#noblemens guide

[beloveds-embrace]

DukeDOM where the men assert their dominance (not toxic at all) and our girl is livingggg for it

I only had enough brain power for two of them 🙂‍↕️ dukedom masterlist

Kyle is always composed, always the picture of patience. But there are moments when his control gives way to something deeper, something that makes your breath hitch.

Like right now.

You had spent the afternoon attempting to organize the library, determined to contribute beyond your usual duties. But one misplaced ladder, one careless step, and you found yourself tumbling forward- only to be caught in the firm, unwavering grip of your beloved Kyle.

“Christ, woman,” He breathes, one strong arm locked around your waist, the other gripping the back of your head protectively. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

You blink up at him, caught between embarrassment and fascination. His dark eyes are narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. You feel small beneath his gaze, and oh, how you love it.

“I was just trying to help-“

“Help?” His voice is incredulous, but not unkind. He is still cradling you close, pressed against the firmness that makes his body. “Duchess, you have servants for this. You have me for this. Your place is not on some bloody ladder, risking your neck.”

You swallow, tilting your head up at him with a soft, breathy, “You worry for me, Kyle?”

Half-lidded eyes stare back at you, a smirk curling on his lips and his fingers pressing against your lower back. “Always, my lady. Always.”

And then, with careful reverence, he guides you away from the ladder, his hand never leaving the small of your back.

You should have known better. Truly.

You had made an offhanded remark during dinner- something playful, something teasing- about how one of the young noblemen at the gala had been charming. It was nothing, truly. Just an innocent jest.

Johnny, however, does not take it as such.

Which is why you now find yourself in the kitchen, pressed against the countertop as Johnny looms over you, arms caging you in. His usual playfulness is nowhere to be found, replaced by something darker, something more hungry.

“Charming, was he?” His voice is a low murmur against your ear. His hands settle on your waist, thumbs pressing into the fabric of your dress. “And what exactly did ye find charming, lass? His words? His pretty wee face?”

You swallow hard, heart hammering against your ribs. “Johnny, I- ”

He tuts, shaking his head. “Nae, Duchess. Ye said it. So tell me- should I be worried? Should I be concerned that my pretty wife is seekin’ affection elsewhere?”

You gasp, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Never,” you breathe, shaking your head, desperately trying to ignore the fact his thick thigh is between your legs, your skirts thin and light for this summer weather. “Never, Johnny.”

His grip tightens, pulling you flush against him. “Good,” he mutters, nose brushing against yours. “Because ye don’t get to look at anyone else. Ye’re ours, Duchess. Mine.”

Your breath hitches, heat coiling low in your belly. “Yours, Johnny.” You breathe out, relishing in the way his body shudders at your words.

Satisfied, he pulls back, a smug smirk curling his lips. “Good girl. Now, sit down and eat, before I decide to really remind ye who ye belong to.”

Oh. Oh, you love this.

[ihavethedreamiesx]

Only You | Bang Chan [NSFW]

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.5k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, or this post.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Lee Know's <-

-> Changbin's <-

-> Felix's <-

Revised (1/31/25)

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turns the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid falls over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Doesn’t matter, you aren’t really reading it anyway. Already have several times. It’s nearly impossible to get books you haven't already read several times, or things that are actually interesting to you, because your father won’t let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you have, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it’s hard to get more, and so you’re once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafts in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You look over its various shades of brown feathers and you wonder if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don’t want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoes in your head, and you roll your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seems he’s right. You’ve had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stay around too long when your conversations turn from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually make them think. Looking out to the sky, you wonder if there’s anyone out there at all that wouldn’t mind your learned state.

 ~₸x₸~

On a day you’re actually able to go out, you’re grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You’re both wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn’t be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother will help you. As you pretend to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother is at the book seller. Rummaging through what they have, he holds a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nod to the shopkeeper and move on, instead looking at some shoes. You’re closer then to your brother, enough that you can see when he holds a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continues looking, likes he’s reserving it. When you catch his side glance, you shake your head no. Already have it. He sniffs, putting it back, and keeps looking. As you move on yourself, across the way, you watch a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He’s a great deal shorter; it almost makes you giggle, but you try to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, m’lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slips inside his shop, coming back with a book you’ve never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiles wide, and you’ve fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiles, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You aren’t able to react fast enough, and he catches you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he’s holding. It’s bound in what looks like leather and you’ve never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reaches under his stall and the man goes back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiles and then goes to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he does, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whisper to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hiss out, following after the man before he gets too far out of view. You hear your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurries after you anyway, making sure he doesn’t lose sight of you.

You finally manage to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He’s standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rests his arms behind his back. Right as your brother catches up with you, the man turns around, a playful smile on his face. It’s then you realize how gorgeous he is.

"Interested in this?" He turns toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you drop your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolds, grabbing the head covering. You’ve moved so fast, you’re already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he’s probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he’s still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother drapes the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reach for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother steps in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You roll your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you roll your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you want it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shove your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbles, but falls on his butt. The man holds the book out to you and with shaky hands you take it. The text is so incredibly foreign, and when you flips the book open, it doesn’t even look handwritten. Then again, you can’t be sure since it’s such a foreign script. Little symbols sit in the top corner of each page, and the words are horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter is so small, the book cramped with lines. It’s heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man holds the translation book up and you snatch it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolds, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You move toward a bench and sit down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it isn’t a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word means. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-can I translate it fully?" You look up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiles and your heart skips a beat, but you aren’t sure if it’s because he smiles, or what the smile means.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone is slightly teasing. You deflate then and he holds back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grows stern and you look between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man is smirking, and your eyes widen. What?

"Y-You're-" You meet your brother's gaze and you both fall to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touch your hands. Immediately, you realize how brazen your actions were. You’re doomed-

"Don't worry about it." He waves you both off and you stand, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glance back at the books. You wonder if the book seller even realizes who he is. Your brother sits up, but remains on one knee, if he stood, he’d be higher than the king. That is not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asks and you swallow hard, trying to get words out. You speak your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he tells your father about what happened, you’ll never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raises a brow, and you nod sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nods to your brother, and he tells him.

"Well, if you won’t mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~ʘᗩʘ~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabit, you wonder what is happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you feel like you just escaped with your life. You hear your mother being summoned to go to your father and it’s been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You hear a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wander around it. You open the shutters and your brother's head barely can look over the sill from where he stands on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whisper back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs feel week, you aren’t sure what to make of it. Your father has desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige isn’t actually very safe. Most adversaries tend to target the women closest to the king since they’re easier targets. You know the King is unwed, and that the palace officials are just as fed up with him as your father is with you. Sure, you’d rather marry someone for love, but that’s hard to do as a noble. But if you do…that means you can have access to the King's library. Is that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you’re fine with it. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gives you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you’ll happily do it.

~◕ω◕~

After the long meeting, the King leaves, and your mother comes to inform you of the results. You’re right, he wants you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen is much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king has a lot of say, but so does his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there’s a long selection process, but instead you’re brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interview you rather extensively, then finally, his mother enters. After more questions, she leaves with the officials and you’re left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories are in your hair, on your goreum is a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sit in your ears. You twist the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you’re waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reenters along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You’ve been approved.

~◕‿◕✿~

A grand dowry is sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings are sent in as well. You’re moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you’re beyond grateful that your chest of books makes it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you’re puts through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it takes for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King has spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he can spare. He doesn’t want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you’re sure your feelings are either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he tells you his name is Chan, of course it’s part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He prefers you call him that though, even if you only can in private. When he can, he’ll bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he says there isn’t time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seems just as passionate about knowledge as you are, and that makes you fall harder. And it appears to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he leaves before the time is improper, he presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossoms red you’re sure, and he chuckles gently to himself as he leaves.

~◉_◉~

The wedding itself is…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You feel like you’re being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing is being before so many people. Your tutor is proud you’ve learned all of your etiquette so well and you’re ninety percent sure you do everything just right. By the time night falls, you’re beyond exhausted. You aren’t sure if you’re more excited about your marriage, which feels more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It’s nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits doesn’t turn him away like all of your other previous suitors.

Finally, though, everything is more or less complete. You’re wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You pick at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair is still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up makes your head feel heavy. It’s strange to have your hair up like that, but you’re going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it feels nice to have that weight, signifying you’re married, you honestly don’t want to take it out as much as you do want to. So, it stays. You’ve bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presume he too is washing up, and the longer he takes, the more nervous you get. Finally, the side door that leads further into the palace where the bath hall is opens. Your heart thuds against your rib cage as you see the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer has his headdress on, only the manggeon he wears under his crown is there. You wonder how long his hair is when down.

"My Queen." He smiles and you bite your lip, looking around almost like you’re checking to see if anyone’s around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He steps closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that have been drilled into you make you want to look away, but if he’s okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch is there, he follows him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitches, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you step just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He steps once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses move to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cups your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes meet his and you can’t keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirks, and you gasp as he kisses you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swims, trying desperately to match his pace. You haven't been kissed before, not like this. Chan himself has given you a few small pecks, but this is different. He’s claiming you.

His strong hands grip your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back goes even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huff, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdraws, you heave in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima falls to the floor, leaving you bare. You shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distract you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undoes the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pools at his feet, your eyes rapidly dance over him. You’re convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he’s gorgeous.

"Oh." You sigh and he huffs a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushes over him through the cloth, and you freeze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands run over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I’m getting there." Chan whispers in your ear, then he runs his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimper, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then move to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you’re pulled even closer, you feel his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulls away and you pout in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spins as he yanks you to him, lightly shoving you onto the raised bed. You huff, then squeak when he grabs your ankles, yanking you to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You try to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he’s too strong, his hands grip your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hums and your entire body jerks, back arching as you feel his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It’s hard to get words out since you can barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You hear him hum as he tastes you, and you flinch when his nose brushes your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shudder, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don’t want to hurt you." He finishes his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation makes you clench, and he rubs your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You try to do as he asks, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue leaves you, flicking your button again. Heat pools in your belly, rising fast and you logically know what’s coming, but have never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tosses back, and he groans at the crass word leaving you. Chan kisses your clit and that sends you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely register him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riles you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helps your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dull, then stop, and you finally recognize his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it doesn’t hurt, but it feels weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiles wide, his normal warm grin is hot with lust. You mewl when he starts to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seems to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight still." His thumb barely brushes your clit and your pussy clenches, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continues with the single digit and at some point, he decides to continue, and you let out a shuddering breath when he adds a second. That…doesn’t hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch is somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wonder how much his dick will make you sting.

"Oh, oh my-“ You try to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggle and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan adds a third finger, and you lift your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he can kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you notice the tent in his white pants, and you swallow hard. You don’t have any metric to go by since you have never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won’t fit." You whimper, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffs a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will~" His fingers crook up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shiver at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whine when he removes his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it is overwhelming, it does feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You prop on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment falls. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won’t fit." You gasp out and he has a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scoops you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head can rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding does nothing to quell the fire Chan has set on your skin, especially not when he prop himself over you.

"I love you." He leans down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggle at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cup his face, and he kisses you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitches one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hand back to your slick cunt. His fingers run through your arousal, then he pumps his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulls back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breaches your core, the heated burn sears through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arches, and your mouth hangs open in a quiet scream. You can’t tell whether it hurts or is such an intense pleasure your body malfunctions. His cock presses deeper, and you can feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love you’re just perfect~" He groans, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what feels like an eternity, he bottoms out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasp, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushes some sweat-damp strands of hair from your brow, and you shudder through some breaths.

"I-I don't know-" You’ve never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seems to be stopping and starting again over and over. He’s being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifts his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting fades, pleasure rising, and you can’t get words out again. He must notice the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinds into you slightly and, stronger than before, you cum.

"Woah." Chan forces himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shines on your skin as well as his. Your vision dots with stars and your head swims, you’re finally able to gasp for air, panting as you return to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He strokes your cheek with his thumb, and you hold his hand to your face with your own. You nod, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your whimper heightens into a moan as he pulls back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t. Sure, it feels like he’s carving his cock through you, but it’s more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulls back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He picks up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock is more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curl, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulls out about halfway, then buries inside you hard. He sits up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skate all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he gets to your face he groans. Your eyes are hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You’ve never felt anything even close to the pleasure he’s wreaking on you. You can’t think, and you seem to be losing strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunts and you don’t have enough available thought process to react. He moves his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulls his fat cock out nearly all the way, and starts to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasms. Chan just thunders through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes roll back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffs a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you can focus on is the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb will feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasp, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucks as deep as he can, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly is on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases drips out from where your bodies meet. As Chan pants, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiles.

"You're my wife now, only you."

daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. mun - Joseon Era Korean currency chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. sokbaji - pants-like undergarment, mostly worn by women under their chima

Master-List

Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @rhonnie23, @cassandramrn, @qwonyoung23, @minghaosimp, @stresskidz

[sadcupcake]

Mikaelson's Gilbert

Elena and Jeremy Gilbert have been the center of attention in Mystic Falls for as long as anyone can remember, so much so most people don't even realise they have a sister, Another Gilbert. The Mikaelsons how ever when they meet her, they can never forget her.

Part 1

My sister was always the center of attention, for as long as I can remember it’s always been Elena this, Elena that. I’ve lived my life always in the room never really being seen. I never thought that would be a good thing until today. I resented the fact that no one saw me, Always too focused on Elena. Even when she wasn’t in the room with me I still wouldn’t be seen, everyone was always too concerned with where she was and what she was doing. Now that vampires and werewolves and witches have entered our lives it has become a danger to my life, but it has given me access to a lot of information that I shouldn’t have, like the fact that Damon and Elena are conspiring to kill Klaus behind everyone’s back.

Elena and Elijah had come to a peace agreement which for the most part had worked, but now she’s breaking that agreement with the help of Damon to work with Esther to kill her children and ultimately Klaus. If you had told me when I first found out about the Originals that I would be considering saving their lives I’d have told you that you were crazy, but here I am about to knock on the Mikaelson’s front door and tell them that their mother wants them dead.

I know that they won’t want to hear it but I have to at least try right? I mean there’s no real reason why I should be doing this, they’ve done nothing but torture and try to kill my sister and her friends. But why should I care about that? What has Elena ever done for me but forget I exist? I mean when we were kids she wanted something of mine and I said no so she pushed me and I ended up at the bottom of the stairs with a broken arm and she ended up with whatever toy it was she wanted and forgot I was even there. No matter how much I screamed for help she never came. It wasn’t until our parents got home that I was taken to the hospital and Elena swore up and down that she didn’t know I ‘fell’ and she couldn’t hear my screams for help.

Before I can second guess myself anymore the front door opens and Elijah is standing in front of me. He’s the most reasonable original from what I’ve seen and always sticks to his word, even if it means finding loopholes in those agreements to get what he truly wants in the end. When I look up at him I feel a sense of calm wash over me, like in this moment this is the exact place I need to be. The sense of calm confirms my choice for me.

“And who exactly are you?” Elijah says smoothly almost like he didn't even speak the word.

“ Who I am isn’t important. It never is. I need to talk to you about your peace deal you have with Elena” All of a sudden I’m full of nerves. I didn’t think this through. He could kill me for what I’m about to say, but for whatever reason when I look into his eyes I don’t care, all I care about is saving his life.

“Please follow me inside” He says moving to the side and extending his hand almost effortlessly in one swift motion.

As I follow him into the Mikaelson mansion my heart is pounding in my chest, I’m sure all the vampires who reside here can hear it from wherever they are. It should make me terrified but it doesn’t. This mansion already feels like home to me and I can’t help but feel guilty for feeling this way. This isn’t my home and I definitely shouldn’t be feeling so comfortable here.

We enter a room off to the side and Elijah guides me to a chair, his hand on my back gently. Somehow to me he does seem the gentlest of the Mikaelsons, but I can tell that underneath that guise of the gentle noblemen there is a beast waiting to be unleashed. Once we are both sat I start

“I’m here to save your lives, your mother wants you dead and Elena is helping her” Once it’s off my chest I brace myself for the inevitable, my death. But it never comes. 

The look on Elijah’s face is hard to read at first. He looks calm, almost too calm. But underneath it all I can see the hurt. They all thought she was really back to be a big happy family again, all they wanted was their mother’s love after a thousand years.

“How do you know of this, and why would you warn us? What motive could you possibly have?” Elijah says, still trying to determine who I am, if I’m a threat to his family he’s protected for so long no matter how many times they’ve hurt him.

“I know this because I heard my sister plan it. Esther wants to meet with her at the ball to get rid of Klaus once and for all, but unlike my sister I’m not stupid the only way to get rid of Klaus is for the rest of you to go as well. There is no more white oak that any of us know of and why would Esther waste the last white oak on just one of you when she could link all of you together and be rid of the curse she unleashed on the planet a thousand years ago” I say quickly trying to justify myself to avoid a slow death. “Oh and Damon is in on it” I add in quickly trying to direct his anger onto someone other than the very fragile human sitting in front of him.

“Your sister? I can only assume you mean Elena from the information you’ve given me. We didn't know of the existence of another Gilbert” He says not even addressing the death threat. He’s acting as if it doesn’t even matter 

“ Yeah, that's me, the other Gilbert, You probably didn’t know about me because no one ever sees me. That’s how I knew about what Elena and Damon were up to, they never see me in the room before they talk about their plans” I say wondering why I’m not dead yet.

“Well miss Gilbert, thank you for your warning” Elijah says while standing up and buttoning his suit. If it weren’t for the fact that I know he’s been alive for a thousand years I’d wonder what career he had to afford a suit like that.

Taking that as my que to leave I take the chance while I still have it. While walking back to the front door the way we came I can feel someone watching me, multiple someones. Despite the eyes on me I don’t feel threatened, I feel protected almost. It’s strange really, going unnoticed all my life I tend to feel anxious and uncomfortable when I am noticed, but here in the Mikaelson mansion with the eyes of who I can only assume are the rest of the Originals I feel protected and calm, which makes absolutely no sense.

[princessleprechaunnn]

medieval!au, huntress!nat x princess!reader

Ok so backstory time, yippee!!!

Your parents are the rulers of your kingdom, which makes you a princess

You feel locked away, and are desperate for an escape

One day, you hear of the newly trained hunter who will visit the castle 

What shocks you is that the hunter is your kingdom’s robin hood sort of figure (yk like, she would steal from the rich and give to her fellow serfs)

Eventually she was met by the guards of your kingdom, and she reluctantly gave up her life of thievery when met with a choice; go to the dungeon, or join the noblemen (and women cause hell yeah) on their hunting trips, serving as a guide since she was known throughout the kingdom to have incredible aim with a bow

She quickly rose in the hunting troop, soon becoming the leader of many hunting trips

Because she was so successful, she was honored with a meeting of the royal family, as well as a feast in her honor

Your father, the king, asked you to help her feel welcome during her stay.

You practically ran outside the palace gates to greet her, standing with your ladies-in-waiting

I will write a fic but i wanted to give an intro to what i envisioned. and TRUST i will be medievalifying all of my dialogue 😈

[yanderefarm]

yandere mad king introduction

same kinda vibe as before!! just letting you know more about him before I make part two!! i also have another request in my inbox for him. and yes he does have a boob window. and no I can't draw boobs

cw; violence, violence towards animals, nsft, yandere tendencies, manipulation, rough sex

Emil is called the mad king because he claimed the throne by killing his father and all his supporters. It wasn't out of malice but duty to his people but he doesn't mind people thinking poorly of him if it means they don't bother him.

He decided to marry your sister because of growing concern for the movements of your neighboring kingdom. He didn't actually care about her until she started to reject him so firmly.

He just likes things that are interesting. It was interesting that she was willing to let everyone die rather than be with him but its more interesting that you're willing to kill to keep them all safe.

He's bisexual, doesn't actually care if it's a man or woman he marries as long as they don't bore him. Of course the noblemen of his empire have more to say about this topic.

He'll probably kill them if they start acting homophobic towards you. His love for you is one thing but he also doesn't want anyone who's going to insult his decisions.

Once you get more comfortable with him he'll try to avoid you seeing any bloodshed or pain. Even if he had to execute his whole court he'd never let you witness it.

He's willing to be kind if you ask him cutely. He'd feel such a rush if you clung to him and begged for someone's life. That doesn't necessarily grant them mercy but it might give them a little more time.

If you're bigger than him and you act cute and pathetic its even more exciting. He loves the feeling of your larger body holding him and acting like he's your shield from anything you don't like.

If you're smaller than him it's cute too. He likes you sitting in his lap, head hidden in his chest too afraid to look.

If you're not scared, if you get a taste for the bloodshed that's interesting too. He'd love to guide your hands on his sword doing his dirty work.

If you show your stubborn side like your sister's he finds it fun. He likes to push you as far as he can. What can he do to get you to snap again? How far is too far?

Don't be stubborn until you're sure your family is safe though. Really don't want him to get his guillotine out again.

Speaking of!! Your family is/was made of 8 people. Your father is Elio and your mother is Estelle. Your eldest brother is Philip who is about 5 years older than you, then your sister Eliza who is only about 2 years older than you, then you, then after you is Isabella who is 15, your youngest brother is Anthony and he's 12, and finally the youngest child is Maria at 6.

If you're not like all into the fantasy of an entire royal family who isn't your actual real world family feel free to imagine it in an isekai way. I almost wrote it that way but decided it was a little too much. (Also if you don't mention where I got some of the names you get a cookie.)

Back to Emil. He will threaten your family up to and including the day of your wedding. He doesn't want you to back out last minute so until he slides that ring on your finger the knife is at their throats.

After your marriage is official he'll follow you around the castle sometimes. He'll watch you in the garden or stalk you through the halls. He ignores his work just to watch you read in the library.

He'll also adorn you with gifts if you want. You do have to give him the idea first. Either just asking him for something you like or slipping the hint to one of his close assistants.

It's not hard to guess he didn't have the happiest childhood so he doesn't really understand the idea of gifts or romance. He's just as likely to gift you a dead rat as he is a gold necklace if simply given the instructions to give something.

So yeah he's also not romantic. He's sweet don't get it twisted, he'd be kind and loving to you. He would adore you. But he's never been on a date and doesn't know how romance works.

You might never know how he attempted to court your sister but it might have been the reason for her stubbornness.

Still once he gets the hang of it he'll show his truest yandere tendency. Being a massive simp. Gifts, dates, touching, anything you tell him you like you'll get ten fold.

Honestly even if you didn't personally teach him what to do he'd probably just do disturbing versions of romance towards you. Dead rat gifts, poisoning your maids, chocolates full of razorblades, giving you your dead sister's head, messed up things.

He doesn't like being in pain but once he's in deep all you have to do is tell him to suffer and he would. You'd probably have to wait a few years into your marriage for that though. Butter him up first before you ask him to eat glass.

nsfw time!!

Just like romance he is a bit clueless about sex. If god (aka me) ever let him top he would cum first and then roll over and go to bed leaving you unsatisfied.

On your wedding night the maids will dress you both up in intimate garments and leave you to it. You don't have to sleep together then but if you decide to because he looks so pretty he'll let you use him however you want.

He'll be overly accommodating the first time you do it regardless of when. He needs to know what exactly you're doing before he starts to get more freaky with it.

The first time is so mind blowing for him. He didn't realize he could feel that good, he gets hearts in his eyes as he begs for more.

His favorite position is cowgirl or a mating press. He loves riding you and he's a total power bottom but his breeding kink trumps all.

His breeding kink is intense. It doesn't matter if you bring up breeding him first or not because his body knows it needs to be bred. He knows sex is for procreation and that's all he wants.

He begs for your babies, he begs to be a daddy. He doesn't like for you to waste a single drop of cum outside of his body. How could you waste it when he wants you to get him pregnant so badly?

If you jerk off alone, cum early during foreplay, or just try not to cum inside of him it doesn't matter. He'll scoop up any cum and either push it inside of him or suck it off his fingers.

He'll sneak into your room and steal your dirty underwear or dirty tissues to smell and lick clean. He knows it's a bit gross but he loves your smell and taste.

He could be ftm or cis it doesn't really matter because his behavior is the same.

He'd be down to get kinky too. Like previously stated he doesn't like pain but he would absolutely love it if you tried to hurt him during sex.

You can spit on him, choke him, slap him, scratch him, anything you want. He might pretend he'll fight back but he won't.

If you try to hurt him without proper warning he'd probably actually fight back at least a little bit. At a certain point he'd just trust you not to hurt him but it takes a while.

His absolute favorite is your dick buried balls deep inside of him and your hands tight around your neck. If you mating pressed him while you choked him he'd be putty in your hands. Tell him he can breathe when you cum and he'll cum so hard.

He doesn't hate soft vanilla sex either. Sometimes its really nice to be treated gently and adored. Run your hands over his scars and tell him he's pretty.

Call him your pretty princess and rub his stomach. Say he'd be a good daddy or mommy it doesn't matter which.

He'd probably cry if you did nothing but adore him. Overstimulate him for hours telling him how good he is and how he's so pretty and he'll sob.

Hell he'd probably start apologizing and begging for you to hate him for being such a horrible person. He's never known so much love as when he's with you.

After you're done either adoring him or breaking him he'd force you to cuddle him. Keep yourself buried inside him and hold him gently. You can play with his hair or kiss his bruises just as long as you stay with him.

[sknyuz]

guard your heart (preview) | l.c. (dino)

synopsis — in which the king sends a knight to reel in his precious daughter—the princess—who keeps disappearing into the forest at night.

pairing — knight!dino x princess!reader (ft. prince!wonwoo)

genre — fantasy, romance, royal/medieval au, knight!chan, princess!reader

warnings — violence, mild swearing, cuts and bruises, a little manhandling from dino, alcohol consumption

wc — preview ~1.1k (full fic: tbd)

a/n — oh god i am having way too much fun writing this. i am a sucker for fantasy settings like this. can you tell by the cover art i even edited, different from my usual, minimalist ones? this was actually a request from anon, which turned out to be wayyyy longer than i had planned. releasing this by the end of the week, maybe. but without further ado, enjoy ~

if you'd like to join the taglist for this au, as usual, reblog or leave a comment on this post ^^

masterlist

"hey, sir lee."

he straightens a little at the way you say his name. "princess?"

"do you know how to dance?"

he blinks once.

"i was taught basic waltz steps, and the proper formalities for court dances." his voice is careful, neutral, like he’s reporting his swordsmanship level. "enough to keep up, if needed." you hum, pretending to consider it. "basic, huh?" you tap your chin. "i guess you’ll survive the king’s ball without embarrassing yourself, then."

"i would hope so," he says, but there’s the tiniest edge of a smile hidden in his voice, the barest crinkle around his piercing eyes. you file the knowledge away. basic steps. enough to keep up. just in case, you tell yourself. not for any particular reason.

you spin lazily again, the golden light catching in your hair, and wonder if maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to dance with someone who wouldn’t trip over your toes for once.

you meet his gaze through the narrow slit of his helmet—sharp, slanted, unreadable—a flicker of something reluctant sparking in them. maybe even something softer, hidden too deep to name.

"think you can keep up, sir lee?" you tease, offering your hand, palm open and expectant. the smirk tugging at your lips is impossible to miss.

chan exhales slowly, metal plates shifting with the motion. "i wouldn't be the best dance partner," he says, voice even but clearly reluctant. "not compared to the noblemen you'll be dancing with at the banquet. and besides—" he taps his gauntleted fingers against his chestplate lightly, the clink of armor echoing in the wide hall, "—my armor isn't quite fit for this sort of thing, princess."

you only grin wider, stepping closer. your hand reaches up to flick the front of his helmet, the heavy faceguard, with a soft clink.

"it's an order," you announce, chin lifting in challenge.

and really, who is he to resist a royal command?

chan sighs, a quiet sound, and reluctantly takes your hand in his, his hold surprisingly light for someone weighed down by so much armor. the cold brush of metal contrasts with the careful way he cradles your fingers, almost like he's afraid of bruising you.

you wait for the usual stumble, the awkward shuffle that always comes with new dance partners. but to your surprise, it’s chan who steps first—a precise, confident glide of his foot, leading you into the first motion of the waltz without hesitation.

your head tilts slightly, caught a little off balance, not from the dance but from him. it’s not perfect, but it's not the fumbling you expected either.

because chan hasn’t just been standing there these past few days, silent as a statue while you fumbled through lessons.

he’s been watching.

and somehow, just from sight alone, he’s picked up the steps well enough to guide you—rough around the edges, sure, but steady. dependable.

you stumble once when he spins you, surprised by the unfamiliar strength behind the movement compared to madame's usual delicate corrections. he steadies you quickly, a firm hand at your waist, the clink of his armor muffled against your skirts.

"you're... not bad," you murmur, almost suspicious.

you feel, rather than see: the small smile he hides behind the heavy line of his helmet.

"i learn quickly, princess," he says, voice low and almost amused. "comes with the job."

you try to catch him off guard. it’s petty, maybe — a playful shift in your step, a sudden change in direction you don’t warn him about, just to see if the knight so confident in his armor can really keep up.

but chan—sir lee—is ready for you. he follows the change almost immediately, like he'd expected it, like he could read your thoughts before your body even moved. his grip adjusts without tightening, guiding you through the sudden pivot with a smoothness that borders on irritating.

"scheming already, princess?" he murmurs lowly, the ghost of a smirk threading through his words.

you narrow your eyes up at him, catching the slight twitch of his mouth through the small gap of his helmet.

"just keeping you on your toes, sir," you say, all honeyed sweetness.

the floor is cool and echoing underfoot, your shoes making soft scuffs against the polished stone. his armor shifts and clinks faintly with each step, but somehow, he moves like it weighs nothing. every turn, every pivot, every measured guide of your hand feels deliberate, like he’s spent years preparing for something exactly like this without ever knowing it.

for a moment, you forget about your planned stubbornness, forget about the teasing.

because you realize, startlingly, how easy it is to fall into rhythm with him, how safe his arms feel, even cloaked in cold iron and war-forged discipline.

the music isn’t playing. the instructor isn't here. the hall is vast and empty, morning sun catching the dust motes floating lazily in the air.

but somehow, the world seems to spin in time with the way he leads you.

"you're scarily good at this," you mutter, a little breathless when he spins you out and catches you again.

he only tilts his head slightly, like a curious cat sizing up something unexpected.

"observation is part of guarding, princess," he says simply. "i'd hardly be useful if i missed the steps you take."

there's a warmth that prickles at your cheeks, but you scowl lightly to cover it, flicking the edge of his helmet again just to make him huff a laugh under his breath.

"show-off," you say, half-grumbling.

he catches your wrist gently this time, steadying you as the dance slows, the space between you suddenly feeling much smaller than the grand hall would suggest.

with a final step and a sure hand at your back, chan guides you through a turn. then smoothly, almost effortlessly, lowers you into a dip.

for a half-second, your breath catches. not out of fear, but out of sheer, dizzying surprise at the fluidity of it. his hand is firm at your waist, the other holding yours steady, the whole motion feeling absurdly practiced.

your hair brushes the air as you tip backward, and when he draws you up again, it’s with that same measured strength, not a single stumble in his footing.

you blink up at him, heart a little unsteadied, though you refuse to show it as he shifts your hand gracefully to the crook of his arm and steps back.

then, chan bows.

low, precise, a perfect formal motion as if you were already center stage at the king’s grand hall.

there’s a glint in his eyes when he straightens—not quite amusement, not mockery—something lighter, something quietly proud.

you open your mouth, half a mind to laugh, half a mind to finally commend him, "not bad for a bru—"

when the doors crash open with a loud, embarrassing BANG! against the walls.

so, that’s a small sneak peek into what’s coming up for u guys <3 this is taken from the middle of the fic so it may be a little out of context, but i wanted to throw you guys into the world, yknow?

if this is something you’re looking forward to read, reblog or comment to be added to the taglist so you’re mentioned when this full fic comes out !! tysm again <3

𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ @kstrucknet @ateez-atiny380 @alien0n3arth @cuppasunu

join here!

[andy-15-07]

Can i please request a lucius verus aurelius (paul's character in gladiator) where he becomes emperor and takes reader as his wife (she could be a noble or a servant, up to you) and then they adopt a puppy 🥺

Empire’s Embrace

PAIRING: Lucius Verus Aurelius x f!reader

WORD COUNT:1717 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Paul Mescal Masterlist

A/n:I'm sorry I haven't been active in the last week, school kept me busy, now I have more free time and I will respond to all your requests.

The twilight over Rome shimmered in hues of burning gold and soft purple as Lucius Verus Aurelius,newly acclaimed Emperor,strolled through the palace gardens. The grandeur of the newly won power felt both exhilarating and fragile, yet one thought steadied his beating heart: you. In a world ruled by ambition and duty, he’d found solace in your gentle wisdom, and in that quiet bond, he knew he wanted to build an empire of love as much as rule one of lands.

Earlier that day, in the quiet solitude of the Senate Hall, Lucius had received word of your noble lineage and gentle spirit. Yet, it wasn’t just the shimmering titles that caught his attention; it was the memory of your genuine smile and the earnest conversation you two had shared after a charity banquet. To the people, you were known as a noblewoman of kind heart, but to him, you were the quiet strength that made his burden as Emperor feel lighter.

That evening in the gardens, as the fragrance of blooming roses perfumed the night air, Lucius found you seated by a stone bench, gently stroking a small woven basket that held a bundle of embroidered linens,a gift he knew you’d cherish. As you looked up, your eyes meeting his, a radiant smile spread across your face.

“Lucius,” you said softly, your tone laced with both respect and affection, “I am glad the day has ended in peace, despite all the challenges.”

He sat beside you, his dark eyes shining with an intensity that belied the calm posture. “You always know how to bring tranquility to my restless soul,” he replied, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “My heart, since the moment our paths crossed, I have sought you above all else.”

Your hand found his, your voices blending in a tender duet of shared hopes. “Then share your dreams with me, Emperor,” you whispered, “Tell me of the future you envision.”

Lucius leaned in, his voice low and earnest. “I dream of a world where justice reigns as surely as the sun rises. But more than that, I dream of a family,a home built on our love. You, my beloved, shall be my wife, and together we shall usher in an era of peace.”

Before you could answer, footsteps approached along the marble path. It was Titus, a trusted advisor, whose face bore the marks of both duty and joy. “My Emperor, the people rejoice at your accession,” he announced brightly. “The Senate praises you, and they eagerly anticipate that you will solidify your union with the noblewoman you hold dear.”

Lucius smiled at the news and turned once more to you. “They say our union will bring hope to Rome,” he said, his tone playful yet sincere, “But truly, it is our bond that will light the way forward.”

You laughed softly. “Then let our love be the beacon that guides your empire.”

Later that week, in a grand celebration held in the opulent atrium of the palace, the moment finally arrived. Amidst a throng of noblemen, senators, and friends, Lucius stood on a carved podium. The assembled audience buzzed with excitement as he began his address.

“People of Rome,” he proclaimed, his voice resonant and clear, “today I stand not only as your Emperor but as a man whose heart has been forever transformed by the love of a remarkable soul.” His eyes swept across the crowd until they rested on you. “I ask you now to share in our joy as I take my beloved wife, whose kindness and strength have enriched my life beyond measure.”

The room erupted in applause and cheers as you stepped forward, your hand clasped in his. In the midst of the celebration, dialogue flowed like music among the guests.

“Look at them,” murmured Gaius, one of the high-ranking patricians, to his companion. “Their love is the stuff of legends.”

Marcia, a close friend of yours from childhood, beamed. “I always believed you were destined for greatness. And now, with Lucius by your side, there is no limit.”

Even among the senators, gruff yet sincere words were exchanged. “May your reign be as long as your love is deep,” grunted one elder, his voice roughened by years of speeches.

Between the revelry and toasts, Lucius and you found little private moments amid the celebration. Later that evening, after the banquet had wound down and the guests retired to their private chambers, the two of you wandered to a quiet terrace overlooking the city. The air was cool, and the night sky sparkled like diamonds over Rome’s ancient sprawl.

“I still cannot believe the day has come,” you whispered, your voice tremulous with emotion. “I never thought I would stand here, hand in hand with an Emperor, knowing that our love has defied all expectations.”

Lucius pulled you close, his gaze softening. “My love,” he said gently, “the journey has been arduous, and yet every moment has led me to you. You are the center of my universe, and in you I have found a reason to lead with compassion.”

In the quiet intimacy of the terrace, your dialogue deepened as you shared hopes, fears, and dreams. “Tell me,” you asked, “what is it that you most desire for our future?”

He looked out across the city before his eyes met yours once more. “I desire a family,” he confessed. “A home full of laughter, love, and,if fate permits,a little puppy to chase around in the gardens of our palace.”

You laughed, a bright, musical sound that mingled with the soft rustle of the night breeze. “A puppy?” you echoed, feigning surprise. “I must admit, the thought of a mischievous little creature scurrying about our halls does bring a smile to my face.”

Lucius grinned, a glint of playful mischief in his eyes. “Yes, a small, lively companion to remind us that even in the weight of an empire, there is always room for joy and play.” His tone softened, laced with a tender promise. “Let it be a symbol of our newfound unity,an eternal reminder that love can create life and laughter even in the stern corridors of power.”

In the days that followed, as preparations for your union reached their zenith, discussions of the puppy became a cherished topic of conversation. One sunny morning in the palace gardens, you and Lucius walked arm in arm, discussing the finer points of a new beginning.

“How do you imagine our little one?” you asked, smiling as you considered the possibilities.

Lucius thought for a moment. “I imagine a small, spirited creature with boundless energy. Maybe a terrier or a mastiff mix,brave yet loyal, much like the people of Rome.” He chuckled softly. “I want our puppy to have the heart of a Roman warrior but the playful spirit of a child.”

At that moment, his advisor Titus joined you with news. “Emperor,” he said with a respectful bow, “there is word that in the markets beyond the Tiber, a stray has been found that fits your description.”

Lucius’s eyes lit up. “A stray, you say?” he asked, exchanging an excited look with you. “Let us go see this little warrior.”

Later that afternoon, in a bustling market where merchants peddled their wares and the hum of everyday life filled the air, the two of you, accompanied by Titus, arrived at a modest stall. There, caged behind simple woodwork, was a small, scruffy puppy with bright eyes and a determined stance. The creature perked up at the sight of you.

“Look at him,” you exclaimed, heart swelling with affection. “He is exactly as you described,a little fighter with a spark in his eyes.”

Lucius knelt down beside the stall, extending a gentle hand toward the puppy. “Hey, little one,” he murmured, his voice soft and warm. “Will you join us on our journey of love and laughter?”

The puppy wagged its tail furiously, barking in a manner that sounded almost like a joyful welcome. Titus smiled at the exchange. “It appears the fates have smiled upon you, Emperor.”

With a decisive nod, Lucius stood up, taking the leash that had been provided. “Then this little soul shall be our companion,” he declared, looking at you with a mix of affection and triumph. “Let him be a part of our new family.”

Later, back at the palace, the puppy trotted happily at your feet as you and Lucius settled into your new life together. The halls of the palace, once echoing with formality and duty, now rang with laughter, playful barks, and conversations of hope.

In one heartwarming scene as twilight deepened over Rome, you found yourselves sitting in a grand atrium, the puppy curled contentedly between you. Lucius looked at you, his eyes conveying a thousand unspoken promises.

“My love,” he said softly, “look at what we have created,a home filled with friendship, loyalty, and even this little ball of energy.” He gently stroked the puppy’s head. “It reminds me that every decree, every challenge we face, is worthwhile when it leads to moments like this.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, your voice barely a whisper. “I never imagined that my heart could be so full. Your strength, your kindness,they have shown me that even an emperor’s heart can be gentle.”

Lucius squeezed your hand, his tone warm with conviction. “Together, we are more than the sum of our parts. Our love is our true empire, a legacy that will endure far beyond our time.”

And so, amid the splendor of Rome and the legacy of ancient power, you and Lucius forged a new destiny,a future defined by love, dialogue, and the joyful presence of a tiny, scrappy puppy. In every conversation, every tender word exchanged, you found that the true measure of power was not in the might of armies or the wealth of the empire, but in the capacity of your hearts to love unconditionally.

In the quiet of many evenings to come, as the stars reigned over the Eternal City, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together,Emperor and wife, united by destiny, guided by love, and blessed by the playful spirit of a little puppy who reminded you that hope and joy are everlasting.

[myloveobbsessed]

Ｌｏｖｅ Ｓｔｏｒｙ

———••———————••———————••———

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Character: Diluc Ragnvindr x fem reader

Notes: Royal Au

———••———————••———————••———

As a noblewoman, your presence at the grand ball was expected, and you had decided to attend. The lavish ballroom was filled with noblemen and women, all engaged in lively conversation, their elegant attire glittering beneath the chandelier light. You mingled for an hour or so, making small talk and exchanging pleasantries, your practiced smile never faltering.

But eventually, the strain of walking in heels began to take its toll. Your feet ached, and you gracefully excused yourself to find a seat. Sinking into the plush chair, you let out a soft sigh of relief, watching as the orchestra’s music shifted, and couples began to pair off, moving fluidly across the dance floor.

You admired their grace from a distance, but dancing was the last thing on your mind. When several gentlemen approached, politely offering their hand, you declined each one with a gentle smile, choosing instead to enjoy the peace of sitting back and observing the festivities around you.

As you sat, enjoying the graceful movements of the dancers on the floor, you were lost in thought, observing the lively scene unfold. You didn’t notice someone approach until a deep, calm voice broke through your reverie. Startled, you turned and were met with the sight of the one of the princes—prince Diluc.

Prince Diluc stood tall, his red hair tied back neatly, and his fiery eyes softened as they met yours. “Forgive me if I startled you,” he said, his voice low and respectful. “You seemed lost in thought, and I thought I’d take the opportunity to introduce myself.”

He glanced briefly at the dancers on the floor before turning his full attention back to you. “Do you mind if I join you for a moment?” His tone was polite, but there was something in his gaze that made you feel like he wasn’t one to make such requests lightly.

You stare silently at him for a short moment not believing that the prince was talking to you before snapping out of it and giving a polite nod. “o-oh yes I don't mind your Majesty.”

hearing your confirmation he takes a seat next to you. There's silence between you two for a moment before he turns to you. “Why are you not dancing if I may ask my lady?.”

You glance at the dance floor for a moment before returning your gaze to Prince Diluc. His presence, though calm, carries a weight you can’t ignore. “I’m not much of a dancer, Your Highness,” you admit softly. “I’ve always preferred watching rather than participating. Besides…” You trail off, hesitating. “I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of so many people.”

Diluc’s eyes remain on you, warm yet piercing, as if trying to understand more than just your words. “There’s no shame in enjoying the evening in your own way,” he replies, his voice gentle. “But I assure you, dancing isn’t always about skill. It’s about sharing a moment.”

You look down, unsure how to respond, but the sincerity in his words is comforting. After a pause, he extends his hand toward you. “One dance, my lady? I promise you, it won’t be about perfection.”

His offer hangs in the air, and your heartbeat quickens slightly as you glance at his outstretched hand. You can tell this isn’t a gesture he makes often.

His offer hangs in the air, and your heartbeat quickens slightly as you glance at his outstretched hand.

After a few moments you hesitantly place your hand in his and nod and reply quietly. “Okay”

Diluc’s touch is firm yet gentle as he leads you to the center of the ballroom, the soft music surrounding you both. As his hand rests on your waist and he lifts your other hand, the world around you seems to fade, the bustling crowd now just a backdrop to the moment.

The two of you begin to move in sync with the slow rhythm of the music. Despite your initial nervousness, you quickly realize that he’s guiding you with such ease and grace that your earlier worries melt away. His steps are smooth, purposeful, and he keeps a steady, reassuring pace.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” he says softly, his voice just above a whisper. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the grand ball seems like it was just the two of you. There’s a calm warmth in his expression, and it becomes clear that he meant it when he said it wasn’t about perfection—it’s about sharing this quiet, meaningful moment together.

You lightly flush at his words not bing able to take your eyes off his captivating red ones. “Thank you…”

As you lean in closer, he takes the moment to study your face, quietly memorizing every detail. After a brief pause, he finally speaks again “If I may ask what is your name my lady?”

Your heart skips a beat as you notice how intently Prince Diluc studies your face, his fiery red eyes locked onto yours. You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you respond quietly, “My name is y/n, Your Highness.”

His gaze softens at your response, and he offers a small smile. “A beautiful name,” he says sincerely. “It suits you well.”

The dance continues, the music swelling around you both, but his focus remains entirely on you. There’s a peaceful silence that lingers between the two of you, and the rest of the ballroom seems to blur as you continue to move in sync with the music.

••—————••—————••

You two now stand on the balcony. Looking down at the town below a comfortable silence surrounds you. After a few more seconds on this Diluc speaks up. “May I ask a rather blunt question?” you look at him with a slight tilt of your head.

“What is it your majesty” Diluc stays silent for a moment before asking “do you happen to be wed?”

Your eyes widen slightly at his direct question, caught off guard by the sudden turn in conversation. You glance away briefly, staring down at the town below, the soft breeze brushing past your face. After a moment of gathering your thoughts, you turn back to face Diluc, shaking your head lightly. “No, Your Majesty, I am not wed,” you reply softly, curious as to why he would ask such a thing.

Diluc seems to relax slightly at your answer, his intense gaze softening. “I see,” he murmurs, as if deep in thought. “Forgive my forwardness. It’s just… I find you to be rather intriguing.” His voice is low, and though his words are careful, there’s a subtle vulnerability in the way he speaks. “I couldn’t help but wonder if someone had already recognized your worth.”

He turns his gaze back toward the town, letting the comfortable silence fall between you once again.

Your cheeks cover in a pink tint at his words making you a little shy. “No offense but I didn't really expect you to be so polite your Majesty”

Diluc glances at you with a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “None taken,” he replies softly. “I suppose I have a reputation for being… reserved.” He pauses, his gaze drifting back to the town below. “But I’ve learned that there’s strength in kindness, even when it’s not expected of you.”

He turns his eyes back to you, studying your expression with quiet curiosity. “And what about you, my lady? You seem far more grounded than the other nobles here. You don’t appear to be swept away by all the grandeur of this ball.” There’s a gentle warmth in his voice, as if he genuinely wants to understand you.

You smile and lightly shake your head “Oh no I find the ball lovely your Majesty I just don't find any of their other nobles very interesting. Its all talk about that same thing” you softly sigh your gaze on the town.

Diluc nods thoughtfully, a small smile playing on his lips. “I understand,” he says, his tone gentle. “The conversations do tend to be rather… predictable.”

He glances over at the bustling ballroom behind the two of you, then returns his attention to the peaceful view of the town below.

He glances over at the bustling ballroom behind the two of you, then returns his attention to the peaceful view of the town below.

“I suppose that’s why I’m out here with you instead of inside,” he adds after a pause, his voice a bit softer. “It’s rare to find someone who sees beyond the surface. I find that… refreshing.”

His gaze lingers on you, his red eyes reflecting the moonlight, and for a brief moment, it feels as if the world around you has quieted.

Diluc slowly moves closer to you his eyes traveling down to your figure. “How you don't already have someone by your side is a mystery to me Lady, y/n” his tone his low alsmot a whisper. His words catch your attention as you look up at him.

Your breath hitches slightly as you meet Diluc’s intense gaze. The closeness between you feels electric, and his words send a soft warmth spreading through your chest.

“I… suppose I’ve just been waiting for the right person,” you reply quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. His presence feels overwhelming in the best way, and you can’t help but be drawn to him.

Diluc’s eyes search yours for a moment longer, then he smiles faintly. “Perhaps… that wait won’t be much longer,” he murmurs, his hand gently brushing against yours, the touch lingering as if testing the waters.

He gently takes your hand in his bringing in up to his lips as he softly kisses the back of your hand not breaking eye contact with you. “Please let me do the honors in changing that…let me be yours”

Your heart skips a beat as his lips brush against the back of your hand, his words lingering in the air. Just as you part your lips to respond, another voice interrupts, drawing both your and Diluc’s attention toward the entrance of the balcony.

“Oh? seems like you have found what your looking for dear brother” It was Prince Kaeya. Diluc’s brother he strides up to the two of you. You stare surprised to see him before snapping out of it and going into a bow.

“g-good evening your majesty”

Kaeya lightly chuckles in response. “Theres no need for fromailites just call me Kaeya. Afterall soon I will be your brother-in-law”.

Your eyes slightly widen at his words as you stand straight again. A look of confusion on your face.

Little did you know Diluc was looking for a wife tonight.

———••———————••———————••———

[novaursa]

Dangerous Gaze (the hunt)

- Summary: You meet Brandon Stark for the first time, and the dragon falls for the wolf.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Brandon Stark

- Note: These events happen before Robert's Rebellion.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- Previous part: 1

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The Kingswood is alive with the sounds of the hunt—hooves pounding the earth, the sharp barks of hounds, and the thrill of voices cutting through the trees. You feel the air buzzing with excitement, though perhaps it has less to do with the chase and more with the man riding alongside you.

Brandon Stark.

You’ve been placed ahead of the party, as is your custom, given leave to do as you please by a father who is often indulgent when it comes to his precious daughter. The courtiers and noblemen trail behind, their eyes ever watchful, but your father, King Aerys, lingers even farther back, surrounded by his guards and some of the less adventurous lords.

Brandon, however, matches your pace effortlessly. His wolfish grin never leaves his face as he steals glances at you, clearly enjoying the break from his father's stiffer company. You’re surprised at how easily you’ve fallen into conversation with him, though it feels less like conversation and more like a game.

“Does your father always hunt like this?” Brandon’s voice is casual, but there’s an edge of amusement.

You laugh, the sound ringing through the woods. “Only when he’s feeling generous. Other times, I think he enjoys watching his prey squirm more than the kill itself.”

Brandon chuckles, his grey eyes flicking over to you as you guide your horse between the thick trunks. “That sounds about right for a king.” He glances around, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “But I have to say, I didn’t expect a royal hunt to feel so...tame.”

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Tame? You call this tame?”

Brandon leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I thought hunting with a Targaryen would be wilder. Maybe there’s more fire to come?”

There’s something about the way he says it, something that sends a shiver down your spine, as if he’s speaking of more than the hunt. And yet, you can’t help but feel the pull of it, the danger woven into his words.

You smile back at him, your heart beating just a little faster. “You’d be surprised at how wild things can get, Lord Stark.”

He grins, sharp and unrestrained, and for a moment, the space between you feels charged with something more than the chase, more than the thrill of the hunt. There’s something else here, something untamed, that neither of you seem willing to acknowledge outright.

Suddenly, a loud cry breaks through the trees—the sound of hounds catching the scent of something large. The horses shift beneath you, eager to run, and you meet Brandon’s gaze. Without a word, you urge your horse forward, and he follows, the two of you breaking from the main group.

The forest blurs around you as you race deeper into the Kingswood, the wind whipping at your hair. Brandon rides close, his focus entirely on you, as if he’s hunting more than just the quarry ahead. The thrill of it is intoxicating, and for the first time in a long while, you feel truly alive.

Ahead, you catch sight of the stag—the great prize of the hunt—darting through the trees, its massive antlers gleaming in the dappled sunlight. It’s magnificent, regal even, and for a brief moment, you wonder if this is what your father sees in his own madness—this raw, untamed beauty.

Brandon pulls up beside you, his breath quick with exertion. “Shall we bring it down?” His eyes are alight with excitement, the wolf within him showing.

You pause, your gaze lingering on the stag as it bounds away. “Not yet,” you say softly. “Let it run a little longer.”

Brandon studies you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as if he’s trying to understand something deeper, something beyond the hunt. But then, his face relaxes, and he nods, guiding his horse to match your pace once more.

“Do you ever think about what waits at the end of the chase?” he asks, his voice quiet now, almost contemplative. “The moment when the prey realizes it’s caught?”

You glance over at him, sensing the weight behind his question. “I suppose it depends on the hunter,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “And what kind of end they want.”

Brandon’s eyes darken, a flicker of something shadowing his features. “Some ends come whether we want them or not.”

You say nothing, but his words settle over you like a chill, a reminder of the world you both live in—where men like your father control fate with fire and blood, and where wolves from the North are never truly safe in the South. You feel it, too, the unspoken knowledge that lingers between you, that this—whatever is growing between you and Brandon—is as dangerous as the game you’re hunting.

But you’ve never been one to shy away from danger. Not when it calls to you as strongly as Brandon Stark does.

The two of you ride in silence for a time, letting the forest envelop you. The stag has long disappeared from view, but neither of you seem to care. There’s something more important than the hunt now, something unsaid, yet felt keenly between you.

At last, Brandon breaks the silence. “You’re different from what I expected,” he admits, his voice low and sincere. “I thought...I don’t know what I thought. But you surprise me.”

You smile at that, turning to face him fully. “And what did you expect? A simpering princess?”

Brandon’s laughter is rich, genuine, and it echoes through the trees. “Something like that,” he admits. “But no, you’re...much more than that.”

His words hang between you, heavy with meaning. And though you don’t speak it aloud, you feel it too—the pull, the undeniable connection that crackles like wildfire between you.

But fate, you know, is not always kind to wolves and dragons.

[theroyalhouseofwindenburg]

The Hollow Crown

As the weeks went on, Edward slowly began to recover, but continued to keep his true identity to himself. The Brindleton family had welcomed him with open arms. All of them sat in the common room enjoying a meal, and sharing stories. John, the man who saved Edward, looked to him and asked. "You never did tell me, my lord—what were you doing out there alone? Noblemen don’t tend to wander into death’s grip without reason."

"A fair question, Master Brindleton." Edward responded. "The truth is, I was traveling with a small company when we were set upon by a bear, The beast never came close, but it was enough to send my mount into a frenzy. and I was separated from my men in the chaos, lost my horse, and—well, you know the rest."

Jacquetta, who had been silently listening as she set the last of the food on the table, finally spoke, her voice calm and measured, a small, knowing smile played at her lips before she finally spoke, her voice smooth and unhurried.

“Well now, my lord,” she mused, tilting her head ever so slightly. “Perhaps that bear was wiser than any of us give it credit for. It sent you running, but not into the hands of your enemies or into the grave. No, it set you on a path that led you here—to a warm fire, and a full plate.”

She let the words settle for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup before continuing. “Strange, isn’t it? How the things we fear most can sometimes guide us where we are meant to be.”

Edward lowered his gaze, Jacquetta’s words, though spoken in kindness, struck something deep within him, an unshakable guilt that had been lingering since the moment he first opened his eyes in this home.

These people had given him shelter, warmth, and trust, yet he had not offered them the same in return. He had concealed who he truly was, spun half-truths to keep himself hidden. And while he knew it was necessary—knew that revealing his identity could place them in danger, and that did not sit well with him.

As the grand hall of Windenburg Castle filled with the murmurs of gathered nobles, the heavy doors swung open, revealing the newly established figures of power. Prince Alvin, the boy-king, sat upon the throne, his small frame dwarfed by its grandeur. To his left stood Princess Jane, her expression composed yet triumphant, and in front of them both, Richard, Duke of Britechester, addressed the court.

"By order of the council and the laws of this realm, I, Richard, Duke of Britechester, have been named Lord Protector to Prince Alvin. Until he comes of age, I shall govern in his stead, ensuring the stability of Windenburg. In my absence, the regency shall pass to my mother, Princess Jane, who will act with full authority in matters of state."

A murmur spread through the court—some in agreement, others in unease.

Richard stepped back as Jane gave a graceful wave to the crowd, her expression composed. Then, in a final display of unity, the three moved forward together, standing before the court as one.

Night had fallen over Windenburg Castle, casting long shadows across the silent corridors. The air was cool, and the only sound within Queen Cordelia’s chambers was the soft crackle of the fire and the faint rustle of parchment as she turned a page in her book. She had remained mostly confined to these walls since her regency had been overthrown, finding solace in solitude.

The quiet was soon interrupted by the sound of her doors opening, followed by the shuffling of footsteps. Cordelia’s eyes lifted from the pages, her grip tightening on the book as she took in the sight before her. Lady Charlotte stood just beyond the threshold, her expression riddled with unease. Behind her, flanked by two guards, stood Princess Jane.

Lady Charlotte stepped forward hesitantly, her hands clasped in front of her, eyes full of regret. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I would not intrude if I had a choice.”

Cordelia set her book down with deliberate care before rising to her feet. Her sharp gaze flickered between Charlotte and the figures standing behind her. “Choice or not, you have delivered the message all the same. Now tell me—why have you brought her here?”

Before Charlotte could speak, Princess Jane stepped forward, her arms folded, an unbothered expression etched onto her face. “Because, dear sister, I am making an executive decision for you. You would be much better suited to Willowshire Castle at this time. I am having all of the Bagleys moved there tonight. And as for this chamber—well, I shall be taking it as my own.”

Cordelia’s expression darkened, her scowl deepening as her hands curled into fists at her sides. “You have always been an ambitious woman, Jane, but even for you, this is a pathetic display of desperation.”

Jane smirked, a quiet chuckle escaping her lips as she shook her head. “You’re making this far more difficult than it needs to be. But if you insist on resisting, I’ll just have to make this harder for you.” She lifted her hand and pointed at Cordelia. “Seize her.”

Cordelia’s breath hitched as the guards moved toward her without hesitation. Her shock was evident—were they truly obeying Jane over her? She stepped back, raising a hand in protest.

"Unhand me!" she spat, her voice filled with rage as the guards grabbed her arms. "This is treason!"

She fought against their grip as they pulled her toward the door, her voice rising with fury. "You won’t get away with this, Jane!"

Lady Charlotte let out a quiet sob, her hands trembling as she watched helplessly. Jane, meanwhile, stood unmoved, a smirk still tugging at her lips as Cordelia was dragged from her own chambers and into the night.

The snow fell relentlessly as the night stretched on, blanketing the land in an icy shroud. Inside his carriage, King Henry sat in silence, the weight of failure pressing against his chest like an iron chain. The road to Windenburg had never felt so long, nor had his heart ever felt so heavy. As the darkened path finally led him into the castle’s courtyard, his weary eyes caught sight of a scene that sent a fresh wave of fury coursing through his veins.

A carriage stood in the courtyard, its doors open, with servants hurriedly loading trunks onto the back. A cluster of guards stood in the cold, their grips firm on a figure being forcefully guided toward the carriage. Even through the dim light, Henry recognized her instantly—his sister, Cordelia.

His fury erupted like a storm. He slammed his fist against the carriage door, signaling his driver to halt, before stepping out into the bitter night.

"Unhand her at once!" he roared, his voice echoing through the courtyard. "She is the mother of the king, and this is no way to handle a woman of such prominence! Have you all lost your wits?"

At the sound of his voice, Cordelia turned, her face etched with sorrow and defeat. Snowflakes clung to her hair, and her hands trembled slightly as she stepped forward.

"Brother," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jane has stripped me of my place here. She has taken my chamber, my regency—my authority. I am to be sent to Willowshire tonight. Your wife grandson have already been sent ahead. And Edward—" her voice faltered, her breath catching in her throat. "Edward is gone, Henry. No one knows where he is."

Henry’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with rage. He turned back to the guards, stepping toward them with unmistakable authority.

"Enough of this disgraceful display. I will take my sister to Willowshire myself. If I hear of any further force against her, I will see to it that the hands that wronged her never hold a sword again. Do I make myself clear?"

The guards hesitated for only a moment before loosening their grips. Cordelia wasted no time—she rushed forward, throwing herself into Henry’s arms. He held her tightly, feeling the raw anger trembling beneath her sorrow.

"That woman," Cordelia seethed, her voice dripping with fury. "She has humiliated me, cast me out like a common wretch! That smug, grasping—" she stopped herself, inhaling sharply as she steadied her breath.

Henry pulled back, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "This is temporary, Cordelia. By the Watcher’s good grace, Edward will be returned to us, and this nightmare will come to an end. You must hold fast—our time will come."

As the carriage was prepared for departure, Cordelia took one last look at the castle she had once ruled. Her gaze drifted upward, toward the second-story window, where a familiar figure stood.

Cordelia’s lips curled into a sneer, her voice low and vengeful as she whispered under her breath, "Enjoy your stolen throne while you can, sister. For when the tide turns, I will see to it that you fall harder than I ever did."

There, in the dim glow of the window, Jane stood watching, her smirk still sharp as a blade, a silent declaration of her triumph. In her eyes, Windenburg already belonged to her.

[tojifile]

Kibutsuji Muzan: Succubus Survival

Hush.. just one more..

Genre: Romance // Muzan x succubus!reader

⚠️: Heavy suggestive and sexual references, kinky reader, immoral, not fully consensual, DO NOT BIND THE CHARACTERS TO REAL LIFE MORALS THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION

A/N: I'm so frustrated rn, this is like the 3rd draft I've had because it would suddenly post and answer privately ??? It was so annoying, so now I'm editing this on a private post. I love the request so much and thank you for requesting it but I will not be writing anything until I get my new device, I hope there'd be less mishaps there.

REQ: @cursetopia

Each night, in the houses of young noblemen—loud cries echoed through the corners of their rooms. You loved seeing tears fall down their cheeks as pain turned into pleasure until they couldn't tell the difference.

"Good boy.. just one more and you'll be free." You whispered in his ear cunningly. You were on top of him, freely guiding his body as you moved yours. His yogi was messily hanging from his body while your kimono fought to stay on your shoulders.

You used your blood demon art: Pearls of Restraint, which stuck to their name. They restrained his movement and ability to speak as you moved your hips in a quick and steady pace, chasing your own high as you ignored his pleas.

After a while you finally got more than a taste of your release. He immediately passed out from exhaustion. You fixed his yogi gently and put the covers over his body.

You stood up and fixed your kimono. You stood near the headrest and hovered your hand over his head, you made a motion, as if you were tugging on air. You pulled out a pearl from his head.

The pearl held his memories, you took the pearl and added it to your necklace—he was just one of the many men you've seduced into a soul-sucking night, literally.

You left his room through the window. You hid in the night sky, running swiftly yet quietly through the roofs to avoid getting caught. You ran to your room, in the most exclusive house in all of the entertainment district.

You disguised yourself as an oiran by day to avoid suspicion and to keep living amongst the male noblemen of Japan living in Kyoto, who—in your opinion looked better than the others.

Once you reached your room you were met with a calm glare, given by Muzan. "Darling~ you're finally back, come here." He spoke with calmly with a faint smile on his face as he patted his lap, insinuating that you should sit on him which you happily obliged to.

He stroked your hair gently, propping his chin on the top of your head as he held you tightly with his unoccupied hand as you sat on his lap. "Now then, let me ask you a question darling." He spoke, you hummed in response to let him know you were listening.

"What exactly do you want to achieve with sleeping with different men each night?" He asked, you took a moment to think of an answer but then realized he could read your mind so might as well just say what comes to mind.

You held your face as you kept an innocent smile on your face, "Survival, their souls and energy, if you're asking for practicality, my lord. Although if you meant to ask about my sexual desires, I love to see their reactions, it's quite.. adorable." You spoke happily as you looked up at him. It seemed like even the thought of their reactions turned you on.

Muzan found your answer amusing, he chuckled and continued to stroke your hair gently. "Adorable.." he whispered as he softly kissed the top of your head.

"Won't you be a good girl and show your lord this 'energy' you speak so highly of?" He spoke suggestively, he put you down in between his legs, "Go on my dear, I'm sure you have enough energy now." He held your cheek as he spoke, leaning down to you, offering you a soft kiss.

Spontaneous post: 07/09/23 23:34PM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time

[whencyclopedia]

Draco's Law Code

Draco was an aristocrat who in 7th century BCE Athens was handed the task of composing a new body of laws. We have no particular clues concerning his life and general biography and the only certainty is that, as an aristocrat and an educated man, he was in the right place at the right time in order to take his opportunity and legislate. During the infancy of the Athenian legal system Draco composed the city's first written law code with the aim of reducing arbitrary decisions of punishment and blood feuds between parties. Ultimately, though, the laws aided and legitimized the political power of the aristocracy and allowed them to consolidate their control of the land and poor. Famously harsh, the laws were ultimately replaced by Solon in 594 BCE.

Historical Background

Αfter the creation of city- states (πόλις - κράτος, polis - kratos) in Greece, around the 8th Century BCE, sovereigns in major cities like Athens started losing power. The king, in order to maintain power and safety in his city started sharing the land with various noblemen, that in the first place, had been members of his council of war. Later, these noblemen created the hoplite phalanx (οπλιτική φάλαγγα, oplitiki falagga). The phalanx was not only a military group of men but gradually shaped into a political body and eventually gained power from the King. Thus, an aristocracy was born. In Athens, the aristocrats controlled the land and they had most of the privileges, the political rights, and, of course, the money in the polis. The law was held by them and was only written for their own purposes and from their own perspective. Most Athenians had to live in relative poverty and under this regime simple workmen and farmers had no choice but to be ruled by the aristocrats. Gradually the Athenians found themselves in a city where very few held political power, money, land and, most importantly, control of the (unwritten) law.

Justice has not always been dispensed by judges operating under a written or common law equally applicable to all. In early Athens, justice was not a matter of applying a written standard to any situation or dispute. There were no explicitly written sentencing guides or judicial precedents on which to call. Rather, the victims themselves were responsible for exacting retribution or compensation for any crime. If the victim was dead, the family was left to take revenge or seek compensation. These blood feuds could last for generations as families sought to avenge a loss, rarely admitting fault and always seeking absolution. (Salowey & Northen Magill).

Continue reading...

[m-ayo-o]

time swap

18+ smutty // Riftan is your modern day boyfriend ~ you go back in time together to experience life as his princess wc 590 selfshiptember; 25

who else can easily self insert with maxi...

Being dragged back in time to an era filled with knights, dragons and wizards is just about mind boggling enough– let alone trying to remember all of the rules and etiquette that have suddenly been imposed upon you.

As a woman of the modern world, you’re used to doing whatever you want, whenever you want. You have freedoms and rights and can follow your own will and whimsy. It helps that you’re confident and have the ability to defend yourself in dangerous situations. But you’re used to being undeniably independent. And strong.

Now, after following your boyfriend back to his era, you’ve found yourself surrounded by maids, servants, assistants, cooks, butlers– endless people babying you.

They tend to your every need, from the moment you wake, getting you dressed in the ridiculous corsets and gowns, to eating, drinking, bathing, sleeping– you can barely breathe on your own.

And that’s just the castle personnel.

Now you’re here, you can see where Riftan’s ‘old fashioned’ tendencies stem from.

Here, his possessive nature is spiralling out of control. You understand that he’s your knight, your husband, sworn to protect and serve, but he doesn’t forgo any of the formalities. 

And he’s become ever so strict.

He chastises you for wanting to leave the castle by yourself like it’s some kind of crazy idea.

“No. That’s dangerous. And you can’t go out like that.” He eyes the simple frock you’re wearing as you look down over yourself.

He has the maids dress you then finally allows you to leave with your arm wrapped around his, escorting you through the busy streets.

He seems even more agitated during functions and parties that are filled with royals, noblemen and knights.

Even if you open your mouth to speak to the wrong person, he’s tugging you away and keeping you to himself. He won’t leave your side all night.

Those are some of the more suffocating behaviours that have come to light– but there are others that you could get used to.

When disembarking a carriage, for example, he will not allow you to step off by yourself. He opens the door, takes your hand and guides you down the steps. If the weather is bad he won’t even permit you to set foot on the damp, muddy ground. You will be carried.

But what really gets you is the way he greets you.

It’s the same in public, in private, wherever you are and whoever you’re with.

He lowers his head in a bow, muttering ‘my princess’ and brushing feather light kisses over your fingers.

And if he’s missed you it gets even better.

He kneels before you.

He presses his head into your tummy while you stroke his hair, nervously looking round at all the servants dashing away and sparing fleeting glances at the two of you.

“Riftan,” you tilt his chin up, “don’t you think this is– ah, too much?”

“No,” he grumbles and gives you a stern look, finally standing and taking your hand, pulling you up the stairs to your private wing.

He may be the perfect gentleman during the day, however, when he gets you behind your bedroom door that is soon to change.

His chivalrous behaviour falls away with your clothes, leaving you exposed but finally able to breathe. 

He covers your body in kisses, showing his true nature when he sinks his teeth into your soft skin.

He dips his head lower, all of his rules to keep you safe and protected being cast aside when he finally hears you moan.

selfshiptember 25!

likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! <3

[heireign]

DOSSIER CHEAT SHEET.

LEGAL NAME: Rhaenyra Targaryen

NICKNAME[S]: nyra, rhae, the realm’s delight, the dragon queen, the half year queen, the pretender queen, the bitch queen, king maegor with teats, rhaenyra the cruel

GENDER: cis-woman.

DATE OF BIRTH: December 27th, 97AC

PLACE OF BIRTH: the red keep, kings landing, the crownlands.

CURRENTLY LIVING: dragonstone, the crownlands.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: the common tongue, high valyrian, pentoshi, lyseni, and braavosi with varying degrees of fluency, enough to be able to great and converse with delegations from those places. in her asoiaf verse she knows the common tongue, high valyrian, lyseni and is currently learning some dothraki.

EDUCATION: extensive, from an early age. treated near her entire life as her father's heir in all but name, and a royal princess besides. there was a lot that was expected of her, and a lot that was expected for her to know. it was thorough before she became heir to the iron throne in its entirety, but after, it began to include other subjects. before she committed to memory the names of all of the present great lords of the noble houses of westeros, their seats, and their heirs and holding. she learned her letters, and her numbers, she learned how to read and write. she learned how to do maths. she learned how to stand, how to walk, how to dance. she learned societal courtesies and what was considered polite and what wasn't. she learned how to sew, and how to embroider. she started to learn the histories of the seven kingdoms and of the old valyrian freehold, she learned how to speak high valyria. she shadowed every member of her father's small council so she might know, practically, how a position was maintained and upkept. she was beginning to be taught how to string a bow, and pull that string back, and shoot ( which continued after she became heir to the throne ) she had been how to play the harp, and the gittern first, but she would seek out a teacher to teach her how to play the violin later on, circa 111AC, for she had bought one for her fourteenth birthday out of sheer fascination with the instrument, and wanted to learn it. she also learned about the faith of the seven, and the seven faces of god. after she had been named heir to the throne. she began learning of the other gods, the old gods, the drowned god, the merling king, as well as the gods of the old freehold. she began learning philosphy, and studying the law to the letter, often pouring over leatherbound copies of the laws that were both cemented by aegon the dragon, and the ones for each of the seven kingdoms that existed before, and still exist today. she would have studied court rulings, and court sessions dating back to the conqueror's reign, and would've sought out accountings of his, king aenys', and king jaehaerys' reigns. to both study the heights of their rules and the pitfalls, so she might learn where they went right, and where they went wrong. she would've also learned how to at least affectively wield a dagger in her own defense, a thing that was taught to her by ser criston cole. she would also start learning other languages, and languages that might better help with rhaenyra completing her duties as heir re: welcoming the envoys that might travel to the court to meet with king viserys, and serving as their guide to show them around the red keep. she would also have active experience as a means of education, as she was sent on at least one progress that we know during her time as heir in which she held court for the smallfolk and noblemen alike to learn the state of things, and to learn what needs to be brought directly before the crown, and what can be handled now, or what needs to be tended when she has the power and influence to handle it. and then, she took up dragonstone in its entirety when she was sixteen years old, and ruled it effectively for sixteen years.

HAIR COLOR:   silver white, a bit more white then silver, closer akin to a moonlight color, and most usually bound in two braids on either side of her head that she loops around her ears. it's wavy, unbound, and reaches very near to the floor, and she is very meticulous about keeping her hair healthy.

EYE COLOR: a warmer, mid toned amethyst. a color that she's noted to have shared with both the queen rhaenys i, and her granddaughter daena the defiant, in the later accounts.

STATURE: short.

PHYSIQUE: plus sized. rhaenyra has defined muscle in her arms and legs, and in her thighs in particular. she also has wide hips and an ample chest. we know from george that she was never skinny even before she had her children, but it is noted in fire and blood that she did not lose any of the weight that she gained during her first three pregnancies.

FAMILY INFORMATION.

SIBLING[S]: one lost before she was born, five unnamed that her mother either miscarried or lost in the cradle, prince baelon targaryen ( who died a day after their mother ) , aegon ii targaryen ( half brother ) , queen helaena targaryen ( half sister ) , prince aemond targaryen ( half brother ) , prince daeron targaryen ( half brother ).

PARENT[S]: king viserys i targaryen ( father ) and queen aemma arryn ( mother ) , queen alicent hightower ( stepmother )

CHILDREN: prince jacaerys velaryon ( with harwin, claimed by laenor ), prince lucerys velaryon ( with harwin, claimed by laenor ), prince joffrey velaryon ( with harwin, claimed by laenor ), aegon iii targaryen ( with daemon ), viserys ii targaryen ( with daemon ), princess visenya targaryen ( deceased, with daemon ) , princess baela targaryen ( her stepdaughter ), princess rhaena targaryen ( her stepdaughter )

EXTENDED: prince jaehaerys targaryen ( nephew ), queen jaehaera targaryen ( niece ), prince maelor targaryen ( nephew ), prince baelon targaryen ( paternal grandfather ), princess alyssa targaryen ( paternal grandmother ), princess daella targaryen ( maternal grandmother ) , lord rodrik arryn ( maternal grandfather ), lady elys fossoway nee arryn ( her mother's eldest half sister, first born ), lady amanda massey nee arryn ( her mother's half sister, second born ), lord roland arryn ( her mother's eldest half brother, third born, father of jeyne ), alester arryn ( her mother's half brother, fourth born, father of arnold, and grandfather to eldric ), lady jeyne arryn ( first cousin ), ser arnold arryn ( first cousin ), lady elinda massey ( first cousin, daughter to amanda ), lady mallyrie fossoway ( first cousin, daughter to lady elys, and younger twin to elias ), ser elias fossoway ( first cousin, son to lady elys, and older twin to mallyrie ) , ser oswin arryn ( distant cousin ), princess rhaenys targaryen ( first cousin once removed ), ser laenor velaryon ( second cousin ), lady laena velaryon ( second cousin ) , king jaehaerys i targaryen ( great grandfather ) , queen alysanne targaryen ( great grandmother ), maester vaegon ( great uncle ) , princess saera targaryen ( great aunt )

PET[S]: a female falcon that was gifted to her by her cousin, the lady jeyne in 111AC in the months after the tourney that resulted in the official creation of the green and black factions - a show of support, that she named jonquil. a hawk that she bought the following year named terax. as well as a little orange kitten that she took in as a stray on dragonstone, that she named elenei. she also has an older black cat that was found by one of her children that she named florian that resides primarily in her rooms.

RELATIONSHIP INFORMATION

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: biromantic / demisexual.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: married in her main verse - but it is verse determinant.

SINCE WHEN: she wed her first husband ser laenor velaryon the sixteenth of january, 114AC, and was married to him until his death in february of 120AC. she wed her second husband, prince daemon targaryen in 120AC, and was married to him until 130AC, upon their deaths.

tagged by: i found it in the tags and wanted to do it < 3

tagging: @lcerys , @adamanteine , @worthyheir, @mayregina , @kingmaketh, @greendowager, and @westsgem

[forthegothicheroine]

@gehayi said: can you please tell us more about Israel Rank?

POV: We are at a slumber party and I am kicking my feet and giggling and telling you about the boy I like.

"Oh my god, his name is Israel Rank, and he's from a book called Israel Rank: Autobiography of a Criminal, and he is so hot! The musical A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, and the movie Kind Hearts and Coronets were both based on the book, but they made him other things besides Jewish, which is so bogus. Roger Ebert said it made the story more 'universal', which I guess means half-Italian is more universal than half-Jewish, which, what the fuck?

Anyway, he's the worst person in the world and I love him. He's like Heathcliff plus Steerpike plus Edmund the Bastard. He's the really distant relative of and earl, and his mother was disinherited for marrying a Jewish man. Israel isn't technically Jewish, he was baptized and raised Anglican, but he looks Jewish- and also really hot, and he says that combination upsets people! Kind of an Adrian Brody thing? I would have cast Ezra Miller before they turned out to be a shitshow of a person. And his name is Israel, kind of as a fuck you to mom's family. So he decides if people are going to give him shit about it anyway, he's going to embrace it.

He's in love with this girl Sibella, who won't marry him because he's both half-Jewish and poor, so starting as a hypothetical lark he wonders if he could just murder every single family member between him and an earldom. And then he does it! After sexual fantasies about Lucrezia Borgia encouraging him to! What an absolute freak.

So he starts killing, and his narration is so dry and funny about it. He tells the reader that in his experience, Jews aren't all that violent- he speculates that Shylock would have walked back the pound of flesh if he'd had time to calm down- but he has the blood of evil rapacious noblemen on his non-Jewish side which are to blame. He kills most of his family, except for the cousin-in-law whom he marries. He also still love Sibella. And his wife! He just can't stop fucking, he's so awful! (And I think he's bisexual. At least, I don't know how else I'm supposed to interpret the part where he's in school and "the boy I loved chose me as his Jonathan.")

And he gets away with it! He's super popular at his trial because he's so handsome and charming and the same society that scorned him, now that he's an earl, gossips that his Jewish ancestry must be very slight and distant. And there's a twist that gets him off the hook which is actually a real bummer of a plot point, even he's bummed out by it, but it's such a perfect capper to a life of cruelty.

Honestly, I do get why none of the adaptations keep the half-Jewish thing, they're probably afraid it would seem antisemitic, but in my opinion it's a real shame because it's so central to his character and I think I do want a sexy Jewish Byronic antihero. He's the worst. I love him. I would marry him. I would immediately divorce him. His favorite book is Emma!"

For a more academic discussion, I did a podcast episode on him way back when!

[stromuprisahat]

Alina's prophecies

Siege and Storm- Chapter 18

I feel like there's more to Alina's fake Suli prophecies, but let's be honest- my brain froze during this chapter and I can't seem to be able to delve into it, so I'll just point out her contribution.

Because hot men are always secretly evil! Never let your pussy guide you!!!

Suli seem to take their seers seriously, but I doubt some nouveau riche invite them for more than simple entertainment. They're supposed to be fun, but Alina doesn't even make fun of her "customers", she's outright cruel.

She sees a couple of giggly carefree girls, likely dreaming of finding a good match and a good husbands in the same person, no matter how unusual would that be, and turns Malyen's promises upside down.

Yes, you will get what you want, but it will be the the worst thing for you. Picking the path you think will make you miserable will pay off.

Somehow it feels like Alina's punishing them for being what she's not allowed to be- young and seemingly without responsibilities.

Next are two drunk noblemen:

They (possibly) offend Alina's not-exactly-friend, so she uses it as an excuse to take justice in her own hands and does her best to at least hurt their feelings.

She aims well.

The best way to offend people is to give voice to what they already fear.

... and mysterious STDs always work.

The man seemed to have something to say about bastards and infidelity... how likely is it that he speaks from experience?