and the beta complied, the Omega going to a cabinet where the pups can't reach and behind the four was a bag of m&ms for baking "gimmie your hand" he whispered as the two ate their treat "(name)..." Johnathan asked hesitantly as the Omega who looked at him like he hung the moon "a-are you happy with a beta as a mate?"

"Who said otherwise?" (Name) asked hugging the other who in turn looked away "just some people around town... They think you deserve an alpha"

"I don't want an alpha, I want my sweet compassionate beta mate who wakes me with kisses and rubbed my feet when I was carrying the pups" (name) said resolutely before continuing "besides I think last night was proof enough on how happy I was to have you as a mate..." (Name) said with a shit eating grin.

"Are you sure...?" Johnathan had those puppy eyes that made (name) weak "wouldn't have let you mated me then knock me up if I wasn't 100% sure"

"I love you baby"

"I love you too my handsome beta"

#omegaverse #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #male reader #johnathan byers x reader #Johnathan Byers x male reader

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ofmermaidstories · 4 months

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Hi Mermieeee ✨✨✨ happy new year!!! how r u feeling? get better soon! i have a question lol dont mean to push or anything but i send my thoughts & feelings bout Something but I don't know If tumblr ate that ask or is somewhere in your inbox (again not trying to be pushy) just genuinely curious if tumblr just sucks with asks lol 😭 let me know if I can send you my open heart about Izuku and reader 1 more time haha 💖

omg no you’re not pushy at all, psi. 🥺 i think tumblr can suck sometimes but i still have your ask!!! it’s sitting in my drafts actually, along with a slew of others i’ve half-answered about SJLT. 🫣 i’m sorry—i don’t mean to make you or anyone else feel like i’m ignoring you, or am otherwise annoyed. 🥺 i’m not!!!! i love hearing all your thoughts and feelings, i don’t think there’s anyone—writer, artist, or a serial tumblrina—among us that wouldn’t. 😭😭😭 i tend to squirrel them away, actually. 🥹 so i can reread them, since once they’re posted on the blog they get buried by my own spam. 🥺

that’s not an excuse though. 🫣 one of my (quieter) resolutions this year was to get over that and be more prompt with answering things lmao. 🥹 we’ll get there…. eventually. 🥹 but anyways!!! yes, i have your original ask—would you like me to finishing answering that one, as is?? everytime i see it i’m like, oh… 🥺🥹🌷💕

#ofmermaidstories-asks #psi i hope you’re having a good weekend 🥹 despite my lazy ass rudeness 😭😭😭

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kitschke · 3 months

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This might be a weird question, but I ended up browsing your blog, and you have a lot of interesting looking music posts. Do you have a list of underrated songs you think people should check out? Or something like that? I’ve been trying to find more indie bands recently (since I heard Spotify might try to demonetize songs with under a thousand listens and I thought maybe bringing the listen count up would help, foolish as that might be—and I haven’t even confirmed it’s true lmao). I’ve found a couple solo artists like presence3x with only a dozen listeners, but Spotify makes it super difficult to find them. I found City of Sound thanks to their YouTube presence, but not every indie band has that. (They’re not nearly as small as presence3x, to be clear)

Feel free to delete this ask if you don’t feel like answering—I won’t take offense! I just thought maybe it would give you an excuse to talk about music or something, since you seem to like it as much as I do.

not weird at all! my page is very quiet so nice to get the chance to babble about music :°) i guess i'm getting better at coming off as knowledgeable lol.

i try to find new music from a variety of sources - obviously looking at my blog you can see i'm a big fan of the @haveyouheardthisband project and it's been a fantastic way to discover new artists of all levels of popularity. some of those bands are super obscure and they've even compiled some of the most unheard-of into a list with recommended tracks and where to listen.

for my album-of-the-day resolution, i've taken suggestions from friends + strangers (and always open to more!), but mostly literally just use a random generator lol. for my personal rules i try to exclude compilations/live albums/various artists but really try to listen to everything else it gives me even if it's not normally my genre. it does seem to tend to generate more popular artists (surely nothing as obscure as presence3x!); the lowest monthly listenership so far is Vaqo (466) (also his stuff is quite good! would recommend). so it might not reliably return indie artists but is worth a try for fun.

another off-the-wall suggestion is Radiooooo, which is such a fun concept - radio based off a decade + country. i believe it's manually sourced by music lovers and their personal collection, which is really cool and can lead to some pretty obscure older finds!

but otherwise....i'm flattered you think i have an indie taste haha. i don't think any of my favorite songs/acts are obscure by any means, but i've never considered trying to create a playlist of my top underrated songs. but i'm inspired to do so now! i'll link it if i do make something like that. thanks for the ask and letting me ramble to a fellow Music Enjoyer :°)

#aotd #music #<- pretending like there's any organization to this blog

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biffhofosho · 1 year

Text

Prisoner to Temptation | Chapter Seven

Word Count: 9.2k

A/N: First off, it’s actually crazy to me how vocal you cool kids are about this story considering how small my little third-person POV readership bubble is. Like, I think I’m in love with you people.

Second of all, since you’re so vocal, I hear tell that a few of you would like to file some grievances with your local HR rep regarding my babygirl’s gatekeeping of herself when it comes to her husband lmao. Let’s see what our darling prince might do this chapter to pry open those gates, hm? ;)

Cvr | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12

After their second night together, Naran had found things much more troubling for her than the first. It wasn’t just that everything in her bed smelled like Hyungwon now. It wasn’t just that, after one overnight, her body had already started keeping to one side of the bed. Most damningly, she had laid awake far too long dwelling on the way her body had almost compelled her to kiss him. She tried to forgive herself, to rationalize it away as human nature, but no matter what reason she settled on, it wasn’t good enough. She had made a promise to herself that her future would not be ruled by the passing fancies of men, and when Narangerel of Moghulikhan made a choice, she was resolute. She would not invite him into her bed so carelessly so soon.

But by the same token, she had also made a promise to her sister to include the girl’s new brother-in-law in their daily activities, and Naran was also a woman of her word. Over the next week that passed, she found small ways to appease Saran while safeguarding her peace of mind.

When the sisters went to the library, the prince tagged along. Luckily, once they were there, it was a solitary experience, which made it easy for Naran while Saran and her new brother reviewed books together.

Another day, Saran had wanted to paint in the gardens, so Naran had suggested the prince come along to be her sister’s subject. Unfortunately, that backfired since Naran was a dreadful painter, and her sister had ended up begging the crown princess to pose with the crown prince. Sharing a bench for hours with her husband under a shady maple hadn’t exactly been in her plans, especially when their sides had to be pressed together.

At least during the next day, when they had all taken tea together, Naran had finagled it so her sister sat between them, and the crown princess had gotten some much needed distance, save from his big-eyed, gentle-browed looks over his tea cup.

The most challenging day had seen Hyungwon teaching the sisters how to fish in one of the ponds. Fishing wasn’t much of a skill set for the ladies of the steppe, so it had required hands-on instruction, which the prince had been more than agreeable to offer, but the difference in his instruction between the two sisters was marked. Saran had received a side-by-side cast and reel tutorial; Naran, he informed, was a hopeless case, and the prince had taken to wrapping his wife in his arms and carefully positioning her hands and body for “the perfect cast.” She might have caught her first fish that way, but it had come at the high cost of a lingering kiss to her cheek after her success.

Thankfully, the next day saw the whole party of royal ladies on an excursion to an apple festival in town since the silk festival they had initially planned on was further away, and Queen Jigme was not keen on a full day’s ride. Though Naran had been looking for an excuse to get as far away from the palace as possible, the apple festival had turned out to be lovelier than she had dreamed. She had only had apples once in Urga, and they had been far too soft and mealy for her taste, but these were firm and honeyed and all together divine in ways she’d never dreamed.

“Your Royal Highness, please, I beg you take one home for your husband,” beseeched a peddler as she crammed a particularly shiny apple into the princess’s basket.

Now, the apple felt like an anvil in Naran’s hands on the ride home. She considered eating it herself—Hyungwon would never be the wiser—but the farmer had been so proud and so insistent, and the crown princess knew she had to honor her subject’s offering. In the end, she wished she hadn’t. The way her husband’s eyes lit up as he received his first gift from his wife made Naran sway the same way she had when she’d tasted fermented apple cider that morning.

The problem with lively days was how quickly the nights came. That first evening, Hyungwon had cornered the princess in an ill-lit hallway and asked with hopeful eyes if she would visit his chambers later. It had taken all of her strength to say no.

The intensity of their last encounter had frightened Naran. Though there had never been any hope of escaping how attractive she found the man, she thought at least that she might have some measure of control over that attraction, but it had become abundantly clear that, despite her rational mind, her body craved him. She figured if she limited his trespasses into her bed—or hers into his—in time, her mind could overcome her body. Obligations could stay obligations. They could be independent partners and friends—who sometimes had to sleep together for the sake of a nation.

Of course, the more she thought of it, the less reasonable it sounded. After their first night of cataclysmic experiences, Naran realized how quickly she’d become addicted to the pleasure Hyungwon had offered her. Without him, her bed felt too big and her sheets felt too cold, even after they’d been warmed by the servants.

A few more nights like that should have been easier. They weren’t. The knowledge that her husband’s door was a mere sprint across the parlor loomed large in her overactive imagination. Which was why after only an hour into her second night alone, she had retreated to Saran’s room and stayed there the rest of the week. That way, it was easy enough to turn down the prince’s offers for the time being.

Meanwhile, as if to spite her meticulous planning, the rest of their families got along surprisingly easily considering a few months ago, their countries were on the brink of unspoken war. The emperor and the khan, in particular, seemed to have formed some kind of a bond. Most nights, they retired to the emperor’s office to drink and joke so raucously that their laughter reverberated down the halls.

The empress and queen were not as free with one another, to the point that Naran thought they were simply trying to out-noble one another. By the end of the week, in Naran’s opinion, they were neck-and-neck in propriety, modesty, and poise, though Empress Indeok held the edge in sophisticated passive aggression and Queen Jigme surpassed in subtle coercion. Truly, they were a well-matched pair, and, indeed, after the apple festival, the sisters caught the mothers stolen away in a bath closet where they no doubt never expected to be found, giggling and sipping fermented cider straight from the bottle.

Which was why the next day came like a dust storm across the steppe—brutally and unpredictably.

Queen Jigme stood in the parlor before the princess, who thought she’d carved out a moment of peace for herself as Saran and Hyungwon had gone to the kitchen for a snack.

“I have come to tell you we intend to return to Urga tomorrow.”

Air fled the room, leaving an inescapable vacuum.

Naran gaped at her mother. “What? So soon? I thought everyone was getting along? You planned to stay at least two more weeks!”

She had to have heard the queen wrong. They were having fun together. There was no reason to leave!

“Yes, but your father’s health dictates it,” added Jigme, “and you know how the weather can be crossing the steppe this close to October. Every day we delay, we risk a snowstorm, and with your father—”

“Mother, don’t lie to me. October is weeks and weeks away, and you yourself said you had never seen Father in finer spirits.”

The queen stood a little taller now, and it was clear she’d shed her act. “You’re as shrewd as your accursed mother, my obstinate sun. Since we linger here, you are spending every waking moment with the people who have seen you every day for two decades yet hardly a whit of time with your new husband.”

“I'd rather spend it with you since our time is finite,” Naran protested bitterly.

“I will not have a princess of Moghulikan dishonor the country that took her in. Be a newlywed, dearest. Have a picnic. Host a party. Go horseback riding. I have heard your Prince Hyungwon looks very handsome on a horse.”

“Mother!”

“I dare say he will look handsome anywhere, especially in the evenings. I am sure candlelight frames his face well.”

“Are you trying to get me to push you out the door because it’s working?”

“Narangerel, let me speak plainly. I know you have spent every night this week in your sister’s room instead of your own.”

The princess scuffed the toe of her shoe along the floor as she shrugged. “What of it? I knew you’d be leaving soon. Why shouldn’t I?”

Jigme was unamused. “Are you or are you not the Princess Supreme of Goryeo?”

Naran rolled her eyes. “Oh, Mother…”

“My love, you will make such beautiful heirs! I can hardly wait to receive the news of my grandchildren.”

“Okay, there it is,” Naran shouted, pushing her mother toward the door. “Yes, please go! Travel safely and wait a long time to come back.”

Jigme laughed and, suddenly, so did Naran, and then just as suddenly, they were both weeping into each other’s arms.

“How I will miss arguing with you,” said the queen into her daughter’s hair.

“I’ll make sure to pick a fight with you in all my letters.”

“And I’ll be sure to scold you back.”

They laughed again through tears and hugged all the tighter. Maybe if Naran never let go, they couldn’t leave her after all.

“If you see an eagle in the sky, be sure to tell Altantsetseg I love her,” begged the princess.

“I will.”

“And give my favorite horse to someone who will ride her often and far. Not Khunbish in the stables. He’s a terrible rider and swears at the horses. You should really turn him out.”

The queen chuckled in agreement as she nodded. “Done, my sun.”

“And please write me often,” Naran said, though the words were getting gummier through her increasingly stuffy nose, “so I don’t forget how to read Moghul.”

“You will not forget who you are, dearest. Of that, I am most certain. You are the best of us.”

“I love you, Mother.”

The queen held her daughter’s face with her hands along with her gaze. Slowly, a smile lit up the corners of Jigme’s strong features. “I love you, too.”

Naran pulled back, wiped her eyes, and tried to stand as tall as her mother had always coached her to. With a bow for her goodnight, the princess turned begrudgingly back to her quarters before her mother’s voice caught her.

“Where are you going?” asked the queen.

“To my room, as you said?”

Jigme smirked. “Your sister’s quarters are the other way. I told her moments before coming here, so she will need you one last night. Come.”

Her mother stretched out her hand, and Naran took it. As they walked back to the guest wing, the princess wondered if this would be the last time she would ever hold her mother’s hand, and she squeezed just a little tighter for just a little longer.

It was a dark day. It wasn’t just that the Moghul royal caravan had been packed and readied, the horses champing at their bits before the gates, but the clouds were thick and heavy as they jostled over Namgyeong. The threat of rain was ever-present, but just as Naran held back her tears watching her family pack into their carriage, so, too, did the clouds hold back theirs. It was only a matter of time before the deluge.

With the khan and the queen already loaded in the carriage, Saran followed, but with only one foot in the cabin, she let out a wail and leapt back out, charging over to her sister.

“This is a mistake!” the young princess shouted. “We can’t leave you here! You belong in Moghulikhan!”

“Saran!” both the queen and the crown princess said in unison.

“Get back in this carriage this instant,” admonished their mother as she eyed the emperor and empress, who were waiting to bid their guests farewell. “You’re making a scene.”

Saran didn’t care as she buried her face in her sister’s hanbok. “I could never bear a move this far from home, so how can you? I know I said I was happy for you, but not when I know what you love most is Moghulikhan. You love it so much, and you are giving it up.”

Naran summoned all her poise and bravery to soothe her little sister’s hair and kiss her head. “It is not Moghulikhan I truly love, but you, my little fox. My match will ensure you find that one special person who brings you joy. You will marry someone who will rule Moghulikhan beside you, and you will be happy and loved, and our people will be forever grateful.”

“They should be grateful to you then,” Saran protested. “I know I am.”

“Thank me by being happy.”

The girl’s hands tightened around Naran’s back. “And what about you? Can you be happy here?”

The crown princess smiled. “I can be happy anywhere knowing you are safe and free.”

“Princess Sarangerel!” called the queen again from the carriage, this time far more desperately.

The sisters rolled their eyes at one another, burst into one final giggle, and hugged one last time. Naran stole the moment to whisper, “Kiss a few boys if you want. Be smart, be strong, be fearless, and never, ever settle. You are Crown Princess of Moghulikhan now, and you are a force to be reckoned with, Your Highness.”

“I love you, Naran!”

“I love you more. Now, go, before Mother has a heart attack or Father goes deaf."

Naran shooed her sister back toward the carriage, and with one final look back, her little sister climbed aboard. One of the servants shut the door, and the next thing Naran knew, the gates had opened and the front of the caravan had already disappeared through. The last thing she saw was the grumpy beak of the goose the prince had gifted them at the wedding ceremony, a ridiculous reminder of the day her life had irrevocably changed.

Naran was sure the clatter of hooves and the snap of the Moghul banners in the sudden gusts would weigh on her mind forever as she watched the last of the carts disappear behind the great wooden doors of Changdeokgung.

“I am sorry to see your family leave,” said the empress behind Naran, startling her. As alone as she felt, the princess had honestly forgotten that anyone else was there with her. “They are very good people.”

“I thank you for saying so,” the princess replied, though her words were hollow.

Hyungwon put his hand on her back in support, but she shrank away. She wasn’t in the mood for comfort or even acknowledgment.

“I never met a man who could hold his liquor as well as Delger Khan,” said Emperor Gongmin as though he hadn’t plotted to take everything away from the man mere months ago.

Naran felt sick.

“I should like to go inside now,” she said as she turned back toward the palace. The princess did not wait for them to follow, even as Hyungwon called out for her.

It started to rain just then. It was only a few fat drops at first, but then the heavens opened with a torrent, and as the other royals scattered under servants’ umbrellas, Naran pressed forward undeterred. At least the rain could hide her tears.

It was deep into a sleepless night when Naran heard a very soft knock on her door.

With a tremendous sigh, she clambered out of bed and wrapped her robe around herself before she shuffled over and rasped, “Who is it?”

“It’s Hyungwon.”

Her head drooped. She was not in the mood to entertain a bored prince, now more than ever.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Could you open the door please?”

Naran growled and swore under her breath, but she opened the door all the same. Waiting on the other side with the sweetest of smiles was the prince.

“Hi,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“You did not. What does his highness need at this late hour?” Truly, Naran had planned to be more polite, but her eyes were tired from crying and she didn’t have the energy.

Hyungwon gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment before he said, “I wanted to see if you would join me for a drink?”

He waggled two glasses along with a bottle of clear, sloshing liquid, and as much as the princess burned to drink herself into oblivion, she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure, Princess? I know what today asked of you.”

Naran choked back a sob just before she could embarrass herself and instead offered a reluctant nod. Hyungwon echoed it and took a step forward, but she held out her hand to stop him.

“Not here,” she ordered. She wanted to be as far away from any place they could conceivably spend another night together and just as far away from the memories of the ones they already had spent.

“How about my study then? It’s quiet, and no one will bother us there.”

Another single nod from the princess.

“Shall I get dressed?” she asked.

“Come as you are,” Hyungwon answered. “There’s no need for pretenses between us.”

But Naran wasn’t so sure about that. She tugged her robe tighter and cinched the collar with her hand. Following the weak light of the prince’s candle, they walked down the corridor to a wing she had only visited on her initial palace tour. Here, the walls were dark, many draped in tapestries or heavy curtains. At night, it felt more like a brothel. She didn’t remember it looking this suggestive on her tour, yet now, the walls felt close, almost pressing against her.

“Are you okay, Princess?” asked Hyungwon. “You look like you’re going to jump out of your own skin.”

“I’m fine.”

The prince considered her words for a moment before he pushed ahead to a heavy door.

“My private study,” he said as he eased it open.

This room had been on her tour as well, but Naran had been too overwhelmed at the time to bother glancing at it. Now, she’d wished she had for the benefit of seeing it on a sunny day. As with every room in the palace, it was large with soaring ceilings, but swaddled in shadows, it was tantalizingly intimate.

Unlike most of the rooms in the palace, Hyungwon had designed his study with a Western influence. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined one wall while a long dresser anchored the other beneath an enormous mirror that no doubt cost more than the yearly salaries of all the servants back in Urga. When he lit the candelabra in front of it, the whole study glittered.

The prince’s desk commanded the space, however. It was huge and heavy, as though the tree it had once been had grown right there and they’d just built the room around it. Thick, smooth lacquer drew out the warmth in the wood like a magnifying glass while ornate carvings of tigers and dragons in eternal battle exemplified its strength. Short of the throne itself, there was no finer piece of furniture Naran had ever seen.

Hyungwon stood behind his desk, and even in his silk robes, his might was unquestionable. If he opened his lips to declare war on every kingdom in the six realms, Naran wasn’t sure she could stop even herself from kneeling.

But, instead, the prince pulled out his chair and gestured toward it. “Please sit, my lady.”

“I couldn’t possibly—”

“Please. You’ll be more comfortable here.”

Naran stared at the immaculate upholstery and overstuffed cushions before she looked back at her husband. “Are you sure?”

Hyungwon nodded and took the seat safely across the desk to make his stance on the issue crystal clear. At last, the princess sank into her chair, too, which was easily the most comfortable chair she’d ever sat in. He uncorked the bottle, and immediately, the pungent aroma of alcohol filled the study. The prince poured a draft of liquor into both shot glasses and passed one across the table.

When Naran had hers in hand, he said, “I promise, my lady, from here on out, it shall get better.”

Thinking it the toast, the princess raised her glass and knocked it back while Hyungwon followed suit with a smirk on his face. At first, Naran didn’t understand why.

Then she felt it.

Scorching agony blazed a trail down her throat to sit like lava in her stomach. For a second, she thought she might breathe fire.

“What the hell is that!” she wailed as she tried to scratch the taste of naphtha from her tongue.

“I told you it would only get better from here. You’ll like this a great deal more the second go-around.”

“I'm never drinking that again,” Naran swore.

Hyungwon smiled knowingly.

“Seriously, what is that rancid stuff?”

“A gift from the Emperor of Champa.”

“My mother was right then,” Naran mused with a slow smile, “Princess Binh was gunning for an alliance with Goryeo.”

“I wouldn't say the princess was,” Hyungwon informed. “Emperor Gia Long seemed more concerned with the match than his daughter. Princess Binh mostly just complained to me that the weather in Goryeo is too cold and that there are no beaches or coconuts here.”

“If I knew all it took to turn you off from a match was complaining about missing sand and sun, I would have spent more time talking about the Gobi.”

“It was too late by that point. I had already made up my mind about you,” said the prince. He poured another drink and offered it to her. “Again, my lady?”

She bit her lip as she considered, but the other alternative was chatting privately with her husband sober, and she didn’t have the strength left for such a thing after today. Naran downed the shot and grimaced.

“Better?” he asked.

“Still disgusting.”

“But better.”

The truth was, this time, her stomach felt warm and fuzzy instead of full of liquid fire, and her limbs were buzzing lightly. Thanks to the distracting sensations, she probed, “Were there any other princesses you considered that night?”

Hyungwon shrugged. “My father had given me a short list, but after meeting all of them, I knew I couldn’t marry any one of them.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, they were storybook princesses—all beautiful and sweet and perfect, to be sure, but completely one-dimensional.”

“That sounds perfect for you, are you crazy!” Naran retorted.

Hyungwon smiled. “Perfect for my kingdom, but you know me well enough now, my lady. I’m hardly perfect for my kingdom.”

“So, this is why I find myself sulking in the most expensive chair I’ve ever seen drinking the foulest drink I’ve ever tasted from a princess who hoped to wed my husband?”

The prince poured yet another round and said, “I’ll drink to that.”

Naran tipped back her glass, and this time, instead of a hiss as the liquid coated her throat, she hummed. “Better.”

“Told you,” said Hyungwon with two charming high eyebrows.

“That’s no reason to get cocky.”

The prince laughed, and on a day with no laughter at all, it sounded all the warmer. Or perhaps that was just the alcohol talking.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Hyungwon said.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Maybe we should take the drinks slower then. This stuff is a lot stronger than soju.”

“Maybe you should stop making my decisions for me,” Naran challenged, tapping her empty glass on the table for a refill. “I might be Goryeon by title, but I'm Moghul by birth. Alcohol is already in our blood.”

With a stern eye, the prince poured a noticeably smaller portion this round, and she sighed but drank it all the same.

Hyungwon watched her lips pucker as it went down and then he said, “How are you faring today?”

“Great. Everything is going exactly as I always hoped and dreamed,” she said, the sarcasm extra biting thanks to the bitterness in the alcohol. “Another.”

Hyungwon repeated the same shallow pour and then sat across from his wife, watching her with gentle eyes. Either he did not know what to say or he was afraid of another blow to his self-esteem—or maybe it was neither of those things. Everything about him was so soft right now, borderline inviting, like something Naran could fall right into.

“I’m afraid that was the last time I shall ever see my father.” The words were out too fast for her greased lips to catch them as was the tear at the corner of her eye. She swiped it angrily away as she grumbled, “I should have married Prince Grigoriy like my grandfather wanted.”

Hyungwon blinked hard. “Grigoriy of Kazan?”

Naran nodded. “My grandfather had intended us practically, but he could not force my hand.”

“So that’s why he was staring at you all night…” said the prince, lost in a memory of the night they met in her grandfather’s ballroom.

Naran thought back to it, too. It was harder now to recall some of the details since most of the night had been overtaken by memories of Hyungwon, but she did recall avoiding every corner of the room the Kazan prince occupied just so she didn’t have to come up with another reason to refuse him.

“I should have just married him. At least then I would have been close to home.”

The prince pouted his lower lip, and Naran’s attention couldn’t help but shoot to it—her husband did have an unfairly pretty mouth.

“But,” Hyungwon objected, “all you would have for dinner every night is beets and cabbage. We eat much better in Goryeo.”

At that, Naran burst out laughing. “You truly do. Beets and cabbage… Never thought about that. I’ll drink to that.”

The princess tipped back her glass again, and Hyungwon drained his, too.

“You know,” she said, biting her lip and leaning farther across the table than she normally would have, “you’re way too pretty. I don’t like your face.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “You don’t?”

“I do not! Even when I want to tell you to go far away from me, I cannot. It makes it very hard for me to hate you.”

“Why do you need to hate me?”

“Because if I don’t hate you, then I have to admit I have in some way accepted the man who took me away from everything I love.”

Hyungwon was quiet for a moment as he busied himself with two fresh pours. He downed his immediately while Naran watched him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Princess.”

“There’s no point in apologizing now.”

The prince kept his head down though he shook it gently. “You misunderstand. I’m not sorry that you’re by my side now, but I am sorry for what it cost you. Maybe that’s what I’m sorrier about than anything. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to becoming my father, yet I can’t regret it because you’re here now… with me.”

Naran’s hand trembled, and she misjudged the desk when she reeled back and splashed liquor all over the wood, but there was no time to care, not when the prince was staring at her so openly with such flushed, wet lips.

“I should slap you for such an insulting apology,” she said.

Hyungwon waited, perhaps for the justified blow, but Naran’s hand didn’t move.

Instead, her voice dropped as her eyes slid to the mirror where their reflections danced in the candelabra flames.

“Why did you even need me anyway? If you wanted someone to be your friend, you had a line as long as your borders. Anyone would have been a better choice for you than I am. Why did you pick the one person who thinks of marriage as the forfeiture of all freedom?”

“What is so wrong with depending on someone? I've lived my whole life without it. It isn't freedom,” replied the prince, his eyes falling to his glass. “It's a prison of loneliness.”

He knocked back the drink without so much as a wince. Somehow, as he hunched over his desk, his smooth edges blurred even further and begged her to reach out.

Naran ran her fingertip around the lip of her glass as guilt and something even more intimidating rippled through her.

“Aren’t you lonely, too?” he asked in a gruff whisper.

“It's not loneliness I feel but bitterness.”

The prince scoffed. “Of course, it is... My father was right. I am a fool.”

“You could have had anyone, my lord. As grateful as I am for the protection of my people, you didn't owe Moghulikhan anything. Why did you have to choose me?”

“I guess you can't help how you feel,” he lamented.

Panic set her heart on fire. “How do you—”

The prince cut her off with a frantic look. “Which is why I know I'm asking for the impossible, but please, for my sake, Princess, can you tell me just one thing you like about me because I can’t stand another day thinking I married someone who despises me?”

“I don’t despise you,” Naran admitted softly. “I’m not sure anyone could.”

Flashes of adoring faces from every room he had ever entered stormed through her mind, the thin-eyed, bitten-lip women clinging most tenaciously to her memories. The princess downed her last shot to chase them away.

“But you don’t like me either,” Hyungwon finished.

The couple’s gazes could not waver from one another, no matter how hard Naran fought to sever their connection.

Your eyes talk to one another…

At the memory of Magda’s words, something uncoiled in the princess’s chest and snaked through her body.

There was much about her husband Naran admired. Hyungwon listened. He defended her. He upheld his promises. But he might interpret any one of those things to mean more than just appreciation for someone she respected. Best to stick to something superficial, she thought.

As desperate to fill the Moghulikhan-sized hole in her heart as she was to avoid the dejection in her husband’s voice, the princess reached across the ocean of his desk. She held her breath, her hand frozen as though anything further would trigger a trip wire that could fundamentally rearrange everything between them.

Naran bit her lip.

“I like this little freckle here,” she said as her fingertip glanced across the pinprick dot on the side of his nose.

Hyungwon stiffened at her touch though his mouth slackened.

“And this one, too,” she continued. This time, it was her thumb that pressed on the tawny freckle dead center on his bottom lip. “I like it a lot.”

In the end, she gave away too much of herself. The prince now knew how carefully she had mapped his face. Even though a wife didn’t need a reason to look at her husband, Naran thought that maybe she should have chosen anything else. His silky hair, his expressive eyes, his proud shoulders—

Only then Naran realized she was still touching his lips.

Hyungwon kissed the pad of her thumb and her breath hitched. She yanked back her hand and tried to quash its shaking by sitting on it, but she felt the vibrations all the way up her arm even then.

“Thank you,” he muttered as he looked away at last.

Naran’s skin was aflame as she busied herself divining shapes from the inky blobs on the prince’s blotter.

“How about one final drink?” he suggested.

“Okay.”

Hyungwon poured to the rim this time, but before they could drink, out came the things that had occupied the princess’s thoughts all day as she had stared blankly in her room. “So, what happens now that everyone has gone?”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe I’m supposed to spend my days apart from yours.”

“Oh…” His eyes fell to the liquid fire in his glass. “Yes, I’m sure a princess has as much to occupy her time as a prince does.”

“So, as far as ensuring heirs, shall we establish some kind of schedule then?”

At this, Hyungwon’s face soured as the princess had never seen before. “A schedule— Does it always have to be about heirs between us? Am I not allowed to just want you sometimes, too?”

Want me? Naran thought, absolutely incredulous. Beyond the bounds of our contract?

“It is best if we keep feelings out of these things, your highness,” she answered with an embarrassingly shaky voice.

“Who’s talking about feelings? Was it ever about love with any of the others you've been with?”

“No,” she admitted.

Both lovers had been handsome, forward, and uncomplicated. Words were rarely exchanged. They had taken her at first opportunity—in alleys or the stables and once in the grass. Before her wedding night, Naran had never even had sex in a bed. And the other thing those lovers had had in common? After a few meetings, they were gone from her life. But the princess could not outrun the prince. For better or worse, they were in each other’s lives forever.

Hyungwon looked as forthright as ever as he asked, “Then shouldn’t I be able to say that I desire you as a man desires a woman? If you let them, why can’t you let me?”

Naran downed her last drink, and in her rush, a bit wept from the corner of her mouth. She licked her lips and then the corner, and there was no missing the way the prince’s eyes followed her tongue.

“Do you think,” he said slowly, “you could ever desire me?”

In the perfect silence of the empty wing, the princess could hear her every breath. It was too fast, too ragged.

“Yes.”

The air was electrified. Every hair on her arms stood on end. Somewhere outside, a dog bayed at the late summer moon.

At once, Hyungwon sent the glasses and bottle tumbling to the carpet with a thud and a splash. He kicked back his chair as he shot up to circle the desk. Naran had to crane her head to look up at the towering frame of her husband until she found his heavy eyes. Without a word, he scooped her out of her chair. The princess yelped, her hands flinging around his neck as he spun the pair of them to the now-empty desk. The smell of alcohol and something spicier swirled around them. He leaned toward her lips before catching himself at the last second, and whatever gentleness had lingered in those eyes fled entirely.

The prince was nothing but dark lusts now.

To Naran’s surprise, Hyungwon sat her on the edge of his desk, and between the cold wood and the loss of his scorching body, she shivered. It only worsened when she felt his fingers at the knot of her belt, and seconds later, her robe fell open to expose the thin white silk of her nightgown.

Hyungwon didn’t say anything. He simply stooped over to kiss the column of her throat with ravenous lips. The princess gasped and tipped her head to the side to give him more skin to taste. He was quick to cover the new ground as his hand traced up her frame to her covered breast where he toyed with the soft mound beneath. Naran’s body responded with both a desperate moan and a tightening nipple aching for his fingers to shower it with attention.

It was easy to descend into hedonism with him. Though the alcohol had burned away her resentment, Naran was still heartbroken and angry and tired of feeling both. Hyungwon, though, was warm and real and determined to transport her out of the grayness she’d been mired in, as much for her as for himself evidently.

“Is this—ah—is this for the throne?” she said through her gasps, but Hyungwon shook his head.

“Not tonight. This is for my wife.”

The princess let out a little cry as she felt the familiar tingle between her thighs. In a matter of a few words, her body was tuned to his.

Before Naran could process it, Hyungwon had dropped to his knees. With the utmost care, he eased the satin slippers from each of her feet before his fingers played about her naked ankles. There, he traced the hills and valleys along her heels and, once they were mapped, his hands glided along the flare of her calves. With his every touch, little sparklers alighted in her head and heart.

The higher his hands climbed, so did the hem of her gown. Cold air rushed under the fabric, and by the time Hyungwon had bared her knees, the princess was begging for the relief from the rush of heat to her core. Leisurely, he parted her legs, and with every inch, the princess felt a little more frantic and a little more self-conscious. Once he had spread her knees as far as the desk would allow, they quivered and threatened to close again.

“Trust me, my princess,” said the prince in his rich velvet.

“I’ve never—” Against her will, Naran’s voice shook. “I’ve never had anyone so close to me there before.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Naran held her breath. She was scared and overwhelmed and painfully aware of her body, but Hyungwon showed no sign of hesitation or second thoughts. With a shaky exhale, she admitted, “I don’t want you to.”

“Then I won’t. Not until you beg me to.”

Her husband turned his attention to one of her knees and placed his lips there. It wasn’t exactly a kiss, more like a caress with the tender skin of his mouth, back and forth in soothing waves. Occasionally, his tongue would gloss along her flesh and only then would he seal his ministration with a true kiss. With one knee bathed in his adoration, he switched to the other.

Just as Naran slouched against the desk, Hyungwon moved his mouth to her mid-thigh, and this time, he sucked the responsive skin there until she arched up with a howl. He released her, and when he pulled back, the princess saw a dark mark on the once-unblemished peachy flesh. Instantly, wanton desire trickled at her sex, begging for attention he wasn’t yet ready to give.

Hyungwon nudged his new brand with the tip of his nose before he kissed it and then placed a twin mark alongside it. He kept indulging her with his tongue until the princess was nearly ready to explode.

“Oh, please! More, my prince. Please,” Naran pleaded.

The prince broke his seal at last and shifted his gaze up to hers. He charted the sag of her jaw and the peek of her tongue lolling at the corner of her mouth, and he smiled. “More?”

“Higher!” she demanded.

Hyungwon gathered her nightgown at her hips, the fabric drooping in front of her center in a last-ditch effort of modesty but sparing nothing else for her prince’s imagination. Here, he kissed and nibbled every surrounding inch of virgin skin until Naran’s thighs shook with the foreplay and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She let out a sob of frustration, and it garnered all his attention.

Their eyes met, hers even heavier-lidded than his. Through the well of tears at her lashes, Hyungwon’s face splintered into a kaleidoscope of ethereal beauty.

“Don’t cry, my darling,” soothed the prince.

He hoisted up the last of the gown over her hips and exposed her core for him.

“Let me treat you like the princess you are.”

Naran held her breath and collapsed onto the desk, too embarrassed to watch.

She felt a kiss at the juncture of her thigh and lip followed by another mirrored on the opposite side. It was feather-light and unbearably sensual, but it was only the prelude to a new and unforgettable kind of kiss. With pulse-pounding pressure, Hyungwon raked his flush bottom lip up along her seam to kiss the hardening button peeking through, and as good as that felt, it only intensified with a second pass, this one featuring the flat of his tongue.

Naran’s moan made way for a pathetic whine. Her legs squeezed against the onslaught of pleasure, so Hyungwon curled his fingers around the meat of her thighs to keep her at his mercy.

He took his work seriously, keeping his rhythm consistent save for the swirl he would occasionally surprise her with around her straining bud. In those moments, the princess saw stars.

When her eyes finally opened, she found her head had lolled to the side, and there she found her husband’s reflection glowing, not just by tangerine flame but by something softer and even more shimmery. Hyungwon felt her gaze, and his mouth lifted from her only to be replaced by his middle finger easing deep into her pinkness. He turned toward the mirror to catch her eyes there, and slowly, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh that deepened until she felt yet another delicious burn on her skin.

“How pretty my little star looks writhing on my desk,” Hyungwon murmured, and then suckled a little higher to adorn more of her skin with his black marks of desire.

His finger moved slowly in her walls, coaxing forth ripples of ecstasy Naran had never felt before. Each stroke was deliberate and far, far too measured to do anything but keep her on the precipice of climax. It was heaven. It was hell.

“So tight,” Hyungwon hummed, and she whimpered. “So delicious. You’re totally at my mercy now, aren’t you?"

Naran couldn’t answer, but she knew he wasn’t looking for that anyway. Her legs tightened at his illicit words. Between her husband’s praise and his intimacy, she squirmed for him.

He brought his lips back to the cherry blossom at her sex, and when they closed around it to suckle, the princess keened low and long. The pressure was relentless and just right to make her forget anything that wasn’t Chae Hyungwon. Her hips bucked, but he used his free hand to hold her down while the other continued to stoke the fire inside her.

“Do you like when I spoil you like this?” he asked as he came up for air.

“Yes… Yes, yes, yes!” Naran answered. “But I want more. Faster!”

“How many times have you called me lazy, hm? Maybe I just want to take my time, to feast on you and show you what a sweet indulgence laziness can be.”

To her horror, Hyungwon removed his finger, leaving her core seizing around nothing. Tears sprang to her eyes in desperation, and she sat up on her elbows to gape at the man who was abandoning her just as her addiction had mounted to frenetic levels.

“You can’t—” she protested, but he just smiled, smug and scheming all at once.

When he dove back in, he focused on one fold and then the other, with long strokes of his tongue before pulling each one at a time into his mouth. Every nerve ending tingled. Every inch of skin yearned for more of his attention.

“Put your hands in my hair,” he mumbled between her legs, and Naran’s fingers raced into his locks.

It felt so good to hold his head in her hands. Her nails raked against his scalp before she took to tugging on the glossy strands. Hyungwon purred contentedly as he licked up the mess continuously leaking from her sex, and the noisier he was, the harder it made the princess shake until she realized she was grinding herself on his face. Mortified, she unwound her fingers from his locks as she mumbled an apology.

“I didn’t tell you to let me go,” Hyungwon scolded, and when she opened her eyes, she found him looking up at her with a chin covered in arousal and eyes fixed with determination.

It was clear he had no intention of finishing the job unless she caved to his wishes, so Naran ran her hands back through his bangs to bare his smooth brow. The prince’s eyes closed as he leaned into her grip, and it was so tender, that she thought her heart might burst, but if she stopped, he would stop, and she couldn’t bear the thought again.

Hyungwon’s finger was back at her core now with the addition of another. Together, they traced her entrance, and every time she thought he would enter her again, he deprived her of the gratification. It was the purest torture of her life, and Naran could barely stand it. Her need for her husband had reached embarrassing levels too terrifying to admit.

At last, two fingers glided into her wet and ready indecency, sending her arching up from the desk with a wail.

“It's so much!” she said between heavy pants.

“Too much?”

“Not enough!”

Hyungwon smiled as he picked up speed at last, stretching her walls with every thrust to his knuckles. Luscious coos of gratitude spilled from Naran’s lips as she took his fingers greedily. He knew just how to reach the parts inside of her that responded most ferociously, and in moments, she was teetering over the edge she’d been standing on forever.

His fingers pistoned within her now, churning up filthy sounds that brought color to the princess’s cheeks and hunger to the prince’s eyes.

“I can’t—breathe,” Naran gasped pathetically. “I’m begging you please! Please. I want to let go!”

Hyungwon groaned and dove back to her heat again. His mouth sealed around her pulsing button now as he sucked and flicked his tongue against her until she thought she might go mad. He slipped both of her legs over his shoulders and pressed against her with single-minded resolve to make her forget everything that wasn’t him.

She risked a glance at him, and things got fuzzy fast. His elegant face was framed between the softness of her thighs, his nose bumping against her mound and his eyes shuttered with conviction. Her hand cupped the back of his head as her hips couldn’t stop themselves from driving into his mouth.

And then those wicked eyes opened, locking on hers.

Bliss ripped through Naran with catastrophic devastation. Every muscle within her shook as her lungs constricted and her walls pulsed. Her heels dug into her husband’s back as her thighs clamped around his head, nearly suffocating him.

Here, on a desk where armies were commanded and laws were enforced, the princess came undone with a racking cry.

But, true to his word, Hyungwon wasn’t done.

He kept his fingers thrusting into her quaking walls as one climax ended and another threatened, only this one felt unbearable and impossible. The pleasure was too intense, and her hips tried to run from him as though they were afraid of such unfathomable ecstasy.

Naran’s mind emptied. Even through winched eyes, tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I can’t take it, oh!” she wailed.

“Yes, you can, darling,” he assured. “Just a little more, I know you can.”

“My pr— Yes, I—”

The tip of his tongue flicked her swollen bud again, fast this time and with no restraint. As her vision whitened, Naran clawed the desk, no doubt leaving scratches in the impeccable veneer. There wasn’t a muscle in her body that didn’t seize then.

Another swirl of his tongue and a long, fierce suckle, and she was gone.

She thought she might have screamed, but she might have lost any senses that weren’t solely centered on the exquisite decadence between her thighs.

She collapsed then, whimpering, the last of her strength focusing on her heel to push him back by the shoulder.

“Please, no more,” she whimpered, absolutely deflated. “I beg you.”

“As you wish, my darling. Feel better?” he asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled her gown back down her legs.

“You’re—wow,” Naran stammered. “You’re really good at that.”

Something fanged and slippery snaked through her chest at the thought of all the practice he had required to become so skilled, but with one glance at his eyes now buoyed by a soft smile, it tempered.

“Do you need help getting up?” he asked.

“You’re not going to—to take me?” the princess asked incredulously.

“I told you tonight wasn’t about the throne. All I wanted was to make you feel good, my lady. Was I successful?”

Naran narrowed her eyes at him. She could tell by the way his tongue probed his cheek and his chest puffed that the man was keenly aware of just how thoroughly he had devastated his wife. His smug confidence was as appealing as it was infuriating.

“You were,” she admitted carefully.

“It was a pleasure to serve you then, my lady. So, that’s a no to the help?”

“No,” she insisted, though as soon as she put her toes back to the ground, she wobbled and stumbled back against the desk. “Yes.”

Hyungwon snickered and helped guide Naran back into the chair, where she slumped instantly. Alcohol mixed with the chaser of ecstasy to keep the room spinning around her, so she closed her eyes while her breathing steadied. Images of her body writhing in the mirror while her husband kneeled between her legs insisted on flashing in her mind, and a sigh tumbled out of her to her absolute mortification.

“You all right?” he asked with a grin evident in his voice.

“Just fine,” she answered immediately, waving him off.

While Naran lounged in the chair, the prince picked up the glasses and bottle from the floor, and something surprisingly boastful of her own bubbled in her heart.

“I don’t think the Emperor of Champa would appreciate our use of his gift,” she laughed.

“Maybe I should write to him to thank him again?”

At the seriousness in the prince’s voice, the princess shot up in her seat. “Don’t you dare, sire!”

“And what are you going to do to stop me?”

This time, Hyungwon was unmistakably provoking her, and Naran bit her lip. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she held her liquor well, but when his playful side came out, it always made her feel drunker than she really was.

“You better not,” she warned, “or, next time, you drink alone.”

At this, Hyungwon pouted. “Didn’t I make this worth your while?”

Naran shrugged a shoulder as casually as she could manage. “Maybe this is slightly better than what I was doing…”

“And maybe this was a little for me, too,” he admitted, “because now I will think of you every time they force me in here to do work I don’t want to do. Instead, I’ll think of someone I’d rather be doing.”

“My lord!” Naran cried, indignant, as she cinched her robe tight to her throat again, and Hyungwon laughed in his carefree, spirit-lifting way.

“You’re very fun to tease, my lady.”

“And you’re very annoying, my lord.”

“How are you feeling? Are you ready to return to your room?”

Naran pressed her lips together as she considered more than just her husband’s question. When they had come here, she had been determined to keep him as far from her room as possible, but now, the understanding that she would be going back solo was more disheartening than she thought. Maybe she was lonelier than she realized.

“I think so,” she answered though.

“Then I shall see you back, Princess.”

Naran rose on still-shaky legs to join her husband in the hallway, and slowly, they made their way back toward their building. They chatted idly about their schedules for the week, his filled with meetings and diplomatic engagements while most of her obligations involved goodwill ambassadorship with the empress. It may not have been anything she had wanted for her life, but it was less onerous than she thought. Of course, maybe that was also colored by her tipsy, post-full body release daze.

Just then, Naran stumbled and caught herself against the wall. Hyungwon let out the briefest of chuckles before he stopped them both and swept her up into the basket of his arms to her yelp.

“I can manage on my own,” she protested, swatting at his arm behind her knees.

“Of course, my lady, but it's taking a very long time, and I would like to get to my room before sun-up.”

She scoffed. “Please. You're never in a hurry to get anywhere. You just wanted to show how strong you are.”

“You think I'm strong?” he echoed, but she could tell by the flex in his voice that she was on target.

Naran folded her hands defiantly in her lap even though she would have felt far stabler if she’d wrapped them behind the prince’s neck.

“You do not appreciate help, do you?” Hyungwon pressed.

“I would if I truly needed it. Are you sure you don't just like playing the savior?”

“I wouldn't say ‘just.’ Perhaps one day I hope you might need me back.”

Back?

“Besides,” he added, “I don’t mind an excuse to have your arms around me.”

“They're not—” With horror, Naran realized that her body had betrayed her, and, at some point, she had knotted her hands behind his neck after all, and worse yet, she could not will them back to her lap. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” said Hyungwon with a grin.

“After this, I feel rather badly about kicking you out of my room so quickly the other night,” she admitted reluctantly. “Perhaps next time I will not be so rash.”

“Thank you, Princess,” was all he said, though he was smiling smugly to himself again.

At last, they reached their wing, and the prince put his wife down at her doorstep, though he waited there awkwardly as neither of them seemed to know what to say.

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight,” he said into the silence. “I know you didn’t want to.”

Naran kept her eyes on her slippered feet as she replied, “Thank you for asking. Truly, I am glad I went.”

“You are?”

At the hope in his voice, her eyes shot up to find his waiting, dark as always but with none of his particular brand of blackness that made her wary of his designs. This time, the darkness was inviting—and in many ways, that made it all the more dangerous.

Hyungwon took a step forward. Naran took one back. Her spine was flush to her door, and she could feel the carvings digging through the thin fabric of her robe. His hand flattened on the panel beside her face as he leaned down.

His breath blazed in the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Please think well of me, my lady. After all, we only have each other now.”

With that, Hyungwon kissed his wife’s cheek and bid her goodnight before he disappeared through his own bedroom door.

#monsta x smut #multichapter #prisoner to temptation #hyungwon smut #royal au #arranged marriage #romance #slow burn #bodice ripper #third person

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glowingbadger · 5 months

Text

My favs of my work let's go

Okay this might be weird but while I'm so busy with other projects and sort of letting my writing battery recharge (getting small things done here and there but not stressing about it overly), I wanted to reshare some of my personal favs of my own work, just to like, idk... hype myself up and congratulate myself for once lmao. We creatives need to be a bit self-indulgent from time to time.

So yeah, if you're bored while I get my shit together and write again, maybe take a peak at these, or wander around my masterlists in my pinned post for something I might have done in the past for a fav of yours.

FE3H

Lorenz & Ignatz & Reader threesome - starting with what I suspect will be a trend with these because I'm a contrarian at heart, so when I realize a character I love isn't popular, I double and triple down and become determined to write them the hot, hot smut they deserve

Claude - Arranged Marriage - I really enjoyed doing an AU, and I'd def love to do more of them in the future. Plus Claude is the most fun and interesting of the main lords fight me about it.

Lorenz - Arranged Marriage - okay last Lorenz one but........ I'm just saying, he's a good boy y'all just can't acknowledge a glow-up when you see one.

Felix & Sylvain & Reader threesome - this is a short one but I just love the vibe and the dynamic between these lads it was so fun to write.

Seteth - Guilty Masturbation - I'm just such a sucker for repressed men dealing with their persistent lusts sorry not sorry

Seteth - Reader gets Aphrodesiac'd - okay I'm happy with this piece but also it holds a special place in my heart because for some reason, the porn bots are CONSTANTLY liking this thing specifically and I have no earthly idea why, they're just drawn to it.

Okay just one more Seteth thing it's the Priest x Succubus one - which I'm super happy with and I still sometimes think about writing a continuation for it because priest kink goes brrrrrrrrr

Things other than FE3H

Volke (FE 9/10) messy hookup - Volke is such an absolute man and it was such a joy to have an excuse to write him. Fandoms as a whole need to thirst for more sexy grown ass adults.

Reyson (FE 9/10) in heat - though this is kind of tied with the in heat one I did about Tibarn, which I also love. Bird men in heat..... that's what's up.

Kaeya (Genshin) w/ praise kink - Kaeya def remains my Genshin fav, and no amount of "Hoyo finally figuring out how to model an adult male body years into the game's run" will change that.

Luxord (Kingdom Heart) consensual non-con - it's just so rare that I get to write for my Org XIII lovelies and it's just so fun to write sex dialogue for such a resolutely sexless series lmao

Kurama (YYH) giving oral - I've written quite a lot for Kurama at this point (on here, mostly shorter drabbles and headcanons) and it's still always a pleasure, and I'm particularly fond of the subtle playfulness in this piece.

OCs! Shaeliegh and Terry - angsty hookup - I had SO much fun writing OC stuff for once and it's totally fine that others aren't as inclined to be into it, but I personally think it's some of my best work and enjoy rereading it frequently~

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vodkassassin · 8 months

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I’d be interested to see what you’ve got for your OC Obi-wan Insert?

Ah, another WIP Wednesday ask! Thank you.

Honestly I should rename it Weekday WIP at this point alfjksjd. Also this ended up being WAY longer than originally anticipated, my bad lmao

“You fought well, but you hold much anger within you.”

Obi-wan Kenobi pulls up short, blinking rapidly as they stare at the absolute goliath of a man that looks over them. There’s something about the guy’s presence that almost feels threatening, in a way. The emotions that emanate from him, what little can be sensed past the impressively fortified shields that befit any master, are tinged with something that tastes like judgement and final resolution.

As if this man had taken one look at Obi-wan before they had even stepped out into the tournament ring and had already decided his opinion of them.

Which is exactly what Quigon Jinn had done. In fact, even before setting eyes on Obi-wan, they know that Jinn had already made up his mind. Coming to the tournament to watch them fight had the sole motivation of finding some excuse to reject them as quickly as possible.

Which is fine. Jinn doesn’t want a padawan and Obi-wan knew that from the beginning. In fact, they find the meddling of the council — or perhaps one person on the council — quite insane and manipulative. They had no right to force Jinn to basically adopt another child when he didn’t want one.

And trying to force a child upon someone who doesn’t want one never ends well, so isn’t that sort of like putting Obi-wan themself in danger?

So, in this one thing, Obi-wan is on Jinn’s side.

But nowhere else.

Obi-Wan wants to scowl. They already have the answer to this. They have their entire life here. Quigon Jinn is a nonentity.

Except, here he is. Here to bring the mood of the room plummeting down.

Instead of scowling, though, they keep their face passive. There’s little need to give Jinn even more ammunition. Even if the fact that this grown ass adult man has decided to scorn a child for something out of either of their control absolutely burns.

“Everyone holds anger within them, Master Jinn.” They reply politely, sketching a bow that they already know doesn’t have a single fault. The very perfection of it makes Jinn’s frown even more severe. “It’s the consequence of sentience, to have emotions about the universe around you.”

It makes Obi-wan want to needle the man even more.

“Allowing those emotions to control you is a very different matter than simply having them, Initiate Kenobi.”

Wow, the emphasis on that word, as if this grown ass man is trying to make a clear point. Well, point very much made!

The gall.

Obi-wan takes a slow, steadying breath, passive mask barely flinching. Inside, though —

Maybe Jinn is right. They are filled with rage. Curious, however, that the only time they’ve ever felt like this is when confronted with Jinn himself.

Really makes one think.

Theyre lost in thought, they realize, and flit their eyes upward again just in time to catch Jinn shaking his head firmly.

“I will not take you as my padawan.”

Obi-wan simply blinks.

Feeling uncharitable, they reply, “Master Jinn? Were you looking for one? It’s only; last that I heard, you were against the notion.”

That gets him. The man straightens up, blinking in a somewhat startled fashion before his expression goes purposefully blank.

Obi-wan does not allow any victory to show on their face.

“I’m sorry if you were disappointed in my tournament exhibition. Now that the topic is brought up, though, I must say that I have to agree with you. As a practitioner of the Living Force, you’re absolutely correct to pass over me as a student. Our paths in the Force are far too different to work well together.” Obi-wan shrugs lightly, glancing across the room to watch impassive masters and knights pass by on the catwalk below the viewing room that they’re in.

He turns back to find Jinn staring at him with an unreadable expression.

“It’s unwise to claim that you have little to learn from me. Arrogant, even.”

It’s not like he even wants to be their teacher anyway! Why is he so offended at the hint that Obi-wan might reject him?

Fucking adults and their superiority complexes. Fucking men and their egos.

Also! Putting words into their mouth! That’s one of their fucking pet peeves.

Obi-wan smiles politely, as serene as can be.

Maybe going Sith isn’t such a bad idea…

No. If they did that then maybe the council would send Jinn after them. The consequences were not worth the freedom of being able to do whatever the hell they wanted (and look hot while doing it. Fuck you Palpatine, you did it all wrong).

They let their smile drop. Jinn is a grown man, and he’s right here purposefully antagonizing a child.

They are a child. Just a little twelve year old.

Obi-wan blinks rapidly and breathes in through their nose a little too sharply. They turn slightly to look away, but watch from the corner of their eye as a grimace takes over Jinn’s face.

Eat the consequences of your actions, you sorry excuse of an adult.

“Now, I know that you are close to aging out…” the man begins, likely about to say something along the lines of ‘maybe another master will chose you in the next few weeks’ in an attempt to placate them and stop the floodgates, but Obi-Wan interrupts before he can.

“It’s okay, Master Jinn.” They say, gently. They give the pathetic man standing before them a small, somewhat watery smile. “You don’t have to try and make me feel better. I have to experience feelings for myself or I’ll never be able to understand them and let them go properly. I…”

They swallow, blinking a lot — maybe more than they really need to, their eyes are feeling quite dry despite the tearful quality they’ve achieved — and take a small step back.

“My crechemate, Bruck — my opponent for the exhibition, in fact — taught me that. I’m grateful that he did, because it ensured I knew not to hope for the impossible.”

There’s an uncomfortable expression on Jinn’s face. Obi-wan’s smile widens just barely, and they hope the sharpness of it is still on the inside.

They sketch a light bow, one much stiffer than the one they’d given in greeting initially. Show discomfort, hesitance.

“I have some bags to pack, so I’m afraid I’ll be leaving you first, Master Jinn.” They say. “Please do have a wonderful evening.”

They turn on their heel and book it out of there. Ideally, it looks like they’re barely holding back tears and don’t want the esteemed master to see them vulnerable, but mostly they just need to get out of that goddamn room.

Here’s to hoping that they never have to be in the same space as Jinn ever again.

Unfortunately for them, nothing is ever that fucking easy.

#Obi-Wan Insert #Star Wars fanfic #OC-insert #Vodkassassin fanfiction #WIP Wednesday #my kid is a potty mouth I apologize #they’re just angy

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