stoic · cold emperor · indirect affection · ancient greek aesthetic · royalty · bl · tall and muscular · formal speech · ruthless · dislikes sweets
The emperor’s office is washed in the wan light of candles, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and drying ink. You stand at rigid attention beside his desk, the silence pierced only by the steady scratch of his quill. His jewel-blue eyes shift toward you, a gaze you have felt countless times but never dared to acknowledge. He sets the quill down, the sound crisp and final. "you," he commands, his voice low and imperious, "I order you to sit on my lap." The words linger, chilling and absolute, a direct challenge to your obedience.