#Miss Blue Lotus

[lotus-pear]

Do you think that BEAST Dazai prevented the event of Azure King to ever happened bc it would prevent Kunikida of doing so many other things and die like the last chapter- He doing everything to make Oda live, but also Kuni living too

this is true but people actually theorize that since dazai isn’t there to ground kunikida he may very well be the azure king in the beast universe as he lets the flames of his ideals consume and blind him without someone to hold him back from breaking. many ppl don’t often realize how much dazai has to keep kunikida’s passively suicidal tendencies in check bc he’ll try to sacrifice himself and pass it off as saving others (ie the most recent chapter)

[chikoparfait]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𓆝 𓆟 first love yves 𓇢𓆸

[astrcthesiai-archived]

Chrome 13yo (No Shipping) 23yo (Ten years later) (Multi-shipping) Biromantic/Bisexual

Nico Robin 28-30yo (Multi-Shipping) Panromantic/Pansexual Nefertari Vivi 16yo (No Shipping) 18yo (Multi-Shipping) Biromantic/Bisexual Endorsi Zahad (No sexual nsfw content) Multi-Shipping Grayromantic/Graysexual

Eiji Okumura (Request only) (No sexual nsfw content) Multi-shipping Biromantic/Demisexual Sing Soo-ling (Request only) 14yo (No shipping) confirmed 18+ (Banana Fish: Garden of Light) Multi-Shipping Biromantic/Bisexual Hino Rei/Sailor Moon (No sexual nsfw content) Eternal Sailor Mars+: Multi-Shipping Biromantic/Bisexual Kaiou Michiru/Sailor Neptune (No Sexual nsfw content) Eternal Sailor Neptune+: Selective Multi-shipping Biromantic/Bisexual

Roberto de Niro 40s (Platonic Shipping only) Heterosexual/Heteromantic

Aquarius Looks 20s (Immortal) Multi-shipping Biromantic/Bisexual

Juvia 18-20s Multi-shipping Biromantic/Bisexual Hythlodaeus Late 20s, early 30s in Amaurotine Ancient Multi-shipping Pansexual/Panromantic Venat (Testing) Looks early 30s in Amaurotine Ancient Multi-shipping Pansexual/Panromantic

Chronica (Testing) Over 20 Multi-shipping Pansexual/Panromantic (?) Jill (Testing) 20s, early 30s Multi-shipping Demiromantic/Demisexual

Clive (Testing) 20s, early 30s Multi-shipping Demiromantic/Demisexual

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

How would you describe Chang's relationship with his adoptive parents in your wonderful au?

Chang is adopted pretty quickly, so it's likely they didn't get much time to get to know each other as well as most adopted families nowadays. My thoughts on Chang and his adopted family are below!

Chang's heroism in The Blue Lotus was impressive, which leads to lofty expectations Chang himself feels incapable of meeting. He struggles to adapt to life in Shanghai, the Wangs' upper middle class culture and has problems at school, having missed out on a few years of education and a lot of unresolved trauma.

He's frustrated at his own inability to fit in, and guilty about flubbing this opportunity at life they gave him. Part of him feels like he's tearing their family apart. The Wangs are desperately trying to give Chang a good life, but feel completely out of their depth.

He also can't help but compare himself to Didi, his much older adopted brother and their biological son, who is scarily competent and a clear favourite of their mother.

Didi is aware that his father may have expectations for Chang to join the Sons of the Dragon. Having experienced the pressure and danger first-hand he takes it upon himself to foster a sense of agency in Chang so he will be capable of choosing for himself when the time comes. Didi trains Chang in martial arts and is tough on him in general, but encourages Chang to travel when he expresses an interest in it. Chang on the other hand encourages Didi to have fun and let loose!

Mr Wang has high expectations for Chang because he believes in him. He and Mrs Wang genuinely care for him and only want the best possible life for him, but this sometimes comes across as them expecting Chang to be somebody else. They first thought Chang was much like Didi, disciplined and quiet, but Chang's rebellious streak catches them off guard. Mrs Wang is particularly shaken.

It struck me how gentle the Wangs were with Didi while he was under the influence of madness poison, and as they are good friends with a mental health specialist, they would absolutely take Chang's mental health seriously. Whether or not they fully understand each other is another thing. As Chang slips into a deep depression they decide to send him off to London to meet his uncle, hoping a change in scenery will help him. On his way through Tibet however, his plane crashes into the mountains...

[shixcherie]

Gut Feelings Got Me Here (pt.1) | Song Mingi ☆

◂◂ Part one of Little Miss Strategist series ▸▸

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List | Little Miss Strategist series (coming soon...)

☆ Day 28 : Impact Play

↬ [ Synopsis ] : As a princess, you were not accustomed to hearing “NO” from anyone in the kingdom. That changed when you had your first encounter with Mingi, the royal sculptor, whose silent, mysterious, and dark personality drew you in like a curious kitten. Will curiosity kill this kitten, or will a love so powerful emerge from all the painfully pleasurable and torturous intimacy that even death itself would step aside?

☆Word Count : 11.6k (yup, i went fucking overboard..sry ;P) ☆Genre : Smut with alot of plot, Angst, Royal Au, Historical Au. ☆Pairing : Royal Sculptor! Mingi x Youngest Princess! F.Reader

☆☆☆ WARNINGS : mdni!, Historical setting, Pure Smut(18+), some royal-ish plot, impact play, Reader is masochist while Mingi is sadistic, pain play, angsty atmosphere, knife usage (mild), mentions of blood, Mingi is holding a secret , bondage, use of bondage gear, oral (ffem recieving), Mingi is tough nut to crack, reader is a menace but quite intelligent (when the situation demands), praise, pet names ( darling, little princess, honey) mentions of traumatic past, deadly royal punishments, self submission, pain play, nipple play, something secret plans are being carried out against the royal family.

NOTE : Yes… I’m going to continue and complete Kinktober, even though we’re way past the 31st. I really want to finish this challenge and not leave it incomplete, so I hope ma chéries will enjoy this royal love between a princess and the royal sculptor.

p.s: I was gonna post this on 15th nov but then my brain went "no no no...add more stuff!" so i-uhh well..fucking did that and now its kinda super duper long.

↬ Also, turning this into a mini series cuz I cannot for the sake of my freaking life write a plot heavy one shot..so hope you will become a part of this mini series. Enjoy ma chéries.

The grand hall glowed under the soft light of lanterns wrapped in red and gold silk, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. Ornate wooden screens, carved with intricate dragons and phoenixes lined the walls, while tall pillars adorned with lotus flowers and mythical creatures stretched up toward the ceiling. The faint scent of sandalwood and jasmine lingered in the air, carried by the smoke of incense burning in bronze holders.

Members of the court gathered quietly, their rich robes were a sea of deep greens, dark blues, and royal reds, each shimmering with golden and silver embroidery.

All eyes were fixed on the man in the center of the room, the royal sculptor, Song Mingi. The fifth-generation sculptor of the Song lineage knelt on a woven mat, working carefully on a block of marble. With each tap of his chisel, he carved a likeness of your mother, the Empress. His movements were slow and deliberate, his focus entirely on the task at hand.

Seated near the front, you tried to maintain a composed expression, though your patience was starting to wear thin. Art could be beautiful, yes, but this endless tapping and chiseling ? It felt tedious, even unnecessary. You had far more interest in the kingdom’s politics and the strategies behind running the empire. The court’s art was all well and good, but it wasn’t what you spent your time studying.

You glanced at your father, the Emperor, dressed in indigo royal robe embroidered with golden dragons. His expression was one of complete absorption, as if he had no other thought in the world.

“What an exquisite talent,” he murmured, his deep voice carrying through the hall.

Beside him, your eldest brother, Chan, nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on Mingi. “Indeed, Father. Each stroke reveals more than just an image. It’s as if he’s capturing mother’s essence.”

Your mother, the Empress, wore a faint smile, her hair pinned with golden lotus-shaped pins that shimmered in the warm light. Her expression softened as she gazed upon the developing sculpture. “To see beyond the stone… It takes more than just talent,” she remarked. “It’s rare to find an artist who can capture not just a face, but the spirit within.”

Another tap of the chisel. You fought the urge to sigh. It’s just a statue, you thought. Why does it need all this reverence or this much silence?

The Emperor leaned forward, his voice both commanding and gentle. “Mingi,” he called, drawing the sculptor’s attention. “You capture the likeness with great skill. But tell me, what is it that inspires you ?”

There was a slight pause before Mingi looked up from his work, meeting the Emperor’s gaze. His expression was unreadable, the lines of his face set in a stoic mask. His deep voice was low, but steady. “Your Majesty,” he replied, “the Empress’s strength and loyalty to the kingdom… these are what guide my hand. Only by capturing the heart behind the face can the sculpture come to life.”

Another long pause, and Mingi returned to his chisel, not showing the slightest sign of being affected by the royal presence. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Strength, loyalty, heart… How dramatic, you thought, tapping your fingers restlessly against the chair.

If I had that much time on my hands, I could come up with something more exciting to focus on, like the political affairs in the council.

Your father’s voice cut through the stillness again, his tone suddenly darker, though you paid little attention to the words. “Mingi,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, “you have until the end of the month to finish. I trust you understand the importance of the deadline.”

You didn’t hear the slight tightening of Mingi’s jaw, nor did you notice the brief flicker in his gaze. You were far too absorbed in your own thoughts, eyes glazing over as you glanced around the room, your patience stretching thin.

Another chisel tap. Another pause. You sighed, tapping your fingers lightly against the armrest of your chair.

How much longer could this go on ?

Mingi’s voice, calm and composed, replied in a steady rhythm, “Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.”

The air in the room seemed to grow heavier with the exchange, a subtle shift that you couldn't quite place, but you remained too disinterested to care.

Your gaze wandered over the court members, the lavish tapestries, and the flickering lanterns, anything to distract you from the monotony of this sculpting demonstration. Your mother, beside you, seemed content enough, her gaze soft as she watched the work take shape. Your father, too, was absorbed, his eyes locked on the sculptor.

Why can’t they just see it for what it is ? you thought. A statue. A simple statue. What’s all the fuss about ?

You shifted in your seat, supressing a yawn as you leaned back. The tension in the room was palpable, but it had no effect on you. Whatever hidden meaning there was in your father’s words didn’t matter,not when the only thing you could focus on was the mind-numbing repetition of Mingi’s chisel.

The Emperor’s next words were softer, quieter, and you almost didn’t hear them. “Make sure you do not fail,” he said, his gaze lingering on Mingi, the weight of the statement settling into the silence.

Mingi responded with another brief, “I will not fail.”

The room returned to its tense stillness, but you were still lost in your own boredom, oblivious to the gravity of the exchange. It was a moment that would have been heavy with meaning for anyone paying attention, but to you, it was just another moment in an endless sea of dull ones.

Chan noticed, a quiet chuckle slipping from him. Leaning toward you, he whispered, “Finding this all a bit dull, little sister?”

You shot him a wry smile, grateful for the distraction. “Is it that obvious ? I mean, I don’t see how you and Father find all this so thrilling.”

Chan raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Art is more than just entertainment. Discipline, focus… there’s beauty in it.”

You tried to look thoughtful but knew you probably just looked bored. “Maybe. But why does he have to be so serious ? It’s just a statue.”

Your mother’s soft voice caught you off guard. “One day, my dear, you may find that focus and patience are beautiful in their own right. There is a quiet power in restraint.”

You gave her a polite nod, but inside, you couldn’t help but disagree. Your gaze returned to Mingi, who was still working with that infuriatingly stoic expression, seemingly oblivious to the admiration around him. It was as though he existed on another plane, one where he didn’t feel the need to acknowledge anyone watching him. He was as much a part of the stone as he was its sculptor. Hard, unmoved, and silent.

You slumped back in your seat, determined to endure this as best you could. But for all your efforts to ignore him, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity.

Who was this man, this royal sculptor, who could stand so unmoved before the royal family ?

As soon as the sculpting session concluded, you leapt from your seat, eager for a more exciting ways to spend your time. A group of maids hurried after you, struggling to keep up as you moved from room to room, as each maid follow behind you. They whispered gentle protests as you made your rounds, but they knew better than to try stopping you. Even when they did, you always managed to slip past them with a playful grin on your face which was both charming and unstoppable.

Being the youngest of the three royal children, you were treated with an abundance of care, and no request that left your lips was ever refused. As the Emperor’s darling little princess, you were never burdened with any royal duties. You were your mother’s most precious child, especially since you had been born premature and required constant attention from the very beginning. This made your parents cherish you even more.

Though all this love and attention spoiled you, it also motivated to gain knowledge in various fields. Growing up, you observed your eldest brothers, Chan and Minho, as they became powerful figures. Chan, the Crown Prince, was groomed to rule, while Minho served as the Kingdom’s general, leading the army at the northern borders of your vast kingdom.

As their baby sister, you were showered with love and affection, and they never hesitated to help you with your studies.

Breezing from one room to room, nothing seemed to peak your interest until you reached the royal kitchen, where two of your favorite chefs , Wooyoung and Yunho were engrossed in preparing the dessert for the royal banquet.

The smell of sweet pastries and savory stews filled the air while Yunho and Wooyoung were absorbed in their work, carefully arranging fruit tarts and custard buns on silver trays. As you tiptoed up behind them, your maids tried to hold you back, whispering, “Princess, please, the chefs are busy preparing for the banquet…”

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” you said brightly, startling Wooyoung so much that he almost sent the whipped cream flying.

“Princess!” he gasped, clutching his chest. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that!”

“Oh, Wooyoung, you’re too jumpy,” you laughed, sneaking a finger into a bowl of honeyed custard. “And who could resist all these treats ?”

Yunho gave you a playful glare. “And there goes the custard,” he said, clicking his tongue. “You’ll spoil your appetite before dinner, princess.”

“Not if I keep it a secret from everyone,” you replied slyly, reaching for a spoonful of candied fruit.

With mock horror, Wooyoung moved to block the tray of ingredients. “No, no, no! You’ve already sabotaged half our desserts!”

You leaned in close, smirking. “Not my fault, its just that my favorite chefs make the best deserts in the world that I can’t contain myself.”

Yunho chuckled and shook his head. “Remind me never to let you in here while we’re working.” He tried to shoo you out, but you swiped one last piece of fruit, grinning triumphantly as you left the kitchen, their playful grumbles reaching your ears as you walked to the banquet with your maids trailing behind as they sighed at your antics.

The royal banquet in evening was a grand success, with the chefs’ culinary creations earning well-deserved praise. You swarmed through the crowd, exchanging warm greetings with friends and royal guests from neighboring kingdoms. All the while, you felt Chan’s watchful gaze on you, ensuring you wouldn't try any mischief in the midst of the gathering.

As you savored the delicious food, your eyes landed on Mingi, the royal sculptor who was standing a corner, but he was not alone. He was deep in conversation with an elderly man who looked to be a high-ranking official. The discomfort on Mingi’s face was unmistakable, and there was a hint of fear in his eyes as he listened to the older man. His hands fidgeted nervously, confirming your suspicions.

What is wrong with him ? Who is that official ? Why does he look so scared ?

Your thoughts were interrupted and your feet lifted off the ground, when your second brother, Minho, swooped you up into his arms. You gasped, playfully swatting at his shoulder.

“Brother!” you gasped, squirming in his grip. “When did you get back ? And put me down, would you ? What kind of behavior is this ?”

Minho only laughed, ignoring your protests as he carried you effortlessly through the crowd. “What, no warm welcome for your favorite brother ?”

“You’re the general, for heaven’s sake!” you huffed, still trying to wriggle free.

But your attempts were futile as Minho simply laughed and carried you through the crowd, drawing amused glances from nearby guests who were well-accustomed to his playful antics. He winked at you before delivering you directly to your mother, where the two of you were swept into the flow of conversation with family and friends.

The concerning thoughts about Mingi faded to the back of your mind as night settled around you.

—

The next day you embarked on another one of your side quest. On your way you passed Mingi’s sculpting chamber, he was carefully chipping and giving a shape to yet another statue. His face as usual was stoic, giving away no emotion as he engrossed in his work.

As you were about to leave for the training grounds, a small scar on his hand caught your eye, it was definitely from working on the sculptor. Suddenly his scared face from the yesterday’s banquet flashed infront of your face as you slip into deep thoughts.

Why be soo serious and engrossed in a work of this sort where you don’t even have time to take care of yourself ? You thought before making your way to the training grounds.

Carefully skipping the Apothecary in the way, where the royal doctor Yeosang, who also happens to be your master who taught you medicine was busy working with some herbs. Quietly, you slipped out to the training grounds, where San and Jongho, your brother Minho’s right-hand men, were practicing their sword skills.

Their movements sharp and focused, their wooden practice swords clacking as they clashed. As you approached,your maids came running to you, whispering, “Princess, it’s dangerous…” You thought you had sneakily escaped their watchful eyes.

“Go easy on him, Jongho! He’s not used to winning!” you cheered from the sidelines.

San’s face twisted in a mixture of shock and slight annoyance as he looked over his shoulder. “Princess! Are you here to distract us or give encouragement?”

“Oh, I’m here to keep things interesting,” you replied, grinning.

Jongho chuckled and gestured for you to join. “How about you, Princess ? Want to show us your swordsmanship ?”

You raised your hands, laughing. “I wouldn’t want to kingdom in your safe hands”

You clapped your hands, watching as the two resumed their practice, but you couldn’t help tossing out little comments to keep them on their toes. “Jongho, don’t let San get the better of you! And San, maybe try not falling for the same move twice?”

San sighed in mock defeat. “I’d be doing so much better if I didn’t have a certain royal running commentary,” he muttered, though the glint in his eyes said he didn’t mind one bit.

As they resumed their sparring, the faint smile did not leave their lips despite their best efforts to focus. The maids behind you exchanged worried looks, but they knew better than to interrupt. They could only sigh as you moved on to go back to your chambers in order to do your daily studies.

On the way to your chambers, you noticed the royal apothecary doors were open, and with Yeosang nowhere in sight, you welcomed yourself inside despite your maids’ protests urging you to go back to your room.

After about thirty minutes, you emerged from the apothecary, casually wiping your hands clean. Just then, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Princess,” Yeosang’s calm yet stern tone stopped you in your tracks. You turned, attempting an innocent smile as he raised an eyebrow at you. “And where were you today instead of attending our teaching session ?”

“Oh… umm… I was just studying in the library,” you replied, attempting to sound convincing. “Librarian Seonghwa gave me a few books about political alliances and strategies… so…” You tried to keep a straight face, concealing the fact that you had actually been at the training grounds with San and Jongho.

Your maid sighed behind you, which caught Yeosang’s attention, but he let it go this time.

Yeosang’s gaze narrowed as he looked at the apothecary, then back at you. “And what exactly were you doing inside the apothecary?”

“Oh… well, I was just… um… looking for some rare herbs…umm.. for tea! Yes, I wanted to surprise my mother with a new blend,” you replied, hoping it sounded convincing.

Yeosang’s expression softened slightly. “Alright. That’s good. But try not to skip the class again,” he said, his tone both kind and unwavering.

With a sheepish nod, you promised to be there next time before making a quick escape.

Meanwhile, far from the apothecary, Mingi sat in his sculpting chamber. A small jar of ointment had arrived, sealed with the royal doctor’s distinctive stamp. Attached was a short note, instructing him on how to apply it to reduce scarring.

Mingi turned the jar in his hands, his brow furrowing as he wondered who could have sent it, especially with such precise instructions. Deciding not to question the gesture, he applied the ointment to his scarred hand, feeling a faint relief as the cool medicine soothed his skin. Setting the jar aside, he resumed his work, his usual stoic focus slowly returning.

—

Next morning, the palace courtyard bustled with the lively early morning activity, sunlight filtering through the trees and casting long shadows on the stone path. You were just moments away from the library for your morning session with Seonghwa, the royal librarian and your master who taught you royal etiquettes, when a familiar voice cut through the air.

You stopped in your tracks and turned to see a frowning Minister Hongjoong and your brother Minho who was lounging in a chair with a smug grin on his face. A finished chess game board rested between them.

“Well, if it isn’t our little strategist,” Hongjoong greeted, his tone light but laced with frustration. His brow was furrowed in a mix of annoyance and amusement, clearly because Minho had bested him again.

You greeted them both, and Hongjoong glanced at the chessboard between them, shaking his head. “That’s eight matches, and eight losses. I’m beginning to think your brother is impossible to beat.”

Minho smirked, leaning back in his chair with a confident grin. “Impossible ? Not at all, Minister. Maybe you just need someone who won’t make it so difficult for you.” He glanced at you with a teasing gleam in his eye. “My sister, perhaps ?”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Your sister ? Do you really think she'd be an easier challenge?"

Minho laughed softly, clearly enjoying the banter. “I’m pretty sure she’ll be just as much of a handful as me, but who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky."

Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with challenge as he turned to you. “Oooooh ? Is that so ? Well then, Princess, how about a match?”

“I’m so sorry, Minister Hongjoong, but I have to be in the library. Master Seonghwa will be very angry if I skip the lesson,” you tried to excuse yourself.

But Hongjoong pressed, “I’ll speak with Seonghwa, don’t worry, Princess Y/n. Defeat me, and I’ll grant you three wishes of your choosing.”

“Three wishes ?” you repeated, lifting an eyebrow as you exchanged a glance with Minho, whose smirk widened at the challenge.

Minho chuckled softly, thoroughly entertained. “Oh, don’t worry, Minister. It’ll be over in minutes. Today your luck seems extra bad with chess.”

Hongjoong’s pride flared at Minho’s words, and his smile sharpened. “Perhaps you are too confident in your sister’s abilities. I won’t make it easy.”

Minho leaned in, his voice thick with playful mockery. “Don’t go easy on her, Hongjoong. It’ll make it all the more fun when she beats you.”

The gauntlet was thrown, and there was no turning back now. You took a steady breath and nodded, accepting the challenge.

“Alright, three wishes if I win,” you agreed as your pulse quickened. The game began with the pieces set on the board.

As the game unfolded, Hongjoong’s moves were calculated, each one sharp and deliberate, his gaze never wavering. You matched his intensity, your mind working at its full speed, weighing every possibility.

But as you considered your next move, something caught your attention.

Across the courtyard, Mingi stood in quiet conversation with the same high-ranking official you had seen at the banquet. His posture was tense, his usually stoic expression strained, and the exchange between them seemed uneasy like something was off. Mingi’s hands fidgeted, and the official leaned in close, his words low and firm. Mingi’s eyes flicked away, his jaw clenched before he nodded reluctantly.

Your heart skipped a beat. Why does he look so unsettled ? The uneasy feeling you’d dismissed at the banquet two nights ago resurfaced, gnawing at you as you watched him, unaware of Minho’s watchful gaze on you, as your eyes lingered on the royal sculptor.

“Princess ?” Hongjoong’s voice cut through, drawing you back to the game. His brow was furrowed, waiting for your move.

You focused back on the board, shaking off the unease that had distracted you, and locked into the game again. The moves began to fall into place, and soon Hongjoong’s defenses started to crack. His confidence wavered as the pieces shifted in your favor.

It was clear that Hongjoong had no chance of winning now. His gaze hardened while Minho chuckled beside you. With swift precision, you moved your bishop into place, trapping his king in the corner, making it impossible for him to escape.

“Checkmate,” you said softly, meeting the Minister’s gaze, victory twinkling in your eyes.

Hongjoong stared at the board, disbelief flashing across his face. Minho burst into laughter, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, completely unfazed.

“See, Minister ? I told you it’d be over in minutes,” he teased, his grin wide. “Looks like my little sister knows a thing or two after all.” He reached over to gently ruffle your hair as he admired your game.

Hongjoong managed a faint chuckle, though the blow to his pride was clear. “Well played, Princess. I seem to have underestimated you,” he said.

Minho didn’t miss a beat. “Better luck next time, Hongjoong,” he teased. “Perhaps you should find a gentler opponent next time.”

Hongjoong gave a rueful smile. “I’ll remember that, General.” he muttered. “And as promised, Princess, three wishes are yours to command. Use them wisely.”

As Hongjoong walked away, Minho leaned in with a grin, his voice low but amused. “Impressive work,” he murmured. “Just don’t ask for anything too easy. Okay?”

You smiled slyly in return. “I’ll make of that.”

But as Hongjoong disappeared into the distance, your gaze drifted back to where Mingi had stood. The unease that had been creeping up on you during the game returned, stronger now. There was something more to his conversation with the official, something you didn’t fully understand.

What was going on? And why did Mingi seem so unsettled? More importantly, why am I so concerned about him anyways ?

In the evening, after finishing your studies and wrapping up the day's tasks, you decided to take a stroll through the garden. The evening sky had begun to change, painted with soft oranges and purples as you savored the peacefulness that came with the beautiful sunset, with no maids trailing behind you. It was just you and the cool evening breeze, uninterrupted.

As you wandered, your gaze fell upon Mingi’s sculpting chamber, tucked away in a quiet corner of the palace. You had often wondered what went on behind its stone walls, curious about the man who worked in such isolation. Mingi rarely spoke to anyone, kept to himself, and seemed detached from the world around him.

You’d seen him pass by occasionally, his usually calm expression betraying nothing of the thoughts that lay beneath.

What was it that made him so distant ?

You had heard nothing concrete, but sometimes, when you caught him in a rare moment of vulnerability, there was an almost visible tension around him. It was as if there was a weight on his shoulders, as if something inevitable that he couldn’t escape was waiting for him. He was always buried in his work, meticulously carving away at his sculptures for the royal family and higher-ups.

But tonight, something felt different. A strange impulse stirred within you to check up on him, to see how he was doing. You knew he had been working tirelessly for days, never leaving the chamber except to eat or sleep, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the toll was starting to show.

Was his hand okay ? Has he eaten yet ? Why am I even concerned about him ? He never interested me in the first place, nor is sculpting any of my passions, so… why am I concerning myself with such trivial matters ? You brushed the thoughts off, thinking it was your doctor instincts kicking in.

With a steady breath, you approached the chamber door and pushed it open.

The air in Mingi’s workshop was thick with the scent of freshly carved stone and the faint scent of sweat from hours of labor. The light was dim, casting long shadows that stretched across the cold floor, making the room feel both alive and suffocating at the same time.

He stood at his workbench, eyes focused on the figure he was sculpting, the chisel in his hand moving with the kind of precision that only comes from years of practice.

But as always, he was alone.

You watched him for a moment, standing quietly in the doorway. There was something about him. Something so mysterious, withdrawn, that made you wonder why he kept so much to himself. The rumors swirled, of course, but none gave you a concrete reason for his strange demeanor.

You couldn’t stand it anymore.

And your curiosity got the better of you.

“Are you always this quiet ?” you asked, your voice breaking the silence as you stepped into the room. You didn’t wait for an invitation as there was something about him that made you want to push, to question, even if it irritated him.

Mingi didn’t flinch. His chisel paused mid-stroke, but his eyes didn’t shift toward you. The only acknowledgment was the briefest tightening of his jaw, a hint of irritation that quickly disappeared.

“I don’t need company nor do I like talking.” he said flatly, not looking up. His voice was deep and rough, the words blunt, as though he had said them a thousand times before. There was a coldness in them that sent a chill through you, but it only piqued your curiosity more.

“But why ? You’re always alone. Always working.” You moved closer, your voice soft but insistent. “Why do you keep to yourself like this ?”

There was a flicker in his eyes before he turned to face you fully. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and intense. The room seemed to shrink, the weight of his stare pressing down on you, almost suffocating.

“Because it’s none of your business,” he said, his voice sharp, as though he’d spoken those words many times to keep others at bay.

You weren’t satisfied. Something in you itched to know more, to unravel the mystery behind his detached behavior. “I don’t buy that,” you said, your voice rising ever so slightly. “Everyone has a reason. What’s yours ? Why do you act like this ?”

“I just hate people.” Another one of his dry and sassy replies.

“How’s your hand ?” you asked, a slight concern in your tone as as your eyes flickered to his hand.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he replied slightly taken about by how you know about it but soon his voice went flat again. He rubbed the scared spot which seemed fine now but nervousness was evident in his body language as you mentioned his hands.

You caught it, the way his hand had trembled ever so slightly. His composure slipped, just for a moment, and that was enough to make you press harder.

“You don’t look fine,” you said, stepping closer, eyes narrowing at the sight of the cloth wrapped around his hand, a different spot from the scar though. “What’s going on with your hands, Mingi ?”

His jaw clenched tightly at your question, and for a split second, the room seemed to hold its breath. The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words, and then he stepped closer, blocking your view of his hand entirely.

“Please leave, Princess.” he warned, his voice low, dangerous.

But you didn’t listen. You stepped forward, your curiosity ignoring the obvious warning. “You’ve been hiding it, haven’t you? Your hands, what’s wrong with them ? I am studying medicine, maybe I can help.”

His eyes darkened, the usual calm of his demeanor replaced with a cold, calculating glare as his tone went a notch up. “I told you to leave. No one can help. So let me do my work.”

Hmm…what does he mean by “No one can help” ?

His words hit like a slap, but you didn’t back down. Instead, you watched as the muscles in his neck tightened, his posture stiffening. You couldn’t quite place it, but something was eating at him, something far deeper than just the isolation he had wrapped around himself.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on ? Maybe I can help, you know I can talk to my father if someone is bothering you.” you said, your voice steady now, defying the uneasy feeling that crept through you as you refered to the higher up you had seen him with in the mroning.

The tension in the room grew unbearable, and with a sudden, violent motion, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him. His grip was so tight it nearly crushed you as you both stood chest to chest, pressing as your heart skipped a beat. His eyes were wild now, filled with a fury you hadn’t expected.

“You should’ve left when I told you,” he growled, his voice low, deep, and raspy. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the heat of his anger, but you weren’t afraid. No, something darker stirred within you, something drawn to the rawness in his eyes, the power in his grip. It was a strange, almost magnetic force, something you hadn’t felt before.

You barely had time to register the position you both were in when something cold touched your skin, a knife against your throat, the cold steel barely grazing your skin.

“Don’t test me, Princess,” Mingi said, his voice almost a whisper, but it sent a shiver down your spine. “I won’t hesitate.”

The shock of the moment hit you harder than you expected as you stood there frozen, eyes locked onto his, the world around you fading, and it wasn’t just fear that kept you in place,it was something else.

Something thrilling. A craving, maybe. To be handled like this, with power, with rawness….with anger which was a stark contrast to how you were oh so gently taken care of by everyone around you.

“You’re playing with fire,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you stared at the knife. “Do it. I’m not afraid.”You challenged him wanting to see how far he is going to go.

But for a long, tense moment, Mingi didn’t move. His gaze never left yours, the silence in the room suffocating.

Giving him a smirk, you moved your neck slightly as the knife gave a small slit on your neck and blood spurted out, nothing dangerous enough to kill you but enough to make Mingi pull the knife away as his eyes widened at the crazy act you just pulled, his grip loosening on your wrist though the soft and concerning flicker of emotion that was in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you but he soon composed himself into the stoic and cold god he is.

“Leave,” he said, his voice cold again as he recovered from slight shock you just gave him.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t argue. You turned and walked out of the workshop, your heart racing in your chest, your mind swirling with the intensity of the moment. You had pushed him too far, and yet, you hadn’t felt more alive than you did right now. You fingers ran on your neck smearing the blood off. If your maids or anyone else see it, chaos would unfold which you not hoping to cause.

Walking towards your chambers, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Mingi’s silence than you had realized, a secret you were fully sure he was hiding the after witnessing the softness in his eyes, even for a brief moment, it was enough to pull you into his dark world.

What was he hiding ? Is anyone bothering him ? And why did the knife on my throat make my heart race… with thrill ? Did I like it, his anger, his rawness…why am I suddenly admiring such negative traits ?

—

After that night in Mingi’s chamber, you found yourself avoiding him. It wasn’t intentional, but your feelings were too tangled to face him. His dark aura, intense and commanding, had a magnetic pull. The way he handled you, in such raw and unflinching way was a stark contrast to the gentleness you were used to, leaving an impression you couldn’t shake.

Yeosang and Seonghwa tightened your schedule, leaving no room for wandering thoughts. Still, you noticed Mingi’s absence.

When you asked, Minister Hongjoong mentioned he’d gone home for urgent family matters. The news left an unexpected ache in your chest, but you pushed it aside, telling yourself it didn’t matter.

Yet, no matter how busy you kept yourself, thoughts of Mingi lingered. His raw presence had stirred something deep within you, something real but unsettling. It made you question everything you knew about your desires, even though you didn’t fully understand why.

So, you buried your feelings and focused on your studies, too afraid to confront them.

After a long day full of tasks, you found yourself in the library, hoping to find some peace among the books. Going near Mingi’s sculpting chamber would only make you think about him, and you weren’t ready for that yet. As you wandered through the shelves, trying to distract yourself, Hongjoong appeared, his footsteps soft but noticeable. He greeted you warmly, but his sharp eyes quickly caught the sadness in your expression.

"Is something troubling you Princess ?" he asked, his voice was gentle.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to share. Your thoughts were tangled, and you weren’t sure if it was wise to speak about what had been bothering you. You hadn’t fully understood it yourself, let alone said it aloud. Finally, you spoke carefully, leaving out the incident with the knife, unsure how to explain the confusion inside your head.

"It’s... Mingi," you said softly. "There’s something about him, the way he keeps his distance, his coldness... It’s not just how he acts. It feels like there’s more to it. I can’t shake the feeling that something happened to him, and I’m curious. What’s his story ?"

Hongjoong paused, thinking before speaking. "Mingi’s... been through a lot," he said carefully. "His family’s past is not something people talk about. But it’s shaped him. It’s a heavy burden he doesn’t show."

You nodded, trying to take it in. Hongjoong’s gaze softened, but he didn’t say more. You understood—he wasn’t going to share everything, at least not yet. Some things were better left unsaid until the right time.

Then, Seonghwa entered quietly, sensing the mood. He smiled softly, his eyes full of understanding as he spoke. "I see you’ve been thinking about Mingi a lot," he said. "What’s got you so curious ? You’ve never seemed interested before."

You faltered, not sure how to explain. Why had you suddenly been so affected by him ? You didn’t even understand it yourself. The more you thought about Mingi, the more unsettled you felt.

"I... don’t know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just feel like there’s something beneath all that coldness. Something that makes sense, but I can’t figure it out. I... I just want to understand him better. Just out of curiosity. You know how I am with that, Master Seonghwa.”

As you spoke, you felt a strange warmth in your chest, something you couldn’t quite place. You didn’t want to admit it, but a part of you was becoming more drawn to him, even though you weren’t sure why.

Was it pity ? Curiosity ? Or something deeper you weren’t ready to face ?

Seonghwa simply nodded as he was fully aware of how engrossed you become when you get curious about something but his gaze stayed on you, full of quiet understanding, and Hongjoong didn’t press further.

For now, they accepted your answer.

But as the conversation ended, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Mingi wasn’t just a distant figure anymore. He had somehow crept under your skin, leaving you more curious and maybe more invested than you wanted to admit.

—

Next morning, after breakfast, you went to find your brother, Minho, who was busy sorting through a stack of papers in the royal study. He glanced up when you entered, his brow furrowing slightly. Even before you spoke, you could tell he wasn’t going to like what you were about to ask.

“Minho,” you started, trying to sound casual, “I was hoping I could get your permission to visit Mingi’s sculpting chamber today.”

He looked up fully, his expression wary. “Mingi?” he repeated, his tone skeptical. “What for?”

You hesitated briefly, then gave your prepared excuse. “There’s a figurine Mother received from Mingi’s father. It’s cracked, and it’s very delicate. I was hoping he could repair it. His skills are unmatched—I don’t think anyone else could do it properly.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You’re asking to go alone, to Mingi, of all people?” His tone was light, but there was something sharp underneath it.

You smiled, trying to appear unfazed. “Yes, it’s nothing to worry about. I just need to handle this. I’ll be careful.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes scanning your face. “Fine. But if anything happens—”

“I’ll be fine,” you said quickly. “Besides, you’re in charge of the kingdom right now with Chan and Father away. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

Minho paused, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he nodded reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll allow it. But be careful. Mingi is... unpredictable.” His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t push the issue.

With his reluctant permission, you left the room, a knot of anticipation tightening in your stomach.

__

The royal carriage rolled to a stop in front of Mingi's home, its wheels grinding against the gravel with a soft crunch. You stepped out, feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on you. The air around you was still, and the quiet seemed too loud, almost deafening in its silence.

"Wait here for me at the corner of the road," you told the carriage driver, your voice was more serious than usual. "It might take a while."

The driver nodded, his face unreadable, and the carriage slowly rolled away, leaving you standing infront of of Mingi's property. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, and made your way towards the door.

The door creaked open, revealing Mingi, his tall, broad frame filling the doorway. His dark eyes locked on you, their gaze sharp and assessing, but he said nothing at first. Behind him, the room was a befitting image of organisational chaos with sculpting tools scattered across a workbench, shards of marble dusted over the floor, and half-finished sculptures looming in various stages of creation.

“You came about the figurine,” Mingi said at last, his deep voice steady and calm.

Before visiting, you had sent him a letter, letting him know of your arrival. You waited for a few hours, expecting a refusal, but no reply ever came. That silence was all the answer you needed, and so you set out for his home.

“Yes,” you replied, holding out the small sculpture. It was a fragile piece, an intricate bird with its wings outstretched. “It’s my mother’s favorite. She would be heartbroken if it couldn’t be restored.”

Mingi stepped aside to let you in, his expression softening just slightly as he took the figurine from your hands. He turned it over carefully, his long fingers brushing along the cracked base and the damaged wing.

“It can be fixed,” he murmured, setting it down on the workbench. “The damage isn’t beyond repair, but it’ll take precision.”

You watched as he began gathering tools, his movements were methodical while his focus was intense. For the first time, he wasn’t keeping you at arm’s length. His quiet acknowledgment of your presence, of your request felt like a crack in the wall he had carefully built around himself.

“You’re truly gifted,” you said, your voice was barely above a whisper.

Mingi paused for a second, his fingers hovering over the delicate tools. “It’s not a gift,” he replied, his tone was thoughtful and gentle. “Just years of practice. Anyone could do it.”

“I doubt that,” you countered softly, catching a flicker of something in his expression — pride, perhaps, or even gratitude.

The moment was short-lived though.

Mingi’s shoulders tensed as his gaze snapped to the window. Following his line of sight, you spotted a figure striding toward the house with purpose. The official.The same one you had seen Mingi with in the banquet and during your chess match with Minister Hongjoong.

Mingi cursed under his breath, turning back to you with urgency in his eyes. “Hide. Now.”

“What ? Why ?”

“No time for questions.” His tone left no room for argument as he grabbed your arm and pulled you toward a door at the far end of the room. He opened it quickly, shoving you inside before shutting it firmly behind you.

You stumbled slightly, steadying yourself on the wall, and froze as you looked around.

The room was dimly lit, shadows flickering over walls lined with tools. Whips hung neatly alongside polished canes, their leather and wood gleaming faintly. Paddles of various shapes rested in perfect order, while chains with cuffs dangled from iron hooks. A dark wooden cross stood against one wall, its straps and buckles leaving no doubt about its use. Nearby, a leather bench with worn restraints sat waiting. The air was thick with the scent of leather, and the space exuded power and intimacy, every detail carefully curated for impact. A shiver ran down your spine as you took it all in.

Is this what he is really into ? Your cheeks flustered at the thought of those stuff used upon you by him. You shook your head as the sound of raised voices outside the door pulled you back.

“Mingi,” the official’s sharp tone cut through the air, “you’ve had more than enough time to reconsider.”

“I’ve already told you,” Mingi growled, his voice low and hard, “I won’t do it.”

“You’re being reckless,” the official shot back, his words cold and deliberate. “This isn’t just about you. Do you really think you can defy the royal court without consequences?”

“I won’t harm them!” Mingi’s voice rose, frustration and anger breaking through. “Whatever you’re planning, leave me out of it.”

“You don’t get it,” the official said, his tone dark. “Your creations aren’t just art—they’re tools. Tools that can change the balance of power. Think carefully, Mingi. The clock is ticking, and this choice is yours.”

A loud crash broke the tense silence as something heavy hit the floor.

“Get out,” Mingi snarled. “Now.”

“Very well,” the official said, his tone icy. “But don’t think your refusal absolves you. You’ll regret this defiance.”

The door slammed, and the sound of retreating footsteps echoed down the path.

Inside the room, your heart raced as you tried to make sense of what you had overheard. The tension outside had disappeared, replaced by an eerie silence. Slowly, you reached for the door, ready to face whatever awaited on the other side.

You didn’t have to open it. The door swung open abruptly, and Mingi stood there, his tall frame blocking the light behind him. He slammed the door shut after stepping in, the sound reverberating through the room. His chest rose and fell as if he’d just run a great distance, and his hand gripped the door handle tightly, knuckles white.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His eyes swept across the room, and then it hit him as he realized where he’d pushed you in his rush to hide you.

His face twisted, half-apology, half-irritation. “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, the sharp edge of anger not fully gone from his voice.

Your eyes wandered over the assortment of tools neatly arranged on the walls, your cheeks flushing with heat.

“This… this is where you work?” you stammered, though it was clear the room held more than just the tools of his craft.

Mingi didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he brushed past you, grabbing a whip from the wall. The action was quick, and a slash went across his body, startling you. He maintained a safe distance from you as another lash traveled across his skin, pushing the delicate figurines in the room as the whip met them.

Was he punishing himself with the whip...why ?

“I’ll send the figurine back so you can leave now, Princess Y/n,” he muttered, his tone cold. He turned to face you, his eyes blazing with frustration. “I’ve had enough people meddling in my life today.”

His words stung, but you stood your ground. “I couldn’t just leave… not after hearing what he said,” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “What’s really going on, Mingi? What does he want from you?”

Mingi let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and mirthless. He lashed the whip against a nearby wooden block, the crack echoing through the room. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said bitterly, his back still turned to you. “None of you royal types ever do. You think I’m just your sculptor, a tool for your games.”

His words hit harder than the whip’s crack, but you refused to let them shake you. “That’s not true,” you said firmly. “I’m here because I care, Mingi. I overheard enough to know that whatever that official is plotting is dangerous. You don’t have to face this alone.”

Mingi turned sharply, his eyes narrowing as if searching for something in your expression. “Care ?” he scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh. Care doesn’t mean anything when you’re part of the system that’s made me this way.”

Your throat tightened, but you refused to look away. “You’re right. I don’t understand everything,” you admitted, taking a cautious step closer. “But I want to. If there’s even the slightest chance I can help, I’ll take it. Let me prove I’m not like him.”

Mingi stayed silent for a while, trying to say something but holding back. Only his grip on the whip tightened, and you took that as a chance to press on further.

“Instead of breaking those delicate figures and hurting yourself…” you paused, gently placing his hand, which held the whip, onto your shoulder. “Use it on me. Let my unbreaking resolve be the proof to you that I am here to help and not take advantage of you.” You took a deep breath, trying to make sense of the words that had just left your mouth. You were literally asking him to use you.

Why had you offered yourself? You had no idea.

One thing was clear in your mind: you wanted to help him, and maybe… a small part of your heart wanted to experience the rush again—the same feeling you’d had that night when Mingi had a knife at your throat.

But this scavenger hunt was going to be more painful. A hell of a lot more painful.

Mingi’s hand tensed, his grip on the whip faltering as his eyes locked onto yours. His anger, once fiery, flickered with confusion. "You don’t know what you’re saying," he muttered, his voice rough and shaky. "This isn’t something you can just offer. It’s not a game."

"I know it’s not," you replied firmly, heart pounding as you met his gaze. "I heard what that man said. Whatever this is, I can see it’s tearing you apart. If I can help—"

"Help?" he interrupted, a dry, bitter laugh escaping him. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "You think letting me take it out on you will help? It won’t fix anything. You don’t understand the weight of this, Y/N."

"Then help me understand," you said, stepping closer, refusing to back down. "You’re not just hurting yourself—you’re drowning. If you can’t trust me yet, fine. But don’t shut me out."

His fingers tightened around the whip, his jaw clenched as he fought the turmoil inside. The battle in his eyes was clear—anger, pride, and something softer, more vulnerable, that he was trying to bury.

He studied you for a long moment, searching your face. "You don’t know what you’re asking," he said, voice strained, the whip falling limp in his hand.

"Then show me," you whispered, voice trembling but determined. "Let me carry some of this with you."

Mingi exhaled sharply, his hand running through his hair. "You’ll regret this," he muttered, but his grip on the whip tightened, as if he’d already made his decision. "This isn’t something you can just endure."

"I’m not here to prove a point," you said, steady despite the storm inside you. "I’m here because I believe you’re worth helping, no matter what."

He opened his mouth to argue but stopped. Instead, he walked to the wall, setting down the whip and picking up a leather strap. He turned it over in his hands, his shoulders stiff with hesitation. "This is different," he warned. "You’ll stop if it’s too much. Tell me if you can’t take it."

"I will," you nodded, meeting his gaze.

He motioned for you to step forward. "Place your hands on the table. And remember... you can always say no."

The first strike hit your back, sharp and stinging. A gasp escaped your lips as the pain jolted through you, but it wasn’t unbearable. It was different, almost… inviting. Your grip tightened on the table, but you didn’t move. The sting was real, but there was something else, a rush that followed it, spreading heat through your body.

Mingi stopped, watching you with eyes that seemed to search for something. “Still willing?” he asked, his voice softer now, like the anger inside him was starting to fade.

You met his gaze and nodded. “I’m still here.”

He swallowed, conflicted. He raised the strap again, this time hitting harder. The pain cut deeper, but with it came a strange warmth that spread across your skin. The sting lingered, but instead of pulling away, you leaned into it. You could feel your body reacting, the mix of pain and heat building something inside you that you couldn’t ignore.

With each strike, Mingi’s face softened. The anger was slowly replaced with something else—something that made the pain feel like a release, both for him and for you. Every blow became more than just pain; it became a way to let go, to release tension in a way that felt almost necessary.

The strikes kept coming, steady and rhythmic. The sharp sting gave way to a deeper warmth that filled your back, spreading through your body. Each blow was a wave, washing over you, making the pain and pleasure mix in a way that left you breathless.

Your breaths became uneven, not from pain but from the pull of the pleasure that followed it. You were no longer just feeling the sting; you were feeling something deeper, something that made you crave the next strike. Mingi was no longer just focused on releasing his own anger; he was reading you, feeling you, paying attention to how your body responded.

After one particularly intense blow, his hand brushed your shoulder, lingering for a moment. “You’re shaking,” he said quietly, his voice soft.

“Not from fear,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the trembling inside. The pain was still there, but it didn’t matter. It was nothing compared to the warmth that spread through your body.

Finally, the strikes slowed, then stopped. The flogger slipped from his hands as he stepped closer. His touch hovered over your back for a moment before settling there, gentle and warm, a stark contrast to the heat still flooding your skin.

You closed your eyes and let yourself feel that softness, letting the pleasure linger in your body even as the pain began to fade.

"Why would you do this?" he asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper. His fingers traced over the marks he’d left on your skin, his touch soft, almost apologetic. "Why let me hurt you ?"

"Because you needed it," you answered, standing up to face him. "And maybe... maybe I needed it too. To show you that you’re not alone, even if you think you are."

For a moment, his jaw tightened, and you saw the struggle in his eyes, like he was ready to pull away again. But instead, he stepped closer, gently cupping your face. His thumb brushed your cheek as he looked at you, as if searching for something he wasn’t sure he could find.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, like he didn’t want to let go. The kiss that followed was slow, soft, a very short kiss but full of emotions. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. His voice was quiet as he said, "You’re maddening. You make me want to trust again, even when I don’t feel like I deserve it."

You smiled softly, your hands over his. "Then trust me. One step at a time."

In that moment, you could feel his walls starting to break down, just a little.

The air between you was heavy with tension, each heartbeat feeling like time slowed. Something inside him was changing. Maybe he was starting to trust again after all these years of being alone. Maybe it was care or....love.

His fingers shook slightly as they touched your bruises, slow and careful, like he wasn’t sure you’d pull away. But you didn’t. When his fingers grazed the welts on your skin, you didn’t flinch. It wasn’t the pain you felt—it was something deeper, something real. His touch was gentle, and it made you feel like maybe everything was going to be okay.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, like the words were difficult to say but necessary all the same.

You swallowed, your body humming from the aftermath of what had just happened. It wasn’t pain anymore, it was something else. You couldn’t find the words, but your body knew what it was, a quiet yearning, a need to be close, to lean into the warmth of his touch. His hands moved slowly, tracing the scars along your back, each movement light but filled with purpose.

"Does it hurt ?" he asked quietly, his voice full of concern. There was no judgment in his words, only care.

“No,” you breathed, shaking your head. "It’s... it’s different. It’s not just pain. It’s…” You couldn’t quite explain, but somehow, in that moment, you didn’t need to.

His hands lowered, skimming over your sides, exploring with a kind of passion that made every nerve in your body come alive. Slowly, he began to undress you, his touch deliberate and slow, as if he was savoring each moment. He wasn’t in a hurry, wasn’t rushing to get to the end. His hands were soft, his movements careful, like he was afraid of breaking you.

When your gown finally slipped from your shoulders, his gaze dropped immediately to your back, to the marks still visible. The look in his eyes softened, and for a second, you wanted to hide, to cover the scars. But you didn’t. You let him see every part of you raw, vulnerable, but still here.

His hands moved to your arms, slowly trailing up, each touch deliberate, each movement meaningful. When his thumbs brushed over your collarbone, you gasped, feeling the tender sensation of his touch against your skin.

“Are you sure, darling?” he whispered, his voice low and filled with care. It wasn’t doubt, but a need to be sure, to make sure you were okay with what was happening.

You answered by, reaching for him and pulling him closer.

Words weren’t needed anymore as a silent permission to go ahead was exchanged between the both of you.

His lips met yours again, kiss started slow as he now with your approval was ready to savour every bit, every taste of your slowly. It wasn’t just passion, it was something deeper. A connection that couldn’t be put into words. His hands moved back to your back, feeling the rise of each scar, each mark. He touched you like you were something fragile, but also something he couldn’t help but want to hold.

As his lips trailed down your neck, you couldn’t help but gasp at the feel of his teeth grazing your skin. His breath was warm against you, his body pressing closer, the tension in the room thickening with every movement. His hands slid lower, gently caressing your body, every touch reminding you of his carefulness, his tenderness.

His hands slid under your waistband, pulling the fabric of your royal attire down with slow, deliberate movements, each tug filled with a quiet anticipation and care. It was a slow burn, building gradually, with no rush, no force.

When your clothes were finally gone, he stood before you, his eyes soft but heavy with a quiet hunger. His gaze moved over every inch of you, tracing the lines of your body with an intensity that left you breathless. There was no judgment, no shame in his eyes. Only reverence. Your naked form ignited a deep, smoldering passion within him, and he pulled you impossibly closer, until your bodies were tangled together, hearts racing in sync.

His lips found yours again, deeper this time, urgent, like he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hands roamed over your chest, fingers brushing against the soft curve of your breasts. He touched you with a mixture of gentleness and need, his palms warm against your skin as he cupped the fullness of your chest. His thumbs grazed over your nipples, a soft pressure that made you gasp, your body responding instinctively to his touch. His hands moved in slow circles, caressing, exploring, as if he was memorizing every part of you.

The sensation was overwhelming, a tender yet electrifying connection that made you feel both grounded and entirely lost in the moment.The warmth between you grew, but it wasn’t just physical. It was emotional, tender, an intimacy that seeped into your very bones.

His lips trailed down to the marks on your torso, each kiss placed with reverence, each one like a silent promise. You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation, your body responding to him in ways that left you breathless.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. It wasn’t possessive, but something deeper, more intimate. A declaration that felt like both a claim and an offering.

You replied, your voice steady but filled with warmth, “Mhmm...I’ll protect you, in every way possible. Always.”

The air felt alive between you, charged with something deep and unspoken. His hands slid down your sides, steadying you as he lifted you onto the edge of the workbench. The cool wood beneath you was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating between your bodies, and your breath hitched as his dark eyes locked with yours. They held something raw, something that made your pulse quicken with a mix of longing and love, as if you were the only thing that mattered.

Slowly, Mingi knelt before you, his hands firm on your thighs. The way you looked at him made his heart ache, as though you saw every part of him, the good and the broken, and still wanted more. His lips pressed soft, lingering kisses to your inner thighs, each touch sending a shiver through your body. He took his time, savoring the moment, letting the tension build until it was nearly unbearable.

His hands firmly gripped your thighs, pulling you open with the kind of deliberate care that sent a shiver up your spine. His eyes were locked on yours for a moment, dark and intense, before trailing down, his breath teasing your sensitive clit. It was almost unbearable, his warm exhale brushing against your slick heat, the tension coiling tightly inside you as he took his time, savoring every second of your vulnerability.

When his tongue finally flicked against your clit, your breath hitched sharply, a gasp spilling from your lips. The sensation was electric, sending a bolt of pleasure straight through you. He didn’t rush, he began with slow, teasing strokes, dragging his tongue over your most sensitive spot in lazy, deliberate circles. Each movement built on the last, the steady rhythm making your hips buck forward instinctively, craving more of his touch.

A low hum rumbled from his chest as he tightened his grip on your thighs, holding you firmly in place. The vibration of his voice against your clit made you moan, your head falling back as the tension in your core tightened further. He alternated between swirling his tongue around your clit and sucking it gently into his mouth, his pace maddeningly slow yet so precise it left you trembling. You tried to pull away for a moment, the sensation almost too much, but he wouldn’t let you.

Your thighs trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. And just as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, his mouth shifted, his tongue dipping lower, plunging deep into your core with a deliberate stroke that made your whole body jolt.

A broken cry tore from your throat as he fucked you with his tongue, slow and deep, each thrust of it drawing you closer to the breaking point. His nose brushed against your clit with every movement, adding another layer of stimulation that sent your nerves into overdrive.

Your body twisted under his touch, every nerve on fire, every gasp and moan spilling from your lips raw and unrestrained. He worked you with relentless precision, dragging you to the edge of release again and again, only to pull back just enough to let the tension simmer, teasing you mercilessly.

Each time you begged for more, your voice shaky and desperate, he only smirked against you, his tongue plunging back into your core, twisting and curling as if he were determined to make you fall apart completely.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging hard as your thighs clamped around his head. He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core and sending you spiraling. Your breath came in ragged gasps as the intensity built beyond what you thought you could handle, your body trembling violently as he pushed you closer to the brink.

But he didn’t stop there. His tongue moved faster now, his lips latching onto your clit once more, sucking harder in a way that made your vision blur. The overstimulation was dizzying, every touch too much and not enough all at once. You were utterly at his mercy, your body completely his to command.

When your release finally came, it was devastating. A scream ripped from your throat as your orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave, leaving you shaking and gasping for air. Your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t stop, his tongue and lips coaxing every last drop from you until tears pricked at your eyes from the sheer intensity.This was the first time someone has touched and handled your body this way.

“Breathe,little princess.” he murmured against you, his voice rough, and it took you a moment to realize you were still trembling, your body barely able to handle the aftershocks. He slowed his movements, soothing you with soft kisses against your clit and inner thighs, grounding you as you came back down from the high.

Weakly, you reached for him, pulling his hands to yours. You kissed his knuckles softly, your lips brushing over the roughness of his skin as your chest heaved. It was a quiet, desperate act, a thank-you and a plea all at once.

Mingi sat up slowly, his eyes locking with yours as he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. The look in his eyes was intense, filled with a quiet sadness that made your chest tighten. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft but heavy with emotion.

“I need to tell you something.”

His words, raw and hesitant, pulled you out of the lingering haze of warmth, dragging you into a harsh reality.

You met his gaze, worry flickering in your eyes. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening like the words hurt too much to say. But he forced them out anyway, his voice cracking slightly. “When this is done... the royal family—they’re going to take my hands.”

It felt like the air was knocked out of you. His confession hit you like a blow, the weight of it settling heavily in your chest. You stared at him, trying to process what he had just said, your heart racing in disbelief.

“Your... hands?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He nodded, his gaze falling to where your hands rested on his, your fingers entwined as if trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. “They said it’s the price I have to pay. Once I finish the sculpture of the empress and meet the emperor’s deadline... my hands will be cut off.”

Your heart ached for him, for the burden he carried. The weight of the looming deadline, knowing that the very thing he was creating—the sculpture of your mother—would lead to his punishment. His reward? The loss of his hands. Why did your kingdom have such a rule? And on top of that, there were officials within your own kingdom using his art to harm the royal family. Mingi, caught in the middle of a storm he couldn’t escape, made you pull him into your arms.

Tears welled in your eyes as the full weight of his words sank in. He was so calm, so resigned, yet beneath his stoic exterior, you could feel the raging storm. The man who had just held you with such care, worshipped you with tenderness, was willing to give up the very hands that had brought you to life only moments ago.

With everything you knew now, there was no going back. You were about to plunge into the heart of your kingdom’s darkest secrets, fully aware of the cost. But one thing was certain — you would either save him, or burn everything to the ground in the process.

And that is how our princess Y/n fell of the royal sculptor Song Mingi.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

Based on this post

The Proud Immortal Demon Way was a clusterfuck. Master Airplane was a fucking hack of an author who should never ever be allowed to write papapa. The characters were complete idiots, so blind and stupid and Shen Yuan suspected the close proximity to the abundance of aphrodisiacs was to be blamed for the lack of intelligence points. The plot was nonexistent, the fantastic flora and fauna was forgotten for more pointless papapa. However!

However…

Shen Yuan had to admit. The fanarts and fan merch did not do justice to the beauties residing in the universe.

That hack of an author could not write porn. But his characters really were peerless beauties. One would think if the beauty standards were this high that everyone was a peerless beauty, they should be considered as normal.

One would think it wrong. If he could, he would take back his comments on this specific topic; their beauties really were peerless.

One, like the blooming peach blossom, charming and deceptively sweet; another like the oak tree, tall and reliable; and another like the prettiest blue iris, knowledgeable and lovely. It was a disaster.

Back then it was only the blackened protagonist and his life sized body pillow that made him go through a sexuality crisis. As a shut-in, the people he met with never really made him feel warm under the collar, so being gay was only a theoretical experience for him, only having crushes on fictional people. Now, on the other hand, it was a completely different experience.

He couldn't even step outside of his bedroom without feeling like an emotional wreck. The minute he does that-

“This discipline made breakfast for Shizun!”

The radiant halo of the protagonist blinded him day after day; his precious white lotus is just the cutest and purest, fluffiest sheep ever. Shen Yuan can see the future Emperor in him, the husband of hundreds of pretty flowers, but he was still just his 17 years old discipline, so filial and full of wonder.

Ah, Binghe, such a good boy for this master…

“This master is thankful. Go along now, your shijie is waiting for you,” Shen Qingqiu waved his fan. His little white lotus pouted as if Shen Qingqiu would believe he wasn't excited to spend time with his future wife. He encouraged the two of them to spend time together, and he was certain that the sweet and touching young love bloomed under his careful watch. He was like a fairy godmother…

[-10 protagonist satisfaction points]

Shen Qingqiu sighed behind his open fan. Luo Binghe started to become a homebody, which, as a past homebody himself, knew was a slippery slope and even with all the lost points, he had to make sure his white sheep left the bamboo house. Staying home was great, but when you were the future Emperor of the Three Realms, defeater of countless monsters and husband of a triple digits harem, you just had to learn how to be open to new experiences. Sorry, Binghe…

“Yes, Shizun! This discipline will leave now.” Luo Binghe bows, and it takes everything not to touch and pat his fluffy head.

“Good. This master expects excellence from his disciples.”

“Yes, Shizun. This discipline understands and will do everything to exceed Shizun’s expectations.”

Such a filial discipline! Such a sweet white lotus! This one is truly a scum villain to do what he needs to do.

[Host is-]

I know I know! You don't have to remind me![(⁠ب⁠_⁠ب⁠)]

Shen Qingqiu sighed, hiding his shame and regret behind his mask. He really was just a scum villain.

With a conscious decision to not think about the future, he ate his breakfast instead, noting the protagonist’s amazing cooking powers. He would miss this after Luo Binghe gets married and starts to cook for his wives instead.

Maybe the guy he finds for himself will be good at cooking… nothing compared to the protagonist, of course, but nobody can be compared to him. That would be unfair for his potential partner.

However, even though he'd been Shen Qingqiu for three years, he hasn't yet found anybody for himself. He tried to flirt, he tried to see who might be gay other than him - statistically, there should be SOMEONE, right?! -, but no results.

The Sect Leader immediately brother-zoned Shen Qingqiu through his and the original good's past bond, which was quite unfair in Shen Yuan's opinion. Yue Qingyuan was a fine specimen of a man. Strong and reliable, just the kindest man Shen Qingqiu ever met. He was the perfect man, THE husband material. Yet, the original good has been so cold to him, cruelly causing his death, even though they were like brothers. Shen Yuan wouldn't have minded the Sect Leader as his husband; someone loyal and powerful, someone who could protect him from his blackened lotus. So unfair…

His Liu-shidi, the prettiest man alive, was so straight, only the protagonist was straighter than him. Shen Qingqiu was honestly sad for him; all the women in PiDW belonged to the Emperor. He was quite tempted to find a way to punch Airplane Shooting Towards Sky in his face for making Liu Qingge straight. Look. Shen Yuan was a weak, weak man; if Liu Qingge would show the slightest inclination to be at least bi-curious, he would be all over his shidi in a heartbeat. That man, honestly… it was no wonder the author killed him before the plot. Liu Qingge was typically the Second Male Lead, who was the boyfriend of all readers. (He definitely would have been Shen Yuan's fictional boyfriend, that's for sure. Maybe if he would have stayed alive in the novel, Shen Yuan wouldn't have minded the lack of plot that much. Liu Qingge would have definitely made the whole thing a thousand times better just by being alive. Like he did it now. The best times of the week were when his shidi visited him to spar or to cleanse his meridians.)

Shen Qingqiu had high hopes for Mu Qingfang. The doctor was quite queer in the sense of being weird. He hoped he was queer as in gay as well. However, the only time Shen Qingqiu tried to flirt with him, resulted in a two day stay at Cang Qiong mountain under constant supervision. That was a quite humiliating result, if he could say so.

Shen Qingqiu bit back a groan. No matter; that was just the peak lords he kept close contact with. He had the whole universe to find that one (1) gay person who would be happy to spend that depressingly short amount of time with him until he was still alive. He might have only five years to live, before he would become a human stick, but he would NOT die as a virgin disaster gay. He would remain a disaster gay forever, but he would lose his virginity before his death, damnit!

Now, volunteer, where are you?

Here they are

[darlingi-loveyou]

more percy jackson headcanons, as a treat:

- will’s bi awakening was one of three things: harry styles in one direction (and he had an ipod with almost exclusively taylor swift and 1d songs downloaded on it, this totally isn’t me projecting), the baseball scene from twilight, or rodrick in diary of a wimpy kid (my boy has a type)

- inspired by the one at my school, the aphrodite cabin has a gender-affirming closet where campers can donate their clothes and trans campers can get new clothes for free

- will convinced chiron to give nico two hours of exemption from camp activities. the goal was for him to take a nap, but nico usually ends up tailing will around the infirmary or playing with/sorting his mythomagic cards on the floor of his cabin. will has long since given up trying to get nico to cooperate

- dionysus always knows which campers are queer, sometimes years before they come out. he was literally counting down the days until nico told him that he asked will to be his boyfriend

- percy has a list of every fact that annabeth has ever told him about architecture or historical monuments because he wants to memorize them all

- percy and thalia go thrifting together sometimes

- despite living in the lotus hotel and casino for like 70 years and being a huge mythomagic nerd, nico is notoriously terrible at card games no matter how many times dionysus tries to teach him. the only reason dionysus still plays with him is because he knows he’ll win, and chiron is unfortunately getting better at pinochle

- he’s scary good at most video and arcade games though. percy tried playing mario kart with him when he was home for christmas break. nico’s no longer allowed to play any video games at the jackson-blofis household for the sake of percy’s ego

- percy raised his dorm room bed and immediately had to lower it the next day because he fell out of it in the middle of the night. he’s never told annabeth because he’s too embarrassed

- the hunters of artemis have an entire horde of stray dogs that follow them around because reyna keeps adopting them

- bianca had a spice girls cd and an abba cd and would play them until they were too scratched up to keep playing. nico hated it. they’re still not really his taste in music, but he listens to them every now and then when he really misses her

- percy is neither an early bird nor a night owl. when he doesn’t have school or camp he doesn’t get up until ten, and he’s literally never seen the ball drop on new year’s eve

- the jackson-blofis family are the only mortals—besides rachel of course—allowed at camp. sally and paul always leave estelle with a babysitter (tyson) when the visit though, because they want to protect her from the mythological world as much as possible

- percy can’t carry a tune to save his life, but he’s started teaching himself guitar, and practices in the apollo cabin

- annabeth’s favorite snack is annie’s cheddar bunnies and she has a soft spot for country music

- piper and leo have matching friendship bracelets. they also have three-way ones with percy because he half-jokingly said he felt left out

- will smokes weed with drew on his (very rare) breaks from the infirmary because it helps his anxiety. they get it from the dionysus cabin and like to do it on the big house porch, but only when will’s sure nico isn’t over there because he doesn’t like the smell

- ganymede sneaks out in the middle of the night to visit percy while he’s at college, but when sally answers the door of their apartment instead, she invites him inside and the two of them talk over blue chocolate chip cookies until the sun rises and he has to return to olympus before zeus finds him missing. turns out the two of them (sadly) have a lot in common

pt. 1

[muzansfangs]

nsfw alphabet with byakuya?? 😭

Nsfw alphabet – Byakuya Kuchiki (letters d, e, f, k, l).

Starring: Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader;

Format: headcanons;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, language, mirror sex, creampies, hair pulling, dom!byakuya, sub!reader, praise kink, possessive tendencies, implied size kink, married couple, oral sex (f!receiving);

Plot: Some nsfw head canons about Byakuya Kuchiki based on some letters of the alphabet.

Author note: Hello there! As I have already had the occasion to tell you in another ‘alphabet request’, I am not a huge fan of this format. In the future, I may decide to write the missing letters, but as for now enjoy the ones I have picked! I am sorry if this is not your cup of tea, but alphabets sometimes get repetitive and it is not exactly a turn on for me to write.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs).

Byakuya enjoys spurting his seed into you from behind, watching the way the creamy substance leaks out of your core and connects to the sheets. It is primal and extremely possessive, he admits it, however it leaves him the masculine satisfaction of knowing the cum dribbling out of you belongs to him. This does not mean he is into objectification. On the contrary, he deems it as a gesture to showcase his dedication to satisfy you like a dutiful husband should.

If he does not finish into you, he likes to do it over the small of your back and watch the way the seed runs down the swell of you ass before dripping in between your thighs and the futon.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Byakuya is extremely reserved, but everyone knows he has been married. He knows the feminine needs of a woman and has had his chance to practice the best ways to quench that thirst. Making love becomes a duty, but also a unique experience. Albeit he may give off the vibes of cold, detached man, he truly likes showing you his lustful side.

Byakuya has never left you dissatisfied, nor has he ever failed in surprising you by introducing small new practices in special occasions. Nothing is dull, or static. The Captain is not the type to brag about his skills with other men, but he is surely proud to know he has made you whimper out for hours before falling asleep last night.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying).

Byakuya likes to experiences new way to make love to you. Still, if he was forced to pick only two positions to replicate for the rest of his life, he would surely go with missionary and lotus position.

The urge to embrace you, to lock your eyes in a rather intense eye-contact is the main reason behind his choices: Byakuya wants, or better he needs, to instill the concept that you are loved in your mind. The Captain loves watching you cry out his name over his lips, while his mouth chases yours. It does not matter if he is fucking you by being on top, or if you have your legs crossed behind his back in a sitting position whilst his hips snap upwards in deep and vigorous thrusts: he yearns to see you scrunch your face up, brows furrowed, while your inner walls squeeze him up. This is what matters to him.

Also, he may or may not draw pleasure in watching your mounds bounce before his blue eyes.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Everyone has a kink and Byakuya Kuchiki is no one to deny he does not have some himself.

On the top of them, this man will let you know he likes mirror sex. As already mentioned, he likes directing his full attention on studying your face whilst fucking you. Yet, he does not disdain to peek at your reflections in the mirror to assess the way your whole body his affected by his actions, or how much larger than you he is.

Secondly, the head of the Kuchiki clan has a thing for hair pulling. A wild card is that he does not pull yours, unless you explicitly tell him to tug on them. He loves the way his scalp stings instead, when you tug on his luscious hair, while he goes down on you. Do it and he might spill his own cum all over himself.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Strictly, in the privacy of his manor. Byakuya would never let anyone interrupt your moments of tender intimacy. If he could, he would even dismiss his servants from the residence but, unfortunately, he can’t. All he wants is for you to enjoy the moment and not worry about any possible set of prying eyes suddenly landing on your forms. In your shared bedroom, bare, only for him to lavish, you can forget about the rest of the world and concentrate solely on him and the way he unravels you effortlessly.

Another reason causing him to restrain himself from indulging in sex anywhere besides the Kuchiki Estate is his position as the head of the noble clan. It would be unbecoming of him to stain his ancestors’ reputation by acting like a stupid lout. Pride and manners above carnal urges. This is a mantra he repeats to himself often, since he met you.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Here we are with another Kuchiki work. I am enjoying exploring this character a little more… Unfortunately, though, I could only dedicate little time to him. Let’s hope more inspiration strikes me so that I can serve you some more Byakuya in the near future. Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Luce!

[dreamerwitches]

Full wnk trailer analysis lets go (p1)

Homura with wavy hair fronts. Matches the one from the poster

I dunno about you, but her face looks kinda younger from the side? Cuter? I dont think we've seen anyone else from the side so maybe its just the artstyle and im being silly

The background is pretty hard to decipher

She has a ring but no visible stone or fingernail marking. It doesnt seem like the end of her main hair is wavy. It looks like she's missing the buttons on her front but this may be an animation error or the angle is hiding them

This bit makes me think she's falling down a spiral staircase? Though it doesnt resemble the one later. The gold bits look like banisters. The background gives me a stained glass window church feel

Madoka's home maybe? This is still wavy hair homura

Madoka has no ring

Not much to say. Text in the bottom right says mramasa but the rest is japanese and some numbers. Looks like maybe the power of the fan?

Ibari, number one. Yes its her, the lighting is just pink/red, you can tell cause her blue skin is more purple. To me, it looks like someone is holding her. The light peach parts on the bottom left and right look like the regular animation style. The flowers on the magnifying glass look a little like mami's

Dumb venus maybe? That compact wouldnt close if it had that pearl sticking out XD

I believe this is a homura we havent seen before. The ribbon doesnt match the poster homu from the right. Its brown, her uniform has a white under shirt. Ive seen people theorise this is Manuke, stupidity. The brown ribbon would match her hair colour. Her eyes are more purple than the pink of the previous homura. The colour also matches phone homu from the first trailer.

Ive seen people mention the fencing vaguely looks like oktavia's scales. I think the multiple parts remind me more of her tail. The windows at the very edges kinda remind me of the first scene.

I didnt realise at first but this is homura's wing being broken

Devil outfit has changed. She has a red streak in her hair. Her feathers look fluffier but it might just be the art style. Another red addition to her leg. Her right shoe looks like madoka's. Actually her gloves kinda look like madoka's too

With the city(?) below and the unmoving effects, is this happening during a time stop? Im getting the feeling this trailer (or movie?) has a brown/orange-ish glow to it so maybe they artistically changed the colour of time stop?

With the bright bg and chair colour, i think madoka is with mami (seen later) in this scene. Also i think thats her left hand, no fingernail marking

Rebellion cafe real, it even has the steps leading up to it (though its not 100% perfect... but eh, artistic licence...)

Also, the girl's teacup is cracked. I cant remember the name but it looks like that japanese art of repairing something broken but making the repairs beautiful (repaired witch???).

A stretch, but the napkin underneath reminds me of homu's handkerchief

I thought the lack of soul gem in the ring was an animation mistake but maybe not??? And a dark (could just be obscured by the cup) fingernail marking. It looks like the london underground symbol ToT

Ah the walls dont really match with the rebellion cafe... maybe this is just what cafes look like in madoka XD the single table is still a mirror to it though. I think the lotus flowers are telling.

I wonder if the girl's golden eyes (like godoka's) mean something because magical girls colours usually match dont they? But maybe they've stopped doing that, eh. I like how her glasses are the opposite to homura's, rim on the top.

I didnt realise the thing next to her is a purse, its huge ToT it has flowers on it. I saw someone call them roses to try and say this is gertrud... um no XD have you ever seen a rose???

A stretch but the crockery reminds me of Candeloro's

Its the same three colours

Nagisa has brown scrunchies and her hair is in two low bunches with dark red beads. It looks like her dress is different too

She has the mitakihara uniform and a yellow cardigan. You can see her soul gem ring. The yellow of the cardi and the brown hairbands make me hope it is bear girl......

Girl full of slinkies!!!! The dots around the place remind me of homura's corruption from rebellion (ala on the bus). This is bandaged sayaka

These make me think of candeloro's kiss. I think i can see flowers on the spine too

But the hands together on the middle of the spine is from madoka's rebellion transformation

Walpurgis?

Yes im sure this is the same cafe as madoka was in now. Very pretty

Mami has her hair clip from her magical girl form on the top left of her head. Also could be animation error but maybe her ring is missing the gem

ALSO ARE YOU JUST EATING A SUGAR CUBE MAMI????

Is this the same place from the dancing scene? Doesnt one of the nightmares have an attack like this? So is homura doing it because she controlled the nightmares.

Also they explode with white feathers hmmmmmm. I have the horrible feeling homura would do it to scare madoka

Clearly not the previous kyoko. Outfit is different and more like her original one i'd say. The cake looks like its from the cafe

Also hnnngghhh concept movie?????

Damn ive hit image limit... well part 2 incoming

[wangxianficrecs]

Rewind 2024 - Follower Recs

WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2024

For our Rewind 2024, our dear followers were also able to submit Follower Recs of their favourite stories published in 2024 for you to enjoy! Thank you to everyone who shared their recs and make sure to give the authors some love!

~*~

Hey! Im submitting for the rewind 2024! Nominating because its the perfect mix of hilarious and heart-wrenching, theres sword lore AND blue haired Lan Wangji! Plus @hellinglaozu art! @mdzsrewind

🔒 Help!!! I’m a Broke College Student How Did I End Up With a (Hot) Amnesiac Sword Spirit For a Sugar Baby??!??

by spookykingdomstarlight

M, 43k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Ying is a normal first-year college student. He lives with his parents. He gets good grades. He has friends. Or a friend, at least. Everything is going well, at least until a stunning man in hanfu with white hair manifests right in front of his eyes on a field trip. Suddenly he’s stuck introducing a sword spirit to the modern world, dealing with a mystery involving metal shards appearing all over Jiangsu province, and grappling with the possibility that Siri from his old phone might be sentient. What’s a normal first-year college student supposed to do under these circumstances? He dives right in, of course. A collaboration with the amazing HellingLaozu!

~*~

This story is modern, sexy missing WWX times and proactive LWJ doing what he can to cope (robot). @petirrojo57

Starry Sky

by auberjing (@wrecklwj) & lamusadelils

E, 8k, Wangxian

Summary: In the absence of Wei Ying, Lan Zhan deals with his grief by trying to replicate him. It's not the same, but the replica brings him some comfort. And maybe more.

~*~

Just pick any Scrippio work, really, but modern actor WWX works! @petirrojo57

Falling for You

by Scrippio

T, 8k, Wangxian

Summary: In which Lan Zhan's new stunt double decides that they're BFFs...and Lan Zhan finds that he agrees. Or: Five movies Lan Zhan makes with Wei Ying and One he makes alone.

~*~

I'm sure many other people have recommended this story for the Rewind 2024 event but I'll throw my vote in too for this incredibly well-written, amazing take on how things could've gone if Lotus Pier didn't fall and Wei Ying realized he loved Lan Zhan earlier. It features genius Wei Ying, supportive Lan Qiren, learning-to-be-less-naive Lan Xichen, and lazy but talented Nie Huaisang. The world-building is gorgeous and the storytelling phenomenal. @doctorbunsenhoneydew

Dispersing Clouds

by dreamingofcake

E, 283k, Wangxian

Summary: While the Wen Clan is embroiled in subduing internal conflicts within Qishan, the Jiang Clan hosts the annual discussion conference. It has been one year since the disastrous archery competition where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji last met but Wei Wuxian remains as optimistic as ever. An unlikely friendship begins to blossom and without the looming spectres of conquest and war to strengthen his ties to the Jiang family, the trajectory of Wei Wuxian’s life changes.

~*~

A Qin Sue fic! I enjoyed this where she survives and lives in Lotus Pier. - Anon

now you’re tearing through the pages and the ink

by Stratisphyre

M, 70k, Jiang Cheng/Qin Su & Wangxian

Summary: “I can’t stay here. Please don’t make me!” The words dragged themselves out of Qin Su's chest, feral and half-bloodied by her grief and fear. “A-Cheng is leaving tomorrow,” Jiang Yanli said. “You could go with him.” Or, Qin Su in Lotus Pier.

~*~

This story is a fairly recent WIP. No first siege of bm, yilingwei sect, wei yuan, wwx takes in a bunch of street kids as disciples, some guidao cultivation world building, jzx and jyl live, wwx semi isolates in bm for 13yrs and founds a sect, sect politics - Anon

Our Beautiful Homes

by Randomness_is_my_order

M, WIP, 21k, Wangxian

Summary: I, Jin Guangyao, a senior disciple of the Lanling Jin Clan write to you regarding a matter of grave importance. Kindly pardon the abrupt correspondence but I hope the situation will warrant such measures and the offence incurred will be minimal.  Wei Wuxian’s day had really become so interesting, hadn’t it? The Lianfang-zun writing to him–this lowly practitioner of the heretic path? My, my, his life was always filled with surprises, wasn’t it?  Sometimes, it takes a hundred sacrifices and a dozen heroes to change fate. Other times, it takes a rock and a sentient corpse tripping on it mid-fight to avoid a lifetime of tragedies and send destiny into a tailspin. In which Wen Ning misses his attack, Jin Zixuan lives and Wei Wuxian builds a sect for all those who don’t have a home. It is only thirteen years later that the cultivation world bothers to acknowledge him and his people, and only when they’re desperate for a favour. Never let it be said that Wei Wuxian would allow himself to be used.

~*~

Really awesome fic for what if LWJ became sect leader after the Wen attack on Cloud Recesses. There are some really good wangxian moments and I really like how the fic showcases sect administration and how the sect works now with LWJ as the leader. - Anon

🔒 The Straightest Path

by meyari

T, 30k, Wangxian, Nielan, JYL/NMJ, Sangcheng

Summary: The moment of Xiongzhang’s death would live forever in Lan Zhan’s mind. He’d turned towards Lan Zhan, qiankun pouch holding the library in his hands. Then he’d gasped as arrows flew towards them both in a hail no one could survive.

~*~

I would like to rec this story. It is currently a WIP started this year and every update is amazing. There’s so many details and I love that Wangxian are dragons and that WWX gets all the love and support and he fights really well too. - Anon

With This Shadowed Blade

by Anonymous

M, 145k, WIP, Wangxixian, Nielan, Wangxian, Sangxian, Mingxian, Nielanxian, Wangsang, Xixian

Summary: Wei Ying needs to find his soulmates before the madness turns him into a horrific monster. There's just the slight problem of Madam Yu shipping him off to the stuffy Lans in a contract bonding. Oh, and she didn't tell them he's on the verge of losing it. So they just think that he's, well, there must be something wrong with him after all...

~*~

I would like to recommend this story, because it is so unique and vividly written, one of the best fics I have ever read. @aerouinde

🔒💙 Building it back, stone by stone and seal by seal

by KizuKatana (@kizukatana)

M, 134k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: It had been over 200 years since the war between cultivators left more than half the land ravaged and uninhabitable and the practice of cultivation punishable by death. Despite the risks of being caught as a practicing cultivator, Wei Wuxian took on the hunt of a dangerous yao that had destroyed a small village and killed all of the civilians. While searching for the demon, he encountered a mysterious cultivator dressed all in white. Wei Wuxian was excited to finally meet another cultivator, but instead of greeting him or making pretty much any conversation at all, the man attacked Wei Wuxian on sight. - - - - - - There is NO WAR in this fic. This takes place two centuries after the war happened, and it has a sort of post apocalyptic vibe. This is a story of rebuilding and finding safety. It's about found family and forming a new society away from the old one that persecuted them.

~*~

I want to recommend this story, because it was a very unique story with so much atmosphere, the settings were wonderful, and it was well paced. @aerouinde

grimoire

by WithLoweredVoices

M, 95k, Wangxian

Summary: ‘Alright, fine,’ huffs Wei Ying, blowing out his cheeks. He adjusts his grip on the smooth hilt of the sword, as cold as wet stone beneath his palm. ‘How do I give this back to you?’ ‘I must trade with you something of equal worth,’ says the strange man. ‘Uh. Okay.’ Wei Ying rubs his forehead with his free hand. ‘How about your name? Your real name.’ In case he needs to file a police report or stalk this beautiful, scary man on google or something. The man looks even more angry. He pulls his shoulders back and draws himself to his full height, which is rather impressive and forces Wei Ying to tip his chin up slightly. ‘My name is Lan Zhan,’ the man says. ~ (The one where it’s a dark academia AU - only it’s not.)

~*~

I want to recommend this story, because it was an immensely exciting story, one of the best Kaiju/Archon stories I have read. @aerouinde

Axiom –A Mo Dao Zu Shi Mecha AU

by Hinu (@imnotacleverman)

E, 331k, Wangxian

Summary: “I’ve always known it’s my destiny to be coupled with a cute girl and fall in love in the archon!” Wuxian winked at the nearest girl, who just so happened to be Mianmian, the prettiest girl in their class. Lan Wangji’s eye-roll was loud. “What?” Wuxian had noticed the boy’s reaction. “You never striked me as a romantic, Lan Wangji, but you know studies have shown that a notable percent of alters end up married, right?” “Oi!” Someone exclaimed. Everyone shot their eyes back on the screens, onto which text had appeared: Their coupling results. Everyone was too busy looking up their own name on the list to pay attention to the fact that the stickler-to-the-rules nephew of major general Lan Qiren had been coupled with Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji had been coupled with Wei Wuxian! *** In a world threatened by monsters, giant robots known as archons are piloted by "alters", a neuropsychologically coupled pair, to protect humanity. As Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji begin their piloting career as unlikely alters, they have to contend not only with the fame and idolization that comes with being a pilot, but also the conflicts that rise from within as their psyches are connected within the archon.

~*~

I want to recommend this story, it was a very exciting, clever and well paced story. @aerouinde

Chronicles of Sect Leader Wei Wuxian

by Muggle_Diary (@kshithi-and-stories)

E, 114k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian is ten years old when he joins the Jiang sect. Fed up with his treatment at Yunmeng Jiang, Wei Wuxian leaves the Jiang sect. Wei Wuxian is ambitious and wants to open a sect based on merits alone. Years later he stands at the top of cultivation world.

~*~

I want to recommend this story, because it is one of the best ballet fics I have read, loved it. @aerouinde

Ugly Duckling

by Witch_Nova221 (@witchnova221)

T, 57k, Wangxian

Part of the MDZS Big Bang 2024

Summary: When talented but untrained ballet dancer, Wei Ying, is offered a scholarship by Lan Huan at the prestigious Gusu Ballet Academy he knows he will have to work hard to prove himself especially to his stern teacher, Lan Qiren. At a school that values tradition, Wei Ying struggles to find his place, constantly criticised and compared to his talented classmate, Lan Zhan. Whilst negotiating the trials of training under Lan Qiren, Wei Ying struggles to remember why he loves to dance until costumier, Nie Huaisang, gifts him a very special pair of shoes that open up a whole new world of ballet.

~*~

(Please��REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – these stories.)

[mizzskelter]

"Did you hear about that girl who went missing for a month?" "The one from the orphanage?" "Yeah. I'm not even surprised. All the weirdos there disappear sooner or later."

List of songs below cut:

Destroyer (Saint Motel) | Color Your Night (Lotus Juice) | Sadie’s a Sadist + Matador (The Buttertones) | Bubbly + Atlas (Good Kid) | Therefore You and Me (si-o) [vocaloid] | girl in blue, every word, touch, Walk The Line (Animal Sun) [look I just really like this band] | Talk Too Much (COIN) | Fight for Me (Aliceband) | Veils (Moonfall) | Save Me (Saint Motel) | Rollercoaster (Sainte Blonde) | Odoriko (Vaundy) | I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE (Måneskin)

Suzerainty (Polite Fiction) | Curious (Ark Patrol) | Rhythm of Your Heart (Marianas Trench) | I Touch Myself (Bella & the Switchblades cover) | I Don’t Want You Anymore (Cherry Glazerr) | More (The Haunt) | Any angle (noa) | Girl Side A (Daoko) | Good-bye, Ms. Floral Thief cover (sana) [this and Girl Side A fit a lot of players imo (if you know you know)]

Sorry this little project of mine is taking so long. I tried my best to finish more covers while I was sick but my pile of wips from last week is looking no less scary.

[ur-nutt]

a memory of blossoms and blades

blade/yingxing x gn. reader // angst? angst!

warning: character death

The lake stretched before you, endless and shimmering, a mirror reflecting the sky’s tender blues and whites. The afternoon sun bathed everything in gold, casting gentle shadows of the lotus trees swaying nearby. You were perched on the grassy banks, hands idly skimming the cool surface of the water, while Yingxing lay sprawled beside you, the edges of his robes damp from your earlier antics.

“You’ve been staring at me for five minutes,” he said, not bothering to turn his head. “Careful, or I might start thinking you’re captivated.”

You scoffed. “It’s not my fault you’re too lazy to move. I’m debating whether I should push you into the lake.”

He finally glanced over, his azure eyes narrowing in mock challenge. “You wouldn’t dare.”

And you did.

The splash startled a flock of cranes nearby, their wings flapping as they disappeared into the endless sky. Yingxing surfaced a moment later, hair plastered to his face as he wiped water from his eyes. His glare was fierce but short-lived, melting into a crooked grin. “I’ll make you regret that.”

You were already laughing, taking a step back as he lunged toward you, his wet hands catching your wrist. “Yingxing!” you shrieked as he dragged you into the water with him, your laughter echoing across the lake.

The two of you wrestled in the shallows, your attempts to splash him thwarted by his quick reflexes. Finally, he caught both your wrists, his grip firm but gentle as he stilled your movements.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “there’s no one else I’d let throw me into a lake.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, what an honor.”

“I’m serious,” he continued, and for once, there was no teasing in his tone. “You make the world... quieter. Even when you’re loud.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden sincerity. The sunlight danced on his features, and for a moment, you swore the lake envied him.

“You’re terrible at this whole ‘being sweet’ thing,” you said, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

“Maybe,” he admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But only for you.”

The two of you collapsed onto the bank after that, soaking wet but breathless with laughter. He leaned over, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “If there’s a way to freeze time, I’d do it now,” he murmured.

“I’d keep us here, just like this.”

Somehow, the weight of his blade was heavier than the memories.

The cool metal kissed your throat, unmoving and absolute. His face—so familiar yet now so distant—betrayed nothing, his crimson eyes dull and lifeless.

You lying down, surrender, your weapon forgotten at your side. There was no point in fighting anymore. You knew it, and somehow, you felt he did too.

“Go on,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. “You’ve already taken everything else. What’s one more life to add to the pile?”

For a moment, his expression flickered—barely, like a shadow passing over the moon. Was it hesitation? Recognition? Or just your own desperate hope clawing at the edges of reality?

“Why don’t you finish it, Yingxing?” you whispered, and the name fell from your lips like a prayer.

His grip faltered.

The silence between you was deafening. You stared into his eyes, searching for any trace of the man who once chased you across sunlit fields, who once swore he’d freeze time just to keep you by his side.

It wasn’t there.

Or maybe it was. Just for a moment, fleeting as the last rays of sunlight on a dying day, you thought you saw it—the glint of a memory neither of you could bear to let go of.

“You’ve always been stubborn,” you said, a soft smile curling your lips. “Even now, you can’t decide whether to hate me or miss me.”

His jaw clenched, his hand trembling slightly as the blade pressed closer. You felt the sting, sharp and cold, but you didn’t flinch.

Instead, you closed your eyes, letting the memories wash over you. The laughter, the sunlight, the way he had looked at you as if you were his entire world.

“I’ll remember for both of us,” you murmured, your voice fading as the warmth drained from your body. “I’ll carry it all.”

You opened your eyes one last time, meeting his gaze. The tears there were silent, unacknowledged, but undeniable.

“Yingxing,” you said softly, your smile bittersweet. “You were always the sun. I was just lucky enough to orbit you.”

And as the darkness claimed you, you swore you saw it again—that flicker of a memory, brighter than the blade, softer than the past, lingering in the once azure depths of his eyes.

sleep schedules are all over the place, but i’ll deal with it later.

[heartilywrites]

Korra x female firebender reader pretty please 💗

It can start off as fluff and turn into smut AUGHAG <33

Obviously, the time is during s3-s4, reader writes numerous letters to Korra, yearning for her (but ofc they just act as very close friends through the letters) and then Korra comes back from the North Pole, but instead of disappearing to the swamp, she go sees reader instead. I think you and I both know where this is going 😻

THANK YOU HOPE THIS IS ENOUGH HAVE A LOVELY DAY <333

،، 𝓜ake it Better ; Korra

request guide | masterlist

resume: where Korra gives you a visit after three years of being away.

content warning: fluff and if you squint enough there's angst ; Korra x fem!reader ; r is a firebender ! ; ¡¡ MINORS DNI !! ; nsfw ; thigh riding ; fingering ; oral (r receiving) ; scissoring ; switch!korra n' r ; after care i think??? i mean, i believe it is some type of after care what i wrote- ; description of amber colored eyes for r ; no use of y/n

wc: 2.8k

a/n: this is my first smut in like,,, 8 months i think, be nice to me i cry easily /j. i didn’t really mention that r was a firebender that much, i got carried away- hope thats okay 🥺 ENJOY THANK U FOR REQUESTING :D

“ If I could figure it out, I'd take you back to my house so we could meddle about.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “𝓓earest Korra,

It's been a whole week since you left us, can you believe it? Things here are... not the same without you.

How have you been? I mean, it's been just seven days, but it's just weird, we haven't been this far since I met you. I hope you're doing okay, know that I will be writing you eventually! Everyone says hi, by the way, I'm sure you'll get a letter from them too, but just to let you know. Bolin is the most excited to receive a letter back, I've seen him practice his calligraphy, it's cute.

Write me back too when you have the chance! I would like to read about you.

Sincerely yours,”

Blue eyes read once, twice, even three times the letter with a weak smile on her face. Her fingers caressed your letter and streak your name.

Being back in the south by herself sure got the best out of her, she missed everyone, she missed you, but it was something she needed to do to get better. To be better and feel like she deserved you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Dearest,

Hey! I'm sorry for not responding back earlier, but it's been hard.

I've been good? I'm starting physiotherapy with Katara and it's something. Thank you for writing me, I can't tell you how much I miss you guys; Three weeks is a crazy amount of time to be away from you, hope you don't miss me much, blaze.

Can I ask you to do me a favor? Don't tell the others I wrote to you, I'm just now finding the correct words to write to you and I don’t want them to feel like I don’t appreciate them. I trust you, commander arson.

Yours always,

Korra.”

A little laugh left your mouth after reading the two nicknames the avatar had always used on you. Your heart skipped at the beginning, how she only wrote dearest without your name... That couldn't mean much, right? She was one of your best friends, even if your feelings for her were strong, your willpower to keep the relationship as it is was way stronger.

Your friends have talked to you about an opportunity were she may feel the same back and it was just a matter of talking it out, but then Zaheer targeted Korra again and all romance–talk went through out the window. It all sank after the result of the war between the red lotus and the whole team, the letter were all you had left of the girl and at that moment you wouldn't risk losing it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Dearest Korra,

I'm starting to think that maybe this new job is not for me... The people is boring and I'm running out of ideas to keep the fun atmosphere, maybe I should go and work with Asami, don't you think, breeze? My experience on dealing with disasters may be of help if she needs a test subject for the inventions, I'm good at dispersing fire with more fire!

I can't believe it's been a whole year since we last saw each other... How is the physiotherapy going? I hope is going great, don't be so hard on yourself, Korra, I know you. Healing usually takes time and it's okay to go on your own pace... I lo am sending all of my good energy your way, know that I am always here for you, in the good and the bad, please let me know if you need anything. Hopefully we'll see each other soon.

Sincerely yours,”

The night that Korra was reading again that specific letter from you was the same night were she hit rock bottom with her whole healing process. A couple of tears ran down her cheeks after the last paragraph, only the moon knew how much Korra missed and loved you and having you say such words to her knowing how at some point the girl may get burnout from trying was what made the avatar fall in love with you. You knew her to a point where only if she looked in the back on her brain she may find how you were right and that made her feel warm.

  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Dearest blaze,

Hey... I hope you didn't waited too long for me to write you back. I'm so sorry, it has been a really rough time for me and I didn’t feel like burdening you with my problems.

I did receive the last couple of letters you sent and I read them, I'm so grateful to have you with me. Thank you for not giving up on me just yet, you're the best.

Yours always,

Korra.”

Your hand was moving fast over the new sheet of paper while writing your thoughts on the last letter. How could she say she was a burden? You've make sure she never felt that way! Since meeting Korra you always worked on making the girl trust you with everything, you made your mission being her confident, the shoulder she looked for when she needed to cry and reading how she felt bad with herself made your heart burn with pain.

Even if by then two years have gone by, you felt like nothing has changed between the waterbender and you, hell! you could say that the bond was stronger than ever despite your heart's desire.

The letter just kept going and coming every now and then until at one point after six months over the three years, they stopped from Korra's side. You got worried, of course, but thought that maybe the white lotus was training her again to get her back in the game and that made her time very limited. Your mind found another way to keep occupied from those loud thoughts and you keep it that way.

Humming a melody made your throat vibrate and your index finger made a little little flame to lit up a scent candle and accommodate it on the table at your living room, you were getting ready to read a little bit when a knocking on your door made you stand up again.

When you opened your door, your eyes widened and you felt as if someone had hypnotized you. A short haired Korra was in front of you, wearing earth kingdom clothes and with an eye starting to swell, she smiled with a sad aura, but her eyes sparkled a little bit with excitement at finally seeing you again.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “My spirits, Korra... I'm– I– what happened to you?” you broke the silence, mumbling at the questions trying to come out your mouth all at once. You took her hand to get her inside your house, she just kept her eyes on you.

You were as beautiful as she remembered, dare to say even more than before. Your fire nation clothes hugging your body and that wonderful scent that characterizes you was what Korra had missed. She took a deep breath in to smell it again and was met with the familiar scent of your house as well, how she missed it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I needed to see you.” she spoke, her voice sounded deeper than it was, you felt a tiny electric current travel your spine. “I just... I couldn't be far from you anymore.”

A smile began to creep on your face and your arms were quick to hug the avatar, she swallowed a grunt at the sudden hit of your body on hers as she missed that and hugged you back. A small sob was heard.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I missed you so much, Korra.” you whispered sobbing again. “You have no idea.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I missed you too.” her hand went to your head where she left tiny caresses. “I'm so sorry for disappearing, I've been trying to feel like myself again.”

You distanced yourself from her and looked at her with concern. Your hand reached hers and were fast to guide her to sit at the couch so you could talk to the girl.

For the first time, Korra let out everything she had been feeling and thinking after so many years and you listened to her cautiously, stroking her hand with your thumb to make her feel safe and to convince you that she was there, that it wasn't another one of your dreams. When she finished she looked back up to you and you smiled at her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I can't even imagine how hard it is to you,” you said in a soft tone, your amber eyes looked down to both your and her hands. “You're so strong, Korra. Physically and mentally, you are the strongest person I know and I know you're capable of coming out of this. You will be okay,” your eyes went back to the blue ones. “You won't have to do it alone, darling, I'm here for you.”

The avatar softened her gaze at you, that was all she needed to hear at that moment. She felt fortunate to have you by her side even at the worst moments.

Her free hand made its way to your cheek were she left strokes just as you were doing with her hand, both colored eyes were fixated to each other with such devotion. Both bodies moved unconsciously to be closer together until the breath mixed, warm and hot meeting. Your mind was cloudy at such close distance, you were sure you hallucinated with her eyes twitching to your lips and were about to move and offer her coffee when her lips clashed on yours in such a unsynchronized way that it was almost funny, you pulled away for a moment surprised to the act.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Shit, listen, I–” she tried to explain herself before you interrupted her with another kiss.

This one was more harmonized than the first one, your hands had left hers and looked to rest on each side of her face, pulling her as close as the anatomy allowed you to be. At first instance, it was supposed to be a sweet kiss of reconciliation with your feelings, but a small moan had vibrated on your throat without your permission and Korra took it as an opportunity to deepen the gesture.

While her tongue was fighting with yours, both her hands moved to your hips and in a quick move she had put you on top of her while still attending your lips. When your lungs burned for air, her mouth was fast to make a trail from yours to your neck.

Your head was thrown back to give her more access, one of your hands tangled with the brown locks on her head. She stopped at a sensitive spot after hearing you sigh with such devotion, smiling a little bit malicious she decided to make a hickey by sucking the skin under her mouth making you do satisfied sounds that vibrated your vocal chords, after admiring her work that she knew would leave a dark mark, she tried to continue but was stopped with the fabric of your superior part, Korra distanced a bit to look at you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Can I?” was asked referring to the piece, you nodded a little bit and watch her hands take the belt off your waist and helped her to take off the whole fabric and letting it fall to the floor.

When her lips met your neck again, Korra breathe in your scent, delighted to how sweet you smelled. Your hips under her hands looked for more closeness by rocking a little bit to the front and that only action gave the girl an idea.

She pulled away again and made her hands guide your body to sit on only one of her legs, you followed without any complaint; Korra made you start grinding on her thigh, with tiny moans you were obedient to keep the action she did and when the girl raised her leg to apply pressure to your core making you let out a sigh of relief at how good it felt. Foreign lips went back to your skin, she was attending now your breast over your bra, making more hickeys on her way.

The calling of her name in a shaky voice made her look up to your amber eyes drowned in lust. “I need you, please.”

Her mouth took yours in a desperate kiss and was quick to stand up from the couch with you on her arms to make the well known way to your bedroom. Even if the avatar's body felt heavy by the constant fights she had before deciding to visit you, at that moment she didn’t feel exhausted, the hunger she had for you had substituted her tiredness.

With caution, your body was left on the mattress while the kiss continued. Korra made her way again to your breasts, taking off your last piece on the top her mouth attended your nipples making you moan at the sensation of her tongue moving while her hands were undoing your pants. When she got them off, her left hand slipped under your underwear to your intimacy. Iced color eyes looked at you with a smile at the feeling of wetness between your thighs.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “All that for me?” she raised an eyebrow, you could feel your face burn and tried to look away, but Korra's free hand made you turn your gaze back at her without harm. “Eyes on me.”

Her middle finger was tracing on top of your intimacy, making you moan in complain, you were about to talk again when one of her digits slipped in you now allowing you to moan with pleasure. The way her pace was slow was driving you crazy, your hips moved over her hand like asking for more non-verbally and she pleased by adding a second finger, the way your walls clutched over her fingers made her giggled a little bit.

She continued her action for a couple more seconds watching your expressions and loving the sound of your moans for her before she completely removed her fingers from you gaining a grunt.

She was quick to remove completely your last piece of clothes and move over to be between your legs, your eyes followed her curious to see how she was going down on you and when her lips got your clitoris along with one of her fingers entering again in your core, a loud moan came out of you.

Raising your back from the mattress, one one your hands went to her hair tangling brown locks to your fingers, another finger interfered in you and her pace got faster. Your free hand reached to squeeze your own breast while you were being taken care off and when a knot on your abdomen started to form you tried to call for the girl to tell her but was only able to moan out her name in a scream followed by your orgasm.

Your eyes got heavy but you forced yourself to stay awake when the avatar stood back up with your juices on her chin and a little bit on her nose, you smiled pulling her on a kiss tasting yourself in the process.

Your hands tried to undress the girl in a clumsy way while trying to comeback on yourself so she did it herself. Korra didn’t know what you tried to do, but surely stripped to her underwear. Just as she did, you took of her bottom piece and now forced her to lay on the bed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What are you–” you put your finger over your own mouth on a silent expression.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Trust me.” you said hoarsely with a tired smile.

Your hands made her legs open for you to position yourself between them. Still sensitive after your first climax, you rubbed yourself against the southerner with such pleasure that you now were able to finally hear moans from her that made you smile. Korra was calling for your name between moans and heavy breaths she was giving, you folded over to kiss her and let the moans drown on both mouths. When picking a faster pace, both bodies started to feel the same knot on the lower area and after the waterbender got to her climax you followed her, now completely defeated you fell besides her.

Korra pulled you closer to her with her arms and hugged you tight, letting you rest your head on her chest. A couple of minutes were needed for both to recuperate, the avatar was leaving caresses on your head and tiny pecks on your crown.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We'll find someone who can help you,” you spat, still hoarsely, now looking up to her. Amber eyes filled with compasion. “Don't give up just yet, I know we can find someone.”

Cold eyes looked at you with such tenderness and love before Korra pulled you in for a sweet kiss. “I love you.” she whispered over your lips, making you smile big. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I love you too,” you said back, leaving caresses on her cheeks. “I always have and always will, my love.”

[5-puthyyy]

The Apprentice (Agatha x Rio x Reader) - Chapter 2

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary:

Life has been about survival for you ever since your coven banished you for the simplest thing: desire. Since then, you've travelled from Inn to Inn, making ends meet, until you sense a powerful Magick presence coming from two mysterious women. They take you in as their apprentice and you end up learning far more than what you came for...

Ch.1 ~ Ch.2 ~ Ch.3 ~ Ch.4 ~ Ch.5 ~ Ch.6 ~ Ch.7 ~ Ch.8 ~ Ch.9 ~ Ch.10

It’s hard to know how long you have been following them but with how deep you have gone into the woods it feels as if you are countries away from your Inn. The Sun is still down and the Moon still up, the two gazing at each other as they pass with pure longing but never being able to touch. You follow carefully, not having them in your sight but still finding them with your string of light.

Once you catch sight of a cabin, the light leading past the door, you keep yourself hidden behind a large tree. It’s incredibly strong here, the pull of Magick. You’re shocked no other witch has found this place yet, or tried to at the very least. 

It’s a spacious build, likely two stories from the windows you can count, maybe even a basement. The wood seems new, with barely a scratch on it. Beds of flowers are arranged all around, but there are far too many for you to be able to really focus on anything else. You feel drawn enough to them to risk walking towards the cabin just to get a closer glimpse. White magnolia, pink lotus, and marigolds so vivid you can see their colour shining at this hour. But it’s the purple azaleas you find yourself unable to take your eyes off, giving in to the urge to touch a petal, eye fluttering at how soft it feels against your fingertips.

Somehow, you can feel Magick in those very petals calling out to you. Before you have the opportunity to give yourself a scandalous taste of that Magick, a throat clears from your side, startling you into a jump.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Unless I wanted to die. Which I do, sometimes.”

Your eyes lock to the brown-eyed woman standing on the porch by the open door of her cabin. That easy smirk is still on her lips and you can’t help but gaze at them for a moment too long – which she notices, given that her smirk widens even more.

Your lips move in a stutter, unable to say a word of apology despite it sitting at the tip of your tongue. She says nothing as she watches you struggle to come up with an excuse. The woman leans against the ledge of the open door, smirking with wide brown eyes that glimmer in entertainment.

“Oh, I–I cannot believe I did–I am so–I can only offer my apologies for my behaviour, miss, I do not know what possessed me to–”

A soft sigh catches your ears and she emerges from the shadows, through the open door. “You’re frightening the poor girl, my love,” the blue-eyed woman says, voice as smooth and silky as honey as she smiles wickedly.

You’re entranced as you watch her descend the steps slowly, her long, delicate fingers leaving a ghost of a touch on the wooden barrier of the steps. The white nightdress she has on flows with the light breeze, demanding the attention of your eyes that gaze over the intricate lace patterns at its hem. When she reaches the very ground you’re stepping on, she stays there, observing just like her partner with a calculated gleam in those shining blue eyes.

“Frightening?” The other woman speaks up, scoffing as she stomps down the steps, lacking the grace her partner carries. She stands a step in front of her, almost protectively as she crosses her arms, “You are far too trusting,” she grumbles, taking another step further to get closer to you, “She could be here to kill us,” she approaches, circling you like you’re prey, “or worse. She could be here to steal our Magick.”

The penny drops. It’s the confirmation you needed that it wasn’t just in your head, that your skills perhaps aren’t as rusty as you thought. They are witches, they do possess Magick and clearly an extreme amount of it. But you’re not here to steal it. No, you wouldn’t want to, you’re not a witch-killer, you’re the complete opposite of that.

“Train me.”

The words leave your lips before you can even comprehend what you are saying. Both their brows raise high in response, turning to look at each other with amusement.

“Train you? For what, exactly?” The brown-eyed witch asks, curiosity twinged along with the defensiveness in her tone.

Trailing your fingertips along the petals of the flowers, you force yourself to break eye contact to really think about your answer. You know what they’re likely expecting. Train you for power, for control, for revenge. The answers are endless, but that is not what you want. Every witch seeks the highest of powers but you never asked for this. There’s a lot you wanted in your past, but your coven’s banishments forced your wants to be pushed back; everything you’ve known since then has been about what you need. With that in mind, you clear your throat and finally look back up.

“Survival.”

The storm in those blue eyes clears as she takes you in. Your demeanor is nowhere near threatening and you’re aware that you have become somewhat of a shell of yourself. You have forgotten yourself and what makes you happy. The simple use of Magick in your daily life is something you miss, the act itself being too risky. You could not risk exposure.

Seemingly coming to a decision, she turns on her heel and climbs back up the steps, commanding authority in every step. Her partner sighs in defeat, gesturing with her head to you to follow them inside. You look behind you before you do so, remembering the Inn, the regulars, the little community you quickly became a part of. It was safe. You had to hide who you really were, but it was safe.

If life really was about survival, you’d turn and march to your little bedroom, never looking back here again. But you think about the power those two hold, the way the blue-eyed witch looked at you with something akin to a motherly gaze. It could be a trap. They could attack you and take your power the moment you step into their territory. But something inside you is telling you to trust them, just as they have trusted you by letting you in.

You look at the open door again, seeing nothing inside but darkness. Sucking in a deep breath, you take a step forward.

“Good morning, little dove, it’s time to wake up,” the soft voice rouses you from your slumber, a tender touch from a finger brushing over your temple soothing the frustrating blow of being woken up from such a deep sleep. You can’t remember the last time you slept this way, slept this long, slept with no fear of the sound of a group of angry men breaking through your door with pitchforks and fingered accusations.

“Mmm, no, five more minut–” your grumbling sentence is cut short by fingers trailing to your nest of hair, suddenly gripping, pulling, forcing a raspy gasp from the depths of your throat. Your eyes snap open to meet the powerful, controlled gaze of blues darkened by blown-out pupils.

“What was that?” she asks, her tone screaming I dare you to disobey me again. You don’t. Immediately sitting up, you mumble an apology but quickly pull the covers back up your chest, realising your extremely thin nightgown has exposed the hardened buds on your chest. It’s just the cold, you say to yourself, ignoring the flush on your cheeks that says otherwise, “Good. Ready yourself and come out for breakfast.”

There’s no room for debate as she swiftly gets up from the bed, her purple and black long dress waving at you as she walks out of the room shutting the door with a silent thud. You’re once again left alone with your thoughts, letting the covers drop with a sigh. What are you doing with your life? Does it mean this little to you for you to risk it like this?

It takes another minute of regret before you stand up and make your way to the washstand in the corner of your room. You trail your fingertips over the water filled to the brim of that deep bowl, dipping them in and sighing as the warmth of it slowly relaxes you. This will be fine. They let you in, they gave you a room, and they’re making you breakfast at this moment. It’s difficult for you to trust people but you have to try, at the very least.

Once your face is washed, hair neatened, and clothed appropriately, you silently make your way out. The bashfulness in your walk is clear to the pair standing by the small dining table clearly made for four people at the max. There are three bowls of milk porridge and a selection of fruits you’ve never had the pleasure of tasting yet. It’s clear they grow their own crops, and they’re well versed in it considering how lovely their garden looked last night.

“Sit,” the brown-eyed witch commands, taking her own seat as she says so. She sits with her legs spread, dressed in long black pants and a white shirt, a few buttons lazily left open. You cannot keep your eyes off of her, staring for a moment too long at the open cleavage, but you’re snapped out of it by a click of angry fingers.

“She gave you a command. Have you not learnt your lesson?” the blue-eyed witch states, eyes narrowed as she refers to waking you up.

Not wanting to risk another ‘lesson’, you promptly sit down, a blush tainting your cheeks. They both smirk at that, seemingly enjoying the humiliation.

“Eat, and then we will talk,” the blue-eyed witch states and you don’t fail to listen to her words this time, immediately grabbing the spoon set on the side. A few minutes later, you sit back in your chair, happily full and hydrated, sipping the last couple of drops of water left in your cup.

“I take it you enjoyed the fruit?” the brown-eyed woman states, glee in her eyes as you nod, “I have fruit trees in the back. Would you like to see?”

“Not now, Rio.”

“Rio,” you repeat the moment you hear the blue-eyed witch say it, “Is that your name?” It’s an unusual one, definitely uncommon especially in this part of the world.

“And you thought I would be the one to mess up your plans, Agatha,” Rio cackles as Agatha glares at her.

Agatha shrugs it off, switching back to her composed self easily. “Right, well,” she turns to you, “We were going to make you earn our trust before revealing our identities, but I suppose you have been good for us so far, haven’t you?”

The way she says it, her words almost honeyed, hits you right at your core. You shift uncomfortably, unable to speak a word. You can only nod in response, finding it hard to maintain eye contact as she smiles at you knowingly. There’s something cruel yet enticing about her; the way she balances her authority and power with the right amount of sweetness and tenderness…it’s dangerous, and worrying, but you can’t help being intrigued.

“My name is Y/N,” You suddenly spit out, realising that you need to give trust to earn it. Agatha hums in approval and you take that as a sign to continue, “I was banished from my coven by my…by my mother, for my, uh–She claimed I was unable to tame my desires.”

It’s a difficult subject for you to speak on, especially now that you realise you’ve never spoken about it since it happened. You kept it locked inside of you, buried as it festered into a chaotic mess of hurt. But Agatha and Rio’s eyes flash with a look of understanding, and something softer beneath it, and you feel…you feel safe.

“Ah. You come from those types of witches,” Agatha observes, muttering more to herself than to you. Rio clearly sees a conflict of some kind, resting her hand atop Agatha’s on the table, leaning over to whisper something in her ear. Those eyes disappear as they flutter shut, taking Rio’s comforting words in before nodding and opening them again.

“I thought…Well, no, I know life is about survival. How else would you get to the end of the road? You must survive and put yourself above all. That’s what I have been doing since my banishment. But I have come to realise that I want…more.”

Rio tilts her head, “More?”

You nod, sighing deeply as she watches you curiously. “Acceptance. Freedom. I want to be who I am, unapologetically.”

It seems those were the exact right words to say as Agatha sucks in a sharp breath, fingers turning white as she grips the edge of the table. Her eyes flutter for a moment before she composes herself.

“We will teach you, little dove, so long as you listen. That is our only condition.”

With that, you nod in acceptance, already awaiting your next instruction. Agatha and Rio turn to each other smiling at your obedience, ignoring your presence for a moment of indulgence. They lean in slowly, their noses brushing together before their lips meet in a tender kiss. You swallow the ball that has suddenly grown in your throat as you watch them kiss, forcing yourself to look away when you spot the swipe of a demanding tongue and hear a surrendering sigh. It’s another moment of you listening to the sounds of their kisses with a bright red flush across your chest, neck, and cheeks, before Agatha sighs, breaking it up for your sake.

“Go on, my love. Show her your garden.”

masterlist + guidelines

hope you guys enjoy this one!

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

People have been asking for a Chang timeline post! Chang not only represents a turning point in the politics of the Tintin series, he also represents a sense of chronology in the otherwise floating timeline of the canon. While Tintin almost never discusses his past, Chang is a key part of his personal story in Tintin in Tibet.

I imagine him and Tintin being around the same age, with Chang being a few months younger.

Child - Chang had a happy early childhood being raised by his father and grandparents. He never mentions his mother when recounting his backstory to Tintin, so my main guesses are she either passed away or his parents separated before Chang was old enough to remember her. His father and grandparents taught him how to cook from an early age, and taught him the importance of solidarity and community, lessons Chang will hold onto the rest of his life.

Early canon - Chang is orphaned. This sudden loss causes him to act out. He turns to picking pockets and causing general mischief until an orphanage takes him in. Chang learns a lot of skills just to survive - he’s stealthy, he’s street smart and pretty decent at climbing. His experiences as a street kid taught him to be wary of authority.

The orphanage provides a brief period of stability until it is swept away in a flood. Until this point, Chang has felt pretty powerless in his life so just goes with the flow, so when Tintin drags him out of a river he doesn’t think twice about going along with him to break up a drug ring in The Blue Lotus. Going on this adventure with Tintin imbues him with a sense of empowerment and purpose he never felt before.

Student - The Wangs adopt him pretty quickly after he busts the drug ring with Tintin. It’s a sudden change he struggles to adapt to, with the Wangs being wealthy academics and Chang coming from a working class background there’s a significant culture clash.

Tintin leaves just as quickly and rarely contacts Chang, even as his journalism career takes off, leaving Chang lonely and heartbroken. Chang tries to send him letters but doesn’t know that Tintin moved out of Labrador Road.

Having missed out on education for a bit Chang struggles with school. He feels unworthy of the opportunities the Wangs try to provide him with and a part of him feels they only adopted him because they were dazzled by him taking down that drug ring, an achievement he increasingly feels he will never live up to again. He struggles with mental health issues, but finds solace in photography, his portfolio getting him a place at university despite his bad grades.

Young adult - In an attempt to try and help Chang’s mental wellbeing the Wangs decide to send Chang off to visit his uncles before he starts university, only for Chang to nearly perish in a plane crash in Tibet. Ironically, it’s this near death experience that shakes him out of it. Chang has a renewed enthusiasm for life, taking to travelling, dance and photography. Didi trains him in some basic martial arts so Chang can fend for himself.

Tintin makes an effort to stay in touch after having nearly lost Chang. The two repair their friendship, and Tintin has him stay at Marlinspike when Chang studies in Belgium for his second year of university. By the time Chang comes around, he’s had a growth spurt and has been working out - Chang is pretty haunted by his skeletal state from his near death experience in Tibet, so has been making an effort to recover.

After helping Tintin with a case, Tintin gets him a job at his paper as his photographer. Being Chinese he faces challenges in the workplace, and he uses his charm to be as personable as possible. Unlike Tintin, he frequents quite a few staff parties, and ends up pretty popular!

A couple of years later, Chang tries to unionise the staff at the paper. He and Tintin are outed as a couple and the two of them are fired.

Middle aged - After fighting fascists with the Marlinspike team during WW2 Chang and Tintin settle down in Belgium, with Chang scraping out some freelance photography work and a part time job at a portraiture studio. War in China causes them to lose contact with his adopted family. 

While Tintin grows more cynical, Chang accepts the chaos of the world and mellows out a lot. He tries to be a supportive partner and makes extra effort to stay in touch with his uncles and cousins.

Elderly - Chang uses his skills in photojournalism when he gets involved in political activism. He and Tintin are finally able to reunite with Didi and his children in the 70s.

[namelessprince]

gillion canon design masterpost

ok last one \o/ lmk if i missed anything!

EPISODE 1:

Scute-like armor

Whalebone longsword

Shell shield

Shoulder-length hair

No shoes

Pretzel in tank at his hip

Simple loose black pants

Black sleeveless turtleneck

LOFFINLOT ARC:

Niklaus deal tattoo on wrist/forearm

DESIRE ISLAND ARC:

‘Coral’ colored necklace from Aslana

PARAMOUNT TOURNAMENT ARC:

New platemail armor

BLOCK:

Loses sword

Ring to match chip (never mentioned again)

EPISODE 54:

Broken coral crown (earl steals pieces of it for potions)

ALLPORT ARC 1:

Gains the Golden Lotus (sword), eventually called Destiny’s Blade

EPISODE 82:

Red lightning scars 

EPISODE 85:

Magical friendship bracelets

REDESIGN (87):

Hair longer, up in a bun

Pretzel now on shoulder

More traditional fantasy looking armor

Spikes, exaggerated shoulder pads. 

Blue black and gold

Helping hands gauntlets

Luxbrious pearl fragment embedded in sword

Shower head spray nozzles on palms of gauntlets. So he can spray people with water.

Boob window on shirt (not said in the episode but its on his character sheet)

ALLPORT ARC 2:

Oozing black scars on chest (only got scratched in “cool places” whatever that means)

Leaves armor there for rufus to customize it for him

ZERO AGAIN:

Gets armor back, now it's retractable

Curse scars heal

BLACK SEA ARC:

Hair braided (but still in a bun)

Gets skinned (“you didnt think i just grew the skin back, did you” but he does he literally does he heals himself and its fine after that)