#verse: kingdoms at odds

[tvrningout-a]

my problem is that i wanna keep adding muses but i have so many already and the muses i wanna add rn are characters that most people :' ) won't be familiar with :' ) which makes figuring out interactions for them a lil harder BUT i love them...... i love them

[gyuuberryy]

prince charming's mismatch

pairing: prince!heeseung x princess!reader

synopsis: you and prince heeseung have been rivals for as long as you can remember. what began as childhood clashes has grown into a deep-seated animosity over the years. but when your sister runs away on her wedding day, you're forced to take her place and marry heeseung—the last person you ever wanted to call your husband.

now bound in an unwanted marriage, you’re faced with navigating the tension between your unresolved hatred and an unexpected attraction. as palace intrigue and looming threats surround you both, you must confront the truth of your feelings. will the bitterness between you tear you apart, or will it ignite something far more powerful?

genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, arranged marriage au

warnings: highly suggestive content!!! kissing, hee and reader are mean at first, insecurities, jealous!hee

note: i've been meaning to write this plot for an year now, im happy with how it turned out! e2l with hee is always soo fun to write. enjoyy

word count: 11.5k

royally yours masterlist | next: jay

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the first time you met prince heeseung, it was at a grand summer garden party hosted by your parents in the palace’s sprawling grounds. you were barely six years old, and he wasn’t much older, yet even then, the air between you crackled with something akin to competition. your governess had dressed you in your finest lace frock, with your hair tied in perfect ribbons, but none of that mattered. you were too busy building a grand sandcastle near the fountain, your little fingers carefully patting the turrets into shape.

that was when heeseung appeared, his shadow falling over your castle like a storm cloud. he crouched beside you without so much as a polite greeting, his royal title apparently excusing his lack of manners. his eyes, sharp for a child, surveyed your handiwork critically.

“that’s not right,” he declared, reaching out to touch one of your towers. “the walls need to be thicker, or it’ll fall.”

you frowned, already bristling at the unsolicited advice. “it’s my castle. i know what i’m doing.”

he smirked, a small, superior thing that made your blood simmer even at that tender age. without asking, he began "fixing" it, his hands too rough as he demolished what you had so carefully crafted.

“stop!” you cried, shoving him back with all the strength your little body could muster. heeseung stumbled, landing awkwardly on the grass, but instead of being chastened, he merely laughed.

“see?” he said, gesturing at the collapsed sandcastle. “i told you it would fall.”

tears of frustration welled in your eyes as you glared at him. “you ruined it! i didn’t ask for your help!”

heeseung stood, dusting off his fine clothes, a boyish smirk still plastered on his face. “you should thank me. i was doing you a favour.”

from that day forward, any time your families met, it was as if an unspoken rule had been established—whenever you were in the same room, you and heeseung would find something to argue about. it didn’t matter if it was who deserved the biggest slice of cake or who could recite their latin conjugations faster; the two of you were constantly at odds.

as the years passed, your mutual disdain only deepened. by the time you were ten, heeseung had already earned a reputation as the golden boy of his kingdom, a future king who excelled in everything he touched. your own accomplishments were always impressive—your parents had ensured you were well-versed in languages, history, and the fine arts—but whenever heeseung was around, it felt as though all your achievements paled in comparison.

“did you hear?” one of your tutors asked one morning as you sat in the drawing room, diligently practising your embroidery. “prince heeseung has been awarded top marks in his studies again. he’s to receive a commendation from the royal academy.”

you didn’t look up, but your needle paused for the briefest of moments. “how wonderful for him,” you muttered, the words heavy with sarcasm.

that evening, at another royal banquet, you couldn’t help but bring up your own accomplishments, eager for even a crumb of recognition.

“i’ve been practising my archery,” you said proudly to the gathered guests, though your eyes couldn’t help but flick toward heeseung, who lounged nearby, looking as regal and aloof as ever. “i managed to hit the bullseye several times this week.”

heeseung glanced up lazily, catching your eye with that familiar, insufferable smirk. “impressive,” he said in a bored tone, “though archery isn’t quite the same as, say, fencing. that requires real skill.”

your fists clenched under the table, your pride wounded by his casual dismissal. but this was the way it always went. no matter what you did, heeseung always found a way to make it seem insignificant, as though he were the sun and you were merely a star dimmed by his brilliance.

by the time you were both teenagers, the animosity between you had grown more complicated, though no less intense. you found yourselves at the same royal gatherings, balls, and court functions, and each time, it was as if the entire room held its breath, waiting to see what you and heeseung would clash over next.

at one particularly grand ball, you had been feeling proud of your debut. you wore a gown of the finest silk, and you’d received more than a few admiring glances from the eligible noblemen in attendance. you were certain this was your night to shine—until heeseung approached.

“you look well enough,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge that set your teeth on edge. “though i hope you don’t trip during the quadrille like last time.”

your cheeks flushed, remembering all too well the minor misstep you’d taken at a previous ball. “i won’t,” you snapped, glaring at him. “and even if i did, it’s better than fencing yourself into a corner like you did at the tournament last month.”

his smile faltered for just a second, but that was enough to make you feel victorious.

yet, despite the constant barbs, there was something else simmering beneath the surface now—a tension you refused to name. you hated the way your heart raced whenever heeseung was near, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of a room. and, though you’d never admit it, you hated even more that part of you missed the old days when your squabbles were simple, childish things.

it all changed the day your sister’s engagement to heeseung was announced. the prince who had been your lifelong nemesis was now to become your sister’s husband, the future king of your kingdom. it was a match made for political alliance, but it felt like a betrayal. you had expected more from him—well, not more kindness, but certainly more rebellion. yet, heeseung accepted the engagement with the same cool composure he did everything else.

for the first time in years, he stopped seeking you out, stopped picking those fights you had come to expect. he no longer bothered with sharp remarks or smug smiles. instead, he kept his distance, as though you were beneath his notice.

you told yourself it didn’t matter. after all, what did you care if heeseung ignored you now? he was going to be your brother-in-law, and that was enough reason to keep things civil. and yet, a strange, hollow feeling settled in your chest whenever you saw him and your sister together. he was colder now, more mature, but somehow more distant than ever.

little did you know, your rivalry with prince heeseung was far from over. if anything, it was only just beginning.

the night your world fell apart, it started with a simple knock on your chamber door. the palace had been abuzz with preparations—florists arranging garlands, tailors hemming gowns, and courtiers whispering about the grand union that would strengthen two kingdoms. you had spent the evening rehearsing your duties as maid of honour, biting back any remnants of bitterness that still clung to your feelings about the match. it didn’t matter that you had spent your entire life despising heeseung; your sister loved him, or at least, she was supposed to.

you were preparing to retire, brushing your hair by the dim glow of candlelight, when your sister slipped into the room, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. you’d never seen her look so frantic. your heart sank before she even said a word.

“i’m not going to marry him,” she whispered, wringing her hands in the folds of her silk nightgown. her voice trembled, but it was steady enough for you to know she wasn’t joking.

your heart lurched. “what are you talking about? the wedding is tomorrow!”

her wide eyes darted to the door as if she feared someone might overhear. she leaned in closer, gripping your wrist with trembling fingers. “i can’t marry heeseung,” she said urgently. “i don’t love him. i’m leaving tonight.”

the words hit you like a physical blow. “you’re what?”

“i’m eloping,” she said, her voice firmer now, as if saying it out loud gave her courage. “with lucien.”

lucien. you barely knew the man, a minor noble from another court, but he had charmed your sister quickly. he was handsome and witty, but far beneath her station. you stared at her, disbelief mixing with fury.

“lucien? are you mad? you can’t just abandon your duty for—”

“for love?” she interrupted, her voice rising in defiance. “yes, i can. i won’t be trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who cares nothing for me.”

you swallowed hard, your mind racing. heeseung, distant and cold as he had been with you, had shown no signs of affection for your sister either, but this was bigger than personal feelings. the marriage was political, a union meant to secure alliances, peace, and power. your sister fleeing would bring nothing but chaos.

“you’ll ruin everything,” you whispered, your voice thick with the weight of the consequences. “our families, the kingdoms—this is bigger than you.”

her eyes softened with a mix of guilt and determination. “i know. but i can’t live my life for duty, not like this.” she stood, gathering a small satchel you hadn’t noticed before, already packed and ready for her escape.

“you won’t stop me, will you?” she asked, her gaze pleading.

you wanted to scream, to shake her out of this madness, but your throat tightened. she was your sister. you loved her. and you knew, deep down, that nothing you said would change her mind.

“i should,” you said, your voice quiet, brittle. “but no. i won’t.”

your sister smiled, a fragile, relieved thing, before pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug felt final, like the end of something neither of you could come back from. when she finally let go, you stood frozen in the middle of her room as she slipped out the window and into the night, her footsteps fading into the shadows.

the palace remained blissfully unaware of the catastrophe until morning, when your mother’s scream shattered the early dawn peace.

the palace was in chaos the next morning. servants rushed through the halls, panic etched on their faces as whispers spread like wildfire—the bride had run away. you stayed in your chambers as long as possible, trying to gather your thoughts, your emotions, trying to prepare for the inevitable fallout.

when the summons came from your father, it felt like a death knell. the walk to the throne room felt endless, each step heavier than the last. the moment you stepped through the grand doors, you saw heeseung standing beside your parents. his face was a mask of icy calm, but his eyes…his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, cold and unforgiving.

he didn’t even glance at you as your father spoke.

“your sister has disgraced this family,” your father’s voice boomed, his tone laced with anger and disappointment. “but the marriage cannot be abandoned. the alliance with heeseung’s kingdom is too important.”

you stood still, your stomach churning as you braced for what was coming.

“therefore,” your father continued, his gaze hard as stone, “you will take her place.”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. you? marry heeseung? no, it wasn’t possible. you had spent your entire life in a silent war with him. the idea of marrying the man who had been your nemesis since childhood was unthinkable.

your mother’s voice, soft but firm, broke the silence. “the arrangements have already been made. the wedding will proceed as planned. you will become heeseung’s bride.”

“no.” the word slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your heart racing. “i can’t.”

your father’s eyes narrowed, and your mother’s expression hardened with disappointment. “you will do your duty,” your father said coldly. “this is not up for discussion.”

duty. it always came down to that. your entire life, you had been prepared for moments like this, but not this moment. not like this.

finally, you turned to heeseung, desperate for any sign of protest, for him to say something—anything—that would stop this madness. but he was silent. his face remained expressionless, as though none of this affected him. he looked at you as if you were just a piece of the puzzle, another part of the kingdom’s grand design.

“is that all i am to you?” you asked, your voice shaking. “just a replacement? a stand-in for the bride who ran away?”

for the first time, heeseung’s gaze met yours, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable, buried deep beneath the coldness. but his words cut through you like ice.

“you’re a princess,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “your role is to serve your kingdom. that’s all that matters.”

a bitter laugh escaped your throat. “you’ve hated me for years, heeseung. and now you expect me to just—what? pretend none of that matters?”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. instead, he turned away, his indifference stinging more than any of the insults you had traded over the years.

your father spoke again, his tone final. “the marriage will happen. prepare yourself.”

the grand hall was suffused with the glow of flickering candles and soft sunlight filtering through stained glass windows. the scent of fresh roses—your sister’s favourite, not yours—hung heavily in the air, mocking the gravity of the moment. you stood at the entrance of the hall, your hands clenched so tightly around the bouquet that your knuckles were white. the murmurs of the courtiers echoed around you, a constant hum of speculation and judgement. no matter how well you carried yourself today, the whispers wouldn’t stop.

the switch of the bride was the scandal of the century, and you were at the centre of it.

ahead of you, heeseung stood tall, his face as unreadable as stone. the same detachment was in his eyes, his expression cool and composed as if this marriage was merely another political manoeuvre for him, another step toward the throne. he didn’t look at you with warmth, or even a hint of care. to him, you weren’t his wife—you were the replacement for the woman who had run away.

you walked down the aisle, every step heavier than the last, the reality of your situation crushing you. heeseung’s gaze was steady as you approached, but it wasn’t the gaze of a man looking at his bride. it was a look of cold calculation, a man who had resigned himself to duty.

when you finally reached him, your heart thudding loudly in your chest, you barely registered the priest's words. the vows—sacred, binding—felt hollow, like a cruel twist of fate. how could you stand here, repeating the words meant for your sister? they weren't meant for you. you were never supposed to be the bride.

heeseung took your hand, and the warmth of his skin was a sharp contrast to the chill that ran down your spine. his grip was firm, not gentle, but not cruel either—just dutiful. he spoke his vows with a steady voice, each word sounding rehearsed, as though they meant nothing to him beyond their formality.

and then it was your turn. you hesitated, the weight of the kingdom on your shoulders, your pulse quickening. your voice trembled slightly as you repeated the vows, feeling the eyes of everyone in the hall on you—expecting you to fulfil your role, to be the perfect princess. you could barely choke out the words, but somehow, you managed. and with every word, you felt the invisible chains of your new life tightening around you.

when the priest finally pronounced you husband and wife, heeseung’s lips brushed yours in the briefest of kisses—so cold and devoid of feeling that it felt more like a business transaction than the union of two people. the cheers of the court erupted around you, but in that moment, the applause sounded like the closing of a cage. you were trapped, bound to him, to this life.

as you turned to leave the altar, heeseung offered his arm, the tension between you palpable. his eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, but there was no warmth there. just that cold, resigned look you had grown accustomed to. you were both playing your roles, just as you had been trained to do your whole lives.

but this wasn’t a game. this was your future, and it felt like a noose tightening around your neck.

the wedding feast had been a blur—a cacophony of forced smiles, hollow congratulations, and polite toasts that masked the underlying tension. you had barely spoken a word to heeseung throughout the entire affair. he hadn’t made any attempt to speak to you either, remaining as distant and composed as ever.

now, as you stood alone in the chambers that were to be yours and heeseung’s, the reality of your new life settled heavily on your chest. the palace chambers were far too quiet, the air thick with the tension that had been building between you and heeseung for years. as you stood in the centre of the room, staring at the enormous bed draped in rich fabrics, it felt like the walls were closing in. the room was elegantly decorated—ornate tapestries hung on the walls, and the grand four-poster bed was fit for a queen. but none of it mattered. the splendour felt like a mockery of the situation you found yourself in. tonight, this room was not a sanctuary but a gilded cage.

your breath caught in your throat as the door creaked open. heeseung entered, his presence commanding even in the subdued candlelight. the tension between you was palpable, stretching like a thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment. his gaze flicked toward you briefly, but he didn’t speak, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

heeseung moved with practised grace, his movements calm and deliberate. he began undoing the buttons on his ceremonial jacket, the fine fabric sliding off his shoulders and landing in a careless heap on the chair by the vanity. you stood frozen, unsure of what to say, what to do. this wasn’t how you had imagined a wedding night would feel—though you had never dreamed this night would be with heeseung, of all people.

his back was to you now, his broad shoulders tense, though he did nothing to betray any emotion. you could feel the distance between you both, even though he was just across the room. heeseung had always been composed, guarded, but tonight, his coldness cut even deeper than usual.

he finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. “it’s late. you should rest.” there was no affection in his tone, just the same sense of duty that had hung over the entire day. you weren’t his bride by choice, and he wasn’t your husband by desire.

you bit back a bitter laugh. rest? as if you could simply close your eyes and pretend this was normal. pretend that this marriage was something other than a trap. “is that it, then?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended. “we go to bed and pretend everything is fine?”

heeseung turned to face you, his expression as unreadable as ever. he didn’t answer right away, as if weighing his response carefully. “what do you want me to say?” his tone was measured, but there was an edge to it, a hint of frustration that matched your own.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. i wasn’t supposed to marry you.”

something flickered in heeseung’s eyes, though it disappeared as quickly as it came. he regarded you for a moment, his gaze unreadable, before he spoke again. “do you think i wanted this?” his words were quiet but laced with a bitterness that surprised you. “i didn’t ask for this any more than you did.”

you swallowed, feeling a lump rise in your throat. you hadn’t expected this admission from him, hadn’t expected him to show any vulnerability. “then what are we supposed to do?” your voice was softer now, the anger ebbing away, replaced by uncertainty. “how are we supposed to live like this?”

heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, a rare moment of frustration breaking through his calm facade. “we do what’s expected of us,” he said, though there was a heaviness to his words, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “we fulfill our duties. that’s all we can do.”

“duties.” the word tasted bitter on your tongue. it had always come down to that, hadn’t it? duty to the crown, to the kingdom, to your family. and now, duty to heeseung.

the silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable. heeseung turned away, moving toward the window where the heavy drapes framed the view of the darkened palace gardens. his silhouette was stark against the faint glow of moonlight, his posture stiff, almost defensive.

after a long moment, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. “i’ll sleep over there.” he gestured to the chaise near the window, a fine piece of furniture that now seemed woefully out of place in this awkward, tension-filled room. “you can have the bed.”

you blinked, surprised by his offer. it was the last thing you expected from him, but it was a relief nonetheless. “you don’t have to—”

“i’m not doing this for you,” he interrupted, his voice firm, but not unkind. “i just don’t want to make this any more difficult than it already is.”

with that, he moved toward the chaise, gathering a pillow and blanket from the wardrobe. his actions were efficient, almost mechanical, as if he had already resigned himself to this fate. he didn’t look at you as he arranged the blanket over the chaise.

you stood there, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, awkwardness, and something else, something heavier that you couldn’t quite place. this was your wedding night, but it was nothing like you had ever imagined. there was no closeness, no warmth—just two people bound together by obligation and circumstance.

finally, you moved toward the bed, the thick carpets muffling your steps. the soft fabric of your gown felt heavy as you climbed beneath the covers, though they provided no comfort. you lay there, staring up at the intricate canopy above, your mind racing. this bed, this room—none of it felt like yours.

heeseung settled on the chaise, his back to you, the distance between you both feeling vast despite the small room. the silence was oppressive, each second dragging on longer than the last. you wondered if he was as uneasy as you were, or if he had already steeled himself to this new reality.

for a long while, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the faint rustling of fabric as you shifted beneath the covers. the weight of the day, of the vows, of your new title, pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

finally, you couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “heeseung,” you whispered, unsure if you even wanted him to respond.

he didn’t turn, but his voice was low and steady when he answered. “what?”

you hesitated, searching for the right words. “do you think... do you think this will ever get easier?”

there was a long pause before he responded, his voice quiet, almost resigned. “i don’t know.”

and with that, the conversation ended. heeseung remained silent, his back still turned to you, and you knew there was nothing more to say. you turned onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you, though they offered little warmth. the room felt too big, too empty, despite his presence.

eventually, exhaustion crept in, dulling the sharp edges of your thoughts. but even as sleep began to claim you, a cold, sinking feeling settled in your chest. this was your life now—bound to a man you barely knew, a man who had been your enemy for years, and yet, somehow, your husband.

and as you drifted off into uneasy sleep, the last thought that crossed your mind was how strange it felt to be lying just feet away from heeseung, yet feeling as though he was a world away.

the morning after the wedding dawned cold and gray, mirroring the lingering tension between you and heeseung. you woke up in the large, empty bed, the space next to you untouched, a stark reminder of the distance that had been established on your wedding night. the air in the room felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls were pressing in on you, reminding you of your new reality.

as you sat up, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings only worsened the tightness in your chest. this was your new life. not just this bed, but this room, this palace—heeseung’s palace—and you would share it with a man who barely spoke to you, who looked at you with that same cold distance he had always shown.

you dressed quickly, your movements mechanical, trying not to think too much. the maids moved around you silently, well-trained and efficient, but you could feel their eyes on you. it was impossible to escape the fact that everyone knew. the entire kingdom knew the story—the princess who had run away, and her sister forced to take her place. the whispers would never stop.

when you finally made your way downstairs to the grand dining room, heeseung was already seated at the long table, a plate of food in front of him. he didn’t look up when you entered, simply continued cutting into his meal with precise, practised movements. you hesitated for a moment, then took your seat across from him.

the silence was unbearable.

you picked at your food, barely tasting it, glancing at heeseung from time to time. his expression was as unreadable as ever, his attention focused on the papers beside his plate—likely matters of the kingdom that required his attention. he was already immersed in his duties, the weight of his impending kingship pressing down on him just as heavily as your new role as his wife weighed on you.

finally, you couldn’t stand it any longer. “do you plan to ignore me for the rest of our lives?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

heeseung didn’t look up immediately, taking his time to finish his bite and set down his utensils with deliberate care. when he finally met your gaze, his expression was cool, detached. “i’m not ignoring you.”

you scoffed, unable to hide your frustration. “you’ve barely spoken to me since the wedding.”

he raised an eyebrow, his tone as calm as ever. “what would you like me to say?”

the question took you off guard. you hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. you opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to respond. what did you want him to say? that he regretted everything as much as you did? that he hated this arrangement, too? or perhaps you wanted him to acknowledge the years of bitterness between you, to admit that this marriage was a farce.

instead, you said, “we’re married now, heeseung. we have to live together. we can’t keep pretending the other doesn’t exist.”

his jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm. “i’m aware of that.”

you waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. the silence stretched on once again, thicker than before, suffocating in its awkwardness. you pushed your plate away, no longer interested in eating. “fine,” you muttered under your breath, standing abruptly. “i suppose i’ll just get used to it, then.”

you turned to leave, but his voice stopped you. “you don’t have to like this any more than i do, but we have responsibilities now.”

you paused, your back to him, your hands clenched at your sides. “responsibilities,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. it seemed like that was all your life had ever been reduced to—duty, obligation, and responsibilities.

without another word, you left the dining room, the heavy doors closing behind you with a soft thud. you could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on you even more as you walked through the halls of the palace, each step echoing in the vast emptiness. you weren’t just trapped in this marriage—you were trapped in this life.

days passed, and though you and heeseung were forced to share the same space, your interactions remained minimal, stilted. in the mornings, you would find him already at the breakfast table, poring over documents and barely acknowledging your presence. he would spend his days attending council meetings and handling matters of state, leaving you to navigate the palace on your own, feeling more like a guest in your own home than its mistress.

at night, he would retire to the chambers late, often when you were already lying in bed, pretending to sleep. he would quietly take his place on the chaise near the window, far enough away to avoid any awkwardness, but close enough that his presence was a constant reminder of the divide between you.

it was during these nights that the loneliness settled in most heavily. the silence of the room, broken only by the occasional rustling of fabric or the soft crackle of the fireplace, was suffocating. you had grown accustomed to sleeping alone, but now, knowing heeseung was just a few feet away, the distance between you felt almost unbearable. there was an unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to bridge the gap.

one evening, after yet another day of awkward meals and tense silences, you found yourself in the library, one of the few places in the palace where you felt at peace. the vast room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, their spines worn and familiar. you had always loved to read, finding solace in the stories and histories of others when your own life felt too overwhelming.

you were seated by the window, the late afternoon sun casting a soft glow over the pages of your book, when the door creaked open. you looked up, surprised to see heeseung standing in the doorway. he paused for a moment, as if uncertain whether to enter or leave, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on you.

“may i join you?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.

you blinked, caught off guard by his request. this was the first time he had sought you out since the wedding, and the suddenness of it left you momentarily speechless. you nodded, unsure of what else to do. “of course.”

heeseung crossed the room, moving with his usual grace, and took a seat in the armchair opposite you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet of the library enveloping you both. he seemed content to sit in silence, his gaze wandering to the bookshelves that lined the walls.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “this is... one of the quieter rooms.”

you raised an eyebrow, a small, incredulous smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “it’s a library, heeseung. of course it’s quiet.”

to your surprise, he chuckled softly, though it was a dry, humourless sound. “fair enough.”

silence fell again, but this time it wasn’t as suffocating. there was something almost... peaceful about it, the weight of your shared presence not as unbearable as it had been before. you watched him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how tired he looked. the weight of his responsibilities was evident in the slight furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders sagged ever so slightly.

after a while, you set your book down on your lap, deciding to break the silence. “it must be difficult,” you said quietly. “taking on so much.”

heeseung didn’t answer right away, his gaze still focused on the shelves, but eventually, he nodded. “it is.”

you hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, softer this time. “you don’t have to carry it all alone, you know.”

he turned to look at you then, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something softer than the cold indifference you had grown accustomed to.

“and what would you suggest?” he asked, his voice quiet but not unkind.

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “but we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.”

heeseung’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. it wasn’t much, but it was the first step—however small—toward something more than just forced cohabitation.

the shift in your relationship came faster than you expected. it started with a challenge—a reckless, unspoken dare that neither of you could resist.

it had been a clear, crisp day, the first after several weeks of rain. you were restless, tired of the palace walls and the constant burden of your new role. you had gone to the stables, hoping to take one of the horses out for a ride, needing to feel the wind in your hair and the ground beneath you. but when you arrived, heeseung was already there, adjusting the reins of his own horse.

you paused in the doorway, surprised to see him. “you ride?”

he glanced up, one eyebrow raised. “you sound surprised.”

“i am,” you admitted. “i’ve never seen you ride before.”

he chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and you couldn’t resist rising to it. “care to prove it?” you asked, moving toward your own horse.

heeseung’s smirk widened. “what do you have in mind?”

you mounted your horse swiftly, the thrill of the challenge already coursing through your veins. “a race.”

heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “you think you can beat me?”

“i know i can,” you shot back, turning your horse toward the open field beyond the stables.

without another word, you spurred your horse into motion, not waiting for his response. behind you, you heard heeseung’s laughter, low and rich, before the sound of hooves thundering against the ground told you he had accepted the challenge.

you raced through the fields, the wind whipping through your hair, the thrill of the chase making your heart race. heeseung was right behind you, and you could feel the tension building, the competitive edge between you sparking like fire. it was like being children again, challenging each other at every turn, pushing each other to the limit.

but this time, it was different. the stakes were higher, the tension thicker, and the way heeseung looked at you when he finally caught up to you sent a shiver down your spine.

when he finally pulled his horse beside yours, you were both breathless, your faces flushed with adrenaline. you glanced over at him, and the look in his eyes—intense, dark, heated—made your pulse quicken.

“not bad,” he said, his voice low, rough around the edges.

you smirked, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “you almost kept up.”

heeseung leaned in just slightly, his gaze locking with yours. “almost?” he murmured, his voice sending a jolt through you.

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. the space between you was too close, the air charged with something you weren’t quite ready to name. his eyes lingered on your lips for just a moment too long, and you could feel the heat of his presence, the tension that had always existed between you now manifesting in a way that was far more dangerous.

before either of you could say anything, heeseung pulled back, his smirk returning as if nothing had happened. “we’ll call it a draw,” he said, though there was a teasing edge to his voice.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, shaking your head with a laugh. “you wish.”

but as you rode back to the palace, the tension between you remained, simmering beneath the surface. it was no longer the resentment of old enemies, but something far more complex, far more dangerous. and for the first time, you found yourself wondering what would happen if that tension ever boiled over.

later that night, the air was thick with the remnants of the day’s energy. you couldn’t sleep, your mind still racing from the ride and the way heeseung had looked at you—how close he had come, how your heart had nearly betrayed you in that moment of suspended anticipation.

you wandered the halls of the palace aimlessly, your footsteps soft against the marble floors. the palace at night was a different place, quiet and still, the shadows long and heavy. it felt like a place where secrets lingered in every corner, where the walls whispered of things that could never be said aloud.

as you passed by the study, you noticed the faint glow of light beneath the door. curiosity piqued, you pushed the door open just enough to peek inside. heeseung was there, seated at the desk, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. he was reading, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly parted as he focused on the page in front of him.

you hesitated, but before you could turn away, he looked up, catching sight of you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. then, without breaking eye contact, heeseung set the book aside.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, intimate in the quiet of the room.

you shook your head, stepping into the room. “no. you?”

heeseung’s gaze flicked over you, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin heat under his scrutiny. “i’ve been thinking,” he said, his tone soft but laced with that same dangerous tension that had been building all day.

“about what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved closer, drawn to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. “about you,” he said quietly. “about us.”

the weight of his words settled in the space between you, thick and intoxicating. about you. about us. it echoed in your mind, stirring something deep within you that you had tried to ignore for far too long. you weren’t sure if it was the late hour, the dim candlelight, or the fact that you had been dancing around each other for weeks now, but something inside you snapped.

your breath hitched as you looked at him, his eyes dark and full of something you couldn’t quite name. but it was there—undeniable, pulsing in the space between you. and now that it had been spoken into existence, you couldn’t unsee it.

“what about us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. it was a challenge.

heeseung’s gaze flicked to your lips, and the tension in the room intensified, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like the air itself might shatter from the pressure. he stood slowly, his movements deliberate, and took a step toward you, closing the already-small distance between you.

“there’s always been something between us,” he said, his voice low, rough. his eyes never left yours, burning with intensity. “even when we hated each other.”

your heart was pounding now, so loud you were sure he could hear it. you wanted to deny it, to tell him that he was wrong, that it had always been pure hatred. but that would’ve been a lie. you knew it as well as he did—whatever had always been there between you, it had never been simple.

“and what is it now?” you asked, forcing yourself to meet his gaze even though every instinct told you to look away. to run.

heeseung took another step closer, his hand reaching up slowly, as though giving you the chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. his fingers brushed against your cheek, the touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine. his hand lingered there, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

“maybe we’ve been fighting the wrong battle,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. the warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, and you felt your pulse quicken.

your throat tightened. every word he said felt like a dangerous line, one that you were teetering on the edge of crossing. the tension between you had always been a fire—burning too hot, too fast. and now, it felt like it was about to consume you both.

heeseung’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and your breath caught in your throat. his touch was tentative, as though he wasn’t quite sure if this was real or if you would pull away at any moment.

but you didn’t.

instead, you took a step closer, closing the gap completely. the air between you was charged, thick with unspoken desire and the weight of all the years you had spent fighting against each other. your body was betraying you, leaning into him, drawn by a force you had denied for too long.

heeseung’s eyes darkened as he leaned in, his lips barely an inch from yours, the heat between you almost unbearable now. you could feel the tension in every muscle, the way his hand trembled slightly as it cupped your cheek, the way your own body was responding without your permission.

then, in a breathless moment that felt like it stretched on forever, he closed the distance.

his lips pressed against yours—soft at first, testing, as though he wasn’t sure you would let him. but the moment your lips met his, something ignited between you. the kiss deepened, filled with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for so long. it was a clash of emotions—anger, desire, need—all colliding in that single moment.

you responded instantly, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. the kiss was rough, almost desperate, as though you were both trying to make up for years of missed chances in that single moment.

his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you gasped against his lips at the feeling of his body pressed so close to yours. the intensity of it was overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop. you didn’t want to think. you just wanted to feel.

but then, as quickly as it started, heeseung pulled back, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours. his hands still gripped your waist, holding you in place as though he couldn’t quite let go yet.

“this isn’t... what i expected,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. his breath was warm against your skin, and his eyes searched yours, as though he was looking for an answer in your gaze.

you swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. “what did you expect?” you asked softly, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

heeseung’s grip on your waist tightened for a moment, his eyes darkening once again. “i didn’t expect you to feel this way.” his voice was low, almost a growl, filled with the same intensity that had been building between you all night.

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. you had no idea what to say, no idea how to explain the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you. all you knew was that everything had changed in that kiss.

“i don’t know what i feel,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible in the heavy silence of the room.

heeseung’s lips twitched into a small, almost sad smile. “neither do i.” he stepped back, finally breaking the physical contact between you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his body against yours.

“but whatever this is... it’s dangerous,” he continued, his eyes locked on yours, as though warning you. “we’ve always been enemies. we don’t know how to be anything else.”

you felt a lump form in your throat at his words, because deep down, you knew he was right. but that didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the desire for something more—for the possibility of what could be.

“i don’t want to be your enemy anymore,” you said softly, the confession surprising even you.

heeseung’s eyes widened slightly at your words, his expression unreadable. for a moment, you thought he might say something—might admit that he didn’t want to be your enemy either. but then, he shook his head, the walls between you coming back up, brick by brick.

“this doesn’t change anything,” he said quietly, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

and with that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there in the soft glow of candlelight, your heart pounding and your mind reeling from the kiss that had shifted the entire balance between you.

as the door closed softly behind him, you exhaled a shaky breath, your fingers brushing your lips where his had been moments before.

everything had changed.

the royal court was buzzing with tension, and for once, the tension wasn’t between you and heeseung. the kingdom was on edge, not from war or rebellion, but from something far more insidious—political manoeuvring. rival noble houses were plotting against heeseung’s rule, questioning his right to ascend to the throne, especially after the sudden marriage to you. the whispers had grown louder over the past few weeks, the courtiers’ gazes sharper, waiting for the first misstep.

you had known court life would be full of power plays and alliances, but this was different. it was personal. every snide comment, every hushed conversation behind closed doors, felt like an attack on your marriage, on your family’s legacy. and worst of all, it felt like an attack on you.

one afternoon, as you made your way through the palace corridors, you overheard a group of nobles—close to your family—voicing their displeasure over your sudden marriage to heeseung. it was the same old song—how your sister should have been the bride, how you were never meant for this role, how heeseung marrying you was a strategic disaster.

you felt your blood run cold, but you kept walking, your head held high. you had grown used to these remarks, but today, they stung deeper. not because they questioned your worth, but because they reflected the deep-seated insecurity you had always carried.

that night, you found yourself alone in the study, staring out the window at the darkening sky. the weight of the court’s judgement, the impossible standards, the constant comparisons to your sister—they were suffocating. and then there was heeseung, whose coldness had thawed just enough to show you glimpses of something deeper, something real. but he was still heeseung—your husband, your childhood rival, and now the man who held your future in his hands.

the door creaked open behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was him. you had grown attuned to his presence, the way the air shifted whenever he entered a room.

“what’s wrong?” his voice was quieter than usual, but still carrying that edge of command. he always knew when something was off, as if he could sense the turmoil swirling inside you.

you didn’t answer immediately, your gaze fixed on the stars outside. “they’re saying we’re not suited for each other,” you murmured, finally turning to face him. “that i’m not fit to be queen. that you made a mistake.”

heeseung’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in that familiar way, but this time, it wasn’t directed at you.

“let them talk,” he said flatly. “they’re just waiting for us to fail.”

“and what if they’re right?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, the fear and doubt bubbling to the surface. “i was never meant to marry you. this isn’t the life i was prepared for.”

heeseung stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. then, to your surprise, he closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“i didn’t choose you because you were an easy choice,” he said, his voice low but intense. “i chose you because you’re stronger than you realise.”

you blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his words. heeseung wasn’t one to offer praise lightly, and hearing it now, in this moment, felt more intimate than anything he had ever said to you before.

“there are plenty of people who want to see us fail,” he continued, his grip tightening slightly. “but they don’t matter. what matters is that we don’t give them the satisfaction. we fight together.”

the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you saw beyond the cold exterior he had always shown you. there was something deeper there, something raw and unspoken. a partnership.

but the closeness also brought something else—a heat that had always been there between you, simmering beneath the surface. his hands lingered on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above your collarbone, and suddenly the room felt smaller, the air thicker.

“you think i’m strong?” you asked, your voice quieter now, tinged with something more vulnerable. something real.

heeseung’s gaze flicked down to your lips, just for a moment, before returning to your eyes. his voice was rough when he spoke, low and filled with an unspoken promise. “i’ve always known.”

the charged air between you was impossible to ignore now. his fingers slid from your shoulders to your arms, the touch sending a jolt of warmth through you. it wasn’t just the weight of responsibility pressing down on you—it was him, his closeness, the undeniable pull you had both been dancing around for weeks.

you could feel the tension in every inch of your body, your heart racing as heeseung’s hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer, but still leaving just enough space for doubt. he hesitated, as if waiting for you to push him away, to remind him of the enmity that had defined your relationship for so long.

but you didn’t. instead, you leaned into him, your hands tentatively reaching up to rest on his chest. the fabric of his shirt was soft under your fingers, but beneath it, you could feel the steady beat of his heart, as rapid as your own.

“maybe i’ve been wrong about you,” you whispered, your breath hitching as the tension between you reached a breaking point.

heeseung’s eyes darkened at your words, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “maybe you have,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. but there was something softer there too, something almost tender.

before you could talk yourself out of it, you closed the distance between you and kissed him.

the kiss was like nothing you had ever experienced—fierce, desperate, and full of the years of unresolved tension between you. it was as if all the walls you had built around yourselves were crumbling in an instant, leaving nothing but the raw, undeniable attraction that had always simmered beneath the surface.

heeseung responded instantly, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

it was overwhelming, the intensity of the moment, the way your bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, the way every touch sent a shockwave of desire coursing through you. you had spent so long fighting him, fighting this, and now, as his hands slid up your back, holding you close, you wondered why you had ever resisted.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. heeseung’s grip on your waist didn’t loosen, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat as wild as your own.

“we can’t keep pretending,” you whispered, your voice shaky, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

heeseung’s eyes met yours, the vulnerability and uncertainty in his gaze mirroring your own. “no, we can’t,” he agreed, his voice rough with emotion.

for a moment, the world hung in the balance. you had crossed a line, and there was no going back. everything between you had shifted, and the question now wasn’t whether you would move forward—it was how.

heeseung’s thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch so tender it nearly broke you. “we’re in this together,” he said softly, the weight of his words heavy with meaning.

this time, there was no need to say anything more. you both understood what had changed between you, even if neither of you was ready to fully admit it. and though the path ahead was uncertain, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t facing it alone anymore.

weeks passed, and with each passing day, things between you and heeseung slowly shifted. the cold, sharp walls that had once kept you apart were crumbling, revealing a warmth and understanding that neither of you had anticipated. where there had once been biting words and icy glares, there was now laughter, quiet conversations, and small gestures of affection.

the palace felt different. it was lighter now, with the growing sense of partnership between you and heeseung. your bickering had been replaced with genuine care, and though the wounds of the past hadn't fully healed, you were both learning to forgive. but it wasn’t just the emotional connection that was shifting—there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface. unspoken feelings, simmering tension.

it wasn’t until a grand banquet in honour of a visiting prince from a neighbouring kingdom that these feelings came to a head. you stood at the centre of the ballroom, dressed in a gown that glimmered under the candlelight. it hugged your figure perfectly, catching the attention of more than just heeseung. the prince—prince seojun—had been particularly charming throughout the evening, his eyes lingering on you a little too long, his compliments a little too bold.

“you are by far the most captivating presence in this room, your highness,” seojun murmured, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “if i had known such beauty awaited me here, i would have visited sooner.”

you laughed politely, glancing over your shoulder, searching for heeseung in the crowd. he was across the room, deep in conversation with some nobles, but even from the distance, you could feel his gaze on you, sharp and intense.

seojun continued, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he leaned closer. “perhaps we could steal a moment away from the crowd? i would love to know more about the woman behind such an enchanting smile.”

before you could respond, a sudden shift in the air caught your attention. heeseung appeared at your side, his posture tense, his expression a mix of barely contained irritation and something else—something more possessive.

“princess,” heeseung’s voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous edge to it. his hand slid around your waist, pulling you firmly against his side. the claim was unmistakable. “i believe your dance card is full for the evening.”

seojun’s smirk faltered slightly as he glanced between the two of you, sensing the tension. heeseung’s eyes never left the prince, cold and unyielding.

“of course,” seojun replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i wouldn’t dream of overstepping. after all,” his gaze flickered to you, then back to heeseung, “she’s your wife.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, charged with unspoken meaning. seojun bowed slightly, a smirk still playing on his lips, before taking his leave. but even as he walked away, you could feel the lingering weight of his gaze.

you turned to heeseung, about to make a light-hearted remark about the interaction, but the look on his face stopped you. his eyes were dark, his jaw clenched, and his grip on your waist was firm—almost possessive.

“did he touch you?” heeseung asked, his voice low and tight.

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by his tone. “barely,” you replied, trying to play it off with a soft laugh. “why? are you jealous?”

his eyes flickered with something dangerous as he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “you’re my wife. i don’t like other men thinking they can take what’s mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words. the possessiveness in his tone, the way his body pressed protectively against yours—it was unlike anything you had ever experienced with heeseung. you had always seen him as cold, distant, but this... this was different. there was fire in his eyes, and you could feel it burning between you, a tension that neither of you had acknowledged until now.

“and what if i enjoy a little attention now and then?” you teased, testing the boundaries, wanting to see how far he would go.

heeseung’s eyes darkened even more, and in one swift motion, he pulled you even closer, his hand cupping the back of your neck as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “i don’t care how many men look at you, but remember this—” his voice dropped, sending shivers down your spine, “you belong to me and i belong to you.”

a thrill ran through you at his words, and for a moment, you were speechless, your mind spinning from the intensity of his claim. the ballroom, the crowd, even prince seojun—all of it faded away as heeseung’s gaze held you captive. you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the possessiveness in his touch, and for the first time, you realised that this wasn’t just some marriage of convenience anymore.

heeseung cared—more than he was willing to admit.

your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the emotions flickering behind them. “and what about you, heeseung?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “do you want me to be yours?”

his eyes softened for just a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “you already are,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “and i’m not letting you forget it.”

the banquet had left the air between you and heeseung charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore. his possessiveness, the fierce look in his eyes when he claimed you as his wife in front of prince seojun, had stirred something inside you—something that had been simmering for far too long.

as the last of the guests departed and the palace quieted down for the night, the tension remained, lingering like an unspoken promise. heeseung walked beside you in silence as you both made your way through the dimly lit corridors toward your chambers. though no words passed between you, the air was thick with anticipation, the unspoken pull between you stronger than ever.

when you reached your shared chambers, heeseung opened the door for you, his gaze never leaving you as you stepped inside. you could feel his eyes on you, burning with a need that matched your own. the soft glow of the candlelight cast long shadows across the room, but all you could focus on was the man standing behind you, his presence overwhelming.

you moved toward the vanity, fingers trembling slightly as you began to remove your jewellery. you were acutely aware of heeseung standing behind you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible as he watched your every movement. his silence spoke volumes, filled with desire and unspoken emotions that neither of you had fully confronted until now.

the tension was unbearable. finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, you glanced at him through the reflection in the mirror, your voice soft but steady. “you’ve been quiet,” you murmured, meeting his intense gaze. “what’s on your mind?”

he didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush against the bare skin of your shoulder. the touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers lingered, tracing the delicate curve of your shoulder before he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck.

“i didn’t like how he looked at you,” heeseung finally admitted, his voice low and rough with suppressed emotion. his eyes met yours in the mirror, dark with jealousy and something more—something deeper. “or the way he made you laugh.”

your heart raced at the possessiveness in his tone. you turned to face him, taking in the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes blazed with something primal. his emotions were raw, laid bare before you in a way that heeseung had never allowed himself to show before.

“it was harmless,” you replied, stepping closer to him, your voice softening. “but i can’t say i minded the way you stepped in.”

his gaze darkened, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. you could feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, the hard lines of his frame pressing against your softness. his eyes locked onto yours, filled with unspoken desire, but also with something more—something tender.

“i’m not the kind of man who likes to share,” he said, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “especially not when it comes to you.”

your breath hitched at his words, your pulse quickening as the fire between you flared even hotter. you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at his possessive tone, the way his hands gripped you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“and what are you going to do about it?” you whispered, your voice daring, testing the boundaries as your lips brushed his, teasingly close but not quite touching.

heeseung’s response was immediate. his lips crashed against yours, fierce and hungry, as if he had been holding back for far too long. the kiss was searing, filled with all the emotions you had both kept hidden. his hands roamed over your body, possessive yet tender, as though he was staking his claim but also worshipping every inch of you.

you responded just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. the tension between you, the unspoken desire, it all poured out in that kiss, in the way his body pressed against yours with a need that matched your own.

heeseung’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you toward the bed. the air between you was electric, charged with desire and the intensity of emotions that neither of you had allowed to surface until now. he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze dark and filled with a hunger that made your heart race.

for a moment, he paused, his fingers brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just passed between you. his eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability behind them—the raw emotion that he had been hiding behind his cold exterior for so long.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky but laced with care, as if he was giving you one last chance to pull away, to stop this before it went too far.

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with the overwhelming emotions coursing through you. heeseung, the man you had once considered your rival, your enemy, was now looking at you with a tenderness that took your breath away. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek.

“i’m sure,” you whispered, pulling him down into another kiss, softer this time, but no less filled with the emotions swirling between you.

what followed was slow, deliberate, and filled with a tenderness that you had never expected from heeseung. his hands moved over your body with care, as though he was savouring every touch, every breath. the fierceness from earlier softened into something more intimate, more meaningful, as he explored you with reverence, his lips following the path of his hands.

your name fell from his lips like a prayer, whispered against your skin in the quiet moments between kisses. heeseung’s touch was both possessive and gentle, as though he was claiming you but also offering himself to you in return. the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, but it was the tenderness in his gaze, the softness of his touch, that made your heart ache with something deeper than mere desire.

and as the night stretched on, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you realised that this wasn’t just about passion—it was about the connection you had been fighting against for so long. the rivalry, the bickering, the walls you had both built between you—it all crumbled away, leaving only the raw truth of what you felt for one another.

when it was over, you lay beside each other, your breathing heavy, your bodies tangled in the sheets. the room was quiet now, the only sound was the soft rustle of the fabric and the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth.

heeseung turned to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. his eyes, once so cold and guarded, were warm now, filled with an emotion that made your heart skip a beat. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. it was comforting, grounding you in the quiet aftermath of everything that had just passed between you. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, soothing and gentle, as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

neither of you spoke, but words weren’t necessary. the silence was filled with a sense of peace, of contentment that neither of you had known before. heeseung’s touch was soft now, filled with care as he held you close, his body warm and protective against yours.

and in that quiet, intimate moment, you realised something: this was more than just passion, more than just desire. it was something real, something lasting.

heeseung’s hand continued to trace gentle patterns on your back, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered softly, “are you alright?”

you smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with warmth at the tenderness in his voice. “more than alright,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him.

heeseung let out a soft sigh, his arms tightening around you as if he never wanted to let go. and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the weight of the past finally lifted, leaving only the warmth of the present and the promise of a future you were both ready to embrace.

the next morning, you woke to find heeseung already up, standing by the window of your shared chambers, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the early morning light. he looked deep in thought, his expression pensive as he gazed out over the kingdom.

quietly, you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he stiffened for a moment at the contact but quickly relaxed, his hands covering yours as he let out a soft sigh.

“you’re up early,” you murmured, resting your cheek against his back.

“i couldn’t sleep,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “i was thinking about everything that’s changed.”

you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “a lot has changed, hasn’t it?”

heeseung turned in your arms, his expression soft as he looked down at you. “i never thought this would work,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “but i’m glad i was wrong.”

you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with warmth. the man standing before you was the same heeseung you had known all your life, but now, you saw him for who he truly was—not your enemy, not your rival, but your partner. your husband.

“i’m glad too,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips.

and in that moment, you knew that this was your new beginning. the past, with all its bitterness and tension, was behind you. what lay ahead was a future you hadn’t expected but one you were ready to embrace—together.

as heeseung pulled you into a gentle kiss, the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the window, you knew that this was the start of something beautiful. your marriage, once forged out of obligation and resentment, had grown into something real, something lasting.

and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realised that sometimes, the best love stories were the ones you never saw coming.

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[sweetbonniebel]

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Six

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Masterlist <-previous , next->

minors mdni

110 AC King's Landing

You stood before the mirror as maids adjusted your dress, a long violet gown with dark red threads of dragons, a low cut cleavage and long sleeves that widened at your elbows. The same dress your mother wore when she married your father, seven and ten years ago.

Rhaenyra watched from your bed as the maids frantically moved around you fixing your dress, hair and putting on jewelry. Rhaenyra had to admit that you looked beautiful, the violet material of the gown matched your complexion and the embroidery went well with your red eyes. She never understood how you received different eyes than the Valyrian purple, both of your parents had violet eyes and yet you defied the custom.

Once you deemed that the maids nagging was enough you dismissed them with a flick of your hand. They quickly left your chamber leaving you and the heir.

"You look beautiful..." Rhaenyra said tracing the hems of your gown.

"It would be rather odd if I didn't." You jested, the princess laughed lifting the rather sad mood.

"I will miss you." She said leaning into you.

"As will I. But remember you have Laena, Daemon and a plethora of other ladies who would jump into fire for you." You tried to remind your niece.

"And yet none of them will ever compare to you." She answered, tears were beginning to form at your waterline, you blinked them back to avoid reddening your eyes.

Ser Steffon escorted you to the carriage that would take the royal family to the Great Sept. The familiar sculptures and tapestries of Old Valyria brought a sense of comfort in this rather nervous day.

The Crownlander's armor rattled with every move.

"Ser Steffon?" You called the knight.

"Princess." His gruff voice answered.

"I would like you to become my sworn shield and travel with me to Dorne." You announced, he widened his grey eyes. "A familiar face always makes a person feel more at home, despite being leagues away."

"I would be honoured, princess." He kneeled on one knee in front of you, you chuckled and placed your palm against his shoulder.

"Rise, Ser Steffon."

...

The great sept was packed with onlookers, the small folk collecting outside the gates of the temple. Your brother despite has decided to give you away. The heavy cloak of your house rested upon your shoulders. Viserys took you by the arm and led you to the altar.

"Who gives this woman away?" The septon asks

"I Viserys of House Targaryen King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm give away Princess y/n of House Targaryen to Prince Qoren of House Martell." Your brother recited his verse, his hands took of your cloak as he retreated into the crowd.

"And who takes this woman to be his wife." The septon continued

"I Qoren Martell Prince of Dorne, the lord of Sunspear take this woman, Princess y/n of House Targaryen to be my wife." The Dornishman answered, from your multiple talks you shared over the few weeks you learnt that he was not overly religious. You preferred to marry in the tradition of old Valyria, but Qoren was not of Valyrian descend. According to the council any other ceremony than in the faith of the seven would be an insult to the high septon and the faith.

"In the eyes of the seven you are now bound in holy matrimony. As the father provides justice, the mother mercy, the warrior strength, the smith mends all things broken, the maiden courage, the crone wisdom and the stranger who offers only death, you shall provide for each other with all that the seven pointed star provides." The septon prayed, once he finished he glanced at Qoren.

"With this cloak I bring you under my protection. I will keep you safe, cared for and respected I pledge this in the eyes of the old gods and the new." He draped the orange cloak with a red sun pierced by a golden spear on your shoulders.

"With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife." Qoren recited the verse as you did yours, once the words have left your throat, the prince leaned in and kissed your lips.

"You are now man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever." The septon ended the ceremony and the crowd erupted in applause and cheers. You smiled at your husband and he did the same.

You raised your joined hands in the air and the small folk erupted in cheers, and applause.

"Long live Princess y/n!"

"May your marriage be blessed!"

"The mother will bless you with many children, princess!"

Different shouts echoed through the great structure. You smiled at the small folk and waved and glanced at your husband to find him staring at you.

"You look radiant, wife." He mused caressing your palm with his thumb.

"You look very handsome yourself, husband."

The feast was grand, the guests danced, jested and ate their fill. You watched from your seat at the high table as Rhaenyra danced with Aegon, the young boy barely keeping up. You laughed at the sight happy that the two were getting along.

"Sister might I have this dance?" Daemon approached the high table, you sighed and nodded taking his hand.

"You look ethereal." Your brother said guiding you to the dance floor, where bards and musicians played.

"Thank you." You answered spinning.

"Will you be happy?" The rogue prince asked.

"Since when does it matter? But I will, If not I shall feed him to Vermithor." You jested.

"A true Targaryen."

"I will miss you..."

"As I you. You are my favourite sister after all."

"I'm your only sister."

"Exactly... According to the traditions of our house I would be the one to marry you."

"If that were true I wouldn't marry you, I would marry Viserys."

Daemon scoffed and picked you up to spin your body.

"I would sooner let Caraxes eat me that see you married to our brother."

The thing you dreaded most was the bedding ceremony, not because you were afraid of loosing your maidenhead but because you refused to have strange men undress you while making rude comments as was the Andal tradition.

After a talk with the council, you announced that the bedding ceremony won't take place. Some members, like Tyland Lannister and the Maester had voiced their disapproval but Daemon quickly silenced them.

Your maids carefully took off the heavy gown and detangled your hair, leaving you in your thin linen undergarments. Your husband has been instructed to visit you in your chambers to consummate the marriage. You knew what the act consists off, your ladies explained as did Ser Steffon. Aemma was just ten and one when she married Viserys you were thankful that you were six years older than the Queen.

Steffon's voice interrupted your thoughts, they were rather grim, something a bride should not concern herself with on her wedding day. Qoren walked in, a simple orange robe covered his body. You smiled a bit nervously at the man.

"It will be all right, I will take great care of your needs." His words slightly settled the nervousness that rattled your insides. You nodded thankfully, Qoren approached your form. You sat at the stool of your vanity, the Martell kneeled before you and took your hands into his.

"If you do not want to we can wait." He proposed but you shook your head.

"The court will talk if I have not been bedded by my husband." You responded looking at the man with slight fondness. He nodded and raised his head so he can meet your lips in a kiss.

"Have you done this before?" You asked as Qoren laid you on your bed.

"I have, my cousins took me to a brothel when I was four and ten." Your husband answered truthfully.

"Have you?"

"Of course not!" You protested, Qoren chuckled.

"I did not mean it as an insult, in Dorne we do not care for the brides maidenhead."

"It seems as if Dorne is a paradise for women." Qoren chuckled and pressed his lips against yours.

Qoren took off the long orange robe leaving him only in a thin linen shirt. You could see the outline of his manhood through the material. Your husband gently slid the undergarments from your body leaving you bare. The chilly air caused goosebumps to erupt on your skin, your nipples pebbled.

"You are beautiful." Your husband whispered as he placed kissed from your neck to your nether regions.

"Qoren-" You whimpered as he pressed a kiss on your mound.

"Shh, I will take care of you." He continued his ministrations, pleasure coiled in your abdomen. Breathy moans escaped your lips as you tangled your hand in Qoren's curly dark locks bringing his mouth closer to the place you needed him most.

"Moan louder I wish to hear how good I make you feel." His tongue pressed against your nub. A moan left your lips at the action.

"So good, please." You whispered as Qoren worked faster, the wetness between your legs grew with each passing second. The only thing on your husbands mind was to bring you ecstasy.

"Oh!" You moaned as pleasure rippled through your body, muscles spasming as Qoren licked your pussy clean.

He chuckled and propped himself up on his elbows, the peach fuzz on his chin glowed with your essence. You smiled hazily at him, blush covering your cheeks as you pressed a kiss against his lips.

"I want you to-" You begun but stopped feeling Qoren's cock press against your folds, coating himself in your wetness. "Put your cock inside."

"As you wish princess." The Martell price smiled, pumping his manhood a few times before gently pressing the tip against your entrance. You sucked in a breath at the unfamiliar intrusion. It was different than your fingers, warmer and bigger. Once his tip breeched your entrance a shaky moan left both of you.

"You're so warm." Your husband moaned and inched himself inside. You felt pleasure as his cock caressed your walls.

"Qoren harder." You moaned clawing at his back, the man nodded and pressed himself fully inside you. His pelvis touching yours, as his balls rested against your bottom.

Your body moved with his thrusts, his lips sucking kisses against your skin. Sex felt good, you were sure to do it more often.

"Close, y/n" He mumbled caressing your thigh. His other hand pressed against your nub amplifying your pleasure and brining you closer and closer. You felt him twitch, the kiss he pressed against your breast tipped you over the edge. Your walls spasming around his length triggering his own release. Ropes of hot seed filled your womb.

Ragged breath filled the chamber as Qoren pressed himself deep inside you.

"That felt good." You said caressing your husbands head that rested comfortably between your neck and shoulder.

"It did princess." The Martell smiled, wanting to roll over but you pressed your heel in his back preventing him from doing so.

"It feels good to have you inside me."

Tired from the activities the two of you fell asleep in each others embrace.

...

After a fortnight your husband has departed for sunspear, you stayed behind preferring to fly on dragon back to your new home than endure the endless bumpy ride of a carriage.

You dressed your red and black riding leather, Rhaenyra put your hair into three long braids. You leaned into her touch.

"I hate to see you go." Rhaenyra said kissing the top of your head. You sadly smiled.

"I will come back soon. Time will fly by quickly." You answered, holding Aegon in your arms. Sunfyre was strapped in a cage on Vermithors side.

You blinked away the tears that threatened to fall as you hugged Rhaenyra.

...

Princess y/n left King's Landing in 110 AC to join her husband Qoren Martell in Dorne. It is said that the red keep has lost it's warmth with the princesses departure. - From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

[cuppajj]

Is there anything that could, hypothetically or potentially, cause distrust among the neo beasts towards one another? Something that may cause them to turn on each other is what I'm trying to say.

Also, would it be alright to ask a rough estimate of how many years the entire story spans across?

Oh definitely, the neobeasts are already trying to maintain their whole alliance themselves. Unlike when they were ancients, their relationships have been fraying. Not that it’d be necessary easy to turn them against one another, but there are factors already present:

Save Lily, everyone already doesn’t like Saint Vanilla. They are fully aware that when the threat of the original five beasts are dealt with, when he gets his soul jam half, or if he—makers forbid—actually succeeds in his fruitless ascendancy quest, he’ll kill them all. Cacao, Dragonberry and Cheese have found orchids in their kingdoms already (the former more than the latter), and Cacao is *staunchly* against him to the point he will grow hostile if Saint steps foot in his kingdom.

Versely, Saint still wants to purify all of them, seeing them in the same vein as the rest of life: suffering in sin, desperate for salvation. There’s no changing what he wants to do to them, only ways that will stall him from doing it.

Berry and Cheese are already at odds with each other, frenemies by definition. They constantly bicker over lands both of them are interested in taking, and they gave each other inferiority complexes to varying degrees (Berry more than Cheese). They can be friendly one second, but a powder keg will be enough to sever that connection.

It wouldn’t be hard for Lily to cut ties with all of the beasts (except for Saint) in general. She doesn’t need their help, and she doesn’t need to ask for their approval.

Cacao is really the easiest and hardest one because of his extreme isolation and natural avoidance of the others

As for the second question, right now I’m thinking BAAU takes place over 7 to 10 years? No idea what Crepe’s canon age is, but if they started at 6-7 years old then they’re 16-17 by BAAU’s conclusion, for reference.

However, I also need to figure out how long it’s been with the Neobeasts around, because I want the world to have already been in the process of accepting them as the new normal (enough time for Saint to have his cult, Cacao to have tamed the licorice sea, Berry and Cheese to have conquered and the latter to have rebuilt her kingdom, etc)… so that alone might be three years at least, making BAAU from Lily’s corruption to the finale upwards of 10-13 years. BUT don’t take this as gospel because this has to do with my very incomplete and very jumbled timeline, this is just a rough idea of what I have lol. You can still enjoy the au without making this info canon. Bottom line, it’s a long time

[pianokantzart]

Okay okay! !!! What if!!! .... What if Wario's background in the Movie-Verse is a reverse-isekai.

Wario's a prolific swindler who's been banned from more kingdoms than he can count. After his hundreth failed scam his long-time partner (soon-to-be Waluigi) ditches him, and Wario is left at the end of his rope and a little exhausted with the whole rigamarole.

Then he takes a wrong turn in a busted warp pipe and ends up in Brooklyn. He looks around at the abrasive behavior, streets littered with garbage, advance-fee loans, phishing scams... rental escalation... minimum wage rates... health insurance... and is like "oh, these are my people!!!"

He quickly makes himself at home and becomes fast acquainted with the ins and outs of underhanded business. At first he attempts to hide his physical differences, but soon decides to make his odd appearance part of his branding as he builds his own companies upon the fine line between "legal" and "illegal." Every so often he'll visit his old world to try out some of the "tricks" he's learned until one day, inevitably, he and Mario end up crossing paths.

[yaeggravate]

brief post about kaeya's potential future arc (or why 5 star kaeya will totally happen 🔮✨️)

so something i noticed is that kaeya always removes or distances himself from the end of any situation he's in. (it's much more noticeable in his hangout).

first is crepus's death. he hangs back and doesn't get involved in his final moments.

kaeya disappears in the final section of the ballads and brews event. you can find and talk to every character except him.

in the venti route of his hangout, kaeya stays back when it's time to sing with everyone. venti then drags him back in. (what's odd is that venti didn't even notice he was gone at first 👀 "now you see them, now you don't")

Kaeya: Slipping away before the final verse is sung, before the poet has uttered the last line, before everything has concluded… I don't know, something about it just resonates with me.

klee says kaeya hasn't read her the end of the book series the fox and the dandelion sea yet, which is about a guy stuck in a loop. in somewhat the same vein, in the secret summer event, he tells her a story about the jinni and a shepard boy but changes the ending from what we know from the in game book…

and then we have the prince qubad play, where he quietly exits after it ends. he explains why himself (through nahida's auge):

(Use Nahida's All Schemes to Know on Kaeya, optional) Kaeya: (I always like to extricate myself before things start getting tedious.)

in the same route, kaeya quotes the character jaques from shakespeare's play as you like it

Kaeya: Let me think... "All the world's a stage, and all the people merely players."

which is very fitting considering, quote the wiki:

Jaques takes no part in the unfolding of the plot, and confines himself to wry comment on the action and exchanges with his fellow characters.

he also silently does things for others without wanting to take credit, i.e. being rewarded.

and i think i know why 😏

in his character story, kaeya is referred to as a chess pawn in CN, he then repeats this in his hangout.

Kaeya: But I shall not bow to the will of fate. I am no pawn in heaven's plan.

further emphasizing it's not a random throw away term.

i'm neither chess expert nor chess amateur. but anyone can pull up a wikipedia page 😤

pawns are the only pieces that can't move backward, pawns can get promoted to another piece when they reach the end of the board, and… pawns are expandable, made to be sacrificed for the kingdom.

he even expresses the desire to age backwards….which pawns can't do of course.

A very simple such analogy is the Pawn — the expendable, powerless, nameless foot soldier who may, if his actions are brave and his heart is true, become a Queen (although someone more practised at the game may note that the pawn is really a symbol of why you should never overlook apparently powerless people).

that sounds exactly like kaeya's situation, doesn't it? many people have questioned why kaeya is a 4 star given his importance to the main plot, but i think it could be a deliberate narrative decision. (at least i hope it is 😬)

if kaeya is a pawn he can be promoted to a queen when he reaches the end…. except kaeya doesn't want to, as demonstrated by his unwillingness to see things through till the end.

why would he do this?

simply put, it's foreshadowing 😏

kaeya will have his character arc eventually, where the only sensible path is accepting that he must reach the end because pawns cannot stay pawns forever

Promotion is mandatory when moving to the last rank; the pawn cannot remain as a pawn.

there is some sick sense of irony in him declaring he won't be heaven's pawn, when a pawn can only stop being a pawn by moving forward.

i think kaeya's birthday letter about tcg of all things is also hinting at his arc:

If you think about it, playing cards aren't easy at all — you gotta do the math before throwing the dice, and be extra careful with your every move. One step wrong, and the whole table is turned. When that happens, don't you think it's most amusing to watch your opponent's frustrated face, hmm?

(uh oh, celestia 🤭)

say he does reach this metaphorical last rank, what would that look like for him? gameplay wise it would mean a promotion to 5 star status. story wise? a magical girl transformation into the second coming of fischl.

haha ok but, unfortunately i doubt it's that simple.

something else that has been foreshadowed is kaeya's eventual fate…

Traveler: What did you think of the story? Kaeya: It was alright. I suppose the hero always has to sacrifice himself to save others, and it does make for some good storytelling. But it leaves you wondering how he really feels about the whole thing. Did he ever have second thoughts? Only he can know, I suppose.

Kaeya: My dear audience, I ask you this: Do you believe in fate? If fate decreed that your life was to end in tragedy, what would you do?

Kaeya: I, Qubad, will spend the rest of my days in a foreign land, till I breathe my last in a place far from home.

Kaeya: And anyway, life is short, so we should make the most of the time we have. Right now is the perfect time to relax and enjoy ourselves, and who knows how many other chances we'll get. So come on, what do you say?

Fallen I 还没尽…兴… Haven't enjoyed...to the fullest...

When It's Windy 真是和平啊、可又能持续多久呢？ How peaceful, but how long can it last?

Traveler: Good night, Kaeya. Kaeya: Is it that time already? I'm not sure I'm ready to say goodbye.

let's face it, these are death flags. no, kaeya is not going to perma die, but this might be what he has seen through the Auge der Verurteilung and why he's so reluctant to reach the ending of his story.

but in order to defy fate and become a 5 star you have to throw yourself into the embrace of the immernacht first 😈

[moobloom-mention]

The Broken Pleas of a Familiar Face (And an Exhausted Shadow)

Summary: The Great Sage finds himself a moment of reprieve from his Journey to the West and decides to visit Flower Fruit Mountain for the first time in centuries.

Unfortunately, it's not joyous cheers and festivities that greet him, but his own shadow's tired eyes and lashing tongue.

Content Warning(s): Angst, Brief violence

Word Count: 3761

----------

To find the Great Sage straying far from the side of his Master was an odd thing to discover.

After all, the grand king's predicament was well-versed in both the celestial realm and mortal plane, humanity's fear of Wukong's supposed "freedom" having forced the Heavens to announce that the nuisance would be kept beneath a careful thumb.

Under control, Macaque had interpreted, tail kinked at such an outlandish proclamation. As if Wukong, the epitome of chaos, could ever bare to exist under the cautious eye of another.

And yet two years had reigned since the beginning of his sworn brother's journey to the West, two years since he'd been spared from centuries more of wasting away beneath a mountain. At the first sign of freedom, the Great Sage's shadow had assumed that he'd be visiting his kingdom to meet the newest generations of Flower Fruit Mountain, to laugh amidst monkeys who'd grown up beneath Macaque's watchful eye instead of their righteous king.

But the rulers of Time and the cruel grin of Fate cared not for the occupants of their home, as two years of the king's freedom turned into three.

And three into four.

Wukong's continuous absence from his homeland was such an oddity that it had been the reason Macaque had left the safety of the island's hidden cave in the first place. Had he felt twinges of guilt for leaving the little ones curled up and fast asleep by themselves? Of course, he had been their sole protector for the past five centuries after all, but he couldn't bare the thought of his king's subjects awakening to find him tormented by self-doubt and concern.

Besides, a walk had always done well to dissipate his frequent fears and trepidations of loneliness, feeling welcome beneath the moon's merciful light and the vegetative flush of the island.

Five centuries of recovering from Erlang's fury had done well to regrow the dense forestry, he'd thought kindly, as though it wasn't sinful pride and mockery that such a thought ignited within his chest. Everything about Flower Fruit Mountain was soon to be righteous again, and after having convinced himself of the mantra's truth, he'd waved aside the guilt of leaving the little ones asleep without his presence.

But to feel the breakage of one of his many seals protecting the island? And to find the Great Sage himself, Equal to Heaven, to be the culprit? Macaque had expected the Heavens themselves to come crashing down behind the reckless king, screeching of betrayal and fury.

The sky, however, does not fall as the shadow expects it to, instead calm and but a witness to Wukong's barreling form.

"Mihou!" his king cries, nimbus cloud but a figment of the past as he crashes into his shadow with chitters of delight. It's small blessings to find that the Heavens had not crushed the celestial monkey's energetic spirit, still ever-so-generous with his infectious smile. "How I've missed you."

The foreign sensation of embarrassment carves itself within Macaque's chest at the way his own face floods with relief, feeling at ease enough to reciprocate such a loving sentiment. There's far too much he'd missed in the five-hundred years of the Sage's disappearance, from the playful arch of his king's eyebrows to the subtle gleam of light illuminating his golden pelt. It was a feature so unmistakably Wukong, just as was the way his voice could naturally blend between English and ape-speak.

It was a talent not even the king's shadow had been destined to master, and he finds delight tapping oddly at his heart. How adored will the little ones be to learn of such a quaint detail of their king?

"It's been too long," Macaque agrees, trying his hardest to melt into the embrace of his sun. He feels almost uncomfortably warm within the other's arms, trapped in close range to body heat no pile of little ones could dream to accomplish.

Easily had he grown used to seeking warmth in the comfort of the actual sun, forced to make due in the absence of Wukong.

But it mattered no more, he decides joyously, for his sun had finally broke free from that of his captives and returned to tend thoughtfully to the island.

"How are the little ones?"

"Handfuls," Macaque admits, the vulnerable words uttered freely. It is not often he finds himself willing to express his own challenges, but his king deserves to know the mischievous antics of his subjects.

"The newest generation is curious about your plights with Heaven," he comments, voice soft with joy in spite of the teasing lilt to it. "I'm worried I've run out of stories to tell them of your reckless past."

"Reckless!" his king exclaims, faux offense present in not only his voice but the playful rise of his fur. "I'm sure you've only run out of stories because the rest involves your own mischief."

Guilty the king's shadow may be, but the little ones would never let him hear the end of it should they find out such a detail. "Causing trouble is a requirement to be a General of yours."

Wukong's head tilts in exasperated laughter, practically bouncing on his toes. It's only when Macaque finds himself searching the other's gaze that something amiss makes itself known.

"Y'know, Wukong, you don't need glamor with me," Macaque smirks, unused to seeing the other without his blood-red eyes. "And golden eyes, really?"

"They're fashionable!" the king protests, but the glamor remains. Perhaps the Heavens themselves had made a mark on Wukong's mental state as the king's shadow had feared. Yet it was nothing that time surrounded by little ones could not erase. "Besides, I worry I'll scare someone with them."

"The little ones won't care," his shadow declares with an uncharacteristically kind expression. "They'll just be happy of your return."

Something uniquely anxious captivates the his king's gaze then, and suddenly, it feels as though the scene has almost turned monumental.

A shadow and its owner standing face-to-face, one baring an expression of childish hope and the other of raw emotion.

Wukong had always been the type to extend himself amidst moments of concern, to offer sanctuary for others within a joke or grin. But now his king resides, eyes unfocused as though waiting for the Heavens to condemn him once more beneath a mountain.

"You are staying, right?"

But silence is the only reply.

"Stay."

It's a simple plea, a rare one that drips sorrowful and foreign from his tongue.

Long buried is his pride, forgotten amidst the demanding voices of their subjects that the Great Sage return forever to the domain he proclaimed to be his home. They'd begged Macaque to be merciful and allow them to meet a king they'd only known through the shadow's tales of Wukong, as though their protector had any ability to rise against the Heavens and rescue the chaotic monkey.

Their demand to meet the grand deity had only barely faded in passing time, still eager to see for themselves of the courageous and caring tendencies that had instated Wukong as the island's king in the first place.

The same tendencies and familiar habits that Macaque could never imitate nor perfect to his own liking.

His destiny lies comfortably in between the lines of Wukong's own tales, and there is a reason he remains nothing if not the shadow of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. His job will forever define itself as someone unfearful to stand alongside his sun and protect whomever Wukong wishes.

It was the very reason Macaque had agreed to never stray far from Flower Fruit Mountain in the absence of his king, ordered to protect the kingdom and upkeep the morale of Wukong's subjects that eventually things would be okay. That their king would return soon and beg for forgiveness for ever abandoning his adoring kin.

He is but a monkey who has spent centuries watching the island's population grow from younglings until they eventually pass into the afterlife. And one who had grown to confuse selfishness with selflessness, declaring his aching plead to be from the mouths of the ones Macaque protects, and not from the shadow's own heart.

"I can't."

And there.

There exists the crack, the temperamental divide from reason and logic that defines the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. It's the same split that brings upon the banishment of "Sun Wukong, the Handsome Monkey King", and the very one that declares Macaque to be a hopeless fool.

Ego tainted with surprise, terribly so does the warrior wish for his body to lunge forward, for his mind to grasp ahold of the instinct to lash out against the being responsible for his rupturing sanity and his fear of abandonment. So fiercely does he demand to sink to the depths of Diyu, to the level of the Great Sage, and start a fight against one he'd sworn his eternal allegiance to.

Instead he denies himself the waste of breath that is the question of "why".

"You know I can't."

The Sage's mind and expression stand as firm as the stone that had birthed the stubborn ape, position unchanging in the face of his own shadow.

"You can't," the shadow repeats unamused, his ears long having flattened themselves against his head. "The Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, can't return to his home because the Heavens said so."

Grating is the Great Sage's nervous laughter on his shadow's nerves. "I mean, it's more complicated than that, but-"

"Oh, of course. If I found myself equal to Heaven, I too would happily abandon the little ones to instead kneel before a monk," Macaque agrees, voice venomous with spite. "What, is the cost of your pride to be able to live without the weight of responsibility? To find yourself protecting one instead of thousands?"

Wukong's tail flicks, and the warrior mourns for how familiar the gesture stands. Their bond long extends past that of the centuries his king had spent away from the island; a simple twitch of the other's tail still stands as familiar as the route of patrol Macaque had been taking the day his king was condemned to punishment.

The Sage's calm facade had encountered a crack, and soon his mask of humor was to follow. "He saved me."

How viciously does the shadow grin, if only to hide the layers of disappointment rotting beneath his skin. "Saved you? Don't make me laugh. He serves the very deities who damned you beneath that mountain."

Oddly does such a comment affect his king openly, tail now lashing in irritation. "I wouldn't have escaped elsewise."

Lies had always been an awful thing to pour from the king's mouth, so expertly and beautifully crafted to befit whatever narrative the Great Sage would attempt to create. Had the king attempted such a trick to someone else rather than his own shadow, he may have gotten away with it.

"Bastard," the shadow's lips curl back in a snarl. "Don't lie to me. The Heavens could not leave you to rot forever beneath that mountain. But what did you, notoriously impulsive and selfish Great Sage, do? Traded your kingdom, your most loyal subjects, at the first offer of freedom."

"Mihou, I-"

"It's been four years. Four years and not a word from you, even by letter."

It mattered not how keen Macaque is to the fact that the king is not gifted in writing. However, a true ruler, His Wukong, would have learned just for any chance to communicate with his shadow and kingdom.

"Was being able to stretch your legs worth being imprisoned in a worse way? Was it worth having to use glamor with me to cover the fact that you're tortured the moment you refuse a command?"

The king's head swings, as if to further hide the golden headband he'd attempted to conceal with glamor. How foolish Wukong must think his shadow to be to not recognize the odd hint of glamor not only found in his eyes but forehead as well. Little did the ape ever use glamor in the first place, wearing his scars as though to prove his strength against the trials of the world.

"That's enough."

"No," the warrior objects, voice thin with patience. "It's not enough, is it? If it were, you would be begging, swearing to fight the Heavens once more in an attempt to free yourself of this quest. At the very least, you would have found time to visit the ones you've sworn your loyalty to.

"Great Sage you may be," he spits, furious, "But it's been long since you lost the title of 'King'."

"I am still king-"

So desperately does Wukong play into his shadow's grasp, eager to refute the truth with fury.

"Oh that's rich. Remind me of that the next time I have to explain to the little ones why they'll never be able to meet their king in their lifetime. Your absence is soon to outlast the lifespan of those who were young when you disappeared, and your throne has been reduced to nothing but ivy and a broken legacy of what once was. Why should a king need his shadow to describe what His So Gracious Majesty looks like to his subjects? What am I to tell them if you leave now, and your return is when only I have lived long enough to recognize you? When even the island's oldest generation has solely known your looks from murals and your personality from the bitter words of their elders?

"What is to happen when you return as their proclaimed king, and your subjects turn against you? When they mock you for your arrogance or point at me and-"

("Macaque!" one of the little ones, a peach-furred monkey, had once screeched, eager to disturb the warrior's attempts to bask in the evening sun. It had been during a time in which Macaque was still growing used to such a name, "Mihou" having faded from ape-speak. "Why are you not our king?"

It had been a question that had surely taken the shadow by surprise, uncertain he could trust his tongue with answering. Even still, he kept his response lame and tensely guarded. "The throne does not belong to me."

"But you've been our protector for as long as I've lived," they'd chirped, confused. "Is that not what you've said a king is meant to do?"

"Oh, Èzuòjù," Macaque sighed, his laughter gentle and grin exaggerated if only to hide his true exhaustion. "He'll return someday soon, and when he does, you'll realize that I could never upstage the 'Great Monkey King'.")

The warrior wants to snarl at the way his throat closes over the memory that'd occurred nearly a century ago. Unfortunately, Èzuòjù never lived to see the Great Sage in person, passing at the devastatingly small age of fifty-three. The little one's belief he'd meet the grand king had never wavered, however, even as Macaque held his tail during his passing.

How dare Wukong stand tall with the expectation that he will one day return to Flower Fruit Mountain and be allowed to act as though he hadn't abandoned them? The king was already lucky to of not been turned away the instant he stepped onto the mountain with the knowledge that the Great Sage couldn't stay for long.

"What will happen," Macaque breathes, tempting fate to deliver him the consequence of his words. "When you perch atop your throne and your subjects demand that I am more befitting of its seat?"

He tries not to grow surprised at how quickly his king throws the shadow to the ground, a hand grasping mercilessly at Macaque's neck.

Not often had the warrior ever found himself to be the target of the king's unbridled fury, a powerful emotion capable of shaking the Heavens themselves. It's a terrifying thing to stand in the ire of, surely, but not nearly enough to disturb Macaque's spitting anger.

It shouldn't be easy to reflect upon the loyalty both Wukong and Macaque had sworn upon each other with blood and grinned promises, reinforced through late nights of playful bickers and sparring matches. It was such a bond that meant little had the king and his shadow truly argued against one another,  with the exception of the occasional bared teeth or harsh mutter amidst tension. Macaque had always thought that the patience and trust Wukong had earned over the course of their lives would never be able to dissipate at a moment's notice.

And yet, as he lies with his silver fur growing brown with dust, he can't help but find his chest heavy with fear.

Of all beings, Macaque knew better than most that his king was impulsive and stood not for the tainting of his ego. To an on-looker, it may have seemed as though Wukong would follow through his notorious temper and crush his shadow for testing his patience.

But how foolish it would be for the king to exercise his frustrations on the sole being capable of protecting Flower Fruit Mountain from destruction. It could take years, decades even, to fetch the scriptures of the West, and without a celestial monkey's protection, the island would be prey to the thousands Wukong had wronged in the past.

It shouldn't be satisfying to watch the king's eyes alight with fear of his own as his shadow falls limp, Macaque's stance one of gloating nature in spite of the submissive posture.

"Kill me," the warrior demands with a sneer, two words that he prays will shatter that world of the Great Sage and appeal to his shadow's plea for him to stay. "Go on, banish me from this island. Leave the little ones defenseless whilst you cause mischief with your Master and ontourage of demons. Prove me right. Prove to me that your loyalty lies with Buddha and not the innocents you once swore to protect."

Silence and grief is a pitiful look for the king, the shadow decides.

It's cowardice, resigned, and a mere shell of the explosive sun Macaque had learned to seek refuge and comfort within.

"I don't have to prove a thing."

Gone is the weight that had once pinned the shadow, Macaque instinctively shuffling his red scarf to hide the reddened print on his neck. He would not grant the Great Sage the satisfaction nor guilt of knowing he'd caused any bit of damage.

That for a beat, he'd existed as a threat to the safety of someone he'd once grown so close with.

"Bloodshed isn't needed to prove your betrayal," Macaque comments, his note of the Great Sage's inability to look at him an irritation stirring in silence. "You're going back to them."

"I don't have a choice, Mihou-"

How miserable their native language sounds falling from the king's throat.

"Don't."

Macaque's word is not a plea to be reasoned with, more-so a demand born of selfish desire to keep his world from crumbling.

"Great Sage, 'Equal to Heaven' you are not. You stand before your own shadow, fearful of Heaven's power, of what they will do to you should you think of betraying them. Are you too busy hiding behind your Master to understand that the Heavens will not dismiss you once your scriptures are fetched?"

The king's tail flicks, irritated. "I don't have time for this. Master expected me back three minutes ago. I'm a lucky monkey to of not been cursed with aching headaches already."

How benign of the Heavens to not of gifted the king with six ears like his shadow. Maybe then, Wukong would have debated the logical roots of Macaque's growing fears.

"Don't bother with the pleasantries of 'goodbye'," the warrior dismisses as though his stomach doesn't twist at such a thought. "Go make fun with your Master and demonic brothers."

"That's your final word to me?"

"If the Heavens are merciful, your question will be the last words I ever live to hear from you."

A nimbus cloud swirls beneath the tense posture of the king.

Despite Macaque's wishes, it is a staring content that exists as their true bidding of farewell to one another, Wukong disappearing surely to seek affirmation from his new Master that it had been moral to part with his subjects.

Dense ape, the shadow snarls to himself.

So selfish and naive, unfitting to hold the title of king.

It's a poor coconut tree that pays for the king's idiocy, obliterated by the purple flash of shadow magic. Such a childish rampage would have continued if not for a soft chirrupt, gentle and offering of comfort. It dismisses the warrior's rage at an instant, having grown used to bottle his rage in the face of needing to comfort a little one.

Wukong may have been able to run off and slip beneath the ruling thumb of his Master, but he had not dismissed his shadow of the duty to protect the occupants of Flower Fruit Mountain.

"Hey, kiddo, what are you doing all the way out here?"

How the little one could have bared to slip from the comfort of the island's waterfall by themself is beyond Macaque's understanding. Perhaps, the celestial monkey entertains bitterly, the poor thing had grown nervous of their guardian's absence and wanted proof that they had not been abandoned once more.

It is a fear that Macaque finds himself all-too acquainted with.

"Don't worry, little one. Six-Eared Macaque isn't going anywhere."

The young monkey gives a single nod before they nestle themselves atop the shoulders of the island's rightful warrior.

His tail flicks, adrenaline nothing if not prey to the growing flame of anxiety within his chest.

As furious as he is with the selfish king, he finds Flower Fruit Mountain miserable without Wukong lounging about. The king had never failed to grace the island with care and a sense of belonging Macaque could never replace. It'd be weaponized naivety to not identify that it was longing that had weaved itself between his heart and lungs, a longing for someone so incapable and selfish, yet irreplaceable all the same.

And so he struts, making his way back to the caves with ease as though new expectations and responsibility had not found its way onto his back. Conflict would arise from this, he thought, undoubtedly so. Every shadow was needing of a sun to cast it into existence, and every kingdom was doomed to fail without a king.

How foolish, though, to expect a shadow to be both his own host and owner of such a grand title.

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We have a whopping FOURTEEN books on our radar for today! Check them out--you've got great odds you'll find something to add to your TBR list!

All This Twisted Glory (This Woven Kingdom #3) by Tahereh Mafi HarperCollins

As the long-lost heir to the Jinn throne, Alizeh has finally found her people—and she might’ve found her crown. Cyrus, the mercurial ruler of Tulan, has offered her his kingdom in a twisted exchange: one that would begin with their marriage and end with his murder. Cyrus’s dark reputation precedes him; all the world knows of his blood-soaked past. Killing him should be easy—and accepting his offer might be the only way to fulfill her destiny and save her people. But the more Alizeh learns of him, the more she questions whether the terrible stories about him are true. Ensnared by secrets, Cyrus has ached for Alizeh since she first appeared in his dreams many months ago. Now that he knows those visions were planted by the devil, he can hardly bear to look at her—much less endure her company. But despite their best efforts to despise each other, Alizeh and Cyrus are drawn together over and over with an all-consuming thirst that threatens to destroy them both. Meanwhile, Prince Kamran has arrived in Tulan, ready to exact revenge… Layered with exquisite tension and heart-stopping romance, All This Twisted Glory is the explosive third book in the captivating, bestselling This Woven Kingdom series.

ASAP by Axie Oh HarperTeen

Sori has worked her whole life to become a K-pop idol, until she realizes she doesn’t want a life forever in the spotlight. But that’s not actually up to Sori—she’s caught between her exacting mother’s entertainment company and her father’s presidential aspirations. And as the pressure to keep her flawless public image grows, the last person she should be thinking about is her ex-boyfriend. Nathaniel is off limits—she knows this. A member of one of the biggest K-pop bands in the world and forbidden from dating, he isn’t any more of an option now than he was two years ago. Still, she can’t forget that their whirlwind romance was the last time she remembers being really happy. Or that his family welcomed her into their home when she needed it most. . . . So when Nathaniel finds himself rocked by scandal, Sori offers him a hideaway with her. And back in close quarters, it’s hard to deny their old feelings. But when Sori gets an opportunity to break free from her parent’s expectations, she will have to decide: Is her future worth sacrificing for a second chance at love?

Bless the Blood: A Cancer Memoir by Walela Nehanda Kokila

A searing debut YA poetry and essay collection about a Black cancer patient who faces medical racism after being diagnosed with leukemia in their early twenties, for fans of Audre Lorde's The Cancer Journals and Laurie Halse Anderson's Shout . When Walela is diagnosed at twenty-three with advanced stage blood cancer, they're suddenly thrust into the unsympathetic world of tubes and pills, doctors who don’t use their correct pronouns, and hordes of "well-meaning" but patronizing people offering unsolicited advice as they navigate rocky personal relationships and share their story online. But this experience also deepens their relationship to their ancestors, providing added support from another realm. Walela's diagnosis becomes a catalyst for their self-realization. As they fill out forms in the insurance office in downtown Los Angeles or travel to therapy in wealthier neighborhoods, they begin to understand that cancer is where all forms of their oppression Disabled. Fat. Black. Queer. Nonbinary. In Bless the A Cancer Memoir, the author details a galvanizing account of their survival despite the U.S. medical system, and of the struggle to face death unafraid.

Bright Red Fruit by Safia Elhillo Make Me a World

An unflinching, honest novel in verse about a teenager's journey into the slam poetry scene and the dangerous new relationship that could threaten all her dreams. From the award-winning poet and author of HOME IS NOT A COUNTRY. Bad girl. No matter how hard Samira tries, she can’t shake her reputation. She’s never gotten the benefit of the doubt—not from her mother or the aunties who watch her like a hawk. Samira is determined to have a perfect summer filled with fun parties, exploring DC, and growing as a poet—until a scandalous rumor has her grounded and unable to leave her house. When Samira turns to a poetry forum for solace, she catches the eye of an older, charismatic poet named Horus. For the first time, Samira feels wanted. But soon she’s keeping a bigger secret than ever before—one that that could prove her reputation and jeopardize her place in her community. In this gripping coming-of-age novel from the critically acclaimed author Safia Elhillo, a young woman searches to find the balance between honoring her family, her artistry, and her authentic self.

Daniel, Deconstructed by James Ramos Inkyard Press

A nerdy high schooler learns to embrace his main-character energy in this witty and heart-healing ode to movie tropes, meet-cutes, and LGBTQ+ love. Photographer and film buff Daniel Sanchez learned a long time ago that the only way to get by in an allistic world is to mask his autism and follow the script. Which means he knows that boisterous, buff, and beautiful soccer superstars like his best friend, Mona Sinclair, shouldn’t be wasting time hanging out with introverts who prefer being behind the camera. So when Daniel meets a new classmate, Gabe Mendes, who is tall, mysterious, nonbinary, and—somehow—as cool as Mona, Daniel knows exactly how this is going to play out. Mona and Gabe will meet cute, win their nominations for Homecoming Court, and ride off into the sunset together. Daniel just needs to do a little behind-the-scenes directing. But matchmaking means stepping into the mystifying and illogical world of love, dating, and relationships, where nothing is as it seems and no one knows their lines. And when Daniel finds himself playing a starring role in this romance, he’ll question everything he thought he knew about himself and his place in the world.

The Girl, the Ring, & the Baseball Bat by Camille Gomera-Tavarez Levine Querido

Rosie: Capricorn. Does great in class. Wants nothing more than to get into the prestigious Innovation Technical Institute and kiss this awful school goodbye. Her talisman: a magical jacket from her mother’s past that gets people to do whatever she says. Caro: Leo. Rosie’s older sister. Always been closer to their estranged father – and always butted heads more with their strict mother. A trip to Dominican Republic for her father’s wedding leads her deep into family history that clears up any illusions about her parents she’s ever had. Her talisman: a baseball bat that fixes whatever it breaks. Zeke: Certified Triple Pisces. Up in cold-ass Jersey City living with his aunt after his grandmother dies and his father moves to London to take care of his mother. He crushes on EVERYone – he knows he’ll find happiness in love, and maybe a way out of this depression. His talisman: a manifestation stone that will make anyone fall in love with him. Rosie, Caro, and Zeke – and their talismans – find themselves intertwined in a magical, hilarious, and whip-smart Outsiders for the modern day, written by Camille Gomera-Tavarez, a 2022 Publishers Weekly Flying Start.

How the Boogeyman Became a Poet by Tony Keith Katherine Tegen Books

Poet, writer, and hip-hop educator Tony Keith Jr. makes his debut with a powerful YA memoir in verse, tracing his journey from being a closeted gay Black teen battling poverty, racism, and homophobia to becoming an openly gay first-generation college student who finds freedom in poetry. Perfect for fans of Elizabeth Acevedo, George M. Johnson, and Jacqueline Woodson. Tony dreams about life after high school, where his poetic voice can find freedom on the stage and page. But the Boogeyman has been following Tony since he was six years old. First, the Boogeyman was after his Blackness, but Tony has learned It knows more than Tony wants to be the first in his family to attend college, but there’s no path to follow. He also has feelings for boys, desires that don’t align with the script he thinks is set for him and his girlfriend, Blu. Despite a supportive network of family and friends, Tony doesn’t breathe a word to anyone about his feelings. As he grapples with his sexuality and moves from high school to college, he struggles with loneliness while finding solace in gay chat rooms and writing poetry. But how do you find your poetic voice when you are hiding the most important parts of yourself? And how do you escape the Boogeyman when it's lurking inside you?

I Hope This Doesn't Find You by Ann Liang Scholastic Press

Sadie Wen is perfect on paper: school captain, valedictorian, and a "pleasure to have in class." It’s not easy, but she has a trick to keep her model-student smile plastered on her face at all times: she channels all her frustrations into her email drafts. She'd never send them of course -- she'd rather die than hurt anyone's feelings -- but it's a relief to let loose on her power-hungry English teacher or a freeloading classmate taking credit for Sadie's work. All her most vehemently worded emails are directed at her infuriating cocaptain, Julius Gong, whose arrogance and competitive streak have irked Sadie since they were kids. "You're attention starved and self-obsessed and unbearably vain . . . I really hope your comb breaks and you run out of whatever expensive hair products you've been using to make your hair appear deceptively soft..." Sadie doesn't have to hold back in her emails, because nobody will ever read them... that is, until they're accidentally sent out. Overnight, Sadie’s carefully crafted, conflict-free life is turned upside down. It's her worst nightmare -- now everyone at school knows what she really thinks of them, and they're not afraid to tell her what they really think of her either. But amidst the chaos, there's one person growing to appreciate the "real" Sadie -- Julius, the only boy she's sworn to hate...

Infinity Alchemist (Infinity Alchemist #1) by Kacen Callendar Tor Teen

For Ash Woods, practicing alchemy is a crime. Only an elite few are legally permitted to study the science of magic―so when Ash is rejected by the Lancaster Mage’s College, he takes a job as the school’s groundskeeper instead, forced to learn alchemy in secret. When he’s discovered by the condescending and brilliant apprentice Ramsay Thorne, Ash is sure he's about to be arrested―but instead of calling the reds, Ramsay surprises Ash by making him an offer: Ramsay will keep Ash's secret if he helps her find the legendary Book of Source, a sacred text that gives its reader extraordinary power. As Ash and Ramsay work together and their feelings for each other grow, Ash discovers their mission is more dangerous than he imagined, pitting them against influential and powerful alchemists―Ash’s estranged father included. Ash’s journey takes him through the cities and wilds across New Anglia, forcing him to discover his own definition of true power and how far he and other alchemists will go to seize it.

No Time Like Now by Naz Kutub Bloomsbury

It's been one year since Hazeem's father passed away unexpectedly, and one year since Hazeem got his special ability: He can grant any living thing extra time. Since then, he's been randomly granting people more years to live: his old friend Holly, his study buddy Yamany, his crush Jack. . . . The only problem is, none of them wanted to spend any of that time with Hazeem. Now, Hazeem spends most of his days with his grandmother. When she experiences a heart attack, Hazeem is quick to use his power to save her--until Time themself appears and tells Hazeem he has accrued a time debt, having given away more life than he has left to live and putting the entire timeline in serious danger of collapse. In order to save the timeline and himself, Hazeem must take back some of the life he has granted other people. Suddenly, Hazeem is on a journey through and against time, but as he confronts the events of the past, he must confront the mistakes he made along the way. Hazeem will come to realize that when it comes to time, quality is more important to quantity--but is it too late to reclaim the life he's given away so he can really start living? No Time Like Now is a timely twist on A Christmas Carol that takes readers on a thought-provoking adventure, asking what matters most in life.

Out of Body by Nia Davenport Balzer + Bray

A high-stakes, propulsive YA thriller with a body-swap twist thoughtfully exploring themes of friendship and identity, perfect for fans of Tiffany D. Jackson. Seventeen-year-old Megan Allen has been jumping from friend group to friend group in her high school, trying on identities like outfits. Nothing ever seems to fit—until she meets LC, the adventurous, charismatic girl who appears at her favorite coffee shop one day like magic. Finally, Megan feels like she’s becoming the person she’s meant to be: someone like LC. On the night of their friendiversary, what was supposed to be a bonding experience ends in a waking nightmare. Suddenly, Megan is no longer herself. Too late, she realizes that LC has secrets—dangerous ones. Betrayed by her best friend, thrust into another girl’s life, and targeted by LC’s enemies, she must claim what makes Megan Megan to get her life back . . . or die trying.

Pangu's Shadow by Karen Bao Carolrhoda Lab

There are no second chances in the Pangu Star System. Ver and Aryl, apprentices at the most prestigious biology lab among the system’s moons, know this better than anyone. They’ve left behind difficult pasts and pinned their hopes for the future on Cal, their brilliant but difficult boss. But one night while working late in the lab, they find Cal sprawled on the floor, dead. Murdered. And they immediately become the prime suspects. Their motives seem obvious. Ver, who left her home moon to study the life-threatening disease wracking her body, had a hopeless attachment to Cal that could’ve become twisted by jealousy. Aryl, on the other hand, clashed with workaholic Cal because she valued more in her life besides research. To clear their names, Ver and Aryl put aside their mutual suspicion and team up to investigate Cal’s death. As they search for the real murderer, they uncover secrets that have shaped all of Pangu’s moons… and must decide what kind of future they really want.

Relit: 16 Latinx Remixes of Classic Stories edited by Sandra Proudman Inkyard Press

These sixteen stories by award-winning and bestselling YA authors center a Latinx point of view in an empowering anthology that reimagines classics through fantasy, science fiction, and with a dash of magic, for fans of A PHOENIX FIRST MUST BURN and RECLAIM THE STARS In classic stories remixed, Latinx characters take center stage Pride and Prejudice is launched into outer space, Frankenstein is plunged into the depths of the ocean, and The Great Gatsby floats to an island off the coast of Costa Rica. A shape-shifter gives up her life to save the boy she loves from an evil bruja. La Ciguapa covets a little mermaid’s heart of gold. Two star-crossed teens fall in love while the planet burns around them. Whether characters fall in love, battle foes, or grow through grief, each story will empower readers to see themselves as the heroes of the stories that make our world.

You're Breaking my Heart by Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich Levine Querido

Harriet Adu knows that her brother's death is her fault. I mean, it's not actually her fault, but it still kinda is, isn't it? She would do anything to live in a world where she could take back what she said that morning. Then a strange girl shows up at Harriet's high school – a girl who loves the same weird books Harriet does, who doesn't vibe with anyone at school the same way Harriet does – and that different world suddenly seems possible. The girl speaks of a place underneath the subways of New York, where people like them can go and find a home. A place away from the world of high school, grief, cool people, and depression. A place where one may be able to bend the lines of reality and get a second chance at being a better person. Will Harriet open the door? With You're Breaking My Heart , award-winning author Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich offers a remarkable speculative novel that will hit home for anyone who yearns for that one chance to do things over.

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fic writer self-recs

I got tagged on this by Mardia!

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Took me ages to get around to this because I've been flirting with danger aka writing for fic exchanges again but the thing I love more than writing is talking about shit I've already written, so. Five self-recs of my own work! I'm trying to avoid my usual Greatest Hits-type stuff here and talk about stuff that has an especially affectionate place in my heart.

give you what you need - Stranger Things, Eddie Munson/Jim Hopper/OMC + Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington 

I love writing for kink memes so much, you guys. This is a piece of Stranger Things smut where Steve is the unwilling voyeur to Eddie Munson getting spitroasted by bad men in positions of authority, one of whom is dad bod Chief Hopper, and Steve is super horny and super emotionally confused about it, and Eddie is super emotionally confused and semi horny about it, and then they go watch Highlander in the theater together. I believe in porn conceits played for drama and I also believe in inventing a bad man to DP the other side of your blorbo. 

abracadabra, here's the keys to the kingdom - The Stand, Randall Flagg/Larry Underwood

Writing Randall Flagg doing very bad things to people is my life's joy, and I had a lot of fun writing him doing very bad things to Larry Underwood during the course of that hopped-up coke-crazed house party that leaves him so catastrophically in debt to other bad men. It's really fun to play in Stephen King's sandbox, always, and to unravel some of this novel's threads, but I keep writing Randall Flagg using magic to fuck with people. If I'm being really declarative and bold, I'd say I put all the gross sex stuff in here to remix and re-examine the highly gendered sexual horror around Flagg's cold cold snaky dick, but I also was just not really there for the cold dick at the time. Maybe I will be in the future.

No Shortage Of Blood-verse - Whiplash (2014), Fletcher/Neiman

Fletcher/Neiman Gone Girl AU, my beloved. Is this my "best-written" fic? Probably not. Is it the fic that has given me so fucking much joy? Sure is! 

To The Skies Only - Ravenous (1999), Boyd/Ives

Cold-weather cannibal domesticity with a really narsty bit of flesh-consumption and playing with the canonical healing factor that comes with the film's depiction of cannibalism as almost a form of vampirism. 

oh but jesus was a crossmaker - Cape Fear (1991), Max Cady/Danielle Bowden

This film is exactly the kind of profoundly flawed specimen that gets my brain's wheels turning, and I had a wonderful time writing for it and exploring one of the elements that's the most odd and engaging, namely the deeply fucked villain/heroine dynamic between the wildly sleazy, undeniably dangerous antagonist (by far the most memorable aspect of the film) and the troubled teenage daughter of the nominal MC who hankers to act out but gets way more than she bargained for. I love love love a disgusting crime road trip and I had a lot of fun writing this one. 

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In turn I would like to tag @forthegothicheroine @marypsue @shredsandpatches @jouissants and: youuuuu, the ficauthor reading this.

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✨Introduction✨

Note: This will update as I see fit.

Name(s):

MirrorCatCreditcard, SleepyBurger, or WhipController depending on the account/platform.

To-knows:

If you're thinking about it, just start the conversation. I came on here to interact with people.

Idc what your political or moral opinions are when we talk. Don't be an arse to me, and I won't be an arse to you.

I share more content than I produce. If you have a request for me to write, please just throw it at me.

"sksksksksks" is a choppy hissing noise that I make; it has no deeper meaning than being a noise

Special interest(s):

my spouse, canines (especially dogs and wolves), humans, history, literature, Obey Me, languages, philosophy, the omegaverse, disabilities, Luka (Alien Stage), snakes

Current hyperfixation(s):

Luka (Alien Stage)

Fanfictions (by fandom):

Obey Me

Beyond Our Touch — oneshot, completed

The Madness of Magic — series, irregular updates

Little Mizzi Muffet and the Spider King

Not Even a Mouse — oneshot, completed

The Promised Neverland

They Still Called Me Mother — oneshot, completed

Bungou Stray Dogs

Beat Them and They'll Return an Army; Ignore Them Yet They Swarm — series, hiatus

For the Verses of Time That Dance Across Our Skin — series, ongoing (slow updates)

Quite The Odd Child — series, hiatus

You're Proud, But I'm Just in Pain — oneshot, completed

Death Note

Shivers Not Caused by the Rain's Chill — oneshot, completed

It Was a Normal Evening — oneshot, completed

Played Me By Another, Played Himself a Fool — oneshot, completed

Alien Stage (ALNST)

Sparkling — series, ongoing

Miscellaneous/mixed media

Fictober 2024 — series, ongoing

Personal tag list and uses: (they will be linked underneath)

#mirr's rambles/#mirr rambles — I yapped excessively or did an analysis

#mirr's personal favs/#mirr's favs — whether my own or another's work, it's just stuff I really liked

#mirr's honesty — I spoke what I believe is truth

#mirr answers — I answered an ask or replied to a question via reblog

#mirr speaks — just a regular post of mine with no particular tag needed

#mirr writes — my fanfic discuss

Fandoms/things I read/watch and will participate in discussion about (in no particularly ranked order):

Demon Slayer

Obey Me (video game)

Death Note

Bungou Stray Dogs

Yuukoku no Moriarty/Moriarty the Patriot

Brutal: Satsujin Keisatsukan no Kokuhaku/Brutal: Confessions of a Homicide Investigator

Genshin Impact

Among Us

Undertale

Spy x Family

Jujutsu Kaisen

Kaguya-sama: Love is War

Noragami

The Ancient Magus' Bride

The Misfit of Demon Academy

Mo Dao Su Shi/The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Happily Ever Afterwards (manhwa)

King's Maker (manhwa)

The Promised Neverland

Weak Hero (manhwa)

any series by Idolomantises (ex: Monsters and Girls, Bugtopia, etc.)

Aporia

Black Butler

Eleceed

Dr. Frost (Webtoon)

Haven't You Heard? I'm Sakamoto

I Don't Want This Kind of Hero

I Failed to Oust the Villain!/I Failed to Abandon the Villain

Akuyaku Reijou desu ga Kouryaku Taishou no Yousu ga Ijousugiru/I Was Reincarnated as the Villainess in an Otome Game but the Boys Love Me Anyway!

It's Mine (Webtoon)

Killer Crush (manhwa)

Killing Stalking

Like Wind on a Dry Branch (Webtoon)

Lookism

Mob Psycho 100

My S-Class Hunters/The S Classes I Raised

Navillera: Like A Butterfly (manhwa)

Noblesse (Webtoon)

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

Payback (manhwa)

Roxana (manhwa)

Solo Leveling/Only I Level Up

Steel Under Silk (manhwa)

Teenage Mercenary

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime

The Boxer (Webtoon)

The Case Study of Vanitas/Vanitas no Carte

The Crow's Prince

The Falcon Princess

Kininatteru Hito ga Otoko ja Nakatta/The Guy She Was Interested in Wasn't a Guy at All

Hametsu no Oukoku/The Kingdoms of Ruin

The Knight and Her Emperor (manhwa)

The Lady and the Beast (manhwa)

The Legendary Moonlight Sculptor

The Newlywed Diary of a Witch and a Dragon; The Makeup Remover

The Remarried Empress

The Tyrant's Sister

The Villainess Is Retiring

The Villainess Is a Marionette

Death Is the Only End For the Villain/Villains Are Destined to Die

Saijaku Tamer wa Gomi Hiroi no Tabi wo Hajimemashita/The Weakest Tamer Began a Journey to Pick Up Trash

The World After the Fall

Tomb Raider King

Under the Greenlight

Tower of God

What's Wrong with You, Duke?

any series by Obelis (ex: War and Tea, Meow Are You?, etc.)

Who Made Me a Princess

(The Reason) Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke's Mansion

Empress Cesia Wears Knickerbockers

Roses and Champagne

any series by Brothers Without a Tomorrow (manhwa)

Endless Night Encore

Another Typical Fantasy Romance

Hunter x Hunter

Alien Stage

Low Tide in Twilight/Waterside Night

One Punch Man

Bendy and the Ink Machine

Doki Doki Literature Club

Hell Neighbor

The Stickbot Show

Subnautica

Five Nights At Freddy's

Monster School (Minecraft)

In the Doghouse (manhwa)

Mr. Beta

The Villain That Embraces the Light

Stalker x Stalker (Webtoon)

The Apothecary Diaries/Kusuriya no Hitorigoto

Extras(?):

My former pinned post

My Luka analysis post

Luka enjoyers on this site

(not my document) Mori isn't a pedo

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: Antagonist vs. Enemy

“There are no friendly foreign intelligence agencies. Only intelligence agencies of friendly foreign nations.” Attributed to Henry Kissinger; I suspect I read it in a Tom Clancy book, but it’s still a valid point. Sometimes people in your hero’s way aren’t enemies. They’re antagonists who want a different outcome than you.

This can be useful, depending on how you want to write your story. Sure, sometimes you want straight-up enemies your heroes can smash. Violence! Catharsis! Evil to be thwarted!

But sometimes you want to show off more than just how many walls your heroes can punch through. Sometimes you want to show how they can reach their goals without violence. Or at least without (too many) people dying. That’s where antagonists are gold.

Think the French spies with Phillipe in New York vs. the Army in Godzilla, infiltrating to go after the monster by way of wearing fatigues and chewing gum. (It did make them look more American.) Think Joyce Summers in most Buffy the Vampire Slayer eps, trying to responsibly raise her teenage daughter who keeps sneaking out at night and coming home with bloodstained clothes. Think any captain of detectives trying to go by the book when one of his officers is sure he can get the criminal if they just bend the law a little bit. Or heck, think of the guy from the opposing political party trying to get elected....

(Okay, that one may shade into outright enemies. Still.)

Your heroes don’t want to hurt these antagonists. They definitely don’t want to kill them. So your heroes have to be smart. And part of that intelligence has to include understanding why the antagonist makes the decisions they do, so you can try to work with or around them. 

One thing I’m going to try and do in the Colors ‘verse is have a (potentially) recurring antagonist in Xu Guangqi. Historically he was actually a good guy... for the Ming Dynasty. For the Korean Peninsula, not so much. And since that’s where our heroes are based....

Historically, as a Christian convert, he had to be extra-careful in politics. Emperor Wanli might not notice him. (At this point in time the Emperor is a bit... detached from reality, from what I could find, too much obsession with immortality). But the eunuchs and other ministers knew Xu Guangqi was deeply connected with the foreign Western scholars of the heavens, and that was a potential weak spot.

He also, and quite legitimately, looked at how many men Nurhaci was gathering to his banners (the Eight Banners of the Manchu, later!) versus how hard the Korean Peninsula was hit by Hideyoshi’s invasion. And he knew they were hit hard; he’d been in politics for decades, he’d dealt with the army, he was familiar with what came from there as tribute to the Emperor. 

In this alternate history, he does not know Daehan has taken steps to get a range and accuracy advantage over regular muskets. And since he’s a scholar but not a cultivator (historically he derided mysticism in favor of bringing order to the country), he may not have quite as good a grasp on how Daehan’s wild-farmed ginseng, with its lesser but predictable strength, gives their cultivators an advantage simply in not over- or under-dosing themselves after using magic.

(Note: these advantages go a long way toward evening the odds with Nurhaci, but they still aren’t enough. Xu has good reason to be worried. Jason’s adventures are going to help more later....)

On the third hand he knows Daehan has vampires. This has both kept Ming from getting the upper hand over a lesser kingdom (of course they’re lesser, they’re not Han) and proves they are barbaric and unchristian - feeding on the blood of others! And they’re fighting demons all the time, demons that cannot exist where officials are just and virtuous! Of course they’ll ally with other barbarians!

...You can see where this would make him inclined to oppose anything Daehan, or Daehan’s agents, might pull.

He’s a good man, historically. And I’ll try to get that in. But our heroes will find such an intelligent opponent very inconvenient!

[color-cacophony]

I was going to make a Big Official Review Post about Rayman in the Phantom Show but I don't really have enough complete thoughts to make something comprehensive and organized, but I still want to share some points from my experience with it so uhhh without further ado, here's a bunch of thoughts on what dazzled me and what I thought could have been done better.

Here I go...

I'll start with the stuff that bugged me first because I don't like to end on a bad note:

I think the biggest issue is that giving the player the option to complete each set in any order diminishes the opportunity to have a linear story. Without a series of events building up to the finale, the actual climax doesn't feel as grand or substantial as it should be (it definitely feels like a few lines were cut from the moments before Phantom's first verse with how abruptly it starts). It would have felt more immersive to see actual scenes of the heroes trying to play their roles and have more varied quests based on puzzles or even characters and dialogue (like the search for Sweetlopek's stolen axe), all whilst gradually putting the pieces together that they were led into a trap.

Speaking of putting the pieces together, it would've paid off to have Beep-0 learn from his own arrogance in the past instead of repeating his assertion that he knew what Phantom was up to all along. That part made me kind of sad because I really like Beep-0 and it seemed like they were setting him up to eventually become less uptight and more open to admitting his mistakes, which would be more satisfying and obvious!

As we all know, Beep-0 isn't the only one who repeated himself. I remember an exchange I had with @randomrabbidramblings about our predictions for what would happen in the climax; they were hoping the final showdown with Phantom would not be redundant with his first encounter, having the same battle gimmick as before. Unfortunately that is, in fact, what they ended up doing. While framing it as Phantom being unoriginal or making a callback helps it a little bit, ultimately it made me feel let down (although I love Beep-0's delivery when he reiterates his line from Kingdom Battle. he means business).

As for the aftermath of the battle, I want to know where Phantom went. There doesn't seem to be any sign of him anywhere in the studio. It's really odd, given how this was supposed to be his grand comeback (alongside Rayman, of course), but we don't get even a simple explanation of what happened to him after he was defeated for the second time, unless I missed something. I presume this is his last major appearance in a game (unless they decide to do something completely different with him in the distant future??? wishful thinking but not ruling it out!), so it's a strangely underwhelming and mysterious send-off to our beloved ghostly diva. I would have been bummed that we didn't get lore paintings for him, but the memory entry summarizing his surprisingly short-lived career actually made me laugh and honestly, the thought of him only releasing one album and becoming so well-known just because he's notoriously a huge jerk and a producer of incredibly terrible films is so in-character for him.

Another choice I found unusual was the lack of any explanation as to how he got his voice back, since it's been established that he screwed it up by overdoing it. Although, they must have dismissed it knowing that not everyone is going to find the mural containing the only source of that detail. His voice could have healed over time anyway, but it just doesn't entirely make sense that they don't acknowledge it at all (I did see @bramble-scramble 's post mentioning a detail @randomrabbidramblings pointed out where a gramophone can be seen in a box in the studio's control room and it is supposedly the one Phantom replaced with a new one when he messed it up, but even if that's true, it's still a bit easy to miss).

I understand that a lot of these issues were due to restraints since it's only a DLC and they could only fit so much in, but that goes to show that this concept is a little too big for a DLC, but not quite big enough for a full game.

Now, for the things I loved...

I must give massive props to the artists and animators for taking reference from multiple Rayman games and essentially making the pinnacle of his goofiness. Rayman was HIGHLY entertaining to see (and listen to, thanks to David Gasman) and very lovable in this! And the way his dynamic with Rabbid Peach and Rabbid Mario changes up until the end where he becomes friends with them and realizes that he can work with the Rabbids now instead of against them it's just 🥺 awgh... It feels cheesy to talk about it but it really does make me happy now that Rayman has a chance to be an equal to the Rabbids and have something resembling a mutual understanding.

I appreciate them bringing back characters from the main game and giving them their own sets. Fittingly enough, it's like a curtain call for the final installment of SoH.

The return of Beep-0's swearing. SERIOUSLY IT'S SUCH A SMALL THING BUT IT DELIGHTED ME

The studio's lobby is gorgeous. Absolutely STUNNING I love all the details and the music notation motifs on everything.

Honestly the rest of this is just going to be me gushing about Phantom hehehe...

First of all, I was completely awestruck at the decision to give him a swing/jazz sequence because I love the aesthetic of the whole sassy big band musical number kind of thing so when I saw that Phantom was going to do that I went INSANE. The animation in the song sequences is absolutely top tier. Phantom is ALL OVER THE PLACE, very charming, very energetic. The swing bit made me realize just how unbelievably coordinated he is. Like when he's zipping and spinning around the stage and it doesn't affect his singing at all? Holy crap. Then, I went even MORE insane when rock/metal Phantom showed up. I would have wanted a verse in that style too, but I get that it was cut because it would mess up the pacing of the battle.

I love Phantom's inability to contain his excitement at the start of the battle, his annoyed lines when you destroy the lights, his smug remarks even when he's taking damage. He's just so- I'm just gonna say it- so freaking cute in this! His line deliveries in general made me fall so hard for him, especially "were you EVER a thing, Rayman?". The way he drops his voice sounds so cool...

Regarding his abilities, I thought they were going to explain why he could turn people to stone in Kingdom Battle, but they simply took that detail away. I don't have a big problem with this, as the Stone Deaf ability could have been part of the Megabug's influence (and it makes him at least a bit less OP lol). I'm also satisfied to finally know that he can indeed phase through things like any other ghost and isn't limited to just teleporting.

His death acting has definitely improved since last time, in that it's silly and makes me smile instead of just making me feel embarrassed lol.

So uummmm yeah that's all the noteworthy stuff I can think of! Overall I thought the DLC was delightful during my playthrough, but after I finished it I felt kind of sad because it just didn't feel "thorough". However, given that Sparks of Hope generally improved on so many aspects from the last game, I'm confident that they'll keep adding and experimenting with more characterizations and scenarios and make something even better if they decide to continue with Mario + Rabbids. And even if they don't, we'll always have the amazing fans to continue the story and put even more wonder into this wild crossed-over universe!

Anyway, thank you for reading through this highly disorganized rant/gush! And while I'm at it, thank you to everybody in the Mario + Rabbids community for making such amazing art and just being here to share our love for the series. That means thank you to @randomrabbidramblings @bramble-scramble @salamifuposey @hostess-of-horror @phandrow @pastelprince18 @critterzone13 @hostdoozy @majorpepperidge and more! You guys are super cool and I appreciate you even though I've never directly interacted with all of you, hehe. I suppose all I have left to say is goodnight, so goodnight/day everyone! Until next time I decide to dump more nonsense onto your dashboard :D

[frayedattheendings]

jon bernthal, gay, trans male + he/him/his → isn’t that mark maide? i hear that they’re the huntsman from snow white. i hear they’re 48. they seem to be trusting & empathetic, but also naive & emotional. their aesthetics include fresh footprints on banks of snow, muddied leather boots, scents of dew misting away in the morning sun.

name: mark maide nicknames: the huntsman age: fourty-eight face claim: jon bernthal height: 5ft 11in dominant hand: ambidextrous occupation: huntsman, mercenary tale: snow white

positive traits: Patient, Gentle, Empathetic, Trusting, Milf. negative traits: Aloof, Oblivious, Distant, Naive, Emotional. quirks: Not very talkative, enjoys the company of wolves compared to people. pet peeves: people who interrupt others, impulsivity, callousness.

sexual orientation: gay, but you never know~ 😉 sexual position: verse

biography, if you'd like: s o o n .

Growing up along side Grimhilde in poverty, Mark helped their family in many ways in order to advance in society. His younger days included spending many hours working at mills, mines, and managing taverns - at times helping guests warm their beds as well. Anything that could help get a bit more gold, Mark was often inclined to try. His curiosity often lent itself to scrutiny when it came to the odd jobs Mark would take on. As kingdoms came and went and wars were waged, Mark found himself serving under a rainbow of different banners. The knack for being able to do the odd job began to earn him a reputation amongst the kingdoms.

The armor laden path Mark walked on was a different compared to his brother's, but still aimed to pull each other out of their past. He had begun the process of retiring from mercenary work - the blood soaked memories of his many services being very persuasive. However, once he was visited by his brother, Mark could already feel himself unable to say no to him - a habit he would unfortunately plague his fate.

He didn't get a chance to see Grimhilde's rise, but the one sight he couldn't help give a large smile for was of his brother in front of him, alive, safe and hopefully happy. As he would come to learn, it was not quite the case. Grimhilde's hold on the throne seemed to be just outside of reach. According to what was told to him by his brother, all that was standing in Grimhilde's way was the terror he had called Biancenieves - Grimhilde's step-son and Mark's only known step-nephew.

There was a faint hesitance in going along with his plot, but wanting to see his brother's wishes granted above his own, Mark sought out his step-nephew. With haste, Mark was able to find Biance Nieves in the woods and with sharpened knife, he came close to ending his step-nephew's life. As he watched Biance's plight and what he thought was acceptance of his demise, Mark decides to disobey his brother and let's Biancenieves live. It was a rough thought to accept, but not wanting to die by his brother's hand, Mark escapes alongside Biancenieves. He teaches his step-nephew hunting techniques to survive. However, as time with him grew, Mark knew staying close to Biancenieves would only do more bad than good. It would only be a matter of time before Grimhilde came to look for him too.

Hoping there would be mercy from his brother, Mark gave Grimhilde the heart of a stag that Biancenieves had given him in place of his step-nephew's. Branded as a traitor for not bringing his brother the heart of Biance Nieves, Mark was sent to Grimhilde's dungeons. He had his heart torn out from his chest for good measure. His freedom, actions, and even his thoughts now wrapped around the palm of the Evil King as he now waits by the foot of Grimhilde's throne, awaiting his next command.

[piratefalls]

Fic recs: 2 and 12? 🌷

hi hi hi!!! i am, once again, refusing to follow the single rec rule because i've read too much fic in too many fandoms.

2. A fic you’ve re-read several times

the most immediate one that comes to mind is No I in Team by leupagus and sutlers (mcdanno) because that shit makes me laugh out loud every time.

i haven't reeeeeeeally reread anything for rwrb because i was so busy just trying to keep up to make rec lists, but i know i've reread The Duke Who Loved Me by annesbonny, Inareskai, and schmulte at least twice.

and for 911 it's definitely Hector the Wonder Cat by Phreakycat (buddie) because, again, it made me laugh out loud.

12. A fic you couldn't stop reading once you started

that's so hard because i've bookmarked over 6k fics, so i'll go across multiple fandoms for this one.

the punisher (kastle) has to be in death's dream kingdom by therestlessbrook. stuck with me for weeks after i finished.

for rwrb i'm gonna have to rec my wordsmith friend @alasse9 because here is a map (with your name for a capital) just drew me in from the beginning. she knows how it made me feel lol. (and also for 911 i'll shamelessly pimp her "bobby is buck's dad" fic because it's also delicious.)

ho'okane by Siria (mcdanno) because I love a good marriage of convenience fic.

for destiel, I pac-man'd my way through the put your money where your mouth is 'verse by kototyph because it's delightfully odd and sweet.

there's also so so so many teen wolf/sterek fics in there but for the life of me I cannot come up with one off the top of my head outside of Tiny Houses by ohmyjetsabel, but that one's definitely a heed the warnings fic.

fic rec ask meme!

[shimmerbeasts]

Headcanons for Khaevis (The Dragon)?

Five Headcanons||Accepting.

For the sake of simplicity, I will set these headcanons in Khaevis' BG3/DnD verse as opposed to her Default (Movie) verse.

Khaevis is a hybrid dragon. Her mother was a red dragon and her father was a black dragon, who somehow, against all odds, managed to procreate. Because of this, Khaevis inherited characteristics from both sides of her family. While appearance-wise, her scales are more a darkened brown, tipping into black with dirty golden lines, her build is short and stout with a shorter muzzle and a more cat-like anatomy in terms of movement. Khaevis' physicality is more reminiscent of a red dragon, save for her tail, which is longer than her entire body and almost whip-like in design. Her broad paws allow her to navigate both mountain ranges and marshlands with ease. Her most telling feature though is her breath weapon. Khaevis inherited her mother's fire, however, outside of its gaseous state, it spews forth in a liquid form and its physicality behaves much more like the acid of a black dragon.

Hybrid dragons normally have problems procreating. They are often infertile or suffer from miscarriages. This is a major factor why Khaevis took the loss of her clutch so hard and vowed revenge against the king, who had killed them. The fact that Khaevis had not just been able to mate with another dragon, but also lay a clutch of fertile eggs, which had all hatched into young, had bordered a miracle. So to have those very same hatchlings taken from her, killed before she could even lay eyes on them, had been a devastating blow for Khaevis' psyche. She was relatively young when that happened, but even then she realised that the chance of her giving birth again, was astronomically slim. This is why her retaliation and demand for the offspring of the king until the end of time was so devastating. Khaevis was mad from grief and anger, and she took that out on the king and his kingdom until she had completely devastated it.

If Khaevis is not found in the den and helped by the tadpole gang or rescued from the goblin camp, where she is chained up later, she becomes an enthralled dragon, controlled by the Elder Brain, and appears alongside the other red dragon in the final battle. Should the tadpole gang save Khaevis, however, she becomes a formidable ally to the crew and helps them out during large-scale battles like the siege of Moonrise Tower.

Like all dragons, Khaevis can shapeshift into a brownish-black Dragonborn rogue to accompany the party during their adventures. However, she is not very fond of doing that as Khaevis experiences body-dismorphia during that state. She misses her wings, the usual length of her tail and the ability to fly; and she finds bipedalism very hard to become accustomed to. She can deal with that discomfort if she has grown close enough to the party, but she prefers not to deal with it.

After the Elder Brain is defeated, Khaevis joins Lae'zel as her personal mount and companion. Whether Lae'zel chooses to fight against Vlaakith or decides to stay in Faerun and help out wherever she can, helping the Githyanki gives the old dragon a new sense of purpose and helps her process her grief much better.

[winterreigned]

❤ theon, any verse @prodigum

𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗯𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗻 𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 , ned stark would tell his eldest daughter. a deadly combination of steeled and unmoving winter , and sharp , unrelenting trout. starks and tullys produced obstinate children ( putting the two houses together was a dangerous force within the realm ) , ned and catelyn stark's pups being the proof of this. sansa stark , the storm of wit and banter , pride and ego , that she was , could be a sizable force for one of such petite stature. though nothing truly raged the blizzard within her like theon greyjoy.

they had always been at odds , or so it seemed. perhaps , once upon a time , she allowed foolish girlhood to fuel fantasies. mind dared imagine things that could have been. she quickly learned that there is no reality where her and theon greyjoy were compatible , and these naive dreams were in part to the fact no other boy ( who did not share her blood ) had made it to winterfell. that all changed , however , when her father and king robert deemed sansa the key to peace in the kingdoms. their betrothal had been announced with a grand feast. the sort , in truth , she desperately craved as a young girl , especially in her honor.

it was not her desire , however , that it celebrated her entrapment betrothal to theon greyjoy.

what were they even arguing about again? it is hard to keep up these days. it seems things have only grown more tense between them , and she is thankful a wedding date has yet to be set. sansa could simply not stomach the day their union arrived. he infuriated her , raven locks , piercing eyes. such an arrogant man , so sure of himself. theon had nothing to gloat over , that is , unless making her nauseous faster than the smell from the stables was a competition , then he had bragging rights certainly. blue eyes narrow on him , her fists are clenched at her side as she closes the gap between them. sansa hates the way he gets under her skin , it's like he can get inside of her and operate her brain for her. cause emotions to spike , rationality to subside. he is a true danger , and she cannot help the cold tone that he elicits as she retorts ( to an argument that is as meaningless as a shadow in the dark ).

❝ you are undoubtedly the most repulsive , irritating , entirely frustrating man in all of the north. no , no , all of the real- ❞ though before she could finish her sentence , before she could jab her pointed finger in his chest , he grabs her , shoving her back up against a wall. theon kisses her , and he kisses her in a way she didn't realize ladies should be kissed. in a sort of way that sucks the very air out of her lungs , leaves her wobbly in the knees and light in the head. it erupts something within her , a lustful sort of yearning that she knows unwed women should never possess ( though is it sinful if it's for her own intended? ). when they pull away , sansa is gasping for breath , almost regretful it has come to an end. her eyes flash to him , only momentarily , for anger overcomes her and she storms away , no words thrown to theon.

how dare he kiss her? she was absolutely furious. how dare she like it?