#lotus flower wall art

[reene88]

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[ejanthon]

lotus watercolor wall art

[dreamerwitches]

Full wnk trailer analysis lets go (p1)

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

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

The background is pretty hard to decipher

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

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

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

Madoka has no ring

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A stretch but the crockery reminds me of Candeloro's

Its the same three colours

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

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

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

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

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

Walpurgis?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Also hnnngghhh concept movie?????

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

[twelve-forfend]

Well, I did say this was a multi-fandom blog... Alright, let's do this.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House

(and the symbolism therein, as recorded in the donghua)

I was snooping through the establishing shots of the Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House, and had to laugh as I always do at all the gay symbolism that managed to sneak its way inside. But then I looked a little closer, and was floored by just how much passive storytelling was packed into background assets. I talked about it at length over discord, and at the urging of others decided to make a shareable post on social media as well.

First, the shots which first piqued my interest in this topic years ago:

Shen Yuan transmigrates into the stallion-genre webnovel entitled 狂傲仙魔途 (translated as Proud Immortal Demon Way). The author's and his own usernames are dick jokes.

Notice the chrysanthemum vase, the cock vase, and the stallion statuette.

The stallion and cock are obvious nods to these jokes on their own, but for the uninitiated, the chrysanthemum is a symbol of gay sex between men, as the asshole itself is often euphemistically referred to as a chrysanthemum. This should have been Shen Yuan's first clue that not all is as it seems here! These are the personal quarters of Shen Jiu — the original Shen Qingqiu!

But let's move to the main room you first walk into upon entering the bamboo house.

There it is: the writing on the wall.

As the Peak Lord of strategy and the scholarly arts, Shen Qingqiu would naturally have calligraphy and paintings hanging everywhere! So let's break it down.

On the top we have 道㳒自然 ("Dao Follows Nature"), which comes from a Dao teaching by Laozi (founder of Daoism) meaning that life, death, the entire universe, the heavens and earth and everything outside and inbetween, all follow a set of laws referred to as the nature of things. Although unrelated to the Buddhist couplet below, it's certainly relevant!

Originally hanging in right-to-left order, I've arranged them to read left to right here to make things easier to keep track of. The calligraphy reads 西方竹葉千年翠；南海蓮九品香 and is a couplet commonly found in Guanyin temples. My classical chinese is not as strong as I'd like, but this translates roughly to "The bamboo leaves in Paradise are green for a thousand years / The fragrance of lotus flowers in the South China Sea is as thick as 9 sticks of incense."

The character 西 for West is used to denote the destination of enlightenment/purity: the buddhist Paradise (think Journey to the West). The South China Sea is where Guanyin was born. Upon the Lotus flowers is where Guanyin is commonly depicted as sitting. The "9 sticks of incense" though literal can also refer to the 9 tiers/grades of reincarnation lotuses with the 9th tier being the lowest, meant for those who in life committed the most evil of crimes — the 4 parajikas — and who can only manage a sincere Amitabha recitation 10 times and no more than this.

To put this in context with Shen Jiu (the same jiu as in 9/九), the 4 parajikas committed by the 9th Tier Lotuses Reborn (officially entitled the Lowest of the Low) are:

Sexual Intercourse

Stealing

Murder

Claiming attainments of stages of pure mental concentration that have not been achieved (in other words, rushing or lying about your cultivation/enlightenment, or maybe even becoming a Peak Lord without having formed a golden core beforehand).

From what we know in the context of the novel, Shen Jiu is innocent of at least the first of this parajikas, but the overall view of Shen Jiu in the eyes of others in the story is that he is guilty of them all. This calligraphy can be seen as a condemnation or a reminder for the character Shen Jiu, who even as the Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu is widely thought of as a scum villain and the lowest of the low.

Phew! That's a lot to unpack.

But if you turn your gaze to the original screenshot, you'll see to the right that there's a vase painted with a blue bird. This vase appears in several rooms of the bamboo house, and seems to be the image of a qingniao (青鸟; lit: Qing bird, wherein 青 can mean blue/green/clear-but-brackish black).

These qing-coloured birds are messengers and foragers of the Goddess-Mother of Paradise (Xiwang-mu 西王母, the "west/paradise" character from before, lit West-King(unisex)-Mother). They're a highly intelligent species who are exceptional in song (a good representative for Qing Jing's scholarly arts and pursuit of qin!), and the older ones might learn to speak human tongue. As a subspecies of luanniao (鸾鸟 lit: luan bird), they're thought to be related to The Phoenix and indeed thought to be the lifetime/samsara just before being reborn as a Phoenix.

If given to a "master" they don't like, the qingniao may refuse to pass messages or sing until they're set free, but if they do get along with you then they're loyal to the end.

As a point of interest, the Qing generation of Peak Lords uses the character 清, which is 青 ("colour of nature; brackish black, blue, green; young) + the radical for "water," resulting in the meaning of clear (as in water or heart; see-through); distinct; quiet (as in still); just and honest; pure; to settle or clear up; to clean up, expunge, or purge.

And as a bit of trivia, Liu Qingge's sword Cheng Luan 乘鸾 means "to ride the luan, take flight on the back of a luan." (Relevant, because the qingniao is considered a subspecies of luanniao).

With the Lords of both Qing Jing and Bai Zhan referencing this bird, I really wonder about its significance! It's spawning plenty of theories and headcanons for me.

Heading back outside for a moment, you'll find that in the Quiet Pool (清静小池 qingjing xiaochi (yes, the same Qing Jing the peak is named for)), there are lotuses, and on land there are flower shrubs which are either wide-petaled chrysanthemums (gay bottom jokes ahoy), or a type of peony, the king of flowers demarcating wealth and prosperity. Either way, a blossom fitting of our Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu!

My one regret is that I cannot get a clear shot of the fan hanging on the wall to try and translate the calligraphy on it. If anyone can snag one, please tag me! I also couldn't translate the paintings with poems hanging in Shen Qingqiu's bedroom (it's just too small and blurry for my bad eyes to make out). If I make another post attempting these things, I'll append them to this initial post in an edit afterwards.

[shixcherie]

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

◂◂ Part one of Little Miss Strategist series ▸▸

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

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

☆ Day 28 : Impact Play

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How much longer could this go on ?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What was it that made him so distant ?

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

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

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

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

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

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

But as always, he was alone.

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

You couldn’t stand it anymore.

And your curiosity got the better of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now, they accepted your answer.

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The moment was short-lived though.

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

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

“What ? Why ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get out,” Mingi snarled. “Now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why had you offered yourself? You had no idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to tell you something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

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

© ShixCherie.

[whencyclopedia]

A Brief History of Egyptian Art

Art is an essential aspect of any civilization. Once the basic human needs have been taken care of such as food, shelter, some form of community law, and a religious belief, cultures begin producing artwork, and often all of these developments occur more or less simultaneously. This process began in the Predynastic Period in Egypt (c. 6000 - c. 3150 BCE) through images of animals, human beings, and supernatural figures inscribed on rock walls. These early images were crude in comparison to later developments but still express an important value of Egyptian cultural consciousness: balance.

Egyptian society was based on the concept of harmony known as ma'at which had come into being at the dawn of creation and sustained the universe. All Egyptian art is based on perfect balance because it reflects the ideal world of the gods. The same way these gods provided all good gifts for humanity, so the artwork was imagined and created to provide a use. Egyptian art was always first and foremost functional. No matter how beautifully a statue may have been crafted, its purpose was to serve as a home for a spirit or a god. An amulet would have been designed to be attractive but aesthetic beauty was not the driving force in its creation, protection was. Tomb paintings, temple tableaus, home and palace gardens all were created so that their form suited an important function and, in many cases, this function was a reminder of the eternal nature of life and the value of personal and communal stability.

Early Dynastic Period Art

The value of balance, expressed as symmetry, infused Egyptian art from the earliest times. The rock art from the Predynastic Period establishes this value which is fully developed and realized in the Early Dynastic Period of Egypt (c. 3150 - c. 2613 BCE). Art from this period reaches its height in the work known as The Narmer Palette (c. 3200-3000 BCE) which was created to celebrate the unity of Upper and Lower Egypt under King Narmer (c. 3150 BCE). Through a series of engravings on a siltstone slab, shaped as a chevron shield, the story is told of the great king's victory over his enemies and how the gods encouraged and approved his actions. Although some of the images of the palette are difficult to interpret, the story of unification and the celebration of the king is quite clear.

On the front, Narmer is associated with the divine strength of the bull (possibly the Apis Bull) and is seen wearing the crown of Upper and Lower Egypt in a triumphal procession. Below him, two men wrestle with entwined beasts which are often interpreted as representing Upper and Lower Egypt (though this view is contested and there seems no justification for it). The reverse side shows the king's victory over his enemies while the gods look on approvingly. All these scenes are carved in low-raised relief with incredible skill.

This technique would be used quite effectively toward the end of the Early Dynastic Period by the architect Imhotep (c. 2667-2600 BCE) in designing the pyramid complex of King Djoser (c. 2670 BCE). Images of lotus flowers, papyrus plants, and the djed symbol are intricately worked into the architecture of the buildings in both high and low relief. By this time the sculptors had also mastered the art of working in stone to created three-dimensional life-sized statues. The statue of Djoser is among the greatest works of art from this period.

Continue reading...

[ryin-silverfish]

Lotus Lantern: The Summaries, Part 1

I grew up watching the Lotus Lantern TV shows, both of which have a special place in my heart. However, this particular tale is kinda one that thrives in operas and modern media adaptations, while the written texts of the story remain mostly out of reach for average audiences, being compiled in an 1957 book named 董永沉香合集.

As such, I've decided to make an informal summary of all versions of Chenxiang's stories from this particular book and maybe some more, for anyone wanting to learn about Lotus Lantern beyond the TV show.

This series is a WIP; each post features the summary of a single version of the legend. For Part 1, it will be——

Chenxiang Baojuan("The Precious Scroll of Chenxiang",1847/1907)

-This story took place in the Han dynasty. Son of a rich landlord, the scholar Liu Xiang(刘向) was on his way to the imperial examination (which didn't exist in the Han dynasty, but okay), and decided to stop at the temple of the Lady of Mt. Hua(华岳娘娘) for prayers.

-However, she was attending a party in the Celestial Realm, and her attendants——ghostly judges and pawns——didn't know how to answer when Liu asked if he'd succeed in the imperial examination, so they just threw him a blank wooden slip (used in divinations).

-Feeling cheated, the scholar angrily swept open the curtain covering the goddess's idol, and was instantly charmed by her beauty, so much so that he wrote a poem on the walls asking for her hands in marriage.

-As King Zhou's story in FSYY has told us, this was a very bad idea. The Lady of Mt. Hua was not amused upon her return, and went after the scholar with a sword in hand, but was also instantly charmed by his good looks.

-After a quick confirmation from the Old Man Under the Moon(月下老人) that their relationship was, in fact, Fated to Be, she used her magic to create a beautiful mansion, then, a huge storm, to force Liu to seek shelter there.

-She proposed to him inside the mansion, and Liu Xiang was like “I'd love to, but I gotta go to my exams and take care of my parents back home, so…later?”

-The Lady took it with characteristic grace, by which I mean she kicked him out of the mansion, then sicc demonic tigers and snakes on him and forced him to come back.

-Anyways, they married each other, and the Lady gave him three treasures as tribute to the ruling emperor: a luminous pearl, a pearl belt, and a crystal bowl, before sending him on his way to the imperial examination.

-Unfortunately for Liu, a corrupt minister saw those treasures and wanted to take them for himself, so he falsely accused Liu of stealing and threw him into prison.

-Just when Liu was about to be executed, his divine wife saved him again by whipping up a storm; Liu cleared his name in front of the emperor, and all was well…but not for long. 

-The brother of the Lady of Mt. Hua is a guy called True Sage Xuanmiao(玄妙真君), but later, the text also referred to him as Erlang Shen.

-While at the Peach Festival, he teased He Xian'gu(何仙姑), one of the Eight Immortals, about her (nonexistent) husband, and she mocked back: "Well I don't have a husband, but your sister sure does! That's why she isn't at the party."  

-Xuanmiao got really mad, rushed home to fight his pregnant sister, and sealed her under Mt. Hua. She gave birth while imprisoned, and sent Chenxiang to his father via a ghostly official/Yaksha. 

-After learning about his mother's imprisonment, 12 years old Chenxiang left to pursue studies of the Taoist arts. He met the Gold Star of Venus, who led him to some divine pills and peaches that granted him superpowers. That wasn't quite enough, however, and when he went to fight Erlang, he was soon losing and being chased around.

-Luckily for Chenxiang, the White Crane Boy(白鹤童子), a divine messenger, was passing by and helped him get reinforcements; the "Eight Cave of Immortals, the Great Immortal of Penglai, the Mystic Lady of the Nine Heavens, Fourth Sister of the Hundred-Flowers"（八洞仙人、蓬莱大仙、九天玄女、百花四姐）. In return, the True Sage summoned legions of celestial soldiers, Sir Thunder and Lady Lightning(雷公电母), and the Four Heavenly Generals (Ma, Wen, Zhao, Guan, not to be confused with the 4 devarajas).

-The battle became so heated that it alerted Guanyin, who went and informed the Jade Emperor, causing him to send the Gold Star of Venus down there and order both sides to quit fighting. With that taken care of, Chenxiang cleaved open the mountain and saved his mom, but the imprisonment had done a number on her: her form was skeletal, her hair was a mess, her gaze was unfocused, and she was more or less catatonic.

-It would be really depressing if the story ended here, so the Mystic Lady of the Nine Heavens gave her a magical pill that returned her to full health, and the family went on to enjoy their happy ending.

[lizzisimss]

Phoenix and Michael’s Home

CC used (list below) Crick Cabana in Willow Creek 20 x 15 2 bed, 1 bath $109,504

This build is part of the Lizzisimss Save File.

Aira - https://www.patreon.com/airacc

·       2 Piece Painting

·       Bear & Mountain candles

·       Daisy vase

·       Dogi Pot

·       Mini easel

·       Mirror with stickers

·       Vanilla dish rack

·       Vanilla egg tray

·       Vanilla flower candle

·       Vanilla toaster

·       Vanilla utensil holder

ATS4 - https://sims4.aroundthesims3.com/index.shtml

·       Canisters basic

·       Kitchen rack condiments

·       Kitchen rack washing up

Brazen lotus - https://www.brazenlotus.com/objects-d... :

·       BG Coffee bag

·       SP13 Laundry made essentials

charly pancakes - https://www.patreon.com/charlypancakes

·       The Lighthouse Collection

·       Lavish Merged

·       Miscellanea Merged

·       Modish Merged

·       Selection One merged

·       Smol Merged

·       The candle

Evi - https://www.thesimsresource.com/artists/evi/

·       Hellenic wall E

felixandre - https://www.patreon.com/felixandre

·       Georgian Set

 house of harlix - https://www.houseofharlix.com

·       Orjanic Merged

·       Bafroom Merged

·       Baysic Merged

·       Livin’Rum Merged

·       The Kichen Merged

 harrie - https://www.patreon.com/heyharrie

·       Brownstone Collection

·       Country Collection

·       Halcyon Kitchen

·       Octave

·       Shop the look

·       Spoons

 Kiwisim - https://www.patreon.com/Kiwisim4

·       Block House

·       Piha

·       Surrey

 leaf motif - https://leaf-motif.tumblr.com

·       2202 Magnolia Bathroom

·       Aubrey Office

·       Botanic Boudoir

·       Calliope Bathroom

·       Devon Kitchen

·       Ivy Hallway

·       Rory Bedroom

·       Simblreen 2021

·       Starlight Crystals

·       Stellan Dining

·       Patron gift 1

·       Patron gift 2

·       Patron gift 4

·       Sunbeam Study

·       Sunny Corner

·       Twee Tableware

·       Vintage Crockery

 lilis-palace - https://www.patreon.com/lilis_palace

·       Intarsia Biedermeier set

 littledica - https://www.patreon.com/littledica

·       Rise & Grind Café

·       Sleek Slumber stuff pack

·       Deligracy cottage living update

·       Deligracy Delicato stuff pack

·       Roman holiday

 Madlen - https://www.patreon.com/madlen

·       Nuri Rug

 max 20 - https://www.patreon.com/Max20

·       Cozy Backyard pack

·       Master bedroom pack

 Maxsus – https://maxsus.tumblr.com/post/640662541333348352/download

·       Poolside lounge pack

Mechtasims - https://www.patreon.com/mechtasims

·       Bathroom set wall mirror

·       Aphrodite Set

·       Back to school

·       Cyber girl

·       Essential clutter

·       Groovy baby

my cup of cc -https://www.patreon.com/mycupofcc

·       Maple Manor The Modernist Collection Living Room

·       August 2021

·       Colour Talk Dining Stuff

·       Colour Talk Kitchen

·       Colour Talk Living Rm

myshunosun - https://www.patreon.com/myshunosun

·       Elle Office

·       The art room

·       Uma living

·       Dawn living

·       Gale dining

·       Lottie

Networksims - https://networksims.tumblr.com/

·       Giosue Tile Wall

NolanSims - https://nolan-sims.com/downloads

·       Strawberry Planters

Novvvas - http://ts4novvvas.blogspot.com/

·       Vintage floor

oni - https://www.patreon.com/oni28

·       Bakery Clutter

·       Cottage kitchen

·       Vintage living room

 peacemaker - https://peacemaker-ic.tumblr.com/TS4O...

·       Atwood living

·       Bayside bedroom set

·       Creta kitchen

·       Futura

·       Hudson bathroom

·       Kingston dining

·       Kitayama dining

·       Kitayama living

·       Mid-century eclectic

·       Mina kitchen

·       Province

·       Urbane kitchen

·       Bowed

 pierisim - https://www.patreon.com/pierisim

·       Calderone bedroom

·       MCM All

·       Oakhouse all

·       Living room mini kit

·       Tidying Up

·       Coldbrew Coffeeshop

·       Winter Garden

·       Domaine du Clos

renorasims - https://www.renorasims.com

·       xtreme shower

RVSN – https://ravasheen.com/

·       cup of cozy

·       smarts content

simplisticsims - http://simplisticsims4.com

·       Cottage roman curtain

·       Loloi Pink Rugs

·       RHckbreadbox

 sixiamcc - https://imfromsixam.tumblr.com/

·       Breeze of Greece

·       Oak & concrete kit

·       Charming Chalet

·       Home Basics

·       Home Improvement

·       Home Office

·     �� Retro Vibes

·       Teen room

 SYB – https://www.patreon.com/Syboubou

·       Bonbon

·       Galileo

·       Julie

·       Laundry

·       Nathalie

SurelySims - https://www.patreon.com/surelysims

·       Electronic citrus clock

Clutter Cat - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thec...

·       Busy Bee

·       Cat milk no 1 reloaded

·       Cat milk no 2 reloaded

Torque - https://www.thesimsresource.com/members/Torque3/

·       Aged wood floor

TUDS -https://www.patreon.com/TudTuds

·       Beam Parte 2 V01 Merged

·       Wave merged

 awingedllama - https://www.patreon.com/awingedllama

·       Apartment therapy inspired stuff v2 Merged

·       Paranormal plants

·       Blooming rooms plants

 MXIMS – https://mxims.tumblr.com/

·       Ikea Barso Wall Grid B

Warmthlu - https://warmthlu.tumblr.com/tagged/s4cc

Mini wallpaper set

[the-kr8tor]

I had a 7 hour nap and whoa where am I..anyways.

Daily Hobie HC! If you think about it, Hobie's been through a lot. From his father leaving, to his mother dying from alcoholism to leave him and his many siblings to raise themselves. And then also being bitten by a radioactive spider that literally crawled out of a waste dump and bit him. With no proper support, he must've been terrified upon being bitten, probably thinking that this was the end for his life. Even before he was bit, he must've been bullied to an inch of this life, not because of poverty, but also because of the possible racism in his universe. I feel like he struggles with abandonment issues in all honesty. Even if you and him are lovers, and he trusts you wholeheartedly, there would always be his inner child while a sense of fear that you'll leave him. Before, early on, he'd hide the bad parts from you, not even allowing you to see his tattoo in fear you may leave him for someone you deemed better. Someone with less struggles, less worries, someone more of your 'hero' than him. For this, let's say his lotus flower tattoo is at the back of his shoulder. At first, before you knew about his past and bad experiences, he would never want you to stand behind him when he was shirtless, conjuring up the excuse of his spidey-senses tingling and mistaking you for some villain. When in reality, you always made his senses tingle differently. He just didn't want you to see what he had been through in fear you would see him differently. Early on, he would appear to you when he was okay. When he could handle the burdens on his shoulder. However, when it all came crashing down, you were the last person he would want to ever know about it. Of course, he wouldn't just leave you wondering. He'd still speak to you, one way or another, before isolating himself somewhere to feel himself break under the pressure. He saw you as a flower. You had your own struggles, your own grief, your own worries. And Hobie would say to himself that he didn't want to burden you, so he simply just bottled it up. Even when he bottled his feelings up, he would never lash out at you, instead just listening to your side of the story whenever you guys would argue, and let the mood of the room simmer down a little before talking. Instead, his bottled feelings came out in waves when he couldn't take it anymore, drowning. Until one day, your warmth cracked a wall leading to his thoughts. Anyways I baked cake last night and I thought you may wanted a slice, so here!🍰 - 🐦‍⬛

7 HOURS?! I'm so jealous rn

WOOHOO DAILY HOBIE HC 🎉‼️

W-wait H-hold on

YOU WERE NOT KIDDING AT HOW ANGSTY THIS IS! OFF TO JAIL FOR YOU! For *checks watch* 5 mins!

The comic art of him getting bit made my heartache for him fr like he's in pure agony there 😭😭😭

Him hiding his feelings 😭😭😭😭😭 BRUHH 😭😭😭😭

*with tears in my eyes* t-thank you for the cake 🥲

[daily-coloring]

Best of 2023 - TV Series

I think I watched over 50 TV shows this year and most of them were great which means, the making of this list was hard and took me a few days and I'm still not sure about the order.

01. Deadloch - Season 1. - "Welcome to the Tasmanian town of Deadloch! It’s the site of a simmering culture war between the blue-collar, old-school residents and a recent influx of lesbians who’ve put the place on the map, bringing performance art and gourmet nose-to-tail dining with them." - Vanity Fair

02. The Woman In The Wall - Miniseries - "People think that this couldn't happen again. Then they forget that the last laundry closed in 1996. It wasn't medieval times. The f**king 'Macarena' was in the charts." - Philippa Dunne

03. Nolly - Miniseries - "This show follows Nolly through the very public sacking and its fallout, and paints a sympathetic and adoring picture of the woman behind the headlines. Bonham Carter sails through this as if on the campest of clouds, but also beautifully articulates the grief behind the glamour. Nolly is part of the old guard, the oldest of guards in fact – she was the first woman ever to appear on colour television. " - The Guardian

04. The Newsreader - Season 2.

05. Heartstopper - Season 2.

06. Mood - Miniseries - "Like Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag and Michaela Coel’s Chewing Gum, Lecky’s Mood started life as a one-woman show on the London stage; she debuted Superhoe at the Royal Court in 2019, with the Standard describing her performance as “a revelation”. That’s probably where those comparisons should end, though, as Mood is a very different beast, and not just because of the aforementioned musical interludes. The darkness in this story isn’t necessarily mined for laughs (though our deadpan lead Sasha can be savagely funny, just like some of her brutal song lyrics) and there’s a real sense of precariousness at its heart." - Evening Standard

07. Workin' Moms - Season 7.

08. Blue Lights - Season 1.

09. The White Lotus - Season 1. and 2.

10. Ted Lasso - Season 3.

11. Starstruck - Season 3.

12. The Following Events Are Based on a Pack of Lies - Season 1. - "The show touches on some serious themes around abuse, misogyny and gaslighting, but it is so compelling because it doesn’t forget how much fun there is in the art of the con." - The Guardian

13. The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart - Miniseries

14. The Night Agent - Season 1.

15. The Dry - Season 1.

16. Foundation - Season 1. and 2.

17. The Change - Season 1. - "Bridget Christie writes and stars in The Change – her sitcom debut – as Linda, a much put-upon wife, mother and retail worker who reaches a crisis point at her 50th birthday party. It’s not just the menopause. It’s also the cluelessness of her husband (Omid Djalili), the open disdain of her teenage children and society’s general denial of the full humanity of older women that pushes Linda over the edge." - The Guardian

18. Sex Education - Season 4.

19. Fleishman is in Trouble - Miniseries

20. Slow Horses - Season 1. and 2.

21. The Last of Us - Season 1.

22. The Fall of the House of Usher - Miniseries

23. Fisk - Season 1. and 2. - "You can tell Fisk is an old-fashioned sitcom just by looking at it. That goes beyond Fisk’s awesome brown pants suit; the visuals here are firmly in service to the story (and to the jokes) rather than feeling like a cinematographer’s audition reel. The locations are basic – an office, a café, Fisk’s temporary Air B&B home – and filmed in a straightforward way that never detracts from the comedy. For audiences used to expensive production values and flashy locations this may take a little getting used to, but the effort is most definitely worth it." - ScreenHub

24. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel - Season 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

25. The Diplomat - Season 1.

26. Gen V - Season 1.

27. Secret City - Season 1. and 2.

28. Severance - Season 1.

29. Wolf - Miniseries

30. The Crown - Season 5.

31. Shrinking - Season 1.

32. Three Pines - Miniseries

33. Beef - Miniseries

34. The Sixth Commandment - Miniseries - "Evil characters can be just as one-note and boring as the good, but Hardwicke manages to infuse Ben with such a disconcerting blend of calculation, charm and quiet, almost hidden glee in the harm he inflicts that it is impossible to look away. You will want to. It is harrowing." - The Guardian

35. Swarm - Miniseries

36. Bodies - Miniseries

37. The Long Shadow - Miniseries

38. Wellmania - Miniseries

39. Boat Story - Miniseries

40. The Morning Show - Season 3.

[fourseasonsfigs]

Chulian on Lake

For today's fig post we have this amazing set - that lights up!

This complex and beautiful set features Zhang Zhehan's lotus spirit Qing Lian (aka Xiao-Zhe) from his advertisement for Jade Dynasty: New Fantasy, together with Gong Jun's Dong Fang Yuechu from the upcoming drama Fox Spirit Matchmaker: Yue Hong.

First, just a few pictures of our ethereal lotus fairy:

And a few pictures of our stunning Daoist priest:

That last one in particular is the inspiration for this fig here.

This set arrived in an enormous, fairly heavy box. I had to ship this air mail because of the electronics involved in it.

I was a little worried about how big and delicate this set was, but it arrived in perfect shape. Full credit to the fig maker and the factory for cushioning it so well.

Here's all the pieces. I still think it's incredible all the fragile flowers and stems make it through.

You can see here the little tiny holes (up at the top by the edges) where you can insert the lotus leaves and flowers. They went in quite easily and were very stable.

Here's a close up of the electronics. The set came with both batteries and a USB cord. The button there turns on the lake light.

Here's the lake by itself, before the figs go in. As you can see, Yuechu stands in the boat via peg legs. Very seaworthy of him! Qing Lian just lays down however you like inside the lotus.

Before we put the figs into their respective conveyances, here's a closeup of them. Qing Lian is all curled up and sleepy eyed, and Yuechu is casting a magical fireball of some sorts.

I could only really get two angles of the figs before they went into the lake, since neither of them stand by themselves.

This was a very difficult set to get good pictures of. One, because I lack any real photography skills, and my phone kept hyperfocusing on certain parts and blurring out the rest. But, as we go around the fig, you do end up seeing the whole thing. So please bear with me!

Beautiful, isn't it? I love how detailed these figures are - their hair is amazing.

Here's a top-down view. Yuechu fits in the boat beautifully - the pegs went right in, and he's pretty secure in there. No glue needed. Xiao Zhe is resting peacefully and easily in his lotus.

We'll do a couple closeups here. He's quite tiny all curled up like that!

Huh. Is Yuechu conjuring up Qing Lian? It looks like we have a lotus in the middle of that magic. I'm not sure!

Our lotus lake at midnight! It does in fact light up like a dream. I just went ahead and plugged the USB cord in the wall, so it's a little less beautiful than it would be cordless with the batteries. Still, it's very lovely.

The fig maker included a double-sided postcard, a matching keychain with the art, the batteries, and the USB cord (that I had already plugged in).

I really appreciate how she included both. This is her first set, and I hope she makes more!

Material: Resin

Fig Count: 513

Scene Count: 36

Rating: Luminous!

[link to the Master Post Index]

[stellawolfearts]

The sun household is riddled with doodles on the walls and the tables and everywhere bc mk is a born artist and swk bought him expensive art stuff when he was little and mk just drew all over everything he could reach. Mac got to Mk before the entire house became his canvas and got swk to buy mk some paper to use instead of the WALLS

Then again neither parents could bear to erase mk’s doodles especially not after seeing the family portraits drawn in the living room wall.

So yeah…..there are random baby doodles all around the house.

In the bathroom you’ll find smeered paint that vaguely looks like a lotus flower and a kiwi on the bathtub. On swk and macs door there are two crayon drawn monkeys. One purple and the other orange and they’re holding hands :)

[adubsar]

The Gate of Cyrus: From Babylon to Persia

The Discovery of an Achaemenid Architectural Masterpiece

In recent years, archaeologists have made a remarkable discovery near Persepolis: a magnificent gate attributed to Cyrus the Great. This discovery has revolutionized our understanding of Achaemenid architecture and civilization, providing us with valuable insights into this historical period.

Archaeological excavations at this site have been conducted for ten years by a joint Iranian-Italian team. Using various methods such as carbon-14 dating and the study of inscriptions, archaeologists have reached significant conclusions about the history and function of this gate.

Location of the Gate

The discovered gate is situated in the Tel Ajri site, approximately three kilometers northwest of the Persepolis citadel. This gate was a structure measuring approximately 30 by 40 meters with a height of about 12 meters.

The structure featured a central corridor that formed a rectangular room measuring 8 by 12 meters. Inside this central chamber, there were four seats. The central corridor opened up to the Achaemenid palace complex on both sides.

Structure

A recently discovered gate near Persepolis has provided new insights into Achaemenid architecture and history.Constructed from mud and fired bricks, the gate is adorned with intricate decorations, including lotus flowers, mythological creatures, and religious symbols. Its walls are embellished with colorful panels that reflect the diverse cultural influences of ancient Iran, the Achaemenids, Elamites, and Mesopotamians. Further evidence of the gate’s significance lies in the Babylonian and Elamite inscriptions found within its central chamber

Archaeological investigations led by Alireza Askari Chavardi suggest that the gate was erected after 539 BC, following Cyrus the Great’s conquest of Babylon. The gate's grandeur and symbolic elements point to its ceremonial purpose. While Cyrus was the primary architect of this impressive structure, his son also played a pivotal role, ruling Babylon for eight years before ascending to the Iranian throne in 529 BC.

The Echoes of Ishtar in the Gate of Cyrus

The Gate of Cyrus exhibit striking similarities to the iconic Gates of Ishtar, both featuring intricate brickwork, vibrant colors, and mythological imagery. These shared characteristics suggest a profound influence of Babylonian art and architecture on Achaemenid design.

The discovery of glazed bricks adorned with mushkhushshu (Akk: Mušḫuššu - Cunieform: 𒈲𒍽 MUŠ.ḪUŠ, 'reddish snake') and bull motifs is among the most significant archaeological findings. mushkhushshu, a mythical creature combining the characteristics of a serpent and a dragon, is primarily recognized as a symbol of the god Marduk, the chief deity of the Babylonians.

Discovered fragments of the legendary creature Moshokhoso, matching the original depiction.

Youtube Video

[senor-plume]

Monday With Bukowski

only one beer left and the ghost of Bukowski lights my smoke up and convinces me to leave the warm confines of this domicile to get some more

so I throw on my Converse sneakers and jacket to split this scene heading out to purchase a nice January six pack

I leave the stereo playing music softly for a cat that no longer exists but I hate coming home to a silent home so the Beatles will greet me when I arrive back to this place with the brew and I will take to this desk then and pump out a few poems to alleviate the boredom and possibly create a work of art that I will not be embarrassed by in the morning

so I snag my keys from the desk that is being held together with bills and candle wax and hit the stairs down to the car that always waits for me patiently …even when the weather is frigid

and I pull out of my driveway to the local grocery store to purchase the essentials… the beer…a bag of Goldfish Crackers a few slices of my beloved swiss cheese

I survive the aisles… the rows of red dyed meat sitting in dumb plastic …the Cheerios and the sadness of the pet food bags which is a reminder that my darling cat is no longer with me

I hate shopping

I snag the six pack and crackers and cheese and walk slowly to the checkout happy (as always) that I did not run into someone who will engage me in high school conversations

so I pay the total gather up my purchases and slip and slide to my auto which will carry my dumb ass back home where nothing alive waits for me …just a moody television …scented candles …an empty fridge and a photograph of Bob Dylan on the wall circa 1966 that never fails to cheer me up

and now with a Corona Light in my palm I think of Bukowski’s ghost and hope that he will arrive again to be my drinking partner …to light my smokes and teach me a thing or two about making my fingertips hit the proper keys on this typewriter and write poems that I will not cringe over when the sun rises and my solitude is exposed

and if he does not arrive again I have my Buddha statues here at the desk to egg me on… rocking some Eastern pom-poms and lotus flower pedals which never fails to boil the religious goo that swims about inside of this 44 year old frame

I feel good tonight now that I am a drunken homebody …alone and ready to ignore the ringing of the phone or the press of my doorbell

alone on a Monday

seriously now is there anything finer than that?

[cryopathiic]

'did any of this matter to you?'

angst prompts || no longer accepting

TIME FREEZES WITH THOSE WORDS; platinum locks fall softly back into place mid-bounce and the rime slowly settles around Upper Two like snow mellowing after the blizzard. A thin crystallic sheen glosses over his perplexed gaze as he takes in sight of his opponent; beaten bloody, within an inch of his existence in this sadistically prolonged fight. Naraku gargles a sardonic laugh and Dōma swears he can taste the bitterness in the air around them.

And he can't help himself. The fans lower. A second time he's caught in that man's web — somehow the former Kizuki always has the right words to lure him in. And it's frustrating.

Behind them, the ice children lament the sound of their own crackling as Upper Two's blood art begins to run amock with the oncoming surge of emotion. That flutter in his chest that he has yet to settle with — the one Master keeps insisting is just poison seeping into his system. Kill it, Muzan-sama insists. And he must know something, right? He's a thousand years old, so he must know something.

DON'T ENGAGE WITH HIM. KEEP FIGHTING.

But Dōma's expression only darkens; and stills into a deadpan he so rarely dons. It's not one of his prettier masks, the smiling, kind ones he usually prefers. And once again Muzan's rich cadence becomes a distant echo and Dōma enters that space — the one his former colleague introduced him to. A realm where colors look brighter and sounds ring louder; where life feels more vivid. Just like it had when they first —

❝ Naraku. ❞ He begins calmly, as if they were to start a civil discussion about it. But Dōma can't help the crescendo, no matter how adamantly he drags the words between his teeth.

❝ How ... could you ever ask me that ... after you ruined my life ?! ❞

A step forward taken in tandem with the accusatory finger pointed in his adversary's ravaged face. Venom drips from its skeletal maw and sizzles on the frost-glazed ground. Upper Two's hands motion wildly as he begins to count his woes — urged by a pressure between his lungs that has only been building ever since his companion left. And now it feels like if he doesn't let it out, he might implode!

❝ I... I've lost everything because of you! Master's favor, I—I've lost my appetite, I'm losing my mind day by day and I— ugh! Do you even realize how agonizing that is, Nara? Watching myself go mad in that place, day by the day, when I know I've got a whole eternity ahead of me, and- and that's a long time to be going insane, Naraku! That's a really, really long time! ❞ For once he chooses to ride the wave; throws his hands up in frustration, lets his fingers curl and teeth show and eyes widen in a way that's far from flattering. It only grows worse when a realization hits — in that moment, he forgets all about the blood bond, all about his place and task there, overwhelmed by a thought that he has not dared speak to anyone else; not even himself.

❝ And the worst part of it is I don't think Master is going to kill me. I'm worried that he might— he might let me live like this! ❞

His voice cracks and that alerts him to the reality of their situation.

The shattered creations, the flowers growing on the walls like a parasite enveloping this woman's lab from the inside — the way his nails have dug into his own palms and more lotus blossoms spawn on the ground around him. His hoarfrost is moving on its own accord, spreading Naraku's way — is ... is he longing to be ... near that wretch? To hear something comforting from lips that were made to spew nothing but poison?

No. It can't be. Subconsciously, his hand hovers to feel the bloodstained crown that suddenly feels so heavy on his neck. For a moment, Dōma lingers amidst the frigid chaos, visibly disoriented. Naraku stands there with an expression he can't quite decipher and it feels as though he is the only piece of direction in the room. The only thing he can recognize is the smell of his poison. He squishes his eyes shut.

❝ ... It... I suppose... it doesn't matter. What's done is done now. I realized that I can't change what you have done to me. You infected me when you gave me a piece of your humanity to hold. I suppose I should be thanking you for that experience. ❞ There was a note of sarcasm. Once, he had let the confession slip past his lips while sharing a cup of warm blood with Upper Three in the outback teahouse. 'I wonder what it feels like for them. Naraku? Do you think a demon like me could ever... experience that?' Inadvertedly his memory recreates the scene - the way a tender breeze had stroked through Nara's tendrils and the soft curves of his face as it contorted in an unnatural expression. A smile. So warm and inviting, just like that woman.

The smile of someone who sees you. And not just what they wish to see.

Now he didn't want to let his mind wander to the thought; but he still heard it, reverberated in his head by some voice that was neither Muzan's nor his own. Naraku had listened. He was the only one who had listened and knew of Dōma's most treasured secret; that he longed to feel in the way humans did. He longed to live the lives he had spent so long watching from his pedestal. A God who wished to laugh, to cry, to love and hate like a mortal.

How... utterly disgusting to admit for himself.

He shakes the thoughts out of his head.

❝ But instead, I think I'm just going to kill you. Then Master will be pleased again and this farce can come to an end. And, well, because killing you might make me feel better! ❞