❤i have absolutely no problem writing for gender neutral or male readers, I mostly write female readers because I have more experience in that field. but I have no problems with writing and makes requests of that type.
❤I write about everything: fluff, spicy, angst, , SFW. EXCEPT things that are too unpleasant like sexual abuse and that kind of thing.
What can I say? I am an obsessive and lonely poetic soul.
Imagine, one day you ask Wukong the following: "Wǒ de ài, in essence, are you the king of the monkeys on your mountain, or generally outside of it?" You asked. Bajie added, "I'd never thought of that." But strangely, Wukong was indignant.
The beads on the mian'guan (imperial crown) covered the emperor’s eyes and had spiritual meaning — so that he would “not be distracted by worldly temptations.” Since the emperor was also the supreme judge, this helped symbolize that he judged fairly, not based on appearances.
Additionally, the beads on the mian'guan were made of jade, a material only emperors could afford — a mark of their status. There were also 24 beads in total, 12 in the front and 12 in the back, symbolizing the 24 solar terms of the Chinese calendar. Overall, this crown equated the emperor with the Son of Heaven, 天子 (tianzi). (Sun Wukong claimed to be equal to Heaven itself.)
Oh, I just discovered this post and I love the symbolism in such simple details. In cultures like China, even clothing has meaning, and I appreciate that there are people who take the time to find out. Because something I've always liked is how Wukong's clothing suggests his level or hierarchy. It's something many ignore. And interestingly, in many versions, they use precisely these details. Like Wukong Reborn's outfit, come on! It says more there.
Am I crazy? Does anyone else notice these important details?
To be deprived of the use of one’s limbs is of little help to one in carrying out the work of government. If I could be cured of the disease of Naaman, I would wash seven times in Jordan, but I have found in the present age no Elisha who can heal me. It is not fitting that a hand so weak as mine should hold power when fear of Arab aggression daily presses upon the Holy City and when my sickness increases the enemy’s daring...I therefore implore you, having called together the barons of the kingdom of France, to send me seasoned commanders to strengthen the defenses of this realm. We stand ready to entrust any whom you might dispatch, that their swords may guard our Holy Places until the Lord in His mercy may grant me, for the sake of the anguish which I am enduring, that health of a body which I desire but cannot have.
— King Baldwin IV to Louis VII
Aere Perennius Chapt 45: Guy de Lusignan is out now!
"A queen fulfills her duty with nobility, but her true power lies in the love she gives to her people and her king."
Eleanor de Lumière, "The Sacred Queen of Jerusalem," wife of Baldwin
Since my childhood, duty and honor have been the pillars of my existence. At first, they safeguarded my family's dignity; later, when I was sent to the fortified convent—as was customary for young women destined for nobility and influence—they became my very essence. My past, my present, and my future belonged to God and the high clergy. Dignity, prudence, and devotion shaped every facet of my being.
Not only as a woman but as a person, I understood that God's plans are different from what one can foresee, that some destinies are more magnificent and blessed than others. I never imagined that I, a young noblewoman whose family possessed great wealth, vast lands, and financed the troops fighting in the sacred name of the Almighty, would end up with the crown of Jerusalem upon my head.
But neither riches nor power were the precursors of my destiny. Humility was the true promise of a blessed life—an existence marked by an honorable husband and a fruitful family. I, who grew up surrounded by monks and abbots, who recited sacred texts as naturally as I sang while playing in the courtyard, was shaped by art, history, and military conflicts. Every dawn and every dusk was a merciful gift from God.
And God always gave me more than I ever expected—not only wealth but the ability to understand the world around me. Perhaps, unknowingly, He prepared me for the cruelest battle of all.
Because even though I thought I was ready, I never truly was.
The soul and strength of a woman are threatened when she begins to love a man other than God. And not just any man, but one who was fully aware of his own mortality, his duty, and his faith.
His shadow was always beyond my reach. His eyes were like the sky after the storm, and when I looked at him, I felt as if I were gazing at the purest paradise.
But paradise is fleeting.
And when he left, everything within me was torn apart.
I died while still living. Every heartbeat became a hollow echo, every sigh an agony disguised as resilience. The crown grew heavier, the air colder, and the world lost its meaning without him in it.
I knew it was only a matter of time—that somewhere in the threads of destiny, my existence would lead me back to his side.
I never desired anything more than his love. I had it. And I let it go.
Now, only the echo of his memory remains—the shadow of his presence, the ephemeral line that tells the story of our love.
Who was I? Who am I?
A mere woman.
A queen.
A companion.
Some even called me a witch, a sorceress sent by the enemy. They said that because of me, the king perished.
But what do rumors, accusations, and punishments matter, if they could grant me just one more moment by his side?
If they could let me touch his face one last time?
If they could allow me to say his name once more, before it fades into an empty echo?
It's not a story as such, it just feeds my imagination.
He needs time. We all love reading explicit and steamy content from this man. But let's be honest, even though he's fallen in love thousands of times. On a more intimate and personal level, can you imagine how long it will take you as a mortal to get him to trust you? And I'm not talking about the courting, infatuation, and dating stages. I'm talking about the moment when two adults are intimate, and we both know the wounds and traumas Alucard carries within himself. Not only that, there's the fact that this is serious business. As a vampire, he's not just giving you his body for pleasure; you're supposed to be consummating an unbreakable bond.
He urgently needs a domestic life in the mountain plains. And yes, he does;
from the first season of Castlevania to the episodes in Castlevania Nocturna, every Alucard fan agrees that he desperately needed a blanket, a psychologist, a therapist. Now he's a tired old man. Perhaps falling in love thousands and countless times isn't enough due to his traumas and past. But right now, at this moment, I can't imagine anything other than his domestic life with his partner. And the fact that he would love to have children, I perfectly imagine him as a protective and obsessive father, knows that his children won't be normal. Now just imagine this half-human vampire, over 300 years old, with multiple skills, learned in the art of swordsmanship... Panic about carrying her babies—yes, it turns out wielding a sword with telepathy is easier than carrying and cuddling her babies. Imagine her stiff, trembling posture, her hands clutching the baby to her chest as she holds her breath. Amused by the situation, you question her; "Do you need help?" And he swears, and promises that he's handling it.
Something I've been reflecting on lately is how Wukong (in any version) evolves. If we look at the original novel, he evolves, and his journey from being a mischievous, arrogant, and chaotic demon monkey to a loyal follower and protector. Especially with his relationship with the Tripitaka Monk, since, unfortunately, it's like teaching a wolf to eat vegetables. As a demon, he was a slave to his instincts and impulses, it's admirable how he became the Buddha of War. If we talk about this fact in relation to you, that is, (YOU), The fact that he's now your hero, protector, or lover weighs heavily. Regardless of the version, after all, failing you or failing his master is the worst defeat for the Monkey King.
《 You were instructed to put out the candelabras but you also drew the long curtains and began closing the shutters until you heard Baldwin behind you.
“Not that one, beloved. Leave that one.”
You nodded and let the last window hold its careful blue moonlight and the room was thick in the night time dark once again. It was an image making your bones rattle from remembering your first night together.
Slowly, you approached the bed, becoming used to the thick black and you thought you'd find him standing like before but you reached the end of his bed with your touch still empty. It almost startled you when you felt your waist touched from behind once your body broke the rays of moonlight and he stayed in the dark to turn you into his embrace.
Your breath caught and you brought your lips immediately to the mouth of his mask for a kiss. He felt your hands returning to the edges of the silver veneer and he encouraged you now to slip it up further to free his lips from below after pulling away. Your approach was needful and it made his heart swell to feel you so eager to kiss his real mouth.
He had planned to wait until later in the night- perhaps much later until both of you were close to retiring to sleep but he wanted to try this now. As you both kissed, the feeling of your ragged breath upon him only stirring him higher, he removed the mask from his face entirely. Gently, as if distracting you now by his kiss, he placed his light silver mask into your hands carefully. He curved your fingers across the top to ensure your hands held it closely and you pulled away upon realizing.
Your eyes went down to look into your hands to try and comprehend what he'd just done. You turned his infamous, sterling disguise in your hands now. It felt like you'd been given a rare jewel seeing as it caught the light so beautifully, but the king turned your chin up with his gloved hand. Breathless already from the weight of the sentiment you asked him softly in hopes that he would step into the light,
“Your grace..?”
“No-” he said in the dark with his hands returning to your waist,
“Call me by my name. Say it then kiss me again, angel.”
You said his name for the first time with your lips shaking and your eyelids heavy in what you knew to be the first onsets of either lust or…..love. All that you knew now standing in the lone ray of the Holy moonlight was that you loved the sound of his voice away from the concealment of his mask and you told him just that by kissing him again. Just as he asked.
The king wrapped your hands around him after dropping the silver mask to the bed. He was careful not to reveal himself in the light, even though he felt you pulling him closer and closer during the kiss that began growing much faster than any you'd shared the night before. He then moved his mouth down, where he let his lips graze down your jaw to meet your neck.
For the first time, you mewled softly in delight with your blood feeling warmed to the hundreds for more. You bit your lip as he nipped and nuzzled, discovering small mental traces of what his face felt like against you as it grazed your skin. Your knee rose as he pulled you closer to him in the dark, letting the slit of your sheer nightgown fall down your thigh.
His hand curved around your knee, keeping your soft neck joined with lips all the while as his palm slid up your leg, traveling in slowness up and under your small clothes. When his hand bravely, somewhat lewdly, cupped against your ass, you grunted against him, feeling the act redden your cheeks somehow darker to feel him become this wanton.
“I want to see you.” He said after taking his first husbandly squeeze of your body in his hand.
“Lay down in the light…and reveal yourself for me to see.”
You remembered his words from earlier, and your heart rattled in your quaking chest, knowing he must have had this idea in mind for your night together all along.
“I want to see you.” You replied with your eyes closed, finally asking if he would reveal his face, your body trembling as his hand still shockingly wandered…to your liking.
“No, beloved. You're mine to see tonight. Lie down and show me my wife's beauty in the moonlight.”
You wanted to whine for more of his affection but his hands never left you as you lowered to his bed where that single ray of dim light enveloped your body- stretching just wide enough to touch both your shoulders. He stayed in the dark beside you, his breath deepening when your hands rose to unclasp the small hooks behind you that kept your gown fastened.
Slowly, as it fell from your shoulders, freeing your breasts and the smooth skin of your torso- Baldwin felt caught by the sight of your naked body for the first time. He wanted to reach out and touch you but he needed to see more. It looked angelic when you lifted your hips slightly to remove your underwear down your legs that you tried to hide from quivering.
His lip was bitten in the dark seeing you in full, and you turned your face, only seeing his dark shadow before his white silk hand reached into the light. He cupped your face, bringing it to the edge of the darkness where he kissed you openly with his mouth lapping against you, his shaking breath betrayed how heart-stopping it was to see your naked form.
“Your body is divine, do you understand?” He said amid your kiss that only made your skin chilled colder while being unclothed and you nodded to him, wanting now more than ever to be taken and bedded as his bride once and for all.
Softly, you told him during the break of your passion where you shared tender breath,
“Baldwin, please- I'm ready…”
He groaned from within his throat while cradling back of your head where your hair spilled between his gloved fingers,
“My dear-” He said hoarsely from the pleasure already brought by seeing you,
“Your virginity… is so important to me. You are pure and untouched like that of fallen snow. I will only claim you when I know that I cannot resist it any longer.”
You whined in his arms, clutching to him like only he had the air that could suffice your gasping lungs and his hand finally lowered upon you. He kissed you deeper as his palm cupped your breast, kneading and petting against the risen bud of your nipple.
“But I feel your hunger. I know that our time spent together in the dark this way leaves you so…sweetly athirst.”
You then felt his hand travel lower than you'd ever expected when his gloved fingers brushed across the sensitive, virgin skin of your sex. Your jaw fell slack, making him swallow a moan of his own to watch your first face of carnal, bodily pleasure. He gently opened your legs wider, making you look down to watch what he had planned for you but he continued with words whispered in your ears,
“I'll sate thee….with small pleasures in the nighttime to help…tame your yearning, my angel. When our time arrives to become one…I want you to know how to wait and how to savor each moment. I'll teach your body its patience just like this.”
You watched as gently he used two fingers to begin brushing your swollen clitoris in a small explorative circle. Your back arched but he quickly pulled your mouth to his where he kissed you with abandon. Your tongue swathed from your mouth so blindly from instinct to entice him and he repaid your eagerness in kind, flitting his own across your lips the same as your breathing hollowed.
You took a heavy breath, feeling as your kiss became broken, and he watched you tilt your head back to softly moan from his fingers rubbing so deliciously across you. You felt his breath trailing down your skin - warming you to comfort but chilling you in excitement.
Your hips bucked against his hand as you felt the sensations of his touch growing, and he said against your ear upon hearing the wetness of your arousal now becoming so erotically audible during the movements of his fingers,
“My beloved, you must learn to quell your body's wants. I want our time together in passion to be cherished. Breathe deeply and tell me your desires.”
You obeyed, feeling his kind nature slowly turning to such a sweet state of loving dominance, and you wetted your mouth, almost parched from the heavy breathing,
“I want you, my king.” You managed to say through such a strangled gasp.
One of your hands that had clutched his sheets rose with a brave impulse that began to search him. He welcomed this idea until he realized in the dark where exactly you'd planned to touch him. He grunted but then said in your ear before your perusing fingers found his waist.
“Remove your hand, Princess.”
You did as he asked, then looked at him with eyes that so sweetly begged to share this experience that was already berating your chest in feeling by the unrelenting rhythm of your heart. You returned your hand to the bed so reluctant and slow and then heard his whispered reprimand,
“You will not touch me until I've asked you to. And the only title I hold while your body calls for me in the dark is: your husband .”
He slowed his careful movements across your clit, softening the sweet pressure enough to hear your mouth whine for more. His mouth buried itself to your neck where he kissed your tender skin as he teased your building orgasm more with his pace slowing further and further to edge you nearer.
You felt his tongue grazing right above your collar, making your hips buck again to his small shows of desire when you were washed in intimacy and you heard as his voice rumbled in a low whisper against you,
“Ask for it, Princess. Beg for your pleasure. Beg and you'll always receive.”
Your back arched in response, feeling as though you'd never be the same after falling apart under merely his fingertips this way - something that only warned you of just how much was to come. You didn't want to be loud, not wanting the entire city to hear you reach this peak, but you couldn't swallow the sounds of your delight anymore.
“Please- please, Baldwin, let me…let me finish please-...!”
He hummed in satisfaction, watching from the dark as your lip became bitten only before your mouth fell open in a gasp when his fingers began pleasing your clitoris that ached in soft pulses beneath his touch. Softly, he strummed the needing bud where gently he pressed to apply the sublime tension to bring you to your shaking end.
His breath chuffed, feeling your hips lock when your moment drew closer and when your muscles relaxed in a drop all at once- your mouth crying his name and your eyes shutting tightly- he gripped your hair in a fist to pull you into his mouth. He kissed you more needfully than ever as your orgasm thrummed against his fingertips, and he stifled a moan of his own enjoyment to feel how strongly it rocked you in his arms.
You were spent in the seconds following your release. Now, you felt convinced that you were seeing the world in new bright colors after a bodily high brought so decadent by his hand. You felt his fingers still gently grazing you, feeling your gentle pulses of afterglow that throbbed your sex and he pulled away, brushing the hair from your brow he could see your expression wearied from sensation.
“You are a vision that God himself couldn't paint, my dear. Especially whilst being pleased.” He said, still hidden in the dark, making your hand reach up to lovingly cup his face until you were stopped.
He brought your palm back down to the bed, you wanted to know why you couldn't touch him after a feeling so strongly given that you felt so compelled to show thanks for and he said softly with his own breath ragged,
“One can often see with their hands. I…don't think..you should gather an image of the strife upon my face-”
“I don't care-” you said as to not interrupt him but you couldn't bear to hear him deny you anymore.
He slowly allowed your hand to rise again, where you gently felt that his cheek was bandaged. Its cloth coverings must have been protecting his skin, and your thumb brushed on to feel for his mouth. His breath was staggered, but he watched you render your first mental image of what he looked like as your thumb found the first scar of his deformity across his mouth.
You always felt its roughness during a kiss, but you touched it now in silence with your eyes searching. It drew a long, jagged line that marked his lips, then below his chin. You could tell by his shallowed breathing that the more your fingers dragged and lined across him…he was feeling defeated. Which felt painful for you to even assume after such a gift given to your body.
As to not let him object, you moved with gentle quickness in the bed where you were devotedly careful not to apply unneeded weight to him as you straddled his lap.
“Princess-” He said breathlessly as he began to stop you but you assured him with a touch that you were done moving.
You craned your body low, letting his hands become full with your curves in a small, wifely way of giving gratitude and you said in the thick dark, even as you couldn't see him,
“I'll wait….for as long as you decide. I'll want you no less if my waiting takes long or if it ends tonight.” You said, already feeling your heart changed from your first moment of intimacy shared together.
Your words held double meaning, which he found to be so cleverly intentional as he lied beneath you for the first time, and he agreed to your sentiment by pulling your mouth close to another confirming kiss. His hands moved across your body, making your heart swell once again, but your fires were long doused knowing that you'd received your fill tonight.
He softly spoke against your mouth as the darkness enclosed you, telling you of your last instruction of the night,
“Stay with me until morning. Only return before first light.”
“I will.” You said, only wanting more of his touch as you lied against him, the air growing quiet as he held you to his body below the soft linens of his bed while your lips met again. 》
"And if I only received the greatest gift? Do you say I'm damned? But if hell tastes just like your lips, then you can damn me, since I am a heretic devoted to your caresses and kisses. And I burn in the flames of your passion."
I made this for inspiration; why? Because ever since I read your fanfic, I can't get the vision of a queen out of my head. A beloved, longed-for, and protected queen, The Jewel of Jerusalem. I love your writing and your headcanons.
angels aren't supposed to fall in love with humans. This isn't because God thinks angels are better than humans. it's because, if an angel falls in love, it tends to be to an obsessive level. They don't take rejection very well. They're extremely loyal and devoted to their lovers, but this means if they're cheated on they tend to become even angrier than humans, a few times it's resulted in the death of both the cheater and the person they cheated with. And if their loved one loves them back and things work out? humans will die and they don't always go to heaven. this causes the angel to become depressed. the punishment for falling in love with a human tends to be banishment from heaven. it's harsh but most of the time the angels that fall in love with humans end up doing something that would cause them to become a fallen angel anyway. they're still allowed to love others though, as long as they're immortal. it's heaven's best kept secret that Lucifer himself was the first angel to fall in love with a mortal, a human, Eve.
IDK what this is. I've been thinking about angels falling in love with humans and it ending badly for a while now. The idea of an angel falling in love with a human and becoming somewhat of a yandere. They'd never physically hurt the human they're in love with, and they don't mean to cause any other harm but they just love so much, with so much loyalty and devotion. They feel everything so strongly. They try not to get jealous and to remain professional but it's so hard to do when they just want to keep the human with them for as long as they can, to prolong their death as much as they can. and then there's the idea of a human figuring this out and purposely making the angel fall in love with them, knowing they'll always be protected or hoping they'll grant them immortality or something. Just a dark romance with an angel falling in love with a human and, as a result, becoming a fallen angel.