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[starryevermore]

the house of snow (4) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: you realize that there is more to this than snow just wanting a bride.

word count: 2,548

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: jealous!coryo, manipulative!coryo, not proofread

It brought you an inexplicable about of joy to get on Snow’s nerves. This was certainly a positive if you had effectively no choice but to marry him. It was fair, though, wasn’t it? He gets you as a bride, and you get to drive him up the wall. And, oh, how you’ve annoyed him. The way his jaw ticked, the narrowing of his eyes when you declared that the beautiful kitten he got you would be named Coriolanus. Just after you denied calling him by his name! If you weren’t intent on seeing how far you could push him, you might have cackled in that moment. 

The joy, however, was short-lived when Snow actually agreed that Coriolanus the Cat was your first son with him. If you would have known that he’d agree, you certainly never would have made the joke in the first place. Now—with Snow and your mother as witnesses to your agreement—you had to behave when around Snow. Granted, you did make the caveat that you would only behave to the best of your ability, which could be as little or as much as you wanted on any given day. Snow would not let you live the agreement down, though, you knew that much. Any time you could think about stepping a toe out of line, you were sure Snow would be quick to bring up the agreement.

You should have known better. 

“What do you think of Snow?” you asked your lady’s maid as she helped you get ready for the day. 

She paused as she tied the laces of your corset. “He would take very good care of you, ma’am,” she said.

You hummed, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. Tigris had made you a pale pink dress. Snow favored red, but your mother would kill you if you wore a color as scandalous as red before you were married. Pink, though, was a close alternative. “In the sense that I would want for nothing, yes, he would. But do you think I could grow to love him?”

She bowed her head, but that did not stop you from seeing the face she made. “He can be charming.”

“When it suits him,” you finish. You sighed. “I apologize. I know you cannot speak ill of the King. I just…am so tired of people acting like I should kiss his feet for showing interest in me.”

As she finished helping you into your dress, she said, “I know nothing of marriage, ma’am, but I know enough to say it is not without its struggles. Even if you could have a love match, there would be days you hate him for the most mundane things.”

“But if it was a love match, then it would all be worth it.” A frown settled on your face. “Or perhaps I’m being naïve. Mama and Papa were once a love match, and their scheming to have me married off to Snow is the first time they have truly spoken to each other in years.”

Your lady’s maid squeezed your hand. “All will be well, ma’am. If you can never love His Majesty, you will find something else to pour your affections into. Now, we should head downstairs. His Majesty is never late.”

You laughed. Well, that was certainly not true. Though, you supposed she didn’t know that. “Sometimes he is.”

But, after checking your reflection one last time, you turned and left your room. Your room was at the top of the stairs, so when you walked out, you could see Snow, holding Coriolanus the Cat, as he spoke with your mother. The sight made you giggle. He looked so uncomfortable holding the little kitten. One would think that he had been made to hold a pile of garbage than a sweet kitty. 

Almost like he heard you, Snow looked up to where you stood. You clenched your teeth, knowing now that you would have to put on an act. Because of the agreement, you no longer could revel in the private moments where you could do everything in your power to annoy Snow. Now, he expected perfection, and he would receive it. 

Slowly, you descended the stairs, your hand dragging along the bannister. The closer you got to him, the more a smirk grew on his face. Oh, you were sure he was reveling in this. 

His eyes never left yours. It was unnerving. Any other man in his position would be staring at your body—treating you completely like an object, just a pretty thing to hang off of his arm. But Snow…You weren’t sure. It was almost like he enjoyed tearing you apart, acknowledging your humanity and your independence just so he could squash any hope you had. 

Snow passed Coriolanus the Cat off to your mother, who looked even more comfortable than him, when you reached the bottom of the stairs. He held his hand out for you, which you reluctantly took. “That dress looks beautiful on you. Did Tigris make it?”

“She’s the only modiste I trust,” you said. 

He smiled. It almost looked twisted. “Then I suppose I should be paying her handsomely for your wedding gown?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Your Majesty—” your mother cut in. 

Her words died in her throat as Snow narrowed his eyes at her. At least he also was not fond of her. If you couldn’t like him as a person, at least you might be able to bond over hating your mother. “Do you think you have the authority to tell me how I should and should not spend my money? I shall spoil my bride however I see fit.”

“Of course. I just meant—”

Snow ignored her, and held his arm out for you to take. “Let us promenade?”

A hint of a smile danced across your face. If all of your conversations were limited to despising your mother, then this might not be so awful. You held onto his bicep. “Let’s.”

Snow led you out of the house, letting your mother scramble to pass off Coriolanus the Cat to the butler so that the two of you wouldn’t get too far without a chaperone. “I think she is going to loathe you by the time you propose if you keep this up,” you said. 

He snorted. “You think it will take that long?”

“Not all of us are smart enough to despise you at first meeting,” you said. “She likely still has delusions of grandeur, that you are only acting this way in an attempt to sweeten me up to you and after we wed, you will be kinder.”

“Ah. Is it working then?”

You frowned, looking up at him. He was already watching you. Did he ever stop staring? “Is what working?”

“Sweetening you up, as you say,” Snow clarified. He offered you a small smile. “Contrary to what you think, I do not wish for you to be unhappy.”

“No, you only wish for me to be a mindless pawn in your pursuit of power. Snow…If you are trying to make me warm up to you, to even just tolerate your existence as opposed to hating it, you will be disappointed. I will not act out. I will not cause a scene. If you wish for me to provide you an heir, I shall. But I will not, and I cannot, pretend that I am happy with this. You have gotten me a kitten. You have offered me a library. You will give me one of the highest titles in Panem. But you cannot provide me with what I want.”

Snow looked away from you. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. For a moment, you wondered if you touched a nerve. You would not care if you did, but Snow also held your entire life in his hands. He could make you as miserable as he wished. Though you may not like it, this was him being kind in whatever way he could manage. “Would it truly be so awful? Loving me?”

By now, you had reached the square. As your eyes swept through the park, you took note of how well-populated the area was. It was not uncommon at this point in the season for the many courting couples to spend their afternoons in the square. It was certainly better than stuffy teas and tense luncheons. With that, though, came the lack of privacy. Unlike a ball, where the music and the dancing and the overlapping conversations drowned everything out, you were in the open. Anything you said, any wrong move you made, could easily be noticed. It was why, you supposed, Snow liked to ask you to promenade. It was one of the few times you would hold your tongue. 

But you could not be silent about your true thoughts now.

Dropping your voice to a near-whisper, you said, “You cannot force love, Snow. It happens organically, with time. With people who do not go at each other’s throats over every disagreement. We are too different. I have told you, I will not sacrifice my ideals to play a happy little wife.”

“I don’t want you to sacrifice who you are. Your ideals, your resoluteness, your inability to ever let something go…That is why I chose you. All I want is your cooperation. If you give me that, I will make everything else worthwhile.”

You nearly rolled your eyes. What more did he want from you? Was it not enough for you to allow him to show you off like you were some doll, to stake his claim on you and say little to anyone about how unwilling a participant you were? “Am I not cooperating now?”

“You are.”

“Then why do you need my love too?”

Snow finally looked at you again. Now, though, his pale blue eyes had darkened. You sucked in a breath. He almost looked…possessed? Was that the right word? He certainly didn’t look himself, the perfect picture of composure. You spared a glance at the couples around you. If anyone saw the way he looked at you, like he might just eat you, no one revealed it. 

“I want all of you, and I cannot settle for anything less.”

Why did he insist on this? Why did it matter so much to him? Snow was getting everything he wanted. He would get a wife. He would get an heir. You were from a good family. You were intelligent enough for his standards. You would even refrain from acting out in public. You would play the role he wanted in the eyes of Panem. Why was all of that not enough? What was so important about receiving your love too? 

Unless…

You dropped Snow’s arm. He looked at you almost like you slapped him. As the two of you stopped in the middle of the walkway, the other couples started to look more closely. You could hardly blame them. It would certainly be entertaining if you and Snow had a lover’s quarrel (or whatever way they decided to paint this picture) in the middle of the square. But you could hardly focus on them. 

“Sejanus was right,” you said. 

Snow’s jaw ticked. Oh. You definitely touched a nerve there. But that hardly made any sense. Him and Sejanus were friends. Of course, you supposed in telling Snow that if you had to marry anyone for social status, you would marry Sejanus, it would put a strain on their friendship. Snow sucked in a breath, as if trying to calm himself. Yet, when he spoke, his tone was clipped. “Do not say his name around me.” 

“But he, Lord Plinth, I mean, was right,” you repeated. It was hard to take heed in his words when all you could focus on what the revelation at hand. 

“I do not care about what he said and whether it was truthful. I would like to promenade, and so that is what we shall do.”

“Snow—”

He grabbed your hand. You nearly jumped away from him. But between his tight grip and the eyes of the ton, you forced yourself to stay still. Snow brought your hand back to his arm, forced your fingers to curl around his bicep. Some of the tension in his shoulders melted away when you touched him. 

“There,” he said. He let out another breath. “You promised me you would behave, yes?”

“I—Yes, I did.”

“Then stop talking, and let us promenade.”

Was this the life you were going to live now? Placating a King whose mood could flip at the drop of a name? You had never seen someone become so angry so quickly. All you had done was say Sejanus’s name, and Snow had acted like you committed treason. Was it treason for him? Did he truly view it that way? If you had known he would be so adverse to even hearing you speak about Sejanus, you would have never admitted to him that you thought Sejanus would be an easy man to love. At the time, though, you thought it wouldn’t matter. Snow already had you where he wanted you. The only person truly standing in your way to pursue other matches was Snow himself. Why would you think that admitting your true desires change anything? 

Not seeing a way out of this, you bowed your head and did not say another word. You feared what he might do if you stepped out of line. If he was so angry at you saying Sejanus’s name, what could he do if you disobeyed him?

Snow stared at you for a long moment, trying to determine what you might do. When he was satisfied with your compliance, he began walking again, acting as if the spat never occurred. You had been prepared for the rest of the walk to be in silence. You certainly didn’t plan on saying anything else. There was no winning if you did. 

“I am going to meet with your father at the end of the week,” Snow said. You sucked in a breath. If he noticed, he didn’t react. “We will need to discuss the terms of our engagement.”

Not knowing what to say, you hummed in acknowledgment. 

Snow, however, was not happy with that. “Tell me you cannot wait to marry me.”

Tears began to prick at your eyes. How could your life be stolen from you in just a matter of weeks? How could Coriolanus Snow come in and ruin everything you wanted for yourself? How could he keep demanding more? You considered repeating the same sentence he said, but you knew he would not be satisfied with that. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I cannot wait to become Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”

His chest puffed out and a smirk settled on his face. Well, at least you knew the right things to say to placate him. That might at least make the marriage easier to manage. 

Snow leaned into you, pressed his nose into your hair. It was hardly appropriate, especially in public, especially between two unmarried people. But he was King, and no one would stop him from doing what he pleased, societal expectations be damned.

“Good girl,” he whispered. 

[fantasyescapes17]

Closed Doors (Part 1)

Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.

Genre: Hoshi x female!reader. Regency!AU. Your title is the Duchess of Graham but your first name is not mentioned.

Warnings: Not even remotely historically accurate. Much like Bridgerton, this is all about the aesthetic.

Word Count: 4k+

Part 2 Part 3

Series Masterlist [This is not the first installment in this series- it is strongly recommended to visit the Masterlist and read the installments in order as they are all interlinked and the timeline can be confusing.]

“So, the Navy, eh?” 

Soonyoung winced as his elder brother clapped him hard on the back. The evening had barely begun but the elder Kwon had already imbibed too much whisky; a rather embarrassing state to be in, considering that they were at one of the most elite balls of the London season. The hostess-the Duchess of Graham- was arguably the richest and most influential lady of the ton and not someone to be trifled with. 

"The Navy, yes," Soonyoung replied weakly. "I enlist in two weeks."

"I didn't take you for a navy man. But excellent. Excellent, Soonyoung. You will make our family proud!"

The elder Kwon stumbled away, drunk and almost knocking over a pair of young ladies that shot him dirty looks. Soonyoung winced again- this time from embarrassment, and not pain. It was a cruel twist of fate that this bumbling buffoon had inherited the entire Kwon family fortune while Soonyoung was left penniless, merely because he had been born a year later. 

Younger sons were truly at the mercy of their brothers. 

"Soonyoung!" 

Soonyoung turned, relieved to see a close friend and another man who shared in his plight as a younger son. Mr. Lee Seokmin was nearby with a glass of water in his hand. 

"Mr. Lee!" Soonyoung greeted his friend warmly. "I see you are starting off the evening early. Do not tell me you have already secured a young lady's hand for the first dance?"

Seokmin grinned brightly. "I have secured a dance indeed; with Miss Yoon, the season's jewel."

Soonyoung was impressed. "Well! Don't let me stop you! You should hurry- young ladies do not like to be kept waiting, and being brother-in-law to the Viscount will only get you so far if your manners do not match his."

"Of course. I heard of your plans to enlist in the Navy," Seokmin added, his tone a little more serious. He lowered his voice. "We will speak about it after the first dance."

Soonyoung forced a smile and agreed. 

Joining the Navy was not something that Kwon Soonyoung had ever truly wanted to do with his life. But ever since he had been old enough to understand that there was no grand estate or family fortune waiting for him when he became of age, he knew that he could not depend on his brother for hand-outs. 

He had very few respectable options open to him- Soonyoung could have taken up a profession, but a few short years at Oxford made it clear that the study of law or medicine ill suited him. His talents did not lie in poring over books for hours on end. He had quickly transferred to the Royal Naval Academy and begun his training to brave the high seas in service to the country. 

Joining the Navy was less a conscious choice, and more a natural consequence of Soonyoung's talents and position in life. He had long since learned to make peace with it. Perhaps he would capture an infamous pirate and be knighted by the Queen. 

One could dream. 

Soonyoung weaved through the groups of fashionable nobility as he admired the magnificence of the Graham's London manor. It was exquisite. Every wall was covered in antique artwork and every marble column seemed to have been crafted painstakingly. This was perhaps the most magnificent building in all of London, second only to the royal palace itself. Soonyoung felt as though he was unworthy to even tread the white marble floors. 

He was also suddenly struck with the fear that his drunken brother would break something priceless. 

Soonyoung managed to reach the lavish spread of refreshments, and was selecting from the endless rows of colourful little cakes when a hand landed on his arm- much gentler than his brother's had been. He turned around and came face to face with Viscount Hong. 

Handsome, gentlemanly and very rich, Soonyoung was often surprised that Viscount Hong even bothered to fraternise with him. Had they not shared some mutual friends back during their brief overlapping time at Oxford, it would surely have been absurd for the Viscount to even know Soonyoung's name.

But as circumstances had it, the Viscount was well known to Soonyoung. If he was being daring, he might have even called him a friend. 

"Soonyoung! A word?" the Viscount asked. 

Soonyoung nodded eagerly. "Of course! I have not seen you in a while, Viscount; congratulations on your wedding, I never got a chance to properly-"

"Yes, thank you," the Viscount replied kindly but in a tone that made it clear he was not looking to exchange pleasantries. "Soonyoung, I hope that in the time we have known each other we have developed a sort of mutual trust?"

Soonyoung blinked. "Yes?"

"I am going to ask you to do something that may seem rather odd, but I need you to trust me and know that I will explain in due course. Can you do that?" the Viscount asked.

Soonyoung did not hesitate. 

"Of course. Anything."

"Excellent. I need you to ask the Duchess to dance with you for the first dance."

The request was so outrageous that it took a few moments for the full meaning of the words to sink in for Soonyoung. He stared blankly up at the Viscount for a few seconds before sputtering out his protests. 

"The Duchess?" he repeated. "I-I do not even… I have never met her!" 

"That is perfectly fine- I will make the necessary introductions," the Viscount replied smoothly as he began to walk away. Soonyoung was forced to abandon his carefully chosen pink and yellow cakes and follow the Viscount. 

"Viscount Hong…"

"Hurry- the dancing will begin in only a few moments!"

Soonyoung had no choice but to follow the Viscount as he led him to the front of the room. Soonyoung knew of you, of course, there was nobody in the ton who had not heard of the elusive Duchess of Graham. But he had never even seen you in person and the idea of daring to ask a Duchess to dance…

"She will say no," Soonyoung realised quickly. 

The Viscount shook his head. "She will not."

"How do you know-"

"Soonyoung. Take a deep breath. I would never knowingly put you in an embarrassing position," the Viscount promised. 

Soonyoung relaxed a little. 

"All right, I trust you…"

The two gentlemen arrived at the head of the ballroom and Soonyoung's eyes finally landed on the Duchess that he had heard so much about. His breath caught in his throat. 

You were beautiful- in an almost regal, ethereal sort of way. Your exquisite lavender-coloured ball-gown shimmered in the bright lights and little diamond studs twinkled in your ears. But your beauty came  from more than the clothes and jewellery you wore. Your beauty was in the way you carried yourself- in your graceful posture, in the way your soft lips curved in a practised smile and your gloves hands rested delicately in front of you while you nodded at the gentleman speaking to you. 

"Soonyoung?" the Viscount asked, when he stopped walking. "Why have you stopped?"

"I-I can't…"

"Come, quickly."

Soonyoung felt as though he was in a dream. The Viscount seized his arm and pulled him along until the two gentlemen were standing immediately in front of you. 

When you turned your gaze upon him, Soonyoung almost felt as though he should kneel before you, in deference to your superior presence.

"Viscount Hong!" you greeted him with a bright but restrained enthusiasm. Even your voice was melodic and gentle to Soonyoung's ears, like a songbird in spring. "I am very glad to see that you could make it this evening. Is the Viscountess not with you?"

Viscount Hong smiled back. "The Viscountess is just speaking to her brothers, Your Grace. She will greet you momentarily. In the meantime, I wanted to make an introduction."

"Oh?"

Your eyes landed on Soonyoung calmly, and he felt as though every part of his body had turned to ice. Your gaze was not condescending or even unkind, but there was something in your eyes that instantly shattered Soonyoung's vision of you as perfection incarnate. 

Your lips smiled, but your eyes were sad. 

"Your Grace, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Kwon Soonyoung. He is the second son of the Kwon family and a close personal friend of mine," the Viscount said. 

Soonyoung would ordinarily have swelled with pride at being called the Viscount's close personal friend but he did not have the time for such luxuries. Remembering his manners, he clumsily reached for the gloved hand you offered him and brought it to his lips. The soft satin smelled faintly of lilacs. 

"Your Grace," Soonyoung said nervously. "It-it is an honour…"

You smiled at him gently. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kwon."

Soonyoung looked up for a brief moment and caught the Viscount's eye; the older man was giving him a meaningful look with his big eyes. 'Ask her to dance' was clearly what the Viscount was trying to silently communicate. 

Abandoning all instincts of self-preservation and placing his faith entirely on the word of Viscount Hong, Soonyoung looked at you with a forced smile. 

"Your Grace- may I ask you to accompany me for the first dance?"

—-----------------------------------------------------

Perhaps it was for the best that Soonyoung had little-to-no warning that he was about to open the first and most-awaited event of the season by dancing with the Duchess of Graham, as it left him very little time to consider the serious societal implications of the situation he was in. 

Soonyoung was no stranger to dancing. He loved it and would never refuse an opportunity to dance provided he could find a partner. It was, therefore, a relief when the opening waltz was one that was very familiar to him. His feet moved smoothly and naturally to the tune of the music and it allowed his mind the freedom to think of what to say to you. 

"I hope you are having a pleasant evening," you said to him politely. Soonyoung was trying in vain to ignore the soft scent of lilacs coming from you (were there fresh flowers entwined in your hair? He was too flustered to look closely) and it took him a few moments to realise that he should compliment you, the hostess, on your ball. 

"Yes!" Soonyoung said quickly. "Yes, the evening is wonderful, this far exceeds the usual events of the London season."

"In what way?" you wondered aloud. 

"In what-sorry, in what way?" he repeated. 

"In what way does it exceed the usual events?" you repeated patiently. 

Soonyoung was stumped. There were real lilacs entwined in the strands of your hair and it was growing far more difficult to keep his thoughts in line. What should he say? The size of the ballroom? The orchestra? The lighting?

"You have a much wider selection of cakes," he said finally. The words had barely come out of his mouth before he instantly realised how stupid they sounded- but to his surprise, you were biting back a small smile. For a moment, he saw that strange lingering sadness disappear from your eyes. 

"The cakes?" you repeated, amused. 

It was too late. He could not extricate himself from this conversation now. Soonyoung had no choice but to double down on his admiration of the cakes. 

"Yes," he continued. "It is quite standard for London balls to offer one or two choices of cake, but I had a chance to pass by the refreshment tables earlier and there were eight different cake selections available."

"I see," you replied. "I suppose that you like cake a great deal, Mr. Kwon?"

Soonyoung blinked. "Don't you?"

"I do like cake, but I will confess that it never occurred to me to use it as a measurement to assess the quality of a ball. I hope you will be kind enough to let me know which of the cakes you liked best? I am sure my kitchen staff would be pleased to learn that their spread had an impact on my guests."

You were not making fun of him. The Duchess of Graham was quite seriously discussing cakes with him at the season's opening ball. 

Soonyoung felt light-headed. 

"I thought the strawberry ones were quite refreshing," he choked out finally. "Strawberries are in season, of course, and the freshness of the flavouring ingredient makes a world of difference."

"Interesting," you said thoughtfully. "Yes; I suppose it is natural for one's cake preference to vary based on the freshness of the seasonal fruit. We grow strawberries back on the country estate this time of year and have them brought over to London so they are quite fresh. I think the weather is right for lemons as well. I am partial to a lemon cake."

"The lemon cakes are delightful," Soonyoung agreed eagerly. "I had a chance to try one earlier. But if I may offer a suggestion- I think a lemon cream might be a lighter and more refreshing option."

"Considering the warm weather?" you asked, interested. "I agree completely. Lemon cakes can be quite dense in the heat. We should have some lighter options as well. I will pass on your recommendation to my cook."

"I hope you will make it clear that the recommendation was not intended as a slight against the cake, which was quite excellent," Soonyoung said hastily.

You smiled. "Of course. I will convey the message."

"Thank you."

The waltz slowly drew to an end and Soonyoung was forced to release you, stepping away from you until he could no longer smell the lilacs in your hair. 

"Thank you for the dance, Mr. Kwon," you told him in your gentle, song-like voice. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

"T-thank you, Your Grace."

You left and Soonyoung quickly stepped away from the dance floor towards the edge of the room. He was so intoxicated by the memory of your voice and smile and scent that he almost bumped head-first into Seokmin, who was waiting for him with a large smile. 

"Did you just dance with the Duchess?" Seokmin demanded, in awe. "How did that come to happen?"

Soonyoung could only shrug. "I… I don't know."

"Unbelievable. What did you talk about? Her title? Did you offer your condolences for her father's death? Is it true that she is planning to marry soon and that the dukedom will pass through the female line?"

Soonyoung blinked. "What?"

"You didn't ask her about any of those things? What did you talk about?"

"Just…" Soonyoung cleared his throat, embarrassed to admit the actual subject of conversation. "We only made light conversation. About the weather and the like. Anyway, was there something you wished to discuss? About the Navy?"

Seokmin's smile fell. "Oh- yes, the Navy. When are you enlisting?"

"In two weeks."

"I am considering joining you," Seokmin admitted. His expression was somewhat glum. "I know things have been looking up for my family since my sister married the Viscount, but I can hardly live off my brother-in-law for the rest of my life."

Soonyoung blinked. "The Viscount would support you in a heartbeat. So would Jihoon."

"Yes- which only makes it all the more embarrassing to depend on their generosity," Seokmin replied with a sigh. He looked up at his friend and offered him his hand. "Shall we go explore the high seas together, Soonyoung?"

Soonyoung shook his hand with a smile. 

"Let's capture some pirates."

"Aye, aye!"

—------------------------------------------------

Soonyoung had not forgotten to seek an explanation from the Viscount for his strange behaviour at the Duchess' ball, but the opportunity did not come immediately. 

Viscount Hong's younger sister- Miss Hong- had been caught in a scandal the very evening of the ball and the Viscount was away making arrangements for her hushed wedding to Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. Soonyoung could hardly knock on the Viscount's door in those circumstances and demand to know why he had asked him to dance with the Duchess of Graham. 

"You must tell us what the Duchess is like," Mr. Kim Mingyu pressed Soonyoung over a game of cards at the gentlemen's club. The handsome rake had a cigar sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he scanned his cards. "I've heard so many things about her."

"What have you heard?" Soonyoung asked curiously. 

"The usual story of how she acquired her title, of course. The late Duke had no surviving male heirs. The dukedom would have died with him, but the Grahams have always been very intimate with the royal family. On his deathbed he sought a special decree from the Queen herself- to allow his title to pass through his only daughter."

Soonyoung nodded. He knew this story. The entire ton knew this story- it had been one of the most discussed topics of the past year. 

"The first woman to be a Duchess by birth and not by marriage," Seokmin remarked as he set down a card. "Does that mean that whoever she marries becomes the Duke of Graham?"

Mingyu nodded. "Naturally so."

"Who would she marry? Surely a Prince? Or another Duke?" Soonyoung wondered. He still remembered that brief dance with you at the ball- you were the picture of beauty and perfection. He could not imagine you settling for anyone less. 

"All the other Dukes are curmudgeonly old men," Mingyu said dismissively. "The Duchess is young and beautiful enough not to have to settle for any of them. Considering her ties to the royal family and that she is a close personal favourite of the Queen- yes, I'd say a Prince is far more likely."

Seokmin sighed. "That would be some celebration," he said wistfully before turning to Soonyoung. "Pity we won't be around to see it, eh, Soonyoung? We will have departed for the Navy by then."

Soonyoung hummed. The day of his planned enlistment drew nearer and the dread in his heart grew greater and greater as the reality of his future sunk in. He was not certain how Seokmin could remain optimistic and casual about their upcoming enlistment.

Mingyu winced as he put out his cigar. "Are you two really doing that? The Navy? Isn't there some other way to come into a fortune- preferably one that does not involve placing yourself in mortal peril?"

Soonyoung scoffed as he played his turn at cards. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Kim, sole heir to a Kim family fortune so large that you've gambled away thousands of pounds and somehow still kept your estate intact. Remind me how much you owe Mr. Yoon again?"

Seokmin chuckled. "There is an idea. Perhaps we can play Mr. Kim for his estate."

Mingyu chuckled and leaned back in his seat. "If it prevents you both from going to the Navy, I'm game."

"The Navy is the only option that really gives men of uncertain fortune like us a chance to earn enough to compete with family money," Soonyoung explained with a sigh. He had done his research- there was no other way. "If one can climb the ranks to obtain a command and sink some enemy ships, the spoils of war are often lucrative enough to justify the effort."

Mingyu was not impressed. "If you survive long enough."

"What would you suggest instead, wise one?"

Mingyu's eyes twinkled. "Haven't you two considered simply marrying into fortune? You're both handsome young gentlemen. I am sure you could find a damsel with a large enough dowry to support you."

"So you would have us become dowry hunters," Soonyoung replied. 

"If you want to put it so crudely…"

"Your rakish behaviour is only passable among the ton because of your fortune, Mr. Kim. I am fairly certain that if Seokmin or I attempted to seduce young ladies of fortune as brazenly as you do, we would have been shot by their fathers or brothers," Soonyoung replied drily. 

Seokmin chuckled. "I'd rather die at sea."

"I will drink to that."

Soonyoung allowed his friend to refill his glass with whisky and sipped it. It occurred to him how much he would miss these casual evenings in London- playing cards and having a drink with his friends as they bickered and joked without a care in the world. 

But life could not be so easy. He had to prove himself in the world. 

The entrance to the gentlemen's club opened and a lone figure walked in. It was Viscount Hong, looking more tired than Soonyoung had ever seen him. He nodded politely at the gathered  gentlemen in greeting. 

"Viscount Hong!" Seokmin greeted him cheerfully. "Join us for a game?"

The Viscount sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not up for any gambling tonight but I will have a drink," he said. One of the waiters came rushing over to pour him a fresh glass of whisky as the Viscount took one of the empty seats at their card table. "It has been a difficult week."

Mingyu nodded. "Have Mr. and Mrs. Jeon left for the countryside?"

The Viscount lifted his glass and emptied it into his mouth before responding. "Yes- I would say that it turned out alright in the end, but I am not sure anyone benefitted from this mess, really. Except perhaps Baron Wright."

Seokmin gestured for the waiter to refill the Viscount's glass. "Say the word and we can deal with the Baron- we'll call it a hunting accident."

The Viscount seemed mildly amused. "Thank you, Seokmin, but there's really no need to murder anyone on my behalf. I doubt the Viscountess would forgive me if you ended up in the gallows on my family’s account."

Seokmin shrugged. "I'm bound for the Navy in a few weeks."

The Viscount laughed. "You must be mad if you think your sister would ever allow that."

"It is not her decision."

The Viscount shook his head lightly. "Far be it from me to interfere with my wife and her siblings. But I am fairly certain that you will not be heading to the Navy as you imagine, Seokmin. Nor, for that matter, will Soonyoung."

Soonyoung, halfway through his third whisky and beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol, looked up and blinked. "Sorry?"

The Viscount turned to face him with an apologetic smile. "I was going to explain why I pressed you to dance with the Duchess that evening, but I am afraid more urgent events distracted my attention. But first- am I correct in assuming that your enlistment in the Navy is only due to your need for a fortune and not due to an actual passion for the high seas?"

Soonyoung cleared his throat. The Viscount was very correct but it was an awkward thing to admit. "I mean, I was planning on capturing some pirates and building my own fortune."

Mingyu chuckled halfway through his attempt to light his second cigar. "Yes, Kwon Soonyoung, with his talent for the Viennese waltz and preference for lemon cream is the ideal man to defend our seas and capture pirates."

Viscount Hong ignored him. "And if there was an easier way for you to come into fortune?"

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"By marriage."

"Don't bother, Viscount," Mingyu said lightly. "I have suggested it already, but these two gentlemen are determined not to present themselves as dowry hunters."

"What if the young lady of fortune approached you first?" 

"And where do you plan to find a young lady of fortune mad enough to do that?" Mingyu joked. 

Viscount Hong gave Mingyu a sharp look which silenced him and then set down his glass of whisky on the table. He turned in his chair to fully face Soonyoung. The look in his eyes was serious and for a moment, Soonyoung felt something akin to anxiety stir in his stomach. 

"What is it, Viscount Hong?" Soonyoung asked nervously. 

"The… Duchess of Graham has expressed an interest in marrying you, Soonyoung."

—------------------------------------------------

[flowerandblood]

The Vanity and Variability (2)

[ Jane Austen • Aemond x Baratheon • female ]

[ warnings: sexual tension, angst, mention of trauma, violence ]

[ description: Despite coming from a family with royal blood, Aemond is forced because of his brother’s debts to choose one of the daughters of the famously wealthy general, Borros Baratheon, as his wife to save his family from bankruptcy. When he arrives to make his choice he is distraught and discouraged, made all the more so by watching from the sidelines his youngest daughter, who seems more intrigued by his dog than her possible future husband. Slow burn, sexual tension, regency and Jane Austen prose vibe, vain, self-righteous Aemond. ]

A story which is an alternative universe of The Impossbile Choice taking place in regency times (1805-1815). The characters are all the same as in the main series, however, for obvious reasons they will behave differently and experience things differently from medieval times. You can read this without having to delve into the main series.

Aemond & Miss Baratheon & VhagarMoodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When their father received a letter of marriage proposal from Otto Hightower he was furious. He thought it would be humiliating for him to give any of his daughters away to a proud, vain bankrupt who would choose any of them by grace, just for their vast fortune.

He decided to create a small domestic gathering and called her, all her sisters and their brother into their living room.

They sat at the table listening with attention and surprise to what he had to say to them. Their father was met with a completely different reaction than he had expected.

"Please, father, he is almost like a prince. I would live in a palace!" Exclaimed Maris, already imagining in her mind how she would walk through the grand chambers of their gigantic mansion located in London.

"The Targaryens are one of the most important names in our country, it would bring great honour to our family. Your grandson would have royal blood, father. What harm would it do for us to have him come here to determine if we would like him?" Cassandra asked, and their father could not find the right answer to this question, so he finally gave in, recognising that it was nothing official for now.

He replied to Mr Hightower that his grandson could come to his estate to get acquainted with his daughters under his watchful eye to decide if they liked each other.

She had no idea what she thought of the arrival of someone like him; her sisters lived only for his person, counting down the days until his arrival.

One evening they sat all together in their nightgowns in Cassandra's room, which she was entitled to as the eldest daughter and was the largest, talking animatedly. It was good custom for it to be the eldest daughter who was married first, and it was clear that she was concerned about what Mr Targaryen would think of them.

"When he arrives here, we must all behave with decorum and maintain good manners. Do you hear me?" She directed her words at her and she swallowed quietly, nodding and lowered her gaze, fiddling with the fabric of her chemise.

She was the youngest of them, standing next to them looking less like a real, full woman and more like a child in her eyes.

Although the shape of her breasts and hips were outlined under her chemise, she didn't look as serious as they did, she still tied her long hair up with a ribbon at the back of her head instead of forming it into an exquisite bun like they did.

She tried once to style her hair in such a bun, but found that it completely didn't suit her. She looked as if she was just trying to disguise herself as a grown-up woman, a wife and mother, which she was not, and she gave up sadly, telling her maid to let her hair down again.

She had never thought about marriage or love before, being far in line behind her sisters, but one day she realised that since it was not agreed that Mr Targaryen would marry Cassandra and that he could choose any of them, he could choose her too.

The thought terrified her.

"But what will I do if he chooses me?" She asked one day on a walk, walking with them leisurely into town to see the new hats in the shops, and Floris laughed out loud at her words.

"Don't bother, you look like a child and you're unkempt. You have nothing to worry about." She said lightly, and she felt burning tears of humiliation under her eyelids, slowing down and following them completely behind.

Although she did not want a husband at all, it hurt her cruelly that they thought he would despise her not only as a possible future spouse, but as a person in general.

She confided her worries to her father, standing before him and weeping, struggling to put her distress into words, and he looked at her with paternal concern, running his hand over her chin. When she had finished speaking he stood up and walked over to her, catching her soft cheeks in his large, rough hands.

"My dearest, why do you need the attention of someone like him? A man who only wants your wealth, who I am sure will not respect or value you? I hope that after his visit your sisters will change their minds and no marriage will take place, and you will pay no attention to him at all when he arrives here. Even if he wanted you for a wife, I would never give you up to him for the devouring of those vultures of London with only vanity and volatility in their hearts." He murmured lowly and leaned down, kissing her forehead, and she felt an immense sense of relief.

Her father, as well as her brother, were always able to comfort her.

When the day of Mr Targaryen's arrival came, her sisters had been dressing up all day, shouting and running around the house, accusing each other of stealing jewellery or dresses, losing something every step and crying. She watched this with amusement, dressed in her everyday summer gown, looking calmly out of the window, thinking only that this commotion did not concern her.

She had stopped feeling bad about the thought, but she was curious to see what kind of man he would be.

When his carriage finally arrived outside their manor house everyone, according to good manners, went out to meet him with their father in the lead. When the carriage door opened a large, beautiful white dog, looking like a fox, suddenly jumped out of it.

She thought it was love at first sight.

She immediately ran towards her despite her father's calls, and the animal jumped on her, putting its dirty paws on her shoulders, licking her face. She laughed, embracing her around her waist, dishevelled by how sweet this dog was.

When she finally jumped down she stroked her soft fur and raised her head, noticing the man looking at her out of the corner of his eye, pale, his lips tightened into a thin line expressing impatience and embarrassment, his gaze piercing, cool and uncomfortable, the black ribbon bow tying his almost white hair into a long ponytail.

He pulled off his cylinder, tucked it under his arm and it was only then that she noticed his famous black eye patch, the long scar stretching across the entire left side of his face.

She thought that, contrary to what she had imagined, he was not scary, but, according to her father's words, he seemed to her infinitely vain and distraught at having to be here, even though they were doing his family a favour.

She decided not to think about him and leave the conversation with him to her sisters, leaving all her attention and love to his dog, whose name, as it turned out, was Vhagar.

Taking advantage of her owner's absence, she decided to lock herself in her room with her along with a piece of roast on a plate and practice tricks with her.

"Sit." She said lowly, and Vhagar immediately sat down, looking greedily at the piece of meat she had in her hand. She handed it to her as soon as she followed her command, and she devoured it greedily, licking herself with a loud click.

She also appeared to be able to lie down and stand still on command, as well as running up to her leg.

"Give me your paw." She said, extending her hand to her, and she sat up, wagging her tail, looking with big eyes at the next piece of meat she was holding, panting heavily.

She sat down next to her on the floor, still holding her outstretched hand in front of her.

"Give me your paw." She repeated, and she began to squirm and bark, not understanding what was expected of her, what she had to do to be able to eat this delicious piece of chicken.

She took her paw in her hand and shook it, showing her what she was supposed to do, then placed a piece of meat in front of her, which she immediately swallowed.

"Good doggy." She praised her and stroked her, taking another piece from her plate, again extending her hand to her.

"Give me your paw." She said softly, Vhagar twisted in her place and barked. She repeated the command and she scratched her thigh with her paw, checking to see if this was the movement she had in mind.

"Good doggy! Such a good doggy!" She said happily, letting her eat another piece of meat, stroking her fur, praising her wisdom.

They both jumped when she heard a quiet knock on her door. She opened it and was startled to see the silhouette of their guest, looking down at her as if he was about to kill her, Vhagar threw herself at him cheerfully, longing for her owner.

"Vhagar! Calm down! Sit." He commanded her coolly, clearly frustrated, and she pressed her lips together, deciding that she would share the rather pleasant news that his dog was able to perform a new activity thanks to her efforts.

"I was just teaching her a new trick." She whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping family members and was already about to explain to him what the trick was specifically about when he spoke directly to her, looking at her disapprovingly.

"Don't come near my dog again." He hissed and whistled at Vhagar, motioning towards his room.

She pressed her lips together, feeling a sting in her heart at his unpleasant and cold words, but thought she might have expected it. She saw to her surprise, however, that his dog turned towards her every once in a while, standing and apparently considering whether she felt like continuing to play with her instead of going to sleep.

Despite her owner's efforts, she refused to budge and jumped up when he suddenly grabbed her violently by the fur on her neck, pulling her forcibly towards his room, as if he had completely lost his temper, furious, she pulled in the air loudly and squealed in despair at the sight, hearing her whine full of pain and terror.

"− no! − please! − wait −" She called out pleadingly, and suddenly, as if he realised what he was doing he looked at her surprised and let go of Vhagar, who immediately ran away from him, hiding back in her room. She looked at his face and was surprised to find that he was broken, she had a feeling that he was about to cry.

What was the matter with him?

She swallowed loudly, wanting to quickly alleviate the situation she ran into her room and picked up a piece of meat, shoving it under Vhagar's nose. She immediately followed her, curious, and they both left the room, but when she saw her owner standing in the same place she panicked and lowered her tail, fearing that he would do the same to her as he had a moment ago.

She approached his stony figure, she had the impression that he had completely frozen absorbed in his own agony at the thought that his dog would now hate him.

"Hand it to her and call her out, just don't get angry." She whispered to him pleadingly, handing him the meat she held between her fingers. They both crouched down, looking at Vhagar, who watched them with lowered ears, alert. He held out his hand to her, she could see that his fingers were trembling.

"− come, Vhagar − I'm sorry − it's all right −" He whispered with difficulty, brokenly, no longer resembling at all the man she had seen getting out of the carriage. He seemed suddenly human to her, full of some cruel contradiction she could not comprehend. She felt the pain pouring out of him, the fear of rejection, and involuntarily felt sympathy.

She realised that he had probably been forced to come here, exposed as if in a market to be watched and judged by her sisters, all the time in the limelight, having to make a choice even though they, in his eyes, were not worthy of him in status.

She thought he had no right to feel superior to them, coming here only for their fortune, but she couldn't help seeing him now as just an ordinary man, terrified by the vision that his beloved pup would be afraid of him.

Vhagar approached him slowly and hesitantly took from his hand what he had on it. She saw his fingers stroke her white fur with tenderness and gentleness, and then her head snuggled against his chest, his face pressed against hers expressing something like relief, his lips tightened, his eyes red.

She smiled at the sight, feeling at the same time remorseful at the fact that all this had happened because of her, because she hadn't asked his permission if he would mind if she played with his dog.

"− I'm so sorry −" She whispered softly and he looked at her, she noticed with surprise that his gaze was not cold and chilly. It was focused, uncertain, filled with feeling, suffering and loneliness, depth and emptiness at the same time.

He did not answer.

She stood up and called out quietly to Vhagar, heading for his room, and she immediately moved to follow her. She wanted to lead her to his bedroom and force her to stay there to end this whole unpleasant situation.

She sat down on the floor and reached out to her. She immediately laid down next to her and put her paw on her thigh as she taught her. She smiled and stroked her soft fur, then lifted her gaze and saw that he was standing over them, looking at them as if they were some amazing creatures, in his eyes surprise and shock that she dared to enter his room in the middle of the night in just her nightgown.

The realisation of this gaffe hit her with redoubled force and she stood up quickly, explaining that she only wanted Vhagar to go in there after her, leaving quickly and closing the door behind her, running to her room and sighing heavily, feeling her heart pounding fast.

She thought that this was not a good start to their acquaintance and that he probably hated her for sure now.

However, she decided that since he wouldn't consider her anyway it didn't matter, she was more worried that by her behaviour he would have a bad opinion of her sisters, and she knew how Cassandra cared about this marriage.

She was the eldest and felt time was slipping through her fingers, many men had asked for her hand because of her father's wealth, but they were too old for her or unpleasant to look at.

It appeared that she might have been too fussy, and now someone from a royal background almost their own age had come to their house and it seemed the perfect opportunity for her.

She didn't want to ruin her happiness.

However, as always, Floris was unable to restrain her nosiness even at breakfast, pestering her with questions and accusations that she did not have the strength to answer. She felt Mr Targaryen's eye on her, and if she didn't know him she would have thought she saw a hint of sympathy in his gaze.

"My dear, apologise to Mr Targaryen for your behaviour and for taking his dog for yourself." Her father finally said to her, and she swallowed loudly, lifting her gaze to him.

She could see that he was looking at her uncertainly, terrified of what she might say, of what she had seen, which could reflect badly on his reputation.

"I am deeply sorry for my behaviour and all the unpleasantness that came with it." She choked out with difficulty what she really wanted to say to him and saw that he swallowed loudly, lowering his eyes and hummed under his breath as if in thought, running his fingertips over the table top.

"I also apologise, miss Baratheon." He said lowly, startling her completely, and as he lifted his determined, burning gaze to her she understood that he wanted to tell her that he was ashamed of his behaviour.

She felt a warmth in her heart at the thought that he had decided to apologise to her even though the fault lay with her.

She heard Floris snort at his words, displeased that he had not rebuked her.

"Mr Targaryen, do not apologise to her. She is like an animal herself." She said with amusement, looking her straight in the eye, and she felt humiliation spilling over her body, her cheeks red.

She swallowed hard, breathing unevenly, lowering her gaze, repeating to herself that she couldn't make a scene and start crying in front of him, that Cassandra would reprimand her again, saying she was acting like a child.

She felt she was losing to her own distress and got up at last, apologising quietly and left quickly, running out into the courtyard. She heard quick footsteps behind her a moment later and didn't even have to turn around to know it was Royce.

"Wait." He called out to her and she stopped, looking at him with parted, trembling lips, tears streaming involuntarily down her red face. Royce put his arm around her waist and she embraced his as they moved ahead, looking forward, saying nothing.

"Don't mind her. She can't bear the thought of not living in a grand palace. Unfortunately, I can't say she's the smartest of my sisters." He said amused, and she burst out laughing through her tears, hugging him, as usual feeling relieved in his company.

"What was he apologising to you for?" He asked after a moment, and she grunted quietly, unsure if she should talk about it.

"He was angry that I locked myself in my room with his dog. But he was right. That's all." She said briefly, figuring she would skip the details, not wanting to put him in a bad light in front of her brother, recognising that she had known him too briefly to judge him so quickly.

Royce already wanted to go home, but she said she wanted to continue her journey and walk to the lake to calm down completely. She loved listening to the quiet sound of the water sitting by the shore and had no desire to look at Floris for the next few hours.

So she moved ahead alone, taking comfort from the beautiful summer views all around her, the fields surrounding her green and full of flowers, the air clean and crisp.

She shuddered when she suddenly heard a loud barking and saw Vhagar running quickly towards her. The dog pounced on her and started licking her face, and she laughed out loud.

"What are you doing so far from home?" She asked, stroking her snout as she fell back onto her four paws, and it was only when she looked around that she noticed Mr Targaryen's silhouette sitting on the shore, his impenetrable gaze directed towards her.

For a moment she considered returning home, but realised she didn't want to go back there. Even more so if he wasn't there now, her sisters would lash out at her with questions and accusations, keeping at least a hint of civility in his presence.

Only Ellyn was being nice to her, Cassandra tried to fight the feelings warring within her, but she could see the frustration on her face.

No matter how hard she tried to stay away from him, she kept running right into him.

She thought that maybe if they had her attitude they would experience the same thing.

She sighed heavily and started walking towards him, recognising that it wasn't just his shore, that she was the first to discover this place and had as much right to sit there as he did.

She sat down beside him on the sand, a safe distance away, which Vhagar took immediate advantage of to lie down between them, laying her head on her thighs.

She was sure he would get up and go somewhere else, discouraged by her presence, he, however, seemed to make nothing of it, sunk in his own thoughts. She closed her eyes and began to listen to the sounds of the wind and water, the pleasant breeze wrapped around her face. She felt sleepy.

She opened her eyes after a few minutes, looking around as if half asleep, and saw to her surprise that Mr Targaryen had fallen asleep beside her, his head settled on his shoulder, his face unusually gentle and calm.

She thought he needed a moment of rest and solitude too, and smiled at the thought.

With some strange warmth in her heart, she lay down next to Vhagar and wrapped her arms around her, wanting to fall asleep next to them.

After they had returned to her mansion, after what he had said when Floris had assaulted her, she herself was not sure what she thought of him.

On the one hand, she felt grateful because he had stood up for her, refuting any rumours or conjecture about the nature of their walk, but on the other hand, his words were so cruel and insolent that she thought he would never have referred to a woman of his status in such a way, that he was showing how much he despised them, that he did not regard them as equals.

The next day they were all due to go to church, and as it was literally a five-minute walk from their property, they decided to go there on foot.

She wore her bonnet on her head, so she tied her hair up in a bun like her sisters to make the whole thing look right, the colour of her headdress warm cream, just like her dress.

She did not know if the form of the walk made Mr Targaryen happy or not, his expression remained invariably indifferent. He walked at the front with her father and Royce, Royce telling him something with amusement and he seemed to be partially listening to him.

Further along walked Cassandra, Maris and Floris, adding a word or two to their brother once in a while, and she walked at the back with Ellyn.

"Floris is very jealous." She told her quietly, clearly wanting to comfort her. "She teases each of us behind closed doors and says very nasty things."

She did not feel surprised by what she heard. Floris always cried when her father refused her, loving to point out mistakes to everyone but herself.

She thought that she had felt overlooked all her life and was now trying to make up for it by getting everyone's attention, the higher-ranking person it was, the better.

It wasn't long before they arrived at a beautiful little brick church surrounded by a stone wall and orchard. They went inside, their father greeting everyone, the presence of Mr Targaryen sparked great interest and everyone wanted to shake his hand.

She could see the tension on his face, the enormity of his discomfort in the presence of so many strangers, and she thought he was in constant pain, forced to be polite and courteous when he felt like running away.

One by one, they all began to sit down in the pew where their family always sat, but when she wished to take her place at the end, Floris placed her hand on the seat.

"This seat is for Mr Targaryen. After all, we won't let him sit at the back." She said lightly, and she felt a tightening in her throat, tears of humiliation filling her eyes once more.

"There's enough room for everyone." She whispered, her father leaning over, looking at her concerned, not understanding why she and Mr Targaryen were not yet seated.

"There isn't."

She looked at her with red eyes, feeling her clenched lips tremble, but there was not a trace of hesitation or sympathy on her sister's face.

So she turned back, swallowing loudly, sitting down in the empty bench behind them, her father turning his head after her, startled.

"What are you doing?"

She did not answer him, for she looked shocked sideways when she saw that Mr Targaryen had stepped into her pew following her, placing his cylinder on his free side, undoing one button from his tailcoat, sitting down beside her with his legs crossed.

Floris turned towards him, apparently wanting to announce to him that there was a place for him on their bench, but before she could open to say anything, a single, cold sentence left his lips.

"Please attend to your prayers, Miss Baratheon."

Floris turned pale and pressed her lips together, turning away, pretending nothing had happened. She looked at him sideways and swallowed loudly as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, frustrated.

"Can't you concentrate on prayer in the house of God either, Miss Baratheon?" He growled and she shook her head, pulling out her prayer book from her small pouch hanging on her hand, not daring to turn her gaze to him for the entire liturgy.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't concentrate on what Pastor Thomson was saying, thinking only of the fact that he had given up the seat he was entitled to by his status and sat next to her.

She thought he did this because he wanted to avoid her sisters, because after their nap at the lake he knew she would not torment him. That he sat next to her because he wanted to show Floris again what he thought of her.

She figured that perhaps he wanted to comfort her too, that he didn't want her to sit alone away from her family, rejected and abandoned.

The last thought filled her heart with gratitude and warmth and she found herself thinking that he was a more complicated man than she had originally assumed.

As they stood up to receive the eucharist, Mr Targaryen let her go ahead and, squeezing between him and the pew, she involuntarily brushed against his body and heard him quietly gasp through his nose, all tense.

She knew he was standing behind her in line, she could hear his breathing behind her, she could feel his gaze on her. This was a test, he wanted to see if she would get distracted again, if she would think about him, if she would end up pestering him like her sisters.

She thought he didn't deserve her treating him so objectively.

She preferred to think of herself as his friend who, understanding his needs, would not impose on him, allowing him to remain comfortable in her presence.

She didn't look at him as she passed him in line or as she sat back in the pew and they both listened to the psalms, waiting for everyone to take communion.

She swallowed loudly as she felt him spread his knees, sitting down more comfortably, his leg rubbing against hers and pressed to her barely perceptibly.

She felt a pleasant shudder and swallowed loudly, running her fingers over the book lying on her thighs, but she didn't dare to look at him, not wanting to give him satisfaction.

She gasped, her heart starting to pound like mad as he righted himself on the seat and grunted, leaning back with his shoulders against the rest of the bench, his knee pressed almost painfully hard against her leg now.

She felt herself breathing through her mouth, droplets of sweat running down her neck, her fingers tightening on her prayer book.

She felt him looking at her.

She felt his breath directed towards her, enveloping her face.

She glanced at his hand lying on his knee pressed against hers, his pointing finger tapping restlessly against the material of his trousers, as if impatient.

What did he want?

Why was he doing this, playing with her, putting her in this position?

She drew in the air in horror when his hand suddenly pulled away from his knee and moved over her thighs towards her fingers, as if he wanted to grab them.

She clutched her book, terrified, and heard him hum under his breath as he grabbed her prayer book, sliding it out of her hands in a slow movement.

She felt her whole body quiver, her fingers trembling as they lay numbly on her lap.

She knew he had seen it.

Was he deriving some kind of dark satisfaction from it?

She watched out of the corner of her eye as he looked through her prayer book page by page, even though he had his own lying on the backrest in front of him.

Hers was older, had belonged to her mother, was her only memento of her after her death, and she felt uneasy seeing it in the hands of someone else.

"Please, sir, give it back to me." She whispered quietly and heard his murmur expressing surprise or displeasure.

"What harm am I doing? I am merely looking at it, Miss Baratheon." He hummed low, licking his finger and turning the page, something about the gesture seemed inappropriate, ungodly to her and she thought he had done it on purpose.

"Please. This is my only memento of my mother." She mumbled helplessly and felt him suddenly freeze.

She didn't look at him but she could feel the atmosphere of discomfort between them, his knee pulled away from hers as he grunted, swallowing loudly, pointing her book towards her, holding it in his hand.

She reached for it with a trembling hand, and their fingers involuntarily touched, she had the feeling that his thumb had purposely run over her skin, as if in a gesture of apology, of comfort that made her want to cry, she felt goosebumps on her cheeks.

She put her prayer book back on her thighs, clasping her trembling hands on them, breathing hard, feeling as if he was mocking her, taking pleasure and satisfaction in what he could do to her, in how naïve she was.

She felt as, despite her mind's tremendous efforts, tear after tear began to run down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly with her thumb, but they kept flying.

She saw his hand, which again laid stretched across his knee clenched into a fist, his fingers moving restlessly.

He knew she was crying because of him.

When the liturgy ended she stood up first and headed quickly for the door, not looking at him or her family.

When she turned into the field corner and knew no one could see her anymore she burst out into a loud sob, tired of her sisters, tired of this strange, variable men who played with her, who would never look at her or her family as equals.

She drew in a loud breath when she heard quick footsteps behind her and, thinking it was Royce, turned hopefully behind her. She turned pale and parted her lips with a sound of mournful despair when she saw him, breathing loudly, his hair in partial disarray, slipping out of its ribbon.

"Miss Baratheon. Forgive me." He mumbled, not believing himself that these words were coming out of his mouth, clearly surprised and ashamed of his own behaviour. "I have no idea what has gotten into me."

They stood before each other in silence, looking at one another with wide eyes, she struggled to calm her breathing, her trembling lips slightly parted in disbelief.

"I don't understand you, sir. I try, but I don't. You are cruel. You humiliate me and my sisters knowing that we do not stand in a position to oppose you. I would like to be your friend, but I am not sure you could be a friend to anyone, let alone a person of such low position as myself." She almost wailed, shaking her head, looking at him with anguish, something flashed across his face, his brow furrowed, his lips tightened, he swallowed loudly, her words hitting something deep inside him.

She did not give him a chance to reply. She turned her back on him, seeing her family approaching, and set off towards her mansion, thinking with despair that she already felt sorry for whichever of her sisters this man would choose as his wife.

______

Taglist 1 @its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[angelwhisp3rs]

༺♥༻ royals

Pairing: re4r!leon x fem!reader

Summary: A regency era tale of two enemies lovers brought by a legend of the royal bluebell flower.

Tags: fluff; smut; p in v; fingering; leon is an asshole but just a bit.

This is the third part of my valentines advent! Check it out for the next couple of days for more stories!

Notes: I ALMOST DIED BUT IM FINE, feeling fresh after sh**ting and v**iting for two days!!! ALSO THIS WAS BASED ON A C.AI BOT AND I LOVE HIM

Those balls were all too pretentious, way too classy, and filled with people who pretended to like one another but, in reality, they were just hateful. It didn’t help that the event was being held in her enemy's territory: the Kennedy family.

The family was very prestigious and quite well known all around the realm, but they had a long-lasting feud with Ihelia, her family's kingdom - something about riches and lands centuries ago, but no one is quite sure. For now, they still didn’t see eye to eye for another reason: they were just way too snobbish.

God, especially the oldest, Leon. In a rare occurrence, the man was blonde with blue eyes - while some had one characteristic, this little asshole had both. To make matters worse, he was built like a freaking hero, his sparring abilities being renowned in all the kingdom. So yeah, the man was way too handsome and way too competent. To say he was egotistical was an understatement.

Her parents always told her she had to fulfill her duties as a princess to be wed, attending parties and mingling with the royals. Oh gods, how much did she hate it.

She was almost beginning to give up on keeping appearances as a nice old lady, the former queen of the Luterra kingdom - the one ruled by the Kennedys now. She was always known for her kindness, also being the one responsible for the truce period of Luterra and Ihelia. Doing a proper courtesy, she smiled at the queen mother. 

“Your majesty. It's a pleasure to attend such a beautiful event” Oh, how fake she was

“Oh honey, no need to keep up appearances. I always thought my son was way too obnoxious with his parties” she laughed, offering a welcoming pat on her shoulders.

The princess smiled relieved, looking at the former queen with the utmost respect. Gosh, what a wise woman. “I thought the lions were quite artistic. '' The princess jokes, as the queen mother laughs in agreement.

“So, you entered the age of finding suitors. Someone charmed you yet?”

“Not yet, your majesty. My father is busy telling me I should focus on the strategic side of relationships, while my mother just wants me to focus on a wealthy man”

“Oh dear, what about love?”

“Don’t think it is in the cards for me” the princess smiled apologetically.

“Of course it is. It's for everyone! Have you ever heard of the tale of the royal bluebell flower?”

The princess shook her head, curious about the queen's words.

“It’s a known tale in Luterra. Once in a lifetime, if destiny smiles upon you, you will be able to find a royal bluebell flower in the castle. Once you find it, the flower will guide you to your one true love if you still haven’t found it.”

“That sounds magical, your highness. Maybe I should roam around the gardens then” she joked.

For some reason, the queen gave the girl a knowing smile. The woman was wise beyond her years after all. “Don’t worry. Luterra lands are quite magical. They will lead you anywhere you are”

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Roaming the party his dad threw, Leon almost seethed as he watched his beloved grandmother talk to one of the lowlifes in Ihelia. He never understood her high morals of talking to the people who tried to steal their money and land. They weren’t to be trusted - they tried to steal once, which could guarantee they wouldn’t do it again.

He approached them, gearing himself with a knowing smirk, looking dashing in his red and gold ornamental suit.  

“Didn’t know our parties could be accessed by anyone. I think I’ll talk to dad to reinforce security next time”

The princess rolled her eyes, while the queen just snickered. She quickly excused herself, giving Leon a warning look to “behave”. As the young royals were alone, his nice facade dropped - he didn’t want to appear like a complete jackass in front of his beloved grandma, after all. 

“Genuely, why are you even here?”

“I was invited, idiot. If I could, I wouldn't have come here even if I was threatened”

“I forgot how my dad invited even the most needed ones. Such a charitable man”

“If he was charitable he wouldn’t have brought to Earth a menace like yourself”

Before he could answer, the orchestra began playing a more romantic and slow song. Finding it as another opportunity to tease her, he asked for her hand, knowing that she would look distasteful if she ever wanted to refuse his hand.

“My lady. Do you accept this dance?”

If possible, that was the pivotal moment that she almost killed the bachelor. Forcing a smile to not drop her etiquette, she nodded and held his hand, letting him guide her to the dance floor. 

By destiny's irony, they fit like perfect puzzles, his big and calloused hand wrapping against her delicate gloved one. Their bodies moved in synchrony, and the dance wasn’t as awkward as it was between other bachelors.

“I’m surprised you know how to dance at all, it looks like even in poverty lands they appreciate culture”

“Your grandma is so sweet, how are you even related to her?”

“Grandma is too kind, she always respects those in need. She doesn’t see the scumm your family is” he said in a cruel smirk.

She maintained the appearance, giving him a forced smile. “It amazes how you call yourself smart and yet still hold a grudge - that isn't yours - after centuries.”

“Ha, is that the best you could say to me?”

“Honestly, no. The way you act is so beneath me that I don't think it is worth it to spend so much energy on you”.

As I'd on cue, the orchestra stopped the song, and she did another courtesy and left the dance floor.

However, she failed to watch Leon pale, but for reasons she would be none the wiser for a long time.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

“Honey, the ball in Luterra must've been quite exciting”

“Ah, not much. Why do you say that?” The princess asks her father curiously.

“Because the oldest of the Kennedys just asked for your hand in marriage”

“HE WHAT?”

It was quite comical how her voice resonated in the castle, looking confused. 

“I know you might not like it, but it is a perfect marriage for you. It would solve the rift between the kingdoms and it would secure both households in influence”

The princess looked angrily at her dad, as he told the most absurd thing she ever heard, with even worse reasons.

“Do any of my feelings matter at all?”

“They do, but we have to be strategic. I'm sorry, honey, but I already accepted it”.

She lost her grounding, looking desolated at her father's words. It didn't matter what she felt or what she said, at the end of the day, she was a pawn to serve her father's wishes.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

The change into his castle was even more terrifying. But what she could never count was the complete change in Leon's behavior. Although he still wasn't overly friendly, he was much kinder - he was the one who started that lunacy after all.

They still slept in separate rooms until the wedding happened, but he made an effort to spend at least a part of the day with her. Whenever she asked him for his reasons for wanting to marry her, he always gave her the same answer.

“Please ask me after our wedding”

After some weeks of curiosity, the ceremony happened, and it was perfect. To everyone watching, it was a wedding to be remembered for years. Hell, even she felt like a true princess.

She warmed up to Luterra, especially the castle and its staff. Her assigned maid was absolutely lovely, and she honestly considered the woman a friend. 

Still, she vehemently ignored her family in the ceremony. If they traded her like a pawn, they can play that game by themselves, she doesn't want to be a part of it.

By the end of the night, Leon and she were finally sharing a room. She looked nervous, sitting up in bed with him. He was the first one to break the ice.

“You looked beautiful today. You always do, but you shined even more today”

“Thank you. And thank you for being at my side the entire day. I'm glad I didn't feel alone”

“I would never. I will always choose you”

Some moments passed, and she bit the bullet.

“Leon… why me?” 

He was a coveted bachelor, every woman would want him. Why his enemy?

He smiled, and looked down at the sheets, as if he was embarrassed.

“Your hair ornament at the day of the ball”

“What? Just because?” I asked giggling.

“No. It was a royal bluebell. That's when I knew”

She looked at him surprised. Just the tale his grandmother told her at the party. That's why she looked so cunning, she must've realized the flower she had on her hair.

“But Leon, anyone could've worn something with the flower-”

“No. I didn't want to attend the event, but I heard a staff member talking about destiny's surprises. I was already late to the event, and you were the first woman I saw.”

“Jeez, you take these things seriously. You honestly think I'm your soulmate”

“Wholeheartedly. And if you don't, I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you”

She was taken aback by his words. So moved, she pressed a kiss to his lips, surprising both at the spontaneity. Leon didn't waste any time and got over her - it was their honeymoon, after all.

In a mess of limbs and eagerness, both were naked as they explored each other's bodies, breathless and excited. Leon maintained eye contact and lifted her thighs to his waist, offering his fingers to her and letting her mouth soak them. Then, they moved down to her clit, circling and rubbing it slowly, drinking in the soft gasps of pleasure.

“So soft, baby… gonna make this pretty pussy love me just as much as you do”

As she was wet enough, one finger gently entered her needy hole, finding her g spot and rubbing it slowly, her entrance clenching around him.

His movements were slow but deliberate, and soon his pretty princess fell apart on his fingers. No time to waste, his other hand lifted her other thigh to his hips, giving easy access to her.

His hand pinched and circled her nipples, kissing her deeply as his tip began to slide in, causing both to moan in unity.

“Fuck, Leon… too much”

“You can take it, you are my good girl”

She clenched at the praise, making him smirk. He kept praising her, till she was ready to take cock. 

“My baby, gonna take care of you forever”

“Doing so good, just taking me so deep”

“Pussy made to be fucked by me

As he felt her more comfortable and turned on, he moved his hips at a consistent pace, the angled head of his cock hitting her spot just nicely. 

She scratched his arms and back, guaranteeing he henot be able to be shirtless in front of people for quite a while, but he didn't mind. He would take every mark she gave in, that's how much he loved her.

He moaned as his cock was swallowed by her gummy walls, her wetness granting a white creamy circle at the base of his manhood.

He positioned himself again, throwing her legs over his arms and bending her in half, letting him hit it deeper, making his wife tear up - in pleasure, of course.

“God, if you keep clenching I won't be able to hold back, baby”

“Please, please, just want you to cum. Please fill me up, husband”

Jesus, how could he resist? He was only a man after all. As his hips pistoned in her, he felt her contracting her walls and cumming all around him, triggering his orgasm.

She whined as she felt filled up, her body shaky as her orgasm just threw her on cloud 9. She smiled as he kissed her face as he came down too, appreciating and worshiping the body of his soulmate.

“Isn't that enough proof that you are my destiny?”

“Hmm, don't know that… maybe you should try again” She said smirking.

Leon didn't oppose her. After all, he had all eternity to prove his love.

[andypantsx3]

andie can u give us some book recs?<33

Yes!! Although normally I think recs are best given in the context of your other tastes, because I find literary preferences to be a highly-individualized thing!! So without knowing what other books you love, idk how my recs will hold up.

But I will give you some of my personal recent faves!!

I have already talked at length about my favorite book of all time The Goblin Emperor, and I think I've already also recommended the Pink Carnation series to my fun silly regency romance lovers, so I will not go into depth on them here but those are easily my all time faves.

I forget if I have also already talked about Winter's Orbit so forgive me if this is repeat info for you!! But I absolutely loved this book.

SUMMARY: While the Iskat Empire has long dominated the system through treaties and political alliances, several planets, including Thea, have begun to chafe under Iskat's rule. When tragedy befalls Imperial Prince Taam, his Thean widower, Jainan, is rushed into an arranged marriage with Taam's cousin, the disreputable Kiem, in a bid to keep the rising hostilities between the two worlds under control. But when it comes to light that Prince Taam's death may not have been an accident, and that Jainan himself may be a suspect, the unlikely pair must overcome their misgivings and learn to trust one another as they navigate the perils of the Iskat court, try to solve a murder, and prevent an interplanetary war... all while dealing with their growing feelings for each other.

I really like the way Kiem's & Jainan's pictures of one another shift over the course of the narrative, and as you read them through one another's eyes you understand their unreliability in self-narration due to their own personal insecurities. And what I love is that they both strive to emulate the traits they grow to respect in one another and that becomes the key to defeating the forces working against them!! It's so masterfully done, very gentle and thoughtful, and I hope someday to write a book just like this.

As an aside the author also got their start on ao3 and has a tumblr account and you can really feel the love & respect for some of the fannish conventions in their work. Cannot recommend enough.

This is also so basic of me but I would be remiss if I did not also recommend Howl's Moving Castle which I recently reread. If you have seen the movie but not read the book, you are absolutely missing out because it's very much its own unique experience with several divergences from the plot of the movie. Sophie's perspective is hilarious, it's such a fond send up of men in general, and I love the extra argumentative element to Howl & Sophie's relationship we get to see here; I feel it adds way more depth to their characters and relationship and you will totally eat it up.

I also read The House Witch recently and would definitely recommend to fantasy fans who are in the mood for something wholesome and cozy!!

SUMMARY: When Finlay Ashowan joins the staff of the King and Queen of Daxaria, he’s an enigma. No one knows where he comes from or how he came to be where he is, which suits Fin just fine. He’s satisfied simply serving as the royal cook, keeping nosy passersby out of his kitchen, and concocting some truly uncanny meals. But Fin’s secret identity doesn’t stay hidden for long. After all, it’s not every day a house witch and his kitten familiar, Kraken, take to meddling in imperial affairs. As his powers are gradually discovered by the court, Fin finds himself involved in a slew of intrigues: going head-to-head with knights with less-than-chivalrous intentions, helping to protect the pregnant queen, fending off the ire of the royal mage, and uncovering a spy in the castle. And that’s only the beginning—because Fin’s past is catching up with him just as his love life is getting complicated . . .

It is not the most tightly-buttoned narrative, I think because there are several more books in the series that I haven't read yet, so there are lingering threads of an overarching plot I've not seen sewn together yet. But it's an extremely easy and accessible read and I again really loved the respect and admiration the characters grow for each other, even as they resist their feelings for one another.

This rec in particular though I can see people disagreeing with me on, as some of the humor is like kind of immature and you can tell the author is inexperienced and/or the editing team did not quite do their jobs as some of the ending felt forced or cobbled together. But overall I really did like this book, I thought the gems of a really compelling story shone through the little dirt there was lol.

I also cannot recommend most of Naomi Novik's work enough either. In particular I would recommend Spinning Silver (Uprooted too but that's wildly more popular and you might have already read it!!).

SUMMARY: Miryem is the daughter and granddaughter of moneylenders, but her father's inability to collect his debts has left his family on the edge of poverty--until Miryem takes matters into her own hands. Hardening her heart, the young woman sets out to claim what is owed and soon gains a reputation for being able to turn silver into gold. When an ill-advised boast draws the attention of the king of the Staryk--grim fey creatures who seem more ice than flesh--Miryem's fate, and that of two kingdoms, will be forever altered. Set an impossible challenge by the nameless king, Miryem unwittingly spins a web that draws in a peasant girl, Wanda, and the unhappy daughter of a local lord who plots to wed his child to the dashing young tsar. But Tsar Mirnatius is not what he seems. And the secret he hides threatens to consume the lands of humans and Staryk alike. Torn between deadly choices, Miryem and her two unlikely allies embark on a desperate quest that will take them to the limits of sacrifice, power, and love. Channeling the vibrant heart of myth and fairy tale, Spinning Silver weaves a multilayered, magical tapestry that readers will want to return to again and again.

Her prose is always immaculate, vividly descriptive but succinct enough to keep the story going at a driving pace. She always writes like the most compelling female POV characters, to me; driven and complex without falling into the trap of being ~so special uwu~ or ~angry murder girlie >:(~ which I feel so many authors end up flattening their FPOV characters into!! She is absolutely masterful at taking common ideas/tropes and turning them on their heads/fleshing them out in unique and interesting ways.

Lastly, I have also been reading through a bunch of MXTX's danmei series LOL. I haven't finished Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation so I can't quite give a coherent account yet but I have been enjoying it so far. What I can say is I like how conversational and silly her style is even while tackling gruesome and fairly problematic concepts, and I very much love the sweeping and single-minded focus the love interests always have on one another. She also is very good at writing unreliable narrators whose perspectives you don't really understand are unreliable until the end of the narrative, and it makes you fonder of them for all their self-doubt and strength in the face of hardships they try to downplay.

[thevelaryons]

Alyn x Ships (aka his one true love)

All he wants in return for the price of reconciliation is ships:

Ser Vaemond’s sons Daemion and Daeron took their claim to the council in King’s Landing. When the Hand and the regents ruled against them, they wisely chose to accept the decision and be reconciled with Lord Alyn, who rewarded them with lands on Driftmark on the condition that they contribute ships to his fleet.

— Fire & Blood, Under the Regents

He doesn’t like sharing:

The royal fleet—comprised of the eight new warships and some twenty older cogs and galleys—was nowise large enough to accomplish this, so the Hand wrote to Driftmark, instructing the Lord of the Tides to gather “your lord grandsire’s fleets and put them under the command of our good uncle Gedmund, so that he may open the sea roads once again.”

This was no more than Alyn Velaryon had long desired, as the Sea Snake had before him, though when he read the message the young lord bristled and declared, “They are my fleets now, and Baela’s monkey is more suited to command them than Nuncle Gedmund.”

— Fire & Blood, Under the Regents

It’s noteworthy because he doesn’t mind sharing his wife, but is very reluctant when it comes to his ships:

In the end Ryndoon allowed that the Velaryon fleet might pass, for a price. He wanted three ships, an alliance writ on sheepskin and signed in blood, and a kiss. Oakenfist gave him the three least seaworthy ships in his fleet, an alliance writ on parchment and signed in maester’s ink, and the promise of a kiss from Lady Baela, should the “Queen” visit them on Driftmark.

— Fire & Blood, Under the Regents

Alyn seems to never react in anger when anyone insults him (eg. regarding his bastardy), but he does act in a hostile manner when they try to take his ships away:

As the great war fleet passed through the Gullet, Ser Gedmund sent over Blackbean to Lord Alyn’s flagship, Queen Rhaenys, with a letter authorizing him to take command of the Velaryon squadrons, “so that they may benefit from his many years of experience.” Lord Alyn sent him back. “I would have hanged him,” he wrote to Ser Gedmund, “but I am loath to waste good hempen rope on a bean.”

— Fire & Blood, Under the Regents

Even stepping down from the position of Lord Admiral doesn’t bother him as long as he still gets to have his ships:

To appease Lord Peake and his supporters, Gedmund Peake the Great-Axe was named lord admiral and master of ships (it was said that Oakenfist was more bemused than angry, and declared that the choice was a good one, as “Ser Gedmund loves paying for ships, I love sailing them”).

— Fire & Blood, The Lysene Spring and the End of Regency

This quote speaks for itself:

Lord Corlys Velaryon had made nine famous voyages on his Sea Snake, it will be recalled. Lord Alyn Oakenfist would make six, upon six different ships. “My ladies,” he would call them.

— Fire & Blood, Under the Regents

[writer-somewhat]

This is an index of the many, many guides created by the Fountain Of Knowledge also widely known as @inky-duchess. However I decided to organize and revise to share, after seeing one ask about whether or not there was a compilation.

Also, I had to breakdown the list over multiple posts due to Tumblr's constraints, so I have added a handy list with each part.

Table of Contents

Part One Part Two ⬅ You Are Here Part Three

Character Creation

Appearance - Character Traits - Unlikeable Characters

Clothing & Accessories

Jewels Tiaras Part 1 - Tiaras Part 2 - Jewellery - Coronet Beauty Hair - Cosmetics & Makeup Men Headwear - Fashion - Clothes - Uniforms Women Headdresses Part 1 - Headdresses Part 2 - Headwear - Gowns General Dressing Your Monarch - The Suit - Footwear - Peasant Clothes Clothes By Era Regency Fashion - Renaissance Gowns - Victorian Fashion - Edwardian Fashion Clothes By Culture Middle Eastern - Celt - Native American/Indigenous - African Traditional - Asian Traditional - Russian Court Gowns

Writing People

Kings - Queens - Princes - Princesses - Male Consorts Heirs & Spares - Mistresses - Bastards - Ladies In Waiting Ambassadors - Wards & Fostering - Servants - Royal Guards

Court and Courtiers

Surviving Fun & Games Male Court Positions Part 2 Female Court Positions Monarch's Council What Nobles Do

Big Happy(?) Family

Writing a Royal Family Part 2 Ottoman Harem Great Houses (19th-20th Century) Russian Nobility Medieval Household

Etiquette

Courting - How To Dress - Balls - Tea - A Day At Court - Court Etiquette

A Day In The Life Of...

Royalty - Queens - Princesses - Noble Ladies - Courtiers

How to be Social

Tis The Season Debutante Ball Balls Hosting a Society Dinner Food & Drink Letters & Correspondence Going Hunting Gestures

Court Archetypes

The Good King The Bad King The Good Queen The Bad Queen The Princess The Prince The Male Mistress The Advisor The Mentor The Pretender The Dynasty The Dethroned Royals The Courtiers Ladies-In-Waiting

[memoirsofphangoriaofficial]

{GREY COURTIAN INFO DUMP}

Lord: Fiddellier, The Ironformed

Region: Valierne

Soul Servant: Sliverknight, Hischbael

Current Court Master: Artephin Giel

Current Royal Mage: Stetsire Hignguard

Magich theme: Metal

Symbols: Swords, Military, Armour, shields, Hawks, knights, marble statues

Colours allowed to be worn: (grey must be worn) Black, Golds, Any shade of Grey, brown, white, cream

Rank: High Court

Attire: Military Suits, Military Hats, belts, holsters, badges, long dramatic coats, oversized collars, small pieces of armour, epaulettes, shorter tied up hairstyles, gloves, tends to hold swords even in informal situations, Heavily Regency Era inspired, Tends to be very orderly and very well tailored. Uniforms are commonly worn in casual situations.

Physical appearance: grey, blond, white and black hair, pale skin (even duller) , must have grey eyes (can be different shades), taller average height than other courts (except pale), Usually has muscular statuesque physique, broad shoulders.

Common jobs: infantry, generals, Cavalry (police) tacticians, blacksmiths, tinkerers, mechanics

The Grey Court is the third of the High Courts, ruled by The Grey Lord, a steadfast stoic god of the art of weaponry and armoury. silvery blond hair flows like a cape behind him, face shielded by a iron mask, cold. Unfeeling in appearance. He is oppressive in look from his large frame, covered with an overwhelming cape, to his large hands covered by hefty leather gloves. He is never seen acting too brash, nor expressive. He is a foundation of stoic unmoving strength, a figure of grounded pride and loyalty, sword in hand, eye on the fight to be had, determined. Some have whispered that he isn’t just a statue behind closed cathedral doors. He has been rumoured to be rather outburst-prone and rage filled. His calm stoicism flipped on the dime to a fiery, passionate wail of anger. But this could just be apocryphal. His people hold this ideal of emotionless stoicism to high regard, their lord being the figurehead of said ideology. There is no place for such a rumour of emotional for him nor his people. This, in turn, is their biggest flaw. Idealizing this uncanny image of their people being unfeeling, zephyrs of Justice and order, thinking that their emotion muddies their judgment, causes their foundation to crack

in many places due to that repression. But they soldier on despite it. Just like their lord. Despite their uncomfortable cast moulding, they are reliable people. Tough. Strong willed, never back down from what they must do. You will be hard pressed to find a grey courtier who would back down from what they promise to do and what they hold most true.

This stubbornness does aid their strong, almost divine military. They are the bastion of Militial exports and ideology in phangoria. It is an unspoken truth that all other courts look to the Grey lord and his court for guidance and order when it comes to any war or military issues. There is an almost religious, artful way that they treat the idea of battle and war. The sword is not just a weapon it is an extension of the self. A partner to dance with. It is obvious when you see the beautiful way their sword spells are casted. It truly is art. Armoury IS their culture. Grey courtiers often get passes to bring swords into places other courtiers cannot, wear pieces of heavy armour despite having no purpose and in dance, their moves are as if to mimic drills.

The Grey and Navy Court often share seats when it’s comes to their military. One of the land. One of the ocean. Their ideals and economy definetly bleed into eachother at times and their lords are particularly fraternal in nature from an outside perspective. Much of their inflow of wealth comes from sharing their infantry with other courts. Generals being posted to other courts, infantry sectors being hired for specific jobs, so on so forth.

They do not only use their magich and influence for military. They are the biggest exporters and manufacturers of mechanical production and engineering. Factories, functioning machinery, new technology for the courts mainly come from the Grey court, another high valued asset that funnels wealth into the Grey courtian Pocket. The Haugiel steam train wouldn’t function nor exist if not for the Grey court, their spells and mechanical exports creating the thing that allows phangorians to fast travel at all. Even simple little metal parts like doorknobs, hinges, tools and cutlery can be often exported from the Grey court.

Region: Valierne (vah-leer-nn) is known for their sharp, cloud piercing mountain ranges. Cold, striking and grim landscapes that reach for the heavens. Pine trees and snow cover the landscapes, never a truly sunny day. It is often cloudy with a grey look to the world. But don’t let that fool you that their cities are sad and cold. Rather the opposite. Warm, bustling towns filled with hearth ovens and warmly lit streets. The cities are often built around and inside the mountains, incorporating the terrain to mend into their cities. Not many cities are built on flat, plane grounds. Their architecture could be said to be rather Nordic in look. A mix of Victorian gothic and old Nordic. Deep dark woods with logs as pillars. They are immensely imposing but warm on the inside

[folklauerate]

20 questions for fic writers

thanks for the tag @bad-surprise and @ladykettlechips

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

71 under my name and a few on anon!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

796,982 which is kind of insane to think about. I started writing creatively for the first time in years in January of 2022. To have published this much is kind of crazy to think about. I'm likely going to hit 800k this year which is... Just wild. Lol.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The vast majority of my fic Bridgerton! I've written a two for The Rings of Power (Haladriel), one for Shadow and Bone (Darklina), and one for The Hunger Games (Everlark). I have plans for a few more Haladriel and Darklina :)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

(NOTE: I actually have never looked at my fics by kudos, I only know the set up is the most kudos'd one because well it's over 1k and none of my other fics are. So going through this was interesting!)

The Set Up — My Kathony royals au where Anthony is the King of England and Kate is a world famous actress. This is my most popular fic by far, I'm not sure how it ended up that way! It's a mind boggling amount of kudos (1,769 as of right now) and I know a lot of folks have much larger kudos counts, and it's hardly the most kudos'd in the fandom lol, but it's pretty big for me and I'm not sure if I'll write something else that'll get more lol. I do love this fic a lot, it feels like they're my own characters and that's likely because I've taken plenty of liberties and whatnot. Anyway. I could do talk about it for ages so I'll move on!

Hold Onto You -- A oneshot of Anthony holding babies--his own and his siblings. It was one of the first things I ever wrote for the fandom! Looking back it's a bit of foreshadowing for how I started to write lol--it was a pretty long oneshot written in less than a day which I've done multiple times since then. I haven't revisited this one in a while and don't even know if I can--writing regency is not my strong suit and my earlier writing is still hard for me to read these days lol.

leave the light on — A twoshot where Kate and Anthony are roommates and fall in love. It's set in NYC and is very rom-com-y! It has some of my favorite things to write; domesticity, people growing with one another and around one another, descriptions of the sky, descriptions of the subway, descriptions of NYC, a big wedding, a love confession. I recently finished it lol! I'm actually surprised this is up there!

Office Hours — I wrote this in September of last year in an attempt to get better at writing smut! I actually posted this on anon first because it felt too revealing to post this lol. I was actually really uncomfortable writing smut back then and I think I've improved a lot since then. The response was wild, I really was just so in the weeds with this fic that I couldn't even tell if it was hot or not lol.

lost in your current like a priceless wine— this is my prof au! And an age gap au :) writing this was wild and special. It was a lot of texting Kara and being so very thoroughly enveloped and possessed with this idea that was taking shape. I wrote this over countries and continents and on planes. I wrote all 40k of it in far less than a month and just! I dunno! It was so immersive. It's one of my favorite things I've written. It's crazy it was just this year.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! Lol that being said--I have quite a backlog right now. Responding to comments takes a lot of energy and time from me and I usually figure that people want me to write fic as opposed to responding to comments. I do want to say that I honestly sincerely appreciate every comment. I think all fic writers do. We love hearing what you loved and love hearing your thoughts! I'm sure my not responding to them is likely not encouraging so I'm sorry. Know that I want to respond to them and I am quite literally in the process of doing so right now lol. If you commented on Bridgerton, Actually (my Love, Actually AU from last year) then I've been responding to you lol!

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This fic isn't finished but my daddy warned me about men like you lol!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'm a sucker for a happy ending! I'm not sure what my happiest ending is, but the vast majority of fics have a happy ending :) Feel free to lmk what you think the happiest ending is.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yes. I've gotten some really inane hate comments that are just... dumb and easy to brush off. I've also gotten really intense hate comments that are so long they've required multiple comments, with people reposting exactly what they wrote after I deleted it. It's been really tough to deal with and I think I have some mild anxiety around comments in general as a result. Anyway, it's tough! I think hate comments tend to stick around the most in my brain and so I do appreciate all the nice comments because the gut clench from negative ones never really goes away :,)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do indeed write smut! I'm not really sure if I can describe what "kind" or how you can tell what your kind of smut is? I write plenty of dirty talk and smut with and without feelings. In general, I think that smut does need to do something for the story if it's in a fic with plot--if it's a fic that's just smut then it doesn't really matter. If it's a fic with plot, I like to make sure the smut actually helps the plot along and works to carry the reader through what the characters are feeling and their journeys.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven't but I will enjoy adding celebs or pop culture things in fics!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeah.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope but if anyone ever wants to, lmk! Translation is an art form and tricky and time consuming and I'm happy to work with anyone who wants to :)

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I have and I have LOVED doing it!!!!! I was so thrilled to write the West Wing AU with Rama, whose Tumblr @ I simply cannot find, and @grantairesbottle and I wrote in our perfect park together! Both AUs will be getting follow-up fics :) I truly adore both of their work and getting to write with two dear friends and incredible writers was just so lovely. Even more fun than that was just getting to freak out over this shared idea together! It was just such a lovely joint venture.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I could not pick one! I love James/Lily from Harry Potter, Katniss/Peeta from The Hunger Games, and Kate/Anthony from Bridgerton. I'd honestly say they're my OTPs! I love them so, so much. I've read so many Everlark and Jily fics growing up, too, those I've had for so long. It's kind of hilarious how those three have so much in common, like it's not like I went around looking for ships like that but it just happens. You like what you like, I suppose :)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I honestly do want to finish all of them but I don't think I'll finish my Gilmore Girls AU, simply because the characterization is so far off from what I think or how I understand those characters now.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Creating really immersive worlds through specific details. Doing research to make worlds lived in. I write a LOT of modern AUs for a book/show that takes place in regency England so I think world-building is one of my biggest strengths. Being able to transport characters into new worlds and understanding how they'd respond to that specific world and situation of the fic is another strength. I think my banter is pretty good? I also like to think I have a pretty good pulse on what my audience will like and what seems to be the thing du jour in the fandom. I usually don't end up writing to it lol but this is a strength as a reader, I'd say, not as a writer.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

PATIENCE lol! If I spent more time perfecting, editing, and letting things percolate, I think my works would all be better for it. Instead, I largely write and write and write and then hit publish the moment I'm done. With a few fics (specifically the royals au) I will have someone beta for me and then I at least have another level of editing and another pair of eyes for a vibe/gut check before I publish. I do think, however, that if I was brave enough to actually face my work and sit and edit, it would all be better in general. I'd also then be able to finish a fic before posting, which I've simply never done.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I do plenty of this for Bridgerton fic because I usually try and include Marathi or Hindi for Kate and her family. Idk if i'd count it as another language but it is another language in the sense that it's not English!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter lol! I wish I still had my old HPFF fics :,,) that website sadly went down and I don't know how to use the wayback machine to find that. But yeah!

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh, I couldn't pick just one! The Set Up is def one. I've done a lot of work with world building and research for that one. Sweet Like Honey is another favorite fic. I wouldn't even say that it's really a great example of those characters because I did a lot of work to bend things to make stuff work for this particular situation. I maintain that it's true to the characters for this specific situation which is a p bonkers one. I mean, I wanted a step-father fic so I wrote one! It turned into something a bit more involved. lost in your current like a priceless wine is another fav. This one is just... it's special to me. It was really different from the other fics being written at the time and I hadn't seen or read an age gap like that for these two or a fic where they don't have that initial bickering/fighting vibes, which was a result ofc of Anthony being a bit older and the characterization I gave him for the AU, so it felt really scary putting it up for people to read. The response was really overwhelming and wonderful and so kind. That fic also marks a sort of turning point in my own writing, for me at least. I think I got braver after that one.

Thanks for the tag! I hope this is fun or interesting to read :) tagging @grantairesbottle @amalinwrites @somethingclearandtrue @tinacentury and Rama whose @ is not coming up !! Also tagging anyone who would like to do this :)

[callsign-bunnie]

A Dance Of Hearts - Chapter 4 - Regency AU

It would only be a week’s travel from there to the Drodorian border, then a few days in a village called Winterwick, which was on the border of Drodora. There, they would rest and refill supplies before continuing on to the town of Antalon, which was right next to the King’s Village. 

--

Horangi sighed and rubbed at his shoulder as he took up the reigns, meant to take over the cart while Miriam slept in the back. He hated this bodice he was meant to wear, having ideas of ripping it off and throwing it in the river they were currently riding parallel with. 

It would only be a week’s travel from there to the Drodorian border, then a few days in a village called Winterwick, which was on the border of Drodora. There, they would rest and refill supplies before continuing on to the town of Antalon, which was right next to the King’s Village. 

That’s where they were to pick up Prince Lucas, supposedly, and then they would ride back. The travel back would be a bit longer, as they were supposed to stop more frequently, to give bandits and assassins less of a chance, though Horangi doubted they would be much of a problem.

“Kätzchen,” Koenig started, startling Horangi out of his thoughts. 

Horangi started to drive the cart, frowning. “Yes?”

“Do you… completely trust Miriam?” Koenig asked, his tone sounding hesitant. 

Horangi only frowned more. What an odd question. “No… But I don’t distrust her. Why?” He glanced at Koenig, who appeared to almost be playing with his fingers. 

Koenig sighed. “I question this… quest. She said the King does not wish to have his royal guard know, but… why? Would this not be a quest better suited for the King’s Guard? He has his own mercenaries. Why is he hiring a dressmaker to go and retrieve something as valuable as Prince Lucas?”

Horangi furrowed his brows. “I don’t… I don’t know. I wish I did.” He murmured and sighed. “But, I also know that King Alejandro makes odd decisions, sometimes.”

“Miriam gave us no proof to indicate that Prince Lucas was real, either…” Koenig sighed. “I’m not accusing her of bad intentions, I am simply… suggesting that you consider all of her potential intentions.”

“Why would she lie? What would she gain? Why would Miriam care that Prince Lucas is marrying the King of Laupin?” Horangi shook his head. 

“What are her feelings on Fae?” Koenig tilted his head. “Elves?”

Horangi paused. “She despises them.” He mumbled, understanding where Koenig was going with this.

Laupin wasn’t… as Fae friendly as Artra was, but they were more sympathetic than the Red Kingdom and Artemea. Leagues more than Sylmea and Nehelune. It was known that Fae could find refuge in Laupin, though they would give them up if they were being pursued for committing crimes. 

Then, there was the myth of how they came to have shadow powers to begin with… 

It was said that Ozul, who was a great Tyrant before he became God of Darkness, was in love with Laena, a mortal in the Old Kingdom of Terth, which Ozul led. 

Laena was known to be one of Artemilia’s most loyal followers, honoring her before even honoring her own life. She was also quite beautiful and kind… The myths that Horangi had read had always made a point of saying that to simply be around her was to love her. They had even, while scorning the King, pitied Ozul, saying that it was only natural he should fall in love with her.

But, she followed the Moon God, Artemilia. Ozul had long been cursed by Artemilia for being a cruel and violent leader. 

So, he banned worship of Artemilia, so she would turn away from the God and to him, instead, and asked her to marry him and be his wife. However, she refused, claiming that even if he had banned worship of her most beloved god, she could not love a violent alpha, such as himself.

He forced her to marry him, instead, as he could since he was king. And on their wedding night, after their consummation, which was said to be so violent, it dyed the sheets red, she killed herself with poison. It was an awfully painful poison and as she was dying, while Ozul held her, she cursed his kingdom. 

He could remember the words that each myth had stated, so clearly. ‘You have scorned my beloved God, Artemilia. You have taken my love by force. You have so violently sealed our marriage. With my dying breaths, I will take myself from you by force. And with myself, I shall take the light from your kingdom. Neither moonlight nor sunlight shall pass through your kingdom, until the pain and guilt and fear should swallow you whole. You shall live your life in complete shadow.’ And so, Ozul became darkness itself. 

His Kingdom was thrown into obscurity and it was said he wandered the forest until his death, his love’s blood which she choked up still on his chest and hands.

Centuries later, the founder of Laupin, who was named… well, Laupine Camran, apparently. Horangi wasn’t sure he believed that. Anyway, Laupine Camran wanted to protect his Kingdom from the surrounding Kingdoms. This was before the Silver Empire, apparently, and as Laupin was the centermost Kingdom, they had much to fend off.

So, he sought out Ozul. Laupin was said to sit in the middle of the ruins of his kingdom. As such, he knew that if Ozul was still wandering the forests- Though now that Horangi thought about it, wouldn’t he have been long dead???

Horangi didn’t grow up with these myths. Likely someone from Laupin could tell the story better… Horangi was not this person.

Regardless, Laupine sought out Ozul and apparently he found him among the ruins of an old castle, weeping into some stones. 

Laupine begged Ozul to help him. To guide him and find a better way to protect their kingdom from the surrounding kingdoms. As such, Ozul blessed him, and gave him the shadows.

It casted Laupin into a permanent dark winter, but they were protected. And, it worked. Even now, the shadows are hard to fight… 

“Kätzchen? You’ve been silent.” Koenig spoke up and Horangi shook off his musing, noting just how dark it was around them. He’d admit, after thinking about the myths… He found himself shivering in the darkness.

Or maybe it was the light snow which had started to fall, coating the ground around them. The moon reassured him, slightly, big and full in the sky. Horangi sighed. “I was thinking… There are quite a few people who do not want Laupin to rejoin the empire…”

“There is. I imagine your friend, Miriam, might be one of them.” Koenig nodded. “There are… rumors that if King Phillip does not manage to strike a marriage alliance, he will not rejoin the empire willingly. Prince Lucas may be their last resort.”

Horangi glanced back at Miriam, who appeared to still be asleep. “I do not believe she’d do something this elaborate. As you said, she’s just a dressmaker. She travels a lot, perhaps King Alejandro thought a dressmaker might be the best cover in order to travel back? Who would suspect Prince Lucas to be traveling with a dressmaker?”

Koenig paused and then nodded. “You have a point, Kätzchen. I suppose you may be right. I hope that I am wrong.”

Horangi shook his head. So did he. He had no doubt of what would happen to Prince Lucas if Koenig was right… The only option would be death. And then, Horangi would never be able to return to the Red Kingdom. 

He’d have to run again.

But, he also knew that if Koenig was right… Someone would need to stop Miriam. “We’re going to keep riding with Miriam.” Horangi murmured. “I do not want to believe you are right. So, we shall continue to ride with her.”

Koenig was silent for a moment before nodding. “I understand, Kätzchen.” 

Horangi nodded before going silent and continuing to ride. 

-

Around the third day, Horangi was starting to get bored. Neither Koenig, nor Miriam, were particularly talkative on the ride. So, when he was not driving, he started to find ways to entertain himself, often sitting in the back of the cart and using a bit of charcoal he made by himself during one of their meals, and sketching on the inside of his skirts.

He hadn’t worn a dress in ages, though this one was lighter and meant to be able to be worn during combat. The last time he’d worn a skirt was his wedding night, if he remembered correctly. 

It was… a lot less pleasant than he remembered. A lot more restrictive. He liked the tunics and pants that the knights wore. Even the leather armor was slightly better. 

Right now, he was sketching a rather large tree, without leaves because it was winter time. “Horangi!” He heard his name called by Miriam, and so he climbed up into the front. 

“Yes?”

Koenig was in the back of the cart, asleep. He’d been trying to stay awake when Horangi was, but he looked close to collapsing and so Horangi had ordered him to go to sleep. It had… worked better than Horangi had expected. 

Miriam sighed. “Take the reins. I want to check the back for something.”

Horangi nodded and did as told, taking the reins and continuing to drive. They stopped, often, for food and to let the horses rest, but other than that… it was nothing but traveling. 

He jumped when the cart suddenly jostled and then Koenig was dropping beside him. “You didn’t sleep long.” He acknowledged, though Koenig only shrugged. 

“Miriam!” Horangi called back to the alpha, who only hummed in response. “Will we be trading the cart for a carriage? I doubt the Prince may want to travel so open like this.”

Miriam simply laughed. “Yes, we will. King Alejandro has already ordered for us to have a cart when we arrive.”

“Perfect.” Horangi nodded and sighed, relaxing. He blushed when Koenig touched his leg and then Koenig was leaning down.

Koenig leaned close to his ear. “You smell good,” he murmured and then he was jerking back and laughing as Horangi whacked his ribs. “I was complimenting you!”

“I thought you had something important to say.” Horangi huffed. “You can save your compliments.”

“I thought it was important.” Koenig shrugged and chuckled. “You know, I was thinking… We may be able to shorten our trip to the border, if Miriam is fine with stopping in a different town.”

“Oh?” Horangi frowned. “How?”

“Well, when we were to march to Drodora, they told us about a pass across the river which will shorten us to arriving in Semworth,” Koenig answered, shrugging. “Which should put us only four days from Antalon.” 

Miriam leaned against the wall of the cart behind them. “I suppose that sounds alright. That would shave a few days off. The shorter our trip, the better. The less likely we are to be attacked by bandits or assassins.”

Horangi nodded and gave Koenig the reins so he could steer. He yawned, feeling a little tired, and so he just curled up to Koenig and dozed off.

-

When Koenig had said that he could shorten their trip, he hadn’t expected the trip to literally only be another day before they were arriving in Semworth. He was glad, though, wanting out of the cart. 

Miriam found them a room at an inn before basically abandoning them for the tavern. That was alright, because as soon as she was gone, Koenig had Horangi pressed against the wall of the room, mouthing over his neck.

“You’re so eager.” Horangi teased, though his breath hitched when he was bit, softly. “Koenig,” he warned, earning a soft breathy whine in response. 

Koenig gathered up Horangi’s skirts, using his leg to press against Horangi and making Horangi gasp, softly, before rolling his hips against his leg, moaning from the soft pleasure it caused. Already, he knew he was slick and he moaned when Koenig bit him. 

“Let me pleasure you…” Koenig murmured, pausing against Horangi’s neck. “Please?”

“What if Miriam comes back?” Horangi asked, though he was mostly teasing. He reached up, gently scratching over Koenig’s back. 

“Fuck Miriam.” Koenig growled, the sound rolling through his chest.

Horangi laughed and closed his eyes, humming before answering. “You’re so much more confident around me than anyone else…” He pushed Koenig away, slightly, so he could see his face. “Am I special?”

“Maybe.”

Koenig had gone dark red, looking away from Horangi. Horangi leaned forward and kissed him, softly, before pulling away. “No. Sadly.”

Koenig furrowed his brows. “Why not? I will… obviously respect your answer, but-”

“Because.” Horangi leaned back against the wall. He went silent, so they could hear the sounds of singing and dancing below them. “You are a big alpha. I have no doubts they will hear. I do not wish to be anyone’s dinner entertainment.”

“I have other things I could do. That they won’t hear.” Koenig got a cocky little half grin on his face and Horangi shook his head, his mind reminding him of the alpha who had tried to kill himself in order to not go outside. Koenig was an enigma. 

“Where did your mask go?” Horangi asked, glancing around the floor for it. Koenig then held it in front of his face, appearing to have bunched it in his fist. “Ah, I see… Even still, sweet boy, we must sadly refrain. We are on a quest.”

Koenig looked disappointed, but he did not protest. Instead, he leaned forward and buried his face in Horangi’s hair. “You have drawn me in so easily. You have made me addicted to you… How cruel…”

“Sweet boy…” Horangi soothed, scratching over his back, again. “Trust me, that it was not my intention.” He murmured, though his chest felt quite warm. You have made me addicted to you… This new feeling… of being craved as an omega… He knew, back in his old life, that many had likely wanted him. But, no one had been able to want him so up close before…

“I crave you, herrin…” Koenig murmured. 

Horangi paused and then he felt guilt. He wondered if Koenig would feel the same, were he not forced to be around him. “You are a caged sparrow. I suppose you would crave the hand that provides food to the birdcage.”

Koenig went silent and pulled away. “I am sorry?”

“I own you.” Horangi pushed him away and then moved away. “If the circumstances were different, you would not think much of me.”

“That’s not true…” Koenig looked almost hurt. “You do not even act as if you own me.”

“Because I do not wish to.” Horangi muttered. Then, he paused. Well, he didn’t wish to. Who would know? He could say, when he returned, that Koenig had escaped. What was he to do?? “I release you. You’re not under my ownership anymore.”

He went to the bed and sat on it. Well, one of the beds, there were two. “If you choose to leave, I’ll… tell Miriam that you left and we’ll figure it out.”

Koenig watched him and then shook his head, coming over and sitting on the floor in front of Horangi. “I do not wish to leave, Kätzchen…”

Horangi frowned and looked at him. “Why not? You were a war spoil! I am letting you be free.”

“I am choosing to stay.” Koenig shrugged. “I… want to try to build something with you and I understand that the circumstances are unconventional and odd, but… I want to. Please do not make me leave.”

Horangi looked at Koenig, watching him look down and fidget with his hands. “I do not understand… You… Wish to build something with me?”

“Yes. I do. I don’t know what, yet, but I want to build whatever I can with you…” He leaned forward and laid his head on Horangi’s lap. 

Horangi relaxed and closed his eyes, petting over Koenig’s hair. “I will not make you leave, sweet boy.” He promised. “You can stay with me.” 

“Thank you, Horangi…” Koenig nodded and looked up at him. “I like you better in your Knight’s clothes, by the way.”

“I think I’ve grown too accustomed to them.” Horangi laughed. “I prefer them, as well. This bodice hurts.”

“Let me take it off you. Please?” Koenig sat up, again, and Horangi nodded, letting him. 

So, Koenig sat up more. Then, he was reaching around and undoing the laces of Horangi’s bodice. Horangi relaxed as it loosened, letting out a breath. It wasn’t too restrictive, but it still was tight enough to be annoying. 

Then, Koenig did something that surprised him, reaching under Horangi’s blouse and scratching over where the cloth left indentations. “Oh…” He moaned and melted into Koenig, closing his eyes. It felt fantastic, almost euphoric. 

Koenig laughed, softly and nuzzled his hair, again. “Feel good, Kätzchen?”

“Incredibly. Nevermind, you’re not allowed to leave.” Horangi huffed and shook his head. 

Koenig stopped scratching and he almost whined, before Koenig was looking around. “I’m starving…”

Horangi pulled the bodice completely off before nodding, not caring if anyone saw him just in a blouse. He had a giant alpha, he’d just tell Koenig to kick them, and he’d probably send them through a window. “I will go get us food. Just stay here.”

--

Whatever bullshit A/N I'm making

Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!

AU @the_pluto_828 @lieutenant-storm @bearbait-adventuress @the-snarky-dragon @thegodofsleep

Omegaverse @arwenprinses

[balladofthewhitehorse]

27 and 43 for England (or another character if you prefer!)

Thank you for the ask, Anon! And oh no, I’m totally down to write for England >:)

27: What would be the worst way for your character to die?

England’s died in a lot of ways in the past - so he’s rather well versed in what is and isn’t a pleasant (or at the very least, tolerable or quick) way to die. He’s been drowned, burned, stabbed, poisoned, strangled, choked…numerous ways, I can’t possibly write them all down. I think, the worse way for England to die would be to be stabbed in the back - he prides himself on being cautious, clever enough to sniff out a rat in his midst, and anyone that gets close enough to him to stab him in the back - well, England doesn’t even really want to consider this happening. He knows it can happen. It’s inevitable really, the nature of his existence being a contemptuous one - and an envious one too, with England having been bumped off by nobles (sour at him being so close to the king, such a dear and common fixture of the royal court, that they sought to slit his throat and leave him bleeding on the stone; They were always so stunned to see him walking about the next day, like nothing had happened at all). It stings his pride deeply when it happens, and so it’d be one of the worse ways for him to die in his own opinion; ‘Cos really, he ought to know better, shouldn’t he? Humiliating, in equal measure (in his own demented opinion), is dying from sickness. He does not want to be cowed by illness or injury, does not want to be doted on in his final hours only to croak it in the bedsheets. England would sooner perish than allow himself to be dependent on someone, and that is how Wales once caught him waddling around in a bout of a feverish fit, swaying and swinging his sword around at goodness knows what during the Regency Era and had to commandeer an old ornamental sabre just to get him back to bed.

43: What is your character insecure about?

Lots of things, but of course - he keeps that information to himself. For starters, England is insecure about a lot of things that wouldn’t really matter to the ordinary person - such as the way certain pictures or ornaments are kept on display, potential flagstones of things that he holds dear (for goodness’ sake, what if they find something to mock in that particular shade of puce one of his coffee mugs is in). He’s ridiculously self-conscious about how he presents himself as well, meticulous to a hysterical degree about the cut of his suits and how well ironed his shirts are. I think England cares a lot about how he presents himself - if only because England doesn’t think there’s anyway he can fix the things inside him. Better pretty himself up, if only to keep the illusion of his logic and his put-togetherness going; England is insecure, first and foremost about how he presents himself, and tends to exemplify this in the way he tries to control the things around him.

People. Outfits. Trinkets.

All of it, if only to pretend as if he’s still keeping his head above the water.

That he’s not the embittered, battered ship-wreck that he is. 

[ellynneversweet]

Aaaaand I’m done.

Okay. I’ll say that I liked this the best out of all the Bridgerton offerings so far: it made a genuine attempt to engage with the absolute nonsense Romancelandia setting rules already established in this universe and turn them into something cohesive. It almost works.

Everyone had real problems (except for Violet, who was just sort of…there) that weren’t things that could just be resolved if they would just talk out a stupid misunderstanding. Charlotte and George’s romance is genuinely unusual and quite touching, especially in its later stages. Lady Danbury as the fantasy version of an unhappily married woman turned wealthy independent widow is delightful. I like that they didn’t (by romance standards) sugarcoat the level of control a woman’s relatives and husband had over her life, or how precarious life without a good protector was. Some of the ways in which this was spelled out to the female characters (and thus, the audience) was a bit clumsy — this is their native culture, after all. They can and certainly should react to it in a variety of ways, but surprise at the degree of legal confinement they’re subject to comes across as stupidity, often.

Some of the costumes were hideous, some were great. Late baroque suits the brocade and ruffles bullshit of the Bridgerton Style Guide much better than the regency does. No one knows what to do with hats, but I really enjoyed the ladies in tricorns we got. (I love a good tricorn.) And there were some beautiful bergeres, which are another fave of mine.

It offers a cohesive explanation for why Charlotte is dressed in styles from twenty years ago, because she’s emotionally arrested in that era. It doesn’t make me forgive the lack of regency court dress in the Bridgerton-family centric seasons, because I desperately want to see that on screen. I actually think it could work. I know everyone hated it and the fashion plates of the era look a bit silly, but the silhouette is not dissimilar to a hanbok, if you squint? It could be done. And I bet those dresses could even be reworked to be regular going out dresses. If the panniers only added width to the sides, all you’d really have to do is re-sew the side seams into straight lines.

Violet should have been cut from this, frankly. George needed more screen time outside of Charlotte and his never ending leeches and ice baths. He’s an interesting character and the actors who played him were both genuinely good. We needed more sane George, because mad George is necessarily shown at an emotional remove from his thoughts and emotions. I’m not sure if having him be unstable so early was decided as a plan to explain away why Prinny isn’t a character in the main series and why Charlotte is so very prominent as the effective regent.

Also, we could have done with less horrible sex scenes between the Danburys. Once or twice, fine, but the rest could be easily telegraphed through Agatha’s post-rape bath and bitch sessions.

Um. I loved Reynolds, as I’ve said, and I’m sorry we didn’t get mature Reynolds in George’s household. I liked the variety of relationships shown. I don’t love how cold mature Charlotte is towards Brimsley — it seems horrible and disconnected from their early friendship. I don’t appreciate the way the narrative role Brimsley and Reynolds played necessarily cut out the existence and importance of ladies in waiting (and courtiers more generally). That annoys me, in a show that so heavily centres the lives of women. Lady Danbury’s relationship with Coral was good, though.

Edit: oh, and the timeline and travel distances involved made absolutely no sense at all. They all have magical tardis carriages. I nearly lost my mind when Reynolds complained about ‘riding all the way here’ when Brimsley had been using that same route as the walk for a small puppy every day. And, of course, the whole invitations for a royal wedding that starts in three hours thing.

Anyway. Scream away at me if you have thoughts.

[dhampiravidi]

Please Read Before Interacting! (RULES)

I’m a multimuse account. I play mostly OCs, plus a few canons.

This is a blog for people who are 18+. I write NSFW (smut, violence, alcohol) content on occasion. I’m 24.

Triggers: AI/robots or horror/eldritch themes!

All of my muses have multiple character forms, usually one per verse. Look in their headcanon tag (linked on the muses page).

I no longer tag smut.

Please trim your posts. If not, I might still write with you, just not follow. Long, uncut posts can give me anxiety.

If you get to the point where you want to block me for some reason, please tell me. I'd like to try & talk it out. Otherwise, just LMK so I'm not thinking something bad happened to you.

I can't interact with any other Rogue/Anna Marie's OR Eraserhead/Shota Aizawa's. I have 1 of each who I interact with & I can't imagine getting used to another. Sorry.

I frequently use "hon", "bruh", and/or "guy" to refer to people (singular or plural) in a gender-neutral way. LMK if those bother you at all.

If you don’t respond for 2+ months (including updates), I will unfollow. This doesn’t mean I won’t be open to interacting again. If we've been writing for a while & you need a break, just LMK & we can do something else when you're ready.

Here's a list of FCs I love to see!

Here's a link that leads to all of my D&D muses specifically!

assorted tags: memes // wishlist // muses // ooc content

mobile muse list under the cut:

Jayn: heir to a vast fortune, fighter. Verses: DC Comics, Royal/Regency, Queen of the South, Grishaverse, Western, Suits. generous, creative, faithful, loving, bossy, nosy. FC: Tessa Thompson.

Naela: she just wants adventure and love. Verses: canon GoT/ASoiAF, Rhaegar Lives AU, D&D. optimistic, honest, philosophical, careless, restless. FC: Tristin Mays.

Achilles: the Hellenic/Greek hero from The Iliad (canon). Verses: Mythology, Modern, Call of Duty, D&D, X-Men/Marvel. courageous, confident, quick-tempered, protective, moody. FC: Taylor Kitsch.

Jasmine: a young woman on her own. Verses: Marvel, Shadowhunters/TSC, The Covenant, John Wick/Assassins, D&D, Suits. practical, disciplined, overcritical, perfectionist, grudging. FC: Kat Graham.

Skadi: half-Jotun, half-Asgardian. Verses: Marvel, Call of Duty, D&D. compassionate, inventive, independent, blunt, distrusting. FC: Olga Kurylenko.

Oraia: daughter of Poseidon and Nebet-Het, goddess. Verses: Marvel, SPN, Urban Fantasy, The Old Guard, Pirates of the Caribbean, Shadowhunters/TSC, D&D. flirtatious, easygoing, sociable, impulsive. FC: Hannah John-Kamen.

Hestia: sweet, badass martial artist. Verses: X-Men/Marvel, Hunger Games. witty, lively, inquisitive, anxious, accepting. FC: Kristin Kreuk.

Rose: John Constantine’s space-time magician of a daughter (canon). Verses: DC Comics, The Mummy/historical, D&D. loyal, intelligent, protective, intuitive, hardworking, manipulative. FC: Antonia Thomas.

Aurelia: a Gryffindor who chose Slytherin. Verse: Harry Potter (Marauders or Golden Trio era). persuasive, amusing, loyal, protective, bossy, jealous. FC: Precious Lee.

Rela: Twi’lek Jedi. Verses: Star Wars, D&D. modest, curious, compassionate, eloquent, indecisive, responsible. FC: Rachi Sitra (or Gugu Mbatha-Raw depending on verse).

Zehara: the daughter of a Water Tribe father and a Fire Nation Colony mother. persuasive, adventurous, adaptable, compulsive, patronizing. Verses: Avatar: TLA, D&D. FC: Jhené Aiko.

Eugenia: Bonnie Bennett’s second cousin. Verses: Vampire Diaries. loyal, determined, practical, vengeful, secretive. FC: Kylie Bunbury.

Shayera: she's got wings & a mace. Verses: DC Comics, Historical. brave, loyal, adventurous, determined, compassionate, self-critical. FCs: Juliana Harkavy & Freema Agyeman.

Mu Lan [穆岚]: "my duty is to my heart." Verses: Regency/Bridgerton. restless, loyal, intelligent, outspoken, kind. FC: Thaddea Graham (& Ming-Na Wen when she's older).

on request, I can play:

Fantomex (X-Men canon; FC: Warren Christie)

Renée Michele LeBeau (OC daughter of Gambit from X-Men; FC: Janel Parrish)

Rhea Livia Agresta (OC shifter niece of Alan Deaton from Teen Wolf; FC: Jessica Sula)

Lady Gotham (personification of Gotham City; DC Comics; FC: Death - Marvel v Capcom)

Caleb Danvers (The Covenant canon; FC: Steven Strait)

[go-scottishgal14]

£16,000+++ being spent on the Harkles that should be going to wounded military people....two wankers in a suite...

Prince Harry and Meghan Markle will stay in luxury £2,000-a-night Presidential Suite complete with yoga mat, rain shower and 65in TV at 5* hotel for Invictus Games in Germany this weekend

By PAUL THOMPSON -- Daily Mail online...(edited by me, a very annoyed reader/poster).....

PUBLISHED: 16:23, 8 September 2023 | UPDATED: 16:36, 8 September 2023

Prince Harry’s popularity might be plunging but he will be on a high during his time in Germany for the Invictus Games as he will be staying in a sky-high Presidential Suite at a luxury hotel.

He is booked into a £2,000 night suite with stunning views across The Rhine and will be joined later in the luxurious residence next week by his wife Meghan.

The expansive suite on the 17th floor of the Hyatt Regency hotel in Dusseldorf will be his base for the next eight days.

On Saturday night he will launch the sports event for wounded and disabled military veterans and attend the week long event, dropping in to cheer of competitors in events such as archery, swimming and wheelchair rugby.

Staff at the five-star hotel – which boasts an expansive terrace overlooking The Rhine with a silver bubble shaped bar – were tight lipped about their VIP guest whose popularity in Britain has fallen to 32% from over 70% following his repeated swipes on the Royal family.

The hotel describes the accommodation as a 'premium' suite - with two 65-inch televisions, plush robes and even a yoga mat

The apartment-style suite includes a separate living area, kitchenette and a bathroom - complete with walk-in rain shower

A police motor cruiser has been parked near to the hotel in a show of security being beefed up ahead of Harry's arrival.

As the Games have been organised by the Bundeswher, the German military, there are also number of uniformed personnel around the hotel.

Members of the management team for the Games are booked into the hotel and Harry will be checking in when he arrives Saturday morning following his brief visit to the UK.

At the 2022 Games held in The Hague in Holland Harry and Meghan stayed in a Royal suite in the city's Hilton Hotel. Invictus management were also booked into the same hotel to that meetings could be held among the team.

His Presidential suite boast a king bedroom with panoramic views towards 250m high Rhienturm, a telecommunication tower that dominates the skyline of the German city.

The Presidential suite has a separate living area, kitchenette and a bathroom with a the bathroom boasting a walk-in rain shower.

The hotel describes the giant-sized 158sq m accommodation as a ‘premium suite’.

There are also two 65in TVs, one in the bedroom and the other in the living room.