#♔ ↠ character study

[crudelisdrakon]

tag dump

[quillheel]

CHARACTER AESTHETIC — BOLD /ITALICS WHAT APPLIES & REPOST

tagged by: @rebellionhearted , thank you sm!!!!!! <3 <3

tagging: @tenebriism / @tendercoded / @leuvspell / @gloryseized / @finalfronticr / @dreamjumps / @abyssembraced / @somnium-led / @stellaxincubo / @cicxdas / @adventuroushero / @playedbetter and anyone wearing glasses or a hair accessory today! multi's, do as thy wilt! do w/e muses u want!

SOUNDS.

tinkling of piano keys / the click of a lock / an engine starting, stalling / sinful whispers / stifled sobbing / the rattle of death / alarm blaring / a siren call / spanish guitar strumming / loud laughter at midnight / banshee screeching / drunk hiccuping / the giggle of a child / rolling thunder / disdainful chuckling / bones creaking / carefree whistling / singing off key / flesh hitting concrete / white noise / a mirror cracking / laboured breathing / a groan of pain / waves lapping at the shore / the roar of a lion / pages turning / swords clashing / deep humming / birds chirping / dial tone / tongue popping / fingers tapping a surface / crystals breaking / music turned up to the limit / raindrops on a roof / angry yelling / yawning at noon / horns going off / ravens talking / bubblegum bursting / splashing water / teakettle squeal / militia drums / wolves howling / slow, sarcastic clapping / soprano notes / whispering pleas / gregorian chants / mournful cries

VISUALS.

filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time / freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead / tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails / strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

SCENTS.

burnt leaves / turkish coffee / spiced rum / moss / vanilla beans / freshly cut grass / decay / sea salt / strawberries and cream / cinnamon / honey / copper / pineapple / wet dog / pine needles / wood shavings / rainsoaked bark / something sharp, indefinable / Russian tea / dandelions / squeezed limes / Italian wine / freshly laundered clothes / coming rain / hardtack and gruel / roasting flesh / something cloying in the chest / ichor / lillies in spring / pollen / damp clothes / meatpies / greasy coins / curdled milk / leather / bone marrow / wet cement / ricecakes / open paint cans / cocoa leaves / tar / apples / sandlewood cologne / orchids / molded onions / cheap perfume / mistletoe / rubber on fire / grave dirt / old books / new books / melting plastic / roses / poison oak / seacucumbers / peppermint handcream

SOUNDS.

tinkling of piano keys / the click of a lock / an engine starting, stalling / sinful whispers / stifled sobbing / the rattle of death / alarm blaring / a siren call / spanish guitar strumming / loud laughter at midnight / banshee screeching / drunk hiccuping / the giggle of a child / rolling thunder / disdainful chuckling / bones creaking / carefree whistling / singing off key / flesh hitting concrete / white noise / a mirror cracking / laboured breathing / a groan of pain / waves lapping at the shore / the roar of a lion / pages turning / swords clashing / deep humming / birds chirping / dial tone / tongue popping / fingers tapping a surface / crystals breaking / music turned up to the limit / raindrops on a roof / angry yelling / yawning at noon / horns going off / ravens talking / bubblegum bursting / splashing water / teakettle squeal / militia drums / wolves howling / slow, sarcastic clapping / soprano notes / whispering pleas / gregorian chants / mournful cries

VISUALS.

filled notebooks / dogeared books / clean shaves / empty stares / sleeping at a desk / the witching hour / driving all night / restless tides / broken windows / coffee any time / freshly baked goods / bonfires / lounging felines / circles under your eyes / bedhead / tangling in the sheets / leather jackets / paint stains / music sheets / too many tabs to find the music / weary brows / card games / messy ponytails / strained smiles / unsent texts / heart on your sleeve / slow dancing in the rain / star gazing / torn jeans / piles of clothes / filled bookshelves / hurricanes / chapped lips / cliff diving / the lights in venice / stolen kisses / poet shirts / half melted candles / empty coffee mugs / hot tea / unlaced boots / shameless flirting / too young to be so old / laced fingers / eyes in the trees / bloody knuckles / french letters / neon lights / ivy covered balconies

SCENTS.

burnt leaves / turkish coffee / spiced rum / moss / vanilla beans / freshly cut grass / decay / sea salt / strawberries and cream / cinnamon / honey / copper / pineapple / wet dog / pine needles / wood shavings / rainsoaked bark / something sharp, indefinable / Russian tea / dandelions / squeezed limes / Italian wine / freshly laundered clothes / coming rain / hardtack and gruel / roasting flesh / something cloying in the chest / ichor / lillies in spring / pollen / damp clothes / meatpies / greasy coins / curdled milk / leather / bone marrow / wet cement / ricecakes / open paint cans / cocoa leaves / tar / apples / sandlewood cologne / orchids / molded onions / cheap perfume / mistletoe / rubber on fire / grave dirt / old books / new books / melting plastic / roses / poison oak / seacucumbers / peppermint handcream

[couronnez]

//Just to clarify if it hasn't been clear already:

Show!Vasily is not my Vasily.

I'm primarily book and headcanon based and there will be some small things from the show I will implement with him but you can still consider him blonde and not outright evil and grisha hunting here. I will clarify down below. I was so outright disappointed what they did to him and how they literally butchered his recasting by making him a brunette. My Vasya is blonde and blonde only. Also his uniform - A LITERAL FUCKING CARPET??? - anyway I will not rant about s2 because it was messy and I only liked some parts of it.

Things I will implement from the show:

1. Vasily as the commander of the first army. In my verses, he has had this position for a longer time, even before his father's sickness.

2. Vasily making dumb jokes about undressing people but always asking for consent. That was sooo good. I really liked that. It's the massive distinction between him and his father.

3. His behavior in season 1 (playing in with his saber when bored or in distress) and his actor George Parker as a fc.

Differences between show!Vasily and my Vasily:

1. Hair color and style!!!!

2. Uniform - dark blue season 1 style stays for me, not the CARPET

3. Grisha hunting. Just no. Vasily respects Grisha. Period.

4. His connections to Fjerda. I think that Vasily is fascinated by the home country of his mother and speaks Fjerdan perfectly. Also he is very versed about their culture and religion, even if he doesn't practice it

5. My Vasily died making a deal with Fjerdans - even if it wasn't so out of character for him to invite his drinking friends

6. My Vasily would never call Nikolai the things he said to him in the show IN PUBLIC and live to see the tale. Nikolai would kill him. Or tell him off at least.

7. His relationship with his father. Alexander Lantsov has abused him physically and mentally for most of his life and Vasily despises him with his whole heart.

[belacedia]

still very much attached to my hemokinesis / bloodbending headcanon & you can pry it from my cold dead hands ... despite all of the perils of illnesses transmitted through open wounds that Bel is at an extremely high risk of catching — considering how lackadaisical he is about injuries, I think that Bel can fight off a lot of infections ( somewhat subconsciously ) due to his blood manipulation ability

like its super self indulgent but I like this headcanon because it can explain so many of the narrative plot holes that khr is riddled with. bel miraculously survived the detonation at the end of the storm ring battle ( whereas gokudera would have died or at least been hospitalized for life ) because he can use his ability to partially supplement natural healing and stem blood loss. he is obsessed with “royal blood” because he can only manipulate the blood of his clan; his increased capabilities and adrenaline rush when his blood is spilled is because he is controlling his own blood flow to transport oxygen / nutrients / adrenaline

I also liked the idea that his ability is not fully voluntary: he cannot trigger it on will, as it only “awakens” when he feels that he is in danger of losing a fight. which would explain why he does not use it under normal circumstances & why he only goes into his prince the ripper state after he has been injured

[recoveringjock]

CHARACTER QUIRKS AND HABITS.   bold  what  applies  to  your  character.

likes artificial watermelon.  sleeps in what they are already wearing.  eats their cereal with milk. listens to music with earbuds.  hates the summer.   can recite past the first four digits of pi.   eats frosting out of the jar.   doodles on their notebooks.   can bake cookies.   has a garden.   has had a snowball fight.   eats pancakes without syrup. prefers shorts over pants.   can name more than ten superheroes.   has a plan for the zombie apocalypse.   uses the same password for everything.   can’t hold their breath for more than fifteen seconds.   watches anime.   hasn’t read harry potter.  can say ‘I love you’ in more than one language.  prefers mechanical pencils.   thinks space is cool.   takes personality tests more than once to make sure.   can’t tie their shoelaces.   has a purse.  likes salads.   likes cool colours better than warm colours.  knows how to braid hair.  reads biographies.   can ice skate.   knows their mbti.   reads astrology charts.   prefers the star wars prequels to the original trilogy.   plays video games.  reads the newspaper.  likes chocolate ice cream best.   doesn’t cuss.   memorizes song lyrics.   collects coupons.   has a preferred order at starbucks.   likes movie theater popcorn.   has seen a play.  listens to music with headphones.   owns a hoodie.   would rather own cds than online copies. has written a poem.   can shuffle cards.   subscribes to a magazine.   double dips when eating.   drinks directly out of the milk container.   keeps a journal.

tagged by : @starskatr​ & @munsontm​   tagging : you :-) 

[hisunshiine]

— a wager of lords & love | myg

♔ pairing: noble!yoongi x noble!reader

♔ au/genre: regency era au, arranged marriage au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst

♔ rating: M

♔ wc: 6,813

⚔ warnings: reader’s mom is not alive, era-appropriate sexism, sex jokes, pet names, bedding ceremony, explicit smut: fingering, marking, light breast play, oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, you will fall so hard for yoongi. 

♔ an: this story was written for Leah | @colormepurplex2​ as part of the BangtanWHQ Valentine’s Event “Picture Perfect”. Thank you to my beta readers: @downbad4yoongi​, @peachiilovesot7​, and @moonleeai​; this story was so much fun to write. Your feedback, as always, was valuable to making not only this story at it’s best but also making my day better when reading your comments. I love regency era au’s and this one only made me fall even more madly in love with Yoongi, and I hope you will too! Please enjoy!

“What in heaven’s name did I do last night?”

Yoongi groans as he rolls over in his plush bed sheets, sunlight streaming through the window at an ungodly hour. Ungodly, because he never sleeps in this late, but the Scottish whisky and late night at Lord Kim Namjoon’s manor has made him act out of character in more ways than one. 

*flashback to the previous evening*

“Yoongi, it has been too long since we’ve gotten together properly. You must come celebrate. It’s not every day that one as young as I is able to acquire more wealth than what feels like the King himself can own.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes from where he stands across the study from his large oak desk, hand gripping the telephone to his ear as he leans closer to the box on the wall to reply.

“I have a plethora of worries, Namjoon, and none of them can be solved by celebrating your wealth.”

“I beg to differ! Come! Have a drink and make merry, partake in some illicit pleasantries. I am sure that’s just what you need to clear your mind and find a resolution.”

“I doubt I will have a resolution by the night’s end, but against my better judgment, I will be there.”

And Yoongi made sure to keep his promise, strolling into the large manor filled to the brim with the most darling of debutantes from Daehurst to Ilsansterchire. He recalls the way the single women seemed to throw themselves at him, all fluttering eyelashes and demure smiles as if they were captivated by his looks and not the wealth they knew lay in wait for his future bride. 

The knowledge of his arrival spread like wildfire through the ballroom and Yoongi had felt himself grow flustered as a gaggle of pristine beauties crowded around him to fight for his attention. He kept his face nonplussed despite the rising anxiety creeping along his outer extremities and towards his chest. Luckily, the arrival of the Earl of Upton Busan and the Marquees of Gwangchester helped reduce the number of women in his presence.

Yoongi remembers pretending to be summoned by a friend, escaping into what he thought was an empty parlor that belonged to the late Lord Kim, but the sitting room, with two walls filled from floor to ceiling with books of all sizes and colors was, in fact, occupied. The large oak desk off to the side held an older gentleman, who also seemed to be happy in his solitude, hiding from the revelry.  

The man moved a jewel-encrusted chessman across a marble chess board before looking up at Yoongi, a slight nod of his head summoning Yoongi over to join him. He produced a bottle of Smokehead Islay single-malt scotch whisky that he’d been nursing, poured Yoongi a hefty serving into a Glencairn whisky glass, which he promptly swirled to open up the aromas for full appreciation before downing the entire portion.

He knows that this was the catalyst for the conversation of what was bothering him, and so Yoongi, lips loosened from his liquor intake, shared to whom he found out was the Marquees of Seoulshire, his predicament. How his late father’s younger brother, jealous of his position, was sowing distrust in the elder’s bloodline, touting the fact that his eldest son was already married and with an heir on the way, when Yoongi had yet to take a woman’s hand in marriage despite being five years older than his cousin.

Typically, this would not be such a strange thing; many male nobility did not wed until their late twenties, and Yoongi only recently turned his twenty-ninth year, but with his estranged uncle vying to take over the wealth and power of the entire family following his father’s passing, Yoongi had to procure a wife, and fast. 

Bonding with the elder nobleman, both introverts sequestered themselves with flowing, piquant beverages, and a small miniature of the only daughter of the Marquees produced for viewing, and thus, a drunken deal was struck for the hand of his only daughter to be wed in one week’s time to the Duke of Daehurst, Min Yoongi. That only daughter being none other than…

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. The white dress, with its cut right beneath your bosom, is stifling despite its beauty, and the body of the gown falls along your figure gently. The sleeves are loosely capped, a lace frill edging the cuffs and the line of your decolletage. Your hair is pinned up, with a tiara inlaid with precious stones as the centerpiece to secure the veil flowing down your back in place.

The gloved hand of your maid of honor, Eleanor, who you lovingly refer to as Ellie, reaches up to fluff the veil, nervous energy displacing itself as she holds back from igniting your ire again. You have only just calmed down as your lady’s maid, Charity, places the last of the thrown perfume bottles back on the vanity. You had catapulted them for good reason, you believe. For in a few minutes, you, the unmarried daughter of the Marquees of Seoulshire, will walk down the aisle in the Duke of Daehurst’s manor, towards a man you have never spoken to—have never met—where your traitorous father plans to give you away to become the Duchess of Daehurst. 

“Lady Eleanor, will you please take your spot at the door?” Charity asks quietly, following a quick rap on the door, and you feel your heart begin a mad dash within the cavity of your ribcage. As a woman, you have nothing—no power, no wealth of your own, even your title changes from your father to that of your future husband. Some of the things your father has bought you have traveled from your home to the Duke’s, but other items are expected to be bought new, because even they belong to your father. Your only worth lies in the ability to be a proper match for a nobleman and provide him with an heir to carry on his bloodline. 

A rush of anger quells the sadness this arranged marriage has left you feeling this past week, since your father went back on the one promise he made you: that you could marry for love, like he did with your late mother, rest her soul. 

You scoff at the thought that men should hold any power in society. In one moment, your own father forgot his loyalty as well as his promise to his only daughter. In a drunken stupor, two men agreed to trade you like chattel, your position in life changing in the blink of an eye. Useless, is what they are.

The door is open just a sliver, allowing in the swell of the music, and you hear the creak of the hinges as Ellie disappears down the hall. Your father stands in the corridor, his eyes staring at the floor, unable to meet yours. You can tell he feels rather guilty for the predicament he has forced on you, but with the knowledge that he is not actually mad at the match, you still feel furious. Marrying up in society may afford you a better life, not that you would have had a destitute one with your father’s title, you’d just hoped (and had been promised you would get) to be in love with the man waiting at the end of the aisle for you, instead of dreading the stranger you were about to meet. 

Barely able to focus, you feel out of body as your father wraps your arm through his and leads you down the same path Ellie took just moments before. You can see the archway that leads into the wedding hall where your family and friends wait to observe you promise to obey and cherish a man who was described to you by your father as a “rather strapping young man, who’s quiet but wise and with gentle eyes.”

Taking the turn into the room, all eyes are drawn to you as your eyes are drawn to him. He looks breathtaking. Is this truly the man your father made a drunken deal with? The two of you lock eyes, and you work to fix the shock from your face as his demeanor barely changes. In a blink, your father is placing your hand into the Duke’s, and you are able to take in his features up close.

His face is sharp, eyes angled in a cat-like manner that give the impression he is gazing into your soul and sees the truth you attempt to keep hidden. His hair, wavy and pitch black, is parted to the side where the length falls into his face in an alluring manner. It calls to you, wanting to tuck it behind his ear if only to touch his porcelain skin, unblemished and glowing. 

He watches you closely, eyes traveling across your frame as he follows your lead, drinking you in. You’re sure that you still look flawless, ever the blushing bride that Charity and Ellie made you up to be, and for a moment you wonder if the Duke is as taken by your looks as you are by his, before remembering that he is the enemy. 

The ceremony ends quickly, a recitation of words that will join you in holy matrimony, followed by words promising to remain faithful to one another until parted by death, and you find yourself face to face with the Duke. He takes a small ring from the man right behind him, Lord Kim Namjoon, who you recognize from his many visits to handle business with your father. 

“Like this ring, I shall endlessly provide for you and cherish you, until I no longer exist.”

You can hear Ellie swoon from the low tone his voice takes to deliver the sentiment as he stares into your eyes. Vulnerability flashes for a moment before he looks down, focus solely pointed towards the task of claiming you by way of a golden wedding ring, moonstone inlaid with tiny diamonds surrounding it. 

Ellie nudges you to hand you the ring provided for the ceremony by the Min family. It is a deep ebony, with a single thin gold stripe running across the middle of the band. The top is raised to a plateau, a moonstone carved with the Yeoheung Min Clan symbol set within the ring.  

Taking the regalia from her gloved palm, you recite your part with eyes on him. Despite your anger at the arrangement, he truly is breathtaking. It takes away from the sting of your words just barely, enough that you are able to deliver them without gagging on the bristling words.

“Like this ring, I shall endlessly obey and cherish you, until I no longer exist.”

You barely hear when the minister says that the two of you are free to share a kiss, but you dutifully keep your face calm as your stomach ties itself into knots. 

He leans closer, blush colored lips drawing closer until your eyes close with the contact. So soft…his lips tenderly settle against yours, slight pressure as he angles his head to receive you better, hands falling to your hips gently as he tugs you a step closer and it’s like the room disappears leaving just the two of you in it. 

All too soon the room comes back into focus as he steps away, face blushing as the room erupts into applause and cheer from the audience. The end of the ceremony is like a blur, and the next thing that you are aware of, you are seated for an early dinner and a reception in the Daehurst Manor Great Hall for guests to greet you and your new husband, leave expensive gifts, and offer kind words of advice for a long-lasting, happy marriage.

“Would it be weird to introduce myself to you, seeing as I am already your spouse?”

His voice is intriguing—having barely heard it during the ceremony—a low rumble that has you leaning in to hear him better. 

“I assure you, my lord, weird was deciding for me that I would marry you, without even bothering to meet me beforehand. What if I had been an ogre? But I digress, it’s not any weirder than hearing you call yourself my husband, husband.”

He smiles, one side of his mouth lifting in an amused smirk as he turns in his seat to face you head on. You dislike him even more that your snide remark made not a dent in his armor. No trace of the bashful hue from the kiss lingers, cat eyes glinting with mischief. 

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my non-ogre wife. I am Duke Min Yoongi of Daehurst.”

Charity and Ellie can barely contain their laughter as they stare at your contemptuous face. Eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed, you shake your head rapidly in distaste at the bedding ceremony outfit they laid out for you. 

“I simply will not wear it.”

“Please, Lady Min, you will leave him stunned. It’s perfect.”

“Who said I want to stun that man? Besides, I cannot be seen in so little clothing by a stranger!”

“He’s hardly a stranger, love,” Ellie said, ignoring your stubborn nature. “He’s your husband.”

“Yes, my husband whom I have known all of two hours! I’m just expected to strut in wearing this to please him, and then—” you pause, stricken as your thoughts settle on what is expected of you.

“Yes, you will wear this very thoughtful gift from me, and then you will consummate the marriage!” Ellie whispers the act as if conspiring to commit a crime. To be fair, you felt like a criminal for how indecent the undergarments were. 

Laid on the bed was a short, white boned corset, all frill and lace with a matching pair of high waisted drawers. Ellie had also provided a matching pair of white stockings, made of silk and to be held up with ruffled garters at your thigh. There was a silky chemise that you could wear as a tunic to cover yourself, but once in the Duke’s bedroom, he would see you in all of your risque glory. 

“Come now, m’lady, we must finish getting you ready. I am sure the men are chomping at the bit to begin the ceremony.”

Dread fills you as you strip from your wedding dress and step into the lingerie your maid of honor gifted you for your wedding night.

“Well, they can just chomp a bit longer, maybe they can tire each other out enough that I am not needed tonight.”

Having only bathed two hours prior, you are able to skip the bath and spend a few more precious moments with your closest friends. You didn’t have a mother to talk to about things like bedding ceremonies, having learned everything you could from the head house matron, kitchen maids, Charity, and Ellie. Ellie was able to convince her own mother to share a little this past week to help you, but there was still so much you felt you did not know to expect. 

As Charity brushes your hair, Ellie spreads a glittering, perfumed powder onto your skin as she talks in the background of the excitement she feels, but you cannot bring yourself to share in it. With a quick twist and pin, your hair is up and you find your feet leading towards the Duke’s wing of the manor. You can hear the merrymaking from the reception still carrying on downstairs; with a wedding as important as yours, you were sure that the people would be here celebrating your union until the sun began to rise.

The door to the Duke’s room is ajar, loud laughter coming from the well lit room. Ellie walks arm in arm with you as Charity follows behind, seeing you off. As your lady’s maid, she’ll reside with you in the Daehurst manor. The housekeeper stands a few paces from the door to lead Charity to her new quarters. Bidding you goodnight, Charity retires for the evening as you and Ellie enter the bedchamber. It is quite spacious, with a large bed in the middle of the room. To the left of the entryway sits a low table surrounded by a pair of armchairs and a matching loveseat, all framed by a magnificent fireplace. 

Every seat is taken, with three men squeezing onto the loveseat and a sixth perched on the edge of one of the armchairs. You don’t recognize five of the six men, though Lord Kim Namjoon is among them. You do not see your new husband, so you and Ellie remain standing away from the men so as not to be seen as indecent. 

“Duchess! You have arrived for your bedding ceremony, have you not?” A blond haired man nearly falls from the love seat, giggles alerting you to his inebriation. An open decanter sits on the squat table, almost empty. 

“Please, Jimin, on all things that are holy, do not bother my wife.”

Your head whips around at the gravely sound of the Duke’s voice. Yoongi looks freshly bathed, no longer in a suit but in a long tunic that sits untucked over loose, black trousers. His dark hair falls in damp curls framing his face, and you hold in a small gasp. 

“I won’t bother her hole-y, hyung—that’s your job! Get her all hot and bother—”

“Get out.”

The giggling, intoxicated men all look to Yoongi, pouting with various levels of frowns and scowls adorning their faces. You and Ellie watch the interaction, Ellie with a smile at their banter and you with a grimace as you attempt to keep yourself from growing warm at the indecent remarks regarding what is to come.

“But hyung!” You watch as another one pouts, standing from the loveseat to full height to plead with your husband. “You’re the first to be wed, we’ve been talking about being witnesses for each other for years!” 

“Taehyung, you know the plan was to be here when she arrived as a testament to the wedding night, but never to stay. I appreciate your…excitement, but now that you can confirm the duchess’s arrival, you all may take your leave.”

“Appreciate our excitement, but won’t let us stay to watch as you get exci—”

“Jungkook, that’s enough! Out, now!”

With a groan, the three mischievous men begin to walk out of the bedchamber, waving at the older three who are slow to get up. Ellie squeezes your hand in unity before stepping away to follow the boisterous group out into the hall. 

“I’ll see you at breakfast, love. I’ll be traveling back to Seoulshire with your father tomorrow afternoon.”

You can only nod, aware of the plans but seeing her linger to make sure that you are okay. You give her a smile, and she finally steps through the threshold behind the first troupe of men to return back to the room you had prepared in. The last three men follow, greeting you and saying goodnight in the same breath.

“It is a pleasure to see you, my lady. I pray that by morning you are able to turn this peevish man affable.”

“Enjoy your night, Duchess!” 

“Yeah, all two minutes of it!”

Yoongi thunders to the door, shutting it as the group bursts into laughter muffled by the oak barrier. He turns the lock, then turns his back to it to lean against. You can’t help but to watch him, chest rising before he releases a long sigh. He reaches a hand up to his neck, scratching subtly. The sleeve of his tunic slides along his arm, revealing more unblemished skin. His head is facing the carpet, ink-colored hair falling to cover his face—a face you think you could like very much—eventually. Though right now, even the thought is not enough to quell your irritation at your welcoming. 

“I am so sorry for my friends’ behavior.”

His apology startles you. You are not used to men of his prestige to be so easy to offer an apology. During the wedding and at the reception, he appeared stoic, quiet and observing except for the few moments he engaged with you. You assumed it was just happenstance, that he was playing off of your stubborn jests, but seeing him now so open makes you wonder.

“My lord, no need to apologize. They were inebriated and excited for our coupling. Ellie was excited too, though she was better at keeping it hidden.”

“Yes, women do tend to be better at that. More practiced.”

“Do you truly believe that? I have watched my father work, and all noblemen seem to be very good at hiding their emotions.”

Yoongi smirks at your wit, pushing off of the door and walking closer to you.

“You are quite keen, my lady.”

His compliment startles you, as does his encroaching proximity. It is not menacing, if anything you are startled by your body’s response to it. His scent, a heady, woodsy musk infiltrates your senses causing any lingering animosity you had towards your father for this arrangement to seep from you. You’re tired of fighting; the knowledge of having lost before even starting lingering in your mind each time you fight back against the marriage has exhausted you. Still, you want to make sure that the Duke is aware that while you may be acquiescent, you are not easily compliant.

“My lord, I—” you look down at your hands, stumbling over your anger as you collect your thoughts. “I just want to say that I know neither of us wanted this, neither of us knew what to expect until we saw each other today, but I made a vow, so I promise to try my best, but I don’t know what I’m doing or what you expect from me, and I don’t think that I will be good at obeying, so please do not expect that from me. You may be a duke and my husband, but I demand that you treat me as an equal—”

“Shhh…” Yoongi’s thumb and forefinger grip your chin, tilting your head up to face him. You have no idea when he got so close. “I spent quite some time with your father, my lady. He spoke very highly of you and even produced your miniature from his coat pocket to show me. I may have been drunk, but I was not a fool in my decision.” His eyes rove across your face as he gently tilts your head side to side. “You are much more beautiful than the painting captured.”

If he’s hoping that flattery will tamper your annoyance, you feel he will need to try a bit harder. Though, to be fair, his flattery is working on you. Pair that with his face, and he’s doing quite a good job at putting out the fire, but you still remain steadfast. 

“How lucky to be a man. You got to see a sample of the product before buying, while I just had to trust that my father wasn’t so drunk that he sold me to the next man who walked past?” You scoff, crossing your arms as you raise your chin out of his hold in defiance.

“Trust me, princess, the luck was all mine. Had I not been the next man to walk by, who knows what woman I would have had to settle for.”

You can’t believe he’s teasing you. Calling you princess and making jokes off of your distress. You want to smack the smirk off his face. You want to kiss him again like at the altar. You’re clearly confused after such a long day of upheaval. 

“Right, because any woman should be grateful that you chose them? I was promised I would get to marry for love, just to wake up and be told I was marrying a stranger in a week.”

“Are you really angry because of this arrangement? Not that you should be grateful that I chose you, but you should be thankful for the life that you have, even before me. Not everyone lives how we do.”

Shock. That’s the only way to explain what you are feeling. He is not…man-splaining society’s plights to you, is he?

“I quite know this, my lord. I never said I was not grateful for my life, just that I am currently upset at a promise being broken.”

“Princess, I am sure you know this, but in your stubbornness, you seem to have forgotten yourself. You have a good life, you have food on the table prepared daily by the cooks and maids, and are not having to whore yourself out for a few coins to feed yourself.”

“No, I just have to whore myself to you for the rest of my life, provide you with heirs as soon as possible.” You decide to not hold back; if he’s going to be vulgar as a tactic, two could play at that game. “I may not be whoring myself out for a few coins to feed myself, but let’s not kid ourselves. We both know that I am not seen as anything more than a vessel for your cock and your children to use.”

“Tell me, princess, are you upset because you truly think me some evil, vile man, or are you actually more upset that you don’t have a real reason to push me away?” 

Yoongi steps away from you, walking over the bed and settling down on the edge. You can’t help but watch the way his veins move as he leans back and rests on his palms. He’s so handsome and so assured of himself, and behaving as if he doesn’t even care that it’s your wedding night. You really don’t know how to explain how you’re feeling, because everything is at odds. He mistakes your silence during your internal debate as confusion and continues to explain.

“I know I’m not unappealing to the eye, and not an old geezer like many of your friends have had to deal with, I’m sure. We probably aren’t that far off in age difference, if there even is any. We’re young, and while you may be feeling angry about this marriage, I also get the feeling that you’ll be open to letting that anger go soon.”

“I barely know you, my lord, so please don’t take offense to this, but what, pray tell, gives you the feeling that I’ll be letting my anger go soon?” you ask, walking over to where he sits. You feel powerful as you position yourself right in front of him, and being above him like this with his head turned up in order to lock eyes with you, makes his cat eyes look even more alluring.

“Because, my dear wife,” Yoongi leans forward, entering your space as he brings his right arm up off the bed and to your thigh, “of what I plan to do to you tonight.”

Yoongi’s touch is like fire as he drags it up your thigh to the hem of your chemise, using both hands to grip the edge and pull you even closer to him. You inhale a breath, your body giving away just how much he affects you. The last tiny bit of you fights to not give in, that is, until he pouts up at you.

“If you’ll let me?”

Never have you experienced a man handing control over to you like this. All your life, you have been told what to do, how to behave, who to befriend, and even who to marry despite being promised that would be the one area you could decide. But here sits your husband, a man who quite literally holds you in his hands, able to do whatever he wants with your body now that he essentially owns you—this husband of yours is asking your permission to ruin you.

Unable to speak, you simply nod, eyes wide as he stands, and he never looks away from yours until your chemise blocks his view as he pulls it over your head. Now it’s his turn to inhale sharply as he takes in your angelic form. White lace corset ending just below the bust, high waisted lacy bottoms, ruched garters around each thigh with a clasp to hold your silk stockings in place…an angel, indeed. 

Leaning closer to you, his words send tingles down your body as he pleads with you.

“I need you to say it, my lady,” he whispers, “tell me that I can touch you here.” 

You jolt as you feel his hands touch the exposed skin of your side.

“Y-yes,” you say, clearing your throat due to how parched you sound. 

“And can I, say, touch you here?” One hand trails lower, fingers dancing over the front of your drawers as the other holds you in place. Two of his fingers slide between your thighs, pressing against your core, and you sigh out a quiet moan.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good girl.”

His fingers continue to travel back and forth, slight pressure causing you to grasp his shoulders for balance. He drops his head into the bend of your neck, lips leaving wet kisses on your overheated skin. He smells divine, his long hair tickling your cheek as he continues kissing and touching you. Your breathing gets louder, and he responds in kind, speeding up his fingers as you feel yourself ruining your panties for this man. 

“Y-yoongi…that f-feels really good,” you tell him, surprise lacing your whimpers. You don’t want him to stop touching you, if anything you want more. Yoongi’s lips are latched onto your neck, tongue swirling with light pressure as your knees grow weak. With a light nip of his teeth, he pulls away to speak. 

“I want you to always feel good with me, princess.” His gravelly voice is full of yearning, and you can tell he’s just as affected as you are. “I promise you’ll always feel good, if you let me take care of you.”

You can only nod your head, words eluding you as he turns you in his hold, pressing your back to his front while letting his fingers slide inside of your panties and part your lips. You feel his length pressing between your cheeks, thick and firm. He steps backwards with you, pulling you down until the two of you are seated on the edge of the bed. You’ve never been so turned on, dropping your head back to lean on his shoulder as he pulls one thigh to open you up wider. 

You put up no fight, instead grinding down on him as you swirl your hips in time to the pads of his fingers circulating your dripping center. His lips reattach to your exposed neck, this time with more passion and it almost distracts you when his fingers dip inside of you, bucking once in his grip at the welcome intrusion. He’s gentle, only going as far as you let him, and the more he does it, the less you tense up, until he’s gliding in and out of you. 

You’re unable to stay quiet any longer, every breath letting out a moan that is a melody to Yoongi’s ears. 

“I…Yoongi, I think…I’ve never done this before, what’s happening?” you breathe out, and he chuckles darkly.

“Do you trust me?”

“I—”

“I promise it’ll feel good, okay? Trust me, and don’t fight it.”

“But—” his fingers don’t let up, and you squirm on his lap.

“Princess, be a good girl and trust me, don’t fight it—don’t fight me anymore.”

“O-okay, I trust you, Yoongi.”

Letting go, you relax into his hold as he resumes kissing your neck, left hand pulling your chin until your lips meet his in a sloppy sideways kiss. His foot presses against the inside of yours until you groan at the muscle strain. Your legs are so far apart, but it feels even better as his fingers begin a rapid thrusting. He swallows all of your whimpers as you feel your body reaching a peak and it all just feels so good, his free hand leaving your chin to touch your chest, hands roaming as you rock your hips to meet his palm against your sensitive nub and with a simultaneous bite to your bottom lip and pinch to your neglected nipple; you feel yourself combust. 

You swear you see fireworks behind your eyelids as you tremble in Yoongi’s arms, barely alert enough to hear him whispering words of praise as he works you through it. It’s not long (or has it been ages?) before your hands push at his, overstimulation causing you to mewl in frustration. 

It feels good and you don’t want to stop, but your body can’t take more. Not right now at least.

“That’s it, you did so well.”

“Me?” you question, voice raspy. “I didn’t even do anything but sit here.”

“Trust me, you did plenty. I think you can feel exactly what you did to me.” Yoongi alludes with a slight thrust of his hips, and you in fact do feel him.

“That’s because of me?”

“It’s all because of you. Your sounds, the way you were grinding onto me, the way you taste…” Yoongi slides his fingers into his mouth, sucking your essence from his two fingers lewdly. “You made me this way.”

Your face grows impossibly warmer at the thought of the power you have over a man such as he, and your ability to bring him to this level of vulnerability. 

“Does…does it always feel like that?” you question, wondering if it could possibly get better. 

Yoongi can barely contain his smirk, “Oh, dear wife, that was just the appetizer.”

    Lifting you off of his lap, he sets you down next to him so he can stand and shed himself of his clothing. Naked, he stands before you in all of his glory so you can take in just how well endowed the duke is before kneeling on one knee. 

“Can I take these off of you?” he asks, hands gesturing to your hips. You softly say yes, and once your ruined drawers are discarded, he then touches the sides of your corset. “And these?” Nodding, he leaves you in just your silk stockings. “I rather like how these look…”

Still kneeling, he takes your leg and leans you back until you’re sprawled on your back and he has a perfect view of your heated core. He kisses along your clothed leg until he reaches the skin of your thigh, biting lightly until he rests your leg on his shoulder. Turning to the other leg, he does the same, this time going all the way up. You throw your head back into the soft, satin sheets as your hands grip whatever they can. His tongue explores your sensitive area, lapping at your pearl until you’re incoherent, hands tugging at his long tresses to guide him where you want him.

There are no words to describe how Yoongi is making you feel. You’ve never felt this way before, so powerful or in control. You wonder if he’ll always be this willing to hand over the reins. Either way, you plan to savor it. 

The sounds coming from between your thighs are obscene, but the louder and sloppier Yoongi is, the better it feels. 

“Yoongi, oh!” Your toes curl as another wave of euphoria grips you. Tender kisses along your stomach just barely keep you from floating away as Yoongi brings himself higher and higher along your body. His teeth nip at your breasts, teasing as he laves his tongue around your nipples, perky against the air in the room. Chest heaving, you try to gather your wits as Yoongi’s naked body lays along yours, his hands on either side of your chest as he massages them, spending ample time tasting everything your body has to offer. 

“My lady, if you’re ready, I’d rather like to feel you.”

In your post climactic haze, you try and understand what he’s asking.

“Feel me?”

“Yes,” he says, kissing your neck and you don’t understand how your body can still crave for more just from his lips on your skin, “I rather ache for you, princess.” The meaning becomes clear when he adjusts himself over you, and you feel the thickness against your thigh. You are aware of what he needs, how he means to alleviate his ache, and for a moment, you’re scared.

It all fades away as he kisses you, his lips soft against yours as he soothes away the worry. 

“I’ll be gentle, I promise. If it hurts, just tell me to stop, okay?” he presses another kiss to your lips, and you melt.

“Okay,” you whisper as you pull away from the kiss, “I trust you.”

He smiles, this time a genuine one at your words before kissing you again. You feel yourself getting lost in it when a pressure at the apex of your thighs causes you to gasp. Breaking the kiss, you look between your body and Yoongi’s watching as his cock, flushed and rigid, breaches your core. He’s going slow, and he lowers himself back down to kiss you more, wanting to take your mind off of the pain as he fills you. 

“You’re…impossibly tight…” he pants, and you would laugh if you were in the mindset, but at the moment, you are all consumed by Yoongi. He pushes another inch, stopping to allow you to grow accustomed to him, and you know that this is unusual for a wedding night—you have heard the horror stories from other women, and this has been anything but. Yoongi has made sure to let you have ownership of your pleasure tonight, and even now, he looks to you for confirmation that he can continue on without hurting you.

Raising your hips, you help guide him in the rest of the way, and he grunts as his forehead touches yours. His arms shake as he holds himself above you, wanting to take you with haste, but knowing he must control himself for now.

Reaching for him, your palms settle on either side of his face, bringing him closer to kiss you as you roll your hips against him. He huffs, pulling out to give you a good, even stroke, and you nearly scream at the pleasure and pain of it. He apologizes against your lips, but you shake your head, urging for more. He complies, though slower this time, not wanting to scare you off from sharing his bed. Yoongi is so gentle, sweet even as he swivels his hips, and you move your hands to grip his hair and his shoulder, leveraging to meet him with every gyration of your lower body.

A few tugs to his hair leaves him cursing in gratification, and soon you feel his hand reach to your leg to lift. His thighs speed up as he thrusts haphazardly into you before you feel a hot release of his seed filling you and spilling out around his cock, now lazily unloading itself as he slows with each jolt. His release provides you with just what you need to follow him, walls clenching around him to milk the last drop.  

Sighing, the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, Yoongi’s fingers smoothing your hair as yours play along his chest, a feverish color now spread across his decolletage after your love making. 

“I’ve never experienced such a blissful feeling as this,” you admit. 

“Likewise, my lov—my lady.” Yoongi corrects a slight slip of the tongue. 

“It’s okay, I think I could quite like being called your love,” you tease, though your words ring true. You now know what you felt with Yoongi. Liberation. A freedom you have never felt as a woman, provided to you in the most surprising of places: the arms of a man.

At breakfast the next morning, Ellie can’t help but notice the way you seem to glow as you sit at your husband’s side. The two of you can’t stop touching, whether it be holding hands or light touches to each other's arm as you two talk with the others who stayed overnight. Being married may not have been what you had seen for yourself a week ago, but after last night, you have a feeling that you could fall deeply in love with your husband, the Duke, and he with you, his Duchess. 

“Marriage isn’t all that bad, is it, my love?” Yoongi whispers as the maids pass around the breakfast foods, and you shift your gaze to the marks you left barely hidden by his collar from an early morning romp. 

“No, my love, I rather find that you have proven me wrong, and I quite like that.”

“And I quite like you.”

“You had better!”

© hisunshiine 2023. All rights reserved. 

thank you for reading!!!

[simpforanyanimeguywithdarkhair]

BUT NOT ENOUGH 4

#Genre: Fluff, angst

#Includes: Whoever you wish, no character descriptors.

#Description: Period piece. King ML x Maid FL.

#WC: 2.1k

♛ Part 1 ♛ Part 2 ♛ Part 3 ♛ Part 4 (Final)

The following morning was hectic to say the least, your mind preoccupied with the events of last night and the Kings life altering words swam around your mind like the earth orbiting the sun, yet you hope to find an answer to the Kings question faster than it takes the earth to orbit said sun. You were in two minds, while nothing was keeping you tied to your Kingdom, leaving was easier said than done and you were unsure of what was detaining you here – was it the safety or the fear of the past repeating itself? You strongly believe King Isenad would not be a repeat of your king despite only knowing him for a short time but the way your heart beats for him cannot be overlooked and the feelings you hold for him outweigh the ones you ever held for your Kingdoms King.

However, you knew what would become of you if you did leave and you were unsure if you would ever be ready for that drastic of a responsibility. ‘Be mine’ he had said, and you knew what that entailed – you would become Isenads Queen, and this was and is something you are wholly unprepared for and the fear itself begs you to say no to the King. You were not born for this life like Queen Nearan was and you know you would not fall into that role as gracefully as she had once done. But alas you are selfish, you long for King Isenads heart, dreaming to possess it fully as he posses yours and you wonder if that love is enough to uproot your peaceful life to start a new one, one where you would hold imaginable power. Only time will tell.

°• ♔ •° 

King Isenad had not felt this at peace in a long time, the usual furrow in his eyebrows is smoothed out and his lips that used to be pressed in a fine line are now relaxed. Instead, they twitch up at the memory of last night, your bare form lying against his as your breathing syncs up to his is something he could very much get used to and he hopes by the end of today It will become a regular occurrence – but that is only if you agree to leave with him and for the first time in a while he prays to whatever gods are above that you deem him worthy enough to follow.

However, at this moment he stands in front of the Kings large oak doors that lead him to his office and he prepares himself for the inevitable fight that is sure to ensure once the words in his mind come forth. With a steady breath he raps his knuckles against the door and a voice from the other side welcomes him inside. “To what do I owe the pleasure, King Isenad? Have you changed your mind about your current stance on our alliance?” the smug smile on the Kings face as he questions King Isenad has him wanting to wipe it from his face and he is sure his next words will succeed in that, “I am preparing to leave your Kingdom your highness and it will not be with an alliance” the smirk drops from the Kings face as he studies Isenads expression but not one thing gives away the meaning of his words.

“You will have to forgive me because I do not understand the implications of your words” only then does he let a smile flit against his lips “I have happened to take a liking to the maid you assigned to me, I believe she will be coming with me”, the shock of his words has the King stilling in his chair before he bellows out an unconvinced laugh “you are a lot of things King Isenad but I did not take you for a jester” he says while wiping away imaginary tears. “That is because I am not jesting” all humour is stripped from the Kings face as he takes in the other Kings serious expression and dread weighs heavily on his chest “And what do you plan to do with her if she agrees to leave with you?”, the king ponders on this for a beat before firmly replying “I plan to make her my Queen” and there is no doubt in his tone.

It dawns on the King that you leaving is very much a possible outcome now and the tightness in his chest does not relent. While he may not have been with you, had you in his arms in the late of the night like he once used to, just being able to see you around the castle was satisfactory enough, it satiated the desire to be with you but with the prospect of you leaving, the hollowness that was once filled with your mere presence opens up and leaves a gaping hole in its wake. Grasping onto anything that could deter King Isenad from taking you, he snarls his response “Do you think your kingdom will accept her?”. The King cannot stop the cruel twist in his face as he hears those words, affronted from the accusation “My kingdom and my people will accept whatever I want them to, especially her” he spits. The King bristles at the double meaning behind Isenads words, now knowing without a doubt that he is aware of your previous relationship and the unpleasant way it had ended – the reason it had ended.

He could or rather would not have made you his bride, the fear of his people turning on him and the backlash he would have received not only from his family but from other Kingdoms. They would have seen him as weak, resulting in his current and potential alliances crumbling. He despises the fact that King Isenad does not require alliances to stay the strongest, court whispers have no affect on him and his ability to marry you without large consequences is yet another stab in his heart. King Isenad takes his silence as his answer “just because you were a coward and could not does not mean I will follow your same mistakes; you had your chance” and he has no rebuttal because he knows it is the truth yet he would rather take a sword to the heart than admit it.

“You do not love her” it is the last card he could pull and unfortunately it does not work in his favour, King Isenad stands taut with fists clenched at his side, the picture of your horrified face if you saw what he wanted to do to the King in front of him was his only life line that held him back and in a dangerously calm voice he spoke, “Do not try to tell me how I feel your highness because it will not end well. I suggest you pay more attention to your Queen and mind your tongue when it comes to mine”

°• ♔ •° 

You pace the gardens, searching for answers you do not have yet, but the orchids, pond and weeping willow trees also do not hold the answers you seek – only you do. You decide to take a break from your hurried strides on one of the benches, hoping that the clear sky can offer some insight into your decision but all it offers you is a pigeon that takes a break on a branch before soring off into the sky once again. Maybe that is your answer, you are but a bird that does not require being confined to one place your whole life, you deserve to stretch your wings and fly to wherever your heart desires instead of worrying about if your absence will have any affect. Before you can ponder on this for any longer a voice calls out behind you and your heart stills “Will you go with him?” you cannot see his face yet, but you can imagine his expression just from his tone and you hesitate to answer “I…I have not decided yet”.

You were unaware of the fact that King Isenad was going to make the King aware of his offer and you shudder to imagine the dispute that must have occurred considering that not only was he possibly leaving with the Kings staff but also without an alliance indefinitely. “Do you have no loyalty to your kingdom?” and only then does your head snap back to look at him, reeling at the audacity of his words “loyalty” you scoffed “you dare question me about loyalty”. He clenched his jaw, knowing he was in no place to question you on that, but he could not shake off the unsettled feeling that was consuming him “I am worried”, a mirthless smile settled on your face “that is no longer any of your concern your highness, it has not been for a while” and with that you stood from the bench and with a bow made your way inside in search of a certain King, ignoring the shouts of your name that came from behind you.

-

You hesitate at the threshold of the Kings chamber, building up the courage to knock but before you can the door swings open and startled you jump back. The King looks at you with pleasant confusion “I apologise for startling you my lady, I was just on my way to see you”, “then I guess I saved your highness some time” you smiled which was met with his own. “Would you like to come in?” he asked after a pause, not wanting to cross your boundaries despite you laying in his bed bare the previous night “that would be most appreciated”, you wanted to have this conversation away from prying ears and eyes. The king sat on a chair beside his bed as his eyes tracked your every move and he patiently waited for you to gather your thoughts before you spoke, “I have been thinking about your proposal… and I have come to a decision” you rush out. Despite your quick tone he did not miss a single syllable and suddenly sat straighter, heart thumping and hands trembling in wait of your answer “and what would that be?” his calm tone gave way to a slight tremble, and you quickly put him out of his misery “I would like to come with you”.

Eyes alight, he jumped out of his chair and before he reached you asked “truly?” with a hint of disbelieve, with a brief chuckle you excitedly nod your head while making your way to him, throwing your arms around his neck as you bury yourself into his shoulder and let his scent overtake you. He wasted no time in wrapping his own arms around your waist as he lifts you off the ground and spins you, revelling in the laugh that shakes his whole being, “I had hoped…dreamed of your answer but never let myself believe it, too afraid of the disappointment that would consume me if you were to answer no” he admits.

“You will never have to imagine the disappointment as my answer is yes and will always be yes to you my King” your comforting voice washes over him and it sounds so much like home, “I have so much I want to show you, places I want to take you to and memories to create with you my love”, “and I will impatiently wait for those days” you whisper before drawing your lips to his and he matches your passion with his own, letting his tongue invade your mouth and letting out a content sigh at the contact before he reluctantly draws back with a final peck “we have much packing to do”.

-

Three Years Later

Strong arms wrap themselves around your waist as you gaze into the gardens below your balcony, “the orchids are starting to bloom” “that they are” he whispers against your neck. “But what has my Queen distracted this fine morning?” he questions. His hands make their way to your stomach before he drops to his knees in front of you and places a slow peck to your protruding tummy “I am guessing it is this little scoundrel” he looks up at you, gaze full of adoration and warmth. “He has been kicking a lot more these past few days”, “mmh, he’s going to be a fighter” he states proudly, and you stifle a laugh while responding “like his father then” “and mother” he adds while smiling up at you. You stroke his cheek with gentle fingers, drawing him up to his full height where you place your lips against his, and you think every touch of his lips against yours feels the first.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

Note: it’s finally complete !!! I loved writing this series and hope you guys enjoyed their journey and well deserved ending 🤍

;)

🏷️:@adreamofleftoveromens @tirzamisu @bogbiddiesworld @pshwaa  @crystal-lilac @princessatoru @milk-and-cherryjuice @itsmeteiiteii @the-massive-simp @momoewn @euryale16 @mitzwinchester @0ni0m @1-800-mocha @a-book-lover-things @wolffmaiden @warrior-of-justice @atlaincorrect @dee-zbignuts ༺♡༻

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[ryahtargaryen]

A GUIDE TO HOTD OCVERSE

🌿 — what is hotd ocv?

the hotd ocv is an alternate universe / non-canonical timeline that centers around ryah and calla targaryen. created by @ryahtargaryen and @callastargaryen , the hotd ocv changes the events within both fire & blood / hotd by adding in new characters, changing major plot points, and reimagining characters and their relationships with each other. it creates a storyline that can be summed up to: “what if the events that led to the dance of dragons never happened…”

🪷 — oc introduction

on 6/3/109 AC, princess rhaenyra and prince daemon targaryen welcomed their first babies to the world— twin girls they named ryah and calla. their birth was a surprise, for rhaenyra and daemon had only expected one baby. alas, there were two— and they came with haste into the world.

on the day of their birth, ryah and calla were deemed “the two headed dragon” by their father not only because they were targaryen twins, but because the egg he had picked months prior to catch in the cradle alongside his child hatched not only one but two dragons: rhaegal and snowfyre. daemon declared it to be fate. his girls were the magic of old valyria in the flesh.

princess ryah targaryen, the elder twin, had been born with the destiny to one day inherit the targaryen dynasty and rule the seven kingdoms. being the firstborn daughter of the heir to the iron throne, rhaenyra targaryen, ryah was her mother’s heir. bred for fire and blood, princess ryah was raised to rule. she was a fierce dragon-rider. a brilliant scholar. a skilled swordswoman. a savvy politician. a level-headed thinker. an unabashed rule follower. most of all, she is a gentle heart. she will one day make a fine queen with her loyal, devoted husband — prince aemond — and their smart, well-mannered children — daenerys, rhaen, and annika — by her side.

princess calla targaryen, the younger twin, was born with a warmth never before known. she was the sun shining through the — often described — cold red keep. whilst her sister studied and trained, she was content to needlepoint and draw. she showed little to no interest in the formal duties her name inherited. she sat often in the sept, praying to the mother and the maiden primarily. she knew nothing of politics and maths, only knowing flowers and high valyrian hymns. it is only through love and marriage calla accepts a grand title. lady wife to her lord husband, aegon, calla is content on her sheep farm. her days are full of time spent with her husband, their children, and her partner clarisse.

🌻— hotd overse timeline and events

all the ��canon” events that take place in the hotd ocv can be found posted here in order.

🪴— the targaryen family in four parts

part one: the immediate family

part two: the extended family— version green

part three: the extended family— version blue

part four: the next generation

🌱— romantic pairings

one of the biggest changes from canon (oc characters aside) are the romantic pairings. below are the (most significant) listed couples:

• ryah and aemond (ryaemond)

• calla and aegon (callaegon)

• jace and helaena (jacelaena)

• caeserys and evelyn (caevelyn)

• baela and daeron (baeron)

• lucerys and rhaena (luclaena)

• daenerys and arra (darra)

• baelon and annika (annaelon)

• rhaenyra and daemon (daemyra)

• laena and carter (carlaena)

🥀 — major canon changes

because hotd ocverse is built upon the idea that the dance of the dragons and downfall of house targaryen does not happen, there has been many hours spent piecing together a consistent canon that leads to peace. the timeline details when and what happens, but this section highlights the why’s and how’s of the major canon changes.

• rhaenyra marries daemon.

with rhaenyra married to daemon, she gives birth to no bastards. her bloodline cannot be challenged. jace and luke have been changed in the canon of hotd ocv so that they are rhaenyra and daemon’s true-born sons born after ryah and calla. daemon and rhaenyra have three more sons: caeserys (joffery replacement) and a set of male twins, aerion and aelon (aegon iii and viserys ii replacements)

• betrothed as children.

to decrease discourse and silence anyone who dare think to plot against rhaenyra’s ascension, rhaenyra, daemon, alicent, and viserys betroth their three eldest children to each other. (note: not married as children. betrothed.)

prince aegon, the first-born son of the king, is promised to princess calla, the second-born daughter of the future queen, to ensure the crown never touches his head. any challenge aegon poses by simply breathing is lessened. it eliminates potential usurpation. raised to craft and chat, aegon and calla were a complimentary pair. it added to the already massive political benefit.

princess ryah, the first-born daughter and heir to the future queen, is promised to prince aemond, the second-born son of the king. ensuring a son of the king still sits the small council, prince aemond’s betrothal to princess ryah is a smart political move. aemond himself had little to no claim to the throne being — at the time — as far back as 10th in line in the line of succession, if not further. if usurpation were to arise, it would not have been aemond who is raised up against rhaenyra. it is his little claim to the throne that makes him a fine pick for princess ryah— as well as the history between them on the day he lost his eye.

prince jacaerys and princess helaena are promised on the agreement that they will inherit dragonstone. with varying opinions on who deserves to inherit what, it is one more sure way to see that each side of the argument gets both. hightower-targaryen blood not only sits the throne together through ryah and aemond, but it inherits old town through aegon and calla (unbeknownst to them at the time) as well as dragonstone through jace and helaena.

every major seat that can be filled and major role that can be assumed is claimed by targ-tower blood.

• laena velaryon the lady of driftmark

when her brother laenor flees to live freely with his lover in essos, laena velaryon becomes lady of driftmark. she is happily married to carter stark and they have twins, baela and rhaena.

• aegon inheriting old town

hobert hightower had no sons. he had two daughters that he had had not named his heir’s. when he fell ill and later died, his titles passed to his brother, otto. otto leaves king’s landing — and his position as hand — to assume his role as lord of old town. he names his son, ser gwayne hightower, his heir. when ser gwayne passes away unexpectedly of a burst belly, otto hightower names aegon targaryen his heir. despite never having a desire for any kind of power, aegon accepts this responsibility and moves with his wife, calla, onto a farm in old town where they live contently as lord and lady when otto eventually passed away.

• the dragon-like dragon-lords

a family rich with blood magic passed down from before the doom, the dragon-lords of house targaryen are eerily similar to their fire-breathing counterparts. in the way they walk, in the way their eyes gleam, in the way they talk, in the way they react. if dragon’s are seen as gods, targaryen’s have to then be something divine, too, for targaryen is a dragon in human skin. and that is why it is their house that sits the iron throne.

• the targaryen bond

targaryens bond romantically with each other as dragons do. they mate for life. whether it clicks instantly or is a bond developed over time, targaryens are drawn to each other like flames and will burn together until their flames burn out. binding their blood through marriage is tradition born from the desire to be whole. wholeness for the dragon-born can only be found in their targaryen counterpart. a silver-haired soulmate born of the same fire and blood.

within hotd ocverse, targaryen parents imprint on their children. in a family that infamously marries brothers to sisters, uncles to nieces, and cousins to cousins, the bond between a targaryen parent and their child is the only true, pure, familial bond there is due to the fact that they imprint on their children.

• the loss of aemond’s eye

the day aemond targaryen had been born, a green egg was placed beside him. when it hatched, a vibrant green dragon was his for the claiming once he was of age. cyprus, he named it. his green monster. cyprus was a known trouble-marker in the dragon pit. green dragons had bitter temperaments and cyprus was no exception. at 10 years old, aemond targaryen was allowed to claim his dragon.

all it took was one second. only for one second, aemond had let his guard down. that was all the time cyprus needed to lash out as the chain around his neck annoyed him too greatly. if aemond had been standing any closer, perhaps his face would been torn off. the gods must’ve been watching out for him. he was just far enough that only one of cyprus’ razor sharp claws wounded him.

he had claimed his dragon.

but his dragon had claimed his eye.

• hand of the king

when otto returned to old town, lyonel strong assumed the position for a short period of time. viserys wished to make daemon his hand, but daemon was busy tending to his army of children and running the city watch. once the kids were a bit older and the stress of terrible twos after terrible twos lessened, he assumed the role of hand of the king. lyonel went returned back to harrenhall and ser harwin strong took over commanding the city watch.

• the hand(s) of the queen

when rhaenyra was crowned queen, she named rhaenys targaryen her hand. together, they were a steadfast duo for many years. when rhaenys passed away, rhaenyra then named alicent hightower to be hand of the queen. alicent accepted gratefully and advised rhaenyra through the rest of her reign faithfully.

i am pretty sure that wraps up everything that can be detailed :) hope you guys enjoyed our fun little take on hotd. drop any questions you have! thanks for reading xxx

[columbiauniversity-schoolboard]

Welcome to Columbia University's School board (Historical RP)

Here you will be able to see reports and updates on the ongoings at New York City's Columbia University; such as...

The newest arrivals — wether student or teacher.

Planned events — field trips, projects in classes, recesses, notifications from professors, Etc.

Announcements — a new class, a new sport, celebrations, Etc.

♚ 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 / 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 ♚

✒ – Professors and staff at Columbia are permitted to send in what they would like notified on the board; such as project announcements, petitions to be signed, alerts for scheduling alterations, and much else. This will allow for students to more easily check in and see what will come.

✑ – Students must message the board staff (DM privately) with an explanation before submitting any announcements, such as new founded clubs and much else, just to keep things in order.

✉ – If staff or students are struggling with any questions in regards to the system of the school or even the system of this board, do not hesitate to submit an ask and/or a (OOC) message that entails their query. Though not always the most speedy of responses, rest assured, we will get back to you with an answer when the time arises.

♔ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ♔

#submissions : submissions sent in through our inbox.

#announcements : notifying for events to come.

#reports : status updates on events, staff, classes, schedules, Etc.

#academic calendar : schedule reports for classes and the school.

#questions and answers : our helping services to answer any questions you may have regarding the bulletin board or school system in general.

#new arrivals : new students, professors, or staff announcement.

#MUN club : news regarding Columbia's Model United Nations club.

#(HFTNR) — Hotel For The Newly Resurrected : partnered events regrading the hotel and university.

#schedules : the schedules of the students and professors for the semester.

♔ 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ♔

• Summer Semester of 2024

• Fall Semester of 2024

✏ 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ✏

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

• @coribennett : [Sophomore year, Criminology.]

• @the-pastinthefuture : [Sophomore year, Paleontology.]

• @alexis-fontenay : [Sophomore year, Medical studies.]

• @its-scottangelo : [Sophomore year, Medical studies.]

• @cicero-defacto : [Sophomore year, History.]

• @cassyourheartout : [Sophomore year, Political science.]

• @the-archduke : [Sophomore year, Diplomacy.]

• @celiaserene : [Sophomore year, Mechanical engineering.]

• @lucifers-box : [Sophomore year, English.]

• @grandinrag : [Sophomore year, Education.]

• @sir-percival-of-glastonbury : [Sophomore year, Culinary Arts.]

• @osoipoiitailegousin : [Sophomore year, Fine Arts Creative writing.]

• @last-grand-duchess-of-russia : [Non-Matriculated student, drama.]

• @animae-dimidium-meae : [Sophomore year, NCAA Wrestling D1.]

• @juliasromeo : [Sophomore year, Paramedicine Studies]

• @foreveryour-remus : [Freshman year, Art History.]

• @local-child-prodigy : [Double doctorate student, Mathematical Physics.]

• @tiger-of-the-lychee : [Freshman year, Philosophy.]

𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐀 / 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

• @hikikomori1932 : [Senior Highschool year, Science Honors Program]

• @alice-roosevelt : [Freshman year, Law and Women's Studies.]

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒

{ OOC NOTE: not all students attend the existing classes regardless if their major requires it or not, there are implied classes that exist in the RP setting even without a character serving as a teacher. And there can be students seeing to different teachers even with the same class, regardless if they are an existing character. }

• @mostlyyourlysander : [Social Sciences.]

• @tubacanmatiascontilde : [Linguistics + medieval studies.]

• @prof-jadranko : [Advanced inorganic chemistry + biochemistry.]

• @chef-de-cuisine : [Culinary arts.]

• @daishisensei : [Music.]

• @bioonewithnature : [Biotechnology + biology.]

• @explorinaireoftheseas : [Art History.]

• @andrew-perkins : [Theatre.]

• @marquis-de-chastellux : [Philosophy.]

• @lost--to--time : [Anthropology + cultural studies.]

• @littlelion-man : [Law.]

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐅𝐅

• @lucifers-box : [School librarian.]

• @the-oracle-at-delphi : [Assistant counselor.]

• @sincerely-edevane : [Prof. Valerian's Teacher Assistant.]

• @aideu-osha : [Nursing assistant.]

𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐁𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐒

• @deatharchivos : [Inter data manager.

• @juliasromeo : [Assistant nurse at Columbia.]

• Columbia’s Model United Nations (MUN) Club, run by @lucifers-box. Entrance paper here.

• Columbia's Fencing Club, run by @yr-mademoiselle-maupin.

• Columbia's Naginata Club, run by @toranomaki.

!OOC DISCLAIMER! This strictly follows for the History Resurrection!RP, while events and schedules may align with the real university, this still has no real affiliation with the actual college or real people associated with it. Additionally, not everything will follow precisely to the real Columbia's schedule. It is really up to a majority of mods liberty and what is most convenient, but events and dates may not always align with the real university.

We try our best to be inclusive and accommodating for all roleplayers, anyone is allowed to drop in with a DM and ask to join; unless you have proven to be a discomfort to the space and mods around, then it is not guaranteed. Please respect everyone's boundaries and enjoy. Thank you.

[quillheel]

// remind me to write some metas abt Loki tomorrow but in the meantime, i rewatched Thor. the most meta-y bits from me liveblogging it

[belacedia]

tag drop

*.゜♕ ┆ ❛ out of character.

*.゜♕ ┆ ❛ in character.

*.゜♕ ┆ ❛ memes ﹠ prompts.

*.゜♕ ┆ ❛ dash game.

*.゜♕ ┆ ❛ signal boost.

*.゜♛ ┆ ❛ act i ：❪ ﹠ present day. ❫

*.゜♛ ┆ ❛ act ii ：❪ ﹠ ten years later. ❫

*.゜♔ ┆ ❛ study i ：❪ ﹠ headcanon. ❫

*.゜♔ ┆ ❛ study ii ：❪ ﹠ visage. ❫

*.゜♔ ┆ ❛ study iii ：❪ ﹠ musing. ❫

*.゜♔ ┆ ❛ study iv ：❪ ﹠ aesthetic. ❫

[russetwolf]

multiples of 4 for the headcanon meme

          ♔   ||   H E A D C A N O N   M E M E   ||   accepting

Send me some numbers and a character name and I will tell you:

4. What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

Genuinely, I think he'd order in or call someone and be like, "Hey let's go grab dinner somewhere." If he has something in the fridge that desperately had to be used up that day, he'd just wait a bit, or see if he can work around whoever's keeping the kitchen busy.

8. Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Robb isn't someone to over-indulge easily, he's honestly too responsible for that. But for that reason he's also not feeling guilty when he does indulge in something, like big dinners or an evening with too many sweets or whatever else.

12. Favorite book genre?

He really likes thrillers, especially with a hint or twist of the supernatural.

16. Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

I think Smart Casual is the term, with clear nordic influences. I don't think he has rituals as such, but when he knows he won't have a lot of time in the morning, you might catch him putting out an outfit the night before going to bed so he doesn't have to think about it in the morning.

20. Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

Without going into too much detail... he likes having his hair pulled. He likes reciprocity. He's a real switch, so quite flexible around adapting to the atmosphere. Lack of respect or equality isn't for him, so anything degrading even in mild forms isn't his cup of tea. Those are the first things that come to mind - I'm sure there are lots more if I give it more thought.

24. How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

That's super dependent on where when now is. Since I've used modern verse Robb as basis for the questions so far, it's probably having finished his studies, having found a good job that he enjoys, preferably a stable, fun and loving partnership, with regular visits to his family members. Quite plain, maybe - he doesn't need anything flashy or big, he's too grounded and just seeks happiness for himself and those he loves.

28. Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

He's super good about thinking on his feet, and a very responsible guy on top of that. One of the first things would always be making sure his loved ones are okay, and, depending on what the disaster is, calling in help, like firefighters. To stay with the example above, if there's a fire extinguisher, he'd go for that, try to put out the fire, or help someone else if it's not entirely hopeless, even while putting himself in danger.

32. Concept of home and family?

Coming from a big, vibrant, happy family, that's his concept of it. Warmth and just and togetherness, fun and teasing and fighting but, in the end, always sticking up for each other. The pack survives, after all.

36. Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?

Robb is a very analytical person - unless people he loves are involved. That often throws a bit of his analysis of a situation out of the window and can trip him up. He's also better about analysing situations and data than people and their motives.

40. How misanthropic (disliking of humankind) are they?

Not very, to be honest. He likes people, likes being around people most of the time, is charismatic and has an easy time with people.

44. Superstitions or views on the occult?

He's not a very superstitious person. He won't say with absolute certainty that the occult is out of the realm of possibilty, but he doesn't particularly believe in it until he experiences it.

48. If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

Super quick on his feet and in his mind, deceptively so considering he's a relatively tall, not super slender guy. Reflexes and brains over brawns, but he could pack a mean punch.

[insufferablygood]

       ❛    INSUFFERABLYGOOD   ❜     //  𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 : both a good man & a good ruler, kind and just and handsome and clever. it was as if he’d stepped out of a fairytale.

AN INDEPENDENT & SELECTIVE original character. ――  roman lockridge : crafted & adapted from an original story : an ever shifting work in progress ――   a study in : heavy is the head that wears the crown, duty & honor, the punctuality of princes

created MARCH 2021  &. moved NOV 2022.  //  crowned by katie : 25+ : she/her. SIDEBLOG to @starsspin   //   AFFILIATED WITH: @kenobiian   

┊┊⋆˚ *♔‧₊˚    RULES ;  ABOUT ; STARTER CALL

story integrated with: @wornkindness  &.  @heartcarried​ :

tags: general  :  about. :  edits. :  musings  :  isms. :  aesthetics : memes other links:  edits sideblog :  aesthetic sideblog  :   

[vampyrasa]

here you can find a few notes regarding my portrayal of  𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃  𝙳𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚄𝙻𝙰  that i consider to be especially important. these may be what are most overlooked or forgotten in threads, or just things that i personally think are important to differentiate him from the canon that currently exists.   do not reblog this or i will physically explode.

        my portrayal is not vl*d the impaler.  this decision came after months of speaking to romanian and hungarian writers in and outside of the rp community who expressed incredibly displeasure toward the books, movies and other media that consistently portray a folk hero as an evil and malevolent vampire.  while my count does still take the titular name (which can be read about here), he is not at all related to the historic figure. he is not a prince, he was never voivode, and is originally from (and rules) in transylvania, was adopted, etc.  his crown/throne as boyar is illegitimate and was won through despotism. at most, he would have been a lord or very possibly a vicomte before his parent’s death.

        my portrayal does not like being called ‘’vlad’’. this dimunitive is his least favorite, despite it being used by comrades and friends for well over a decade. he has always been fond of his full name, vladislav (rather than the hungarian form, vladislaus), and what few dimunitives were used by members of his immediate family; vladik, volodya (volodislava) and the most common: vadya. 

        while bram stoker decided to ignore the russian and greek folklore that involved vampires being unable to go into sunlight, i have adopted it.  i’m very fond of the idea of them being averse to light and photosensitive. he will be burned if he steps into sunlight, especially during the summer months - this can be negated if he wears protective coverings, but he will lose most of his powers during the daytime as book canon decrees. 

          his castle is located directly on the border between transylvania and bucovina, hidden in the mountainous forests to the southeast of the borgo pass. this was not the castle he grew up in, but rather the place of his exile when his vampiric resurrection came to light. hence why it received the name castle dracula rather than the castle where his parents raised him near alba iulia.  before modern day, it appears that everyone in and around bistritz knows that he is a vampire. it’s not a secret until around the 1920s and beyond. 

          this character is both intensely manipulative and seductive.  he will come off as flirtatious if only to charm his way into your character’s good graces. his intentions are always bad.  usually to get a willing blood donor, or to kill the character in question - do not forget that he is a villain.  that said, i am not averse to him gaining actual friendships and/or romantic relationships.  i greatly enjoy when two characters click despite his atrocious personality.

         my portrayal of the count is a cold, malevolent and irredeemable villain. you will never, ever find me writing a redemption arc on this blog. despite me liking him as a character, i will always recognize the awful shit he’s done. from human extinction as a primary goal to his aggressive spread of vampirism, these are and will always be frequent topics concerning his behavior. i recognize that he has had a terrible life, but i also recognize that he is taking that fact out on the literal whole population of humanity. 

         he is incredibly strong.  he also possesses the ‘usual’ vampiric powers.  increased speed (though not to s. meyer’s extent), prodigious strength,  panther-like reflexes (book-canon) and the ability to turn into a bat at will. this portrayal will also acknowledge his lycanthropy, which allows him to transform at will into a hulking black wolf- and his ability to turn to mist to travel through small spaces.  that said, his weaknesses are also greatly acknowledged here. roses, silver of any kind, religious items (they do not hurt him, but calm him, see below...) wooden stakes, sunlight, etc. 

         my portrayal is not hurt by symbols of christianity, nor is the count a catholic.  he was originally raised in the know of the secret solomonari beliefs, worshipping zalmoxis as the dacians once did. it wasn’t until he entered his early teen years that his family converted to eastern orthodoxy. specifically hungarian eastern orthodoxy whilst continuing to practice their pagan beliefs and traditions in secret.  that said, he has a very strained relationship with God and Christ, being that he has actually been to hell. 

       the count has been alive for nearly 1,600 years.  his ‘physical’ birth date is 1432, but whilst in hell (mentioned above) time did not progress. he spent a little over one thousand years in the pits of hell being tortured for the sins he committed in the many battles across eastern europe.  he was assassinated after being pardoned for heresy on orthodox easter day of 1466. 

       my portrayal created vampires through this means. of course, when i say ‘vampire’ i mean the eastern european variety we see portrayed in a lot of media- moroi, strigoi, stryzga, verdilak, the ones clearly inspired by dracula.  he drank the blood of the devil when he sold his soul, thus creating what he is- and the beginning of ‘bloodletting’ that can turn one into a vampire. while trapped in stasis-hell enduring torture for a thousand years, the demons who fed off of him transferred this blood from their other victims, creating and spreading these vampires as far back as 3000 years prior to the common era.  in this way, he is sort of like the adam to (slavonic) vampire kind.  he has ever been a mythological figure.  and most people - and possibly even vampires - likely believe he is just a book figure or a media joke that does not exist.  but they know of him.  he is just as much a legendary figure as baba yaga, dimna juda or koschei the deathless.

       mina is not his reincarnated wife.  he was married to the duchess yelizaveta of volhynia.  i will never go that route. not only is it disrespectful to both women, it’s a notorious cop out of the wrongs committed by the count in the book, as well as his psychic link to mina murray- i do believe this could be written out in very interesting and thought-provoking ways, and i am not against shipping the two with extreme care and plotting beforehand.   along with this, my portrayal does not link vampirism and sex and never will, especially given that one of the adjacent female characters exclusively feeds on children throughout the book. while he and his partners may enjoy vampirism during sex, it is still just a means to feed and occasionally to infect.

      lastly  -  the count is a solomonari.  he was trained for seven years to utilize sorcerery and perform great feats of magick using king solomon’s knowledge. he also has ties to dragons known as balauri or zmei- each that have three fire-breathing heads.  

[belacedia-a]

Although it tends to surprise many people who learn of the fact, Bel is a very artistic - inclined person by nature. He enjoys sculpting, playing his violin, and dancing. He also has good rhythm and musical sense, so he can sing very well too. Sometimes he will even compose his own pieces for the violin. If he is not culling the local hitman population, he enjoys many different forms of art, both appreciating and creating it.

[defendrelor]

HOW DOES YOUR STORY END?

frightened, alone.

you are not ready to go. you plead, and cry, but the reaper will not hear you.

tagged by: @korolnichevoya

tagging: @braveandunbreakable