#Ive been looking at a lot of historic paintings

[zombie-bait]

‘The Lowly Magistrate’ by Unknown Artist

Currently imagining the party wandering through some antique shops in Baldur’s Gate and Astarion stumbling onto one of his old portraits from his younger magistrate days. Both the artist and subject are no longer known to the shopkeeper, whose family has just been passing it on for who knows how long.

(also included a quick brunette variant cuz I thought it was kinda funny (it’s giving frat boy Lestat de Lioncourt) and I choose to ignore the fact that high elves can just naturally have white hair. Something about pre-vampire Astarion being almost unrecognizable compared to the man he is now fascinates me)

((also here are some lil detail shots that make me happy))

[reticulating-splines]

WIP - West 70th

1880s-1910s row of Upper West Side townhomes.

Been working on this row of late 19th c. brownstones on and off for the past year now, so needless to say when I heard about For Rent I was hype.

Download Here

This initially started because I was homesick for NYC during the pandemic. Specifically for the area of the upper west side my dorm was in while I was a student. I mainly blame this experience for my obsession with historical architecture - walking along central park west past the Dakota on the way to the subway, smoking on the stoops of the brownstones late at night, going to classes in the wedding cake that is the Ansonia - it was just everywhere, and so, so beautiful to look at.

Except a lot of it is faded glory - buildings subdivided, details chipped or covered in the thickest coats of grime or paint. So I wanted to replicate some of the old New York from around the turn of the century. The one I read about in the Luxe series and saw in the Samantha movie lol.

The basement or garden level of each four-story brownstone will be dedicated to the original purpose as the main workplace of the service staff. Unfortunately no room for the actual garden, so laundry lines and planters are on the roof. There are bedrooms and bathrooms for a cook and a housekeeper/butler, along with the staff dining and the kitchen. The butler's pantry is directly upstairs from the kitchen, and the top floor is almost exclusively made up of staff bedrooms and washrooms.

I usually do the service areas first because they're the most interesting, and there was nothing more interesting than a full edwardian brownstone kitchen. Lots of exposed piping, beadboard, subway tile, and shelves of clutter. Has a separate scullery, pantry, and stairs down to a basement storeroom to keep your best champs-le-sims nectar in. There's also a servant's bellboard in the kitchen and the staff dining room. It along with the "boiler" system are made with tool and CC-free.

The main entrance and parlor are doing their best to continue the gothic revival theme of the exterior. The library and dining room follow in the enfilade starting in the parlor. Since this first house is a corner lot, it has a bit more width and space than a true brownstone. The only actual brownstone I've been inside of is Lady Mendl's, so ofc I had to have an extensive tea setup. Def took a lot of inspo from these two pics alone for these rooms.

The main stairwell and picture gallery lead to three large bedrooms on the second floor, and then up to the children's room and nanny's bedroom on the third floor. I really like skylights. I learned the importance of decent lightwells in staving off depression one semester when my window looked out onto a brick wall

The master bedroom and the children's room above it both have their own private sitting rooms and bathrooms. All rooms have either fireplaces or cast iron radiators.

There's no way this is going to be finished by the time For Rent comes out, so im just going to release it in whatever state it's in when it does come out. The exteriors and interior room layout for all the townhomes will (hopefully) most likely be set by then anyway.

Now available for download!

Also the anniversary of Chez Cromwell is coming up! Ive been gone for the better part of the year due to starting a new job, but I havent been idle. C.Cromwell has been updated for infants and ceilings, which led to me redoing the exterior and almost every room, so a rerelease is coming v soon! Sneak peek below. Happy Thanksgiving!

[caitmayart]

omg i cant believe i stumbled across your blog!!! ive been going crazy over the art this season and now i can thank you for it!!!!

ive been rotating lucy frostblade in my brain. you did such a good job on her. i love how her vitiligo is reminiscent of frostbite and how her hairstyle is not only similar to historical styles from cold climates but also, because of the way she winds the braids into buns, looks like frost swirling on a windowpane!

the agueforts making out with each other was GREAT and youve really captured his energy in all your art of him

thank you for the teachers. especially zara and antiope. im gay.

on the topic of the teachers, the way you drew the mist around the rogue teacher is really cool! i love how from a distance she seemingly disappears into it! you mustve done a LOT of work on character designs and it SHOWS

sorry if youve gotten this question a lot, but what program do you use? im trying to get back into digital art after a long break and am looking for one that works for me!

Hi hi hello! Thank you! 1. Thank you so much!! I adore my girl Lucy, I'm so glad she's had such a warm reception from fans ♥ 2. Bahaha thank youuuuuuuu I had too much fun with that part. 3. YOU'RE SO WELCOME! 4. Thank you! I was kinda going with the stylistic choices the previous artist made regarding ghosts, and I'm also a fan of swirly ectoplasm bubbles :) 5. All good - I use Clip Studio Paint! I highly recommend it, since you can get the FULL program on ipad as well as pc, rather than the parsed-down version of photoshop adobe threw at us. Thank you for brightening my day! ♥

[nebbyy]

Random question. Do you think Baldwin would like puppies or kittens better

King Baldwin - Cats or dogs?

A/N: Mmmmh hard one, took me almost half a day to think about it😭😭 Loved the idea though, I think that this question and the reasoning behind its answer tell a lot about a person.

Couldn't find the name of the painting this time but the painter is by Henriette Ronner-Knip!!

Warning: puppies, but mostly kitties. Jokes aside I took the liberty of adding some historical inaccurate facts about cats' presence in medieval castles just to make the story more fit to my taste (not like historical accuracy is really the point of a fanfic but you get my point).

I'm still really torn but I'd say that it depends on which time of his life that question is asked

If it's during his childhood and first youth, he'd say dogs with no hesitation. They're great companions and so full of life, he'd love to bring a few with him during his hunting trips. He would see his own sprout of energy mirrored in his pawed companions! I see him as owning at least two of them, maybe even more (having almost a pack of dogs was pretty much the norm in noble families)

Dogs are also perceived better by Christian society, as there were quite a few theologists who believed that cats where somehow tied to unholiness or even the devil himself

But as time goes by and his condition worsens, he can't bring himself to stand for so long, let alone play with the dogs or take them out while he rides his horse

He feels bad, though, at the sound of their whines as his servants shoo them out of his bedroom, while he lays motionlessly on his huge bed (in which he usually let them lay while he rested, much to his servants' dismay)

And it is right as he's left laying there, alone and with an aching heart at the loss of his dear friends, that he for the first time notices the gentle meow of his physician's cat. He never really acknowledged his existence, for he always seemed to make it his mission to be as invisible to the people in the room as possible

The cat looked him with mil interest: of course, he knew him, but Baldwin couldn't say the same. He had been silently studying the young king, as his master tended to his everlasting wounds, or as he distracted himself form his duties with a game of chess. All while Baldwin didn't even know that the cat was in the room in the first place

Their exchanged stare didn't last long, because soon the cat jumped swiftly on the bed, waggling his tail like an enchanted snake as he made a few steps on top of the covers

He inspects the space, undisturbed by Baldwin who can't bring himself to make even the slightest movement because of how exhausted his sickness makes him

Finally, the cat seems to find a spot to his liking, right on the spot between Baldwin's side and arm, which is splayed on the side of the bed

The cat makes a few circles before snuggling close to his clothed side, resting his head on his own tail and quietly purring himself to sleep, soon followed by the king himself

That was their first official encounter, one that changed Baldwin's answer at the question "cats or dogs"

He also came to find that apparently there were far more cats in palace

In his late years, he found in those cats a silent and delicate company, it created a space in which he could let go of everything and just bask into the presence of those little balls of fur

And they are so agile and elegant in their movements, he enjoys watching them move around his room, jumping from a surface to the other like it's nothing; he feels like he can move and live through them

And he misses them oh so badly when they leave his chamber to go hunt for food or to simply explore the palace, but as they happily walk back in his room and curl up to rest all over his bed and desk, he almost feels like they're telling him all they've seen during the day simply through their eyes

And that is how Baldwin IV was born a dog person, only to die surrounding his death bed with cats

[agarthanguide]

There's something truly magical about late 19th century history paintings.

It's the last gasp of the French Academic style, but instead of lots of drapery and allegory, they are taking cues from the rising tide of archaeological research and forward-looking school of narrative illustration, which adds up to the first real attempts to depict the past as best they it could be imagined. These paintings have more in common with the old-(ish) National Geographic illustrations of life in ancient Knossos than they do with their contemporaries in the Pre-Raphaelite movement.

From top to bottom-

"Cardinal Richelieu at the Siege of La Rochelle," by Henri-Paul Motte (1881)- depicts the siege by the forces of Louis XIII of France, lead by Cardinal Richelieu, against the Huguenots in the port of La Rochelle, 1627-1628

"Bringing Home the Body of King Karl XII of Sweden," by Gustaf Cederstrom (1884)- depicts the route of the Swedish army following a failed invasion of Norway that ended with the death of King Karl XII, 1718

"Zenobia's Last Look on Palmyra," by Herbert Schmalz (1888)- depicts the Palmyrene Queen Septimia Zenobia in the moments before leaving her besieged capitol, having been captured by the forces of the Roman emperor Aureliuan, 272 AD

"Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks to Sultan Mehmed," by Ilya Repin (1880s)- depicts the supposedly historical story of the Cossacks sending an insulting reply to an ultimatum from the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire, Mehmed IV, 1676

"The Execution of Lady Jane Grey," by Paul Delaroche (1833)- depicts the execution of the teenaged Lady Jane Grey, who had been elevated to the throne of England and Ireland for (approx) nine days in July of 1553. Her execution was at the Tower of London in February, 1554

"The Cadaver Synod" by Jean-Paul Laurens (1870)- depicts the posthumous trial of Pope Formosus by his eventual successor Pope Stephen VI ten months after Formosus' death, 897

"Chlodobert's Last Moments" by Albert Maignan (1880)- depicts the death of the Merovingian Prince Chlodebert, son of Chilperic I, before the tomb of Saint Medard, where the prince had been brought in the hope of a miracle, 580

[whumpinthepot]

@whumpmasinjuly 2023

19. List your fave whump blogs

OK, I wrote as many people as I could find and if I missed anyone I’ll add them in as i come across them ^_^

@gritpyre - long time mutual/friend who does amazing amazing artwork. Its so nice seeing her oc’s change and grow over the years. We stan buff ladies <3

@for-the-love-of-angst - Longtime good friend of mine who I love so much. Their writing is so full of flavour I just want to eat it, its so descriptive and the characters feel so raw with emotion.

@whither-wander-whump - Pucks historical whump is so impressive, I don’t know how she does it. The dialogue and everything is on point. I also just love hearing about her day and what she’s been up to because its always something really cool.

@whumpshaped - Excellent writing and concepts, its always so different and just seem to hit right. Especially the gore and how unapologetically brutal it gets! I always have fun reading its work.

@figuwhump - This is just a really fun art blog that popped up in the last month or so, ive been having a lot of fun with the event and seeing what other people create. Its run by two of my fave people as well so thats just a bonus.

@whump-in-the-closet - Troy has a really fun blog and he does a CYOA story that I really enjoy reading a LOT. Very good descriptions that have a lasting effect on me, theres always something noteworthy when ever I read a chapter. Also, we have similar usernames so his blog always stands out to me haha.

@just-horrible-things - long time friend/mutual with amazing writing and characters. Everything I’ve read from him has been engraved into my brain, and stuck there.

@burntcoffeewhump - Amazing artist and friend!! Seriously, go commission him when they’re open again he’s selling them for very affordable prices and they are professional level work. Its just gorgeous they way he paints.

@demondamage - Good friend/mutual who has such amazing talent for art and writing I am always in awe, and love seeing it every time he posts. The lab whump has me swooning. Period.

@whumpsday - Mill is such a nice mutual to have, and a really great member of the community. I think about his characters all the time, and he somehow manages to organize all of his writing which is something I really admire. He wrote whumper to whumpee trope is such a way that it makes you feel BAD for the poor guy…

@i-can-even-burn-salad - Elli is really funny and writes like a BEAST. I don’t know how she does it but I am so envious!! She has some books finished, and available as Ebooks! Go check them out its seriously impressive, and something to look up to.

@sunshiline-writes - We have a lot in common which is like finding a chest during a treasure hunt. Very good characters, poc whump, lady whumper, and writing that I really enjoy a LOT. I really like her characters they vibe perfectly with me.

@verkja - I love Verkja so much, he’s always a pleasure to talk to and a very good friend. He does adventure fantasy -esque writing with a lot of detail to the world the characters are in. He’s talented in so many artistic ways, I love seeing anything he’s working on any given day.

@ilasknives - LAB WHUMP MOOT, Ila does amazing lab whump with a load of psychological torment stuffed into it. As well as a lot of pet whump concepts that are really fun and different. I love hearing about their oc’s, they feel so real to me.

@redd956 - Redd has the biggest galaxy brain when it comes to world building, prompts, and writing. Its so fun to see all of her posts on my dash, I don’t know how she does it but its a TALENT.

@leyswhumpdump - Leys is really good at plot building with a sprinkle of whump twined into it, which makes those scenes all the more exciting. Leys understands writing structure very well and it makes their writing flow verrrryyyyy nicely.

@blackrosesandwhump - Amazing writer, does circus whump which I LOVE and don’t see enough of, as well as a handful of other stories with different tropes! Lovely mutual and very helpful with writing advice which I am so so so thankful for all the time.

@hollowgast1 - Very good moot to have, we trade drabbles to edit often and its really fun. She writes a lot of supervillain, pet, and lab whump its really heavy on the psychological end of it, which I enjoy immensely. Its always a pleasure to read her works!

@distinctlywhumpthing - Excellent writer, with some completed stories. Their writing is often tragic, and really pull the reader in emotionally. Highly recommend reading, they’re some of my favourite works!

@whump-blog - Red is such a sweet friend, and so good with ideas, I always get so excited hearing about them! He has wonderful artwork and its all linked on his page for easy access. Im so intrigued by his writing I can’t wait for more to be posted!

@alittlewhump - Shy is incredibly helpful I can’t express my gratitude enough she’s so amazing at strengthening writing and I would have never posted my works if it wasn’t for her. She knows how to bring a story to life through words which is such a huge talent that so many people strive to have.

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Writer Education Tag

THANK YOU @ashen-crest FOR THE TAG NOW I HAVE REASON TO SHARE A BUNCH OF THE WEIRD THINGS IVE HAD TO RESEARCH <3<3<3

Rules: Writers often have to research some pretty out-there stuff for our wips. What are some weird, unusual, or oddly specific things you’ve had to learn about or look into?

-- Turkish Reflex bows (construction materials, draw weights, differences from recurves, use in combat, how they're drawn (using the thumb instead of the forefingers) and also dips into variants from other cultures like iirc Mongolian archery) (Related fun fact: I've tried out archery a few times just to get an idea for how it feels!!) -- A Lot of weird animals for creature/fantasy race designs (Gharials, cowtail stingrays, phantom jellyfish, oarfish, orchid mantises, bronze parotia birds of paradise, gyr cattle, etc. etc. etc.) -- Legal terms for things like "this dude is standing in for someone who isn't here" and "knowing about a first degree murder before the fact and not stopping it" (pro tempore and accessory to [crime], respectively) which prompted deep dives into niche lawyer things of which only like 2% stuck in my brain -- Sign language!! And Language-Assisted Signs, because those are different a lot of the time and I wanted to know How and Why to portray Ash and Ice respectfully (Another related fun fact: half of my ASL research has been for use outside of writing, too, because I have Deaf family members. Also, I learned the ASL alphabet when I was 9 and that's come in clutch.) -- Speed of travel for different types of age-of-sail ships, and how to calculate that for a fantasy world where the routes are up to you and not currents of wind and water alike -- Altitude sickness/the Bends -- Ocular autohemmorrhaging (aka squirting blood out your eyes as a defense mechanism. lizards do this a lot) (this was for dragons) -- Differences in symptom presentation between Multiple Sclerosis and Transverse Myelitis (I determined that Lorelei has Multiple Sclerosis) -- Necrosis (Don't look this one up if you have a weak stomach) -- How bog bodies happen and work -- Rabies -- Different forms of paddle boats historically used for swampy navigation -- Traditional Chinese junk rigging, and how it was used in Sampan ships -- Gyroscopes and how they work/what they do/specifically the one in the plane that flew a telescope and had to keep it steady but the name of which ive forgotten -- Many Illegal Kinds Of Knives (did you know certain kinds of switchblades are illegal almost everywhere?? i didn't until semi recently. theyre some of the sexy ones too </3) -- How wing shape affects flight ability in birds -- How owl wings, specifically, are so Quiet (its the feather construction. i still dont quite get it but im tryin) -- Afrofuturistic architecture/the Afrofuturism movement as a whole -- Dancing swords/sabers with a specific focus on their grips and lack of hand guards, and the forms people used when fighting with them -- An Unreasonable amount of sewing techniques which I am now trying to make excuses for annie to reference. -- Fresco painting techniques (ended up not relevant) -- Marble sculpting techniques -- And of course a ton of research into PTSD, traumatic memory loss, OCD, the Autism + ADHD spectra (so i dont just copy-paste myself on everyone), Schizophrenia, etc. etc. for better/kinder portrayals

That is. By Far not an exhaustive list but yeah <3 i enjoy research and talking about the weird shit i learn solely through the hodgepodge of information axes i follow on the regular

I'll tag: @vacantgodling, @space-cadead, @sleepyowlwrites, @athena-anna-rose, and @comicgoblinart!! As always, absolutely 0 pressure to play if you dont want to, and this doubles as an open tag if you do!!

[wind-becomes-lightning]

Hello there, Nisi! I am a newish follower (who is astonishingly not a porn bot!) and see that you are from Germany. I am American but visiting Berlin for the first time this summer. I’m very excited! I thought since you seem pretty friendly that I would ask if you had any recommendations for a person to see/do in Berlin. If you’ve never been (or just don’t want to answer a non-Naruto question), don’t feel obligated to answer. Thank you and have a nice day!

Hii first of all welcome and I'm sorry for everything you have to witness here!

Uh, then second: dont go to berlin. Its expensive and big and loud and people are rude and the city is dirty. I swear I went last year again because I thought maybe I remembered it wrong, but no, still a shit city, sorry Berlin.

But, if you cant divert to a better place (cologne for example) I can tell you some things we did when we went to Berlin in July (my boyfriend is polish and had never been)

The parliament building's glass roof: A really cool thing about the german parliament is that you can go up the roof, which is a big glass bowl that lets you walk up and gives you a nice view of the city.Entrance is FREE!!! but you have to register your visit online first, because there are limited places available. Its absolutely worth it was by far the highlight of our trip. I recommend taking one of the free audioguides because it was very interesting. You can also do a tour of the building which we personally did not so I cant say much about it

I know Americans are not the biggest walkers because they are used to driving around in cars,but I would recommend walking the entire way from Alexanderplatz (which is the one with the big tv tower) to the Holocaust memorial / Tiergarten. You can walk passed what people call the "muesum island", the berlin opera, then you walk down "unter den linden" towards the brandenburg gate. It full of touristy stuff if thats your sort of vibe, my bf made us go into one of those fake bavarian restaurants that serve a maß bier lol. Then the brandenburg gate and from there to the left you find the Holocaust memorial (or you just continue on to the big Tiergarten park / the zoo). I think its an hour walk tho. Bf and me did it several times when we were there.

The holocaust memorial: I assuem thats on the bucket list anyway and its hard to miss. Its worth walking through and letting it all uh.. impress you. Its very well designed to make you feel uneasy when you walk further and further inside. Just note that taking pictures like selfies and shit IN the memorial and climbing on top of the stones outside of the memorial is seen as very rude. If you find it there is a museum underground but ive never been.

Topgraphy of terror: Its another historical place related to the na zi empire etc. Its all outside, you can just walk along it and read along. It goes along a piece of the berlin wall.

The East side gallary: Very famous part where the Berlin wall has been left standing so that artists can spray paint it etc. Its larger than one would think and walking down is very nice. Its also suuuuper touristy and full. The shopping center that is near has a great Japanese Ramen place LOL

Ok the other thing that people like to visit is checkpoint charlie because it was the checkpoint between the american and the soviet sector and history happeend there when the cold war almost became a very very hot war but uh its boring, its tiny, there are soo so so so many americans aroudn LMAO. Walk past if you are in the area otherwise just look at pics online, its not worth the time

With Museums I just dont know that well. I have never visited the museum for the Berlin wall because i know most of the stuff (oops history degree), I dont visit the pergamon museum on the museums isalnd because a lot of items there are stolen and should be given back (tho I did go to the British Museum in londn too so maybe I just dont wanna overpay for entry LOL). The Museum for East germany was real nice and interesting but full full full full you could hardly walk. However Berlin has a Video Games museusm that has tons of games to play so that was a lot of fun.

The Tempelhoferfeld: when east germany was still a thing Tempelhof was its main aiport. Its now unusued of course, but the entire rollfield and such is still there! On nice days is a hotspot for people to just chill out a little or have a bbq.

I personally have not been but if you want you can visit Potsdam which is close and has a nice castle I think

General advise: use public transport. Uber is not permitted in Germany and taxis are overpriced. public transport is everywhere, especially in berlin. Just buy a pass for a few days or a daily pass or if you want to walk a lot just a single fare ticket but use public transport. They run up to late hours.

Airbnbs are not allowed in berlin so if you find one to book its breaking the law and ... like i would generally advise to just not xD

Also, not to be mean, but americans are LOUD in public and easy to hear from miles away. I dont know what it is that makes them feel that they need to scream at each other, but if germans stare at you that might well be it. Also we arent nearly as obsessed with WW2 and thanking the troops as americans are, idk you, but there wont be any veteran discount or some shit :D ive seen people complain about that on the internet if you believe me

phew this is long, my apologies. if there is something else you want to know you can message me again.. or like message me again anyway because i would be interested to know if that helped in any shape or form.

[drifting-wreckers]

I Guess this is a Master Post?

Hey, everyone! I've, uh, not been on Tumblr in a very long time, but thought I might pool some stuff from AO3 over here to join in the Ghost fandom because, well...it's hard not to. I'm hoping to start doing more one shots once my brain calms down some. ;)

As mentioned above, my writing is frequently NSFW, 18+, minors should not interact.

Here's a direct line to my AO3!

What have I written so far?

See the Light: Cardinal Copia/Papa Emeritus IV x OFC: romance, drama, NSFW, 18+, MDNI, sort of doctor/patient - Completed [1]/[2]/[3]/[4]/[5]/[6]/[7]/[8]/[9]/[10]

Sister Imperator filled the long-open position for the abbey physician, but under the strict original laws the church: her identity is to be kept hidden by the traditional physician's mask. Cardinal Copia finds himself a frequent flyer of the infirmary for one reason or another, and the pair find themselves breaking a lot of rules.

Kaisarion: Papa Emeritus IV x OFC: romance, religious fanaticism, drama, NSFW, MDNI, fate/destiny - Ongoing [1]/[2]/[3]/[4]/[5]/[6]/[7]/[8]/[9]/[10]/[11]/[12]/[13]

Rosalyn is the head librarian for the largest library in the city; she loves her job, enjoys her work place and the slew of people that come with it. Everything was otherwise normal and unimpressive until she finds herself face to face with mismatched eyes and skull paints. Copia, for his part, would swear he was just looking for historical texts when he went to the library that day...but she and Copia were drawn to one another immediately, almost instinctively, and as their relationship grows, they find that there is, in fact, something much, much deeper between them than either would expect. And some individuals do not appreciate the friendly Satanists hanging around the library so frequently...

[pitynostars]

rewatching PotD properly let's gooo

"is there anyone out there" "yes." This was hot

"what am I doing, I've got a date to get to" is Dan talking ABT Diane ???

The idea of doing an EP about just the cyber TLs would be so interesting imo ajdkkfdjks... Like they're not converted humans but that's their whole deal usually so like....

"don't get shot" *Dan gets shot* prime comedy

"don't lose my sonic" patronising 13 i hate u

Did anyone else expect Dan to turn evil here the way he hesitated over the controls? XD

The alien shows them what they want right ???? Why does the doctor see a random kid?

"I'm the doctor I'm going to protect you" "the doctor lies" lmao

Ive seen people say like. The train CGI the painting CGI is rlly bad but honestly I can never notice but I don't rlly have eyes for that sort of thing

Ace and Tegan Skype friends <3 the ending should have been like this w all the companions where they're all just swapping adventure stories rather than the support group thing

"should we pick u up again in 24hrs" so Dan is on and off the TARDIS at this point ??? Having dates ??? Assuming w Diane but the only person we see him w in the rest of te EP is Graham so I mean....

"Yaz u and I can see where the cyber masters took that child" so... Yaz saw it as a kid too? Did I mishear the line ABT it looking how u want

"it's not my life" hmm I buy that BC we saw his life before of pretending to b the museum guide and helping out at the food bank and stuff he's a community guyTM sure hate that this is so weirdly rushed less i guess "I can attack it now because I've been with you" I buy less lmao... He's had no growth at all??? Also the way it's framed like he's talking to the doc is so odd when he spent more time w Yaz (unless they've been travelling for more than 3 years ???)

The doctor saying "homes important" just makes me HOWL tho ngl

"I'll b kipping on mum and dads sofa tonight" .... Where have u been sleeping all the other 24 hr breaks youve appaz been dropped off for ???

"not one for goodbyes" idk I buy that w 13 we saw the whole "one happy one sad" the hug goodbye for Ryan and graham

...so why can't 13 tell yaz about this traitor dalek??

also the concept of a dalek realising theyve strayed from their og mission does actually kind of slap but we did just see daleks v daleks in revolution so i'm glad this wasnt the main plot again

sacha dhawans acting<3<3

the scene where he looks in the tsarina (?)'s eyes and he's like "are my eyes not full of certainty" and u see him reflected in her eyes.... SICK. have they mentioned the master is kind of hypnotic yet in this era before this?

where are the dhawan telling the tsar to take a holiday vs donna telling caecilius and family to take a holiday in pompeii parallels.

are they saying dhawan master replaced rasputin nd made an alt universe with this cyberplanet in the sky? or is there some historical note about there being something in the sky at that time (?)

i love that the doctor and yaz both barely react to the hahahahahhaha tardis there's no like. wtf. moment they just head straight in.

i think it would have been sweet for 13 to stroke one of its panels and be like "oh shes not mine." nodding to that theyre telepathic!! but we seem to have forgotten that this era 😔.... i feel this generally in this era the relationship between the doctor and the tardis has been lacking actually like apart from ghost monument and spyfall we barely see them interact... i know its not always a Thing but man i loved 11 & the tardis' relationship so much i'd love to see a writer feature it more again 🥺

ive seen some people claiming yaz reads gallifreyan off the screen in the tardis. that would be cool but 100% you can recognise readings u can tell what data/readings are without labels necessarily like i can go into a car and look at a speedo and i dont need numbers on it to know what the readings mean yk?? either way it does speak a lot to teh familiarity she's got with the tardis and i <3<3 ... yaz and the tardis' growth is fun to think about. do you think she was grumpy that yaz was hanging out with the other tardis on earth in revolution ? XD

DOCTOR: Ah, there's a rudimentary cloaking shield in operation. Soon fix that. The Cybermen have tethered that child into this planet. It was registering as an energy source.

YASMIN: How is that child an energy source?

DOCTOR: Wait, there's more layers to the shield. Oh, not just cloaking. It's a consciousness shield! A creature trying to evade capture, hiding behind a visual projection shield, and this one shows us what we instinctively want to protect, as a defence.

Help me out here. Are they saying that the Qurunx also set up the cloaking ??? or that the cybermen cloaked it and it also put up the consciousness shield? ? or was it all the cybermen?? why would it need both?

also the idea of it showing what you want to protect -- do yaz and the doctor and dan ALL just happen to see a child in this situation then ??

"is this planet your doing?" doctor you literally saw the cybermen kidnap the qurunx to bring here 😭😭😭... YOU FOLLOWED THEM HERE

just once i'd like the "your master awaits" to be subverted/mirrored with "your doctor awaits" ...... the "this country needs a doctor" line is hot but its not the SAME.

"have you got any idea whats going on in outspace in 1916 rn" "strangely enuf. no" this line always gets me aklsjflk i love kate

"I'm Yaz. The only one here who doesn't really know what's going on" sorry babe that's your whole character

MANDIP INVENTING ACTING

i am once again asking ok these paintings got "defaced" so its not an alt timeline??????????? they never fixed this in the end right ??????? sweats. so rasputin was teh master alll along historically (?)... and he jst put himself in paintings in modern day ?? but then the dr says "some people think you're rasputin" ?????

"this is the day youre erased from existence forever" .... how does turning into her erase her from existence 😭

dhawan inventing acting

i still dont understand why this "give her a gun" moment is in there.

wait what happens to vinder in the end??? his ships broken

"you'll feel safer with me in the building" LMAO

"she really doens't want us back in there" and then yaz just drops her home w no goodbye to the doctor coolcoolcoolcoool

ok but why did the master clone ashad specifically what difference does he make over like. any cyberman/cyberleader??

love the russian doll cyberman lmaoooo... reminds me of that arc thing from doomsday/aog... TIME LORD TECH

if i had a penny for every time the doctor is forced into one of their enemies only for it to be purely for transport i'd have 2 pennies which isn't a lot but its a bit funny it happens twice

i love the rasputin moment but i dont rlly get the lead in ngl 😭 hes just like k time for my dance number mid speech. which i suppose like. in character XD

sacha dhawan in thirteens outfit.... i'm bisexual<3 i need to get my ears pierced

"Don't… don't… don't worry. You'll get used to me. Everyone will. I still need a companion to ask and… bask in my brilliance. Come on, Yaz. Let's go on an adventure! Don't make me ask twice. I'd hate to have to bring you down to size." /

"Come on, Yaz! Let's save a civilisation! Let's correct history! Rescue a sick animal! These yours? Oh, bless. Ow! What was that? Some sort of dirty protest? Unless you want to be consigned down a black hole for eternity, you'd better behave! I am the Doctor, and you will obey me." snapping in yaz's face "I AM THE DOCTOR NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

-> this would have hit soo different if this actually was the doctor i would HAVE LOVEDDDD it. first time watching i honetsly thought this was still the doctor and the tardis was reacting like that bc the regeneration was so unnatural (like the way she reacted to jack in utopia) but no 😔

mandip inventing acting<3

"very 80s" "thanks!" LMAO

"gold star and a sticker" u r sick

the random news drone on top of a random 2 planets is so.... ??? i feel like a lot of this was cut somehow aslkfjklgds..

also where's the awkward cut scene of yaz standing around while the master's in the wardrobe picking his outfit aksfjgdlkf

[plays the recorder on a burning mushroom planet] king shit

"quite the strength of character this incarnation" "DOCTOR 6: Our predicament! This is supposed to be handed over. You can't ruin it for the next one. / DOCTOR 5: And you were doing so well." i hateee these bits so much its SO patronising

"i dont do robes" lmao

why is whittaker in the reversed robe/the robe they used for time here hm

the hologram i do like as an idea tbf especially as we've seen the basic version w 9 and 11 and whatnot so her developing it to be more ai is rlly fun ... especially after she saw how handy having three of her in diff places was in flux lmaoooo

"it should only activate under the gravest circumstances. Like if I'm no longer around. Now, that would be disastrous. But I will have very subtly inserted a sonically triggered nano-implant under your skin and passed it off as static electricity. f I remember to do that. I must remember to do that." -- so either 13 has only just finished the hologram ai before this ep OR she KNOWS shes about to walk into some Real ShitTM and takes precautions akjfgldf.....

"HOLO-DOCTOR: Whoa! The emotional receptors on the AI are a bit oversensitive. Apparently, you're annoyed with me? Apparently, I should apologise for something?" this is so fucking funny because it comes across literally just like thirteen was she is always this fucking mean and patronising and borderline manipulative lmao its so askjdfglkdf......... blame it on the emotional receptors being oversensitive sure 🙄

i reiterate my point that most of the things/wins we get are done by the hologram dr, yaz is STILL asking the doc for validation even when shes a hologram 😔

"can't hurt the feelings of a hologram" SHE JUST TOLD U SHE WAS AI. watching this after measure of a man is like. HELLO.

"yeah well i didnt" [tosses bag] I LOVE TEGAN

they cld have mentioned nyssa in this rant tho fr

"i'll distract the cybermen" "how are you gonna do that" [cuts to screaming] hELP ASKFJDGLF... THE COMEDY IN THIS EP IS SO

the shot of ace falling into the console room is so fun actually <3

dhawan hood up<3<3

vinder no idea who the doctor is or their history w the doctor or yaz in this ep is. q funny to me.

"YASMIN: I'm sorry. / MASTER: Are you? Truly?/ YASMIN: Came back, didn't I? / MASTER: We could have fun, you know? I am fun. Different type of fun, but fun. We could travel. You'll see. "

i am once again saying i wish we got dhawan!doctor fr with this vibe

the touch of the ai mirroring the companions emotions is cute but i do still kinda wish we'd got whittaker to do these scenes fully

god i want ace and bill to meet actually

"the joy is to watch them fly" 😭😭😭

"former bus driver" is such a funny thing for graham to think when introducing himself

"wanna see how i dealt with them in 1963?" i'm kissing you on the lips

kate sacrificing herself is so<3<3 redgraves acting here is sooooo

jasfkdj tegan slipping on the ladder... is this a ryan reference or is that purely for plot convenienceTM

if the daleks plan is to destroy the planet through volcanoes then who do the cybermen have left to convert .....😭

wait the tardis in this shot LOOKS SO BAD i never notice cgi and whatnot idc but like LITERALLY THATS OBVIOUSLY A BOX WITH THE BACKGROUND PAINTED IN 😭

jo martin my beloved<3 god i wish she got more to do

vinder shooting the master is sooo<3 king

yazs speech about friendship and love got me actually.

i reiterate its the hologram telling yaz what to do this isnt her win wholly and that frustrates me so much 😭...

also how do the daleks and cybermen and master and vinder SEE ruths hologram when the doctor didnt plant the ai in them ?????? the whole static thing was the flag hello ??

"dont let me go back to being me" pleaseeee

"where there's hope..." YOU DIDNT FINISH THAT. THERES WHAT.

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Elisabeth Kaiserin von Österreich (1972) [Elisabeth Empress of Austria]

This was kind of a weird one, but I really liked it!

The thing that was weird was that this felt way more like a documentary than a film, even though Wikipedia specifically lists it as a film on Elisabeth's page and not in the section with the documentaries, which is why it ended up on my list of Sissi-media, but it doesnt really feel enough like a documentary for me to call it that. Like, it has these sections with narration over montages of paintings and historical photographs where its just some guy recounting various battles and political decrees and what people at the time thought of them, but it also has actors playing Elisabeth, Franz Joseph and everyone else whos relevant in scenes that dont really feel like reenactments, its kinda weird, Ive never seen anything like this. The ending credits call it a 'Dokumentarspiel' which means something along the lines of 'dramatized documentary', and I think that's a very fitting term for it.

Because of that, it didnt really have much of a story and I feel like I cant really talk about this film the way I talked about the others. Like, it's basically just sober recountings of major historical events interspersed with somewhat relevant anecdotes from Elisabeth's life and then towards the end we get less of the historical events as she withdrew from politics and public life, and it doesnt really elicit a lot of emotion from me, which is what I prefer. But I mean, I thought it engaging and that it painted a very interesting picture of Elisabeth. And it was nice getting some actual information for once, Ive mentioned before that I really dont know anything about history and Ive been trying to steer clear of treating anything that's portrayed in any of these films as factual because obviously the people making them are going to take creative liberties for the sake of making a cohesive story, but it doesnt seem like that was the case here. It really makes me want to watch more documentaries, I think I might do something something similar to this project in the future, where I look for a bunch of documentaries and watch them in chronological order, that could be interesting. I probably wouldnt write reviews for those though

Anyway, lets talk about the other stuff. The editing was mostly fine, it was just a bit weird during some of the historical events-segments but it wasnt a big deal. The pacing was good too, given that there wasnt much of a story or a throughline (other than Elisabeth as a person i guess) I think it could have become meandering and feel like a bit of a drag, but it didnt. Although to be fair, this film was on the shorter side, its only 80 minutes. The only part that really dragged on was the scene of Elisabeth and Franz Joseph being crowmed king and queen of Hungary, they show the whole slow ceremony and it was very boring.

And if I'm already talking about scenes that kinda bother me, Elisabeth's assassination was very strange. Like, it shows her and Lucheni walking toward each other at the docks in geneva and it keeps cutting back and forth between them as they both walk at a brisk but measured pace, until he suddenly starts running and then he kindof skids to a halt on his knees right in front of her and quickly stabs her before running off. Elisabeth doesnt really react and the woman who's with her is like "oh no, what happened, are you hurt" but she says it in such a mild way, they straightup did not notice that she got stabbed. So yeah, Elisabeth tells her that everything is fine, shes just a bit shocked and she thinks that guy just puched hef, and she just. keeps walking. The woman is like "are you really sure youre not hurt" and she goes "ah, you know, now that you mention it, I guess Im in a little bit of pain" and she starts trailing off and then collapses. So thats it. Im guessing this was based on like, the real life testimony of the woman who was with her and eye witness reports and all that but still, what a series of events huh.

And last but not least, the actors were all okay. I think they couldve all been better but they werent bad or anything. I will say though, something about Marisa Mell as Elisabeth bothered me, I think its the fact that they start this film off with a bunch of paintings and photographs of her and then Marisa Mell just looks nothing like her. Especially when you compare that to how Peter Fröhlich actually does look quite a bit like Franz Joseph does in the paintings, just less prettyboy-ey and also hid eyes arent so blue and scary. And I mean, the actresses they get to play Elisabeth rarely look like her because they usually just cast generally attractive women with brown hair because yknow, she was supposed to be incredibly beautiful but the beauty standards have changed a lot since then and are shifting, but still.

Anyway, that's it. I didnt want to watch any documentaries as part of this little project, I wanted to focus on the media thats purely fictional, for lack of a better term, but this was a very good one and Im glad I ended up seeing it

[xiuminscheeks]

WOOO new ep yet again :D and im on time too! Last ask i sent was a couple days after the ep aired, cos it took me a while to get round to watching it 😅 anyway ok so:

-How did mr lee get away w that. How did mr jin just accept him pulling a sword on him like WHAT sldjksk. in what world would he not be terrified or at least concerned. Or call for help or something? He just walks off????

Then when he does bring it up its like ahhh he just seemed kinda off yknow? LIKE YEAH he threatened to kill you with a fucking sword in his hand T.T

-GIRL cover your mouth when you cough...

-The snuggling is so soft goddamit, and im a sucker for a sick character being gently taken care of >.< theyre so endlessly sweet ARGH i need someone to cuddle. Where is a guy supposed to find a man like eunwoo in this economy tho. Sigh

-Please..PLEASE cover your mouth when you cough i beg. The whole lot of them theyre just as bad as each other help

-Yul: "ah with your superior instincts youve sensed theyre dating 😌 theyve been trying to keep it a secret, so keep quiet please 😉"

Min ji: "😐"

Yul: *silently, but with a lot of emotion* "..fuck"

-FUCK YEAH MORE HISTORICAL FLASHBACKS!!!!

-Are we finally gonna get the backstory... i bet its gonna be a misunderstanding plot how much do we wanne bet its a miscommunication plot. They've set up mr lee/mountain spirit too kindly to have him be a full villain i feel. Like they show an equal amount of moments that paint him in a positive light to ones that portray him as a villain. So its gotta be something like a miscommunication plot or a 'redeemed at the final moment of death' or some shit, i can feel it.. (and if im wrong. Well fuck me lol)

-Aw even back in time they were fucking adorable. But I have to say the mountain spirit romance plot takes the cake this episode for me, the tsundere storyline always wins 😔 im easy to please,,, now if only they couldve stayed happy on the mountain with the puppy kid T.T altho it feels weird when translated to the modern day cos while she was a married woman in the flashback shes a whole student in present day 💀

-But i am endlessly charmed by the mountain spirit and his pretty brown eyes and his trying so hard not to get attached to the fragile mortals <3 Also i think i reaallllly vibe with the historical aspect so ill pick up a historical drama from your list next (i still havent started another one yet sksjsk)

-My misunderstanding plot theory gains momentum! Mountain spirit looked away for literally the exact second she got stabbed and just assumes it was the dude like. I mean i get it but gAHHhhh!!

-Now now mountain spirit. Step away from the dog. Please dont kill the dOG-.... Ah.. Too late ... (unrelated but why is the vet sleeping at the animal hospital sksjsj? Protestant work ethic strikes again)

-So anyway this episode was made just to make me fall deeper in love with mr mountain spirit 😔 and im really looking forward to confict and confrontations next episode >:] (also thank you for the new recs!!! Ive added them to my list ^.^)

- 🌱

henlo! its always so fun reading your asks!!!!

pls, the coughing with the mouth open had me so mad afsfgsg i cant stand that. at least we got cute ass snuggling tho, so I felt better

the flashbacks had beautiful cinematography and we finally got some answers! the mountain spirit is cute :( he really has such pretty puppy eyes.

I agree that something major happened when he looked away. my theory is that she shaman girl will remember what really happened and let him know, and end that 200 year beef.

also, I'm pretty sure that the uncle wont die. I feel like he wll return to his human form, cause the mountain spirit will break the curse.

2 more days for the new ep!!

[kiwisandmangoesarethebest]

Chapter 1

Idk, this was just an idea i thought of. Its also the first story ive ever really written. Basically kinda historical fiction, set in England during the late 1800s.

Summary: Lady Edlynne is a nobleborn girl-obedient,pretty, and wealthy-but then her father ruins everything by betrothing her to a lord she has never met. Scared, angry, and pursued by her father, she runs away to fufill her dream in Paris.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I grunted as the corset was pulled tighter and tighter. My maid, Alyssa, tied it in the back. My breaths became shallow and fast. The colors of the paintings on my  walls blurred into a swirling rainbow.

   "Is this really necessary?" I asked. “I’m afraid so, my lady." Alyssa replied, as she slipped my dress over my head. It was a fancy thing, with a blossoming waist that just barely hit the ground, and in my favorite shade of periwinkle. She smoothed out the wrinkles and buttoned the back up. 

      I stared into the mirror on my dressing table as Alyssa swept my hair up into an elaborate updo. Recently, I had not failed to notice the way the men stared, and how their eyes glittered with greed.

       Alyssa stepped back, and our eyes met in the mirror. “Happy Birthday, my lady.” Then she sank into a deep curtsy and left me.

      I thought about what this night would mean for me. It was my 18th birthday, and I would be showered with gifts. I wondered what kind of things people might get me, what kinds of things I would put away and never use. Most proper ladies had so many servants, a lot of makeup, and wore each dress they received only once. I wanted paints and charcoals, things I could create art with, things that I would use until they were gone.

       There was a soft knock at my door, and Father entered the room, Mother only a few steps behind him. She gave me the barest hint of a smile and stepped into the shadows. Even though the noble title was hers and not his, she wasn’t made for the spotlight. I think that’s why she married Father, so someone else would take all of the eyes of the people off of her. 

        “Dearest Edlynne,” Father said with a smile. “Are you ready?”

         My brain was screaming no, but on the outside I nodded and mirrored his smile. I was always the perfect daughter; the one who would someday be married to a wealthy lord. I almost frowned at the thought, but stopped myself at the last second. 

        “Your father’s present will be ready at the party.” My mom said quietly. “But I wanted to give you mine now.” She handed me a small box, and inside was a beautiful charm bracelet with a gold chain and five charms: a small ruby heart, a delicate amethyst flower, an alexandrite book, an emerald crown, and a small sapphire paintbrush that represented me. I had always dreamed of the day I would get it. It had been passed down from mother to daughter for several generations now, and a new charm was added for every owner.

        “Thank you.” I said, truly meaning it. I looked at her appreciatively. The present was something that I would wear, cherish, and someday give to my eldest daughter. There was almost no way that my dad’s gift would match the thoughtfulness of hers.  

        “You’re very welcome, my dear.” she said. I lifted my wrist up , and without asking, she knew that I wanted to put it on. The chain was cool against my skin, the only relief to the heat of the room and Father’s stare. 

        The door creaked open as Margaret walked in, with all the grace of a noble-born lady. Her gray eyes were like the eye of the storm, calm and beautiful. 

          “Happy birthday, Edlynne!” Margaret said, sweeping into an elegant curtsy. My mother stood up to give us room to talk. Even though she was younger than I was, she was taller, with long legs suited for her elegant curtsies and circulating at parties.

        “Thanks, ” I said, stepped forward, and squeezed her tightly. She stepped out of my embrace, not sure what to say after that. She swept out of the room as swiftly as she had entered.

        “Wish me luck.” I said under my breath.

        “You don’t need it, honey.” My mom said, giving me a smile that warmed me up. With that, I left for my party.

*pls give feedback, i would really love some <3

[fizzydrink698]

consort iv | minho

pairing: lee minho x reader

word count: 7.8k

genre: historical au, arranged marriage au, enemies-to-lovers

warnings: period-typical sexism, discussions of sex, pregnancy and childbirth, an incredibly awkward tea party, minho and reader sure like to get all close and intense when arguing

summary:

There were a hundred questions still burning in your mind when you looked at Minho, and you longed to just hold him down and force the answers out of him. You were tired, it was late, and you were just so sick of games.

So, when Minho began to turn towards the door, you took a step forward without thinking – catching him off-guard.

The words that slipped out of your mouth were not ones you expected. 

You never expected married life to be so…boring.

It had been a week since your wedding night, and Minho hadn’t made a single move to invite you into his chambers. You woke up alone, you spent the day alone, you went to bed alone. You had no responsibilities, no lessons, nothing to fill your time with. You couldn’t even start up a rapport with the servants around you – now that you were part of the royal family, attendants seemed to swap in and out at a moment’s notice.

You wondered what they were saying, after seeing you spend your days alone. You wondered how often the subject of your marriage came up, how often it was discussed.

It didn’t matter much, in the grand scheme of things, you supposed. But it made you a little more wary, a little more self-conscious.

With nothing else to do, you tried to throw yourself into a new interest – with little success.

Embroidery kept your hands busy, but your mind would wander almost as soon as you started a new piece. You would think of Minho, of his appalling behaviour, of what you could have possibly done to offend him. And before you knew it, you found yourself barely a few stitches in, needle hovering over the fabric for the last twenty minutes.

Horse-riding had disappointed you. You had adored it as a child, delighted when the warmer months came and you were permitted to ride around outside. You’d had such romantic thoughts of setting out on a horse, speeding through the grounds, leaving your cares in the dust. The reality was a slow, menial trot, accompanied by royal guards, dragged on by a silence that only grew with each passing second. You realised that much of your childhood love for riding had stemmed from the talkative boy at your side, shouting excitedly about anything that sprang to mind.

So, here you were. Standing in the grounds, easel set up in front of you, a palette in your hands. Art was supposed to be relaxing, wasn’t it? Delicate work that required great eye for detail and total concentration.

And patience. Lots of patience.

Patience you did not possess at all.

The greens were too cold, the yellows too garish. You were trying to paint the scenic view of the palace lake in the soft morning light, but your hands were too clumsy, your brushstrokes too broad and constantly misplaced. Instead of gently fading into each other, your colours stood bold against each other, harsh and discordant.

The more you worked, the more frustrated you got – and when your hand slipped, dripping green paint onto the placid blue of the lake water, an angry noise – half-scoff, half-growl – forced itself out of your throat and you hurled your palette onto the floor.

This was pointless, this was all pointless. You were just wasting your time, forced to keep maddeningly idle while the rest of the palace seemed to avoid you like the plague.

You couldn’t even muster up a sense of embarrassment at the scene you had made in front of your guards. All you felt was anger, boiling in your veins, curdling in your gut as you glared at the paint splattered across the grass.

You were just so…

Slowly, the anger drained from your body, leaving behind a numbness that hollowed you out. With barely a second thought, you sank to your knees, and then with a sigh, dropped to your back.

The sky above you was a dismal shade of grey. Summer was approaching, but it had not yet cleared the clouds away.

You were so…bored.

Everything just seemed so trivial. A waste of your time – your seemingly unending free time – and your patience. You had spent your whole life working towards something – marriage, a household of your own to run, an estate to manage.

Now, you were just…stagnant. You existed in this strange liminal space between ‘too important to allow enough freedom’ and ‘not important enough to handle responsibilities’.

A week ago, you determined that you wanted power. Days later, you still found yourself at a loss on how to get it.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You knew one option – you’d even had the smallest taste of it. For just a second, on your wedding night, you had power over Minho. There was power in sex, there was influence, there was the opportunity to bind yourself to Minho.

But apparently, you wouldn’t be given that opportunity again any time soon. Was it because Minho had recognised that too? Was he suspicious of your motives?

There was something almost reassuring in that idea. It was easier to stomach being rejected because you were feared. That was better than the alternative. Being rejected because you were unwanted.

As you continued to lay there in thought, your guards apparently grew more and more perturbed – understandably, since you were lying prone in complete silence, staring blankly at the sky. You’d probably be feeling the same in their shoes.

One of them worked up the courage to speak, his tone cautious. “Your Highness?”

“I’m fine,” you replied immediately, making no attempt to move. “…I’m just tired.”

This seemed to reassure him. “Would you like to return to your chambers?”

“…No,” you said, simply.

You were expecting – hoping – for some kind of response. Confusion? Maybe some gentle admonishment? You used to have guards that would scold you for catching a cold, or skinning your knees, or running off out of sight.

Instead, there was silence. You supposed that no one liked to argue with a princess.

You returned to your thoughts.

Power. If Minho didn’t allow you into his bedchambers, how else could you get it? What else could occupy your mind, and stop these awful stretches of boredom?

You thought of what made you feel powerless. Minho was the immediate, painful thought that sprang to mind, and you pushed it away. Something else. Anything else.

And then, you thought of that dinner, the day after your wedding. The conversations the king tried to start with Minho, the references to politics and people and places that mostly flew right over your head.

An idea slowly began to take root.

Something to occupy your mind. The answer had been there all along.

You bolted up to a seated position, thoughts suddenly racing. It was as if that one spark of an idea had set off a blaze in your mind, spreading far too rapidly to be contained. After days of idle nothingness, your mind was engulfed in half-formed plans, excitement coursing through your veins.

Finally, you knew exactly what you wanted to do with your time.

The only obstacle, you realised, would be Minho.

But you supposed that wasn’t anything new.

Launching yourself to your feet, you surprised your guards with your sudden flurry of movement. Even more so when your head snapped around to stare at them with a sudden, burning impatience.

“Minho,” you said, disregarding his formal titles entirely. They knew exactly who you meant. “Where is he?”

The guards stared back at you in silence. Your mind was too wired to gauge whether it was confusion or reluctance that stopped them from answering.

Your jaw clenched. You wouldn’t back down now, before you’d even started.

Power.

“Answer me,” you demanded, glancing from face to face. “I know you guard the royal family as a whole. You rotate in and out far too often to only be assigned to me. Surely one of you knows Minho’s schedule.”

You folded your arms over your chest, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “If not, I’ll be spending the day combing through that palace until I find him anyway. You’d just be saving me and yourselves some time.”

There was a pause.

And then, at long last, one guard spoke. “…His Highness usually takes late morning tea in his office.”

You straightened up, satisfied. “Thank you. I suppose you can guess where you’ll be escorting me next, can’t you?”

The guard was right. You entered Minho’s office – a large room, hidden away on the third floor at the end of a corridor – to find Minho sat at an enormous desk stacked high with paperwork, sipping tea from a delicate, embossed cup.

Your entrance seemed to surprise him, judging by the way his head snapped towards the door the second you arrived.

Propriety urged you to go through the motions of greeting him properly with your head bowed low. It was to no one’s benefit – Minho was entirely alone, even his guards were posted outside the room. If you wanted, you could dismiss protocol entirely and hurl insults at him, with no witnesses.

But there was a petty delight you took in granting Minho the respect he didn’t grant you. A subtle reminder of his rudeness, how easily you could take the high road and be the better person.

So, you bowed deeply, with all the pleasantness you could muster, before you voiced your demand. “I want a tutor.”

Minho stared at you for a moment, perhaps still stunned by your dramatic entrance, before carefully setting his cup down. “How strange. I’ve never heard a greeting like that before.”

You rankled at his dismissive tone, pulling yourself up to your full height. “Oh, my apologies, Your Highness. Good morning to you, may your fortune be great and your good health everlasting,” you said, disdain seeping into your tone despite your syupy words. “I would like a tutor.”

Minho tilted his head, eyeing you – and for a moment, you almost caught a sliver of amusement in his gaze – before he pushed himself up to his feet with a sigh, strolling around his desk to come to a stop at its front, facing you. Leaning back against the edge of the desk, Minho brought his arms up to fold over his chest – and you hated that your eyes caught on that long line of his legs, clad in another pair of riding breeches. Surely they had to be uncomfortable, clinging to his limbs so tightly like that.

“Why do you want a tutor?” Minho asked, and your eyes darted up to his face immediately, aware that you had lingered far too long on his thighs. But if Minho had noticed, there was no trace of it in his expression – a good sign, as you imagined Minho would be irritatingly smug in that situation.

“Boredom,” you said, matching his disinterested tone. “I don’t do well without something to occupy my mind.”

“I see,” Minho replied – and, to your surprise, the corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were hiding a smirk. “So, I take it that art wasn’t a diverting enough pastime for you?”

You blinked, caught off-guard. You’d shown no interest in painting before today, and had only requested an easel and canvas this morning. How had news travelled so quickly?

You almost missed the way Minho’s gaze flickered to the window, almost imperceptibly. When you followed his look, glancing out the window, you were hit with a sudden realisation.

Right there, out in the gardens, in plain view through the window, was the distant sight of your easel – half-painted canvas still propped up on the frame.

He had seen your outburst, probably laughed at the way you had thrown your palette like an impatient child.

Your gaze snapped back to him, face heating. The moment he caught your expression, Minho’s lips finally curled up into a smirk, abandoning any attempt to suppress it.

You gritted your teeth. “It didn’t suit me.”

“Not much does, apparently.”

“Learning does,” you argued, and you found yourself taking a step forward, eager for a confrontation. “I was always a good student.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Minho replied, but that damned smirk was still on his face, as if betraying his true thoughts.

It irritated you. Minho irritated you.

“And I need something to do,” you pressed. “If nothing else is going to fill my nights, why not education?”

Minho’s smirk faded. That was a dig, and not a particularly subtle one, but it felt good to get a reaction out of him.

It was a shame that he recovered so quickly.

“I’m surprised,” he noted, voice tinged with ice, “that you feel the need for a tutor at all. I was under the impression that your education was the main reason you were considered fit for me at all.”

Fit for him.

Anger coiled in you like a venomous snake, poisoning your insides, leaving you sick. Hurting. Ready to lash out.

“It was lacking,” you said, coldly. “And so are you.”

Minho stilled for a moment, frozen, before pushing himself away from his desk. His back was ramrod straight, as he drew up to every inch of his full height, and took one deliberate step towards you.

“Is that your opinion of me?” Minho asks, raising an eyebrow. His eyes are cold. “Lacking?”

If he was attempting to intimidate you, he was failing miserably. You were so caught up in your own anger that he could order your execution and you would still laugh and spit in his face as you were dragged out the door. Minho didn’t scare you. He could never scare you again.

You squared up to him, utterly fearless.

“You haven’t spoken to me in a week,” you hissed. “You refuse to spend any amount of time with me. Yes, I find you lacking.”

“You’ve never been particularly eager for my company before now. Are you so bored that you’re demanding I entertain you?”

“I doubt you could entertain me if you tried,” you retorted, just to be petty. The words were paltry, meaningless, but you needed something to sling back at him, just to avoid feeling so powerless.

Minho didn’t even bat an eye. “If that’s the case, far be it from me to take up any more of your valuable time. I’d hate to bore you even further.”

You blinked, realising you’d handed him the victory quite by accident. There was no clever way to manoeuvre out of this, no witty wordplay to wield like a blade against him.

The only weapon you had left in your arsenal was anger – one that forced honesty up your throat, as blunt as a cudgel. Without even thinking, the words came spilling out.

“Why do you want it to be like this, Minho?”

He paused. Maybe he wasn’t expecting this from you. Or maybe he’d only just noticed how close the two of you had drawn together.

He tried to step back, but you pressed onwards, stepping forward to enter into his space once more, trapping him between his own desk and your frame.

You wouldn’t back down now. You couldn’t, honestly, because it felt like the floodgates had opened and the questions that had been building up inside you for the last week could not be contained again.

“I…I’m trying,” you admitted. “But I just don’t understand why this is the marriage you want. Never speaking, never together? Sleeping alone in different rooms for the rest of our lives? Why is that what you want?”

Minho stared down at you, dumbfounded. He didn’t seem to have an answer for you. From the looks of things, he didn’t seem to have an answer for himself.

Instead, after a long moment of silence, Minho swallowed. “…I’ll look into a tutor for you.”

A tutor.

Right.

You’d almost forgotten.

He brushed past you, returning to his seat behind the desk – allowing it to serve as the perfect physical barrier separating the two of you. In an instant, Minho was calm, composed. He reached for his teacup. “Is there anything else you need?”

You were left standing in his wake, reeling from your own emotional outburst.

You didn’t like this feeling, this awful vulnerability, like you’d been skinned and left raw to face the freezing elements. You hated that only Minho seemed to be able to bring it out in you.

“No,” you said, finally. And because there was an opportunity, a sudden chance to twist the knife, you added. “There’s nothing else I require from you.”

The word was sharp, biting – and, to your horror, you realised the memory of it still stung. You could hear the echoes of Minho’s dismissal, and the way it had left you feeling foolish.

You were almost disappointed with yourself, for still letting it affect you like this.

Minho hesitated, eyes back on you and fixed there. It took you a moment to register that there was a strange…softness there, just a glimpse of it, before it was gone in the blink of an eye.

When he finally spoke, his tone was dry. Rehearsed.

Minho was a blunt man, ignorant to the feelings of others. You imagined he was well-versed in the art of the empty apology.

“If I offended you, I–”

You scoffed, interrupting him almost immediately. “If you offended me?”

“…That wasn’t my intention,” he said, glancing away.

He said it like it was supposed to fix everything, as if it were some kind of dramatic, heartfelt apology.

You weren’t impressed. “How reassuring. All is forgiven.”

Minho rolled his eyes at your tone, which you thought was rather hypocritical. Sarcasm seemed to drip from every other sentence he uttered. “I’m not sure what else you want from me, but–”

“Maybe I want my future king to consider his words better. Even if his intentions are good.”

Minho laughed – a cold, disbelieving laugh that seemed to choke him – at that. “Yes. What could I possibly know about considering my words?”

“Apparently, very little.”

“You’re one to talk.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Am I? And yet, somehow, I’ve managed to avoid offending you this whole time we’ve been married.”

Minho’s jaw tightened. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

You blinked, brow furrowing, and you were ready to press him on this – to determine when exactly he had been so terribly insulted – when the door to Minho’s office suddenly swung open.

You turned, sharply, to see a vaguely familiar nobleman, well-dressed and sporting a carefully groomed beard. It took you a second to place a name to the face. Lord Young, a member of the royal council. You had briefly attended harp lessons with one of his daughters, when you were a child.

His eyes flicker between you and Minho. There was an amusement in his gaze, and you found yourself gritting your teeth.

He turned to Minho, lightly asking. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” Minho declared.

“Yes,” you snapped, at the very same moment.

Lord Young only smiled, amusement growing. “Ah. Marital bliss.”

You bristled. A lifetime of etiquette lessons were the only thing stopping you from retorting, from exploding at him.

Instead, you plastered on a polite smile, and looked back at Minho to bow your head. “Until later, Your Highness.”

Minho kept his gaze on you, even as Lord Young made his way further into the room. “…Apparently so.”

You were about to leave, when you caught it. The briefest flicker in Lord Young’s gaze, as his eyes darted from Minho, to you, to Minho again. You would just dismiss it as amusement, as intrigue after hearing so many rumours about your tumultuous marriage.

But there was something just…slightly off. Lord Young wasn’t watching a lovers’ spat. It was as if he were a chess player, surveying the board.

It was a look that stuck with you the rest of the day, gnawing at you long after you left Minho’s office.

The next day, you received the grim news.

Your mother wished to join you for afternoon tea.

Rumours of your estrangement from Minho had to have reached her by now. You hoped that this tea would be a chance for her to reassure you, to console you and gently guide you towards a solution for your troubles.

You were sure, in her mind, that was what she was doing.

That knowledge didn’t do much to settle your nerves when you entered the solarium that afternoon, to see your mother seated at the table, perfectly poised in her mint-green finery, awaiting your arrival with the sternest glare you’d seen in years. In a moment, you had reverted back to your nine-year-old self, shivering in your mud-stained gown, about to be scolded for playing in the river with Felix and giving the young prince a terrible cold.

“Mother,” you greeted, trying your best to smile. “It’s lovely to see you. It’s been…too long.”

“It could have been sooner,” your mother sniffed, but she still bows her head towards you in greeting. “Your steward kept me waiting days for a response. How busy must the man be if he can’t arrange a simple request for tea with your own mother?”

You blinked.

In times past, your mother would simply summon you every time she wished to speak with you. Afternoon teas were at her whim, not yours.

You outranked her now, you suddenly realised. By virtue of your marriage to Minho. You outranked her and your father.

You weren’t sure what to do with this new information. You weren’t even sure how to handle this information.

So, you pushed it to one side, and took your seat next to your mother.

The spread in front of you was light, delicate, perfect for a mid-afternoon snack. The attendant poured your tea for you, and for a moment, the two of you sat in silence. Once upon a time, it would have been comfortable. Now, you felt on edge, self-conscious, as if your mother was waiting for you to speak – as if every second of silence that passed was another mark against you.

“You look well,” you murmured, politely, taking a sip of your tea.

“Thank you. As do you,” she responded. She reached for her own cup, eyeing you while she did so. “Have you been sleeping well?”

“Yes,” you replied, instinctively – and the resulting frown that appeared on your mother’s face made you realise the mistake you’d just made.

Yes, she had heard. The royal newlyweds, sleeping in separate chambers.

“And I’ve taken to walking in the mornings,” you hurried to add. “The air is quite refreshing.”

“Alone?”

“With guards.”

“Hmm.”

…This might actually be torture, you mused, looking down at your cup.

Your mother wasted no more time, setting down her cup. “And how is His Highness?”

It took everything in you not to make a face. “…Fine.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is he?”

You stilled, and despite your better judgement, you couldn’t help but retort. “Probably. I’d have to ask someone to make sure.”

Your mother’s face turned grim, and your stomach turned at the unimpressed frown being aimed squarely at you and your boldness. “Darling.”

“Mother,” you muttered.

“People are talking,” she hissed, serious, as if this news was utterly disastrous.

“I’m sure they are.”

“Don’t be glib,” she warned, severe. “You’re not in a position to afford that.”

You wanted to snipe back the first reply that sprang to mind – that your new position as princess afforded you quite a lot of new, shiny things.

But your mother had never appreciated your sense of humour.

“I know,” you said, instead. It was only half insincere.

She sighed, and this at least was a little more familiar. Not angry, or concerned. Exasperated, as if you were still a child, refusing to attend her dancing lessons.

As if you were a nuisance, taking up her time, inconveniencing everyone.

You were starting to get sick of that feeling.

“What did you do?” She asked, and you turned indignant.

Of course it had to be something you had done.

The blame was on you. Not Minho. Never Minho.

“Nothing at all,” you stated, taking a bite of your food. It went some way towards settling your stomach, but not at all your nerves.

“Darling–”

“This salmon is so very fresh,” you noted, contemplating the delicate fish on your plate. “I must ask someone how–”

“I’m not here to discuss salmon with you,” your mother cut you off, growing impatient. “Did you do something to anger him? Anything?”

Wasn’t that the question you kept asking yourself?

You swallowed. “No.”

She didn’t seem convinced. “What about your wedding night?”

You froze. How? How did she know? “Mother.”

“You need to be very honest with me,” she warned. To your shock, there was a new edge to her voice. This wasn’t just a scolding. She seemed almost…anxious. “There is a world of difference between a marriage that is consummated and a marriage that is not.”

Your face heated. Hearing your mother, so prim and proper, talk about consummation…

This was definitely, definitely torture.

“Please, dear. Tell me,” she implored you. “Did you please him?”

“I…” you stammered, the words sticking in your throat. Your cheeks felt as if they were on fire. “I…don’t know?”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” She asked, sharply, pouncing on your answer.

You remembered Minho’s behaviour afterwards, the way he rolled away from you. How cold he had been the morning after. He didn’t seem pleased.

But he didn’t seem particularly angry.

He just seemed…like Minho. Cold, aloof, terse.

“He’s hard to read,” you replied, eventually. It felt like an understatement.

Your mother stared at you, long and hard. And then, with a deep sigh, she set her cup down. “I’m going to be very blunt with you.”

Oh no.

Please don’t.

“Did he…” your mother paused, glancing around the solarium, eyeing the attendants that hovered just within earshot. She lowered her voice to a whisper, leaning towards you. “Did he finish inside of you?”

You choked, jerking away to hide your face in your hands. This couldn’t be real. This could not be happening.

And yet, your mother stayed there, eyes on you, silently demanding a response.

You knew she wouldn’t back down until you did. She wasn’t the type.

You forcibly removed your hands from your face, turning away to avoid looking away. And then, as you took hold of your cup and brought it towards you, you managed to force out your answer. “…Yes.”

You were expecting a new torrent of questions, each demanding more graphic detail than the last.

You were not expecting your mother to lean back, nodding. Were it not for all her grace and carefully educated poise, you could imagine her slumping with relief. “That’s all I needed to know.”

You paused, staring at her in shock.

She said it so…dismissively. As if that was the be-all, and end-all of her concerns.

You couldn’t believe it.

Considerably more relaxed, she reached for her tea again. “After everything I heard about the physician, I worried…well, I–”

“The physician?” You asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Your mother glanced up in surprise. “You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“His Highness had your women’s physician dismissed. Quite shockingly, from what I heard. Naturally, everyone assumed the worst.”

The worst.

Your stomach dropped like a stone, as you realised the reality of your situation. What everyone saw when they looked at you, and your marriage with Minho.

They assumed you were a failure in bed. A laughable failure. Enough to anger Minho into booting your physician from court and demand you keep separate chambers.

But you hadn’t done anything. In fact, at the time, he seemed to…

And you…

“…He didn’t say anything,” you say, abruptly, more to yourself than to your mother. “He…seemed to like it.”

Didn’t he?

Did you do something wrong?

Your mother frowned, clearly pondering something, and leaned forward. “And you? How do you feel now?”

You swallowed, softening a little at the question, thoughts too scattered to piece together. “I…I suppose I’m alright. Confused, I think. Irritated. If he has a problem, I don’t see why he can’t just speak to me about it.”

“Yes, yes,” your mother said, and once again, her tone is sharp. Dismissive. Impatient. “But how do you…feel, dear?”

You blinked, unsure what exactly she was asking.

And then her eyes dipped. Pointedly.

Towards your stomach.

…Oh.

Unconsciously, your hand moved to your stomach, pressing against it.

That was something you hadn’t even spared a thought about. You had been too concerned with Minho, about the disrespect he’d shown you, about all the ways to cure your boredom.

But you supposed it certainly was possible that…

“I don’t…feel any different,” you admitted, slowly, haltingly. “I haven’t noticed anything. Any, uh…any intuition about anything.”

“Hmm,” your mother replied, looking slightly disappointed at your response. “I suppose you’ll have an examination soon to check, won’t you?”

You’d almost forgotten. One of the glamorous perks of being a royal bride – a monthly invasive exam to determine whether you had fulfilled your duty.

“Yes. In about a fortnight or so.”

“Good,” she says, but the look in her eyes is anything but pleased. “I hope I don’t have to tell you how vital it is to get his heir in you. Soon.”

You winced at her words, uncomfortable. “Mother–”

“A wife without children is an inconvenience,” she warned you, solemn. “So easily side-stepped. Don’t allow yourself to get too comfortable in your position just yet.”

“I’m not,” you snapped, your patience finally worn away. You couldn’t deal with this right now. You couldn’t deal with your mother scolding you about Minho, as if his behaviour was somehow your problem to solve. You couldn’t deal with your own mother telling you how useless you were without a child in you.

It was getting too much. Everything was getting too much.

Under the table, your hands balled themselves into fists, clenching so tightly that you could feel your fingernails digging into the flesh of your palm.

You wanted to scream. Cry. You imagined, for a moment, overturning this table. You imagined watching those delicate little cups shattering against the floor, the sounds they would make.

You itched to do something – anything. Anything that left a mark.

You felt that familiar stinging at the back of your eyes, and you were unsure if it came from sorrow or anger. Either way, you fought it with all your might, dropping your gaze to the table in front of you, to your tea, to those perfectly thin cuts of salmon made for you.

You swallowed back your frustrations, and instead, you muttered. “I’m trying. I swear that I’m trying.”

There was a long, long pause – and then, you felt your mother’s hands on your shoulder, squeezing it gently, and drifting upwards to carefully stroke your head.

“I know,” she said, gently. “And your father and I are doing all we can to help you.”

Your mother’s kindness only made it harder to hold back the tears. You tried to take a deep breath, still fixating on that cup of tea until you regained your composure. “…How is Father?”

“He’s well. Doing all he can to spread our joy for you to the common folk. Did you know he sent an extra bushel of wheat to every household in our demesne on your wedding day?” Your mother asked, and you could hear the amusement in her voice. “Took them right from our own granary.”

That sounded about right. Your father liked his grand gestures, always generous and always looking for an opportunity to further his own ambitions. “The people love him.”

“And they love you. The common folk always love a new princess,” your mother reminded you. “And they love a richprincess even more. A fatter royal treasury means lower taxes, after all.”

You quietened, taking in that idea, letting yourself reflect on it.

“The public likes me?”

“More than you think. Your father has done an astonishing amount for you, dear.”

You didn’t respond, still too distracted with this new information.

You had assumed you were barely an afterthought in the eyes of the public – or, at worst, mocked for your failings.

But support from the people?

That was something new.

That was power.

At last, you had leverage.

Your mother withdrew her hand, smiling lightly, and reached for her cup again. “Actually, darling, I’ve been meaning to ask. I’m sure you heard the dreadful news about Lord Park?”

You frowned at her. Lord Park?

Very dimly, you recalled the elderly face of a nobleman. One of the royal advisors, who passed away peacefully in his sleep some weeks ago. You couldn’t recall any particular friendship he had with your family, but you supposed your father could have had business with him. “Yes, I did. At least he lived a long life.”

“Yes. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about who will take his seat on the royal council?”

Council seat? What? This was politics, this was dull state bureaucracy, a topic so very far removed from your mother’s usual conversational topics.

“No. Minho doesn’t exactly talk to me about politics.”

Or anything else, for that matter.

“Hmm,” your mother sighed, taking a sip of her tea. “Perhaps you should fix that. A seat on the council is a powerful position to have. You would do very well to have an ally take it, a man you know will have your interests at heart. Think about it, dear.”

After your talk with your mother, your first thought was to track Minho down again and demand answers, to start an argument with him, to pick at him until you could drag the truth out for yourself.

You managed to restrain that urge, and returned to your chambers, telling yourself it was better to examine these things rationally and calmly plan your next move.

You didn’t expect Minho to find you that evening, ruining those plans entirely.

You were sat at your desk, dinner long since cleared away, dressed in your nightclothes and determined to finish re-reading this chapter on dignitary etiquette before bed – when the door to your chambers swung open.

You jolted, rising to your feet in alarm, only to relax slightly when you saw who it was.

“Are you going to make this a habit?” You asked. “Forcing your way into my chambers unannounced?”

“It’s hardly ‘forcing’ when your guards open the door for me,” Minho drawled, unapologetic. “Would you rather I shouted through the doorway to let you know my intentions?”

“I’d rather you knocked,” you stated, folding your arms over your chest. “That might be a strange notion to you, but I hope you’re aware of the general idea of privacy, at least.”

Minho smiled, but there was no warmth to it. Quite the contrary, there was a certain sharpness to his words when he spoke. “I’m afraid I’m rather unfamiliar with the concept of privacy. Could you explain…”

He trailed off, his attention caught by something. You followed his gaze, and froze when you realised what exactly he was looking at.

The grey furs on your bed, carefully folded and resting against your pillows.

His furs.

You wanted to immediately blurt out a defence, that the furs were just to keep you warm until the chill of early spring faded, that they were misplaced, that you had never seen these furs before in your life, you swear–

Instead, you cleared your throat. “Yes?”

Minho’s eyes darted from the furs, to your defiant stare. He paused for a moment, inhaling, his lips parting as if he were about to say something.

And then, his features smoothed out to that familiar look of boredom. “Nothing.”

The two of you stared each other down, silent, and you debated challenging him again, reluctant to take such an obvious lie as an answer.

And then, the cold of the evening sent a chill through you, and you were hit with a new sense of self-awareness.

Minho, you noted, was fully-dressed in his usual regal attire. Layers of expensive, thick fabrics, obnoxiously form-fitting breeches that you refused to grant more than a passing glance, sturdy black boots.

You, on the other hand, were dressed for bed. Your nightgown – a thin, cotton garment – kept you cool while you slept, but did barely enough to protect your modesty. You weren’t sure why you were embarrassed by this. Minho was one of the few, the very few, to ever see you in less.

But you felt exposed, exposed in a way that Minho, in all his finery, was not.

You wondered then, in that moment, what exactly he was doing in your chambers this late at night.

You swallowed. “…Why are you here, Minho?”

He tilted his head, just slightly. You couldn’t tell from his expression whether he had caught onto your thoughts – and you hated every second of silence that followed your question, as if he were making you wait.

“I found a tutor for you,” he finally said, to your surprise. “Kim Seungmin. He’s happy to meet with you tomorrow afternoon in the library, if that time is agreeable for you.”

“That…that was fast,” you noted, still trying to process this information.

“You gave me the impression that you were in a hurry,” Minho remarked, raising an eyebrow. “I can always tell him to reschedule, push it back a few more weeks if that’s more amenable–”

“No,” you snapped. “Tomorrow is fine. Perfect, honestly.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Another silence fell between the two of you. Now that Minho had said all he came here for, what else was there to do now? Tell him to leave? Invite him to sit down?

There were a hundred questions still burning in your mind when you looked at Minho, and you longed to just hold him down and force the answers out of him. You were tired, it was late, and you were just so sick of games.

So, when Minho began to turn towards the door, you took a step forward without thinking – catching him off-guard.

The words that slipped out of your mouth were not ones you expected. “How long will I be here?”

Minho paused, turning to look at you in confusion. “What?”

“In these chambers,” you elaborated, staying firm. “How long am I supposed to stay here?”

“Are you really that unhappy? I thought these chambers seem to suit you quite nicely. But I suppose, if you insist, we can prepare you something overlooking the lake–”

“That’s not what I mean. Don’t play dumb with me, Minho,” you warned, serious.

Minho paused, taking in the anger in your expression, the clench of your jaw. Maybe he was assessing whether you were likely to drop this subject any time soon – and quickly came to the realisation that you were absolutely not.

You pressed on, taking another step forward. “People are starting to talk.”

“Let them,” he said, entirely unbothered. “It doesn’t concern us.”

You couldn’t help it.

“Yes, it does!” You exploded, and you didn’t miss the way Minho’s eyes widened at your sudden raised voice. He didn’t quite take a step back, but it seemed a close call. “Maybe it doesn’t concern you, but you’re not the one they’re talking about. It’s me. They blame me, when you’re the one who…”

You tried to say it. You tried to voice the thoughts in your head, the reality of the situation. He’s the one who constantly rejects you, the one who just shoos you away like some tiresome nuisance, who bedded you once like some despised obligation and now seems desperate to rid himself of you, but you…

“What did I do?” You demanded, and you hated the wavering in your voice, but you despised the way Minho’s expression faltered. You didn’t want pity. You wanted an answer. “You know I didn’t…I wasn’t experienced, so if I did something wrong, you need to tell me.”

Minho didn’t speak, not for a long while. He just stared, and for once, the mask had well and truly slipped away – because you could see something in his eyes, clear as day, something conflicted.

And when he finally replied, you were struck by the realisation that finally – finally – he was being honest with you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Minho told you, firmly. “It’s me. I…”

He hesitated. You watched as he swallowed.

“It’s as you said,” he said, softly. “I’m lacking. Not you.”

His words, uttered so quietly that you could almost believe they were never said at all, hung in the air between the two of you.

You tried to find a response, any response, to this moment of sincerity – but it had disarmed you, entirely.

You were still scrambling for words when Minho cleared his throat, and turned away. “Sleep well. Enjoy tomorrow.”

It was with a new sense of purpose that you marched through the doors to the library.

You had done nothing wrong.

Those words should have reassured you. You had done everything correctly, none of this was your fault, you could rest easy and place all the blame on Minho.

But…

That also meant you had no idea how to solve the situation. If you had done something wrong, you supposed you could have swallowed your pride and apologised through gritted teeth.

But Minho was to blame. Not only that, but he knew this – and most importantly, was doing nothing to fix it.

And that was just…infuriating. How did Minho manage to keep doing this? Angering you more and more each day?

At this point, it was practically a talent. A matter of expertise.

So, if you couldn’t make any progress on your marriage, you could – at the very least – throw yourself into learning.

And that was exactly what you intended to do.

The royal library was an impressive size, and it took you a few moments to locate your new tutor. You eventually found him seated by the window, gazing out at the courtyard below, tapping his fingers against the dark wood of the table in front of him.

He was young – far younger than any of the tutors you’d had as a child. An apprentice, probably, which was a thought that only stung deeper the more you thought about it.

Of course. You couldn’t waste the time of serious, respected scholars. That would be absurd.

You cleared your throat.

“Kim Seungmin?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

Seungmin’s head snapped in your direction so sharply, you almost worried he would do himself injury. He rose to his feet, bowing his head respectfully. Now standing, you could better take him in. He was tall, gangly in places, a far cry from the athletic nobility you’d grown up around, well-fed and trained in a variety of physical pursuits. This was clearly a man of learning, not hunting. “Your Highness. It’s an honour.”

You still needed to get used to all these formalities.

You approached the table, while your two guards took position by the shelves – keeping a distant, but watchful eye on you.

“I’d like to get started as soon as possible,” you told him, solemn. “I’m sure we have plenty of ground to cover in these tutoring sessions.”

“Of course,” Seungmin said, and you found yourself caught slightly off-guard by his simple response. You weren’t sure why you were expecting more resistance. A habit, you supposed. “What areas are you interested in, Your Highness?”

Here was the real test.

You eyed Seungmin very carefully, and lifted your chin. “We’ll start with geography.”

He nodded. “Very well, I–”

“I know this country’s noble families, but I have no idea what region they govern, their exports, their strength of position,” you listed them off with your fingers. “I also want to know all transport routes, all mines, mountains, rivers, forests. And then–”

“And then?” Seungmin repeated, sounding slightly dazed.

“History. The most recent century is the most pressing, but if you can think of any significant events before then that will be relevant, please add those. I know marriages by family, but not dates. And then there’s wars, treaties, things of that nature. Trade, diplomatic expeditions, coups. I want to know our allies abroad and our enemies, I want to know our common interests and the lines that divide us.”

“Ah.”

There was a slight trepidation in his eyes. Undoubtedly, you were asking far more of him than anyone probably expected. This was the kind of education that was reserved for kings and princes, learned gradually over a period of years, and taught by the utmost experts of their fields.

With this knowledge, you softened just a little. “I understand you have your work cut out for you. But please understand that…so do I. If there’s anything else you can think of that might aid me, anything at all, please let me know.”

Seungmin was silent, and you worried for a moment that you were demanding too much. That you had overstepped your boundaries, even as princess. That Seungmin would reject your requests, report back to Minho, and the two of them would laugh long and hard at your expense.

But then, suddenly, Seungmin’s eyes lit up.

“The best place to start would be Baek’s works on our political history, he’s great at explaining the broad strokes of what you’re looking for. For martial history, there’s a few new works on the Lakelands – we’ll need the most up-to-date accounts.”

You knew of the Lakelands. They were your neighbours to the south, once the contentious rivals to this country’s trade efforts, now sworn allies. Felix’s mother was a Lakelander, brought over to seal the alliance with marriage.

Was that why he went to the coast? The capital was so far north, inland, surrounded by hills and dense woods. Did he long for a warmer climate, by the water, to remind him of his maternal family?

You swallowed, pushing these thoughts to the back of your mind. Now was not the time to dwell on Felix.

Seungmin suddenly clapped his hands, struck by some kind of epiphany. “If I may, Your Highness, I’d suggest using the records of the royal council meetings as a reference guide. Reading those, alongside history texts, would be incrediblyuseful.”

Your eyes widened, as you considered his suggestion. “How detailed are these records?”

“Very. They’re tedious reading on their own,” Seungmin admitted, pulling a face, “but if you wanted to keep track of who was in and out of royal favour, or what big and small decisions were proposed and decided upon by who, they’re indispensable.”

“Perfect. We’ll use those too,” you said, and you couldn’t hide the smile threatening the corners of your mouth. Finally, something to engage you. Something to excel at.

“I can draw up a list of works to start on straight away!” Seungmin exclaimed, enthusiasm overcoming him for just a moment. You watched in amusement as realisation set in, as he returned to a sense of propriety, and quickly retreated back into his polite, soft-spoken demeanour.

He cleared his throat, looking just a little sheepish.

“If it pleases Your Highness, of course–”

“It does,” you declared, grinning. “Let’s begin.”

taglist:

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@aliceu @laikaya @the7thcrow @woofwoofbangbang @lynx-paw @im-questioning-my-existence @mainexiii @springdeity @koroleva--rezni @lee-micky @pen-paper-ink @bettyschwallocksyee @levisackerwoman @dandyboyseungminnie​ @ateliersaab​ @kawaiiayasan​ @skzleeknow12​ @sweetdreamerranchthing​ @tae-kook-lover​ @doie-sun @itshoonie​ @dokyeomsy​ @linours​ @leagreenly​ @ajxreads​ @henloiamaweirdobye​ @malewife-supremacy​ @maedesculpaeusoubi​ @cosmiixstars​ @foxylilbitch @theautumnisnoble​ @linoscence​ @jaembby​

[nixytea]

to die by your hand — l.hs (teaser)

[ 𓍝 ] — “do me a favour and off me before anyone else does.”

➻ 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 » romance, rivals to lovers, denial, mutual pining, major angst

➻ 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 » enhypen’s heeseung and sunoo, ive’s wonyoung and yujin, twice’s tzuyu, aespa’s ningning and karina, kep1er’s chaehyun and bahiyyih, jo yuri

➻ 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 » a lot of blood and gore, murder, assassination, beheading, death, fighting, heavy angst, major character death, historical inaccuracy

➻ 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 (open!) @hsg-ashsk

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 » as the most prolific assassin in all of riverfield, you are both revered and feared by the people of the land for daring to challenge the imperial family. however, your identity as a masked vigilante is put to the test when you hear of the ruthless crown prince’s selection for his new wife. making use of this opportunity to infiltrate the palace, you enter the crown prince’s harem. what you weren’t expecting, however, was to meet your rival, whom you have mixed feelings about, within the cage you so willingly walked into.

sometimes, you liked to imagine blood as crimson rose petals, delicate and elegant. after all, rose petals looked better on hands than blood did. and if blood were really from a blossoming flower, your hands would certainly be filled with nothing but bundles and bundles of fresh roses.

these were the thoughts that passed through your mind as the stench of iron and spilled organs began to permeate the air, thick hot liquid streaming down your arms and face. you didn’t have to look down to know it was blood that had stained your leather robes, and you were sure that not a drop of your blood that had been spilled tonight. a man crouched before you, pathetic whimpers ever so fitting for the scene you’d painted minutes prior.

holding the tip of your blade at his throat, you spoke, knowing the mask across your eyes prevented him from ever recognising your face. but for good measure, you pitched your voice down. not the best attempt, but it wouldn’t really matter anyway. “talk. where are the children you abducted?”

when your question was met with silence, you dug the blade an inch deeper, the man’s desperate whines growing louder. “i-i can make a deal with you. if i-”

your bewildered scoff cut him off, hand reaching out to seize him by the collar. “are you a fool, to think you are in any position to bargain right now? might i remind you, your entire guard has fallen to me alone. you are at my mercy alone, are we clear? answer the question, before i lose my patience and slit your throat.”

your prey was always so predictable, one threat and it was all over. they valued their lives so much they were willing to cower like dimwits and betray their comrades. disgusting, but if they weren’t so cowardly your information would be harder to obtain.

such was the man before you, his previously haughty gaze reduced to nothing more than a grovelling traitor’s guttural pleas. if not for his fine, albeit blood-drenched clothing, no one would be able to see any semblance of the count. one murderous glance was all it took for the evidence you needed to spill from his throat in garbled words, each inhuman act more detailed than the last. within a minute he’d confessed to his entire trafficking business and more, although you’d already known that. you just needed to hear it from his mouth and gather solid evidence from his mansion.

“filthy pig, to gorge yourself on the suffering of children. want to know how i found out about your little side business?” you taunted him, dragging the edge of your sword across his jugular vein to purposefully elicit a despairing whimper from his throat. “i checked the records of the knights’ station in this area. hundreds of reports on your dirty deeds, all set to be burnt while piles of money rot in a secret compartment of the captain’s drawer. knights don’t earn that much, my dear count. care to enlighten me on the matters of your estate?”

he eyed the gleaming blade, the panic apparent on his face. “bribery. i-i bribed them. please, spare my life.”

“shut up, you scumbag. you don’t get to beg for your life. where’d you get the idea to start the system? i doubt you’re clever enough to have thought of this on your own, so who gave you the orders?”

“n-no one-”

“you dare lie to me? know your place.”

the cowering man before you seemed to finally accept his fate, shoulders slumping as he fell on his face. “fine, if i’m going down i’m dragging them all with me. i acted on the emperor’s orders.”

had you been anyone else far less competent, the confession would have shocked you. but you were not one to cut corners. by gathering clues over the past five years, this was the last piece of the puzzle that would connect it all together. hearing this from the mouth of the perpetrator himself was all you needed to prove that your efforts over the years had not been in vain after all.

“good job. do you have records of the children? i’m going to find them homes in the village.” you began to search his desk, humming in delight when you found the hidden compartment full of the evidence.

“but..but they’re-“

“oh yes, you ignorant swine. you won’t be needing your side hustle when you’re rotting in hell.” with a single swoop, his head rolled to your feet. and with the coldness of a killer who’d done this far too many times, you stepped over his mangled corpse and slipped into the shadows of the night once more. but as you left, a single stalk of plum blossoms fell into the puddle of blood, the ripples a mere harbinger of what was to come.

[ 𓍝 ] — a/n: rip my sleep schedule…anyway im horrible at smaus so im sticking to writing for now. i had this idea in my head for way too long, and here we are. originally this was supposed to be an wuxiapian au but i decided that was too complicated since im awful at the chinese terminology despite BEING chinese and SPEAKING/READING/WRITING the language on a daily basis. it’s sad really how bad i am with my own culture but ANYWAY. here’s a super long hee fic im deciding between making this a oneshot or a chapter fic. see the issue here we have is that if i make this a oneshot i will DEFINITELY hit like 15k+ which isn’t a bad idea actually but it will take a looong time for it to b released, so if u somehow see this n are interested u can lmk what u wld prefer? enjoy this tiny snippet! (omg how did this end up so long????)

[qqueenofhades]

Hi, I’ve been tasked with researching Richard Plantagenet for a paper and thus far found extremely negative accounts of the king, his religious bigotry being a reoccurring theme (his treatment of Jewish dignitaries attending his coronation and his reasoning to join the third crusade etc)

I stumbled across your wonderful tag for Richard at the weekend and wondered if you wouldn’t mind sharing your informed opinion of Richard and his views on religions ? Your writing seems very well balanced regarding his attributes and flaws. Thanks :)

Oof. Okay. So, a short and simple question, then?

Quick note: when I was first reading your ask and saw "Richard Plantagenet," I briefly assumed that you meant Richard Plantagenet, father of Edward IV, or perhaps Richard III, both from the Wars of the Roses in the fifteenth century, before seeing from context that you meant Richard I. While "Plantagenet" was first used as an informal appellation by Richard I's grandfather, Geoffrey of Anjou, it wasn't until several centuries later that the English royal house started to use it consistently as a surname. So it's not something that Richard I would have been really called or known by, even if historians tend to use it as a convenient labeling conceit. (See: the one thousand popular histories on "The Plantagenets" that have been published recently.)

As for Richard I, he is obviously an extremely complex and controversial figure for many reasons, though one of the first things that you have to understand is that he has been mythologized and reinvented and reinterpreted down the centuries for many reasons, especially his crusade participation and involvement in the Robin Hood legends. When you're researching about Richard, you're often reading reactions/interpretations of that material more than anything specifically rooted in the primary sources. And while I am glad that you asked me about this and want to encourage you to do so, I will gently enquire to start off: when you say "research," what kind of materials are you looking at, exactly? Are these actual published books/papers/academic material, or unsourced stuff on the internet written from various amateur/ideological perspectives and by people who have particular agendas for depicting Richard as the best (or as is more often the case, worst) ever? Because history, to nobody's surprise, is complicated. Richard did good things and he also did quite bad things, and it's difficult to reduce him to one or the other.

Briefly (ha): I'll say just that if a student handed me a paper stating that Richard was a religious bigot because a) there were anti-Jewish riots during his coronation and b) he signed up for the Third Crusade, I would seriously question it. Medieval violence against the Jews was an unfortunately endemic part of crusade preparations, and all we know about Richard's own reaction is that he fined the perpetrators harshly (repeated after a similar March 1190 incident in York) and ordered for them to be punished. Therefore, while there famously was significant anti-Semitic violence at his coronation, Richard himself was not the one who instigated it, and he ordered for the Londoners who did take part in it to be punished for breaking the king's peace.

This, however, also doesn't mean that Richard was a great person or that he was personally religiously tolerant. We don't know that and we often can't know that, whether for him or anyone else. This is the difficulty of inferring private thoughts or beliefs from formal records. This is why historians, at least good historians, mostly refrain from speculating on how a premodern private individual actually thought or felt or identified. We do know that Richard likewise also made a law in 1194 to protect the Jews residing in his domains, known as Capitula Judaeis. This followed in the realpolitik tradition of Pope Calixtus II, who had issued Sicut Judaeis in c. 1120 ordering European Christians not to harass Jews or forcibly convert them. This doesn't mean that either Calixtus or Richard thought Jews were great, but they did choose a different and more pragmatic/economic way of dealing with them than their peers. This does not prove "religious bigotry" and would need a lot more attention as an analytical concept.

As for saying that the crusades were motivated sheerly by medieval religious bigotry, I'm gonna have to say, hmm, no. Speaking as someone with a PhD in medieval history who specialised in crusade studies, there is an enormous literature around the question of why the crusades happened and why they continue to hold such troubling attraction as a pattern of behavior for the modern world. Yes, Richard went on crusade (as did the entire Western Latin world, pretty much, since 1187 and the fall of Jerusalem was the twelfth century's 9/11). But there also exists material around him that doesn't exist around any other crusade leader, including his extensive diplomatic relations with the Muslims, their personal admiration for him, his friendship with Saladin and Saladin's brother Saif al-Din, the fact that Arabic and Islamic sources can be more complimentary about Richard than the Christian records of his supposed allies, and so forth. I think Frederick II of Sicily, also famous for his friendly relationships with Muslims, is the only other crusade leader who has this kind of material. So however he did act on crusade, and for whatever reasons he went, Richard likewise chose the pragmatic path in his interactions with Muslims, or at least the Muslim military elite, than just considering them all as religious barbarians unworthy of his time or attention.

The question of how the crusades functioned as a pattern of expected behavior for the European Christian male aristocrat, sometimes entirely divorced from any notion of his private religious beliefs, is much longer and technical than we can possibly get into. (As again, I am roughly summarising a vast and contentious field of academic work for you here, so... yes.) Saying that the crusades happened only because medieval people were all religious zealots is a wild oversimplification of the type that my colleague @oldshrewsburyian and I have to deal with in our classrooms, and likewise obscures the dangerous ways in which the modern world is, in some ways, more devoted to replicating this pattern than ever. It puts it beyond the remit of analysis and into the foggy "Dark Ages hurr durr bad" stereotype that drives me batty.

Weighted against this is the fact that Richard obviously killed many Muslims while on crusade, and that this was motivated by religious and ideological convictions that were fairly standard for his day but less admirable in ours. The question of how that violence has been glorified by the alt-right people who think there was nothing wrong with it at all and he should have done more must also be taken into account. Richard's rise to prominence as a quintessentially English chivalrous hero in the nineteenth century, right when Britain was building its empire and needed to present the crusades as humane and civilizing missions abroad rather than violent and generally failed attempts at forced conversion and conquest, also problematized this. As noted, Richard was many things, but... not that, and when the crusades fell out of fashion again in the twentieth century, he was accordingly drastically villainized. Neither the superhero or the supervillain images of him are accurate, even if they're cheap and easy.

The English nationalists have a complicated relationship with Richard: he represents the ideal they aspire to, aesthetically speaking, and the kind of anti-immigrant sentiment they like to put in his mouth, which is far more than the historical Richard actually displayed toward his Muslim counterparts. (At least, again, so far as we can know anything about his private beliefs, but this is what we can infer from his actions in regard to Saladin, who he deeply respected, and Saladin's brother.) But he was also thoroughly a French knight raised and trained in the twelfth-century martial tradition, his concern for England was only as a minor part of the sprawling 'Angevin empire' he inherited from his father Henry II (which is heresy for the Brexit types who think England should always be the center of the world), and his likely inability to speak English became painted as a huge character flaw. (Notwithstanding that after the Norman Conquest in 1066, England did not have a king who spoke English natively until Henry IV in 1399, but somehow all those others don't get blamed as much as Richard.)

Anyway. I feel as if it's best to stop here. Hopefully this points you toward the complexity of the subject and gives you some guidelines in doing your own research from here. :)