#historians are genre aware

[rahabs]

My petty 2024 wishlist includes the ability to ban Six the Musical posts from both The Tudors tag and the general tags for Henry VIII's wives.

[21st-century-minutiae]

Star Wars is a late twentieth century, early twenty-first century science fiction/space opera media franchise of great acclaim. While the vast majority of characters in the setting make use of classic sci-fi technology such as robots, laser guns, and starships, the main protagonists and antagonists usually belong to a monastic order or spiritual cult respectively, and make use of mysticism and alchemy to great effect.

Due to the popularity of the franchise, the above poster would have been very well aware of the existence of Star Wars. The post exists because of said awareness, seeking engagement by pretending to not be aware. This is a variation of "Cunningham's Law," which, in its basic form, states that the best way to get an answer on the internet is not to ask the question but instead post the wrong answer and get corrected. By making a general vague post that invites correction or clarification, the above poster can expect to get a large amount of interaction from people pointing out Star Wars directly, or participating in the joke.

they should make a sci-fi series where everyone uses guns and traditional sci-fi technology, but the most powerful characters use swords and magic instead

[lesb0]

I'm always trying to stay on the cutting edge of every permutation of our constantly evolving visual culture but the elusiveness of every new form makes it difficult for me, even as one of the youngest possible millennials. in fashion, my freshman students are all wearing 2000s or "y2k" fashion: baggy grungy or baby phat hiphop, with an elevated touch of modesty, good color theory, and a stark awareness of bodily proportion. in memes, legendary 00s icon, lisa frank. its embarrassing to follow influencers with over 10 mil, now, as if it breaks the parasocial connection.

someone asked yesterday if tiktok is now the premier vehicle of visual culture. I open tiktok. on one side, a zoomed in interview with the mother of a shooting victim. but the other side is a compilation of slime videos, a woman cutting soap, life hacks, and chinese "smart" product placements. you can hear and see both. this bizarre genre, I can only recognize as content. on social media, content is technically anything you can doomscroll, the action of spending over 2 hours on a social media feed, a for you page, a timeline, a dashboard to tumblr addicts.

I'm watching cable TV with a girl I'm seeing. the ads are remarkably only geared towards boomers and older gen x. but, so is the 'content', bad action movies made for cable and reruns of 80s/90s TV shows, but the exact same show marathoned in hours long successions.

to be an effective art historian, I have to take things from this ever-shifting visual culture and translate it into the equally fickle and amorphous art world... so what does 'content' look like for museum shows? my first 100+ object loan show was in part by a colleague, a younger curator at BAMPFA. a massive exhibition of all female nonbinary artists, from the 60s PoMo feminists to the self obsessed identity displayers of today. I absolutely LOVED it. I had no problem enthusiastically flitting from object to object, frontwards and in reverse twice, to spend special time with all my favorites. a fave professor stopped me. I hadn't even recognized him in the excitement. he looked bewildered, but laughed about how giddy I was. he didn't write any criticism on the show. my boss at the time, our museum director, told me she thought it was "such a big mess". my favorite lesbian professor clutched onto her wife with an anxious look. my lesbian artist friend had panic attack and put his headphones on in a dark corner. on the other hand, the younger undergrad girls from berkeley looked elated and delighted, flitting around and oohing and aahing at my same pace. I learned one of them was an engineering student named erin who needed a feminist pickup from the disouragement in her male dominated field.

so how has the 'content' show, or the art world reception to them, changed in the past 4 years? well for one, it seems like major flagship institutions are dropping the mononym altogether. as the french impressionists take over the east coast, none of shows feature one painter as a sole focus, but curators use juxtapositions to keep people interested. in MoMAs, monoynym shows are reserved for major retrospectives or figuratively and literally, monolith artists like simone leigh. the older art historians are hesitant to adapt to these changes. one of my favorite shows this summer, over 300 very different collection pieces packed onto the floor and across the hall, wasn't enjoyed by any of the critics I know. My dates all hated it. except one, a hot ADHD butch who had a tiktok doomscrolling addiction.

what does this mean for the future of how shows are displayed.... how do museums let go of the traditional princely standard: 3.5 inch hangings with a 25 degree downwards tilt? is it better or worse to compromise museums into messy 17th century curiosity cabinets?

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #61 – Those Across The River by Christopher Buehlman

Months and months ago, I asked for recommendations on books that actually tried to make werewolves horrifying instead of just some variety of urban fantasy or romance archetype. Those Across The River was one of the few real recommendations I got, and then spent most of the year languishing on my To-read shelf until I had entirely forgotten why it was there. It does very much fit the requirements asked of it, and in concept is really quite a juicy idea. Unfortunately, it’s rather let down b execution here – both in terms of prose and of content.

Frank Nichols is a historian – or was one, anyway. After an affair with a college's wife named Eudora becomes public and he responds by running away with her, his career prospects take something of a swan dive. And in the midst of the Great Depression, there are far more wannabe academics than there are jobs for them. So, after living for a time with his brother in Chicago, the two of them move down south to take up residence in the small southern town his mother fled as soon as she was able, where Dora might at least draw a salary as a school teacher. And, more importantly, where Frank can research his great-grandfather, a confederate planter killed by his own slaves in the last days of the Civil War whose ruined plantation lies somewhere nearby, to write the biography that will restart his career.

Times are tough there too, and soon after the pair of them move in there is a town meeting where it’s agreed to end the monthly tradition of driving a pair of hogs across the river to thank God for their good fortune. While God doesn’t seem to mind much one way or the other, the creatures living in the woods who had made feasts of those pigs certainly do, and on the next full moon raid the outskirts of the town to make their displeasure known. From there, things just about only get worse.

So as mentioned, this is the vanishingly rare sort of story made in the last couple of decades that take ssomething recognizable as werewolves and actually tries to play them straight as something awful, threatening, and horrifying. I think this mostly works – there’s only a scene or two I’d really call horrifying, but then with books that’s an incredibly high bar for me. It manages the tone and atmosphere of a proper horror story throughout, and never lets the werewolves stop being strange an dangerous.

A large part of this is, I’m sure, just the fact that no one in the story is even the tiniest bit genre-savvy or awae of what a ‘werewolf’ is, as a cultural figure. Beyond providing the isolation and lack of outside forces that might help, the period setting does an incredible amount of work in just making it plausible that no one in the story was aware of what kind of story they were in. This is actually probably the first straightforward monster horror story I’ve read or seen in a while that wasn’t in some way trying to comment or make cute references to the wider genre.

The period setting is, werewolves aside, easily the most engaging thing about the book. Less so for the particulars of the world than the character of Frank. The entire book is spent in his head, marinating in his internal monologue, and it’s a wonderfully strange and uncanny place – the story makes a liberal college professors from New England in the 1930s seem more genuinely alien (and often repulsive) than most genre fiction manages to make feudal aristocrats or cybernetic oligarchs.

The prose is interesting. Often good, but just as often reading like someone’s very self-conscious pastiche of mid-20th century ‘Great American Novel’ writing. Which I think is intentional, but does begin to wear on you – there’s only so many times you can read a guy say ‘how like a sphinx!’ when describing his fiancee before it grates. The exception here is Frank’s traumatic nightmares of his time fighting WW1 in France, which I reliably found quite evocative and striking.

The book’s politics are, well, bad, but in an absolutely fascinating sort of way. Better to say that the book is torn between the themes and politics it wants to have, and the mixture of genre requirements and I guess an author and editor who didn’t care much about subtext that leave it sending too drastically different messages. It’s probably one of the most interesting things about the book.

On the explicit, textual level, the book is very conscious of all the petty cruelty and flagrant brutality that went into maintaining the Jim Crow South, and views e.g. the way Frank calls it ‘the States War’ with jaundiced irony. There are passages talking explicitly about the injustice of sharecropping, and the vulgar racism of all the townspeople is presented as one more reason to view most of them with contempt. And of course the supernatural evil driving the whole story is the bloody legacy left behind by a confederate slaveowner who hunted and consumed human flesh wearing the skin of a beast, whose shadow looms large over the entire story. The book is generally very clear that ‘racism = bad’.

And yet-

This is also a story where functionally every black character is an inhuman, man-sexually predatory, man-eating beast in human skin (there is exactly one ‘good’ werewolf, he’s a yankee), where the indigent drifters walking through town begging for work really were sinister malefactors mapping things out to return with their friends latter, where the protagonist’s fiancee having dubiously consensual sex with a black man is very much presented as part of her own transformation into an insatiable, uncontrollable, literally babe-eating werewolf herself.

Horror has a reputation for being a reactionary genre by default, which this book feels like a decent argument towards. More, it was published in 2010, and I might owe that whole decade of pop-media critique being elevated to spectator sport that it’s genuinely hard to find stuff quite this unselfaware getting published these days.

A very fitting Halloween read I suppose, in the same way watching an ‘80s slasher is.

[ihavethedreamies]

From Afar | What the Heart Wants (1)

Qian Kun & Nakamoto Yuta (NCT)

Rating: Suggestive (18+) MDNI

Nothing explicitly is said or done, but sexual interactions are implied.

The beginning of this story has the reader underaged, but nothing happens or is implied to happen before she turns 18.

Word Count: ~14.2k

Pairing(s): Kun x AFAB!Reader x Yuta, the primary pairing is Kun x Reader, but it's kinda both for the first part.

Genre: Reader-Insert, Altered History AU!, Royalty AU!, Plot! (wow), Fluff? (not for sure that's what to call this), not quite smut (yet), Angst (but angry)

!!There are mature themes discussed…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used, Arranged Marriage (ish), Harems/Multiple Wives (more fiancées…), Bullying (see Caution), Some Swearing, Borderline Misogyny/Sexism (you'll see, not from the boys, just like…society), Favoritism, Love Triangle, Jealousy, Pining, One-Sided Crush/Infatuation (or is it?)

Caution: This story is a bit darker than my normal stuff. There isn't bullying throughout, just one intense scene. It's not in a school setting, but I do want to warn anyone reading this that it could be triggering. I'll be real and admit that there is definitely toxicity here, and I know that's what it is, I try to be realistic with my stuff. There is also a part where the reader has a severe allergic reaction, so if that is something that is hard for you to read, be aware. Please let me know if you think I need to add in any more specific warnings or cautions.

Author's Note: This is based off of a dream I had while I took a nap a bit back. I changed some details because what happened in the dream was a little too unrealistic. But, most of it is pretty much the same. I have a lot of Kun dreams, but most of them I can't write a story with because there are weird cross-overs with my real life and often the video game Mass Effect (lol), so…

P.S. Kun is my Ultimate Bias and so…I held back for so long of going down the rabbit hole because I knew I wouldn't be able to crawl out once I did. I am working on another much longer series so that's why I don't have much posted for him yet since I want to get it mostly done before I post any of it.

P.S.S. The reader has a bad allergy to coconut, which is one I have. So, it might seem a bit extreme with her reaction to it, but I know from personal experience how bad I can be with it. I haven't had the same thing happen though.

I split this into two different parts because I hate reading a long story, and then the app or page somehow gets closed, and then you have to scroll to find your spot… The second part is just smut, literally just the smut part, but it was so long I needed to separate the two parts.

Part 2: Up Close (Smut)

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Your life seemed to end before it really began. Things like harems for royalty and royalty itself should be in history books and old stories, not modern times. Yet here you were. Historians often talk about how much different the eastern world might look had Japan been successful in taking Korea nearly 100 years prior. Would they have ruled East Asia rather than the Korean Monarchy? Would China be its own country still? Siam? All you knew is that if World War II had gone much differently, you wouldn't be in the situation you were.

In order to keep the commoners and everyday folks of each country of the Korean Empire in line, the Emperor would marry a noblewoman from each land, therefore forming his Harem. When he was a prince, he had his little group of girls that followed him around and did everything with him, almost like some kind of harem anime or even American dating show. One would be picked to be his 'main wife' and the rest were concubines. That's what you were. Well, almost. You were 'in training' to be a possible concubine or wife. The king had five wives, and a son with each woman. The eldest was Taeyong, from the king's first Korean wife; then Prince Yuta, whose mother was Japanese; third born was Prince Kun, from a Chinese mother; second youngest was Prince Ten with a Siamese mother. His birthname was not used very often since most people didn't know how to pronounce it, and finally the youngest Prince was Prince Doyoung. His mother was Korean as well and since he was the youngest, he had the least responsibilities. Not necessarily in a bad way, but he was quite lazy and didn't go out very often. Each prince had a symbol that then was used to name his girls. Taeyong's was a rose and so his girls were The Petals. Yuta's was the Cherry Tree, so his girls were The Sakura. Kun's was a Bear, and his girls were The Ursas. Ten's symbol was a cat and his girls, The Tabbies. Finally, Doyoung's symbol was a rabbit, so his girls were The Bunnies. The name he chose somewhat showed how little he cared for formality. It was too much effort, and he was actually considered the best prince to follow. None of the princes were bad, though, it was simply that Doyoung was the least strict, and there were less rules overall. Taeyong's group was the most prestigious since he was the Crown Prince, and so it was hard to stay in The Petals.

Many different things could make a girl leave or get kicked out. It was pretty easy to get kicked out actually, but most of the time it was by the other girls. Jealousy and competition were rampant, but if sabotage or cheating was ever even just suspected, you were out. Each prince got their initial set at the age of eighteen, and the girls would be at the most two years younger, never older. So, when Prince Yuta hit the proper age, they sent out the search committee. Your father had told you as a little girl that he would never, no matter how much money was offered, let you go. Unfortunately, he didn't get to make the decision because he passed two years prior. Your mother couldn't manage the family estate and business well either, so she remarried, and of course your stepfather was more than willing to hand you over. You never learned how much he was paid, but you knew, to him, it was more than you were worth.

There were always five girls, two from Korea and one from China, Japan, and Siam as well. When you were escorted to the royal palace, you looked up at the tall arch allowing entry onto the grounds. Due to historical preservation laws, no one actively lived in the palace, but there was a modern campus built for the royal family. The guards let the fancy black car you were being escorted in through and it continued down the road past the elegantly preserved palace. Finally, after nearly five minutes of driving, the vehicle stopped in front of what appeared to be an extremely fancy hotel. You were told the main estate was further into the campus and was where the King and Queen lived with the Concubines. Where you were to live was where the princes and all of their entourages lived. Shakily, you got out of the car when it came to a stop, the heels of your black Mary Jane's clicking on the stone pavement. Your suitcases were removed from the trunk, and they went off to your room as you were led down the opposite hallway. Looking around at your surroundings, the building felt less like a royal residence and more of a luxury apartment building, there were even a few restaurants. Finally, after a long walk in very uncomfortable shoes, you were told to enter a large ballroom and you stood in line with what seemed to be twenty other girls. That was a surprise, you thought for sure you had already been chosen. While you wanted to pray you wouldn't be chosen, you also feared being sent back to your stepfather. Your soft yellow and white dress was probably just as expensive as the other girls’ but seemed much plainer. Standing straight, trying to remember your etiquette training, the line of girls all did the same, stiffening when a door on the other side of the ball room entered. At least, you thought it was a ballroom. There was a stage on the opposite wall and that was it. No tables or chairs, nothing. You felt the girls to your left and right turn their heads to try and see who entered, but you just stared ahead. The three people that entered stopped in the middle of the room, a bit to your left since you were toward the end of the line. The other girls were whispering, and curiosity took over and your eyes flicked to look at them. It was a servant, most likely since he was in a butler's outfit, a man in a business suit, and who you assumed to be the prince. He was beautiful, and that was an objective fact. His dark brown hair was longer, hitting his shoulders and he had it tied back into a half-ponytail. He was not dressed like a prince really; he had on a black T-shirt or tank top with a soft-looking grey sweater over it. He was in jeans and sneakers, and you looked down at your dress, then at the others. You were sixteen, but you felt like a little girl then, with your high-collared, long-sleeved white button-up with a yellow sundress over top. Though, it seemed he preferred casual, and you were the closest to that. His stance was casual as well, arms behind his back, leaning his weight on one leg as he lightly swayed, looking over the line of girls. The servant cleared his throat, and it was like some kind of primal instinct took over, and you placed your hands together over your stomach, and bowed low. No one else did. Panic set in when you realized this, hearing the other girls whispering. Now too nervous to stand back up, you pressed your lips together, but stayed bowed.

"It seems she was the only one raised correctly." A new voice, a woman's, cut in and you heard another person walk in. The woman stopped in front of you, and you only saw the bottom of her dress and shoes, she was dressed in the traditional dark green and blue hanbok.

"You may look up, dear." She prompted and you straightened, looking up slightly at the much older woman. Her hair was graying at the roots, but she was still quite beautiful. Her hair was tied back in a bun with a simple wooden pin and you swallowed under her sharp gaze.

"Prince Yuta, please come here." Her tone changed, and she bowed, stepping to the side and you froze as he left his original position and strode over to you. He stopped before you and you dropped your gaze. Don't look at his face. That was clearly something no one else learned and you were a bit worried about that, though, his handmaiden seemed pleased with you. Didn't mean he would be.

"How old are you?" His voice was soft, deeper than you thought it would be.

"Sixteen, your highness." Your hands still rested over each other, flat against your stomach and you tried not to flinch when his finger went to your chin. He lifted your head, but your eyes stayed down, no matter how badly you wanted to look at his face better.

"Look at me." He prompted and you obeyed. He was even more attractive up close, more handsome than you thought, still pretty. He tipped his head and a similarly pretty smile spread on his face.

"Her."

After that, you were quickly whisked away.

"What will happen with the other girls?" You asked the maid that was taking your measurements after you reached some sort of dressing room.

"He will pick the other nine and you will begin training." The same older woman from before entered then and you nodded jerkily, trying to process everything.

"Training?"

"It seems you have begun on etiquette already, unlike the other girls. That will help. Ten girls will start and after your four years the final five will graduate up. You will all learn everything you need to, to be a good woman of the royal family and possibly a future princess."

"I see." The same maid began holding up different swatches of fabric next to your face, flipping through different colors. Seemingly making a decision, the maid nodded to the head handmaiden, and you stepped off the small pedestal you had been set on.

"Let us go child, I will escort you to the dormitory."

 ~*~*~

Over the next four years, as you were told, you trained. Ten girls all lived in a four-bedroom apartment, three in two, and two in two. It was miserable. You really didn't mind the training and tutoring itself, it was the clique-like mentality the girls had even within the dorm. Let alone in the other training groups. You felt like an outlier the whole time but staying quiet and laying low helped. You yourself were not bullied, but you weren't friends with the other girls either. Not in any of the groups. Prince Taeyong's girls were a few months ahead of your group and the other three were not even a year younger. The eldest prince was only about four months older than Yuta, and he was only a month, maybe two, older than Kun. The youngest were each a month after. It seemed the King had gotten to work quickly…

For the first year you almost never saw any of the princes, not even Yuta. It seemed the first year was really used to weed out girls, and that was when some of the original twenty made a return. If one of the ten got kicked out or left, they replaced her. That was not what you expected at all, but it seemed you were relatively safe. You only got one demerit over the first year, and it was minor. The rules were strict and after your first dink you never messed up again. What did you mess up? You forgot to put in your earrings before the morning check.

After the second year, you would have more interactions with Prince Yuta, and sometimes the others. That was when you first met the third-born Prince. Kun. Your eyes widened when you saw him, it was like some kind of rose-colored filter hung around him. He was…perfect. You weren't sure exactly what drew you to him so heavily, but it was nearly backbreaking, the weight of your crush. It didn't help that your infatuation was with the completely wrong prince. Most of the girls were good at staying loyal to their boy, and if they weren't, that was grounds for expulsion. It was your first true hinderance and possible snare. The only one, really. Luckily, he wasn't around too often in the second year. For no reason, really, you hated the girls in his group. They were so incredibly fortunate in your eyes and didn't realize how much so. Was Yuta bad? Not in any way, shape or form. He was extremely sweet and kind, generous…but he wasn't Kun. To you, that was his greatest sin. Your obsession was a bit worrying, honestly. Though the girls were given a therapist they could talk with, she was there for things like homesickness and anxiety. Not near yandere-levels of love for a Prince not their own. Okay…it wasn't that bad, but you feared that if your mind ever got too weak, if you broke, it would be that bad. When third year rolled around… It got so much worse. The princes did a lot of things together and if a girl made it to year three, then she got to as well. On the new year of year three, the girls remaining were the final ones. One could leave, but she wouldn't be replaced. So, what most often happened, is the gaggle of fifty girls would each take turns with which five would go on an outing with their prince. What killed you about those, was when you were picked, and Kun would be there. It was hard to keep your wistful stares off of him and you prayed he would stick near Yuta for as long as possible, so you could look at him all the more. He was what most considered to be the handsome one among the half-brothers. Taeyong was what the girls defined as cute-hot. Could be either. Yuta was handsome-pretty, Ten was just pretty and Doyoung was just cute. Kun was handsome to the rest, but to you he was also the cutest, prettiest, and hottest. He was by no means buff, but he was able to build the most muscle tone out of all of them and you couldn't help but stare when his pants were just the right amount of tight around his thighs. When you finally got close enough to really look at him the first time, you cataloged every little feature you could. Especially the beauty mark under his right eyebrow.

~*~*~

You were truly a goner when you attended a causal tennis game the princes were engaging in. Doyoung sat off the side with his girls, and they were literally playing some kind of board or card game instead. You sat with the four other Sakuras on a bench, not even watching the tennis ball fly between Yuta and Taeyong's rackets. You were staring off into the distance, messing with a stray string at the top of your knee-high socks. If the head handmaid saw it… Wrapping your finger around it tight, you yanked to try and pull it away, the elastic tightening with each tug. You were so preoccupied with your sock that you didn't even hear the warning call, but something thunked against the back of your head. You yelped, falling forward off the bench, managing to catch yourself with your hands, but you scraped your knees up badly on the court-floor.

"Hiyomi!" Yuta immediately called and was at your side. You weren't even sure if you would have known he was calling you if he had said your real name. You hadn't heard it in such a long time.

"Good job!" Ten shouted sarcastically and you heard another come to your side.

"Hey, you okay?" Yuta helped you sit up a bit, letting your rest your forehead on his shoulder as he looked at the back of your head.

"I'm so sorry, Hiyomi." Your body froze when the other person's voice seemed to speak right in your ear and another hand rested on your upper back.

"Does it hurt there?" You hadn't even realized Yuta had pressed on your neck at the base of your head. He must have taken your sudden rigidity as a pain response. Carefully, slightly, you turned your head so you could glance out of the side of your eye, through your hair, at a red shirt. Only one of the princes was in a red shirt that day. You were sure your face turned about that same shade when you realized the other boy so close to you was Kun, and that the hand on your back was his.

"Hiyomi?" Yuta prompted again and you flinched back to reality.

"Uh, no." Your own hand came up to run over your head, wincing as you felt the small bump forming under your hair. The hand left your back and you felt Yuta move your hair so he could see where you pressed. You gasped when Kun's hand came back, his fingers gently running over the bump.

"She should probably go to the infirmary." The younger prince decided, and Yuta hummed in agreement.

"I'm so sorry, Hiyomi." He apologized again, and even though it was your alias, hearing him speak your name twisted your insides around.

"I-It's okay." You were too scared to lift your head as Yuta helped you stand, knowing that if you met Kun's gaze then you would fall back to your knees.

"Come on, sweetheart." Yuta wrapped an arm around you so he could lead you toward the building and you felt the glares of your team boring through you. It was evident even before then that Yuta favored you, and it made the girls mad. You never made more of an effort to woo him like they did, you just lived your life naturally, and that seemed to be what appealed to him.

"I guess the nurse isn't here right now." Yuta had helped you sit on the edge of one of the two cot-like beds and then he kneeled in front of you.

"Do you mind if help with your knees?" He had noticed the scrapes, and you shook your head with a hum, and he left to get the first aid kit. It was then you really felt the pain in your head, but you hadn't even seen stars, so you doubted you had a concussion. The tennis ball hadn't been going that hard, it had bounced on the court before it hit you, slowing it down pretty good. When the prince came back, he cleaned the scrapes and you winced at the sting. He was so gentle and put ointment on as well before the band-aids. As his thumb smoothed over the bandage, he opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse decided to return right then. He went back out to the tennis court as she looked you over and she suggested you rest for a bit, there was no concussion evident, but you did still get hit in the head.

You had managed to drift half-way to sleep, and you somewhat registered hearing the nurse step out, and someone not too long after coming in. It was a different person for sure, they weren't in heels, and you wondered if it was the head handmaid. Flittering your eyes open when you felt them move to your bedside, you jerked in shock.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" You tried not to panic, eyes falling quickly to the white logo on his red shirt. You were allowed at that point to look at Yuta's face, but you weren't sure about the other princes. Plus, if you did, you might just explode.

"N-No." You shook your head against the pillow and shuffled under the light blanket. Fuck. You tried not to wince when he kneeled down so he could meet your gaze. He smiled. You were done for.

"Sorry, I really didn't mean to let the ball hit you. I tried to go after it, but I'm not very fast." Kun huffed bashfully and you just gaped. Speak! Say something, stupid!

"I-It's okay."

"Can you tell Yuta you're not mad at me? He looked like he wanted to kill me." You knew the look. Yuta was definitely the scariest of the brothers.

"Y-yes." He sighed in relief at that and stood back up.

"I should probably go before you get in trouble for me being in here." He huffed in annoyance and then waved as he left the little infirmary. You were truly and royally, ironically, screwed.

~*~*~

Of course, it got worse through the third and into the fourth year. All the teams had been narrowed down to the final five, the girls that were weeded out were essentially turned into the reserve team. You didn't know what that meant until after you graduated. And you did. You were in the final five for The Sakuras, the little junior harem of Prince Yuta. You were also the forerunner, the informal leader despite being the youngest, but you were the least popular. Out of all twenty-five girls, they all either hated you or didn't care to acknowledge your presence. To them you put in very little effort to get to your rank, well, how you ranked to Yuta. In actuality, you put in the most effort, and had no demerits and never had to make up in any of your training. All of the other maknaes, the youngest, were the favorites of the other girls. Not you. You didn't fit the cutesy, sweet image you were supposed to it seemed. The graduation wasn't going to be until April. Because the princes were so close in age, they decided to just do everyone at the same time, and that just made the internal competition even worse. Though, your favor with the head handmaiden granted you a privilege. Early information. You knew things before anyone else, you were warned. That's how you saw it anyway. It seemed that there would be another year of training after graduation. Everyone was of age by then, which meant the sexual teachings started. It had to wait till you were finally assigned to your prince, since he would head your 'studies'. You were to learn what he liked, how he liked it and so on. It was a rumor by that point, and many girls were unbothered by this. It made sense and they were okay with it since they would be future wives anyway, and some were even looking forward to it. You didn't hate Yuta, not anything close. You did like him, but… You decided then that you had to give up on the younger Prince. You were Yuta's, and that was final. You also learned that the girls that fell through the cracks more or less joined a brothel, modern day gisaeng for the princes and their friends. Not only did the girls graduate in April, so did the princes. And that meant everything changed. You wouldn't say that they turned into scoundrels, but finally they were more-or-less unrestrained, so they let loose. Parties. Drinking. Sex. Lots of it. You never asked about the other princes, not wanting to learn that your beloved prince had fallen into debauchery as well. Their personalities hadn't changed, they weren't abusive or even rude, but they turned into animals. You heard that Ten and his friends had full orgies with his girls and the extras. You knew when Johnny showed up that something utterly filthy was about to go down.

Taeyong seemed to be more restrained, but he was somewhat selfish. He didn't want to share his Petals, but that didn't mean that it wasn't just as naughty what happened in his quarters. Doyoung preferred more low-key engagements, but just because there was only one girl in his bed didn't mean they weren't going at it for hours on end. The only first-hand knowledge you had was with Yuta. Obviously. Honestly, you seemed to be corrupted more and quicker than the other girls. It was one of the few times you felt like you could be yourself, not constantly worried about doing and saying the right things. It was a good outlet as well for all the emotions you pushed down and hid. You were open to most things, mostly because Yuta was by no means selfish. You preferred the more carnal and kinky acts honestly; you weren’t sure you could ‘make love’ to him. The only thing that first gave you pause was when he asked if you would be okay with two of his friends joining. No other girls, just the three guys and you. It was a bit scary at first, and you wondered if your future husband had some sort of fetish, but his reasoning shocked you.

"You let me do whatever I want, Hiyomi. I want to spoil you." He spoke between kisses along your neck, your shoulder exposed from where his shirt had fallen over it. Yuta wasn't that big for a man, but he was bigger than you, his clothes baggy on your body. If you asked him, he probably would be okay with just one wife. And it would be you. You wished it wasn't though. Even with the comparatively few interactions you had over the years with Kun, you had hopelessly fallen for him, and you were content to pine after him in the distance for the rest of your life. That was better than nothing at all.

"W-which friends?" You shivered as his fingers ran over your back under the garment you had on, one finger slipping under the waist band of your lacey panties.

"Jungwoo. Mark?" His arms wrapped around you and pulled you down further into his lap, his hard cock straining against his pants. It seemed the thought alone turned him on. Those two? That was fine. Most of the princes' friends were shared, but Yuta was the closest with the two he offered. It made sense. It was odd at first to think about it, but if you weren’t sleeping with Yuta out of love, then it wouldn’t be too much different with them. And, based off what you knew the other girls did, it was actually relatively mild.

"You don't have to, sweetheart." Yuta nuzzled under your ear, and you sighed.

"That’s fine." It became a somewhat regular occurrence. And, as far as you knew, the other girls were not in a similar arrangement. But they knew, or at least, knew parts. This made them hate you more, they saw it as favor. It was one thing for a prince to indulge himself in three women, it was another for one woman to get ravished by a prince and his two friends. That was the ultimate sign of favor, you were good enough to not just get solo access to Yuta whenever but get the same treatment from his two just-as-attractive friends. The other girls knew, but they didn’t realize it was a common thing, just once in a blue moon. You didn't talk about it, because you knew how the others would be with it, and it honestly made you want Kun more. Somehow. Even with three men only wanting to please you, you wanted more… Not more, just someone else. 

~*~*~

You had a close call though, you almost got found out. There was some big event that the princes were having, some formal party. It wasn't a drunken orgy or anything, almost like some kind of game night with all their friends. All of the girls went as well, it was supposed to be childish fun. You hated it. Not minding cuddling up with Yuta, you hated doing it with all the girls glaring at you. Mostly the other four in your group, because it made his favor toward you all the more obvious. You managed to get through the night, taking the chance to watch Kun without restraint when they decided to start some karaoke. He was the second-best singer after Doyoung, but none of the brothers were slouches. Some of their friends were pretty good themselves, could have been their jobs. It wasn't you ogling him while he sang that gave you away though. And, either fortunately, or horribly, Kun was the one that noticed. The guys were all taking random pictures together, and you stood at the side watching, honestly enjoying the random things they were doing. At some point Kun ended up sitting on the floor, holding up his closest friend, Chenle, so he didn't fall off of Jeno's back where he stood. You covered your mouth and giggled, eyes flicking to Kun as they tried to hold the pose for the picture. His eyes flashed to meet yours and you felt yours grow wide. He smiled, straight at you, and not the sweet one he normally gave at formal events or to diplomats and other public figures. It was a smirk, and it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. You knew your face was once again red as a cherry, you could feel the heat leaving your skin. You quickly avoided his look; hand going to try and cover your face as you slipped away from the crowd and toward the restroom. You splashed cold water on your face, then met your own frazzled gaze in the mirror. Taking a few deep breaths, you moved to leave but heard voices in the hall, so you halted.

"You know that Jingxian girl is a bitch, right?" The voice was familiar, but quieter than you were used to, so you almost didn't recognize it was Chenle.

"That's harsh." Another person replied. Renjun?

"It's true." That was Yangyang.

"Wait, was she the one who threw her soup at that maid while they were in Europe?" Renjun asked.

"Yeah. She also apparently pretty much stole some girl's necklace that she liked when she went to Japan with…I think her name is Eiko?" Chenle replied.

"Kun-ge told me that she had taken some book from one of Yuta's girls and threw it in a fountain. It was signed or something. He made her replace it and she had to pay like a million won." Your arm jerked away from the handle then. Yuta told you a maid had done it on accident…

"Was it the quiet one he got the leather satchel for?" You shook your head a bit in shock. Yuta got that for you…you thought.

"He told me he tried to get Yuta to let him have her in the beginning, but he said no." Chenle continued, and their voices faded as they continued down the hall. Your head was swimming and your heart had started to race again. There was nothing you could do if all that was true. You were Yuta's, and that was final.

~*~*~

There was a final straw for the other Sakuras though. At it would be their downfall it seemed, and they only fell because they weren’t careful when trying to push you over the edge first.

You were in the lounge, the area big enough to easily accommodate all of the girls and let them have all kinds of fun. Your favorite place was on the top bunk, of essentially a bunk-couch. Instead of a bunk bed, there was a nice soft couch with a wooden loft over it, and another couch on top with ladder-like staircase to get you up on. That was your favorite place. It was removed from the central conversation-pit-like area where most of the girls gathered. They would play drinking games and tell all sorts of lurid stories and secrets, while you would sit under the dim light of a lamp and read.

"Hiyomi, come here!" The girl that called you, Eiko, was the second eldest of your group. She was the only one that was actually Japanese herself, but even then, she was given a different name. You each were granted one from Yuta himself, you weren't even sure he knew any of your real names. Your birthnames didn't matter anymore.

Sighing, you reluctantly put your bookmark in your novel and trudged over to the group. Not everyone was there, Ten's girls were probably off getting drunk and defiled, and three of Taeyong's were with him abroad. Sitting down gently in an armchair, you smoothed your skirt down as you did and stiffly rested back.

"We're playing truth or dare." Of course they were.

"Okay?" They never invited you to play anything or do anything with them unless they were forced to. The competition had gotten much worse lately. As the Princes all approached the grand age of 25, they would finally choose their main wife. You were in the lead, to no one's surprise, but to everyone's chagrin. Yours included. You shot a quick glance at Jingxian. She was the forerunner of the Ursas…Kun's favorite seemingly. She was refined, elegant, beautiful. To many she was kind, sweet, but she was cold to you. She was never rude in person and as far as you know, after the book incident she didn't do anything. That was better than cruel though. She was close with Eiko, and you assumed that was why she disliked you so much, since Eiko cared so little for you. You didn't associate much with any of Kun's girls, but still you hated them. No, that wasn't the right word, you envied them. The worst thing was, you knew that Jingxian didn't love Kun. Just like you didn't love Yuta. She was enamored with Taeyong. Well, maybe not him, but his status. He was the crown prince, which would mean she could be queen if she was chosen. You weren't sure who else knew this, but you knew it was grounds for her to be more-or-less banished. If you really wished, you could out her, and get her kicked out, but what was the point? That wouldn't help you any, and there was no point in lashing out at her out of jealousy. That would make you just like all the others.

"Come sit here." Eiko was being way to friendly, which made you way suspicious. You followed her prompt though; you were the youngest after all. There was an empty soju bottle in the middle, the girls clearly having finished it off earlier.

"I'll start." One of the Petals started; her name was Anjeong. She spun the bottle, and you held your breath, only sighing gently in relief when it landed on Eunhwa, the eldest Bunny.

"Truth or dare, unni?"

"Hm." Eunhwa tapped her finger on her chin, "truth."

"How big is Prince Doyoung's cock?" She prompted and the girls chattered with curiosity. You zoned out then, knowing how this whole thing was going to go. Your eyes drifted to watch the gas flames in the fireplace. As you glanced back at the bottle as it was spun again, not even hearing her answer, your eyes passed over Lumei. She was the maknae of the Ursas, and you hated her the most. You could have been her; she was only about a month younger than you. She didn't seem to notice your glare and she giggled when the bottle landed on her when Eunhwa spun it.

"Truth or Dare, Lumei?"

"Dare!" She decided quickly and Eunhwa looked thoughtful for a second, looking around. She smirked and cast a devilish look at Jingxian before looking back to Lumei.

"Show us what Prince Kun's favorite position is." You wondered if they noticed you go still. Completely. You couldn't show a reaction, you didn't want to let any of them know your secret. They would use it to assassinate you. Jingxian scoffed at the question, over-dramatically.

"I don't think she's can." She grinned coyly, taking a sip of her wine and Lumei sent her a playful sneer.

"Honestly, I can't really show you, because I myself can't do it. But…" Lumei looked around and then climbed onto the couch behind her. She sat on it backwards, knees on the back of the couch, back to the cushion, her head hanging over the edge, hair flowing to the floor. She opened her mouth wide and just sat there a second, the other Ursas giggling. Your jaw clenched, eyes stinging, but you still didn't move.

"Her gag reflex is too sensitive." Jingxian pressed on her throat, and she hacked, sitting up to catch her breath around laughs.

"I can't even open my mouth that wide…" Mianyu mumbled, and the girls chattered and giggled. Your tongue ran over your lips, and you pondered if you could. You were all too familiar with that position Lumei mimicked, and at first you had been disgusted at her pose. But now you would enjoy it with Yuta more, you could imagine Kun instead. Like you often did. Your gag reflex was practically nonexistent, whether it was genetics or a fluke, it had always been that way.

"Okay!" Your eyes flicked to the bottle as Lumei spun it, still giggling, clearly tipsy. You sagged in relief when the bottle landed on Aikiro then. She was your biggest rival…in her eyes anyway. She outright despised you, she felt she should be the favorite just because she was the ‘leader’. Okay…whatever.

"Trush or dare?" The Ursa maknae hiccupped and you wondered if the blood going to her head made her drunker.

"Truth." She leaned back against the couch she sat in front of, sending a wry look your way. What did you do? You rolled your eyes and looked back at the fire.

"How many times have you done it with Yuta, and Jungwoo and Mark?" she asked, and silence fell over the group. Your eyes widened a bit, but you didn't look back to the group.

"You idiot!" Mianyu slapped the back of Lumei's head, and she yelped.

"What?" Aikiro nearly growled.

"W-well. I mean, everyone knows that Yuta invites them over a lot. Jinyu said…"

You felt four heated gazes fall on you and you licked your lips, looking slowly back at everyone else. Your eyes flicked to Jinyu who was staring at the floor, zoned out.

"What do you mean, a lot?" Aikiro looked back at Lumei who shriveled under her glare, pressing closer to Jingxian.

"E-every Friday." She replied. Before you could look back to your fellow Sakuras, you flinched as Aikiro stormed over, dumping her wine all over your head. You exhaled in shock, closing your eyes to prevent the alcohol from running into them.

"You fucking bitch! You told them? I bet you brag about it." You grit your teeth, reaching for the nearby tissue roll, but Eiko snatched it from your reach, her own drink joining. The fruity scent of whatever kind of pre-mixed cocktail she was drinking stung your nose and your hair started to drip.

"H-hey!" Gyuri, the kindest one there, the maknae of Doyoung's bunnies, tried. She really did try, but… You winced and grunted when a hand grabbed the back of your hair, yanking your head back so were forced to look up at the owner. Keiho was the oldest, out of all the girls actually, but she was the most cruel. She was the most two-faced as well. Your eyes flicked to her drink, expecting her to dump it on you as well, and your face fell. It was a bottled pina colada. Coconut. Everyone knew you were super allergic to it, couldn't even eat anything made in the same factory as coconut products.

"Hm, I wonder if you would like the taste of this?" Keiho took a sip before looking at the label on the bottle and she let go of your hair just long enough to let Eiko take over.

"Wait, Keiho-" Mianyu stood then, trying to go forward. Before she could get very far though, Jinyu grabbed her wrist, halting her. No one but you seemed to notice Gyuri slip away from the group and out the door. You prayed she was going to get help. Your heart was pounding, you were scared, legitimately. This wasn't a joke, not a game anymore. They were seriously out to hurt you. Keiho swirled the bottle a bit, and let it tip slightly, a drop falling from the mouth and landing on your cheek. It didn't take any more than five seconds for your skin to start itching, and the girls around you could see the skin already starting to redden, following the path of the drop before it landed on the floor. You tried to wiggle free at that point, out of Eiko's grip, but the final Sakura, Yumi, sat behind you in the chair, holding you in place. She giggled, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Should I tell them about Kun?" Her voice was so soft you almost didn't hear her. You froze then, eyes wide, looking toward Jingxian.

"She knows too, you know." Yumi whispered and then you saw the other woman smirk. The other girl still didn't let Mianyu go and help you. Aikiro kneeled then, joining Yumi in restraining you, her hand going to your face and pressing on your cheeks to force your mouth open. A tear fell from your eye, and you tried to shout, but Eiko's hand left your hair and landed on your throat. Not enough to cut off your air, but in just the right spot to silence you. Keiho swirled the drink again and was just about to tip it again, but she hesitated. Why? Your eyes met hers and she seemed to realize how bad it would be to do what she wanted, seeing the raising red welt on your face from just a drop. It wasn't like your tongue and throat would slowly swell shut, it could shut your body down faster than anyone could get help.

"Don't be a fucking coward." Jingxian snapped, slamming her wine glass down onto the side table so hard it sloshed from the glass. She snatched the bottle from Keiho, and she tipped it-

The sliding door slammed open, the loud noise startling her. The girls all looked in horror at the door, and you watched in terror as the bottle fell from her hand, the alcohol splashing onto you, and a swig or two fell into your still open mouth. You choked, trying to spit the liquid out, your mouth already burning, and the girls let you go as Yuta stormed into the room and straight to you.

"Hiyomi!" You spat more out, nearly tempted to force yourself to throw up…if you even could. Your mouth and face burned, your skin and eyes itched, and tears fell from your eyes as your head grew foggy. You were already wheezing, and Yuta was at your side immediately. A second person landed on your other side.

"Sit her up." You let Yuta move you, slumping back into him and watching blearily as the nurse brought the EpiPen down and injected the medicine into your thigh. You felt some relief at the moment, and you grew tired quickly but your breathing was still shallow. The nurse went ahead and injected the second shot and your body seemed to get enough relief that it wanted rest then.

"Hiyomi!" A third voice hit your ears and you blearily looked to see someone else dash in, heading for you as you fell unconscious.

 ~*~*~

You awoke to the sound of beeping, and distant voices. You blinked to clear your vision and it was clear you were in a hospital. You cringed, looking down at the IV in your arm…You really preferred it in your hand. You felt like you couldn’t bend your arm, and they had put it on your dominant side to boot. Groaning, you adjusted in the bed, your body and head felt heavy. The voices got louder; you could recognize one was Yuta's.

"They did it on purpose, everyone knows how allergic she is to coconut."

"I'm not saying what they did wasn't bad, but are you really okay with getting rid of your entire harem but Hiyomi?" It was another man, a voice you only ever heard in person once. It was the King.

"Father, if I had to pick only one wife, ever, it would be her. She was going to be my main wife anyway. I think having five of them is ridiculous anyway."

"Yuta-"

"I'm not the heir, anyway, so why does it matter?" You didn't hear a response if there was one.

"What about Jingxian and Jinyu?" Jinyu? She was there, but she hadn't done anything that you remembered.

"Get rid of them." Kun's voice was clear. And sharp.

"Didn't you tell me Jingxian was most likely your choice?"

"Not anymore."

"Jinyu too, then?"

"Wasn't it her idea?" Silence.

"Yuta, did what those six tell you not matter?"

"What?" Kun asked then, confused. You strained to hear Yuta's response.

"Yumi. She…she told me that Hiyomi likes you." Finally, your prince spoke. You heard the beeping of your heart monitor increase and felt it in your chest.

"Your highness, I found it!" A maid's voice joined, and you furrowed your brow, listening.

"There's a lock on it." What?

"Just snap it off." Your mouth went dry. Your journal. How'd she know about it? You were more than careful. Or so you thought.

"Did Miss Janyeon have the key to her lock box?"

"Yessir." Fuck. But, if the King requested, it wasn't like she could refuse. That was it. You were out. At least you didn't die.

"I knew all this." Yuta's soft voice was loud in your ears and your breath hitched. What?

"You did?" Kun and the King asked at the same time.

"She's careful. But I know her too well by this point."

"Why didn't you say anything?" the King prompted.

"She was mine, that's all I cared about. It was selfish, but… It is a bit worse than I thought." Yuta huffed.

"What do you want to do, Kun?" Their father moved on.

"It's up to her." It was hard to read his tone, and even in the other room, you could feel the tension rise just by the lack of response from Yuta.

"She's mine." His tone was harsh, you had only heard him angry one other time. Right before you passed out. It felt like minutes of silence passed.

"If that's what she wants." Kun spoke finally.

"I think we owe her a decision, since she went through such an ordeal. It’s impressive she kept it hidden so well, and didn't ever act on it, or act out against the other girls. I might not be around much, but your mothers are, and they tell me everything. She's brave and strong for all the shit the other girls put her through. For now, let's keep it hidden we all know, let her choose her next actions without interference. If she chooses Kun, what will you do Yuta?"

"If you love something, you gotta learn to let it go." His defeated tone made your throat clench. You didn't want to hurt him, you really cared for Yuta. You also knew that your feelings for Kun were borderline insane, if not straight-out irrational. It was infatuation, you weren't allowed to get close enough to him to call it love. You were starting to realize then, that it was probably Yuta's doing. Especially if he knew. Maybe that was why he kept you at his side if the others were around, you thought it might be to protect you from the other girls…

"That's a lot different than what you said three years ago."

"Fuck off."

"Yuta, if you allow her to choose Kun instead, you won't have anyone. It would look bad on me." their father pressed.

"If she leaves me, I'll abdicate." You gasped at that. Yuta was second born, even if he wasn't the crown prince, he was closer to the throne than anyone else. He was right after Taeyong, which would put him in a high position when the eldest became King.

"Yuta-"

"If Kun ditches his girls. If Hiyomi chooses you, you can only have her. She deserves the world, and you better fucking give it to her." You closed your eyes, a tear leaving your eye as you made your own decision. No matter how desperately you had wanted Kun the last four years, Yuta was willing to risk everything for you. You couldn't let him do that.

"Would it look bad for the third-born to have one wife?" Kun asked then and you clenched your jaw, the beeping on the machine picking up. You glanced at it, not sure how to read the numbers, worried if you got any more emotional it would set it off.

"I'm going to tell you boys something that no one else can know. Doyoung already requested that he only marry Gyuri. He's tired of dealing with the girls' drama. Ten doesn't care much for an actual marriage to anyone. Taeyong is willing to have the harem if he's king, since it was the deal for the imperial alliance. He already chose Sooyoung to be the crown princess. I remember when I was your age, all of the crap the girls did to each other, the backstabbing, the gossip. The only girl I've seen that hasn't played into any of it was Hiyomi. Even your mothers love her. If she chose Yuta, what would you do Kun?" More silence.

"If that's what she wants-"

"What the fuck do you want?" Yuta spat.

"Honestly? I want to take her from you. I have for years. I know you said, father, to let her decide without us interfering, but… I'm not going to just sit by." The King sighed so hard that you heard it, your head was spinning trying to process everything.

"If she feels safe with it, I want to bring those six to her. Make them apologize. Hiyomi can decide if they will simply be expelled or if she wants to press charges legally." Your mind ran rampant in that moment. The king was letting you decide? All of your hurt and anger, resentment, jealousy; everything bubbled inside.

"I will have someone speak to Mianyu and Lumei as well. I have a hard time believing they had no part to play, or at least that they didn't know." The king finished and the conversation died, and you assumed they left. A door opened and you realized they had been in the room next door, sharing the wall that was behind your head. Your own door started to open, and you partially shut your eyes, pretending that you just woke up.

"Miss Hiyomi?" A woman spoke a nurse entered, with Yuta behind her. No one else.

"Yes?" You opened your eyes more, continuing the act.

"Do you know where you are?"

"The hospital." You hadn’t hit your head, why wouldn’t you know?

"It was good the nurse had those EpiPens ready, you had a very quick and severe reaction. We're going to keep you here overnight and if all is good, you can go back tomorrow." The nurse smiled and then left after taking note of your vitals, leaving you with Yuta. He sat in the chair next to your bedside, taking your hand in his.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like crap." You admitted and he couldn't help but sigh with a defeated smile.

"I would think. Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Could I have some water first?"

"Oh!" He got up and went to get what you requested, probably from a vending machine or something. You hated tap water… Yuta returned, and he helped you sit the bed up more as you took a swig from the bottle. You noticed his brow furrow, and his thumb rubbed over your cheek, it must have been a bit red still.

"What happened, (Y/N)?" You nearly choked, luckily you hadn't taken a sip.

"W-what?"

"(Y/N)." He reiterated and you closed the bottle, lip quivering a bit. It had been so long since you heard that name…

"I didn't know you knew my real name." you whispered.

"I shouldn't. But I asked." You had a hard time meeting his eye, so you just rested back, eyes closed.

"I was stupid. I was just reading, and they invited me over to play truth or dare." You huffed in annoyance, "I was suspicious immediately, but I went along with it. I…" You didn't want him to know you heard their conversation, or that you knew he knew about your feelings for Kun.

"I hadn't even been picked, but Lumei asked Aikiro about…about Jungwoo and Mark." You finally looked at him and he nodded, realization painting over his worried expression.

"It was clear that only I get the…privilege." You weren’t sure what else to call it.

"Aikiro got pissed and so she dumped her wine on me. Eiko dumped her cocktail on me and they with Yumi held me while Keiho threatened to make me drink her pina colada." His brow instantly furrowed, anger clearly taking over. But he was the quiet, scary angry type.

"Keiho hesitated, so Jingxian grabbed it from her and decided to do it herself…" You shivered a bit, feeling angry yourself. You never felt so mad. Sad, upset, hurt, frustrated? Yes. Not anger, not the rage you felt taking over.

"What about Jinyu?"

"Jinyu?" You played along. Yuta sighed.

"Apparently it was her idea. We decided that those six need to go. Father wants them to apologize first. He said it was up to you if they get expelled or if you want to get the police involved." You knew all of that already, but you were able to put on a bewildered expression.

"I can decide?" Your prince didn't say anything, and you wondered if he was thinking about his willingness to let you decide about him, or Kun.

"Yes, of course."

"What…what about you and them?" He didn't look at you and you wondered how he would word what you already knew.

"I only need you." He told you softly and you tried to hide your wince.

"Will you meet with them? You don't have to."

"No, I want to hear them apologize. And I want to tell them they're expelled. And I want to press charges." You turned your determined gaze to Yuta; he had never seen you look so harsh. But it made him smile.

"Good."

~*~*~

The doctors determined you were good to be discharged the next day and when you got back to the Sakuras’ dorm, it didn't look any different. You then remembered you wanted to be the one to tell them they were expelled, so you got to. The rest of them weren't in there, but there were maids scurrying about in their bedrooms, packing up their stuff.

"Hiyomi!" You turned as the head handmaiden came in and her hands went to your face, looking you over.

"You poor child." She sighed after you told her in detail what you went through.

"I'm sorry I had to help them find your diary." She pulled the journal out of the top of her hanbok, the lock had been broken off.

"It's okay." You took it from her, "did you look at it?"

"No, child. I know how to respect someone's privacy." You nodded in thanks, and she left to attend to other duties and so you entered your own room. Nothing had been touched, at least it seemed that way, but you still checked. Finding everything was in line, you got changed into something a bit more formal for the rest of the day. Looking in the mirror, you put on the brown and black plaid jacket that matched your skirt. Adding the beret of the same pattern, you pulled it further back, then readjusted your thigh-high socks. After, since you had about an hour to kill before you were supposed to confront the girls, you rummaged through your things. Many of your nicer accessories and little trinkets were from Yuta. Your mind went back to the conversation you had overhead nearly three years prior. Plucking the familiar book off your shelf, you looked over it, the spine was wrinkled from many read-throughs and the signature was in a slightly different spot than the original. It was your favorite book, and it made sense why Jingxian targeted it, but how did she know? Probably Eiko… You then looked at your leather satchel, you used it constantly, and you had nearly forgotten that apparently, Yuta hadn't got it for you. Did Kun really get it instead? Or did he suggest it? Get it for Yuta to give you? You didn't know. The other little gifts started to leave a sour taste in your mouth, making you wonder if he had lied about any of the rest. Your glass paperweight in the shape of a cat went missing, and supposedly a maid found it in your laundry, so he brought it back. A set of manga you liked had a limited edition only sold in Japan that he got for your birthday. But…he hadn't been in Japan when they were on sale. Kun had been though. Letting your thoughts loop into the negative, you gathered all of your gifts, minus the bag, and piled them on your desk. The bag was a practical item, so it was allowed some grace, but you wanted to ditch the rest for some reason. Why did you feel so mad at Yuta? It wasn't like he did anything wrong, technically, he just continued to act like he didn't know about your feelings for his half-brother.

"Lady Hiyomi?" A soft voice called after a knock on your door. A younger maid had come to escort you to a sitting room where you were to meet with the girls. Swallowing the few nerves you had, surprisingly, you followed after her and entered the room. It was empty, no one else was there-

"(Y/N)." You startled, only noticing Kun as you got further into the room. He was sitting on the couch under a window, and you wondered why Yuta wasn't there. He looked gorgeous as always; his hair dyed a dirty blonde and slightly wavy, and he had on a navy and white letterman jacket.

"(Y/N)?" If Yuta wasn't supposed to know your real name, how did Kun? That didn't matter, you were there with him, alone. And he was coming toward you. That's when you got nervous, and you gripped your hands together to hide their quaking.

"Yuta told me. I…I needed to show you something before everyone else gets here." He pulled his phone from his back pocket, and you glanced up at his face to see his clearly upset expression. He tapped on the device, and you heard an audio recording start.

"Can you help me or not?"

Yuta?

"I can, but what's in it for me?"

Was that…Jinyu?

"I'll make it so you can leave. Get out of here." "What do you want me to do?" "Come up with the plan yourself but figure out a way for the other four Sakuras to get expelled." "Can't you do it yourself?" "Not without a reason. Public image and shit. I really don't care about the rest of them, I just want Hiyomi. Can you do it?" "Probably. You wanted me to drag Jingxian too, right?" "Please. She's gotten on my last fucking nerve. She has to know about Hiyomi and Kun, why else would she be such a bitch?" "I know that's it. What was the last thing she did again?" "Something petty, poured bleach on her favorite dress. I got her a new one and she didn't even notice, but…" "How many things have you replaced?" "Like seventeen or something crazy. Those are just the ones she doesn't know I did, too." "You know, if you weren't my cousin, I wouldn't do this." "Bullshit, you know that's not why. We're only second cousins." "I'm serious, Yuta. I couldn't care less about the others." "Even Kun?" "Kind of hard to like your future husband when you're a lesbian."

It was clear there was more to the recording, but he cut it off. You were silent for some time, trying to process everything you just heard. You stumbled and Kun quickly pocketed his phone and reached out to stabilize you, then led you to the couch.

"Did…did Yuta know what the plan was?"

"I doubt it. But…it still was partly because of him." You slumped against the back cushion, resting your cheek on it, mind swirling. Your hat fell from its place, and you just pulled it all the way off.

"W-what do you make of it?" You needed more information; your emotions were so turbulent you couldn't even decide for yourself what to feel.

"Well…I know Jingxian was such a bitch because I like you." He just straight out admitted it and your body froze, your default response. He must have noticed the jolt you gave as your body stiffened and his hand went to your chin, prompting you to look up at him. Being so close to him, it took your breath away, he was even more stunning up close. And his eyes were so gentle and warm, not the same sharp heat you normally got from Yuta.

"Honestly, early on I tried to get Yuta to let you go, so I could have you instead, but he refused." Kun sighed, then huffed with dry amusement, "I'll admit I'm a little crazy when it comes to you."

"Birds of a feather…" You mumbled and he let your face go and you just slumped against the couch again.

"You know how Yuta gets you two presents for your birthday?"

"One's from you, huh?" You guessed accurately it seemed.

"How-"

"A few years back, I overhead your friends in the hall. They said that you made Jingxian replace my signed book. I know my bag was from you. Looking at it now, those gifts make a lot more sense. They would be so different from each other. Yuta would get me a pretty set of earrings and a necklace, but then there would be a full book series. Or instead of nice shoes, it would be a galaxy print. The year-long pass to the planetarium?" Kun was more of an intellectual than Yuta for sure, he was the only one of the princes that went to college. That was part of the reason you liked him so much, he was more similar to you than anyone else there. You knew that even with the restricted amount of time you had around each other.

"How did you get that recording?" You asked when it seemed he was struggling to find a response. He glanced up at you, head still bowed, dirty blonde bangs falling over his brow.

"Jinyu sent it to me with a caveat. She made me promise that you wouldn't press charges against her. She doesn't mind the expulsion, would welcome it…"

"Did you know that she was…?"

"Yeah. She told me early on."

"Yes, it was her idea, but… Yuta prompted her, and if you promised her that, I'll respect it." Your expression hardened then, so quickly it made Kun raise his brow in surprise.

"I can't believe him. I know…" You swallowed hard, "I guess he did it because he loves me. Or that might be what he says, but for all this time…" You exhaled hard through your nose, brow furrowing.

"Yes, I want to get back at the girls even past kicking them out, pressing legal charges. They put me through so much shit for so long…And I shouldn't be this mad at Yuta, but… I want to get back at him too." Your last sentence was much quieter, you felt ashamed of your rage toward him, but that recording just bubbled everything over. You looked up then, fully to make eye contact with Kun.

"I just…I don’t know how. Help me?" The other prince hummed, leaning into the back cushion himself, looking pensive.

"I shouldn't be as sadistic as I want…" Your phone alarm went off then, meaning the others would be coming rather soon.

"Think on it, I'll go with what you plan." You told him, standing to adjust your clothes. Stepping over to a mirror, you put your hat back on, fixing your rumpled hair as well. The king was coming too after all. As you primped, Kun stepped up behind you so you could see him in the reflection as well. He wasn't any taller than Yuta, but that did still put him nearly a head taller than you since you weren't in heels. You gasped, watching his arms wrap around you from behind, his cheek pressing against the side of your head. The black fabric of his sleeve smelled amazing, like him of course. Your heart started to beat so hard you were sure he could hear it, maybe even feel it where his chest met your back.

"Tell me, what does Hiyomi mean? Do you know?"

"Something with sunlight and beauty." You had learned Japanese in your training, but that didn't mean you knew name etymology. Yuta had mentioned it before though.

"How do you like Yuhua?" You assumed it was something similar…was he already thinking of picking a different name for you? Honestly, it was the next best after your birthname.

"Perfect." You whispered and nearly whined when he pulled away abruptly, the door opening not even thirty seconds later. Your posture immediately corrected itself, and you bowed your head as the King entered, followed by Yuta, then the six girls were escorted in by a few of the royal guards. Though, they looked more like federal agents…

"Sit." One of them ordered and the clearly dismayed girls followed. There was still evidence of mascara running and their faces were blotchy and red. They weren't in their fancy clothes either, having been dressed in clothes similar to the uniforms worn as trainees. Plain pleated skirts and button ups with a cardigan. For once, you weren't the plainest dressed one in the room, and you felt more smug than angry looking over them.

"Come here, child." The king prompted and you stepped to his side at his prompting, head still bowed to avoid looking at his face. You didn't notice the glare Yuta had sent Kun's way when he realized he had arrived there early. And that he had access to you without your prince being there as well.

"Tell them, Hiyomi." He motioned with his hand, and you turned to face them fully. They were clearly shocked by your cold gaze, and your eyes met Jinyu's. She looked significantly less nervous, and it was clear she was putting on an act.

"Expel them, please, your highness." The five other girls had various reactions, all forced down and if glares could kill, Jingxian would succeed in her mission.

"Of course. Now, you six. Apologize." The King's tone was hard, and the girls shakily stood and moved to face you. They clearly didn't want to do what followed, but they had little choice. They fell slowly to their knees, and bowed low, foreheads on their hands pressed to the floor. You barely registered the clearly scripted words they spoke, and you turned to look over your shoulder at the princes. Your gaze first went to Yuta, and it was clear he had no idea that you knew everything. He gave you his classic smile, but it just pissed you off then. You then looked at Kun and he gave a subtle nod.

"Jinyu can go." You then noted and the King was curious why you only let her go, but he allowed it. He knew there was something unspoken since Jinyu seemed to sag in relief as she left.

"We'll tell them the rest, father. Would you mind leaving us to it?" Kun stepped forward and his father turned to look back at him. They exchanged something unspoken through their gaze.

"Very well." He nodded and he left along with the guards, who stayed stationed outside the door as it closed.

"Hiyomi?" Yuta stepped up closer, but you ignored him, going to where the girls had sat back down. The other Sakuras looked a bit more nervous, but Jingxian was steaming. All of her hard work over the years, desperate to get whatever wealth and power she could, gone. The sneer she shot you pissed you off, hand flying up without thought, smacking her hard enough to snap her head to the side. She just sat there, not looking back at you. Not sure what to say to them, you turned and looked at Kun who was in the same spot, a little behind his slightly older brother. A smug look fell on his face, and he stepped around the other prince, shedding his letterman-style jacket and laying it on the table. You wanted to swoon as he rolled the sleeves of his white button-up, so they bunched above his elbows. Paired with his watch and the ring he had on his index finger, it was so little, but so hot. Yuta must have noticed how your expression changed, recognized it even, but you knew it was different than anything you gave him.

Kun sidled up next to you and he raised a brow, silently asking if you were ready. You nodded so slightly, with a tiny hum and you gasped as his hand grabbed your chin. The move was a bit rough, but your gasp was of delight, not fear or shock. His eyes were still warm, and he had the sexy grin back, your thighs twitched along with your core.

"You know, it’s a shame that only Yuta could get a girl so good." His grip softened, and he cupped your jaw instead. The room was so quiet you could hear Jingxian's jaw clench and made her teeth grind against each other. Kun's face was so close to yours that you felt his breath on your lips.

"Kun, what are you-" Yuta started, coming closer.

"But it's also a shame that she got stuck with him." His tone was incredibly patronizing, derisive and you just took the chance to bask in his presence and attention as he pulled his phone back out, stepping back slightly. He still had the audio clip paused where he left it off before, and you saw then it was half-way through.

"At least you only have to deal with one guy. He also knows. I have to get it up for four other sluts I couldn't care less for."

 The four other Sakuras gasped, and your eyes flicked to look at Kun's phone, but his hand at your jaw turned you back to focus on him. It was hard to get mad with the following audio while looking over him, so close to you. You didn't even care to look and see what Yuta's expression was. He had frozen, just behind his half-brother, almost scared to move.

"Viagra?" "No, I just pretend they're Hiyomi. Hard to do though. Eiko's so fucking annoying and won't shut up. Sounds like a bad porno. Aikiro still doesn't know what the fuck she's doing even after training for a year and more. Yumi has no stamina and is selfish to boot. Keiho-"

Your eyes flicked to the phone again, waiting for him to finish. It seemed he paused to take a drink or something, because the audio kept progressing.

"Keiho is a fraud. She thinks I don't know that she goes to Ten's little orgies or whatever. I know she's slept with half of the guard too."

All the girls looked at Keiho then, her cheeks that were bright red with anger were now horribly pale.

"She acts like she wants stuff vanilla, loving. I know she can only get satisfied with two cocks in her."

Kun shut it off then, only a few seconds left but you had heard enough. How dare he criticize Keiho when he was the one that brought his friends in to fuck you at the same time? Did he think it would be flattering that he only thinks of you when he's with the others?

"Hiyomi-" Yuta tried to start, and you wanted to push around Kun, smack his stupid pretty face. But you trusted the other prince to come up with the best thing he could. He already tore down the girls, that much was obvious from their faces and the devastated looks they sent Yuta.

"Despite his supposed love for you, sweetheart, it’s a shame you don't feel the same." Since it wasn't directed at you, and it would still be incredibly hot if it was, the smug sadistic grin he had riled you up all the more. Kun hummed, prompting you to respond and he chuckled at the dazed look you had.

"No, I don't." It was like he was some kind of drug; your thoughts were foggy, and you needed more of him. He had taken out the girls, they looked like all the fight had been ripped from them, slumped on the couch. It had hit Yuta too, but not enough, not yet. Though, Kun needed to finish Jingxian first.

"Do you know how hard it was for me? From the moment I saw you, I wanted you. The only reason I was going to choose Jingxian was because I hate her. I couldn't live with myself if you weren't my wife, my princess, but I didn't want to hurt the other girls. They didn't deserve the hurt like her. She's a horrible human being and she seemed all the worse compared to you, (Y/N)." Hearing him say your real name again did it, you were head over heels in love with him and you thanked whatever higher being finally graced you with something good. All of the shit you had put up with came to the best moment of your life, knowing Kun wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Even if you both knew it was crazy, even sick; at least you could be lovesick together. The final hit to the girls, hidden from Yuta since Kun blocked you from his sight, was the extremely gentle kiss he pressed to your forehead, followed by him gently brushing his nose over yours.

"Guards, take them to the police." The prince let your chin go, just enough so he could step back so as not to shout in your ear. The door opened and the suits came in, quite literally hauling the girls away, Jingxian now just as broken as the others.

"Only one left." You whispered when Kun came back to you. He shifted where you stood with a hand on your lower back, making you visible to Yuta then.

"Show him you're mine." He told you and it seemed your minds were linked. At graduation, each girl would kneel before the prince and swear their loyalty, almost like being coronated. You sank to your knees, but you looked up at him instead. The normally practiced display of reverence for a girl's monarch was corrupted by the desire you looked at him with, and he you. You were submitting to him as a man, not as a higher-up, nor a prince. He grinned when your hands gripped his belt, not moving to remove it, but the implication was clear-

"You fucker." Yuta shot forward, hand burying in Kun's shirt and yanking him away from you. You flinched back as Kun was pulled away and you quickly stood as the brothers stared each other down.

"You lost, Yuta. Move on, she's mine now. Ready to abdicate?" You flinched back with a gasp, hands covering your mouth as Yuta's fist moved toward his brother's face. Kun deftly moved his head the little bit he had to for the blow to miss.

"Wait!" You tried to weasel your way between them before the elder landed a punch on the younger. Even though they were the same height, Kun was bigger, Yuta had a hard time gaining any kind of bulk and he looked like a twig next to the other prince. While he wasn't the most muscular man you knew, he was outright perfect to you, and it was clear he was strong because Yuta barely budged him with his tug on his shirt, he moved with the pull. That was beside the point… You got back at Yuta, what happened was enough, you could tell by the hurt etched into his face. Your anger had immediately dissipated, a better solution hitting your mind. Neither of them knew you had heard the full conversation the day before, but that didn't change that you had.

"Don't abdicate. You already are losing your harem, but you told Kun to only have me, right?" Both men were clearly shocked that at your words and you took the chance to shove Yuta off, standing in front of Kun, clearly in a show of protection. Like you could really do anything…

"Y-yes." Your prince's voice was soft and rough. He didn't deserve how much you really wanted to wreck him. Your rationality had kicked in, logic taking over, he was already defeated.

"We’ll tell the press that the other four turned against me because I didn't want to be involved with you. Turn it on me. You take the three from Kun, and I go to him. You're second born, you can't just give up those rights-"

"(Y/N), I don't want to be a prince without you as my princess." Your chin quivered a bit at his tone, his eyes glassy.

"And I don't want to be a princess without Kun as my prince." You countered. You needed to break his heart for him to let you go. You didn’t turn to look at the other man even though Yuta's eyes flashed to look over your shoulder.

"Take the other three, add two more from wherever, do whatever. Wouldn't you rather move on and find someone else than love me and know I don't feel the same? If you love something let it go? Do you think I want to be restricted to you, when I love someone else?"

"You love him?" You didn't respond to his question. It wasn't the real definition of love, it wasn't that pure, but you had some twisted loyalty to Kun that you never did for Yuta.

"Do you love me?" You pushed back. You weren't sure, it seemed somewhat like you were a trophy, a luxury item that he might adore, but…

"You're supposed to be mine." He didn't answer the question. Not directly.

"You don't love me, I’m just your favorite. You liked that I didn't fight the other girls tooth and nail just to get your attention. You liked the challenge. If you really cared you would have told me all the shit that Jingxian did, and the others, I'm sure. You never even bothered to learn who I was, getting me pretty, girly things. You played up the romance but never did anything I liked with me. I might have been in your bed the most, but I wasn't in your heart."

"And you were in Kun's?" Yuta nearly spat, not trying to defend himself, because you were right.

"What's her favorite thing?" The man behind you cut in and you turned to look at him. You didn't answer, genuinely curious if Yuta knew, because he never acted on it…

"Books."

"Wrong. Space. She goes out at night to watch the stars. All her books are science-fiction. Her favorite sweatshirt is of the milky way and if there's ever a special event at the planetarium, she's there." How did he know all of that? The other prince was silent, clearly not sure what to do or say next. His eyes went back to you, and you couldn't meet his look, and stepped closer to Kun.

"Favorite animal?" Kun continued.

"Dogs-"

"Goats. She just can't have one as a pet, she asked. The keychain on her bag is a goat. So is the plushie she takes with her on out-of-country flights. She tells people she likes dogs because it's more accepted.”

"Her favorite color is dark purple because it looks like the night sky. She loves snow but hates rain. She's the only girl fluent in all four languages. She hates moths and loves fireflies." He kept going and you wondered how he knew all that. Though…it was all things that were more or less common knowledge, things your friends knew. It wasn't creepy, just observant, and it should be things Yuta knew. But, based on his face, he really didn't.

"He loves planes. He took lessons to learn to fly one. He loves cats but doesn't have one because Lumei is allergic. He wears a lot of black and white, but he always uses a blue pen because he likes blue too. He hates cold weather; he knows how to cook, and he even is scared of butterflies." You smiled softly, realizing all the things he knew about you, you pretty much knew about him as well. It was things you overheard while near him or figured out by watching him from afar. After an uncomfortable silence, you finally looked up to meet Yuta's gaze.

"I'll go talk to father. I'll… if you ever break her heart, I'll fucking kill you." The prince exhaled, seeming to get some kind of closure and he stepped closer, reaching for you. Midway though, his hand stopped, and his eyes flicked to the side, at your earrings.

"They're moons." He noticed.

"Yes." Your voice was quiet, and the prince dropped his hand, cast one more look to his brother, and left. Watching him go was…a relief. You thought you might feel something else, be a little sad, or hurt, but you just felt at ease. As you turned to face Kun once more, he was already there, his hands at your jaw and he pulled you to him, kissing you so hard your teeth clashed against his. The force of him pulling you into him knocked your hat off, falling to the floor. You whimpered, hands holding his wrists as you try to meet his fervor. Your butt hit the table when he turned you with his leg wedging between yours. One hand left your jaw to cup the back of your head, blunt nails scratching your scalp. The other hand found its way to your waist, then his arm snaked around your middle, helping you up to sit on the table. Kun finally pulled away, both of you panting and your dazed eyes met his sharp ones.

"Fuck." He sighed, leaning forward and resting his forehead on your shoulder. His hands rested on the table, holding him up so he didn't rest his full weight on you, and he stood there for a while. You pressed your cheek to his soft hair, basking in him finally being so close to you. Slowly, you brought your arms up, shaking, and wrapped them around his shoulders. The hug was quickly returned, Kun enveloping you back, and you pressed your face into his chest. With your ear over his heart, you closed your eyes, listening to it beat, soaking in the scent of his cologne. Neither of you really wanted to pull back, but never-the-less did so. He took your hands in his, bringing them up so he could kiss them.

"I need to talk to father as well, sweetheart," his hand cupped your cheek, thumb rubbing your soft skin, "wait for me."

Due to formalities and legalities, you weren't Kun's right away. Because of all the rules, you both were moved into a guest house more or less, still on the royal campus, but not one of the official palaces. You had to wait for nearly a week as the ministers convened, trying to figure out what the hell to do. Taeyong remained the heir and was the only one that kept the harem as promised. Yuta didn't abdicate, but he didn't rebuild his harem either. He ended up moving to Japan then, becoming the ambassador for that part of the empire. Kun adopted most of his roles and rights, and it was well received by the public that he wanted to marry for love instead. He wasn't the heir, so the ministers didn't mind too much. Ten had some of his privileges revoked when it was revealed how debaucherously he was living, but he didn't mind. Doyoung too gave up his harem, minus Gyuri. A lot of things changed fast, but it was welcome. Finally, once everything was official, you stood in the middle of the foyer of your new home, watching people mill about as they moved the final things in. Looking around, you startled when someone snuck up behind you, hugging you.

"It's done, sweetheart." Kun nuzzled behind your ear, and you bit your lip, giggling.

"Once everyone leaves, I'm going to take you, since your mine now."

Part 2: Up Close (Smut)

Master-Master List

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[salvadorbonaparte]

Oh god I went looking for the nazi blog and holy shit. They call themselves "reichblr"????? And started added a disclaimer that allegedly they don't support nazism to their newest posts, but the older posts end in a "if you don't like it, your problem lol"????? Wild but also kinda happy that I never came across this genre on my own on here 😳

I saw them earlier and wanted to have good faith and thought perhaps they're a historian and this is a propaganda archive because it is actually really important to be aware of how propaganda works and to study history and I thought well tumblr is a weird place for it because it's so easily misunderstood and reaches the wrong audience. But then I saw the tag and what kind of blogs interact with them and I was like ah. Bad.

[irithnova]

I kind of joke that Mongolia likes Danmei/Chinese theatre (a major guilty pleasure of his) despite some of the very obvious anti-Northern themes but there's some historical basis to this I swear.

The Mongols loved theatre. When the Mongols came into contact with theatre it was almost like an entirely new form of entertainment was opened up to them. Yes, the Mongols had storytelling and songs and whatnot, however full on theatre was something different.

Sechin Jagachid and Paul Hyde, experts on Mongol history, wrote about how there is "no evidence... of dramatic production bring presented in Mongol society prior to or during the early Empire period." Their further comment explains quite simply why this was. - that it is difficult to say the least to attempt a stage play when you are nomadic.

The Mongols were so fond of theatre that in 1214-16, Muqali, one of Genghis's generals, was conquering the area of what when then become Manchuria, and two towns managed to hold out against them. As expected - a majority of the population were killed, with the exception of people who could be useful to the Mongols (the Mongols often spared useful people) such as craftsmen, artisans, and even actors.

So theatre must have been introduced to the Mongols prior to this date because why on earth would they spare the actors of all people alongside engineers and craftsmen?

John Man, a British historian with Mongol history as one of his specialities, imagines such a scene where this introduction could have occurred a few years prior to 1214, in 1211, when the Mongols first invaded Northern China. Perhaps there was a town that had the sense to surrender to the Mongols, and the Mongols, wanting some relief from being on campaign for so long, demands that they entertain them.

The villagers, desperate to please the invaders, puts on a show, curtains fluttering open and candles illuminating the scene - and almost immediately the battle-worn army is enchanted. The show they put on is the most famous theatre play in China during this time, one of a young woman - Zhaoqun, is sent to be married off to a Khan of the Xiongnu, and mourns for her freedom.

Despite the Xiongnu being portrayed as the villains, the Mongols are smitten by the storyline and root for the girl, and the Mongol fascination of theatre is born.

Though this is a scenario that John Man imagines may have likely happened because of the fact that the Mongols went around sparing actors a few years later (so they must have been exposed to theatre somehow to enjoy it enough to spare actors), it's my headcanon something like this definitely happened and Mongolia was gripped almost immediately despite the obvious portrayal of the Xiongnu (who he considers an ancestor) as the villain. It was entertaining and that's all the mattered.

It was the Mongol demand for threatre that surged a boom in Chinese drama - Khublai as a patron of the arts made sure his people were entertained. There were two bureauxs in the Mongol court - one for music and acting, the other responsible for staging court rituals and plays.

In fact, the Yuan era is considered "one of the most brilliant genres in Chinese literary history" according to Chung-Wen Shih, a historian of Chinese drama. Pre-Yuan, not a lot of theatre plays were preserved, because simply put they weren't considered literature and actors and actresses weren't particularly held in high regard.

On Mongolia liking Chinese theatre despite the anti-Northern sentiment - Mongolia was definitely aware of the themes in some of the stage plays and even Yuan stage plays managed to subtly shade the Mongols despite the Mongols being their overlords.

One of the most famous Yuan playwrights (Guan Hanqing) best plays, named "The injustice to Dou E" centres around Dou E, a village girl who, funnily enough, faces a number of injustices. In the end, heaven hears her prayers, and her wishes against those who have harmed her are fulfilled when she is finally executed.

This wasn't just a play about a heroine figure - this was a metaphor for the Mongols abuse of China, and the injustices China faced because of the Mongols. When Dou E is abused like how the Mongols abuse China, heaven is sent into chaos and the corrupt rule. When she finally dies, heaven delivers justice. Poetic when you think about it as the Mongols were finally expelled from China in 1368 and in turn, lost the mandate of heaven.

I think Mongolia did pick up on the shade that was snuck into these stage plays - but again, he really didn't care because of how entertaining he found them. Unfortunately this bad habit of enjoying stage plays that depicts him as the villain has lead to him in the modern day to enjoying TV shows and danmei and what not that does the same - so he uh. Tries to keep this guilty pleasure of his under wraps but people know about it at this point lol. It's not like he purposefully goes for plays and shows that do that (I mean, I sure hope not) but he's not exactly boycotting the ones that do - and there's an awful lot of them that do lol.

China probably wanted Mongolia to pick up on the shade that was being thrown at him in some of these plays or to be straight up offended at some of them. Imagine his deep annoyance when he'd find the brat chortling at the play rather than being outraged at the attempt at offense.

To think this all started when he watched that (1) play all those years ago...

Also fun fact: The Mongols love for theatre was so prolific that when the Chinese finally booted them out, the newly established Ming Dynasty actually temporarily banned theatre in their attempts at wiping out Mongol influence in China.

So yes. Mongolia still loves Chinese theatre - and yes - it's a major guilty pleasure of his. It's definitely something China brings up when they argue lol.

TL;DR, Mongolia is a loser

[mswyrr]

re: Ballad and histories of musical genres

Why does Lucy Gray have that accent? A lot of Latinas and people of color have Southern accents! Why is she singing "country" music? The division of folk music in the US into some exclusively white/WASP genres is a racist invention of the 1920s - musician and historian of the topic Rhiannon Giddens has done deep research into that which has raised awareness on it:

A final explanation for Johnson’s absence from the historical record may be the most significant. It involves not his reputation but that of the music he played, with which he became literally synonymous—more than one generation of Southerners would refer to popular dance music simply as “old Frank Johnson music.” And yet, in the course of the twentieth century, the cluster of styles in which Johnson specialized––namely, string band, square dance, hoedown––came to be associated with the folk music of the white South and even, by a bizarre warping of American cultural memory, with white racial purity. In the nineteen-twenties, the auto magnate Henry Ford started proselytizing (successfully) for a square-dancing revival precisely because the music that accompanied it was not black. Had he known the deeper history of square dancing, he might have fainted. (source)

And - specific to Latine identities in the southern US - popular Mexican and Mexican American genres like corrido ballads (which often were highly critical of US imperialism and racism! Telling stories of resistance to Anglo/white supremacist authorities) and Ranchera songs are country music.

Corridos were fast-paced ballads that told culturally significant stories. To the sound of a guitar or a bajo sexto, a twelve-string guitar popular in the Southwest, corridos recounted epic events and retold the story of the cultural conflicts between Anglos and Mexican Americans... Corridos not only provide a graphic record of the injustices that Mexican American suffered—including land loss, cattle and horse theft, and lynchings—but also celebrated outlaws who stood up to defend the honor of the Mexican American community. (source)

Not only is the current rightwing concept of "country music" on highly commercialized radio deeply manufactured, white supremacist, anti-labor justice and a rejection of the kind of pro-equality, class and racial equality conscious music of some earlier white musicians like Johnny Cash, but the whole history of US folk music has been whitewashed and divided up dishonestly.

Lucy Gray played by Rachel Zegler makes total sense! I get why people wanted to see a Roma actress cast, but the people saying it's "weird" to see a Latina with a Southern accent singing country music are just not aware of this history.

I really like these genres and I find this history fascinating and powerful, so the way Collins has written a love letter (or love ballad?? lol) to them and their diversity is exciting and delightful to me.

[waitmyturtles]

This is something I'm actually very curious about, if we see an influx of omegaverse-themed bls in the next year or two post Pit Babe, would you consider adding it to the OGMMTV watchlist?

STARRY, hello friend!

I'm gonna tag @lurkingshan, @bengiyo, @grapejuicegay, and @neuroticbookworm for awareness as I write this, because I've relied on them for background on omegaverse, and I am in no way a fully-informed historian on this sub-genre and its fan fiction origins. And if any omegaverse fans/historians out there are reading this -- I do very much encourage your feedback, as I'm here to learn!

The short answer to your question, Starry, is no, ha. I have been strongly encouraged to NOT add it to the official list/syllabus, but I do plan on giving Pit Babe a heavy honorable mention in my Old GMMTV Challenge wrap-up posts later this year. Here's why.

Because I'm still so new to BL -- what I'm trying to get/understand, from a macro contextual perspective, is how Asian BL became the dramatic genre home to this sub-genre, besides the fact that BL conveniently asks for same-sex male couplings in its art. Are there omegaverse works, outside of fan fiction AND outside of Asian BL, that exist? I don't think so? But I'm not sure, I'm not an expert here.

Another reason why I'm gunshy about omegaverse is its underpinnings in misogyny (the link is only a list of personal blog essays, but ones worth scrolling through), which is not something I'd necessarily want to celebrate vis à vis the OGMMTVC. (@grapejuicegay, you've helped me to understand the history of this.)

One question that I've tossed to friends -- and, funnily, I ask this as a cishet mom with my rights intact -- is whether or not a male/male pregnancy is something that actually gets celebrated from an LGBTQ+-rights perspective. If I am correct (and I may not be, so fandom, please chime in here), omegaverse works have often ignored the potential reality of trans-male pregnancies. This strikes me as quite the oversight from an LGBTQ+ rights perspective -- and as a mom, I'm very aware that at least in America, health care options are improving for trans men who would like to explore pregnancy. So.... could we celebrate this potentiality in art, generally speaking?

I don't know that omegaverse is the answer to that question -- likely that's a heavy no. But there's a lot that I don't know about omegaverse, the macro conversations about rights implications, and so on.

What I do know is that the misogynistic overtones of omegaverse's origins concern me enough to not get to into this at the moment. But I am absolutely paying attention to the hype around Pit Babe, and would love to know if Pit Babe is actually going there by way of potentially engaging this conversation about misogyny... or not.

Starry, thanks for bringing this up! And I welcome thoughts from around the way, because I know that Pit Babe is bringing this up for a lot of folks. I'm hoping to hear from some folks, because I'd love to refer back to this conversation when the OGMMTVC projects ends (...for now!) later this year.

[BTW: I'm also aware that the potentially first (?? -- I need a fact-check on this) omegaverse anime from Japan, Tadaima Okaeri, is airing later this year.]

[fideidefenswhore]

Hi there,

So I attended one of Claire Ridgway's events recently called the Men Behind the Throne. Talks were on the Tudor monarchs' advisors. Caroline Angus did a talk on Cromwell (she has a new book out on him) and in it she claimed that Anne Boleyn hated Cromwell from the beginning. Whereas, he for his part was always looking out for Catherine and Mary's interests. Apparently, he was also very loyal to Wolsey and played a big role in Thomas More's downfall. Is there any evidence to back up the idea that Anne hated Cromwell? In recent years more historians seem to be leading towards the belief that they weren't so chummy. However, I am not an expert on where most historians stand on this topic. She sounded like she was pushing the belief that anyone who supported COA and Mary: good. Anyone who supported Anne: bad narrative.

Whereas, he for his part was always looking out for Catherine and Mary's interests.

Yeah, that view has been a semi-recent development...it doesn't seem to have been the unequivocal belief of their advocate, though (depending on which moment in time, of course):

Cromwell has always given me to understand that he is much devoted to the Princess; nevertheless, I have found no evidence of it, except words […] [April 1535]

And as far as I'm aware, this author doesn't doubt the veracity of Chapuys' judgements (especially when it comes to Anne Boleyn), but, you know, selective reliance on his dispatches would not be anything singular to her in this genre.

Diarmaid MacCulloch, John Guy, and Julia Fox are the most recent to espouse that view (but about with the Boleyns, in general, not solely Anne).

As for the Wolsey factor...again, evidence is mixed. Missing from the Mantel narrative, for example, is that Thomas Winter, Wolsey's son, wrote that Anne, as Queen, spoke "very kindly" to him. Now, this doesn't negate the likelihood that Anne had hated his father and hardly mourned him (it doesn't seem like it was her credo to spite the family of her opponents; for example the Duchess of Norfolk was her adversary, but she highly favored her daughter, the Duchess of Richmond); but it is compelling insofar as the view that those affiliated with Wolsey unequivocally blamed her for his downfall and misfortune.

Yes, there is evidence, but it's mixed at times. They were battling for influence over HVIII, they were battling over the best ways to steer reform*, etc.

*[...] Crumwell, Wrotisley, and certain others, who, as report says, hated the Queen, because she had sharply rebuked them and threatened to inform the King that under the guise of the Gospel and religion they were advancing their own interests, that they had put everything up for sale and had received bribes to confer ecclesiastical benefices upon unworthy persons, the enemies of the true doctrine, permitting the godly to be oppressed and deprived of their just rewards. 

Usually the 'smoking gun' for that theory about their contentious dynamic is that according to Cromwell, via Chapuys, Anne had said she'd like to see "his head off his shoulders", but context is sometimes missing, I don't often read this parsed as thoroughly as I believe is its due:

Cremuel said lately to me that were the Lady to know the familiar terms on which he and I are, she would surely try to cause us both some annoyance, and that only three days ago she and he had had words together, the Lady telling him, among other things, that she would like to see his head off his shoulders. "But," added Cromwell, "I trust so much on my master, that I fancy she cannot do me any harm." I cannot tell whether this is an invention of Cromwell in order to enhance his merchandise. All I can say is, that everyone here considers him Anne's right hand, as I myself told him some time ago. Indeed, I hear from a reliable source that day and night is the Lady working to bring about the duke of Norfolk's disgrace with the King; whether it be owing to his having spoken too freely about her, or because Cromwell, wishes to bring down the aristocracy of this kingdom, and is about to begin by him, I cannot say. (June 1535)

The source here is Chapuys, and the chain of report means this exchange is thirdhand: Cromwell is telling Chapuys of it, which means we can't exclude the possibility that either Cromwell is exaggerating (to ingratiate himself to Chapuys, 'the enemy of my enemy' etc) or that Chapuys is likewise (to urge Charles V, as he often does, to do anything from push for excommunication to invade England, based on evidence that Anne&Henry are extremely hated by everyone save "their party"-- or maybe even members within-- and thus any action taken against them will only increase his popularity, power, prestige, by gaining the support and gratitude of many, etc).

And Chapuys' own judgement of Cromwell's account seems cautious: he admits he can't tell whether or not this is true, and he admits that if it is, it's very contrary to the popular perception of their dynamic (of Cromwell as Anne's "right hand").

[granvarones]

“here is a message to the super hoes”

whew, name a more iconic and sex-positive opening line of a hip-hop song released in 1998 - during the genre’s golden era? well, maybe i am being hyperbolic, but almost every lyric in “jimmy” by the pioneering new york hip-hop group boogie down productions is a foundational text.

music enthusiasts, critics, and historians all agree that the late 1980s was a golden era for hip-hop. artists like public enemy, NWA, eric b. & rakim, and boogie down productions (BDP) were all reshaping the genre’s landscape by utilizing powerful storytelling for social commentary and activism.

composed initially of KRS-one, d nice, and scott la rock, BDP emerged in 1987 with their explosive and critically acclaimed debut album “criminal minded.” the impact of BDP’s hard-hitting style of rap narrated the realities of life in the bronx during the ronald reagan era was immediate. sadly, BDP was dealt a devastating blow in august 1987 when member scott la rock was murdered, just months after the release of the album. he was 25 years old.

by the release of BDP’s sophomore album “by all means necessary” in april 1988, the group’s music had transitioned towards a more socially conscious and political commentary. inspired by Black revolutionary malcolm x’s philosophy of self-determination and empowerment, the album tackled topics ranging from racism, poverty, education, health, and the AIDS crisis.

“cuz now in winter aids attacks

so run out and get your jimmy hats”

written, produced, and performed by KRS-one, “jimmy,” short for “jimmy hat,” was a metaphor for condoms and was revolutionary for its time. amidst the track’s frenetic beats and melodic rhymes, the song delivers a crucial public health message about safer sex, prevention, and the responsibility we all have to protect our health and the health of our communities.

before the 1980s and the emergence of AIDS, condoms were primarily viewed and recommended as a means of preventing pregnancy, with their role in preventing sexually transmitted infections (s) receiving less emphasis. but by the mid-1980s, there was a collective effort by health organizations, activists, media and popular culture to normalize condoms and conversations about safer sex as a form of STI and HIV prevention.

“do me a favor, wear your hat”

while not officially released as a commercial single, "jimmy" was a standout track from the "by all means necessary" album and garnered radio play in the summer of 1988. just a few months after US surgeon general c. everett coop sent 107 million copies of a pamphlet titled understanding AIDS, to every household in the US. this effort remains the most extensive public mailing in history.

boogie down productions’ “jimmy” is a pivotal moment in hip-hop history, demonstrating the genre’s capacity to engage with pressing societal issues. through their innovative approach to music and social commentary, BDP set the tone for artists like bell biv devoe, ice cube, salt n pepa, and TLC to use their platform for advocacy and/or safer sex education.

“jimmy,” with its candid message about safer sex and HIV prevention, served as an essential intervention in 1988, utilizing hip-hop to reach young people. the song remains a powerful reminder of hip-hop’s role in public health awareness and the genre’s enduring impact on pop culture.

[ifuckinglovestvincent]

St. Vincent on How Her Love of Podcasts Led to Narrating Audible’s Rock History Series — and Why She Relates to Skynyrd’s Episode as Much as Bowie’s

By Chris Willman

Annie Clark, better known to most as recording artist St. Vincent, first took a step out of rock ‘n’ roll and into “voice work,” as it were, when she wrote and recorded a compelling original audiobook, “Words + Music,” for Audible in 2020. Now she’s taking a step further into the realm of pure narration as the host of a new six-episode podcast series, “History Listen: Rock,” which premiered on the Audible service in January. She didn’t write the series, which produced by Double Elvis, creators of the lauded “Disgraceland” podcast, among others. But f you’re a fan of St. Vincent’s through material like “Daddy’s Home,” there’s a good chance you’ll take to her intonations as she speaks into life some well-crafted mini-histories of rock, from the R&B of the ’40s and ’50s through folk, psychedelia, punk, metal and (the arena where she’s picked up her three Grammys) alternative rock.

Variety spoke with her about her love for the medium and some of the genres and artists covered in the new series, which can be found here.

Was doing the autobiographical audiobook a few years ago the thing that was a gateway drug into narrating something that’s not about yourself?

No. I mean, honestly, I probably listen to more podcasts than music, so it’s just a genre and a medium that I am intimately involved with and intimately familiar with. So, you know, there’s certain things I’m aware of that, if I’m listening to a podcast, I cannot abide — like a dry mouth. I stay very hydrated. You’ve gotta have that Poland Spring, just right there at the ready.

No, really, I listen to so many podcasts, and I was also a fan of “Disgraceland” and some of the other Double Elvis things — that brand, shall we say, of podcasters. And I love narrating, and I’d love to do more of it. I was excited when they asked me to do it, and I learned things too, definitely, doing the podcast, so for sure that’s a two-thumbs-up for me.

It is a medium that I’m kind of obsessed with. I mean, I just consume an insane amount of them. But not the murder ones anymore. I’m good on on female pain as entertainment for a minute. That’s stopped feeling OK, personally.

Does developing a speaking style differ from the work any singer does to find his or her own voice?

It’s a bit more like acting. The only tool you have at your disposal is the tone of your voice, is the inflection, is the cadence. So in that way, it was a discovery, a little bit, using my voice just.as a different kind of instrument. I found it really informative. I think everybody remembers the first time they heard their own voice back, on an answering machine or something, and went, “Ooh, I sound like that?” In terms of the actual narration part, I had a couple hiccups there. I was like, “Oh, no, just go a little lower.” The podcast voice is a little lower than my, natural chit-chat. It’s interesting to discover that. I was lucky enough that I was able to record it by myself in my studio, so I got to experiment and play and not worry if I messed up on some of the tongue twisters, and to make sure that the meaning of the words was never lost in my inflection.

I didn’t know if you were the kind of person who reads a lot of music biographies or just picks things up through other means.

I’m more of a person who has the kind of stories that you swap in the studio. And of course those are stories that don’t necessarily have a journalistic rigor that these do. But I definitely liked reading the Miles Davis autobiography by Quincy Troupe — I know thst sounds funny, to say that his autobiography was by Quincy Troupe. I found that very, very fascinating, and I recently read the Sammy Davis Jr. autobiography. But for the most part I kind of like to engage with it in a more organic way than necessarily reading autobiographies.

I’m not a historian. I am obviously very knowledgeable about what I know. But this is, I think, a nice overview for people who are fans of rock music, from a very casual fan to someone even more invested. Because you get the real stories and kind of the guts and the glory of the different scenes, and also so much of the roots of rock and roll. There’s so many things that it’s sort of crazy that they were even able to distill it down to what they were able to distill it down to. I think it’s a good, fun listenand overview for people who really care or are just casual listeners and just want to have a little bit more context.

Did some of the episodes appeal to you more than others? People would think, well, of course, she has a gravitation toward punk or alternative or glam, and maybe less so, say, Southern rock…

No — I mean, hey, I learned “Sweet Home Alabama” on the guitar when I was 12! I know it well. I’m well-versed in the classic rock staples.

Is there anyone that jumps out at you from the early days of rock ‘n’ roll as someone especially interesting or a kindred spirit?

Of the stories that we covered, I’d say there is no Prince and there is no Bowie without Little Richard. I mean, he was so slick, and such an incredible performer, and to be playing with gender and sexuality and all of those things at that time was just pretty staggering. You don’t have rock ‘n’ roll without Little Richard, that’s for sure.

How about the folk era?

I’m more a fan of the politics of that man-on-the-street style of songwriting than I am necessarily aching to put on an Arlo Guthrie record. But I appreciate its point in history.

There is an episode on what is described as psych-rock, and having seen your “Daddy’s Home” tour, where it feels like you mixed in some of that along with the soul-revue aspects, it seemed like you might have some affinity for those late-’60s sounds of early Pink Floyd and such.

I think harmonically, it really started to just blow wide open in the ’60s, whether it’s the Beatles or the Beach Boys, and then add a healthy dose of acid into that, and people were like, “I want to see colors that don’t exist yet,” you know? To me that music is very visual. I mean, you go, like, “This guitar’s melting, and then those drums are dripping, and then the bass is all swirling around with it…” I’m sorry, I’m going poetic with it.

Since you mentioned the Beach Boys, you just performed one of their songs at the taping for a “Grammy Salute” special (airing later in the year). How was that?

It was really sweet. Brian Wilson looks great, he really does. “You Still Believe In Me” was the song I sang, and I’ve always loved that song so much. It’s amazing to get to sing the song for the person who wrote it, to say thank you. I mean, I’m not supposing that’s some big gift. [Laughs.] “You’re welcome, Brian Wilson!” But just to honor and get to kind of do your best in front of the people who made it is very special. I did one last year when I got to sing “Court and Spark” for Joni Mitchell [at the MusiCares person of the year dinner]. It’s very moving personally.

Going back to the episodes of the podcast: You mentioned earlier that Southern rock is in your wheelhouse, or at least was part of the wheelhouse of growing up.

Yeah, it totally is. I mean, I’m a kid from Texas. I know the Skynyrd catalog. I’m a guitar player — you know what I mean? I know “Free Bird.” So of course that was just part of the canon. And Duane Allman, I always loved his playing. So I know it, yeah. To me, the sort of current Duane Allman is Derek Trucks. Jesus Christ, what a beautiful player. You see the sort of Allman to-Trucks kind of line. I’m a guitar player who doesn’t care that much about guitar, but I’m just truly just like, what a transcendental player, Derek Trucks. Such a voice. Oh man, what a stunning player.

Glam is something that people automatically assume is part of your background and what informed you. Did anything from that episode bring up any particular love of yours?

Yeah, I mean, I think I always have just thought of Mark Bolan as cool. I didn’t realize that there was such a major kind of backlash against him where the British press really kind of went after him. It’s Mark Bolan — what’s the problem? And I know he died young anyway, but it made me quite sad for Mark Bolan. As far as the Bowie glam era, obviously that is unbelievable and iconic. For me, I’m a kind of Berlin Bowie gal, if I had a gun to my head. I’m kind of a “Low” gal… or a “Station to Station” gal, shall we say.

But I mean, just the theatricality of it… it’s the age-old question of: What are you selling? Some people are selling you authenticity, and then some people are selling you a dream, selling you magic. And I’d rather be kind of in the latter camp. We’ve talked about this with “The Nowhere Inn” [her satirical film that deals with issues of authenticity]… So, I sell the magic.

Finding authenticity in showmanship is one of rock ‘and’n’ roll’s great tricks. And certainly something you’ve been able to do is write emotionally meaningful songs, presented in a way that takes you somewhere else other than basic street reality all the time.

I mean, that’s the call, to just absolutely go for the heart and go for the jugular. But with some acid dust kind of sprinkled on top, it’s more fun, you know?

Anything about punk, metal or alternative, as explored in this podcast, you would want to speak to?

Yeah, one thing from punk that I will say… You know, again, it’s not a complete history of anything. It’s really entertaining, bitesize chunks of a trajectory. But I wish we could have talked more about bands like the Slits or Siouxie and the Banshees or the Raincoats. So if anybody sees this article, also go check out the Slits, Siouxsie and the Raincoats, et cetera, et cetera, forever and ever.

Last summer you finally wrapped up several rounds of touring behind the “Daddy’s Home” album. Any quick promises you would want to make anyone for 2023?

It’s gonna be a great year. Gonna be a great year. I’m in my studio right now.

[daughter-of-inklings]

WIP Intro : The Book Keeper ☆.｡.:*

♥ genre: fantasy, adventure, faerytale retelling

♥  tropes:

faerytale retellings, like all of them, lost princess, found family, child soldier, childhood friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, morally grey antagonist, dragons (!!!)

♥ status: drafting

♥ type: book 1 of a trilogy

♥ themes:

the weight & consequences of choice, exploring duty v. free-will, healing and growing from trauma, chosen family is as important as blood family, eugenics (portrayed negatively), fate as agency

♥ synopsis:

Book Keepers have been around since time immemorial, created by the gods to act as historians over the worlds they’d created, guarding over their stories from the shadows. The title is passed through blood, the rules to follow simple: 

Let the story stay its predetermined course.

Do not intervene or interact with either story or characters.

Maintain order, at all costs.

Death is inevitable for some, victories assured for others, confining them to their fates for the sake of balance and tradition. The nobility have grown negligent and slack, knowing their children will suffer no curse that cannot be broken, no torment that a kiss or sentient animal cannot undo. The residents have grown hopeless and complacent, constricted to playing backdrop in others’ lives and providing all that is needed of them.

There came a time, however, when the Keeper was lost to the carelessness of the bloodlines, leaving the stories to their own. Stolen from their crib underneath the crown’s nose, the newborn Keeper-to-be disappeared without a trace, nowhere to be found. Bewildered, the characters sought to create their new free-willed paths free of restraints only to find that every choice made led to the same place again, again, and again. Without the Keeper’s magick to change their fates, all remained as before, any hope gone as more and more characters failed to find them. 

Almost two decades passed before word of a new Keeper reached them. A mysterious child from beyond the forest not yet aware of the powers she possesses. Young, without the slightest idea of her role; the only hope they have. 

♥ associated tag on this blog : #gasalea the book keeper , #gasalea

[mushroomhattime]

Befriending Loki

-Fluff with teasing

-mentions of poison, age difference

-1282 words

-If you’d like an x reader version of this comment below or pm me and i’ll post one

________________________________________________________________

"Jarvis, are all books present?" She questioned the A.I. System that she had come to adore as much as her father did. "Your favorites, Twilight, New Moon, and Breaking Dawn have been taken out Miss. Stark." He responded sarcastically, but monotonously, like always. "May I ask by whom?" An amused smirk framing her face as she scanned the walls for her desired section. "By Mr. Odinson, Miss. Stark." Jarvis replied. Her smile reappeared as she thought about what Thor might think of them. The only reason she had those at all was because she refused to believe a book was bad until she'd read it herself. And unfortunately, the negative hype surrounding the series was anything but false. "Aha, here we are." She climbed the ladder up to the section full of outdated vocabulary and skimmed through titles she thought to be appropriate. "No, not Edmund... Norton... Wyatt... maybe Drayton," the mutters continued until the target was found. "Ah, Shakespeare! There he is!" She started snatching plays off the shelf and placing them into a makeshift basket she made with the front of her sweater. "Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, The Taming of The Shrew, Julius Caesar, and Comedy-of-Errors. That should keep him busy for a month or so." She clasped the hem of her shirt in her teeth to keep the contents from spilling out and slid down the edges of the ladder before hurrying out the door and to the elevator. The trip to his cell was unnecessarily long, especially when she stopped to make tea, which proved to be difficult when refusing to put down all the books. But nevertheless, she prevailed and took the reading material and thermos' to the fiftieth floor and into a section of the laboratory. Eventually, she stumbled into the room where his cell was and began the hike over to the door. He watched her closely, highly amused by her state. Her stomach was visible from pulling up her sweater for the books, and under both arms were cups that he found unfamiliar and suspicious. "What are you doing, mortal? You look ridiculous." His face exerted smugness, but that was never unusual for him. "I'm being nice to you, so you damn well better appreciate it, Asgardian." She commanded sarcastically, struggling to type in the password and give a thumbprint as she did so. Thankfully, the door opened without any further obstacles and she crashed in, the entrance closing behind her. "Here." She placed the tea gently into a corner and dumped the literature into his lap. "What is this?" He questioned, examining each cover of the five. "Those are called books, love." She cracked a small smile and plopped down in front of him, sipping her tea. "I'm well aware. What I was insinuating was why have you assumed I could possibly appreciate Midgardian literature?" He much enjoyed teasing her and waiting impatiently for her to throw it back in his face with her witty comments and comebacks. "Because I've listened to the way you and Thor seem to formulate sentences, and the vocabulary you use. It is remarkably similar to the regular speaking patterns of Midgardians in what historians call the Elizabethan Era. These are all written by a man called Shakespeare, who lived in England over 400 years ago, he wrote plays, 43 to be exact. Nowadays we've dubbed your speech 'Ye Old English', an unofficial term used to describe the language difference from then and now, also more formally known as Shakespearean... is that enough information, or shall I continue?" She rambled satirically. "I think that is enough for now." He stated, flipping through The Taming of the Shrew carelessly. "I didn't know what genre you preferred, so I grabbed a variety. I've read all of these ones and I think they're nice. I thought you would like them more than modern books." Her nerves set in, regretting her act of kindness, but she wouldn't dare show them.

He glanced over at her, studying her awkward actions. Her sleeves pulled over her fists, which were resting uncomfortably in the small space on the floor between her crossed legs. He was about to express his thanks when she flung herself to her feet dramatically. With haste, she bent down and snatched the second thermos, then slid on her belly over to him. He hummed a tiny laugh as she reached out her arm with the cup to him. "I made you tea, drink it and shower me with compliments about how good it is." She said. "Yes of course... but are you sure it isn't poisonous?" Loki gave her a knowing glare and a smile.

"I am sixty-five percent sure that it isn't, but you should be fine. That is unless Asgardians are prone to floral allergies." The woman raised her eyebrows sassily at him.

"I am a god. Gods do not have such pathetic internal weaknesses." He scoffed and sipped his tea (after fumbling quietly with the lid in confusion during the majority of the conversation.)

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say Magic-Man... You know, you don't HAVE to act as if you're SO above me all the time. You and I both know that we're equal in intelligence and technically the same age." She had changed her position while talking to have her legs straightened and propped up against the wall with her back and head on the floor next to Loki.

It was obvious that the god was unaware of one of those two presented points because he nearly spit out the tea everywhere. "You and I being the same age is literally impossible. I am thousands of years old and you are eighteen." He looks down at her skeptically; wiping the dribbled tea with the back of his hand.

"Wouldn't it only make sense to assume these two different realms of existence that are billions of lightyears away from each other probably have differing concepts of time? If not because of vastly contrasting histories, then possibly for different distances from their respective suns and moons? How long is a day in Asgard vs. Earth?" She talks with her hands and makes eye contact while still on the floor, happiness emanating from her because of the obvious irritation building in his face. Loki does not like to be shown up or proven wrong, albeit he's never lashed out at her for doing so for some reason.

"Even so, how do you know that we're the same age on earth terms? there are no specifics about that in your kind's Norse literature." He was quite curious now; this could really end up working in his favor.

"Well, it was excruciatingly easy when I had Thor on hand to tell me the average life expectancy of an Asgardian/Norse god and how old you were and the general synopsis of your guy's calendar. You compare those to a human's, specifically American's, then you come up with a medium level equation that can be checked by the two live-in geniuses and the supercomputer that encompasses this building. You, Loki Laufyson, are roughly seventeen and three-fourths old, which makes me approximately 3 months older than you in Midgardian years."

Loki had never seen her look so smug in his life and he despised it. "I despise you." He growled, almost a little too realistically.

"Doubtful, you looove me." An attractive and confident air surrounded her.

"I know." He murmured quietly, not quite ready to have this conversation with her.

"What was that hun?" Back to her considerate, usual tone.

"The tea is lovely, Eliza." Loki toned himself down to a sweeter, softer tone that only she and his mother were ever allowed to hear.

"Hell yeah it is."

[orreanintrepidness]

PUBLIC VS PRIVATE KNOWLEDGE

Public (Known by most, if not all)

Alistair is the newest Champion in the league, albeit without formal recognition, and is the only one to specialise in double battles

He is publicly known to reside within Realgam Tower, what was once set to be the most modern battle facility, now Orre's league headquarters.

Alistair moonlights as a musician, one that produces Power Metal music, a nice genre, but one he's cornered rather well with heavier covers of music originally produced by Roxie.

He's known to OPENLY carry a personal firearm, and a big one at that. Alistair carries a large, .50 caliber handcannon on his hip at all times (big iron on his hip goes brrrr)

He's known to have practically have adopted every kid in his home-town of Pyrite, often having them taken to Realgam in order to play baseball within the absolutely gargantuan space that is the tower's colosseum, in order to keep them off the streets and thus, out of trouble.

Alistair openly took part in the fight against Neo Team Plasma while he was in Unova.

SEMI PUBLIC (Known to most Orreans, or just those who are aware enough)

Alistair, startlingly so in fact, fits the description of a prolific murderer and assassin that was active during the years Team Snagem was at it's height, but not enough so to be outright accused of being said killer. (I mean he WAS but still-)

Alistair's nickname "Sandrunner" is actually the name of his bike, alas, the locals still call him it out of it being more recognisable than referring to him by name to outsiders

Most, if not all, maps of the numerous desert ghost towns in Orre can be traced back to Alistair, who has taken the lead in trying to locate and mark them for future investigation. He may be no historian, but the past is of importance, even to him

He's, to a degree, become the law itself in Orre, with the incompetence of the police in Pyrite, Alistair is known to handle matters of crime and punishment himself, though, for the most part, is extremely hands-off in matters beyond people committing anything but the worst crimes.

Lots of former members of Team Snagem make up his league staff, they remember who their old lieutenant was and gravitated right back, even if they aren't breaking the law now.

He was known very well to be one of Team Snagem's Admins, albeit, one that wasn't seen amongst the others very often.

NOT PUBLIC (known by people he's told and maybe people involved.)

Alistair WAS IN FACT the killer he fits the description of, serving as Team Snagem's own remover of problems, Orre's own Jack the Ripper, "The Desert Mincer" as he was quite taken with dismemberment.

Any scene that had a bag of stardust left tied to the victim's ankle was in fact his work.

He has two sisters, though neither continue to openly use the surname Hagen, as both disowned their brother after he abandoned them to save himself when he fled Team Snagem.

While looking for ghost towns, Alistair is also often scouring the desert for abandoned Cipher facilities

Even though Cipher and Snagem as a whole are mostly gone, Alistair is still fighting his own, private, battle against the remnants of both organisations that he previously worked in service of and as part of respectively.

[navree]

https://at.tumblr.com/navree/does-aegon-ii-wants-to-be-king-in-the-book/vuh0fivit443

I really love your insight on Book!Aegon and he is really the most interesting and compelling green to me in the book. It's kinda sad how they turned him in the show, they wanted to humanization him at first but then they decided to ruin it all by what they did in ep8&9 . I really wanted his line "what kind of a brother...." to be in the show. Also what do you think about Criston in the book? I get the impression that he is very ambitious and had really close relationship with Egg otherwise he won't be able to convince him to take the iron throne

Thank you so much for the compliment!

I actually like a fair bit of what they've done with Aegon in the show, like his ten million different issues, I just wish they kept the Mushroom to a minimum so we'd get less weird and unnecessary shit. But I would have also liked to see some more of the book characterization (well, "characterization" we don't know whether any of this is factual or not) and I would have liked to see some more of how he was convinced to accept the crown when he was already willing to let it go to Rhaenyra, especially when in the show he's got some level of genre awareness and is terrified of what the Iron Throne is going to do to him, as well as that eventual conversation about how he needs to do it for his family. Given that we've seen Aegon being really to put it all on the line for his family in the show, the way he was willing to take the heat on Driftmark for Aemond and Alicent's sakes, it would have been some good character moment too.

Criston's a bit of a hard read in the book, since the book is mainly focused on the Targaryen histories and as such, non-Targaryens, even heavily featured ones like Criston Cole or Alys Rivers or Torrhen Stark or any of the Conquest-era Martells don't get a lot of characterization. Which I think is understandable, if I'm a fifteenth century historian writing about, like, the York Plantagenets, I'm not going to devote significant time to also telling you about the personality of Eleanor Butler or even the Duke of Buckingham, not in any significant ways. Criston's story in the book is also incredibly different than in the show; for instance, he's already been the Lord Commander for nearly ten years when Viserys dies, whereas Harrold Westerling was still alive and kicking in the show and only retired out of disgust, rather than just dying of old age. There's also the fact that a lot of time stuff was flipped around to accommodate changed ages and whatnot, along with just Criston having been given a lot more character to work with; things like his Dornish hereitage, his commoner's backstory, his religious leanings, those are all show originals, none of that is mentioned in the book.

Criston doesn't seem to have been personally ambitious, not in any way that would have been remarked upon, but determined to advance the cause of the Greens and ambitious for them. Like in the show, Criston has a falling out with Rhaenyra (the circumstances in the book are murky) and then later becomes Alicent's sworn shield after the death of Joffrey Lonmouth, though in the book he's probably more profoundly grateful to her and tied to her because the death was actually an accident, and Alicent was the only one who seemed to point out that this is the risk people take when they enter tourneys and that Criston shouldn't be punished just for having won and just because Joffrey decided to ignore that risk. He's a much more personally loyal man to Alicent than his show counterpart, which is saying something because show!Criston is like.......extremely loyal to Alicent, I watched episode 9. He also seems to have filled a mentor type of role to her kids, though less overtly fatherly than in the show, given that Viserys was something of a present father in the book (leagues more than he was in the show) and just the fact that he just became attached to Alicent later in their lives than he did. But he was still close to them, the book makes a note of the special attention he paid to Aemond and how he helped him become a swordsman after he lost his eye, even before he was Lord Commander, and as you said, he was able to both figure out where Aegon was after Viserys died and lighted on the right way to convince him to take the crown. It does speak to at least knowing what kind of person Aegon was and what he valued enough to go against his initial ideals. Aegon also names Criston his hand, and Criston is trusted enough to be a major battle leader and also spend significant time with Aemond during his regency.

Criston in the book comes off as less of an intrinsically nice person and less good intentioned and proto-Jaime than he does in the show (I've discussed what I think of show Criston as a show character here); he seems snider and more motivated by spite and just wanting to win against people he dislikes than anything else, but there's still a nobility in him and a goodness in how he treats his fellow man (not just his apparent affection for Alicent's children even in the book, but also surrounding the circumstances of his death and how it happened, which I talked about here). Ultimately, I agree with Jaime that Criston Cole embodied the best and the worst of the Kingsguard: steadfast and loyal and uncompromising in the face of duty, unquestioning in the orders given and unflinching and determined in his role as protector and guardian and fighter; but also capable of subsuming his entire identity to those he serves even at the potential destruction of the realm, vicious not just on the battlefield but off of it (given the personal dimension to his issues with Rhaenyra influencing his role in crowning Aegon), and how ultimately his duty as Alicent's shield and supporting her put him on the path to being the Kingmaker and using positions intrinsic to the Kinsguard, like the Lord Commander being on the Small Council, to influence events and politics when he shouldn't have done so. Very different from his show character, but I don't think less interesting or less worthy of interest and further analysis.