#Or mehmed the conqueror

[bretwalda-lamnguin]

Geoffrey of Monmouth is so funny. He's a proud Briton, and that comes through in his portrayal of the Anglo-Saxons. But the Anglo-Saxons get to be cool villians, they're cruel and cunning, but can be brave and do sometimes win battles.

This is in stark contrast to the Romans. I don't think he ever lets the Romans win a battle over the Britons. They show up in Britain, immediately get absolutely slaughtered and then somehow end up in control over the island anyway with no explanation. This happens about three or four times.

I cannot get over how funny this is. He was around in the 12th century. The Roman empire still existed then, but post Manzikert they were hardly doing much to threaten Wales. Where the hell did he get this hatred from?

[gulnarsultan]

can you make yandere vlad the impaler x yandere platonic father mehmed the second x daughter reader pleaseee???

Hello dear. I hope you like it.

》 Scenario《

You were Mehmed's first child and only daughter. He was so happy when you were born. Years passed, you grew up and your father didn't want to share you with the others. For example, when you were five, he exiled your mother from the Palace. You cried and were sad a lot. But your father was there to comfort you. He didn't let you get too close to your step-siblings. Your life was exactly like Rapunzel's life.

Now you were a young and beautiful girl. Mehmed was turning down all his suitors. He found faults in all his suitors. There was a party in the palace. One of the guests invited to the party secretly drew your portrait. Later, she drew a few more of these portraits. Your portraits were sold for a large sum of money. One of your portraits fell into the hands of Vlad the Impaler. He couldn't remember ever being so in love with a woman in his life. He immediately investigates who you are and learns that you are the daughter of the Ottoman emperor he refuses to bow down to. He sends ambassadors to the Ottomans without wasting any time. Your father does not accept Vlad's request to marry you. This causes Vlad to become angry and swear to take you as his wife. When you hear that Vlad wants to marry you, you are very scared and worried. Although you are tired of your father imprisoning you as if you were a prisoner, you would never want to marry a man like Vlad. In a short time, preparations are made for war and war begins between the two countries. Your father Sultan Mehmed, wins this war. Vlad is executed.

What if Vlad had managed to kidnap you despite losing? (Just one of many possibilities.🤗)

[coffeewithcutcaffeine]

— a pursuer of knowledge stubborn of purpose, bold in all things. (MEHMED THE CONQUEROR | VOIEVOD)

Coldplay, Viva la Vida // Elisabeth Hewer, Wishing for Birds // Donna Tartt, The Secret History // Musnad Ahmad ibn Hanbal, Hadith 18189 // @madzieloss, oh darling, even rome fell

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi !yandere, can I have a love letter for Alexander the Great and Sultan Mehmet the Conqueror (a reader who ran away to his family)

Alexander the Great

My love,

I write these words with a heavy heart and a burning soul, because since the moment you left, my life has become an unbearable void. Each night, I lie in my bed, looking at the space you once occupied, smelling the soft scent of your hair that still lingers in my memory.

It is undeniable that in my quest to conquer distant lands and achieve eternal glory, I have lost myself in my own desire for power and greatness. I realize now that I neglected what mattered most: you, the sun that lit up my world.

I understand that you ran away from me, perhaps rightly so, to find security and peace. However, I can't help but implore you to consider returning. I'm willing to give up everything I've built, all the lands I've conquered, just to feel your warmth one more time.

I promise that I will be a better man, that I will treasure our moments together as precious treasures, and that I will protect you with all my might. My beloved, my heart belongs to you and no one else, and I will never allow anyone to separate us again.

Please think about it, as my existence without you is empty and meaningless. My sweetheart, I love you more than life itself and would do anything to have you back.

With eternal love and longing,

Alexander.

Mehmed the Conqueror

My beloved,

I write this letter with a dark mind and a heart filled with torment, for since you fled, my soul has been condemned to endless darkness. I remember the nights when your smile lit up my world and your presence filled my being with joy. Now, I am consumed by the absence you left behind.

I have committed terrible acts in my pursuit of conquest, but know that they were all motivated by an unhealthy desire to protect you, to keep you safe from any danger that might come your way. My beloved, you don't understand how much I love you and what I am capable of doing to have you back in my arms.

I understand that you ran away from me in search of freedom and security, but, my love, the world outside is dangerous and full of threats. I am willing to destroy any obstacle that stands in our way, to tear the world apart to find you and bring you back to me.

I can't live without you, my beloved. My heart belongs to you, and only you. I swear that I will be better, that I will do whatever is necessary to deserve your presence in my life. No matter where you are hiding, I will find you.

Please consider returning willingly, my beloved. I love you more than life itself, and our union is the only way to my redemption. Without you, I'm just an empty shadow, and my love for you is so deep that the mere thought of living without you is unbearable.

With the deepest love,

Mehmed.

[baebeylik]

Mehmed II. Son of Murad II. Conqueror of the East Romans. He dreamed of expanding his empire as far west as Alexander the Great had expanded east.

Credit to @prince-aemond-targaryen for creating this board for me

[l-breeze]

[magnificentlyreused]

This pinkish dress with golden embroidery was first worn by Kösem Sultan in the eighth episode of the first season of Magnificent Century: Kösem.

The dress was worn again by Esleme Hatun in the fourth episode of Mehmed The Conqueror.

[homerstroystory]

Ottoman armored Kaftan belonging to Mehmed the Conqueror (r. 1451-1481 CE), second half of the 15th century

On display at Topkapı Palace (İstanbul, Türkiye)

[gerlionrise]

Tongues of Conquest

Pairing: Mehmed ii x servant!tutor!reader Synopsis: When the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire seeks mastery of the Italian tongue, he enlists an unlikely tutor—a young servant fluent in ten languages. Their lessons begin as mere diplomacy, but amidst the exchange of words, unspoken feelings surface. In a world where loyalty and ambition intertwine, will language become a bridge between hearts or a barrier to truth?   Tags: Slow Burn, Forbidden Romance, Jealousy, Historical Fiction, Tutor/Student? Dynamics, Mutual Pining, Ottoman Empire

The conquest of Constantinople had marked the dawn of a new empire. Sultan Mehmed II, now the conqueror of two worlds, found himself in need of a new skill—mastery of the Italian tongue. His ambitions stretched far beyond the Bosporus, and to communicate with the Italian envoys, traders, and rulers of Rome, he required someone both capable and discreet.  

That someone, improbably, was you.  

Your origins were humble, a servant captured during the siege of the city. But your gift for languages had not gone unnoticed. Within weeks, whispers of the girl who spoke in ten tongues reached the Sultan’s court, and soon after, you were brought to him.  

---

The first time you saw Mehmed, he stood with the weight of an empire on his shoulders. His presence was magnetic, his dark eyes sharp with intelligence and scrutiny.  

"You are the one they speak of," he said, his voice smooth but commanding.  

You bowed low, keeping your eyes on the marble floor. “Yes, my Sultan.”  

He studied you, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. “Italian is what I require. I trust you can teach me?”  

“Yes, my Sultan.”  

"Good," he said simply, dismissing the room with a wave of his hand. "We begin tomorrow."  

---

The lessons began in a grand library adorned with ornate carvings and shelves stacked with books in languages you could only dream of reading. Mehmed sat opposite you, his posture rigid, his gaze focused.  

Your relationship was formal. He was your Sultan, and you were his servant. You corrected his pronunciation, guided him through verb conjugations, and drilled him on vocabulary. He was a quick learner, his mind as sharp as his sword.  

“You speak Italian like a Roman,” he remarked one day, his tone almost playful.  

You smiled faintly, uncertain of how to respond. “I’ve studied it for many years.”  

“And yet you ended up here,” he said, his voice soft but probing.  

You hesitated. “Fate has curious designs, my Sultan.”  

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary before he nodded, the conversation ending as abruptly as it began.  

---

It was during one of these lessons that the first spark ignited. Mehmed stumbled over a particularly complex sentence, and you couldn’t suppress a quiet laugh.  

His brow arched. “You find this amusing?”  

“My Sultan, even you cannot conquer grammar as swiftly as you conquered Constantinople.”  

For a moment, there was silence, and then a soft chuckle escaped him. It was the first time you’d heard him laugh, and the sound warmed something deep within you.  

“I suppose even I must have my limits,” he said, his voice lighter than usual.  

From that day, a subtle shift occurred. He began to ask you questions—not about Italian, but about yourself. Where had you learned so many languages? Did you miss your homeland?  

You answered carefully, always aware of the line between servant and sovereign. But with each conversation, the line seemed to blur.  

---

It was a quiet afternoon in the grand library. The sunlight filtered through the tall windows, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air. You sat across from Mehmed, a thick tome of Italian grammar open between you. He was focused on his writing, his brows furrowed as he attempted to conjugate verbs in a letter he was drafting.  

Out of nowhere, he looked up and asked, “How would one say ‘beautiful’ in Italian?”  

You blinked, caught off guard. “Bello or bella, my Sultan.”  

“And... ‘love’?”  

You hesitated, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “Amore.”  

He nodded slowly, repeating the words under his breath, as if tasting them. “Bella. Amore.”  

“What do you need these words for, my Sultan?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.  

He smirked faintly, leaning back in his chair. “Perhaps I will use them one day for some beautiful Italian lady.”  

Your heart tightened at his words, though you masked it behind a polite smile. “I see,” you said simply, turning your focus back to the book.  

But the thought lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind. You knew it was foolish, but the idea of him using those words for someone else stirred a flicker of jealousy you could not quite suppress.   ---

The court buzzed with whispers of your lessons. Though your position was strictly professional, not everyone saw it that way.  

One day, a Venetian envoy arrived at the palace. Handsome and confident, he spoke fluent Italian and attended one of your lessons with Mehmed, a beautiful act from Sultan. The Venetian greeted you warmly, his gaze lingering a moment too long.  

Mehmed noticed.  

When the envoy complimented your teaching skills, Mehmed’s jaw tightened. And when the Venetian suggested you might be better suited as a translator for his own court, Mehmed’s voice was cold as steel.  

“She belongs here,” he said, his words final.  

Later that evening, after the Venetian left your study room, the lesson was tense. Mehmed was curt, his usual curiosity replaced by a brooding silence.  

“Have I done something to displease you, my Sultan?” you asked cautiously.  

His gaze flicked to you, dark and unreadable. “No. But I do not appreciate others thinking they can claim what is mine.” The words sent a shiver through you, though you weren’t sure if it was fear or something else entirely.  

---

As the weeks passed, the formality between you continued to erode. Mehmed began to linger after lessons, speaking to you of things far beyond Italian—his dreams for the empire, his love of history, his fascination with languages.  

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he asked, “Do you think of me as a monster?”  

The question caught you off guard. “Why would you ask that, my Sultan?”  

“Many romans here do,” he said, his voice quiet. “For what I’ve done. For what I must do.”  

You hesitated, then spoke carefully. “A ruler must make difficult choices. There is always a side that will judge you, but those who follow you will remember the strength you showed.”  

For the first time, his gaze softened, and he said, “You see more than most.”  

---

The turning point came one night during a lesson on poetry. You’d selected a sonnet in Italian, its words rich with longing and beauty.  

As you read aloud, Mehmed’s eyes never left you. When you finished, the silence hung heavy between you.  

“You speak of love as if you’ve known it,” he said, his voice low.  

You met his gaze, your heart pounding. “The words are not mine, my Sultan.”  

“Perhaps,” he said, leaning closer, “but they stir something in you, do they not?”  

Before you could respond, the door opened, breaking the moment. But the tension lingered, unspoken and undeniable.  

---

From time to time, Mehmed would slip into Arabic during your lessons. At first, he was just talking to himself. But then it became more deliberate, the words directed at you.  

One day, as you handed him a fresh quill, he murmured, “Jamila.”  

You froze for a moment before recovering, pretending you didn’t understand.  

Another time, when you struggled to reach a book on a high shelf, he said, “Habibti,” the word rolling off his tongue like silk.  

You knew exactly what it meant—“my love.” And “Jamila,” beautiful. Arabic was one of the ten languages you spoke. But you chose to stay silent, curious to see how far he would go.  

His voice softened when he used those words, the usually commanding tone replaced by something gentler, almost intimate. Each time, your heart raced, though you told yourself it was nothing. He didn’t mean it. Or did he?  

---

One evening, long after the court had gone to sleep, Mehmed found you in the library. You were bent over a stack of books, your hair falling in soft waves over your shoulders. He paused in the doorway, watching you for a moment before stepping inside.  

“I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice softer than usual.  

You looked up, surprised to see him at such a late hour.

“Of course, my Sultan.”  

He sat down across from you, his gaze unusually intense. “Do you think it is better to show love with words or actions?”  

The question caught you off guard. “Both, I suppose,” you said cautiously. “Words can inspire, but actions prove their truth.”  

He nodded slowly, as if weighing your words. “And if someone could not find the courage to say the words?”  

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “Then... perhaps their actions would speak loud enough.”  

For a long moment, the two of you sat in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. Then, quietly, he said, “Thank you, for your wisdom.”  

He rose to leave, but before he could reach the door, you called after him. “Sultan?”  

“Yes?”  

You hesitated, then shook your head. “Nothing. Goodnight.”  

He lingered for a moment before nodding. “Goodnight, Jamila.”  

And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone with the sound of your racing heart.  

[nesrinslittleworld]

[gulnarsultan]

More yandere mehmed the conqueror x daughter reader please!!!!!🙏🙏🙏

"Scenario"

Sultan Mehmet was happy when he learned that he had a daughter. He had three sons but no daughters. Their daughters were born several times, but they did not live long. When he held you in his arms for the first time, it was like time slowed down. Your tiny body, chubby cheeks and beautiful expressive eyes. Mehmet made a promise to himself that day. He would always love and protect his daughter. As the years passed like water, Y/N Sultan was growing up. You were a religious, obedient and kind girl. When you were six years old, you were playing in the garden. Your stepbrother, Prince Cem, wanted to play with you. You weren't very close with your stepbrother. You didn't want to play with him. The prince was angry and pushed you. You fell and hit your head on the edge of the fountain in the garden. Your forehead was bleeding. When you saw the blood, you started to cry in fear. One of your bridesmaids runs to you and hugs you. He took it and ran into the Palace. Doctors immediately gathered around her. Soon you were lying on your bed with your head wrapped. Sultan Mehmet suddenly entered the room.

"My daughter."

"Father Sultan."

He quickly approached you and kissed your forehead.

"What happened dear? Who did this to you?"

"Prince Cem pushed me."

He left after staying with you for a long time. When tomorrow comes, you learn some news from your bridesmaids. Sultan Mehmet sent your half-brother, Prince Cemi, and his mother from the Palace. That day you learned how far your father would go for you. It cuts you to the bone.

[coffeewithcutcaffeine]

It kind of hit me now how Rise of Empires: Ottoman works strongly with the similarities between Mehmed and Vlad (masterful strategists, efficient warriors, innovative rulers, ambitious young men, etc.) to show how drastic Vlad's subsequent rebellion was... but we are shown a massive difference between these two, a golden nugget and a foreboding key that reveals what happens to them in the end.

There is this scene in the first episode where Mehmed has a brief moment with Bayezid who hugs him at one point. He does not know how to return that affection to his son — Mehmed keeps his hands behind his back, then slightly raises them, and only touches the boy's shoulder when he wants him to let go. Their conversation also seems rather formal. Mehmed's relationship with Gülbahar Hatun seems more loving, but the audience can still see the power imbalance of the relationship.

Mehmed is always the ruler. He is the padişah, the sun which all revolves around. He is more than a man, and less human because of it. In a way, he sacrifices what makes him mortal to become eternal.

Vlad is the exact opposite. We do not get to see him as a father, but we see how openly affectionate he is towards Anastasia. Their relationship also feels more equal in its nature. When he learns of her death, he almost turns mad with grief. We can also see how openly he loves and fears for his brother. The letter he sends Radu reveals that he has never stopped caring, as well as what he places great emphasis on — "family is the dearest gift we possess".

Vlad maintains a certain degree of humanity. It almost seems as if his rebellious nature shows even in this aspect, rebelling against what is expected of him through his love for those dear to him. Oftentimes, it becomes a weakness others can use against him. He was very loyal even towards his allies, which is what ultimately proved to be politically fatal to him.

[aphroditelovesu]

can you write a love letter of yandere mehemd the conqueror x gender neutral, reader 😊❤️

My love,

From the moment I laid eyes on you, my heart belonged to you alone. Every beat is an echo of your name, every sigh is a whisper of your charm. How can I explain the intensity of my love for you? It's like the whole world disappears when I'm at your feet, my dear.

I promise to protect you, take care of you, and keep you safe in my arms. No one will ever dare look at you with desire, because you are mine and mine alone. Anyone who dares to come close risks facing the wrath of the empire I built around our love.

My heart is yours, but I can't deny that I feel jealous even of the very breeze that dares to caress your hair. I won't allow anyone to take you from me. I'm willing to go beyond all limits to keep our bond intact, even if it means burning down the entire world around us.

When I look into your eyes, I see a world where only the two of us exist. My love for you transcends all borders, and I would do anything to protect our sacred love. My love, you are the star that guides my path, but you are also the flame that consumes my being.

I hope you accept my unconditional love and understand that everything I do is to keep you safe by my side, forever.

With eternal love,

Mehmed.

[baebeylik]

[elizabeth-halime]

[l-breeze]